#the fact that there is a final chapter missing… that i should just sit down and write…

[bright-and-burning]

gay porn might just be the thing to topple my ted lasso fic in terms of ao3 stats… FINALLY!!!!

[sniigura-archive]

Multiversal DP (1)

Chapter 2

College Au! Adam x Fem!Reader x Canon! Adam

Summary: You thought God was looking down at you with a pitiful look, when your apartment burned down and the only person who answered your call was your whacky situationship.

But when a weird angel appears, who uncannily looks like Adam just in bigger and even more obnoxious, you realise that God was straight up laughing in your face.

This is based on my College Au! but you don’t need to read it to understand this.

CW/TW: Fire, Porn with slight Plot, Two-Shot, Jealousy, Controlling behaviour, TW ADAM, misogyny, toxic relationship, sci-fi bullshit which makes no sense, Mutual masturbation, slight financial dependency on readers part, possessive behaviour, tell me if i missed anything

A/N: This will be a two shot i swear ‼️‼️ nothing more nothing less

Today was a bad Saturday.

It was exhausting and went on longer than it should. Everything that could go wrong went wrong. First you had to drive to your college library to give back a book otherwise you would be fined, then you had to work an extra shift because someone got sick (hangover from the party yesterday you skipped), then your bus didn’t come without warning? What the fuck was that about? Since it was the last one you had to fucking walk home.

You were tired to your bones.

If you weren’t so tired, maybe you would have noticed the light coming from the floor above your apartments, and the fact that it glowed suspiciously orange and red. Walking up the stairs, the further up you got the more you noticed a heaviness in the air. Is someone using their bbq inside again?

Until the fire alarm went off, while you were one floor away from your apartment. What? You just stood there, frozen in shock. Is this a test? Standing still on the steps you considered continuing your way home, until everyone started spilling out of their own apartments. Ugh. So you’re doing this.

Fleeing with everyone else the building, you stood outside while you watched as the flames finally showed themselves from the outside. Since the apartment where it started was directly above yours, you saw the flames caught over to your own. It smelled like smoke, despair and money you will have to spend to replace everything. You don’t even know if your landlord has insurance. He hasn’t repaired your AC unit in 2 years now.

It felt dreamish, the way the fire department came, being able to see how a big portion was consumed by flames, and in the end sitting at the curb while freezing your ass off. One thing is clear, you won’t be able to sleep in your own bed tonight.

Your neighbours sat with you, together with a fireguy who chatted with everyone about the damage. Some sort of support beam came down. You didn’t bother engaging in the conversation.

It drifted towards where everyone is going to stay, your neighbours already had that figured out. He’s staying with his boyfriend, she’s going to visit her sister and they are going to each take a child and visit their own parents. When the eyes moved to you, you felt uncomfortable. Where will you stay?

“You should start calling your family, sweetie.” The old woman told you, her voice rough from all the cigarettes she smokes.

Everything today got you fucked up. Taking in a shaky breath and wiping your hands on your jeans, you stood up to make a few calls. Walking away from the group and basically hiding behind the firetruck, you didn’t want everyone to see that fact that you have like 3 contacts in your phone. You think they already know, though.

Since it’s in the middle of the night, or more like the new day already, Monica didn’t answer, neither did Dymphna or Bernadette. Maybe you should just crash in a motel. Then you remember what’s in your budget and how the motel in your price range had some weird incidents regarding rats and cockroaches and meth deals.

Tapping your phone against your forehead, you tried to keep calm and think. Then you remembered who gifted you that phone and you sighed.

Opening Adam’s contact, you hit the call button before you could chicken out. Holding your phone against your ear, you felt panic wash over you and before you could fumble around to end the call, Adam picked up.

“Fucking hell, baby, if yer callin’ me for anythin’ but a good dicking down ‘m gonna be pissed.” His voice was gruff and it’s clear to you that you just woke him up. He mumbled out the words.

All you could muster up was a sob and a weak “Sorry.”

“Where the fuck-“ You hang up before he could finish his sentence. Great. Why did you even think about calling Adam? Are you stupid? Desperation makes people do crazy things.

You tried to call your friends again and when everyone went to voicemail you thought about blocking them all in a blind rage because why the fuck can’t they be there during an emergency? Taking deep breath to calm yourself, you reasoned with yourself that you too would be sleeping during the witching hours.

Nervously biting down on your lower lip, you considered throwing yourself off a bridge to cope with everything. Deciding against it, you looked at your notifications instead. Adam was spamming you.

[Adam Godfree]: where r u 1:11 AM

[Adam Godfree]: (Call) 1:12 AM

[Adam Godfree]: send ur location 1:13 AM

[Adam Godfree]: baby 1:14 AM

[Adam Godfree]: (Call) 1:15

[Adam Godfree]: i’m not mad just say where u are 1:15 AM

[Adam Godfree]: (Call) 1:15 AM

[Adam Godfree]: (Call) 1:16 AM

[Adam Godfree]: (Call) 1:17 AM

[Adam Godfree]: answer my fcuikng calls 1:17 AM

[Adam Godfree]: im cuminv over u btter be fucking there 1:17 AM

More messages and call attempts clogged your notifications.

The fact that Adam is the only one answering in your time of need is lowkey so embarrassing. Since you read the messages through your notifications field, you aren’t leaving him on read. You think that would have ticked him off even more.

Taking a sneak back at the street, still covering your body with the fire truck, you noticed that everyone was gone. They all have retired for the night. It was a pretty intense debacle, everyone coming out to watch and film. The fire truck was started and you jumped slightly, fleeing towards the side walk.

If a fire truck drove you over you’d be very very very unhappy.

Sitting down on the street like the loser you are, you rubbed your hands over your face. Don’t cry. You’re all alone. But don’t cry. Don’t cry. Looking up the nearest Motel near you, which you could afford, you got up. Your legs felt weak. You didn’t even have a fucking phone charger with you. At least you took your laptop and the charger with you, if any of your files were gone you’d die.

You couldn’t help but think of everything you need to replace. Ok maybe you can cry a little. Crying and walking is an honest to god awful combination but beggars can’t be choosers or whatever.

Maybe you should text Adam that everything’s fine and that you were just being a bit dramatic. It’s been like, what? 10 minutes? And he usually takes 20 minutes to get here. You feel bad that he had to drive half the way.

Just as you were about to open the chat, a car turned into your street with an illegal speed. Damn.

Is that Adam’s car??? Double damn.

Adam stopped the car besides you with squeaking breaks and tires. He threw open the car door, and even before he fully stepped out he was yelling at you, “Bitch, what the fuck?!? You have the fucking nerve to call me up in the middle of the night and then to ignore me?? Do you even know who the fuck you’re talking to? How many other-“

“My apartment burned down.” You wanted to bawl your eyes out.

Everything you have meticulously worked hard and saved up for is gone. All your memories and trinkets and plants and everything you valued.

“..You’re joking?”

You shook your head, deciding on covering your face with your hands while you full on started sobbing now. Your breathing was hysterical and you thought you were about to full on start hyperventilating now because you have to apply for new documents now and what’s with your class notes and well at least all your cards were with you. Do you have to get a P.o. box now and how much does that cost? Can you even afford to be in a motel so long, do you have to pay for that? What happens if they can’t like restore the apartment complex where will you live the market is horrible and you’re going to be homeless and in debt, won’t you? You will have to drop out or take up more shifts or even get a second job but your grades and scholarship and and and and and and

Adam walked over towards you, but you were too deep in your mental breakdown spiral to notice it, and he carefully placed his hands on your shoulders. You flinched slightly at the unexpected contact, but when you realised it’s just Adam you relaxed again. Taking your hands away from your eyes, you had them resting on your cheeks.

“It’s okay, don’t worry that pretty little head. I will take care of everything, alright?” Adam’s voice was uncharacteristically soft. His fingers were massaging your tense muscles. You looked up at him with wet eyes and nodded pathetically at him. You didn’t trust your voice.

Adam started grinning down at you, “I have always wanted a cum dump at home, anyways.”

This just made you start crying again. Motel it is.

“Ah, bad joke. Don’t cry, cmon. You know me, babe, don’t have ta do anything you don’t wanna do.” He pulled you into his chest, his hand smoothing over your hair while the other rubbed your back. He’s warm and soft. You continued to sob into his sleeping shirt, while clutching at his shirt.

You don’t know for how long you’ve been crying for, but Adam simply stood during that time with you at the side walk, while comforting you. He didn’t speak, which was rare.

Once you have finally made the rational adult decision to calm down, after god knows how much time has passed, you lifted your head up from his chest and took a step back. You were still sniffling and you didn’t even want to image what your face was looking like.

Adam grasped your cheeks into his hands while wiping away your tears with his thumb, “Alright, alright, let’s get you to bed. Must have been exhausting for my poor, little baby.”

He leaned forward, giving your forehead a kiss. Then he grasped you by the shoulders and lead you towards the passenger seat, opening the door for you and helping you in by grasping your hand in his. Once you were sat down, with your bag at your feet, Adam leaned down towards you and put your seatbelt on for you. He closed the door and walked over to sit down in the drivers seat.

Driving to Adam’s apartment was relaxing, music was playing and you were starting to fall asleep.

“..Ho….that…ven..hap..”

“Huh?” You lifted your head up from the car window, blinking at Adam sleepily.

“I asked how the fire even happened?” Adam glanced over at you, you were going to be there soon.

You sighed, and rested your head again against the window, “Guy feel asleep with a joint in his hand…Or was it his mouth? Doesn’t matter. Curtains and carpet caught on fire.”

“Oh my fucking…You’re kidding me?” Adam drummed his fingers against the steering wheel.

You stretched your arms, hands and fingers out before you, “I wish.”

Adam continued watching you, glancing at you as if you didn’t notice. He was trying to be slick. Smoothly parking his car, he got out. You opened your car door, taking your bag with you when you left the car. Adam took your bag from you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pressing you into his side. You both made your way to his apartment.

Taking off your thin winter coat, together with your old boots, you were ready to just pass out.

“You want me in the guest room?” You asked him, while rubbing at your eyes.

“The fuck? No. You’re sleeping with me, baby. Pun intended.” He winked at you.

You sighed warily, you’re too exhausted to even glare at Adam. He was still fighting with untying his own boots. Shifting from one leg to the other, you decided on looking around Adam’s living room. Nothing has changed. Still weirdly sterile and empty. His bedroom was at least somewhat different, filled with band posters and guitars.

After Adam finally got his shoes and jacket off, he intervened your fingers with his and lead you to his bedroom. He went and rummaged through his closet, giving you a sweatshirt, “This should do for now, we will get you new fucking clothes tomorrow….”

“Thank you, Adam.”

“Yeah, yeah, how about you remember this next time I want my dick sucked? How I’m such a nice fucking guy, and how you owe me, babe.” Adam pinched your cheek while he spoke, grinning down at you.

Dear god, please fix up your apartment as fast as possible. With lots of love, your saddest creation.

Adam answering your call is literally the devils work, you can’t explain it otherwise. Is this some sort of punishment? What did you do in your last life to deserve this.

Rolling your eyes at Adam, you got out of his grasp and turned your back to him to get dressed. Taking off your own hoodie, and bra you slipped into the sweatshirt Adam gave you. It was soft and the material was thick and nice. It was huge on you, but that’s just because Adam is a big guy. Everywhere.

Taking off your jeans, you folded your clothes messily and put them on Adam’s desk chair. Adam was already in his sleeping wear, since you gracefully woke him up in the middle of the night. He was in bed, watching you get dressed, while he yawned.

Ducking under the blanket with him, Adam grabbed your arm and dragged you towards him. It’s like he wants to live in your skin. He made your head rest against his chest, while he had his arm wrapped tightly around you.

“Wake me up again today, ’m going to spank you so hard you won’t be able to sit down ever fucking again.” He grumbled at you, while giving your ass a pinch.

You gasped slightly, before burying your head into his neck. He always smells nice.

Before you knew it, you were already asleep.

In your dream, a big support beam in your burning building was dropped on you. Crushing your body to the floor, with your back to the ground.

Blinking, you slowly but surely woke up, with your heart hammering against your chest. Trying to turn over, you noticed something heavy laying on you. Adam’s head was on your chest, his arms were wrapped around your back and his breathing was even. Remembering his threat, you decided on letting him sleep. Sighing and burying your hand in his soft hair, you decided on continuing snoozing.

But as soon as you buried your hands in Adam’s hair, Adam lifted his head up and was now resting his chin on your chest. Does he not know that tits are sensitive?

With his oh so charming grin on his face, you just knew he was up to no good. He shifted and was now resting his weight on his arms, besides your head, rather than using your body as a pillow. Instinctively, you wrapped your arms around his neck.

Adam crashed your lips together, he is as shameless as always. His hand roamed your body, till he slipped it under your sweatshirt. Gently fondling your left breast. He rolled his half-hard dick on your thigh.

Disconnecting your lips from his, you whimpered against his lips.

“What happened to ‘Good morning’? ‘How did you sleep?’. What happened to that?”

Adam moved to kiss your ear, cheek and then your neck. Leaving open mouthed kisses against your skin, while he panted against you.

“Mornin’ slut,” Why is his morning voice so fucking sexy? “you jerk me off right now ‘n I’m going to buy you whatfuckingever you want today.”

You would jerk him off for free. You did jerk him off for free. Are you a whore?

Adam sat up, moving so that both his knees were besides your stomach. You were happy he didn’t sit down on you, he could easily crush you. That’s sexy, though. He kneeled over you, and you saw his dick strain against his fuzzy pants.

He grasped your sweatshirt into his big hand, pulling it up towards your chin to expose your tits. Seeing them made him smirk. Taking your hand into his, he placed it on his dick and ground your palm against him.

“Watcha waiting for, baby?” He purred while looking down on you.

Adam always made you horribly nervous. No matter how often you hang out, or fuck, he always has you blushing and stuttering. Fuck. Grasping the hem of Adam’s pants into your hands, you pulled them down together with his underwear.

His dick was heavy, curving downwards and already leaking pre cum. You’ve had this monster inside you more than once, but every time you’re surprised at just how big he is. It’s not only his length, but also the girth. Jesus. Stretching you out mercilessly every time, you struggled with wrapping your fingers around him. His gold prince albert piercing glinted in the dim light.

Realising with your hand wrapped around him, that jerking him off with dry hands was probably not the move. Making sure to lick your other hand, while keeping eye contact with Adam, you wrapped your now wet hand around his member. You started with slow a slow movement, spreading his pre cum across his dick. You licked your other hand, because this was for sure a two hand job, you now were able to use your left hand for the lower part and the right hand for the top part.

Massaging his tip with your thumb, Adam groaned, “Ughh, fuck babe, you loooove serving me, don’t you? Making me cum is, like, your fucking dream job.” He laughed at his own fantasy, “Don’t worry tho, making your pretty pussy cum is my own life work.”

Adam reached back, his hand brushing over your hips and finally getting under your panties, “Sooo wet already? You’re too easy.” The way he grinned and sounds giddy made it obvious how much he enjoyed it. His fingers found your clit and then your weeping hole. He gathered the wetness on his middle and pointer finger, he then went to massage your clit.

Your hips jerked up, at the sudden pleasure cursing through your body. Moaning up at Adam, your hands stuttered their jerking movements. Quickly catching yourself, you speed up your movements while focusing on Adam rubbing at your clit.

He moved his fingers to pinch your clit in between his fingers, you whined while your hips jerked even more, “Stop that. Do it properly.” You hissed at him, while glaring up at him.

Adam simply snickered at you, but he did move back his fingers to continue rubbing your clit. You moved your left hand to massage Adam’s balls, gently moving your fingers across that sensitive part of Adam. Grasping softly in your hands, arching your palm up in a wave motion.

“Fuuuuuck, ha, you’re doing so well.” Adam moaned out, while he intensified his finger movements. Shit, you’re close. But so was Adam, you could tell by his furrowed brow, he was moving his hips to grind his dick further into your hands and fingers, his noises and breathing.

“Pleaseee, Adam, won’t you cum all over..me?” You pouted up at him, massaging his dick.

The pressure build up in your lower stomach, your pussy clenching around nothing as you felt yourself cum. Shit. Adam laughed at you, his fingers never left your clit.

It didn’t take much longer for Adam to cum after you, coating your torso white. It was hot, sticky and thick. Ugh. Adam’s fingers still didn’t left your clit. What an asshole.

“EeeeEeeenough, Adam, Oh fuck-“ You tried to angel your hips in a way that he leaves your most sensitive part alone, he chuckled and wiggled his hand out off your panties. Thank god.

Adam pulled his pants back up, and sat down besides your laying down body. You tried to catch your breath, your clean hand covered your eyes. With Adam’s sweatshirt not covering you anymore properly, you were starting to get cold.

Taking your face in his hands, Adam gave your cheek a wet kiss. He brushed his lips over your ear, before whispering in your ear, “Aren’t you just my precious little slut? Go shower, baby.”

You nodded your head at that, showering would be a smart move. Getting up, you located your clothes, before you started walking Adam gave your ass an stinging slap. Gasping in surprise, you went and covered your ass with your hands.

“Man, I didn’t even wake you up..” You grumbled at him, going over to take your clothes.

“Yeah bitch, but you made me wait till you woke up to drain my balls.” Adam got out of bed, stretching his arms over his head.

You stuck out your tongue towards Adam, with your clothes in hand you took off towards the shower. Using Adam’s stuff always felt weird to you. Obviously he doesn’t have woman shower gel, but still. Smelling like Axe was sure something, having your friends side eye you for your smell was even worse.

Getting out, you towelled yourself dry. Slipping into your clothes form yesterday, you left the bathroom. Seeing Adam in the kitchen, at the stove, you made your way over. Wrapping your arms around his mid section, you buried your head between his shoulder blades.

Adam wrapped his one hand over your intervened hands. God, he’s such a big guy.

“Hey baby, you like french toast?”

You simply mumbled a yeah into his shirt, while smelling how good Adams cologne smells. No wonder he’s so popular. If only it wasn’t for his mouth. Adam rubbed your hands with his thumb while chuckling. He turned the stove off and turned around, taking your face into his hands he gave you a deep kiss.

“You excited to fulfill your womanly role of being in the kitchen while you’re here?” Adam mumbled against your lips.

“…You piss me off beyond believe.” You shoved him away by his shoulders, while he laughed.

He didn’t stay away for long, wrapping his arms around you and pressing your bodies together.

“Why? You don’t wanna be my pretty little housewife? Nah, but seriously you do have to pull your weight ‘round here.” Adam pushed a few wet strands of your hair out of your face.

You nodded at Adam, “Of course….I know it wouldn’t be enough but I could give you the amount of rent I pay?”

Adam looked at you like you were stupid, “Babe, I fucking meant, like, cleaning up after yourself, cooking once in a while and hopping on my awesome dick. Well, it’s more of a bonus to be able to ride me whenever you please. I can make that pussy fucking churn, baby, you know it.”

Rolling your eyes at Adam, you simply hid away by smashing your face into Adam’s chest. His incredibly soft chest. Gliding his hands all over your body, Adam bend his neck to whisper into your ear,

“Sit down before the food gets cold.”

Sitting down, you let Adam fix you and him a plate. It all felt weirdly domestic.

Once you were finished, you put everything in the dishwasher while Adam made his way to the bedroom, to get dressed. You plopped down on the couch, twirling your thumbs basically. Sighing, you laid down on the couch. Adam entered the living room.

“What’s up? Stop looking all depressed and shit, we are bout to empty my fucking wallet. Aren’t woman happy to go shopping on a man’s hard earned dime?” Adam stood in-front of you, with his jacket in hand.

“I just..I can’t believe I’m homeless…..This is my biggest fear coming true. Oh my god….I’m homeless…” You covered your face with your hands and groaned loudly. You’re fucking homeless.

Adam scoffed at you, taking your hands into his own and taking them off your face.

“Baby, you’re living here now. We will put your last name on the fucking mailbox and whatever else you need. I will handle everything, sweet thing, don’t you fucking worry.” Adam grasped your knee into his hand now, shaking it slightly, “Cmon, get fucking up. I need you to lighten my wallet up.”

You stood up, nodding at Adam, “Okay, okay, let’s get going.”

Walking towards your jacket, you put it on, together with your worn out boots. Fall is a bitch and winter was even worse. Adam furrowed his brows at your clothes, he grabbed your jacket and felt your jacket lining.

“Jesus, this thin thing doesn’t do shit for you, and what the fuck’s up with your boots? Woman, we have to get you a whole new wardrobe.” He shook his head at you, like it’s your fault you’re broke.

Shopping with Adam played out as well as you thought. When Adam asked you which store you usually go to, and you said the thrift store he looked unhappy. He grabbed you by the arm and dragged you all across the mall.

Unsurprisingly, his favourite place was the underwear section. When you grabbed a multi pack of basic panties, Adam looked at you like you personally ruined his life with that decision.

This whole thing was tiring, you just wanted to lay down. At least Adam had the time of is life, sending you to the dressing room and getting to play dress up doll with you. Eh, at least he isn’t bitching at you, he complains about how woman sizes are not all standardised, how the stitching is shit and how it can be that they don’t have that top, in that colour, in a bigger size. He’s in his zone. He has you try on stuff in different colours, shapes, sizes and man he’s picky as fuck.

All you wanted was a few sweatshirts, one pair of jeans and some socks and underwear. In the end you got a new fucking closet, your make up items basically replaced with the expensive version of your drug store ones, shampoo and conditioner from brands you couldn’t even pronounce, and some sanitary products. Once Adam started looking at sundresses (summer is like 6 months away??) you put your foot down and told him you wanted to go home. You weren’t sure more bags would fit on his arms and in his hands anyways, since he refuses to let you touch anything.

Standing in line at the last checkout, Adam was preoccupied looking at bras. Telling him your bra size was probably a mistake. Letting him drag you to a lingerie store was the other mistake. You felt your phone vibrate in the back pocket of your jeans.

Pulling it out, it was a group chat call from your friends. Accepting the call, you held your phone against your ear,

“‘Yello?”

“What in Christs name is going on that you call up a storm in the middle of the night?”

You could barley understand a word, with 3 different people talking at once, but that was the gist of it.

“Uhh, nothing bad. Apartment burned down.”

“WHATTT???”

Before you could elaborate, you felt your phone being snatched out of your hand. Looking back, you saw Adam glare at your phone.

“If it isn’t the fucking Hexenzirkel!….Mind your own fucking business, everything here’s alright.” With that he hung up your phone and pocketed it. Great. Now that’s a fire you will have to put out later.

Adam herded you forward, towards a free register. He paid for everything, and then took you towards the parking garage where he left the car. Stacking everything in the backseat and trunk, you sat down at your seat. Adam got in, and he started driving home.

Calming your friends was sure a thing you had to pull off. Explaining to them what happened and why you live now with Adam, off all people, was sure something you did. With lots of interruptions. Monica and Dy both assured you that you could always crash at their apartment, in their guest room.

Well, they won’t be able to make you cum 3 times in the span of 20 minutes, so you were going to ride this out. Literally.

You already realised that living with Adam would include lots of sex. He kind of made it his mission to christen every room in his apartment. More than once.

So across a few weeks, he had you ride him on the couch, eating you out in the bathroom, bending you over the kitchen counter, having you suck his dick in the guest room and romantic missionary in his bedroom. And much more and more frequently. Trying out cock warming sadly didn’t go as well, Adam doesn’t have the self control for that, but tying him down on a chair did help with that. And it was hot as fuck.

What you didn’t take in account for was the domesticity of it all. Cooking with Adam, drying the dishes while he washes, watching shows and movies, talking about each others day at the end of the day, cuddling, sleeping in each others embrace, listening to Adam sing and play his guitar, his rambling about the girls his band and music he enjoys, showering together and washing each others hair, grocery shopping together. It’s all so soft, you didn’t really except it. It scares you.

Adam had a lot of bad qualities, like how he tries to give you a curfew, you have to change your phone password every week, you’re sure he has your phone location somehow (you really have to check your app and settings), he keeps making attempts of convincing you to quit your job, tries to dictate what you wear outside the house (all you wear rn are baggy clothes anyways, not because of Adam but because it’s cold af), he always asks you where you’re going and with who, for how long will you stay out? Should he come with you? Don’t worry, baby, he will give a lift and coincidentally stays there for as long as you. Right besides you. He hid away all the door keys?? He loves scaring you and he has a tendency to make your keys and phone disappear when you’re about to leave.

So yeah, privacy was non existent. But when your landlord sent you an email on how you should still pay rent?? Adam took your phone and told you he would take care of it and lo and behold, another email followed up saying that you don’t need to pay for shit. Who would have fucking thought. A few days after the fire you were allowed inside again, picking out whatever wasn’t fully destroyed. There wasn’t much, Adam came with you, and when you were close to crying again, he gave your head a kiss and bought you your favourite take out.

You’re pretty sure he’s trying to condition you to be dependent on him, since when he makes you cum he has a tendency to whisper to you about how you’d should cancel your lease, how you should quit (again) and how nice wouldn’t it be to be his little housewife? You’re happy you got the copper IUD, otherwise you would be pregnant right now. Since Adam is insatiable.

At the end of the day you get fed, get 8 hours of sleep and Adam tries to drive and pick you up wherever you want. So you have been throughly enjoying the past few weeks. The fact that you have to reassure your friends that you are fine and juggle Adam’s weird behaviour is just something you have to deal with.

You were close to falling asleep. Adam was laying on the couch, with you on his chest. He was mindlessly scrolling on his phone, while you buried your face into his neck. His one hand was under your shirt, his fingers traced heart shapes on your skin. You felt his heart thump through his chest, in a slow rhythm. The TV was playing in the background, some fucking Family Guy episode Adam picked out.

The lights started to flicker, faster and faster.

“What the fuck?” Adam sat up, looking around confused.

All the electronics were starting to go crazy, the TV switched between movies and shows, the microwave started going off, together with the fire alarm. You rubbed your eye, while yawning. Everything came to a hold when everything got shut off. You sat in the dark.

“..Huh?” Is all you could get out. Whats going on?

“Fucking fuck. Did a fucking fuse blow out on me?” Adam ushered you off his lap, you stretched your arms over your head.

“Did you forget to pay utilities? Happened to me once or twice.” You threw into the room.

Adam scoffed at that, “Did you forget or were you too broke? I pay my shit on time, don’t fucking worry about it. Fuck. I think the fuse box is out on the hallway.”

“..Both.” You made an attempt at going back to clinging to Adam, he was comfy and you were tired.

“Can’t get rid of you, huh?” He chuckled at you, wrapping his arms around you and pressing you closer to him, “Need me to carry you to every fucking errand I need to run?”

You nodded at him, humming in agreement. Adam slipped his arm under your knees and the other under your shoulder, when he stood up he took you with him. Carrying you bridal style. You quickly wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Don’t drop me! Ah! Adam!”

“Damn babe, usually you only scream my name like that when I make you cream all around me! Don’t stress yourself, you weigh nothing to me. Watch this.” Adam laughed at you, he spun you around in his arms. Then he proceeded to do squats. You couldn’t help but giggle at his antics. After that, the final round, he did bicep curls, using you as his weight.

“Drop me, gym bro.” You laughed at him.

“Yes, mam.” Adam suddenly let go off you for a second, or at least made it seem like that.

Your heart dropped, genuinely thinking that Adam let go off without warning. But he quickly caught you again, laughing at your screaming and horrified expression. He set you back on your feet, grinning at you.

“Chillax babe, as if I would ever drop ya.” He brushed your hair away from your face.

“Fuck off, asshole. How about we look for that fuse box? I don’t wanna live in a lightless apartment.” You hissed at him, swatting away his grabby hands. At least your eyes got adjusted to the dark.

Before Adam could answer, everything started to go crazy again. TV blaring, lights flickering, beeping and fucking sparks flying.

Adam yanked you down with him by your arm, you both were squatting behind the couch.

“Fucking hell?! What the fucks going on??”

A blazing, colourful tear appeared into the air, between the TV and couch. Man were you happy to have said couch as a shield. A high pitched tone sounded through the air, causing both you and Adam to grimace. Covering your ears, you squinted while trying to take a look at the weird slit. It was changing size and form and honestly, you weren’t too sure what you were looking at. So you just ducked behind the couch again, not wanting to know what actually was going on.

Then it just stopped. Everything was pitch black, taking a look out the window you saw that non of the lights in the other buildings were on anymore. Fucking power shut off.

“Let’s get fucking out of here befo-“ Adam started speaking, but was interrupted by a horrible sizzling sound. You were sure that the sound waves which vibrated through the air were touching your soul.

The tear appeared again, just this time in a circle form. Adam and you ducked behind the couch again, while the…thing moved and changed and screeched. It stopped. Again.

“Jesus Christ…” You whispered into the darkness, looking at Adam with big eyes.

“Uhm, fuck no, I’m not the J- Dog. I’m fucking Adam, you know? The first dick on fucking earth?”

??????

Adam and you looked at each other like you have just seen a ghost. You both shoot up from behind the couch at the same time.

What kind of creature appeared in the living room????

He’s very tall. Too tall. And big. His horns hit the ceiling, so he has to awkwardly slouch. What even is his face? Are those golden wings? How fucking big are they? Wingspan of over 9000? Whats that round thing over his head, a halo? With a weird ass robe. Oh my god. What’s even going on anymore?

“Fucking sick, you both can hide your wings and halo? How long did that take you to fucking master? A century or two?” The thing gave you both a once over, his gaze lingered on Adam’s face, but he just shook his head. A century? You weren’t even ready to continue living for another 10 years.

You reached your hand out, grasping Adam’s arm tightly. Adam’s muscles were tense and he seemed to grind his teeth, glaring at the unwanted guest. God help you.

“What? You two to fucking shocked seeing this big of a deal, huh? I totally get it. Want an autograph?”

“..We…Don’t need to….Hide our…Wings. Because we are…People…?” You decided on saying. It’s better if you speak and not Adam, since he looked close to blowing up.

The creature blinked at you, “Oh shit…Don’t fucking worry about this little incident, sugar tits, upstairs we got extra protocol for this.” He turned his huge back towards you and Adam, giving you a nice view of his glowy, golden wings.

Since your heart was starting to calm down, and you were able to think clear, the realisation creeped in that he kind sounded like Adam? Weird coincidence.

Adam’s face soured even more at the pet name, “Al-fucking-right, listen here, A-“

Grabbing Adam by the collar of his hoodie, you yanked him down. Placing your finger against your lips, to signal for him to shut up, you let him go again. It’s best if Adam does not start a fight with a whole ass angel.

Said Angel was snapping his fingers repeatedly. Each time he did, the electronics started going crazy again. All that appeared were sparks around his fingers, and where the tear was it sizzled slightly. Great.

“The fuck? Why isn’t this shit working?”

Adam crossed his arms infront of his chest, looking unhappier with every passing second. This won’t go well. You feel it in your soul.

The angel nervously threw a look over his shoulder, at you and Adam. As if any of this was your fault. Rolling your eyes, you bit your tongue.

“…You sure you’re a fucking angel?” Adam spoke into the tense atmosphere.

“Yes I’m fucking sure I’m an angel! Have some fucking respect, without me non of you fuckers could be frolicking right fucking now!”

And so it starts. While the two men threw insults at each other, you tried to breath through your panic. Taking a good look at the angel, not only did he have the same voice as Adam, his face reminds you off the masks Adam’s band wears whenever they perform. Maybe….

“Take off your mask.” You decided on telling the giant. All eyes were on you now.

“Woah, bossy. And here I fucking thought you were a well trained bitch, who knows not to interrupt when the men are speaking.” Alright, you hate that guy.

He hooked his fingers under, what was finally revealed as a mask, and slipped his face out of it. Even though his hair was a mess, one thing was clear. That was Adam.

It was uncanny to watch, you were uncomfortable. It clearly felt like that they weren’t supposed to be in the same room. The only difference between their faces was that this one didn’t have any piercings, and he looked to be in his thirties. Good to know that Adam still will look hot in like 10 years. DILF. The even have the same facial expressions, and reactions to each other.

“You supposed to be some shitty alternative version of me, or what?” Adam asked, his chin in his hands and head tilted.

“Fuck no, you dumbass didn’t listen to me? I’m fucking Adam, the first man? More like my genes are alive and well in you. Good to know.” He nodded at Adam.

“Are you sure? Because his name is also Adam, and he has two ex girlfriends named Lilith and Eve. Same break up as you had…….Are we in a Bible fan-fiction? Why does everyone I know have biblical names and a fitting background?” Is your whole life a lie??

The angel simply blinked at you, then his gaze shifted towards Adam. He chuckled nervously again, once again snapping his fingers. All it did was make sparks fly and mess further with the electricity, not just in this apartment but also with every other building outside.

“Fucking stop it, shit obviously isn’t working.” Adam dragged his hand over his face, obviously exhausted.

“Well, if you can travel through space just like that, what’s really stopping you from also going through time? We basically already know that alternative universes are a thing, if we think of both timelines as water streams, going at the same speed….or time?” You put your hands infront of each other, not touching having them touch, “You must have accidentally messed something up in your travels, causing you to fall out of your stream into ours…” Moving your right hand to bump it into your left one, you imaged the angel falling and tumbling into your world.

“…That’s so cool.” You whispered under your breath, the angels wings fluffed up, a grin appearing on his face.

“Yeah, I’m pretty fucking cool, babes.” He looked so proud of himself, as if he did it all on purpose. Idiot.

Adam glared at his doppelgänger, while wrapping his arm around your shoulder and yanking you into his side. He rubbed his chin against the top of your head, like an animal marking it’s territory. You were too far into your multiversal fantasies and connecting it to your physics classes, to notice the angle smugly grinning at Adam, as if he won that round. Weird macho behaviour, which you couldn’t care less for.

“What are we fucking supposed to do now?” Adam asked, carefully.

“..Is the couch free, bro?”

[bahablastplz]

All in | Chapter 10

pairing: Lee Felix x f!reader (mafia au)

summary: You didn't know what you were getting yourself into when you started dating Yang Jungwon, notorious mafia boss. Your life gets flipped upside down when you're found beaten and bloody by SKZ, the rival mafia group, and you're quickly integrated into their lives. What will happen when you try to leave your old life behind and start anew?

chapter summary: you're finally back at the house and you need to find yourself a new normal again. you take this time to get better acquainted with the others and make sense of what you know

warnings: please see series masterlist for all warnings

series masterlist ~~ series taglist ~~ main masterlist

When you arrive back at the house, you start to feel sick. 

You’re not sure if it’s nerves or stress, but in reality it’s probably the events of the last few days finally starting to catch up to you. You immediately excuse yourself to your room and crash onto your bed, fighting back the urge to vomit. 

Someone knocks on your door. You tell them to go away and they do; that’s how you know it isn’t Chan. The night comes and goes and you sleep your way through it. You sleep into the morning. Well into the morning, in fact, that you miss both breakfast and lunch. 

You wake up finally, drenched in sweat and completely sore all over your body. It’s the sound of yelling outside of your door that rouses you from your sleep, your door slamming open causing you to cower under your covers. 

“Get up,” Chan says. His voice does not allow room for argument. 

“Chan, you should leave her–” 

“Changbin, I don’t fucking need you to tell me what to do right now. Y/N, get up. You’re eating dinner with us. You’re not skipping another meal,” he says. Tears prick at your eyes but you’re successful at holding them back. You are not going to cry. Not in front of Chan. 

“I don’t feel good,” you say. 

“That’s bullshit,” he says, nearly cutting you off as if he anticipated your answer. “I know I have put you through a lot these past few days, but like Hell am I going to let you wither away in my house.” You let out a squeal as you feel the covers get yanked off of your body, leaving you feeling bare. The cold air pricks at your sweat covered skin and immediately you get goosebumps from the sensation. When you look up you see him standing over the mattress with his arms crossed, his gaze boring into your features, and you roll out of bed with a sigh. You feel nauseous as you follow him to the dining room but you don’t argue. However, the blood in your skin does start to boil. 

Who the fuck is he to tell you what you can and can’t do? He’s already locked you up in this house, killed someone in front of you, and controlled just about every movement since you’ve ended up here. Is he going to dictate your whole meal plan too? God, you’re seething. 

But you also know he’s right. That’s what infuriates you. Your physical ailments are just a manifestation of your trauma and your psyche, and maybe you have been letting them consume you for the past 24-hours, but that is your absolute right to do so. It chills you that he pays close attention to your each and every movement. 

You think back to your conversation with Woojin in the warehouse. “Chan doesn’t like in the way that normal people like. He gets infatuated. He becomes obsessed and controlling and people end up dead.” You suppress the urge to shudder. You’re not sure you want to be loved or even liked by Chan. He was a passionate, attentive lover. You can only imagine being with Chan being like that, but tenfold. 

On the other hand, you didn’t quite want to be disliked by Chan. 

Besides the lack of food in your stomach from the past day, something else makes you nauseous when you sit at the table. Felix. You shoot him a smile and despise the way that your heart squeezes when he grins back at you. At this point, you can’t deny that you feel something towards the man. You shouldn’t. You absolutely fucking shouldn’t. Despite his kind treatment, he is still in the mafia, just like everyone else here. You’ve just allowed yourself to lean into your delusion that you could be something more, that maybe there’s more behind his kind actions that meets the eye. 

You pick at your food at first. You realize it’s the first time that everyone has been here at dinner since before Woojin left. That feels like such a long time ago. Now, Lee Know is finally back, and you notice that the dynamic feels just a little bit more complete. Despite the last few days being absolutely wild, dinner conversation is just about as normal as it would be. You find yourself smiling subconsciously when jokes are cracked. And before you know it, you've eaten your whole plate. You really were hungrier than you realized. 

As you clean your plate and slide it into the trash, you run right into Felix. Literally. His warm hands find their way to your waist to steady you and you don't meet his eye. Your face warms up at the action and you turn away from him, suddenly nervous. 

“Hey,” he says, voice laced with surprise. “I haven’t seen you in a bit. You doing okay?” 

“I’m… better now, I guess. Thanks. The past few days were just…” 

“A lot?” 

“Yeah,” you reply, daring a gaze to his softening eyes, a warm brown hue. “A lot.” 

“If you’re feeling up to it, we could train some more?” he asks. His eyes are searching your face as if to confirm that you’re in a well-enough state to do so. You hope he doesn’t notice the blush that spreads over your features just from talking to him. You think back to the motel, and how his lips had gotten dangerously close to brushing against yours. You could feel his warm breath on yours, and if you had moved even just a centimeter closer you would have kissed, and there 

would have been no coming back from that. Can you trust yourself  to train with him? To not allow yourself to develop further feelings, or to act and cross that unreturnable line?

“No thanks,” you tell him as politely as you can muster. “I’m… still not feeling too well, physically. Still kind of nauseous, you know? Raincheck?” 

“Yeah, of course!” he says. It’s at this moment when you realize his hands are still on your waist from when he steadied you from your near-fall. If your face wasn’t red before, it certainly is now. Great. As if he’s realized this too, his hands fall from their place on your body and he rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “I hope you feel better! Let me know if you need anything, yeah?” 

Felix is too polite and heartfelt for his own good, you think. It’s the quality of his that catches you the most off guard, the one that makes you forget so easily that he’s supposed to be dangerous. 

As you walk back to your room, his touch a hot remnant on your waist, you try to remind yourself of all the times that Felix has proven himself to be more dangerous than he lets on. The night you escaped, for example, he threatened the men that had cornered you with a gun. Felix punching Woojin in the nose after he touched you, another example. Then there’s the night he brought you to the hotel. He had shown up with blood covering his white stained suit, though you had never asked about it. So yes, he has proven himself to be a dangerous, strong man. Why hasn’t that deterred your heart from yearning after him, though?

You sigh once you’ve returned to your room. You realize that you will need to get a new book from Hyunjin. You decide to put that off for now, however, and opt to leave the room. You know you will need to shower the sweat off of your clammy skin from your excessive sleep anyway, so you might as well go to the gym while you’re at it. Without Felix, this time. You almost feel bad that you lied and decided to go to the gym without him, but it’s not for lack of a good reason. You pick out a pair of clothes from your wardrobe that are loosely-fitting, easy for movement, and throw your hair up into a ponytail. 

On your way to the gym, however, you realize there’s something that doesn’t feel right. A nagging feeling in your stomach. It’s at this time that you find yourself seeking out Chan, walking to his room for the first time since you moved in. There’s much you need to talk about, and it’s probably best to do so alone. 

The door at the very end of the hall. It’s the only one besides Chan’s office that is characterized with a big metal deadbolt, almost comical in nature. Before you can plant a seed of doubt in yourself, you’re rapping on the door three times, hard. You don’t realize that it’s already late to begin with, so you hadn’t considered the option that he might be asleep until you’re met with silence. Hesitantly you turn around putting pressure on the balls of your feet to walk away before you hear a click, the door creaking open. Your heart beats fast for a second, and you’re met with the sight of Chan before you can consider running away. 

He looks at you, confused. He obviously was not expecting you to be on the other side of the door. You wonder if he was expecting Hyunjin instead. You notice that he’s freshly showered, his dark hair falling in messy curls around his head and this kind of throws you off guard. In front of you, Chan has only ever looked neat and put-together, hair straightened and meticulous in his appearance. Even when he found you in the abandoned warehouse, he looked the embodiment of perfection, still in his suit from the gala. To see him in something so casual, sweats and a loose t-shirt after dinner… You almost forget for a second that the man in front of you is Bang Chan, one of the most dangerous men in the country, leader of the mafia. Almost. 

You clear your throat. “We need to talk,” you say. You feel triumphant for once, that you’re the one taking him by surprise, that you’re the one with the upperhand, but that’s all forgotten when he opens his door wider and invites you into his room. 

Well. You weren’t exactly expecting that. But you clear your throat and follow him inside. 

The first thing you notice about Chan’s room is how large it is. It makes sense, really, that the leader of the mafia would have the largest room in his own house. You’re sure there’s a reason why it was deadbolted shut, that there’s things in here that aren’t meant for just anyone to see. 

His bed is king-sized, placed in the middle of the room thoughtfully with a black duvet. The whole room matches, really, dark mahogany hardwood floors and black furniture. Even the walls, though sleek and elegant in feel, give a more gloomy yet modern feel. It’s very minimalist, you notice, no picture frames or paintings hung on the walls, though that feels very on brand for the man in front of you. 

Chan motions for you to sit on his bed. You do, trying to hide your hesitation, crossing your legs as you watch the man cross the room. He stands in front of you, arms crossed and looking down at you where you sit. Mindlessly, you smooth your hands over the duvet, neatly made and cold to the touch and probably more expensive than anything you’ve ever owned. 

“Yes?” He asks. He has a blank expression on his face and you curse yourself momentarily for being unable to identify what he’s thinking, but then you remember why you’re here. 

“Right,” you say. “I wanted to talk.” You take a deep breath and try to calm your nerves. 

He makes a noncommittal gesture with his hand, as if to say ‘so talk, then. What are you waiting for?’ 

“The gala,” you gulp. “That was… um, a lot, obviously. It’s just…” you try to think about where to even start and how to phrase what you had to say without offending him. As much as you want to curse him out, then and there, offending the man that is currently guaranteeing your safety probably isn’t the most wise decision. “Before we went inside, I told you about how nervous I was to see Jungwon. And you said… you promised that nothing was going to happen to me. I just can’t help but wonder, Chan. Was it a lie? Did you hand me over to them as a tactic? I know I don’t mean much to you guys, and at the end of the day you really have no reason to protect me. I just… I don’t want to think that you lied, but–”

“That’s enough.” When you meet his gaze you see how utterly pissed off he is. Shit. The words had spilled out of your mouth faster than you intended, but to be fair you had the right to know. Had he intentionally put your life in danger for the sake of getting his revenge on Jungwon? It really hadn’t come to your mind until now, but once the thought infiltrated your brain you couldn’t get it to leave. “I don’t fucking lie, Y/N,” he practically spits at you. “I thought you would know by now that I value honesty and loyalty above all else. What happened at the gala, as much as I hate to admit it, was out of my control. We should have prepared for it, but when we saw Woojin was there things got out of hand fast. The safety of one of my team members was in danger, so my priority was ensuring Minho’s safety. I hate feeling powerless. I fucking hate it, that they had the upper hand on us, but I thought that I made it perfectly clear after you got taken that they were going to pay for what they did to you.” 

You nod your head, solemnly. “I’m sorry, I just–”

He shushes you sharply. You can tell he’s not finished speaking and he’s still full of irritation so you let him continue. “I don’t want to hear you say that we have no reason to protect you. That’s bullshit and we both know it. Sure, at first, the only reason you were allowed to stay with us was so we had the upper hand on Yang Jungwon. But I think you and I both realize that you’re something more to us now. Something more to me,” he says. “Jungwon is dead now. I protected you. Give me a chance to protect you again, Y/N. Let me kill Lee Heeseung and show you that you’re safe, and that you belong here. Nobody will ever hurt you again,” he ensures. 

His words send a shiver down your spine. His words are so blunt and to the point, and if you weren’t listening carefully you would have almost missed the confession laced between his words. It scares you, this overprotective and controlling aspect of the man in front of you, the one who watches your every move. Chan, who makes sure you’re eating and taking care of yourself, Chan who loves too deeply, Chan who will make sure that nobody will ever lay a hand on you again. 

You don’t know what to say. It’s overwhelming, and unease settles in your gut. “He’s dead,” is what you settle on, surprising even yourself. 

“He is,” Chan agrees. “I’m not going to apologize for it.” 

“I didn’t ask for you to,” you reply. “It’s just… does it get any easier?” 

“Seeing the dead bodies?” he clarifies. You shake your head. 

“Losing the people that you love,” you say just above a whisper. You know he hears you. He grimaces. 

“I don’t know,” he confesses. “I haven’t… I haven’t loved in a very long time. And I don’t intend to lose anybody anytime soon.” 

The two of you sit in silence for a moment. His words sit heavy in the air, swirling around before falling heavily upon your shoulders. You look at him with a grimace to match. 

“I’ve been having nightmares,” you admit. 

“You’ll be okay.” He reaches his hand out to guide you up, off of the bed. You take it, standing, trying not to think about how he invalidated your statement. You’re not sure what you expected from him but it leaves a sour taste in your mouth. Your brain flashes to Felix, a day or two prior that comforted you in the motel bed as sobs racked through your body. Felix, who let you lay your head on his chest as he soothed you to sleep and actually made you feel like everything would be okay. You shake the thought from your head. Chan is not Felix. 

With a small smile you acknowledge the man and thank him. He surprises you when he brings you in for a hug, your head resting on his shoulder. He smells vaguely of rain, you think, though you think the man is more befitting of a storm, angry and all-consuming. You push yourself weakly out of his grasp, muttering a small ‘goodnight’ as you leave the room. 

You can hear the deadbolt click behind you and you let out a shuddering breath. You can’t help the way your skin pricks up at Chan’s every touch, though the man also leaves you feeling uneasy. 

It’s time for you to go to the gym. 

With an exasperated sigh, that’s where you end up. It’s late at night now, so you don’t expect anybody to be here when you arrive but someone is. You hear them grunting and breathing heavy before you see them, and you almost turn around and head back to your room before you change your mind. 

You need to relieve your stress right now. 

You never thought you would be the person to say that, let alone use working out as an outlet for your stress, but here you are. The last few weeks of your life would bring most people to the brink of madness, after all, so if going to the gym and finally becoming strong was your new coping mechanism, fuck it. 

You swing open the door and try not to make eye contact. Please don’t be Felix, you think. I don’t think I can emotionally deal with that situation right now. 

It seems luck is in your favor, for once, as Changbin is the one that turns around when you enter. You give him a small smile, as you are feeling pretty relieved to see him. 

You don’t spare him a second glance, however, as you turn on the treadmill and start running. You wish you had a phone in moments like these, a way that you could listen to music so that you could just turn your brain off. Felix would always play music off his phone when you went to the gym together. Fuck! If your brain could stop thinking about Felix for one moment, his flowery-yet-musky smell and his beautiful, fair hair and fae-like features, things would be so much easier for you. 

“Dude,” you hear. “You good?” 

You almost stumble on the treadmill, slamming the stop button to turn around and glare at the man behind you. 

“What?” you say, more venomous than deserved. 

“You okay?” he repeats himself. A thick layer of sweat coats his skin, and you notice the ridiculous amount of weight he has set on the barbell. Makes sense. As the bodyguard of the group, he is ridiculously in shape. You must be stupid or blind to not admire the muscles he has likely put a lot of time into. “You’re like, slamming your feet into the treadmill and you’ve been sprinting for a good 15 minutes.” He’s right. You hadn’t even noticed how effortlessly you had run almost two miles. 

“I’m fine,” you sigh. Neither of you seem convinced. 

“You seem pissed,” he points out. 

“I am pissed,” you finally agree. So much for being elusive and shoving away your feelings. It doesn’t take much for you to cave. “It’s been a long couple of days.” 

“I can imagine,” he sympathizes. “What can I do to help?” His words take you by surprise, as he seems genuine in offering his help. You ponder his question as you try and catch your breath. 

“Spar with me?” You ask, finally. You’re not too sure you want to go to Felix about this anymore. 

“I can do that,” he replies with a smile. 

After wrapping your hands up and getting ready, you take a defensive stance. Changbin looks like he’s been taken by surprise. 

“What?” you question, confused by his reaction. 

“Nothing,” he answers quickly. “It’s just… your form is good! I thought I would have to teach you some of the basics.” 

You preen a little at the compliment. Your form is actually good? That means your hard work is paying off! “I’ve been practicing with Felix,” you admit. 

A look of realization flashes over him. “Ohhhhh,” is all he says in response. “Are you ready?” You grunt in approval. 

Changbin does not go easy on you, to your surprise. He immediately goes on the offense, attacking with hit after hit. He’s not using his full strength, thankfully as you probably can’t take it just yet, but the man is fast. It’s also interesting to see how different his fighting style is from Felix’s, though you notice some similarities. 

Like how he plants his feet firmly after each right hook. Like how he leaves his left side open and unprotected after he bends his leg to connect his knee to your abdomen. He isn’t expecting your kick or the force behind it and it knocks him backwards. He regains his balance quickly and doesn’t completely fall, much to your chagrin, though the look of shock that crosses his features tells you all you need to know. You’re starting to get good. 

“You’re observant,” he points out. “That’s really good. That will make up for your lack of strength. Fighting is equal parts brain and brawn, you know. You’re good at using your brain to your advantage.” You remember that Changbin is one of the best fighters in the house other than Felix so you don’t take his praise for granted. 

“Thanks,” you say. “You’re strong, you know.” 

“So I’ve been told,” he laughs. “It’s a part of the job. I haven’t always been like this, though.” You try to think about a younger Changbin, weak and scrawny and you almost laugh at the thought. There’s no way. 

“Any reason why you decided to bulk up? Besides the job, obviously. It’s just, your physique isn’t something that someone would get for the sake of a job,” you smile. 

“What can I say,” he shrugs. “I had people to protect. I was weak and people took advantage of that, so I became strong. I wanted to become feared, let people know not to mess with me or the people I love, and what better way to do that than to look the muscular, intimidating part?” You ponder his words, not missing it when he said he had people to protect. You wonder where they are now. You wonder how he got here, even, but you don’t ask. You think there’s a lot more to Changbin that meets the eye. “Are you done already?” He asks after a beat. 

“No, I don’t think so,” you say, changing the subject. “Felix was starting to work with me on self-defense tactics to get out of a restrictive hold. Can you help me?” He quirks his brow in surprise. “Shouldn’t Felix help you, then?” 

You shrug your shoulders. “I’m not here with Felix right now, I’m here with you.” 

“Fair enough,” he mutters. You give him a small grin. Somehow, your stress has melted off of you in waves and you’ve almost forgotten what has gotten you so worked up in the first place. Changbin does a good job of making sure your focus is entirely on him, no distractions evident when he pulls you into a chokehold from behind. It’s not tight or malicious, but effective in its purpose as a demonstration. “This is one of the most common restrictive holds,” he explains. “Tell me, when I pull you in from behind and my hands are wrapped around your neck, what is your first instinct?” 

“To try to pry your hands away from my neck,” you respond. 

“Good,” he praises. “That’s what you want to avoid. Think about my body, behind you right now. What do you have open? What do I have open that you can attack?”

You mull his words over for a second, becoming hyper-aware of his body behind you. If both of his arms are around your neck, that means his torso is free. You could easily swing an elbow back and try to make contact with his ribs. Thinking about a previous lesson with Felix, you consider the more vulnerable areas of the body. The face, the neck, and the groin. 

“My legs are free,” you answer. “I could swing up a leg from behind and hit you in the groin.”

“That’s right,” he says. “Anything else?” 

“Your face? If I swing my head back hard enough, I should be able to smack you right in the nose. That’s enough to throw anyone off guard.” 

“Are you sure you even need me to show you how it’s done?” he teases. “Let’s practice now.” 

You’re not sure how long you and Changbin spend in the gym, but you feel thoroughly spent by the time you’re through. Your muscles ache, you’re dripping with sweat, and you’re out of breath so you decide to call it a night. As you leave, you have a lingering question you decide to share with Changbin. 

“What do you know about knives?” you ask. 

“Knives?” he questions, his brows furrowing and causing a crease to form on his forehead. 

“Yeah, knives,” you respond. “Daggers, blades, stabbing–” 

“I know what you’re talking about, smartass,” he interrupts. “Just… why?” 

“I’ve been thinking about learning how to use a weapon,” you explain. 

“Yeah, I don’t think knives or blades are a good idea, then,” he tells you. 

“What? Why not?” you all but shout. “I thought I was making some serious progress!” 

“I’m not denying that,” he argues. “Your skill definitely exceeds what I would consider a beginner, and that’s amazing given how little time you’ve had. It’s just that knives make for a horrible beginner weapon. For one, you need to get close and personal with your target. That’s not ideal; if you hesitate, they can easily overpower you and stab you instead. Second, stabbings are messy. You can’t half-ass shoving a knife into someone–you have to do it with as much force as you can and into a vital spot. If you’re using a knife to protect yourself, you need to do it with the intent to kill. Best case-scenario, you’ll need to stab them multiple times in order to really do some damage. Not to doubt your capabilities, but do you really think you can do that?”

You blanche. You suppose he does have a point there. 

“You’re better off learning how to use a gun. Sure, if you’re really in a pinch a knife will do the trick, but you’re better off shooting and giving yourself the opportunity to run. That stamina you’ve been building up doesn’t have to be for show, you know.” 

“So you’ll teach me how to use a gun?” you question, trying not to seem too hopeful. 

“Me? God no,” he laughs a little too loudly. “I prefer to use these as my weapons,” he says, flexing his biceps and kissing them to further prove his point. You can’t help the laugh that escapes your chest at his actions. “If you want to talk to someone who knows guns and weapons, you’re probably better off talking to Jisung about them. He knows a little bit about everything. Plus, he definitely has the best aim. He’s your man,” he tells you, closing the door to the gym behind him. He wishes you a goodnight and leaves you in the hallway. You decide it’s too late to talk to Jisung about it now, and instead decide to grab a cup of water from the kitchen. 

As you reach the cabinet to grab a glass, you see a shadowy figure that nearly has you dropping the glass and jumping out of your skin. 

“Fuck!” you whisper-shout, clutching your chest. As your eyes adjust to the light switch that has just been flipped on, you’re met face-to-face with Seungmin. 

“Hey,” he greets nonchalantly. 

“You scared me,” you accuse. He shrugs his shoulders as if to say, ‘whatever, not my fault.’ You’re reminded of the fact that you haven’t exactly had ample opportunity to talk to the man. He’s just sort of been around. 

You turn on the faucet and fill up your cup, trying to even out your breathing. 

“He’s going to be upset, you know,” he says. He sips on his own cup of water, staring at the floor and for a second you’re sure you misheard. Did he actually just speak to you?

“Who?” you question. 

“Felix,” he answers without missing a beat, like it’s obvious. 

“What? Why would Felix be mad?” The stress and anxiety has already come back, bubbling inside your chest. 

“You went to the gym without him,” he says. “With someone else, actually.” Confusion spreads across your features. So… not only does he know that you were just at the gym with Changbin, but he’s also aware of the fact that you’ve been practicing with Felix? How does he know so much!? You scoff and turn around, water in hand as you pay him no mind.  

“Felix can be quite jealous,” he adds as you leave the room. You roll your eyes. 

The world seems to be plotting your demise, you think. Of course you run into Felix on your way back to your room, spilling your water on him in the process. 

“Shit,” you cry, face flushing up in the process. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to–”

“It’s fine,” he says. “No worries.” You don’t look at him and push past politely, trying to open your bedroom door when he calls after you. 

“You went to the gym,” he says. It’s not a question, merely a statement that he has observed. 

“I did,” you confirm. You think about Seungmin’s words and consider leaving it at that, but you decide to try to confirm his statement. “Changbin was just helping me spar.”

You hide a smirk when you notice Felix freeze. “You went… with Changbin?” he asks, distaste laced in his voice. 

“Yes,” you say, deciding to push him further. “Is there a problem with that?” 

“Not at all,” he says, feigning a smile. “I’ll take it you’re feeling better, then?” 

Right. You had told him that you were still feeling ill, so it probably comes across as rude to turn around and immediately go with someone else. 

“I tried to rest,” you tell him. “Sorry. I was feeling antsy and didn’t want to bother you. Changbin just happened to be there.” You don’t want to tell him that you really didn’t want to spar because the thought of close proximity to Felix made your heart flutter against your better judgment. 

“I see,” he nods his head in affirmation. “Next time, feel free to come and get me. You know where my room is, right?” You realize you don’t know where his room is, and he must recognize your hesitation. “Look–I’m three doors down. Do you see that white door on the right side of the hall? That’s me, so next time make sure you come and get me, okay?” You confirm that you will and you close your door, slumping up against it as it shuts. 

He did get jealous. Maybe Seungmin is more observant than you had realized. 

You fall asleep quite fast after your shower. That ugly feeling you worked so hard to work off earlier remains stagnant in your gut but you do a good job of ignoring it. You sleep through the night, body sore but full of food and content with the progress you’ve been making. You don’t have any nightmares, though your sleep is interrupted in the morning by a rapping on the door. 

It’s daytime by now, evident by the light shining through your windows but you still groan nonetheless, swinging your legs over the bed and letting your body carry you to the door. Swinging it open, you’re surprised to see Jisung standing on the other end of the door. Wearing a blue and brown striped sweater with large, thick-rimmed glasses, he looks very domestic which catches you off guard. 

“Morning,” he says with a smile. 

“Morning…?” you answer back, stretching into a yawn and rubbing sleep from your eyes. 

“I came to get you for breakfast,” he says. “Chan sent me.”

“Of course, Chan sent you,” you say with a sigh. “Give me one moment.” You close the door behind you, getting ready by changing into more presentable clothes and washing your face. You brush your hair back and suppress a yawn, thinking that coffee might do you some good. Opening the door again, you see that Jisung has waited for you. 

Walking to the kitchen together, you decide to talk to the man. “I have been meaning to ask you something,” you tell him. 

“Oh?” he asks, eyes shooting open and mouth widening into a small ‘o’ shape. He looks reminiscent of a chipmunk and it’s quite endearing–you find yourself wanting to run your fingers through the curly locks on his head that further drives the image. 

“Yes, Changbin was telling me that you might be able to show me how to use a gun?” you ask, trying not to sound too hopeful. 

“Absolutely,” he says. You try not to look too surprised–that’s it? He’s not going to ask why or what for? “Want to stop by my room after breakfast?” 

“It might be closer to lunch, but that would be great!” you tell him. You actually have a busy morning planned out: a meeting with Hyunjin to pick out a new book, and training with Felix. You feel hopeful now, though, that on top of all this strength and stamina you’ve been building up, you won’t be so defenseless after all. 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Your plans get foiled pretty quickly, as Felix tells you he can’t help you train today. He’s getting sent out with Hyunjin and Seungmin for a mission, one that he can’t fully disclose to him. You don’t give him any signal that you’re slightly relieved, unsure how to deal with all the tension that’s been building up. 

But that also means that you won’t get a chance to visit Hyunjin for your book. So, Jisung it is. After breakfast he’s kind enough to lead you to his room, seeing as you weren’t exactly sure where it was anyway. 

You’re not super surprised to see that his room is messy, as you sort of get that vibe from him that it would be. Piles of clothes are strewn about, some water bottles and dishes piled on his bedside table. He opens up a large wooden armoire with no clothes in it, instead filled with a large metal safe. He takes a moment to make sure you aren’t looking before inputting a code, the metal door whirring and swinging open. 

Guns. Lots of them, though you probably couldn’t identify which kinds there are, there are many of varying lengths and sizes. Some look more expensive while others are covered in grime and rust. 

You sit and watch as Jisung explains the very basics of even using a gun, including how to load it, how to hold it, and what not to do with it. He tells you to always act like a gun is loaded, even if you know it isn’t; you should also never aim it at someone unless you’re doing so with the intent to shoot at them. He talks for a bit about basic shooting techniques, as well as how to handle the recoil of a gun after shooting it with a good-enough stance. You honestly feel like your head is about to explode from this overload of information but you’re grateful for it nonetheless; you definitely feel like you know more than enough about how to shoot after your conversation with him. 

“You’re smart,” you tell him. “You know so much about guns. That’s awesome.” 

He blinks at you owlishly. “I guess so! I wouldn’t call myself smart. I’m useful. Minho’s always been the smart one,” he laughs. “When you have nothing good going for ya, you kind of have to find a way to the top. Make yourself useful somehow. I’m not book-smart, so this? This is what I’m good at. It’s all I’m good at.”  The statement settles uneasily in your stomach. This is all he thinks he’s good for? Nobody has ever told him otherwise? That can’t be right. That’s probably how he ended up here and your heart squeezes, but before you can pry further or refute his claims, he’s speaking again. “So, did I do a good job? You think you sort of understand what you’re working with now?” 

“I’m more of a hands-on learner,” you explain to him. “Is there any way I can practice shooting?” 

“Oh yeah, for sure!” Jisung exclaims. The two of you walk outside and you see the makeshift shooting range he has set up. He sets up a stack of cans on a table and guides you to stand about twenty feet back. 

He presses the gun into your hands, cold and foreign to you even though you just sat through his entire demonstration. You have half the mind to think he’s far too trusting of you, but you know realistically he could disarm you faster than you have the mind to aim and pull the trigger at him. 

He walks through the basics with you again, showing you exactly how to stand and posture yourself. He makes you unload and reload the gun a few times as well, that way you’re comfortable and familiar with the mechanics of it. 

You miss the first few times. Maybe the first twenty times you shoot. But Jisung is surprisingly a really good teacher–constantly correcting you or giving you helpful feedback. The first time you hit a metal can, you practically shriek with joy. 

You hang out with Jisung for a few hours. By the end of it, your ears are ringing despite the earplugs he encouraged you to wear, and your arms are worse for wear after holding the weapon. 

You take a nap at about 4pm but wake up in time for dinner. You’re hungry due to the exertion of the day and you decide to indulge yourself at dinner, eating more than your share. If Chan notices he doesn’t say anything. 

That night you hear when Seungmin and Hyunjin return from their mission. You listen for the low timbre of Felix’s voice but you don’t hear it. You want to see him, you decide, only for your peace of mind. You come up with the excuse of wanting to train despite it being a bit late and your body still sore from your earlier activities, but your body carries you down the hall to the white door only three doors down. Your knuckles wrap softly against the wood and you shift nervously from side to side waiting for his answer. 

When Felix opens the door you find yourself blinking and ogling. His hair is sweaty against his skin, pulled up into a messy half-up half-down ponytail. He dons a white tank top, showing off his beautifully well-built arms. 

“Y/N?” he questions. He leans against the doorframe, tilting his head to the side to look at you. “What’s up?”

“I… uh, I was wondering if you wanted to train? Me? Train with me?” you say, stumbling over your words. He cracks a small grin. 

“I’m not feeling the best at the moment and I was hoping I could rest for a bit, if that’s okay. Rain check our rain check?” You nod, looking him up and down before you realize something–he’s clutching his side. 

Felix moves his body slightly out of sight so that you can’t see but you push into his room. He doesn’t stop you. 

“Felix, what’s wrong? Show me,” you demand. Sighing in defeat, he lifts his hand away from the spot on his side. You notice the blood seeping through the fabric, staining his hand when he pulls it away. “Felix, what the fuck? Is that your blood?” 

“Don’t freak out… but I may or may not have gotten stabbed.” 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

a/n: next mini-member chapter this wednesday, and it's one of my favorite ones so far hehe (sorry about the cliffhanger)

taglist: @shuporanporang ; @purp13st4r ; @eurydiceofterabithia ; @heartsbyandra ; @thicccurls ;

@rylea08 ; @the-sweetest-rose ; @oddracha ; @kapelover ; @goldenmellow ;

@zerefdragn33l ; @uhh-awkward-rightt ; @astudyoftimeywimeystuff ; @kaleigh-2002 ; @thatonexcgirl ;

@mindfreecreator ; @linoalwaysknows ; @velvetmoonlght ; @minahaeyo ; @crystalchuuu ;

@hash2013 ; @skzswife ; @b0bbl3s ; @thecutiepieme ; @bear8585 ;

@moss-the-man ; @softkisshyunjin ; @sylveonitesworld ; @m00njinnie ; @nicoleparadas ;

@starsofasteria ; @klopez01 ; @luvlinos ; @hyunjinnnnnnnnnnnnnn ; @skz-akira ;

@boi-bi-ahaha ; @l33bang24 ; @hermione640 ; @gal82 ; @b-chansbbygirl ;

@kayleefriedchicken ; @notsojourni ; @hogwartslife64 ; @stilltrynafuckingtumble ; @ellelabelle ;

@melleus ; @hyun-bun ; @luminouskalopsia ; @leftovercigarettes ; @sabrina-gal-kpop

@ghostedgameplays ; @wealwayskeepfighting ; @meloncremesoda ; @Lovelino23 ; @honeyybbuubblleess ;

@blossominghunnie ; @sunlitangel777 ; @kkamismom12 ; @slaykanejvetsi ; @eastleighsblog ;

@skzskzskzskzskzskzskzzzz ; @k-keya ; @moonlight-sunrise-channie ; @estella-novella

@mbioooo0000 ; @lovemepie67 ; @lemonn015 ; @jaeminie-cricket ; @cookiesandcreammy

[joonsmagicshop]

Stress Relief Series Part 7- JHS

Summary: A couple months ago Taehyung asked a favor. For you to have sex with his bandmates to relieve some tension and stress. How can you say no to that.

Paring: Hoseok/Reader (all members are mentioned)

Rating: M/18+

Word Count: 5k

Tags: smut, FWB, jerking off, eating pussy, dry humping, hobi's hands (cause come on that mans hands...oof) fingering, anxious hobi, dancer teacher hobi, taetae and hobi sweet moment, penetrative sex

Authors Note: Hobi!!!!! I had so much fun writing this one but the fact that the next chapter will be the last chapter is very bittersweet. This series will always hold a special place in my heart and even though I am excited to finish it off with my bias....I also don't want it to end

In case you missed it

Intro Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

“Taehyung you were supposed to move on five not six.”

“Namjoon you need to move in a wider circle so you don’t bump into Jungkook”

“Jimin can you please help me explain these steps.”

“No Yoongi we aren’t taking a break until we get this right so stop scrolling through your phone.”

Jung Hoseok was at his wits end and it was only Tuesday. He watched as the other members started arguing amongst themselves, not bothering to pay him any mind or the dance cues he had been trying to give them for the last ten minutes

It was only two weeks out from the opening night of their tour and everything had to be perfect. Hoseok knew very well that his bandmates were perfectionists like he was but they all seemed to be a little burnt out from all the prep for the tour and therefore a lot more wasting time was happening.

“Okay okay!” Jimin shouted as Taehyung carried him in his arms around the dance studio, giggling while the others watched fondly.

“We should get back to work before Hobi Hyung has steam coming out of his ears!” Jimin shouts between giggles as Taehyung finally puts him down and they start elbowing each other and laughing behind their hands.

Meanwhile, Jungkook was sitting on the floor with Namjoon pulling out his phone and showing him a video that had Namjoon smiling fondly at the youngest member.

Hoseok looked around to see that Yoongi and Jin had completely disappeared and right as he was about to ask where the hell they went the door burst open and Jin announced very loudly that they had ordered food and it was going to arrive in ten minutes.

Which had everyone cheering loudly and Taehyung scooping Jimin up once more to twirl him around as they both laughed.

Hoseok didn’t know when this impromptu break happened but he was going to put a stop to it. They had to get this dance right and only had two weeks to do it, and while ninety percent of the time they did get it perfect there was still a small chance they could mess it up, like today.

Hoseok clapped his hands to get everyone's attention but it seemed only Yoongi heard and he quickly paled when he saw the look on Hoseok’s face.

Pure frustration

And no one liked a frustrated dance teacher

Yoongi nudged Jin and with just one single look the room seemed to quiet down as they all stared at Hoseok.

“Good now can we go over this again and can you actually listen to me this time? We have to get this right and we only have two weeks to do so.” He said with his hands on his hips as they all stared at him.

“Hoseok relax we have this. Today was just a small accident. I had a misstep and Namjoon didn’t go wide enough. We are okay. You don’t have to do the scary dance teacher face.” Taehyung explained as Jimin giggled from behind his hands.

“Well, Taehyung it seems someone has to. You all are goofing off or texting and I’m the only one caring about this routine. I’m so tired of you guys messing up all the time!” He nearly shouts feeling his frustration bubble over.

Hoseok is hardly ever a yeller so when he raises his voice everyone knows something is very wrong

Namjoon stands up first and holds out a hand to Taehyung who is about to open his mouth and retort.

“No Taehyung no arguing. We all had a nice dinner last night and all got along and we are not starting this again. We are a team and Hoseok is right. After we eat we are going to perfect this dance. I know we just want this tour to start and to get to the fun parts but we have to do this first. We all know the prep is the worst part so please no more fighting.” Namjoon says as the room grows quiet and the only sound is the ticking clock above the wall of mirrors.

“Foods here,” Yoongi mumbled checking his phone as they all stood up and slowly began to filter out of the room.

Yoongi patted Hoseok’s arm and muttered an apology as he left, the others hung their heads and avoided his piercing gaze as they walked past him to get to the delicious food that was waiting.

Jungkook was second last to leave and he stared up at Hoseok with his big dark eyes and apologized before dropping his gaze and leaving.

That alone made Hoseok feel worse.

Taehyung finally walked up to Hoseok and stood in front of him, fluffy hair all messed up, teeth biting into his lip.

Hoseok crossed his arms.

“I’m sorry about the dance mess up, I’m also sorry I was goofing off with Jimin so much Hoseok. You know how is it. Things get too much and I just wanted to make everyone smile. I didn’t mean to make you upset. Honest.” He says shyly a Hoseok pulls him in for a hug.

He can feel Taehyung smiling against his shoulder when they embrace and when he finally releases Tae he has a silly grin on his face.

“I don’t mean to be a hard ass it’s just. You know how it is.” Hoseok says, knowing his apology isn’t the greatest but he’s starting to feel the weight of all the other things they have to perfect and get done before the tour and his whole body just felt tired and heavy.

“I know how it is. That’s why I have Y/N. Honestly, she keeps me sane.” Taehyung explains heading over to the table that was set up in the corner to retrieve his sweater.

“Don’t you just have sex with her? How can that take away all this…ya know.” Hoseok asks waving his arm around as if showing Tae all the other stress he has.

Taehyung just laughs and pulls the sweater over his head messing up his hair even more.

“Well yes but also. You know. She’s a companion. We have dinner, we talk, we hang out. I just don’t fuck her and leave. I mean. I used to but now I’d say she’s a friend. I trust her. The other guys do too. I know Namjoon doesn’t like it and he doesn’t have to. He’s going to crack soon enough I can feel it. Nothing is as stressful as being our leader.” He explains as he looks in the mirror to fix his hair and Hoseok stays frozen in place watching him.

“The position we are in, the life we chose. It’s not easy. Y/N is like a vacation after a very long work week. It’s someone I can be myself around. And not just me. Jungkook and I have talked about it too. She’s just…that person you know.” Taehyung says finally getting his hair the way he wants it and staring at Hoseok through the mirror.

“Namjoon’s going to kill you if he hears you talking about her. I’m not sitting through another one of his lectures.” Hoseok says rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, I know. I’m not trying to convince you or anything. She already said she’s there if we need it and if not…” He let his voice trail off and he shrugged as the door burst open and Namjoon stood there.

“Okay, you didn’t kill each other? Good. Now please come eat before Jungkook takes it all. I already had to swat his hand twice because he was grabbing too much and not saving any for you This kid I swear. He’s going to give me wrinkles.” Namjoon explains as he leaves down the hall and Taehyung shoots Hoseok a knowing smile.

“Told ya. Namjoon is stressed.”

The next day Hoseok had off from work.

He woke up later than usual and spent a long time in bed just scrolling through his phone. He let the sunlight fall over his naked torso as he lay there, not bothering to get up and close the curtains as the beams of sunlight crept up his body and eventually rose to illuminate the walls above him.

Once he got out of bed and went to the bathroom he made his way to the kitchen to have some food. His house was very spacious and very quiet at this time of day and Hoseok drank in the calmness as he ate his food.

The day dragged on and around dinner time he found himself restless.

He wasn’t sure what was wrong but he knew something was wrong.

He paced room to room trying to look for something that would entertain him. He grabbed a book and then put it down. He tried to cook dinner instead of ordering but gave up. He paced back and forth from the front foyer to the bedroom.

He turned on some music but couldn’t find something that he liked.

Eventually, he flopped on the bed and stared at the ceiling.

The sun was starting to set casting everything in a vibrant orange glow and Hoseok took out his phone to take some pictures of the way the sun hit everything just right.

He also took some selfies smiling as the sun highlighted his beauty

He sent the shots to Namjoon, minus his selfies, locked his phone, and threw it on the bed beside him.

Namjoon would love those pictures because nature always calmed him down.

And Namjoons stress was reaching an all-time high lately with all the pressure he had as their leader.

Hoseok thought back to what Taehyung had said yesterday about how Namjoon would crack soon and he felt terrible. He didn’t need to add to the stress by yelling at them yesterday. Even though he did apologize at lunch he still felt guilty.

Hoseok’s long fingers aimlessly ran across his collarbones as he let his thoughts spiral. He knew he had been too hard on everyone yesterday but the whole thing was just so frustrating.

His hands continued to wander as he tried to memorize the dance steps in his mind. Usually that helped with his spiraling thoughts and he let his hands wander up and down his sides, caressing himself as he did so.

Hoseok was so lost in his thoughts and in trying not to let them spiral he hardly noticed just his touches alone were making him hard in his shorts.

His cock was starting to stiffen as he lay spread out on his bed, hair a mess on his pillow as he tried to calm down the storm going on in his brain.

There was still so much to do before the tour and what if they messed up on tour and what if something bad happened like someone got sick? Army would be so disappointed and what if he messed up? He would be so embarrassed.

Hoseok felt the anxiety bubbling up and he quickly wrapped his arms around himself to give himself a much-needed hug.

He buried his face in his elbow and rolled over on his stomach to cover his face with his pillow when he felt it.

The hardness between his legs.

“Oh,” Hoseok whispered as he rolled onto his back again and stared at the impressive tent his dick was making in his pants.

He wasted no time cupping himself and a soft groan left his lips at the contact. His thoughts seemed to silence as he took his time stroking himself over his shorts. Squeezing his length when he needed to and teasing the head just right to have his hips jolting off the bed.

Hoseok quickly sat up and discarded his shirt. Letting the late day rays of sun hit his bare skin as he trailed his fingertips lightly down his chest, teasing the skin and making his hard cock throb.

When was the last time he took care of himself?

He wasn’t sure so he decided to take his time and enjoy this.

His hands ran up and down his body as he closed his eyes and let his last hookup replay in his mind. The memories were foggy as it had been so long but he was already hard so it took no time at all for his deft fingers to undo the button on his shorts and peel them off his legs.

He rubbed his bulge over his boxers and hisses at the contact. The girl he hooked up with was some brunette, right? Or was she blonde? It didn’t really matter to him as he pictured a naked sexy body on top of him.

Hoseok let out a moan as he palmed himself and added more pressure. He couldn’t picture her clearly but he could imagine her hot wet pussy sitting on his cock as she kissed down his skin.

How good it would feel to have lips on his body again

How amazing it would feel to be buried in a hot wet pussy.

Hoseok had enough of his teasing and he slipped his hand into his boxers to grip at the base of his cock. His eyes fluttered open for a moment as he pulled his boxers down, only to close his eyes again when he got comfortable.

His hand lazily stroked his cock, the precum making the whole thing glide so much easier as he let out a shaky breath and tried to imagine his last hookup.

It had been so long however that the details were fuzzy, the whole thing was fuzzy and hard to imagine and his cock was still angry and throbbing but he couldn’t come up with a good image to jerk off to.

Hoseok could try porn but he didn’t feel like spending an hour finding a good enough video for that.

He let go of his aching cock and smacked his hand on the bed in frustration. He couldn’t even jerk off properly anymore. And this was adding to the stress he already had.

Hoseok rolled over and grabbed his phone. Namjoon had responded to the pictures but Hoseok ignored those. Instead, he texted a phone number he was given two months ago, a number he told himself he would never…ever use.

The drive over was torture. Hoseok was still hard and trying to fight the guilt that was starting to burn up inside of him.

He could hear Namjoon’s lecture as clear as day as the car navigated the busy streets. Hoseok tries to block that out. Instead focusing on the fact that he was about to be with a real person and not just his hand.

The driver pulled up and Hoseok smiled at him before exiting. He purposely wore baggy pants to hide his raging hard-on that still had not gone down and throughout the drive, he kept palming himself to alleviate the ache.

You opened the door to find Hoseok standing there looking equally excited as he was terrified and you welcomed him in.

His brown hair was a mess atop his head and his heart-shaped lips were drawn into a thin worried line as he looked around, slowly placing his designer bag by his shoes at the front door.

“Hi Hoseok.” You say softly as you stand there and give him time to adjust. He looked so out of place and so nervous to be around you.

“You can call me Hobi. I mean. If you want.” He stammers and you smile as you sit on the couch and invite him over.

He sits down and plays with his long fingers not meeting your gaze.

“Hobi you seem…. stressed. Or extremely nervous. Want to talk about it?” You ask placing a hand on his knee and you smile when he seems to relax even if it’s only a small amount.

“I…I don’t know why I’m here. I’m sorry.” He says in a small voice as you rub your thumb along his knee going slow as if not to startle him.

“Okay let’s start from the beginning. Are you okay?” You ask giving him the time and space to answer

“I…I’m horny.” Hobi says finally looking at you and you smile softly at him.

“Okay…”

“I got mad at everyone yesterday because they were goofing off and not doing the dance correctly and then today I didn’t work and I think I was left alone with my thoughts for too long because now I’m all anxious and I got horny so I wanted to jerk off but I don’t even know what to jerk off too because it had been so long since I hooked up with someone and I know I shouldn’t be here but I am and I’m so hard. And now I’m dumping all my problems on a stranger oh my god.” He says running his hands through his hair and looking at you with wide eyes.

You slowly sit up on your knees on the couch and put your hands on his shoulders.

“Hobi It’s okay. It’s all okay. We can just hang out if you want a friend. Or we can do more if you are up to it. I don’t want to push you or pressure you.

“I… I don’t know what I want.” He breathes out.

“Actually, I do. I want this tour to start already. I want everyone to get along. I want all the stress and the pressure to go away and I just want to be on stage and perform. I just want this whole thing to begin. We are always happier when we see our fans” He says with a small smile on his face.

“You guys really love your fans huh.” You answer as you inch towards him and throw yourself over his lap.

His hands come up to grab at your hips and you stay far enough back that you are not directly over his cock.

“This okay?” You ask softly as Hobi nods.

“Yeah, our fans are the best in the world. And that’s why this whole thing is frustrating. I want to put on a good show for them and no one else seems to be taking it seriously!” Hobi complains as you nod and bring your hands up to his hair.

He freezes again as you tangle your hands in the hair at the back of his head and softly play with it. His eyes start to soften and he blushes.

“That feels…really good.” He breathes out.

“Good. I want to relax you. Keep talking Hobi.” You say as he smiles up at you.

“And Taehyung and Jimin kept goofing off and the whole thing was a disaster. If Namjoon just went wider with his step and Tae didn’t mess up we would have nailed it.” Hobi complains as you continue to play with the hair at the nape of his neck and hum as he speaks.

Hobi continues to pour out his frustration to you and you let him, softly stroking his hair.

Soon enough the room is dark and Hobi is quiet, resting his head on your shoulder as you move your hands to the top of his head to comb the hair back, lightly grazing his scalp with your nails.

“Thank you. Also, I’m sorry you're kind of a stranger and I just dumped a bunch of stuff out on you.” He mutters, voice muffled by the fabric of your shirt.

“Happy to help Hobi. That’s why this whole thing started. I just wanted to help. It doesn’t have to be just about sex. I’m also a friend.” You say as he lifts his head to stare into your eyes.

“That’s what Taehyung said. He said you keep him sane.”

You laugh.

“And he drives you insane. What a combination huh?”

Hobi laughs at that one and he softly stares up at you through the darkness.

“I want to kiss you is that okay?” He asks as you nod.

He sits up straighter and captures your lips with his.

His lips are oh so soft and warm against yours and you sigh into his mouth as you press your body into his chest, desperate to get him closer to you.

His hands wrap around your middle to hold you steady as he takes his time with you. His kisses are soft but also heated as you feel your core start to throb when his hands leave your middle to run up and down your thighs, getting higher with each pass and making you squirm against him.

You whine out his name when his fingers dip a little too close to your center and he smirks against your lips.

“You said you were having some trouble jerking off?” You ask voice slightly shaky as you pull back and he grins wickedly at you as if he knows just how much he is affecting you.

“Yeah, I may have said that.” He teases as his hands dip between your legs and you whine when he rubs his long index finger along the seam of your pants.

“Should I help you with that?” You ask jerking against him as he runs his finger once again along the seam of your pants. Applying more pressure this time as your wetness pools.

“How about we help each other hmm? You listened to me babble for too long I think my pretty girl should be rewarded.” He coos as you bury your face in his shoulder and grind your pussy against his finger.

“You’re going to soak your pants, baby.” He pants as you deliver sloppy kisses to his neck and collarbones.

“Gotta b-be careful you can’t mark me up right before tour.” He grits out as you push your hips forward so you are now resting comfortably on his cock which is hard once again in his pants.

“And why not?” You tease as you pull away from his neck to stare at his flushed face.

“You vixen.”

With that, he kisses you again but with so much passion it steals the very breath from your lungs. His hands tangle in your hair as he kisses you which gives your hands freedom to roam up and down the hard plane of his chest.

He moans in your mouth and you buck against him, slowly grinding against his cock giving you both the delicious friction you crave.

“God you are too good at that.” He whines out against your lips as he carefully pushes you down on the couch and throws his shirt over his head.

You are met with miles of gorgeous skin and your mouth waters when he reaches for your top to pull it off.

Your bra goes next and in an instant, he is on top of you palming and sucking your breasts as your head is thrown back against the pillow with pleasure.

“Couch or my room?” You ask breathless as he harshly sucks on your right nipple which has your hips shoving against his hard cock.

“Your room. Please god, get me to your bed.” He whines as you push him off of you and stand up on shaky legs.

You grab his hand and take him to your room and the second you are over the threshold he picks you up and throws you down on the bed.

You gasp and he wastes no time crawling up and positioning himself between your legs.

He holds one of your legs up in the air and grabs your ankle, you watch in awe as his heart-shaped lips kiss your skin slowly working their way toward your heated core.

It’s too hot, or maybe he is too hot as you fumble with your pants to rip them off your body. Hobi gets the hint and helps you take them off.

“No underwear. Fuck Y/N.” He growls as he takes in the sight of your soaked pussy.

“I wanna bury my face in there and never come back out.” He admits as you groan at his words.

He lets your leg fall as he gets off the bed to undo his pants and rip his boxers down.

You take your time staring at his naked form. He is exquisite, his body is art that you’d like to admire for a very long time.

You open your legs instinctively as he crawls between them and settles on his stomach. He stares at you with a tilt of his head and a question on the tip of his tongue.

He doesn’t even need to ask before you are pleading with him to kiss you, to touch you, to do anything to you before you lose your mind.

His hands rest on your thighs holding them down before he dips his head low to lick at your pussy. You cry out at the contact fisting the sheets below to hold yourself steady.

His tongue licks a bold stripe up your slit and you thrash against him as he flicks his tongue over your clit in such a way that you feel it throb.

Your body is on fire as he licks and sucks at your clit, his dark eyes meeting yours and you whine and cry out his name as he continues to make out with your pussy alternating between soft licks and harsh sucking which brings you close to orgasm a lot faster than you thought.

As affected as you were he was equally affected by the act. His hunger for your pussy made his cock throb and he hastily humped the bed as he buried his face deeper into your core and drank in the moans you were emitting from above him.

“Gonna-” You cried out though Hobi knew you were close.

He removed his mouth for just a moment to insert his finger into your wet heat and you cried out and arched off the bed as he rubbed your front wall just right to have you orgasm around his digit,

He quickly latched his mouth back to your pussy to drink in everything you gave him as you rode out your high and ground down on his finger.

Once you came down from your high you opened your eyes to see Hobi looked as fucked out as you felt and you giggled when you looked down to see him shamelessly humping the bed, desperate for relief.

“Fuck you are so hot. Why did I wait so long? What the fuck?” He whispers as he gets up to grab a condom.

You giggle to yourself as it seems to take a while for him to find his pants, in his haste he threw them on your dresser. Eventually, he gets out the condom and rolls it down his hard cock, and climbs back onto the bed with you.

“How do you want it?” He asks voice low as his agile fingers stroke his cock.

You can’t tear your eyes away and Hobi chuckles darkly.

He takes charge and grabs your hips as he kneels on the bed. He slowly spreads your legs and positions your pussy right in front of his cock.

“Wanna see you when I fuck you. Is this okay?” He asks softly as he takes his cock in hand and runs it through your soaked folds.

You nod and he smirks as he inserts himself inside of you slowly and carefully.

You let him take his time and bottom out. You fist at the pillow by your head to anchor you because Hobi just feels so good inside of you.

Once he bottoms out you both stare at each other breathing hard. Strands of hair are falling in front of his eyes and he looks beautiful, so incredibly beautiful.

“Hobi move.” You beg as he leans down to capture your lips in a soft kiss.

He begins to thrust in and out of you slowly and carefully, he angles his hips in such a way it has him hitting your g-spot with ease.

You feel how he moves inside of you and it makes you wetter around him. He swivels his hips and grinds down into you before pulling out and snapping back in with such force it pushes you up the bed.

Hobi fucks into you with force and passion, his hips always hitting their mark his moans mixing with yours as you both use each other to get to the high you both crave. Your hands are tangled in the pillow at your head and he licks two fingers to bring them down to play with your clit.

“H-Hobi if you want me to last you can’t. I’m serious you can’t.” You cry out when he circles your clit and flicks it in time with a harsh thrust.

“It’s okay I’m cl-close.” He whines as he thrusts up and you push your hips down trying to meet him in the middle.

Your orgasm is fast approaching and you cling to your pillow for dear life as Hobi fucks into you harder. Sweat drips off his brow and his face glistens but even through it all he still looks beautiful.

He flicks your clit again and you throw your head back and cry out his name as your orgasm hits you hard. Your pussy clamps down around his length as you ride out your high. Hobi still fucks into you and is grunting above you, his hips are moving with such speed and force you cry and squirm on the bed as he finally reaches his high and cums into the condom.

The air is thick with the smell of sex as he pulls out and gets himself cleaned up. He brings you a towel and cleans you up as well, taking his time as you try to come down from your high which seems to take a longer time than normal.

“Holy shit.” You breathe out as he flops down next to you and stares at you with a boyish grin, so different from the man that just fucked into you wildly.

“Yeah.” He agrees as he laces his fingers through yours.

You slowly get up from the bed and head to the washroom to get cleaned up. Your body feels tired but well fucked as you make your way back to the room to see Hobi already dressed and sitting on the bed.

“Want to order food? I don’t know about you but I’m hungry.” You tease as he stares at you.

“I…uh? You don’t want me to go?” He asks as you shake your head and stand between his open legs.

“Only if you want to. But I wouldn’t mind sharing a meal with you.” You tease as you peck him on the lips and grab his hands to lead him to the kitchen.

You both flip through his phone to figure out what to order and he stares at you with a small smile.

“Can I… you know text you sometime if I’m feeling stressed or worried?” He asks in a small voice as you intertwine your fingers with his and bring his hand to your mouth.

You deliver a soft kiss to the back of his hand and he blushes.

“Anytime Hobi. Call me, text me, fuck me…anytime.”

TAG LIST

@take-u-2-an0ther-w0r1d

@m00njinnie

@minghaosimp

@madebyjungkookie

@iammeandmeisiam

@allie-is-a-panda

@marihoneywk

@stayonmars

@xmspurple7x

@coffeedepressionsoup

@lerasi

@taekritimin123

@caught-in-the-afterglow

[slasherbvnnie]

Until We Found You | Part IX

And we’ve finally made it to the last chapter of Until We Found You. Fun fact, I had the first part and this one ready at the same time. I had the vision for it and you’ll see why it’s titled the way it is at the end. I really enjoyed writing this, I love it so much. Thanks to everyone who also voiced their love for it, you all are so kind and I wish you the best. Also, in true scream fashion, we had to mention psycho. For this last time, heed the tags.

Modern Day College Scream AU, Obsessed AFAB!Reader, Poly!Ghostface x reader, NSFW, All characters 18+

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI Part VII Part VIII

Word Count: 1404

”Baby come on! You’re gonna miss the movie!” Stu yelled out as he took a seat on the left side of the couch. “I’m coming, I’m coming,” you huffed out as you walked down the stairs. “if someone kept all my things where I leave them I wouldn’t be running late,” you said teasingly, hearing Stu laugh. “Oh come on baby, you know seeing makeup and hair shit scares the ladies away,” he teased as you rolled your eyes. “Careful Stu, she’ll probably choke you out if she finds out about another girl,” Billy said as he walked by you, offering you a soda which you gladly accepted, planting a kiss to his cheek as you two walked to the couch together. You sat besides Stu, Billy on your right as Stu placed a blanket over all three of you.

“So what are we watching?” You asked as you relaxed back, smiling as Billy set the popcorn bowl in your lap. “Psycho,” Billy said with a smile. “ah, going old school today? We should watch Rebecca after,” you added in as Stu smiled. “I like your thinking, doll, I was gonna say we should watch that too,” he said as he wrapped his arm around your shoulder.

You three were about half an hour into the movie, your head resting on Billy’s shoulder as you held hands with Stu. You felt his hand leave yours, making you whine in protest and look over to him. “I’m bored,” Stu said as he yawned, Billy looking over and rolling his eyes. “How about we play a game then?” He asked as you and Stu’s attention now settled on the older male. “What kind of game?” You asked as Billy smirked. “Our own kind of game, baby,” he hummed, Stu smirking as if he knew exactly what Billy was talking about. “You’re gonna let Stu play around with you, but I’m going to question you. Don’t worry, it should be easy for you baby, it’ll be all about horror movies.” He smirked, looking at you like you were about to be his prey, you cowered a little at his gaze, pushing your thighs together as you grew needy just from his look. “Awh, look at that Billy, already getting turned on for us,” Stu said as he adjusted and set you on his lap, his hands running over your clothed body as Billy moved to sit next to you two. “Easy question as a warm up baby, which character and me share the same last name?” He questioned, his breath fanning over your neck, goosebumps raising on your skin as Stu’s fingers twiddled with the hem of your shirt. “Sam…Sam Loomis…” you spoke out, looking to your side before Billy turned your head back to the tv, “eyes on the movie, baby,” he hummed, smirking as you squirmed as Stu lifted up your shirt.

“Another one, baby,” Billy whispered into your ear, it had been another half hour since they started their little game. Tears streaked down your cheeks, your skin was blushed and already bruising from their marks being left on you, and you were shaking and squirming in Stu’s lap. “Please Billy, please, Stu,” you whined out their names, trying to get away from the pleasure as they chuckled at your state. “One last question sweetheart,” Billy promised you, swiping his tongue over his lips as he looked over your exposed body. “How many different times did they film the shower scene?” He asked, his hands groping your breasts as Stu’s fingers pumped into you. “What?” You questioned as Stu smirked against your neck. “How many different takes did they have for the shower scene baby? Come on, it’s easy,” Stu said as you whined, a loud moan leaving your lips as Stu played with your clit. “90! It- It’s 90!” You exclaimed, letting out a cry when they stopped their touches. Billy tsked, shaking his head, “you were so close baby,” he said as you whined. “78 shots, all for those famous 45 seconds,” Billy hummed, smiling and kissing you before Stu pulled you away for his own kiss. “Please…please, I wanna cum…” you begged, giving them both puppy dog eyes. Stu visibly melted, now looking to Billy with the same eyes, knowing both of you might get in trouble if he didn’t get his permission. “I’m dating two needy fucks, aren’t I?” He sighed, giving you another kiss before reaching over to Stu, whispering into his ear before giving a kiss to his cheek. “You’ll cum, but only if you let both of us cum first,” Billy said to you, you nodding your head quickly. “Since I got you to myself last time, why don’t you use that pretty mouth on me while Stu plays with that pretty cunt of yours,” he said as he moved back, unzipping his jeans and pulling them down along with his underwear to his mid thigh. You moved, getting onto your hands and knees on the cushions as you crawled slightly to Billy, opening your mouth and licking his tip. A groan left his lips at the touch, his hand snaking into your hair as Stu got to work with stretching you out.

It wasn’t hard, having already been fingering you relentlessly during their game, using the slick that you were leaking to help lube you up even more. You took Billy into your mouth, holding the base of his cock with one hand while your other held your body up. Moans left your lips and vibrated through his cock as Stu played with you, little whimpers and whines helping aid to Billy’s pleasure as Stu took his fingers away. You could see through your fluttered eyelids that Billy’s head had tilted up to match Stu’s gaze, finding out why when you felt Stu push against your entrance. “So pretty f’me baby, so fucking wet,” Stu groaned as he pushed in, making you moan as your walls sucked him in further.

“God, you’re fucking sucking me in, doll,” he moaned, taking his time thrusting into you to allow you to adjust. But with the two boys who had been worked up for nearly an hour now, they were quick to use you for their release. It felt like four seconds before they began to thrust into you from both ends, you could tell they were trying to match their speed to make you delirious. You enjoyed times like these with them, when their pleasure was focused on, not that they didn’t pay attention to you, but it made your head spin when they used you freely. Stu reached one hand down between your body and the couch, circling around your clit, making you moan and arch your back in pleasure. Billy gripped your hair harder, fucking into your throat with grunts and groans leaving every other second. Stu was just as vocal, his thrusts getting sloppier with time. “Be a good girl and open that mouth wider for me, little bunny,” Billy said as he pulled out, you looked up to him with a fucked out look as you held your mouth open, feeling your sanity being ripped from you as Stu thrusted even harder into you. Billy moaned out your name as he pumped himself, cumming into your mouth and partially across your face. Stu meanwhile had one hand bruising your waist with his grip while the other played with your clit, making you moan and push against him. Stu came and slowed down his thrusts slowly, you whimpering and moaning out as his hand didn’t stop pleasuring you. “Cum for us baby, you want to be good, don’t you?” Billy asked, holding your chin up to look at him as you gave a weak nod, your moans getting more high pitched before finally climaxing, crying out as Stu helped you through your high.

“You know, I’m still kinda sad I was on your kill list,” you mumbled, cuddled between your two boyfriends on the bed, all ready to go to sleep now hours after their game. “hey, you know that was just the plan until we found you” “and before we found out you had the hots for ghostface,” Stu added after Billy, making you smile and shake your head. “whatever dorks, just go to bed already, gotta wake up early for that gale interview,” you said, smiling as you gave them both a kiss.

[withleeknow]

wishful thinking. (01)

chapter one: flutter

summary: the instruction was plain and simple: no strings attached. but you should’ve known from the beginning that it could never apply to you and him.

pairing: minho x f!reader rating: 18+ (minors dni) genre: friends to lovers, friends with benefits au, college au; fluff, angst, smut warnings: implied smut, aftercare, mentions of alcohol consumption, hints of oc being a little emotionally constipated lol, barely edited but we should all be used to seeing that from me atp word count: 2.3k note: eeeek my first lino series is here 🥺 there's not much substance in the first part bc we're mostly just setting things up. thank you to my wifeus in the obs server (you know who you are ofc) for being the best cheerleaders, bc i don't think i would've gone through with writing this fic if it wasn't for you. fwb lino probably would've had to gather dust in the attic if you hadn't encouraged me to write him. thank you and love you <3

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation › series masterpost › taglist › ko-fi

Tomorrow when it's over and we're sober I just want to believe that you'll miss me But I shouldn't 'cause we're just friends Now we're day drunk in the back seat of a taxi And you're telling me you wanna kiss me But we shouldn't 'cause we're just friends

Just Friends - Virginia to Vegas

“Minho.”

“Hmm?”

“Get off of me.”

He doesn’t, of course. Because Minho is stubborn and Minho does whatever he wants sometimes. “No,” he mumbles against your neck, pressing a soft kiss there that makes the stupid thing in your chest flutter against your will. You don’t let yourself indulge in the feeling for too long though, only a second. “You’re too warm.”

“Min,” you scold lightly, but you can’t say that you don’t enjoy having his body on yours like this. It’s different than when you’re having sex, because this is more intimate somehow, just him holding you - or rather, resting the entirety of him on top of you like the human version of a weighted blanket. Wham! Bam! Thank you, ma’am! but with a Minho-esque flare that he doesn’t have to appease you with, but chooses to anyway.

One of the reasons why you don’t let yourself relish in the moment is because intimacy isn’t what you signed up for. In fact, it’s the complete opposite of what you both agreed on. No strings attached - it was the only instruction, plain and simple.

And so you nudge his shoulder again, making him sigh and begrudgingly sit up, in all of his post-sex glory. Disheveled fluffy hair, a couple of fading marks on his neck courtesy of you, kiss-swollen lips and a kind of glow that you’re fairly certain matches your own.

“Hang on,” Minho says, I’ll get you a towel.”

He quickly throws on his boxers - previously discarded on the floor - and heads to your bathroom. He returns to your side just a couple minutes later with said item in hand, dabbing the soft cloth at your core tenderly.

“You okay?” he asks. “I wasn’t too rough on you tonight?”

You like the aftercare, and how tender he always is with you. You’re not sure if that’s the extra effort that he puts in with everyone he’s ever hooked up with, or if you two are just naturally comfortable around each other, but it’s reassuring. It’s nice to know that this agreement between the two of you hasn’t tarnished your friendship.

Yet?

Yet.

“You were perfect,” you tell him with a coy smile. “I was the one who asked for it anyway.”

Minho chuckles, then pats your bare thigh for good measure as he takes one final swipe at your core before chucking the towel into the laundry basket in the corner of your room.

He plops onto your bed again, propping himself on an elbow so he could look down at your face, highlighted only by the dim light of the small lamp on your bedside table. The way that his bicep flexes still puts you in a bit of a trance, even though you’ve seen it probably hundreds of times already.

“You know, I was pretty surprised when you asked me to try that with you,” he says, eyeing your mouth again. “Didn’t think you’d be down for experimenting new things with me.”

“Well, who else am I supposed to try things out with?”

You’re not even sure what you meant - the words just rolled off your tongue - but you don’t miss the instantaneous look of pride on his face. To hear something like that from you is clearly an ego boost for him.

You don’t miss the subtle blush that tints both of his cheeks and the top of his ears either, but you don’t dwell on it for very long.

Come to think of it, you don’t let yourself indulge in a lot of things when you’re around him.

His free hand comes up to draw imaginary patterns along your arm, starting from your shoulder, down to your elbow, then across your forearm until you could feel his fingers on the back of your hand. “I forgot to mention earlier,” he says, tracing what you think is an invisible outline of a heart on your skin. “Hyunjin knows.”

“Knows what?” you ask.

“He knows that we’re hooking up,” Minho tells you, then clarifies when he sees your eyes widening. “Well, he doesn’t know that it’s you. He knows that I’m hooking up with someone.”

You mimic his position, propping yourself up on one elbow so your face is more leveled with his, evidently alarmed at the mention of your friend finding out about a secret that you've been trying to hide for months now.

No, a secret would imply that you have more things you have to conceal. It’s probably more accurate to refer to it as the secret.

Sometimes, even you yourself wonder why this is something you need to hide from everyone. 

It’s not like you’re living in the Victorian era where people are scandalized by the appearance of a bare knee. It’s not like your friends are prudes either; most of them have had their fair share of friends with benefits. It’s all casual, all in good fun.

But maybe it’s because it’s Minho that you’re currently… preoccupied with, that makes you feel less inclined to share with the rest of the group.

If any of them catches wind of this, you know they’ll have loads to say about it, starting with a thorough but well-intentioned lecture from Chan. 

You were good friends before your thing started.

You had a friendship. You had something to lose.

You don’t know why you would even risk it in the first place.

It just happened.

One particularly lonely night. You had some alcohol in your system, and that always made you more sentimental than usual. There was something romantic in the air, or maybe that’s just what you thought looking at everything through the lenses of three glasses of wine. Not drunk, just buzzed enough to be reminded that Minho was one of the most beautiful people you’d ever laid your eyes upon.

But the accumulation of all those factors didn’t matter - couldn’t have mattered - more than the fact that he was there for you.

He listened to you brood over how suffocated you felt, how stagnant your life was, how nothing seemed to be going the way you wanted no matter how hard you tried. He didn’t offer you unsolicited advice, didn’t make you feel silly for moping. He was a soothing presence and that was enough for you.

Sometimes, your friends liked to say that you two would make a good couple because of how compatible you were. Chan once commented that you and Minho were a perfect fit, and that was what kept plaguing your mind moments before you kissed Minho for the first time.

Maybe you’re the missing piece of my puzzle, you had thought back then. My perfect fit.

You had pulled away after a couple of seconds, mortified, but his reaction was immediate. He’d chased after your lips again, no questions asked.

You knew it was a rash decision, spurred on by the heat of the moment and cheap convenience store rosé. Minho was so… goddamn addictive after just one taste that you couldn’t resist anymore. Having him felt like you finally had a taste of water after spending years deprived.

Needless to say, he ended up in your bed that night. The rest is… well, it doesn’t take a genius to deduce the subsequent series of events that led you here.

“Elaborate,” you say with an arch of your eyebrow.

“You texted when he was hanging out at my place and I was in the bathroom.” Minho shrugs. “That nosy little thing. He scrolled through quite a bit of our texts too.”

You frown. “He read our texts but he doesn’t know it’s me?”

“I don’t have you saved as your name.”

“Then what do you have me saved as?”

Up until now, you never even thought about this, and you’ve always just assumed that you’re in his contacts under your name, like he is in your list. Well, technically you have him saved as ‘Min’, but anyone who comes across it could still easily identify who you’re referring to.

Minho purses his lips, contemplating for a minute before he ultimately decides to withhold this information from you. He gives you a teasing smile, another shrug, before saying, “That’s for me to know and for you to find out when the time comes.”

“I don’t get to know what my own name is in your phone? Even Hyunjin knows, apparently.”

“Yeah, but he doesn’t know it’s you, so what does he really even know?”

“But I have a right-”

“Shhh.” Then he’s leaning forward to shush you with a quick kiss to your lips. It does the job, because you shut right the hell up. It surprises you every time he kisses you when you’re not in the middle of sex. Moments like these are rare, but you’re always rendered speechless by how casually he does it, how familiar the simple action is even when it shouldn’t be, and most of all, you’re dumbstruck by just how right it feels.

“Am I gonna see you before Yeonjun’s party on Saturday?” he asks, like nothing even happened. Your lips are tingling from a simple peck. It’s so silly, considering how just half an hour ago, he was literally inside of you, pounding you into oblivion until you had tears streaming down your face. Until you were crying out his name like it was the only word you’d ever known.

You quickly regain your composure. “I don’t know, maybe. I have a final paper to finish so I’ll probably be holed up here or at the library,” you tell him. “Maybe we’ll catch each other on campus. But if not, then, yeah, I’ll see you at the party.”

Minho seems disappointed, evident from his immediate and adorable pout. 

“It’s just a few days.” You roll your eyes harmlessly, lying back down again to snuggle into your pillow. “You’ll live.”

“Will I?” he grumbles. “What am I supposed to do for four whole days?”

“Don’t you have your finals too?”

“All presentations and papers. Finished the last one today.”

“Oh,” you say, mildly impressed by the fact. You always forget how studious he actually is. “Internships?”

“Already sent in my applications.”

“Changbin says you’ve been talking to that girl Hana in your class.”

You don’t know why you brought it up. You don’t even like hearing the words coming out of your own mouth.

Minho makes a face, almost like he’s taken aback that Changbin would even tell you that. “Because we’re in the same group for our final presentation,” he informs you.

“She seems nice, from what I’ve heard about her. Seems like she has a big fat crush on you too.”

“Not to sound mean, but I don’t really care about that.”

A feeling blooms in the pit of your stomach, a feeling that you cannot and will not give a name to. There’s just something about the way he said it, steadfast, without any hesitation.

“It does make you sound a bit mean,” you tell him.

“I’m just not interested in her.”

“I don’t want to hold up the Minho train if there are other options out there that you want to explore.”

Do you mean it? Yes and no. Part of you wants to be nosy and prod until he fesses up about a potential love interest in his life - if there even is one - so that you could be a good friend that tell him to just go for it, but your curiosity is eclipsed by your selfishness, because you realize that you don’t really want to know if it means the end of this.

Are you being a hypocrite?

Yeah, probably.

He bites his bottom lip as if in thought, just briefly, before he rolls over to lie on his back, staring up at your boring ceiling. “I told you, I don’t care. I’m not interested in any other girl,” he says.

Realistically, you know there will be a finale. It’s only inevitable. One day, he’ll get a girlfriend, or you’ll get a boyfriend - the former seems more likely than the latter - and this arrangement between the two of you will have run its course. Null and void.

It’s part of the reason why you never let yourself relish in him, because you will only be thoroughly disappointed when he gets taken away from you.

As if he’s ever been yours to begin with.

You’ve never belonged to him either.

Neither of you owes the other anything at all.

You blink away the dazed look in your eyes, humming a noncommittal noise in irresolute agreement, before reaching for your phone to check the time. It’s not that late, half an hour shy of midnight, and his place isn’t that long a walk from yours. You know full well that it isn’t much of an excuse, and yet…

“It’s late.”

“Can’t I stay over?” He turns his head to look at you. “I’ll be good. I’ll just sleep next to you.”

“No can do,” you say. “I have a class at 10AM.”

“Me too. I can walk you to campus,” he insists.

There’s something unspoken in his gaze that you can sense but can’t translate. It’s been happening more often lately - you not being able to read him as easily as you could before. You have to admit that it makes you a little unsettled. The unknown that swims in the dark sepia of his eyes.

But maybe you’re overthinking this. Maybe you’re making something out of absolutely nothing.

“Go home, Minho,” you decide, leaving him no room to protest. The instant kicked puppy look on his face makes you feel a little bad, thus prompting you to continue, “I’ll try to see you on campus, okay?”

He looks at you for another moment before he sits up unwillingly. It seems like he has something else to say - something other than a butthurt comment about being bored out of his mind over the next few days - but in the end, he gives up. You notice the way his shoulders slightly slump as he exhales, “Okay.”

all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 27.11.2023]

[libraryofgage]

Good Vibrations Three

One | Two

I usually try to throw out updates weekly but I got possessed by the muse for Modern Steve in 80s Hawkins and, like, finished the main chapters for that in a daze hfjdk I still need to write the two epilogues, but needed a little break, so here we are!

Part three has Eddie confirming his suspicions, like two seconds of angst that is immediately thrown out the window, and a little flirting UwU

I hope you enjoy! As always, if you see any typos, no you didn't ^_^

----

Something hits Steve in the back of the head. He'd be upset if not for the fact that he's facing away from Dustin and gave the kid paper for the express purpose of throwing if he needs Steve's attention. After much trial and error, the system finally works for them.

Steve sets down the plate he was washing (the aftermath of Dustin asking for grilled cheese sandwiches and annoying Steve until he caved) and turns, drying his hands on a dish towel. "What's up?"

Dustin's chest and arms are sprawled across the table, looking for all intents and purposes that he'd collapsed from sheer boredom or frustration. When Steve speaks, though, he sits up straight so Steve can see his mouth properly. "Can you pick me up tomorrow?"

"I thought your mom was."

"She told me this morning that she got saddled with a last minute thing."

Steve frowns, slowly parsing through Dustin's mouth movement and trying to find the shape of words. He doesn't get all of them, but he gets enough to understand the problem. "Oh," he says, "yeah, sure. Right after school?"

Dustin shakes his head, pushing his biology homework away so he can lean forward. "Hellfire is tomorrow. Eddie says it's gonna be in the math classroom. Can you meet me there at 4:30?"

Somehow, Steve immediately recognizes Eddie's name. Unsurprisingly, it makes him think of the guy, and his mind happily offers up the memory of Eddie laughing on stage. Steve struggles to push the memory aside, at least moving it to a corner until he can properly reminisce later.

"Which math room?" Steve asks, hoping Dustin doesn't notice a longer than normal delay in his response.

He doesn't, if his relieved and happy grin is anything to go by. "213," Dustin says. He then pauses, as if suddenly thinking of something. "Also, uh, maybe wait in the next hall or something. Don't let Eddie see you."

"Why can't Eddie see me?" he asks. Has Eddie been complaining about Steve lately? Has Dustin spent the past week listening to Eddie insult or make fun of Steve for...something he did at the Hideout? Did he not act normal enough?

Well, it's probably not that last one. Robin is great at elbowing Steve when someone is talking to him. She's saved him from numerous awkward situations with that move. It's almost worth the bruise he'll inevitably get from her sharp elbow.

"He won't, like, shut up about you," Dustin says, his nose wrinkling some in disgust and distorting the shape of his mouth. He waits until his expression is under control to add, "He can't get over you attending his gig or something. Keeps saying it's weird that "King Steve" likes metal."

"Oh."

Steve feels his shoulders grow heavy, a weight pressing down on him. He can't hear how Dustin is saying the words, and Dustin's expression isn't animated enough for Steve to glean any kind of tone. But experience has taught Steve that Eddie is probably complaining, even if Dustin isn't saying it outright.

Now that he's thinking about it, it probably was weird for Steve to just show up to a heavy metal gig. He's never shown any sign of liking the genre to others before. Then again, he's pretty skilled at passing for completely "normal" to other people. That results in him being King Steve, though, and that version of him might be all that Eddie can see, which would make his appearance at the Hideout pretty fucking awkward, huh?

Steve is so lost in his thoughts and the feeling of remorse and embarrassment and frustration that he almost misses how Dustin rolls his eyes, his shoulders jerking with a scoff. He pays attention just in time to watch as Dustin says, "Yeah, so if he sees you, he'll probably grill you on your favorite bands or something. He's, like, obsessed with figuring out all the other freak things about you. His words, by the way."

It's a lot all at once, and Steve ends up asking Dustin to repeat himself twice before he can fully comprehend everything. Despite the slightly annoyed look, Dustin doesn't complain. When he finally understands each word, that weight lifts from Steve's shoulders, the sudden emotional whiplash making him feel a little floaty.

"That's why he can't see me?" Steve asks, raising an eyebrow at Dustin and leaning back against the sink.

"Yeah, it'll take forever. It's like when Mom runs into a friend and just stands there talking for a whole hour," Dustin complains, sprawling himself across the table once more when he's done speaking.

Steve snorts and leans over, ruffling his hair and jerking his hand back before Dustin can smack it. "I promise we wouldn't talk for an hour, but I'm not going to avoid Eddie. If he sees me, he sees me."

Dustin doesn't need to know that a small part of Steve really hopes Eddie sees him, deafness and all. And maybe he'll even like what he sees.

----

Eddie Munson is not stupid.

Well, his grades and teachers would beg to differ, so he'll rephrase that.

Eddie Munson is a fantastic DM, which means he regularly takes a big plot twist and sprinkles hints of it throughout each session of a campaign. Doing this means being able to put those puzzle pieces back together, too, and ensuring they lead up to the logical plot twist. So, Eddie's brain is great at seeing some puzzle pieces scattered around and putting them together to make a complete picture, and he's definitely been seeing some puzzle pieces.

Like Steve Harrington never looking over when Eddie first speaks to him. And the way Steve stares at his mouth, his brows slightly furrowed like he's trying to decode something (Eddie would love for this puzzle piece to belong to a "Steve Harrington wants to kiss Eddie Munson" big picture, but he's not delusional). And how Steve needs to be nudged or needs to see someone before realizing they're close to him. And how he didn't seem to understand Eddie's words until he looked down at a notebook Robin had scribbled in.

And that's not even counting the stuff Eddie Munson noticed about Steve in high school. Steve Harrington walked through the halls like someone was hunting him, his shoulders tense and his eyes always flitting around from person to person, like he was scared of someone sneaking up on him. He always seemed to ignore people when they called out to him, and Eddie had once dismissed it as him being an asshole. Steve never actually paid attention in class, either; he'd spend the whole time doodling in his notebook or zoning out while staring at the wall. He didn't even look up when the teacher called on him, and eventually the teachers stopped trying.

So, yeah, Eddie has slowly started piecing the puzzle together, resulting in a picture that he never would have linked to Steve Harrington, of all people. But it's the logical conclusion. It's the brilliant plot twist that makes so much sense when you review previous campaign sessions.

He just needs to test it, to see if he's actually right or if he needs to review the pieces once more.

Eddie's chance comes after Hellfire Club on Wednesday. Their session had finished a little earlier, if only because the players had gotten through Eddie's planned journey faster than intended. The next part couldn't be stopped five minutes in, so Eddie had called it a day and gone to the bathroom while the others talked about their character progression.

In the few minutes it took for him to piss, Steve had strolled into the school and started waiting in the hallway next to the math room. He's leaning against the wall, head tilted down as he reads a small book, his lips turned down into a slight frown as he concentrates.

This is the scene Eddie sees when he rounds the corner, and before he can really think about it, he scurries back to remain out of view. He's not scared of Steve Harrington. He just knows this is the best chance he's got to test his theory. Eddie glances around the corner, watching as Steve turns the page of his book, and he suddenly wants to know what has captured his attention so strongly.

Eddie takes a deep breath and slides around the corner again, sticking close to the wall to remain out of sight. "Hey, Harrington," he says, his volume normal and easy to hear.

Steve doesn't react. He doesn't even twitch or give any indication that he heard Eddie and simply decided to ignore him.

"Haaariiiiingtooonnn," Eddie calls, a little louder and drawing the word out.

Still nothing. Well. Steve frowns a little deeper, turns the page back, and rereads whatever part has tripped him up.

"Steve, you motherfucker," Eddie says, the same volume as before, and this time trying something that might anger him. "Your hair looks ugly," he adds. It's a lie, of course. Steve's hair looks fantastic, and Eddie wants to run his fingers through it.

No reaction, and Eddie is starting to feel brave. He takes a few steps closer, still hugging the wall. "Oh, Stevie," he says, getting a slight grin, "big boy, sweetheart, darling, pretty thing." The endearments easily fall from his lips, hanging in the air with Steve none the wiser.

So. Eddie thinks it's safe to say his theory is correct: Steve Harrington can't hear. And Eddie is suddenly, achingly curious to know more. He wants to see how Steve, with his perfect hair and his stupid little moles and his blinding grin, navigates the world when he can't even hear it. He wants to know how Steve experiences music; he wants to know how many other people know; he wants to know if Steve ever gets frustrated and what he gets frustrated about; he wants to know if Steve's other senses are stronger to balance out his lack of hearing.

He wants to know everything.

Eddie strolls over, standing next to Steve and tapping his shoulder. He feels a little bad when Steve jerks in surprise, sliding back a few steps and looking at Eddie with wide eyes. "Don't do that!" Steve says, his gaze flitting around the hall before he forces himself to calm down and look at Eddie.

"Sorry," Eddie says, hoping his expression tells Steve just how much he means it. "You didn't look up when I called you."

Steve blinks, his lips twitching into an almost wry smile. "I, uh, was really absorbed," he says after a moment, idly holding up his book so Eddie can see "The Bicentennial Man" by Isaac Asimov on the cover.

"Heavy reading," Eddie says, trying to remember if he'd ever seen Steve read science fiction in high school.

Steve shrugs, glancing at the cover with a slight frown. "Dustin and Will were talking about it a few days ago. They seemed to like it. Figured I'd see what the fuss was about," he explains.

"Is it worth the fuss?" Eddie asks.

But Steve doesn't answer because he's still looking at the cover. A few more seconds pass before he sighs and looks up at Eddie. "It's kind of confusing," he admits.

And Eddie can't help himself. He wants the satisfaction of truly knowing he was right, and he wants Steve to know that he knows what's up. So, he asks, "Are you deaf?"

-----

Steve tenses, his shoulders hiking up, and he holds the book closer to his chest like it will somehow shield him. "What....how did you know?" he asks, deciding he doesn't need to try bluffing. Eddie's voice wasn't hesitant. He already knows the answer.

"Just noticed things," Eddie says, shrugging as he steps closer to Steve and grins.

The thing is, Steve hasn't tried hiding his deafness lately. Sure, he would have rather died in high school before letting someone discover he couldn't hear, but now? Now he doesn't really care. He's faced literal monsters; someone just innocently asking if he's deaf shouldn't result in the spike of anxiety that shoots down his spine.

At least, Steve thought he wouldn't care. Apparently, his body didn't get the memo, and years of habit had taken over, putting Steve on the immediate defensive. He clenches his jaw, forces his shoulders to relax, and reminds himself of Dustin's whole "Eddie seems weirdly obsessed with you" comment from the day before.

"Is that a problem or something?" Steve asks, relaxing his shoulder and forcing himself to stay in place.

Eddie pauses, frowning like he hadn't expected Steve to ask him that. "No," he says, the word a little drawn out based on how long his lips linger on the "o" shape. "How long?"

Okay. Steve can handle this. He can already see Eddie's questions following the same path as Robin's and Dustin's when they first learned he was deaf. "I started losing my hearing in elementary school. It was pretty much gone by high school," he explains.

Of all people, Eddie should be the most understanding, right? He probably isn't deaf, but Steve's deafness is something that makes him a freak. Sure, it wasn't super obvious in high school, but it still has to count for something, right? It has to help erase the King Steve persona from Eddie's brain, right?

"That explains a lot," Eddie says, tilting his head slightly and narrowing his eyes like he's trying to filter his memories of Steve through this new lens. "You don't have hearing aids?"

"I, uh, don't usually wear them in public."

"Why not?"

Steve opens his mouth to answer but stops himself. Saying he didn't want people to know in high school would feel shallow, yes, but it would be true. Besides still needing to actually get new ones, he doesn't have much of an excuse for not wearing them now. He frowns slightly, gripping the book in his hand a little tighter. It must make some kind of sound because Eddie's eyes flick down to it before looking back up.

"I didn't want people to know in high school," he finally says, rubbing his thumb over the book's cover in an attempt to expel some of the nervous energy he feels. "If people knew, especially teachers, my grades and stuff would've been blamed on, you know, my deafness. And then my parents would've put me into a special school for others who are deaf or hard of hearing. I didn't really want to get transferred like that, especially in the middle of high school."

"What about now, Stevie? You're not exactly in high school anymore," Eddie says. And did Steve read his lips right? That was his name in the middle, he doesn't doubt that, but...was it changed? There was an extra movement at the end, Eddie's bottom lip pulling back slightly like a long E was thrown in there.

It's not like he can ask, so he shoves the thought away, thinking instead of his crushed and useless hearing aids. His shoulders slump a little at the thought. "My hearing aids are broken, but I don't have enough for new ones yet."

Eddie's eyes narrow again, and he leans a little closer. "Aren't your parents, like, stupidly rich? I mean, I've been to your parties, Harrington, it's not a small house you've got there. Just ask Mommy and Daddy to buy you some new ones," he says.

Steve blinks, trying to grasp the words while also processing just how strongly Eddie's "cigarette smoke-weed-woodsy outdoor" smell overwhelms him. It's not bad (maybe it should be? Steve doesn't think he's ever liked these smells before), but it makes Steve's head feel fuzzy and slow, like he's trying to wade through cotton balls. He blinks again, pushing through the daze to say, "Can you repeat that? You, uh, you spoke too fast."

The smell recedes as Eddie leans back, his lips quirking up into a smile that's more...indulgent than it is mean. "Your parents are rich. Ask them to buy you new ones," Eddie says.

Okay, that's...significantly less words than Eddie said before. Steve frowns slightly, frustration budding in his chest because he wants to know what Eddie said, not what he asked. He feels like he's being left out of a conversation he's actively participating in, and he has to swallow back his immediate, frustration-motivated response.

Eddie doesn't know, he's likely never spoken to a deaf person before. Steve should give him the benefit of the doubt and a little leeway, right? Honestly, Steve is fucking tired of giving people the benefit of the doubt and leeway, but what else is he supposed to do? Blow up? It would be nice in the moment, sure, but the aftermath? The inevitable apology and the potential indignation from the other person? That sounds fucking exhausting. He'd rather complain to Robin later.

"I want to buy my own," Steve says, knowing his sudden shift in demeanor has been noticed by the confused furrow of Eddie's brow.

Before he can say more, Eddie reaches forward, grabbing the sleeves of Steve's sweatshirt. Based on his surprised expression, it was an impulsive move, but Eddie doesn't let go. He just swallows (Steve should not be staring at Eddie's throat like this) and looks at him. "What's wrong?" he asks, and his face is so expressive that Steve doesn't need to hear his tone to know he genuinely cares and wants to know.

Without thinking, Steve blurts out, "I asked what you said. You just repeated what you asked. I want to know everything you said. Every word. I feel like...like you're trying to dumb things down for me, like you don't think I can actually, I don't know, understand everything. I'm deaf, not stupid."

Eddie's eyes widen slightly. "Oh," he says, licking his lips nervously before nodding. "Okay, yeah, it was kind of mean, though," he admits.

"That's worse, actually," Steve says, frowning and gripping the book tightly once more. "I'll just feel like you're mocking me, or getting off on making fun of me when I don't know. Just repeat yourself, word for word."

And Eddie does. He seems uncomfortable doing so, but he speaks a little slower and makes sure Steve can understand each word this go-around. At the end, he adds, "Like I said, kind of mean. Sorry."

Steve watches Eddie for a few seconds before grinning. "It's fine, Eddie," he says, suddenly realizing how close Eddie has gotten and how Eddie is still holding onto his sleeve. And then, to make sure Eddie knows it's okay, he puts on what Robin calls his Bitch Voice and adds, "Besides, Mommy and Daddy don't need to know I've broken another pair. I'd like to live to see next year."

Eddie blinks when he hears the Bitch Voice and perks up slightly, a grin tugging at his lips and his hold on Steve's sleeve tightening slightly. The awkward moment seems to have passed, and Eddie confirms that by asking, "So, what do you really like about heavy metal?"

"I can feel it. Literally. Heavy metal has stronger vibrations, so I can experience it more easily. I don't really know how the words are sung, but I can feel the beat," Steve explains.

"Then, what did you think of our set?" Eddie asks.

He looks a little nervous, and something in Steve settles, relaxing into place. "Like I said, it was great. Especially your song at the end. I haven't really felt a song like that before. Does your band have more original stuff?" he asks. Maybe he can convince Eddie to record some of their songs so Steve can listen to them. Or, even better, just play only their songs at their next gig.

"Of course we do," Eddie says, standing a little straighter and grinning a little wider and looking at Steve like he's put the stars in the sky. "I'll play them for you next time, sweetheart."

Steve blinks at the word he definitely understood at the very end. Before he can ask about it, though, Eddie glances behind Steve and quickly lets go of his sleeve. Not two seconds later, Dustin shoves himself between Eddie and Steve, looking up at him with an eager smile and bright eyes and Steve has the worst feeling.

"Steve! Can we have a movie night at your place?" he asks as the rest of the kids filter in, pushing Eddie further and further back.

"Sure, but you have to call your parents and tell them when we get to my place," Steve says, incredibly grateful he can't hear when Eddie winces at the cheer that comes from the kids.

And then the kids are pushing him down the hall, undoubtedly arguing with each other about what movie to watch first and not giving Steve a chance to say goodbye, or ask if Eddie was serious about playing for him, or ask if Eddie had meant to call him sweetheart or if that was just, somehow, a mistake.

-----

Tag List (the tag list is completely filled up! There definitely wasn't enough room for everyone who requested a tag orz

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[hiatuswhore]

𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝑀𝑜𝓊𝓉𝒽𝓎 𝒪𝓃𝑒 𝒱 — 𝐵𝓇𝒾𝒹𝑔𝑒𝓇𝓉𝑜𝓃

♕ A/N: Yeah so this hiatus has been so criminal. Honestly my “writers block” has just been insecurity. I’ve gotten into this bad habit of comparing my writing styles to others and that is such a viscous and toxic self attack. Long story short, I’m a little dummy who needs to remember why I got into fanfic writing in the first place, to have fun. If you feel like it. Please please please send feedback. There’s one final part left. Maybe some bonus chapters with the new season.

♕ SUMMARY: Oh, the most scandalous season of the year has come to pass. After quite the successful year for the Bridgerton’s the eldest son plans to throw his hat in the ring. Concurrently the Sharma sisters do just the same. One a spinster, the other hopeful romantic, and the middle daughter? What can be said about such a force that is not said when she enters the room. Good luck to all who pursue her.

♕ WORD COUNT: 4.7K

♕ WARNINGS: None

previous — Masterlist — next

BLINK. SMILE. NOD. You remind yourself every few seconds. Edwina leads the conversation with a jubilant smile.

Meanwhile, you tally each time Kate’s gaze meets your own as she watches you walk a tightrope, waiting for an inevitable fall. You sit out of place, Kate on your right and your mother on your left. Both rubbing the mustard yellow onto Edwina’s arms, your nose scrunching at the pungent wafts of Haldi. Each time Edwina’s gaze meets your own, you smile. You tilt your head, doing what you do best, offering your unwavering support—no matter how much your chest knots.

“Didi, are you okay? You are so quiet,” Edwina says, leaning forward to capture your gaze. You smile, lying through your teeth, “You are to be wed soon. I shall miss you, is all Bon.”

“You must calm yourself, Bon. Keep still,” Kate smiles down at a jittery Edwina. Her joy practically spills out, her every move indicating pure excitement.

”It is all so strange. I have faced a thousand tomorrows, but they all have been leading to this one,” You pause. Tomorrow. Every laugh, jest, slight—all of it leading to tomorrow. The day you make a fool of yourself—the mark of your first-ever regret. Though your mother speaks, the words do not reach you. The sinking in your chest renders you silent, almost queasy.

”Oh, it has...caused you doubts?” Kate’s cautious tone has your ears perking up, and your absent gaze finds Edwina. Your mother nudges you with a gentle smile, a reminder of her presence.

”Bringing the wedding forward is a sign of genuine feeling, but...well,” Edwina pauses, a sigh leaving her lips as she finds her words. Your heart was banging against your ribcage as Edwina glanced at you. “It has unnerved me. Didi, perhaps you should truly consider Lord Beauregard’s proposal. He’s a wonderful companion to you, and he seems to care. That way, we can navigate all this together.”

”I don’t know, Bon. It’s a lot to consider,” You tilt your head, a tight-lipped smile across your lips, "but right now is not about me or Lord Beauregard. It’s about you and the Viscount.”

“Your sister is right. Rest assured, Edwina, the Viscount adores you. He has devotedly courted you and made his intentions clear from our first arrival. Even going out of his way to procure (Y/n)’s and Kate’s approval. There is no lady better suited for the Viscount,” Your mother’s adoration beams on her prized child, your expression faltering nearly imperceptibly.

“I just—I still wish that when he looks at me, I could be certain that he truly loves me. Like—like—“ Edwina looks around as though the words sit in the room with all of you. Then her gaze finds yours again, “Like how Lord Beauregard looks at (Y/n). His fondness for

her is so evident, written right on his face. I fear, in fact, that the Viscount does not look at me often enough to even tell.”

Your mother and Kate glance at each other with a collective sigh. You lower your gaze, fiddling with the top lace of your peach gown and swallowing the sizzling golf ball in your throat. Kate speaks softly, this time avoiding your direction entirely, “Looks can be powerful, Bon, but also fleeting. Displays of mere passion, perhaps. Nothing more.”

”So the Viscount feels little passion for me?” Edwina exclaims, amusement dancing in her gaze as your mother chuckles. You force a chuckle from your lips, quiet and timid, the antithesis of your very being.

Clearing your throat, forcing a smile to the surface, you grin, “What Kate is failing at saying is that true love is different. It’s complicated and unpredictable. That’s the fun of it. It’s there when you least expect it. You worry now, but fear not, Bon, when it clicks, it clicks.”

“Since when have you become so knowledgeable about love, Miss, avoiding marriage and love?” Your mother teases. Each of your giggles fills the room, and for a moment, only a moment, the dread no longer exists. For a moment you are back in India, in your childhood home.

You cringe at the sudden intrusion, turmeric overwhelming your nostrils as Edwina’s hand gently swipes the mixture across your cheek. Her saccharine giggle contrasted with your wide-eyed stare. She speaks with a whimsical glint in her eyes. One like your own but doe-eyed and hopeful, not calculated and mischievous. “It is said, when spread on an unmarried person, Haldi will help them find a worthy partner that brings the complicated and unpredictable excitement too.”

”Well, Haldi can mind their business,” You tilt your head with a sarcastic smile, earning your mother's pointed stare. Kate chuckles and shakes her. Edwina turns to Kate, who offers a warning stare.

“Now, now. You shall receive it too,” Edwina says, stroking the Haldi across Kate’s cheeks. You fail to ignore the Haldi on your cheeks. It sits like a reminder that tomorrow will come whether you are prepared or not. You shall watch him marry Edwina. Your sister, nieces, and nephews shall be his—but never you.

“Hey!” You exclaim, once again pulled from your thoughts as your mother spreads Haldi across your chest. Reaching into the mixture only takes seconds before the four of you make a mess of it. The giggles are seemingly endless.

Despite the joyous moment, it’s fleeting as the hours seem to fly. Before you know it, you stand in a lavender gown that matches Kate's. You maintain an expression void of emotion, seemingly zoning out—the subtle indicators, near imperceptible. Light sweat coated your brow, and deep sighs left you as though the air was limited. You thank every and any god above for the smokescreen that keeps your beloved family from noticing. Sitting by the window as servants help Edwina prepare, you watch as Kate retrieves the gold bracelet with emeralds dancing across the band.

Edwina stands in front of the full-length mirror. Her eyebrows pinch at the sight she catches in the reflection. Her smile was curious and of awe, “Didi? What are those?”

”I brought them with us from home. I knew this season would be a success,” Kate smiles down at Edwina as she closely inspects them with a warm gaze. You keep your gaze outside the window, willing yourself to ignore every ailment that plagues you. Far too busy pondering potential ways to avoid attending Edwina’s pending nuptials.

Edwina’s head tilts as she searches for familiarity, “they are quite beautiful. How have I never seen them before?”

“They belonged to my mother. Amma wore them on her wedding day and saved them,” Edwina asks if they were saved for Kate. Kate chuckles lightly, “I brought them for you. I insist, beautiful bangles for a beautiful bride.”

”Will you wear them with me?” Edwina asks, but Kate shakes her head, assuring Edwina she will be no bride any time soon. Edwina’s gaze shifts to you, “Well then, Didi, you may very well be a bride soon. Could you wear one with me?”

“Bon—“ You sigh, your gaze meets Kate. The pity in your eyes only furthers the stir in your chest.

“I’m so nervous, but you are the bravest person I know. I don’t know, it may be silly, but wearing this, I shall have a piece of Kate with me up at the altar and knowing you’re wearing it too,” Edwina pauses, her gaze pleading as she holds the bracelet out to you, “It’ll be like we’re in this together. Maybe I can channel some of your courage.”

At the touch of your fingertips, the metal chills against your skin as it soon shackles you to your living nightmare. As Edwina returns to getting ready, you visibly falter for the first time. While your sweet little sister fails to see it, Kate’s quickly at your side. She excuses the both of you slyly, your hands trembling in hers as you both exit the room.

“Bon—“ Kate says, but you offer her a sharp, “don’t.”

You walk with haste to the nearest glass, throwing down a quick shot, ignoring Kate’s advisory against alcohol. Your eyes are misty as your defenses crumble around you. Taking a deep breath, you quickly steel yourself, marching back into the room, rendering Kate unable to console you.

It all passes in a blur as you stare absently out of the window once more. The arriving guests. The bracelets. The wedding gown. Your mother's gushing of Edwina’s beauty in her gown only fuels the fire that slowly burns from the inside out.

“Didi,” you gaze from the window onto your approaching sister. She smiles warmly, taking both your hands. Your heart caught in your throat when she said, “You love him.”

“Wha—I—uh?” You stammer, eyes widening as you try to wrap your brain around her easygoing persona.

“You should not be afraid to tell Lord Beauregard how you feel. You have been nothing like yourself, and I’ve forgotten you have not seen Lord Beauregard in some time now, and you shall see him today. Just tell him,” Edwina says, smiling sweetly. The panic fades into a tremendous relief as your shoulders fall.

“Today is your day. Don’t worry about me, Bon,” You smile, gently squeezing her hands.

“Oh, my beautiful girls,” Your mother says, her gaze moving between you. Her gaze lingers on you for a moment longer, her eyebrow pinching, but the door opening steals her attention away. Concurrently, your body tenses.

“Come. Let us put all the nasty gossip behind us for once and for all,” Your mother stands, taking one of your hands and Edwina’s. Kate joins, taking your own and Edwina’s free hands. She offers you a comforting squeeze. “Let us give the ton a wedding to remember and show them who we truly are.”

Outside the curtains, you stand at Kate's side as if a prisoner were standing before the guillotine. Your corset seemingly constricting as your mind fails to move your legs. You grip Kate’s hand tighter, your ears ringing so loudly you can hardly hear your whisper to her, “I fear I cannot do this, Didi.”

”You are the strongest person I know, Bon. You can. I’m with you all the way. For better or worse,” she whispers. Looking up at her, you blink back tears, and a nervous chuckle leaves you with a final quick whisper: “It sounds as if we are to be wed.”

Kate lets out a soft as she gently pulls you along with her. Servants pull the sheer curtains away as you both pass through. Your gaze finds William in seconds, sitting with Aunt the Queen. His gaze was cold and focused on the groom. You never meet the groom's gaze despite it searing a hole into your head.

You curtsy to the Queen, and William’s gaze remains behind you. As you take your place behind Kate, your gaze meets the grooms for only a second—your breath hitch as you approach the entrance, awaiting the inevitable. A smile takes your face at the sight of your mother and Edwina. Despite everything, your dear little sister always amazes you with her beautiful presence.

Archbishop begins the ceremony, but his words do not reach you. The ringing of your ears grows louder, your right hand soon fiddling at your side. Your smile falters into an absent stare as the bangle on your wrist becomes more noticeable than the gown that covers much of your skin. You let out a shaky exhale, your left hand crushing the stems of your bouquet.

Squaring your shoulders, you take a deep breath and stare forward. A weak smile on your lips as Benedict shoots you a wink—the calm brief as your gaze meets the groom. You refocus on Benedict, but it’s mere seconds, and you both return. The bobbing of his Adams apple, light sweat above his brow, his gaze unfocused, hazy—perhaps you imagine it. You are in Edwina’s place, standing before Anthony, not with a joyous smile but a smug one. A reminder that each day would be a challenge, one you’d both happily accept—a future.

“My lord,” The Archbishop shatters the fantasy with a firmness, tearing your gaze from him; you focus on Kate’s shoulder.

A brief reprieve as the wedding crashes violently with the present reality. Your left hand grips the bouquet stems so tightly it rips beneath the force of your palm as your right hand trembles at your side, the bengal sliding menacingly around your wrist. You tense as your racing heart becomes your only focus, clashing with the loud ringing in your ears.

Anthony looks around the room, and again, his gaze finds you. Edwina’s eyebrows pinch as she follows his gaze. You do not look up from Kate’s shoulder, confident that one wrong move shall bring your end. Even as Edwina turns back, prompting Anthony, his gaze flicks to your unwavering stare on Kate’s shoulder. Your trembling hand matches the pace of your raging heart as you force your tears to remain in your lids.

“I, Lord Anthony Bridgerton,” Archbishop recites, his words ringing loudly in your ears as they hit you head-on. The bengal slips from your wrist, releasing you from its confines. Your eyes close with a sigh of relief as everything quiets. Anthony stands before you when your eyes open, holding the bengal out to you. You glance at Kate, her gaze panicked as she looks between Anthony and yourself.

Lifting your hand, you falter for a second; the moment has lasted far longer than it should. Your gaze locks with his own as you reach out cautiously. His thumb brushes against your own faintly at the touch of the metal. Muttering a thank you and apology, you return to your spot with your gaze low and lips pursed, holding the bengal not placing it back on.

“I need a moment!” Edwina shouts, her voice echoing through the silence. Your eyes widen, and she’s rushing down the aisle from the altar before you can even process. A sea of indiscernible chatter fills the room as you watch your mother rush after Edwina. It all soon returns, the ringing in your ears and your chest constricting. William rises from his seat, his gaze gentle as he stares at you. You look everywhere but at Anthony. Kate grabs your hand, pulling you back down the aisle out of the ceremony.

”—we will call for tea, and once you have something in your stomach, you will be strong enough to go back out there. The Viscount—“ You stand in the doorway, Kate standing a few paces in front of you, your mother a few in front of her. Edwina paces the room, taking deep, haggard breaths. Your mother fumbles to recover the moment, “The Viscount will understand, yes Kate? (Y/n), dear, perhaps you might find that tea—“

“It is not tea that I want; it is the truth!” You freeze in place as Edwina looks at you in a way you have never seen her look at anyone. Though words enter your mind, they do not leave your parted lips. Your mother voices her confusion as you stand as a deer in headlights, teary-eyed and guilty. Edwina continues mercilessly, “Still uncharacteristically quiet, sister, how telling of your deceitful nature!”

“I don’t understand what is happening,” Your mother's gaze bounces between you. Kate sidesteps in a failed attempt to hide you from Edwina’s view, your presence only furthering her rage.

“I shall tell you what is going on, Mama. Your daughter does not love chaos, as she claims. She loves destruction! Decimation at the tips of her fingers, slowly poisoning all she touches!” You blink through your tears, unable to find the words or even begin an explanation.

“Edwina—“ Kate interjects and appears to be the only intervention that deters from her verbal assault.

“Oh, you cannot deny it now, Kate! You enable her! You always have. The two of you are constantly deceiving me. Together in your deception! You knew! Didn’t you? You knew of her feelings for him, ” Edwina narrows her eyes at Kate, the implication of her words giving your Mother much-needed clarity. Meeting your mother's gaze, your head tilts, all but pleading for comfort without words.

“Alright, that is enough. No good can come from this at present. Let us all take a moment to calm ourselves, shall we,” Your mother says, moving to Edwina’s side. She sits Edwina down, dissolving into a bundle of tears. You try to voice an apology, but your Mother turns to you, speaking sternly, “I said that is enough. You have done enough today.”

”Mama, please. I didn’t want this, please. I’m sorry,” You cry, panting softly as your words spill out. The ringing in your ears returns and grows louder steadily with each passing second. Kate interjects only to receive the same sternness, “And you. You have kept so very much from me.”

”Mama, please,” You cry; reaching out for her, she pulls away and points to the door.

“Anywhere else right now, (Y/n),” She says. Rushing out of the doors, everything splinters into a heap of colors and sounds. You pant as though you have run miles rather than mere steps. When you rush into the first set of doors you find, you rush past several faces you cannot make out. Your breathing choppy and staggered, your hand trembling without pause as you pace vehemently.

“(Y/n),” You cringe at the sound of your name, shaking your head as sobs rattle you to your core. He takes your hands, guiding you to the floor. “Hey, it’s okay.”

“It’s not William. I’ve ruined everything; I’m a terrible sister—a terrible person,” You cry, shaking your head; he places a hand on your cheek, stilling you as he wipes a tear.

“You’re far from a terrible person. Stubborn, sure, but not terrible,” He chuckles, tilting his head down to meet your gaze.

“You don’t understand—“ Panting endlessly, William keeps his gaze locked on you and takes a deep breath in and out. He continues to do so until you follow, and even then, he continues for a few moments.

”I’ve made my intentions with you—my uh, my feelings very clear. And when I realized your impact on Anthony and me, I was angry and jealous. He’s so at ease with you even when you’re annoying him, and you seem to forget anyone else is around when the two of you interact,” William says with a slight smile. Your face falls at his words.

“William, I am so sorry—“ Your voice wavers and William chuckles, shaking his head before you can continue. He nudges your side with a grin.

“No apology needed. I only wish for you to be happy (Y/n) just as I wish for Anthony, and with time, your sister will share this sentiment. Of that, I am sure. I must warn you, though, things will grow far worse before they grow better,” William says, resting your head on his shoulder; he kisses the top of your head. You close your eyes, refocusing on deep breaths.

After a few minutes you clear your throat, “I should go, the last thing I need is another scandal.”

“You’re nothing but trouble, Miss Sharma,” William grins, shaking his head. A giggle leaves you as you wrap your arms around him, squeezing his tight.

”Thank you for this,” You mutter, squeezing a little tighter as he kisses the crown of your head once more. As you head back to the room, you pause as Kate sits outside with her head in her hands. She looks up at the sound of your approaching steps, quickly rising at your sight. Neither of you says a word before silently agreeing you both must face this head-on, accomplices. You knock gently upon the door, and Edwina’s face manages to sink even further at the sight of you.

“What?” She asks coldly; before you can get a word in, Kate inquires about your mother, but Edwina cuts her off, “You seem to know all. How could I possibly offer any insight of my own?”

”Edwina, please. Your anger is with me, not Kate,” You say, earning a huff in response.

“Mother is off, getting some air,” Edwina opens the door wider before moving from it entirely. You take a cautious step inside, still lingering by the door as Kate closes it behind the two of you.

“Edwina, I never wanted to hurt you. By the time I realized, it felt far too late to say something. So, I thought that I would swallow it down to avoid this because I wanted you to

be happy. I know you wanted this badly, but I didn’t realize how deep this ran. But it does not matter; I am unfit to be Viscountess, but you, you’re perfect for it,” Your voice wavers as her teary gaze meets your own. Edwina scoffs, shaking her head.

“He said the same thing. I half expected to discover that the two of you prepared it ahead of time. Perhaps it speaks to your compatibility or your deceitful nature,” Edwina shakes her head at you, her gaze cold as ice.

“Edwina, (Y/n) has always supported. You and I both know she is not deceitful. Misguided, certainly. Stubborn almost all the time. But she’s our sister,” Kate says, eyebrows pinching as her head tilts. Edwina’s gaze bounces between the two of you. Her eyes land on Kate.

“I do not know which pains me more. Both your betrayals or your pity,” Edwina says, her head held high with a conviction you never knew her to be capable of.

“Edwina, we are sisters—“ Kate takes a step toward her, reaching out for her hands but halts at Edwina’s next words, “Half-sister, with the misfortune of having (Y/n) as a sister. I want you both to recognize that I am a grown woman and for the first time in my life, I can make a decision based on what I would like.”

Edwina glances over at you, her at ease presence furthered unraveling your nerves, “I have already imagined the life I would lead with Lord Bridgerton as Viscountess at Aubrey Hall. It lives in my mind and is mine to do with as I like. So, if I choose to marry Anthony, it will be because it pleases me and no one else. I need you both to understand that. If I go through with this wedding, it will have nothing to do with either of you.”

You swallow thickly every version of reality where you have no place in her life evident. Kate's reassurances fall victim to the high pitch. Like nails to a chalkboard in your ears. Your personalized torture.

Kate remains at your side, the silence jarring. Uncertain of an appropriate reaction, you find yourself in a hazy void. You refuse the tears pushing at the edge of your lids, no words in reach to synthesize the depths of the pit in your chest. Time fuses into a distorted blend of unrelenting dread. The footman delivers the summons, the neat handwriting familiar.

Kate hesitates as you ask her to join you. Would it fuel the fire? Further the divide? Perhaps. Even still, you both cross the silks and satins of the entryway—the wedding hall. It's still as breathtaking as you all left it.

”You sent word for me?” Your eyebrows pinch as Anthony's words linger in the air. Kate answers as your lips merely part, and no words leave you. You glance at Kate, who mirrors your visible confusion. Approaching footsteps carrying the answers to each lingering question.

Edwina enters like the calm before a storm. Her hands clasped in front of her, her gait determined, and her mindset. She passes Kate without sparing her a glance, Edwina’s gaze bouncing between you and Anthony, “I have made my decision. I thought it best that you both hear it from me.”

“Edwina, perhaps we should speak privately,” Kate suggests, earning a mirthless chuckle.

“No, and quite frankly, I am giving our sister a courtesy I was not granted,” Edwina keeps her head high, her presence delicate yet commanding. She turns to Anthony, who has not looked away from you. A rare sight of pure vulnerability in your eyes as you look at Edwina. Silently pleading for forgiveness. A soft sigh leaves Edwina as she keeps her eyes on Anthony, not continuing until she has his full attention, “I cannot marry you, Lord Bridgerton. You cannot provide me with what it is I want. What it is that I deserve. What everyone deserves. I may not know exactly what true love feels like, but I certainly know what it is not. It is not deception or, wandering eyes, or a role to be fulfilled. I cannot marry you because I cannot betray myself. You will never meet my eyes in the same manner that you met my sisters on that altar today. You will never...”

Edwina falters, a sigh escaping her as she briefly glances toward you and back to Anthony, “You will never look at me the same way. I would be your Viscountess, your wife, the mother of your children, but I would never be yours because you’ll be hers.”

Your eyes find Anthony as her words seep into your bones. Edwina addresses you and Kate with words of contempt and eyes of sorrow. Her retreating form leaves a heavy silence as Kate rushes after her. Neither of you move, Anthony at the altar and yourself a few paces down the aisle.

“I thought I taught Edwina nothing, but I fear she too shares the ability to scorch the earth in a fit of rage,” You chuckle, the tight-lipped smile dissolving into a huff, “I have ruined everything.”

”You speak as though you did it alone,” Anthony says, meeting your gaze in the same spot where he was meant to recite his vows.

“I should go,” You whisper, watching as he glances off, seemingly pondering something. Clearing your throat, you square your shoulders, “Lord Bridgerton.”

”You should stay,” He says, an odd ease to his demeanor. You can only wonder if he feels the turmoil that rages within you. He tilts his head, “Your sister is braver and wiser than us both. She had the courage to act on what she sensed between us. And here we are, you ready to flee and myself standing perfectly still. We’ve felt it for months.”

You inhale sharply, and the reality is apparent: you cannot escape this. Speaking hardly above a whisper, you fidget with the skirts of your dress, “I’ve lit more than enough fires today. If I were wise, I would go.”

”Then, only for a moment, my pyromaniac, play the fool with me. Humor me in this inevitability, a fate that cannot be. Explore the untenable depths of our desires for this moment only before we face the reality waiting for us out there,” Anthony holds out his hand to you. His smile does not reach his eyes as you stare at his hand before you.

A sigh leaves you as you chew on your bottom lip. You cross your arms, raising your head high, “If I am to play the fool, you will have to address me by my proper honorific, of course.”

”And what’s that?” Anthony’s eyebrows pinch as you turn your head.

“Viscount Bridgerton, of course,” You smirk as the realization slowly dawns upon him. A hearty laugh leaves his lips as you accept his hand with a gentle grin.

“The sky could be falling in, and you would find a way to jest,” Anthony smiles as he shakes his head. You nod, chuckling beneath his gaze, far closer than you were a few seconds prior. Neither of you, aware of when or how you got so close. The warmth brings a merriment that blurs the line between what can and cannot be.

The violins.

The flowers.

The gossip eager Ton.

The bride and groom at an altar without wedding bells. ”I fear I have destroyed my relationship with my sister.”

“And I, with my best friend.”

You give his hands a gentle squeeze on your own, gasping as he pulls you forward. The touch of your lips light at the climax of your shared fantasy. As you both pull apart, the warmth chills. You are not husband and wife; you are a scandal.

A smudge on both of your reputations.

[bellatrixscurls]

games you play | eddie munson

the prelude; the consequences of being late to class... a class that you share with eddie munson and that he, as a matter of fact, has failed.

a/n : i am using this little thing as an introduction to my fic, i will be posting the first chapter as soon as i can. <3

“Billy- Billy, I’m gonna be late” you try to reason with him, but he keeps peppering you with kisses, making you squirm under his body. “Come on, you- fuck- You know how O’Donnell gets.”

You hear Billy sigh, and you do too when he releases you. You miss his kisses already, but you simply cannot be late to miss O’Donnell’s class.

His blue eyes look into your own adoringly, a small smile playing on his lips. “Fine, but you owe me. Tonight?”

You can’t say no when he looks at you with those puppy dog eyes. And truth is, you don’t want to.

“Bet” you giggle, causing a chuckle to escape your boyfriend’s mouth too as he curls a finger under your chin, pecking your lips once, twice and three times before finally letting you go.

You get out of his arms before he can catch you again, and rush up the stairs towards your class. When you finally reach the door, you open it and a more than familiar face greets you.

“Look who has decided to join us. Meredith, I didn’t expect it from you” she shakes her head at you, and your eyes widen.

8:03 am. Shit.

“I am so sorry─” “No need. Just- Don’t let it happen again” she gives you a tight-lipped smile, nodding towards the only empty seat left.

You nod and rush towards your seat, placing your books on the desk.

“As I was saying prior to being interrupted” she emphasises and you sink in your seat, “You will be working in pairs for this assignment. It is rather complex, otherwise I would have never let you.”

Tammy raises her hand, and the teacher gives her a pointed look, raising her eyebrows. “Can I work with Steve?” she asks excitedly, and you snort when the aforementioned boy gives you a horrified look.

“Not exactly, miss Thompson. I would rather you work with your desk mates. It should be a fifty-fifty type of project” she eyes her suspiciously, but decides to let it go as she starts explaining about said project.

You don’t even realise who is sitting beside you, until you notice Steve is giving you a shit eating grin, looking over your shoulder.

“So, you and Harrington think you are too good for us, remains of society, right?” you turn to your right, only to find Eddie Munson, the freak, toying with his pen.

You look at him, confused. He remains unimpressed as he glances at you for merely a second. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

It is his turn to snort, rolling his eyes, but still avoiding eye contact as he looks forward. “Oh, please. Tammy, and now me, all in under ten seconds. I’m impressed.”

You remain silent for a second, before shaking out of your thoughts. “We don’t normally─”

“Oh, trust me, I know” he hums. “You should have come sooner, though, if you wanted to work with one of them... Oh! But wait, Hargrove had his tongue down your throat and now you are stuck with me” Eddie’s face spreads into a wide grin when he sees the shocked expression on your face.

You lean back against your chair and stay quiet for the rest of the class. And when it’s finally over, Eddie gathers his books, not leaving before he looks over at you. “Five pm, my place.”

─

“Are you saying the freak made fun of you and you didn’t say anything back?” Steve laughs at you, as you both gather your things to leave for the day.

You give him an unamused smile, and he holds his hands up in the air. “I’m just saying, Mer. That was unnecessarily rude. Tell Hargrove that and he will─”

“Shut it!” you shush him, cupping Steve’s mouth and he licks it. “Idiot!” you slap him on the back of his head and he laughs out loud, opening the door to his car so you can get in.

─

Five pm rolls around and you are already at the trailer park. You don’t really know which one is Eddie’s, but you don’t have much time to think about it before you hear a door being slammed open, and see a head of curls popping out. “Come in, then, princess” he steps aside, and you step inside the trailer.

It’s cute, actually. It is a bit small, indeed. But it looks nice and as clean as Eddie Munson can keep it, knowing his chaotic personality.

“Yeah, it’s not your palace, but it does the job” he snorts ironically when he sees you look around.

“Your place is nice” your eyes meet for a second, before he looks away. “Let’s go to my room” he instructs, hand at the small of your back, but barely touching you as he guides you inside his room, closing the door behind him.

His bed is a bit messy, papers are thrown around the room, but, somehow, it looks cosy. “So- the project. What do you want to start with?”

His eyes snap to yours in a moment. “Yeah so, I don’t know if you figured, but I failed this class last year.”

You hum, unzipping your backpack. You do know. “Of course. I can help you, if you want.”

Eddie huffs, throwing his hands in the air and you look at him surprised. “Okay, what the fuck is this game you’re trying to play?”

“Sorry?”

“You trying to help me, complimenting my house” he squints at you, crossing his arms over his chest. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

You look at him utterly confused. His words make you take a step back, Eddie has always intimidated you and his snarky comment made the things even worse for you.

Seeing the annoyed expression on his face, you decide to speak up. “I just- I am good at Chemistry so I just figured, you know...”

He thinks for a second, and you can see his face soften for a minute. You exhale.

“Get the fuck out of my house.”

[mrsparrasblog]

Makarov x Price daughter pt.4

This chapter is just to explain what Price did in the whole year since his daughter is gone. Its different then the other ones I still hope you like it. I'll try to set myself a goal to publish the next chapter tomorrow.

Previous Part. next part

Four months he was away from his home, from his wife Tina, and you. God, he missed you and couldn’t wait to see you again. He planned the whole month how he would apologize to you for saying you were a disappointment. Of course, you weren't a disappointment; he just didn't know how to show it to you. You weren't his little girl anymore, so grown and independent. Tina needed him more than you, or at least he thought so. Tina was a spitfire, always getting in danger, disrespecting teachers, while you were a perfectly behaved little girl. Never once in his life occurred the thought that you could do anything wrong. So he neglected you, and he knew that was a mistake now.

During this time off, he would give you all the attention you needed and finally be the dad you deserved. If only you'd accept his apology. He finally arrived in Cardiff, his clothes still dirty from the long flight, his beard overgrown, and he looked a bit like a Neanderthal, but this time he couldn't wait. He rang the bell, Tina and his wife already running into his arms.

"Where is she?" he asked curiously, eager to find out where you were. You mostly took the day off when he came back from deployment. Maybe you couldn’t or did overtime again because a birth took longer than planned.

"Dunno," his wife said bluntly, not mentioning the fact that you hadn’t been home for three months. She saw you making out with an older guy again the day you went "missing". In her mind, you were a spoiled brat who didn't appreciate everything she gave you. She wasn’t your mother and still tolerated you. Shouldn’t you be grateful for that?

After 10 hours at home, your dad grew anxious. He always had a great gut feeling, and something felt off, so he needed to investigate this situation, making sure you were okay. You were his little girl, after all. Telling his wife a white lie, he went to the hospital where you worked.

The delivery station looked weird to him. Everyone was smiling brightly, as if there wasn’t any pain or war in the world. The midwives walked around in pink scrubs, and everywhere were damn cupcakes. It was the first time he visited you at work, and he felt guilty about how he reacted the day you told him you wanted to become a midwife. He should have been proud of you.

After looking around and not finding you, he asked one of the midwives, explaining that he was your dad and had returned from deployment. He got more confused when the midwife told him to sit down and your supervisor came out, taking him into her office.

"Look, your daughter was our best midwife apprentice, but she hasn’t been at work for the last three months without any notice," she explained.

"What do you mean three months? She loves her work," he said.

"We know that. If she ever gets out of her phase, she can come back to work. But for now, could you please gather her stuff from the locker?"

"Phase? What phase?"

"Her stepmom told us she had psychological issues, Mr. Price."

He never heard of it. Why didn’t his wife tell him before? He would have tried to be there for you. The midwife guided him to your locker, opening it for him so he could take your stuff out. His lips curved into a smile when he saw the pictures in the locker: one of your best friend and you at graduation (he missed it), a picture of you on your first day at work with pink scrubs, and a picture of him barely 20, holding you in his arms. You were so precious, such a little thing looking up to him. Dozens of pink scrubs, a calendar marked with vacation NYC and Taylor Swift concert. This didn’t look like a locker from someone who lost it.

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

"Where is my daughter? Don’t bullshit me."

"I don’t know."

"Her boss said you told her she is mental."

"Well, she certainly is. She sleeps around with men your age."

"Do you know where the fuck she is or not? When was she last here?"

"Three months ago."

"Fuck it! My daughter is missing, and you only told me about it now?"

"She isn’t missing, John. She probably married some old fart and ran off."

"Shut the fuck up." He never screamed at his wife. His captain demeanor was always something he left at home, but you were missing, and no one told him. What if something happened? After three months, the traces were hard to find. "Fucking hell."

He walked away to the only place he could think you were. But when your best friend called him a deadbeat dad for only searching for his daughter after three months, he knew something must have happened to you.

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

"Kate, please, anything will help."

"John, there is no trace of her. I'm sorry."

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

"We searched through every man she interacted with, Cap. She isn’t anywhere."

"She is there somewhere outside, Ghost."

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

"How many more innocent people will you kill, John? She is gone."

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

"We should hold a wake for her."

"She is still alive, Kate."

"John, it’s been a year. You know the statistics."

"I won’t stop until I see her corpse."

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

"Makarov will marry, holding a big public celebration and everything, invited us somehow."

"Why should I care if that bastard marries, Nick?"

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

"We found your daughter, Captain."

"Where, Kyle?" He asked desperately. He never lost hope after searching for you for a whole year. He wasn’t the man he was before. He was rougher, he didn’t care about anything anymore. He divorced his wife, killed just to have you back.

"You won’t like it." Please don’t be dead. His eyes started to tear.

"Where?" He needed to take his little girl home, bury you properly, a thing he never thought he needed to do, bury his own daughter, but the world was cruel for people like him.

"Alive"Kyle placed some articles of a Russian gossip journal on his desk.

"'Princess of Russia'," John read aloud. "Vladimir Makarov's longtime love was seen shopping for her wedding dress suspiciously holding her belly. Already pregnant?"

"We can't wait for the wedding of the century," Kyle continued, pointing at the article. "From worker to billionaire spouse, she is living the Cinderella dream."

John's heart sank. He knew what this meant. His daughter, his little girl, was about to become a pawn in Makarov's twisted game. And he would do anything to stop it.

Tag list: @multifand0midi07 , @whos-fran , @cassiecasluciluce , @the-faceless-bride

[tothosewholisten]

Forever Healed | TUA insert

Chapter: 04

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…

NOVEMBER 11, 2002

Two months flew by since I was first brought here and I started to form bonds with my supposed siblings, even if they would never truly be that to me. Klaus was the first person to talk to me, to ever make me feel like part of the group. Then came Ben because well he always came with Klaus. Then slowly everyone else. I'd call some of them my friends.

But dinner at the academy was one of those times when I felt most anxious. It wasn’t the fact that we were having “family meals” something that I never had growing up with a drunk and a scared woman. It was the fact that I had to be near Reginald, and everyone else without being allowed to leave.

He had made sure to catch up on the twelve years of training I missed, and it made my life a living hell. I missed the fun of childhood because of training, lessons with him and missions and I'd always ache from the torments of the day.

Meals were supposed to be a time to relax and chat with family but he once again made sure to take the fun out of that too.

I was upstairs when I heard the record player start, meaning that dinner was happening soon. Grace always turned it on at the same time. The record I've heard time and time again has been engraved in my mind. By seventeen I could repeat the whole thing by memory alone.

“During extreme weather conditions, a climber must possess the wisdom to determine when evacuation is inevitable.”

Grace rang a small bell which was the sign for us to rush downstairs. We ran down the main staircase single file as always and flooded into the dining room where dinner was waiting.

“A controlled alpine descent begins with the girding of one’s loins and the anchoring of the climbing rope to one's enemy, the mountain.”

Instead of sitting down and eating we were forced to stand behind our chairs and wait for the guest of honor to make his way down to the table. No matter how hungry we were.

The wood table had 10 chairs and a plethora of food on each plate. I still don’t understand the seating arrangements since it wasn't in number order. It was me, Luther, Diego and Five on the left. Alison, Klaus and Ben are on the right. Vanya in the middle stared directly at where Reginald would be sitting if he graced us with his presence.

I gotta hand it to her, looking into his eyes while eating seemed very scary. I should also know because I was the closest to him since he left a chair between him and Alison on the other side.

We waited there for him behind our chairs, as I distracted myself from the gross food on my plate. I was a very picky eater at the time, but there was no second option made for me. I remember Reginald telling me once, eat it or don’t eat at all. I took the second option.

Grace stood at the front of the archway waiting for the old man. After a minute he finally came down.

“The Dülfersitz rappel is the preferred method for descent when rope is the only available tool, but must be regarded as a last resort. Begin by looping the rope..”

He pushed out his seat and looked up at all of us and then Vanya at the other head of the table. “Sit” he commanded us.

We all graciously took our seats and everyone started to eat but me who poked at my food. I didn't like some of the slop made, but it wasn’t Grace's fault at all, I just missed my mom and the cultural foods she would make at home. But I doubt she missed me. I was given a look of concern by Luther, we weren't the closet but we did have our moments being Number One and Number Zero. I gave him a shake of the head which meant that I was fine not eating and continued to pick.

“A screen anchor must be used if the rope is to be successfully retrieved from the mountain. Tightly knot the ends of the rope. Once anchored, thread the double rope through the legs, front to back, and around the buttocks.”

But I wasn't the only person not eating. I looked up to see a few others doing more peculiar things than I was. Diego had one of his knives and was carving something into the table. And Klaus only at thirteen years old was rolling a blunt, to the side hoping nobody would notice. And Ben had a book in his right hand, reading away even though I'm sure that isn’t allowed.

I thought that this night was going to be like any other and suddenly I couldn’t wait to grow up. I didn't know it then but that wasn't true at all.

“It is of utmost importance that the rope be drawn under the gluteal muscles, not through the crevice between the gluteus.”

At first, I thought Five was staring at me but no he was staring hard at Reginald who didn't seem to notice. Just sipping his wine. Vanya looked at the thinking Five not sure what to make of his expression.

“Proceed by holding the rope diagonally-”

Five interrupts the background noise by sticking his knife directly into the wooden table. The children all look up from their plates at him, and so does Reginald.

“Number Five?” He bellows out.

“I have a question.” Five grit his teeth after taking the knife out.

“Knowledge is an admirable goal, but you know the rules. Not talking during mealtimes.” I noticed Grace standing behind him as he went on. “You are interrupting Herr Carlson.”

Five pushes his plate out of his way, it slams into the center of the table. I had no idea why he was so upset at the time and only knowing him for such as short time didn't help either.

“I want to time travel,” he says.

“No.”

“But I'm ready.” Five backs out of his chair. “I’ve been practicing my spatial jumps, just like you said.” He blinks next to Reginald on the other side of me to prove his point.

“See?”

Reginald puts down his fork, “A spatial jump is trivial when compared with the unknowns of time travel. One is like sliding along the ice, the other is akin to descending blindly into the depths of the freezing water and reappearing as an acorn.”

I could almost fall asleep at his words. He talked so monotone and slowly I don’t know why he wasn't talking instead of Herr Carlson.

“Well, I don’t get it.”

“Hence the reason why you’re not ready.” Everyone eats like they aren’t listening to this conversation except Vanya who shakes her head and mouths no at the almost twitching with anger Five. He looks at her and then back at him.

“I'm not afraid.”

“Fear isn’t the issue. The effects it might have on your body, even on your mind are far too unpredictable.” Reginald claims, going back to his food before dropping his utensils to give Five a look. “Now, I forbid you to talk about this anymore.”

As Reginald returns to eating again, Five storms out of the dining room pissed off. “Number Five! You haven’t been excused!”

We all looked worried, where was he going? By the looks of it not back to his room. And by the sound of the front door opening and shutting I knew where he was going.

“Come back here!” Reginald yelled.

The look on Vanya's face was heartbreaking. I could tell she wanted to go after him but was afraid of getting yelled at too. I on the other hand didn't know what reaction to have, he was nice to me, we shared a few conversations but seeing him leave didn't have the emotional weight to it as if I had been here all my life. But nobody knew that was the last time they were ever going to see Number Five ever again.

Well until now.

..

PRESENT DAY

“I survived on scraps. Canned foods, cockroaches, anything I could find.” Five tells us.

Vanya and I sit around him, trying to grasp the insane fact that the world is going to end. At times like this, I think of all the times people theorized the world ending at any time and then going out the next day confused but to have someone actually see it happen was a whole other thing. I didn't know what to do or how to prepare. Only having eight days to get my shit in order.

No one but us knew about this which made it even worse to think about..

“You know that rumor that Twinkies have an endless shelf life?” Five chuckles which I didn't think he could do. “Well, it's total bullshit.” Well, there goes my theory.

“I can’t even imagine,” says Vanya. One out of the two taking things more seriously.

“You do what it takes to survive, or you die. So we adapted. Whatever the world threw at us, we found a way to overcome it.”

“I'm sorry, who is this we that you keep bringing up?” I questioned. Just like Vanya was earlier, I was ignored by Five.

“You got anything stronger?” Five asked.

Vanya dumps out his coffee and pours in some whiskey instead. Five is handed the cup happily and takes a big gulp. We all stand up now near her kitchen, Vanya gives him an eye-opening look as I look at my feet still questioning the fact that we are all going to die even though I have a healing factor.

“You think I'm crazy.” He frowns.

Vanya stammers, “no it's just.. it's a lot to take in.”

“Exactly what don’t you understand?” Five whines.

“Well I wouldn't say I don't understand.” I put in, “It's just a crazy claim that all of us are dead in eight days, Five.”

But Vanya asks a question. “Why didn't you just time travel back?” Which I also wondered.

But Five scoffs at us. “Gee, wish I'd thought of that,” he says sarcastically to our statements. “Time travel is a crapshoot. I went into the ice and never acorn-ed.” He quoted what Reginald said years ago.

“You think I didn't try everything to get back to my family?” The sadness suddenly kicks in and I feel bad for the kid. Man..?

“If you grew old in the apocalypse, how come you're still a kid?” I tilt my head.

He scoffs again, strutting away from us to get more whiskey off the kitchen island. “I told you already. I must have gotten the equations wrong.”

Vanya goes on as he pours. “I mean, Dad always used to say that.. Time travel could mess up your mind. Well, maybe that's what is happening?”

Five slams down his glass. “This was a mistake, you're both too young..”

“No Five,” Vanya calls out

“Too naive to understand.” He walks to the door.

“Five just wait and listen to her.” I sighed.

But he listens and stops. He turns back to us, lips pursed into a scowl.

“I haven’t seen you in a long time, and I don't want to lose you again. That’s all.” She says. “You know it's getting late, I have lessons early, and I need to sleep and I'm sure you two need to too.”

She runs over to the couch and hands me a blanket and pillow. Uhm does she think I'm sharing with the teen?

“We’ll talk in the morning again. Okay? I promise. Night.” She begs us to stay as she gives us a shy smile and walks to her room.

“Goodnight Vanya.” I smile back before it leaves my face as I look back at the blanket and then Five. Her door opens and closes and I'm left alone with him.

Five moves to sit on the couch, and I do the same. “So what now?” I ask him.

He doesn’t answer, instead he opens a piece of cloth. Inside that cloth is a large brown fake eye. Like the ones used when you lose yours. I stare at the eye thinking I'm losing my mind. Everything today makes me feel like I'm losing it.

He sighs as I'm about to question him on why he has a creepy fake eye, all he does is look at the back of it where it reads who produced the eye. Meritech, it says, never heard of it.

I finally look at him in his hopefully real eyes. “What is that?”

He quietly gets up and opens the door to leave.

I blocked him. “There's no way you brought me here and are about to leave without answering any of my questions. And leaving me on my own at god knows where.”

He looks confused.

“That means I'm coming with you, of course.”

..

Five dragged me along to what I'm guessing was Meritch’s office building. A spacious place with lots of windows and workers walking around in lab coats. How he was going to get private info about this eye I do not know. But if I know Five, I know he’s at least going to try to bullshit his way through this.

Another lab coat worker walked over to the front desk which was in front of where we were standing and gave us a strange look. He shares the look with the front desk lady and then at us.

“Uh, can I help you?” He says.

Five walks up to him menacingly. “I need to know who this belongs to.” He holds up the eye for him to see.

“Where did you get that?”

“Why do you care.”

I cough, interrupting the two's standoff. “Hello yes, he found it on a playground. It must’ve just popped out!” I forced a chuckle. “My sweet brother here just wants to return it to its.. rightful owner!” I end my lie.

“Ohh.. what a thoughtful young man” the front desk lady adds on.

“Yeah. Look up the name for me, will ya?” Five snaps completely breaking apart my well-crafted lie about his sweet nature.

The man and woman look wary. “I'm sorry but patient records are strictly confidential. That means I can’t tell you-“

“Yeah, I know what it means.” Five grumbles

“But I'll tell you what I can do. I will take the eye off your hands and return it to the owner myself. I'm sure he or she will be very grateful so if I can just-“ the man reaches out for the eye in Five's hands.

“Yeah, you’re not touching this eye.”

“Aidan! You don't mean that, apologize.” I grit my teeth trying to signal to Five that he doesn’t wanna make these people mad or everything is for nothing.

“Now, you listen here, young man-“ I was about to tell that ugly man not to mess with my kid brother like that. But Five beat me to it when he grabbed onto the man's collar and yanked him towards himself.

I sigh knowing now we officially fucked this up, and dropped my happy act.

In his squeaky voice Five yells. “No! You listen to me, asshole. I've come a long way for this, through some shit your pea brain couldn’t even comprehend.” I almost giggle at his attempt to seem tough.

“So just give me the information I need, and I'll be on my merry way. And if you call me ‘young man’ one more time, I'm gonna put your head through that damn wall.” He finishes with a smile.

“Oh dear.” The front desk lady says.

The man still in Five’s grip looks over at the front desk woman.

“Call security” he whispers even though we could all hear what he was saying.

“Yeah,” she replies, picking up the old-looking telephone right next to her and dialing.

“We need to go now.” I grab onto Five's shoulder.

He gives that man one last dirty look and lets go of his coat. Sending the man back a few centimeters. The worker fixes his coat and exhales like he is trying to pretend he didn't just let this preteen threaten his life

Five and I walked out of the building defeated. And move on to our next idea, reinforcements.

…

Aug 14 update:

If you'd like to be added to the tag list for rest of the series (starts at chapter 10) say taglist in the comments!

[lemonlover1110]

Baby Steps

Satoru Gojo

[Chapter 26] Date

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Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader

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“I could just eat you.” You kiss Seiji’s tiny feet, and he laughs. You adore his little laughs more than anything. You never thought you could love him more than the day he was born, but your love for him keeps growing more and more each passing day.

At five months old, Seiji looks like a replica of his father. You wait for him to grow more into his features, to look more like you. But he doesn’t. You love him either way, even if he looks just like Satoru. Seiji just has the chubbiest cheeks and the cutest rolls. You can have a thousand of him, and as you think that you realize that you’re forgetting how horrible childbirth was. 

“Are you telling him that you’re gonna eat him again?” Satoru asks as he walks to sit by your side. You don’t pay attention to him, just looking at your baby. Satoru sits by your side and kisses the temple of your head.

You haven’t had the date that you were supposed to have, and you’re going out tonight. And instead of getting ready, you’re playing around with Seiji. Satoru clears his throat before he says, “Maybe I should handle Seiji while you get ready.”

“Why don’t you get ready?” You ask as you look over to him. But he is ready. You’re about to fight it off but you hear a certain sound that makes you hand the baby to his father. “Change his diaper while I go get ready.”

Satoru is clearly annoyed when you hand him Seiji. It’s his fault for suggesting that you get ready. It’s also baby Seiji’s fault for making a mess in his diaper during the worst possible moment. Satoru wastes no time in changing the diaper– Absolutely terrified though, especially after what happened during Seiji’s first month of life. Satoru is protected by his infinity, but the room isn’t. 

“I’m gonna miss you tonight, Seiji.” Satoru says, kissing the top of his baby’s head. Every night that Satoru has to work, he hates the fact that he won’t be able to be close to his baby. But Satoru wants to spend some time alone with you, and that means that he can’t bring Seiji. He doesn’t like the fact that Seiji is growing up so fast, and every time Satoru looks away the baby seems to learn something new.

He walks back to the living room, where Megumi tries to assemble something with his legos. Satoru smiles, realizing just how lucky he is. Tsumiki and Megumi argue like any pair of siblings, but apart from that, they’re very calm kids. Satoru speaks up, “Do you wanna play with Seiji for a bit?”

“Didn’t he just shit himself?” Megumi asks, leaving Satoru wide-eyed. Where did Megumi learn that language? Satoru doesn’t have a potty mouth, then he remembers that you certainly do. Even around Seiji, even though he scolds you about it. He doesn’t want Seiji’s first words to be fuck or shit. Apparently those are the only words you know.

“Don’t use that language, Megumi.” Satoru scolds him, and Megumi rolls his eyes before standing up and walking back to the room. You’re in the process of buying a house, and Megumi simply can’t wait since he was promised his own room. 

Satoru sighs before looking down at his baby. Seiji is stretching his hand out, trying to reach for something. Satoru doesn’t know what, and he’s trying to find what baby Seiji is looking at. He’s cooing at something, and then Satoru’s eyes finally land on the fish-shaped toy. Satoru grabs it and hands it to the baby. Seiji grips it, and Satoru just watches. 

There’s a knock on the door, and Satoru stands up, taking a deep breath to prepare himself to handle Kaya. When he opens the door, he tries his best to smile at her. She looks unamused with his presence, but her expression quickly changes when she sees baby Seiji. She doesn’t waste a minute in taking the baby from Satoru’s arms. 

She’s holding the baby in the air, risking that he pukes all over her, but she doesn’t care. “My cute little nephew, I’ve missed you.”

“You know it’s not just him, right?” Satoru asks, watching as Kaya walks inside. She ignores him, of course she knows. Kaya has met Megumi and Tsumiki a handful of times, and they seem fine. She won’t struggle much tonight. Satoru shuts the door. “How are you and Daisuke?”

“What do you mean?” She responds, genuinely confused. It makes Satoru click his tongue, in disbelief that they’re still not dating even though they’re so clearly into each other. Satoru ends up shaking his head, not wanting to get into the issue.

“Heads up, Seiji loves to poop right when you’re changing his diaper so be prepared.” Satoru warns her, and she chuckles.

“How many times has he done it to you?” She questions, and he scratches the back of his neck, awkwardly looking elsewhere. Too many times for him to be scared. While he looks away, he watches as you walk out of the bedroom, looking as stunning as ever. 

You’re putting on your earrings, and you’re clearly not ready to go yet. You just walked out of the bedroom to greet Kaya. When she sees you, she smiles and says, “There’s my favorite MILF.”

Satoru clears his throat, which doesn’t necessarily do anything. Kaya side-eyes him before she turns her full attention to you. You kiss her cheek before you kiss your son’s head. “How are you? Didn’t expect you to be here so early.”

“I’m right on time, am I not?” She responds and Satoru hums in response. You call over Megumi and Tsumiki, and it takes them a minute to walk out of their room to the living room. You smile at them before informing them,

“You remember Kaya, right? She’ll be taking care of you tonight. Please be nice to her.”

Kaya smiles at the kids, and Tsumiki smiles back. Megumi doesn’t care all that much, but it’s fine, she knows he’s a grumpy kid. You tell her basic instructions, stuff that Satoru can handle, before you walk back to the bedroom to finish getting ready.

Satoru wants to rush you since you have a special reservation, but he knows better than to. He just has to wait.

-

You’re almost late to your reservation, but thankfully you’re right on time. The place looks fancy, and the menu contains words that you can barely pronounce so you know this is way out of your price range; luckily, Satoru is paying. You’re just hoping that Seiji’s college fund isn’t the one that’s paying for dinner.

“How’s work?” You ask before you bring your glass up to your lips. You still don’t have a grasp on what he does, but you’ve moved on past it. You can’t see it, so it doesn’t concern you. As long as he isn’t killing innocent people, you’re fine. 

“Let’s not talk about that, please.” He chuckles. He changes the topic, “How are your classes? Were your exams too hard?”

“Not too hard.” You respond. You don’t want to admit that the term was a bit harder on you since you hadn’t taken classes since the previous fall term. Everything was so much harder for you because of your newborn. You managed to pull through though. “Glad to have the time off.”

“That’s nice to hear. Just know that if you don’t want to do it anymore–” He begins and you cut him off. As tempting as it sounds, you can’t really can’t just drop your studies to be a stay at home mom.

“I do want to do it.” You tell him. Your hands reach across the table to hold his hands. “Especially since you’re paying for everything. I don’t have that much left anyway.”

“Just letting you know that you have other options!” Satoru responds. Satoru keeps looking you up and down, you simply look stunning. He’s truly a lucky man. It isn’t official yet, but you have a baby and you act like a couple so is there really a need to formally ask you to be his girlfriend? Well, he guesses that he should. “I wish I could stay with Seiji all day long.”

“I mean… You could. Once I've graduated–” You begin and he interrupts him.

“My type of job isn’t one that I get to quit. I’m stuck doing it until I’m dead.” He’s told you it a couple of times, but you don’t seem to pay attention to it. Maybe he’d explain everything further, but he doesn’t want to ruin the mood. But you speak up,

“Why were you so insistent on your parents not finding out about Seiji?” 

“I just thought if no one in my life knew about Seiji then he’d be safe… I mean, you saw what happened when someone that wasn’t supposed to know found out.” He answers. He still hasn’t quite figured out how Suguru found out, but he has an idea. He shakes his head before he smiles at you and he squeezes your hands, “Let’s not talk about that.”

“What do you want to talk about?” You ask him, slightly tilting your head to the side. You look sweetly at him, slowly blinking. Fuck, you look so beautiful.

“Just how beautiful you look. Thanks for coming out with me tonight.” He can’t stop staring with loving eyes, and you feel your heart flutter. You feel so warm inside every time that you look at him, and you nearly squeal each time he compliments you. Kissing him just makes you smile foolishly, and you hate that he knows the effect he has on you. He’s been sweeter than ever lately, and you assume it’s because he sees you smile like never before.

“Thanks for inviting me.” You respond. It’s nice to be out after what feels like an eternity. You don’t have to worry about your baby or the kids. “We should do this more often. Just some alone time for the two of us.”

“I love that idea. No musty kids around. No dirty diapers to change.” He comments, causing you to laugh. You know that he hates changing dirty diapers but it’s a task that always falls in his hands. “Plus we’ll have fun after.”

“Doing what?” You question before he informs you,

“I took the carseat out of the car.” It doesn’t hit you, but when it finally does, a smirk comes to your lips. He then clears his throat, “I hope you enjoy the dinner tonight. I love this place.”

“Can’t wait to taste the food.”

-

It’s fair to say that you weren’t a big fan of the food so before your date comes to an end, you and Satoru walk around to find a place nearby to eat. Satoru keeps his eye out for a place that you might like, and he tries to walk fast since he sees you shivering. You’re both well dressed since it’s December, but it’s windy out. Wind hits right on your face and you’re sure that you’ll end up sick. 

“The food wasn’t that bad.” Satoru tries to argue, and you don’t dare to disagree. It just wasn’t too tasty, and you left half of your food untouched. Satoru found it delicious on the other hand.

“Yeah… I guess it wasn’t.” You respond, following his every step. He comes to a stop when he spots a cupcake shop, and he grabs your hand before dragging you to it. You’re relieved when you step into the place, warming up immediately. 

“What kind of cupcake do you want?” Satoru asks, and you take a moment to think about it.

“Carrot.” You respond, and a smile comes to his lips. Luckily enough, there isn’t a line so you’re able to get your cupcakes right away. You take a seat and begin to eat. Satoru is trying to get some of your food, but you make sure to keep it far from his reach. The fact that Satoru has really long arms doesn’t help you. 

“Have you had fun?” Satoru asks, snatching your food out of your hands and offering his own. You refuse to take it though. You nod in response, getting some of the icing of his cupcake on your finger before bringing it up to your lips.

“How about you? I know you enjoyed that nasty ass food.” You joke, and he rolls his eyes. You end up laughing at his reaction. He finally gives you back your cupcake and you gladly take it from his hands.

He clears his throat, “So…”

“So?” You blink rapidly, curious as to what he has to say.

“I guess we don’t need to do this properly since we have a baby and live together and do everything that couples do…” He begins, and he pauses to gather his words. You have an idea of what’s coming up, but you patiently wait for him to finish his statement. “I don’t wanna drag this out, so I’ll put it simple. Do you want to be my official girlfriend?”

You laugh. “I thought that at this point you’d be giving me an engagement ring but yes–”

He doesn’t waste a second as he reaches into his pockets to pull out the ring that he has. Your eyes go wide looking at it. You weren’t serious. There’s a smile on his face as he says,

“Do you want to skip the girlfriend stage and become my fiancée then?”

[mariefilms]

╰───► MORAL CONSCIENCE- e. williams smau.

「cuatro」 ⇢ hasta cuando

Pairing — streamer! ellie x youtuber!black fem!reader x rockstar! dina

warnings — sex tapes, strap on sex, weed, strap sucking, idk what worse i think that’s it

a/n i wasn’t gonna write smut but well…..( btw, this is 3 months after chp 3 🧘🏾) this is also not proofread so.. ntm !!

chapter 3 ⇢ chapter 5

ellie had made it to your apartment not long after you blocked dina on everything. you were sick of her back and forth shit. you couldn’t understand how she would just play with your emotions and think it’s a game w/ no consequences.

deciding not to tell ellie anything that just transpired you put on a face of faux happiness.

“hi baby” ellie greeted you with a bone crushing hug and you fell right into it. “i missed you” was whispered on your lips softly as she gave you multiple chaste kisses making you giggle. “it’s barely been two days, girl pleaseee” she rolls her eyes at your teasing and moves to sit on the couch and pull out some pre-rolls that she got off of jesse and lighting one before offering you the first hit. you took it before passing it back to ellie.

“ellie. we should bake a cake high.” you looked over at her and had a wild smile plastered across your face. she looked up at you from her slouched position on the couch questioningly. “why do you look on the verge of a psychotic break!?” she giggled at your immediate pout in response to her teasing. “stop ittttt, i’m serious! it would be so fun, i might even record it since i need new content anyway” you looked over at ellie to see if she would agree to find her staring at you with something shining in her eyes. you rose your eyebrow in question and she shook her head with a chuckle. “fine, i’ll do it !” sighing she got up and gathered all the stuff needed to get you high out of your minds.

you squealed in happiness as she agreed and ran to the kitchen to get everything in place, luckily your camera and lighting was already set up. (you may have planned to persuade her into saying yes but she doesn’t need to know that !!) .

“ellie come on ! i’ve got everything ready!” you yelled out while digging in your cupboards for cake mix and anything else you might need. “i’m literally right here” she said as she slinked up behind you and wrapped her arms around your waist.

“you know you can’t be like this on camera right?” you turned around in her arms with the ingredients in your hands to find her smirking down at you before bending down and pecking you on the lips while grabbing the stuff in your hands and putting it on the table.

“ok let’s start, ready” she arranged the ingredients on th table that looked good on camera as you turned the camera on and started recording.

“hi, youtube! i know ive been MIA for like……. months, but i’m back! and i have a special guest !” you turned to look at ellie who was apparently already lighting a blunt! “psst.. ellie” you smacked her arm and pointed to the camera when she acknowledged you (finally). “ hm? oh. sup, i’m ellie” she shrugged and went back to what she was doing before you had interrupted her. “well then! i’ll just introduce her since she wants to be aggy!” you heard her scoff behind you at your comment but chose to ignore it in favor of telling the people who she was and what y’all were doing for todays video.

“and that’s basically it! so me and ellie are gonna go get… como se dice… smacked and then we’ll be back!”

you didn’t come back. in fact you never even got to start on baking the cake. as soon as the high hit you and ellie she brought up this crazy idea of making a sextape. super risky, i know. but the way she said it made you feel a certain heat start forming in your lower region. the hand rubbing up and down your inner thighs certainly didn’t help with clearing your mind at all. all you could think about was ellie and she made sure you stayed like that.

next thing you knew you were in your bedroom, naked, sweaty and a flash blinding you as ellie put the camera in your face while you were sucking her strap down your throat to get it, in her words, nice and wet so she could fuck you into the bed. just thinking about what was to come made you get all hot and bothered and you were sure the camera was picking up on all your blissed out expressions.

“fuck that’s it baby”

“takin’ me so well ma’”

“deeper.. i know you can do it baby.”

fuck. you were in heaven. ellie was on a different type of timing that day and you couldn’t get enough of it. you dragged one of your hands down from ellie’s thigh and started making little circles on your clit giving it some much needed stimulation. “i think you’re ready baby. you’ve been so good f’me” ellie bit her lip and brung the phone closer to where your lips connected to the base of the strap watching it disappear in your mouth and reappear. “fuck, you’re so sexy baby”

ellie pulled you off by your hair and dragged you up into a bruising kiss. it was sloppy and wet with spit all over each others mouths and tongues exploring. “c‘mon ellie, i’m ready! you said it yourself” you mumbled in between kisses as best as you can when you felt her reach down and spread your lips, dragging a finger in your slit letting it slightly tease your hole and gather your slick. she removed her hand making you whimper in frustration until you saw her put the same finger in her mouth and sucks. “shit y/n you taste so good” she groaned around her finger making your clit twitch as a wave of strong arousal passed through you at such a pornographic display.

“if you don’t fuck me right now ellie.”

“yes ma’am” she chuckled and took the base of her strap to line it up with your sopping wet pussy. when she slid in to the hilt your eyes rolled to the back of your head and you moaned wantonly. “fuckkk ellie” you dragged your hips up and down on her dick setting a steady, punishing and mind-numbing pace. it was so good and you were hitting ellie’s clit just right with every bounce. ellie leaned up and planted her feet on the bed to fuck up into you causing you to scream at the intensity of the sensation. “ look at the camera f’me baby. you look so good crying on my dick” you moaned pathetically and opened your eyes to look into the camera.

tags </3 @brackishkittie @robinismywifee @aouiaa @elliesbitchvenus @vnus-starr

[nthspecialll]

why do you ship jovier?? i know its common but i swear they barely interacted at all

Well, let me explain to you at least why I ship them, but also thank you for asking! It is an amazing excuse to yap about them.

To me, it is the absolute tragety that they are and the care that they have for one another that we don't always see them show towards others. Take the very first mission with them for example, John is missing, gone, possibly run off and Hosea knows to ask Javier to go find him because Javier will go and he will not complain like Bill or Micah and he is willing to go the extra mile unlike maybe Lenny or Charles and even Arthur.

In this mission we hear the first of John, he is unreliable, he left the gang, his "wife" and his child and everything for an entire year and it also becomes clear that Arthur who has known him for years still doubts him and believes it is possible that John left. Meanwhile, we have Javier who has not known John that long yet he stands certain and defends John saying "he wouldn't do that" even though he would and has. We also see Arthur willing to give up as soon as the trail in the snow becomes semi-hard to follow yet again, Javier pushes on saying "just a bit more." If it has just been Arthur John would have died on that mountian.

And now in chapters 2-6 we get to the "problem" with Javier, he is not in a lot of main quests so to get to know him you have to be around camp because he actually has a lot of camp interactions, and a few is with John, so let's go through them.

While John is reading the newspapers Javier comes up to him and says "scar looks pretty", John replies with "yeah, ruined my fine features" followed up by "thank you, for saving me" to which Javier says "of course, I know you would do the same for me" and then in the end John "I owe you, for life." This interaction generally just shows a form of appreciation as well as softness between them, it isn't a lot of other times you see any other male characters thank another.

You have when they are sitting and eating and they start talking about Mexico where John says "I would like to go to Mexico one day" and Javier replies "maybe you will." It is just a heartbreaking foreshadowing.

Possibly my favourite interaction between them, Javier is drinking and John is standing nearby so Javier says "come join me brother, have a drink," John looks over and replies "no, I will sit down and have several" so they just sit and drink, John quickly becoming drunk and poetic and Javier shows obvious signs of concern to the point where even John comments on it saying something along the lines of "why not give me another?"

Now, in chapter six, the end is nearing, people are falling apart and things are going to hell. I have before made several posts about this but Javier is desperate. He built his entire personality around ideals and he joined Dutch because of ideals, should it come to the fact that Dutch is not correct that would mean everything Javier was and everything he made himself into was also wrong, not to mention he wouldn't be able to stay in America nor be able to go back to Mexico because of his family. He is frustrated, and as any other person when frustrated, he becomes agitated and hot-headed, he needs Dutch to be right so he acts out. His "anger" is nothing more than fright.

We see Javier yell at John, yet we also see him defending John. Bill comes up to Javier and starts talking about how John has to be the rat, how it is the only thing that makes sense, Javier replies "that doesn't make much sense either," clearly standing up for John when he needed to. That is until it is Arthur, when it is Arthur he turns on a dime and says something along the lines of "maybe it is John" but that is simply because he is "hating" Arthur on principle.

Now, the final gun stand, whatever you wanna call it, I have made a whole post on this, but in short, Javier pointed his gun on John but he was hesitant because he didn't actually have a hatred against John, he didn't see him as a traitor, he saw him as a brother. Also as soon as the gun fight is over Javier is gone, you can find Dutch, Cleet, Joe, Micah, but Javier and Bill are gone.

1911, the two have not talked for ages, yet Javier knows John has several children, clearly keeping some form of interest on him throughout the many years. Also their meet?? Their entire meet, both had the chance to kill the other but didn't.

Javier could have chosen to shoot John and get it over with instead of jumping out of the window, securing his own life's safety, but he didn't. John could have chosen to shoot Javier immediately and save himself the trouble, but he didn't.

Also, John's talk about Javier to Abraham. "When Dutch started fallin' apart, it hit Javier harder than any of us. He went crazy. It was like the one thing he'd ever believed in turned out to be a fraud." John knew Javier wasn't thinking straight and I personally see it quite obvious that Javier was never angry at John either.

I think in the end that John didn’t hate Javier, not when he killed him either, he just loved Abigail more than Javier and chose her over him, but in any other situation where they stood face to face i think John would have just walked away.

[lincolndjarin]

Best Kept Secret

chapter fifteen : two tea parties (RE-UPLOAD)

ao3 link ✿ series masterlist ✩ main masterlist ✧

pairing : bodyguard!Din Djarin x afab!princess!reader

rating : 18+ mdni

word count : 5.4k

summary : reader and din have a tea party, just not with each other

warnings, etc. : language, angst

A/N : i had to change accounts so this is a re-upload of my ongoing fic bks!!

“What did you do to her?”

Her voice breaks through his sleepy haze as he sits up properly. 

“Excuse me?” He can’t seem to remember her name as he struggles to his feet. She pokes a finger into his chest, for someone staring down a bounty hunter she sure seemed to have a lot of confidence in her ability to intimidate him.

“The princess. What did you do to her? She’s got bruises, she’s hardly eating, and she’s all melancholy in there. And I think you’ve got something to do with it.” 

Shit, shit, shit.

He has several responses forming in his mind right now, all of which would make him appear guiltless. Then his stupidly tired brain decides he’s taking too long so instead he blurts out the first words to force their way out.  

“I didn’t mean to hurt her.” 

He couldn’t be more of an idiot.

The woman grabs his arm and starts dragging him away from your door. He could easily resist but he’s so embarrassed by his own fuck up he doesn’t bother as she pulls him towards an unfamiliar part of the castle, descending staircase after staircase until they reach the servants quarters and she shoves him into a room. It’s about the size of the cabin, a small kitchen in one corner, a sofa in the other, a fireplace with small burning embers dimly illuminating the stone walls, and a twin bed in the back. He recognizes the girl currently snoring softly under the blankets as your other servant. 

“Sit.” The Togruta girl snaps at him, pointing at the wooden table. 

Of course this is where he decides to finally take a stand and he crosses his arms, staring at her. 

Doesn’t last for long as she starts setting things up at the stove.

“Sit or I’m not giving you any caf.” She doesn’t bother turning around and he doesn’t bother resisting further at the promise of caffeine as he sits at the table.

He doesn’t speak as she puts a pot on the stove to boil. He feels a bit like a child who’s about to be scolded. For several minutes the only sounds are the other girl's soft snores and the crackle of the fire as he tries to keep his eyes open. 

He must have fallen asleep for a second because he jolts upright as she slams a mug down in front of him. 

“Drink. You look like shit.” 

“You have no idea what I look like.” He mutters as his hand grips the mug. 

“I do. You look like shit and you look like you haven’t slept in days. Drink.”

She says as she walks over to the bed, facing the wall and blocking his view of the other girl. “Be quick about it.” She takes a sip from her own mug. “Tell me when you’re done.”

In any other scenario he would refuse, or at the very least protest but he hasn’t had caf in a long time, he misses the bitter taste, and he should probably have his wits about him for the conversation they’re about to have. So he releases the airlock and lifts his helmet, quickly swallowing down the mug. 

The fact that he’s a little intimidated by the woman has nothing to do with his sudden obedience. At least that’s what he tells himself as he locks his helmet back in place. 

“I’m finished.” He can feel the familiar buzz of the caffeine as it flows through his system as he temporarily gets to feel a bit more conscious. 

“Good.” She turns and walks over, taking a seat across from him as she stares at him expectantly. 

His hands get clammy and he can feel his palms sticking to the insides of his gloves. 

This must be what his bounties feel like when he interrogates them. 

“What did you do to her?” She finally breaks the silence, continuing to glare at him. 

That’s a good question. 

He had loved you. 

There isn’t a doubt in his mind about that. 

He had been limited to only showing it to you physically, and when you had shown him a glimmer of something outside of that realm he had turned that love into something ugly. 

And now, mere days later he has to wonder if he made the wrong choice. 

He can’t exactly backtrack. He said terrible things to you. His own words from that night echo around in his helmet, taunting him. 

What did he do to you?

He was starting to get a little worried that he might have broken you.

You had spent all day scribbling in the library like a woman possessed. Truly that could have nothing to do with him though, he’s certain he couldn’t have possibly meant that much to you. Enough to drive you mad.

The Togruta girl snaps her fingers in front of the helmet.

“Hey, shiny, snap out of it. I know you had something to do with it so start talking.” 

Okay, maybe he did have something to do with it. 

No, what does she know about what had happened between the two of you? Well apparently she has wickedly good intuition, and he did basically already confess. 

“I’m not sure.” He wishes his voice didn’t tremble slightly but he can’t help it. 

“You aren’t sure…?” She grumbles as she finishes her mug. “Why don’t you start at the beginning. Tell me what happened.” 

And there’s no rational reason to. 

Or at the very least, there’s no rational reason to tell her the truth. 

And maybe it’s because he’s so tired. 

Or maybe it’s because this girl reminds him of someone he once knew, before he took this job.

But he tells her.

He leaves out a lot of the gorey details but he gives her the gist, she sits quietly the entire time as he whispers the things that transpired. And when he’s done he expects her to maybe tell him he did the right thing by ending it, or offer him words of comfort for what’s happened but instead she squints her eyes as she stares him down.

“You’re an idiot.” She says matter of factly as she leans back in her chair. 

“I beg your pardon?”

“You heard me. You are dumb as shit.”

“I did what needed to be done. Things were getting out of hand.”

She scoffs.

“Out of hand? So you’re allowed to do nice things for her like buy her jewelry, and take her on little dates in the garden, but she isn’t allowed to do them for you? Seems pretty stupid to me. And your game is dumb, if you want to know things about her all you have to do is ask, the poor girl would talk to the walls if they’d talk back.” She takes the pot and pours herself another mug of caf, filling his as well. He doesn’t touch it. “And you say you don’t like her rules but it sounds to me like you’re the one who needed them, she didn’t break any rules you didn’t break first.” 

He crosses his arms in front of him, ready to retort but every response dies on his tongue.

She’s right. 

And he doesn’t want to have to ask her for advice but there’s no one else to ask.

“So what do I do? How do I fix this?” 

She chokes a bit on her caf.

“Fix it? Oh hon, you’ve done a lot of damage in a short amount of time.” 

If she could see through the steel she’d see the way his ears tinged pink in embarrassment. 

“So I shouldn’t do anything?” Even he knows he sounds way too sullen. 

She sighs and contemplates for a moment. 

“Look… normally I’d say yes. But I can’t deny that she seemed happier on days when things were okay with the two of you.”

“So what should I do?” He leans forward a bit in his seat. 

“I’d start with an apology, and you better make it good, especially after what you’ve put her through.” 

“Okay. Tomorrow I will try that.” 

He does, try, that is. The most he gets out is static, a crackle of his modulator before he shuts right up. He’s pretty sure you notice. 

“And then, no more lies. No more beating around the bush. If you’re going to put her through this again you need to be certain and you need to be honest. No more pretending it’s just physical, you tell her exactly what you want and exactly how you feel.”

He also tried that. After Kodo had struck you he had pulled together all of his resolve and told himself that he would just spit it out. Instead he had accidentally insulted you and threatened your husband. 

“Okay, I can do that. Umm… What about Kodo?” She takes another sip as he speaks.

“What about him?” 

“Should I not take into account the fact that she’s married?” 

She laughs, a genuine chuckle. 

“Have you seen them together? She looks at him like he’s some mud that she’s accidentally stepped in. Look, if they were happy together, or if I ever thought they could work it out then I might tell you to back off but trust me, those two will never make it work. He’s a pathetic excuse for a man.”

He’s a bit taken aback by her words. 

“Now go. I’m gonna get some shut-eye, I’d tell you to do the same but I know you won’t.” 

He stands, nodding at her. 

“And take the caf. You need it more than I do, if you’re gonna insist on not sleeping.” She sets hers down as she stretches her arms above her head. He takes his mug gratefully in his hands. 

“...Thank you.” 

She only nods in response, he opens the door of her quarters.

“Mandalorian.” 

His hand is on the doorknob as he turns to look back at the woman. 

“Don’t play with her. Either leave her alone or put in the effort.”

He hesitates for a moment before he leaves. 

✩

When your eyes flutter open the first thing you think is that your face should be hurting, your lip should be much more swollen. 

But when your fingers poke at your lip you find it to be mostly healed. 

You stand and leave the closet, walking over to the mirror and inspecting your wounds. There’s no trace of the red welt you would have thought you’d have. The only trace of the incident is a faint pink and white line through your lip. 

Finding the vial on the bed you carefully walk over to the mirror and apply another layer to the mark as Elaine and Lysa knock once as a warning before stepping into the room. You set the tube down on the vanity. 

It’s another hazy morning. 

They really are all blending together when you don’t have things to do. 

You’re dressed in a lacy orange gown. It’s flowy and cool, it seems like it would be perfect for a day in the gardens. Before you even realize what you’re doing you turn to Elaine. 

“Would you like to have tea with me today?” You have no idea what inspires you to ask such a question and you’re sure she’ll say no. That she’ll tell you it isn’t proper for a servant to do such a thing with you but instead she nods.

“That would be lovely, my lady. Where would you like to have it?” She wipes her hands on the front of her dress as she gives you a patient smile. 

“How about the gardens? There’s that gazebo by the water we could sit at.”

✩

You have no idea when she instructed someone to set it up but as the two of you walk towards the gardens there is miraculously already a table with chairs set up inside. A tray of tea steaming in the center of it all. 

You walk in silence, in all honestly it would probably be a comfortable silence if it weren’t for the looming presence of the Mandalorian behind you. Once the two of you step into the wooden structure, taking your seats you clear your throat, awkwardly, seeing him standing beside you in your peripherals. 

Elaine stares at him and the both of you sit, looking at each other uncomfortably until you finally turn and speak to him. 

“Can we have some privacy?” You shoot him a look as you say it and he takes a single, theatrical step back. 

Jackass. 

You’re about to just give up, he’s never wavered previously, why would he start now? But Elaine speaks up.

“I believe she asked for privacy.” 

You lean over towards her to tell her it’s useless, there’s no sense in arguing with him but your eyes go wide as he begins to walk away. You turn to stare at Elaine like she just performed an act of god. 

As the Mandalorian starts walking along the edge of the water you can’t seem to pick your jaw up off the floor, you have more questions than ever for her but none of them seem to flow, so she speaks first. 

“Do you want to talk about what happened at dinner last night?” She’s pouring tea into the mugs, mixing a generous amount of sugar and cream into yours. 

“You heard about that?” The nearly invisible mark on your face stings at the memory.

“Servants talk, I’m afraid it was inevitable that I would hear of it. Do you want to tell me what happened?” She hands you the mug and you take it in both your hands. 

She doesn’t ask if you’re okay. 

Like she knows you couldn’t possibly be. 

“Not really. There isn’t much to talk about, it all happened really fast.” You take a sip, it’s sweet just like the caf she makes you, it warms your tongue and puts you at ease. 

She hums softly, sipping her own, much darker tea. 

“He’s always had a temper that one, the king and queen did not keep a close enough eye on him growing up, and when no one ever says no it’s easy to quickly become a little monster.” She frowns as she speaks and you have to fight to keep the surprised look off your face, the servants never spoke ill of him.

You know this is probably a dangerous conversation but at this point you’re so lonely and things can’t possibly get worse. 

“Honestly, I’m just surprised it didn’t happen sooner. I knew with his pattern of behavior it was inevitable.” You mutter.

She has a breathy sad laugh. 

“Smart girl.” She raises her cup towards Mando. He looks like a kid being left out of a game on the playground as he kicks a stone into the lake. “He seems more upset about it than you.” She raises her eyebrows, now you’re really treading dangerous waters. 

“Mando? He doesn’t care, I think he just doesn’t want me getting banged up because it makes him look like he’s bad at his job.” Deep down you know that isn’t the case.

“Really? So he wasn’t the one who tore that book in half that I found in the hallway this morning?” She takes another sip as she stares at him out across the water, you choke on your tea.

“In half?” Your voice is a shocked whisper. It had been by no means a short book. It had been a hardcover, thick encyclopedia. 

“In half. Took Leo quite some time to pick up all that shredded paper.” She chuckles. Setting down her mug as she stares at you with an intensity you weren’t prepared for. 

She takes a deep breath that has you nervously tapping your nails against your cup. 

“I know that it’s hard, being in your position, to find people to confide in. But if you ever need to talk about something that’s bothering you, I am available, my lady. And I can be extremely discreet.” She folds her hands in her lap as you stare down at them. Unable to meet her gaze. 

What a breath of fresh air it would be, to have a friend, with no other complicated feelings. But you can’t just tell her what you’ve done. 

“I am not blind, princess. It’s my job to make sure you’re okay. And I know for a fact that you were doing more than okay for a few days and in an instant I saw all of that disappear.” She tilts her head down so she’s in your eyeline and you’re sure your face has a look of guilt on it. 

If it was just your life on the line you’d probably tell her everything. Just to get it out. But it’s not just your life, it’s his. You shudder as you imagine the things Kodo would do to him if he found out. 

But you could twist the truth. 

Tell her harmless details and maybe still find some comfort.

“He had been my friend. Briefly.” Your words are careful and deliberate. 

She nods, picking up her glass once more. Staying silent as an invitation for you to keep going. 

“At least… I thought he was my friend. Now I sort of think he might have just been messing with me.” You’re still being cautious with every detail you reveal. Keeping it simple and innocent. “And I guess he got bored. It’s confusing, I can’t keep up with him, it makes my head spin because he keeps changing.”

“Changing?”

She picks up the teapot, refilling your mugs. 

“It’s… hard to explain. It’s like, he’s a different person everyday. Some days he can’t stand me and some days he-“ You manage to catch yourself before you go one step too far. “Some days he cares for me. I’m starting to wonder if he just enjoys making me miserable.” You pour another spoonful of sugar into your mug. 

“I think he cares for you very much.” She says it so matter of factly that you almost roll your eyes at the notion.

“I doubt that. If that is the case he has a really fucked up way of showing it.”

“Look at him.” She nods out towards the lake and when you turn he’s crouched down next to the edge of the water. 

He’s deadly still for a moment and then he slowly reaches down and scoops something up from the surface of the water. Holding it close to his helmet as he stands. Completely focused on whatever is in his hand. 

He looks strangely domesticated. 

You watch as what you now realize is a frog, jumps out of his hand back into the lake. 

He stares at his empty palm for a long time. 

“He looks like a lost puppy without you. I have to wonder what he was doing before he took this job because it seems like he doesn't know what to do with himself when he isn’t wagging his tail and trailing behind you.” She chuckles and you can’t help but laugh softly with her. 

It feels good to laugh. 

It feels less good to blurt out your next question. 

“Have you ever, umm… talked to him?” You don’t want to ask it, it feels so childish but you can’t help it as you turn back to face her, hoping there isn’t any lingering jealousy in your tone. 

“A little bit. Enough to know that I’m right, he does care for you.” 

You cough awkwardly. 

“What did he say?”

You catch her smirk right before she takes another sip. 

“Mostly he seemed to have a lot of excuses. But I think his real issue is just that he’s scared.”

Huh. 

It’s difficult to picture him scared of anything. 

“Scared?”

“I think this is a conversation you should be having with him.”

“But he won’t talk to me, the first time he’s spoken to me all week was only because of what Kodo did.”

“It isn’t my place to tell you how to deal with him. I just know that you seemed happier when things were good between the two of you.” 

It’s quiet for a few minutes as the two if you drink and you come to terms with her words. She speaks first.

“He doesn’t sleep either.” 

“What?”

“The Mandalorian. He isn’t sleeping. He just sits in front of your door all night.”

You had suspected that to be the case but the confirmation makes your heart skip a beat. 

“He just sits there? What is he doing?”

“I only see him there in passing, I do a lot of my errands at night, I’m more productive when I’m the only one roaming the castle. It seems like he’s just waiting for you.” 

You frown. 

“Waiting for me to do what?”

She laughs. 

“He’s just waiting for you.”

There’s that ache in your chest. She leans forward to give you a sympathetic look, your pain must show on your face. 

“How about we talk about something else for a bit?” Her voice is soft and comforting as you nod. 

“What about you, do you have a special someone?” You laugh for a moment until you realize your slip up and the color drains from your face. “Like, a friend.”

Real smooth, dummy. 

She doesn’t seem fazed though as she grins. 

“Yeah, I’ve got a special friend.” She laughs to herself and you relax a bit. She looks towards the lake and back at you before raising her eyebrows. He’s walking back over as she changes the subject. “What are you planning on wearing tomorrow?”

You can’t help but laugh. 

“How should I know? You and Lysa always pick for me.” She rolls her eyes at your response. 

“I meant to the ball.”

The confusion must be apparent on your face because she sighs. 

“Of course no one told you. Maker, is anyone else in the castle capable of treating you like a person other than me?” She pinches the bridge of her nose. “Kodo’s birthday is tomorrow. He makes a big deal of it every year, it’s a huge party, you of course will be expected to attend.”

You don’t bother stifling your groan.

“And I absolutely have to go to this?” 

She pats your knee as she leans back in her chair, eyeing the Mandalorian up and down as he walks into the gazebo, standing on the opposite side of it, away from the two of you. 

“I’m afraid you do, but don’t fret, he’s always so preoccupied during this thing that you won’t have to worry about staying for long. You’ll just need to make an appearance as his wife for a bit and you should be able to leave after a few hours if you'd like. It tends to get a bit rowdy as the night goes on so I suggest getting out once the opportunity presents itself.” 

You nod, this must be is what it feels like to have a friend. 

It makes you realize that you and the Mandalorian had never really been friends, that was completely different than what this was. With him there was always something more there, something demanding your attention that you always managed to ignore. With Elaine it’s easy to just talk without any other feelings lingering in the air. 

“I suppose I will wear whatever you decide is best.” You give her a grin.

“If that is what you wish.”

“But not blue.” She raises an eyebrow as you say that but she’s smirking.

“Excellent choice.”

Your eyes dart over to the Mandalorian, he’s facing away from the two of you, giving you a false sense of privacy as you look back to Elaine. 

“And not green.” 

“As you wish, my lady.” 

You don’t talk about much else of importance after that. She tells you that she wants to make dresses someday, and you tell her about some of the romance novels you’ve read. 

The Mandalorian stays in the gazebo, a reminder to keep things light. 

She tells you that Lysa is a rather talented piano player, and that Leodall dreams of one day becoming a lord or a duke. It’s nice, casual. You want to do it again at some point and when you tell her that, she happily agrees. 

Eventually she walks you back to the castle, he walks behind the two of you, always just out of reach until you make it back inside.

You can’t help it.

You hug her.

Mumbling a thank you, because you feel worlds better after having a conversation with someone with no tensions and no ulterior motives. 

She departs and you walk to the library, reading another cheesy romance novel at your drawing table until the sun has set. 

He still doesn’t speak, every so often he’ll pace the length of the room at one point you’re pretty sure he trips over nothing. How odd. You return to your quarters as always, ready to turn in for the night.

✩

Except you can’t.

You pace back and forth throughout your room. Your bare feet shuffling across the cool wood floors. 

He’s ruining your sleep again. 

Because now you can’t close your eyes without thinking about how he’s out there, waiting for you. 

You had wanted comfort and maybe even closure from Elaine but instead you’re more confused than ever. 

He wants you, he doesn’t want you, he hates you, he’s willing to die for you. None of it makes sense and he’s out there. 

Your chest hurts thinking about him all alone out there every night. Even if he hates you, and doesn’t want you. 

You’d feel better if he was at least sleeping out there. But no, he’s awake and aware and always there. 

Is he listening in? Has he turned up the helmet to listen to the soft patter of your footsteps? Why would he be doing that? He’s supposed to not care about you, to not want you. But according to Elaine that isn’t the case? Every single hour he gets more and more confusing, you want to scream at him. You want to punch him in his stupid Beskar face. (Mostly because you know it wouldn’t really hurt him all that bad.) You want to demand answers, demand he leave you alone, or demand he take it all back.

Could you forgive him?

You’re pretty sure you want to forgive him.

You just aren’t sure if you can. 

That is, of course, if he ever apologizes. 

Does he want to apologize?

Why would he have said all those things in the first place if he didn’t mean them?

You don’t remember opening the door. But right now you’re staring down at him and he’s staring up at you, so you must have at one point. He’s sitting with his legs out in front of him as you take a step back, leaving the door open. 

A silent invitation in. 

You’re worried for a moment that he isn’t going to accept it but he slowly gets to his feet. Stretching his arms back a bit with a groan as he takes a step in. 

You hadn’t seen it before but now you don’t know how you didn't realize how exhausted he looks. You don’t even know how he’s still standing as he stumbles into the room as you close the door, clicking the lock shut. 

His shoulders are slumped forward, his usual imposing posture is completely gone and his helmet keeps tilting downwards before jolting back up, like he’s barely keeping his eyes open. 

It’s torture, never being able to stay angry at him. 

You had no plan when you’d let him in. Maybe yell at him, demand answers, demand he free you of this curse that is wanting to be his. 

But you can’t do that. Not when he’s looking around like he doesn’t even know where he is. Maker, when was the last time he slept? 

Reaching forward you take his hand, leading him over to the bed and sitting him down. 

“Mando?” You say it like you’re speaking to a lost child who can’t find their parents. 

He hums softly in response, the helmet tilting up to look at you as you give his hand a gentle squeeze. 

“You’re gonna sleep here. The door is locked so you don’t have to worry about anyone taking off your helmet, okay?”

He nods and your heart stops as his hand comes up to your face. His thumb brushes over the nearly completely faded line on your lip. 

“M’sorry… ner sarad’ika. Bid ni ceta.” His voice is a warm sleepy drawl and you have to close your eyes so he doesn’t see the pained look you have when he starts speaking in that soft tone, the gentle one you feel like you haven’t heard in ages, the one that’s just for you. You can’t help but wonder if he’ll remember any of this tomorrow. 

“Don’t be sorry. You didn’t do this, remember? It was Kodo, not you.” You gingerly pull his hand from your face as you hold his arms, laying him down against the mattress. 

You shouldn’t, not when he’s clearly so vulnerable but you can’t help yourself as you run your knuckles against the cold steel of his helmet, trying to soothe him. 

“That’s not what I’m sorry about mesh’la.” His hands reach forward, asking for you, and you have to use all of your self control to not give in and just hold him. You settle for giving him your hands as you nod. 

You need this to end. It’s too much and you know it’ll be gone in the morning. Once he gets some sleep he’ll be gone again. Standing behind you, your shadow. Not like right now, where he’s in front of you, and needs you. You can’t lose this again, you won’t be able to take it so you start to walk away but he pulls you down so you’re sitting next to him and he’s so gentle about it. He’s so out of it right now, he should be in his default state right now, he’s a trained killer, he should naturally be rough and aggressive with you, but he isn’t. 

Even in this condition he makes a conscious choice to handle you like you might crumble to pieces if he isn’t careful. 

At this point you might. 

“I need to go to bed, Mando. I’ll be in the closet, right there if you need me.” 

His grip on your hands tightens ever so slightly. 

“Y’know that m’sorry, right? I need to know that you know.” His voice cracks on the last word and his voice is laced with a desperation you’ve never heard from him before. You even hear a little sniffle through the modulator.

Maker he must really be sleep deprived. 

It feels like drowning. He’s taking you out into open waters with these words and in the morning he’ll be gone and you’ll be left without a life jacket. 

“I know Mando.” His grip loosens enough for you to stand up. Your voice is strained. “I promise, I know, but I need you to get some sleep now, can you do that for me?”

He hesitates. Like he’s trying to make sure you understand. 

“Okay, sarad’ika.”

He nods as he releases your hands, his shoulders relax and he’s asleep in minutes. Once you’ve certain he’s out cold you go back to the closet, leaving the door cracked in case he needs something as you curl up in your blankets. 

Your hands fish around in the sheets and pillows until you find the book, pulling it out you open it and let the necklace he had given you fall out. Cradling it in your hands you trace the small charm with your fingers. 

Sarad’ika. 

He can’t do that to you. 

He can’t just call you that again after what he did. 

Bodyguard, rival, friend, protector, confidant, lover, nothing. 

He decided he wanted to be nothing. So why should he get to say sweet things in Mando’a to you with no repercussions? 

It makes your blood boil as you shove the necklace into one of the pillow cases, getting ready to go back out there and give him a piece of your mind but as you’re about to stand and pull yourself together you can hear rumbling, static snores from the other room.

And you can’t help but crack a smile. 

He sounds like a fucking Wookiee when he snores. 

Something about it makes you lay back down.

Like it reminds you that under all that perfect metal he is still only a man. 

He needs sleep.

So do you. 

Being angry with him can wait until tomorrow. 

I am no longer doing taglists so follow @lincolndjarinnotifs and turn on notifications to be notified when new chapters are posted !!

[sissylittlefeather]

How the Web Was Woven: Chapter 6

A/N: I'm sorry this one took so long! I have a hard time writing sometimes, but y'all keep me inspired and I thank you for it. ICYMI, this is the time travel/soulmate AU with Elvis and a fem!reader.

Need to catch up? Here's my Masterlist.

Special thanks to @ccab for loving this series so much that I can't abandon it. This one's for you, baby.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, kissing, cussing, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), p in v penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, AND DRINKING, POSSIBLE ALCOHOLISM, and ANGSTTTTTT

Word count: ~3.5k

There's no way he's leaving you now. Not like this.

******

When your alarm goes off the next morning you roll over and groan, turning it off haphazardly. Elvis has been awake for a while, watching you sleep. He knows today might be rough for you, but he has a question that's burning in his mind and just won't go away. Seeing you last night has him worried about your wellbeing.

"You alright, honey?"

"Mmm. No." You groan and snuggle into his chest. Your hangover has your head pounding and your stomach rolling over. You want nothing more than to sleep in his arms for the next 24 hours, but he seems determined to wake you up.

"You need food. Come on." He tries to get you out of the bed, but you don't move.

"Later. I need sleep."

"Y/n, it's almost noon." You laugh.

"So much for my 10:30 class."

"Come on, honey. We gotta get up."

"Why??" You whine and snuggle under the covers again.

"Because we need to talk." This gets your attention. It doesn't sound like he has a good talk in mind. Has he had enough of you? You should've known this was coming. You've been a mess for almost two years now. It makes sense that he would notice it and want to cut ties as soon as possible. Making a portal will be difficult if he doesn't love you or even like you anymore. You sit up and grimace.

"Talk about what?"

"Let's just go get some food." Somehow, you manage to slink out of bed and get some clothes on. You know you must look terrible, but you don't care. It matches the way you feel, both physically and emotionally. He's not even gone yet and you already miss him.

About twenty minutes later, you find yourself in a booth at a local breakfast place and he waits for you to finish as many fried potatoes as you can stomach before he comes back to his question.

"Y/n, I told you we need to talk about something."

"I know. You're ready to leave and never come back, aren't you?"

"What? No. The exact opposite. I'm worried about you."

"About me? Why?"

"Are you happy?"

"Right now?" You look around the restaurant and consider your current level of happiness.

"No. When I'm not here. Are you... are you okay?" You look down at your hands. So he has picked up on the fact that you're not doing so great. You think for a long time before you answer him. Should you be honest and tell him that you've been miserable every day for almost two years? Or should you act like everything is fine, so he'll go back through the portal to his own life? You look back up into his eyes and know you can't lie.

"No. I'm not." He grabs your hand where it sits on the table and watches as your eyes fill with tears.

"That's what I was afraid of. It's my fault isn't it?" He rubs small circles on the back of your hand.

"No, Elvis it's not you. I just should never have left you alone. I know how much it hurt you. I'll regret it forever." A single tear slides down your cheek.

"Honey, no. You had to go. We didn't know any other way. I understand that. I don't blame you for anything." He stands up and scoots in next to you on your side of the booth as the tears start to stream down your face and your shoulders quake with the intensity of your sadness. You feel his arm wrap around you and he holds you as tightly as he can without hurting you. You cry and cry into his chest and it feels like all the pain from the last two years finally has some release.

He holds you and looks at the ceiling trying not to let his own tears fall. His resolve to never leave you gets stronger and stronger. How could he when he knows how badly you need him?

******

You spend the next week together and slowly you start to feel better. His presence is reassuring and almost healing. Knowing that he's forgiven you does wonders for your depression. Still, every time he ignores a portal, a small part of you worries that he might be missing his last chance. You know he has to go back. He has to become the man the world knows. And as much as you want to keep him here, you know he can't stay forever.

On Friday, one of your friends invites you to a party at his house. Elvis is nervous about you drinking again, but he agrees to come along just to be with you. Before you head over, your friends come over to pre-party like always. The shots of Fireball start to go around again and Elvis throws back two just to try to ease his nerves about how the night will go. He has a bad feeling, for some reason, but the Fireball helps.

By the time you get to the party, you're both pretty relaxed and ready to have a good time. You stay together and mingle with the other party guests. When you decide it's time for a second drink, though he tries to stop you gently.

"Y/n, are you sure? Remember how you felt on Monday?" You stop and look up at him surprised.

"I'm sorry; are you my dad now?" He rolls his eyes as you walk away to get another drink. He follows close behind you.

"No, I'm just sayin' maybe you don't really wanna do this again." He steps in between you and the bar. "You know I love you. I just want what's best for you."

"Ha. Okay. How about this: I'll listen to you when you start listening to me about leaving." The alcohol in your system makes you brazen. You can't ignore it anymore.

"That is not the same at all, honey."

"Except it is. I know what's best for you, you know what's best for me. Now, let me get a drink, please." The thought of sending him through the portal inspires you to drink even more, but you know it has to be done. Maybe if you push him away now, it'll be easier for both of you. He steps out of the way to let you walk up to the bar. To your surprise, he gets himself another two shots of Fireball. This may not end well for either of you. When you get away from the bar, he puts his arm around your waist and pulls you in close. You think back to your earlier plan to push him away. Despite the unbelievable comfort you find in his embrace, you know now is the time.

"You know, you don't always have to stay with me. You can walk around and talk to people. I'm fine." He looks down into your face, shocked.

"Doll, I'm perfectly happy to stay right here. Fore-"

"Don't say it." You interrupt him before he can. This whole situation is breaking your heart and you just need him to get it over with and go. Before either of you can say anything else though, your friend, Zach, that lives at the house calls to him.

"John! What's up, man?" He pats him on the back and shakes his hand. Elvis quickly rearranges his face to hide everything he's feeling as a result of your conversation. Sometimes you forget he's such a talented performer, but watching him change like this brings it all back to you.

They chat for a bit about music, since Zach was present for Elvis's karaoke success and he plays the guitar himself. Somehow the conversation ends with Zach fetching two guitars from his bedroom.

"Hey, yo, cut the music!" Zach hollers to no one in particular. The party music stops and the jam session begins. Luckily, Zach is an Elvis fan and there's a good number of songs they can play together. When Elvis starts to sing, you notice something you haven't before: the other girls. He certainly has their attention as they stand in various states of attraction. Some giggle, some blush, and some simply stand with their mouths slightly open. You look back at him and he's eating it up. Maybe it's the alcohol, but maybe it's just who he is. You shouldn't be surprised. You've read about him and his ways with women. It's different to see it in action when he's supposed to be with you, though. A few of them come close to him and sit down around him and he sings directly to them with a flirty smile. When he winks at your friend Stephanie, you turn away and head to the bar. There's only one guy back there, since everyone else is busy watching the music taking place in the living room.

"What're you drinkin'?"

"I don't care. Give me a shot of anything."

"A girl after my own heart." He smiles and you notice he's actually really cute with his round blue eyes and sandy brown hair fixed in a faux hawk. You take the shot that he hands you and smile in return.

"Thanks. I'm y/n." You reach out to shake his hand and he kisses yours gently.

"I'm Jeff. Pleased to make your acquaintance." He's a little dorky, but you're kind of into it.

"You're not an Elvis fan, I take it?" He asks.

"Ha, no that's not exactly... I just... it's hard to explain."

"No worries. We can talk about something else. What's the best concert you've ever been to?"

Your conversation continues while Elvis plays in the living room. He looks up from the throng of girls that has gathered around him to try to find you, but you're nowhere to be found. He turns back to Zach and hands him the guitar.

"Thanks, that was fun. I've gotta find my girl, though." The party music starts back up and the girls close in on him to try to get him to dance, or more, but he gently brushes them off. He's getting more and more nervous about your whereabouts. When he finds you, you're doing another shot with Jeff. After you finish it, you lean your head on his shoulder and laugh. You've had more than enough alcohol and you're clearly not thinking straight. Elvis stands there in shock for a good thirty seconds before he walks up to you.

"Are you having fun?"

"Oh shit, it's my boyfriend." You giggle and pop your head up.

"Something like that." He wraps his arm around you and pulls you over to him. "Come on, it's time to go."

"Maybe I don't want to leave. Maybe I want to stay here with Jeff." You gesture to the guy at the bar. Elvis's eyes burn with something you haven't seen before. It's a kind of possessive anger and jealousy and you should know not to push him. But you're drunk and sad and want to push him away, so you double down. "Maybe you should take one of your fangirls home."

"Oh shit." Jeff says and laughs out loud. Elvis turns to him and grabs the front of his shirt.

"Give me an excuse, fucker." This sobers you significantly and you step in between them facing Elvis.

"Babe, don't. Okay? I'll go with you." You almost called him Elvis in front of all these people, but you caught it at the last second. Still, the pet name seems to pull him back down to earth and soften him. He lets go of Jeff's shirt and puts his arm around your shoulders.

"Let's get the hell outta here." He guides you to the exit, forgetting that you drove and shouldn't drive home. He digs your keys out of your purse and gets you settled in the front seat. Then, he slides into your seat behind the steering wheel. He knows how to drive a car, obviously, but this is not any kind of car he's familiar with. It takes him a good ten minutes, but he eventually figures out the push-button start and how to adjust your mirrors and seat with the electric controls. While he's doing all of that, all you can do is look out the window and cry quietly. You know what needs to happen tonight. And more importantly, you know what you're sending him back to. Or rather, who you're sending him back to. He'll fall in love a few times and none of them will be with you. And then he'll get married. That won't be you either. You can't live like this anymore. You have to let him go. And the very thought of that damn near breaks you.

"Hon? What's wrong?" He's finally figured out how to drive your car and noticed that you're crying.

"You have to leave. Tonight."

"What the hell? Because of the other girls? Look, I'm sorry about that. But I don't want any of them. I don't want anyone but you." He reaches out and touches your face and it just makes you cry harder.

"No, not because of that."

"Then let's just forget about it. I'm not going anywhere." You ride the rest of the way in silence with his hand in yours, tears still sliding down your face.

Finally, you get back to your house and you've managed to stop crying. He comes around to your side to help you out of the car. You're so exhausted from the events of the evening that he half-carries you to your room.

When you make it inside, you stand in your room just looking at each other. He leans down and kisses your mouth gently. You grab the back of his neck and pull him into a deeper kiss, putting every emotion you're feeling into the movement of your tongue against his. He snakes his arms around your waist and holds you close, pushing your hips into his. You feel his erection growing and swallow the lump in your throat. He pulls back and looks into your eyes.

"You're not too drunk for this?"

"I'm really not. I promise." He sees how clear your eyes are and knows you're telling the truth, so he goes back to kissing you. You know you'll need to have sex with him to do what needs to be done. But the fact that this is probably the last time you will hits you squarely in your chest and settles there.

He pulls your shirt up and over your head and you do the same with his. He presses his chest to yours and puts his hands behind your back to undo your bra. For the first time, he manages to get it off all by himself.

"Ah ha! I got it!" He's so excited that he tosses your bra to the side and lifts you so that your legs are wrapped around his waist. You grab onto him and hold him a little too tightly. He lays you down on the bed, climbing in next to you, and puts his hand on the side of your face.

"Doll, what's wrong? Please tell me." You search for something you can tell him that won't give away your plan.

"I'm just sad again. Ignore me."

"You know I can't do that. Do you not want to do this?"

"No! I want to! I need it. Please." He remembers how you were there for him when he needed you and nods.

"Just tell me if you want me to stop." He runs his hand down your neck to your chest, massaging your breast gently. Then, he keeps going down to your hip, pulling you into him. He kisses down your neck and slides his hand under your pants and down to your center. Teasing your entrance with his finger, he gathers some of the wetness gathered there and begins to massage your clit. You moan softly and your hips buck forward into his hand.

"Does that feel good, baby?"

"God, yes."

"Good. I just wanna make you feel good tonight." You whimper as he pulls his hand out to unbutton your jeans and slide them down your legs and off. He makes his way back up to your center, pressing hot kisses to your legs along the way. When he gets back up to the place where your thighs come together, he presses a kiss to you through your panties. He pulls them off too and pushes his mouth onto you, settling his tongue on your clit. He licks up each side and then begins to move over and around it in the way that only he can.

"Yes! Elvis!" You moan loudly and run your fingers through his hair.

"That's my good girl." He says it quickly and goes back to licking you. You feel the pressure of your orgasm gathering in your center as he laps at you, moving down to slide his tongue into your slit periodically. Finally, he slips two fingers into you and pushes them in and out quickly while he tightens his tongue and drags it over your clit repeatedly.

"Oh God! I'm gonna come!" You whisper breathlessly.

"Do it, baby, come for me. I wanna feel you." Just as he ends his sentence, you feel the burst of your orgasm take off and reverberate across your body.

"Ohhhhhh, fuck, yes." You moan through gritted teeth as you pulse around his fingers. He smiles and kisses your clit one last time before taking his pants off.

The thing that's settled in your chest threatens to come screaming out of you and you feel the tears begin to gather again. As he climbs back up your body, you grab him and pull him into a kiss, hoping you can distract him from the fact that you're almost crying again. You press your forehead to his with your eyes closed and whisper.

"Make love to me, Elvis." He pulls back and looks you in the eye. Something is wrong and he knows it.

"Do you know how much I love you, y/n?"

You nod and lose control of the tears as they run down your cheeks. "You're sure this is what you want?"

"Yes, please. I need to know you love me." He lines his cock up with your entrance and pushes into you slowly. When he fills you fully, he pulls back and slides into you again.

"I love you more than I ever thought was possible." He kisses your cheek and thrusts into you again. "I love you so much that I don't even feel like I'm fully myself without you." Your voice catches in your throat.

"Please don't say that."

"Y/n, I love you with everything that I am." He continues to push into you slowly, picking up speed with each thrust. You grab him and hold him tightly while he moves against you. You wrap your legs around him and try to get as close to him as possible. If you could, you'd melt into him completely and stay with him forever. But you can't and you know that. So instead you hold him and cry silently as he drives into you as gently and lovingly as possible.

"I'm gettin' close, doll." You nod and he kisses the tears on your cheeks. He begins to pump in and out faster before he reaches his climax and moans loudly, shuddering into you. He pulls out of you and rolls over, cradling you against his chest.

When you hear the buzzing sound, you squeeze him tight and then stand up. Your hands are shaking and the tears continue to flow.

"Get up, Elvis. You have to get dressed."

"What? No. I told you-"

"Do you want to go through naked?!" You yell at him and he stands up ready to fight you on this.

"I'm not going! I'm staying here with you forever, y/n! I can't leave you. You're the love of my life."

"No. I'm not. You have to go back to her. You have to get married and be a dad. I can't take those things from you." You toss him his pants and he puts them on without thinking.

"Then I'll marry you. I'll have babies with you. That's what I want anyway!"

"You can't. Elvis, God, I'm so sorry. I'm so so so sorry. You know I will always love you, right?"

"Sorry? Sorry for what?"

"For this." You shove the rest of his uniform into his hands and push on his chest with both hands as hard as you can. You manage to catch him off guard just enough and he stumbles backwards, falling through the portal.

"Nooo!!" You hear him yell as he disappears.

The portal closes with a pop.

You fall to the floor and sob openly.

******

Back in 1960, Elvis falls backwards onto the floor of the train station and scrambles into the bathroom. He manages to get his uniform back on and then slides down the wall, tears streaming down his face.

What will happen to you without him?

Will he ever see you again?

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Will there be a next chapter?

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist:

@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @ashtag6887 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @that-hotdog @eddiesgirlforever @helen06dreamer @returntopresley