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myg-butterfly · 1 year

Text

Goodnight (Love)

Jimin x Reader – Spy!Au

Hurt/Comfort, Angst/Fluff, Enemies(?)/Lovers(?), Non-Idol Au, One-Shot

Part 2

Summary: You and Jimin hold an unwavering grudge against each other, but for what reason? Or, when you and Jimin get partnered for a case together, emotions arise, and so do the stakes. Pride and vulnerability are an explosive pair; will you both set each other off into flames?

Warnings (Buckle up folks because there's a lot): THIS STORY CONTAINS THEMES OF HARASSMENT AND IMPLICATIONS OF S/A!!! DO NOT READ IF THOSE TOPICS ARE TOO HARSH FOR YOU!!! Angst, panic attacks, anxiety, descriptions of violence (like a single fight), sexual assault (no non-con sex happens i swear), misogyny if you squint, Jimin is an asshole at times, trauma, trauma flashbacks, horrible communication tbh, implied abuse, implied s/a

Disclaimers: I am in no way, shape, or form trying to romanticize these sensitive topics, I simply want to show that comfort can be found after said situations. Please do not leave any comments about glamorizing any of the topic.

A/N: Hello hi author here! I haven't thoroughly proof read this oopsies but we'll get there when we get there. There's a lot of time-skips in this btw, and I also just made shit up because I don't really have any clue as to what spies or agents do or whatever (lol)

Taglist: @screamertannie

main masterlist

∘⁺✧◞₊⋅✱

"This mission is risky, as it's heavily reliant on precision and strategy, so we'll have to be very careful with who we send."

"I have the perfect pair in mind."

∘⁺✧◞₊⋅✱

"You're fucking kidding me."

Jimin stares in disbelief at his bosses, Seokjin and Namjoon, not knowing why they thought it would be a good idea to partner you together.

"I don't care whatever personal vendetta y'all have against each other, you both are the most reliable option we have. So put your willy-nillies aside and get your head in the game."

Namjoon shoots Jin a disapproving glare at his choice of words.

"Please never say willy-nilly again."

∘⁺✧◞₊⋅✱

You never thought it was possible for so much tension to fit inside a singular car, yet you and Jimin seemed to be breaking that record currently:

"Listen, I want to get this done as soon as possible, so please just listen to me and do what I tell you and I can finally stay away from your annoying ass."

"As long as you listen to me as well, it'll be a smooth sail."

"And why do I have to listen to you?"

"We listen to each other, it's called teamwork; hence the fact that we're a team, and we work tog-"

"I know what teamwork is – I'm not stupid. But I specialize in retrieving information, so I think we both know who has sufficient knowledge to lead this case."

"One of the requirements to be recruited is being able to safely retrieve information, so technically even though I'm not centered in the encryption department, we still have the same level of expertise in the field of-"

"Do you ever shut the fuck up?"

"I do."

"Great well do that now."

"If it means you stop running your mouth as well then I will."

It isn't that Jimin hates you specifically, he just hates how stoic you are all of the time. No matter what case you had to take on, what was going on around you, your cold demeanor never faltered — and that pissed Jimin off.

I mean, who were you to be so stand-offish to all of your colleagues? Did you think you were better than everyone else? Is that why you never spoke up unless you were giving your 2 cents on the approach the organization should take on the case given. And it pissed him off even more how you were always right, how Namjoon and Jin always agreed with whatever you had to say.

Jimin didn't hate you specifically, but he hated your face and how nice it was to look at and your annoyingly smart brain and your voice that was so soothing to listen to.

∘⁺✧◞₊⋅✱

"Jimin, I'm telling you, having me go undercover isn't safe or efficient. The man who has the information we need is kno-"

"Are you admitting that you don't have the guts to complete this mission? What happened to commitment?"

Strategizing with Jimin felt like being a court trial where anything and everything you said would be used against you.

"I am committed. That's why I'm telling you that this isn't a good strategy."

"And why not? We've used it countless times before and it's worked, what's different now? All those men are the same, just play them to your will. Is that really so hard for you to do?"

"It's not good because it's not safe. Chances are that not only will I walk out of there severely injured, but you will too. And what happens then?"

"All I'm hearing is that you're too scared to do it. If that's the case, then why don't you just go home? I can even go ahead and call Jin hyung and tell him that you chickened out-"

"I am not chickening out."

"Then just trust my plan, princess. It's never failed me, and it's not going to start now."

"....... Fine. But don't call me that."

"No can do, princess."

∘⁺✧◞₊⋅✱

As you walk into the large fancy venue where the event was being held, the urge to run and hide became much more prominent.

You doubt that he remembers you, you were small when it happened, and now you'd grown.

That should bring some form of comfort, but it doesn't.

Because even if he doesn't recognize you, you would never be able to forget those months.

What he did changed you as a person forever, and for the worse as well.

You walk tentatively, saying hello to people you come across, until you find who you're looking for.

Upon seeing his face, it felt like a kick had just impacted your gut, like if you were dumped into a freezing lake with nothing on. Your mouth dried and the room began to spin, and you almost ran away, almost cowered back to safety, but you were stopped by-

"Dumbass, he's right there all by himself. Approach him, quick."

Hesitantly you started your way towards him.

"Jimin, turn my earpiece's mic sensitivity up."

"Why?"

"Please, I need you to be able to catch anything."

"Fine."

Seeing he was grabbing a glass of wine by himself, you took the opportunity to slide in next to him.

"Excuse me, sir? Do you happen to know what kind of wine this might be?"

"Cherry wine, madam. Would you like to try one?"

"Yes, please. Thank you."

"It's no problem. If you don't mind me asking, is someone accompanying you tonight?"

"Oh, no. I'm here by myself. I got invited by mutual friends."

"Ah, I see. So then, you wouldn't mind joining me tonight? I have a table right over there if you'd like to sit."

"I'd love to join you. Please, lead the way."

After some brief moments of small talk, Jimin gives you the okay to start trying to pull information out of him.

"This venue is so lovely, I wish I could see all of it in full." You started prying. "Well, actually, one of my closest partners runs the venue, if you'd like I could ask him if it's okay for me to give you a tour?"

"Would you really?"

"Of course, anything for such a delightful woman as yourself."

"Oh, you're too kind."

∘⁺✧◞₊⋅✱

The tour was going well as good as your given position allowed. You managed to ask about almost each room, giving Jimin any helpful information through your earpiece.

That was until you got to the third floor.

You were trying as hard as you could to push through being in his presence, when you'd been going up the stairs you stumbled for a second, and his hand reached out to "stabilize" you. You managed to regain your balance, still his wrinkled hand remained on the small of your back, a little lower than appropriate, and that was all it took to push you to the edge.

"Um, excuse me, do you mind if we pause for a short while so I can use the restroom?"

"That's totally okay. Do you want me to lead you to the one on this floor?"

"Oh, no. Thank you, I'll use the one from the previous floor. You can wait for me here. I won't be long."

Running down the stairs quickly, your head began to spin with fear.

All of the haunting memories you'd managed to drown out in the deepest parts of your brain resurfaced within a flash, and suddenly its like if you were back where you were less than two years ago.

Rough hands around your waist, liquor scented breath hitting your face, the cold air biting your exposed skin – you remembered it so vividly that you could almost feel it happening to you.

You could feel the harsh tone of voice, taunting you, painting you with shame.

'You should be thankful for all that I do for you. I'm the only person that can stand you after all.'

"Why the hell are you going to the bathroom? Don't stall, you idiot. We need to get this done."

"Right. Yeah. Right."

You stood up and walked towards the door, but you couldn't bring yourself to twist the doorknob. The thought of having to continue with him had your breathing quickening, and your vision shaking, it was all too much at once.

All Jimin could hear was your shallow breathing, and strangely, he found himself growing worried.

"Y/N? What's going on?"

"I can't- I can't do it-"

"What do you mean?"

"I- I need to get out of here."

"Y/N, what's wrong?"

"I can't be here, please Jimin."

Jimin burrowed his eyebrows in confusion, not understanding what caused you to get so worked up. He was even more confused when he felt himself progressively getting more concerned for your well-being.

"Where are you right now?"

“Um, a bathroom in floor 2."

"And you told the guy to stay in the third floor, right?"

"Yeah." You hear Jimin sigh, and you know he's upset with you, but your brain can't fully process that right now.

"I can't believe you're actually pussying out of this right now."

"Jimin, please."

The crack in your voice left an uncomfortable buzz in his chest, and Jimin found himself caving in.

"Okay, fine. I'll find a distraction for him so you can leave while he's busy. Only because we stil have tomorrow to do this and we've made progress."

"Thank you-"

"Don't, we still have to get this shit done tomorrow."

∘⁺✧◞₊⋅✱

You thought you'd be relieved as you finally got the chance to run out of the building, but guilt was heavy on your chest. The sound of Jimin's frustrated voice made you uneasy; you've never really been on his good side, but hearing him sound so disappointed in you drilled a hole into your pride.

He watches you as you open the car door and clumsily jump in, and Jimin can't stop his frown from deepening further when he sees your usually sparkly eyes tainted a light color of red, one that matches your nose and cheeks. You take his expression as one of disapproval, and you shrink in your seat, hoping that it'll swallow you whole. You were triggered as it is, an angry Jimin would not help you whatsoever.

Obviously, the only thing he could come up with was to scold you, because what else was he supposed to do? Wipe away your tears gently and destroy anything that would cause those tears to resurface? Yeah, of course not. Not that he wouldn't be willing to if you asked him, but he'll try to convince himself it's only because he's a good person. No ulterior motive.

"This better be a one time thing, eh? No one wants to work with someone unreliable, and leaving was one hell of a liability."

"I know."

"Then why did you do it?"

The words got stuck in your throat; you couldn't tell him that this guy had abused you for years on end of your adolesence. You refused to let anyone see that side of you.

"It wasn't safe, and it wasn't worth risking it."

"I didn't see any threats in the security cameras, and everything in your earpiece sounded fine. What was unsafe?"A tentative moment of silence passes before:

"Him."

You spoke so softly that you thought Jimin hadn't heard you, until you heard a sigh from him.

"We work with dangerous people all the time, there's no difference here, princess."

The name had clear condecendicy laced within it, and it made the sting in your eyes return quickly; it reminded you of him, and now the memories were fresh. You turned your face out the window, hoping that Jimin didn't catch sight of them.

But he did, and great. What else is he supposed do? to destroy himself then? Being harsh is supposed to be what keeps you from getting hurt by him, so why is that no matter what he does, the outcome is always rough?

The rest of the car ride was silent, the emptyness of nightfall very clear amongst the dark.

∘⁺✧◞₊⋅✱

"Will you stop moving so goddamn much? Some of us are trying to sleep here."

"Why are you referring to yourself with plurality? The only ones here are you and I, and your comment is directed at me so-"

"It's too late for your smartass."

"Well, it's currently 1 in the morning, so technically-"

"Less talking more sleeping."

"Okay."

You'd stopped moving, and Jimin was about to completely pass out, when the shuffling started again.

"Y/N I swear to god-" he groaned, annoyed that you interrupted his sleep again.

But when he looked over, you were sitting up on your bed, a pained expression covering your face.

Jimin sighed and sat up as well, mumbling under his breath about how 'it's always something with you'. Still he asked:

"What happened now?"

You hesitated to answer before responding.

"Did you do it on purpose?"

"Do what?"

"Send me in there, knowing who he is?”

"I genuinely don't have a clue of what you're talking about."

"I knew you hated me but I really didn't think you would go to such lengths."

"Stop speaking in riddles and just say whatever it is you want to say."

"Do you really not know about him?"

"Stop acting like you know better than I do just because you know about some rando that I've never heard of."

"I'm not trying to act like I know better, because I do know better. I know who we're up against, and I know that Seokjin and Namjoon would agree that sending me in there by myself is a shit decision."

"Why would they give us the case then if it's so dangerous, huh? Maybe you're just too much of a scaredy-cat to handle this case. Why don't you go and whine to our bosses that the task is 'too hard' if you're so set on them agreeing with you?"

Jimin's words felt like a stab straight through your heart, and all you could do was bleed out in silence.

"If I were them, I'd be real disappointed if someone I handpicked for a job as prestigious as this one called me and told me they didn't wanna do it because it's too hard."

The mention of disappointing your bosses made your stomach twist with anxiety. Just when you'd begun to learn to protect yourself, you're suddenly getting berated for it?

"Do you want me to complete this task or not?"

"Of course I fucking do. That's why I'm telling you that you need to suck it up."

"Degradation isn't going to motivate me, so you can stop trying to make me feel like shit. Are you happy? Because it sure is working."

"See? This is what I mean. For someone who acts so stoic all the time you sure are goddamn sensitive."

"Jimin, please. Drop it. I get it. You win."

"Stop whin- wait, what?"

You blinked at Jimin, before sighing and laying back down, shuffling around and throwing a blanket over your head.

For some reason, this made his heart twist in an uncomfortable way.

Jimin took a deep breath and told himself that it definitely wasn't because he felt like crying at seeing your defeated expression, he was just shocked that you didn't continue arguing with him.

Yeah. That's what it is. Totally what it is.

∘⁺✧◞₊⋅✱

Day 2 of the event begins, and your fear is drowned out enough to tolerate it by your desperation to get this over with.

"Okay, he's in there. Go. No chickening out this time, okay?"

"Yes. Whatever."

"Good."

You find him standing by the small bar they have across the venue, and you muster up any remaining strength inside yourself as you begin to approach the man who haunts your every move.

"What kind of wine are you honoring tonight?" You use the same conversation starter as last time, and the guy jumps; you caught him off-guard.

"Oh, my dear, it's you. I am so glad we meet again." His smirk grew, and if you didn't know any better, you would think that it's one of excitement rather than perversion.

"So am I."

"I was afraid you'd pulled a classic Cinderella on me after that first night, I thought I wouldn't see you again."

"Oh, I apologize for leaving so abruptly. Something I ate gave me a stomach bug, and I decided it'd be best to go rest before it could get worse. I'm just thankful it cleared up before the event ended."

"I am deeply grateful as well, I don't think I could've bared to not see you again. Say, why don't we actually complete our tour around the venue tonight."

"That would be lovely."

You had always hated how snobby rich people spoke, as if everything was fancy and business. The formalities and outdated vocabulary made you irrationally angry, and you weren't sure how much longer you were going to withstand this entire thing.

∘⁺✧◞₊⋅✱

Thankfully, you lasted a pretty good while. Everything seemed to be going as planned; you asked questions, he blabbered on and on about whatever you asked, he got more comfortable and started spilling more and more, and Jimin got more information.

“This floor is my favorite.” He says once you finish taking the flight of stairs you were just on.

“Oh, really? May I ask why?”

“My personal room is up here, it's supposed to be a guest room but since I spend my days here frequently, it's practically become my bedroom.”

“That sounds very comfortable. The people who own this place seem to show genuine hospitality.”

“They indeed do. And I was thinking, maybe I could follow in their steps, and extend that hospitality to you?”

“What does this said hospitality consist of?” You were skeptical, the glint in his eyes was evidently one that was ready to strike knives into your chest.

“Reconnection. Mending broken bonds. Making up for all our time lost.”

Your heart began beating rapid and panicked, afraid of what implications come with his statement. He seems to notice your expression fall, as he starts to laugh and even doubles over. Once he composes himself, he immediately makes his way towards you, the change in demeanor too quick to even respond.

"You really thought I wouldn't recognize you doll? Hmm?" He circles around you slowly.

It feels like you've fallen through a sink hole into the midst of hell hearing his words, it's suffocating, so much so that you're sure you won't make it out in one piece this time around.

"To be fair, you have changed a lot. You look much more mature, womanhood has treated you well." It takes everything in you to not break as he grabs your chin between his fingers, Jimin's voice playing on repeat in your head - 'no chickening out this time'.

You swallow and take a second to compose yourself, before speaking again.

"May we please continue our tour?"

"No need to hide from me, little one. I'd always told you, you'd come running back to me one day; and here you are. No need to be embarrassed about it, I'm more than happy to have you again."

∘⁺✧◞₊⋅✱

Jimin's blood runs cold when he hears what the man is saying; did you know him before? What history could you possibly have with this man?

"I'm n- not hiding. I just simply wish to continue looking around."

"Oh, trust me, dear. We'll have plenty of time to look around. But first, don't you wanna go somewhere private? So we can, reconnect?"

A shiver runs down your spine out of pure fear, and you're not sure if you can back down this time.

"Um, I don't know. I don't want to be gone for too long."

"No one will notice dear." He leans in closer to your face. "I know you want this just as much as I do."

His suggestive tone has you feeling sick to your stomach, and you pray to whoever sits above that Jimin realizes what's happening and comes to help you. You aren't sure what you had ever done to turn the universe against you, but you knew your prayers weren't heard when Jimin responds through your earpiece.

"Go. If you're worried about anything getting out of hand, I have this planned out. Just go."

You didn't know what plan Jimin had up his sleeve, but his annoyed expression on your face were imprinted in your mind, his words from the previous night still heavy: ‘If I were them, I'd be real disappointed if someone I handpicked for a job as prestigious as this one called me and told me they didn't wanna do it because it's too hard.’

"Okay, take me with you."

∘⁺✧◞₊⋅✱

He leads you to up another set of stairs, and into different hallways, before stopping in front of two big doors. You watch as he takes a key out of the inside pocket in his coat, and he opens the door, letting you step inside first and following after you. The room was spacious and slightly dark, the only light entering through the window from the lights outside.

"Ask him what part of the building you guys are in."

"This room is beautiful, what part of the building are we in?"

“It is quite luxurious, huh? This is the fifth floor. Main hallway, 3rd door. If you ever want to pay a visit, you're more than welcome to stop by.”

Jimin quickly jots down the room, and you hope he's satisfied, because you're shaken with fear at this man’s words. He locks the door from the inside, and proceeds to move toward you.

"He has a key, right?"

"Ah, yes." Pause. "I'll keep that in mind."

He smiles at you and grabs your wrist, walking towards the large bed in the middle of the room.

"Okay, get his key. Do whatever it takes, just get your hands on it."

He sits on the bed and grabs you by the hips, pulling you down with him.

"I can't believe I have you all for myself again. Even if its just tonight." You feel his fingers in your hair; the thought of shaving your head crosses your mind. If it means getting rid of any trace of him, you'd do it.

"Your features may be a little more grown, but you're still that innocent little sweetheart that I've always known."

His face seems so close; your body falls cold with fear.

"Tell me, how much have you missed me, sweetheart?"

He gets scoots even closer and cups your cheeks, running a thumb over your lips. He gets even closer, and all you can do is swallow and curse Jimin, because why isn't he doing anything to help you?

"I thought you would've learned to use your words by now." He chuckles, you wait for a hand across your cheek.

"Stupid little girl. Aren't you glad I'm so forgiving?"

He leans closer again, your foreheads touching at this point.

"I'll let you show me with your actions. Come on, show me."

Your breath hitches in dread, but he takes this a good sign. He kisses you and you do your best to "kiss" him back without actually doing any kissing. You tug on his coat, hoping he gets the message to take it off, and thankfully – you're not sure this is the right word – he does. As he shrugs it off, he keeps kissing you, and you take the chance to grab it from the inside, and flip it around so the key falls into your lap. You quickly put the key in your dress pockets and you toss the coat across the room in attempt to mask it as a move of interest.

He notices that his coat is gone, and it prompts him to begin trying to remove your corset. You realize that this is your chance to communicate with Jimin, though you're not sure if he can hear you if the silence from his side is anything to go by, while also prompting the man to get off of you.

"I've got it."

"You got the key?" So Jimin can hear you. You don't know if what fills your gut is relief or anger.

"Let me do it." He grips your hands and puts them aside, continuing to undo it himself.

"Yeah." You respond to Jimin. Pause. "I've got it, its fine. It'll be faster this way."

"Okay, we'll get him distracted now." Once again, you're torn between relief and anger.

"Don't you wanna take it slow? Enjoy our sweet time together?" His lips on your neck, and his hands getting lower and lower. You start to cry. Thankfully, he doesn't notice, because the intercom system im the building blares: "The auction is about to begin, 5 to auction." Hearing this, you take your chance to push him away, trying to get yourself back together.

"We should go, we wouldn't want to miss this." You move to get up, but he locks you within his arms.

"It's okay, you're the one thing I want."

"People will notice that we're missing."

"They won't. And if they do, let them. I'm more than glad to show you off."

He keeps on untying your corset, and panic starts to flow more prominently through your body as you realize that he isn't going to let this go easily.

"I really think we should go back. What if we miss something important?"

"Shhhh. Let this happen."

Another announcement blares through the intercom, but he doesn't even flinch this time.

"Auction is now beginning."

"Let's stop. I don't want to miss it."

He doesn't stop.

Doesn't even do a double take.

"If you want something from the auction, I'll get it for you. I'll even pay double the price. But I'm not letting anything take this away from me. I've been waiting to feel you for years. I'm not letting you go now."

You're on the border of cracking as he gets lower on the strings of your corset, not sure if you're gonna be able to get out of this unharmed. He moves to suck on your neck, and that's when you break.

"I don't, I don't want to."

"You're just nervous. I know you want this."

You shake your head, your whole body is visibly trembling now.

"I don't want to."

"Be good and stop talking."

He finally gets to the last string when his phone rings behind him.

He ignores it.

You pry him on.

"Are you not gonna take that?"

"Nothing is going to interrupt this."

"What if it's important?"

"What did I say? Be quiet. Why is it that now you're all chatter, but when I asked you earlier, not even a peep? It's like you want me to punish you."

A sob escapes you; where the fuck is Jimin?

He takes your corset off, leaving you almost bare.

"Such a pretty little thing."

All you can think is that 'This is it. This is it. What did I do to have to go through this again? Why is it tha-"

"I'm on my way up. I'll be there in a moment. I'm sorry I didn't come earlier. I'm coming."

You let out another sob at this.

∘⁺✧◞₊⋅✱

Jimin feels like his heart flew out from his chest because of how hard it was pounding.

He's desperate to get you out of there, and Jimin didn't know what to do.

His original plan to get the man distracted by random interruptions wasn't working, and he knew going up there on his own was risky, but listening to your situation made him sick.

He knew one of the guys on his usual team, Yeonjun, was monitoring the assignment, as they always have someone on standby in chances of emergency.

With his mind made up, he lets him know that he's gonna go in, but he isn't too fond of the idea.

"No, Yeonjun. You don't get it. I have to go up. He's- he's hurting her."

"You'll get caught. Especially if you and Y/N leave together."

"I have to go."

"Jimin-"

"Sorry, I have to get to her."

The line disconnects.

He was coming now.

Getting to you was the only thing that mattered in that moment.

∘⁺✧◞₊⋅✱

You can't bare to watch as the man takes his own shirt off, and you feel like you could throw up at any moment.

"I'm on the fifth floor. Toss the key under the door if you can."

At this, your only string of thought consisted of 'Jimin's here' 'Toss the key' 'Jimin's here' 'Toss the key'

You quickly reach into your pockets and let the key drop by your feet, and you kick it so it's by the door. An eternity of seconds pass by, your brain simply chanting 'Jimin, Jimin, Jimin'

Everything happens so quickly that you don't even have time to process what's happening before Jimin tackles the old man. He punches and pounds, and all you can do is watch in horror as both men begin to swing at each other. You have no clue what to do, but thankfully, Jimin manages to catch him off-guard and injects him with a tranquilizer.

It's strong enough to paralyze him on the ground, but simultaneously doesn't knock him unconscious.

You run to put your shirt on and rush to look for the flash drive that's meant to have all the information you're looking for. Despite your frantic state, you miraculously find it in a drawer, relieved and ready to show Jimin.

But when you turn around, he's still on top of the man, beating him like a crazed man.

"You. Fucking. Bastard. How. Dare. You. Touch. Her. I will fucking kill you." He says in between punches.

He kicks, stomps, punches, even pulls out his blade, and he doesn't stop until he feels you tug from behind him, hearing your attempts to hold back sobs from escaping you.

Even as you're trembling, you hold up the small flash drive in your hand.

Jimin stares in shock for a few seconds, confused as to how you still went to look for the files even with the state you're in.

He looks back at the man on the floor, bloodied and now unconscious.

You wouldn't be surprised if Jimin beat him to death.

A pause of silence engulfs both of you, before he interrupts it.

"Let's go. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Let's go. We'll talk later. Come on."

You moved to step towards the door, but you were filled with such panic that your legs were giving out on you.

He stepped towards you, but you recoiled.

He knew that this reaction was to be expected, but it still felt like a flame was burning his chest seeing you jump away from him, looking absolutely terrified.

You stumbled and wobbled, but you were insistent on walking on your own.

Jimin respected your boundaries, but when you almost tumbled down the stairs, he couldn't take it anymore.

“Do you want me to carry you back to the car? It'll get us out of here quicker, you're gonna hurt yourself .”

He saw your facial expressions change multiple times in that short moment before you stepped toward him and let him lift you off the ground. You were tense, any touch making your head spin but feeling how securely Jimin is holding you, you can't help but loosen up a tiny bit.

Feeling you shake in his grasp, it hit Jimin like a bag of bricks; you had been one of his victims. That's why you told him that it wasn't safe for you.

How could he have missed this?

You'd been brought back to hell after finally escaping it, and it was Jimin himself that dropped you right back into the gates of it. Maybe if he had listened to you when you said it wasn't a good idea, maybe you wouldn't be shutting down right in front of his own eyes, wouldn't be shaking uncontrollably, wouldn't be face to face with a monster you were to never see again.

∘⁺✧◞₊⋅✱

In the car, you can't stop clawing at yourself in the passenger seat, unsure of how to get rid of all the anger and anxiety in you.

Jimin kept peeking from your eyes and back to the road, and for some reason, this made you angry; not in a scream and throw things way, but in a sob angry tears with harsh breaths until you pass out way.

“What did it cost you to listen to me? Your pride? Is your pride worth the touch of that monstrosity?"

"I'm sorry."

∘⁺✧◞₊⋅✱

You get to the hotel and rip the dress off of you, wiping your lips and scrubbing your hands furiously, you pull your hair in desperation.

Everything feels so wrong and overbearing, it feels like its the end of the world.

Jimin feels like his world is crumbling at the same time that you are.

He goes to make you some tea, anything that will make you feel even the tiniest bit better. Seeing you in so much distress left only 2 things swirling around his head.

The first one being: He would, in fact, do anything to take back everything he's said, and to protect you from any harm that may come your way.

The second: He is so emotionally constipated.

Instead of letting himself understand and acknowledge what he feels for you, he put up a big fucking barrier, and now he’s responsible for your breaking point. Maybe if he could've been honest with himself, maybe if he had been gentler with you–

Well, there's no point in dwelling over it now, so instead he approaches you and removes your hands from your head to stop you from pulling your hair.

"Y/N? You're gonna hurt yourself."

"I don't care." You try to pull your hands away, but Jimin clasps them against his own.

"I made you some tea, it's in the nightstand by your bed. Go drink it while I put on a bath for you. And grab clothes once you're done."

You weren't sure what it was, anger? Gratefulness? Appreciation? Resentment? But something was coursing through your veins, and it all was clearly directed at Jimin. Feeling frustrated and confused, you broke down into sobs once more.

"We don't have to do anything, but I think getting washed up will help you feel better. Whatever you wanna do. Just, please don't cry, I don't like it when you cry.”

You look up and find Jimin crouching in front of you; his stare so soft that you think he might actually care. You can't help it – you launch yourself towards Jimin, neither of you are sure if it's an attempt at a hug or at knocking him down.

He wraps his arms around you and you begin to hit at his chest, your frustration and hurt showing themselves.

"Why didn't you listen to me?! I didn't want to tell you! You should've just listened to me! Then I wouldn't be hurt! It hurts, Jimin. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts."

You repeat that phrase over and over again until your breakdown begins to falter into hiccups, energy gone, and you melt into Jimin's embrace. The room is suddenly still, the only existing thing being you and Jimin on the floor, crying out hurt and apologies.

When he clutches so hard onto your shirt that his knuckles turn white, you know that he didn't mean to do it on purpose, that he's genuinely sorry for how things went down. And when you hug him back and shuffle closer to him, he knows you're willing to forgive him, you don't blame him for the decisions he made.

∘⁺✧◞₊⋅✱

Things feel fuzzy after that. Not necessarily in a bad way, there's just too much delicacy in the air for you to process things properly.

The cup of tea is warm in your hands as you wait for Jimin to finish filling up the bathtub.

After some quiet moments, he walks out of the bathroom and throws an apologetic smile your way.

"You're all set. I'll be out here, shout if you need anything."

"Okay."

You do think initially that a bath will help you relax, maybe get rid of some of the squeezing tension in your muscles, but it becomes clear that your mind won't be able to handle something as simple as undressing and getting into the tub.

Marks brokenly painted across your skin catching your stare, you needed to be forced out of it.

Even as you slowly climbed into the tub and sat down, the only thing running through your head was the image of your scarred form.

You cry out Jimin's name.

"Is everything okay?"

You beg the words to leave your tongue.

"Stay. Please."

Your voice is small and tired, and his heart jumps in a mix of adoration and pain, because you are ever so lovely, but you're hurt, and you're hurt because of him and his pride.

"Okay. I'll stay."

He takes a seat on the closed toilet, and you stare at him for a few seconds, trying to figure out how to ask for the support you need.

"I- can y- my hair."

Finally, it comes out strangled, but it comes.

"What about your hair?"

Jimin moves closer when you fuss a little at his question, splashing the water while doing so.

You rake your hands through your hair aggressively, and he thinks he understands what you're trying to say.

"Do you want me to help you wash it?"

Your face visibly softens – similarly to Jimin's heart – and you let out a little sound of confirmation.

"Okay, are you sure you're comfortable with that?"

"Mhm."

"Okay, pass me the bottle."

The warm water is soothing on your scalp and you feel yourself relaxing as soon as the shampoo touches your head.

“Sorry if I pull your hair.”

When you feel Jimin’s fingers raking across your hair, you start to cry again.

The way he gently rubs your hair makes you overwhelmed with a warm feeling that fills your chest at being handled so tenderly for the first time in so long.

"Love, why are you crying?"

If Jimin was already panicked at your tears, he’s utterly mortified now that the term of affection slipped out accidentally.

Thankfully, it seems like you're too caught up in enjoying the feeling to notice what he just called you.

“Thank you.”

His hand movements stopped for a second to think about his next words before resuming with a sigh.

"Don't thank me. I fucked up so bad. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean for any of this to happen. I should've just listened to you. I'm so sorry."

Jimin's voice cracked, and it looked like he was going to start crying too.

Once he was done, he went to grab a towel, and you stopped him by putting a hand on top of his.

"It's okay. I know you didn't mean it."

"I'm still really sorry. You shouldn't have gone through any of that."

You simply hummed as a response, and you both knew that it meant forgiveness.

The moment felt so soft, soft in the way you were looking at each other, soft like the butterflies in your stomach, it was all just really, really soft.

∘⁺✧◞₊⋅✱

That didn't last too long though, because sleep has never come easy to you, and the events of this day only worsened it.

Every time you closed your eyes, his sickening face would appear in front of you. You could almost feel the way he gripped onto your skin, bruising it.

You could feel yourself falling into a panic spiral again, and your brain's first instinct for whatever reason was 'where's Jimin?’

You sat up and saw him fast asleep on his bed, and you grew hesitant.

What if he gets mad that you woke him up? What if he laughs at you? He's gonna tell you to toughen up.

But then you think back to how he's acted ever since he went to get you.

That wasn't just temporary, right? Was it just pity? Was he only nice to relieve himself of any guilt?

Your overthinking mixed with your already panicked state, and you once again felt like things were crumbling all around you.

You showed Jimin your weakest parts, he can surely use that against you. He probably thinks you're even more pathetic now. He's gonna tell everyon-

"Y/N? What's going on?"

You were so deep in your thoughts that you didn't realize how loud your sobs had gotten, nor that they'd woken Jimin up.

You looked up in horror as you realized that he was sitting on your bed, watching you cry.

The concerned look in his eyes only made you cry harder. You wanted to fall into his comfort, wanted to believe that he genuinely cared about you, but at the same time you were convinced that he was just pretending.

"Don't act like you care."

“Huh?”

"I know you're only being nice to me out of pity, you can drop the act now."

Your words came out broken and between sobs. After you finished your sentence your breathing quickened again.

Jimin felt his heart being shredded into pieces as he saw your state. Did you really think that he hated you?

He could deal with that later, right now his main priority was getting your breathing regulated.

"Come here, we're gonna breathe together, okay? Can you do that for me?"

You were hesitant to approach him, but the offer of closeness was too inviting for you to turn down.

Jimin waited until you were seated directly in front of him before continuing.

"Hands on your belly. Now breathe in, and out."

It took a while before you were breathing again, but now Jimin could tackle the second issue at hand.

“What can I do to help you?”

Jimin sees the distrust on your face at his words and his chest squeezes sadly.

"I'm not doing this to get rid of guilt or anything like that, if that's what's running through your head."

“How do I- know that you're not just saying that to say it?"

Oh what Jimin wouldn't do to hand you the world.

"If I genuinely didn't care I wouldn't be here right now. You'd know if I was lying."

You think to yourself before giving into his offer with a small nod. Jimin smiles at your response.

“Do you need a distraction? Comfort? Water?”

“I think– I think comfort.”

"Okay. Do you want cuddles?"

Your brain short circuited, and Jimin took your silence as discomfort, so he rambled on.

"When I was younger, if I was ever scared of something, my mom would cuddle me and it always made me feel better. If you're not comfortable that's fine, I just think it would help."

You took a second to digest what Jimin had just asked you, never in a million years imagining you'd hear him asking you that, before nodding your head.

"Okay then, come here." Jimin laid down facing you and opened his arms expectantly, so you scooted closer to him and let him embrace you.

There's an inexplicable safety you felt surrounding him that had you melting into his hold. For the second time that day, his fingers gently played with your hair and you felt your walls come down a little further, warmth encasing both of you.

"You're so warm."

"Fuck do you think I am, a reptile? Of course l'm warm."

You scoffed at Jimin’s words, but stayed snuggled into him nonetheless.

"Are you uncomfortable?" You asked him.

"No. I'll let you in on a little secret of mine. I love cuddles. But only from specific people. But don't tell anyone.”

A soft giggle leaves your lips at his words, and Jimin decides that it's now his new favorite sound.

You pull back so you and Jimin are eye to eye; you want to speak but words are hard to convey.

“What's on your mind?” He's attentive, eyes searching yours for any hurt or worry.

“Do you cuddle with all your mission partners?” You try to lighten the mood and he laughs, so you assume it worked.

“No, only with the ones I like.”

His voice is soft when he says this, and it makes you melt a bit more.

“I really did think you hated me at one point.”

“I never did, I'm just very emotionally constipated. In all honesty I really do admire you, but I forced myself to see you as competition to avoid any of the weird emotional shit. Looks like it didn't work.” He finishes his sentence with a bitter chuckle; shame evident in his voice.

“I mean, I wasn't really all that nice to you either.” You try to easy his guilt.

“I wish we would've gotten off on the right foot.”

“Me too. But what's done is done.”

“I'm really sorry for not listening to you. I thought you were saying all of those things just to mess with me, but now I realize how stupid my logic sounds. Hearing what was happening over your microphone had me sick to my stomach. I can't even imagine how it must've felt for you.”

“It felt like my world was ending, honestly.” Your voice is quiet, but not enough to conceal how it cracks while tears pool in your eyes again.

“I never thought I would see him again. I'm still so scared, Jimin.” You begin to hiccup sobs, and he wastes no time in pulling you closer.

“It's okay. He's never coming near you again. I promise. You're safe, okay?” Jimin's voice was soft, feeling the way his chest vibrates against your head that's now tucked under it only helped calm you further.

You both remain like this until you've completely stopped crying and relaxed in his arms. Everything around you felt warm and tender, lulling you into deep sleep.

The last thing your brain manages to process is a soft kiss on your forehead, and words that sound a lot like:

“Goodnight, love.”

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calzone-d · 2 years

Text

Mild Misunderstandings (part two)

a/n: you can find part one to this story here! emotional ted really tugs at my heart, y’all. someone please love this man.

pairing: Ted Lasso x Fem!reader

warnings: mentions of divorce

word count: 1.5k

find my masterlist here!

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

You went to the bedroom you shared with Ted to put your pajamas on and get ready for bed. It was only 9pm but you were exhausted. There wasn’t a single part of you looking forward to sleeping in the guest bedroom, you had grown so accustomed to sleeping next to Ted. At the same time, though, you didn’t have the mental energy to argue.

On your walk to the guest bedroom, you heard Ted mumbling to himself about the plays being off. Deep down, you felt bad for him, but you also know that isn’t a reason to give you the third degree.

This whole fiasco was so unlike the kind, thoughtful man you had grown to love. It had been a hard week. The season had just started, and everyone knows it’s always best to start on top when possible. Michelle had been difficult with the two of you when trying to plan Henry’s trip to visit over Christmas vacation, claiming she wanted to see him for the holidays as well. This frustrated both you and Ted, who shared a deep love for the Lasso boy, and were looking forward to your two-weeks with him. All of this combined created a lack of sleep for Ted, who had spent the last few nights up tossing and turning.

Still, Ted was always so quick to at least try and talk things out before getting snappy. You were under your own stress and were looking for comfort from your husband. Something you had grown very used to.

Trying to calm your thoughts, you put your favorite sitcom on as you settled into bed. Before falling asleep, you shopped online for Christmas presents to give Henry, still ecstatic over seeing him, regardless of how long he was there. As your eyes grew heavy, you plugged your phone into its charger and pulled the blanket up to your chin. Tears pricked your eyes as you thought about Ted and longed for the comfort you were looking for. Maybe he’d be in a better mood in the morning, at least he had this weekend off.

The feeling of weight shifting on the bed woke you up from your sleep. Your eyes squinted open to find Ted sitting criss-cross on top of the duvet, flannel pajama pants on, a white t-shirt, messy hair, and tired tear-filled eyes. It was still dark outside, and the clock read 3:43am. The lamp he turned on was hurting your eyes, shocking you into a state of quiet.

“Y/N, I’m sorry”, his voice croaked. He sniffled before continuing, “The way I’ve been acting ain’t fair at all, not one bit. I’m just so stressed, A-and I’m scared that-”, he had to take a deep breath to stop the tears from falling.

“I’m scared that you’ll see all these problems and want to leave. Which, sheesh, I wouldn’t blame you one bit. Christmas is just always hard for me anyway, and then adding the thought of you leavin’ on top of that is just, bad. It’s real bad, Y/N.”

By now a few tears had escaped his eyes and you took note of the way his fingers twisted around each other. He didn’t give you a moment to speak before continuing, “This is our first Christmas together, and I love all the wonderful things about Christmas but It just feels like there’s so much more at stake in my life now.”

You nodded at him to continue. “It wasn’t great when Michelle left, and that Christmas was lonely as I’ll get out, but you leaving?”, he sniffled some more while shaking his head. “Th-that would break me, Y/N. It wouldn’t be the same by any measure.”

Now you were sitting across from him, a gentle hand on his knee.

“Ted, I know it’s scary. Shit, the idea of you leaving me is scary too. But that’s not a reason to shut me out or give me the cold shoulder. I’d rather talk this out with you any day then spend our time dancing around each other and sleeping in different beds.”

“Sometimes, I think that when I get real scared about something, I feel like if I shut it out then I’m preparing myself for if it happens. Tryin’ to protect myself, I guess.”

“Ted, I’m your partner. You don’t need to protect yourself from me. I’m here to work through these things with you, I know they’re not easy to talk about, but these tough conversations just have to happen sometimes.”

“I know that, but I’ve seen what these tough conversations can turn into, and the thought o-of that happenin’ with you is too much. I can’t handle that, Y/N. I-I can’t.”, he choked out as a sob found its way through his lips. Scooting over beside him, you pulled him into your arms, and his head immediately went to the place between your shoulder and neck.

Ted’s hands grabbed fists full of your sleep shirt, his body shaking as he sobbed into your neck. His tears were hot against your neck. You used one hand to soothingly rub his back while the other cradled his head, holding him tight against you as you shushed him.

You know his divorce left him scarred, and that was something you couldn’t really relate to. You had never been through a divorce before. All you could do was try to reason with his anxious thoughts.

Allowing him a moment to let it out, you drew patterns on his back and made sure he was breathing evenly.

“Ted, our marriage is our marriage. And that’s what makes it so wonderful. It’s full of love, and trust, and support. I love you for every single thing that you are, and that isn’t changing. I can’t think of anything I may have said or done to make you feel like I have any intention of leaving you but-”

He was quick to shake his head against you, “You haven’t”.

“I’m here, Ted. I’m here and that won’t change. There’s going to be times where it feels like all you have is problems, but I’m here to card through those with you and do damage control. Not to leave. We work as a team, honey. I married you because I love you exactly the way you are, not because I think you don’t have problems. I mean, have you smelled your feet? Whew. If we’re talking problems that’s at the top of my list.”

This elicited a chuckle from him. You smiled as you continued, “I love you, Ted. I love you, and Henry, and your problems, and his problems, and anything else that may pop up. We’re a family and we work through these things together, okay?”

He nodded against your neck before pulling away with hands still full of your sleep shirt as if he was afraid you’d disappear into the night. His sleepy, tear-filled chocolate eyes met yours and your heart broke for him a tiny bit more.

“I love you too. It wasn’t right of me to treat you that way, you’ve got your own things goin’ on, too. You’re right, we do get over things together and tomorrow I’ll catch up on my share of the housework.”, you nodded as he spoke. “I never, ever meant to make you feel alone, or isolated.”

The crease between his eyebrows was prominent, and you couldn’t miss the bags forming under his eyes as they met yours.

“I know it wasn’t your intention, Ted. I forgive you. And as good as I am at reading that mind of yours, sometimes I only know what you tell me. If you don’t tell me these things, I don’t really have a way of knowing that’s what’s going on”

Ted was silent for a few moments and nervously chewed his lip. “I think it may be good for me to, uh, call up the doc. Maybe set somethin’ up with her.”, he looked down as he spoke, fidgeting with loose threads on the duvet.

Smiling proudly at him, you pulled him back in for another hug, “I think that’s a great idea, love.”

He squeezed you tight and pressed a soft kiss to your cheek, “How about we take a hot shower then go crawl back in our bed. We can sleep in, and give Henry a ring after some breakfast?”

Your suggestion was met with a nod and tired smile. “Sounds good, Darlin’”.

In the shower, Ted held you tightly against him as he let the warm water calm his nerves. You were there, you were you, and you loved him. You showed him that every day in so many ways. Your marriage was special, and unique, and he knew he didn’t have to fear being himself.

Ted gently washed your hair for you and looked at you like you’d hung the moon as he spread your bodywash across your body. He washed you with care, eternally grateful that you found your way to him and Richmond. Grateful that you loved him unconditionally. He would spend every moment making sure you knew how loved you were if that’s what you needed.

Before you washed him, he used his hands to cradle your head for a deep kiss. You could feel the week’s stress and tension in it, wishing you could take it all away.

You bumped your nose against his and mirrored the smile he gave you.

“Always gonna love you, Ted.”

Thanks for reading!

#ted lasso x reader #ted lasso angst #ted lasso fluff #ted lasso imagine #ted lasso #mm emotional ted #my writing

183 notes · View notes

midnightsunnyday · 2 years

Text

With Good Intentions (Chapter One) (Updated) ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Masterlist A03

"Hell is full of good meanings, but heaven is full of good works."

➥pairings: MC & Everyone ➥content warnings: not beta-read. We cook our stories like Solomon. Hurt/comfort with some humor. Using alcohol and food as coping mechanisms. Curse language. Mild violence. Mentions of suicide. Panic attacks. The brothers are kinda assholes in this story. And so is MC. Also, Diavolo is kind of suspect and so is Barbatos. ➥summary: after the events of Chapter 16, the brothers and Diavolo are forced to deal with the inevitable fallback of their actions towards MC, all while attempting to help them through their growing existential breakdown Or... what would happen if the MC didn't "serve as a bridge" for the brothers after lesson 16? How would their relationships change? And how would the brothers navigate their emotions without the MC's help? A/N: holy shit guys, when I say this story took forever, it took FOREVER. I had this idea in my head since early 2022, but due to some personal issues, it never came to light until now. I really hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Please let me know how you feel about it in the notes. As always, take care.

Before all else, you were just your average, regular, no-name human. A statement in which you were fine, just perfectly fine, with admitting to.

You liked decorative mugs with cute animals on them. You were consistently outraged by the rising cost of food. You gave unwarranted opinions on topics that you knew little to nothing about. More importantly, you were wonderfully oblivious to your stake in the status quo, pursuing life as you pleased, unbound by fate or duty. On a flying rock in the middle of nowhere filled with billions of people, there shouldn’t be anything special about you. Until it was.

You sat there, peering out from yourself into a world that wasn’t quite yours. At loved ones that only mimicked those you’d left behind. You would’ve objected to all of this, the food, the drinks, the general merriment, if only you weren’t so tired, being dragged along without qualm into the common room to indulge in this nonsense. The celebration had only started, yet it felt as if you were trapped in time, watching the same scene for eons.

With great fanfare your death and all ones committed or attempted thereafter, were made completely inconsequential, the existential implications of one’s life being erased with the snap of a finger rendered irrelevant at the pop of a cork and the fizz of white champagne. One of the brothers spoke to you. Honestly, it was hard to tell which one. Everything was too bright, too loud. Some nonsense about wanting a muffin or other. You’d replied, yet were unsure of your words, as no part of you, not even your voice, felt like it belonged in this space.

Right, well, sure watching your mangled corpse be tossed down the stairs like a leaking bag of garbage to be disposed of might be traumatizing for the next person…no, forget trying to rationalize it. This was definitely traumatizing.

And this feeling. It was like dying all over again, slowly with each breath, but there was no urgency, no threat to twist and break your neck, no end to this "pseudo-death." It was your body who turned against you, a painful ache that gnawed itself from the depths of your stomach and came ripping, screaming, up, up, until the only thing that held it back was the clenching of your eyes. You sat with it. Struggled with it. Wondered if anyone noticed. But when you finally opened your eyes again, the same scene remained: a family—nearly ripped apart from centuries of pain, anger and regret—were laughing like it never happened. And you—still wallowing in what only lasted a few moments—were losing it.

You tried to steady your breaths. Tried enjoying the warmness of your tea. Distracted yourself with cookies, and cupcakes, and stories of failed schemes and embarrassing “childhood” photos. Maybe with time, you would learn to accept what seemingly couldn't be changed. Like with Belphegor, who nuzzled himself into the crook of your arm, dawning a face that made you realize, though with slight disgust, why it was easy to baby him. In time, you’d look back at this day, laughing away fear for awkwardness. In time, you’d find a way to raise your hand without clenching it into a fist to stroke the top of his head. But that time would only come once you allowed yourself to accept it all. This shitty prize, whether you wanted it or not, was yours. You were their family now, forever. Always in sight. Always fretted over. Always followed. The beginning, middle, and unforeseen end to the lives of the seven strongest rulers of hell. What good would it do to run ruin such splendor with your finite problems? For now, you should be happy. For now, you should be grateful. For now, you should breathe, relax, and just—

“Hahaha. There must have been so many things you’ve all wanted to do for Lilith over the years.”

“I’m not Lilith you insensitive asshole.”

The silence wasn’t sudden, because at first, it was hard to believe you’d said it. Like a misheard lyric in a song, everyone’s mind halted, replayed, then with clarity, lost it. Mammon and Leviathan gasped. Satan dropped his fork. Asmodeus covered his mouth. Belphegor winced. And Beelzebub, who never stopped eating, stopped eating. Even the flames from the fireplace seemed to dim slightly as if all the collective oxygen of this now incredibly warm, incredibly small room was sucked in and held. And as you stood there, fists clenched and teeth so tight they could crack brick, did you realize…

Oh.

Shit.

I could’ve sworn I said that to myself.

You waited, expecting a certain demon’s voice to rumble up from the quiet and reprimand you, yet Lucifer, like the rest of his brothers, did not speak, his mouth tight and twisted in not quite anger, not quite shock. Instead, he turned, with all the caution of a startled dog, towards Diavolo.

“I believe there’s been some miscommunication on my part,” Diavolo spoke. For a man that was just insulted to his face, he remained a bit too relaxed. “It was not my intention to offend you.”

"That's not the point!" You yelled again.

So what was the point? At the very back of your mind, beyond all the anger and anxiety, a thought struggled to form. It might’ve been inadvertent, yet your comment wasn't exactly misdirected. You didn't care being compared to Lilith, yet it wasn't what upset you. No, it was more complicated than that. Diavolo was unmoved, the shadows from the fireplace deepening the lines of his face, the mass of his body appearing larger in the dimness.

In the corner of your vision, a hand reached for you. "Hey, cool it, will ya?" Mammon urged, placing it upon your shoulder. "Everyone here knows you ain't Lilith."

You shook your head, hoping it would rearrange your scattered thoughts. "It's not about her."

"Eh? Whad'ya mean it's not about her? Didn't you just--"

"I know, I know!" You stamped down your foot. "It's before. Before the past. There were all of you. And Diavolo said...he said I had to come here, so I did and Barbatos took me to the door and...he took me to the door and..."

And there, like all fools who learned too late, did it dawn on you.

“Did you plan for Belphegor to kill me?” you asked.

Diavolo blinked. “Pardon?”

“Did. You. Plan. For. Belphegor. To. Kill. Me?” You pulled yourself from Mammon and stepped forward. “When you made me go to the past to check who let Belphegor out of the attic. Did you,” you gulped back a sob, “did you know I’d be in danger?”

Diavolo paused, and you envisioned the winding gears struggling behind his eyes. “I understand that the last few hours have been hectic for you," he said," perhaps it better if we continue this at another time?"

“I asked you a question.” Your voice rumbled, unsteady by the weight of your chest.

"And I heard it. Unfortunately," his smile was slight, "I feel no need to answer it."

"No need?" You weren’t sure whether to laugh or grab the nearest object and beat him with it. "Am I not worth an answer? The person you dragged down here and had killed isn't worth an answer?"

"I'm sorry, but I will no longer discuss this matter here." It wasn't long ago when Diavolo told you he could never lie, yet it seemed withholding the truth was another thing. You quickened your mouth to speak, yet Barbatos was far quicker.

“I believe the Young Master has spoken," Barbatos said, stepping into your view. “Regardless of what offense you believe occurred, I must ask that you refrain from continuing this outburst.”

“Or what?" You jabbed your finger into Barbatos's chest. "Will you tie me up in vines and drag me down to the dungeons?”

"Nothing of the sort," he said, brushing your hand away. "Yet your behavior is unbecoming, and furthermore, lacking in respect."

"Respect?" Your laugh was pained. "What do any of you know about respect? You think because you’re royalty you can just say and do what you want?” You swept your arm across the entire room. “You think you all can just say and do what you want and afterward just…fucking eat cake like it never happened? Huh?”

Some part of you expected them to act, to do anything other than sit there with those insipid looks on their faces. In some, like Satan, you could see the very bubbles of reflection beginning to float to the surface of their consciousness, eyes sharpened and red with stinging hindsight. Yet there were others like Leviathan, head tilted toward the ground as if contemplating burrowing himself beneath it. It only made you want to fill the room with your voice. Until it rang the walls of the House of Lamentation. Until it echoed out into the night. Until the entire Devildom could hear you screaming, “Say something you selfish bastards.”

“Oi, that’s enough,” Mammon called to you. “Let’s just calm down before we get ourselves into something we can’t get out of, yeah?”

“Mammon’s right,” Asmodeus said, yet not before peering toward Lucifer. “Just…forget about the party, ok? Go relax in your room.”

"With all due respect, that isn't your decision to make, Asmodeus." Barbatos turned to Diavolo. "Young Master?"

Everyone looked to Diavolo, his face pensive. It was insulting, really. That after all was said and done, now was the time that he considered your well-being. "I believe it best," Diavolo spoke, "that you listen to Mammon and Asmodeus."

You scoffed, face wet and heated. You'd gone a bit past the point of common sense. If this ended in your punishment, then so be it. Until then, you would not move. Not until you got your answer. Not until he and Barbatos admitted what they did. Not until--

"Enough of this, please." Lucifer was not the type to plead, something you, and everyone else for that matter, responded with various expressions of disbelief. "This was supposed to be..." he clutched his breaths as if catching himself from slipping into someone less than his title suggested. “Let’s not continue this further.”

It was the softest you've ever heard him speak, and the most tired he ever looked. The brother's confirmation of Lucifer’s words hung in the air, and with it, your bravado. You never expected them to get it. After all, how could beings that would never know the brush of death or time understand your feelings in this moment? Though you also never expected them to just…do nothing, either. It hurt you, in ways too tired to yell further.

You turned, silent, and moved. Into the halls and towards your room door, tossing it open before slamming it shut and locking yourself inside. Not that it ever kept anyone out. A great heaviness sat upon your shoulders, and you carried it towards your bed, allowing gravity to do the rest as you plopped face-first into your sheets.

Maybe I could suffocate myself in my sleep if I stayed this way? A grim thought. And, unlikely.

For a while, the only sounds were your own heartbeat and shallow breaths. Your room wasn’t far from the common room, so you supposed the shock from before hadn’t died yet.

Finally, with a voice carrying all the weight of a vagrant, Lucifer spoke, “Pardon me for stating the obvious but, I believe it best...that we all call it a night."

And no one, not even Satan, called him out on it.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me fanfic #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #midnightsunnyday writes

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sunflowersoldat · 1 year

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All is Fair ~ Deuce

Chapter 28: Deuce

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Main Master List

Series Master List

Series Summary: Family is important, but so is the Family business. Everyone has secrets, some are deadly. Your the best in the business, but no one knows who you are. Tensions are high, will you raise the stakes or fold under pressure?

Series Warnings: 18+! Mentions of blood and violence, bad language words, smut, manipulation, gaslighting, death, trauma, please follow the warnings for each chapter.

Chapter warnings: 18+ Only! Emotional trauma. Bad language words.

Pairing: Mob!Steve x Assassin!Stark!reader

Word count: approx. 2.2K

A/N: Um hi! It has been a while, but I think I am finally ready for this story to come to its end. It will have two drabbles that take place after this chapter planned then it will finally be over. It's been a really long journey, and I love this series, it has been bittersweet to write these last few parts. I digress, I hope you enjoy this chapter and have enjoyed the series!

It had been months, the city was still recovering. Thor’s funeral had been a city-wide event, no one knew what he’d actually done. The newspapers blamed the myth of the Ace of Spades. They had a damn statue made in Thor’s honor, for god's sake. Steve couldn’t stand the sight of it, it made his stomach churn to even think about it.

This whole city hates the one person who’d saved them all.

Tony’s funeral was more intimate, not only were they mourning Tony, but Pepper and the rest of the family still thought you were dead. They would never know the truth, you would never get to see your niece grow up, to have the chance at a future you’d always wanted.

Now as he made his way to Zemo’s office, his heart squeezed in his chest, the last time he was here, walking these halls, you were standing by his side. The spot next to him remained silent and cold, the casino floor was already full of people.

Women tried to pull his attention, to stop him with their manicured claws and pouty lips; they weren’t you. He didn’t give them a thought or a second glance as he pushed his way to Zemo’s office.

The man was standing in front of his window, hands clasped behind his back as he stared out at the city below his feet.

Steve closed the door softly, but the resounding click thundered through him. Zemo didn’t turn as he spoke,

“You look like shit, Rogers.”

Steve didn’t have it in him to smile or bite back, his brows only rose as he took a seat in the plush red chair in front of Zemo’s desk. His eyes were heavy, it had been months since he’d had a good night's rest. Blinking slowly as Zemo turned to finally look at him, the man's face full of empathy, he’d understood what it was like to have his whole world taken from him. To know his family was alive somewhere he couldn't reach and now Steve knew his pain, not a single whisper from you, for all he knew you could be dead somewhere. When they’d found Thor in Loki’s mansion, the blood had been yours too, there was no telling if you'd bled out somewhere or if you'd made it to freedom.

Steve guessed his thoughts could be read on his face because Zemo sighed, his face becoming solemn, “Get out of New York Steve. Go see the world…”

Steve only shook his head, everyone seemed to think it was you not being in New York that bothered him, but it didn’t matter, nowhere would be enough if you weren't by his side. He could be miserable here or in a palace in France, miserable was miserable.

Zemo had walked closer to stand between Steve and his desk, a small envelope in his hands, “Fine if you won't do it for your own well being, do it as a favor to me.”

He dropped the envelope onto Steve’s lap, “I need you to attend an event in my stead, obviously I am too indisposed here to leave. Yelena still requires my assistance taking over Thor’s territories, Pepper will need an ally trying to keep the streets clean…” he trailed off as Steve’s hand closed around the envelope.

“Where?” The only words that Steve could muster from his soul. If he could throw himself into work, maybe he could relax.

Zemo’s brows rose, “London. A contact with a few friends in the southern hemisphere will be there.”

Steve opened the envelope slowly, pulling out two tickets to a Gala. “Who is the second ticket for?” Steve grimmaced when he realized he would need to be dressed to the nines for the event, but the sooner he could go there and get it over with the sooner he could come home and be left the hell alone.

“Take a friend with you. I’m sure there are plenty of women out on the casino floor willing—”

Steve nearly retched at the thought, nearly snarled as he looked back to the man before him, “Barnes is plenty of company.” The words were clipped, harsh, Steve didn’t care if the man noted the disrespect and venom laced in his words.

If the man cared, he didn’t react, Zemo only shrugged, “Better than going alone…” he rubbed the bridge of his nose, “I’ll see you in a few days Steve.”

Rising from his seat, Steve nodded, but his thoughts were already far from here, the walk back to his vehicle where Bucky waited was merely a dream.

—

The glittering lights and chaos of too many conversations happening at once mingling with the classical music, stroked his impending headache.

It had been a long while since he made an appearance at a gala, well, the last one had been at your museum. The second time you had met, memories of that night flooded his vision. The way you’d fallen apart on your desk for him, that was the beginning, he’d realized too late; the first step into the dangerous game.

Beside him Bucky nudged his arm with his elbow, motioning to a man on the second floor balcony. His falcon mask glittering in the lights, Zemo’s contact for the evening that he and Bucky were to meet with.

—

Bucky was still trying to understand how Zemo had convinced Steve to leave New York, let alone coming to a high profile event in London. He watched Steve’s every move, the man hadn’t been himself for a very long time and his trust in Bucky hadn’t exactly been healed. Bucky thought it must have meant something since he had chosen him to join Steve at this event, but the man hardly spoke a word to Bucky.

He had to remind himself that Steve had hardly said anything to anyone since you disappeared, but every day that passed caused Bucky more worry. He couldn’t fathom losing Steve, even if the man had forgiven him, Bucky hadn’t forgiven himself, and Steve thought that was punishment enough. He thought about you all the time, how despite what he’d done to you, you still risked your neck to save them, to save him. He didn’t flatter himself with the thought, you hadn’t done it because you liked him, no, you had saved him and spared him for Steve.

He thought about the poker game that day in the mansion, the genuineness of your smile. He knew all that time deep down, when he hated you, tortured you, attempted to kill you, something inside him tried to shake him from his darkness. If you had genuinely wanted them dead, they would have been, long before they ever realized who and what you were. It was too little too late now, he wished he could tell you though, apologize, even if the apology would mean nothing, you deserved to hear it.

As they neared the contact he turned to meet them, his curly brown hair caressing the edges of his mask, “Mr. Rogers? Mr. Barnes?”

The english accent pulled at the string of familiarity in Bucky’s mind, but he needn’t rack his brain, the man removed his mask, a wide smile splitting his lips; Steven Grant?

Both Steve and Bucky had decided not to wear masks, they hadn’t thought they would be recognized so far from home, and didn't expect to see a familiar face.

Steven shook both men’s hands, his gaze falling behind them, smile faltering, “Where is Ms. Carbonell?”

Bucky’s brows furrowed, but he didn’t get the chance to reply, Steven’s body went rigid, eyes glazing over, before blinking furiously, like he was trying to see clearly. The voice that followed was one Bucky had heard plenty of times, it wasn’t directed to him, but to Steve.

“Rogers. Excuse Steven, he doesn’t know…”

His voice sent a shiver down Bucky’s spine. Jake Lockely was a force to be reckoned with, one Bucky had hoped he wouldn’t hear in a dark alley, but he spoke to Steve in a soft hushed tone, one full of…understanding?

Steve didn’t reply so Jake continued, “I knew he had sent the invitation, but I never thought anyone would attend, since…” A shadow passed over Jake’s eyes, but was gone in the next blink, “Zemo does have a contact here, you should meet with her at the bar, she knows to look for you now. She would be a helpful ally to have,” Jake grimaced, fighting something internally. “She will be the only other person dressed as an Egyptian deity, but be careful, she is as dangerous as she is beautiful.” he grunted again, “Now go before Steven returns, best not to raise questions you can not answer.”

Steve shuddered next to Bucky, he hadn’t noticed the man’s breathing quicken, “Jake?”

The two mens’ gazes locked, but Lockley shook his head solemnly, before turning from them and stalking away, his phone in hand, then back in his pocket before going ridgid again.

—

Steve hadn’t been prepared to see Steven here and wasn't expecting to speak to Jake. No matter that he knew the man had the identity disorder, but it didn’t get easier each time he watched him switch. He hated the bubble of hope that swelled in his chest when he heard Jake's voice, didn’t like the way his insides soured when he admitted he hadn’t seen or spoken to you either. Hope was a dangerous thing, no amount of torture or pain would ever amount to what hope could do.

“I’ll never get used to that, pal.”

On the barstool beside him, Bucky shuddered, taking a swig of the beer he had ordered. Steve only shook his head in reply, signaling for the bartender to bring him a drink.

“What I don’t understand is why Zemo had that invitation and tickets, if they were meant for Ace–”

“Is this seat taken?��

Both men turn their gazes to the female now on the other side of Bucky, a beautiful redhead with a black lace mask. Bucky shook his head, sparing a glance at Steve. Steve chuckled, “We’ll wait for the contact, maybe she’ll have answers. In the meantime,” he nodded to the redhead, “Have fun, Buck.”

A wide smile curved his friend’s lips before he turned away, chatting with the girl. Their laughter squeezed something in his chest, but a sense of relief washed over him.

Steve had started on his second drink when a second redheaded female sauntered over to Bucky joining in their conversation, she stole glances at Steve, but he ignored her. His attention ripped from the trio behind him when a female wearing the mask of a jackal split the crowd. Hair like molten gold, her black silk dress hugged every curve, but covered her completely. The black and gold mask hiding all but her eyes, the gold and black contacts keeping her identity hidden.

Steve wasn’t big on Egyptian culture, but he knew the god Anubis when he saw him, well in this case her. She didn’t speak to him, but turned toward the exit, he rose from his seat to follow. He didn’t speak to Bucky, Zemo wouldn’t send him here to die and if he had, at this point Steve would welcome it.

—

Bucky had been chatting with the two women for some time, Dot and Gail were a much needed reprieve from the past year. His fun with them was cut short when a powerful woman approached him through the crowd, the gold detailing of her mask standing out against her umber skin. Her rich accent cutting off the giggles of both the women beside him,

“Mr. Barnes, I am ‘Bast’. I believe we have a mutual friend.” She motioned upstairs towards Jake, now Steven who was chatting with a group of investors and philanthropists.

Bucky straightened, her words sobering him almost immediately. With a wave of her hand Dot and Gail melted back into the crowd. She lifted her head in Steve’s direction, “Seems he won't be joining us…”

Bucky whirled around to see the seat where Steve once sat, completely empty, the ice in his drink melted, leaving the napkin beneath drenched. Panic gripped him as he scanned the crowd, the woman code named Bast, stepped around him plucking a small piece of paper from Steve’s stool.

Not paper.

The familiar matte black rectangle was a playing card.

He couldn’t stop the laugh that shoved its way from his throat as he took the card from Bast. Relief and… joy bloomed in his chest, a smile splitting his lips as he looked back at her, “No. I guess he won't be.”

The message was for him, one only he would understand, still smiling he followed Bast to their meeting, pocketing the card.

The matte card didn't have the ace he had expected in its center, but a golden jester, the words James Barnes in gold foil written in two diagonal corners.

The wild card.

@dontbescaredtosingalong @texan-tazzy @tianamontag @daiseychaindisaster @silently-killing-you @buckyfan12 @leyannrae @justlovelifeblog @austynparksandpizza @capson-of-coul @betareader7 @vicmc624 @bigphattygyal @calwitch @buckysteveloki-me @curlyladylazarus111 @talesofadragon @trudy-shams

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spockandawe · 2 years

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OKAY, before I go back to gently decaying into the floor, I feel like I have to make a quick impassioned case for victoria goddard's books in general, and at the feet of the sun specifically, because I had assumed that at some point the series would reach an emotional peak and that later highs would be pleasant but not the same HEIGHTS, and... so far I have not been proven correct!

Okay. OKAY. 'The Hands Of The Emperor' was very very good. I read it, what, last year? I'd had it for a little while, one of those purchases for when I'm feeling sorry for myself and like 'surely this book will fix me' and then I impulse purchase a huge slab of paper. I think a friend was checking it out, and that persuaded me to actually dive in, and at a certain early point, the momentum tipped, and oh MAN, this slip-n-slide has no end in sight and I'm still accelerating.

The universe this is set in is called the Nine Worlds, and there are assorted novellas and short stories and a few sub-series of books, but HOTE is a good place to start. Career bureaucrat Cliopher (Kip) Mdang is secretary to the emperor at the middle of this fantasy world, a position he rose to despite being a nobody from some remote backwater and subject to a lot of fantasy racism. He periodically goes home to visit his family and childhood friends, who are all very impatient to retire, but he's still involved in piecing the world back together after a magical apocalypse (between 25 and 1000 years ago, depending where in the world you are), and is trying to improve the government at the same time.

The action begins with Kip tentatively inviting the emperor, his radiancy, the sun-on-earth, the magical linchpin at the center of the empire, if he wants to go on a vacation. The emperor does, and oh my god, I should have had such trouble getting into a story that's so.... quiet isn't exactly the right word, sedate isn't the right word, but it's bureaucracy that's front and center, and family dynamics, and politics and government, and it should have been a hard sell for me. I took a day or two off work so I could keep reading at maximum velocity.

Smash cut to the end of the book. I am about to dramatically oversimplify and also skip over a NUMBER of heartwrenching reveals. The emperor is placing a certain amount of ceremonial and political power in Kip's hands, and going off into the world to look for his heir. I thought that was the end of that, honestly? Again, usually, I would be a hard sell for an ending with those nominal stakes, but I was fully Into It here. That's 'Hands Of The Emperor'

The next book, 'The Return Of Fitzroy Angursell' (The Red Company Reformed, Book 1) follows Emperor Artorin Damara as he sets out on his hot girl summer, and while I am reluctant to drop any momentum at all for the big chonkers, this is 1) good shit, and 2) load-bearing context for the next huge book, the one that just came out. It might be possible to read the big book without this one, but I really, really recommend reading it. You won't have context for why Kip gets ancient civilization visitors, and that's only a start. I highly recommend every single novella and short story too, but this is the one that's key.

Now, a spoiler cut, because I don't think I can write about how this book hit me like a sledgehammer without getting into some spoilery developments, but I need to scream.

OKAY. 'At The Feet Of The Sun.' Kip is in charge of the government, even though he misses his radiancy and is also highkey ready to go back home and live in the house he bought and maybe invite his several closest friends from the emperor's household to come live with him. I thought I could see the shape of where this book was headed. Then. The emperor's spymaster started confiding in him about telepathic dinosaur soulmates and discussing his 'dear friend, his correspondent, the imposter' and what she told him, and I started to get a sneaking suspicion that shit was going to go off the RAILS

(also, i called it, I COMPLETELY CALLED WHO HIS PEN PAL WAS, I'm so proud of myself. It wasn't all that hard, but I nailed it the moment it came up)

Yeah, even though I was suspicious, I had no clue about why things were going to go in certain directions, or how, or where. After that first book, I expected to stay firmly entrenched in either government life or domesticity and uhhh. Nope! That did not happen.

FIRST, we've got canonical AU time, which delighted me to NO end, and was milked for all the juicy emotional potential I could hope for. If you read the book and want Even More, the discord has links to extra chapters from the pov of [spoilers redacted] during this portion.

But also, without going into context? ADVENTURE. We're off on a journey! Kip mentioned earlyish in the first book that he had a very close friend he lost contact with over the course of the magic apocalypse and hasn't heard from since, and he finally has the time and space to go looking for him! I'm sure this won't get wacky and wild, this is a very sensible book after all, starting a bunch of middle-aged bureaucrats.

HELL NO, DOG, WE'RE ON AN ADVENTURE! I can't say much context, a lot of it really, really has to be experienced, and the little book in between the big two ones is such crucial context for emotional developments. But. We're getting properly mythical up in this joint, we're in the realm of the divine, we're negotiating and bargaining with gods and other such entities. But where a strapping young lad might be doing favors and winning tokens, so that when a god gives him an impossible task he has the secret to success... Kip largely does for himself! With exquisite courtesy and skill at bargaining won over the course of a long and very successful career. I'm not making it sound as delightful as it is, but if you've been aware of Kip's success at Littleridge since the first book, and you see him come to negotiate with the Sun now, just!!!!!!

Meanwhile, Tor is hanging with the boat crew eating popcorn and learning hobbies like 'oh my god, kip is seriously the BEST, isn't he?' (this is not exactly what the emperor was doing, there were reasons he wasn't along for the ride, this was delightful to me, again, when i wouldn't have pinged this as my hole that is made for me)

And now it's time for old men in the absolute THROES of emotion!!!!! We are going to have AWKWARD CONVERSATIONS and talk about PRIVATE MATTERS, and it's going to be nervewracking for me, the reader, who was honestly trying to get back onto a decent sleep schedule!!! We're going to see some heckin REVELATIONS from side characters who bring this whole vibrancy to the life of this poor man who was stuck in a sterile environment hedged around by magical taboos for half his life! It's going to be extra moving for reasons I'm not disclosing! The scope of this second book is properly MYTHIC, and almost none of the most logical story beats I thought it would address (heir, retirement) are even fully covered, because there's going to be a third book, babey!!!!!

Oh my goodness. If you haven't read HOTE, I can't contextualize the incredible intensity of the bombshells ludvic drops in this story, and rhodin is so much more delightfully unhinged than I ever gave him credit for. Conju manages to be as wonderful as ever despite minimal screen time (i would DIE for him), and I've never seen a man so eloquently express his affection through hair care advice. The scale of this book is MYTHIC, but also, vibrantly human. Some of the passages in here put me in mind of like.... the first time I read the sedna myth, feeling that settle into my brain and hollow out a new space. But we've got some fabulous, bright exchanges over poetry, both the love of it and the creation of it (and the BANANA SCALE). It has an iguana!

It's hard to say that a book has it all, but this one really does. The first book was still incredibly good, don't get me wrong, I recommend it so, so hard. But this one had me howling with delight at each new plot development. I am painfully invested in these old men. I still need to finish the Greenwing and Dart series, but after meeting Jullanar in there and in the return of fitzroy angursell, I need to finish the series for whatever more of her I can consume. I need to read The Redoubtable Pali Avramapul, which I somehow missed, and the second Sisters Avramapul novel. I've also already started rereading HOTE, and the things that are more OOMPH in retrospect are already coming fast and heavy. I reread Petty Treasons and Aurelius (To Be Called Magnus), both of which are so GOOD, and I know that The Tower At The Edge Of The World will destroy me (and Portrait Of A Wide Seas Islander i'm saving for dessert)

I don't know how much spread this series has, I don't participate in Online Book Communities so much, I don't read often enough or thoroughly enough to make it worth keeping tabs on those tides. But this is a book where I feel like I have to recommend it at maximum intensity to anyone with the poor judgment to make eye contact with me. I love everything about this book, and I have to at least try to introduce it to anyone who's unaware of it

#at the feet of the sun #lays of the hearth fire #spoilers #atfots spoilers #vaguely #i went in completely blind and it was #i felt emotionally hungover at the end of that marathon #but in a very good way #long post/

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sleekervae · 1 year

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Past Lives [1.4]

Masterlist

A/N: Two stories updated in one day? Something's in the air, clearly.

Warnings: messily messy messy smut, purely indulgent and whatever lol. Mentions of the W word, self conflicting emotions

It was mid evening when they finally left the restaurant. Christmas lights were twinkling in barren trees and flashy neon signs casted bright colours across the pavement. Austin had his hood pulled up and his jacket zipped despite the kinder temperature. Jade always found it funny how Californians called this weather their winter; 52 Fahrenheit was a lovely spring day in Toronto after all. Austin couldn't help but roll his eyes every time she teased him about it.

"What're you gonna do when you go to South Carolina and it might even grace thirty degrees?" she gaped at him, "Have to pack your parka!"

He shook his head, "Yeah, yeah. Meanwhile you're over here melting in mid-July," he shot back.

"We don't have it so easy up North. Toronto gets too muggy in summer," she replied.

"And you also get ten feet of snow in winter, there's no contest --" he stopped suddenly when he spotted a grey car across the street, a hunched figure was setting up his camera in the front seat, just waiting for them to walk by. He had gotten pretty good at spotting the pap cars in the past few months: neutral colour, tinted windows, always picking the spot with renewable paid parking, "Shit,"

"What is it?" Jade asked as he pulled her aside, just out of view from the car.

"We're being watched," he pointed out the car around the corner, "I told you; they've been following me all day,"

"Yeah, because they all want their piece of the King," she joked, peeking out at the idling car. She didn't have so much of a problem being papped, but after London she was especially conscious of being caught out with Austin. She wasn't in the mood to deal with the rumour mill.

She sighed, "Damn,"

"You okay to walk past?" he asked her, "Otherwise we can double back and go the long way?"

Jade looked around at their surroundings, they were only a fifteen minute ride from her house but she didn't want to wait around for an Uber so the camera man could get his snapshots. Luckily for her, Downtown Los Angeles was a winding maze of backstreets, any of which they could slip through to go unnoticed.

"We don't have to, come on," she took his hand in hers and pulled him back in the opposite direction. Austin was curious, choosing however to trust her process as she lead him down a back lane.

Downtown was a metropolitan business area full of fortune five hundred companies and affluent restaurants, as well as a seedy skid row. While they weren't in the rougher part of downtown, the lane still had a couple stragglers hanging around, sitting to avoid the sun or rummaging through dumpsters. And the smell was vile, steam and garbage with stewing together and irritating their noses.

Austin stayed close to Jade as she seemed to have a better idea of where she was going, winding in and out of grid-locked streets and alleys. There was a little zing of excitement, as ridiculous as it sounded he felt like he was in a high-stakes show evading the enemy. She continued to keep a tight grip on his hand, looking up at him now and again to make sure he was okay. From how quiet he was being it was clear he didn't come down this way often, but Jade had become more of a pro at traveling down nooks and crannies for quick escapes.

Soon enough they came to the edge of Little Tokyo, and they looked up and down the street to assure that they were safe from prying eyes.

"I think we're in the clear," she decided.

"I take it you've done this before?" he noted as she opened the ride share app on her phone.

"Spend enough time dodging the paparazzi, you pick up a few tricks," she replied.

He smiled, "And that's how you can go around without a big security team, right?"

"Exactly!" she beamed up at him, "I can give you all my escape routes, if you want,"

"I ever tell you how cool you are?" he asked.

"What other reason would you keep me around for?" she replied.

"... I've got a few reasons..."

Needless to say, Austin indeed had a myriad of reasons...

Jade was suddenly flat on her back on the bed, Austin heavy on top of her. His hands were on her neck and he was kissing her, and no one in the entire fucking world kissed her like he did.

“Clothes,” she mumbled between kisses.

A sharp flap – that was his shirt, nicely out of the way. Austin pulled at Jade’s tank top and off it flew across the room. No bra. Her skin was warm beneath his hands and he could feel her panting.

He fell back onto her, too eager to have any energy left to expend on pants. Jade tried to reach for Austin’s belt but he was too close, his stomach pressed against her's. She laughed, “Honey, we have all night. Slow down,”

“Fine, fine,” he said, his voice sounded a little strange and trembling and this was Austin: who never lost his cool, who’d had the self-control of a fucking monk and his voice was shaking and it was because of her. Jade pulled her hand from beneath his stomach and dragged him into another kiss.

Austin’s legs slid open, knees on either side of her thighs, and he pulled at her belt, “This – this would be a lot easier if we just got up for a second,” Jade huffed.

“I know,” Austin said, but he stayed exactly where he was and so did she, because no way in hell was she letting go of him right now, “Up,” he snapped, tugging at her waistband. Jade raised her hips from the bed and Austin tugged her jeans off. It was a good thing Jade could multitask, toeing her shoes off and unbuttoning his pants at the same time.

And then finally, fucking finally, they were both naked.

It was a week since they'd last done this. It might have seemed like an eternity but right now it was nothing. Nowhere long enough to erase the familiarity of his ribcage in her palms, the movement of her hips, the taste of his mouth. He felt like he hadn’t been away for more than a day, or like he never even left the bed. Everything that wasn’t Jade against him distant and unreal.

Would she be feeling it as well? This bone-deep, perfect fiery need?

She got on top of Austin and pinned his arms to the bed. His legs fell open and she leaned down, pressed up against him. He arched up for a kiss and she pulled away at the very last moment, her lips hovering less than an inch from his.

“Tease,” Austin growled.

“Hypocrite,” she smashed her lips against his and he made a surprised noise. She let go of Austin’s arms and he put his hands on Jade’s neck, fingers digging in hard. Damn right she was feeling it too.

She crawled down, his eyes slipped shut. Nothing mattered much more than this -- Austin’s cock heavy against her tongue and the taste of his pre-come in her mouth. His hands weaved through her hair and he threw his head back, baring his throat, mouth open, needy. He never said Jade’s name, but then again he didn’t really need to; that open unguarded expression on his face said enough.

He was careful to not drive his hips into her mouth too hard as he savoured the warmth that’s wrapped around him. She teased his crown with swirling licks and preened as his jaw went slack.

“Fuck,”

His teeth clenched when Jade doubled her efforts, milking him with care, “I can’t-” his breath hitched, voice straining as he was just on the edge.

Her eyes fluttered shut when she felt him swell, staining her tongue with his musk. His sack was heavy and warm as she softly rolled his balls and felt him growl from the sensation.

And she stopped, Austin pushed at her shoulder, a silent plea for her to grant him mercy. As much as it pained him, he knew they had plenty of time. We have all night.

He got one elbow on the mattress and pushed up, rolling around. He ended up on top again but instead of going down he leaned sideways, making a dive for the bedside table.

He dropped back, lube in hand, “C'mere,” Austin latched onto Jade’s mouth and he pulled her thigh up, found her pussy.

He stroked two fingers around and around and Jade gritted her teeth, her face going tight in an attempt not to fight back. Austin stroked her side with his free hand, splaying his fingers over Jade’s too-visible ribs. Being this close meant he could feel each twitch and intake of breath and shudder going through her body and it was intoxicating.

Austin fingered her clit with his thumb and Jade moaned, loud and salacious. She hooked her free hand around his neck and pulled him down, and he could feel, taste every noise Jade made at every push of his fingers.

“That’s – ” Jade started, but Austin pushed her back down, kissed her and bit down on her lip. She moaned again, hands tightening in his hair. She had to push Austin off forcefully and he went for her neck, licking the first drops of sweat off.

“Stop teasing,” she gasped.

Austin pulled his fingers back. He grabbed Jade’s shoulder and pulled, rolling them over, ending up beneath her. Jade leaned down on her elbows and kissed him.

And then he sat up, holding her as she adjusted her sitting position and he had her in his lap. One arm was locked, holding him up as he caught his breath, the other wound around her neck, his thumb stroked at her chin. Her arms wound around his neck as his touch became gentle.

They were such a fucking sight to behold. If anybody had told them at the beginning of the year that this was where they would end up, both of them would've laughed in pure disbelief. And yet, everything about this felt so comfortable, so safe.

"You okay?" she panted.

Was he? The short answer was no, but he had needed her more than he was willing to admit, "I'm taking it all in," he answered, his voice heavy and smooth, sounding as if it was slathered in honey.

"And your shoulder?"

Still stiff, still sore, but the pain was eclipsed by the adrenaline, "I'm okay,"

She raked his back; he felt the scrape of brittle nails, and thought dimly that was good -- she trusted him. Her lips curled into a smile, reminiscent of the Cheshire grin as she brushed her nose against his.

"Good. Now fuck me,"

He pulled her down, knee slotted between her legs, lips painting across her chest and wrapping around her nipple. Biting, licking, sucking, elevating and soothing. His other hand reached up to play with her other nipple, getting it hard between his fingers, tugging and pulling at it lightly before switching sides and taking it into his mouth, sucking and leaving hickey's along her breast as he grabbed at the other one.

Jade's hips kept bumping into his, her nails scratching through his scalp and her breathing grew heavy as he slipped down, further and further. Her moans were just encouragement as his tongue dove between her legs.

Shivers raced down her spine as his hands kept her thighs open for him and he buried his face into her pussy. Her breath hitched when his lips wrapped around her clit, a sinful whine spilling from her mouth and she reached up for the headboard, pulling at the metal bars to keep her grounded.

It wasn't good enough. Austin's momentary pause was quickly relieved as he reached to grab her hand and her fingers found his hair without a second beat.

Jade wriggled and he threw his leg over hers, keeping her down. Her body was surrendering quickly -- she always had a thing for being held down -- and Austin caught her other hand, enlaced his fingers with hers and put them back on the mattress. His eyes flitted up, watching her writhe, warm and slightly sweaty and so unbelievably fucking real. He could see Jade’s face, eyes squeezed shut, teeth buried in her bottom lip. God, I want to devour you...

"So go ahead," she began to laugh, coaxing him, and Austin was surprised. Shit, had he said that out loud?

He chuckled, "Sorry,"

"Why?" she caught his eye, her Bambi stare rapacious, insatiable, and he grounded his erection into the bed, a weak form of relief.

Austin couldn't stop himself even if he wanted to, before he knew it he was barraging her clit again. He could never get enough of her, wondered how long he could bury himself between her legs and eat her out until they both burned out.

Jade's eyes clamped shut, her head falling back onto the pillow as her back arched, Austin lapped at her throbbing, pulsing clit with little mercy. Her moans echoed throughout her bedroom as his tongue manipulated her, all thoughts went blank and the only thing she could focus on was the carnal desire, being claimed, marked, needed.

“Fuck!” she moaned, his fingers pinched her clit and she was teetering. He knew, he always knew. Austin had grown to know her body better than anything, he knew night after night Jade could only take so much before her moans turned into pants and she was surrendering to the tension trying to regain her strength. He wanted that just as much she did, he loved to watch her going through the motions of her orgasm.

She tasted like a dream, pure ecstasy on the tip of his tongue, pushing so hard against her slit a small yelp tore itself from her throat. He growled in response, guttural and lecherous, so fucking hot.

And then he stopped.

Her frustrated sob was almost as entertaining as her pleasure, and Austin couldn't lie he revelled in the sadism of it. Jade smacked at his shoulder, much to his amusement.

"You're the worst," she huffed.

He crawled on top of her, silencing her protests with his lips, messy and blissful. Her hands went around his neck, she moaned helplessly as he rocked against her.

"Didn't you tell me to slow down?" he mocked, laughing when she thumped the back of his head.

"Yeah, but your horoscope also said you aim to please, so..." she reached down between them and took his length in her hand, squeezing and sliding over him. She couldn't bite back her smirk as he jolted, revelled as she dragged him across her slit.

'Relax sweetheart," he kissed her jaw, "I'll give you what you want," and he pushed slowly inside. Jade’s head dropped back and she tilted her hips back, taking him inside, biting hard on her tongue.

Austin pulled his hips back a little and pushed in, fucking her just like he knew she liked. Jade’s moans matched his. God, this felt – felt like more than just sex, like… he couldn’t even put it in words, how right it felt to have her this close. No fucking poetry could do this justice.

He laughed, softly.

“What?” Jade growled.

“Nothing. I'm just -- you feel amazing,”

She didn’t reply – which was an answer all of its own, of course.

Austin pushed in again, slowly. Slow meant he got to relish each and every one of Jade’s reactions, all those little noises she tried so hard to keep quiet, the shivers and jerks and her fingers curling against his skin.

And because they were so riled up, it didn’t take that much before his hard, calculated thrusts sped up. Touch, feel, pleasure, that was all that was important, Jade’s pussy squeezing around him, holding her down like he fucking owned her, consumed the air around her. Everything in her room was becoming infested with Austin.

His free hand came up to her jaw, pulling her in for a kiss, fingers digging into her cheeks. She clutched at his shoulders as his touch became rougher again, his teeth scraping briefly over her bottom lip. Her hips started rocking again, erratic, desperate, please, don’t let him stop, not now, not this time –

And he didn't.

The world felt like it skidded to a halt. Jade couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, could do nothing but arch forward, fingers clutching at the sheets and his shoulder, as her orgasm ripped through her. She was only vaguely aware of Austin's grunt when he came, too lost in her own body and the sheer intense pleasure of it all.

She fell back, exhausted, shivering.

Consciousness trickled back slowly. The first thing she was aware of was the sound of heavy breathing. She opened her eyes, blinked. He was still leaning above her, sweat sticking to his brow, eyes closed. His forearms were trembling.

The tension in him released as her hands slid up his arms, soothing him, luring him into her safety. He collapsed on top of her, panting heavily in the crook of her neck. He was still snug inside of her.

The interior of Jade's home was exactly what Austin had expected. Bright, sleek, pale yellow walls encompassed the living room in comfort. Mirrors on the walls opened the space and rustic wood finishings and mouldings. Above the gas fireplace sat a shadowbox holding the platinum edition of her most recent record, Words & Things. She had a large bookcase holding titles there were both notable and not so, knick knacks of cutesy ceramics and wax bust candles were peppered in.

Off in the corner of the living room was a baby grand piano, papers were sat and scattered across the top, fingerprints were smudged across the once polished black exterior. He hadn't played the piano since the Elvis set; he had spent hours a day, day after day rehearsing the ballads he'd perform on set, was so committed to bringing as much authenticity and emotion to the music as he could.

His gaze focused on the papers on the stand, Jade's chicken scratch evident in the notes she'd written, crossed out, re-written and crossed out again. Tiny words were penciled in underneath the chords, and from he could remember it was the same song she had played for him on their video call. A multitude of titles were etched and crossed out at the top of the page, nothing solid had been picked. It may have been so mundane to the naked eye, but this was Jade's process; messy and disorganized, fragments of her story that were sowed together to appeal to the greater masses. He had to commend her for that sort of bravery.

Austin couldn't help but run his fingers across the ivory keys, he pressed down and fidgeted at the sharp droll of the D note he'd hit on accident. It was then that Jade returned from the kitchen, a plate of chopped fruit in her hand. She leaned against the wall, biting back her smile as she watched him finger at the keys with timid curiosity.

He soon spotted her in the corner of his eye, drawing back from the piano and smiling sheepishly, "Oh, hey,"

"Hi," she walked toward him, glancing at her piano, "Don't be shy. You wanna' play something?"

"No, it's cool. I don't wanna' mess up what you got going on here," he gestured to her papers.

"Oh, don't worry. Believe it or not, this is way cleaner than what it was," she offered up the plate, sliced oranges and apples.

"Thanks," he took an apple slice, "That's the song you played for me, right?"

She nodded, "Yeah,"

"Is it finished?"

"Just about," she placed the plate down, staring quizzically at the piano, "I'm not even sure if I'm gonna' release it,"

"How come?"

Jade sat at the bench, sitting opposite to the keys, "I just -- it feels too personal. I'm talking about trauma and sex and I'm dissecting every little misery in my life," she tailed off in a chuckle.

He glowered, "You're scared?"

"Basically," she stared up at him, "I don't want to sound like I'm deflecting about what I did,"

Austin sat beside her, sitting in front of the keys however as he skimmed the words of her song. Even now, he could just grasp the memory of her voice filtering through his phone, picking off every hitching breath and octave change in the lyrics. He looked to Jade now, her teeth were biting into her inner lip, she was picking at the frayed threads of her shirt to keep her hands occupied.

"Can I hear it?" he asked tentatively. A bout of fret flashed through her eyes, her gaze switched from his own to the papers, "I don't mind it's not finished, if that helps or... hinders...?"

Jade shook her head, "No, no, it's cool," though on the inside she felt her stomach begin to flutter. It was ridiculous in hindsight: she had played to arenas filled with well over three thousand people, spilling her guts and bruising herself up for the show. But here, cloistered in a house that didn't quite feel like a home yet, being so close to Austin, it felt like a weight to perform had been dropped over her shoulders.

Nonetheless, she stroked the keys softly.

"Don't judge much, it's still a work in progress," she simpered meekly.

Austin smiled back, "No worries,"

The piano was a quiet delight, the melody soft but held a simmering promise, like wind whipping across fields with the promise of a violent storm ahead. Austin couldn't help but watch, listen, become hypnotized in her skillful playing, her fingers jumped from key to key so swiftly, her head bounced forward with every hard punch of a note.

"I haven't done a cartwheel since I was nine I haven't seen my mother in a long, long time I mean, look at me Look at the length of my hair, and my face, the shape of my body Do you really think I give a damn What I do after years of just hearing them talking?"

And her voice was incomparable, fluttering in resonant pitch, almost whispering as if she feared raising her voice would break the trance.

"I say I live in Rosemead, really, I'm at the Ramada It doesn't really matter, doesn't really, really matter"

She paused suddenly as she came to the next verse, biting her tongue in an internal debate. Jade glanced at him from the corner of her eye. Austin was none the wiser to her skepticism; his elbow sat on the music stand, his hand cradled his chin, seemingly hyper fixed on her music.

"... Lead him up, "Come into my bedroom" Ended up, we fuck on the hotel floor It's not about havin' someone to love me anymorе This is the experiеnce of bein' an American whore"

Her playing continued, seemingly the only thing keeping Jade grounded as she tried to read Austin's face. It clicked for him near-immediately as soon as he heard the chorus, mixed feelings churned in his gut as he realized she had put him into the song. Just that part alone was too visceral, too clear and precise to be about just anyone.

Nevertheless, he was blown away equally by this caliber of music she'd written, but he was also quite taken aback. He remembered her utter fear after their first night together; the shame in being photographed in such a position, how she was more scared for him than she was for herself. Jade had such a low opinion of her own self worth and it showed. In a way, she had accepted that she was always going to be the quote-on-quote 'whore'.

Austin placed his hand over hers, bringing the music to a still. His thumb stroked over her knuckle, filtering for the right words, never truly finding the phrase that encompassed just how incredible he thought she was. Jade meanwhile was shaking -- on the inside, anyway. She cursed herself for not putting her sheets away because now Austin knew that she had been writing about him. Embarrassing? Maybe not so much. But the dazed look on his face said it all.

Her eyes flitted to the wounds on his knuckles, red, swollen, pulsating thick and quick, ready to rip open with the right action.

"Wow..." he finally spoke. Jade wasn't sure whether to let the relief wash over her or stay on her fence, ready to concede if she needed to.

"Yeah, it's okay," she reached to switch the sheets out, "Anyway, it's not finished so --"

"Was that part... about me?" he felt sheepish asking, because of course it was.

Jade inhaled sharply, looking to the ceiling as though praying for some suitable answer to bonk her on the head. So instead she settled for her good old friend, denial, "No," she shook her head.

Austin thought he might feel a little relief, but instead her answer annoyed him. She was lying, it was clear enough, and why she felt she had to lie to him was a little insulting. He didn't want to upset her at the same time, though.

"Really?" he popped a brow.

"Yeah," Jade nodded then, her gaze locking just below his eyes.

He sighed, "So... you've been sleeping with someone else?"

"What? No --" she then looked to the ceiling. She had spent too long tangling herself into her own web of bullshit, just to make herself feel better. But Austin deserved better than that, and she was exhausted.

"Okay, yeah. Fine," she shook her head in defeat, "This part's about you. T-The rest isn't," she quickly assured.

Okay, so he got his answer, but he was still a little irritated, "Why'd you lie?"

She scoffed, "Because you don't need to be dragged into my personal bullshit. Don't worry, I'll rewrite it,"

"... But... why? You don't need to," he replied, "Besides, even if you decide to release it, there's no telling that this person is actually me,"

"C'mon, Austin. You know how savvy the internet is. Shit, everyone on TikTok is a private investigator now," she replied, "You've got so much going on, I don't want this to taint your reputation,"

Austin shook his head, "Jade, if we were both in committed relationships, I get it. You don't have to protect me from anything -- including yourself,"

Her elbow fell onto the keys, releasing a squealing cacophony of random notes clashing together in a sharp burst. She jumped back and put her face in her hands, not so bashfully this time. She wasn't sure why she was making this so difficult for herself, she wasn't even sure if she was going to release the song. Austin was so logical and so reassuring, but what he'd failed to realize was the way he saw her was different from how she saw herself. How she worded her songs would go a long way; lyrics would be picked apart by critics until they wanted to trample over that border, rip open more of herself than she was willing to give with this snippet. It was hard for Jade to have things just for herself, and having Austin in her life again was something she wanted to fiercely protect. It was so much more than just sex or a feeling of being wanted, he had become her safe space all over again and if she had to lose him again, she wasn't sure she could cope.

"But that's the point. We're not dating," she finally met his eyes, shrouded in grief and defeat, "And as progressive as society has become, there's still a stigma around what we're doing,"

"You mean about the fuck-buddy thing,"

"Yes. If I was writing about having coffee with you, that's one thing,"

He cracked a smile then, "Well, according to our horoscopes, maybe we should be dating? We take the air out of a room," his coy smirk was charming, he was joking with her; but even that could only get him so far. Nevertheless, Jade tried to relax. After all, they were supposed to be having a good time with each other, she wasn't supposed to be depressing him.

If only she knew he didn't see it that way.

She simpered back, "You couldn't handle me," he couldn't decipher whether it was a joke or an empty promise, but he felt if given the chance he would challenge her on that without hesitation.

"That's your opinion," he relented, "What's it called?"

"Compatibility readings,"

"No," he chuckled, "The song. What's it called?"

"Oh," she blushed, staring keenly at her paper, "It's -- I -- mm. American Whore," she looked to him again.

It broke his heart knowing that's how she thought of herself, though he was amused by the title nonetheless, "Well, you're definitely going to have to change the title for a radio release,"

"Ugh. So boring," she groaned.

"I like it, though," he told her, "You're not a... to answer before, I don't think you're deflecting, Jade. This is your truth, after all,"

"Thanks," she took the pages and threw them atop the piano, shaking her head of whatever deprecation was knocking away to creep in. She reached for an orange slice, "Anyway. You wanna' play something?"

He was taken aback, it had been a while since he'd last played anything on the piano. His curiosity was still peaked, "Like what?"

"Whatever you want," she shrugged, "You still play, right?"

"I do," Austin simpered as he thought it over. He pressed down on a C note, testing himself, the soft drone of the key fading quickly. Jade's own fingers were still resting just below the keys, her nails scratching at the vinyl coating. The perfect song then popped into his head.

He played the G note delicately, the build up was slow but once he got going he was on a role. Jade was no expert, but she knew enough discography to recognize Suspicious Minds when she heard it, be it radio or schmaltzy piano cover. She began to laugh.

"We need to get you help," she chuckled.

He shrugged back, "You said I could play whatever I want, so..." he continued to play.

"I'm not eating those words," she muttered, shifting over so he had more room.

Jade was surprised, thinking by now Austin would probably be sick of anything Elvis related. But he embodied him so well, his playing was immaculate, only pausing here and there to ensure that he got the right key. Anyone else would be melting, killing for this experience, seeing the spirit of the King flowing through him, but to Jade he was still Austin, movie roles and manifestdestiny by damned. He was always going to be that same sweet boy who -- for some reason -- put up with her.

"Oh, let our love survive I'll dry the tears from your eyes Let's don't let a good thing die When honey, you know I've never lied to you"

Austin was surprised that he wasn't the one to sing first. It sounded so strange at first to hear those molten words leave Jade's lips, her pitch was delicate, soft, relaxed in a sophisticated acoustic tone, and by God he would swear he could listen to her sing all day.

"We're caught in a trap I can't walk out Because I love you too much, baby"

Tentatively, he joined her.

"Why can't you see What you're doing to me When you don't believe a word I say?""

If her heart could leap out of her chest it would've, his voice was buttery smooth in conjunction with her higher tone, blending together beautifully. Hearing him sing was a one off -- she had always known how damn talented he was. However, Jade was giddy, her face flushing red and she covered her mouth with her hand, trying not to laugh.

Austin laughed anyway, "Keep going!" he encouraged.

"I'm good," she was bashful for an entirely different reason, now.

He stopped playing, picking off how her shoulders bounced, her hair swaying softly with every move she made, the dimples poking into her cheeks at her beaming grin. And those lips of hers were so damn kissable, they had the power to draw him in and bring him to his knees if she so desired. And yet the most beautiful voice he'd ever heard came from beyond those lips, he wanted to hear her stories and her corny jokes, listen to her whims and worries about the world. And he loved when he could make her laugh because he knew by the sound of her tinker bell giggle how happy she was. How happy he could make her.

Jade had caught him staring, averted her eyes back to the keys. Austin nudged her gently with his elbow.

"What's on your mind?" he asked.

If only she could put so eloquently, so simply his answer. She looked to her papers, then, "Can I put you in my song?"

He scoffed, "You already have,"

"But if I decide to release it?"

She had started switching subjects more frequently; the more he tried to pry in, the more she would clam up. It was her way of protecting herself, he supposed, and while Austin understood why she felt she had to, he wished she didn't feel that way about him.

"Yes..." he answered, "You can put me in your song. Are you sure about the title, though?"

She simpered, "You don't like it?"

"It's not that I don't like it, I just disagree with it," he replied, "You're not a..." he didn't like saying it, "You're not a whore, Jade,"

Jade gave a little smirk as she stood up, "Really? I kinda sounded like one thirty minutes ago," she teased back.

Austin rolled his eyes, "Oh, please,"

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court-jobi · 2 years

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✨MASTERLIST ✨

Feel like jumping onboard to a high-stakes, cyber-synthwave hacker mystery in the stars? Or do you wanna cozy up and tuck into an adventure tale from the back of a trusty horse- with swords and magic on your side?... Just want to deep dive into headcanons from your favorite worlds?? I'm sure there's something for you here!

My plans currently sit within 4 main storylines in my favorite fandoms, though there will be one shots and headcanons welcome for any and all of these. I'm also not limited to the fanbases I'm currently writing for... There's plenty more I'd love to dabble in. Let's see where the writing adventure takes us, shall we?

Take a peek at my stories to come, or send me your burning questions about the fandoms below... I'm always up for a chat!

For my Star Wars | Mandalorian Masterlist, check it out here!

For my My Hero Academia Masterlist, check it out here!

Stay a while and read on, friends~

A Stroke of Luck: The Witcher AU

Art Credit: Pinterest

What if the Butcher of Blaviken had a stroke of good luck for once- or if fate can let him have it, twice? Let him catch his breath in the form of an un-problematic woman: one without decades of emotional baggage and mutagen-festered turmoil wrenching into his love life… A lass graced with charm and humour in droves... but with a soulful, caring spirit unlike any he'd ever met.

There's no magic to be seen in her- but instead a crafty skill set and sound mind has kept her alive, only with a gentle touch in a cruel world. He can hardly believe the reprieve he's found in this unsuspecting friend- an herbalist with a listening ear for a man who’s heard and seen it all. What if Geralt of Rivia just had something nice for once... and that made all the difference in the hellscape of monsters that is the life of a Witcher?

Wouldn’t that be a welcome change of pace for the body and mind and heart- to have something sweeter to look forward to at the end of a contract…

A/N: Enter Ken'elrena of Dun Dâre- or Kenna, as the kiddos call her. The nickname is much easier to slip off the tongue- Geralt’s especially. He’s finding he likes that name more and more each time they cross paths. And now? Well, now he's not so sure he ever wants to go separate ways from her for long…

ASoL: main story (multi-chapter) ~ Release TBD will be weekly installments!

ASoL: Character sheet | Kenna ~ Release TBD

ASoL: Character sheet | Geralt ~ Release TBD

Teaser One-shot: ~ Behind the Bar

Teaser one-shot: ~ Night Walks and Good Talks

ASoL: The Midland Years ~ Release TBD

Dropped in Middle Earth: Sanâzyun

Art Credit: 'The Hall of the Mountain King's JeiWo on DeviantArt

Sanâzyun: perfect love

That's what Thorin began calling this woman in secret- 8 months ago. She'd wrapped up bits of leftovers for the Company in a thoughtful move, calling them all to 'pack snacks and make tracks, gents!' From that day on, something warmed him deep inside his hardy chest when she snuck his treat into his jacket pocket with utmost care. Good thing their Agreement is still on, and she doesn't suspect a thing-- yet.

To Tessa, wizards were fabled as a bunch of kids going to a school to learn their magic or a mouse dressed in a blue, starry hat making brooms come to life~ not dinner guests by the name of Gandalf. She calls this whole turn of fate 'wizard shit'; but doesn't question it and tagged along the Company of dwarves for the ride. But perhaps there's more at work -and more within her- that is magical, and only just out of reach- or just out of key. Time will tell when the dust settles after the Battle of the Five Armies to find out what brought her here, and how the quest for home didn't end when the Company arrived to Erebor.

A/N: DiME: Sanâzyun is my take on a modern lass gets dropped into Middle Earth-- but there's no craving to go back to 2022 anytime soon! While figuring out this plot twist only ever heard of in the movies, Tessa DeVon makes sense of the new life she's making with her Dwarven found family and takes each day as it comes. The clash of cultures and learning curve is both jarring and laughable; because if you can't beat 'em, join 'em. Plenty of feelings, fix-its, and lore-ridden fantasy in this expansion of the Hobbit Epilogue: the beloved Durins Live AU is in full swing here!

One-Shot: Erebor is your Rome

One-Shot: Better Angels

One-Shot: A Scar and its Story

One-Shot: Want for Nothing

DiME: Sanâzyun timeline~ Release TBD

Journal Entries: song list ~ Release TBD

Journal Entries: animals ~ Release TBD

Letters from the Shire (collection) ~ Release TBD

Story One-shots (Collection): ~ Release TBD

DiME: Sanâzyun character sheet: Tessa DeVon ~ Release TBD

Fili Headcanons ~ Release TBD

Kili Headcanons ~ Release TBD

Rex: Heart of a Soldier

Art Credit: Pinterest

At the bustling center of our favorite galaxy far, far away lies Coruscant: the center of the Grand Army of the Republic's operations and home to the Jedi Temple alike, but also the start line of a greater danger than a mere galactic war between Republic and Separatist politics... The holonet brings even the most unlikely of allies together, but is also the perfect chance to be the playground of havoc and chaos if tampered by the wrong hands.

To stay a step ahead of the bad guys, a charming, tech-savvy lone wolf is called to action with a team of unlikely friends for an even more unlikely job: slice for the good guys. Until now, she's operated in a world of gray- this shift into army life is sure to test her ties and trust. Though maybe the 501st's star Captain can help her rise to the occasion... and perhaps he can learn more in turn about this big 'ole galaxy he's been exposed to. With enough encouragement, hope, and examination of the heart, Rex may even try his hand at imagining a life after the war.

A/N: This story's got it all: a beautiful, sassy, Angel-Eyes love story for our dear, darling Captain Rex (who deserves the world), a hacker race-to-the-finish saga with twists and turns across the galaxy, easter eggs for Star Wars fans young and old, and a platonic soulmate thread that spans long after the war is over.

Love Found the Captain (snippet)

Quit Flirting? Not a Chance. (one-shot)

Rex: HOAS (multi-chapter) ~ Release TBD will be weekly installments!

HOAS Arc 2 | ((unnamed Book 2) ~ Release TBD

HOAS Arc 3 | ((unnamed Book 3)) ~ Release TBD

Rex: HOAS character sheet: Sawyer Lyubava ~ Release TBD

R: HOAS character sheet: Root ~ Release TBD

R: HOAS character sheet: Agent ~ Release TBD

R: HOAS character sheet: Bootstrap ~ Release TBD

R: HOAS character sheet: Query~ Release TBD

Tea Time (one-shot) ~ Release TBD

Who doesn't know how to make caf? (drabble) ~ Release TBD

501st Headcanons ~ Release TBD

HOAS Spicy Headcanons ~ Release TBD

Slicing for Nerf-Herders | resource guide

My Hero Academia: Triple Threat

One text from a former mentor led to a chain of emails...Then a four hour phone conference... Then an impromptu, three-way Zoom call between a language ambassador, an ex-hero turned teacher, and a quirk doctor who all agreed to some wild terms and set a plan in motion. Given the resources among the three, they posed an unlikely– but deadly– Triple Threat.

A/N: Three powerhouse women-- whether they believe themselves to be or not-- are teaming up for a triple threat force heading to Japan. Plenty of Marvel and DC content to bring this story to life, all in the current world of Kohei Horikoshi's My Hero Academia. The Hero Worlds of East and West collide; readers will find little bits and pieces from your heroes around the world in this fic! Plenty of Marvel and DC content help bring this story to life.

MHA: Triple Threat (multi-chapter) ~ Release TBD

Prologue ~ Release TBD

#masterlist #my work #star wars fanfiction #the witcher fanfiction #my hero academia fanfic #the hobbit fanfiction #lotr fanfic #clone wars fanfiction #marvel fanfiction

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chuluoyi · 1 year

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UNHOLY MATRIMONY — 01

✩°｡ ⋆ to be wed

- fushiguro megumi x oc/reader - oc/reader's character name is hara sena, pronouns still refer to “you” and i won’t mention it often—just for the sake of aesthetic rather than repeatedly writing "y/n"

in another life, in which fate is still screwing his life over, Fushiguro Megumi finds himself in an arranged marriage―with you.

genre/warnings: arranged marriage au, family drama, angst to eventual fluff in later chapters, slight profanity (hopefully)

notes: in case you are wondering―no. this isn't a love triangle between you, megumi and naoya. naoya is an antagonist side piece to make this story spicier.

series masterlist | next. unholy matrimony

Megumi had known it all along, that sooner or later, his checkered past would come back to bite him.

When Gojo told him that the Zen’in had called to make him reclaim his birthright, he was at a loss for words. And when he further explained that to stake his claim he had to make his standing clear and strong by marrying a girl he barely knew, he was angry.

"I don't want a place in that Zen'in hell. Forget it, you're making no sense."

"Megumi," Gojo started, crossing his arms and looking at him with a meaningful smirk and Megumi so badly wanted to wipe it off his sensei's face. "It's yours by right. All those things you've endured until now? It's for this precise moment. They covet your Ten Shadows Technique, and so you already have an advantage against Naoya. You have the chance to save your sister, Maki and Mai from that hell."

He shot him an irritated look. "I like my current life now, why would I go back there? And how do I save Tsumiki by fighting over inheritance against Zen'in Naoya? Are you right in the head, Gojo-sensei?"

"When you have a clan as prominent as Zen'in at your disposal, you can find an easier way to break her curse," his teacher said, visibly proud with his suggestion. "And that's why I'm telling you―the Hara girl is your key for that. Naoya wants to marry her, but if you do it first, then everything is yours for the taking."

Megumi recognized you as the girl from Kyoto Jujutsu High in his school days. He remembered seeing you during the goodwill event, and the only lasting impression he had of you was that you managed to befriend Inumaki, even though he just babbled a bunch of random onigiri ingredients.

Aside from that, he knew too little about you to draw a conclusion on anything.

"Don't you want to save Tsumiki?" Gojo was playing with his weakness, and Megumi knew it. He was trying to get him to do this insane bidding, but found himself unable to reject him outright the second time.

Did he want his birthright? No. Of course not. Megumi had enough of shit in his life already, and he was content with the way things were now.

But to save Tsumiki?

Apparently he was crazy enough to go with this.

And that was how he found himself walking by the temples in the Zen’in compound with you.

“Do you despise this arrangement?” you asked him warily, trying to gauge his emotions at all, because ever since the talk inside he had been nothing but a straight face. Even faced with Naoya’s boiling fury, he merely kept his silence. Now only Gojo stayed inside to broker the agreement with the Zen’in for your hand in this marriage with him instead of Naoya.

He stopped walking, and paused a moment to look at you, before sighing. “Would it make a difference if I was?”

“I suppose not.” You looked away, suddenly feeling guilty. He didn’t know that you have forced Gojo’s hand, and for a long time, you certainly didn’t want him to know. Your cover story was your clan wanted you to be betrothed to the Zen’in who inherits their signature fatal technique. “But you’re still human, and have feelings. You must feel something right now, like resentment towards me.”

Megumi scoffed. He had learned from a long time ago that people didn’t care about his feelings, or about him as a person at all.

“Hating you doesn’t make it any better for both of us, does it?” his gaze remained impassive.

If he was already this prickly, what would he do when the truth did come out? You swallowed your worry though, and put on your brave face.

“I know you don’t want this. Neither do I. But I think it’ll do us better if we can get to know each other first.”

“Right now?” he looked at you incredulously, having the expression of someone whose patience was being tested. “What more do I have to know? You’re Hara Sena. You went to Kyoto High, we were in the same year. And Naoya seems to have some sort of obsession with you by the way he keeps glaring at me for this.”

You widened your eyes at the blatant refusal. “Fushiguro Megumi, you’re as unfriendly as everyone says,” you retorted, now vexed at his biting tone. “You certainly live up to your reputation.”

“I know.”

For the first time after meeting him today, Megumi's mouth twisted into a genuine smirk. A chuckle escaped him as he looked at the boring lengths of the trees around him.

"How did you live all this time without Zen'in clan's intervention?" you cut through the awkward silence beside him.

"Why do you care about how I grew up?"

"Nothing, just curious is all. You are to be my husband and we must at least be on talking terms."

He let out a groan. "You're really going to be this way the whole time, won't you?"

"Come on, answer the question. I'll answer too if you ask me next."

Megumi paused on his tracks, arms on his hips. "Gojo-sensei took care of everything. You've heard how the story goes―that's all there's to it. I owe him my life." He tilted his head to the side, his hands now deep into his pockets. "What about you? What drove you into this?"

You held back a smile. "You might hear it already, my father's principal wife isn't my biological mother. I'm a product of my father's affair. Now I'm plucked as a chess piece to marry into the Zen'in to do my duty as a daughter. We're not so different, aren't we?"

"Yeah, we're just alike..." he mumbled to himself with a heavy tone, continuing the walk. "But then you wouldn't know. I'm not some mistake that got kicked around. There was a purpose behind my upbringing. Gojo-sensei didn't take me in for free."

"Hah," you barked a satire laugh. The nerve of him. "A mistake, huh? True enough."

He side-eyed you, so you elaborated further. You were not above being petty too. "No, I mean I'm the mistake. But you have a grander purpose―that is to serve the purpose of the Zen'in, whatever it is."

Megumi rolled his eyes. He was irritated, but not just because of your snide remark. "Can't have me dying without an heir, apparently," he said dryly, but then his expression changed again to one of disgust. "This whole thing is gross, you know? Us being wed just for a cursed technique. Or filial piety. A bunch of bullshit."

"That's one thing we can agree on," you shrugged, now clearly amused. Hey, maybe a life with him won't be so bad after all. He's quite sarcastic and relatable.

Megumi grunted, and both of you walked in silence for a while. His pace had slowed down a bit and when he spoke, his voice came out softer. "So, you seem pretty level-headed with all of this, and you seem eager to get to know me, why? Not that I'm totally opposed to it, but it's not like we're going to become bosom friends or anything."

You threw him a look. "I'm telling you―I don't want a marriage in which we yell everyday. I don't expect us to fall in love or anything, but the least we can do is become friends, don't you think?"

"Friends?" Megumi wondered out loud. He thought over what you said for a few moments. "Ah, I get it. If you married Zen'in Naoya, you'd spend the rest of your life miserable," he concluded with a click of his tongue. "I am the lesser of two evils, that's why you're fine with this."

"More or less, yes." You shifted your gaze from him to the gardens. "Glad to know you caught on that quick."

"So that's that. And you're right about one thing... we can't just yell at each other every day." He paused for a moment for a dramatic effect and then he chuckled. You were quite scheming, changing sides the moment he was called back into the Zen'in, he thought. "Yeah, now I can see why Naoya was so cranky. You have a way to annoy people," he joked.

"I'm not! I'll have you know I'm quite prim and proper."

"Really? You sure don't come off like that."

You whipped your head at him, halting your steps. Okay, now it's on. You're going to take him with you whether he likes it or not. To hell with what you did behind his back. "Well, you will, dear husband."

You almost let out a snicker when he froze at your usage of that endearment. Oh, so he gets shy easily.

His grip on the fabric of his pockets tightened. "Don't you call me that."

"Why? You are, though."

"I'm not your dear anything!" Megumi snapped, his voice becoming harsher. "I'm forced to enter this shit of a marriage and nothing more."

"Are you blushing?"

He froze again and this time you really laughed at his face.

How could he be blushing right now? Why? He tried to deny it but his face felt hot. "No... I'm not."

"Ahh, so you're that type... Well noted, dear," you winked, and Megumi swore your bright face did something to his insides that made his heart beat a tad bit faster. "I'll make sure to express myself often so you won't have to."

He turned his face away, effectively embarrassed. You were getting on his nerves. "I hate it when you say that."

You literally beamed, peering at him. "No, no. You'll come to find it tolerable."

He frowned. This girl... no one would've expected that you were caught in an unwanted arranged marriage with how freewheeling you seemed. And all in all, you still resembled the happy girl in his memories who tried to make a conversation with Inumaki some years ago. If all he had to do to save Tsumiki was marrying you, then he supposed it wasn't a bad deal after all.

Megumi muttered something under his breath, grumbling to himself.

"...yeah, maybe. We'll see."

"You damnable woman..." Naoya hissed under his breath. His hands clenched as blood seeped between them.

He was a step behind! He could've lost his status as the heir! All because that Gojo Satoru and his very presence insisted that he'd be the sponsor for that washed up bastard Fushiguro!

And that scheming Hara wench... Even you wriggled your way out of his grasp. What sort of ridiculous notion was this? How could he let his pride be stomped twice over the course of one day?

All his life, Naoya was led to believe that he was groomed to be the head of the clan. He was praised, cherished and deemed as the most promising. Everyone else was like ants he could stomp all over. He was born to rule over them.

And he still believed that until now, even as his inheritance was slipping away from his grasp.

He stared at the dead body of a servant girl who just got him his tea with a blank look, and raised his chin up. Undiluted hatred shone right through it.

No one gets away after scratching his back. Maybe Gojo Satoru can, but certainly not a girl from an insignificant clan or a bastard who tried to usurp his place.

Starting from Hara Sena, he thought with a snarl. You might've gotten away from your marriage with him, but he wouldn't let you go so easily. He'd make your life so hellish even when you were not with him.

And then, Fushiguro Megumi. He already had plans for him right from the moment the clan elders showed approval for his claim. He had plotted a way to get rid of him.

A sneer cut through his lips as he kicked the mangled corpse away. "Heh."

next : unholy matrimony

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figureinthedistance · 1 year

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But really the main thing abt greys anatomy n any medical drama is how constantly alert ur emotions are bc well ig except when they do silly comic relief stuff literally every plot has such high stakes its all life + death shit + if death isnt the risk its still like a major reduction in quality of life or something... + thats a plot that takes up like a cumulative seven minutes of the episode but its still gonna make me cry... Its minimalist story telling like its literally like the barest bones of what u need to do to get a human invested in a situation thats what medical dramas are. This person might die. Also this person might die. Also this person might die. Now watch them for forty minutes...

#Like this ep w richards old sponsor who comes back n needs an operation #+ i rlly thought i was only half paying attention like i didnt rlly care abt it compared to some other stuff going on #But then he comes out of the operation looking sad n i gasp n im suddenly so worried n heartbroken thinking she died #+ then it turns out she didnt die! + i start laughing w happiness. Like its literally just such easy emotions

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mccarthymolly · 2 years

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#Window hmkhm #Uh

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illylli · 2 years

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Bite My Tongue (Pt. 3) | Eddie Munson x fem!Reader

→ After the successful launch of Eddie’s original DnD campaign, you convince him to take you on a late-night drive. You reveal hidden fears and hopes, and bond over your shared desires. Eddie gets too comfortable and takes things a step too far.

→ 3.5k words: including mentions of abuse, an emotional heart-to-heart, eddie singing in the car and generally being an incredible person

→ a/n: i sincerely apologise for all the heartbreak, i promise i’ll make it up to you guys in the next part ♥️

♫ mood: ‘dionne’ by the the japanese house

→ read part 1 | → read part 2

A couple weeks and countless nights spent planning in your room later, Eddie was ready to launch the Hellfire Club into the greatest DnD campaign they’d ever, and possibly would ever, play in their lives.

He had gone all out: decking the classroom they hired out bi-weekly in set pieces he’d convinced the drama department to let him borrow, along with some things he’d made himself out of a bit of cardboard and sheer determination.

The look on his friends’ faces was well worth the effort. Dustin and Mike were especially impressed, sharing a slack-jawed look, taking in the mystical elements that transformed the space into a medieval-inspired dungeon. Plastic torches flickered with fake fire; the space surrounded by cardboard castle walls accompanied by hanging plastic skeletons, the long table adorned with daggers and jewels and chalices filled with fake blood.

If anyone walked in now, it’d be near impossible to convince them DnD wasn’t satanic.

It was when all the guys had taken their seats, Eddie clearing his throat to put on his most theatrical voice as he raised his arms, when you burst in.

“Shit, sorry,” your voice hushed, and you began backing out of the door “I’ll come back when you’re done.”

Eddie dropped his arms with a wide smile, “We haven’t started yet. You wanna watch?” He walked towards you, hand sliding up the door, holding it in place, “It’s just as much your story as it is mine, you know.”

“I came to return these,” you placed your closed fist onto his palm, transferring the collection of silver rings, “You left them at my place again.”

It was becoming a habit. He had started leaving them there after he’d forgotten them that first night, on your bedside table. He figured it’d give you an excuse to come see him, if you ever needed one.

You picked up his hand, brushing a tender touch over the rose-bush cuts that had healed into white slivers on his fingers, then slid his rings on.

He raised an eyebrow at your wrist. “My bracelet.”

You clutched it to your chest. “It matches my outfit today.” It was the only piece of jewellery of his that fit, so you’d decided to steal it.

Mike cleared his throat, and Eddie flipped him off without looking away from you.

“So,” he smiled, “You’ll watch?”

Eddie had already felt giddy, knowing this was to be the first day of his campaign. But now that he had your eyes on him during it? It was like floating on a cloud of pure bliss. Every time something dramatic happened he’d glance at you, totally entranced, your elbows on your knees as you sat on the edge of your seat.

No, not seat. Throne. Because Eddie had given you the head place at the table, the omnipresent goddess of the world you’d helped him create. You were haloed in gentle light, a real-life angel blessing them with your presence.

You shared in the excitement, cheering along when someone rolled for a successful action, and hiding your face during tense encounters. During the session you teased Mike and Dustin endlessly, and Eddie could see you were close with Mike, which wasn’t surprising.

The kid kept looking to you for advice on how to progress when the road diverged into different paths. Unluckily for him, you had no stakes in the game and only wanted to pursue the decisions that would land him in the most trouble.

You’d laugh whenever your choice backfired, and Eddie could scarcely do his job as Dungeon Master because he felt his chest go all fluttery whenever he heard the sound, his breath stolen from him and steeped in your mirth.

By the time the session came to an end, he felt slightly relieved, because he wasn’t sure how long he could go on pretending in front of everyone that he wasn’t totally head over heels for you.

You stayed back to help him pack up all the décor, which he appreciated endlessly.

“I didn’t know you get super into it,” you said as you reviewed the session, “You’re really passionate.”

Eddie felt a pang of embarrassment, rubbing his neck as he replied, “Yeah, I can go a bit overboard with the voices and stuff.”

“No,” you stopped, turning to him, arms filled with the skeleton he’d stolen from the biology classroom, “No, it’s great! It makes everything feel more immersive.”

He chuckled, “You think so?”

You ducked behind the skeleton, making it wave. You put on a ghoulish voice and said “I knooooow so.” Eddie just about burst a lung as he laughed.

“Fuck, you’re precious.”

You’d never cared much for the phrase about feeling butterflies in your stomach, but when Eddie said that, his head tilted and his eyes full of adoration, you felt as though your body had become a butterfly sanctuary, fluttering wings replacing the marrow of your bones, replacing the beating of your heart.

He went back to cleaning up like nothing had transpired, but you stood there for a couple more seconds, wondering why Chance had never called you precious before.

With an extra set of hands, packing up took half the time setting up had, and Eddie was left wondering how he’d spend the evening, as it was still young by the time you’d almost finished loading up the van.

There was only really one thing left.

“You want it back?” you asked as he threaded his hand underneath the chain bracelet, fingernails scraping gently against your pulse.

Eddie shook his head. “Keep it.” It would be fair that you carried a reminder of him, since the heart in his chest was a constant reminder of you.

“Hey Munson.”

Chance’s voice startled you apart, and you felt guilty without really knowing why.

“What’re you doing here, honey?” He greeted with a kiss to the side of your head, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

“Just helping Eddie pack his things,” you explained, “Did you win your game?”

“Nope. We sucked. Let’s get out of here.”

A group of rowdy jocks passed by, headed by Jason. He let out a low whistle at the sight, “Mingling with the freaks now, Chance? We didn’t lose so hard that you’re looking for new friends, right?”

Chance chuckled, not noticing how tense you’d gotten next to him. Eddie could see the distress clear in your body language. You did not feel comfortable around Chance’s friends.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he replied, “C’mon, Jason’s giving us a lift.”

You rolled out of his grip, “I’m not finished yet.”

Eddie was about to interject and let you know he could handle the rest when Chance rolled his eyes and asked “You want a ride home or not?”

The impatience paired with his flaring nostrils annoyed him way too much.

“I’ve got her,” Eddie retorted, a little possessive.

Chance looked like he was about to reject the offer, but Jason called out his name, and he let it go.

“I’ll see you at your place later,” he told you, slipping back to catch up with the others.

You let out a loud sigh, rubbing your eyes with the edge of your palms.

“You okay?” Eddie asked, and you looked surprised he was asking.

“Yeah, I’m good.”

He led you to the passenger side, opening the door for you, wincing as it creaked. When he started up the van he opted for the safe option of the radio, not trusting his hands to be steady if he loaded up a cassette. It was tuned to the local alternative radio, and he tapped his fingers against the steering wheel as he drove the route to your house.

He could see out of the corner of his eye how dejected you’d become, sinking into the seat, eyes following the landscape painted in black under the moonlight as it passed by.

“You okay?” He asked again.

You sat up a bit, glancing at him. “Yeah, I just…” You played with the sleeve of your shirt, “don’t really want to go home yet.”

“You hungry?”

That turned out to be the golden question, and you soon found yourself sitting in the parking lot of a burger king, eating crappy food with a satisfied smile. Eddie spilt mustard on his Hellfire shirt, and despite rubbing at his profusely, it wasn’t going to come out without a good wash.

You almost choked on your drink as he pulled the top over his head, balling it up and throwing it into the back. He pushed up and hovered between the two front seats, the guitar pick on his necklace dangling as he searched for something to change into.

He was so close you could feel the heat of his body; smell the hint of cigarette smoke mixed with cheap cologne. You tried not to stare at his chest, but to your credit, it contained a few interesting tattoos to ogle.

Then your eyes drifted elsewhere, towards his back, and you were stunned at the scarring there, evidence of past lacerations across his spine.

He caught you looking when he sat back in the driver’s seat, a Metallica shirt in his hands. You decided not to say anything, not wanting to drudge up past trauma if he wasn’t ready.

“What do they mean?” You pointed at his tattoos, hoping he didn’t think you were staring because of anything else.

Eddie looked down at his chest, tracing his tattoos. He looked up at you with a goofy smile and said, “They don’t mean anything. They’re just cool.”

You huffed a laugh at his response, watching as he pulled the new shirt over his head. Now dressed and clean, he wrapped his hand around the handbrake, but paused, looking over to you.

“You wanna tell me what’s got you so bummed out?”

It shouldn’t have shocked you, his attention to your mood. He somehow always knew what you were feeling.

“It’s stupid,” you said, and he gave you a look that said no it’s not. “I guess I kinda feel trapped.”

Eddie turned his body to you, listening intently.

“I’ve been in Hawkins my whole life. I want to leave so badly, but Chance wants to settle down here. I know this is a horrible thing to say, but I honestly can’t think of anything worse than raising a family here. I don’t want to be relegated to some baby making machine, I want to travel and do amazing things!”

You dropped your hands from where you’d been waving them in the air to accentuate the graveness of your matter. “It’s easy for people like Chance. Highschool has given him his best years. But I’m not like that. I feel like I’ve barely even lived.”

You looked back at Eddie, a small smile on his face. “I sound like an idiot, don’t I?”

“No,” he said, pushing the handbrake down, “Put your seatbelt on. Let’s get out of here.”

‘Here’ had apparently been in reference to Hawkins, and you noticed as soon as he missed the turnoff that would bring you home. Excitement filled you, and you shared a wordless smile as Eddie got onto the highway, driving North, away from town.

There’s something about the highway late at night, most lanes empty. The darkness of the enveloping trees and the navy sky above a comfort despite their monotony as you watch it all fly past through the window. Eddie sung along quietly to the radio, and though you’d heard his voice before, you never got sick of listening to it.

Just as you thought he might never stop, the road stretching on forever, Eddie flicked his indicator to the off ramp, a big sign indicating that he was heading for Kokomo. It wasn’t anything special; a sleeping town similar to Hawkins, but at least it was somewhere new, somewhere you could watch pass by through the window and wonder about the people who lived here, and what stories they’d lived out.

Eddie had obviously never been here before either, looking down every street, slowing down at every turn to see if there was anything interesting to discover. Eventually, he pulled onto a dirt road that led to a park, and he parked the van atop a bridge. A lazy river flowed underneath it, moonlight glittering on the calm water.

The air somehow smelt fresher here, and you took a lungful, feeling cleansed when you exhaled. Eddie knelt next to the van, motioning for you to take a step up. He hoisted you onto the roof and joined you shortly, the van bouncing slightly as he settled beside you to take in the view.

“Know any constellations?” he asked, reclining onto his back to take in the sky.

You shook your head, looking up. “I don’t.”

“Then we’ll make our own.”

Eddie pointed out a collection of stars that looked like a smiley face. You struggled to point out one that looked like a dog. He said it looked more like a cat when he finally found it. His arm kept brushing yours as he gestured to the star he liked most; one that was flashing.

“It’s probably been dead for millions of years.”

Eddie popped up onto his elbows, “Is that right?”

You smiled, eager to teach him anything you could. “More than half the stars in the sky that we can see right now have probably gone supernova ages ago. Light travels pretty slowly, and because they’re so far away, their light only reaches us after they’re gone.”

He frowned, “That’s sad.”

You shrugged. “It’s just what happens. The one that’s flashing is probably going supernova, millions of years ago, but also right now.”

Eddie laid back down next to you, the edge of his pinky brushing against yours. “Like you.”

You turned your head, looking at him for an explanation.

“You’re this brilliant, amazing person, and whenever anyone looks at you all they see is light,” Eddie wondered if he was being cheesy, but he’d already begun his little spiel, so he didn’t dare stop now and keep you wondering. “I’m just worried that they’re convinced you’re fine when in reality you’ve been, and you are, breaking down.”

He was giving you an invitation to either shoot him down or give into the topic. He knew he’d managed to pull it off when you nudged his pinky, wrapping yours around his.

“It’s not their fault. I’m too good at pretending everything’s fine.”

“What’s on your mind?”

You looked back up at the stars, your eyes glassy, reflecting their shine. “Everything feels so stagnant. My job, school, my family, Chance.” You swallowed before continuing, “All I’ve ever done is work hard to make everyone happy. I know I’m lucky, and I shouldn’t complain. My parents have sacrificed so much for me, including their happiness.”

“And I know they don’t expect anything in return. All the pressure is self-enforced. But I need to be the dutiful daughter. The perfect girlfriend. The diligent student. I have a duty to be the person they need me to be. To surpass them and prove, to myself more than anyone, that all the pain and frustration was worth it. I should feel honoured, but I just feel stuck. I carry the burden of everyone’s problems and the moment I try to focus on mine, it’s like no one’s listening.”

“Hey, I’m listening.”

You turned back to him, stars trembling in your eyes.

“I’m sorry for ranting. You and Nance are the only people I feel like I can really talk to. But with Nancy, I feel like I can’t tell her everything. I don’t want her to worry. She’s been through enough.”

“Don’t ever apologise for getting things off your chest,” he reassured you.

You nodded, gifting him a small smile. “Are you doing alright?”

“Oh, I’m just peachy,” Eddie teased, “But yeah, I can definitely relate to that kind of pressure, in a different way.”

“Yeah?”

He nodded. “The part about wanting to surpass your parents, become a better person to prove that the pain was worth it? Though, I think your folks are a lot nicer than mine were.”

You’d never brought it up, but you knew there had to be a reason Eddie lived with his uncle and rarely mentioned his parents.

“Can thank my dad for the sick scars on my back,” he sat up, hugging his knees to his chest. “It was a relief when he got addicted, because uh, at least then he was too dosed up to give a shit. That’s why I'm always careful when I get high. Don’t wanna end up like a zombie, like he did. And I owe it to my uncle to be a better person.” He picked at the tears in the knees of his jeans. “I understand how it gets tiring, trying to do right by those who’ve supported you, especially when they can’t really understand you. At the end of the day that’s all anyone wants, right? To be understood.”

“Not loved?”

Eddie shook his head, “Nah. Anyone can love you. But love feels different when it comes from someone who really knows you. Someone who sees all the bad as well as the good, and still wants you.

You sat up then, and slowly pushed your hand up his shirt. Eddie’s eyes met yours as you felt the raised flesh of his back, valleys of suffering he had kept hidden right beneath the surface.

Moving your legs, you slid up behind him, wrapping him up in your arms as you pressed a kiss to his back. Eddie sunk into your embrace, feeling deeply safe and secure.

“I promise,” he spoke, and you could feel the reverberations of his chest, “We’re going to get out of Hawkins. I’ll buy an old camper or something, do it up reeeeal nice. You can write while we’re on the road, and I’ll play a few gigs, and when we get sick of it we’ll leave it at the airport and fly away to wherever you want.”

“Eddie.” There was a warning in your tone. Fantasies at a time like this weren’t going to help.

“Even if we do stay trapped in Hawkins for the rest of our lives,” he reached up and squeezed your hand, “I’m glad I’m trapped with you.”

He was baring his heart to you now, bleeding and on a silver platter. You wished he was the answer to all your problems. What you would have given to tell him you wanted him to take you away forever.

But reality was still only a 50-minute drive away, and it wasn’t going to go away. You had a Chance waiting for you, and you had to remain loyal to the man who had fallen for you a year ago, because you’d chosen him. Even though your heart ached for Eddie, and over the past few weeks it had become impossible to ignore the fact that you wanted him more than anything.

You’d just gotten too used to ignoring what you wanted in order to provide what other people needed from you.

“(Y/n)?”

You moved away from him, swinging your legs over the edge of the van’s roof. Eddie knew then he’d fucked up. He’d revealed too much, and you saw him for the reject he was. Or worse: you truly did care about him, but had realised his feelings for you were a lot deeper, and now he was just another person pressuring you to be someone he needed, when it wasn’t what you wanted.

He bit down on his tongue, wishing he could take back the last few minutes, rewind to when he was in your arms.

“Should get you home before your folks start worrying.”

“Yeah,” you wiped at your face, like you were crying. You were. “Good idea.”

The radio filled the silence on the way home, playing dionne warwick’s ‘walk on by’. You watched the roads become familiar again with tears in your eyes, and you felt like you were suffocating despite breathing just fine.

Chance was waiting by your front door as Eddie pulled up, his arms crossed as he saw the van. Eddie could see that your cheeks were wet in the reflection of the glass. He wanted to reach out, to comfort you in some way, but by the time he’d worked up the nerve you had already opened and closed the door, making your way to your boyfriend.

He couldn’t hear, but he saw the start of an argument brewing like a storm as you walked into the front door with your head hung low.

Eddie pressed his forehead to the steering wheel, simply breathing, trying to think of nothing. When he lifted his head, the light was on in your room, and though he’d been in there dozen times by now, the place now looked foreign to him.

Forbidden.

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