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star-girl69 · 6 months ago

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Too Sweet

Caroline (KK) Harvey x Fem!Reader

—-

synopsis: a niche celebrity yourself, you and caroline try to keep your relationship private and secret- despite the rumors circling. but secrets come out when you’re on live.

a/n: this MIGHT be the worst thing i have ever written… anyways 😍 from this ask, i hope you all enjoy!!

Too Sweet - Hozier

warnings: reader cries like twice, i took this and ran w it lmao, hmmm like hurt/comfort, mentions of sex, kissing, the whole shabang, swearing, pretty chill but suggestive at times so lmk if i missed anything!!

—-

“Oh, my God!” You shout, sitting up in your girlfriend’s bed, blankets slipping off of you. She groans next to you, head falling off of your shoulder and arm still around your waist.

“I was asleep,” she complains.

“Look!” You shout, shaking her slightly as you shove your phone in her face.

Caroline, your very wonderful and very sleepy girlfriend who claims naps just aren’t the same if you’re not in bed with her, blinks a few times as her eyes adjust. You unpause the Tik Tok video, and the song plays, some emotion forming in her eyes that you can’t quite name. The sound starts looping again, and you shake your phone.

“See? It’s an edit! Of me!!”

She smiles. “Oh, wow, baby. You’re really famous now, huh?” Your stomach twists as she watches the edit in total adoration, pupils blown despite her sleepy eyes. It’s just a clips of you from screen recorded lives or Tik Tok’s from someone on the team, but you can’t help but be happy anyways.

You don’t want that whole famous thing, the spotlight and the pressure- you’re just glad your girlfriend is getting the attention she deserves. She’s the most talented person you know- an Olympian, for God’s sake.

“I like this,” she smiles. “It’s cute. Send it to me.”

You laugh but send it anyways, your eyes catching on the small text that says 12 comments.

Nobody knows you and Caroline are dating. At least, the fans don’t. After Caroline started coming to fame and Laila followed, the Badgers become sort of a social media hotspot. They were all talented and hilarious- they deserved it.

You’ve only been dating Caroline for a few months, but you’d been friends with her for years before that- always teetering on the edge of something more. In fact, the first time you were ever brought up was people questioning who you were in the background of lives- questioning if you were dating someone on the team.

Caroline did love her fans a lot, she often ranted about how cool is was being able to share her life with people and how amazing it was to be an inspiration to so many young girls who feel discriminated in sports, but the talk of introducing you to them hasn’t quite come up yet.

Maybe you’re still in the honeymoon phase. Maybe all the people who deserve to know- your friends and family- are the people who already know.

user-1 ok who tf is she. seriously like i love her but WHO

user-2 @/user-1 her name is y/n!! she doesn’t play for the badgers but she’s friends w all of them and hangs out w them a lot

user-1 i heard a rumor she’s dating kk… i would actually go crazy.

user-4 ok she’s pretty but like kk and i are married sooooo

user-3 i don’t even think she’s that pretty tbh

user-2 um ok wow wtf did she do to you

user-3 nothing i just don’t think she’s that pretty

user-3 if she is dating kk then kk could do a lot better (cough me cough)

You can’t help but frown, reading the words over and over again.

“What?” Caroline asks, cupping your hand with her own to angle the screen towards her. She turns from half-asleep to wide awake in seconds. “They don’t know what the fuck they’re talking about.”

You turn your phone off and let it drop onto the blankets, turning towards KK. She sits up immediately, putting both of her hands on your face- but you can’t quite meet her eyes.

“Hey, hey. Don’t listen to them. Look at me. Please. Don’t listen to them.”

“I’m not,” you say after a moment, eyes still shut. “It’s fine. I just… don’t get it.”

“You’re the most beautiful girl in the world, and you’re all I’ve wanted for years. And now that I finally have you, I’m not letting you go. And I’m not letting you get it in your head that you’re not good enough for me- because you are.”

You don’t notice a tear has fallen down your face until she’s kissing it away.

“You’re perfect,” she says, with an air of finality you can’t help but smile at. “I love you. Don’t think otherwise. Of course, if you need some reassurance I’m always down to tell you how much I love you.”

“Thank you, KK,” you whisper, softly clearing your throat as you’re finally able to meet her eyes. “I love you, too.”

All you can do is think about when she won the NCAA championship last year, when she was high off of the win and came out of the locker room to find you- smiling so brightly and gushing about how good she had played- and all she did was smile at you, grab your face, and kiss you so hard you got tilted back onto an axis you didn’t even know you were knocked off of.

And suddenly, with her lips on yours, everything in the world felt right. And it’s felt right since then. It feels right now, 4 months into your relationship, with Caroline holding your face and kissing your tears away.

“Maybe we shouldn’t tell them,” she whispers, kind of blurts it out. “I-I’ve been thinking about this for a while, and, well, this kinda sealed it. I don’t want them to get in your head, like this. I… just want you all to myself, really.”

You laugh, and she smiles back, her eyes moving from your lips to the bridge of your nose to your eyes.

“Won’t keeping it a secret be kinda annoying?”

“I mean, not being able to show you off will suck, but if it means you don’t cry about stupid people again then I’ll do it.”

“Okay, then. We don’t have to tell them.”

“Exactly.” She kisses you, once, like she’s sealing a promise between the two of you. “Besides, nothing about you is ever annoying.”

—-

The edit of you ended up going kind of viral, and then more and more were made, until suddenly you had 2000 followers on Tik Tok and hundreds of private messages begging you to go live with the team, or film some kind of video, or do anything.

The first thing you ever posted was a simple get ready with me, and that received so much support you did another one, and then you did a day in the life- that one featured Caroline, so it went very viral- and suddenly you went live one night, and then it all just kinda fell into place.

There was nothing more exciting then getting another sweet comment or message telling you how much they looked forward to your videos, or absolutely hilarious comments people would leave under your posts.

But, with your own social media fame skyrocketing and Caroline’s still staying strong- she was right. They did judge you, they did get into your head.

And they weren’t dumb, you quickly realized. This sort of abstract group of people you called “they” and listened to, they knew something was happening.

There were three instances that caused the fans to guess you and Caroline were more than just friends.

—-

The girls decided to have another movie night, and all of you were laying lazily about the couches and the floor, Laila on live showing off her fabulous singing skills yet again, and you were sitting with KK on the couch.

You weren’t even that close to each other. Your thighs touched, sure, and she had her arm around her shoulder- but she kept it back, so it was more so on the back of the couch and not touching you. But, her comforting presence was there, and that was enough for you.

Someone had paused the movie a while ago, and it had turned more into a hangout session that was filled with obnoxious singing and laughter.

“I should probably go soon,” you muttered to KK.

“Why?” She frowned, pressing her leg into yours.

“I have a test tomorrow morning, I should go to bed soon.”

You still whispered to each other, even though the room was pretty loud.

“You sure you don’t wanna sleep over? I’ll drive you over in the morning.”

She was always trying to get you to sleep at her apartment. Or just be at her apartment in general- sometimes, you would hang out at their place while they had practice and make dinner for them, and KK would jokingly call you her wife and thank you for having dinner on the table.

You have to cross your legs when she wraps her arms around you and kisses your cheek, saying “thank you, my wonderful wife.”

“I wanna be in my own bed, K.”

She leans in, closer to you so her lips are ghosting over your ear. “My bed is your bed, baby.”

She leaves a kiss to the shell of your ear, pulling away with a small smile on her face and you can feel your cheeks heat. And she knows the reaction she has on you, and she’s very proud of it.

You smile. “I’m sorry, Caroline. Not tonight, okay?”

“Are you sure?” She asks, hand playing with the hair at the back of your head. You turn to her, amused smile on your face she can’t take her eyes away from.

“I am one thousand percent sure that I don’t want to go to your place tonight.”

“You’re no fun,” she teases.

“I’m plenty of fun,” you gasp, faking offense with a hand over your chest. She takes her arm off of your shoulder.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you gonna prove that? ‘Cause I don’t think I believe you.”

“I think I proved that Friday night.” You place your hand on her chest, fingertip drawing patterns on her collarbone. She visibly swallows. “You remember?”

“Fuck yeah I remember, but I still think you should show me again.”

“Fuck!” Laila suddenly shouts, and you whip around only to find her frantically clicking buttons on her phone before simply throwing it across the room.

The chatter stops. Ava, another girl on the team, picks the phone up from where it’s fallen by her feet and looks at it.

“Um, what was that for?” She asks, and you can see the live ended screen on Laila’s phone.

“I’m so sorry,” Laila says. “They heard you.”

Your eyes widen. “The thing about Friday night?”

“I don’t know! I wasn’t listening to you, what the fuck were you even saying? I just looked at the comments and suddenly everyone was asking who KK was talking to, and like, ‘wow, KK is so hot.’”

Caroline rolls her eyes. “Okay, whatever. That could have been about anything.”

“Caroline,” you mutter. “It’s pretty obvious it was about sex.”

“Okay, shush,” Laila says, holding her hands out. “First of all, why are you doing that when we’re all in the room? Second, oh, my God I am so sorry.”

You sigh, cracking your knuckles. Caroline immediately grabs one of your hands. “It’s not your fault, Lai. It’s fine- I mean, if we ignore it then they’ll probably just stop talking about it. Right?”

“Probably,” Laila agrees. “They’ll forget about it tomorrow. Hopefully it doesn’t end up in the edits.”

You can’t help but laugh. If you don’t laugh, you might cry.

@/user-1 here’s the screen recording!! side note: i NEED to know who kk was talking to at the end.

> View 102 commets

user-2 wait what do they say at the end

user-3 @/user-2 basically kk and another girl are just flirting like crazy

user-4 @/user-3 they could still be friends

user-3 @/user-4 um no that was gay as hell

user-5 WHAT HAPPENED FRIDAY NIGHT KK PLS PICS OR IT DIDNT HAPPEN

user-6 @/user-5 EXACTLY

—-

Your voice felt a little scratchy, and you couldn’t stop coughing- you had been screaming so hard during the entire game that you’re sure you’re going to wake up without a voice tomorrow.

The Badgers just won the last game they needed to win- the qualifying game for the Frozen Four tournament. This was the third year in a row Caroline had gone to the championships, and by the way a huge dog pile had formed on the ice when the buzzer went off- everyone was just a little excited.

You waited as patiently as you could outside of the locker room, but you found yourself again fidgeting with your hands and walking back and forth. All you could think about was just kissing Caroline so hard you saw stars, and telling her how good she did.

You closed your eyes for a moment, finally leaning back against the wall as you thought back to the goal she had scored. Maybe it was weird, but there was honestly nothing sexier to you than watching Caroline in her element like that.

Hockey was where she shined, where she was her truest self- and not only was it exhilarating to watch her in general, but she also looked really good doing it.

The door finally creaked open and your cheeks burned from smiling too hard, all of the Badgers coming out of the locker room and running to great their own friends and family who had gathered outside. It took a second for her face to appear in the line of people exiting, she was laughing with Laila and a few other girls about something, she was smiling just as wide as you were and, God, she looked so pretty.

When she saw you, it wasn’t possible for her smile to get bigger, but her smile changed. Suddenly, you felt so loved just by the way she was looking at you.

You practically ran across the room, half jumping into her arms, pressing yourself as close to her as you could. You kissed her nose as you wrapped your arms around her neck, and her hands ran along down your arms to your shoulders, then down your sides to finally hold onto your hips.

“Holy shit,” she said, smiling, still kind of in disbelief.

“I am so, so, so fucking proud of you, baby.”

Her eyes search all across your face, almost like she’s taking in every inch of this moment. You know that she’s been looking forward to this moment since the buzzer went off- her weird pleasure is that she thinks you’re so hot when you’re supporting her- and she drinks in everything about you like she’s trapped in a dessert and you’re water.

She doesn’t need to say thank you, because the way she kisses you, hands squeezing your hips even closer to her, hard and unrelenting and depriving you of air but you can’t think about anything else when she gets like this with you, is more than enough.

She kisses you like she’s starved, and there’s nothing else you love more than this moment with her.

When she does finally pull away, panting slightly but still chuckling at the way you’re literally about to pass out from lack of air- that’s the one shitty thing about her endurance, you swear she’s gonna kill you with kisses- she presses her forehead against yours.

“Thank you,” she breathes. “Thank you. I love you, Y/N. I love you so much.”

There’s a few tears in her eyes.

Laila suddenly appears next to the two of you, her 6’1 frame quite literally casting a shadow over the two of you and your happy moment.

“We’re having a moment, Laila,” KK groans, but she’s smiling so hard.

“Great, some rando is taking a video, though.”

“Fuck.”

> View 236 comments

user-1 IS THAT CAROLINE HARVEY? IS THAT CAROLINE HARVEY KISSING A GIRL??

user-2 kk harvey girl kisser confirmed… this is a win

user-3 KK HOW COULD U CHEAT ON ME

user-4 @/user-3 KK THE KIDS MISS UUUUU

user-5 ok but appreciation for the hand placement.

user-6 @/user-5 THE WAY SHES KISSING HER??? LIKE A WOMAN STARVED??? that’s a hozier kinda kiss bro

user-7 @/user-6 would do anything to be in that girls place rn

user-8 can’t tell very well from this angle but i think the other girl is wearing a harvey jersey!! how cute

user-9 ok but the way laila blocks the camera from seeing them… that’s my wifey right there

user-10 absolutely obsessed with the way kk covers the other girls face when they walk away

user-11 @/user-10 we love a protective gf

user-12 don’t mind me just watching this video for the hundredth time

user-13 okay am i going crazy or is that y/n l/n??

—-

“Ok, hi Live. Y/N, say hi to the live.”

“Hi guys!” You smiled at the camera, keeping your eyes fixed on the boiling pot of pasta you were currently stirring.

“What are you guys making?” Laila reads, before shoving the camera yet again in your face.

“Okay, calm down,” you scold, setting aside your spoon and grabbing her phone. “Don’t bother me while I’m dealing with dangerous liquids.”

“It’s water,” Laila deadpans.

“Boiling water.”

Laila rolls her eyes but doesn’t give a verbal response, so you just smile and switch the camera around.

“Okay so, as you can see we’ve got some pasta boiling and some veggies and chicken cut up, and then we’re gonna cook that, and like… yeah.”

You look back towards the comments, most of them asking for KK. You decide to be nice, looking around the apartment and finding that your girlfriend is nowhere to be found.

“Carolineeeee,” you call, stretching out her name. “The people want to see you!”

The door to her bedroom creaks open, and she walks out carrying a hoodie. “What?”

“Laila went live,” you explain, flipping the camera around. “Okay, smile! Give us a little wave!”

user-1 y/n is so mom core

KK gives you a bored look, but begrudgingly puts on a very fake smile and waves.

“Aww how cute! What’s the hoodie for?” You ask, turning the camera back around and doing a few poses for the camera, admiring yourself.

“You. You said you were cold, like, two seconds ago.”

“Oops. Yeah, I did.”

user-2 kk is such a sweetheart

user-3 kk who were you kissing in that video??

user-4 i’m 99% sure it was y/n

user-5 i don’t think so

user-4 nobody asked you

user-6 KK PLS ADDRESS THE VIDEO

You prop the camera down against a random glass of water someone left on the counter, catching the hoodie Caroline throws at you and quickly putting it on.

“Okay, fit check!” You do a little spin, watching KK smile at the way her last name looks on your back. “Hoodie is from Caroline, bottoms are from… Under Armor, and… yeah, I don’t know where these socks are from.”

A few people compliment you, but the chat is still mostly filled with people asking for KK- or asking about the video.

The video that thankfully hasn’t been connected to you yet… but still, your name has been mentioned as a culprit multiple times.

You sigh, heavily. “I’m not good enough for them, they only want you, KK.”

She smiles but joins you in front of the camera, her eyes catching on your pouty lips for a second before she looks at the camera, wrapping her arm around your waist and standing close to you.

Immediately, the comments flood with questions about the video.

The two of you very pointedly ignore them, and Caroline finally gets up to grab the phone, opening the cabinet above the stove and propping it up in there. You sit on the counter behind them, legs swinging in the air as Laila shows off her vegetable cutting skills before dumping them in a pan to cook.

KK leans right next to you on the counter, her shoulder touching your arm, she squints at the camera before placing her hand on your thigh. You look down for a quick second, seeing that was in fact KK’s hand very not-friendly placed on your thigh, whipping to her with your eyes wide.

“Caroline,” you whisper, trying to subtlety push her away from you.

“Relax,” she whispers back. “They can’t see. You’re still my girlfriend, I wanna touch you.”

You look away, hoping the camera doesn’t catch the heat in your cheeks or the way you smile.

“Y/N,” Laila says, reading yet again from the live. “Someone wants to know why you’re always at our place.”

“What kind of question is that?” KK asks with an amused smile while you laugh. She pinches your cheek with her free hand. “Who wouldn’t want to look at this face all day?”

“You certainly do,” you laugh. Caroline smiles up at you. You’ve long since decided her smiles are your favorite thing in the world, but every time she smiles at you- which is a lot- you still get that same feeling you get when she first kisses you at that game.

“Okay,” Laila says, acting nonchalant as she turns around. “Hello?” She says, so quietly you have to read her lips. “Tone it down?”

You suddenly realize what you said.

You swallow and suddenly find the ceiling very interesting.

Caroline squeezes your thigh to be comforting but doesn’t look at you. You really want her to look at you. You wonder, for just a second, if maybe it would be easier to just tell people.

Then you remember the comments.

You still get them sometimes, the random trolls who don’t think you’re pretty or worthy enough for KK, to be friends with the team in general- and they make you feel so fucking shitty about yourself that KK’s even caught you crying about them a few times.

You know it’s stupid.

You try to listen to her, to not let them bother you- but maybe you’re just not as tough as her. Or you’re stupid, weak, sensitive- they bother you. They cut you deep like a sharp knife.

You hop down from the counter, KK’s hand sliding off of you. “Gonna run to the bathroom,” you mutter.

You can feel Caroline’s eyes on your back as you walk away. And she does come find you, but she waits a minute. She does ask what’s wrong, and you say nothing and she knows you’re lying- so she asks Laila to end the live.

And even though they’re not there anymore, you still carry the fear of their judgement.

@/user-1 screen recording from the live!!! i love kk and y/n’s relationship so much <3

> View 97 comments

user-2 if y/n and kk are JUST friends i’ll pay everyone on this planet 100 dollars

> view comment thread

user-3 really?? idk i think they’re just friends

user-4 kk said “who wouldn’t want to stare at this face all day” and y/n said “you do” that’s gay…

user-5 kk literally got a hoodie for her when she mentioned she was cold and then when she came on camera she looked at y/n’s lips

user-3 i just don’t know if i see it tbh like i don’t see them together

user-5 they’re dating mark my words

—-

It’s been weeks since the video came out, since the clips of the lives started circling, since more and more people starting saying your name when discussing who KK was dating- since everyone pretty much knew she was dating someone now, the only question was who.

Thankfully, despite the initial week where your comments were filled with people asking who Caroline was dating- asking if it was you- it finally died down, and people had either forgotten it or gotten bored by the lack of response.

And, you had found comfort in your own account. There was the occasional hate comment- but you didn’t cry anymore. There were always people ready to defend you, and everyone was just genuinely so sweet to you. They wanted to know about your life, your routines, your outfits- and the KK content you provided was just an added bonus.

That’s what you’re doing, Friday night at 4pm. The Badgers had a home game today, and like most home games, you were going to watch from the stands, cheering on your girl and the rest of your friends.

You decided to go live, sitting on the floor in KK’s room in front of her floor length mirror, pulling out her desk chair next to you, placing a stack of books on it and propping your phone up against it.

It was kind of therapeutic, answering random question about yourself and the team while you got ready. You showed the camera each product you used, and then they watched as you put it on- a few people even managing to give you helpful tips. It made you feel kinda wanted, kinda loved, kinda…good.

The door opens, and you look over your shoulder to see Caroline walking in.

“Hi, K,” you greet.

“Hi,” she says back, kind of distracted, already rifling through her messy bedside table, then her dresser-

“Okay, what are you looking for?” You laugh, smiling.

“Hairtie.”

You roll your eyes. “Babe, they’re on your desk, remember?”

“Oh,” she mumbles, eyebrows raising as she suddenly remembers that, yes, she did put the ceramic jar full of hair ties on her desk last night. She grabs one, standing behind you and pulling her hair back into a somewhat lazy ponytail.

She crouches down behind you, putting her arms around your neck. She looks at you in the mirror, and you look back.

“Well?” You say, teasing her, looking for a thank you.

She smiles.

“Thank you, baby.” She kisses your cheek. “Always keeping me in check.”

Your phone suddenly buzzed about 20 times, and you look over to the desk chair, mouth dropping in horror as you realize you’re still on live.

Fuck.

You’re still on live.

“Shit!” You practically screech, grabbing your phone and panicking, hitting buttons randomly before opting to just close the app altogether. “Shit. Shit. Shit.”

Caroline is completely frozen behind you.

“Were you… just… on live?”

“I’m sorry,” you breathe, and suddenly tears are streaming down your face faster than you can stop them, and all you can do is watch your pretty makeup get slowly ruined. “Fuck. I’m so sorry, I- I don’t- I’m sorry.”

Her hands come to your shoulders and she fully sits down behind you, massaging your shoulders gently as she kisses the back of your head, shushing you softly.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, sweetheart.” Her lips move against your hair. “Baby, it’s okay.”

She doesn’t try to comfort you beyond that, just calling you baby and telling you it’s okay, even though you want to scream that it’s not. It’s not okay.

She just lets you cry. And you cry, you cry for what feels like twelve hours.

“Y/N,” she finally whispers.

“What?” You moan back, sniffling.

“What are you thinking right now?”

You scoff at the ridiculous question.

But, you can’t help but lean back into her. She wraps her arms around you, keeping your arms tucked to your sides, her legs outside of yours, touching you- you never feel safer than you do when you’re in her arms like this.

“I’m thinking I’m the worst girlfriend in the world, and-”

You’re cut off by another sob.

“I’m so sorry,” you say again, because all you can do right now is apologize. “Are you mad?”

“Am I mad? Baby, I’m fine. It’s completely fine. Maybe this wasn’t the most perfect, thought-out way to launch “us,” but it’s okay. I promise, I’m not mad. And I promise it’s going to be okay.”

“Caroline,” you groan.

“What, baby?” She asks, kissing your cheek.

“I don’t know. Why did we even do this in the first place?”

“You cried. Because of the hate comments. And I don’t want to see you cry. But that was so long ago, babe, now you’re really famous. I mean, you have, what, 5000 followers? That’s impressive. We… we were just so new back then, and I was scared that you would break up with me. It was me. I was scared. I told you, I just want you all to myself.”

“I wouldn’t break up with you over that.”

“Well, I know that now,” she smiles.

You finally manage to open your eyes, meeting her gaze in the reflection. You look like a mess.

“I don’t know how you manage to stay so pretty when you cry.”

You try to hide a laugh, but you can’t.

“I’m sorry that we didn’t get to control how we did it, but I’m not sorry that we kept it for hidden longer. It was time, babe- it was getting on my nerves. All the bugging me about who I was kissing after games… I was done with it. I love you, and this is nothing.”

“I love you,” you repeat.

“And this is nothing.”

“Honestly,” she starts, loosening her grip on you. “We made this into a big thing.”

“We did,” you chuckle. You glance at your phone, still readily receiving texts. The notifications you originally got were from your friends who were on the live, who had saw Caroline kiss your cheek and call you baby, and immediately freaked out and texted you, realizing you had forgotten you were on live. “Whatever. This is nothing. We’re together, everyone knows, it’s fine.”

“And if anyone has a problem with that, you have 5000 followers to attack them with.”

You roll your eyes. “I would argue your, what, 35 thousand is more impressive and effective?”

“Same difference. Wait, hold on, can I get your autograph? You’re literally my favorite celebrity, like, ever. I would die for you, I love you so much.”

“Oh, no, I’m sorry- no more autographs today. My hand is cramping from writing so many,” you frown, flexing your hand dramatically.

“Can I get a kiss then?”

“Very weird thing to ask a celebrity, but… you’re hot, sure.”

@y/n she chose me she don’t want u 💋

> View 327 comments

user-1 most iconic way to announce a relationship ever i fear

kkharvey4 love u baby so glad ur all mine

user-2 @/kkharvey4 hey thanks for ripping my heart out of my chest… happy for u or whatever tho

user-3 GODDDD THEYRE SO CUTE IM DEAD

user-4 fuck she’s beautiful… can’t even be mad

user-5 ok but they ate… power couple fr…

user-6 this reminds me of the day kate martin hard launched. i need to mourn

user-7 bitch i fucking called it

#caroline harvey #caroline harvey x reader #kk harvey #kk harvey x reader

372 notes · View notes

electricbathsalt · 8 months ago

Text

Things I want to talk about/touch upon/see people mention more but cannot compile individual coherent posts about:

1. The fact Pops’ daughter apparently had a “falling out” with Pops (over her marriage??) that caused her to completely abandon the yakuza and maybe also cut contact with Pops (the dude is suspicious guys)

2. The fact that in the Overhaul-LOV initial meeting, Chisaki had to have intentionally chosen not to kill Mr. Compress.

3. The idea that many of Chisaki’s thought processes at least partially stem from his time in AFO’s facility. And of course, Pops.

4. How much Chisaki seems to lack a proper reaction to any sort of pain (He was beat to a pulp by Mirio & Midoriya, exploded himself, & got his arms cut off and I’ve never heard him so much as yelp) while still complaining about how overhauling himself hurts?? Yet he doesn’t show it.

5. (Highway scene) How Chisaki only screamed once the realization he wouldn’t be able to ever wake up Pops sunk in (isn’t confirmed but. I’m convinced).

6. The fact that there’s absolutely no way Chisaki wasn’t negatively impacted by being raised in the Yakuza. It’s simply inherent.

7. The blatant disregard Pops had to have had for both Chisaki and Eri’s well-beings to have designated Chisaki as her caretaker.

8. The endless amounts of potential for Chisaki & Dabi/Touya dynamics post-war, platonic or otherwise. (Multiple fics with this premise in my WIPs, lol)

9. The fact Chisaki seems practically incapable of holding a grudge. Like, think about it; is there a character you can say Chisaki genuinely, wholeheartedly hates and wishes the worst upon. You know what—what IS his opinion on Shigaraki/the LOV these days??

10. Realizing that in the initial Overhaul-LOV meeting, Chisaki literally just tone-matched them. Look:

Mr Compress says all that, and then Chisaki later explains:

Which, once you break down what Mr Compress said/how he said it, and what Chisaki said/how he said it… blunt statement of facts. Mr Compress told Toga how faded out the Yakuza have become with no sugarcoating, and Chisaki took that and said. “Well. Yeah.” But then when Chisaki did the same thing (blunt but true & valid criticisms of the LOV/Shigaraki’s leading skills (bc let’s be real, he was an ass leader at the time in terms of actual planning and execution)), the LOV got pissed. He pointed out all the relevant flaws and mistakes in Shigaraki’s leadership and then said it’d be better if he was the leader because he actually has a plan, and they got pissed at the mere prospect of serving under somebody else. Do you realize how much the story would’ve been altered if the LOV didn’t decide to just start attacking Chisaki here?? 💀 Sorry I’m exceptionally passionate about this bc the fandom gaslit me for a while into believing Chisaki was the one starting shit here 😔 but then I read it (a long time after I'd watched it in the anime) and was like. "what. he didn't initiate literally any of this shit. and everything he's saying is true??"

There’s probably more I could add to this but it’s getting long enough lol.

#bnha #chisaki kai #kai chisaki #overhaul #mha #league of villains #shigaraki tomura #dabi #todoroki touya #shimura tenko #rambles #rant #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #shie hassaikai #bnha pops #bnha eri

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loycos · 2 months ago

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my head's a bit clearer, some thoughts about act 3

-my biggest gripe is episode 7- cool idea, love the concept of peaking into a different universe and seeing what our characters couldve been under different circumstances, but a WHOLE episode. when you only had 9 episode in this season, that already feel like theyre moving at a neck's pace. for a universe that ultimately doesn't matter to the main universe where the story takes place. the fact it had timebomb made it feel extremely fan service-y.

-no emotional resolution to a lot of characters. viktor and jayce are the only ones i can think of that felt like they got the screen time and care for an actual emotional closure.

-isha wasn't even mentioned in this act. in general she was already a martyr for jinx's character development but guys can you make it less obvious.

-it started in act 2, hence why i was so jaded on it, but it continues here: just where the fuck the political drama between 2 cities go? the conflict between zaun and piltover took a back seat since episode 4 and never came back. the resolution to it isn't bad per say, but when u got so little focus on it in the finale it just feels rushed.

-i loved the cait and jinx scene. but like, that was the resolution to it??? after act 1 thinking about it disappoints me. im not against a conversation being the climax to a story, but that is, and im not joking, the ONLY conversation these 2 have in the show one on one. in general the jinx\cait\vi arc ends with 1 conversation per duo (well caitvi got one fight and one very steamy sex scene but u won't catch me complaining). and after act 1, idk i think i wanted just a little bit more. im biased though- the jinx\vi\caitlyn dynamic is my favorite part about arcane. the teasers for s2 always had them front and center so i assumed it'll play a bigger part in the story???

-i felt like what the show was at its core, which is the conflict between the sisters and the cities, was completely sidelined this season. in general i can't really tell what the main theme of the show is anymore. but yeah look at the resolution to the jinx and vi story.did it feel like it had the emotional impact u expected? cause i felt like it was underwhelming.

-sevika?? didnt speak since episode 4???? huhh???

-maddie was pointless. why was she there?? i don't understand the point of that character. i dont understand her motives. she ended up not mattering at all to caitvi's story. the only thing i got from her inclusion is "caitlyn fucks" but is it that THAT important??? of a character trait??? to add to caitlyn of all people?? in THIS season??? this belongs in the realm of fanfiction.

-a lot here felt like fanfiction actually. every silco inclusion (except of him in the cell with jinx), the whole "nobody dies au" they threw in the middle, even the caitvi sex scene (IM NOT COMPLAINING THO). the caitvi scene at the end was dialog out of fanfiction, wtf was that.

-why did caitlyn lose her eye? im not like against the idea on a base level but losing an eye is very symbolic, and im not sure what its supposed to represent here. caitlyn is an observant person, its a big character trait for her. so youre basically saying she sees less now? that she's more laser focused? i sure hope not. wasnt her whole arc with giving up of revenge about seeing the "bigger picture"? her sacrifice didn't feel in character, because caitlyn is not really a "fight to the death" type of character like ambessa is. if she made that sacrifice for something like love, or for the betterment of other people, that would be more in line. idk, you couldve made me on board with it but im just very meh on it. also caitlyn only really emotes through her eyes, it sucks that we get even less of it now?? though i guess it doesnt matter at this point.

-what was the point of the enforcer that looked like vander?

-ambessa was so wasted in these last 2 acts its crazy. where's the "you have to be the fox and the wolf" mindset from her? she felt like she was wolfing only with no wit anymore by the 3rd act.

-mel????????????? it was. uhhh. maybe you shouldve saved it for another series, riot. but in this show, waste of time. the fight she had with caitlyn against ambessa was cool tho.

-i sound like im a hater but u have to understand. s1 of arcane was a political drama and a character study show. seeing all this discarded for magic and time travel shenanigans on like 4 different fronts was so jarring it took me out of the show multiple times.

-cant believe im saying that, but i wish they'd try to stick closer to the characters' current state in the source material (the cursed game). someof it felt out of left field and done for shock value, which isn't why we love the story or these characters to begin with.

good stuff:

-caitvi sex lmao ill take it babyyyyy

-jayce and viktor's scenes at the end were powerful.

-as usual, the visuals were phenomenal. the animation is gorgeous. fortiche u made this show what it is and youre still its saving grace.

-thank god they dropped the warwick\vander plot

-i liked the implication of the conclusion to jinx's story, even if it felt a little inconsistent with the character.

-the ending to jinx\vi\caitlyn was poetic and i did love it, even if it was rushed and didn't really hit the emotional highs i wanted it to.

#arcane #arcane spoilers #arcane season 2 spoilers #that was a ride #this wont top the original but u can always just watch the first 4 acts and then skip to the caitvi sex #which is what ill be doing probably revisiting this show #ill give this a rewatch and probably wont be so harsh on it after but those are my first impressions

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tevanavernus · 4 months ago

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You Look So Pretty, Pretty Like The Sun - Chapter 11

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 , Chapter 5 , Chapter 6 , Chapter 7 Chapter 8 , Chapter 9 , Chapter 10

link to ao3: chapter 11

Buck really liked Tommy. Adored him, actually—more than anyone he'd ever dated. Had deeper feelings for the man than he was ready to fully admit. But if Tommy woke him up one more time, Buck was pretty sure he was going to strangle him.

When Buck said he could sleep for a week straight he wasn't kidding. His body was fully exhausted and falling into the bed felt like heaven. Having Tommy beside only added to the bliss. Or so he thought.

Buck's blissful sleep didn't last nearly long enough for him to enjoy it. In fact, every-time he was drifting off into that deep, glorious sleep, Tommy seemed to sense it and shook him awake to check on his concussion. It was sweet, of course—Tommy caring about him. But Buck? He was about two seconds away from losing his mind.

Buck could already sense the next time coming. Tommy sighed, rubbed his eyes, and paused before reaching out. Here it comes, Buck thought, bracing himself.

"I will smother you," Buck grumbled out before Tommy reached out to touch him.

Tommy exhaled harshly in half a snort and instead of shaking him, shifted closer. His arm wrapped around Buck, pulling him snugly into his chest. A moment later, Buck felt Tommy's lips press gently against his shoulder. "Kinky."

"I'm fine. I know the president, my birthday, and that I need sleep," Buck mumbled, his voice thick with exhaustion. He pressed back into Tommy's warmth, trying to erase any space between them.

"Mhm. See you in a few hours," Tommy replied softly, his breath warm against Buck's skin. His stubble grazed Buck's neck, sending a shiver through him that made him wish he wasn't so tired.

"I'll blow you if you don't wake me up," Buck tried to bargain, his voice muffled into the pillow.

"Nice try." This time Tommy did snort, pulling him even closer. At least Buck couldn't complain about the cuddles.

What he could complain about, though, was Tommy depriving him of coffee the next morning.

When they finally dragged themselves out of bed and into Tommy's kitchen, Buck was salivating at the aroma of freshly brewed coffee. Tommy, with all the audacity in the world, made himself a steaming cup that looked divine—rich, dark, and he even poured a dash of the hazelnut milk that Buck knew Tommy kept around now, specifically for him.

Then, with a smile that could only be described as too innocent, Tommy slid a mug toward Buck.

Buck blinked, staring down at the cup in front of him. Tea. Chamomile tea. And just to twist the knife a little deeper, Buck's eyes landed on the small words printed across the tea bag tag: decaf.

"Wow," Tommy said. "You really mastered the kicked puppy look."

"I feel like a kicked puppy," Buck mumbled, his gaze locked on Tommy's cup like it held the meaning of life. "You're kicking a guy that's already on the ground."

Tommy took a slow, indulgent sip of his coffee, clearly enjoying the moment. "Doctor's orders," he said with a grin. "No caffeine for you, remember?"

"Why do you even have decaf Chamomile in the first place?" Buck stared at the tea, his face scrunching in distaste.

"It's good for you," Tommy shrugged, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Buck scoffed, glancing at the tea as though it were some kind of cruel punishment. "Good for me? It tastes like disappointment."

Tommy, completely unfazed by Buck's grumbling, just grinned. "Not today, concussion boy. Drink up."

With a reluctant sigh, Buck took a sip. And of course, he was right—it did taste like disappointment. Shifting in his chair, his gaze flickered back to Tommy's cup. His mind spun, searching for a way to negotiate.

"Hey, Tommy?" Buck asked, putting on his best pleading face, the one that worked way more often than it should.

Tommy, without looking up, hummed in response, "Hmm?"

"How about this? You give me one sip of yours and I won't ask again for the rest of the day." He tried as he slid his hand across the table, inching toward his goal.

Tommy chuckled, shaking his head as he placed his hand over Buck's, stopping it just short of the prize. "You're adorable, but not even a sip."

"You're borderline cruel," Buck groaned dramatically, letting his head fall onto his outstretched arm in mock defeat. He could practically feel Tommy grinning wider.

"You'll live," Tommy said, his voice full of affection. "And you'll thank me when you're not nursing a splitting headache later."

Buck huffed, not convinced. "I'm not thanking you for this."

Tommy took another slow, exaggerated sip of his coffee, savoring it. "We'll see."

Buck glared half-heartedly, plotting his next move.

======

Turns out, when you have a concussion, time crawls—especially when your boyfriend is a bossy rule follower. Buck had been through concussions before; this wasn't his first rodeo. But in the past, he'd usually handled them on his own, and he wasn't exactly known for following doctor's orders to the letter. He'd bend the rules, push the limits, and deal with the consequences later, a little worse for wear but still standing.

But now, with Tommy? Those rules didn't budge an inch.

Every suggestion from the doctor was treated like law—no caffeine, no screens, plenty of rest—and Tommy enforced each one like it was his personal mission. Buck had tried bending the rules at every opportunity, even the smallest bit, but Tommy didn't budge. Not an inch. It was infuriating, in a caring, loving kind of way.

After numerous failed attempts to get his way, Buck had finally convinced Tommy to let him help with making lunch. It was a small victory, but at least he wasn't completely sidelined.

But it didn't last.

For one moment, just for a second, Buck felt a little lightheaded, and had instinctively gripped the counter to steady himself. He hadn't even said anything, but Tommy noticed instantly. Without missing a beat, Tommy was at his side, gently but firmly guiding him away from the kitchen.

"Couch. Now," Tommy ordered, his tone leaving no room for negotiation.

Buck groaned in frustration, rolling his eyes but not bothering to argue as Tommy guided him back to the couch like a wayward child. He sank into it with a heavy sigh, staring up at the ceiling.

"Come on Tommy, this is getting ridiculous," Buck borderline whined. "I'm fine!"

"Says the guy that got dizzy a few seconds ago."

Buck rolled his eyes dramatically, folding his arms over his chest. "It wasn't even that bad. I just needed a second."

Tommy, ever patient, squatted down in front of him, resting his chin on his crossed arms on the arm of the couch. "A second is all it takes to hit the floor, and then we're back in the ER."

Buck huffed, "You're being overly cautious," he muttered.

Tommy leaned forward, his hand gently brushing through Buck's hair. "Yeah, well, we had a busy day yesterday while you were supposed to be resting." His voice softened, and his eyes held a quiet plea. "Just humor me for a bit longer, okay?"

How was he supposed to resist that? Tommy with his soft voice, gentle touch, and those eyes that Buck couldn't say no to. It wasn't fair.

Buck grumbled something incoherent, but the fight was gone. He sank further into the cushions, the couch feeling a bit more comfortable now.

"You're lucky you're cute." Buck mumbled.

Tommy chuckled softly, brushing his thumb lightly across Buck's temple. "Yeah, well, you're lucky I'm stubborn," he shot back, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. He pressed a quick kiss to Buck's hairline before rising to head back to the kitchen, leaving Buck to his own devices.

To his credit, Buck did try to follow the mandated prescription of staying put on the couch. But sitting in silence, twiddling his thumbs? Never his strong suit. After a few moments of staring blankly at the ceiling, he glanced over at the kitchen door to make sure Tommy wasn't about to catch him in the act.

Buck reached for the remote on the coffee table. He made sure to lower the volume to practically a whisper—no need for Tommy's "stubbornness" to kick in again—before flicking through the options on Tommy's Netflix account. He scrolled through the suggested titles, but nothing really grabbed his attention. He ended up settling on one of the shows about the most dangerous animals in Central America.

He tried to follow along, but soon enough, his eyes started to sting, like dust had somehow gotten into them, and his concentration wavered. He blinked a few times, but the discomfort didn't go away. With a long, frustrated sigh, feeling defeated once again, he closed his eyes, choosing to listen to the show instead.

He wasn't sure how long he stayed like that—his mind drifting somewhere between being half-awake and almost dozing off—but clearly enough time had passed for Tommy to return.

"I'm this close to ordering a baby monitor just for you," Tommy's voice broke the quiet, startling Buck slightly.

Buck opened one eye to see Tommy near the couch, balancing two plates of food in his hands.

"Wasn't watching," Buck muttered defensively, blinking his eyes open fully. "Just… listening."

Tommy gave him a look, somewhere between amusement and exasperation. "What am I going to do with you?" He sighed dramatically as he set the plates down on the coffee table. He moved to sit at the edge of the couch, where Buck's legs were stretched out. With a gentle grasp, he lifted them and placed them over his lap, making room for himself before settling down. His thumb absently traced small circles over Buck's exposed ankle.

Buck's eyes immediately fell on the food— tomato soup, with steam rising from the bowls, accompanied by crispy grilled cheese sandwiches. Nothing fancy, but the savory smell of melted cheese and fresh tomatoes hit Buck like a wave, causing his stomach to betray him with a loud growl.

"Hmm, feed me?" Buck grinned sheepishly, feeling the heat rise to his cheeks as he rubbed the back of his neck.

Tommy shook his head fondly and pointed to the food with a teasing smile. "Better start digging in before you starve."

Buck, not needing any further encouragement, sat up enough to reach for his plate. Balancing the bowl of tomato soup so it wouldn't spill on the couch, he brought it closer, and took a slow, cautious sip, letting the savory, rich flavor wash over him. An appreciative moan escaped his lips when he bit into the sandwich next.

They sat together, digging into their food while Netflix played low in the background. Buck couldn't help but glanced at Tommy from time to time, his heart swelling with affection for the man beside him.

Tommy's eyes flicked to Buck, a knowing smile tugging at his lips. "Better?" he asked, his voice soft but full of warmth.

Buck swallowed the last bite and nodded, grinning around his spoon. "Much better."

======

They eventually settled on the couch after finishing their meal, the dishes momentarily forgotten on the coffee table. Buck carved out a space behind him so Tommy could lie down. After a bit of awkward shuffling and adjusting, they managed to fit snugly on their sides, with Buck using one of Tommy's arms as a makeshift cushion. It didn't take long, with the warmth of Tommy's body against his back and Tommy breathing by his ear to lull him into a light doze. He wasn't entirely asleep, just drifting on the edge, feeling completely content.

At some point, Tommy moved, stirring him just enough to notice. He reached for the remote, switching the TV to a sports channel, and the low hum of the commentator filled the room. Buck opened one eye, catching a glimpse of the football game flickering on the screen, but his attention didn't linger. Instead, he turned around, seeking out more comfort.

He pressed himself into Tommy's chest, his arms wrapping around Tommy's waist as he nuzzled against him, seeking out the familiar heartbeat beneath his ear. Finding it, he let out a content hum.

Tommy, let his arm settle back down, slipping under Buck's shirt. His fingers traced soft, mindless shapes over Buck's skin as he nuzzled the top of Buck's head with his cheek.

"Sleep, baby," Tommy whispered softly, his voice barely louder than the hum of the TV.

Buck murmured something unintelligible in reply, too cozy and lazy to form real words. His grip on Tommy tightened slightly before fully relaxing again.

The next time Buck was woken up, it wasn't because Tommy shifted or shook him awake to check on his concussion. Instead, it was the sharp blare of a phone's ringtone jarring him from sleep. Not fully awake, Buck groaned softly, instinctively reaching out toward the coffee table, his hand fumbling for the phone. It took him a second to remember he was still phone-less.

Tommy shushed him gently, pressing a soft kiss to the top of his head as he began to untangle himself from Buck's arms. "I've got it."

Buck let out a sleepy grumble in protest but didn't fight it. He felt the warmth of Tommy's body leave him as Tommy rose from the couch, standing up and stretching before quietly following the sound of the ringing phone.

Buck rolled onto his back, blinking groggily at the ceiling. He sighed, lazily draping an arm over his eyes, trying to fight the drowsiness as he waited for Tommy to come back. In the distance, he could hear Tommy's muffled voice as he answered the phone, his tone low, like he was trying not to disturb Buck any more than necessary.

It didn't take long for Tommy to return, phone and a glass of water in hand, but instead of lying back down beside Buck on the couch, he nudged Buck's legs aside and sat on the edge. The slight shift made Buck peek from under his arm.

"I'm sorry, baby, but you'll have to wake up," Tommy said softly, placing a gentle hand on Buck's shin. "Eddie gave my number to Athena. There's a detective who wants to come talk to us."

Buck groaned in protest, his voice muffled beneath his arm. "Tell them to go away. We're busy. Come back to bed."

Tommy chuckled, his fingers squeezing Buck's shin. "I wish," he said, the smile audible in his voice. "But the sooner we talk to him, the sooner we can get back to bed."

Buck let out a long, exaggerated sigh. "What happened to me resting? This is a violation of your prescribed recovery plan."

Tommy chuckled again, his voice soft and full of affection. "I know, I'll make it up to you," he promised, handing Buck the glass of water. "Here, have some water while I clean up."

Reluctantly, Buck lowered his arm and sat up, accepting the glass from Tommy. He took a slow sip, eyeing Tommy with a pout. "This better be quick."

"Let's hope," Tommy agreed with a nod, rising from the couch to gather the dishes. Just as he turned to walk away, Buck reached out and grabbed his arm with a quick 'Hey.'

Tommy glanced down at him, his expression curious, but before he could say anything, Buck tugged him closer, using the opportunity to pull him down into a kiss. It was somewhat awkward—Tommy towering over him, plates balanced in his hands, while Buck had the glass in his—but they made it work. Buck's lips met his in a warm, somewhat lazy yet lingering kiss. He heard Tommy hum appreciatively and Buck was tempted to deepen it, and make them both forget about their interruption.

When they finally broke apart, both of them were smiling. Tommy, still half-bent over Buck with the plates in hand, gave him a playful smirk, "You're insatiable."

Buck grinned, leaning back into the couch with a satisfied look. "You're the one who kissed me back," he quipped, his voice low, as if challenging Tommy to argue.

Tommy chuckled, straightening up. "As if I can ever say no to you."

"You're pretty good at telling me no today," Buck reminded, the denial of coffee still fresh in his mind.

"One of us have to be responsible," Tommy replied. "Now, please behave until I return."

The interview was anything but quick. By the time the doorbell rang, Buck had already splashed some water on his face in the bathroom and walked around the house to wake himself up.

After quick introductions, Buck was back on the couch, staring at the detective across from him and answering what felt like an endless string of increasingly annoying questions. Every detail was combed through, picked apart, and then repeated as if Buck's memory would suddenly change with enough prodding.

No, he didn't notice anything unusual in the station.

No, he didn't know where the fire started.

No, there wasn't any unusual smells or sounds or sights.

No, he couldn't recognize who jumped him.

No, he had no interactions with a damn cartel in his life.

Yes, he was sure.

By the time they circled back through the same questions for what felt like the hundredth time, Buck was exhausted, both mentally and physically.

The detective gave him a sympathetic smile, but it did little to ease the frustration building inside him. "Take your time. If anything else comes to mind, even the smallest detail, it could help."

Through it all, Tommy remained nearby, leaning casually against the wall with his arms crossed. He watched the questioning silently, waiting for his turn, but just knowing that he was there, eased some of the annoyance.

Eventually, the detective's attention shifted to Tommy, and with it came a whole new set of questions. Buck, barely holding onto his own patience, felt his frown deepen when the questions became more specific— about what Tommy knew before deciding to get involved, the exact events that transpired in the warehouse, and, most notably, why Tommy had chosen to get himself entangled in the cartel situation when he could've stayed out of it.

Tommy didn't outwardly react to it, but Buck knew him too well at this point. The slight jump in his eyebrow, the almost imperceptible tightening of his jaw - were all clear signs to Buck that Tommy found the question distasteful, maybe even offensive. The detective wasn't just asking about the details; it felt like he was questioning Tommy's character.

Buck clenched his jaw, resisting the urge to jump in. He knew Tommy could handle himself, but the way the detective framed his questions felt like an accusation rather than an inquiry. He hated the way the detective was questioning Tommy, as if his choice to help was somehow suspicious, as if he had to justify his every move.

Tommy, to his credit, maintained his composure, but there was a sharpness to his tone when he finally responded. "Look," he replied, his voice clipped, the irritation barely concealed. "I have my boyfriend's back, no questions asked. So I don't particularly care to stop and ponder if I'd be better off not getting involved. He needed me, I was there. That's all there is to it."

The detective jotted something down in his notebook, his face betraying nothing. Then, with a tone that felt almost casual, too casual, he said, "That's interesting. So you'd back Buck up, no matter what, without asking too many questions. That kind of loyalty… It can get tricky. You sure it's always the right call?"

Buck's blood ran hot at the insinuation, his hands curling into fists at his sides. The fuck? Was the detective really insinuating that Buck would take advantage of Tommy's supposed loyalty?

Before Buck could even think about snapping back, Tommy's voice cut through the tension like a blade.

"Works pretty well for our military, doesn't it? Act first, ask questions later?" He narrowed his eyes. "Why shouldn't I apply it to my own personal life when they do such a good job of instilling it?"

Buck glanced at Tommy, his heart pounding in his chest, not just from hearing Tommy defend him without hesitation, but from something else. He hadn't heard Tommy speak with such coldness, such calculated sharpness before. It was jarring, almost unsettling, to hear the normally soft voice sound with that much bite.

It was so easy to forget, that Tommy wasn't just the cool, funny and soft pilot-boyfriend Buck saw him as. The man, that Buck was falling deeper for everyday, wasn't all warmth and gentleness. That there was something harder underneath, something forged from a lifetime of discipline and witnessing things that Buck could only imagine. Years that hadn't always been kind to him.

And right now, that side of Tommy had surfaced, all because someone had dared to question his judgment when it came to Buck. It was one thing to believe Tommy would have his back, but to actually witness it? It hit Buck harder than he'd expected.

The detective, sensing he'd hit a nerve, scribbled something down in his notebook, his expression neutral, though Buck didn't miss the slight hesitation before he moved on to the next question.

Tommy's hand relaxed slightly, the tightness in his jaw easing, but the room still felt tense.

Thankfully for Buck's sanity, the questioning wrapped up soon after. The detective offered a vague, "We'll keep in touch," before rising from his seat. There were no promises, no direct implications that Buck would need to testify or get further involved.

Tommy walked him out and Buck let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding when the door closed. When Tommy came back into the room, he circled the couch and, with a touch of theatrics, all but collapsed into it. Buck smiled and leaned in, so their shoulders would touch.

"You're banned from ever giving your number to anyone again," Buck muttered, the playfulness in his voice cutting through the lingering exhaustion.

Tommy let out a soft laugh, tilting his head toward Buck with a raised eyebrow. "Oh, so I'm the problem now?"

"I'm not the one that gave your address to find us. In fact, I remember telling you to tell them that we are busy." Buck grinned wider.

"Gotcha. Next time, we'll just become fugitives," Tommy said, feigning seriousness.

"Next time, huh?" Buck teased, nudging him playfully. "So you're planning to go full criminal with me?"

"Within reason. I wouldn't help you bury a body—that's Eddie's job, " Tommy tilted his head in mock consideration. "But I might provide the shovels. And refreshments."

Buck's laugh burst out before he could stop it at the ridiculousness of the conversation.

"Taking your boyfriend duties very seriously, babe," Buck teased again, resting his head against Tommy's shoulder.

"Damn right." Tommy replied, his voice warm and full of affection.

It was as if the coldness was never there in the first place.

======

They eventually found themselves back between the sheets in Tommy's bed. As comfortable as the couch had been for lounging, it didn't take long for the stiffness in their backs to make them seek out the comfort of the bed.

"Eddie said he can bring your car and and phone tomorrow afternoon," Tommy informed as he typed out a message on his phone. "Not that's it's invitation for you to drive."

"Mhm," Buck agreed, half-listening, his focus entirely elsewhere. He was propped up on his elbows, eyes trailing over Tommy's chest with a kind of lazy fascination. Tommy had forgone his shirt, and in doing so had unintentionally pulled all of Buck's attention to the bare skin in front of him.

Tommy glanced down at him with an amused smile, though he didn't stop typing. "Are you listening at all?"

"Busy," was all that Buck muttered in response, as he leaned down and began placing light, deliberate kisses on Tommy's chest.

Tommy's fingers paused over the screen for a brief second, his breath catching slightly, but he didn't give in. He continued typing, refusing to let Buck's ministrations fully distract him.

Buck trailed his lips upward from his chest, slowly working his way toward Tommy's neck, in particular the spots that he knew were sensitive. The kisses grew more playful, more teasing, as he nibbled lightly at the skin near his collarbone, testing the waters.

It had been entirely too long since they were able to fuck around. Can anyone blame him for trying?

"Evan," Tommy half-warned, his voice dipping, though there was a hint of amusement there. "Don't start something you can't finish."

"Oh, I can finish alright," Buck grinned placing a soft kiss just below Tommy's ear, knowing exactly how to toe the line. Just to drive the point home, he pressed his hips against the side of Tommy's thigh, making sure Tommy felt the unmistakable tent in his boxers.

Tommy's breath faltered slightly, as he gave up on the phone entirely, tossing it aside to focus on Buck. His hand slid around Buck's waist, pulling him closer. "No strenuous physical activity remember?"

Buck smirked, his lips hovering near Tommy's ear.

"We don't have to do anything strenuous ,” he teased, placing another deliberate kiss against the sensitive skin of Tommy's neck.

"It's nothing but strenuous with you," Tommy let out a soft groan. "But I am serious. You need to be resting."

"I have been resting. All day," Buck pointed out, his voice carrying a teasing edge as he shifted closer. With one smooth movement, he swung his leg over Tommy's hips, planting himself firmly in his lap. His hand cupped Tommy's cheek, his thumb brushing lightly against the stubble as he leaned in, closing the distance between them.

Before Tommy could protest further, Buck pressed his lips to Tommy's in a slow, deliberate kiss. The kiss was slow at first, his tongue tracing against Tommy's lips, deepening the kiss with a hunger that had been building all day. Tommy's hands slid down Buck's sides, finding their way to the swell of Buck's ass. He gave a light squeeze, pulling him down and grinding their hips together with a firm press. The sudden friction drew a deep moan from Buck, his breath hitching as his body responded instantly to the sensation.

Buck's hips bucked forward, pressing harder against Tommy, chasing the delicious friction that appeared. A wave of pleasure surged through him as he felt Tommy's hard outline pressing back against him. Tommy bit down on Buck's bottom lip, tugging lightly, drawing a sharp breath from Buck.

But then, Tommy reluctantly released Buck's lip with a gentle bite, pulling away just enough to speak, his breath still ragged.

"That," Tommy murmured, his voice rough and low, "is your non-strenuous activity for the day."

Buck groaned, not satisfied in the slightest. He immediately tried to close the distance between them again, his lips chasing after Tommy's, but Tommy held him in place.

"That's nowhere near enough," Buck muttered as he pressed his hips down again, seeking more contact.

Tommy chuckled, his grip moving from Buck's ass to his waist as he held him in place, preventing him from pushing any further. "Down, boy."

Buck, refusing to back down just yet, gave Tommy the biggest pout he could muster. This was actual torture.

"You're cruel," Buck muttered, his hands resting on Tommy's chest, fingers twitching with the urge to pull him closer.

Tommy leaned in, his lips brushing against Buck's ear, his voice a teasing whisper. "Once your concussion's cleared up," he murmured, his breath hot against Buck's skin, "I'll fuck your brains out. How does that sound?"

That caught Buck's attention immediately. He froze for a moment, tilting his head slightly as the words sank in, his brain slowly processing what Tommy had just said. They always got handsy whenever they had time- whether it ended in a quick blowjob or those longer, drawn-out moments where Buck was fucking him into the mattress.

Not that Buck hadn't thought about it before, or even hesitated about the idea. Hell, there were numerous nights when just imagining it got him off more times than he could count, when Tommy wasn't around. Buck had more than a few fantasies of Tommy, taking him apart in ways he hadn't quite experienced yet.

But Tommy had never brought it up, and Buck hadn't been sure how to ask. They had a good thing going, and Buck didn't want to push it in case Tommy wasn't into it.

A soft, almost shy, "You want to fuck me?" slipped out before he could stop it.

Tommy paused, his teasing grin fading just slightly as he met Buck's eyes. His expression shifted, something softer and more tender replacing the playful edge. His hand slid up to cup Buck's cheek, his thumb brushing gently across his skin.

"If that's something you want. Or other way around," He answered quietly, his voice still low but more serious now, more intimate. "There's absolutely no pressure. Or wrong answer."

Buck blinked, feeling a wave of emotions wash over him. He leaned into Tommy's hand, letting out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "I'd like that," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "I've thought about it. Before."

Tommy's thumb continued its soothing stroke across Buck's cheek, his lips curling into a gentle, knowing smile. "See," The teasing edge returning to his voice, "now you've got something to look forward to. So be good and listen to the doctor's orders."

Buck couldn't help the small chuckle that escaped him.

"Fine, fine," he muttered, rolling his eyes but unable to hide the smile tugging at his lips.

Tommy's smile widened as he leaned in, pressing a light kiss to Buck's lips. "That's my boy," he whispered against his mouth.

Buck's heart skipped a beat and and with a playful groan, he lightly swatted at Tommy's chest.

"You're not helping," he muttered, though there was no real bite in his word.

"I know."

Buck shifted, settling more comfortably against Tommy, his head resting against Tommy's shoulder as he let out a content sigh. Tommy's arm slipped around Buck's waist, pulling him closer as he adjusted the covers, tucking them around both of them.

For a few moments, they stayed like that.

"Hey, Tommy?" Buck's voice came out softly, a little hesitant, as if he wasn't sure he wanted to break the stillness.

"Hm?"

"Thanks… for putting up with me today," Buck said, his voice barely above a whisper. "And for, you know, not making a big deal out of… that."

There was a brief pause, and Buck felt Tommy's arm tighten around his waist, pulling him even closer.

"Evan, you ridiculous man," Tommy murmured, and if his voice came out a little more choked up, Buck didn't mention it. "Tere's absolutely nothing to thank me for."

#buck x tommy #tevan #tevan fic #tevan fanfiction #bucktommy #tommy kinard #evan buckley #ao3 #fanfic #fanfiction

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cressthebest · 9 months ago

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Crimson Rivers thoughts pt. 32

chapter 51:

1. remus misses sirius and honestly they can make a person feel so fucking single, jesus christ

2. i like how remus is like “reg is james’…. boyfreind????? fiancé????? it would feel too disrespectful to ask atp”

3. “You can love Regulus, or anyone, so much you break the fucking scale, but…some people just don't know how to love themselves, and they have to learn that.” FUCKING PREACH REMUS

4. god, james is talking about how regulus thinks he doesn’t know how to love, when in reality, he loves so hard that he’s willing to die. and AHHHHH

5. 🧍🏻evan jumpscare

6. remus and james friendship >>>>>>>>>>>>

7. petition to reunite lily and remus

8. “Without a word of warning, [Pandora] brings Remus' hand to her mouth to press a quick, gentle kiss to the back of his fingers, then does the same thing to James. Remus feels his ears go hot, because he knows what that means, a Hallow gesture for deep admiration. No ones ever done that to him before, so he's a bit flustered by it, admittedly”

AWWWWW

9. “James, in love with a death eater. Who would have thought?” reading this line feels like such a jump scare. i’m the image of one of those really scared cats where their hair and tail is spiky

10. i’m honestly hoping that everyone can just make it to lily’s rescue. like plsss nobody else die. i love you all

11. “Sirius is currently complaining about the fact that he can't see the moon at night, tipping his head back and boldly requesting McGonagall personally to hang it in the sky just for him.” LMAOOO SIRIUS YOURE SO FUNNY AND I HOPE YOU KNOW THAT

12. “”He's my best friend," Sirius announces slowly, like Regulus is an idiot who can't understand basic concepts.

Regulus arches an eyebrow. "He's my fiancé."”

LMAOOO THIS IS SO FUNNY reg just took the words fiancé and fucking RAN with it

13. AWWW i love how excited sirius is for reg that he’s engaged to james!! he loves his brother so much!!

14. “Regulus huffs and rolls his eyes to the sky, literally begging for patience. "I said: would you marry me? He said: yes. Very simple. Asked, answered, engaged."

"You—" Sirius abruptly starts giggling, and Regulus stares at him blankly. "Oh, Regulus. Regulus. That's not—it's—okay, so you do realize that agreeing that you would get married is not the same as agreeing to get married, yeah?"

"No, I'm pretty sure they're the same," Regulus replies.”

i’m CACKLING

15. “Regulus bursts out. "I want you to keep being an idiot until you're old and ugly, and I want you to come to my fucking wedding!"” ☺️☺️ siblings

16. “"First of all, I would be old and beautiful," Sirius states firmly, holding up a finger. "I am going to be sexy until the day I die, even if I could live until a hundred. Second of all, I will be at the wedding. In spirit. Have it at night under my star. Or just—I don't know, slap a picture of me on a chair and—"”

😭😭😭 he knows he’s gonna be a hot old man. me also like, he’s so funny plss i love him

17. “Did [James] know he was engaged prior to Regulus announcing it when he sent the bagel? No. Is he going to protest it? Also no.” 😭😭

18. 😦😦 they were just talking about weddings and now reg is probably about to drown via crimson river. FUCK THIS

19. “People are born to live, and destined to die. Regulus doesn't care about destiny.” godDAMN

20. sirius helped him climb out with rope. they’re safe. it’s all good. i KNOW he has a pov but i was still so worried for him

21. 😧 my dear. flipping off the sky will NOT help you survive longer. they will just try to kill you more painfully.

22. 😭😭 not zar saying this was a lighter chapter cause he’s comparing it to the previous one. babes. reg’s worst nightmare just occurred again 😭😭

#marauders #regulus black #james potter #jegulus #sirius black #remus lupin #crimson rivers

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ssinnerplazahotel · 6 months ago

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╭──────────.★..─╮

*Chapter Ten*

╰─..★.──────────╯

WC: 8k

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

Graceland hadn’t changed—not upon first glance anyway. There were several unfamiliar faces but amongst the bunch there was Dawn and Cynthia. No longer serving at the pleasure of The Presley’s but there to welcome you back to town after your brief MIA stint.

You hugged Dawn enthusiastically. She was thrilled to see you and Joel—you had talked several times but nothing compared to seeing her in person.

“How’d this happen?” She asked, referring to you and Joel as you sat next to her at the dining table.

“It just happened.”

“I followed her around until she agreed to marry me. She refuses to tell anybody that story.”

“Well look what the cat done dragged in.” Sonny appeared suddenly—Jerry and Red trailing along. “Just as ugly as the day he left.”

Joel stood to greet them before re-introducing you. “My lady.”

“My lady, I hate to steal your gentleman, but we have unfinished business to attend,” Red said, throwing an arm over Joel’s shoulder.

He started to say he couldn’t but you reassured him that it was fine.

“I’ll come check on you, I promise,” He said as they dragged him away.

You sighed after he was gone. “They’ve been up all night. I don’t know how they manage.”

“They manage.” Dawn chuckled. “So, how have things been? How’s Atlanta?”

“Busy,” You responded.

Dawn hummed, glancing past you for a moment before speaking again in a lower voice. “Why’d you come back?”

“Elvis invited us.”

“Things seem to be going well, you and Joel seem happy.”

“We are happy.”

“You don’t think being back here will stir things up? I mean knowing what we all know…”

You knew exactly what Dawn was saying. You hated that she was choosing to be the voice of reason instead of being happy to see you.

“Joel begged me to come, I didn’t want to. I thought you’d be happy to see me.”

“I am. But I don't want Joel to get hurt.”

“What about me?”

Cynthia appeared again, this time with Andrea. You froze for a moment but recovered quickly and forced a smile.

“Well well well." She grinned—she was as radiant as the last time you saw her. "Look who finally decided to show her face in these parts again."

"Andrea.” You stood to hug her.

"Mhm," She hummed, hugging you back. "I don’t appreciate you skipping town and never calling me again. You get too busy in the city and forget all about us?”

“No, I just…I was going through a lot,” You said. “I’m sorry.”

“I might be able to forgive you.” She took a seat at the dining table. “What’s this I hear about you marrying a white man? What’s the point if you’re only gonna be married in 19 states?”

“Drea,” Cynthia complained.

“Joel from Hawaii, right?”

“You remember him?” You asked.

“Yeah, he’s cute.” She took your hand and examined your ring. “Did you guys run away together or something?”

“No,” You laughed. “We ran into each at a restaurant.”

“Wow. If you bothered to call me at all I’d know these things.”

You started to apologize again but you were interrupted by Elvis’ voice as he approached the table.

“How are my girls doin?” He asked, walking past you to Dawn. He kissed her cheek and then Cynthia’s before leaning on the back of an empty chair. “Andrea.”

“Elvis,” She said—looking off with a bored expression.

“It’s been a long time,” He said, he seemed to enjoy the fact that she despised him.

“Sorry I didn’t come sooner,” She started. “I was waiting for a good hair day.”

He laughed shortly before his eyes found yours. You averted your eyes. He spoke again, addressing the table. “If y’all need anything you can let Nancy know, she don’t mind. And don’t let the guys bother you, they’re outta their minds.”

Cynthia and Dawn laughed, agreeing that they were indeed crazy. When he finally walked away his hand rested on your shoulder as he passed, sending a jolt down your spine. When you looked up Dawn’s eyes were on you—so were Cynthia’s. You felt like a spectacle.

“Somebody outta take him down a notch,” Andrea said with an annoyed eye roll.

“What’s he ever done to you?” Cynthia laughed. “Keep on blocking your blessings like that.”

“Oh, mama.”

“Don’t ‘oh mama’ me.”

You smiled as they bickered—they hadn’t changed.

Andrea snagged you from the table and the two of you walked around outside. You spent most of the afternoon catching up before she had to eventually take Cynthia home.

“I wish you could stay,” You said, hugging her. “They’ll probably be out all night.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Andrea said. “But I have an appointment tomorrow morning. Divorce court starts early.”

“I’m so sorry, Drea.”

“It’s for the best. We didn’t want to wait until we hated each other to get it over with.”

“I’m glad you’re in a good place about it.”

“Anyway, I have some errands to run.”

“I understand.” You smiled. “I promise I’ll call. Even if it’s every once in a while.”

“You better,” She said. “I mean it. I want to know what’s going on with you. And don’t forget to send me an invite to the wedding.”

Dawn left with Cynthia and Andrea. She didn’t bring up your brief conversation from earlier but you could tell by her expression that she still felt the same. She had no faith in you. You figured if you could go on avoiding him like you had been, the weekend would go by seamlessly.

You guys were put in the spare room upstairs—your old room. It felt like some kind of inside joke when Jerry helped Joel carry your things up.

“Where are you going?”

“Nowhere, just downstairs.”

You forced a smiled in an attempt to hide your disappointment. “You’re gonna be out late, then?”

“No, probably not.” You wondered why he lied. “What?”

You noticed that you’d let your smile drop a bit. “Nothing.”

Joel gave you a look and stepped forward to wrap his arms around your waist. “Let me have it.”

“It’s just that…I’ll hardly see you this weekend and we’re going straight to Virginia afterwards so you’ll be wrapped up with work~”

“Oh, about that,” He started suddenly. “I talked to Bibby and he needs me to head down earlier than I expected.”

“Really?”

“I tried to get out of it, but you know how he is. He said he would let me leave early if I came ahead of time so I’m gonna head down in the morning and get it out the way before the weekend’s over.”

“When are we leaving?”

“I was gonna go tonight and meet you back here Saturday. I figured you could go spend some time with Dawn, she seemed happy when I told her you’d be over tomorrow.”

“You aren’t going to ask me how I feel about any of this?”

“I thought you’d be happy.”

All you wanted was to tell him to call everything off and take you home—but you didn’t want to ruin his time. You could get through the rest of the night, then you’d be able to escape to Dawn’s house.

“Hello?”

“Birdie?”

You froze when you heard his voice coming through the receiver. Your first instinct was to slam the phone back on the hook. You stared at it until it rang again, startling you when it did. You hesitated before picking it up again.

“Joel’s not here,” You said, moving to hang the phone up again.

“Don’t hang up,” Elvis said quickly.

“He already left.”

“I-I didn’t call to talk to Joel, honey, I called to talk to you.”

“You can’t…” You closed your eyes for a second and sighed. “I shouldn’t be talking to you while he’s not here.”

“Should I call when he gets back?”

“No.”

You heard him laugh on the other line, prompting you to roll your eyes. “You shouldn’t call at all. There’s no reason for you to talk to me.”

“Oh, well, I beg to differ.” He chuckled. “I think we have a lot to talk about, actually.”

“We don’t. I’m engaged.”

“I’m not trying to come between you and Joel.”

“Then what do you want?”

“You.”

You shook your head, falling silent as you tried to quiet the storm you had brewing inside.

“I want to talk to you,” He continued. “Is that alright?”

“No, it’s not.”

“I think you want to talk to me too, birdie.” His voice dropped and was suddenly drained of any humor. “It’s been a long time.”

“It hasn’t been long enough,” You said. “I don’t want to talk to you. I never want to see you again, Elvis. If you can’t understand that~”

“I do understand.”

“Then why won’t you leave me alone?” You asked, frustrated tears threatening to form in your eyes. “I’m happy. I love Joel and I love the life we’re building together.”

“Who are you trying to convince?” He interrupted. “I never said you didn’t.”

“You’re disrupting everything.”

“That’s not what I’m trying to do.”

You laid back against your pillow with the phone to your ear. “Just tell me what you want.”

“I want to see you.”

“No.”

Silence settled between the two of you for a moment before he spoke again.

“You don’t have to,” He said. “I want you to, that’s all.”

“I can’t,” You whispered.

“Why?”

“Joel…”

He hummed on the other line, you couldn’t decipher his tone. “Well…I-If you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

“I’m not going to.”

“You don’t have to. I’m glad you came down this weekend anyway. Dawn really misses having you here.”

“Why are you trying to make me feel guilty?”

“I’m not, honey.”

There was another beat of silence before the line went dead.

You held the receiver to your ear even after he was gone, listening to the mechanic hum of the dial tone. You checked the clock on the dresser.

Joel would be halfway to his conference by now. He’d get to his hotel and call you by eight like he promised. He’d ask you what you were doing and you’d reassure him you were okay—even though there was nothing he could do if you weren’t. Then he’d talk to you for over an hour, hoping that the lengthy phone call would appease you while he was away. He’d promise to call every chance he got—he always did—before ending the call saying: “I love you, I’ll be thinking of your sweet voice all night.”

To which you would laugh and respond: “I love you too.”

You’d blow him a kiss through the receiver and say goodnight. It was the same routine every time he went away. You knew in your mind that going to see Elvis was a bad idea. You knew the effect he’d have on you—he knew it too.

You hung up the phone and sat up to grab your case of cigarettes from the dresser. You opened the case only to find it empty.

You felt the weight of your decision before you’d even made it. A crushing weight in your chest that only nicotine could combat. It was overwhelmingly unlike you. Despite the guilt already consuming you, you knew your mind was made up before you could talk yourself out of it. There were too many feelings swirling around inside of you, old and new.

You had hoped that, maybe, you could put that part of yourself to rest once and for all by going to see him that night.

You fidgeted anxiously, smoothing down the skirt of your dress as you waited in the deserted hallway. You knocked but grew anxious after waiting a minute or two and raised your hand to knock again. You hesitated before knocking in the same gentle pattern that you had used so many years ago. The door opened almost immediately and you were met with Elvis’ familiar eyes.

“Birdie,” He muttered with what looked like a genuinely shocked expression.

“E,” You said back. Your heart hammered rapidly against your ribcage as you stared back at him. “You weren’t going to leave me standing in the hallway were you?”

“I-I didn’t know it was you.” He chuckled, still shocked by your presence. “Come in.”

You stepped inside the room and watched him close the door. It was silent aside from the tv blaring loudly. The room was dim, lived in but tidy—just like you remembered.

“I didn’t think you’d show.” He walked past you to turn the tv off.

You stood still, fidgeting with the skirt of your dress. For a moment you felt disconnected from yourself and reality. When you looked back at the door you wanted to leave. You shouldn’t have been there.

“Don’t just stand there.”

You met Elvis’ eyes, shaking your head as you tried to process your emotions.

He met you where you stood and slipped his hand into yours. “I wanna talk to you, honey. That’s all.”

He led you over to the bed and kept a decent amount of space between you as you sat down.

“You’re quiet,” He said, shifting to face you. “That’s one thing you never were.”

“You called me here.” You pointed out. “You wanted to talk. So talk.”

“How can I? You’re ice cold.” He smiled as he spoke. “How d’you like Atlanta?”

“It’s alright. We like it.”

“You and Joel?”

“Yes.”

Elvis nodded, his expression growing amused.

“What?” You asked, instantly annoyed.

“Nothing, nothing. You seem different,” He said it as if he knew something you didn’t. He always made you feel like he understood you better than you understood yourself.

“I am different.”

“I can tell.” He looked away. Was he upset by the change he saw in you?

“Tell me what it is you needed to tell me.” You waited for him to respond. “E?”

His smile had faded and his expression was thoughtful now. “I should’ve gone after you.”

You remembered standing in the hall waiting for him the night you left. You remembered the inkling of fragile hope inside of you fizzling into nothing the longer you stood there—waiting for him.

“I shouldn’t have let you go.”

“It wouldn’t have changed anything.”

“If I had gone after you, you wouldn’t have stayed?”

“You know I would’ve stayed. I loved you.”

“I loved you too.”

You scoffed lowly, turning your head.

“What was that?” He asked.

“What was what?” You responded.

“That sound you made. You don’t believe me?”

“No, Elvis. I never believed you when you said that.”

“It’s the truth.”

“I think you want it to be the truth. But really you only ever said it to make me happy. Not because you meant it.”

“Why can’t you accept the fact that I cared about you?” He asked, narrowing his eyes. “I still care about you.”

“I don’t believe that,” You said. “I think you got what you wanted from me while we were together and that was it.”

“That’s what you want to think, birdie.” He looked upset but he didn’t sound angry. “You tell yourself that because you want to hate me. Because it’s the only thing that makes sense to you~”

“Don’t tell me what I want to think,” You said. “You used me, you know you did.”

“I never used you. I came to you because…” He fell silent, choosing his words carefully.

“Just come out and say it,” You insisted.

“You made me feel good. When I was with you, it was just us. Me and you. No acts, no games. You didn’t expect anything from me, and I didn’t have to worry about you taking advantage. When I talked to you, it felt like you actually gave a shit and I needed that. So if you call that using you, then hell, I guess I fucking used you. That doesn’t change the fact that you were important to me.”

You looked up as you warded off tears. You didn’t want to cry, you’d cried too many nights over him.

“You can hate me.” You tried to pull your hand away but he grabbed it anyway. “You can blame me for everything that went wrong, I don’t care. But don’t tell me I never loved you.”

“Don’t~” You started when he took your face between his hands, trying to avoid his touch.

“I’ve thought about you everyday since you left.” His eyes were intense—desperate and all too familiar. “I ask Dawn about you every time I talk to her~”

“Elvis~”

“You’re always on my mind, birdie. Always.”

Tears welled in your eyes despite your best efforts. You stared into Elvis’ sapphire eyes and shivered with nostalgia.

“There’s no future for us,” You whispered. “It’s not our story, E. You know that.”

“I’m not asking for the future,” He responded. “I’m asking for tonight. One more night.”

He closed the space between you in a tender kiss and the taste of his lips brought on a flood of memories. Memories that flashed in short, sweet successions.

Memories of long nights of laughter and love making. Memories of lust and sadness, passion and rage. You felt his arms around you when he held you the night your mother died. You felt the golden chain resting weightlessly against your collarbone as he secured it around your neck. You felt his lips against your skin as he kissed every inch of your body, praising your very existence. You felt the sparks of being in love for the first time, and the excitement that came with the feeling.

You pulled away from the kiss, alarmed at the sudden influx of emotions. You stood and walked away, rushing to the door in a desperate attempt to escape the version of yourself that you supposedly weren’t anymore.

“Birdie,” Elvis called after you, standing to stop you. “Baby, please, don’t~”

“I have to go.” The door was pushed shut before you could open it more than an inch.

“Don’t leave,” He said as he held it shut. “Please…”

You looked up at him with tears in your eyes. “I love him. He makes me happy, Elvis, he treats me well. He’s a good person, a-and…god, he adores you~”

“We’re not talkin about him.” He put his other hand against the door, caging you between his arms. “This has nothing to do with him.”

“I’m going to be his wife,” You argued.

“You aren’t tonight,” Elvis said. “Tonight we can…we can be who we were. We can feel the things we felt. And tomorrow, we’ll go back to being who we are.”

“Who are we?”

“Right now, we’re who we were.”

“Who were we?”

“We were in love. Weren’t we?”

Elvis slipped his arms around your waist, pulling you against him. You met his eyes and, for a moment, there was nothing. You looked at him and you felt like no time had passed. Like it hadn't been nearly a year between the time you saw him last and now. Your heart hammered wantonly against your rib cage and your body begged for him. There was a rush of excitement coursing through you that you hadn’t experienced since the day you left Memphis. It was exhilarating and it made you feel weightless.

“Why are you doing this to me?” You whispered.

“I need to feel the way you make me feel,” He confessed. “Just tell me you love me. You don’t have to mean it.”

“I love you…you know I mean it. But I can’t do this.”

“I think you need this as much as I do, you’re just afraid to let go.” His voice was low and tempting. “Don’t fight it, birdie.”

He hesitated before he kissed you again, his lips moving slowly against yours as you wrapped your arms around his neck. Nothing else mattered as he lifted you and carried you to bed.

All you wanted was to be close to him, to feel the desperation behind his touch. You knew you’d hate yourself for it, but you gave in to him completely—unbridled and unrestrained.

You undressed in a hurry, you couldn’t tell if it was an eagerness to be close to him or something else. You straddled him, wearing only your underwear as his hands roamed your body. His touch was familiar, and his lips tasted of nostalgia. You broke the kiss and gazed down at him. You wanted to know what he was thinking. You wanted to know if he was feeling everything you were feeling.

You felt like crying, suddenly overwhelmed. Despite him being right in front of you, you needed to know you weren’t alone.

“It’s okay,” He whispered when he noticed your tearsq. “I got you.”

He kissed you more gently than he did before, but you didn’t want him to. You didn’t want him to be gentle.

He kissed your neck, continuing to trail kisses down your chest and stomach before slipping his fingers under the thin band of your underwear. You breathed shallowly—stripped of your final piece of dignity. He ran a cold finger through your arousal and left a kiss between your legs. You tensed as you anticipated his touch. He wrapped both arms around your thighs and soon you were tensing with pleasure. Once upon a time he’d have you falling apart on his tongue with very little effort and in no time at all. You weren’t that girl anymore—you needed more. You let him have his fun before you rushing him along.

“Easy,” He complained, trying to slow you down.

“Do it now,” You persisted, ignoring his expression as you sat up and took the condom from his hand. If he was going to protest he stopped short when you pushed him back and straddled him, looking down at him beneath you. You leaned forward to kiss him but pulled away after a moment to tear the condom open. He swore under his breath, his hips canting at the stimulation as you rolled it on. You wasted no time letting him enter you.

“Goddamnit, birdie~”

“Don’t talk.”

He tried to meet your eyes but you refused. This wasn’t about him, it was about fulfilling something within yourself—you just didn’t know what it was.

He forced you still, lifting his hips to thrust slowly inside of you. You cried as the pleasure grew more intense. You felt yourself surrendering what little control you had of the situation—you didn’t want to. But the more that knot in the pit of your stomach tightened the less grounded you became.

“Slow,” He instructed in a whisper, freeing you to move on your own. You followed his instructions, meeting his deep thrust until you were trembling. Your fingers twitched around his neck and he nodded—you gave in and tightened your grip just enough.

He encouraged you to continue, his voice straining slightly as he met your thrusts.

You admitted defeat and leaned forward until your chest was pressed against his—letting him take control. He hugged you close, leaving you powerless as he thrusted deeply. He watched your expression the whole time, watching you fall apart.

It was all too much—his touch, his smell, the way his eyes bore so deeply into your soul that you felt connect by something greater than yourself.

It was an intense disaster that left you feeling breathless and completely spent.

You stared at the ceiling afterward, neither of you saying a word. The heat of the moment was gone and you were left with the cold, dreadful weight of reality.

“Don’t get lost, birdie,” Elvis said after a while. You turned your head to find his eyes on yours.

You shifted onto your side, facing him. “I don’t know why you call me that.”

“Birdie?”

“Yes.”

He smiled softly, reaching out and stroking your cheek. “Because you’re delicate, like a baby bird.”

“You think I’m weak.”

“No. I think you’re sensitive and emotional. But I don’t think you’re weak.”

“Sensitive and emotional,” You repeated incredulously, a smile forming on your face.

“It’s not a bad thing,” Elvis chuckled. “It’s what I love about you.”

Your smile faltered. “Don’t say that.”

“It’s the truth~”

“Please don’t say that.”

You sighed, closing your eyes as guilt started to form in your gut. You shouldn’t have been there, you shouldn’t have let things go as far as they did. But it was too late. The act had already been done and you would have to face the consequences.

You sat up, holding the duvet over yourself as you gathered your discarded clothes. “U-Uhm, can I use the bathroom?”

Elvis silently nodded in the direction of the bathroom.

You stood and scurried inside before closing and locking the door. You sighed, leaning back against the door. You tried not to let your mind wonder as you forced yourself to clean up and get dressed. When you left the bathroom you found Elvis dressed in a robe with his arms crossed.

“I want you to stay here.” You couldn’t make out his tone.

“I can’t.” You sat down on the end of the bed to put your shoes on.

“Why not?” He continued when you didn’t answer. “Running off won’t fix anything. Damage is done, you might as well stay.”

“I’m not running.”

“Yes you are.”

You scoffed and stood. “Don’t start, E.”

“I’m not starting anything.” He kept his arms crossed as he walked towards you. “I’m telling you like it is.”

“What do you want me to do, spend the night?”

“Yes.”

“Why? You got what you wanted, didn’t you?”

“Did you? What the hell were you expecting?” He asked, narrowing his eyes and stopping in front of you. “You’re a hypocrite.”

You looked up at him, your gaze unwavering. “I’m here because you called me. I don’t know, I guess I hoped you’d be different. But you haven’t changed at all.”

“It has to be exhausting making your problems everyone else’s,” He said with a patronizing laugh. “It’s everyone’s fault but yours, all the time.”

“No, this was my fault. I expect too much from you, I always have.”

“You’re forcing a fight because you regret what just happened.”

You shook your head, looking away. Elvis stepped closer and took your chin in his hand.

“I know you, birdie,” He said. “I know what’s going on inside that pretty little head of yours.”

“Then you know why I have to leave.” Your voice sounded feeble to your own ears.

“I know why you want to leave.” He nodded. “But I promise that leaving won’t make that thing you’re feeling go away.”

You were silent.

“Stay with me t’night,” He insisted. “T’morrow you can pretend this never happened.”

“I’ll never be able to pretend this never happened.” You sighed sitting back down on the bed.

He sat down next to you and put his arm around you.

“I’ve tried so hard to forget you,” You continued. “I can’t count how many nights I’ve stayed awake crying over you. Even after all this time, I can’t help but…You shouldn’t have this hold on me. I’ve finally gotten to a place in my life where you aren’t the first thing I think about in the morning and you show up and take that all away~”

He cut you off. “You don’t think I’ve had sleepless nights? I’ve worried about you every night since you left. I didn’t know where you were, if you’d gotten hurt. I couldn’t sleep until Dawn told me you were safe. And even then, knowing you were okay didn’t make it hurt any less. I loved you.”

“I have a life now.”

“Okay, how’s that going for you?”

“You don’t get to judge me.”

“If you feel judged, that’s on you. You came here because there’s a part of you that isn’t happy. If you were, you wouldn’t’ve jeopardized what you have with~”

“I am happy,” You stressed. “I’ve learned to love someone other than you. I have, and I do~”

“But?” He waited for you to continue.

You sighed in frustration. “Do you have to make me feel insane all the time?”

“I’m just tryna get you to face the truth.”

“I know the truth.”

“Okay.”

You closed your eyes and suddenly you felt him kiss your cheek.

“Stay,” He whispered against your skin.

“He’ll call to check on me,” You stressed. “I can’t.”

“He won’t.” If his words were meant to comfort you they had the opposite effect. He reached down to remove your shoes. After they were off he proceeded to strip you of your dress as well, leaving you only in your underwear.

You shivered as the two of you moved to lay on top of the unmade bed. You laid with your back against his chest, his arms wrapped securely around you. You laid in silence until you inevitably started to give in to your exhaustion. You fought to stay awake, to hold on to the moment for just a little while longer.

But soon, you fell asleep in Elvis’ arms��for the last time.

You woke the next morning to find a plain white envelope resting on the pillow beside your head. You lifted the envelope to read the name scribbled across the front.

Birdie.

You sat up slowly, searching the room with your eyes. You were alone. You opened the envelope to find a familiar necklace—holding two rings and a diamond-studded lark charm. You immediately folded the envelope shut and rushed to get dressed. You wanted to be out of the room in case he returned.

You needed to get out as fast as possible. You heard Elvis’ voice from the night before telling you that you couldn’t outrun the guilt you felt—but that didn’t stop you from trying. As you left the room, you left the envelope where it was. You didn’t want it, and leaving it made you feel better. When you walked out of the room you ran into Jerry, who had seemingly been waiting outside the door.

“Oh, hey,” He said, pushing off of the wall.

“J-Jerry,” You stammered, embarrassed.

“He asked me to make sure you made it back.” He interrupted.

“Oh…it’s just right there~”

“I gave him my word.” He interrupted again.

You nodded awkwardly. “Okay then.”

Jerry nodded his head in return. “After you.”

You turned and started walking back to your room. There was an awkward silence as he watched you cross the hall.

“Thanks,” You said when you got there.

“I’ll be around when you leave for Dawn’s. Just give me a shout when you go.” He turned to walk away without another word.

“J-Jerry,” You said before he left. “I’m sorry~”

“Don’t~”

“I know Joel’s your cousin a-and you shouldn’t have to be dragged into this~”

“Don’t apologize,” He said. “Not to me anyway.”

“I’m going to tell him.”

“You should.”

You shifted awkwardly. “I-I don’t want you to think~”

“I don’t think anything,” He said. “It’s a shame, of course but Joel…he’s just a kid.”

You were confused by his response. “Is that what you think?”

He shifted. “I wouldn’t have told E where he worked if I didn’t think he’d get over losing you.”

“What’s that mean? Was this some kind of set up?”

“No…this was always gonna happen.”

You were in shock as he walked away, he seemed completely unapologetic about his role in this entire situation. You felt like an idiot.

You cut the trip short for yourself and called Dawn to let her know. She was sad for you go and made you promise to call. You drove home in silence, the sound of your engine ticking the only thing filling the empty space. You heard Joel’s voice in the back of your mind scolding you for not driving the car enough and causing the tick. He’d pretend to be angry for a moment, then he’d smile and tell you he’d fix it. But only if you promised to “reward his generosity”.

Tears formed in your eyes but you forced them away. You tried to hold them in but ultimately failed when you walked into your house.

You were officially back to reality.

Tears blurred your vision as you showered, cleansing yourself of Elvis’ touch once and for all. You had a knot in the pit of your stomach, it hurt.

You crawled into bed and stayed there for the remainder of the day—well into the night. You didn’t move to eat or even to use the bathroom. You felt detached from yourself and everything else.

Seeing Elvis again, being with him…it made you realize that, maybe, everything you thought you outran had been with you all this time.

The ghost of him and your love had been haunting you since the day you left. It clung to you and showed itself in ways that went unnoticed. It showed itself in the way you loved Joel. It showed itself in the way you waited for your relationship to crash and burn—ignited by the fire you started, the fire you fed.

The ghost of your love for him showed itself in the way you second guess yourself. It showed itself in the way you never thought you knew what was best. Although you had grown to trust yourself more, there was still an infinitesimal part of you that you had every right not to trust. That part of you that was still infected.

You were haunted by him in everything you did. He saw that the moment he laid eyes on you again. He knew that if he called, you’d come.

A lifetime of observation could not aid you in explaining the things you’d do for Elvis Presley. He made you weak, being able to admit that didn’t make you hate it any less.

When the phone rang that night you let it go on ringing. You couldn’t force yourself out of bed in time to catch it anyway. You imagined it was Joel calling, shocked to hear that you’d left Memphis. You cried until you fell asleep. Startling awake from nightmares that you couldn’t remember the details of when you woke.

It was a miserable night filled with shame, regret, and fear.

“There you are.”

“You’re early.”

Joel smiled as you met him at the door, dropping his bags before engulfing you in a hug.

You laughed and returned the embrace. “I didn’t expect you until later. I would’ve gotten dressed.”

After spending the last day and a half lying in bed you had only just started getting ready..

“You look perfect.” Joel pulled away from the hug enough to look down at you. “I missed you.”

“You’re only saying that.” You adjusted his collar, avoiding his eyes. “Seems like Bibby kept you busy this weekend.”

“Not too busy to think of you.” He cupped your chin in his hand, tilting your head and kissing you.

You kissed him back, but something felt…off. You felt off.

“What’s wrong?” You hadn’t even noticed that he’d broken the kiss.

“Nothing.” You forced a smile. “I missed you too.”

You stood up on your toes and kissed him again before pulling away to grab one of his bags.

“Don’t worry, sugar, I’ll get it.”

“I got it.” You chuckled, picking up the smallest bag.

He grabbed his suitcase, watching you with an amused expression. “Don’t hurt yourself, now.”

You laughed, walking ahead of him into the bedroom. Before you could take the bag to the closet Joel was already wrapping his arm around your waist. He pulled you towards the bed, making you drop the carryall in the process.

You complained as he plopped down on the bed with you in his arms, your robe nearly coming undone. “Don’t do that.”

“Something I ain’t seen before under there?” He teased, laying on his side facing you.

“You surprised me, that’s all.”

“How was the trip back?”

“Okay.”

“I’m sorry I left.”

“You couldn’t help it.”

He propped himself up on his elbow. “What’d you get up to while I was gone?”

You hesitated for a moment. “…Nothing.”

His eyebrows drew together. “You didn’t make book club on Sunday?”

“No.”

“Did you go to dinner with Sinclair and Marc?”

“No.”

He looked disappointed. “Well…why not?”

You shrugged. “When I drove back the car was making that ticking sound again.”

“I don’t like when you’re alone while I’m gone.”

“I was fine, Jo, honestly.”

“I know, still I don’t like picturing you by yourself all weekend.” He sighed. “It makes me feel bad.”

“Don’t feel bad,” You said. “I can take care of myself.”

His eyes were focused past you, his lips pursed.

“Baby,” You said, making him meet your eyes. “I promise.”

“I worry about you.”

“I’m sorry.”

He shook his head, putting his arm over your waist. “It’s okay.”

“The car is ticking, though.” You reiterated.

“It’s your fault for not driving it,” He said, a trace of a smile on his face. “You’re killing the engine.”

You smiled without effort for a moment.

“If you ain’t gonna drive it, I might as well let it go to shit,” He said, making you laugh. “I’m serious. Or sell it, one.”

“I take it out as often as I can,” You said. “You’ll fix it for me, won’t you?”

“Only if I’m generously compensated for my labor.”

“How will I ever repay you?”

“I have a few ideas.”

“…At least wash the airport off first.”

Joel laughed, kissing your cheek before going to shower. “I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” You promised as he disappeared into the bathroom. Your smile faded slowly as that feeling returned, that guilty feeling. You had hoped it would go away when Joel got home. You’d hoped that if you tried, you could move on and forget the whole thing ever happened. But his presence seemed to have the opposite effect.

The feeling was growing more intense.

No matter how hard you tried to ignore it, it was still there. It made everything feel different, even as you made love that afternoon. If Joel noticed that something was off he didn’t say anything. He held you like he usually did and made you laugh as he told you about his trip. You couldn’t keep up as he jumped from story to story, your mind was too preoccupied by the secret driving a wedge between the two of you. As you listened to him, you wondered if he noticed.

“I told him I’d deal with it tomorrow.” You tuned back in to what he was saying. “I’m technically supposed to be off for three days after traveling jobs but he’s up a creek with this one.”

“You’re always there for him,” You said. “He’s lucky to have you.”

“I guess.”

“No, he really is.”

He laughed a little, kissing your bare shoulder. “I love you.”

You don’t deserve him.

You closed your eyes. “I love you too.”

“Let’s go out tonight,” He suggested.

“I was going to cook.”

“I want to take you out.”

“Do you think I’ll go insane if I don’t leave the house?” You asked, looking over your shoulder.

“No.” He smiled. “You should get out anyway.”

“I guess I’ll get ready.”

“Ten minutes.” He tightened his grip on you. “I don’t wanna let you go.”

“Five minutes.”

“Fifteen.”

“That’s not how negotiations work~”

“Fine, I guess twenty will just have to do.”

You laughed as he threw his leg over yours for good measure. “Is this why you’re Bibby’s top sales negotiator?”

“Yeah, I just hold folks down until they give in,” He said. “It’s working, isn’t it?”

“It’s working,” You chuckled, laying your head down. You’re a liar and a cheat. You don’t deserve him. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” He kissed your shoulder again. “I love love you.”

“Love love, huh?”

“Love love love, even.”

“That’s just overkill.”

He laughed. “There’s no such thing when it comes to you.”

You don’t deserve~

“I love love love you too.”

You had to tell him. You knew that was the only way to put an end to the guilt threatening to consume you.

You couldn’t eat, you couldn’t sleep, you were anxious all the time. Keeping a secret of that magnitude wasn’t an option—it was killing you.

Things had been going so well. Convention season was over, Joel was home more often and you were happy. As happy as you could manage to be. You tried to find a moment to break the news, but there was no such thing as a good time in this situation.

Joel had been working all morning when you decided to bite the bullet. You figured it would be the best since he didn’t have work for a couple days. Not that having time off would make it any easier on him. You were grasping for any reason to either put off or justify telling him. There was no right time or place.

You were pacing in the kitchen when he got home, a worried look on your face.

“Hey,” He said, meeting you.

“How was your day?”

“It was a day.” He sighed tiredly, kissing your cheek. “Bibby’s secretary—his cousin Marcy, you know her—she got something mixed up with the books. He doesn’t think they’ll break even unless we get a few more cars off the lot before the end of the month. He wants me to come back today and help him. He said he’d call but I think I’ll just go.”

You deflated before you could think not to.

“Is that okay?” Joel asked. “I don’t have to, I was just tryna help if I could~”

“N-No, it’s fine.”

“What’s wrong?”

You shook your head. “Nothing, it can wait.”

“Can it?” He asked. “You look upset.”

“I’m not.” You lied. “It’s fine.”

“Tell me.” You stepped back when he reached out for you. “Baby, what is it?”

“I’m sorry,” You said, leaning against the counter behind you. “I-I’ll tell you later.”

“I want you to tell me now.” He insisted. His expression grew more concerned when he saw the tears forming in your eyes.

“I’m sorry,” You repeated. “I’m so sorry, Joel.”

“Why are you crying?” He asked, stepping forward and putting his hands on your shoulders.

You met his worried eyes. “I-I…I had an affair.”

He didn’t hear you at first and he ducked his head when you looked away, trying to meet your eyes. “You what?”

“I had an affair,” You stated more clearly.

He looked confused when you looked up. “…With who?”

You swallowed harshly, you didn’t want to say it, but you forced it out. “E-Elvis~”

The phone rang, startling you. Joel was frozen for a moment before he pulled away from you to answer.

“H-Hello?” He turned his back to you. “Bibby, I…yeah, I-I know, I can be there if you just give me half an hour…Just~ yeah….yeah. For fuck’s sake, Bibby, okay.”

He slammed the phone back on the hook, standing there without moving.

“Joel~”

“Don’t…don’t say anything to me.” He walked away, towards the bedroom.

You followed him with a string of futile apologies leaving your lips. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me~”

“Elvis Presley.” He stopped suddenly and faced you. “You had an affair…with Elvis fucking Presley?”

“I can explain~”

“Who are you?” He looked angry, but hurt shone through his expression more clearly.

“It’s me, Joel.” You reached out for him but he avoided your touch. “I’m me.”

“Have I not done right by you?” He asked, stepping away from you. “Have I not done everything I could~”

“You have~”

“When?”

You fell silent, frozen. You felt like cowering under his gaze.

“When?” He demanded.

“When you were in Virginia with Bibby.”

“As soon as I left?”

“N-No~”

“Why?”

“I don’t know.”

“Don’t say you don’t know!” You startled in surprise at his sudden change of tone. “People don’t do this kinda shit for no reason.”

“I-I d-don’t know,” You stammered.

“Yeah, okay.” He walked away. “You don’t know? Alright, fine.”

Joel had never yelled at you in all the time that you’d known him. Even when you argued he’d never raise his voice.

You did this.

This was your fault.

You snapped out of your shock and followed him to the bedroom. You found him in the closet pulling his clothes off the rack by the hangers. “Please don’t leave.”

He scoffed, throwing the clothes onto the bed before dragging his suitcase out of the closet.

“Please,” You cried. “I’m s-sorry, I-I’ll~ I can explain.”

He zipped his clothes into the suitcase haphazardly. “I don’t want to hear anything from you. I don’t even want to see you right now.”

“It was a mistake. I regretted it as soon as it happened.”

“But it happened.” He stopped for a second. “It fucking happened.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not okay.” He lifted the suitcase off the bed.

“Don’t go,” You continued to plead as you followed him out of the room.

“I have to.” He stopped at the front door and looked at you. “I have to go because I told Bibby I’d be there, and when I make a commitment, I honor that commitment.”

“I know~”

“It doesn’t matter what you say,” He said, the anger behind his voice already fizzling out and turning into hurt. “I love you, I trusted you, and you…It’s always been him, hasn’t it? Since the day you left Memphis.”

“No~”

“You left because of him.” He sounded so sure. “This whole time, I’ve had this feeling—since we met in that restaurant. This feeling that you were hiding something~

“No~”

“~I couldn’t figure it out. I didn’t care, because I loved you. And I thought you loved me~”

“I do love you,” You insisted.

“But you love him too…don’t you?”

The tears you wanted to cry finally formed in your eyes. “I love you, Joel. I only want you.”

Joel nodded, balling his lips as tears threatened to form in his eyes. “I just don’t believe you.”

Your stomach dropped when he turned to leave. The thing you had feared the most was happening and it was your fault.

He was leaving you.

You spoke through a broken sob. “I-I know I messed up a-and it’s my fault. I hate myself for h-hurting you, Joel, I just~ I-I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

The room was silent for a moment aside from your sniffling. You felt Joel move towards you and you stepped away. Of course he’d comfort you, even now when you least deserved it. He took your wrists and pulled your hands from your face. You kept your head down as he took your face in his hands and thumbed away the tears.

Everything was caving in on you and you had no one to blame but yourself. Things were going so well. You were happy, you were in love, and you ruined it.

You ruin everything.

Joel shocked you by tilting your head back and kissing you. You gripped the front of his shirt, tasting your own tears on his lips.

He stopped suddenly and met your eyes—tear stained and full of shame and regret. He pulled away as if he’d come to his senses all of a sudden. Without so much as another, he turned around and picked up his abandoned suitcase—leaving you there alone and completely shattered.

#elvis presley #elvis smut #elvis x you #elvis imagine #austin butler #elvis fluff #elvis presely smut #black reader #elvis x black reader #the bikeriders #50s elvis #austin elvis imagine #austin!elvis x reader #60s elvis #interracial love #elvis #elvis x reader #elvis x y/n

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acotarfrustrations · 1 year ago

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An ongoing list of ACOWAR grievances I'm keeping track of while I read (because there's too many to make a post about all of them) pt. 2

I'm on chapter 15 now and feeling the urge to complain again so here we go

1) the writing is way too overdramaticized. Like every other paragraph is some remixed version of feyre going "I wondered whether it would be eggs or bacon for breakfast. But when I looked at Rhys I realized that he was giving me my own choice. My mate, my high lord. In our home. With our family. Every thing was always my choice" and its CONSTANT, LIKE OH MY GOD GIRL SHUT UP

2) every thing about Lucien's plotlineand the elain mating thing. I HATE this subplot with a PASSION

3) feyre immediately fucking rhys when she got back instead of going to see her sisters

4) feyre and rhysand acting like they've ben separated for forty centuries instead of a month

5) the contradictions about how the high lord thing works. Like it was established that its a government position given to you through basically fate and being chosen by the cauldron or whatever which is why siblings kill each other for a chance for the throne and yet they just went to a priestess and swore feyre in as high lady?? It makes her title not feel real like it's purely ceremonial. It doesn't even make sense that she would be able to be HL of the night court as she has no more ties to that court than she does any other court. Is it because she's mated to Rhys? I don't understand the HL lord at all, it just keeps changing

6) the fact that Feyre, Rhys, and Cassian tell Lucien about their tragic backstories and everything that's happened to feyre at the NC and he just immediately does a Feyre™️. Like he's suddenly "Oh yeah you had a horrible childhood and took feyre into your found family without letting her explore relationships outside of the IC, that totally makes up for all the evil shit THAT IVE SEEN YOU DO WITH MY OWN 2 EYES. wow i cant believe youre not evil even though you killed 50 winter court children and sexually assaulted your mate and mind raped her constantly to get her to like you"

7) the way they're treating Nesta. It has been a MONTH since she was stolen from her home, brought amongst a race that she is terrified of and THAT ENSLAVED HER PEOPLE, and was forcefully turned into ONE OF THEM and the IC is acting like she's being unreasonable for not wanting to talk to them or to mate with Cassian. WHY THE HELL WOULD SHE EVEN BE THINKING ABOUT CASSIAN RIGHT NOW?? WHY THE HELL AM I SUPPOSED TO FEEL BAD FOR HIM? Instead of him worrying about how his mate is doing regardless of his own comfort he's like WOE IS ME, SHE DOESNT WANT TO FUCK ME?????? GET OVER IT ASSHOLE?? WHY IS FEYRE EVEN LETTING CASSIAN COME NEAR HER AND ANTAGONIZE HER?? DOESNT SHE LOVE TO FLAUNT HER HL STATUS AROUND?? THIS IS THE TIME TO USE IT, PROTECT YOUR GODDAMN SISTER FROM HIM? ITS SO OBVIOUS THAT SHE DOESNT GIVE NEARLY AS MUCH OF A SHIT ABOUT NESTA AS SHE DOES ELAIN!!

8) the fact that sjm didn't keep cassian's wings shredded. Him learning to live with that would have been a badass character development but now sjm doesn't want me to have good things

9) the mating bond in general. I think it could be a potentially good plot device but no one ever employs it well and sjm is definitely the most egregious with it

10) the fact that the ic never gave consequences for their fucking actions. Feyre dies in acotar? Turn her into a fey and give her ALL of their powers. Stealing a precious artifact that they didn't even end up needing and getting a bounty on their head in the summer court and then getting that court invaded? That's fine because feyre is SOOO brave and says things that are common fucking sense which makes her SOOOO smart so we obviously need her as an ally so we'll just rescind the blood rubies. Getting the spring court sacked? That's fine we didn't like them anyway. Rhys and feyre's bond gets snapped? Well they didn't know about our super secret mating bond that is actually the only thing that gives our characters chemistry so we still like each other. Rhys causes irreparable damage to every court for 50 years and kills 50 kids? Well that's fine he was being held hostage and hey! We don't know he actually killed those kids 😡 Feyre, a 20 year old girl who's been fae for like 6 months and training for even less goes up against thousands of years old beings? She beats them effortlesslessly! Rhys gets sexually assaulted for 50 years! Well he planned all of it so it has no negative consequences on him. Cassian gets his wings shredded? Well he worked really hard and they're fixed now 🥰. Rhys FUCKING DIES?? Well that's no problem, tamlin can just resurrect him, nvm the fact that there's no reason why he WOULD. like no harrowing situation is ever interesting cause we all know sjm isn't actually going to do anything to the ic

11) "my mate" STOP SAYING IT PLS IM BEGGING

12) "males and females" STOP SAYING IT PLS IM BEGGING pt. 2

#anti acowar #anti sjm #anti acotar #anti rhysand #anti feysand #anti sarah j maas #anti ic #anti acomaf #anti inner circle

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user211201 · 7 months ago

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Gnarly Tides

--- Originally posted by ZacharyEverlust before 2018-08-22 ---

--- Note: Pokémon Gym Leader TF ---

We are back at the same location! Same place, same time, same method! Well slightly different one, a tweaked version of what will happen to the fellow victim from the previous story. Only this time, its from the OTHER soon to be-surfer's perspective. As such, the story starts off with his perspective. Seran, being called here by his friend, Baikoha, via text.

Dude you've gotta check this out!

I'm having a blast with Swimming! Coach wants you to tag along!

Bring your goggles along too man!

Obviously, knowing his friend, its totally odd that he would post a message like that. Baikoha didn't want to attend Sports Week much less enjoy those "swimming lessons". Not to mention he actually complained about it yesterday at his dorm...

Seran walked towards the open pool, letting his really long brown hair down as he gazed over the line of participants for this year's "Jockification Week", or so what people described. 'They turned guys and girls into jocks, full of school spirit and cocky bravado!' was apparently what some people described what happened to their friends...how farfetched, well, aside the fact that even his own friend posted that weird message back to him.

The invited-teen peered over for his friend for a few moments, unable to find him. Probably already in the pool by then, Seran assumed, scratching his growing beard down below his lip. The thin-lanky man has to be at the beach in about an hour from now, skipping out an hour's worth of sleep to originally bail with him so they could dodge sports week together, though his friend's apparent change of heart as shown in his message...it was weird, really weird.

Probably at this moment, Seran's mind wondered even more about those Jockification rumors he'd heard from the other newbies. "What if they were true?" Was the first stereotypical soon-to-be-victim thought anyone would have. He recalled the goggles he and his friend discussed yesterday, him being the lucky person that received a limited edition "Marlon & Brawly branded goggles." To his surprise, the other pair was inside the gift box that was laid in his doorstep this very morning!

To be honest, it looks awfully strange, with shiny plastic lenses and their sides being being labelled with the numbers 1-2-3-4-5. Coloured completely black with shiny orange lenses. He wanted to go and tell his friend about this too, though it'd be better just to surprise him. Right?- SPLASH!-Wow some douchebag splashed water on him---SHONE!--"WHA--?"

He sensed the sides of the goggles glowing, sending pulsating charges to the lenses as they glowed a bright orange, shining brightly as though its a conjoined process. Glowing and overwhelmings strongly on the inside of the lens, past the helpless victim's past through the corners of his brain, touching the commands and subjects that make a person-them.

"ARGH! My eyes--huh?" Like an enormous tidal wave that's about to wash over a helpless surfer, he felt like his body became paralyzed in a millisecond, as though he was no more in control. HANG TEN! Was the signal the flashed in his brain, the only thing he could focus on the inside whilst observing the pool's water dripping down from his skin--?

Brawler's Stance!

His thought shifted momentarily, the number 5 engraved on the side of the goggles faded away as this happened. His fists clenched, as his body brought itself to an iconic fighting position, one that's familiar in a game remake. With feet firmly rooted to the ground, squats strongly standing apart and fists brought close to his chest.

SOMEBODY HELP ME! He thought loudly to himself, unable to open his mouth aside forming a huge cocky-like smile that was unlike him, eye brows furrowed oddly , if anyone took notice of him, he would look like a mix of an odd statue and a young man looking for a fight. Although...he didn't fit the part of a fighter just yet, needing an appropriate body to support the current position he is in--

SPLASH!

"NOT AGAIN!" He shouted. The Second tide came in, as a swimming gave a powerful dive from the diving board. Drowning Seran's clothes and his chest from the inside even further. A Drenched white T-shirt and brown khaki shorts, with plain looking sandals. This certainly did not match the goggles he is current matching, and that is about to change as the number 4 faded away next.

PUMP IT UP!

WHOA! He watched his body rise up even higher with a dose of electrolytes, goggles converting pool water to salt water as it gave a dose full of a lifetime's worth of minerals to the body. Aging several years as his height went up with it, with even longer legs and arms, a body that's as tall as any other typical sportsman that can be seen in sight.

Bathed in an appropriate amount of UV rays from the sun, his body crusted into a perfect moderate-brownish Hawaiian tan, like its a result of time and dedication. With his body being at a prime at his early twenties, yet feeling really uncomfortable underneath the clothes he's currently wearing, like it wasn't his style, like he deserved something better--

WOW! The next thought came up, as he watched as his clothes physically re-materialize by themselves right before the goggles covering his very eyes-- RUBBER! Starting with the feet, as the base of the sandals dyed themselves a strong orange, and black rubber soaked itself over the top.

Escalating hugely, they grew larger than the size of his foot as they reached a decent L-size. Bottom becoming rubber like the top, with the strap too becoming part of the design and turning orange as well. Five circles appeared where the toes should be and two black rolled loops appeared at his ankles, though the whole new wet-shoes get-up barely fit him.

The same treatment can be said about the rest of the attire as it went up, clothes now barely fitting and staying on him due to the L-size of the clothes, only thanks to the tight-fitting quality of wet-attire were why they were able to still stick onto his thin bod.

With Khaki shorts morphing themselves blue with waterproof threads as they wrap loosely around his waist, sky blue boarder shorts only on due to the current "stance" he's made into. A plain generic T-shirt gaining originality as they rediscovered cool typical sports patterns sufficing from his chest and trailing from on shoulder to another.

Those patterns turned a familiar pure orange as the rest of the shirt turned into a sporty black. Bringing out a cool and manly side out of the wearer. The sportier shirt hugged tightly to his skin as they turned into a waterproof-skin tight fabric, seemingly rubberized. A loop suffices around the top of his shirt, below his neck and similar to the ones of his wet-shoes.

With that being said, the last changes formed at his fists as the surfer influence touched his hands. Black covering his fists as they turned into orange at the top, with the same loop down at his wrists. Forming Brawler-like slash Surfer wet gloves for those who enjoy diving into the ocean from time to time, and with the current status of his body, it seemed as they just enjoyed anything water sports related, especially surfing--

SPLASH!!!!

"DUDE! THIS IS NOT COOL BRAH---?!" The man complained, vocabulary "Oh man! I haven't even bulked up yet---!" He realized that, with it being the next stage as the number 3 faded too.

IT'S WORKOUT TIME!

His brain thought, feeling his fists clenching even harder as veins bulge toughly from his arms. Watching them firm up as they do their years of training hard, growing to a sizable size as those knuckles nicely fit the gloves like a proud brawler.

The power and energy moved up to his shoulders, expanding them wide and steady as a result of surfing for over a decade, body posture and balance maintaining his strong figure. With a hefty lean-muscular chest supporting his front with tanned pecs and chiseled abs showing his status as a gym instructor, and a gym leader.

Legs tanking out, with calves steadying and fitting the boarder shorts like he liked it. Butt rounding and firming up, jutting out simultaneously with his feet as they filled in their entire wet-shoes. His attire completely suiting his powerful physique, like he deserved it.

"Man! This is great and all!" The soon to be hundred percent Surfer man spoke. "This like totally caused a storm of astonishment to my system! Oh man! But like..."

SPLASHHHH!

"HAHA! Wow! Again with the waves dude!" With water entering his system, cleansing his throat and tonsils, refilling the surfer lingo that he ever most desires with an attractive, chill and a totally radical voice that didn't cared much about intelligence." Gnarly Voice man...AWESOME!"

HANG TEN DUDE!

"Wicked!" An overwhelming surge of confidence and resolve shone in his face. Teeth as white and strong as a Sharpedo's, a smile evolved to a fearless confident grin. Angular Jaw being a sticker to the personality that crashes tides and oceans with his surfboard.

"I LOVE this dude! Can't get enough of it!" Hair spiking at the back, maintaining themselves like an in-bred style that suits him. Blasted away with Sky Blue like his boarder shorts, totally radical as they held spiked in place, bangs free. Facial features chilling with the breeze blowing against his forehead, ears wide open, nostrils filled with the scent of the sea, black sharp eyebrows boldly representing his self-assurance, his power, and his passion for what he does.

"And it just gets better and BETTER!"

"SPLASHHHHHHHHHH!"

"WHOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!" Fully lost in the Ocean, the new man awoke. With the number 5 completely fading away, he understood the hang ten quality within him and embraced the tide. With outstretched arms voluntarily breaking past any gnarly paralysis, and a body standing tall and firm as water poured down on him.

His goggles glowed and allowing the sun rays reflecting of the pool's surface to bask him with all the thoughts that he needed. Goggles taking on their true form as they tinted themselves as pure orange shades, with black sides supporting his coolness.

"Yo! Brawly! Sup!" Marlon raised his hand. HI-FIVE "Hey Man! Totally drenched me over here! Haha!" He laughed.

Lifting up the shades, revealing two piercing light blue eyes that shredded killer waves. He understood who he is, and how couldn't he? Being the Former Gym Leader of Dewford City's Gym, churned in the rough waves while pumping in the gym and toughening up in a pitch-black cave.

Now the Captain of The University's Water Sports Group, and yet another carefree Surfer Jock who loves nothing more than being in the water, Brawly takes his stance.

With his buddy Marlon by his side, being the fierce competitors and the greatest of friends back when they met in orientation. Rooming up like the bros they are, and having being given their own special goggles together by the higher-ups as a reward for being one of the best pairs in their category. The Ocean. Though his was definitely cooler since it could transform back and forth between his trusty shades and goggles with a button at the back. How awesome is that?

With their knowledge of the ocean, surfing as well as a healthy match of Pokemon battles and tons of working out. With Marlon and Brawly taking the lead in The school's Swimming/Water Polo and Dynamic Surfers Teams respectively, The Captains of the University's Water Sports Group were unstoppable together.

"Dude! Race you to the top of the diving board." Marlon swam. "Oh yeah? Well I'm gonna wipe you down man!" Brawly jumped in and swam right after him.

The two of them made their way to the diving board.

"Hey Man! Watch this--I'm gonna make--!"

"A Bigger Splash Than The Sea!"

SPLASH!

"Dude, that's nothing. Don't forget, I'm--!"

"A Big Wave In Fighting!"

SPLASH!

#male tf #character tf #mental change #personality change #pokemon #dorm desire

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torialefay · 6 months ago

Note

https://youtube.com/shorts/T550Vy5XcPI?si=V0y9B6uaJ2kj91FE

Ok, grass platform, this "you like me more" and recently "I can't fix all your problems" AFTER all his teasing and roleplays on bubble is his character development, trying to fix what he created since his early twenties, results if therapy, OR next stage of his shit because i honestly already can't be aware where I'm delusional and where not

okay in the clip... this man getting cocky 😭😭😂😂😂 the "you like me more" is so moody anr bitchy i love it. he's fed up w everyone baiting him and throwing this shit on him 😂

this may seem out of pocket, and i may be wrong, but he does seem kind of worn down a bit. like he kinda seems like he's got a lot on his plate & is getting fed up w people saying things to him. he's just a person & he can only do so much. like i'm genuinely hoping that all of this isn't putting him in a bad mood.

but people are right when they say that he's online & knows what stays say about him. and i'd be fucking exhausted if i had to handle what he goes through. i think he might be too. people expect the fucking impossible from him when he's literally just a person who happens to have a very vulnerable job.

like genuinely just imagine. in the span of a week, you get all of this shit from people who are supposed to be your fans: (1) from the video, someone baiting you to say you love them more, knowing damn well that they stalk your entire life. (2) someone asking you to literally fix ticket sales and complain to you that they're frustrated and have to travel to see you and that you aren't giving them enough attention in their country. (3) people telling you off for not being asleep when you literally are up at the ass crack of dawn bc you have to wake up FOR THEM and to give THEM content. (4) people yelling at you & boycotting you for not talking about a topic as big as a war. as much as i support palestine, do people genuinely think that chris can talk about that? genuinely? "well other idols have done it so why can't he?" like baby, he got chan's room (which he had been doing for what? 4 years?) taken from him simply for saying that some people were disrespectful. by talking about the war, he would not only be the headline in the media for weeks, but he would also be violating his contract. they already took chan's room so what's next? probably taking away his insta, taking away his insta/tiktok lives, severely limiting his bubble posts, and even more. he'd have to issue a fucking apology statement just like last time- they could even put him on hiatus for all we know. i will never understand how people don't see that. "well he shouldn't compromise his morals." in an idealistic world, that's true, but this shit is his livelihood. i don't want to sound pessimistic, but in the end, the outcome of the war is 100% political. we can & should raise money for people who need it and do what we can to help, but we are at a point in the world that the governments control absolutely everything. do you genuinely think that what we do & say matters to them? the government always wins. it's like people are expecting chris' statement to suddenly overturn the government or smth.

and here's the thing: if he did talk about it & jype ended up taking away all of his shit, then stays are just gonna complain EVEN more, start more drama, start saying to boycot jype, sending trucks to make the kids' lives hell, and just generally put everyone in a bad light from the outside view.

meanwhile, chris is literally working his ass off every single day to the point that his body and mind are probably on the brink of exhaustion. like what more can someone give? i'd be so fucking fed up. and the fact that he hasn't exploded on anyone yet is honestly admirable.

i'm so sorry that this has spiraled into my random thoughts & opinions. i guess it just breaks my heart to see so much unwarranted responsibility on one person. like chris said, "i can't fix all your problems,"... with a little smile afterwards, trying to save face. there's no way that man isn't exhausted & that it isn't affecting him mentally. i hope he can find refuge in the little things like taking care of & decorating his new dorm, cooking with innie, and enjoying some rest when he actually gets the time. he deserves it

#bang chan #stray kids #bangchan #christopher bang #torialefay asks

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endofradio · 6 months ago

Text

FRAGMENTS OF FEAR — CHAPTER 7: TREASON

WARNINGS: gore mentions

NOTES: i lowkey locked in with this chapter WHY IS IT SO LONG. i also decided to spice things up a bit by having sylvie talk to abigail instead of joey doing it (when abigail says that frank is valdez). i am VERY excited to write the scene where abigail exposes everybody because the drama is going to be REAL.

SUMMARY: now that everyone’s locked inside, sylvie decides to make the decision to talk to abigail herself, something that she regrets. after rickles dies next, sylvie confronts frank, which only leaves her feeling more confused and frightened than she already is.

WORD COUNT: 3,290

TAGLIST: @reclaimedbythesea @creelmalfoylaufeyson69 @that-one-gay-aew-enthusiast @evildarliing @maggotmommys @maggotssmichael @13th-floor-in-moonstone @vampireheist @xashleyo03x @blackwolfstabs @atcarpenter

shoot me a message if you’d like to be added to my taglist! and… seriously — reblogs and comments are heavily appreciated. don’t just leave a like! it helps keep me motivated. 🙏

“Come on, Rickles. Hey!”

Rickles was storming straight for the front door, adamant on his decision to leave. Even with Joey calling for him and following after him, he didn’t change his mind one bit. Once he reached the door, he attempted to open it.

Well, unfortunately for him, the door was completely locked. There was no way to get out. In fact, as Rickles attempted to open the door, some sort of silver gate rose up, blocking the door from any sort of access. It was completely shielded by the gate. Everyone stared at the door in confusion. How the hell did that happen?

“Where the fuck did that come from?” Peter asked. He figured that since he was the strongest of the entire group, he probably had a chance at unlocking the door. It was worth a try, at least.

Turns out, being 6’5” and over 200 pounds doesn’t always make somebody the strongest. No matter how hard Peter strained as he tried to break the door free, nothing happened.

Confused, Peter looked up at the door. “What the fuck?”

He turned around to look at Rickles. “Rickles, stand back.”

Rickles took a few steps back, and then Peter threw himself at the gate, trying to use all of his strength in an attempt to successfully break through it. Still, nothing happened. It only resulted in some physical pain that definitely hadn’t been worth it.

“It’s locked,” Peter announced, disappointed.

Frank rolled his eyes. “Thanks, Peter. It’s obviously fuckin’ locked.”

Sylvie and the others watched as Peter still tried to unlock the door. Great, so now everyone was stuck here. Dean had mysteriously been killed, and now the front door was completely unusable. It almost seemed like this entire place was just one big trap.

Frank sauntered over to Sylvie with a shit-eating grin plastered on his face. “Looks like you’re stuck with me, then.”

Sylvie looked up at Frank, a half-annoyed expression on her face. Seeing that infuriatingly smug grin on his face made her want to just smack him, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Maybe she was a coward, maybe it was something else. Either way, the fact she couldn’t make herself do anything about it was bothering her. It was as though her feelings toward Frank were slowly beginning to do a complete 180° in the span of just a few hours.

“And I bet you’re just happy about that, aren’t you?” She asked, trying to sound like a total smart-ass. A snarky response was the most Sylvie could do.

Frank’s smirk grew at Sylvie’s response. He only looked cockier. “Well, I’m certainly not complaining.”

“This whole thing is a trap.”

Frank and Sylvie looked to see Rickles walking away in an obvious hurry. If the front door wasn’t going to be any use, then he figured he’d keep looking. He was determined to get out of this place somehow.

Peter watched as Rickles disappeared. “Rickles! Where’s… hey. Where’s Rickles going?”

“Goddamnit.” Frank hissed under his breath. “Don’t worry about it, Peter. I’ll go after him.”

Peter sighed. “Alright.”

Joey then had an idea. “If Valdez is here, perhaps he checked on the girl and left her there to throw us off…” she speculated.

“I’ll go talk to her.” Sylvie then offered. Right as Joey was about to speak, she was already making her way back up the stairs to the kid’s room.

“Wait—”

Sylvie paused, turning around to look at Joey, who was trying to catch up with her.

“You can’t go in there, Ava.”

“She’s already seen my face. It doesn’t matter.”

Before Joey could say anything else to try and stop Sylvie, she continued on her way.

When Sylvie carefully opened the door, Abigail looked up at her, fearfully clutching a blanket. The sight made Sylvie’s heart clench. She felt really, really bad for the kid. None of this was right at all. She should be at home right now, not locked up in some mansion in the middle of nowhere in Massachusetts.

“What do you… want?” The girl croaked, her voice trembling. “Where’s Joey?”

Sylvie sighed, carefully taking a seat on the edge of the bed, making sure to keep her distance. The last thing she wanted was to make the kid even more afraid than she already was.

“I just need to ask you something,” Sylvie explained, trying to sound as gentle as possible. “I’m not gonna hurt you. I just need to talk to you, okay?”

Reluctantly, the girl slowly nodded. She still seemed wary of Sylvie, but not as much. Well, that was a good sign at least.

“Has anyone else been in this room?” Sylvie then asked.

Abigail paused, then shook her head. “N-no… just you and… Joey… and the man with the glasses…”

Sylvie slowly nodded. Only her, Joey, and Frank had been in the room, apparently. Just to make sure that Abigail was being honest, she decided to press a little more. She knew how scared kids could lie, speaking from her own experience. Sylvie had personally lied a lot as a child to protect herself. If Valdez had come in here, there was the possibility that he could’ve threatened Abigail into keeping his name out of her mouth. Hopefully, that wasn’t the case.

“Are you sure?” Sylvie asked, slowly raising an eyebrow.

Abigail gave a quick nod.

Sylvie sighed. “Nobody else has been in this room, is that correct? By the way, you can be honest. Nobody’s going to hurt you.”

Abigail shook her head. Sylvie tried to search her expression for any sign of hesitation, but… she appeared to be telling the truth. Sylvie couldn’t detect a single sign of dishonesty.

She was about to get up and leave the room when Abigail suddenly spoke up.

“He’s gonna hurt me.”

Sylvie turned around to look at her, noticing how the girl seemed to be completely frightened again. She paused, feeling her chest begin to tighten with concern.

“What do you mean? Who’s gonna hurt you?”

“The man with the glasses.” Abigail continued, her voice growing more panicked. “He said he’s gonna hurt me.”

Sylvie could feel her chest start to tighten even more. “Wait, hold on. Are you telling me the truth?”

Abigail frantically nodded. “Yes! I’m serious… I’m serious. Please… please believe me. I’m really scared. He said I need to keep a secret, or… or he’d hurt me.”

“What secret?”

What she said next made Sylvie’s heart just about drop to her stomach.

“He said he works for my father… he said his name’s… Valdez.”

Fuck.

Sylvie didn’t know what to believe. Sure, Frank was a cold-hearted bastard in all honesty… but a ruthless murderer? Maybe she was just in denial, but she couldn’t picture him doing what had been done to Dean. She wasn’t sure if he was that sadistic, that cruel. The idea of Frank working for Lazar and being a brutal killer was enough to make Sylvie sick to her stomach.

If it was all true… then what else did Sylvie not know about Frank?

“You’re not just saying that, right?” She carefully asked.

Abigail looked so afraid that she seemed as though she was about to break down in tears. She fervently nodded again. “I’m telling the truth, I promise!”

Sylvie had to get out of there. She couldn’t bring herself to hear anything else. She didn’t want to hear anything else.

But, as she started to head for the door, Abigail spoke up again.

“Why are you surprised?”

Sylvie was starting to feel increasingly agitated. She turned around again, suddenly sick of hearing the child’s voice. “What the hell do you mean?” She asked, sounding almost irritated. She instantly regretted it.

“He’s a very bad man. I think you know that.”

Sylvie had enough. Quickly, she rushed out of the room and shut the door, her mind struggling to process everything she had just heard. None of it made sense. None of it seemed… real. She leaned against the door, trying to steady her breathing.

What am I supposed to do now?

As Sylvie remained there, her back pressed against the door, she tried to think. As she reflected on Abigail’s words, she thought about what she said about Frank working for Lazar. As she thought about it… she reluctantly realized that it made sense. She remembered back to when she and Frank were talking earlier, how he had admitted to leaving his old life behind.

What if he had been referring to working for Lazar?

The more Sylvie thought about it, the more sick she felt. She didn’t want to think about it anymore. Maybe the kid’s just lying because she’s scared.

But… why would she say something like that?

Why are you surprised? He’s a very bad man. Those words kept repeating in Sylvie’s brain. But… what confused her the most was Abigail’s next words after that, “I think you know that.” What the hell had she meant by that? I think you know that? Sylvie didn’t even know who the fuck the girl was.

What was even worse was that she was right — Sylvie knew that Frank wasn’t a good person. But… “a very bad man?” What the fuck— nevermind. She was done thinking about this bullshit. The more she thought, the more confused she became.

As Sylvie continued to lean against the door, she heard voices coming from one of the rooms down the hall — Joey and Rickles. Quickly, she hurried down the hall and into the room, clearly interrupting a conversation. Upon seeing the worry on Sylvie’s face, though, Joey and Rickles both became concerned.

“What is it?” She asked.

Sylvie drew in a shaky breath. “Something is really fucking wrong.”

Joey narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean?”

Sylvie couldn’t bring herself to explain. “If you want to know, go talk to the girl yourself. I don’t… I don’t know if she’s being serious or not.”

Joey and Rickles exchanged a disconcerted glance before looking back at Sylvie. Joey slowly nodded. “Alright. I’ll… be right back.”

Once Joey disappeared, Rickles glanced at Sylvie again. “You look like you’ve seen a fucking ghost.” He commented. “The hell happened?”

Sylvie shook her head. “I don’t… I don’t want to talk about it. If she tells Joey the same thing she told me, I swear to God…”

Now, Rickles just seemed confused. “What are you talking about?”

“Look. Are you sure there’s no other way out of here? I need to get out of here. I… I want to go home.”

Rickles sighed, crossing his arms. “Trust me, I wish there was. As far as I know, we’re all locked up in here for who knows how much goddamn longer. I’m not buying the ‘twenty-four hours’ bullshit. I guarantee this is a trap.”

Sylvie nervously tapped her foot against the floor, her eyes darting around anxiously as she waited for Joey to return, anticipating what she would say. Seconds ticked by, and they were starting to seem like hours at this point.

“You believe Valdez is real, right?” Sylvie then asked.

Rickles slowly nodded. “I’ve heard too much shit about him for him not to be.” He answered, his voice taking on a grave tone.

“Do you really think it’s possible he’s here right now? Like, one of us is actually him?”

“Dean’s head was ripped clean off. That’s some bullshit that only Valdez is capable of,” Rickles explained, “and if the girl’s Lazar’s daughter… gives him more of a reason to be here.”

“Have you two seen Frank?”

Sylvie and Rickles turned around to see Joey briskly walking towards them. Her expression was difficult to read, but she did seem rather pissed. At least, that’s what her tone of voice suggested.

“I can go look for him.” Rickles then offered. “Why? He the next victim?”

Joey scoffed. “No. Actually, he might be the killer.”

Rickles’ eyes narrowed in a mixture of confusion and shock. “Wait, what?”

Sylvie felt like she was going to vomit right then and there.

“Frank is Valdez.” Joey continued, her voice cold. “He told the girl.”

Rickles wasn’t exactly buying it. “He wanted to leave. That doesn’t make any sense.”

He had a good point, Sylvie thought. If Frank was really Valdez, then why the hell did he seem so adamant about leaving after talking to Abigail?

“He acted like he wanted to leave.” Joey then said.

“If he’s Valdez and Lazar’s his boss, then why kidnap his kid?” Rickles questioned.

Sylvie was relieved that at least Rickles was skeptical… but at the same time, if Frank wasn’t Valdez, then who was? Jesus Christ… none of this was making any sense.

“Maybe he and Lambert are planning a power play.” Joey suggested.

Rickles let out a sigh. “You’re telling me that skinny motherfucker rips people apart?” He scoffed. “Something doesn’t add up.”

Sylvie decided that she might as well offer her opinion. “I know he’s an asshole, but I can’t picture him doing some gruesome shit like that, y’know?”

Joey seemed reluctant to believe Rickles and Sylvie, her expression wary. “All I know is that Frank definitely isn’t an amateur. Something about him doesn’t sit right with me.” She spoke. “If Frank really is Valdez, then he definitely knows how to get out of here, which means so would I if I spend about six minutes with him.”

“So… what’s the plan?” Sylvie asked.

Joey sighed, clicking her tongue as she tried to think of something. “You two split up and take the main staircase. I’ll go south. We’ll meet in the middle.”

Reluctantly, Sylvie slowly nodded. “Alright.”

Rickles tried to offer a small, reassuring smile. “We gonna get through this.”

“I have to.”

“You have a kid?” He asked.

Joey nodded. Sylvie felt a pang in her chest. God… she definitely did not belong here. Silently, Sylvie hoped that Joey’s son was safe and well back at home.

Rickles placed a comforting hand on Joey’s shoulder. “We’ll make sure you get home.”

As Sylvie wandered through the mansion, she started to feel unsafe now that she had lost sight of Rickles. Now, she was by herself, and suddenly… everything seemed eerily quiet. Where was he, anyway?

Sylvie stood there in the hallway, her eyes anxiously darting around as she tried to see if she could hear or spot any sign of him. Yet, there was nothing.

And then, she heard what sounded like gurgling coming from the distance. Her heart starting to race with worry, Sylvie dashed toward the direction of where the sound was coming from, leading her to another room. As she stood in the doorway, she saw Rickles standing there, his back turned.

“Hey, is everything okay?” Sylvie asked, her voice cautious.

Then, Rickles suddenly collapsed, and that was when Sylvie caught sight of his face — it was horribly mutilated and looked as though a fucking dog had ripped through his face. His cheek was torn open, and she could see his teeth through the gaping, bloody hole. The wound went all the way down his neck, dark blood staining his shirt.

Covering her mouth, Sylvie took a few steps back, desperately fighting the urge to vomit. She immediately wanted to break down and cry right there, just… scream. “What the fuck…? No, no, no…”

Two people had just brutally died in this mansion. Already, two people were gone in only a brief span of time. Sylvie didn’t know how much more she could handle. Who was going to be next? That was all she could think about.

Quickly, Sylvie ran to the nearest bathroom, opening the toilet seat as she retched. Nothing came up, so all she could do was let out painful dry heaves. Once she was done, she closed the seat and staggered to her feet. Suddenly feeling a rush of anger, she slammed her fists against the wall, as though she was trying to knock some sense into herself. Maybe this was just a nightmare, and she’d wake up from it.

“Wake up… fucking WAKE UP!”

She continued to punch the wall, but nothing happened. She only felt pain… which meant this was either real or a hyper-realistic nightmare. Unfortunately, it was beginning to seem like it was… real.

“Hey, what the fuck’s the matter with you?”

Sylvie whipped her head around, her senses on high alert. Any movement, sound, or voice was enough to make her jump out of her skin at this point.

When she turned around, Sylvie saw Frank standing there, looking at her with a mixture of annoyance and… perhaps a bit of concern, which was rather rare to see from him. It seemed more like an annoyed type of concern, whatever the hell that meant.

Upon seeing Frank’s face, Sylvie didn’t know how to react. One thing was for sure — she didn’t feel good.

“Get… get away from me.”

Frank narrowed his eyes, his annoyance growing. Instead of listening to Sylvie and backing away from her, he only stepped closer to her. She flinched as he moved towards her, almost as if she was expecting him to hurt her.

Frank let out an irritated scoff. “Jesus Christ, would you calm the fuck down? I’m not gonna hurt you.”

“Why don’t you have any… blood on you?” Sylvie asked, her voice shaking.

Frank looked taken aback by the question, his eyes widening slightly in a genuine expression of shock. “The fuck are you talkin’ about?”

“You… you’re Valdez. The girl… the girl told me.”

Frank went from shocked to annoyed in seconds. “Are you fuckin’ kidding me? You’re seriously listening to her?”

“Rickles just… Rickles just died. Rickles and Dean are both dead. You…”

Frank rolled his eyes, letting out an exasperated sigh. “Sylvie, for the love of God. You don’t have a single clue what you’re fuckin’ talking about, do you? I know you’re smarter than this.”

“Well, can you please tell me what the fuck is going on? I just saw two people die. I’m scared. I want to get out of here.”

“What’s going on?” Frank repeated. “That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”

“Please tell me the truth. The girl said the same thing to me and Joey, that you’re… that you’re Valdez.”

Frank let out an annoyed huff. “Did she, now? Well, I don’t appreciate people trying to tarnish my fuckin’ reputation.”

Sylvie swallowed, trying to steady her breathing. “So… she’s lying?”

Frank chuckled, the sound devoid of any humor. “No fuckin’ shit. Children love to lie… but lying about something like this? I’d say that somebody needs to be put in their goddamn place.”

“But then… who did it? Who’s… killing everybody?”

“I don’t fuckin’ know. That’s what we’re all trying to figure out, right?”

Letting out an annoyed grumble, Frank turned around to walk away. Just as he was about to leave, Sylvie spoke.

“You’re not going to let anything happen to me, right? Just… tell me everything’s going to be okay. I don’t… I really don’t want to die. Not here.”

Frank paused, looking back at Sylvie for a moment. His expression was unreadable, but he seemed slightly caught off-guard by her sudden vulnerability. In the time that he knew her, he never once heard her ask him for reassurance. Frank had always known Sylvie as a defiant, feisty little brat… yet, here she was, frightened to death because she didn’t want to die. It was a side of her that he had never seen before.

No, don’t let her get to you.

Frank remained silent for a few moments, trying to think of how he would respond.

“You’re not gonna die.” He simply answered, his voice matter-of-fact. Cold. Emotionless.

And then, he left.

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