#i wanted to ask before i actually finished ch 5

[takumiraine]

Once Upon A Time chapter 5

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Jason Todd knew it was only a matter of time until his bubble burst and one of his brothers found out what he was getting up to. He was just hoping he could pull it off for a little longer. Even though the pit still reacted at the strangest times, he felt calmer, more normal, than he had in years. He wanted to hold it close and make sure nobody could take it from him.

From Replacement: you went back to college? Does B know?

Fuck.

—

Danny had been wary at first. Rich boy Jason Todd-Wayne in his college classes. The man was older than Jazz, though not by much, and a freshman with him. Either the guy was a bad influence or Danny just had really shitty luck.

He and the universe both knew the answer to than one really. But 60 bucks a week to reteach the guy basic math and Jason always gave him dinner in the deal? Danny wasn’t going to look that particular gift horse in the mouth. If there was one thing Danny had forgotten during the past almost two years it was how hungry his human side got. Not having money and being on the run meant opportunities to eat were few and far between.

What Danny didn’t expect was how sarcastic and assholish the rich guy could be. He loved trading snark. Danny assumed that it came from them both having older siblings. But between that and the half formed core that was slowly shoring up, Danny found himself growing attached. He had missed having friends. Getting to talk to Sam, Tucker and rarely Jazz through a conspiracy message board wasn’t enough. Most of the time it was just a way to make sure that nobody had been captured by the GIW. They had a way to pass longer messages but to do that too often would be suspicious.

“So I don’t get it,” Danny said, gesturing at Jason with some fries almost a month into tutoring, “What do people actually do at Galas? The tabloid pics just show a bunch of people in uncomfortable looking suits standing around with champagne.”

“….thats really it. It’s boring as shit.” Jason kicked his chair back on two legs, leaning against the wall. “If I liked you less I’d invite you.”

“If you liked me less?”

“Oh yeah. Because then you’d have to meet my brothers, the assorted not quite adopteds, my dad and scarier yet, our butler.” Danny choked on his laugh.

“Your butler is the scary one in that situation?”

“Alfred is like a ghost. Always there when you turn around.” Jason put on the accent “Master Jason, you really must come home more. Nobody quite enjoys my cooking like you.” He let the chair legs settle on the floor. “Now imagine that from behind you in a dark kitchen at two am while you’re half drunk and trying to make a sandwich.”

“Okay, yeah, I could see it being that scary. My sister was….” Shit he hadn’t meant to mention Jazz. “She was the only one who cared sometimes.” May as well rip that bandaid off.

“Yeah?” Jason asked, taking a drink from his coffee cup. “Didn’t know you had a sister.”

“My family and I don’t see each other anymore. It’s for the best.” He hoped Jason wouldn’t ask more questions, because ‘my parents sold me out to the government that only knew where I was because of the Justice League which is why I hate them and by association your dad, and now my sister is in hiding in a different state with a new identity’ was way too difficult to explain. “I left before they could kick me out.”

Danny watched Jason’s face twist into a frown. “Bigots suck. Sorry man.”

“Yeah…. Well…” Danny busied himself with finishing his burger. Then, once he chewed and swallowed. “Wait. Is your dad the one that fell into the champagne tower last year?”

Jason groaned, “he’s not always like that I promise.”

“No I get it. A weird ‘Family Friend’ invited us to his fancy party so he could hit on my mom once. I accidentally on purpose took out the entire buffet table including a cheese fountain so we had to go home.”

“Cheese fountain?”

“You know those chocolate fountains?” Danny asked. Jason nodded. “Like that, but with fondue cheese instead. And before you ask why, all I can say is it was in Wisconsin.”

Jason watched him with an unreadable expression for a moment, and Danny assumed he was processing it, because when the expression broke, Jason was laughing.

He looked so much younger when he laughed like that, and Danny remembered that they had both had, in their own ways, a rough life. “Yeah. I know. I was finding cheese in the weirdest places for weeks.”

“Did you get invited back?” Danny’s heart ached with the fact that a month or so later, Everything Fell Apart.

“No… I…” he cut himself off, remembering the horrified looks his parents gave him as their weapons, the ones he fixed, were turned against the ‘beast’ that ‘possessed’ their son. The looks mimicking the ones they gave him when the party screeched to a halt as he did his best impression of a Scooby Doo villain being unmasked. The screams of shock turning into ones of horror. The -

“-anny? Danny?” He blinked and shook his head.

“What? Oh, sorry.” He took another drink from the coffee, emptying the cup. “No. I never was asked back. You done?” He looked at their empty plates and grabbed the tray. “We should get to the library. Though I’m sure someone as good looking as you has plenty, these x-es won’t find themselves.” He was overcompensating for zoning out now, words coming out faster than normal.

“Yeah… are… you okay?” Jason asked, as Danny bussed their tray and grabbed his backpack, a backpack bought by his tutoring money. A tutoring gig he desperately did not want to fuck up with his own bullshit.

“Me? Fine. More than. I just zone out sometimes. Come on.” Danny’s words were still coming out too fast. He took a few breaths during the couple seconds Jason took getting his things, trying to ground himself as much as possible. He was going to be normal. He was going to be normal if it killed him. Again.

The walk to the library was quiet and Danny was thankful for that. He needed to get his head on straight if he was going to be any help to Jason and he still had his own homework to do after. As they walked in, both Danny and Jason instinctively looked towards the desk where Barbara usually worked, but she wasn’t there, some other guy was checking in books with quiet beeps.

Danny had learned over the last month that while Dick, Tim and Damian were Jason’s official siblings, Barbara was an unofficial one and he liked her the most.

It made sense, since she didn’t seem to pry into Jason’s life the way Jazz would have if she was here. Not that he would have minded her prying for how much he missed her, but four years ago he would have hated it.

—

Jason knew the haunted and hunted look that had settled into Danny’s eyes. The way he trailed off into something vacant. How his breathing seemed to get stuck in his chest. Which is why he tried to interrupt the cycle before he could spiral. Something big happened to him, and Jason knew he wouldn’t want to break down in a cafe in front of people.

Thankfully he seemed to snap out of it quickly, instead overcompensating into energetic. The message was clear. ‘Don’t ask about what just happened.’ Carefully, Jason let Danny lead him into the library, aware of his positioning and making sure not to follow too far behind or loom too much. Considering he had at least six inches on Danny, that last part was hard, but he tried.

He could feel the pit spiraling in him, circling and coiling like a dragon deep in his chest. Itching to do…. Something. It wasn’t punch or claw or fight. This was new. He didn’t like it in the slightest.

He looked over to where Babs usually was, then remembered she had a class, criminal justice degree, how apt, as he and Danny went towards what was now their spot. Jason found he had the sudden impulse to pull Danny’s chair out for him, and shoved that particular useless idea back down into the abyss it belonged in.

—

Danny looked over at Jason who stood at the edge of the table looking…. Angry? Confused? and pulled out his own books. “I promise, my zoning out isn’t contagious.” He said, looking up at Jason and kicking the chair across from him out from under the table for Jason to sit. He gave a wry smile, “if it was, I don’t think anyone in my high school would have made it.”

Jason snorted a laugh, snapping out of whatever thoughts he had been thinking. Jason pulled the chair out further and sat, sitting more comfortably than he used to. More of the true Jason, Danny was realizing, less of the person he was supposed to be. In another lifetime…. But no. He couldn’t… not while he was being hunted. It wouldn’t be fair to Jason to have to hide such a huge part of himself and his past.

Not to mention he hadn’t ever come out to Jazz and his friends. Well he had…. But more in the ‘hey I’m dead but not really’ way and less in the ‘so I like guys’ way.

But in spite of those barriers, this tentative friendship with Jason was enough to keep him happy.

Which made the next kick in the teeth from the universe completely expected.

All he had wanted was to walk home in peace. Sure it was almost midnight, in Gotham, but still. He made it most of the way, and was slinking through the Bowery when it happened.

Guys with dark clothes and weapons were suddenly in front of him. He turned only to see more at his back. There had to be five in total? Or was it six? Danny didn’t have time to count.

“Hey guys.” He hedged, muscles tensing as he raised his hands to show he wasn’t a threat. “Don’t mind me, I’m just trying to get home. Long walk and all that. If I could just…. Scooch past you?” Danny took a step to do just that and the lead goon swung at him with a baton.

He hopped back slightly, dodging the hit when it came. “Not a chance. Boss needs some…. Help with his latest ideas. You’re coming with us.”

Danny ran through his options in his head. Option 1: get kidnapped. Option 2: get the shit kicked out of him. Option 3: beat the shit out of them and get labeled as a possible bat to be or possible rogue to be. Option 4: go fully ghost and either escape unscathed but wind up more firmly on the GIW’s radar.

Option two or three would wind up happening, because he wasn’t going to put himself at the mercy of the Bat-ass again, and he wasn’t going to offer himself up on a silver platter to the GIW.

The moment one tried to grab him, Danny dodged out of the way, and that seemed to bring the goons on him en masse. They seemed well practiced, but considering it was Gotham, there wasn’t a big surprise there. The next few minutes were a flurry of elbows and knees, punches and kicks, batons and clubs.

Danny would dodge and counter, disarm one and fling their weapon across the street. He would have sore ribs and bruises from his elbows to his knuckles come morning but he was slowly winnowing them down. He had a brief thought about the conservation of ninjutsu, as the fewer goons there were the stronger they seemed to get. The realistic answer was they were less concerned with hurting each other when there were fewer of them, he knew that. But everything was more fun with ninjas.

When there were three left, one threw a punch that connected with his nose. There was a pop and crunch and a hot rush of blood down his face even before the pain set in. He spat out the blood that collected in his mouth from the way his head snapped back when he was punched. Another one came at him, and his own years of training caught the guy’s arm, judo throwing them into another look and sending them both careening into a wall. The move was trickier with gravity, but he made it work.

Danny looked up at the last remaining goon. He grinned, teeth too sharp and stained with his own blood, eyes glowing just the faintest green. “Run.��

They did.

Unfortunately for the goon, they ran smack into the chest of one Batman.

[hivemuthur]

hihihihi i literally love ur writing smmmm like i actually need it sb. any time you post ik it’s gonna be peak literature 🙂‍↕️

anyhowwww, i wanted to request an arcane fic with a university au viktor x reader where viktor and reader are like academic rivals or wtv and they’re always bickering but viktor rlly wants to be her friend and doesn’t want to be rivals. sooo he tries like anything he can and as reader eventually warms up to him another guy comes along (maybe jayce or smth idk? or it can just be a random) and becomes their friend like almost instantly and viktor is JEALOUSSSS and envious and just ufhfhhffhhfghhf i need that sb.

it can be nsfw or sfw i literally do not care i just need that plot paired with your writing and ik it’s gonna be an absolute masterpiece.

Hey, love! You know what I'm gonna say, right? Sorry for the long wait. This will have 3 chapters, like for real, not like the other one that now is looking more like 5. I'm gonna say a few things got changed here, because I forgot the essence of the request while writing, but the general message is: Viktor is bad at flirting.

Tightrope - Ch. 1.

viktorxfemale!reader mature (overall explicit), frenemies/academic rivals to lovers, modern university AU

Ch.2. | Ch.3.

word count: 5,9K

tag: #tightrope

summary: You and Viktor are tethering the line between friendship and rivalry, Jayce being one amongst the few common factors you both acknowledge (of course more is there but for the smart people you are, you tend to be very stupid about things). Oh, and you have to do a project together.

author's note: I have a very poor name vocabulary sorry. Here's another Joe, this time he's a dude :v thank you @rennethen for beta reading and bearing through my shit with such grace. One trick pony here we go!

also the artist behind art is here!

Cross-posted on AO3

—

You squint as your eyes scan the list of projects for Heimerdinger’s class. And since the professor is just and fair, like a nice old man who has seen it all, you already know what to expect. But you check anyway.

He wouldn’t pair you—the almost top-of-the-class student, fighting desperately with your feet and elbows to stay there—with someone undeserving. This little annoying thing in the back of your head called hope still glows faintly, last embers about to die as you’ve read through almost all names known to you except for yours.

And as a bucket of cold water gets thrown over the ashen pieces of coal, you find it. And oh—

Of course. Next to it, your least favourite name. Of course, just… great. This is great. This is fine.

The last time you worked together, it ended with a lot of papercuts, pencils flying, and Jayce using notebooks and blackboards as shields—not to mention a tiny explosion because neither of you could agree on proportions.

So, like the responsible classmate you are, you make one final, desperate attempt to convince the nice little man to change your partner. For the sake of public safety and the well-being of everyone who steps foot on Academy grounds.

You are also nice and well-behaved, so even though the door to the classroom is open, you knock on the doorframe before disturbing the professor.

“Ah! I would lie if I said I wasn’t expecting you to show up. Please, come in!” he exclaims, and you have to stop yourself from rolling your eyes in sheer existential pain. If he already knows what you want, you already know how this is going to go.

Still, you press forward, stepping inside and clasping your hands behind your back in what you hope is a diplomatic stance. “Professor, I was wondering if—by any chance, purely hypothetically—there’s a possibility to switch partners for the project?”

Heimerdinger folds his arms behind his back, looking up at you with the kind of patient amusement that makes you feel like a child asking for extra dessert before finishing dinner. “Ah, yes. I was almost certain you’d ask that,” he says, nodding sagely. “And before you say anything else, I do hope you won’t drop out of my class if I say no.”

You open your mouth, ready to assure him that you would never be so dramatic—except that’s exactly what you were about to say, just in different words.

Before you can recover, Heimerdinger raises a hand and continues. “This project is worth thirty percent of your final mark,” he states, his voice gentle but firm. “I am, of course, aware of the... tension between you and Viktor.” His moustache twitches slightly, betraying a hint of amusement. “However, I must ensure fairness in all assignments. There will be no one riding on someone else’s back in my class.”

You exhale sharply through your nose. “Professor, with all due respect, we nearly set a classroom on fire last time—”

“The most beautiful diamonds,” he interjects, tilting his head with a knowing smile, “are shaped under pressure.”

You stare at him, jaw tight. He stares back, completely at ease.

Fantastic. Just fantastic.

“I—” you gulp on air, searching for words. Finally, a breath of surrender escapes you and you deflate completely, saying only, “Thank you for your time.”

Seeing your sagged chest and fingers grasping the edge of your notebook tightly, Heimerdinger offers you a consolation. “I know I seem ancient to you, child. But trust me when I say, I do remember what it’s like to be young, and a little bit of friendly rivalry can be transformed into something truly groundbreaking. Think Newton and Hooke! Tesla and Edison! Bohr and Einstein! All of them were in quandaries that led to further discoveries!”

While Heimerdinger lists off pairs of rival geniuses, completely different names surface in your mind, unspoken but undeniable. Verlaine and Rimbaud. Love and Cobain. Sid and Nancy. Bonnie and Clyde. You are convinced those are the dynamics that loom over you and Viktor—just without all the feelings, of course.

And if only you were just competitors, like Bohr and Einstein, things would be so much simpler.

From the very first meeting, Viktor had been cold and reserved, his sharp tongue laced with enough venom to wither anyone foolish enough to challenge him. But if there was one thing you had to do to stay afloat in this sea of STEM sausages, it was dare. And challenge.

You still remember that moment vividly. How you almost stumbled when Jayce introduced you—because gods, he was gorgeous. An angular face that looked carved from marble, warm amber eyes framed by a fall of auburn hair. A boy so unfairly pretty that, had you met him a few years earlier, you would have fallen hard.

Your eyes swept him from head to toe before you slipped your hand into his, and for a single, traitorous moment, something fluttered in your chest. A rush of warmth, unexpected and unfamiliar.

Then you blurted out your name with an embarrassing stutter—

And the magic shattered the second Viktor opened his sweet mouth.

"Charmed," he drawled, but the dryness in his voice suggested the opposite. His gaze flicked over you in a quick, assessing glance before he tilted his head towards Jayce. "Is she another one of your projects, or does she actually know what she’s doing?"

The warmth in your chest evaporated instantly, replaced by a sharp spike of irritation.

Oh. Oh. So that’s how this was going to go.

With a weak smile, you thank Professor Heimerdinger, and your mind is so out of it that you almost curtsy—which you hastily disguise as an awkward bow. Nearly stumbling over your own feet, you literally fall out of the classroom, colliding with something big and solid.

“Careful there! Hi, oh—” A surprised voice reaches your ears, followed by a strong arm steadying you. “Hi there. Hi, um. You alright?”

Either he’s a halfwit or completely smitten with you, because his articulation leaves much to be desired. Not that you're one to judge, given your current coordination.

“Hi, sorry. Just a small… miscalculation.” You smile sheepishly and extend your hand out of habit, instinctively introducing yourself to your unexpected saviour. After all, that’s how you met Jayce.

“I’m Joe,” he says in one breath, your much smaller hand completely disappearing in his massive palm. “It’s nice to meet you.” He chuckles, a blush blooming across his cheeks—so unabashed, his eyes glinting—and oh.

Nice, you catch yourself thinking in the most obscene, ludicrous way as you zero in on his chest, the tight team T-shirt clinging to it.

“Eh, it’s nice to meet you too.” You grin, nodding, and blink stupidly, batting your eyelashes, not entirely sure what’s happening.

Before you get a chance to unglue the dumbfounded smile from your face and actually say something more, Jayce’s voice rings through the corridor, your name echoing off the walls.

“There you are! Oops! Making new friends? Don’t mind her, this is her love language.”

Jayce—the oblivious Jayce, a man so naïve it would never cross his mind what he is doing to someone you literally just met thirty seconds ago. Mortification is too weak a word to describe what you feel inside.

“Jayce!” You smack his chest and shake your head in disbelief. “Don’t mind him, he’s an ass.”

And as if poor Joe doesn’t have enough on his plate already, another voice bombards him, and you’re certain he’s beginning to regret ever catching you.

“Hello. Are you a new face in Heimerdinger’s class?” Viktor asks, wearing that redundant smirk, his voice stretching into a deliberate, chewy, gross thing that makes you scowl. Just outright cruel.

“Heh, no, I just happened to catch your friend,” Joe answers without missing a beat. “And… I was hoping I could get her number.”

And that just. Does it.

You nod faster than you think, already reaching for his phone, clumping your number in there with sticky, shaky fingers and a stupid blush creeping up your neck. You avoid Jayce’s and Viktor’s eyes, but oh boy, you can feel both pairs drilling into you almost viscerally. Viktor’s especially—those fucking yellow embers burning right through you from under furrowed brows.

You flash Joe one last smile and a very awkward, very hurried, “Call me,” not knowing what has gotten into you. Then you let Jayce sweep you away toward your usual route to the cafeteria, while Viktor strolls behind, full of graceful disdain.

“So, I saw the tables, and…” Jayce clears his throat, chattering into your ear. “I’ve seen the pairs! We can share a lab, I’m paired with Sky!”

“Yeah, I know.” You sigh and pat his shoulder—a touch saying more than a thousand words. Words that say how much you can’t wait for another round of throwing objects at Viktor, while Jayce scrambles to catch anything that might hurt Sky.

“Oh, are you not happy about the distribution of projects?” Viktor asks, a small smile playing at his lips.

“The project is fine. The distribution… I’m sure you understand.” You throw him an acidic smirk, your eyes empty of any emotion save for one slow blink. Neural Interface for Prosthetics is actually an incredibly good project—Heimerdinger got you there, and you couldn’t be more grateful. Well, maybe you could be just a little more grateful had he paired you with Jayce or Sky.

“Eh, you will forgive me, but I do not.” Viktor pauses and looks at you—challenging you. And you really hate it, because it works. “I do not wish to have the project jeopardized by something silly, as the topic itself aligns with my interests.”

“I’m sure the feeling is mutual, Viktor. Can we please eat? I am about to eat one of you if we don’t go to the cafeteria right now,” you sigh, exasperated, and your stomach growls to support your claim.

“You can eat me!” Jayce lands face down between your bickering, and you just laugh, completely disarmed.

Once you finally sit down, Viktor simply opens a book next to his tray, ignoring both you and Jayce completely—obviously sulking about something. Jayce, on the other hand, takes massive bites of his sandwich, staring at you intensely, as if willing you to spill the tea. When that doesn’t work, he speaks.

“So… who’s the new guy?” he elbows you playfully and you can barely understand him with his mouth full. But his eyes say it all—he is dying to know.

"Jayce, you’re so transparent I almost can’t see you. Where are you, Jayce? Where did you go?" You wave your hands around dramatically. He almost chokes. Viktor scoffs, unimpressed, barely glancing up from his book as he stirs sweetmilk into his coffee.

Once the immediate hazard of death by choking is under control, Jayce flashes one of those earnest grins—one that practically screams what a good person he is, full of pure intentions. "Oh, shut up. He seems nice, and I’m curious."

"He’s just a guy, nothing more," you hum, taking a sip of your coffee. And even though you have no idea if that little encounter will go anywhere, you can’t resist adding a pin. "Yet."

Viktor looks like he is holding back a scoff, so he just turns the page in his book with a violent sweep.

"Well… do you like him?" Jayce presses, oblivious to the tension at the table. He’s just such a gossip girl.

You let out an incredulous laugh. "Are you alright? Why are you so interested?"

Jayce shrugs. "I don’t know, I always thought you’d end up with someone of equal… interests?" Intelligence is what he really means. But that would be cruel. Just because a guy plays rugby doesn’t mean he’s brain damaged. Surely.

"Oh please, I hate STEM bros." You lean back in your chair, crossing your arms with an air of finality, as if that settles the matter. You do hate STEM bros. They are full of themselves, have no respect for women and look down on you.

Jayce raises an eyebrow, a slow, knowing grin spreading across his face. "Erm… you are a STEM bro."

Viktor finally looks up from his book, watching you with the barest flicker of amusement in his eyes.

You gasp, pressing a hand to your chest as if mortally offended. "Jayce Talis! I am a lady! Not a bro!"

That is Viktor’s cue. “I don’t think that lack of testicles classifies you as a lady instantly,” he says in a deadpan voice.

And you don’t know what pushes your stupid mind to say it. Is it just muscle memory—your tongue snapping back whenever you talk to Viktor—or an actual intention to say something mean to him? You really don’t know. In one breath, you say, voice equally dead to his, “Of course not. If that were the case, you’d classify as a lady as well,” and watch the chaos unravel.

None of that happens, though. The underwhelming events carry on in painfully slow motion—Jayce’s eyes widening so much there’s a real threat they might never close again, while Viktor gulps his coffee with an agonisingly slow bob of his Adam’s apple. It’s only when he’s done that you realise he was fighting not to choke on it—because the next moment, he bursts into laughter, covering his face with his hand.

Jayce exhales the breath he was holding and laughs as well—you’re not sure if it’s at your joke or simply at the sight of Viktor laughing so openly, an event so rare it shouldn’t go uncherished. Despite yourself, you grin. Indeed, Viktor’s face—his eyes squeezed shut to the point of a tear slipping from beneath his long lashes, smile lines filling out his hollowed cheeks, his teeth bared in an uninhibited cackle—is a sight to behold.

The stupid thing in your chest stutters, as Viktor wheezes and lowers his hand to rest on yours. “Remind me to never cross you again. Merciless is an understatement,” he says, barely, with a really warm smile and you find yourself blushing again, for the second time in a mere hour. Because of two different boys.

And as any moment made of pure magic in the history of magical moments, this one doesn’t last either. It gets violently interrupted by a buzz of your phone on the table.

If you wanna take a stroll, I have a free period now :) We can meet by the fountain. Joe, in case you wonder who this is :)

And your blush deepens. You calculate options in your mind and soon decide on the what the hell one. “I’m gonna scram boys. See you in the lab after class?”

“Yes. Please bring the less… distracted version of yourself if you can,” Viktor states and all the warmth evaporates from him at once. Back to the usual version of himself—sharp wit, balancing on the verge of cutting.

As you mumble an absent, “I’ll do my best,” and wave them goodbye, Jayce returns to his sandwich and sighs knowingly.

“You know… wouldn’t kill you to be a little bit nicer,” Jayce says, leaning forward on his elbows. His voice is casual, but there’s an edge of curiosity beneath it, like he’s prodding at something fragile just to see if it will break.

“This is me being nice,” Viktor replies in a neutral tone, lifting his coffee to his lips. The steam curls around his face as he takes a slow sip, his expression unmoving. He is being nice. He is trying to be nice. It’s just sometimes completely impossible to be nice to you when you get like this. Distracted. He scoffs to himself. It’s a strange friendship you have there, but it’s a friendship nevertheless—or so he likes to think.

Jayce studies him, his gaze sharp despite the lazy way he’s chewing the inside of his cheek. “No, that is just you being… well, you,” he says bluntly, tilting his head as if he’s considering whether to push further. “Being a dick is not a way to a lady’s heart.”

Viktor arches a brow, unimpressed. “Excuse me, but have we experienced the same scene? I was the one being offended and laughed it off like a gentleman, thank you.” He gestures vaguely with his cup, his fingers tightening just slightly around the ceramic.

Jayce narrows his eyes. “Then why are you so annoyed in the first place?”

“I am not annoyed,” Viktor states flatly, setting his coffee down with a little more force than necessary. He smooths his hands over his sweater as he rises from his seat, already turning away before Jayce can open his mouth again. “I am great. I am so great, in fact, that I will go and start working on that project. See you, Jayce.”

And then he just strides off, his cane tapping against the floor, leaving Jayce mid-sentence with his mouth open, eyes blinking slowly.

Of course, he is not annoyed. Maybe only slightly—and only because you’ve somehow managed to gain another distraction in your life right before you were about to start working on the biggest project of the year. And it’s just, well, fucking annoying.

***

When you glance at your watch, you yelp and press a hand to your forehead. “Fucking hell,” you mutter under your breath before breaking into a sprint toward the lab.

Viktor is going to kill you—especially since there’s no way to prove you were caught up in something important.

Because, well, you weren’t. It was Joe who took up all your time this afternoon. And he is… surprisingly nice. And smart.

You hadn’t expected that.

What started as a casual conversation somehow stretched into something far longer, the minutes slipping away unnoticed. He had opinions on films—actual opinions, not just generic statements about “liking action movies.” He had read some of the same books as you and even suggested a few you begrudgingly admitted sounded interesting. Sports came up, of course, but he spoke about them with a self-awareness that made it bearable. And when the conversation dipped into politics, he didn’t say anything that made you want to throw your coffee in his face. That alone was impressive.

It was… weirdly comfortable. Easy, even. Even when he lingered.

Joe’s gaze held onto you a second longer than necessary, like he was memorising the way you looked when you laughed. And when he hugged you goodbye, his arms stayed around you for just a breath too many. The slow way he untangled himself from you made it clear that if you hadn’t pulled away first, he wouldn’t have been the one to let go.

Shaking off the last remnants of Joe from your thoughts, you push through the heavy lab doors with a hurried stumble, your breath still uneven from the rush.

“Sorry, I’m late, guys—” The words die in your throat as you take in the empty room.

Only Viktor.

He stands at the workbench, sleeves pushed up, hands meticulously adjusting the placement of various tools and notes. At the sound of your voice, he pauses but doesn’t turn around immediately. The rhythmic ticking of the clock fills the silence, marking the seconds you take to process the situation.

No Jayce. No Sky. Just Viktor, and the sharp scent of metal and oil clinging to the air.

“Glad you could make it,” he remarks, finally turning his head just enough to glance at you. His voice is even, but something about it feels... off. You can’t tell if he’s irritated or merely stating a fact. Maybe both.

“Sorry,” you sigh, setting your things down with a thud. “I lost track of time.”

“With your new himbo.” It isn’t a question.

You hesitate for a fraction of a second. “Yes. And his name is Joe, Viktor, not a new himbo.”

Viktor hums—a short, unimpressed sound—and resumes his work, carefully aligning a set of blueprints. Somehow, his silence feels louder than an argument.

“Okay,” you say hesitantly, more to yourself than to him, or rather into the empty space between you and Viktor, which seems to be expanding with each passing second.

“And where are Jayce and Sky?”

“They managed to sketch out the roadmap for themselves in the time you spent with Joe and decided they needed the library for further planning,” Viktor replies flatly, still not looking at you. The way he deliberately keeps his gaze averted only emphasises how much has been accomplished in your presumably very long moment of indulgence. How nice.

“Alright, would you like me to crucify myself, or do you want the honours?” Impatience gets the better of you, and you fold your arms tightly across your chest.

At that, Viktor’s hands still over the workbench. His head tilts ever so slightly in your direction, though his gaze remains fixed on the floor, as if acknowledging you fully would be a waste of effort.

“I am merely stating a fact,” he says, his voice low, clipped. “This is more important than some affairs, I’ll have you know.”

“Oh, really, Viktor?” You let out a sharp laugh, shaking your head. “And here I thought thirty percent of my grade was worth sacrificing for some sloppy making out—but thank you so much for finally making me see the error of my ways.”

That makes him look.

And he is angry.

His head snaps up, eyes narrowing, gears visibly grinding in his mind as he weighs whether you’re just riling him up or—God forbid—whether you actually have made out with Joe.

His jaw tightens. “Just get to work already, will you?”

You say nothing, only flash him an acrid smile before reaching for your goggles on the workbench.

The two of you work in almost deafening silence, broken only by the occasional exchange of necessary questions and answers. You retrieve materials while Viktor arranges the workspace, and you scribble down the general plan on the blackboard, the tension in the air palpable.

Each time the chalk screeches against the surface, Viktor visibly winces, hissing under his breath and sinking his head between his shoulders in an exaggerated display of agony.

You roll your eyes but say nothing.

“Could you maybe try a little harder to make it less cacographic?” he mutters, irritation creeping into his voice.

The suddenness of it startles you just as you’re making another stroke, and the chalk lets out a bone-chilling whine against the board.

Viktor flinches violently, covering his ears. “For fuck’s sake,” he grumbles, voice muffled behind his palms. “Let me do it.” He steps forward, reaching for the chalk without hesitation.

You anticipate the move, tucking your arm behind your back in defiance. A childish gesture, maybe, but if he’s going to be an ass about it, you’re not about to make it easy for him.

He doesn’t stop. He closes the distance between you in a few sharp steps, his expression taut with frustration. Before you can react, his fingers wrap around your wrist—tight, unrelenting. He pries your hand forward and gives a firm shake, forcing your fingers to unclench until the chalk drops neatly into his waiting palm.

A sharp twinge shoots up your arm. It’s not painful exactly, but it’s close enough to make you wince.

Snatching your hand back, you massage your wrist, eyes narrowing. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

For a brief second, something flickers across Viktor’s face—regret, maybe. But it’s gone as quickly as it came, buried beneath the same rigid composure he always wears like armour. He doesn’t apologise. Doesn’t even acknowledge it. Instead, he turns to the board and begins writing, his tone stripped of anything resembling warmth.

“I want to wrap this up before tomorrow,” he says flatly, chalk gliding across the surface with sharp, efficient strokes. “And you are being thoroughly incompetent. I told you to bring yourself not distracted.”

You let out a sharp scoff. “Okay, I am so sorry I was late. I’ll stay longer and finish up whatever we don’t get done in time. But you are outdoing yourself in being a complete twat today.”

You don’t wait for a response. Instead, you march over to the workbench, hands immediately finding the prototype components. If you focus on the task, maybe you won’t be tempted to launch something at Viktor’s insufferable head.

“Oh please, I do not trust anything you do without supervision,” Viktor says, scribbling quietly on the board, somehow making a point out of it.

“Viktor, are you serious right now? We literally have the same grades,” you huff, leaning over the table to pick up the components you need. You do your best to tune him out—his bickering is only distracting, and you need to rewire the prototype from the previous project.

Overall, the task is simple enough. The device is built around an EEG-based neural interface—a system that reads electrical activity in the brain and translates it into signals that can control a mechanical limb. In practical terms, the user wears a headband fitted with electrodes that detect neural impulses associated with movement. These signals then travel through a processing unit, which refines the input before transmitting it to the prosthetic itself.

That’s the easy part. The rest, well.

The prototype you’re working on today is a refinement of an earlier model. The previous iteration had suffered from signal lag and inconsistent responsiveness—issues you’re hoping to correct by integrating a new set of circuits and refining the algorithm for noise reduction.

You grab the headband from the pile of equipment, turning it over in your hands. It should work just fine if you tweak the wiring to accommodate the new design. Without thinking too much about it, you start securing the circuits, fingers working on autopilot as you weave the delicate wires through the correct channels.

Or at least, you think they’re correct—until Viktor’s voice cuts through your focus again.

“Are you even listening to me? What are you doing?” His tone is sharp, irritated—like he’s already asked this more than once.

Your expression tightens as he strides over to the bench, clearly unimpressed. “I just rewired it. Nothing too complex,” you mutter, adjusting a loose wire before reaching for the power switch.

Viktor doesn’t look convinced. He picks up the headband, turning it over in his hands with a scrutinising gaze. “Nothing too complex,” he repeats dryly. “Yes, because neural interfaces are famously simple. I’d rather be sure. Show me.”

You roll your eyes but oblige, reaching over and flipping the switch.

The reaction is instant.

A sharp jolt cracks through the air, followed by a strangled, almost undignified yelp as Viktor jerks back, dropping the headband as if it has burned him. His entire body stiffens, fingers twitching violently for a brief second before he stumbles, gripping the workbench for support, blinking rapidly.

Your mouth falls open. “Oh—shit—Viktor—”

He exhales sharply, pressing a hand to his chest, his face twisted in a grimace. “Wonderful,” he grits out. “So that’s what you rewired.”

“God, I’m so sorry,” you mumble, rushing to him, ignoring the sharpness of his tone. Your hands instinctively cup his face as you lean in. He blinks, startled, his mouth parting at the sudden concern—your brows furrowed, eyes searching his face for any sign of lingering pain, thumbs brushing over his cheekbones. “Are you okay?”

“No,” he says flatly. “You’ve electrocuted me.” His hands move to seize your wrists, but you twist away before he can. Your palms return to his face, fingers framing him gently, and Viktor’s breath hitches.

“I didn’t mean to,” you whisper, voice genuine. You are truly sorry, the worry overriding all the anger you had for him mere seconds ago. And Viktor has no idea how to react to this. He stands there, breath unsteady, before muttering, “I’m fine.”

You blink, straightening, and Viktor is almost ready to exhale in relief—until your hands shift again, this time pressing against his chest and back, cradling his heart between your palms. You stand beside him, hands firm but careful, instinct guiding you more than knowledge. You don’t even know if this is what you’re supposed to do for someone who’s been electrocuted, but it’s the only thing that comes to mind.

His heart thunders beneath your touch. The silence is so heavy you can hear yourself gulp on the lump in your throat. You don’t hate him that much, and you hope he knows it.

Finally, Viktor speaks, his breath still rattling. “Well, would you look at that. So there is kindness in your touch after all.” He tries to sound wicked, but there is no venom in his voice.

“Viktor, you bastard. When have I not been kind to you?” you respond playfully, your hands still pressed against him.

“Ah, well. When you implied my alleged castration is the first that comes to mind. But rest assured, my testicles are good and well. I’d show you, but I’m afraid someone has already filled this position in your life,” he trails off, slipping back into his seemingly unbothered attitude.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you groan, rolling your eyes. Still, your fingers linger, as if trying to determine whether his heartbeat is elevated from the shock or something else entirely. Or is it always like this? You don’t dare to ask.

Viktor tilts his head, watching you. “What about?”

“Any of it. You make me fucking gag,” you scoff, finally sliding your hands off him.

“Not yet—but I could.”

You barely have time to register the shift before he catches your hand, his thumb pressing against your palm. A slight twitch makes your fingers curl around his.

“You could what?”

“Make you gag.” The words slip out just as a smirk blooms on his face, faster than he can think to stop either. He can’t tell if he regrets them immediately.

The figurative pin drops. A high-pitched whine rings in your ears. Viktor’s gaze is drilled into you, thumb still pressing into your palm.

Your eyes widen, but you don’t miss a beat. “Well, would you look at that. So there is kindness in you after all,” you murmur.

“Ah, for you. Only kindness, nothing else,” Viktor hums, his voice a low purr as his thumb idly circles the centre of your palm. His grip is loose enough that you could pull away, yet you don’t. His eyes flicker with something unreadable—something that makes your breath catch before you force yourself to scoff.

“Yeah, right.”

His smirk deepens. “When have I not been kind to you?”

“Like… ever?” You raise a brow, tilting your head as if you’re genuinely considering it. “You mock me. You think I’m outright stupid and don’t deserve my spot in class. You constantly correct me and fight me over solutions. You hate working with me, scoff at me, and laugh me out in front of Jayce. And Sky.”

Viktor clicks his tongue, his fingers squeezing yours ever so slightly. “Such is my love language.”

You huff and roll your eyes. “Oh, forget it.” You finally try to pull your hand away, but Viktor doesn’t let go just yet, his grip tightening for half a second before he releases you—only for his cane to hook lightly around your wrist, stopping you mid-motion.

“Wait.” His voice is softer now, coaxing. When you glance at him, there’s something else in his gaze, something warmer, but it’s masked beneath that ever-present air of a prank. “I almost died, you shouldn’t leave me.”

You gape at him. “Viktor—”

“Alright, alright! I surrender.” He chuckles, but there’s something breathless in it. His fingers twitch against his cane. “Wait. Please.”

The sudden plea stills you. Your heart stumbles over itself before you swallow and straighten your posture, crossing your arms in an attempt to shake the feeling off.

Viktor exhales, dragging a hand through his hair before returning his gaze to you. “I do not mock you or laugh you out. I simply jest—I do that with Jayce all the time. You should have noticed by now.”

You purse your lips, unimpressed.

“I do not correct you,” he continues, his voice lilting, as if this is all some grand performance. “I offer you my point of view. And I do not fight you—I simply enjoy some intellectual sparring. Not many can provide one that satisfies me.”

Your fingers twitch, nerves sparking beneath your skin at the way he says satisfies, but you ignore it. Instead, you level him with a flat stare.

“You’re just gaslighting me at this point, Viktor. At least give me a head start before you snap my neck with this thing one day.” You tap the end of his cane with a pointed look.

Viktor grins—slow, wicked. His weight shifts, allowing the cane to rest a little heavier against your wrist, his fingers curling just slightly around the handle.

“Oh, come now. That would be far too merciful.”

Your stomach flips, and you hate that it does.

“Are you going to be good to me now?” Viktor asks, his voice so low you barely hear it, but the weight of it settles deep in your chest.

He takes a step closer, and your breath catches when you feel it—his exhale, warm against your skin, ghosting over your lips. His fingers brush against your wrist, the same one he had seized not long ago. A touch that lingers.

“You have almost killed me, after all.” You watch his lips twisted in a smile you’ve never seen before. And it scares you for some reason.

“Stop this,” you say, firmer than you expected, yanking your hand away. You clutch it to your chest like a wound, like something fragile he might pry apart if given the chance.

Viktor tilts his head, eyes sharp with curiosity. “Why?”

Your throat tightens. “You know goddamn well why.” You take a step back, shaking your head, something bitter curling in your gut. “I am not your project, you dick.”

Viktor’s expression shifts—his smirk falters, lips parting slightly as if caught off guard. “Hey, that is not what I meant—”

But you don’t let him finish. You pivot on your heel, retreating towards the door, your pulse hammering in your ears. You need distance. The lab suddenly feels too small, the air too thick, charged with something neither of you were prepared for.

Behind you, Viktor’s voice follows, just a step behind. “Wait—”

You don’t.

The door swings shut behind you, and Viktor is left standing in the empty lab, staring after where you had just been.

A long exhale leaves him, and he runs a hand through his hair, muttering under his breath,

“Well, damn. That backfired.”

He frowns to himself, rolling his jaw as if trying to make sense of what just happened—of what he just did.

And for the first time in a long while, Viktor realises he doesn’t have a formula for this.

[exhaslo]

Puzzle Pieces Ch.5

(Mafia!Miguel x Shy!Reader)

Ch.1, Ch.2, Ch.3, Ch.4

Warning: Eventual Smut so Minors DNI, mentions of abuse, blood, murder, language, fluff, bullying, mentions of sex

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You could feel how hot your cheeks were still. Ever since you had kissed Miguel's cheek, you couldn't stop thinking about him. He was so nice to you and such a gentlemen. Honestly, all you saw were green flags coming from him. You really wanted to keep seeing him and talking to him and just, enjoying how you felt around him.

You were currently at work, wrapping some meat for a custom order. It was strange. Immediately after your first date with Miguel, your work load got easier. You didn't feel as stressed or tired anymore that you were actually able to eat normally again.

"The usual?" Your supervisor asked.

Your ears perked up, turning your head. There was Miguel, whispering something before a bunch of men entered the third freezer. You watched as Miguel slowly walked by you, his hand swiftly patting your head.

Oh, you loved it when he did that. Miguel had started to pat your head every now and then. It was a small token of affection, but it made your body feel all warm and fuzzy inside. You thought it was silly, but you wanted Miguel to keep showing you such small affection like that.

"Clock out when I finish," Miguel whispered.

Your ears perked up and just nodded to his request. Once he entered the freezer, you scurried to your supervisor and informed him of your early leaving. Your supervisor just agreed with ease and let you finish your work.

----------

Miguel just drank in every loving look you gave him. It felt like you were so close to being his, but Miguel hasn't even kissed you yet. He was still warming you up to be his little wife. Miguel needed to know how comfortable you were with his part of his life.

Sitting against his chair, Miguel watched as his men took care of another Goblin Society member. He hummed towards the man's screams, still recalling your adorable expression to his head pats. Honestly, how innocent could someone be?

"Miguel, he isn't talking." Peter whispered. Miguel lazily glanced towards the pathetic man,

"Hobie, do whatever."

"Aye, finally."

Miguel leaned back, not interested in this anymore. He already had a long night dealing with Alchemax work, only to wake up to this fool snooping around his base. Miguel just needed his dose of stress reliever, aka you.

Once the screams finally stopped, Miguel inhaled deeply. He stood up and walked towards the body then faced his men. Taking a look at his watch, Miguel grunted lowly.

"Tighten security. The fact that such a worm like this attempted to sneak around is pathetic." He spat then turned towards Ben, "You and Jessica go to the port and check the shipment. I don't want anymore surprises."

With a wave of his hand, Miguel left the freezer first. He walked through the maze of boxes and exited. The hallway where the freezers were was empty as usual. Stuffing his hands in his pockets, Miguel walked down the hallway, towards the deli.

You were looking better. It had only been two weeks since your first date, but things were changing for you for the better. Miguel made sure to have a word with the supermarket. He was going to take care of you little by little. You were deserving of his affection.

He on the other hand, did not deserve yours, but Miguel was sure as shit going to take it.

Making eye contact with you, Miguel watched as you hurried to clock out and get your stuff. Miguel was a greedy man. He always took what he wanted. That or it just happened to land on his lap, just like you did.

"S-Sorry, d-did I make you wait long?" You asked.

Miguel patted your head, enjoying the look you gave him. If only he knew it was this easy to win your heart. Miguel would have done this from the start.

"As promised, you get to pick the place for our date," Miguel said with a warm smile, walking you out of the supermarket.

"I-I saw there is this H-Halloween event in Central P-Park. P-Pumpkins, apple p-picking and some o-other stuff. C-Can we go there?" You asked him. Miguel helped you into the car,

"I'm not going to say no if it's where you want to go,"

"R-Really?!"

Watching you smile brightly, Miguel couldn't help but give in. If you wanted something, he was going to give it to you. Call it love, but Miguel was falling for you hard. His little bunny deserved everything, especially if you were going to be his.

-------

You squealed lowly as you and Miguel arrived at the event. Practically jumping in place, you grabbed Miguel's hand, wanting to look around. This was something new and actually fun. You hadn't had a chance to leave your apartment to do anything like this.

"Wah, look at those!" You whispered, spotting some stands that sold desserts.

Miguel just watched you, keeping his composure as he followed your every whim. Right now, he was outside his territory. Buying you a cupcake, Miguel watched as you stayed close to him, nibbling happily on the treat.

You couldn't stop smiling as you munched on your cupcake. For once, you actually went somewhere that you wanted to go. Not only that, but Miguel was treating you like his girlfriend. Following you around and getting you treats. It was making your heart flutter. Gripping his sleeve, you tried to hide your face as you kept enjoying your treat.

Miguel kept his arm was wrapped around you waist, keeping an eye out. Some of his men were around to keep guard, but Miguel still had to be careful. After all, everything worked out when he took care of it himself.

Miguel's goal was to have the whole city of Nueva York under his command. He was almost there, but there were still some small gangs and enemies who tried to stand in his way. Miguel wasn't going to let those scum win. Not when he was so close to being in charge of everything.

"Mhm~ Sure you don't want one?" You asked. Miguel leaned down towards you, his forehead against yours,

"If you let me lick off your crumbs," He whispered, watching your face turn bright red.

A soft chuckle escaped his lips as he wiped some frosting off you lip and proceeded to lick it off his finger. You squeaked and hid your face in your sleeve, while he scrunched up in disgust. Miguel was never a fan of sweets, but he'll do anything for you.

"W-Want....Want to pick out a p-pumpkin?" You asked lowly. Miguel played with you hair in response,

"Sure,"

You threw away your wrapper, still holding onto Miguel's hand. Your heart was racing since Miguel was the one who asked you to hold onto him at all times. You were feeling embarrassed. These dates were making you want Miguel more and more.

You were just scared.

Scared of another Eddie. You gave yourself the better of the doubt, wanting to believe Miguel to be different. So far, he sure did feel different, but deep down...You were still terrified of him turning around and turning into another Eddie.

Stopping at the pumpkin patch, you curiously looked around, wanting to distract your mind. You were having a good time with Miguel. It was best to avoid thinking about the past. Once you found the perfect pumpkin, you cheered quietly. You wanted to try and make your own pumpkin desserts. Give them to Miguel as a gift for taking good care of you. Picking up the pumpkin, you smiled and showed Miguel.

Right as you did, an explosion happened.

Miguel immediately grabbed you, pulling you into his embrace as he signaled his men to check it out. Miguel cussed lowly as he recognized the laughter to be Goblin's and his crew. Holding your head in place, Miguel swiftly picked you up and took you back to his car.

"M-Miguel," You whimpered, shaking as you still held your pumpkin.

"My driver will take you home. Text me when you arrive."

"W-Wait," You whimpered, putting your pumpkin down and hugging Miguel's waist, "P-Please...Please don't go."

"I have to," Miguel stroked your cheek and placed a firm kiss against your forehead, "Text me when you get home, mi amor. (my love)"

Your lips quivered as the car drove off. You watched as Miguel pulled out a gun and ran back to where the explosion was. Tears rolled down your cheek as you trembled in fear. You just wanted him to hold you a bit longer and tell you that everything was okay.

That's all you wanted.

---------

Miguel cussed in Spanish, angry that his date got ruined. Things were moving along quite nicely. Miguel actually felt like you were ready for him to kiss you. But, of course, like everything else good in his life, something had to happen.

"Take them down,"

----------

After a few hours of endless shooting and fighting, the Goblin and his crew ended up giving up. Well, Miguel got his hands dirty and beat the living shit out of the Green Goblin himself. Once the cops showed up, Miguel and his Spiders disappeared from the scene, leaving nothing but their webs of destruction.

Riding with Peter, Miguel finally looked at his phone and saw your text. He grunted lowly, recalling your tears before he parted. In an annoyed and demanding tone, Miguel told Peter to drop him off at your place.

It was a surprise, but Peter happily agreed. Teasing Miguel about finally finding love and whatnot. Miguel tuned him out since he knew that Peter was just going to show him more pictures of Mayday, his child.

"Peter, why don't you do something productive instead?"

----------

You whimpered lowly as you took the batch of pumpkin cupcakes out of the oven. You were still waiting for Miguel to text you back. It had been hours since you've heard from him. Five hours to be exact and you only knew that because it took you four hours to boil the pumpkin for the puree.

Placing the cookies down to cool, you gasp as you heard your door bell. Quickly, you rushed over and glanced at the peep hole. Seeing Miguel, you opened the door and tackled him in a tight hug. Tears rolling down your cheeks as you cried softly.

"I'm sorry, (Y/N)." Miguel whispered as he wrapped his arms around you, bringing you back inside.

"I-I was s-so s-s-scared! M-Miguel, p-please..." You whimpered into his chest, then gasped moving away, "S-Sorry! I-I'm getting your shirt d-"

"I don't care about my clothes," Miguel shut the door and pulled you back into his embrace, "How are you? No lingering pain from that explosion earlier?"

This a new. Your eyes widen as tears rolled down your cheeks as Miguel observed you. He was worried about you. Asking about how you were doing. No one had ever asked if you were ever doing okay. Shaking, you gripped Miguel's sleeves and hugged him again.

"Thank you," You whispered. Miguel sighed as he stroked your hair,

"Sit down, Mi pequeño conejito (my little bunny). I need to talk to you,"

You slowly followed Miguel to your couch, rubbing your eyes. You sat beside him, noticing the furrow in his brows. This was the most annoyed you ever seen him. You played with your sleeves, worried about what this could be about.

"I need you to know about what else I do, aside from being a CEO at Alchemax."

Miguel glanced at you, watching you fidget in your seat. He scoffed lowly, wondering what you were nervous about now. Gripping his hands, Miguel tried to hold this out as longer. It was always a risk telling someone about his mafia business. He had to secure their silence before revealing his secret.

But how could he do that to you?

You could have gotten injured today because of the Goblin's bullshit. Miguel wanted to protect those he cherished. His mafia group was made to protect the innocent, despite how it seems. Fixing his posture, Miguel turned towards you.

"(Y/N), what do you know about the mafia?" He asked, making eye contact with you. You flinched,

"Um...I've watched...the G-Godfather."

"Dios Mio. (My God). Alright, my fault there, I set the bar too low," He said with a grin, "How do you feel about underworld business?"

"Hm...Not sure...what you mean,"

"(Y/N), is there anything you know about the criminal world?" Miguel asked, honestly wondering your innocence. You shook your head,

"N-Not really, just that...it's bad stuff. Um, I-I was always told...t-to keep my nose down...a-and not...not know about anyone."

Miguel raised you chin, his thumb trailing your cheek. His eyes motioned you to come closer, to which you did. Miguel could see the curiosity in your eyes. The anticipation you had the closer to got to him. Miguel kept his hand against your cheek, his body turning to face yours.

"How would you feel if I was one of those bad people?" Miguel whispered, his other hand bringing you waist closer to him.

"Y-You're not...bad to me," You whispered.

"Oh, but I am,"

Miguel's smirk grew wider as he sat you on his lap, his lips drawing closer to yours. Once he had you secured, Miguel stole your lips in a deep kiss. Your lips were soft and your grip was light. It was strange, but Miguel felt a connection.

--------

You trembled slightly as you drew closer to Miguel. Your body was getting hotter as your heart raced faster. Once you were on his lap, you resisted a whimper. His touch was so soft and warm. He was gentle as he stole your lips with a kiss.

You felt weak as Miguel kissed you. His kisses were deep, rough, but somehow kind. His hand held your head while his other held your waist. You could feel your body heating up. Parting your lips for air, you whimpered lowly as Miguel took the opportunity to slide his tongue inside your mouth.

Another whimper escaped your throat as you gripped onto Miguel's shirt. As if he understood, Miguel broke the kiss, letting you catch your breathe.

"Sorry, got carried away there," Miguel whispered, holding your waist still. You shook your head,

"I-It's fine...I enjoyed it." You admitted shyly.

Miguel raised a brow as you stopped shaking. He raised his hand to your cheek again, watching you nuzzle into his palm. He smiled, finally giving into what Peter said. Miguel pulled you into a hug, letting you rest against him as he stared at your shitty cieling.

You belonged to him now. Miguel was going to hold off telling you about his mafia business. As much as he wanted to inform you now, Miguel had to make sure you were secured with him before saying anything. It will take some time though.

"Miguel," You whispered, slowly falling asleep, "I...made you...some pumpkin cookies,"

"I'll make sure to try them," Miguel hummed.

Once you fell asleep, Miguel inhaled deeply. You smelled delicious, probably from your soap. Miguel rubbed your back, his eyes glancing at the rim of your shirt. He wanted to see what you were hiding, but he knew that you needed to tell him.

That and he might lose his temper if there was something he did not want to see.

"Best not to think of that. Let me just enjoy this moment."

Closing his own eyes, Miguel decided to rest. He was comfortable with having you in his arms. This was a first and defiantly, not the last.

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next chapter

@migueloharacumslut @18lkpeters @deputy-videogamer @leahnicole1219 @synamonthy @thedevax @jolynesposts @thraetor @freehentai @2099hitmylineyline @vvampir3s @dontfollowmepleaseitsannoying @secretadmirerisnowonline @jadeloverxd @bunnibitez @oharasfilipinawife @randomgoosegame @lilbanas @daisy-artfield @axi-moore @mimiemie @darkfairy102190 @jazzyj1011 @mcmiracles @innercreationflower @spoderssimp @thel0velykey190 @moonvoidpng @yougavemeyourheartyouknow @scaleniusrm @love4saturn @nyxgoddessofchaos13 @slutty-chronicles @ghstypaint @migueloharastruelove @brainmatterdump @a060403 @trendyharold @yannauauau @kimivixen @angel-xx-1 @nxrdamp @miguelzslvtz @@lynxslokley

[wings-of-ink]

Checking in - Author Updates - Quick Poll

Hello all! I hope you are all doing well!

I wanted to check-in. I don't have a ton to say on development, just wanted to keep you in the loop on where I am at personally since it tends to affect production speed. I also have a question for you at the bottom.

As I've posted about before, this year has brought about some challenges for me. There aren't a ton of good developments on that front, and my job is being...difficult. The (technical) good news is that I am still employed, but some days I wish I weren't. (I'd much rather be writing IFs, lol.) There is still uncertainty about the future of my job because it is at the mercy of the whims of my government. But what is more pressing currently is that my employer has opted to treat its employees worse (let me tell you, this is a feat because they've never really treated us well), by making our lives and jobs harder. I've made some "worst-case scenario" plans to prepare, so I'm just getting by one day at a time. Oh...and I also have needed to work overtime again, so that's another time suck there. Ugh. In May, I'm taking a couple days of off for me to rest.

In more recent news, I am doing physical therapy...yippy! In recent months I have struggled with my right shoulder. I assumed it was one of those "you're in your late 30s" pains, and I just dealt with it. Don't do that, by the way. I have a very bad habit of just doing with little regard for pain and discomfort. But, it got difficult to hug without pain, and nothing messes with my huggin'. We really don't know what is wrong with my shoulder/arm, but I'm doing virtual (oooh shiny) PT (not the Silent Hill variety) to hopefully correct the issue. If I don't see results, I will need expensive tests and scans. No worries currently, though, I don't think this will slow me down much at all. I can still write and I don't experience any discomfort when I do.

I'm also still working on a coding class, which is self-paced, but I'm sticking to a lesson schedule to make sure I get it done. I would really love to be able to make improvements of my own to GC or even make my own Twine Template someday.

So, in more fun development news, Chapter 6 is growing steadily. And so is Chapter 5, technically. If you missed it, check out this Tumblr ask where I talk a bit about that. The ask and answer contain some slight spoilers for Ch 5 & 6, but nothing too specific.

Chapter 5 is up by a bit over 1500 words, if you're curious, and Chapter 6 is up to over 69k words. I am wrapping up a big moment for Zahn, which might be a bit heavy. After that, there's a more fun moment, which will present a few coding challenges for me, but I'm looking forward to it. *rubs hands together like housefly*

Finally, I have a question for subscribers or those who may want to sub in the future. I find myself wondering what else to post about at times. Especially when I have inordinately busy weeks, I just can't think of things that you may want to see other than peeks at the chapter. I sincerely wish I had more time to add more projects. I have so many ideas kicking around in my head...

So, I was wondering if you were interested in seeing things other than God-Cursed that I have worked on. These would be things that may or may not become much of anything later, so I wasn't sure if there would be much pull to see them (or if it would just be a cruel tease, lol). I have an incomplete IF that I did to help me learn Twine a couple of years ago. I used it to just get acquainted because I am very much a hands-on learner. It's a humorous and simple story (loosely) based on an actual time in my personal life. I have debated about finishing it. I have a couple of others as well where I was playing with a story idea to see how it felt. I also have a complete romance novel which I am slowly editing for publication.

Patreon, Ko-fi links if you want them.

So that's all for me. If anything big happens, I will let you know! ^_^

Take care, everyone!

~Lunan

[riki-riks-chick]

Senior Year CH.1 ︱N.RK

riki x reader (high school au)

yn is having a hellish year, but one boy makes it all the more bearable.

cw: fluff! bullying, high school, yn plays handball, toxic parents, toxic home life, swearing, slight verbal abuse.

wdct: 1.8k

requested series!

to the person who requested, pls give me feedback on whether this is good or not bc I WILL rewrite b4 continuing to part two. tyy <3

chapter 2 - chapter 3 - chapter 4 - chapter 5

┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉

Third Person POV~

 "I'm actually quite shocked. You're doing exceedingly well.. I got a few emails from coaches who watched our last game.. If you're serious about handball when season starts, you might get a scholarship." Your coach explains, and you're genuinely shocked. Sure you'd been training your ass off, but no one usually acknowledges it.

"Really?.. A scholarship where?" You ask as she smiles, amused at your excitement. "The states... Some school in Virginia."  She explains as your eyes widen. "The states!? My mom would never let me go to the states."

"She's not in control of you once you graduate.. You're good.. Don't let her hold you back.. Now, go home after school and rest up.. We have practice tomorrow after school."

You leave, and rather than going home, you head to your job. Working at some burger shack that everyone at your school came to. It wasn't too bad, but you hated being noticed. 

And just to your dismay, these three cheerleaders, that love to make your life, hell walked in. 

You just happened to be the only employee on the register so you had no choice but to take their orders. 

And as you did so, begrudgingly, one of them spoke up. "Aren't you that loser from third period?.." 

You sigh, avoiding her gaze as you finish finalizing their order. "That'll be $23.45.." You ignore her remark, simply wanting to finish the order. She scoffs though, arms crossing tightly across her chest. "Are you not gonna answer me?... Fucking loser."

She pays for the order before walking over to some random seat to wait around for it, and you let out a sigh of relief. 

They've messed with you before, and you simply ignore it. It's better to take the shit than lose your job that you so desperately need, and worked hard to get.

You call the number for their order after a short while, giving them their drinks last as the tallest one of the girls scoffs. "This is the wrong drink." She then takes it out of the holder, throwing it at you, which results in you getting soaked in diet coke. It was, in fact, the right drink.

"What is wrong with you?" You try not to raise your voice, makeup and hair ruined, clothes soaked and sticking irritatingly against your skin, and she's just standing there with a smirk on her face. "You dumb bitch. Can't even get an order right." Just as you're about to retaliate, knowing that you didn't even make her order, someone grabs her wrist, tugging her away from the counter.

"That's enough.. Do you always go around giving people hell? At school, and now here..?" You glance up at the much taller figure gripping your offenders wrist, and you're slightly shocked at who it is.

It's the one boy that you've never heard speak in class, never seen him interact with other people despite his teammates on the basketball team. And yet he's popular.. Tall, handsome, and quiet. It's hard not to notice him.

When you finally snap back to reality, the three girls are storming out of the place and the boy is still standing in front of you, Nishimura Riki.

You've never imagined making eye contact with him, or speaking to him, but when his deep brown eyes meet yours, you immediately glance away, too flustered to continue looking him in the eyes.

He smiles gently, and there's a hint of pity in his eyes. "I'm sorry that happened.. Are you okay?..." His voice is slightly deep, and definitely nicely toned. You simply nod at his question, remembering that you're covered in soda.

"I'm fine.. I can take your order.." You try to deflect but he shakes his head. "No, let me take you home so you can change.. That can't be comfortable for you." 

His voice is very persuasive, and you decide not to argue, telling him to wait before walking into the kitchen to talk to your manager. 

"Mr. Rio...?" You inquire softly as the man glances up from his position at the grill, working on an order. "What happened?" He question, adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose.

"Some girl threw her drink at me...." Your explanation leaves him to nod understandingly. "Just go home.. I'll handle everything until I can call another person here." 

You question whether he's sure or not before grabbing your stuff and rounding the counter. Riki grabs your stuff for you, carrying your book bag and your waterbottle as he gestures for you to follow him. You follow him towards his car and it's nice, a black mercedes. You're already regretting your decision to let him take you home.

"I can't get in your car like this.." You sigh as he shakes his head. "It's fine.. I'll clean of the seat afterwards.."

You refuse at his words. "No... I don't wanna cause you any trouble..." You argue as he rolls his eyes. "Fine then..." He get in the driver's seat, reaching into the duffle bag in the backseat as he pulls put a towel, putting it on the seat. "Come on. Now I won't even have to worry about cleaning the seat."

You sigh, still hesitant, but you still get into the car. He smiles once you're seated, leaning over the console to reach for your seatbelt, fastening it for you.

"So, where do you live..?" 

The car ride to your house is excruciatingly silent. You're awkward, and he doesn't know how to speak to you. It's just terrible.

"This is my house.." You speak up quietly as he stops the car. "Well.. I guess I'll see you at school tomorrow?.." He asks as you nod, unfastening your seat belt and scrambling to get out of the car. "What was your name again?..." He asks as you sigh nervously. "I'm Y/n... L/n Y/n..." You answer as he nods. "Nice. I'm Nishimura Riki.."

And like an idiot, you respond, "I know..." Riki chuckles, smiling. "Then you'll know we have class together.. Don't forget to say hi."

He then drives off, leaving you on the pavement dumbfounded. After a few minutes, you shake it off, heading inside as you take off your shoes. Just to your luck, your mom is on her way out. 

"What are you doing home?.." Your mom questions, brows furrowed inquisitively as she slid into her sneakers. 

"Some girl threw a drink at me at work, so my boss let me go home..." You explain as she scoffs. "You're so weak... Your sister would've kept working.. Learn to endure."

And then she leaves, grabbing her keys before slamming the front door behind her. You hear the lock click shortly after, letting out a sigh of relief.

You hated being compared to your sister. She graduated with honors, and you're barely keeping A's and B's... She's just better... And your mom is no help, constantly comparing you to her. It's definitely not fair because your sister is far from perfect, but you try not to let it haunt you.

The first thing you do is shower, the icky feeling of the soda making your clothes cling to you uncomfortably. After showering, you wash the clothes to avoid the soda staining them permanently. Once all of that is handled, you're rummaging through the kitchen for something decent to eat. In the end, you're settling for pizza rolls and some instant ramen. 

After eating the very random meal, you head upstairs to work on your homework, but to your luck, you left it in the cute boy's car. 

Great, another assignment to fail. You think to yourself as you open your laptop, ready to email your teacher in hopes they'll be understanding. Just as you're about to hit send, a notification sounds on your phone, the screen illuminating with a text from an unknown number. 

You open it, and to your luck its Riki. 

[Hey, it's Riki. I found your backpack in the backseat... I would bring it back, but I'm busy tonight.. Is it okay if I give it back tomorrow?] 

You sigh at the text, deciding to just forget the email and hope that homeroom gives you enough time to complete the homework.

[Yeah.. Tomorrow is fine... I need it during homeroom.]

[Great, I'll be there as soon as school starts.]

You thank him before setting your phone on the desk, sighing loudly. This day has been terrible, practice sucked, you got a drink thrown at you, and now your backpack is at some boy's house all because you accepted a ride home.

You just decide to push everything aside, getting in bed and watching random corny kdramas until you fall asleep.

It's rare that you ever get a good night's rest. If you hadn't left work early, you'd barely be home at 8pm... Luckily you got to sleep a little earlier, but just as quickly as you got lucky, you got unlucky.

You wake up to loud sounds coming from downstairs, and you're already aware of the familiar yelling voices. 

You leave your room, heading quietly down the stairs as you hear your parents yelling, something about money and your dad being irresponsible. 

You're used to the banter, and sometimes you just filter it out, but the sounds of broken glass was slightly alarming.

You peek into the kitchen, your parents are at each other's throats, and eventually your mom just yells for your dad to get out.

The man manages one last rude remark before leaving the house, the door slamming loudly behind him.

Just as your mom walks out of the kitchen, you try to ask if she's alright, she simply pushes past you, heading upstairs quietly.

Your sister still isn't home. God knows what she's out doing this time of night, but you're sure it isn't working.

Almost every last penny of your paycheck goes to your mom, and your sister's paycheck is never the same amount. You know for sure she's blowing it off selfishly, and your mom knows too, but she doesn't care.

One time you bought a new pair of shoes with your check since your family wasn't too far behind on bills, and boy you never heard the end of it. That's why you just give all the money you make to your mother.

And yet she still favorites your older sister. But you try your best to please her anyway. In the end you really don't have a way to impress her, unless you won the lottery maybe.. 

You genuinely just want a normal senior year, and at this point you'll do anything to get it.

[foli-vora]

one step at a time: ch 5.

pero tovar x f!reader

masterlist | series masterlist

A/N: lord almighty, it's been a fucking while. I admit to abandoning these two for other things and that's my bad, but I hope I can rekindle this almost dead fire because these two are so fucking fun to write and I enjoyed getting back into their little growing dynamic. Hope you enjoy! x

Word count: just over 2.3k I think

Warnings: Tovar needs to understand the five second rule only applies in certain locations and in public is not one of them, bit of sexism on his part, alcohol and drunken shenanigans, some dude being a prick, swearing, he's warming up to you slowly but surely lmao

! please note that this story is for 18+ only due to future explicit scenes !

He’s been standing there for a good ten minutes, studying the methodical spinning of the drum, eyes following the clothes and how they tumble in the soapy water. You don’t know how the original clothing he appeared in will handle the vigorous cycle of a twenty-first century washing machine, but he seemed intrigued enough to give it a go.

With Tovar now living with you for an unknown amount of time, it pushed you to actually get a few needed things done around the apartment—like the pile of laundry you had been pretending to not see every time you walked into your bedroom. And now, with having an extra person creating their own build up of clothing, the pile was something you could no longer ignore.

Along with your bank account.

Tovar had noticed the steadily declining stash of snacks in the cupboards that had yet to be replaced, but had remained surprisingly quiet about it all. You had been braced for some sort of adult tantrum about sugar, but instead you started to notice little differences in the way he acted around food.

He doesn’t raid the cupboards anymore. In fact, he had asked before getting any sort of snack a few days ago. He waited for you to have your fill at lunch and dinner before having seconds. You had told him not to worry—you were getting back into work and already had a couple of projects lined up, but so far his new habits hadn’t wavered.

“Is there nothing I can do to help you, loquita?” He had asked over breakfast, and he was so earnest in his questioning, so eager to help you in any way that he could financially that you felt your heart do a little somersault. “I want to work, let me help you while I am here.”

His later stubborn declaration that he wouldn’t let you shoulder the burden alone after refusing his offer didn’t help whatever feelings were stirring to life in your body, but the comment about how women shouldn’t even be working and it was a man’s responsibility to provide did help cover them.

Dick.

Tovar slips into the chair next to you, apparently tired of the magnificence of a washing machine, and sighs. “I am bored.”

“Deal with it.”

You tilt your open book away from his prying eyes as he strains to read over your arm, and fight a smile as he grumbles angrily to himself, slouching down in the aged plastic chair and crossing his arms like a child. Just when you think the silence is going to stay around, that he was just accepting defeat and waiting like a normal human being, he pipes up beside you.

“How do you do that?” It’s almost a demand.

You tear your eyes away from your book and raise a brow in question at him.

“The… the thing in your mouth. How do you blow it like that?”

Your tongue forms another bubble of gum before he can finish his questioning, and you fight the creepings of a grin starting to tug at the corner of your lips when his scowl merely deepens at the sharp pop.

“Bubblegum,” you offer as an explanation, reaching into your bag and offering him the crinkled packet. “It took me a while to learn when I was a kid, but you’ve just gotta have patience. It might be tricky for you.”

He half heartedly scoffs, “I have patience.”

You snort in disagreement, “Okay. Chew it for a while, but don’t swallow it. Once it’s all soft and wet, you can start trying.”

He makes a noise when he determines the fruity treat is ready, and you lay out simple instructions for him to follow along, which he does.

For the most part.

It’s only a few tries later when you hear the gum land on the floor after an overzealous attempt at blowing a bubble, the man practically staring daggers at the pale pink glob a foot or two in front of him.

You eye the wet lump of gum with a snicker and reach for a fresh stick, “Obviously don’t blow it that hard. No, don’t—”

It’s too late. He pinches the well chewed treat from the grimy surface of the floor and puts it back in his mouth before resuming his efforts. Your face is pinched in horror when his eyes finally land back on you, and he tilts his head in question. He’s not serious.

“Get that out of your mouth right now.”

He bats you away when you reach a hand for him, and you practically throw your book down onto your bag to get at him with two hands. You stand over him, fighting his half hearted attempts to get you away from him easily and squeeze at his jaw, fingers digging into his lips to try and pry his mouth open.

“Tovar, spit it out!”

His head turns away from your grasp and he growls, “No—”

“I’m serious, spit it out!”

“Get off me, woman!”

“You don’t eat gum off the floor! What is wrong with you? Spit it out!”

—

Music fills the little bar around the corner from your apartment, conversation buzzing in the air filled with the occasional laugh. It’s your favourite place to go when you feel like you’ve been spending maybe a little too long cramped on your couch with minimal human interaction. Tricia, a friend from college, owned it with her girlfriend Lily, and gave you quite the wonderful little discount whenever you decided to swing by.

A good thing to have under your sleeve when you’ve got a bottomless pit of a man to feed and entertain for however long.

“Are you still sulking?”

A sharp scoff.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” you sigh, placing the little cocktail list down and levelling him with a look of annoyance. “Cut it out, you manchild. You ate gum off the floor and that’s gross.”

“You didn’t have to yell at me,” Tovar replies grumpily, arms still crossed over his chest and lips pursed into a little disgruntled pout.

Sighing, your head dips into a nod and you hold your hands up in a show of surrender. “You’re right. I’m sorry for yelling, okay? Can you forgive me?”

“Say it like you mean it.”

“You’re not serious."

“Try me.”

He wants to play? Fine.

“Oh sweet and wonderful Tovar," you ooze, tone honeyed and apologetic, "how appalled I am by my previous actions after you ate gum off the filthy laundromat floor. Please, won't you find it in your heart to forgive me lest I throw myself onto this very floor and weep at your feet?"

He’s thoroughly unimpressed, staring unblinkingly back at you before he smacks his lips quietly and tilts his head.

“Dramatic, but I accept.”

“Good. Now let’s get drunk.”

“Fine,” he sniffs, making a show of appearing uninterested in the offer but the telltale signs of a smile start to tug at the corners of his lips. “Watching you make a fool of yourself will amuse me.”

“Don’t be mean,” you chide with a grin, picking the menu back up and looking over the list of options. “How about a cosmo? Mojito? Sex on the Beach?”

He has a look of confusion when you peer up at him after a beat of silence. “There are no beaches around here.”

“Not actual sex on the beach, Tovar. It’s a drink. God, do you really think they’d have that on a menu?”

“A man can dream.”

“Oh, he has a sense of humour tonight,” you drawl sarcastically to yourself. “Think I prefer you all quiet and sulky.”

“Now who’s being mean?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. Screw it—let’s get shots. You gonna be able to hold your drink, mercenary man?”

His lips curl into a small smirk at your challenge and it seems to hit somewhere deep in your stomach. You swallow the sudden dryness in your throat, desperately fighting the flush of warmth that threatens to spread along your skin.

“I guess we’ll find out, won’t we, loquita?”

Were they a good idea? Yes, but you’re sure you’ll think differently in the morning.

The first round burns, and you relish in the fire that spreads along your throat as it goes down. He takes it well, merely swallowing it down and chasing the remnants of alcohol from his lips with a quick roll of tongue.

Something you definitely don’t watch with a wave of warmth tingling along down your spine. 

The second goes down the same, albeit birthing a pleasant buzz to your system that extends to Tovar.

Surprisingly, he’s a talker. The alcohol loosens him up, and soon enough he’s telling you of his time… world—whichever it is. He tells you of his friend William, and the adventures they had. His storytelling is immersive, and soon you’re picturing him riding his horse into a small battle donned in that hulking armour and swinging that heavy sword of his.

Hot.

You wisely keep that fleeting thought to yourself.

He asks questions. So many questions you find yourself talking and talking and talking. He takes it all in, never once making you feel that he was bored or uninterested in your train of steadily drunken rambling. You order cocktails, and watch in amusement as he eyes the colourful little umbrella and the lit sparkler that comes in his glass.

“You can write your name with them,” you let him know with an air of childish excitement, making a mental note to swing by the store and find some for another day as he blinks in vague curiosity, watching as it fizzles out into nothing.

You probably should’ve called it a night when the dance floor started calling to you, so you ordered another round and dragged your new friend along with you to the sea of swaying bodies. He takes to it as much as you expected.

“Come on, Tovar,” you coax with a laugh. “Dance!”

His feet remain planted heavily on the ground, completely unmoving despite the bodies that dance around him. He watches you blankly as you grab at his hands and swing his arms back and forth somewhat in time to the steady beat. 

“This is not dancing,” he states plainly, eyeing the way you shake your hips and duck under his arm in a makeshift twirl.

“Well obviously, you’re not moving!”

It’s during another stupid little twirl that you catch the eyes of a girl, entrapped and clearly uncomfortable with the arms winding their way around her small frame. You drop Tovar’s hands immediately and march towards her, alcohol fuelling your confidence and stamina for confrontation.

“Hey, she said no,” you cut in with a small glare, shoving the arm of thick muscle away from the young red head who tries to pull herself out of the stranger's touch.

She shoots you a thankful glance, taking the outstretched hand of one of her friends deeper in the crowd but she chooses to linger in silent support as the man turns his attention to you.

“Mind your business, bitch,” he spits drunkenly. 

“Oh, charming,” you scoff in his face, brows pulled tightly together as you eye him. “Leave the girls alone and go find your own friends to harass.” 

The blonde meathead scoffs, swaying unsteadily on his feet. With her undefeated sense for feeling when trouble is afoot in her bar, Trish quickly appears from nowhere, stepping up beside you and nodding to the door.

“Think you’ve had enough now. Time to call it a night.”

“No, I’m allowed a drink.”

“Sure you are, but not here. Out.”

“Make me—”

Hands suddenly curl into the shirt covering his broad shoulders from behind, and they tug sharply, the idiot stumbling and swearing as Tovar all but drags him through the crowd to the door. You follow unsteadily behind them, watching in keen entertainment as Tovar gives the man a firm shove through the door and he stumbles out into the street with one final shout.

“Tovar,” you sing in faux disapproval, grinning when he merely turns and gives an innocent shrug.

“What? He said ‘make me’. So I did.”

“Damn, you want a job here?” Trish grins teasingly, crossing her arms and appraising Tovar with keen eyes. “You’re already doing better than the idiot we’ve got now.”

“Alright,” he agrees readily, taking you both by surprise.

“Tovar, you don’t need a job,” you insist, your words maybe coming out with a slight slur as the bar spins in your peripheral. Damn tequila. “I said I can handle it.”

“When could you start?” Trish asks with interest, ignoring your refusal.

“Tomorrow.”

She considers it for a quiet moment before nodding. “Done.”

“What? No. Trish, no. He can’t.”

“Why not?”

“He can’t.”

She snorts, waving away the issue with a flick of well manicured blood red nails. “I’ll pay cash, I don’t care. All I know is your man is scary, and I need scary here. He’ll keep everyone in line frownin’ like that.”

You roll your eyes. “He’s not ‘my man��. He’s my lost little time travelling mercenary and I’m gonna get him home to his horse.”

Trish studies you blankly from head to toe before pursing her glossed lips. “Maybe you should call it a night, too.”

“I’m being serious, I hit him with my car—”

She glances at Tovar who seems genuinely amused watching you stutter and stumble over your words. “Get her home, and I’ll see you tomorrow night. Six pm sharp, don’t be late.”

“Ah loquita, what am I to do with you, hm?” He asks, gently taking you by the arm and leading you out of the bar with a roguish grin. He’s enjoying this far too fucking much.

You frown at him, stumbling over your feet and clutching at his jacket to keep from falling over. He steadies you easily with an arm around your waist, the smile not once wavering from his lips. You poke at it with a half hearted glare, watching as it merely spreads wider.

“Stop laughing at me.”

“Oh, I would never,” he replies in mock seriousness.

“Mm,” you hum, leaning comfortably into him as he leads the way back to the apartment. Thank god he’s got a good memory—you’d be screwed trying to navigate your way home like this. “Tovar, can we get nuggets?”

[sweetestcaptainhughes]

the past is best in the past - CH 1

Word Count - 844

Summary - What happens if after years of hiding Quinn finally finds you.

Warnings - mentions of running from the past but no specifics

Author's Note - I'm gonna be serious with you guys when I say I have no idea what this is and I definitely left it very open ended. If you guys want I can continue this as a little serious vs a blurb which is what it is right now.

Next Chapter

Living in Vancouver was supposed to be a new beginning for you. Vancouver was supposed to be the answer to your nightmares. Vancouver was supposed to be a fresh start, somewhere no one knew you, knew your family, knew your past. Living here since you were 18 in pure bliss of your new identity so imagine your surprise when the boy who was your first love walks into the bar that you work at and he catches you off guard while your in the middle of cashing someone out and trying to grab a new bottle of rum for someones drink they ordered. 

“Y/N/N” Quinn speaks in an unsure tone, as if he’s just seen a ghost. Freezing at the fact someone has called you by a nickname that your brain doesn’t even respond to anymore,in fact, no one has done that in almost 7 years. Turning around you make eye-contact with your Quinn. Quinn who once upon a time was yours you remind yourself but not anymore. 

Squinting your eyes to make sure it isn’t some sick kind of trick your mind is playing on you and that it is in fact Quinn leaning forward almost half over the bar. “Actually it’s just Y/N now. No one calls me that anymore Quinn.” Try to make your voice as flat as possible, as if you aren’t affected by seeing the man in front of you. 

“Right. Sorry - uh - um. What are you doing here?” Quinn wasn’t as good as hiding his emotions about seeing you - who practically is a ghost of his past in front of him after so many years. Suddenly retreating back to the shy nervous boy you knew all those years ago, despite looking so much older now with his 5 o’clock shadow and sharper features. 

“Working Quinn. Now either order something or leave before my boss starts asking questions as to why you aren’t.” Rolling your eyes, as you finish making the rum and coke and walking off to hand it to the middle-age woman who ordered it. Walking back to Quinn it’s as if he has finally processed your words as you give him ‘what the fuck are you gonna do’ look. 

“Right - uh - I’ll have a - uh - miller on draft please.” he asks, his hands going into his front pockets as he bounces on his feet. ‘Somethings never change’ you think to yourself because that was his tell growing up that his anxiety was growing. Part of you hated yourself for being the reason you were giving him anxiety now, none of this was his fault. 

“Here.” As you hand him the beer you just finished pouring. “Are you gonna start a tab or cash out?” you ask looking at him in the eyes for the first time since he called your name, your breath catching. 

“Here tab.” As he hands you his card to keep for the night. “Hey Y/N/N. Sorry Y/N.”

“Yeah Quinn?” your voice is much quieter now as your nervousness is starting to get to you. 

“Why’d you leave me?” His voice breaking at his own question, taking a deep breath to try and keep his emotions at bay. 

“I can’t do this right now at work. But Quinn I never left you, I left that town.” feeling your eyes threaten to spill with tears. 

“But I was in that town.” he argues, his voice defensive, his face becoming hard as the anger is starting to take over as his body works through the floodgates of emotions of seeing you. 

“And I am sorry. But it was killing me being there and I needed to choose myself and I am sorry that wasn’t you. I am. But you deserved better and you still do. I can’t do this. I gotta get back to work. I guess see ya around Quinn.”  Turning around trying to go to the other side of the busy bar where your coworkers are running around each other. 

“Wait how long? How long have you been in Vancouver?” he begs to know the answer. 

Taking a deep breath you decide to tell him the truth because maybe that will help him. Maybe that will help him move on, which you know he hasn’t because Jack still talks to you once a year. He doesn’t know where you live but he calls you on your birthday, and he tells you how everyone is. He told you how Quinn never really moved on, and maybe this terrible ugly truth will help him realize the truth. The one ugly truth you have known since the beginning, someone as good as Quinn Hughes was never supposed to be with someone as terrible and broken as you. Letting your deep breath out that you didn’t realize you were holding you answered, “ Quinn I’ve been in Vancouver since before you were even drafted.” Turning around fully because even if you felt like you deserved it, you couldn’t stomach watching Quinn sit his beer down and walk out of the bar.

[hiddenwritingsintheworld]

Cruel Summer Ch. 6

Donations | Thoughts & Feelings | Cruel Summer Series | Chapter 5

As you both got settled in a cozy little booth, he reached across the table and surprised you by grabbing your hand. “Y/N…I,” he cleared his throat, “I have something I want to say and I want you to just listen to me before you say anything okay?” he said as you smiled and started to nod, “Ok-” “Okay good, because it's really important, and just know I’m taking a huge step here and it’s all so crazy I know, with your tour and me just divorced a few months ago and I just, I want you to understand that I will always be your friend no matter what-,” you laughed softly. “Uh, Chris...what are you trying to say?” you raised an eyebrow at him as he chuckled looking down at your hand in his. 

“I’d like to date you.” he said as your eyes widened. “What?” you asked softly before glancing around, “Chris, I want that too….” you sighed as he looked down. “There's a but coming isn't there?” he asked as you squeezed his hand. “Not the kind you’re thinking…me…my life, it’s a lot. I have a lot of people who control a lot in my life and I…I don’t want you thinking we will have any type of normalcy…I can definitely try and make things normal, but-,” he chuckled. “Y/N, I know this life is crazy, I completely understand that and accept it. I just…I want to try this, the whole, you and me thing.” he grinned as you did the same. “I want to try it too.” 

-6 Months Later-

The press took every opportunity they could to snag photos of you and Chris as the next few months passed. Neither of you released any statements yet, just letting everything that was new and exciting settle into a good rhythm. Anytime the two of you stepped out somewhere, the press was there to snap photos. You both would giggle at each other as it happened each time, but you didn’t mind. 

The headlines were comical and the fans seemed to go wild for it. A few speculated that you two were just doing this for publicity but you never felt happier to be honest. You were finishing getting ready for the last show before your break when Chris came up behind you and kissed your neck softly. “I’m excited for this break with you, I don’t know if he texted you or not, but Evans invited the crew out to his Rhode Island beach house to celebrate his engagement and I wanted to know if you wanted to go with me?” he smiled in the mirror at you. 

You looked up at him and smiled a little, “Uh no, he didn't text me but I’d love to go with you. That sounds like a lot of fun actually.” you grinned, kissing him softly. Chris grinned at you, as you turned and stood up, kissing him again. “Promise me after this last show tonight we can just disappear for a while?” you asked as he chuckled, “I assure you we will have nice, long days,” he bent down and kissed you gently, “and slow, romantic evenings.” he whispered against your lips as he pushed a hand into your hair, gripping gently as your hands slid from his stomach, around his hips to his back. “Mmmm why don’t we start on that slow romantic evening tonight? After the concert?” you whispered as he peppered kisses down your jaw and neck. “That was the plan.” he whispered as he nipped your ear softly. 

You giggled before the door opened to the dressing room and Megan appeared before she cleared her throat. “Sorry to interrupt, but we’re on in 10, time to get in the cart.” she told you. You grinned and bit your lip looking up at Chris. “I gotta go…but I'll see you out there.” you said as he grinned down at you. “I’ll be the one in the VIP Tent.” you laughed, “I’ll be in the pink lover suit on stage.” winking you pecked his lips once more before walking out the door. “Can I just admit that you two are PERFECT together?” She gushed as you laughed softly climbing into the cart. “Thank you, I think I know the perfect surprise songs to play tonight.” you beamed happily. 

Chris walked out to the VIP tent smiling and waving at fans, trading friendship bracelets with them and just having a great time interacting with them. “Thank you for treating her like the Queen she is!” a fan yelled in his direction. When he looked over at the girl who had yelled, she couldn’t have been older than 15, she was with a group of teenagers who were dressed like you. Different outfits from various music videos, a couple of them even had outfits that looked like yours you wore on stage during the concert. 

He smiled and waved at them all, the girl who had shouted raised her hands forming a heart at him before pulling off a friendship bracelet. Chris couldn’t help it, they were a bit away from the tent but he had a security guard walk with him as he walked over to the group, chatting with them for a moment as they gave him bracelets. “Would you mind giving this to Y/N? She’s my most favorite role model ever.” the girl spoke up. Chris looked down at the bracelet, she held out. “The beads are all different for the albums she’s put out and…we’ll she helped me out during a really bad time in my life and I just wanted to tell her thank you, even if she doesn’t know how much she helped me.” she said as Chris smiled and nodded. “I’ll make sure she gets it.” she nodded, taking the bracelet and pocketing it. 

Chris went back to the VIP area and couldn’t get thoughts of that girl from his mind, he felt inclined to do something nice for her. “Hey, I need to go backstage and talk to Megan,” he told the guards as the show started. They nodded and guided him back to speak to your manager. 

You were singing, dancing, happier than you ever felt before. You laughed between songs with the dancers, and felt like everything was perfect. That should have been your first clue on how the weekend was going to go at Evans beach house.

Tag List: @adriellej @auriel187 @patzammit @bval-1 (rest of tags are in comments)

[daydream-believin]

Like a Boiled Frog (you don't even scream) [Ch. 5]

[Start Here] + [Next Chapter]

Chapter Summary: Test out fun things like ball pits and claw machines. Meet your fellow members of the Fazbear Family. Realize you've made yourself like, the platonic ideal of a potential cold case homicide. Oops.

Warnings: swearing. animal death? neither of the animals that die are animals. and neither of them actually die...

Word count: 4602

A/n: sorry it took me a little longer but, it's longer now. happy thanksgiving break!

Taglist: @spirit-of-the-hollow

You rest your head against the newly painted wall. The other employees flitted around, but you didn’t care. It’s your break and you’re gonna rest, goddamnit.

“Bloody hell. This holiday rush might shut us down before we even get a proper go at it,”

You had no idea when Michael sidled up next to you, but you didn’t even startle at the sound of his voice. You were too damn tired to care.

“Not gonna lie, kinda worried about when those two go home in half an hour and it’s just going to be me, you, and the trash gang,” you gestured to the dining room in front of you, “Because this clearly isn’t calming down anytime soon,”

“Yeah, I really underestimated just how many people would want pizza at 10 o’clock at night. Lucky for us, we just ran out of dough,”

“Oh goody. So we get to go home?”

Relief wasn’t even the word to describe it.

“Well,” Michael rubbed the back of his neck,

 “Not exactly…”

__

Last night had been so fun! Now that Helpy was up, y’all got to finishing testing out all the games in the arcade. Which wasn’t much, since most of the cabinets were still out of working order, but beside the air hockey table there were a few claw machines. And a ‘ball pit’…

That goddamn cardboard box of balls. You hated ball pits normally. Ball pits, foam pits, pillow pits, any type of pit children hurl themselves into like lemmings, really. But this thing put Dashcon to shame. You wouldn’t be surprised if someone had somehow pissed in it even though it was brand new and hadn’t been exposed to the public yet. This thing’s aura just felt that horrible.

So of course Michael thought it a grand idea to throw Helpy into it.

In his defense, the robot had practically begged him. Even though the little guy couldn’t speak as much as just make noises, he was very persuasive. To be honest, it was pretty cute watching Helpy get so excited at the prospect of doing exactly what he was made to do, help. And he was the only person in the room who feasibly could test the ball pit. So after watching him wade around in there for a bit, you thought nothing of the bear climbing back into Michael’s arms and miming to ask to be tossed back in.

“You wanna jump? Okay, one, two—“ the little bear looked determined as Michael wound up to throw him, “THREE!”

Helpy flew through the air, eyes wide and squeaking in glee.

And then,

CRACK.

You just stood there with your mouth open, staring in disbelief at the sight before you. Beside you Michael whispered a small, “Oh shit…”

Neither of you said a word as you stared at Helpy’s now limp and lifeless body. You could hear your heartbeat.

RIP Helpy, alive for an hour before he broke his little neck. He died doing what he loved: being hurled into ball pits.

Initial shock over with, this was actually pretty funny, and you were trying so very hard not to bust out into laughter. You know, considering this meant another headache for Mike as he would have to fix the robot now. He might not appreciate your entertainment in this situation.

Michael deeply sighed. A bloody shame. And more work.

“NOOooo, little guy!” You approached the little robot, shaking your head as you stared down at him.

You reached a hand down to start picking him up off the floor when Helpy jolted back to life, a loud cartoon ding! playing, promptly giving you a heart attack.

As you clutched at your chest, Helpy got back to his feet and dusted himself off.  He looked up to chirp at you and Mike, giving a thumbs-up with another silly little sound effect to assure you he was all good.

Well, at least you can breathe again at this point. Some Looney Tunes ass shit that Mike’s programmed here. Geez.

Michael gave Helpy a quick check-up to see what he broke but the little robot had only sustained a few scratches and a loose wire here and there, nothing major thanks to Mike’s excellent craftsmanship. Helpy was just as chipper as ever. No harm no foul.

The claw machine tests were a lot less eventful.

Well, no, that’s a lie. After the initial tests proved all four of the machines worked, it quickly became a competition to see which of you could actually win without maintenance-mode turned on.

Spoiler alert. It was Michael. The lucky bastard.

He not only won, either, he got multiple wins as you continued to try, determined to show him you could at least get one. If you were using actual money and not just Fazcoins that Mikey had a bucket of, you’d have already spent a highschool kid’s hard-earned part-timer paycheck. Good thing this is fake and the stakes are so low. But this was about honor at this point.

He leaned against the glass of the machine, smugly watching as you struggled. He had his arms crossed with that cocky smirk you noticed he had whenever you played the arcade games together. You know, in the all-of-two instances that’s happened. The colorful lights of the machine bounced off his features, giving him a bit of a glow as he snickered when you failed once again. Kinda distracting, in combination with the annoying ass carnival music the machine played. It’s kinda cheating. Yeah.

As the loud “you lose” tone played once again, Mikey laughed full-bellied, shoulders shaking, “C’mon, mate. Give up. I don’t think you’re going to do it tonight,”

“No. You shut up,” you childishly stuck your tongue out at him, “I’m going to get it this time, new strategy,”

Michael rolled his eyes, “Sure,”

He’d already won three times, so getting this one wasn’t going to win you the little war you two had. There was technically no point. But you still really really wanted to win at least once. Some kind of driving factor here. Maybe you wanted to wipe that smug grin off his face. Maybe you were trying to impress him. Who knows.

What you did know, however, was that by some miracle, the claw was actually working for you. You stared in disbelief as it dragged the stuffed animal across the air and didn’t drop it this time. You didn’t even realize you had been holding your breath until the “you win!” jingle was loudly blaring from the machine.

“…I did it?” you turned to Michael, “I did it!”

You held up your hand for a high five. He laughed and shook his head in disbelief as he met your hand with his.

“Well I’ll be,” that sounded strange coming from his accent. Mike came around to pat you on the shoulder, “you actually won,”

“You better watch out, I’ll start practicing and give you a run for your money soon,”

“Oh sure,” He bent to pick up the stuffed animal from the prize cubby to put in back in the machine, “I’m SO scare—“

In his hands lied good ol’ psychic friend Fredbear.

Oh. You kinda forgot all about him, busy with Michael. Whoops.

“…I think we should call it a night,” Michael’s voice was now devoid of all playfulness as he turned the plushy around in his hands.

“… Yeah.” you answered dumbly.

Michael started walking off, expecting you to follow. Which you did, of course. Damn. Already in some sort of routine here.

You two made your way to the restaurant’s office, of which you remembered from earlier today when Mike told you it was off-limits and you should never go in there without him. Ominous.

When he opened the door, it just got stranger. It looked like any ordinary run-of-the-mill office. As long as you looked straight forward. If you looked to either side of the room, however, there were GIGANTIC FUCKING VENTILATION OPENINGS?? Like a fully grown adult person could get in there easily without having to crawl on their belly like a snake. An elementary schooler could get in there and run around.

“What in hell—“

“Don’t ask. Explaining it would take way too much time and energy,”

“That’s cryptid as fuck but okay,” you’d pick a different battle than this.

Michael gently placed the Fredbear plushy down on top of the printer, “You comfy Fredbear?”

The stuffed bear did not answer.

“That’s great! Goodnight buddy,”

Michael pushed past you to leave but you stayed there in the doorway, transfixed on the doll. Its eyes bore into you, just like they always did. You really should bring Fredbear home with y—

“Come on!” Michael called to you from the front door.

You shook your head, trance broken, “Yeah!”

You shut the door tightly behind you, even though you knew it wouldn’t make a difference if the haunted plush wanted to be somewhere else. It was more for you than anything.

You almost ran through the door Michael was holding open for you.

Ah, but once in the car, you couldn’t help but be curious and get on Mike’s nerves. As you do.

You turned down the radio to talk, “So. You don’t want your dead baby brother’s bear in the house?”

“Absolutely not. Once you invite them in, they won’t leave you alone,”

Well, that was in fact the deal with ghosts, so you could see it, but,

“You don’t want to be haunted by your own dead brother?”

He sighed, “Look, I’ve already been there, okay? He doesn’t even— and that other little freak’s probably with him too so— I don’t—  It’s not like a fun family bonding experience, Y/n,”

You could give him that. And truth be told, you were tired of living in haunted houses. At least Michael’s place seemed to only be haunted by one singular ghoul, himself. You could handle that. You weren’t sure you could handle more though, so maybe he’s right.

Maybe he’s really right. Why were you even arguing against this? Hoo boy. This godforsaken town is making you crazier already.

Speaking of more ghosts, did he say ‘that other little freak’? There’s two? Did Evan’s ghost have a friend? Strange, you had gotten the impression that the spirit was lonely, like you. And like, that’s why he’s haunting you, right? It was all just more to the mystery. And you didn’t want to be dealing with that mystery 24/7. You and Michael aren’t the Scooby-Doo gang.

“…You’re right.”

Michael sighed and adjusted his grip on the steering wheel. Reaching over, he turned the radio back up.

You wanted to ask him more about the supposed second ghost, but he looked so tense, his knuckles gripping the steering wheel so tightly. Eyes locked forward. It’s probably a conversation that can be had later. It’s not like you’ll be able to forget about it.

 The rest of the ride home was silent.

—

You padded out of the bathroom, now in your official “Fazbear uniform” (Just a red button up with the black jeans you had already been wearing when you rolled into town. You technically didn’t work there so it’s not like you had a uniform shirt or a nametag or any of that) and ready to start your first day at the pizzeria. The pizzeria’s first day at the pizzeria too. Excited wasn’t really the word, but you sure were feeling ready for the onslaught of opening day.

As you made your way into the kitchen, you were met with the sight of one zombie man reading the news on his laptop at the table. Dressed very nicely for the occasion, Michael had on a muted cyan button down with the addition of a gold vest and a navy tie. Dark grey slacks. You know the outfit. Hoo boy. Men in vests. Damn you wish you could wolf whistle.

“Whew-ee, someone’s looking spiffy,” you smirked as you made your way to the table, “we need to take a picture to commemorate the moment, chh-ch,” you mimed taking a snapshot.

“Stop. I look fine,” he grumbled, continuing to read the article about the zoo’s latest baby otter so he didn’t have to look at you.

You noticed that along with his name tag, which said “Manager Mike”, he also had a few vintage looking buttons displaying the faces of the characters pinned to his lapel. Cute.

You hefted yourself onto the tabletop to sit, now looking down at him, “I know. That’s what I said. You look fine,”

Mike finally pulled his attention away from the news to look up at you. He just stared, so after a while you raised your eyebrows in question. He broke away, shaking his head a bit.

“I’m sorry. I—“, he suddenly got very interested in the floor tiles, “I guess I’m just not used to compliments, genuine ones, at least,”

Dammit. You really wish Michael had a working circulatory system. What you wouldn’t give to see this man blush.

But. That’s also really sad. What’s been going on in this poor zombie man’s personal life all these years. You had a sneaking suspicion you knew, with a reaction like that. It was all too familiar.

“That’s okay.. Uh, me—me neither,” you checked your watch to avoid having to look at him this time, “Oh, we need to go. Like right now. We’ll be late,”

Michael stood up at your words, clearly eager to leave this awkward conversation, and offered you a hand to help you get down. Which you didn’t need, because like, you just had to slide off the table and onto your feet. Easy.

But that’s an excuse to hold your hand, isn’t it?

Eh. You might just be making mountains out of molehills here…

——

On the short drive to the pizzeria, Michael almost hit a dog.

Or at least. You hope it was a dog. It had to be a dog… The way it dragged its limp body away into a bush.. So unnaturally… You shivered at the thought…

Well, nevermind all that!

Things were pretty normal before the employees arrived. Just you and Mike doing some last-minute cleaning, such as vacuuming up all the gypsum flecks that had made its way to the dining room floor during reno. Once the kids did get there, though, then things got a little funny. Henry had made up a mask to help Michael blend in more with the aforementioned not-dead people. Although, you personally thought a silly white bear mask made him stick out more. But whatever works.

Oh you needed to see him interact with Helpy when he had the mask on, actually. It would be adorable.

So, about those not-dead people.

You finally got to meet Vanessa and Travis. Turns out they were real after all. Silly you for doubting.

Vanessa was a sweet girl, and very excited to start her first job because it made her feel “all grown up” as she told you while you helped her put all the chairs down in the dining room.

Apart from the regular Fazbear uniform, she had a gajillion kandi bracelets on her wrists over a pair of long fingerless gloves. Like Mike, she also had a bunch of Fazbear character buttons, but these looked much newer. Maybe she got them from her older siblings or just a goodwill in the area. Who knows. To top off the look, her fluffy blond hair had some raccoon rainbow highlights, just so her friends will think she’s dynamite~. Or something.

Travis was. Definitely a guy. Look up “white guy stock image” and then put a red Fazbear uniform shirt onto him. There you go. That’s Travis. Mike had him prepping in the kitchen, so you didn’t see much of him. And he’s probably not important, so let’s skip over him.

One person you had been waiting to meet, however, was not there. The ever-mysterious Uncle Henry. Elusive too, it seemed. You don’t know what you were picturing. Not an older Michael, since you knew Henry was the stepdad. The dad who stepped up. Maybe a humanized Freddy? Guess it’ll remain a mystery.

Right after the clock struck 10:00am, just an hour before opening, Michael came out of his office, keys in hand, muttering to himself. You watched him turn about the room to get his bearings, secretly entertained at how silly he looked in that bear mask. Once he spotted you and Vanessa, he made his way for the dining room to talk to y’all, hanging in the doorway,

“Vanessa, you’re in charge while I’m out,”

Vanessa quickly put up her hand in salute, promising that she wouldn’t let him down.

Well. Okay then. That kinda stung. He trusted this teenager more than you? Fine then y—

“Y/n, c’mon let’s go,” he waved his hand towards the door, expecting you to leave with him.

Oh. Okay… Alright. You could vibe with that. Cool mystery errand time. Hopefully it’s not something insane like hiding a body, but hey, if it was, then that means Mike extra trusts you.

Thankfully he took off that stupid bear mask while in the car. Probably way too hot to keep it on, but you liked to think that he just felt comfortable as himself around you. That being said, you get the feeling that if you had met him a little later than you did, when he was wearing the mask, he probably wouldn’t be as confident. Maybe even terrified of letting you see him like this…

Thankfully, none of that mattered.

It wasn’t too long, just about fifteen minutes, before you were pulling into the driveway of some random house in a more rural part of town. The house was pretty big and looked like it was probably fancy too once upon a time. But time had taken its toll on the place by now. A flipper would have a field day turning this thing into a soulless modern home.

Michael visibly tensed up as he pulled into the driveway. You put a hand on his shoulder, attached to the arm still strangling the steering wheel. His eyes darted to yours as you made contact, and he looked about ready to go into fight or flight, so you didn’t break it.

“Hey,” you moved your thumb slowly along his bicep, trying to calm him down, “I don’t know what’s in there, but at least you’ve got backup.”

He continued to stare you down.

You pointed to your chest, “Me. I’m the backup,”

He broke away from eye contact, shaking his head in exasperation, “Yes, I know... This— This is just a lot… I try to stay away from here as much as humanly possible,”

You rubbed his shoulder gently, as you didn’t quite know what would hurt him at this point, or at least accidentally break his skin. He had to be pretty fragile. Pretty easy to rip apart. In fact you weren’t entirely sure how he was even being held together in the first place. Magic, you guessed… or dismissed, more like it.

“I can go, uh, do whatever you need to do, so you don’t have to—,” you began.

“No,” he cut you off, “He won’t open the door for you, might try to shoot you, even. He doesn’t know you,”

“Ah, yeah, you’re right I…” you rubbed the back of your neck, “I keep forgetting none of this is any of my business… Wait, I’m sorry he might what?”

Mike let out a pained chuckle, “It’s fine,” he rubbed the bridge of his nose, “it’s not like he’s going to open the door for me either,”

Well, apparently Michael isn’t too worried about the “the person inside has a gun” part. So it’s probably fine, like he said. Probably…

Man, you’ve been putting a lot of trust in a zombie you met like three days ago.

Hmmm. Well. It’s not like you have anything to lose here. At least when you die it can be on Buzzfeed Unsolved.

Michael knocked very loudly and deliberately on the door, and then rang the doorbell in what could be presumed was a pattern, but maybe it was just random bell spam because he was angry. No one came to open the door, but you heard a lot of scuffling about from behind it.

Mike pulled out his cell phone and started calling. It apparently took too long for the other person to pick up, as he rolled his eyes in impatience.

“Yes, it’s really me. Open the bloody door.”

He aggressively pressed [End Call]. You could tell this man missed having a physical receiver to slam the phone into.

“Did you just have to Two-Factor Authentication this motherfucking door?”

Michael’s deep sigh gave you all the information you needed. Okay, so maybe you are doing an Insane Errand.

The door swung open swiftly, revealing a dark room beyond it. Kinda reminded you of the spring-loaded quickness of the entrance to a possum trap. You actually didn’t want to go in there, you know because of the threatening aura, but Michael boldly walked right in, unbothered. You followed, disciple that you are at this point.

The first thing you noticed was the smell. It was reminiscent of Mike’s place, dust and motor oil and smoke and stale beer. And thus, like Mike’s place, there was a sense of nostalgia to it.

Second, it was pretty dark, but what you did see of the furniture was dated. It was like this place was a time capsule. The living room looked as if it were imported straight from the 70’s. And just like Mike’s place it was covered in various mechanical parts and half-assed machines. Prototypes, as they were called in proper English.

And then you noticed the feral old man holding a whole ass crossbow. At least it wasn’t pointed at you but. Damn. Perhaps Mr. Henry Emily? Considering Mike told you he doesn’t have that large of a social circle. Still. This could be a dealer. You never know.

This heavily armed senior citizen was disheveled, with oil stains on his clothes. The way he stood, ready to flee or pounce at any sudden movement, reminded you of a cat. One of those big fluffy cats that could use a good brushing.

Michael sighed, “I suppose it’s stupid to ask but do you think you could work the restaurant for the weekend? We’re short-staffed and I need all the help I can get.”

Mr. crossbow left a pregnant pause with an icy glare, “… I think we both know why that’s a bad idea, Michael,” he gestured towards you, “Besides, you’ve got an extra hand with Mx. L/n here,”

Okay. So context clues here are really pointing towards Henry. At least you hoped. Although, this wasn’t exactly the cordial man you had been picturing. The kinda man who walks around in a yellow bear suit and talks to kids in a goofy voice. That man was not present at the moment. Even as you stood in his dark and dusty bear cave. It's like that with bears, you guess. You linger too long, or hurt their cubs, or just for the hell of it and suddenly, you were dead. But-- no. Even now, Henry Emily didn't look like the kind of man to kill for the hell of it. Not a polar bear, then.

“A person with a single day of training will be nowhere near as useful as you would,” Michael shot you an apologetic look in an afterthought, “No offense Y/n,”

“None taken!” you weren’t gonna pretend like you were a hot new player in the pizzeria game.

Michael ran an exhausted hand through his hair, “It would just be a lot less stressful if you were there, just briefly. Just through the rushes.”

“Those are the worst times. Think of the foot traffic.” Mr. Crossbow crossed his arms. He looked pretty cross. (ouchie stop throwing stuff at me I’ll stop okay)

Mike took a calming breath with his hands clasped tight in front of him, and yeah, you couldn’t blame him. That was quite literally a ‘yes that’s the whole point’ statement.

“Look, you can work the kitchen the entire time, that way you only have to interact with a few people,” he pleaded.

Henry grumbled, “You know Jeremy never complained when he was short-staffed.”

“Jeremy’s MISSING HIS FRONTAL LOBE,”

Uh. Hopefully that’s unrelated to his position as a Fazbear employee. But you know it’s not. Not even a ‘deep down you knew’ nah the shallowest part of you knows.

You glanced over at Michael again, all undead and stuff. Shit…

“You know what? FINE.” Mike announced as he stalked off towards the kitchen, “where are the damn tapes?” which was perhaps a rhetorical question as he clearly knew they were in the kitchen.

And this left you alone with Henry. Or at least, you thought it was Henry. Probably should ask. You know, like a real person does.

“Henry Emily, I presume?” you held out your hand.

He eyed you suspiciously. Shit. If this ain’t him that’s awkward. At least he shook your hand.

“You would be correct, Y/n L/n,” oh thank God.

“I’m crashing at Mike’s place for a bit,”

“So I’ve heard,” he looked you up and down, like he was taking measurements for your coffin, “… Y/n M/n L/n. twenty-[X]-year-old runaway, far from home. 15-year-old car, not running a tab at any motel. You don’t have a cell phone on you, do you?”

“Um, no?”

“No one knows where you are.” A statement, not a question.

“Uhh—” this was starting to get creepier.

“There was only five, right?” Oh blessed Michael the angel here to rescue you.

“That’s all of them.” Henry replied shortly like he wasn’t just listing out all the reasons they could bury you in the backyard tomorrow without drawing any suspicion whatsoever.

You held out your hands to take some of the tapes Mike was carrying. They didn’t look heavy or anything, but you really needed something to do with your hands. And you needed to feel useful right now. For some unknown reason. He passed a couple to you, sensing this.

“Alright, c’mon Y/n, let’s go,”

You freed up a hand to wave to Henry, “It was nice meeting you, sir,” you lied.

“Likewise,”

“Yeah, bye Henry,” Michael didn’t look back as he shepherded you towards the door.

How much of that did he hear, you wonder. Probably all of it. It wasn’t that big of a house.

“I’m sorry about that,”

Yeah, Mikey heard.

“Um,” you didn’t know how to phrase this politely, “He wasn’t like, threatening me, right?”

Michael made a noncommittal gesture, “Honestly? He could totally have been. But he also just talks like that normally. So who knows,”

“I would like to know,”

He playfully shook his head, “Don’t worry about it. It’s probably fine.”

“Probably isn’t—sigh. Okay,” again, at least you’ll wind up on Buzzfeed Unsolved, “Well, do you think he liked me at all?”

“That I also have no clue about,”

“Then I choose to believe that he thought I was the coolest person in his dark cave of a living room,”

Michael chuckled and rolled his eyes, “Oh, I’m sure that’s true. In those exact words too,”

The pizzeria came in view. Still in one piece and not on fire. So far so good. No immediate disaster. Vanessa did a good job as acting manager. In the all-of-forty-five minutes she was in charge—

Uh. Perhaps you jinxed her, because as soon as you two walked through the door, Vanessa came running into the room like the world’s most nervous cheetah. And that’s saying something, cheetahs are naturally nervous. Her blonde hair was in disarray, little rainbow sprigs sticking out here and there.

“Oh good! You guys are back!”

Her cheerful tone died, “Please help us.”

[starlost-maniac]

It's A Maybe...? Ch 2

Warnings/genre: SMUT, piv, pia, unprotected sex (don't do it), mxf, mxm, there may be more?

Pairing: skz x fem!reader (end game is ChanLix, but Minho, Jisung, Seungmin and Jeongin are involved)

A/N: I was lazy when writing this, so I really only wrote it as a skz6 pairing (I paired Changbin and Hyunjin together for this). Please forgive my horrible writing

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You woke up in Felix's bed alone, something you're used to with his schedules. He left a note for you on the bedside table, saying he's sorry he had to leave, but the entertainment needed him for some schedule. He continues saying he loves you and he'll see you when he gets home.

You smile to yourself and get up to use the bathroom. You come out and get dressed in some of the clothes Felix had bought you. You put on an ankle length skirt with a slit up the side of your leg, and a white blouse. You step out of the room and walk down the hall to the kitchen. You see a bouquet of black roses in a vase on the kitchen table with a card in the front with your name on it. You go over and pick up the card and open it.

"Noona, I know black roses are your favorite, so I hope you like the bouquet. I want to make this day special for you. I'll be picking you up around 10 for a nice breakfast, and we are spending the day together."

You smile softly and look at your phone for the time. It reads 9:30am, so you have a bit of time to finish getting ready. You go back to Felix's room and brush your hair and do your makeup.

10am rolls around and you step outside and see Jeongin standing against a nice car. He looks up at you and smiles.

"You look beautiful, noona." He says as he walks over to you. He leans down and places a soft kiss to your cheek. You smile and thank him as he walks you to the car. He opens your door for you and you get in, making sure your skirt doesn't get stuck in the door. He shuts your door and goes to the driver's side and gets in. He drives you to a beautiful outdoor breakfast buffet.

"I never knew a place like this existed. It looks so beautiful out here." You look around, awestruck. Jeongin smiles and parks the car and gets out, going around quickly to open your door. You get out and smile at him. He grins and takes your hand and leads you into the seating area. A waiter comes over and takes your drink orders and leaves. You and Jeongin go and get food before going back to your table.

"So how did you meet Felix-hyung?" Jeongin asks before putting half a pancake in his mouth.

"We actually met while you guys were on tour in Australia. I had accidentally bumped into him and we spilled our drinks on each other. I offered to pay for his dry cleaning and gave him my number." You smile, recalling the memory. "He took my number and texted me later that night, asking me on a date, and the rest is history. It's really cliché, but it's our story."

Jeongin just smiles fondly. "I think it's really sweet. How long did he take to ask you to be his girlfriend?" He reaches out and gently grabs your hand, holding it in his.

"Well, we've known each other officially for 5 years, and we've been dating for 3. Whenever he went back to Australia, he would always try to meet up with me between time with his family. He didn't want to ask me out officially due to him being an idol. He was scared I'd get hurt or something bad would happen to me." You take a bite of your food, Jeongin watching you, interested in your story.

"He finally worked up the courage to say 'Fuck it. I want you to be mine'. He asked me out under the stars with a full moon by the beach. He was honestly so romantic about it." You chuckle, and take a sip of your drink.

"He really is a romantic one. He likes to cling to us a lot. Not that we don't like it." He smiles. "Hyung has a soft heart, and is just very sweet. He deserves someone who makes him happy, and I'm glad that someone is you." He leans over the table and gently kisses your lips before he sits back, a smile on his face. You could feel your cheeks burning a bit at his words. Jeongin smiles a soft smile at you.

"Thank you, Innie. He makes me really happy to. You all make me feel so welcome too." You softly squeeze his hand. "I really appreciate you all taking such good care of Felix too."

"It's what family does, noona. We care for each other." He smiles wide again. "Now eat your food before it gets cold." He laughs.

After breakfast, he takes you for a walk through the scenery, his arm around your back, hand on your hip, holding you close. He looks down at you and smiles at your enamored look.

"You're so adorable, noona." He leans down and kisses the top of your head. "Take some pictures so you can show hyung later." He gently pats your butt as a way of saying 'go'. You blush lightly before pulling out your phone. Jeongin watches as you take pictures as you walk ahead of him. He pulls out his phone and snaps a few of you, smiling to himself. He follows you as you walk along the path.

"Noona." He calls out to you and you turn. He takes a picture of you. You looked beautiful under the light breaking through the leaves above, a smile on your face. You blush again, not expecting him to take the picture. He goes over to you and shows you. "This is now my favorite picture." He grins before setting it as his lock screen. He grabs your hand and brings you to a bench, he sits and pulls you into his lap gently. You laugh when he tickles you a little before he wraps his arms around your waist and leans you back against him. You bring your phone up and take a selfie of you and Jeongin.

"You look so cute, Innie." You smile at the picture before you send it to him. You set it as his contact picture. You put your phone away and look out at the scenery in front of you. Jeongin gently places his head on your shoulder and looks with you. "It's so beautiful out here." You mumble.

"You're more beautiful, noona." He turns his head and softly kisses your jaw and tightens his grip around your waist a little. Your cheeks turn a light pink. He slowly kisses up behind your ear before kissing down your neck. Your eyes close and your head tilts a little, giving him more access to your neck. Jeongin chuckles quietly and kisses the crook of your neck before leaving a small love bite. You gasp softly but don't stop him.

"You ready to continue our walk, noona?" He rests his chin on your shoulder again, smiling. You nod a little, and get up, his hands falling to your hips. He holds you in place, looking your ass over before he gets up and presses himself right against you, teasing you. He steps around you to your side and holds your hand again. You continue your walk before turning around to walk back to the car.

It was now around 1pm, and Jeongin asks if you want lunch, and maybe go for ice cream after. You accept and you drive back to Seoul.

"Restaurant or street food, noona?" He asks after opening your door.

"Street food sounds good." You smile. "I'd actually love some tteokbokki and fish cakes. That sounds really good right about now." He nods and holds your hand again.

"Perfect choice." He grins wide and you walk down to where the tteokbokki stand is. You both sit and order, sharing the food. You eat carefully so as to not get any food on your white shirt. You both finish and you offer to pay, but Jeongin doesn't let you, saying he's treating you today. You complain a little but he still pays. You playfully push him. He chuckles and smiles at you.

"Lets go get ice cream, noona" he stands and holds his hand out for you. You take it and stand, walking with him to an ice cream stand not too far away. You get chocolate and vanilla, and he gets mint chocolate. You both walk while you eat, enjoying each other's company.

"How about a movie marathon and cuddles, noona? After all this walking, maybe taking a rest would be nice?" He looks down at you.

"Sure." You smile. "Maybe some marvel movies?" You grin and he nods. He watches as you eat your ice cream. You notice him staring, so to tease him as payback, you lick it slowly before licking the top of the ice cream off. You grin up at him.

"You better be careful, noona. I may take that the wrong way." He winks at you. You just chuckle and rub your thumb over his skin. He walks you back to the car as you both finish your treat and he opens your door for you again. You thank him and get in, the door shutting once you're buckled. He gets in and drives you back to their place.

He takes you up to his room and tells you to get comfortable on the bed. You blush lightly, remembering what happened last time you were in here. You climb in bed, leaning against his pillows on your side, your legs tucked underneath you. The slit of your skirt showing off your legs, it stops just mid thigh.

Jeongin gets his tv set up and turns around to join you in bed. He stares at you, looking your legs over before his eyes flick up to your eyes.

"You are just so beautiful.." he whispers before climbing into his bed. He wraps an arm around you and pulls you close. He hands you the remote, and you decide to watch the Deadpool movies. Not even 30 minutes into the movie, his hand is creeping up into your shirt from your waist. He slips his hand up into your shirt and softly rubs your side, his hand occasionally touching the bottom of your bra.

You lay your head on him and he smiles. He slips his hand to your back and undoes your bra. You look up at him and he's just got a grin on his face as he watches the tv.

"You having fun, Innie?" You teasingly poke him when you ask. He just chuckles in response and kisses your forehead. He slides his hand back down to the hem of your shirt and grabs it. He slowly takes it off of you, half expecting you to stop him. You shift so he can take it off you, your bra coming off next. He drops them on the floor by his bedside table.

He looks you over, his cock twitching inside his pants. You blush as he stares. He reaches up and gently runs his thumb over your nipple, pulling a soft gasp from you as his fingers are still cold. He grins and shifts so he can lean down. He softly cups your breast and leaves wet kisses across your skin before pulling your nipple into his mouth. You moan softly and close your eyes. Jeongin slowly licks and sucks on you, groaning softly as he massages your chest.

He lets go of your nipple just to shift to your other, giving it the same treatment. He pulls away with a soft pop before he looks at you, grinning. You open your eyes, your face flushed.

"Are you ok continuing, noona?" He watches your eyes.

"I'm ok, Innie." You smile and gently grab at his shirt and he helps take it off. You run your fingers across his skin and he smiles, watching you. He sits up and shifts so he's kneeling on the bed. He reaches back over and slips his fingers into your skirt, pulling it down off you, taking your panties with it. He groans softly when he sees your wet cunt.

"Oh my gosh.." he slowly swipes two fingers through your folds, picking up your slick, before sticking them in his mouth. He licks and sucks them clean. "Still so delicious." He winks at you and unbuttons his pants, sliding them off. He watches you, looking over your beautiful body.

"Do you want this, noona? Once we do this, there's no going back. But if you regret it afterwards, we'll pretend it never happened." His eyebrows scrunched with worry.

"I do, Jeongin." You say, nodding. "I won't regret it." You smile and sit up, your cheeks lightly flushed, and gently grab his hand. He squeezes your hand softly before he lets go, grabbing his boxers and slides them off, his hard cock springing free. He's a lot larger than you thought, and you stare at it before moving forward. You gently grab it and slowly stroke him, kitten licking his tip. The young man grabs the back of your head, a fistful of your hair, groaning loudly.

You slowly lick his tip before sliding his cock into your mouth. You look up at him as you wrap your lips around him. He had his head thrown back, breathing hard.

"Noona..my god.." he groans as you put as much of his cock in your mouth as you can. You slowly start to bob your head, licking the underside of his cock as you suck. He looks down at you, loving the view. His cock twitches on your mouth.

"Fuck..noona. I need a picture of this..is that ok?" He bucks his hips a little into your mouth and you moan softly. You slide him out of your mouth with a pop.

"Felix takes pictures all the time. He has them for when you guys are on tour or a schedule out of the country. I don't mind." You smile up at him and lick his tip, making his cock twitch again.

"Fuck.." he groans out. He leans over the bed to grab his pants, grabbing his phone out of his pocket, fumbling some. He sits back up and sits on the bed against his headboard, spreading his legs. "I'm ready when you are, noona." You smile at him and crawl up between his legs, your cheeks a light pink. You gently grab his cock and slowly stroke him before you lick his tip, licking up his pre-cum. He groans as he readies his camera.

You slip his tip back into your mouth, slowly swirling your tongue, licking his slit. He groans loudly, taking a few pictures. You slide your mouth down his length, taking as much as you can before slowly sliding him back out. He leans his head back, a loud thump as he hits his headboard.

"Fuck noona..you feel so nice. Your mouth is nice and warm." He reaches over and cups your cheek as you hollow your cheeks around his tip, making him moan loudly. You pull him out with a pop again and lick down the length of his cock before going back up the underside, your tongue flat against him.

"Noona, I need you now..please." he whines out. You never thought you'd hear Jeongin whine. It honestly turns you on. You climb on top of him, straddling his waist, cock underneath you, against your folds. "Ah, wait." He leans over and opens his drawer, pulling out a condom.

"You don't need that, Innie. I'm on the pill. Felix knows too and said it was ok." You rub yourself against his cock, making him groan softly. He quickly drops the condom and sits back up, gripping your hips and grinds against you, both of you moaning. He lets go of one hip and grabs his phone again.

"You're sure you're ok with pictures and stuff, noona?" He asks, looking up at you. You nod and lift yourself up, letting his cock straighten, and softly grab him beneath you. You line him up and slowly start to lower yourself onto him. You close your eyes and groan. He grunts quietly and you hear him snap a few pictures as he fills you, making you moan loudly.

He groans out your name, his grip on your hip getting a little tighter. You sit still, letting yourself adjust to him. He's about the same girth as Felix, but longer. Once you're ready, you start moving your hips against his, pulling out a low groan out of him. His hand slides up your skin from your hips to cup your breast softly, giving it a gentle squeeze. You moan softly.

"Innie.." You close your eyes as you lean back a bit, putting your hands on the bed to hold yourself up. Jeongin's eyes trail down to where you're connected and he moans out. He bends his knees behind you and gently thrusts up into you. You gasp and moan out. You start to slowly ride him, still leaning back. He watches as his cock disappears inside you.

"Innie, my god.." your head falls back asleep you moan out.

"Yes, noona? Is something wrong?" He looks up at you and watches as your head goes back. He thrusts up into you again, pressing against the spongy spot inside you.

"No, baby bread..nothing is wrong." You bring your head back up, you sit up straight and place your hands on his pecs. "You feel really nice." You twirl your hips on his again, moaning softly.

"Fuck, noona." He moans out loud. "You feel amazing.." he drops his phone on the bed and holds both your hips and grinds into you. You both moan out and you start bouncing on his cock again, grinding down on him a few times. He swears again and wraps his arms around you and holds you, rolling you both over so he's on top of you. He grabs your legs and wraps them around his waist.

"I'll be gentle, noona. I don't want to hurt you." He starts thrusting into you at a nice pace. He grinds deep into you and you feel him against your cervix. You moan out his name and wrap your arms around his neck. He leans down and softly kisses you, slipping in and out of you easily. You moan into his mouth and hold him close. He breaks the kiss to kiss along your jaw, down your neck and to your breast.

Jeongin slowly licks your nipple, dragging his tongue along the hardening nub. You grip his back and moan. You quietly beg him for more. He nods and grips your other breast and nips softly at your nipple. He picks up his pace as little, thrusting a little harder, you moan out and arch your back. Your nails run across his back, leaving light red marks. He groans against your breast.

"Innie, please.." you moan out. "I want you to be rough, please." You beg. He bites your breast, leaving a nice large mark on your skin. He thrusts harder into you, picking up his pace again. He leaves a few more marks before putting your nipple in his mouth. He licks and sucks hard on it. You moan out his name and scratch his back again, leaving darker red marks across his skin. He moans against you, grinding into you, his pelvis rubbing against your clit. You arch your back, moaning his name loudly.

"God, noona, fuck!" He says against your breast. He sits up and grabs your hips, holding your ass up as he thrusts faster. Your hands slip from his back as he sits up, you reach above you and grip his pillows. He grabs one of your legs and moves it infront of him, foot on his shoulder. He thrusts hard and fast into you, moaning out your name.

His phone suddenly rings by your head, the caller ID showing it was Felix. Normally he would ignore a call while he was being intimate, but since he was fucking his hyung's girlfriend, he figured he'd answer this time. He swipes to answer and puts Felix on speaker.

"Hi hyung." He grins at the phone.

"Hi baby bread. Are you with sunflower?"

"I am. She's right here. Say hi noona, it's Felix-hyung." He thrusts hard into you.

"Hi, sun-sunshine." You moan out when Jeongin thrusts.

"Mm, I see our makane and my baby are busy." Felix chuckles into the phone. "Can I hear some of those pretty moans, baby?" His voice deep over the speaker.

"Come on, noona. Let hyung hear your pretty moans." He holds your leg against him and fucks you hard and fast, reaching down to rub your clit. You gasp and moan loudly, moaning Jeongin's name loudly.

"Fuck sunflower..you sound so gorgeous. I'm going to need you tonight…baby bread, record something for me. I need to see her squirming under you, please." Felix asks, his voice husky.

"Of course hyung. I'll send it to you after." He grins wide. Felix thanks him before hanging up. The younger boy grabs his phone again and opens his camera and starts recording. He shows your face, his thumb on your clit and his cock fucking deep into you. He holds the phone in the hand by your leg on his shoulder and fucks you hard and deep, rubbing your clit fast. You could hear his bed squeaking as he thrusts, the knot in your stomach tightening.

"Cum for me, noona. Let's show Felix-hyung how good I make you feel." He growls out. He stands the phone on its side on his side table, still recording you and he grabs your other leg, putting it on his other shoulder. He leans down slowly, folding you in half as he fucks harder and deeper into you. As soon as he does, the knot snaps and you clench hard around Jeongin, making his hips stutter a bit. You moan his name and grip his pillows tighter as you scream his name. Your legs shake as you cum. He fucks you faster through your high, still rubbing your clit, starting to overstimulate you.

"Good girl, noona." He moans out, grinding into you again. He shoves his cock deep into you and cums a few moments later. He unfolds you, carefully setting your legs down as he keeps his cock inside you as you both come down from your highs. He grabs his phone again and shows where you're connected, cum leaking out around Jeongin. He stops the recording and sends it to Felix, a wide grin on his face. He sets his phone down and leans down to your face, cupping one cheek and kissing you softly. You moan softly into the kiss and place one hand on his, the other sliding up into his hair.

"How's a bath sound, noona? I'm sure your legs are a little sore." He breaks the kiss and chuckles.

"A bath sounds nice, baby bread." You smile and peck his lips. He smiles and teasingly thrusts into you a few more times before he picks you up making you moan out, keeping his cock inside you as you wrap your legs around him again. He walks into his bathroom and carefully sets you on his sink. He leans you back and puts one hand on the mirror behind you, the other gripping the edge of the sink as he fucks you slowly, his cock half hard. You wrap your arms around him and moan softly, your cunt clenching around him again.

"God. You make me so fucking hard, noona." He moves his hand from the sink to your lower back and holds you there. He watches as his cock easily disappears into you, your mixed releases covering his cock. He groans and twitches inside you, his cock getting harder the more he watches. "Fuck…" he groans out quietly, picking up his pace, fucking you on his bathroom sink. He grips the edge of his mirror and thrusts hard up into you, making you arch your back and moan his name again.

"Are you able to cum for me again, noona?" He groans when you let out a sound of confirmation. He grinds into you, rubbing his pelvis on your clit again. Your knot tightens quickly from the overstimulation. He moves his hand from your back to your clit and rubs you in fast, short circles. You grip him and cum hard, scratching his back again, which makes him arch and moan loudly. His hips falter again when you clench around him.

He leans down and starts leaving love bites of different sizes along your neck, chest and breasts as he pumps into you. He continues to rub your clit, making your cunt clench around him hard before you start squirming under him.

"I'm almost there, noona. Please just bear with me.." he breaths out against your neck. He keeps fucking into you hard, deep and fast for a few more minutes before he buries himself deep into your wet cunt and cums hard. You clench around him, your cunt pulling him back in every time he pulls out, lightly pumping back into you. He starts leaving wet, open mouth kisses along your neck. When he breathes against them, it makes you shiver.

"Noona is such a good, pretty girl." He says breathlessly pulling away from your neck. He leans down and softly kisses you. You kiss him back before he slips out of you slowly. His cum slowly leaking out of you. He takes two of his long fingers and carefully pushes it back into you, fingering you gently. You moan softly, head tilting back. He watches as his fingers disappear inside you.

"You swallow my fingers so nicely too, noona." He says before pulling his fingers out and sticks them in his mouth, tasting your juices mixed with his. He gently rubs your thigh before he turns around and gets a bath going. "Do you want me to join, noona, or do you want the bath to yourself, cause I don't mind showering in the cubicle while you're in the bath." He looks over at you.

"I don't mind either, baby bread." You smile softly, the hickeys he left getting more noticeable. Your breathing slowly returns to normal.

"Mmm…I think it's best if I leave you to the bath. I don't think I'll be able to keep my hands off you." He laughs and helps you down off the sink and into the bathtub. Once you're settled, he gets into the shower cubicle. You relax into the tub and watch him start the shower, stepping under the water once it's warm. You watch as the water runs down his toned body, unashamedly looking his cock over. He notices you staring, but doesn't say anything.

Jeongin steps back out of the water and washes his hair quickly and rinses before grabbing his body wash. He slowly washes himself head to toe, washing his cock last. He gently grabs his cock and starts washing it, pumping himself slowly. You watch him, mouth open slightly. He smirks a little and places his free hand on the wall as he pumps, his cock getting hard again. His head drops slightly and he moans out 'noona'. You blush a little bit as you watch him.

His grip gets a little tighter around his member as he fists himself faster. He lets out a few expletives before he cums hard against the shower wall. He groans a little and looks at you. He grins and winks at you before stepping under the water again. You look away, cheeks pink and start washing yourself. Jeongin turns off the water and steps out, grabbing himself a towel and wraps it around his waist. He walks over to you and kneels beside the bath. He gently starts to wash your back for you. You close your eyes and relax.

"Tired, noona?" He chuckles and rinses your back off. You nod in response. "Think you'll be up for it when Felix-hyung gets home? He sounded pretty turned on." Jeongin laughs. You laugh softly.

"If I take a nap, I'm sure I'll be fine." You open your eyes and look at him. He smiles and kisses your temple softly.

"Let's finish getting you cleaned up and we can go take a nap." He smiles wide. He helps you get washed up before draining the tub. He helps you get up and dries you off, leaving gentle, chaste kisses across your skin. He wraps you up in a towel and dries your hair with his blow dryer. You both go back to his room and he quickly changes his bedding. He tosses his towel in his hamper and climbs into bed, patting the spot next to him. You toss yours in the hamper as well and climb in next to him.

He gently puts your leg over his hip, putting his between your legs, thigh right against your core. You cuddle up to him as he covers you both up, and you quickly fall asleep.

——

You wake up to someone playing with your hair. You open your eyes and turn a bit to see Felix sitting on the edge of the bed, smiling at you. Jeongin pulls you back to him in his sleep, face in your breasts.

"Hi, sunflower." Felix whispers to you. You smile sleepily.

"Hi, sunshine. I missed you." You whisper back as you hold Jeongin's sleeping form.

"Did you have fun with Innie today?" He softly pets your hair and you nod, letting out a soft 'mhmm'. He smiles. "Sleep for a bit longer and I'll get you two for dinner." He gently pats your bare ass as the blanket had come off you while you slept. He leans down and kisses your cheek, smiling lovingly at you both. He leaves and shuts the door behind him. You cuddle again with Jeongin, adjusting your leg on him before falling asleep again.

You're woken up again by Jeongin leaving soft kisses along your throat. You let out an 'mm', letting him know you're awake. He chuckles.

"Hi noona." He smiles against your skin and he bites your throat, gently running his teeth against your skin. You let out a gasp and a quiet moan.

"Hi baby bread." Your hand snakes into his hair and you grab a fistfull. "How was your nap?"

"It was nice. I dreamt about you and I woke up hard." He laughs.

"I can feel that." You laugh as well. "Do you know if dinner is ready? Felix said he would come and get us."

"I'm not sure. I can go and check? That way you can relax a bit or get dressed?" He bites your throat softly again, making you shudder. You nod a little and let go of his hair when he pulls back. He places a quick kiss to your lips before he gets up. He stretches as he walks over to his dresser and pulls out a pair of shorts. He quickly puts them on and goes to the door just as someone knocks. Jeongin opens the door and Felix peeks in, smiling up at his younger members.

"I was just coming to wake you two. Dinner is ready." Jeongin steps out of the way to let Felix in, the older thanking him as he walks past. The blonde goes over to you and smiles, leaning down to kiss you deeply. "I can't wait for after dinner. I get to have the tastiest dessert afterwards if you're still up for it." He winks at you and helps you up. You giggle and say you are. Jeongin offers a pair of his sweatpants and one of his shirts, since you don't have any clean clothes in his room. You thank him and put them on. You all go to the kitchen and the boys greet you.

"How many times did you bite her, I.N?" Seungmin asks, seeing how many hickeys there are across your neck and collarbone. Jeongin and Felix just laugh and kisses the top of your head.

"You guys think this is bad? I've left more than he has. She loves being bit." Felix says, wrapping his arms around you, softly kissing your neck.

"I really do." You blush lightly, not used to sharing this with so many people. Felix notices Chan trying not to look at you, his ears red. Felix lets out a 'hmm' before shifting his focus back to you.

"Go sit, baby. Food’s ready." He kisses your neck again and releases you, gently patting your ass again.

——

The boys try to shoo you out of the kitchen again but you complain saying you want to at least help clean, before Felix kidnaps you again, making the boys laugh and relent. You grin and start packing up the leftovers and clear the table. The boys thank you and Jisung and Seungmin kiss your cheeks, making them turn pink. Minho winks and purses his lips at you, wanting you to come to him for a kiss.

You roll your eyes teasingly and smile as you walk over to the older boy. You step up on your toes and peck his lips before stepping back. He kept his lips pursed at you and you laugh.

"You're so cute." You step back to him and he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you close before kissing you deeply. He hoists you up onto the counter and moves his hands to your face, gently cupping your cheeks. He kisses you hot and fast, making you gasp. He takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth and he groans at your taste. He pulls back after a few minutes for air, a string of spit from your lips hangs in the air. He looks into your eyes, smirking when he sees they're glassy. He wipes the spit from your kiss bruised lips softly and helps you down from the counter.

"Go to Yongbok. He wants you, bad, kitten." Indicating towards your boyfriend. You nod before walking past Jisung and Seungmin, seeing that they both are sporting tents in their pants before going to Felix.

"Ohh, I am going to devour you tonight baby. The video from Innie, and now what Minho-hyung was doing..you're in for it, my love." He says deeply, his baritone voice turning you on again. He lifts you up and carries you to his room where you end your night with a few hours of loving attention from your boyfriend.

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@emmxxsworld @mbioooo0000

[dearweirdme]

AYS anon here again 😅 Just wanted to clarify something in case people took it the wrong way. When I talked about clips being out of context, I was talking about jikook. This is gonna sound so embarrassing, but I was someone who was super insecure about jikook, which is why I avoided AYS for the longest. Everything I saw online about it looked like it was very lovey dovey honeymoon vibes LOL or at least that's how accounts on X made it seem. After watching episodes 1-5, it showed me how out of context these clips were because JM and JK were giving very much brother energy, and that really made me love their bond tbh. I love their banter so much, but theres no romantic chemistry imo. I still need to finish Sapporo, and I will admit the first few minutes were giving a different vibe, and that's why I paused to not change my initial opinion. But even then, it doesn't erase the first 5 episodes and how they acted towards each other. I know a lot of jikookers harp on Japan, so that's something I am curious about exploring.

I've been an army for a while, but I am a ch 2 taekooker, so it kinda feels like I'm watching everything back with a different lens. I hope this doesn't sound bad or is viewed as controversial.. but I have noticed how different official content portrays taekook vs behind the scenes or unofficial content. And that makes me realize why so many people believe taekook aren't so close or are awkward with each other (I was one of them before). Do you think this is purposeful? Makes me wonder if it's the company or could be taekook wanting to be more lowkey?

But I am gonna take all of yalls suggestions and watch all the official content and gather my opinion. So far, it is strengthening my belief on taekook and making me less insecure with other pairings. I will also make my own account so I can stop bombarding your ask box 😅 sorry Rain lol

Hi anon!

This seems like a great moment to talk about why Jkk aren’t romantically involved 😅😂🫠…

But yeah, if you go on fandom chatter and shorter clips and jkk edits… you’re not gonna get the right feeling. When AYS dropped it was actually kinda funny to see Jkkrs reactions to it in realtime. A week before it dropped they were pretty much predicting a honeymoon… only for them to get hit with the car conversation about Jm and Jk not hanging out very early in episode one. Jeju made them actually mad (Tae ofcourse… but they also hated the way Jk acted towards Jm). They have now brainwashed themselves and put all their faith into n Sapporro.. and sure, it’s more cutesy? But Jk was on his phone soooo much and I personally felt the episodes were kind of boring even during the first watch. Let me know what you think!

I get why people ship them. They have fun energy together for sure. I don’t get why people think they are together for real. Enlisting together, being put in the spotlight so often by the company, the AYS talk… but also.. they are clearly just friends. If you watch a lot of actual footage you will see that they don’t have the pull we see between Tae and Jk at all. Jm pulls towards Hobi, Yoongi, and Namjoon more than he does to Jk. I’d even say Vmin as a ship has much more actual tension.

Tae and Jk in private are different from official content. Take 2023 for instance, or them at Harry Styles’s show if you want a smaller example. They have a natural pull. I do think they’re not on the spotlight together on purpose. It has changed and I feel more recent years shows them more close than before, but there’s still a boundary on what we see. I’m personally pretty curious to see what the BB of Hobi’s show will look like 🙄. But, I also think Tae and Jk themselves take measures to not be too suspicious. I don’t think it’s their intention to come out just yet. Privacy is sooo important in any case, and I think they’re very protective of that.

[kiwi-luminaryofthestars]

03/15/2025 Progress Update:

TLDR: Another 1K written, 18K now for ch 5. Likely draft finished by tomorrow.

See, this is why I say don’t hold me to shit because I’ll be like “less than 1K words till we’re finished!” and then 1K more words happen and it’s not done. Don’t ask me what I’m doing, cuz the answer is “WRITING” 🤣🤣

Probably could’ve written more today but I got a little distracted by all sorts of bullshit and then things that weren’t bullshit. So just uhhh things. Easily distracted, that’s me.

(Void journal incoming) Absolutely monstrously stressful day and tomorrow will not be much better, unfortunately. Moving makes me want to vomit. And I hate to complain because ultimately it’s a good thing that I’m moving (more space, as mentioned before, which I’m excited for) but the process is just ugh. Perhaps I’m lazy, but I would probably sit on my futon for 15 hours straight every day writing if I was given the chance to, and when my weekend is so busy that I can barely get more than a weekday’s worth of writing done, it frustrates me.

Still, we’re getting close to the home stretch of drafting ch 5, which I’m excited for. This chapter has given me a lot of drafting trouble but not nearly as much as ch 4, so I’m gonna count this as a win. I unfortunately feel a lot of this chapter is setup again, but I’m gonna be fair to myself and say what happens in this chapter absolutely still drives the plot forward, just perhaps not in ways that are so easily seen at first glance. I don’t write scenes unless they are crucial, and so you can be assured even seemingly unimportant details are there because they’re going to pop up again at some point.

I feel a little defensive saying that, and sorry if it comes across that way. Perhaps it is my pride in crafting this story as meticulously as I have that prompts me that way. Foreshadowing can get lost when you don’t know exactly what to look for, and I may write something I think is interesting because it ties in with events that happens later, while a reader may be confused or bored it’s included at all because they don’t have that knowledge going into it. All just to say I’m attempting to balance present intrigue with foreshadowing and it’s difficult. Hoping having a beta will kinda help me see from the other side.

Fun tidbit I guess is that my Google doc for this thing is 324 pages, ch 5 ending at about 225. SO I have a whole 100 pages of other chapters written lmao. I think we’ll probably be at 1,000 pages by the end of this thing, which would be cool. I write at 12 pt 1.5 paragraph spacing at Times New Roman, which is probably a bit more spacier than an actual book, but I’m still proud to have written so goddamn much. My google doc fucking screams everytime I try to go to another chapter section tho lol maybe I should split it up at some point.

Hope you all have a lovely night!! Got so much shit going on tomorrow again, but I’m gonna try to get this draft done. With the way it’s going, I’m almost thinking another 1-2K words left… but we’ll see. I just UGH love writing Shuichi’s inner perspectives; I keep yapping and yapping on, that’s me.

[wawamouse]

Was going to do a WIP Wednesday because I haven't in a while, but all my wips are kind of lame rn or I already shared a lot of them LOL.

So I'm just going to Harp on a finished fic instead because now that Silver Moon's Sparkling is done, I can tell you guys that the original plot of it was 4 chapters where Miguel and Chico simply reconnect via text after the general events of ch.1&2, and then Chico's like "hey do u wanna bang? 🤔" and Miguel's like "😐…ok what the hell" and then they 69, the end.

Other rambling tidbits no one asked for:

Original plot obviously had no issues with Mama!Carmen, no dates, and no Sofia past ch1, really

Sofia's name was originally Joanna (Juanita😝), before it occurred to me that it was too close to Cathy Jo, which I thought was weird so I changed it lol

In the original plot, we don't really learn much about Chico beyond what he tells Miguel via text and they're more like strangers to lovers tbh

Chico didn't have any planned history with guys in the original plot, or at least, there wasn't going to be a definitive reveal of anything; the plan was just to have him be curious and bold enough to want to/ask Miguel to bang lol

I had some version of the first round of sex from ch.9 written out since the outline. Part of it, I also peeled off to add to Chico's appearance in ch.6, when he comes to Miguel's place for the bj :P (the whole fwb situation was also something I added as things started evolving)

My favorite 'date' from the fic was in ch.5 where Miguel goes to Chico's house and just starts Snooping, lol. I thought that was hilarious of him. And also watching Chico cook for him 😌 I actually rarely write cooking scenes or people eating nice meals or whatever, so that was a change of pace for me and an interesting challenge that I feel like turned out decently

My least favorite scene is right after, with the letters, but maybe that's because I'm also personally allergic to vulnerable scene so I'm like Eugh! Cringe and random! (adds it to the fic anyway) Writing it did remind me of writing In the Matter of Carmen Guerra, #96G522 tho, which is a fic I like so idk 😂 It's salvageable

Deleted scenes in ch.9 (AKA scenes I planned to write but didn't so the chapter wouldn't be crazy long again): Miguel and Carmen going to a library thing and then making out sloppystyle on the sidewalk on the walk home; cuddling on the couch scene with some lighthearted sappy conversation and reminiscing

ch.9 was originally going to end with a kind of fade to black before the second round of sex but I love torturing myself ig so I extended the fic, and then strongly debated the epilogue before figuring "well, the fic is titled after a romcom song so I might as well lean into the indulgence…."

So yeah, the song playing in the skating rink after Miguel proposes (referenced) is "Kiss me"…. very 90s… And honestly I picked the title of the fic as "Silver Moon's Sparkling" because haha. Silver Moon. Geddit? They're old. (Yeah, I kept referring to his as old man yaoi when i wrote it even though their ages in this fic are only 53/56. I'm a fake old man yaoi contributor. This is late middle age man yaoi at best….)(Literally just a couple years off from Third Day of Spring ages but shh)

[ssinnerplazahotel]

╭──────────.★..─╮

*Chapter Twelve*

╰─..★.──────────╯

WC: 6k

Warning: 18+, age gap, smut, fluff, toxic elvis, manipulation, drug use, it’s the 50s/60s, painful-difficult-devastating-life-changing-extraordinary love

Pairing: elvis x black reader

Disclaimer: full of inaccuracies, inaccurate timeline, inaccurate depictions of Graceland, historically inaccurate themes and items

Masterlist: Prologue, Ch. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11

You didn’t know what was said in the brief meeting that Elvis had with the Colonel the following morning, but a photo op was ordered for an announcement that would be in the papers.

“A photo op?”

“They want a good shot of us for the paper. A more formal introduction for the public.”

You frowned as you were pressured to choose your look for the photo.

“I don’t know. I can’t decide.”

“I like this one.” Elvis pointed out a lime dress with a pink pattern.

“It’s too loud, isn’t it?” You tilted your head as you examined the material.

“Suits the mood.”

“If you say so.”

He was forced out of the room so you could dress and go through hair and makeup. Soon you were preparing to head out for the photo.

“I knew you’d look perfect,” He said when he saw you. “The camera’s gonna love you, baby.”

“Are you sure it’s not too much?” You ask. “The makeup and the dress—it’s not like me.”

“It’s perfect,” He promised. “You’re my girl now so you hafta keep up your appearance.”

“Did I do a bad job at keeping it up before?”

“Oh, you did just fine.” He kissed your cheek and a camera flashed, signaling the arrival of the photographer.

“Let’s get the two of you outside,” He said instructed promptly. “Colonel wants this sent to the press by the end of the night.”

“Why?” You wondered.

“Come on, baby, let’s go outside,” Elvis said, putting his arm around you. “It’s just something he does. He knows how to…appeal to certain audiences.”

You stepped out onto the porch, stopping just before the first step and facing him. “And what audience are we appealing to now?”

“Those good, old, vanilla sons of bitches you always hear about,” He said, making you laugh. “They’re upset now, but they just need to see us kissin and huggin and lovin on each other. As a way to, y’know, convince them that I actually love you and that I’m not taking you in as a concubine.”

“Is that what people are saying?”

“People are saying a lot.”

The photographer gave the two of you instructions on what to do and you went around taking pictures for at least thirty minutes. You never thought taking a photo could take so long.

“Let’s have one with you sitting down and her standing next to you,” He said, gesturing for you to move onto the steps. “Put your hand on his shoulder.”

“How much longer, boss?” Elvis asked—you could tell he was getting restless.

“Just a few more.” He snapped the photos in a rush and finished up, true to his word. “Alrighty, I’m gonna get these to print and they should start circulating in no time.”

The photos were circulating that night. You had only seen a few pages of different newspapers, they all said relatively positive things.

“Where are the bad ones?” You asked.

“The what?” Elvis responded, appearing from the bathroom.

“The bad ones.”

“What’re you talkin about?

You crossed your arms. “Where are all the articles from the people that were standing out there crying their eyes out, ready to take my head off?”

His eyebrows drew together. “I don’t know, birdie. I brought those so you could see how the pictures came out, not so you could catch up on the latest hit pieces.”

“You can’t shield me from them, E, I have to see them,” You said. “It’ll just make things harder if I don’t.”

“Trust me, you’ll be better off not getting too caught up in the press,” He said, joining you in bed. “They chew you up and spit you out. I don’t want that to happen to you. Not my baby birdie.”

You pouted but moved on. “This one’s saying that the coat I was wearing when we got off the plane is sold out now. Do you think that’s true?”

“Enough of this,” He said, taking the pages from you and sweeping them to the ground.

“No~”

“You’ve had enough.”

The phone rang, cutting your rebuttal short. Elvis stood and snatched off the hook. You went to gather the papers from the ground—stacking them neatly on the bed.

“Who was it?” You asked when he hung up.

“I have a surprise for you downstairs,” He said.

“For me?” You chuckled. “What is it?”

“If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise, would it? Come on. Liz is here to get you ready.”

“That poor woman,” You said with a frown. “I can do my own hair and makeup.”

“I know, but she knows how I like it.” He took your hands in his and brought them up to his lips.

You hummed thoughtfully and wrapped your arms around his neck. “Do you like the way she does it, baby?”

His eyes darkened and his lips turned up in a smirk. “Don’t you?”

“If you like it, I love it.” You smiled, standing up on your toes to kiss him. “Get out of here so I can change.”

“It’s not gonna be good you keep winding me up and not letting me sing,” He said, pulling your body against his. “I might not be able to keep showing so much restraint.”

“I’m not asking you to,” You said. “I’m yours, aren’t I?”

“You are.”

“Then do what you want with me.”

There’s a knock on the door, signaling Elizabeth Monroe’s arrival. Elvis had her hired as your full time stylist and makeup artist. Apparently he had instructed her on exactly how you should be styled.

“Nothing but the best for my girl,” He had said when he introduced the two of you.

She didn’t say much as she dressed you, she said even less as she applied your makeup. You figured she was just concentrating on her work.

“Do you like it?” She asked after all was said and done.

“Yes, thank you.” You examined your face in the mirror. “Do you think he’ll like it?”

She met your eyes in your reflection and nodded. “He will.”

You hesitated on your way downstairs—you still felt uneasy being around everyone. You were sure they talked about you when you weren’t around.

Elvis appeared at the bottom of the stairs. “There you are.”

Your anxiety was relieved at the sight of him. “What do you think?”

“You’re perfect,” He said just as someone came to the door. “It’s for you.”

He took you by the hand and went to open the door. Your eyes widened when you saw Andrea standing there.

“Oh my god,” You said with a stunned smile, looking up at Elvis. “Why?”

“I thought it’d cheer you up after the week you’ve had,” He said before addressing her. “Andrea.”

“Elvis,” She said shortly as you hugged her.

“It’s so good to see you again,” You said. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Well, I was summoned.” She gestured to Elvis with a sarcastic smile.

“Thank you so much for leaving your post at the gates of heaven, angel,” He responded before stepping forward to kiss your cheek. “I’ll let you ladies do whatever it is that you do.”

“Thank you, E.”

“You’re welcome, birdie.”

You watched him leave before facing Andrea. She looked around the foyer with her arms crossed—her expression bleak.

“It’s quieter upstairs, come on.”

She nodded and followed you. You led her to the office upstairs and plopped down on the black, leather couch.

“Sit.” You laughed, patting the spot in front of you. “Tell me how you’ve been.”

“I’ve been fine.” She took a seat facing you. “I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw you in the paper.”

“Yeah, everything happened really fast,” You said. “What do you think?”

“About what?”

“Elvis and me.”

She looked off, quirking an eyebrow. “It’s…a lot.”

You chuckled. “Good or bad?”

“Shouldn’t you tell me?”

“Hmmm…good.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, it’s good.”

You smiled, she offered a small one in return.

“What happened to Joel from Hawaii?”

“Oh, well…we separated.”

She nodded. “Because you decided to be with Elvis?”

“Well, I mean~ It’s more complicated than that,” You said. “Elvis and I, we just…have history.”

“How far back?” Andrea asked.

“Since before I met you, I guess.” You thought for a moment. “Yeah, a while before I met you.”

“So, this mystery man was…”

“Elvis.”

She continued to look stunned but she laughed now. “For the love of god, you said he was married.”

You laughed along with her. “I had to throw you off somehow.”

“You are so full of surprises,” She said. “First you disappear without a trace, then you show up engaged, and now you’ve left that guy for his famous friend.”

“Oh, god, don’t say it like that,” You complained, laughing despite yourself. “I told you it was complicated. I tried with Joel, but…it wouldn’t have worked out.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m in love with Elvis.”

“Well…you’re causing riots in the streets.” You were grateful for the change in subject. “People are either tearing newspapers from store walls or breaking down the door to find your latest outfit. It’s pure chaos.”

“Really?”

“It’s like you’re famous.”

You smiled, shaking your head in denial. “I don’t know about that.”

Andrea sighed thoughtfully, falling silent for a moment. “You’re so…different now.”

“Good or bad?”

“…I can tell you’re in love.”

*

“A lot of people are convinced you don’t have a voice.”

“Are they really?”

You smiled down at Elvis—the telephone to your ear as you sat in his lap. At first you refused the interview. You didn’t want your voice broadcasted on the radio and you didn’t want your words plastered all over the paper. But Elvis talked you into it, promising to be by your side the entire time.

“You two are so different. You come from different backgrounds, he’s older~”

“Mhm~”

“You’re polar opposites really.”

“Yes.”

“What we all want to know is what you get up to. What do you talk about?”

“Oh, we get up to all kinds of stuff.”

Elvis quirked an eyebrow, gesturing to the slip of paper on the desk as a reminder for you to stick to the script.

“We do all the usual things.” You tilted your head to read the words from the page. “We have…very interesting conversations.”

“What’s interesting to a nineteen year old girl?”

“You should ask Elvis.”

He patted your thigh admonishingly—smirking despite himself.

“Anyway, I’m almost twenty.”

“What do you talk about, almost twenty?”

“You’re so funny.”

“Humor us here in radioland.”

“We talk about all kinds of things. He’s an intellectual.”

“He teaches you a lot, huh?”

“Sure.”

“There are some fans out there that refuse to believe the two of you are the real thing. What do you say to them?”

“I understand, honestly. I can’t believe it myself sometimes.”

You rolled your eyes at that one—cutting an eye at Elvis.

“There’s talk of marriage, any truth to that?”

“Not that we know of.”

“Folks are saying there’s gonna be some serious consequences if you aren’t married.”

“…Is that what they’re saying in radioland?”

“Does that scare you?”

“…Stick to the script, Quincy.”

The interview came to an end and you looked at Elvis with a serious expression. He laughed. “It wasn’t that bad, was it?”

“‘Serious consequences?’”

“Oh, birdie~”

“Don’t tell me not to worry.”

He tilted his head, smiling at you silently. You stood with a sigh and grabbed your cigarettes off the corner of the desk.

“Tell me what they’re saying,” You demanded. “Andrea tells me what they say in the paper, E, you can’t keep it from me.”

“They want us to get married.”

“So I’ve heard. Why?”

“Hell if I know. These people want something different every goddamn day. It’s just another thing.”

You struck a match and lit the end of your cigarette. “What are they saying is gonna happen if we don’t?”

He shrugged. “They’ll ban me across the country on the basis of morality, send us to jail, hang us from the ceiling, and whatever else they can come up with. Shit, maybe they’ll send us to the fucking moon. I have no idea what they say in those meetings.”

You took a drag from your cigarette. “How can they force people to do things like this?”

“I don’t know, but we’re sorting everything out as best we can.”

“You keep saying that.”

“And you keep wasting your time worrying.” He rounded the desk, leaning against the front of it as he spoke. “What’s the worst that can happen? We end up having to get married?”

“Yes, Elvis, that’s the worst that can happen,” You said. “That means they have all the control.”

“No one has all the control. It’s a bunch of people sitting around talking, that’s all it is.”

“The last time a bunch of people sat around talking about you you got shipped to Germany.”

“Goddamnit, birdie, will you let it go?”

You turned to leave the office, too annoyed to say anything else, but he caught your arm and made you face him.

“I’m not gonna let anything hurt you or take you away,” He said. “Not when I just got you back.”

You met his eyes without speaking—your jaw set.

“I’ll handle it. Alright?”

“…Alright.”

You weren’t sure what decisions were made or who had put everything together, but, soon, you were getting married.

You had woken up on the eve of your wedding day—unbeknownst to you—to Liz laying out different designs for hair, makeup, and your dress. When you asked where Elvis had gone you were told that he and the rest of the guys were already in Nevada.

“We have these.” Liz showed you the dresses in a hurry. “We can get the dress of your choice fitted and altered overnight. That way it’ll be ready tomorrow morning.”

“What is happening?” You asked, bewildered. “I need to talk to Elvis, right now.”

“There’s no time. You’re leaving as soon as Andrea gets here.”

As if on cue, Andrea came bustling through the door—luggage in tow. “There’s the bride-to-be~”

“Andrea, do you have any idea what’s going on?” You asked. “Who’s orchestrating all of this?”

“I don’t know.” She looked concerned now. “Jerry called me last night and told me that Parker wanted everybody here by eight this morning.”

“Liz, who told you to be here?”

“Parker.”

You looked around the room and stopped one of the people packing your bags. You asked them the same question, although you were already sure of the answer.

“The Colonel.”

You groaned, this couldn’t be happening. The entire place was in chaos around you.

“I’m sorry, but you have to choose now,” Liz said apologetically.

Andrea tried to aid you in making a decision. You could’ve cried at the thought of choosing your wedding dress fifteen minutes after waking up on what you had assumed would be a normal day. You had minutes to contemplate your decision as Liz dressed you in the clothes you would be traveling in.

“I like the V-cut. Don’t you?” Andrea asked

“I don’t know,” You said. “What do you think he’d want, Liz?”

“For christ sake, it’s your wedding too,” Andrea said. “Which one do you want?”

“Leaving for the airport!”

Liz encouraged you to go with your first choice. “It’s the best option.”

You didn’t have time to think as you were ushered from the house. You arrived in Nevada that night after a miserable flight. At the hotel, you were rushed from the car and into the back entrance of the building.

“Where are we going?” You must’ve asked a thousand times already. You were relieved when you saw Jerry meeting you at the end of the hall. “Where is he?”

“He’s been on the phone for hours trying to sort things out with Parker,” Jerry said as he led the way. “He’s tryna to see if he can’t get this whole thing done away with.”

Jerry led you to a conference room that had a long chestnut table at the center with padded office chairs. You immediately spotted Elvis pacing on the telephone. He handed the phone off when he saw you.

“Come over here, birdie.” He guided you to the corner of the room—ducking his head as he spoke. “Are you okay? Is Andrea with you?”

“What is happening?” You asked, matching his low voice. You didn’t recognize anyone in the room apart from Elvis and Jerry. The men sitting around the end of the table all wore suits and had expressions that appeared permanently stern. They didn’t take their eyes off of you the entire time.

“Are we ready to sign the papers?”

“Nah, we’re still figuring some things.”

You shook your head in disbelief. “Is this real?”

Elvis rubbed his face. “I’ve been talking to that son of a bitch for hours. He sent me here to talk to these people but they’re not budging. He keeps saying his hands are tied and there’s nothing he can do.”

“Do you believe that?”

“I have no reason not to. He’s been trying to get the public on our side.”

“This isn’t about the public.”

“It’s not?”

“Is Parker trying as hard as he could be?”

Elvis shrugged, looking off for a moment. “I don’t think they’re gonna let us leave here without signing those papers.”

He was right—they didn’t. Elvis Presley was given until midnight on that day to declare you his wife or risk a countrywide ban on the basis of morality. To which, as a direct consequence, he would be ordered to answer to all statewide warrants made for his arrest. That was only his end of the bargain, there was no telling what they’d do to you.

Your marriage was official by 11:56 that night.

The party following would be strictly for photos—a tight hour of partying for the camera and then off to bed.

“The bride needs her beauty sleep.”

You didn’t get a chance to see Elvis again until you were preparing to walk down the aisle. There had been no rehearsal, you had no idea how it was going to go.

The ceremony happened fast, like everything else. They instructed the two of you on every move you made and had you pause for photos along the way. You said your vows—the generic ones the minister told you to repeat—kissed, and you were escorted directly from the altar into a press conference.

“You just sit there and look pretty, mama,” Elvis said. “I’ll do all the talking.”

You were relieved. You were too overwhelmed by the crowd to speak. You sat by his side without tearing your gaze away from him for more than a minute. You were so deeply and devastatingly in love with him—yet you felt no emotion towards your union. You were married before your eyes and you had no time to react.

“What can we expect from the happy couple moving forward?”

“Keep an eye out for us, you’ll see.”

You were whisked away directly for your “honeymoon.” In reality, you spent hours on a plane by yourself back to Memphis—Elvis was going to be away filming in Los Angeles and you were on your way back home.

You hadn’t had a moment alone with Elvis since the night before the wedding and most of that time was spent calling around trying to get it canceled. You didn’t want to leave without speaking to him, but you didn’t get the chance.

“I need to talk to you,” You tried to tell him as he walked you to your flight. There were people on either side of each of you—obstructing the paparazzi’s view.

“Go up with Ray,” He said, gesturing to the stairway of the plane. “I’ll see you back at the house.”

“Elvis,” You said, still trying to get through to him.

“It’s okay, birdie.” He kissed your forehead before you were being ushered up the steps.

“No.”

“I love you, okay?”

You caught a final glimpse of his back as he was rushed to his car. You were on your way back to the house you had left in a frenzy two days prior. You should’ve felt different. Or maybe you were expecting too much.

Andrea was already at Graceland when you arrived. She greeted you as you walked through the door.

“Mrs. Presley,” She said, hugging you. “Welcome to your honeymoon.”

“Wow.” You looked around the foyer. “It’s everything I ever wanted.”

There was a party happening downstairs but you weren’t sure it had anything to do with you. There was always a party downstairs. A constant conjugation of people.

“You aren’t going to spend every day lying by the phone are you?”

“No, Andrea. I told you, I’m just tired.”

She slumped onto the end of the bed. “You aren’t pregnant, are you?”

You were bewildered by the question. “No, why would you ask?”

“It’s been a week since you’ve gotten out of bed.”

“It has not.”

“It has.”

“It’s Tuesday.”

“It’s Friday.”

Time passed like that whenever he was away. You had thought you escaped that feeling forever but you were being reminded of it all over again. The days didn’t matter without him, they were too long and too demanding.

“Serena and Liz are here,” Andrea continued. She stripped the duvet from your legs and stood to turn the lights on. “There are people here to take your picture.”

You complained and shielded your eyes. “The same people from the other day?”

“The same people,” She confirmed. “They’ve been coming every day. They want you sitting somewhere downstairs.”

“Sitting?”

“That’s what they said.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. Maybe because it’s a special day.”

“Is it?”

Andrea revealed a tiny black box with a red bow wrapped around it. It only dawned on you then that you had forgotten your own birthday throughout all the hustle and bustle of the last few days. “Consider it a birthday/late wedding gift.”

“You shouldn’t have gotten me anything,” You said, taking the gift. “I completely forgot about it.”

“I didn’t,” She said. “You’re my best friend.”

You were instructed to sit outside with Andrea as you were served sweet tea and lemonade.

“Where’s Nancy?”

“Maybe she didn’t want to be on film.”

They wanted footage of you around Graceland doing everyday things. They wanted insight into what your everyday life was like here—married to the king. Expect, he wasn’t here, and you were being forced to smile in his absence.

“Just pretend they aren’t there,” Andrea said in a grumble. She wasn’t too keen on being photographed but she set herself aside to avoid you looking like a lunatic having lemonade alone.

“What do they want from me?”

“Maybe we should start dancing.”

You laughed.

After the photographers left, you retreated back into the bedroom to continue to wait by the phone. Andrea griped about going out—to which you reminded her that you’d be attacked or worse if you dared to venture out.

“There has to be some way to get out and get a decent drink,” She argued. “Serena can’t call anyone?”

“I don’t want to worry her.”

“What’s his name that follows you around everywhere?”

“Ray.”

“Tell Ray to get a car and call the bar to tell them you’re coming.”

You shook your head. “I’m not supposed to go out without Elvis.”

She scoffed. “He’s probably out having the time of his life.”

“I doubt it. We can drink downstairs.”

“What is this, a five star resort?”

You smiled wearily. You didn’t want to go out anyway. The phone rang, startling you delightfully. You glanced at Andrea, who understood immediately.

“I’m going.” She stood to leave. “Tell him I said hi.”

“I’m really going to.” You laughed as she left, bringing the phone to your ear. “Hello?”

“Hey, it’s me.”

“…Joel?” Your eyes widened in shock.

“Hey,” He chuckled in a tone so casual it made you ill.

“Hi.” You sounded reserved as a result of your shock.

“I-I figured I’d get you here,” He said. “I’m sorry to call out of nowhere like this I just…I saw the news.”

You deflated, eyes closed. With everything else happening you hadn’t even taken a moment to consider how Joel would feel. You felt immensely guilty that he had heard the news of everything from the media and not directly from you.

“God, Joel, I’m so sorry.” You suppressed the urge to cry. “I should‘ve called~”

“It’s fine.”

“It…it all happened so fast.”

He hesitated for a moment. “Yeah, it did.”

“I’m not just saying that, I swear,” You said. “I didn’t even know it was happening. None of us did…”

“That’s kind of what the guys were saying.”

“Do you still talk with them?”

“Yeah, we’re like family, so…”

You nodded. The circles you were tracing into your knee began to blur with tears as you spoke. “How’s New York?”

He hummed indifferently. “It’s quiet in some places.”

“Well, yeah.”

“Who knew?”

You laughed, trying not to alert him to the fact that you were crying. “Are you happy?”

“I’m figuring it out.”

“That’s good.”

“Are you?”

“Hm?”

“Are you happy?”

“I am.”

For some reason, you felt like you were telling a lie. You were happy. There had been moments in the past few weeks that you felt you couldn’t possibly be happier. But there was a part of you that clung to whatever heartache you had left. Perhaps you wanted to punish yourself with it or use it as a reminder that you weren’t completely heartless.

Joel was silent on the other line but you hadn’t noticed until he spoke again. “I’m glad. Congratulations.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. That’s not why I called.”

“Why did you call?”

He seemed to hesitate before saying—

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Oh…well, thank you.”

“I wanted to say also…” He started. “A-And I don’t want you to think I’m tryin to talk you out of your decision or anything, it's just…it’s a lot happening all at once. It’d be a lot for anyone. So…don’t feel obligated to be something you aren’t because you love a person.”

“…Thank you for saying that.”

“…Anyway, I better let you off of here,” He said, laughing shortly. “I’ll see you in the paper I guess.”

“Yeah.” You cleared your throat. “Don’t have too much fun in New York.”

“I’ll try my best. Take care.”

“You too.”

“O-Oh and, uh, happy birthday.”

You closed your eyes, smiling softly. “Thank you, Joel.”

“Bye now,” He chuckled.

“Bye,” You said, waiting to hear the line go dead before hanging up.

You sat there for a moment, standing abruptly in search of the scrap of paper you used to write down the number of where Elvis was staying. Whoever answered gave you the run around for a while before actually putting you through.

“Who are you again?”

“His wife.”

He answered with an overly delicate tone—one that told you that his failure to touch base hadn’t gone unnoticed even by himself.

“Hey, everything alright?”

“Where are you?”

“I’m~ What do you mean where am I, honey? I’m working.”

You sat down on the edge of the bed. “It’s been a week since I’ve seen or heard from you.”

“Has it?”

“It has.”

“It’s Tuesday already?”

“It’s Friday.”

He tried to dismiss the argument. “You know how time slips away.”

You hummed, agitated. “Yeah, it does that when I don’t hear from you for weeks too.”

“Birdie,” He chided. “Are you checkin up on me?”

“No.” He laughed on the other line. “It’s not funny. When were you gonna call? Next month? Never? I mean, it’s my birthday today. Did you know that?”

“Did I know that?” He asked. “Of course I knew that.”

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not just kicked back havin a goddamn party, honey, I have shit to do while I’m here~”

“I’m not debating that, E, I just thought you’d call.”

“I was going to.”

“Were you?”

“I’m so glad to hear your voice. It’s like music to my ears.”

“Elvis~”

“I’m sorry you couldn’t stay up here with us, I don’t think it was really a part of the plan before the wedding and everything.”

“It’s fine~”

“Next time I’m gonna bring you with me, show you what Hollywood is like. What do you think?”

“That’d be nice.”

He promised that he would make it happen. You didn’t care if you were together in Memphis or LA, you only wanted to be near him.

“How d’you like Serena and Ray?” He asked.

“I feel bad for them.” You smiled when he laughed. “I don’t see what they’re here for. I don’t go anywhere or do anything.”

“They’re there to make sure you’re taken care of, that’s all. To protect you.”

“I wouldn’t need them to protect me if you were here.”

“I know, baby. What do you want me to do?”

There was nothing he could do. He could stay on the phone and talk to you for a couple of hours but it wouldn’t do any good.

“Birdie?”

“Joel called me a minute ago.”

You weren’t trying to evoke any specific reaction, but looking back now, telling Elvis about the call seemed like nothing more than a desperate grab for attention. He didn’t sound like he felt any particular way about it when he responded.

“Did he?”

“Yes,” You said, guilelessly.

“What’d he say?” There was a slight uptake to the end of his sentence—was he irritated with you?

“Nothing really, just congratulations and everything.”

“‘Congratulations?’”

He didn’t sound convinced.

“He said he wanted to make sure I was okay.”

“Well, I’m sure you thought that was nice and everything, honey, but he doesn’t need to concern himself with your well-being.”

“Elvis,” You said admonishingly. “He’s an old friend.”

“Old friend my ass.” He laughed shortly. “Don’t play with me.”

“I’m not. It was a harmless call.”

“So harmless you’re running to tell me?”

“‘Running to tell?’ Please.”

“I don’t care if you talk to him, I just think he should speak to me first.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re my wife. I don’t want him getting any ideas about worming his way back in.”

You laughed, mostly at the thought of Joel ‘worming his way’ back into your life. You loved him—he loved you too, undeniably. However, you’d gone past a certain point with him and there was no going back. The spell was broken and any magic you once had with him was gone.

“I don’t think he’ll call again,” You said. “I’m telling you as a courtesy.”

“Well, I appreciate it.” He shifted on the other line with a sigh. “I’m gonna have to get offa here, baby. They need me.”

I need you, you thought. “Okay.”

“I’m gonna see about getting you and Andrea out here for the last week or so,” He said. “I’ll tell Parker it’s for the press.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. That way I can keep an eye on you.”

You didn’t realize that that would be the last time the two of you would be apart for more than forty-eight hours.

You seldom parted. You were either by his side or within his vicinity. Eventually it became the new normal for you to always be together. It was uncomfortable at first, being around the guys.

You had a feeling they hated you.

*

“What?”

“Where is she?”

“Getting dressed.”

You rushed out of the bathroom—fully dressed for the day—to meet Andrea at the bedroom door. Elvis was off from filming again for a few months and your days had been filled with only each other. Andrea was there, sent by the other guys to get you away so that they could have him.

“They want you downstairs,” She said to Elvis—arms crossed and lips slightly pursed.

“Tell them I’m busy.”

“What am I, your messenger?”

“Are you theirs?”

“Yeah, in exchange for some human decency.”

You stopped them before they kept going. “We were headed downstairs anyway. Right, baby?”

He put his arm around you. “That’s right, baby.”

“I actually need to talk to you about something,” Andrea said to you. “It can’t wait. It’s too important.”

You stepped towards her—concerned. “Is everything alright?”

“Birdie,” Elvis said expectantly, waiting for you to come with him.

“We’re only gonna be a second,” You said with an apologetic expression as you ushered Andrea into the room. “I left something in the bathroom anyway.”

“Straight down when you’re done,” He said, leaning in to kiss your cheek. You smiled and he left.

“What’s wrong, Drea?”

“Nothing, I just said that so he’d go away.”

“Why?”

“Because you’ve been inseparable and we’re all suffering because of it.”

You laughed. “Suffering how?”

“Do you realize that I don’t know a single person in this house apart from you?” She sat down on the edge of the bed. “Ray and Serena aren’t even around to talk to these days.”

“I don’t really know them either,” You said, going to the bathroom. “I haven’t even spoken to some of them.”

“It’s not the same. You’re with Elvis.” She met you at the bathroom door, watching as you opened the pill bottle that you’d gotten off the counter. “Again?”

“They help me relax,” You said. “Do you want one? They’re harmless.”

“No.” She continued watching you.

“I’m sorry I haven’t made time for you lately,” You said. “It’s so hard. Nothing exists when we’re together.”

“You poor things.”

“We should head down now.”

Andrea insisted that the two of you go for a round of cards in the sitting room or a walk outside. You agreed for a change—mostly because you felt guilty for not spending time with her.

You had managed to get away that afternoon and you decided to make it up to her. You spent the day relaxing and catching up on some self care. It was a welcomed break that you didn’t know you needed. You had gotten so caught up with her that night had fallen before you realized how late it was.

“It’s the same thing every time,” Andrea complained as you laid in her bed watching television—a fresh coat of polish adorning your nails. “Why do they even bother?”

“You really expect them to get off the island every episode?”

“Isn’t that the point?”

There was a knock at the door that cut your rebuttal short. You looked at Andrea who shrugged and stood carefully to answer it.

“What, Red?” She asked when she saw who it was, a twinge of annoyance lying under her tone.

“He wants the girl,” Red said in a similar tone, obviously forced to fetch you.

You stood to put your clothes back on—Andrea had given you something more comfortable to wear earlier.

“Is that a question or what?”

“Can you send her upstairs?”

“Please?”

“Please.”

“First of all, Red, the girl has a name, and second she’s not here.”

You stopped shuffling around the room to listen.

“What do you mean she ain’t here?”

“I mean she’s not here.”

“She’s supposed to be.”

“Well, she isn’t.”

Red sighed—you pictured him contemplating his next move. “So, what am I supposed to tell ‘im?”

Andrea laughed. “Hell if I know or care.”

“Where the hell is she, Andrea?”

“I don’t know. I’m not her keeper.”

They stood there for a moment, Andrea reveling silently. Red eventually left, mumbling under his breath about going to find you. She shut the door and faced you.

“You should’ve seen the look on his face,” She said through her laughter as she walked back over to her bed. “He’s scared shitless.”

“You shouldn’t play games like that,” You said, laughing despite yourself. “He’s going to want to know where I am.”

“I know, but let’s give him time to squirm at least,” She said, gesturing for you to sit back down. “Come on, humor me a little. This is the most fun I’ve had in weeks.”

You hesitated—you knew you had a choice whether to stay or go, you just didn’t know which outcome you’d rather face. You could stay, but you’d hardly enjoy yourself knowing Elvis would be worried. He’d think you were missing or that you ran off when Red tells him that he couldn’t find you. But leaving meant ruining the night for Andrea, and you were supposed to be making up for abandoning her.

She spoke again. “You can call and tell him you’re with me if it’ll make you feel better. Or you can go, really. It’s just a stupid joke.”

You shook your head, forcing a short laugh as you spoke. “N-No. You’re right.”

“About what?”

“I-I don’t know…you’re always right.”

You laughed nervously and rejoined her on the bed. The phone rang—you both knew who it was.

“Don’t answer it,” You said before she could. “It’s fine.”

The silence between the two of you as the phone rang out was tense, and uncomfortable—at least it was for you. Eventually it stopped ringing and all that remained was the sound of the television.

“Do you think they’ll make it out this time?”

“I sure hope so.”

[daydreamgoddess14]

Support System pt. 8

Roy Kent x Reader, spicy rating - MASTERLIST

CH1 | CH 2 | CH 3 | CH 4 | CH 5 | CH 6 | CH 7

It's gala time! With a sprinkle of Tedbecca cos I've missed them!

ohh and this is the gif on repeat in my head (that SMILE!! JFC):

~~~~~~

He hasn’t seen the dress yet. You’ve hung it up in his spare room while you deal with the other stuff you don’t do all that often like hair and make up - and when you do do it, you have a little shadow following you and asking if she can share your lipstick, what’s mascara, and why do you need to put that weird thing on your eyelashes. You’d both had to rush to get ready for work after he’d fucked you in the kitchen, everything taking that little bit longer when you could hardly keep your hands off each other. He’d gone off to Nelson Road with the promise of meeting you in the city so he could collect his suit. He’d run you a bath when you’d both gotten back to his, kissed each little fingertip bruise on your hips. You’d gone with Sara to get a manicure for the first time in a very, very long time, while Phoebe played Princesses with Roy.

“Jesus, you’re glowing. It’s sickening.” She laughed.

“I know you don’t want to hear this but just pretend it’s not Roy for a sec, cos it’s not really about him anyway, but it’s insanely different. Like night and day different to anything I’ve ever experienced in my life, Sara. My whole fucking life. It’s like I’ve been struck by lightning. With Andy it was just about him, with anyone else before actually. Like they didn’t actually care about me, it was only ever about them. And I mean that in every aspect, not just the sex.” She pulled a face, “I know, I’m not going to talk to you about the sex, I promise. I wish I could, because I need to shout it from the rooftops in all honesty.” 

“I told you, he’s so ready to make someone happy. I’m glad that person is you.”

“I’m still nervous about tonight.”

“Don’t be!” She said, full of confidence.

“These people mean as much to him as you and your mum and Phebs do. It’s like you three top tier, then this entire building full of people he adores.”

“You’ve met Jamie though?”

“Yeah, but he still thinks I’m just your best friend. He’s going to know as soon as he sees me that that’s not the whole truth.”

“So are you labelling this thing when you meet everyone later?”

“He said it’s up to me. But I don’t want it to be up to me. Or not completely anyway.”

“If anyone asks, you’re friends. They don’t have to know that you’re friends who are sleeping together and are almost certainly more than friends.”

“Hmm. You’re right, we can do that. That sounds easy.” 

“Ah. Wait, no. Forget that. I’ve seen his face around you. It’s literally impossible for him to disguise that he likes you. And tonight, with the dress and the boobs and the legs he’s just not going to be able to keep his face like,” she exaggerated Roy’s impassive, grumpy face, “that all night. He’ll never be able to manage it.”

“Oh.”

“So they find out you’re seeing each other - does it really matter?”

“Suppose not.”

“Exactly. So just enjoy it. Enjoy grown up company, drinks and a really fancy night on the town with a whole football team. You’ll have a blast.” You knew she was right, you repeat her comments in your head as you potter around Roy's room - hair done, make up done, you've just finished putting in some earrings and now you're having trouble with your necklace. 

"Not going to fucking lie, if this is the outfit then I'm fine with that. I want my money back and we're not leaving the house, but I'm fine with all of that." He says from the doorway where he's been standing for goodness knows how long. His suit leaves you speechless, perfectly tailored with sharp lines. You know he can tell that it's had an effect on you.

"Make yourself useful." You tell him, handing him your necklace and turning your back on him. 

"There are other ways I can do that," he suggests once he's done the necklace up, hands tracing the line of your strapless bra and your underwear. 

"No time babe, the car is due soon isn't it?"

"I'm sure I've got time for something at least." He hooks his thumbs into your underwear, using them to pull you over to the bed and sitting down, moving you between his knees. You cup his face in your hands and kiss him, knowing you made a wise choice in not putting your lipstick on yet.  

"I don't think we do. God, you look gorgeous." You run your hands down the lapel of his jacket. 

"Bet you a fiver I can make you come and leave you enough time to finish getting ready before the car gets here."

"I'm not taking that bet," you laugh,

"Cos you know you'll fucking lose." He teases. You swat at his shoulder, 

"Aren't you wasting valuable time?" His eyes light up, hands squeezing your bum.

"Well, it's not exactly what I wanted but you'll only tell me off if you have to do your hair again." His hands, as promised, make very quick work of you while he talks about everything else he wants to do. He holds you to him as you come back down from the high. "Dress on then." He tells you, taping your hip. "I'll be downstairs." He leaves you with a lingering kiss filled with promises for later. You step into the dress and lift it into place, reaching around for the zip. You slip on the shoes and apply your lipstick, checking the whole look in the mirror. You feel amazing, you just hope he agrees. He hears you on the stairs, "just in time-" He starts, but stops abruptly. "Holy fucking shit."

"That's what I said." You laugh. "It's OK?" He hasn't said another word or taken his eyes off you while you navigated the stairs. You wring your hands nervously. "Roy? Fucksake, say something please? Is it awful?"

"You look incredible," he finally says hoarsely. "Fucking incredible. Show me?" He takes your hand, urging you to turn around and show him the whole dress. When you stop in front of him again, his hand goes to the thigh high slit up the front of the dress. "I definitely can't wait to take this off." 

"When's the car coming?" You ask, stepping into his arms. 

"It should be outside." He leads you out. In the car, his hand slips under the split of your dress to rest on your bare thigh. "Remind me to take advantage of this later when you’re less fucking nervous."

~~~~~~~

Your grip on his hand gets progressively tighter the closer you get to the venue. 

"Look at me?" He asks quietly, "It's going to be fine. They're going to love you. And god, you look gorgeous." You take the arm he offers at the start of the red carpet, you'd tried to skip it completely but you couldn't bear the thought of Roy having to do it alone. Photographers had also asked for Roy on his own but his response had been a very tame "No." Inside the venue, you spotted the only people you knew, the American coaches and Jamie both at opposite ends of the room. Once people noticed that Roy had not arrived alone, they seemed to all be looking at you at once. 

"Royo my man, why don't I escort your lovely date inside and get a table, seems the fellas need you and it might be a bit like throwing this poor young lady to the lions. Maybe give them a Kent word of warning before you introduce them?" Coach Lasso kindly offered you his arm and before leaving your side, Roy checked in with you. 

"Think I can cope with that." You smiled. 

"I'll bring you a drink back." He kissed you softly and walked over to the first group of young men you'd seen out on the pitch. A couple of them clapped him on the back in greeting, looking over at you and then back to him. You could see from his profile how much he smiled. Ted led you into the ballroom which was decorated to perfection. 

"This looks amazing." You breathe,

"It does, right? The boss likes to make it one of the best nights we have. She does a damn good job too."

"Wonder if I'll meet her," you muse.

"Oh you sure will, Faith Hill, she and our Roy are good friends so if he wants you to be meeting anyone tonight, it'll be her."

"Oh. Great," your smile falters just a little.

"She's an incredible woman. Lotta fences, but once you've hopped over those, it's like winning the Premier League. I'd imagine, anyway."

"Hopefully you'll get to find out. Only a couple of matches to go."

"That's right, Manchester next week and then West Ham." He's easy to talk to, friendly and sincere and he has you laughing so much you forget your unease. When Roy joins you with drinks, he doesn’t hesitate to kiss you in front of everyone, happy that you're happy. 

"Right, the boys are on their best behaviour if they talk to you."

"You didn't need to do that."

"I did, the dickheads would have been bloody asking for your life story. No filter on 'em. You been OK with Ted?"

"Totally fine, we've been talking about work."

"Boring."

"We're both at an impasse. I need something new, he's not sure what to do. It's all very dramatic," you drink your wine and look around the room at the assembled guests, "I didn't get through the two interviews from the other week." You admit.

"Shit babe, I'm sorry. They're missing out, it's their loss."

"Thank you. Feels like a ticking clock looming over me."

"We can figure it out. I can help." You know he doesn't just mean financially, emotionally too, but your mind is focused on the practical issues first. 

"I wouldn't want you to do that."

"I know. You might have to stop being so stubborn at least for a bit and actually accept help though." You run your fingers over his knuckles, his hand firmly in yours. 

"I know. I'll think about it when I have to though, ok?" He nods. "No more boring talk. Who you going to introduce me to?" You look around again, Ted is talking to Rebecca over by the bar. He's making her laugh. "Think anything is happening there yet?" You ask, leaning in to talk quietly. 

"Not yet, but I think she likes him too." You sigh,

"That's so cute. Look at how he looks at her."

"There is someone I want you to meet," he tells you, pulling you to your feet, "but only if you want to?" You laugh a little nervously. 

"It's Keeley, isn't it?" He kisses you and it’s just slightly over the line of publicly appropriate. 

"Only if you want to." He promises again. You might as well agree, it's easier to get it done sooner rather than later and every time you've looked at her she's been looking curiously at you. He leads you by the hand to where Keeley is sitting with Jamie and two other players. 

"This is Keeley, Colin, Isaac and you already know Jamie." You smile warmly at them all and they welcome you to their table. 

"I knew it!" Jamie grins, "you sly git, I knew something was going on the other week. Friends my arse! You look lovely, I like the Chelsea blue." He nudged Roy, clinking their beers together, you watched the smile bloom across Roy's face, it was infectious. 

"It's lovely to see him so happy. You look fantastic!" Keeley teases. 

"Makes our life easier too, y'know." Isaac laughed with Colin who readily agreed. 

"Alright, alright. I'm not that bad." He grumbles. Everyone around you falls silent but you truly can't help the giggle that bubbles up and out until you're laughing so hard you can't catch your breath. They watch you for a second before Jamie breaks first, followed by Keeley. Colin and Isaac soon relax and laugh too.

"Oh babe, I honestly say this out of love, you are though!" You laugh again. Next to you, Jamie stops laughing straight away. Roy looks at you, his eyebrows furrowed.

"Next round on me. Wanna help me Roy?" Jamie asks and gets up from the table, Roy's hand just squeezes yours before he gets up. On the stage, Rebecca is welcoming the gala guests. Keeley turns to you and you grimace at what you think she's about to say. 

"Don't worry, he just needs a minute to process that and wonder if you meant what he thinks you might mean. Better have an answer ready for later." She offers with a gentle smile. "So what do you do?" She's guiding you to a safe conversation topic but you're not quite sure why. Then it registers - your passing comment, her advice, and your eyes widen as you realise what you said, "I know. Spiral later, deep breath now." You try and relax, finishing your wine. 

"I'm a deputy Comms Director. Well, I was. I quit recently so I'm looking for something new."

"Oh wow, I love working with internal Comms, you guys know exactly what you want. Makes my job so much easier!" She laughs and pulls you into a deep discussion about external PR and internal department politics. You glance at Roy occasionally, meeting his eyes more than once. His face is impassive, unreadable. He still holds your hand, thumb resting on your pulse point while he's in his own conversation with Isaac. Your table is visited frequently by other guests and you get introduced to many other people as the evening draws on. At the auction, Roy looks relieved and nudges against you, 

"Thank fuck I don't get auctioned off anymore."

"Tell me about it, I couldn't afford you." You joke, brushing his lips in a brief kiss. 

~~~~~~~

Once the auction is over, you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom. You're maneuvering yourself in the cubicle when you hear the doors open. 

"You look cosy with Roy's new squeeze." You hear an elegant voice say. 

"She's so fucking cute, Rebecca. Honestly. I hope he's ready for her because she could be the best thing that's ever happened to him."

"OK, that's not what I expected to hear from you. Really?"

"Really. We're friends, really good friends and yes, I loved him so much. But I wasn't the right person at the right time. Maybe she is. As long as he doesn't cock it up."

"Maybe your time hasn't happened yet? What if it's still to come?"

"All respect, Rebecca, I think how Roy and I go our separate ways is not too tricky to work out. You and Ted however…" 

"There is no Ted and I."

"Exactly! That's my point, and my problem! You can't let him leave, babe!"

"I can't force him to stay either."

"Do you love him?" It's no good, you have to move. Doing so will make your presence known but you just have to suck it up. You emerge from the cubicle to see the two women sitting on a small sofa with a cocktail in hand. Keeley noticeably gasps so you hold your hands up in surrender. 

"I'm sorry, I wasn't eavesdropping, I promise. I didn't realise what a nightmare it was going to be to go for a piss in this dress, it's so fucking big and there's so much sodding material-"

"I'm sorry," Keeley starts, Rebecca is watching the two of you with interest.

"Oh don't be, god it could have been worse! You could have said I was a right bitch, or not good enough for him. Believe me, I'll take what you said no problem." She sighs with relief. 

"Thank fuck for that! Have you two met yet?"

"Not yet, you must be Roy's new girlfriend. Gorgeous dress." Rebecca reaches out to shake your hand. 

"Thank you. Not sure I deserve that title just yet, it's early days."

"You like him, don't you?"

"Like him? She might have just admitted in a very roundabout way that she loves him, Rebecca!" Keeley squealed.

"Well then the girlfriend title definitely fits"

"Stop deflecting Welton, I asked you a question." Keeley got back to business. "Do you love Ted?" She looks at you and you make to leave, 

"Don't mind me, I'll leave you both to it."

"Stay." She urges. "Yes, I think I am Keeley, and I don't know what to fucking do about it."

"Tell him!" You and Keeley both exclaim.

"You can't let him leave without telling him." You tell her. 

"She can't let him leave at all, he's brilliant." Rebecca seems ready to give up on the discussion.

"I'm not going to let you both gang up on me. You should know better," she points at Keeley, "and you, I hardly know. No offence." She points at you. She leaves the bathroom first while you and Keeley linger.

"So, what I said about my feelings for Roy? Totally true, we're friends. I'm getting closer to Jamie again, but I don't know what that really means. The only thing I don't know for sure, is how Roy feels. We've been split up for nearly a year, there's no reason he should shy away from anything with you. But his mind works in mysterious ways. You're better off talking to him. My advice is to be honest and open with him no matter how scary it is." She's taken your hands while she talks and when she's finished, she wraps her tiny arms around you. You're not tall but she's so petite it's comical. "So, we should go and fucking dance?" She gives you a wicked grin. "Maybe we'll get lucky and Ted and Rebecca will start something on the dancefloor. God, I'd pay good money to see those pair bang!"

Roy is looking out for you from across the room as you leave the bathroom, he gives you a little salute. 

"Keeley wants me to dance," you tell him, going for your drink. 

"Told you you'd get along." He leans down to kiss you. "I get one later though." You join Keeley and half the team on the dancefloor where you spend the majority of the rest of the night. As the evening winds down, Roy takes you into his arms where your stay for song after song. You notice Rebecca and Ted out of the corner of your eye dancing together and turn both you and Roy so he can also see. "Fucking idiot should tell her." He chuckles, holding you tighter. 

~~~~~~~

In the car on the way home, his hand finds its place on your thigh again. The quiet and the alcohol make you pensive, you're mulling over almost admitting that you love Roy, and Keeley's comment about making sure that he's moved on from her the same way she has from him.

"I'm sorry for saying what I did in front of everyone. It just fell out of my mouth, I didn't mean to ambush you with it." You start. He knows you're not done, you're worrying your bottom lip with your teeth, and you won't meet his eye. "Keeley's so beautiful, Roy. I mean, really so gorgeous." You'd never been one for comparing yourself to other women. You especially tried to avoid comparing yourself to the exes of someone new. You believed in the right person at the right time, and that exes helped shape a person. It had taken leaving Andy to help you regain who you were, for example, so like it or not - he had helped you become you. And so, you absolutely couldn't dislike Keeley, you knew that she'd helped Roy become this version of himself. She’d been so gracious, kind, and sweet during the evening, you’d had a lovely time. But that almost made it worse - comparing regular exes to footballers exes was like comparing apples and oranges. And try as you might, you weren't able to escape the fact that you were not a model. "I'm not her." You tell him, the worry evident in your voice. "What if she's the 'big love of your life’? I don't… I don't want to be a placeholder girlfriend. If you're not done with her, then I need to know." He didn't say anything for a long time, he keeps his hand on your leg while the car travels past the stadium and into his street. He thanks the driver, comes round to open your door and still hasn't said a word. He unlocks the front door and slips off his suit jacket before he turns to you. He takes your hand and guides you to sit you on the stairs and paces in front of you, rubbing his hand over his beard.

"If you'd asked me probably before Christmas, I think I would have said that I still had feelings for Keeley. But in the last six months, I've seen her change and I think I've changed too. Fuck it, I've tried to. I think it's crept up on me and I hadn't fucking realised it, but I am done with Keeley." He's still pacing methodically in front of you, making sure he says exactly what he wants to say, the way he wants to say it. "Properly done, I mean. I love having her as a friend, she's really good at that shit and I'd be lost without her. I could say the same about Jamie too but don't tell him, he's already a massive twat." He pauses to collect his thoughts. "She might have been the big love of my life… if my life had gone in a different direction. But it didn't. It's led me to you, and you could never be a placeholder girlfriend." It takes a couple of seconds but he kneels so that he's lower than eye level with you, leaning back on his heels. "I don't want you to be a placeholder girlfriend, I want you to be my fucking girlfriend, and I honestly say this out of love," you giggle through the tears that have started to fall, "you're a really good one." He leans up to kiss you. "Now please tell me that's the answer that covers all the shit that's been worrying you?" You kiss him back deeply, sliding forward on the step to bring your knees either side of him. 

"I think that covers it. God, I really fucking love you." His laugh is magical,

"Fucking love you too. I love Lexie. I love that you can't park for shit and you're late for everything, and that you made my mum like you within about 5 minutes. She didn't even like me within 5 minutes." You kiss him again as his hands open up the split of your dress and slide up your thighs. He brings you further forward on the step and brings your underwear down your legs. "I'd spend the rest of my life on my knees worshipping you, even if it kills my bad knee." You lean back on your elbows as he brings his mouth to you and you believe every word he says.

~~~~~~~

[suchine-toki]

(The last one I swear) Top 10 Gintaka moments

Arranged chronologically because it was too difficult to choose. Spoilers ahead.

1. Boke and tsukkomi

We get another glimpse into their relationship during the Shouka Sonjuku days through a memory of Zura. Gintoki appears annoyed about only fighting against Takasugi, though the latter reveals he is ahead 57-56, which means that in a short period they had already fought more than 100 times. This implies that, as the years went by, their duels became a little less frequent. But what is really interesting and adorable here is the way Takasugi acts as Gintoki's tsukkomi and playfully scolds him (ch. 563).

2. Kick the can

At Kurokono Tasuke's suggestion, they decide to play basketball kick the can. Although it is later revealed that Gintoki and Takasugi intended to counterattack the enemy the whole time, they were clearly engrossed in the game, as evidenced by the fact that they put small bushes on their heads to camouflage. This seems to be a tactic they learned from their teacher, considering Zura did it as well. Despite everything, he notices that Gintoki and Takasugi seem more enthusiastic about competing against each other to see who is the first to launch a surprise attack on the can rather than the actual war (ch. 453).

3. Naivety and embarrassment

Around a campfire, Gintoki discusses the course of the war with Sakamoto and Zura and whether they would eventually become imperial forces if their side won. Aside from this being the only occasion where Gintoki thought about a future for himself beyond rescuing Shouyo, Takasugi mocks the idea as naive. This scene appears to be after the one where they made their promise, because Takasugi is aware that Gintoki doesn't fight for the country or for fame, but for their teacher. Thus, with great confidence, he asserts that they know what they are doing and that is enough. However, the way he says it irritates Gintoki, who then proceeds to tease him about the name of the Kiheitai, followed by some insinuations that Sakamoto quickly picks up on and joins in (ch. 633).

4. Him or me

After the events with the Ikeda family, it is revealed that Takasugi and Nobu Nobu are behind the scenes. The latter notices Takasugi's hostility towards him, so he reassures him that he never intended to go after what he calls his prey, Gintoki. Upon hearing this, Takasugi quickly changes his demeanor to a more relaxed and confident one, asserting that he would not be able to take any of their heads. Before leaving, he threatens him that if he changes his mind, either Gintoki or he himself will finish him off. This is not only another occasion where Takasugi becomes upset when others talk about Gintoki in front of him, but it also shows how, even at this point and before their confrontation, he still felt some camaraderie and understanding towards Gintoki (ch. 468).

5. Lingering feelings

Gintoki didn't only become emotional in his final fight against Takasugi when he had to attack his possessed body. In their first real confrontation, there is a direct parallel between Gintoki's face before being forced to kill Shouyo and his face before cutting Takasugi. They had already been fighting for a while, but this shows that at this moment Gintoki was already on the verge of tears. He didn't want to do it, but if someone was going to stop Takasugi, it had to be him. Arguably, this is the first time it is shown how much Gintoki still loves and cares for Takasugi even after all this time and everything that has happened (ch. 519).

6. Only me

Takasugi asks Shinpachi not to let anyone else take Gintoki's head because only he can do it, which adds to other occasions where one speaks possessively about the other. But this time it is because there are still unresolved matters between them, so Takasugi asks, in his own way, that he survives, just as Gintoki asked him 10 years ago when they made their promise during the war (ch. 575).

7. Believe in him

When Hijikata interrogates Gintoki, he fills in the gaps regarding what happened with the Tendoushuu and how all the information points to Takasugi conspiring with the enemy. Despite this, Gintoki tries to defend him, highlighting the fact that Takasugi helped them two years ago and has no reason to ally with the Tendoushuu, to which Hijikata insists that Takasugi is the type to prioritize goals over the means to achieve them. Still, Gintoki refuses to speak and betray Takasugi in any way, prompting Hijikata to question his loyalty and if the reason he insists on protecting Takasugi is because he still believes in him while being interrupted by Robozaki (ch. 674).

8. Underwater fight

When Gintoki is at his limit, surrounded by a group of assassins, a boat with explosives arrives to save him, which is revealed to have been sent by Takasugi. Gintoki doesn't miss the opportunity to tease him, calling him "mastermind" or "Hikusugi-kun," a wordplay referring to his height, and teases him about his lingering affection for the Kiheitai, the latter provoking an offensive response from him. They bicker some more before they are attacked and thrown into the water, where they fight against their enemies while also fighting each other (ch. 677).

9. Shitty brat & crazy hoodlum

This is one of the most peaceful scenes that occurs between them since they reunited. Here they are not fighting each other or anyone else, but simply talking while walking, another glimpse of how their relationship used to be. They clearly look comfortable next to each other, smiling and joking, showing how happy they are to be together, although neither of them would admit it (ch. 683).

10. Go back

On multiple occasions during the final arc, Takasugi tried to convince Gintoki, both gently and harshly, to return to the Yorozuya and his loved ones in Edo. This shows how selfless his love for Gintoki was, that even if his heart was divided because he wanted to be by his side, at the same time what Takasugi most desired was for Gintoki to be happy, with the tragedy that he wasn't really aware that he was part of Gintoki's happiness (chs. 673, 677, 683, 690, 699, 703).

Part (1) (2) (3) (4) (Bonus)