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poptod · 3 years

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The Breeding Kings pt. 2, (Ahkmenrah x Reader)

Description: Creeping closer.

Notes: can you tell how much im geeking out on the pyramid section of this. can you. now i want you to guess how long i researched it for a scene that was only supposed to be a few paragraphs and some dialogue. WC: 8.9k (sorry)

The way back to your house was a slow crawl, but a necessary evil. After the incident in which your clothes were ruined, Ahkmen offered to clean your clothes for you, a task you knew little about and usually didn't have to do in the first place. You accepted, though there was an issue––you didn't own any other clothes.

Rushlights in your tiny bedroom dimly reflected off the hanging silks and shawls, bathing the room and your skin in deep purples and reds darkened by both the evening and the smoke of incense.

Cloth rustled in the other room, making your shoulders seize up. The funny little Egyptian man who had taken up most of your evening with laughter was not someone you could fully trust, but few were, and you could still enjoy his companionship for the remaining minutes of the evening. He would leave soon––with your clothes––and you would not be able to leave your home until he returned with them. Nudity was fine in Egypt, but you weren't Egyptian. It was an uncommon practice to you.

You could physically feel your face flush with embarrassment, your chest tightening when he said your name in a soft voice. Unable to respond, you continued to strip yourself of the muddy garments, setting them carefully in a pile on a part of the floor that didn't have any carpet.

"Yogi?" He asked again. You whipped around to the curtain separating you from him, but found it vacant as always.

"Give me time," you said, your voice trembling slightly as you attempted to pull your pants off your hopping feet. "Taking off mud is hard."

"Oh, I know," he said, suddenly much closer to you, but still not breaching the curtain. "I'm a little less drunk right now so I wanted to try and pronounce your name, so... what was it again? Sorry."

"It is okay," you chuckled. "My name is Yogasundari.”

"Ah, right. Yogatsundera?"

"Yoga-soon-dahry."

"Yogasundari?"

"There you go," you said with a smile, happy to hear your full name from someone else after a long while of dealing with a horrid nickname.

With that, you pulled off the last of your clothes, removing the jewelry that had belonged to your family. Those you placed on your desk, but the clothes you folded best you could before timidly approaching the curtain leading to the funny Egyptian man. You couldn't quite remember his name, making your next actions all the more embarrassing, reaching forward to pull away the fabric.

"I finish this," you said, poking your head out, your extended hand beneath you.

Ahk moved to grab the pile, but stopped when he noticed your silhouette, now clear against the rushlight behind you. His breathing halted, caught in his chest. When he met your eye, he remembered himself, keeping his gaze above your shoulders as he took the clothes.

"You do return quick, yes?" You asked pointedly.

"I'll be back here tomorrow."

"Good. I have a work in the morning."

He held the clothes away from his body, but a giddiness ran through him that brought him to a quiet carelessness. His feet worked faster, an intrinsic smile on his face, and his home, the palace, fast approaching.

The whole of the evening accompanied him as he walked. In less than 12 hours he'd gotten the necklace back, 'beat' Panya in a drinking contest, flirted (albeit drunkenly) with an incredibly pretty brewer, and possibly even made friends with someone with entirely different life experiences from himself. The only drawback was that you were clearly not a fan of the royal family despite your liking of Egypt.

What had been his cover name?

Ak'anpu, if he recalled correctly through his drunken haze of a night. His name, and then Anubis', as Piye had called him.

Oh, Piye's gonna fucking love this, he thought as a grin spread across his face, his speed hastening as he approached the palace steps.

By morning the servants had finished washing your clothes, leaving them to hang in the laundry room till they were picked up. Ahkmen didn't notice it, as he was awakened by his servant Naguib, and his first waking thoughts were of unpleasantries against the bright morning sun.

Naguib pulled open the drapes shielding Ahk's room from the outside, leaving the long, intricate arches to cast the sun's glow directly onto Ahkmen's bed. He groaned, flipping over onto his stomach as he twisted in his sheets.

"Good morning, my Prince. You have school at Osiris' temple today, but nothing else. The Pharaoh instructed me to tell you that he is having dinner with the emissaries from Ebla when they arrive within the week. He wants you to attend," Naguib said as he opened Ahkmen's closet, pulling out the Prince's usual daily clothes.

"Is it optional?"

"Ask your father."

Once Ahkmen was safe and back in his clothes, he ran down to the laundry rooms, fetching your clothes and stopping by the kitchens for a tiger roll. He barely stopped to talk to any of the servants, moving on his way at a fast pace that sent him skipping down the stone pathways of Memphis. Ahkmen wasn't small by any means, but he had a way of moving about crowds, slinking through groups and keeping quick on his feet.

Piye managed to find him a couple turns before the temple, grabbing the crook of his arm and interrupting the Prince's stride.

"Ahk," they said as they turned him round.

"Piye!"

"How did it go last night?" They asked, picking back up into a walk.

"Wonderful. I think I remember most of it, too! I got my mother's necklace back, so I'll be gifting her that this evening, and I got to acquaint myself with that friend of yours, Yogi," he said with an animated expression, bright eyes and all smiles. "They're quite interesting."

"I see you have their clothes, too," Piye said, their eyes falling to the folded cloth in Ahkmen's hands. "What the hell did you two do last night?"

"Oh. Oh, no, I – they slipped in the mud and they don't really have access to good cleaning materials, and since it was technically my fault, I offered to have them cleaned," he explained.

"Awful nice of you."

"It's only right."

With help from his friend, Ahkmen made it over the boxes marking the entrance to your home without dirtying your clothes. Piye followed soon after, and the both of them entered your little tent, searching for a hard surface to knock on.

"Yogasundari?" Ahkmen called, feeling his face flush as he prayed he pronounced it right. "I've got your clothes."

"You have my cloths??" You said from behind one of the walls that Ahkmen remembered seeing you through.

"Right here," he said, reaching through the curtain to hand you the stack.

Weight was lifted off his hand and he withdrew, waiting a moment as you eagerly dressed yourself.

"Thank you many times!" You said, appearing with a wide smile that crinkled the flushed skin of your cheeks.

"Of course. We have to go now. I'll stop by soon!" He said as he turned to leave.

"Thank you," you said with a bow.

This time, he and Piye entered the temple through the correct door, walking through the long courtyard and observing the workers. They had been working on the garden for a while now, planting rows of seeds every day that would be fertilized with water, the Nile's silt, and of course, feces at times. At least the flowers everywhere blocked out the scent.

In the trees that towered above even the temple, birds cawed and sung at one another, pecking at the dates that fell on unfortunate people's heads. Piye managed to miss most of them, but Ahkmen was assaulted by one landing on his shoulder.

"Come now, can't be late two days in a row," Piye said, rushing Ahkmen along as the bell began to toll.

"And in the beginning of the year," Ahkmen added shakily as he began to run, coerced by Piye's long strides.

The two burst through the vacant doorframe before the eighth note, rushing to sit on the floor with the other two students. The priest entered moments later, eyeing both of them suspiciously, but remaining silent on the subject. Ahkmen let out a breath he didn't know he was hiding, reaching for the limestone tablets the class would be practicing on today.

Several minutes in he was already staring out the open door, watching the birds that pecked on the dried fruits littering the garden, fallen from the tops of trees and the undergrowth of bushes. However, it wasn't until several hours in that he caught sight of something that actually earned his attention.

You were near unrecognizable without your striking clothes, without the dim lighting he had already gotten so used to seeing you in. Reds, golds, and purples were replaced with the common warm white of servant skirts, allowing him to see the whole of your stomach and chest, as well as your legs that no longer hid within pants. Ahkmen hardly understood your insistence on wearing such warm clothes in Egyptian weather, and his ideas on the matter were only enforced when he felt blood rushing to his cheeks in a fiery blush.

For a long while you didn't notice him, and since consequences weren't part of the equation, Ahkmen stared free of guilt. You were positioned on your knees, rags and sponges in hand as you scrubbed the perfect marble floor of the outer temple halls. His jaw began to fall open, his eyes enraptured in the sunlight that shone off your dark skin, and was only dragged away by Piye manually shutting his mouth.

"Stop drooling. They won't come over just to clean your spit off the floor," Piye whispered in his ear as the priest's backs were turned.

"What?" Ahk whispered back, but went silent as his teachers turned back to the class.

"Now, what are the ways our Pharaoh's names written and how does the type of name change with the way it's written?"

"The Horus name is written in the box with the falcon on the edge?" One of the younger boys asked, his hand raised hesitantly in the air.

"No," said the priest with a tut.

An hour or so later he and his classmates were released for the midday break, rushing out of the enclosed classroom and into the long, stretching gardens of the temple's courtyard. Though the days were growing steadily cooler, flowers still bloomed with abandon in their ponds and bushes.

Piye began to part from Ahk as they approached the kitchens, causing Ahkmen to halt and grab their arm.

"Where are you going?"

"My father wants me to study runes in bones and teeth, so... I won't be back for the rest of the day. Tonight, though, I might have something planned for us," they said, shaking off his grip with a teasing wink.

Ahkmen watched as they jogged out of the temple, disappearing down the more common streets of Memphis. He frowned. Most of the other students his age were either too scared of him or didn't like him based purely off his status and his father's rule. It was things like that that had Ahk swearing up and down he would not be like his father––he would not be the reason his children couldn't make friends.

After gathering more food than he actually needed, he snuck out of the kitchens, speed-walking around as his eyes searched for the familiar stature of his new 'friend,' if he could call you that. How perfect it was that you worked here as well, and that he discovered that fact on a day of Piye's absence.

He searched the entirety of the temple's courtyard, classrooms, and worker rooms and couldn't find you. There was much of the temple left––about half unexplored––but those areas were blocked off. It was then he recalled you weren't from Memphis, and you might not understand the rules of priest-ly areas and citizen areas. He paused mid step, dread dropping his heart into his feet. Priests and oracles were not kind to those who disobeyed their direct rules of the holy.

Even with his royal status, he had to adhere to the same rules when it came to Gods. Sometimes even the Pharaoh was given such commands. But respect had never looked his way, and his desire to see you overcame his reluctance, stewing ideas in his head.

For a good few minutes he waited outside the entrance to the God's gardens, watching to see if anyone would try to stop him. In that time he pretended to eat, and after earning no strange looks, he ducked into the long hallway that would soon lead to the home of Osiris. Today, the massive oak doors were shut tight.

On either side of the hallway were gardens––to his left, a water garden, rife with lotus and reeds. To his right, a garden of date trees, lentils, lettuce, grapes, and pomegranates. The tall arches allowed him to easily see in, and the absence of a roof had sunlight raining down on the golden and green plants. What little light made it through the arches fell on his tanned skin, warming up the cool temple air, that had in times left him shivering.

Unfortunately, you weren't in either garden. He checked for a while, too, worried that he might've overlooked you behind tall plants or thick brush, but to no avail. All that remained was Osiris' home––the inner temple.

He had been in there before––rather recently, as well––but that did not mean he didn't fear it. He was quite clearly not where he was supposed to be, and his break wouldn't last much longer, as he'd spent much of the time making sure he wouldn't be caught. However, if he didn't find you, then it would be for nothing, and with that thought he continued forward.

To his surprise, when he just barely cracked open the doors, no one was inside. Not even the High Priest. The towering statue of Osiris stared blankly forward, the softest of smiles pulling at his perfect lips. Entirely still and cold.

He shut the doors slowly as he left, returning down the thin hallway with a furrowed brow. Perhaps you had left?

As he made to reenter the hall of gardens, a quiet hum reached his ears. He perked up almost immediately, eyes widening as he turned, staring at the temple's door as though it had spoke. He didn't dare move, but the song continued.

With steps of the utmost carefulness, he returned down the hall to the door. Pressing his ear against the wood, he heard nothing, and stood with yet another frown.

The voice had to be coming from somewhere. Further towards the courtyard it grew quieter, so it originated from within the holy ground, but where?

Ahkmen closed his eyes, breathing deeply as he listened attentively to the hum. Centering in on it, he began to follow, paying close attention to the volume. He reached with his hands as he walked blind, and came to a doorway he had never seen before when he opened his eyes. It was barely more than a crack in the meticulously painted wall, but large enough for a person to walk through. How he'd never noticed it before escaped him.

Echoes filled the massive room, entirely unlit with a stone roof above it. Ahkmen had to take a moment to let his eyes adjust, but when they did, he jumped back.

The room had to be larger than the whole of the courtyard, with walls that stretched too far to see the end of them. Pillars of a massive size filled the room, positioned with a graphed precision revered by other nations, each one too large for even Piye to wrap their arms around. And without fail, every single one of them was painted in hieroglyphs small as his fingernails paired to scenes of gory victory.

Music reverberated in his bones, painting the empty air that now thrummed with a thousand voices singing one after the other, yet still faint enough for Ahkmen to be unable to make out the words.

Without being able to track the volume of the humming, finding you would be much harder. This was, undoubtedly, you––your voice, speaking in words you knew well instead of the jargon of Egyptian. He tried his best, and in the end he found you scrubbing the floor mindlessly, staring up at the paintings above you as you murmured songs to yourself.

Hunger of cannibals...

those black-eyed pigs.

"Yogasundari?" Ahkmen said quietly from behind, hoping he wouldn't startle you.

You did jump a little, but you turned around with expectant, not fearful, eyes. Upon recognizing him, you smiled.

"Aganu!"

He thought to correct you, but realized it meant little considering it wasn't his real name anyway.

"Good to see you, as well," he chuckled. "What are you doing in here?"

"They ask me to clean, I clean, and it is quiet, this room. I like it here," you said, leaning back on your haunches as you returned to staring at the high pillar in front of you.

"They let you in here?"

"It is not hard to get in. You got in."

"No, I mean –" he took a moment to think of his words, "– they usually have one of the priests clean the holy places. They let a citizen clean in here?"

You paused, glancing away. "I did not ask," you admitted.

Ahkmen's eyes widened, reaching for you and pulling you to your feet.

"Then we need to get out of here before they punish both of us," he said, not pausing to let you gather your cleaning things before pulling you along.

"My cleans!"

He didn't stop running till he found the crack of an entrance, sneaking himself and you through to the slightly-less-illegal area of the holy gardens. Bright sunlight blinded him, and he squinted his eyes, shying away from the sudden stimulation. He kept the both of you moving though, till you reached the entrance of the hallway to the courtyard.

"You cannot go in such places," he said once he felt as though he had the peace of mind to address your stupidity. "I don't know what you've been taught, but when a priest tells you to do something, you do it. No questions asked."

"That is not a good thing," you said, frowning.

"It doesn't matter if it's good or bad. That's just how it is, and you and I are powerless to stop that. It's easiest to just listen," he said, growing softer as he noted your confusion.

"I..." you trailed off without ever having started.

"I'm sorry. I wish it could be different," he murmured, tucking stray hairs behind your ear.

"Why make all that beautiful if no one can see it?"

"It's for the Gods."

"I saw no Gods in that."

Ahkmen sighed.

"Just – do you understand me?" He asked, resting his hands on your shoulders to force you to look him in the eye.

"I think so," you said quietly.

"Thank you," he said in a rush of relief. "What were you singing in there?"

"A song," you said with a shrug, eyes falling to the ground. "My mother had sing to me. And.. one I heard, in the market."

"You have a very nice voice," he said, carefully watching for your reaction.

"Yes, she was nice," you nodded.

"That's not... never-mind. Here, I brought some food for you," he said as he handed you one of the sweetbreads.

Instantly your face lit up, a toothy grin matching your bright eyes.

"Thank you!" You said, taking and eagerly biting into it. "You are very good."

He chuckled, mumbling a thank-you through his own small smile.

"You know, you didn't tell me you work here. I go to school here," he said, pointing behind his shoulder to the classroom he would soon be returning to.

"That is funny," you said through a mouthful of food.

Your hunger reminded him of his own, and he returned to his own loaf.

"I'm glad you're here. Usually I only talk to Piye, and they can get rather busy sometimes. Do you come every day?"

"Most days. There are days they tell me not to work, no one is here but priests. But I am told to leave at a 'midday'. So I will leave soon, I think," you said, already finishing up your bread. "I go to my house and do my work."

"Your beers and such?"

"Yes!" You said. "My brews, they give me food like the priest. But from market adults."

"Do you –"

Ahkmen had begun to say something, but was interrupted by the tolling of a bell that called him back to class. He sighed, his shoulders falling as responsibility once more came to the forefront of his mind.

"I must go. Can I come visit later today?" He asked, already beginning to walk away.

"Of course! Come buy lots of beer!" You called with a singing laugh.

By eveningtime, Ahkmen's fantasies of you had reached an all-time high, daydreaming about how you would react if he had no qualms of anxiety holding him back. What you would do if he had the courage to pull you into him and kiss you, dipping you as your songs echoed in the silent, might halls of pillars reaching for the clouds.

Nothing the priests said was retained by his fog-heavy mind. The bell rang, startling the Prince, making him move for the first time in hours. He shoved his materials away haphazardly, leaving before any of his classmates and heading straight for your alley.

The sun was at its' low height above the western mountains, casting the shadows of tall graves past the river and onto the shore of the living. Red and gold bathed the land, painted his skin into a bronze, which deepened with a blush as he scaled the wooden crates. Already your hidden home had turned to a sort of oasis, entirely separate from his city.

Myrrh, which was the priest's incense of choice during the midday ceremonies, once again met his senses, swirling round his head as he entered the tent.

"Yogasundari?"

"Wait a bit, I am there in a bit of time," you said from behind one of the walls.

Clattering followed by two voices then came, but Ahkmen recalled that this was your business, and left you to it for the time being.

A few minutes later, you called him into the backroom without coming to see him.

"... are you sure?" He asked. To his knowledge, your customers hadn't left.

"Yes, it is good," you said, failing to elaborate further.

Ahk bit the inside of his cheek, reaching forward to pull away the cloth walls. Warm light came from a wall further on down, and when he pulled it away, the yellow light of fire burst in the tent, safe in an entirely-stone enclosing. A clearly handmade mechanism allowed you to hang four pots over the fire, two of which you tended to at the current moment.

Beside you, two familiar faces stood against one of the walls, quietly discussing with one another. His stare caught Unas' attention, who motioned to Panya that Ahkmen was behind her. She turned, scowling when she saw him.

"Why are you here?" She asked with crossed arms.

"I could ask you the same thing," he said, his mood suddenly soured.

"We're here for expertise on an ore I found in the junkyard," Unas explained with a small smile.

He and Unas weren't exactly friends, but they'd always held respect for each other. Ahkmen admired his ingenuity. Junkyards, however, were not the Prince's scene.

"Fun. I'm just here to get drunk," Ahk chuckled, sitting down on the dirt floor with his back pressed against the stone wall.

The number of colorful fabrics in this room were contained to only the entrance, and from the voices surrounding him, he correctly assumed that the 'walls' that made up this room were simply the closely-built walls of many homes all facing away from the one center point. A makeshift wooden roof had been placed above him, mostly blocking out the dying sun's light.

"I work with many rocks," you murmured, concentrated entirely on the stone in your hand, "but this is not rock. It is too pure. You found this in a.. a... what did you name it?"

"Junkyard?"

"Yes, that," you said, snapping your fingers. "This is very different. Others can come looking for it."

"So it's worth something?"

"I do not know. It is just pure, and that is not normal," you said as you handed it back to them. "I can try hard to name it, but it could be long of time."

"Hmm," Unas said, looking to Panya to communicate with her silently.

"Keep it," Panya said. "If we need it, we'll come back for it, but just concentrate on figuring out what it is."

"I will find it," you assured them with a small bow.

Panya and Unas left a few minutes later after having been served an older batch of beer that had sat to ferment. The boiling pots of beer hung over the fire were not yet ready, even if they smelled good, so Ahkmen settled on one of your specialties; a more alcoholic, sweeter beer.

Most of the beer Ahkmen had in his lifetime was for simple nutrition, thick and quite clearly tasting of sweetbread. At rare times, the Pharaoh would bring in more alcoholic beer, an event saved mainly for festivals where beer was cheaper than distributing wine.

Your brew, though––the sweet flavor of wine, an alcoholic content higher than both, for the price of a regular mug of beer. Ahkmen returned to one of the carpeted rooms, finding himself more comfortable surrounded by your purple silks, pillows and blankets cast beneath his feet. There he sat at your table, content to sip at his drink.

A moment or two later you returned to him, straightening out your long clothes before taking a seat across from him. You folded your hands neatly on the table.

"How long have you been working at Osiris' temple?" Ahkmen asked, setting his cup down on the table.

"I found it not long ago. My work is not much known, so I get little money, little food. So more work lets me eat, keep safe in the city," you explained, eyes cast to the side as you thought through your translations.

"Do you like working there?"

"I do not like the clothes they give me," you said, lips twisting into a pout. "They are not enough."

Ahkmen chuckled, though he hadn't meant to, and sighed to calm the delight in his chest.

"As long as you listen to the priests, you'll be alright," he said as he took another swallow from his cup.

"Have you something eaten today?" You asked, moving to stand.

"Yes. Haven't had dinner, if that's relevant," he said.

"I have slow night this night. Come and make food with me," you said as you offered your hand.

He glanced to his cup, and then to your outstretched hand. There was no option.

Ahkmen found himself in your kitchen, where he had been several minutes earlier, except now the brews of the day had been set to cool in their jars, leaving the fire open for other uses. Your choice ingredients weren't unfamiliar to him, but your method of cooking them was.

In most kitchens Ahkmen visited, pans of vegetables were fried over smaller flames, different oils and spices flavoring them. Slabs or slices of meat were cooked in a similar fashion. Your style consisted mainly of throwing every ingredient into your largest pot and letting it cook in its' own stew. You poured a sort of gravy over it, mixing the vegetables, meats, and other such things.

"You like bread in soup?" You asked, pulling a large knife out of its' storage on your counter.

"Sounds good," he said with a shrug. He'd never tried, but it couldn't be that different from beer.

You took a loaf out from underneath a white square of cloth, setting it on a board as you began to cut into it.

"May I help?" He asked upon realizing this was a task he actually could complete.

"Uh," you looked to him, then back to the bread and knife, "okay. Make in small, good?"

"Of course," he said, taking the knife and positioning it.

He did his very best, concentrating far more than was actually necessary, which you giggled from. You tried to hide it, and though he did spot it he appreciated the effort.

You went to chopping more vegetables, cutting lettuce in long slices that acted like noodles as you poured them in from your cutting board. When Ahk's board got overcrowded with cubes of bread, he set the loaf to the side, sliding the pieces in. He looked to you, stared at you as you worked diligently. The slip-up nearly cost his left middle finger.

His hands shook when he realized his mistake, but he couldn't stop smiling. Not till the both of you finished, and you returned to your spot in front of the fire, slowly mixing the concoction.

"You must do this a lot," Ahkmen said as he sat down on the cold floor.

"What do you say?"

"You do this a lot. Mixing pots over fire."

"Oh. Yes, I... I do. My potions, my beer, and my food can all be in this pot," you said, clanking the edge of it with your spoon. "I think... it is good. I like this moving. I can get tired, but it is one thing I know. We eat now."

It took a moment for his brain to process what you'd said, but he soon jumped to his feet, bringing down two bowls from a higher shelf. You thanked him quietly, asking him to hold them as you filled them up. The warm steam of stew drifted up towards his face, causing his mouth to water before he could even eat.

The two of you returned to the carpeted rooms, seating yourselves on the floor near to one another.

"Have you given mother your necklace?" You asked as you waited for the soup to cool to a bearable temperature.

"Not yet. I said I'd do it this evening, so I'll do it once I leave," he said, attempting to sip at his bowl, only to be burned.

"You eat fast then! You were very drunk for her," you laughed, rocking backwards in your seat.

"You say that like it's a bad thing," Ahk said, grinning pleased when you giggle in response.

"I see you that night, Aganu. You were sick drunk."

"If I acted strangely it was only because you're incredibly pretty," he said, blowing on the bowl of stew before sipping it this time. It helped, however minute.

"I get you drunk again, put you out on streets to walk alone," you threatened with a raised brow. "You still be strangely."

"Don't forget stupid."

"Haha," you leaned forward, pinching his cheek, "funny Egyptian man."

The sun disappeared earlier than usual, as was customary for the cooler months, and the darkness that followed left Ahkmen enraptured in your games. Thought of his mother, of Piye, and of his father faded into you, paying close attention as you described the rules of your drinking games, with which you had unwittingly kept Ahkmen in your home.

His vision had already started to go hazy, blurred by what beer he had drank for fun hours ago. Through that fuzz he saw two large cups and two smaller ones, the smaller filled with beer, and the larger empty. Two thin sticks were balanced in a row on each large cup.

"Now – now put cup on – on cup," you said, your hands swaying as you went to grab the smaller glass. "Veerryyyyy... kavanyamehka."

Ahkmen did his best to copy, and with great concentration, succeeded.

"We do this talk," you said as you curled your fingers into fists, setting them on the edge of the table. "Do this bang-bang. And.. then, it falls, in big cup. We do again and again an' again and... again. Good?"

"Okay," said Ahkmen, who had a very weak grasp on what you just explained.

He copied your fists, and when you spoke, he followed in loud mumbles, caught in the adrenaline you'd suddenly built. In time with your garbled speech, you banged your fists against the table, and the cups began to tremble on the two twigs.

"Enka kapo ai'il kuttika ventu nam, muta'lilvila matten'atai, en tontaiyl uravem en tanllyial entovuetem, nan 'rrakemen viri naiuta ventaum!"

The louder you got, the more incomprehensible you grew, till Ahkmen was assured you weren't even speaking coherently in your home language. Ever dutiful, he matched your energy till his heart pounded and his cup fell into the larger cup. You then let out a shout, throwing your hands into the air.

"You fail!" You laughed. "Funny man."

"We," he reached into his cup and pulled the smaller cup out, "are doing – going again. I actually understand it this time! So you are finished."

You went a second time, speaking in tongues and yelling raucously when you lost, your own laugh fading into the background as Ahkmen spoke.

"I told you!" He snorted, falling back in his cushioned seat.

Three more rounds, in which there were varied successes and losses, and you paused for the best part––drinking the strange mix of different types of beers and alcohols made from the fallen cups. You linked arms, shooting back your drinks as quick as you could.

The flavors you created for your beers mixed wonderfully together, but Ahkmen was too far gone to notice any of his senses except the ones that related to you. His sight, never leaving you, the sound of your voice, the sensation of your uncommon touch. His heart pounded furiously even without him shouting.

There were few people he could legitimately claim he enjoyed getting drunk with, which made his fondness for you all the more special. Already he knew you would be a fantastic drinking buddy.

Hours that felt like minutes passed, and with both of you hidden away from the sky, you had no way of knowing it was far past midnight by the time exhaustion trickled into your body. Before you knew it, you were lying down on your back next to Ahkmen, staring silently at the detailed ceiling, your hands folded neatly on your stomach.

"I think I have not made me better because I am scared I will become a person who is not the person that my parents knew," you said in a voice that croaked.

"There will always be a part of you that is that person who knew your parents," Ahkmen said softly, turning to face you as you stared up. "And you'll always have them with you in your memories."

"But I change, and if my parents are in me, they change too? Then, they are not my parents. They are changed to someone else. I changed them."

"Everything changes. If they were alive, they would have changed over the years eventually. That's one of life's simple natures," he said.

You fell silent.

"I miss them."

Your cat meowed softly as it jumped up to your seats, walking up over your chest to face you directly. You raised a tired hand, petting the hairless skin, still staring at the ceiling.

"How long have they been gone?"

"Years," you said as you raised up your fingers to indicate 'two'. "I do not know they are dead... but I see no words from them."

This time Ahkmen went quiet.

"Do you like learning about things?" He asked when an idea popped into his head.

"Why have you ask this?"

"I like learning about things. It's a distraction, of sorts," he said, fidgeting with his fingers.

"... alright. Better than sitting," you said, grunting as you attempted to rise to your feet.

Ahkmen stood before you did, chuckling as he noted you quietly trying to convince your cat to get off you.

"You do not sleeping forever," you cooed, bopping her nose gently with your fingertip. "I will come back."

Eventually, the warm lights of your home made way for the evening chill, bathing you in darkness halted only by the presence of a half-full moon. This late into the night––or early in the morning––near no one was awake, and if they were, they were contained mainly to their bedrooms within the walls of their homes. It left the streets and walkways vacant as you wandered aimlessly at Ahkmen's side.

Though most everywhere was quiet and unoccupied, there were houses in which lights had been lit, visible through windows that allowed it to pour out onto the ground outside. Those little spots of light illuminated your path, allowing you to skip over rocks that you would've otherwise tripped over.

"Are you religious, Yogasundari?" Ahkmen asked, his hands folded behind his back as he strolled with you.

"A what?"

"Do you believe in Gods, in a life after death," he clarified.

"My family is," you said, kicking a pebble. "They talk to this god, Shiva Pashupati. I am – my name, it is from the Bandha, which – it is to sit in a way as He makes."

"Shiva..."

"Pashupati."

"Right. What do you ask of him? If you do ask anything," he said, glancing between you and the path ahead.

"Food, no danger, you know," you said with a shrug. "I do not know a lot. My parents did not speak about my home a lot. I know... there is more Gods, but I know no names."

"We have many Gods as well. They lead us into a happy afterlife. Has anyone ever told you about who we worship?"

"No, but I want to know."

"For starters, that temple you work at––it's the home of Osiris, who is the ruler of the underworld, where we go when we die. He is a God of power, righteousness, and death. People here are allowed to choose which Gods they want to worship at any given time, but many choose favorites. For example, I am a devotee of Khonsu and Ptah."

The river before you grew nearer till you stood at the bank's edge, the edge of your toes just barely touching the water. You hardly noticed where the both of you were walking, but you recognized this spot, and identified it as the place Ahkmen had washed up the other day.

"Khonsu... and Ptah," you said in deep concentration as Ahkmen pulled you up onto the wooden docks. "What do they do?"

"Khonsu is a God of the moon, of time, and can extend or shorten the lifespans of anyone he meets. Ptah is a creator-god, so he creates many things, like you do," he said, his hand falling from yours as he stopped at the edge of the dock. "He is a blacksmith of sorts."

Ahkmen bent down, kneeling with one knee on the wood and the other raised to his chest. From there he pulled at the rope keeping a canoe in place, reaching forward to steady the boat when it came loose, now slave to the soft currents of the river.

No words were exchanged as he once more took your hand, helping you into the canoe. You grabbed the oars so as to balance yourself, even though it didn't help in the slightest, and took your seat on the bow of the small boat. Ahkmen soon followed, sitting down across from you. He took the oars and began to row slowly away from the shore.

"The Nile is a beautiful thing that brings to us life through the power of the God Hapi, who controls the floods that entail both death and revitalization. But, if you sail straight across, we find our earthly version of the underworld," he said, and the few words you could understand seemed to only confuse you.

"I am not sure I –"

"The Eastern bank is for the living," he said, gesturing to the city behind him. "The Western is where the dead lie forever. It is where the sun casts its' final rays before dying."

"Ohhh," you said with a wide jaw, looking out over his shoulder to the banks ahead of you.

You had, for a time, wondered why the other shore seemed deserted while the one you occupied was so lively. You had also wondered why there were massive pyramids shining a stark white against the warm sand and blossoming trees, their heights a monument of human achievement, jutting out of the desert to remind all who watched that there was greater power than they will ever behold.

"The pyramids out there," Ahk paused to look behind him before returning to you and rowing, "they're tombs. Resting places of great Pharaohs who came before us."

"Those are for one person?!" You asked with wide, shocked eyes.

"Each one is built for one person, yes," he chuckled. "Generally we're not allowed to go here unless it is for prayer, but I don't think anyone will ask questions this late at night."

Crickets and frogs croaked from the safety of bog-like swarms of lilypads, welcoming you loudly to the land of the dead within the land of the living. Ahkmen jumped out of the boat, sullying his sandals and skirt in muddy water as he traipsed through the undergrowth, bringing the stern of the ship to rest fully on the unmoving shore.

Once he finished that, he took your hand, helping you out of the canoe and onto dry land. You thanked him quietly, and in turn led him out of the water.

The distant pyramids had been a wonder to you, but you never gave them much thought. You didn't know what they were used for, if anything, and you had no idea why, or even how, they were built. Now the alabaster pikes remained shadows against a star-lit sky, a painting of a million stars illuminating nothing more than a silhouette of the once glittering pyramids. Your breath caught in your throat as you stared up. They were much taller than you'd originally thought.

"A good long while ago, there was a Pharaoh by the name of Djoser, and he was the first to build any sort of pyramid. Before him, the graves of Pharaohs remained simple mastabas. I look up to Djoser quite a lot... him and his vizier, of course. Imhotep. He was the one who did the most work," Ahkmen rambled as the two of you continued forward, nearing the monuments.

"... how did you.. make these?" You asked in an awestruck voice, murmuring in the presence of great beasts.

"Many years," he said, continuing on. "And much devotion."

Ahkmen went on to explain in great detail what the pyramids contained––their history, their wealth in both understanding the ancestors, as well as the wealth of treasure hidden beneath what seemed like miles of stone. He told you of the different rooms within, where offerings were still placed to this day.

Given the overwhelming size of the pyramids, it took longer than you imagined to get to the end of the long line, where the step pyramid sat. Ahkmen began to approach the tomb, but halted when he noticed you weren't at his side. Turning round, he found you stuck in place, your hands raised anxiously to your chest as you stared at the pyramid.

"Yogi?"

Nothing.

"Yogasundari, are you alright?" He tried, this time returning to you and gently pulling your hands apart, hoping to stop your straining fidgets.

"This is... a King," you said in a quiet voice, the glaze in your eyes slowly disappearing as you came to focus on him.

"Well, yes," he said with a frown. "We do have those, you know."

"Sorry, I... sorry," you murmured, and as Ahk's grip on you fell, you walked on past him towards the tomb.

"Wait," he reached for your wrist, turning you around, "are you alright?"

He had not asked you to apologize for any behavior––he had asked you if you felt okay, and that was the answer he sought.

"I am good," you assured him with a chuckle. "I am thinking on Kings and my family. I do not want to... make dirty of your Kings, but it is hard to think of Kings and to not think of family."

"Oh, don't worry about that," he said, taking your hands once more. "We're actually going to be desecrating holy ground so it's alright to say fuck you to some Kings."

Out of the two options he gave you, you decided to enter the tomb, opposed to scaling the sheen surface of polished limestone. Moonlight from a half-moon reflected off that clear stone, a light that faded away as Ahkmen led you into the earth.

Staircases upon hallways upon staircases led deep into the ground, lined with stray dust and paintings of stories Ahkmen hardly understood, let alone you. The darkness soon came to a high, leaving you in a pitch-black darkness too thick to even see each other. You stumbled forward, bumping your head on Ahk's shoulder, and letting out a small cry.

"You alright?" He said, offering his hand before remembering you would not be able to see.

"I am okay," you said, dirt and sand shuffling as you made your way back to your feet. "We need light."

"We'll find a torch soon, we can take that," Ahkmen said.

As predicted, a few steps forward with his hand running along the wall, and he found the end of a burnt out torch. At the next crossroads there would be a vat of oil, with which he could relight it.

"When the Pharaoh, Djoser, built this place," Ahkmen said as he lit the torch, holding it up to see the hieroglyphs above your heads, "he built it with temples outside, courtyards... gardens and houses. It was a city all for his death. And none of it was used until he died. All his life he built this pyramid, and never reaped the benefits."

"Why?" You asked, looking up from Djoser to him.

"It's a purpose in life. At least, that's how I see it," he said, his voice growing quieter. "I think that it is our purpose to leave this world better than when we came into it. This was simply his way of doing it."

"How will you doing it?"

"... I don't know," he murmured after a moment of silence.

His eyes fell to you, meeting your gaze as you simultaneously looked up with a special sort of adoration in the reflection of your eyes. Time paused; his heartbeat, his breath, the flame in his hand. You still waited expectantly.

"I will find my purpose someday," he said. "I'm still young."

"You will say that to the day you die."

The long hallways were much more entertaining with your sight returning, allowing you to scan and absorb the art painted on every surface. It was hard to tell who was who, but those in power were always clearly marked, and those below them would always tremble by their might. You bit the inside of your cheek, tearing your eyes away from the gory scene and following Ahkmen onwards.

"Here we reach the blue chambers," Ahkmen said, his echoing voice calling your attention away from the dark hallway walls.

You looked ahead to him, past him, to the blue strokes of paint shrouding the ceiling in midnight and stars. Your mouth fell open as you looked straight up.

A woman's body was stretched across the center plane of the room, her toes at the door and hands at the opposite end. Her skin was a deep blue, peppered with yellow, five-pointed stars. Massive jars and pots neatly filled the corners of the room, half-buried in dust, the paint still remaining on the surface. Besides that, the room remained empty, cobwebs filling the space, and dissipating wherever Ahkmen held his torch.

From here, there were two directions to choose from; left and right. Painted reeds lined the entrances, captioned by the hieroglyphs far above your head.

"Down that way is the burial vault," Ahkmen said, pointing down to the left, "and down that way is the King's apartment."

"Why would you need a apartment in a death home?"

Ahk snorted, "a tomb, you mean. It's to be used in death. Everything you are buried with comes with you in the afterlife, so those with great riches build homes they want, treasures they want to carry forever. It's a portable home."

"Hmm," you said in a detached tone, wide eyes turning back to the painted walls. "There is so much turns. I do not know how we get out."

"Ah, the layout of the pyramids remains a mystery to all but me," he said with a wide, cocky grin, throwing his arm over your shoulders. "I will lead us safely onwards."

You giggled, covering your mouth as you did. It disappointed him slightly not to see your smile, but he kept to his word, and led you down to the Pharaoh's 'apartments'. He rehearsed the correct path to the living areas, and by the time he came to the split path he recalled which turn to take.

He moved to continue quickly on, but you paused, his arm falling from your shoulders as you stood in place. That quickly caught his attention, and he returned to you.

You were staring at the wall with a furrowed brow, eyes searching the large blue tiles.

"Faience," he told you, sneaking up from behind. You jumped slightly, relaxing when you realized it was him.

"It is beautiful."

"It's meant to look like the palace," he said, easily recalling much of his studies on Imhotep's pyramid. "Mimicks the reed mats and such."

Several passageways and long, detailed hallways later, the two of you arrived in a room stacked with dark, elegant cabinets filled with everything from clothes to chairs. Red and reed carpets covered the floor, broken after their long-lived lives. As with many of the rooms and halls you'd already seen, the room was filled with vases and jars of all sizes, containing everything from honey to bits of unprocessed stone.

Being a home of sorts for the royal family from years ago, it contained a number of comfortable chairs, as well as detailed carpets both hung and set on the ground. Spiderwebs had grown over the edges, crowding the corners of the room with dusty string.

"As long as you know the paths of the pyramids, they can be a good place to find solitude. Sometimes I enjoy studying here," he said, craning his neck to look at the hieroglyphs carved onto the ceiling.

"You do work a lot, I think," you said, your shuffling feet slowly moving to the end of the room.

"Perhaps so. But you cannot claim that without acknowledging you work quite a lot, as well," he said with a smile. His amusement grew when you just nodded, pretending to understand what he had just said.

For the remainder of the evening, Ahkmen set to what he had been planning all along––distracting you from your dissipating drunken haze, as well as from the thought of your parents. Studying and researching had always done well to keep his own mind off things, so he offered the same opportunity for you.

A chart of the night sky hung above the frame of a bed, numerous blankets and pillows cast haphazardly aside upon it. You were reluctant to put any more weight on it, but Ahkmen assured you it would be fine, and pushed you to lie down, staring up at the ceiling.

"Do you see the brightest star?" He asked, climbing over you to sit on your hips, his hands on your waist.

"To that way?" You asked in return, gesturing to the right with your chin.

"Mhm. Her name is Sopdet. When she rises in the night sky in the summer, she brings with her the floods of the Nile," he said softly, creeping closer still, "and the fertility of the land. She is married to Sah, who holds yet another place in the sky. When Pharaohs die... that is where they go."

"What does Sah do?"

"He is one of the largest constellations," he said, a grin forming across his face. Ahkmen began to creep up your body, using his fingers like claws as he gripped you. "He is eaten in the morning and spit out at night––and he rises into the sky to protect his wife."

You giggled, blushing from the intense overacting of the man pinning you to the old bed.

"He is a God who sails the skies. He navigates the stars in a papyrus skiff, and the old Pharaoh's souls go with him. It is a death I yearn for," Ahkmen said, his energy suddenly cooling, his hands less grasping you and more holding you.

"I like to see the stars now. You show where they are, yes?" You asked, searching his eyes as you looked up.

Behind the faint halo of his face, the soft skin reflecting the dying light of the torch, stars painted in gold on a midnight canvas surrounded him. It was him, the life in his eyes against the eternity of the sky––distant, and far enough to only be found in the heart.

"Of course," he said with a smile, crinkling and blushing around his grey eyes.

#ahkmenrah x reader #Ahkmenrah #Night at the Museum #rami malek #rami malek character #ahkmenrah x male reader #ahkmenrah x female reader

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thestraggletag · 3 years

Text

Roll for Initiative, a Rumbelle D&D Fic

Summary: Tales of the Enchanted Forest was the hottest online D&D game, in part for its charismatic players, in part for the twisted turns of the DM's mind and in part because of the outrageous chemistry between its greatest OTP, the party's beautiful bard and the Dark One, an anti-hero side-character who is there to provide information and uncomfortable levels of UST. Mr Gold thinks it's a harmless flirtation that could never become anything else, just like his silly little crush on the town librarian, Belle French.

He's wrong.

Rating: Explicit.

Author’s Note: Surprise, @argoslight, it is I, your Gifter! Sorry to make you wait till near the end but I just had way more banter to write in me than I thought. I hope you enjoy your gift. I’m so sorry to not be able to add more D&D elements but since I don’t play I don’t have a lot of idea of what could be done. Also I apologise for any mistakes! And thanks so much to @little-inkstone for her help and D&D knowledge.

The castle was quiet when she entered, her steps echoing against the stone. It was gloomy inside, curtains obscured and decor sparse and sombre, the castle living up to its name. But there were flowers on the table, moon lilies, her favourite flower. They bloomed only in the Eastern Mountains past the Old Wall, but she had long since suspected he grew some on one of his enchanted hothouses, with the excuse of using them for potions.

“Where’s the rest of your pretty little troop of do-gooders, dearie?”

The voice came out of nowhere, echoing around the empty halls of the castle. Thankfully she did not need directions, knowing exactly when to turn and where to go. Soon she found herself in a vast room, with a table on the centre and curios filled with oddities and the like. Some others were displayed on pedestals, including a rather fearsome sword and a nasty-looking crown made of thorns. None of the artefacts were what she sought, but she was not there to bargain for an item, but rather for information.

“Off on their own quests, taking care of other things that need doing.”

The voice tsked, seeming not to approve.

“They let you enter the lair of the beast alone? Some heroes.”

The woman lowered the hood of her cloak and walked towards the unlit chimney. Immediately a fire blazed to life, as if the castle itself was trying to cater to her comfort. The fire provided much-needed light as well, revealing the profile of a man in the shadows. Or something that looked like a man, at least, if not for the reflective scales that covered his body and its strange eyes: gold irises around catlike pupils.

“I asked to come alone. I felt like we could talk more openly this way.”

She removed her cloak, ostensibly to drape it across a chair near the fire and let it dry. The creature, however, seemed to read more into the gesture, tsking again.

“You come here all alone, a pretty little lamb, and take off the only real bit of protection you have. Reckless, dearie, most reckless.”

The creature stood up, walking slowly towards the light, revealing more of its form as it approached her. Leather pants and a long, reptilian-looking vest and coat. It wasn’t particularly tall but power emanated from it in suffocating waves. She closed her eyes, finding his cloying presence strangely comforting. Then again, she had always been odd.

“Once again your pitiful little party of friends needs my help. How they weigh you down, Beauty.”

He stepped fully into the light then, revealing a being more creature than man, the reptilian skin and claws as off-putting as his unnatural eyes. She should’ve taken a step back, should’ve gone for her blade or the dagger tucked into her left boot, but she didn’t. As much as she knew she shouldn't, she felt at ease in his presence. Well, perhaps not quite. She certainly felt a strange sort of anxiousness in his presence, a fluttery sort of feeling that she attributed to being particularly attuned to his magic. None of the other members of her party felt that way. If anything, he repulsed them, which wasn’t something she could understand. To her he was… magnetic.

“Are you in the mood for dealing or not? I can trade for information.”

He snorted.

“With what? Your little band of misfits is dirt poor. That idiotic paladin of yours ruined your last mission. You really should think about ditching the man. All brawn, no brains. At least your rogue is a smart woman.”

His gaze left her briefly, running down the length of her clothing: sturdy black boots, a nicely-cut dress that stopped around the knees and a sturdy belt with a few pockets for her spells. But the clothing, as well-made as it was, was dated, old. Looked worn and was signed and stained in places, and it left a lot of her frail human skin exposed. She had not been able to afford an upgrade in a while, preferring to spend her coin in what could benefit the group.

His moue of distaste disappeared once his eyes fell on her cloak. Well, his cloak, since he had been the one to make it. It was a lovely thing in varied shades of green, shot through with golden thread, his trademark. She had bought it off him a long time ago, a simple thing to keep her warm during cold nights and dry when it rained. Miraculously, though, it also did not sustain damage, looking exactly the same as when she had first put it on.

“I’m glad at least my protection is serving you well.”

He ran a claw along the seams of the cloak, making it glitter, like to like, magic calling for its own. He looked smug, as if pleased she was wearing something he had made.

“It does more than we bargained for. I’ve been blasted with magic strong enough to burn through most fabric but it has not even frayed. How strange of you, Rumplestiltskin, to lose out on a deal.”

He shivered when she said his name, walking behind her to the safety of the shadow she cast next to the fire.

“Can’t help it if my magic is just that powerful, my dear. I’m glad you are a happy customer. Always thought that cloak was a nice bit of magic. Can’t fault you for always wearing it.”

She felt him close in on her from behind, to the point that it almost felt like they were touching.

“It smells like you. That’s why I wear it all the time.”

The noise he made behind her was inhuman, a cross between a whimper and a growl. His claws scrapped against the back of her dress, the feeling muted by her stays, but she could feel his breath against the back of her neck and that alone was-

“Hey, this is a decent stream! Keep it PG for the kids, you weirdos.”

“Damn it, Grumpy, I wanted to see how long it would take them to snap out of it!”

“Sorry, Snow, but I ate a big dinner and I aim to keep it down.”

The messages in the chatroom wheezed by, mostly disgruntled complaints about their OTP never catching a break. The other participants in the stream were mostly silent, their mics muted likely to hide the amused snickers. There was no video feed on any of the members of the party, all of them represented instead by artwork to preserve their anonymity. Once upon a time that had been a fanciful choice, and perhaps a way to stay safe when interacting with strangers on the internet. Now it was mostly to keep their private lives from being overtaken by the popularity of their stream. “Tales of the Enchanted Forest” was shaping up to be one of the hottest D&D online streaming shows, already on its third campaign and counting.

“Beauty is just trying to get us some answers, Grumpy. We can’t just go stumbling about hoping to run into some fairy wand by chance.”

“Oh, it’s that what the kids are calling it these days?”

“Enough! Can we get back to the campaign already? It took me weeks to plan and it kinda hinges a bit on the Dark One helping, which needs to happen today.”

“Fine by me, dearie, if the dwarf can curtail his temper.”

The party was composed of five characters, a paladin, a cleric, a bard, a rogue and a thief, which along with the Dungeon Master made up the regular cast of every weekly stream. But given the popularity of the show, and the amount of time they had been playing, they had managed to amass a good amount of side-characters, guests invited every now and then to help the campaign move along and keep the interest of the audience. And by far the most popular of those guests was the Dark One, a wizard of unknown lineage and tremendous power that served both as an antagonist and a pseudo-ally depending on the situation.

His presence was likely the reason why the livestream’s numbers looked so robust. He had amassed quite a fanbase, due in part to the commitment the player put on the character (the voice-acting was above and beyond what anyone could’ve expected from an amateur performer, and the backstory was quite complex, revealed in bits and pieces fans had meticulously assembled together) and in part to the chemistry he had managed to develop with the group’s bard, a half-human named Beauty.

“Okay, let’s all go back to what we were doing.” The DM’s voice was authoritative, though also more than a bit pissed off. “Okay, Beauty, you were about to try and cajole the Dark One to sell you the information you needed in return for a vial of water from Lake Nostos. Though the water is valuable, it’s not guaranteed to be enough to tempt the wizard. You have to roll at least a 13 in persuasion to make the trade. Roll when you’re ready.”

...

Rumford Gold stretched within the confines of the small backroom of his shop, where he had his computer stuff set up. Initially he’d bought the computer to better conduct his online business. His laptop at home wasn’t cutting it and it was better to photograph the antiques, update the website and handle the deliveries from his place of business. He had bought a good camera, some light fixtures and, on a whim, a microphone, for instances where he might need to virtually communicate with clients. It was something that was happening more and more, especially because a lot of his clientele was European. The internet had truly turned his antiquing- more of a hobby than a profession originally- into a profitable business.

He had gotten into watching D&D while waiting late at night for a client to become available in Austria. He had played as a lad, one of the few happy moments he could remember from his childhood in Glasgow, but had given it up once he had met Milah. And after they were over he had been too involved in making something of himself to remember past childhood enjoyments. But apparently D&D had evolved with the times and he had gotten into the habit of searching for and watching online D&D campaigns in his spare time. From that to actually being a side-character in one of them took almost no time. It was frightfully easy to go back to that frame of mind of playing make-believe, only now he had a distaste for the clean-cut heroic types and more of an affinity for the morally-grey, shady characters.

So he had auditioned for the role of evil-wizard when there had been an opening for a side-character in his favourite D&D stream, The Enchanted Forest. And though the DM had written what he considered to be a very flat, uninteresting character, he had been able to give it his own spin. He knew the DM hated him for it, hated when he deviated from what was expected of him, but people loved him. It was half the fun, pissing the DM off.

The other half, he had to admit, was Beauty. The one with the brains in the group, clearly, a half-human, half-fairy bard with an uncanny ability to think ahead, and arm herself with knowledge. Most of the other members of her party were more apt to try and decapitate something than negotiate with it, or even befriend it. Beauty prided herself on more of a gentle approach, which sometimes got her treated as the “fragile” one. He thought it just made her all the more interesting.

Their flirting had just kinda happened. He was half into it before he realised it had begun at all and by the time he had grown conscious- and self-conscious- of it fans were lapping it up and loving it. Even the DM, as loath as he was to admit it, found the banter engaging, even as if stole the spotlight from his story and where he wanted it to go. So every now and then he got invited into a stream, sometimes to interact with the whole party and sometimes, like the session he had just finished, to speak only to Beauty. And what was supposed to be a brief conversation before the party moved to greener pastures became a whole session, with the chatroom full of engagement and the view count off the charts.

But the DM had had a short tolerance span tonight, and had nipped things in the bud much sooner than usual. He felt… unfulfilled. Unsatisfied. Itchy, almost, in a way. So he was more than happy when he received an email from Beauty, who seemed to share his dislike of how the session had played out. They had started doing that more often, sharing emails after a session, even when he did not participate in it. It was harmless, he thought. Just an innocent online flirtation that could never realistically turn into anything. Not that his more in-person romantic overtures could ever pan out. He was in his third year of being completely smitten by the local town librarian, and in his second year of being able to put two words together in front of her without the help from Scotch, something he was perhaps a bit too proud of. And though he had decided very early on that the whole thing was utterly hopeless he had not been able to steer his thoughts or affections away. Realistically he was perhaps more in love with the idea of Belle French than the reality itself, given how little he had personally interacted with the woman. But he knew just enough to fill in the blanks and create a beautiful picture of how he imagined her to be: bookish- an easy assumption given how many times he had caught her in public places absorbed in a book-, kind, generous and delightfully able to hold a grudge and enact revenge when the time came. A bit reckless, and sometimes quick to form opinions, but also quick to revise them. A tactile person, with a great sense of fashion and a carelessness about what was expected of her.

He saw her in his head as clear as day, but little of that image was based on any personal knowledge of her. So, perhaps, he had found in Beauty a fictional substitute, someone he could talk to, and flirt with, without consequences, adopting the persona of someone more confident, more at ease with that sort of thing. The Dark One was comfortable in his skin in a way that he could only pretend to be sometimes. All the money and power he had accumulated over the years had helped him evolve from the spineless, cowardly lad he had once been, but when it came to certain situations, especially those that necessitated a level of vulnerability, he was still hopeless.

Perhaps, he wondered, it was better to think about his online liaison with Beauty as the real thing. They wrote to each other often, in and out of character, and over the course of their correspondence he had confided in her more than he had in any other person alive. Small things at first, every day peeves and details. Nothing that could identify them, certainly, but surprisingly intimate nevertheless. And over time it had grown to stuttering confessions and barings of the soul on both sides. She had told him of her teenage years in a mental asylum, the product of an overwrought widowed father trying to do right by his grieving daughter. He had had a few choice words to say about that, uncharitable thoughts about her father prompting his own willing sharing of the sad story of his childhood, neglectful father and all. It had felt nice, to confide in someone, someone he trusted.

He glanced at her email, where she lamented how their scene had not been as long or as satisfying as she had wanted, and saw she was proposing to meet later in a private stream to finish it the way they had both wanted. She had proposed something similar once or twice before and he had politely declined but now he wondered why not take her up on her offer. What was stopping him? His imaginary idea of Belle French, who in reality had never given him more than a polite smile in passing? Too young, too good, too beautiful to ever see him as anything other than an old cripple? Whatever he had built with Beauty felt infinitely more real, and attainable. A relationship without ever meeting in person seemed ideal in many aspects and, perhaps, if and when it came to meeting in the real world, his physical shortcomings would not be relevant, nor would it his rather uncharitable reputation.

He sent her a quick reply to arrange a meeting, feeling like a bit of roleplaying was, in the end, quite harmless. And if it were to lead to something a bit more meaningful, well, perhaps it was about time.

…

“Water from Lake Nostos. A key ingredient in most powerful potions and even some spells. I’m sure it could prove useful to you.”

The bard showed him the glowing crystal vial hanging from a long chain around her neck, with the glowing milky-white water from the cursed lake in it. He made a move to get closer to inspect it but the woman took a step back, tucking the vial back inside her bodice. The wizard’s eyes lingered there, hiz gaze growing intense. The bard felt her skin flush in response, something that felt a bit like fear but wasn’t running down her spine.

“And I’m sure a new wardrobe could prove useful to you, dearie. You’re practically wearing rags.” Rumplestiltskin made a show of running his eyes up and down her form with just enough disgust in his face to make it seem as if he was only noticing the rather sad state of her dress.

“It’s my best gown, I’d thank you not to insult it.”

He made a moue of disapproval, shaking his head for good measure.

“You’re far from your days as a princess. I hope seeing the world is worth putting up with your band of idiots that waste most of the gold they earn with your wit in pointless goose chases that you know will lead nowhere.”

Beauty didn’t respond. There was nothing she could say to contradict what he thought of her party, none of which was charitable to say the least. And she also knew that he was aware that all of it was worth the freedom she had won when she had left her life in her father’s castle behind. She did miss one or two things, perhaps. Her mother’s vast library being one and, perhaps, some of the fashions. Not so much the silhouettes- she had never liked how the sea of petticoats she was always forced to wear restricted her movement- but the fabrics and colours, certainly. And the shoes.

“I’m here to make a deal, Dark One. Are you doing business today or not?”

Lesser creatures would’ve rather bitten off their tongues that throw cheek at the Dark One, but Beauty did not even bat an eye, lips curling in a defiant little smile that had the wizard smirking, something like admiration blooming in his chest. It’s what he loved most about his little bard, her spine of steel. And perhaps her blue eyes, but that was neither here nor there.

“I don’t do business with raggedy urchins, dearie. If you want to sit down and negotiate you’ll need a bath.” He made a face, as if he could smell her across the room. “And a change of dress, while I put your current outfit to wash… Or set it on fire, I haven’t decided yet.”

She could tell that he was pulling his punches, that he was playing at being repulsed by her state of dress and hygiene just bad enough that she would see he did not really mean it, not in any real way. She would’ve been able to tell either way, but it was nice that he thought it important to spare her feelings. And she couldn’t deny that a bath sounded heavenly after so many weeks on the road, sleeping out in the open and washing in freezing-cold creeks whenever possible.

“Well, if you insist…”

He took her to a well-lit and spacious bathing chamber, with the biggest copper tub she had ever seen, already filled with warm, soapy water that smelled of vanilla. She wasted no time after the door closed behind him, stripping quickly, careless of her worn and mended garments, and slipping into the tub. It was heaven on her tired muscles, and her dirty skin, and though she would’ve stayed there for hours she knew that every minute spent bathing was a minute less with the Dark One. Their time was limited. If she didn’t return to camp in the morning her party would venture into the castle, likely thinking the most dreadful scenarios. She could picture Charming attempting to kick the front gate open and getting hurt for his troubles. She could not let them worry for her, or risk the rapport she had developed with the Dark One by coming in unannounced.

She got out of the tub with only a bit of reluctance and found a towel that she was convinced was enchanted to dry her faster than possible. She found clothing laid out in the adjoining dressing room, the undergarments soft and made of pale cream fabric and the dress of a lovely velvety, forest-green fabric, with a belt embroidered in small pearls that matched the detail about the neckline. She put it on gladly, twisting every which way to lace it up at her back. Living a less princessy life had made her acquire a number of small skills, including the ability to dress up mostly by herself even in gowns that did not lace up at the front, like most of her travelling clothes.

She did not spot her mauve travelling dress or her boots, but she was sure that Rumplestiltskin had whisked them away and would subtly mend them with magic, though she was sure he would deny it if she were to point it out. The green dress was accompanied by matching slippers, butter-soft and silent as they touched the stone floor. She made sure to dry her hair out, noticing how it shone red-gold in the flattering light of the candles, and took her time brushing it and styling it out of her face, so it fell flatteringly down her back. Her neck and most of her upper torso was bare but for the chain keeping the vial of water tucked safely against her breasts, the wide neckline of the dress dipping low enough to leave her collarbones bare, but she didn’t mind it. She was inside the Dark Castle, with the Dark One. She was safe there. On the road she always had to think about not attracting unwanted male attention. Here she rather felt like the opposite.

It was a silly infatuation, and many would argue any interest or desire on her part was due to the wizard’s power, which some would say was an aphrodisiac potent enough to make some look past the Dark One’s rather unfortunate exterior. No one would ever believe her if she confessed she rather… liked his appearance. The green-gold skin, the wild hair, the talons, but also the exquisitely-tailored pants and vests, the frothy cravats, the slim coats. A beast and a gentleman. A rather enticing combination, she had found.

She went downstairs into the trophy room once more, where two massive chairs were pulled up next to the roaring fireplace, the main source of light. The Dark One was sitting in one of them, a snifter gingerly held by a clawed hand, containing some sort of brown-gold liquid. He glanced at her the moment she entered the room, unwilling or unable to hide his appreciation for what he saw. He had removed his coat, leaving only his high-collared vest and one of his open shirts to cover his upper body, no forty cravat in sight. He seemed less guarded, more adventurous than he usually was when it came to matters of intimacy.

“You clean up well, dearie. Wish I could say the same for your dress. A wash will only do so much for it, but I refrained from throwing it into the fireplace. You’re welcome.”

“Good, as it’s not your property to destroy.” Beauty sat down, with a poise that betrayed her royal upbringing, and primly crossed her legs at the ankles. “So, Dark One, are you prepared to deal with me now?”

She had dealt with him dozens of times before, she had no idea why it all sounded so much like innuendo now. She couldn’t say she minded it.

“Of course, my dear. I’ve had time to think about our deal whilst you were splashing about in the tub.” His sing-songy voice broke, getting suddenly deeper for a second or two, as if he was struggling to retain his composure. “The vial is certainly a good start, but perhaps not quite enough. Now, I’m prepared to be generous given our long and fruitful history of dealmaking together, but I must also keep up certain appearances. So I thought I would also demand… an evening of your time.”

He tried to make it sound sinister, but she was past getting scared of him. At least in the traditional way. She raised an eyebrow, adopting a rather coquettish expression.

“And what would an evening of my time entail exactly?”

“Oh, well, you know. Companionship, perhaps a game of chess, some good wine, conversation and the like.”

She made a show of thinking it over before offering her hand, which he shook without delay.

“It’s a deal.”

Several hours later she had won two games of chess, one game of checkers, and was sipping from her third coupe of sparkling wine as she listened intently to a story about a deal the Dark One had once made with a king from a distant land. He was a gifted storyteller, engaging and funny, knowing exactly when to pause or gesticulate to keep the flow of the story just right. The king in his tale was rather unfortunate, in the sense that his hubris and arrogance had led him to make a deal with the Dark One that he did not understand. Most of Rumplestiltskin’s deals seemed to be like that, Beauty thought. And when he came to collect people dared be indignant that he demanded what they promised in the first place.

“The king was furious. Never let go of the grudge. Hired several assassins to try and kill me. A waste of gold, of course.”

He let out a trilling laugh, which soon proved to be contagious. Somehow, over time, it felt like their chairs had moved closer, because if she stretched out a hand she could easily touch him. Odd.

“Serves him right, for making such an open-ended deal. What a rookie mistake.”

She didn’t recall removing her slippers but she must have, because her feet were enjoying being pressed against the soft cushion of the chair. He made a gesture for her to lean close, which was a bit of a balancing feat, but she managed. Her heart skipped a bit when he leaned close too, almost pressing his mouth against her ear.

“You have no room to talk, sweet. You struck a very vague deal yourself, committing to an evening of conversation, chess ‘and the like’. That little turn of phrase is an invitation to all manner of sins, even the darkest and most decadent of debaucheries.”

He hissed the last part, making her shiver. Not content with letting him have the upper hand she turned her head so their lips were inches apart.

“That’s what I was hoping for.”

She could tell she had shocked him into inaction. Cocky Dark One, always in control of the conversation, always one step ahead of everyone else. It was nice to see him floundering, to catch him unprepared. Finally he gulped and put a little distance between them.

“Aren’t you the bravest little poppet.”

“My mother always said ‘Do the brave thing and bravery will follow.’ I’m a firm believer of the principle.”

Slowly, almost painfully so, both his hands clutched at the armrests of her chair, effectively pinning her to it. She knew she was supposed to be scared but she felt nothing but excitement, a buzzing just beneath the skin that made her strangely needy for something. Touch, perhaps, or more. The feeling was so overwhelming she did not realise at first that the laces of her dress were coming undone, as if invisible hands were painstakingly pulling them loose. She tried to make eye contact, but he ducked his head, pressing his face against the base of her neck, where it met her shoulder. She sighed, noticing how gentle he was, his touch feather-light, and discovering that she would not mind a rougher treatment. He was restraining himself, she realised, trying to be a gentleman. Sweet, but not what she wanted from him at that moment. Feeling bold Beauty carded a hand through his hair, pressing his face more firmly against her skin.

“Please, Rumple.”

Those two words seemed to have a magic of their own, producing a sudden and radical change in him. He moved too fast for her to see, wrapping her up in his arms and depositing her on the long dining table on the other side of the room. She did not know whether he used magic or simply moved inhumanly fast, but either possibility excited her, reminded her of the power of the creature looming over her, claws tugging at the unlaced bodice of her dress, dragging the velvet down to expose her undergarments. She was wearing the underbust corset he had provided over the snowy linen shift he had also left for her, so it was easy for him to simply tug the shift down a bit to expose her breasts. He leaned forward, nuzzling the space between her breasts, making a sort of satisfied purring noise as he sniffed up her clavicles and down her throat. Then, once he was happy with the level of squirming she was doing, he finally gave her what she wanted, closing his mouth, with all of its sharp teeth, around one of her rosy nipples. It was a strange feeling at first, more unfamiliar than pleasant, but when he began to suck it changed completely, little shocks of pleasure running from her nipple to between her legs. It was amazing, more than she had ever achieved with her own hands whenever she could get some privacy at night, and the feeling doubled when he grasped her untouched breast, his long claws estimulating the other nipple.

She sunk both her hands in his hair, fisting it in an effort to keep herself from squirming too much, feeling both aroused and impatient. She kept waiting for him to tire of her chest and move further down but when he was finally done sucking her nipples his head moved north, his lips blinding searching for hers till they were kissing. It wasn’t anything like any kiss she had experienced before, not even the unpleasant smack her former fiance had forced on her. Though it was just as forceful there was a wild quality to it, one she had never associated with the affectionate gesture. It was heavenly, the release of passion, far from cooling her down, setting her on fire, stoking her need for him till it felt like she would explode if he didn’t give her relief.

He must have sensed it, her desperation calling to him like a siren song, because at some point he let go of her mouth to travel south, past her aching chest, and velvet-covered belly to where the skirts of her long gown kept her modestly covered. He wasted no time dragging the heavy fabric up, letting it pool around her hips along with the white linen of her shift. She did not have any other undergarments, having not been provided with any, so she was completely exposed to his gaze, from her milky things to her round hips. She squirmed, trying to picture what he must be looking at, the trim thatch of chestnut curls at the apex of her legs, obscenely drenched by this point and making a poor show of trying to hide the pink, glistening flesh beneath.

“What a lovely cunt you have.” His voice was dark, guttural, a monster trying to speak like a man. It thrilled her. “Let me drink from it, precious.”

He didn’t wait for her reply, choosing instead to simply bury his head against her flesh, his tongue rough and wide as it lapped at her field parting them to seek out the bundle of nerves that was throwing for attention. She arched her back, feeling like it was only her firm grip on her thigh and hip what kept her anchored to the table. She fell into a rhythm of sorts, her body seeking out something she could not find but his mouth striving to compensate, to give her what she needed. It was heavenly and seemed to last an eternity, the sensations building up till everything but them faded away, all sensations muted. She felt him move to, thrusting his hips against the edge of the table, making it rattle in a way that spoke of his sheer brute force. It was heady to have someone like Rumplestiltskin, who had always strived to don the mask of a gentleman around her, be so unhinged, so animalistic. More than anything it was that complete loss of control what drove her over the edge. She cried out, feeling her inner muscles coil and her senses spiral out of control, her orgasm leaving her dizzy. It seemed to last forever and not nearly long enough. She laid there for a while after the feeling passed, feeling satisfied and wanting at the same time. A few seconds later he also keened, slumping against her still-parted legs, his hair tickling the soft skin of her inner thighs.

They lay that way for what seemed like ages, while they scrambled to try and collect themselves. The afterglow did not feel awkward or uncomfortable, and it loosened up her tongue enough to venture out that she had hoped for an even more intimate act, a joining that was even deeper than what they had done.

“A deal for such a prize would have to involve all my deepest secrets, my most valuable truths.” He paused, pressing his forehead against the silky inside of her thigh, like a penitent would. “One day, perhaps.”

...

“Do you want to meet? I think it’s time.”

The orgasm had mellowed him out, otherwise he was sure he would’ve at least panicked a little bit. But in the afterglow of what they had just shared, albeit virtually, a meeting did not seem like such a bad idea. In hushed voices they arranged the time and place, tomorrow at a café and bistro in Boston. Nice and public, for both their safety. They knew both lived near Boston, so it seemed natural to pick the city. The drive wasn’t too bad, and he hoped it wasn’t a great inconvenience to her either.

Reluctantly they said their goodbyes, both trying to prolong the moment a bit more till they were both close to nodding off. With a final, reluctant goodbye they both disconnected, leaving Gold to clean himself up and make his way home. With his rumpled suit, disheveled hair and five o’clock shadow it must have looked like the walk of shame. It certainly didn’t feel that way.

...

He woke up in a happy mood, perhaps the best in a long time. Far from feeling stupid or embarrassed about his little bit of roleplaying-turned-porn-session he felt smug, empowered by the notion that he had made a smart, desirable woman come with only his voice and imagination. He felt like he was on the brink of something, as if an exciting possibility was opening up for him.

He went about his day with a bit of a spring in his step, though most citizens of Storybrooke would be pressed to notice. It was only when he saw the book on gardening he was due to return to the library that afternoon- his two Moth orchids had developed small water-soaked spots on the leaves and he had wanted to consult some verified sources instead of relying exclusively on Google search results- that his mood dampened somewhat. As nice as last night had been- bloody fantastic rather- it did make him sad, somewhat, to give up his crush on Belle French. However unattainable it was still nice to have it, that bit of feeling that did not need to be reciprocated to be real. It had been nice to feel something for someone for a change, to look forward to each smile and each small conversation. But it wouldn’t be right, and what he had now was more valuable in any case. Perhaps, with time, he would grow out of his infatuation with the librarian and they could be friends. That would be rather lovely.

He crossed the street towards the library around three o’clock, wanting to beat the rush caused by children being let off school, a busy time for one of the only kid-friendly places in Storybrooke. There were some patrons about, and the afternoon light made the library look truly beautiful. Miss French truly worked miracles with her limited budget.

He found her easily, shelving a few books in the poetry section, and tried not to preen when she smiled widely at him.

“Mr Gold, hi! Always a pleasure. Here to return a book?”

The librarian was always sunny and welcoming, but she looked even happier that day, an excited sort of energy practically rolling off of her in waves. Thank goodness he had decided to give up on his silly little crush, otherwise he might have buckled under the power of her brightness.

“Yes. And you look particularly happy today, Miss French, if I might say so.”

The librarian smiled even more, if possible, and leaned close, as if to tell him a secret.

“I have a date tonight.”

It hurt, the slightest bit, the shock making him take a step back, but less than it would have yesterday. And perhaps, he reasoned, this would be good. This would put them both in the path of becoming friends, allowing him to leave his crush behind much faster. He forced himself to enquire politely after the lucky man, listening as she talked about someone she had been flirting with for a long time now, and it seemed like the relationship was finally ready for the next step.

“I’m really happy. And very nervous. It feels like such a risk, after all this time building something that could easily fizzle out with a first date. But I’ve always believed in doing the brave thing, and bravery will follow. It’s what my mother always said.”

She had turned back to shelve a book as she finished the last sentence, so thankfully she did not see his jaw drop and his eyes widen, his surprise so visible no one could’ve missed it. His heart lurched in his chest, sheer and sudden panic making it difficult to breathe. Fuck. Fuck. It wasn’t possible. Belle was Beauty. Belle was Beauty. He tried to contradict the notion in his head but he had known Beauty’s British accent was passable but fake, and it made sense for him not to have identified her voice when she usually spoke with her natural Australian drawl, something he associated so closely with her. Everything else he had ever found out about Beauty, in and out of the D&D setting, coincided with what he knew, or thought he knew, about the librarian, one of the reasons why he had developed a crush on her in the first place.

The initial shock was followed by a spike of elation and then a sinking feeling of dread. He needed to cancel. She would be disappointed, but more disappointed if he didn’t and she realised her crush was a man a good deal older than her that was known for being the town monster. It would be awkward and she would not be able to escape him after it, both doomed to meet each other often, given the small size of the town. He could not put her through that.

He stopped himself then, noticing the familiar dark turn of his thoughts, dipped in so much self-loathing it was almost stifling. And he wondered if he really was thinking about Belle or about himself. Being a coward, taking the easy way out. He thought about how he had woken up, the world full of promise and the future bright with the possibility of something great on the horizon. And how he had felt brave last night, to leap into something that had been so worth it. Perhaps it was time to be brave more often. Do something, however small. Put the ball in her court, somehow.

“I wish you the best of luck, then. Perhaps some other time, if you’re not too busy, you could pop into my shop. I have a few antique books I feel you would appreciate.”

It was a nice recovery, and he was happy to see her smile, apparently welcoming the proposition. Everyone knew Mr Gold’s shop was only to be entered when making deals. He didn’t really allow idle perusal of his stock and no one had the money or interest to buy his antiques. His business was conducted mostly with people from major cities on the East Coast.

“Wow, an open invitation to traipse into Mr Gold’s shop, that’s not something one sees everyday. What do you want in return? I hear only deals can grant you access to the shop.”

She made sure to make it clear she was joking, something he appreciated. Feeling emboldened by her kind gesture he adopted a slightly higher pitch and replied:

“Oh, nothing much. Companionship, perhaps a game of chess, some good wine, conversation and the like.”

Being close enough he got to see as it dawned on her, as her brain quickly processed what he had said and where she had heard it before. And he knew, knew because of the way she looked at him, as if she did not recognise him, as if he was a brand new person to her, that she understood the implication, what he had meant to tell her without actually telling her.

“Hope to see you soon, then. Good luck with the date.”

He turned around before he could second-guess himself, feeling terrified by what he had exposed but satisfied at the same time. This way it was Belle’s choice to show up. For all she knew he had no idea that she was Beauty. She could make up an excuse and simply not meet her, and their worlds would never merge. If she did not want to pursue anything between them all she had to do is cancel the date, or not show up. He would respect her decision and never push for anything, or acknowledge their online relationship in the real world.

He sent her an email just as he was about to get into his car, letting her know that he understood that this meeting was a bit of a risk and he would understand if she backed out at the last minute. There were other things he could do in Boston, and he was not adverse to having dinner by himself. And they could still be friends, no matter what she decided. He was halfway to Boston when he heard his cell phone ping, letting him know he had a new email. As he expected, it was from Beauty:

“I’m on my way. Can’t wait to meet you! See you soon.”

He smiled.

#argoslight #rumbelle fic #rumbelle #Roll for Initiative #Thestraggletag fanfiction #Rumbelle Gift Swap

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statticscribbles · 3 years

Text

Mission Pt 1: Backlog

Summary: A Peggy/Reader/Bucky, Reader is another winter soldier, Bucky was left in charge of you

You wake up and everything is black, you can feel the cold creeping in and you wish for the before. You squint against the light and can hear screaming and gunshots far off. The man standing in front of you holds a gun towards you; you nod and grasp it, moving out of the box they usually keep you in.

“Fuckin’ hell they didn’t say you were a woman.”

“Orders?” You ignore his questions and wait for him to say what he wants. He explains how you need to follow him and make sure he doesn’t get killed.

“Accepted mission. Where is the end point?”

“End point? Uh, my hotel room.” You nod and follow him out. He screams as you drag him back to the wall and shove him through a door.

“Safe in room, wait.” You return to the main hall and pick off the agents searching for the man. You know they don’t expect you to have a new handler yet so they enlist you for help. You lead them back to the room shooting them when they peer through the doorway. You step on the bodies as you reach for the man.

“Sir, Come out. It’s safe now.” You tug him over the bodies and move towards the entry way. You press him towards the car, and he stumbles over his nerves as you shove him in the back seat.

“I am not being driven by a woman.”

“Then we walk.” He grumbles but settles into the back seat as you start the car. You drive in silence for a while before the man tells you his hotel address. You pull up to the building and can see most of the people in familiar clothes. You nod to the man and as he gets out he beckons you forward.

“To my room, those were your orders.” You tuck the gun away and nod moving in front of him to lead him towards room 304. You can tell you unnerve him although you’re not sure if it’s because you’re a woman or because you just killed ten people. You step over into the rooms threshold and nod to him as he enters it. You turn to him when he closes and locks the door.

“New Orders are-“ You shoot him through the stomach.

“My orders before you were to kill you, thankfully your mission did not interfere with superiors.” You nod and step over his body before aiming the gun at his head and firing. You begin to make your way back to the base but a smell wafts around you and you find yourself captivated by it. You follow it and find yourself standing in front of a diner. You catch a glimpse of your reflection and decide that there’s no blood anywhere so you can afford to stop in and eat real food, with the emergency money Commander gives you. You order a burger fries and a milkshake and the woman who takes your order smiles at you. You can hear the door opening and another person walking in.

“Hey there English, can I get you the usual?” You don’t look up but assume the woman’s nods form the scrape of the chair you hear next.

“Any more leads on that old case? I’ve seen you pouring over the files, who was she anyways, she can’t have been that important to the SSR otherwise they’d have everyone looking for her.”

“You’re smarter than everyone gives you credit for, she was a very good friend.” You frown at the voice. You’ve heard it before, you’ve heard her before. You searching through your old missions and as you finish you burger the waitress worriedly fusses over you.

“You’re crying, are you sure you’re alright miss.” She hands you a tissue and you wipe your face with it. Clutching it you nod.

“Fine, just a bad memory is all.” You try to smile but the other woman is suddenly peering at your face.

“Y/N?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know anyone by that name, I’ve been told I have one of those faces.” You smile awkwardly and glance up to the clock. It’s only been an hour; you’ll be able to make it to the safe house long before sunset.

“I’m sorry, are you sure you don’t know anyone by that name.”

“I wish I could say otherwise but I don’t know anyone named that.” You stand and excuse yourself, wringging your hands as you know she wasn’t asking the right questions. You make it to the safe house and Commander ushers you in fretting over you.

“What happened?”

“Target requested a mission, but it didn’t interfere with the orders to eliminate him, just extended the mission. He’s dead, in his hotel room.”

“You smell like grease..”

“ He decided to get food with me. I had a milkshake.” Commander frowns.

“And a burger and fries..”

“You’ll have to burn that off before we put you back in cryo. You know the rules about eating on missions.”

“It would have been suspicious to refuse..” Commander nods.

“Let's go train then, you haven’t beaten me in years.” Commander laughs and lets you charge first. You’re twisting yourself back and fumbling to grab at the knife you dropped as another agent scampers forward.

“Commander, a new mission..” The agent shrinks back when they see you panting holding the knife in front of yourself protectively.

“Thank you Jason, well, looks like you’ll be going into cryo for a while then… They want to work on improvements with other subjects, but they’re allowing me and my team to keep you in peak health; we’ll be waking you every few years to re-feed you and keep you up to date on the world. They said it should only take a decade or so to complete.” You nod and pocket your knife before following Commander down to the basement. You tense in fear as the cryo pod comes into view and you shrink back as the door hisses open.

“Come one, you know this has to happen eventually. Go on. Make it easier and choose to sleep.” You swallow and nod skittering around the edge before clumsily climbing into the open door. You peer up to see the Commander smiling down at you.

“You’ll be okay Y/N, you’ll be okay.” You feel the cold and you’re not sure if you nodded back before everything goes back to the dark before.

Commander looks no different than when you went back in, but you’re brought to a small table in the basement that wasn’t there before. You notice their limp as you settle into the chair.

“Your leg?”

“Nothing to worry about, just age. Now you’ve been out for five years, so this is everything that’s happened.. We also have some clothes and music for you to examine as well. If needed you can be brought out to the town nearby.” You nod and begin to read the notebooks and newspapers that the agents have gathered for you. You look up the stairs as a knock on the door sounds. A male agent comes down holding a tray.

“Average meal of the week. Eat it.” You can tell he’s afraid, you’re not sure if it’s of Commander or you. You nod and eat the food mechanically.

“This is a chicken pot pie, it’s a simple easy dish to make, we could cook it if you want.. We have a week till you go back in. You’ll need to train and use some updated weapons.” You nod. Commander gives you the quilt that you’ve been told to sew. You add a few squares of fabric from the old dresses and clothes your wore. The new wardrobe you won’t wear is folded nicely in the closet. You wonder when the quilt will be finished and you secretly hope once it’s done they’ll let you keep it. Commander lets you work on the quilt for an hour before you’re brought up to the kitchen to learn how to make a chicken pot pie. You learn what and how to fire and dismantle an Uzi within the next two days. Once you have your knives strapped to your arms and legs Commander hustles you towards the town. You wish for the combat clothes you normally wear, but tuck yourself into the massive winter coat anyways. You’re tense and paranoid in the strange town, it hasn’t changed much but you long to go to the city nearby and look for the diner. Commander asks if you want to go to the city tomorrow as you seem to be able to handle the crowds of the town. You try to hide your excitement but can’t help the warmth in your smile. You wake up from the cot you’ve been sleeping on to hear shouting and a gunshot. You keep your knives close but stay curled under the blankets and coat from the wardrobe. You huddle curled under the coat tucking your body as close to yourself as you can get. You can hear footsteps rushing around the rest of the house and you can hear the door slamming to the basement and you tuck yourself under the coat fully. You hear men shouting and all the papers on the table being thrown around. You can hear them ripping the clothes out of the wardrobe and tossing them over the coat you’re tucked under. You hear stray gunfire and then the footsteps telling you they’ve all left the room. You peek out as you hear another set of footfalls. You can hear the limp as they stomp down the stairs and the worried face of Commander stares at you before hustling you over to the cyro’s open door.

“You have to get in now, we need to transport you to New York, it’s the safest place for you. Get in.” Commander shoves you forward into the pod, you turn around and see blood covering the doorway as it’s closed over you. You fall into sleep before you can question if the blood is your own.

You wake again to Commanders face. There are gray hairs are slowly creeping over the brown you’ve grown accustom to. You’re not sure why you’re expecting his hair to be longer.

“You’ve been out for fifteen years. Come on Y/N, time to get up, you’ve had enough beauty sleep. A lot’s been happening.” You stumble out of the pod and swipe your hand through your hair.

“We’ll have to give that a trim, it’s getting long again.” You nod and move towards the table you see in the corner.

“We’re in New York city. Still a basement, but that’s safest right now. Shall we get down to business? Quilt first, it helps with your motor skills and helps your body adjust to being out of the pod.” You’re handed the quilt and given twice the normal amount of fabric to add, you settle into the new armchair and start sewing.

“There was a space craft launched, and a new president, as well as Winston Churchill’s funeral, in addition to two men going into orbit, and a massive civil right’s movement. There’ were some amazing movies and musicals produced. And my favourite part of this year so far is that sixty-six of those nazi’s got life sentences in prison.”

“Busy year then?”

“Oh! Germany’s been divided by a wall as well, that happened a few years ago. You don’t need to know any of that though. I’ve woken you up because you have a mission. Here is everything you need to know about it, you have two days. It shouldn’t take you that long though.” You nod taking the black book from her hands you scan over the information and go to the wardrobe to find clothes to wear. You like this year; the clothes while not terribly loose seem to be long enough to conceal more weapons than previous years. You slip you knives against your skin and hum in time with the sound of the metal. You depart the safe house for the first time in a decade. You giggle at the thought. You’re walking through the streets and find the building easily. You walk through the doors and slip past the secretary and up the two flights of stairs. You’re scanning the door numbers when a young woman approaches you.

“Excuse me can I help you?”

“Yes I’m looking for Mr. Phillips office I have a three pm meeting, and I’m terrified I’m late.” The woman smiles and leads you to a large door where she knocks and shoves you in with a wink calling out to Mr. Phillips’ that his three o’ clock is here. You smile shyly and notice another woman sitting in a chair.

“I should get going then. Sir, I’ll see you later.” The woman stands and as she breezes by you tense. She keeps her eyes straight ahead and you can tell she gasps as you tell Mr. Phillips you name is Y/N. You’re not sure if that was a reckless move, but within the hour Ms. Peggy Carter is the only one to remember. You’re sitting outside a familiar diner, cleaning one of your knives in the back alley before you start your way back to the safe house.

You slip into the house without knocking and you ready one of you knives dragging the tip against Commanders arm as it’s draped over the arm of the couch.

“You’re late, stop by to get a burger again?”

“No just to clean up, lot’s of blood.”

“Blood?”

“Yeah the orders on the paper were to kill Mr. Phillips..”

“After we got information out of him! How the fuck are we supposed to get information out of a dead guy!”

“I can get it I swear!” You stumble back as Commander lunges forward from the couch, gun gripped with white knuckles.

“You fucking better! Get out and don’t come back till you have all the information!” You scramble back to the headquarters and mumble an excuse about forgetting your purse. You shift through as many of the files as you can; folding and stuffing the papers into the bag you slipped under your skirt. You huff and finish emptying the file cabinets against the back wall. You hear footsteps approaching and sigh as you crawl onto the fire escape the slip into the alley. You return and throw the bag towards the chair Commander sits in.

“Thank you. I’m sorry for being harsh but that would have ruined the mission. I won’t punish you like the rest of the agents want me to. But if they ask I shocked you for a while.

“Of course.”

“You’ll have to go back in now, the mission is finished.”

“But I could help you look through the files.. or I could-“

“Y/N, you have to go back in. no arguments, go on. I’ll be down in a second.” You’re seated at the table scribbling in the margin of the notes you’ve been given to learn. Commander comes down the worn steps, the limp all the more obvious and you take a moment to truly look at Commander’s appearance.

“Commander, your hairs long, we should trim it…” you laugh weakly.

“Come on, to the pod. In a minute though, I need to tell you something first.” You nod letting commander hold out the quilt to you.

“We’ll let you finish this, I’ve left instructions for your next handlers. When you go into the pod this time, I wont be here when you wake up. You’re going to be asleep for a long time, but you’ll be okay.” Commander smiles at you. Now is as good a time as any to ask.

“Commander, did I ever go on a mission with anyone named Peggy Carter, I keep remembering her but I’m not sure if, it’s all fuzzy..”

“You’ll remember her as you sleep, you’ll remember what happened to us. Now, Y/N, go to sleep.” You furrow your brow biting your lip.

“Goodnight Commander.”

“Bucky.” He smiles and kisses your forehead.

You can hear two people arguing as you wake up, you make a point not to move but another man’s voice say’s your heart rate is increasing. You try to keep yourself calm but you can feel the panic creeping in. He comments again on your heart rate accelerating and you open your eyes to realize the door to the pod is still closed. You slam your hand against it and it pops open. There are three men in front of you and two other people behind them that you can’t see.

“Did none of you read the instructions?” You watch as they’re expressions shift.

“Instructions?”

“Yes, look they’re right here. Commander, oh.. Here.” You hand them the piece of worn paper and you grasp at the quilt.

“I need to sew more on this, it helps with my motor skills.”

“Of course.” One of the men hands you the sewing kit and smiles softly. You nod back. You finish stitching the clothes you last wore and you look up as the group read the instructions.

“So it say’s here we give you all these notebooks, you read them, and we ‘take you out for current time activities’ which apparently is normal stuff people do every day in this time period..”

“What’s the year?”

“2018” A woman steps from behind the men.

“Peggy!” You jump forward clinging to her. You can vaguely hear one of the men cursing and another woman stands next to Peggy, she gentely pulls you off her.

“You changed your hair it looks so light? Did you get bleach to do it, is there a secret mission?”

“My name’s Sharon, Peggy was my aunt.”

“She died? But I never got to tell her I was okay..”

“You knew Peggy?”

“Yes, she was my friend, and I worked with her on some of the missions..”

“Y/N?”

“At your service!” You beam at the man who walks down the stairs.

“Wow, you’ve changed quiet a bit since I last saw you, the hair looks good.” Bucky raises an eyebrow.

“You knew me when I was Winter?”

“Of course, we only went on a few missions but your team liked to brag about you to my team. They called you the fist and went on and on about all your missions, they just called me Y/N..”

“Y/N?”

“Yeah, number 56327. If you want to be more specific..”

“Oh. Oh god, I’m so sorry I didn’t..” You hold your hand up smiling.

“It’s alright. Nothing came of it.” He nods and moves you away from Sharon. You tilt your head at the other woman. She raises an eyebrow at you and steps closer. You step backwards and Bucky laughs.

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mxvladdy · 3 years

Text

Kinktober: Day Three- DMC5 Dante

Prompt: Formal Wear, mutual masturbation

Word Count: 942

NSFW

"This is it, love. This is how you kill me." Dante looks down at you pleadingly, large silver-blue eyes trying their best to sway you.

"It's a tie, Dante. I think you'll live." You tighten it with a firm tug. You roll your eyes at his overdramatic cough. “You clean up nice.” Taking a step back you eye your boyfriend up and down with a nod of satisfaction. Never in your wildest dreams did you think that you would get to see him in a fitted and pressed suit. Lord, it was even clean.

Deep burgundy hugs his heavenly figure, the black buttons of the shirt fighting for dear life to not pop off as he moves. The black coat you picked for him framed his broad shoulders making him look even more solid and bulky. Its delicate pattern of ivy and hounds stitched in black silk shine in the bright light of the room.

Dante turns checking himself out in the glass of the office window, his face an unfiltered mask of disdain. “At least the pants make my ass look good.”

“Pfft- as if you needed help.” You squeeze his butt and grab your jacket from his desk. “Come on. Morrison is waiting for us, and if I miss the appetizers again I’m making you sleep on the couch.” Such chances to dine out were incredibly rare for both of you. Luckily, Morrison had gotten a huge payout from your last joint gig and thought it was only right to treat the whole crew to some good food and drink.

The restaurant was large and opulent, the lights of the hanging chandeliers making you squint. You breathe deeply taking in the tantalizing smell of baked goods and savory dishes. Ugh-your stomach growled, ready to finally taste all those things that you could only dream about beforehand.

Dante pulls you along grumbling under his breath about how itchy his collar was. “Come on, sooner we eat sooner we can go.” You frown but say nothing about his mood.

Dinner goes by without a hitch, the whole gang relaxed and enjoying some amazing food. Even Dante seemed to mellow out, a few beers and two large stakes under his belt. He gives you a lazy wink before going back to overlooking the restaurant for their large table in the back. He sat with his back to the wall and in clear line of sight of all the doors and windows. You smile reaching to grab his hand on the table to give it a squeeze. Always ready for a fight, even when he didn’t need to be.

“Was it worth the itchy collar?” You ask sometime later, hand in hand with the hunter as you walk back to Devil May Cry. Dante sways next to you bumping his shoulder with yours playfully.

“You got me. The food was good and the dream sitting next to me made it even better.” He flashes you his signature smile, silver brows wiggling.

“Ya? I’m a dream now, am I?” You wiggle your brows back. He stops turning to face you fully. The street lamp above you casts him in shadows, his eyes reflecting the low light hungrily.

“Oh, yes. Might have to start hiding money from the ladies so I can make you dress up more often. Bet taking this off of you would be like unwrapping a present on Christmas morning.”

You can’t help the giggle that slips from your wine loose lips. “Oh really? Well, lucky for you, you don't have to wait till Christmas.”

His hands are on you in a flash groping and tugging at the outfit you bought just for tonight. His tongue pushes against yours moments later. You don’t know when he moved you to the narrow alley across the street from you but with his hands now down your pants you really did not care. You match his fevered intensity pulling meanly at the leather belt around his waist. The metal of his belt buckle cuts into for a moment before you finally pull it open.

You pull away from his lips. “Seriously, Dante?” He shrugs.

“I don’t normally wear underwear anyway.”

“You are leaking into a 200 dollar pair of pants.” You laugh to yourself stroking another bead of pre from him. He thrust into your shallow pulls cursing when you twist around the head to tease him. He gives as good as he gets though.

Soon your thighs are shaking, knees weak and threatening to give in with each pump of his long thick fingers inside you and around you. Dante’s teeth and lips litter bruises around your exposed collar bone adding to the sharp yet pleasant pain of the rough brick wall behind you.

Your bottoms were ruined, the expensive fabric streaked with cum and sweat from Dante grinding against your thigh. He is deathly quiet. His breathing harsh and loud in the silence of the ally.

“Fuck, you always get me so needy.” He pumps his fingers in hard, pulling a long keen shout from you before scissoring your soaked hole. “Do you know how badly I wanted to toss you over that table and fuck you? Ruin this get up beyond repair? You wouldn’t be able to walk away from that table-damn… not even able to crawl.” His grunts grabbing your hand from where it started to slip from his reddened cock. “I’m not done yet, and I don’t think you are either. One more~ you can do that I know.”

You whine, eyes fluttering as you climax again, his rough fingertips bullying your over sensitive glans.

Just one more.

#DMC kinktober #dante sparda #dmc5 dante #kinktober 2021

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shadowturtlesstuff · 3 years

Text

No secrets...

here is my how you get the girl cressworth. its kinda sad, i wanted to do happy but i cant apparently. the end is happy and i really want to do a part 2 in cresswells pov

The cold buries itself inside me, finding its way past my bones and gathering through me till all my thoughts are of the cold. Distracting me from what I am about to do, and I cannot figure out whether that is a good thing or not. I haven't spoken to the insufferable Mr. Thomas Cresswell for over six months, yet I am walking a familiar route to his door. I still haven't pieced together why I feel the need to see him tonight, instead of the morning but even if he shuts the door on me and leaves me to fend for myself against the rain it might calm my racing mind. He would be right to do so, after I walked away first. We were close, getting closer every day. Thomas had told me his feelings plenty of times and I had brushed them off till I started to feel them too. I panicked and then made a mess of everything. We are both poor at expressing our feelings yet I had run from the thought of even trying, and now that I have been away I realized how important he is to me, not only as someone I love but as a friend. I miss his quick wit, his charm and dry humour that uncle doesn't think is appropriate half the time. I miss knowing I will see him and see his own smile at me. Knowing I could melt the cold heart of his with just a small comment is something I was proud of, yet began to fear slightly as it was too easy to see that smile. I had learnt that nothing in life is that easy.

I was wrong. Desperately wrong.

Now I haven't seen that smile in so long and I miss it. I miss the person who shares my humour and lets me face any challenge. I just hope he has missed me half as much as I missed him.

My heels click against the cobblestone, my pace speeding up to match my racing heart. Thomas’s house comes into view as I round a corner and I suck in a sharp breath. Can I really face Thomas again? Tell him that I miss him?

This is a worthless idea, a ridiculous notion that Thomas would want to talk to me now. I should leave now and get out of the rain before I become seriously ill and bed ridden by my father. The rain has drowned my skirts, my hair clings to my face. This was a fool's errand. I turn trying to swallow my embarrassment and resentment towards myself when I hear a door open. Shit. I refuse to turn and see if it’s Thomas’s and hope that it-

“Audrey Rose?”

Shit. of course luck would abandon me to this. I don't know what I expected to find when I turned back but it was not this. Thomas, my devilishly handsome friend, stands in his doorway eyes completely transfixed on me. We stand staring, the only sound surrounding us is the pouring rain and my own heartbeat which has amplified its sound so all of London can hear my fear. My anticipation, love and heartbreak and guilt. Words flood my mind but none surfice what I need to tell him and I open and close my mouth like a gaping fish. I’m sure the rain is helping reinforce me looking like such a fool. My mind repeats what an idiot I am and I begin to turn to save myself from further embarrassment.

“Come inside?” Thomas's voice fills the whole street, it sounds slightly panicked, as though he doesn't know what to say. I don't blame him. I showed up uninvited at his flat and haven't managed to look like a functioning human yet I debate leaving, even if I want to stay, but just as I make a step to leave I hear a broken please.

Once again we stare at each other, there are so many words between us that I consider that there isn't a right one to start with. Perhaps his ‘please’ is an effective start. It certainly captured my attention. The rawness of the plea makes me nod and walk towards him. I want to believe Thomas has missed me, that I meant something, but if that is the case, he should be more mad at me. So why invite me in? Why bother?

“I saw you out the window and,” Thomas begins as I stop in front of him and wait in case he changes his mind, “I thought I was crazy at first but when I realized it truly was you I thought I'd save you, just like old times.”

His tone is bittersweet, I wince because I am the reason it has a bitter-ish undertone laced with a hint of grief.

“Save me?” I look around slightly confused, there is no assailant chasing me, no murderer on my tail as far as I knew so what is he saving me from? My own mind, because in a way he has, or at least might.

“The rain. I know you hate the cold and no one wants to stand in the rain so,” he moves from the door and gestures inside. I look down at my dress, completely full of water and wince again.

“As you might guess, the rain has now used my dress as a sponge so if I enter your flat I will ruin it.” I take a step back, it is coward-ish but I can't ruin anything else for him, even if it is only water damage. It won't be the worst thing I've done to him.

“Wadsworth, just get inside.”

His flat is warm and makes me notice how cold I truly was. Immediately I begin shivering as Thomas gets towels, blankets and anything to warm me up.

We sit across from each other, I'm wrapped in blankets and holding onto a mug of coco for dear life as Thomas sits with one hand on his and the other tapping on his armchair. The silence is not as bad as I expected but it was never awkward silence that Thomas and I shared. Which reminds me of Thomas's previous words.

Just like old times.

Except not like old times at all. I have to say something soon and again there is no right way to start this. Sorry will not suffice or fix it, but it is still necessary. Hopefully it will mean something at least.

“I know this is unexpected and probably unwanted and it has been awhile since we spoke but,” I chance a glance at him and he is staring at his mug with an unreadable expression, I've no idea where I'm going with this speech but if I can get him to at least look at me it will be worth it, “but I've missed you and I've had time to reflect on my mistakes.”

“Wadsworth, I've missed you more than I want to admit. I spent everyday waiting to see if you would come back but now you’re here…”

He trails off, leaving me to guess what he is thinking, which is always difficult, but add my paranoia I can only expect he wants me gone. However, I wait in dreaded silence for him to collect himself and speak his mind.

“You’re here and I've no idea what I want.”

We both consider his words, it seems we are still both atrocious at understanding our feelings.

“I've figured out that I want you in my life in some way, any way, and that I was tired of running, of pretending and hiding. I was afraid, before, of what we were and even if we can never go back to that I- I guess I am not going to conform to my fear anymore.”

“I lost my mind when you were gone. I thought I had somehow pushed too far or interpreted things wrong, perhaps I had, but coming here and saying you missed me doesn't fix everything.”

“I understand the fear, Wadsworth but we were partners, no secrets, remember?”

He finally looks at me and I wish he hadn’t. His dark brown eyes pierce my already fragile heart. “I know.” I whisper, looking at my cup.

Once again I whisper I know. I knew this would only be the start of fixing things and I was grateful he was even letting me try.

“I know, no secrets,” I look at him and brace myself to confess my thoughts, “I am a fool for running, I know that now, but at the time I felt trapped, not because of you but what you represent, in a fashion, change does not come easy, but you made it feel so easy I hadn't realized the change and I had convinced myself long before you nothing was easy or fair. I was the difficult, unfair one, and I will forever be sorry, Cresswell, I would like to make it up to you but I understand if-” I let out a breath and attempt to say, if you don't want me to but I can't. It is selfish but I desperately want to make things right.

“No secrets,” Thomas says, almost to himself as he quickly stands then takes the seat right next to me, taking the coco and setting both mugs down. “You are a little insane Wadsworth,” he says with a hint of a smirk and I let the comment slide just because of that smirk, “We cannot change what has happened or fix it as quickly as we would both like but I've missed you too much to be mad. In the future we should be better at this, both of us. I never told you how petrified I felt either. My adoration of you caught me off guard. I thought I had some disease, much to Dacina’s amusement, and I considered running too but you were, are, intoxicating.” Thomas smiles at me, full of promise that I smile back. He is offering a truce of sorts through his own truth and I can't help but imagine Thomas trying to explain his feelings to his sister.

“No secrets, no running.” I offer back and he nods, taking my hand in his and absentmindedly making shapes as we sit in silence. Just like old times.

Except I ruin it with my shivers. I was so focused on Thomas I forgot I was still damp and cold.

“You know, skin to skin contact is the most efficient way of warming up, I wouldn't want you catching hypothermia when there is a simple solution.” he says, smirking fully and I roll my eyes despite my huge smile. There is the Cresswell I fell in love with.

“Scoundrel.” I remove my hand from his and place it under the blankets and nestle further back.

“I am indeed, but also a gentleman. You’re staying here till it's stopped raining. You can have my bed if you want, or the sofa. I can find some fresh clothes and dry your dress as much as possible.”

Thomas leaves the room too fast for me to formulate a sentence so I sit and mull over what has happened. It will not be like before, we have those elements but mixed with something new. I expected to fear that, but found myself excited instead. Thomas returns with a pile of clothes and sets them by me but i make no move to get them. I have only just gained some warmth and even though sitting in wet-ish clothes will be worse, I can't make myself move.

“Can you sit with me please? For a bit, then you can use your bed. I've imposed too much so the sofa is fine, thank you.” I watched him sit back in his chair and smile slightly. I missed all his little mannerisms, how he immediately sets his arm out ready to tap if he needs to. How his hair flicks down. I decide I much prefer his messy hair than neat. There is a softness to his features now that wasn't there when I first saw him tonight. He also looks tired and I consider that I should have picked a better time. Thomas is too kind to comment on that fact.

“You are not imposing Wadsworth. I will happily sit with you all night if you wish and thank you for coming. Albeit the timing is bad, you could have waited for better weather to prevent any illness but- I'm glad you came. I wanted to see you but I thought I was a coward and didn't want to face you if you didn't want to see me.”

His words hit me like a knife in the gut. We were both afraid, both controlled by our own insecurities that we both nearly never got to this stage. It is laughable at how ironic it was. Thomas and I were both convinced the other would not want to see us.

“You are right, we do need to be better,” I say and he looks over at me, “tomorrow, weather permitted, would you like to go to breakfast with me?”

“I'll make breakfast and if weather permits I'd be delighted to go to lunch with you.” Thomas tries to stifle a yawn and I ignore the tug of uneasiness that is screaming. This is too easy. Instead I lean my head back and revel in it, commit Thomas's adorable yawn to memory and agree to tomorrow's plans.

“You should go to bed Cresswell, we seem to have a long day planned tomorrow and i need to get out of my wet clothes.”

“Do I need to reiterate my method of warmth?” He asks.

“Need I reiterate what a scoundrel you are?”

“Yes, I enjoy your slight blush when you say it.”

“Goodnight Thomas.”

He stands and I watch him stretch slightly, walk so that he is facing me. Then he reaches and presses a kiss to my temple. “Goodnight Audrey Rose.”

The kiss lingers, a phantom touch that stays with me all night. Warms me enough to hold onto the hope that Thomas and I will be okay. Our spark will reignite just as, if not more, intensely than before.

@fangirling-again @kittycat2187 @goatahoan @city-of-fae @the-hoofflepooff @ink-insomnia @purplecreatorhorsewagon @boredbookwormgirl @goddess-of-writing-wars @lovecakeandmore @yikesitsmaddie @loveyatopluto @bookscressworth @androgynousdeputylawyershoe @fandomtakeover @throneoftsc

#sjtr #hpd #efh #ctd #btdp #cressworth #audrey rose wadsworth #thomas cresswell #thomas #audrey rose #wadsworth #cresswell #kerri maniscalco #i have just finished kingdom of the wicked and im making the wise decision to re-read efh and then ctd #how you get the girl

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itsjustmyfantasyroom · 3 years

Text

King

For @thatesqcrush Holiday B!ngo: Naughty or Nice.

Pairing: Nevada Ramirez x reader

Square: Sliver and Gold

WC: 2578

Warnings: Pure filth and smut. Rough sex and a bossy Nevada. Excuse any mistakes.

Enjoy x

“I knew Aaron was a tight ass but come on Renee- the Heights? He does know he can claim it back on Tax under team bonding right”

“Somehow I think the tax man would work out that team bonding in December is code for Christmas party and Y/N come on don’t act like, it was on the top 10 list for up and coming night clubs- And don’t speak about Aaron that way” Renee scoffed at you

“Don’t speak about him that way?” you burst out laughing “Just cause you want to get in his pants- you might be in for a chance tonight with all the cheap alcohol in a dirty night club” you stuck your tongue out at her before you both burst out laughing.

Your taxi pulled up behind a black SUV in front of the destination night club in the Heights for your work Christmas party. You never came to this part of town often, not that you were a snob- but nothing attracted you to this area before. When you had been told about the Christmas party being in a dark and dingy night club you rolled your eyes and thought about the open bar. As you stepped out of the cab onto the curb, Renee following close behind, you pulled out your curly hair that had gotten caught in your gold large hooped earring, making your way to the bouncer to show him your id.

You and Renee made your way into the night club to find the rest of your work friends. You passed a small cloak room, you and Renee both checked in your over coats. As you waited for Renee, you adjusted the very thin straps on your sliver slip dress, running your hands over the squinted dress to flatten it on your thighs. You both walked into the main dance floor area, the beat of the music so loud you pulled a face crinkling your nose.

You hadn’t seen him, but he saw you. His eyes narrowing at you as you walked across the dance floor. The disco lights reflecting off your sliver dress almost making you look like a Christmas tree. From his balcony you could just see the tops of your breast’s and cleavage and how the dress just sat over your ass. His eyes scanned the thin straps resting on your shoulders, wondering what it would feel like running his fingers under them to pull them off you. As he watched you, he seen you turn catching a glimpse of you gold hoop earrings and he growled to himself feeling his cock twitch in his black jeans.

You walked into the private room walking around and greeting your other work mates. You worked in a pathology lab in midtown and although most of your work mates where science’s lovers or obsessed with anything pop culture they all knew how to drink- a lot. It was always a fun time when you all got together. You got a drink from the bar with Renee and started to move around the room talking with everyone, well trying. The music and base was so loud, that even being right next to someone’s ear they could hardly hear you.

You finally had enough when the base started to give you a head ache. You walked over to the bar and yelled at the bar man if he could turn down the speaker slightly,

“Sorry Ma’ma, that’s out of my control. You will have to speak to the owner”

“Where do I find them?”

“I can call to see if he can come down- give me a sec.”

You stood at the bar tapping your pointer finger on it watching the bar man on the phone. He looked over at you his eyes scanning down to your dress and then you lip read him saying yes. He hung up and walked back over to you,

“Mr Ramirez will be down in a moment, just wait here”

“Thanks”

You smelt the cigar and cheap leather before you saw the man behind the club. As Nevada walked down the small hall to the private room rounding the bar, your legs caught his eye’s first. He scanned from your black blocked heels, up to your knee caps, up your thighs to your breasts then he met your face looking down at your phone.

You had seen someone walking towards you, you looked up from your phone screen to dangerously delicious looking Latin man. Big gold chain around his neck, black shirt tucked into his black jeans. His shirt buttons undone just enough to see his under shirt and big gold chunky cross, a leather jacket over the top to complete his outfit. His face had just the right amount of facial hair and the most beautiful green eyes you had ever seen.

You took in a deep breath as he stopped in front of you with his hands on his hips. His gold ring shinning on his extremely long fingers. As your eyes ran up from his fingers, up his chest to his scruffy face and then his eyes, he smirked at you, with a sparkle in them.

“You have a problem?”

“What?” you put your hand to your ear

“You have a problem?” Nevada repeated himself

“I can’t hear you” you shook your head frowning

Nevada wrapped his long fingers around your wrist pulling you into him, his lips close to your ear, your body flush with his. His breath warm on your neck,

“I said do you have a problem” His voice was husky in your ear.

You turned your face so your cheek was resting on his, your lips now at his ear,

“It’s too loud in here. Can you turn it down- It’s giving me a head ache”

“What’s the magic word?” he growled into your ear.

“Excuse me?” You pulled away from his ear frowning.

Nevada raised an eye brown curling his finger in a come here motion. You lent back in,

“What’s the magic word?”

“Please”

“Please Nevada” His breath was hot in your ear again.

“Please Nevada” you repeated back

“Good girl” Nevada pulled away for a moment nodding at the barman who picked up the phone.

Nevada looked back at you almost like the big bad wolf about to eat little red riding hood. The music started to soften and you didn’t feel like your head was going to blow off.

“Thank you” you smiled at him

“Still have the head ache?” His hands back on his hips

“Ah yeah but-“

“Come with me” he barked at you.

You caught Renee’s eye sight pointing to Nevada’s back and she gave you a slight nod as you followed him out to the main dance floor. He made his way around the edge of the dance floor to a glass stair case leading up to his balcony that had two men standing at the end of it. They both nodded at you as you followed him up the stairs.

The stairs led to a medium size landing with a few two seater black leather couches and a glass coffee table the middle of them all, a Christmas tree in the corner. Nevada walked through a white frosted glass door with a green and red wreath hanging on it. You stopped in the door frame looking in at his black and sliver metal office table with a big black leather desk chair. Another smaller table with screens showing the club and filing cabinet’s along one wall and a window along the other.

“Did I tell you to stop there? Come here” Nevada looked over his shoulder walking to open his top drawer pulling out a white box.

“You’re very bossy” you shot back.

“Do you know who you’re talking too?” he narrowed his eyes at you throwing the white box on his desk.

“Nevada Ramirez, owner of this club” you shrugged your shoulders stepping towards his desk to get two pain killers from the box he threw on the desk.

“I’ am not just the owner of this club, I’ am king of the heights” he snapped, his voice rough “Do you always follow men you don’t know into their offices?”

“Only when they are royalty” you chuckled

Like a flash, Nevada was behind you his body pressed into yours. You let your body lean into his, your panties damping as soon as you felt his warm body on yours. His long fingers on his left hand slipping under where the straps of your dress started at your shoulder blade, brushing up your skin along the top of your shoulder to the side of your neck, running a finger along the base of your throat,

“You’re a cock tease aren’t you” Nevada’s mouth near your ear again “You go to clubs dressed like this-acting like a pequeña puta” you felt Nevada’s right hand start to slide up your thigh, the cold of his ring on your hot skin made you moan, his surprisingly soft hands making you shiver.

“I’ am no tease Mr Ramirez-I always finished what I start” You reached around behind you and cupped Nevada’s hardening cock through his jeans.

He growled into your ear and moved his fingers to grip your neck slightly, but not enough to cut your breath,

“Did I say you could touch that?” he grunted into your ear, the hand on your thigh now toying with the hem of your dress.

“You’re not telling me I can’t” Nevada’s grip tightened again slightly around your neck as he rolled his hips onto your hand “Are you sure someone of your stature can be seduced by some commoner like me”

Nevada’s chuckle was dark,

“We need to put that mouth to better use. Get on your knees Mami.” his hands were on your hips. Nevada spun you around quick, his eyes locked with yours, they were so hard and intense, his pupil's making his eyes look almost black,

"Didn't I say get on your knees" he reached down to undo his belt buckle followed by his jeans button.

"What's the magic word?" You ran your finger along his scruffy jaw. Like the flash he grabbed your wrist, you looked over at his long fingers wrapped around it and whimpered.

"Don't play with me" a smirk pulled to his face "I said, mi puta- get on your knees, me entiendes" Nevada pushed you down by your wrist till you were kneeling in front of him. You watched as he unzipped his fly pushing down his jeans, then reaching into his briefs to pull out his extremely hard member. He smirked again when he saw you licking your lips looking at it. Nevada wrapped his hand around it stroking himself, his pre-cum shinning in the dim light of the office.

"Wow" you huffed looking up at him through your eye lashes.

"Open that pretty mouth of yours and show me what else you can do it with"

You lent forward opening your mouth, resting your hands on Nevada's thighs taking him fully into your mouth. His hand came to the back of your head pushing you into him as he hit the back of your throat making you gag slightly, his other resting on your shoulder. You flattened you tongue running it up the underside of his cock, feeling the veins running along your tongue, giving the tip a roughish suck when you got to it.

"Ay Mami, just like that. You know how to suck good don't you" Nevada grunted out, his head falling forward.

As you worked on him with your tongue, you could feel how wet you were, needing to be touched. You moved one hand from his thigh to your boob, giving yourself a quick squeeze over your sliver dress before running your hand down to the hem to slip your hand into your panties.

Nevada tugged you off him by your hair a string of saliva connecting you,

"What do you think your doing?" His voice was low but rough. You removed your hand from your panties and looked up with red cheeks. Nevada tisked you and ran a finger down the side of your face,

"Does it turn you on having my cock in your mouth?"

"Yes" you cleared your throat

"Where else do you want it?" You looked up at him with your head tilted to the side "Tell me where else ahora"

"In me. I want you to fuck me" you whimpered at your own words giving away how turned on you were.

"Get up. Bend over the desk"

You all but jumped up walking to the table bending over it. You heard plastic sounds and you turned your head to see Nevada rolling on a condom. There was no gentleness with him, it was straight to the point, you haven't even kissed.

You felt his fingers brush up both thighs lifting your dress over your hips. He hooked his fingers into the waist of your panties and pushed them down, they fell to your ankles. Nevada put his hand between your shoulder blades and pushed you down so you were lying flat on his desk, your cheek resting on the cool of the table.

"Ready to finish what you started?" You felt him run his length over your opening making you moan load.

"Yes Mr Ramirez"

Nevada's head fell forward biting his lip as he slide into you snapping his hips bottoming out. He grunted and you moaned. Nevada gave you a moment to adjust to his size. One of his hands moved to your hip the other balling a fist in your hair as he started to pound into you hard and fast. Skin slapping skin filled the room, his table and everything on his rattling. Nevada tugged on your hair lifting your head up slightly,

"You feel so good mi puta, so tight. Maybe you aren't a cock tease being this tight- your going to be screaming my name soon Mami" Nevada grunted out getting breathless.

His dirty talk made you moan loud pushing your hips back into him with his thrusts. He pushed your head back down on the table, the hand from your hip finding your sensitive pearl. Rolling it between his pointer finger and thumb. Your heart was pounding in your ears, the fire in your gut about to burst through you.

"I ‘am going to come" you screamed. You pushed your hips back as he rolled your clit "Nevada" you screamed your whole body on fire as your release completely took over raging through you.

The way you gripped Nevada as you came was like he had never been before. His balls tensed when he thrusted into you so hard the desk moved slightly and he came in the condom, still moving his hips slowly till he was completely done.

He pulled out of you ridding himself of the condom and fixing himself away, while you tried to catch your breath, pulling up your panties, fixing your sliver dress, adjusting your gold earrings and flattening your hair where Nevada's hand had been.

You stood up and locked eyes with him. He walked over putting his hand on your cheek kissing you deeply his other hand squeezing your ass over your sliver dress.

"I better get back to the party" you said still breathless. You turned away from him and started to walk out the door "Merry Christmas King Ramirez"

Tags: @thatesqcrush @beccabarba @the-baby-bookworm @permanentlydizzy @detective-giggles

#thatesqcrush holiday bingo #nevada ramirez #nevada ramirez x reader #nevada ramirez smut

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untaemedqueen · 4 years

Text

The Lions Den

Mafia!Yoongi x Wife!Hyunah

Genre: Mafia!AU, Smut, Fluff, Angst

Chapter 12.

Warnings: Smut, Blood, Guns, Knives, Excessive Cursing, Excessive Alcohol Intake, Smoking (Cigarettes and Cigars), Mental Health Issues

Warnings In This Chapter: Sub!Yoongi, Dom!Hyunah, Mistress Kink, Pain Kink, Degradation, Cigarette Ashing, Begging, Use Of A Cock Ring, Edging, Mentions Of A Safeword, Fellatio, Riding, Dry Orgasm, Impreg Kink (Sorta), Multiple Orgasms, Blood, Gorey Descriptions, Cut Body Parts

A/N: Shout out to @xjoonchildx and @ladyartemesia for beta-ing this and rooting me on

TagList- @ayyyocee, @mysugabear03, @wisebtsgot7prune, @imaforeigner, @yeonkiminnie, @stories1907, @ppersonna, @brilee64, @gooplibrary, @vivpurple7, @xjoonchildx, @brightwingr5, @yaniposts22, @rjsmochii, @taeslittletiger, @pjmcth, @bts-chub, @kpoppingthempills, @kim-ji-hyeons-world, @jikooksgirl19, @yoong-i, @ruinsofangels, @absolutefantrash, @chiminies-noona, @eclectically-esoteric, @simplybree

Sequel to The Bird Cage

Mirrors are a good way of reflecting. A good way to stare deep inside yourself and see who you really are. See what has made you become the person you are.

Yoongi stares at the mirror for hours at a time. Just like today.

His fingers traipse up and down the long scar on his face as he stares at his reflection.

He can barely remember how he got it, he feels like he's had it for as long as he can remember.

He can barely feel through the gnarled skin as he touches it. It's been a long time since he's seen his unmarred face. When this happened to him he was still living in Daegu with Taehyung by his side.

They roamed the street. The worst of their kind. When Jimin found them it seemed to just make sense. For Yoongi, anyway.

A brotherhood. A family. God, he had gone his whole life without knowing what that was. He used to believe he was the devil incarnate. Thinking everything he had done was due to something wrong inside of him.

But Jimin helped him. Helped him to change his anger into something more constructive.

He had been given responsibilities then. The heavy load of moving illegal guns and shipments all on him. And, he found pride in that. He was worth something because of Jimin. He owed him his everything.

He found camaraderie. He found his place in a world so dark that it no longer begged the question when would light ever come?

Finding himself meant finding his heart. Somewhere along the lines they became blurred. He had countless bodies drifting in and out of the large mansion he once lived in with his brothers.

As he touches his scar, he lets out a gentle snort. He remembers when he saw Y/N for the first time. He had been sleeping with Hyunah every so often even back then but Y/N now she was something new.

He can remember how appealing he found her. He wanted her. He wondered if he could ask Jimin for her, quite like Taehyung did with Hyejin. But, it wasn't in the cards. Literally.

He and Hyunah were together one night and she read him his fortune. Y/N was not for him, but Hyunah was.

There lied the problem then. This gorgeously fierce married woman was his destiny and he had to patiently wait for her husband to die. It was harrowing.

Gut wrenching even. But, in the end he had her. And oh, how he adores her.

Truly destiny was shining upon him.

She taught him and continues to teach him.

Teaches him to free himself from all of his burdens. All of his chains. And, his own mind.

Lighting a cigarette his fingers trail to the back of his neck. Inhaling deeply, his eyes flutter shut as he feels the scarred skin. He can feel the olive branches and the incredible detail.

Exhaling the toxic smoke, he can hear the sound of heels behind him. The noise was once off putting but now it turns his bones to jello.

"Yoongi?" Hyunah's voice is gentle as her hands wrap around his bare torso.

Her lips glide over his scar and he lets out a small sigh at the feeling.

"Hmm." He whispers as a hand trails lower. She gropes his crotch roughly earning a groan from him as his cigarette dangles from his lips.

"Do you need to be distracted? Are you caught up in your demons again?" Her voice is filled with taunting notions riddling him useless.

He gives a small nod with a whine, his head lolling back onto her shoulder. Taking the cigarette from his lips, she puts it in her own parted lips before squeezing his balls harder.

“Let me hear you say it, darling. Let me hear it.”

His body goes stiff as his mouth opens. Adoring the painful pleasure his wife gives to him so freely.

“Yes, Mistress. I need it. I need to be distracted, please.”

She hums into his ear, tugging him by the belt towards their large bed. Dripping with power and allure, he finds his cock hardening at the thought of being dominated by his wife.

It takes a big man to admit he needs distracting. And, it takes an even bigger man to give his pride away in times of sexual need to his woman who transports him onto a different plane.

She steps in front of him. His eyes on her low cut gown before being shoved backwards onto the bed. Hitting the pillows, he watches her inhale from his cigarette. His mouth opens slightly as she narrows her eyes down at him.

God, she was so good at making him feel feeble and small. So good at taking away his thoughts and bringing him to a state of complete need.

She starts to undress in front of him. Slowly dragging down the expensive fabric of her gown and he finds himself enraptured by the sections of skin she begins to show. His hand reaches up to touch her and the sharp breath she takes between her teeth has him recoiling in seconds.

“Did I say you could touch?” The sharpness of her voice makes it difficult for him to swallow.

“No, Mistress. I’m sorry. I’ll behave.” She scoffs at his words gently before raising her heeled foot and pressing it into his chest.

Groaning at the sharp twinge of pain as her pointed heel digs into his sternum, he can’t help but feel his cock twitch and grow with need in his briefs.

“Looks like you, young man, need to learn some manners.” She whispers before discarding her dress from her body.

The black lace bodice she adorns hugs her body perfectly, thrusting her large breasts up to the heavens as she ashes her cigarette on the floor.

“Yes. Fuck yes.” Yoongi gasps as she digs her heel deeper into his chest.

Laying back fully he submits himself willingly to her. Anything and everything she wants, he would more than happily provide.

“What should I do for you today? Hmm? Should I make you ravage me till you’re crying to cum? Should I fuck your tight little hole until you beg for release?” She teases before ashing on his briefs.

His eyes roll back as she replaces her foot on his chest with her hand. She gives soothing strokes before burning out the cigarette on the floor.

“Anything Mistress. Please.” Yoongi can barely recognize his own voice, so needy and whimpering. But, that’s when he’s the best. When he no longer feels like himself.

She turns her nose up at his words before walking away and he can feel his need for her growing as he stares at the globes of her ass as they jiggle. She leans against the bureau of bedroom treasures before opening the double doors wide.

“I think you need some good old fashioned edging.” She says as she grabs the tightest cock ring from the loop on the wall.

He would normally protest but with all this Im business lately, all this stress, he wants to be so frustrated.

Licking his lips, he nods to her as he leans up on his elbows. She watches him stew and fester for a few minutes, letting his eyes roam over her body. She feels powerful off of his love. If there was one thing about Lee Hyunah, she loves the human body and the power you can have by taking others' power away.

She prowls over slowly, relishing in the way he palms at his fully erect cock. She relishes in the whine he gives as she straddles him.

“Baby.” She whispers in his ear and his eyes are trained on her breasts as she bends down.

“Y-Yes Mistress.” He mewls as she tugs his hair roughly.

“Mistress loves you.” He sighs gratefully, eyes squeezing shut at the pain as his tongue licks at his lips.

“Thank you, Mistress. Thank you for loving me. I don’t deserve it.” He mumbles as she kisses down his face. Stopping at the gnarled scar before licking it.

He shivers beneath her, hands gripping at the bedsheets knowing better than to touch without being told to.

“Down, baby.” She instructs and his elbows cave in on the mattress within seconds of her instruction.

She kisses down his chest, taking it slow where his cigarette burns and his large scar is that Y/N so dutifully stitched up many years ago. His gasps and groans make her smirk against his skin.

It’s powerful, isn’t it? The bond between two people when you truly just let things be. He trusts her completely, and in turn she is his biggest failsafe.

“Tell me your safeword and we can play.” She says as she hooks two fingers into the band of his briefs.

He clears his throat, ripping his eyes away from her breasts to look at her.

“Feather.” He whispers.

Snapping the band back to him, he grits his teeth as her lips explore his lower half. Her teeth nip gently at the skin above his underwear and he finds it difficult to keep his ass planted on the bed.

She tugs down his briefs roughly, raising an eyebrow at how angry red the mushroom tip is today. He must really need to be distracted.

His cock is bigger than her late husband, slightly curved with pretty rose veins that litter the long length. He was the perfect thickness. He was perfect, in all truthfulness. Everything about him was made for her. Destiny smiled upon them in this lifetime.

She kisses down his long length earnings gasps and whimpers. His eyes fall shut once more, adoring her plush lips against his heated member.

“Thank you Mistress. Thank you for touching me.” He gasps out as her sharp nails dig into the taut skin of his thighs.

Precum beads mercilessly at the bulbous tip, Hyunah watches with patient eyes as it slowly begins to glide down the considerable length.

“Look at how much of a fucking baby you are. I haven’t even really touched you and you’re begging to release.” Her finger picks up the precum before entering the single digit into her mouth.

Yoongi’s hips thrust upward at her sensual action, watching how her tongue swirls around her finger with precision.

“Jesus. Please, Mistress. I’m so fucking hard. Please touch me more.” She clicks her teeth at his words before grasping his face in her hand. Smushing his cheeks as her nails dig into his skin.

“You get what I give and you’ll appreciate it. Do you understand me?” With a feeble whimper he nods to her.

She was painfully good at the long game. She has gone hours with him, teasing and turning his cock purple before even letting him orgasm once. And, if he kept it up today, it would be a repeat if he didn’t get his head on straight.

Sliding the cock ring on, he takes in a sharp breath at the tightness. She strokes his cock once, twice, three times just to hear her name tumble from his perfect lips before stopping.

“You had bad thoughts today, didn’t you Yoongi? That’s why you want to be punished?” His wife asks as she points to the headboard.

Scrambling up to the top of the bed, he curses beneath his breath. Of course, she would know.

“Yes.” He admits as he situates himself as she wants.

“And what did you think of that got you in this mournful mood?” She asks, straddling his thigh.

In the short amount of time it took for him to get to the top of the bed, her pussy was already unsheathed from her lace panties. Gleaming wet in the daylit master bedroom. She begins to ride his thigh, bottom lip purchasing between her teeth.

God, she’s a fucking masterpiece. He can feel his cock throbbing harsher with the cock ring. Begging to be touched, to find any relief at all.

“I saw Y/N this morning.” He whispers nervously.

She hums to him as she brushes her hair over her shoulders. His eyes fall to her arousal on his thigh and he flexes his muscles just to hear a wanton gasp of approval from his wife.

“You did?” She asks as she closes her eyes, losing herself in the pleasure.

“Yeah. She had on that nightgown. The one I like. With the- fuck.” He groans out as his wife strips himself of her corset.

Her breasts bounce out, free from the leather and he whines as her nipples begin to harden in the chilly air of their home.

“Mistress, may I? Please? Your tits are so beautiful.” He begs her, his eyes turning as big as saucers as he looks up at her.

“Go ahead, baby.”

His arms wrap around her back quickly, tugging her roughly to his body. Snaking his tongue out, he runs circles around her areola before encasing her stiff peaked nipple with his lips. He groans loudly as his hands grip at her flesh.

Her scent is vanilla and lavender and it brings him comfort smelling it. She was his home and he knew it all too well.

“Good boy.” She moans gently as he abandons one breast for the other. She rocks quicker against his thigh, chasing her own high as his cock leaks more precum in its forsaken state. Her nails run down his chest, leaving bright red lines in their wake.

“You’re so gorgeous Mistress. Thank you for using me.” He whispers out.

“Why am I using you, baby? Tell Mistress.”

“Because I don’t deserve to be touched or pleased. I don’t deserve to feel your beautiful cunt around me for having such thoughts today.” He chokes out as she shoves him back against the headboard. His mouth gives an audible pop as he is ripped away from her breast.

He curses gently as he watches her reach the peak of her pleasure. Adoring the small simpers and whines she gives out before her hips stutter. He pulls her hips roughly, earning a loud moan as she orgasms. Her body undulates in his grasp as she rides out her pleasure.

He grits his teeth as his cock throbs. The pain becoming almost unbearable.

“So you saw Y/N today.” Hyunah says as she hops off of his thigh and he sighs.

He was always truthful with his wife. He didn’t love Y/N, of course. His wife had his heart and more, but yet there was still this pressing attraction to the woman who he has known for years.

“Yes. And she was wearing that nightgown.” Hyunah hums as she inhales from her cigarette.

“So your prick got hard because the pretty girl was wearing a nice dress? Hmm?” She mocks and his cheeks blush pink at her degradation.

“I’m sorry Mistress.” He murmurs as she spits on his cock.

“It’s because you love power. You love a woman that can hold their own and you’re just a simpering little man that needs to be punished. Isn’t that right?” He nods fervently to his wife as she presses the cigarette to his lips.

She lets the cigarette dangle as she bows down. Her tongue licks a circle around the head of his cock and his back smacks into the headboard at her action.

“Oh, fuck. You suck my cock so well. Thank you Mistress.” He whines before inhaling.

“Tell me why you like to see the powerful woman you work for.” She taunts as she bows her head down on him. Working assiduously on his cock, she smacks his inner thigh as he finds it difficult to concentrate on any words.

“She just...fuck, baby.” He whines as he cards his fingers through her long hair.

Smacking his hand away from her head, he closes his eyes before pulling the cigarette from his lips. Her mouth was so wet and warm on him, tears pool in her eyes as she deepthroats his large cock.

“You know me. You know I only love you baby.” He murmurs and he knows it’s the wrong answer as she pulls off of him. He groans loudly in frustration as his pleasure is ebbed away.

“I know you do. I don’t want those words. Tell me or I’ll leave you here like this.” He scoffs gently before nodding as his wife bends back down.

“She just looked pretty and soft in the nightgown. She’s pregnant again and I-” Hyunah lets her teeth graze the long length of his cock and he shivers mid sentence.

Pulling off of him, she straddles him fully before slowly sliding down on his cock. “God, your pussy feels so fucking good Mistress. Thank you for fucking me.” He groans out as she stills on top of him.

“That's what it is? You like to see your boss all pregnant and still so powerful?” His cock throbs within her and she raises her eyebrows impressed.

“Can we stop talking about it? You know I’m faithful to you and only you. I’m sorry I had those thoughts… I need to be punished, baby.” He whines out as he ashes out the cigarette. His hands find their place on her hips as she begins to bounce on his cock.

He watches her breasts sway with each bounce. Watching how her mouth opens at the pleasure of being filled so nicely with his large cock.

He could feel his pleasure coming too. Feeling his cock thickening and throbbing as he throws his head back with a loud moan.

“I know you’re faithful, baby. Or else you wouldn't have a cock or balls left. But, you shouldn’t be ashamed of finding your boss attractive. The human body is so beautiful. Like now, I’m going to make you cum and you’re going to cry. And, it's going to be beautiful. ” She whispers in his ear as she presses her breasts to his chest.

His fingers grip harder at her skin as she rides his cock. His eyes wander to the place where they’re joined and he bites his bottom lip at how much of his wifes arousal is on his cock. How slick and messy she was for him. His neck veins jut out as he swallows thicky, savoring this pleasurable pain.

His cock was so relentlessly hard, begging to cum. She nips at the skin of his neck, adoring the way he holds her closer as he moans her name. He becomes lost in the sensual act, forgetting his role as submissive and just teetering on the edge of pleasure.

“I’m going to cum. Fuck. Baby, please let me. I’m dying.” He begs of her and she pulls off of him. He sobs loudly at the loss, his head tilting and eyes shutting as his orgasm slips away from him.

“You find her so attractive when she’s pregnant because you can’t help but think about how Jimin drilled that child into her cunt, don’t you? You would love to have the balls to be that confident.” He wipes at his cheeks before clearing his throat.

It’s true. He knows it. His wife certainly knows it.

She slaps his cock, earning his eyes on hers as he stares into her black irises.

“Yes.” He whispers.

“But you're not that confident. What are you?” She asks as she slides back down on his cock.

With a stunted gasp, his hands reach up for her breasts and she allows it. She coos gently as she wipes his cheeks as more tears fall.

“I’m just your weak baby. Just want my Mistress to fuck me good and make me beg for it.” He whispers and she hums to him.

Kissing him hard, she begins to bounce on his cock again. Their tongues sliding over one anothers and he can taste alcohol on her tongue. Biting his bottom lip harshly, she whimpers as he pinches and rolls her nipples between his fingertips.

“You’re such a good boy. Your cock fills me so nicely.” She moans out as her head lolls back.

His hips lift meeting her every bounce and he takes pleasure in the way her thighs quiver. She was close to her next orgasm and he wants nothing but to please her. He fucks up into her faster, adoring her gasps and hearing his name from her lips.

“Please Mistress, please say my name again. Let me hear you say my name.” He begs as he pulls her close. Her arms wrap around his neck and his cock shudders within her as her ragged breath fans over his ear.

“Yoongi.” She whispers before biting down on his earlobe.

Without warning he orgasms. Groaning loudly in her ear as his hips still. It doesn’t confuse him anymore but it still hurts. Dry orgasms were his worst form of punishment and his eyes well up with tears as the short pleasure turns into sharp shooting pain.

“Fuck. Your cock is so amazing. Just a pretty little toy for your Mistress to get off on.”

“Y-Yes Mistress. Just your little sextoy.” He chokes out as tears streak over his cheeks.

Rolling her hips, his cock fills every part of her and she sighs wantonly as her pleasure builds. Even in his pain, he adores her. Adores how her chest heaves towards him as she lets out small squeaks and moans.

“I’m going to cum on your big cock, baby. Wouldn’t that be so nice? To have your Mistress cum all over you?” He nods fervently as she tugs at his hair.

“Yes. Please, please cum on my cock. Show me how much you love your toy.”

“Such a good boy.” She praises and his heart swells at the compliment.

She orgasms again, her cunt tightening and milking his cock as she whines out his name.

She caresses his face as she goes through her pleasure. Ears ringing with white noise as she watches him bite down on his bottom lip.

“Would you let me give you a baby, Mistress? Would you?” He asks as she hops off of him.

Taking off the cock ring, he chokes on a gasp as the blood rushes back into his cock. He preens as she strokes him, the sensitivity almost making him scream out his safeword.

“Of course I would, baby.” They both knew that Hyunah couldn’t- and wouldn’t have anymore kids. But it wasn’t about really wanting a baby for Yoongi. It was about “wanting to be man enough to do it.” He envied Jimin sometimes. He always found it easy to get what he wants and being man enough to take it.

Although his persona was one to be rivaled with, Yoongi was just feeble. Needing to be controlled and begging to be distracted.

“You know your Mistress would let you put a baby inside of her. Let you get me knocked up and rely on you to take care of me.” He nods at her words as she lays back. Her legs spread for him and he jumps at the chance to situate himself inside them.

He prods at her entrance, tongue licking over her neck as he inched his way inside. He gasps at her tightness, burying his face in her neck as he bucks into her with all of his strength.

“Yeah? You’d let me get you real big with my baby and make me take care of you? I’d wait on you hand and foot. Make you know how great of a man I am.” He mumbles through gritted teeth.

Her nails rake down his back as she moans his name. He fucks her with force, almost sending her body down the bed if he didn’t have a good grasp on her.

“I’m your little bitch with a big, fat cock but if I got you pregnant you’d need me to take care of you. You’d beg me to help you.” He seethes out and she screams in pleasure as he presses her knees to her chest.

“You let my cock get so hard that it’s painful Mistress. Fuck, your pussy feels so good!” He whines as she kisses over his scar.

“You’re such a good boy for me, you deserve to cum a big load in my pussy.”

“Yeah, shit. I love pleasing you, Mistress. I love being so good for you.” His cock thickens and throbs with each thrust and he finds himself sobbing again. He pleases her? If that’s the case it’s tenfold for him.

His body wracks with pleasure. White hot and nerve tingling pleasure courses through him as he finds himself close to his release.

“Hyunah. Fuck. I love you. I love you so much baby. Christ!” He sobs out as he feels his balls tighten.

“I love you too, baby.” She whispers before running her fingers through his hair.

With a loud groan, he orgasms. He hugs her tightly to his body as ropes of cum paint her inner walls.

“Yes.” He whines loudly before sighing. It seems to be never ending, the amount of cum he lets out.

Finally, he lifts off of his wife before pulling out of her gently. With a hum, she closes her legs and he smirks at her as she grabs two cigarettes off of the bedside table.

He lights them for them before leaning back against the headboard. “Thanks, baby. I needed that.” He murmurs as he slings his arm over her shoulder. Her fingers glide over the large scar on his stomach and he looks down before putting his head back.

“You know how much I love you, right?” He asks as his thumb rubs comforting circles on her shoulder. She smiles before nodding and pressing her bare body into his side.

“I know. I love you too.” He closes his eyes as he pulls from his cigarette.

“You’ve been having a rough week. With all of the Im stuff and everything and I know you need to be distracted.” His wife says as she ties her hair up into a bun.

He clears his throat before looking out the large windows of their shared home.

“Something is looming around here. A dark spirit. An aura black as coal. And, we need to be ready when it wants to come and shroud us all.” Hyunah whispers as she stares off into the distance. Her voice was her own and yet completely disembodied.

He’s gotten used to it by now. Everything that she predicts, everything she sees always rings true. With a sigh, he buries his face into her neck.

“Something is coming.” She whispers.

He wasn’t sure when he drifted off to sleep. When he awoke from his nap, he was groggy and more tired than when he fell out. His wife wasn’t in the bed with him and it was dark outside already.

“Mr. Min, sir.” That voice, the voice of death.

Rolling his eyes, he leans across the bed before grabbing a cigarette and packing it against the table.

“What Jeeves?” He mocks Hyunah’s loyal butler.

“It’s Ohshin, sir.” He always has to tell Yoongi his real name as if he hasn’t learned it by now. He was too old and decrepit to understand his humor, or so he thinks.

“Yeah. I’m aware. What do you want?” He asks, lighting his cigarette and watching the white smoke lazily rise towards the ceiling.

“You have a package. Someone left it on the doorstep for you. No return to sender.” The old man says and Yoongi nods before waving him out of the room.

Entering the grand kitchen, he takes in his older wife as she stares at the large box on the granite countertop.

“What’s the matter, babe?” He questions before yawning loudly.

She doesn’t acknowledge him as she stares at the white cardboard.

“This box is filled with pain and misery. I can hear...screaming, can feel blood splattering.” He takes in her shaking hand as she lifts it to pull from her cigarette.

“Hey...Hey.” He whispers comfortingly as he walks around the counter to hold her.

“I can feel the sorrow. The confusion. Something horrible is in this box.” She seethes through her teeth and Yoongi can sense her nerves.

He rubs comforting circles on her bare back as he kisses her cheek. He can feel her body trembling. His eyes flit to the box before tilting his head.

“Jeeves!” He calls loudly to the empty kitchen and he waits patiently as he coddles his wife to his side.

“Sir.”

“Get my wife a glass of wine and bring it out to the patio.” He says before kissing her temple. She looks over at him as her eyes become glassy.

“I can feel the pain.” She whispers, tapering off and broken at the end.

“Okay, baby… Alright.” He whispers gently.

Taking her hand, he leads her to the back patio before opening the door. “Just smoke a cigarette. Drink the wine and relax. Alright? I’ll get rid of the box.” He tells her before pecking her lips gently.

She gives a shell shocked nod. Her legs are trembling as she takes small steps to the chaise lounge beneath the beige canopy. He waits for her butler to hand her the glass of wine and he nods to Ohshin to stay outside with her.

He shoves the box, pulling his gun out from the back of his waistband. It makes no movement. There’s no smell. It’s just a white cardboard box.

He lights a cigarette before opening the flaps of the box. He shivers in the eerie quietness of the house before peaking into the box.

“Oh Christ!” He yells as he backs up.

A hand with no fingers and a scalp of hair sit prettily inside the box.

Yoongi’s stomach rolls and he closes the box quickly. Pressing both of his hands to the counter, his body heaves forward. He tucks his head between his arms as he takes a deep breath.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” He mumbles before cracking his neck.

“What is it?” He hears from the patio. His head lifts quickly before grabbing the box off of the counter and angling his face away from it.

“Just stay inside and don’t go out. Do you hear me?” He asks his wife as he takes off towards the entryway of their home.

“Baby?” His wife calls confused.

“I have to speak with Jimin. Stay inside, babe.” He repeats before ripping open the door and heading towards the other mansion.

#the lions den #btscreatorscorner #thebtswritersclub #btswritingcafe #mafia!au #bts smut #mafia!yoongi #mafia!jimin

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sanghyukstattoos · 4 years

Text

Under the covers

Characters: Kim Youngbin x Reader

Genre: Fluff, smut (unprotected sex, fingering, cockwarming)

Words: 1656

Summary: It’s raining and pouring like crazy outside but the two of you are inside and with the weather long forgotten, you began to share stories, your boyfriend delivering each one with a sense of affection and tenderness to his love for you.

A/N: To Blue~~ who requested this, its finally here!!! I’m happy with the way this fic turned out and I hope you feel the same way, so I can’t wait to hear your response!

Youngbin in this gif with his red hair- Personally, I think he looks good with black- coloured hair but he said that he loves red and he can also pull it off so this gif has me tattered~~~

A small "oo" left your mouth as your eyes widened and eyebrows raised at the sound of distant thunder. Youngbin, to your right found your reaction adorable, his eyes crinkling as he covered his mouth, laughter escaping his shaking body anyways. You were both lying under the covers, resting on your backs trying to get some sleep for tomorrow's day but the weather made it impossible to do so.

The moment you closed your eyes, the sky would rumble and flashes of lightning would strike, its reflection casting a momentary glare inside your room. Neither of you were terrified of the almost accurate predictions that Alexa would give of 'Tonight's forecast' because it gave you a good chance to share stories. A fair share of workload was placed upon you two, the words flowing easily from your mouth, into the warm comfort of the room.

During one of your stories, he placed a hand on the small of your back and pulled you closer to him so that you were now face to face with him. In the background, the leaves rustled as the wind picked up its pace, a stark contrast to the calm speed it had trotted at earlier. Staring into his eyes, you asked,

"When is it going to stop, you think?"

"It should probably end in about half an hour but I don't know, I'm not the weather reporter", he replied causing a fit of giggles to erupt from you.

"I'm not that tired though, are you?"

"No, but we can do something"

"What?"

"Let's make love" he said, a hand snaking up to your jaw, gently connecting your lips while the other caught the back of your leg, pulling it over his. Your body was pressed against him and you felt yourself clench, the wetness beginning to pool around your panties making you wonder why you wore them in the first place. No bra caused your perky nipples to poke against his clothed chest, his cock now semi- erect. Moving against your lips, he pulled back waiting for your confirmation, knowing that even if he was already half hard, it wouldn't matter if you didn't want to do it.

Nodding your head in agreement, you snaked a hand into the waistband of his joggers, grabbing his cock and stroking it in slow, languid motions eliciting a strangled moan from him. Taking that as your agreement, he maneuvered your joggers off your legs and shirt of your chest leaving you naked while he was still completely dressed. A part of you wanted his clothes off of him but it was hot being naked while he was still fully dressed. Despite this thought, you pulled his joggers down and lifted his shirt up which he took off, letting his now erect cock spring free, bouncing against his stomach.

Pressing a soft kiss to your lips, he shifted your positions so that his torso now covered your frame, hands on either side of your chest. You jolted as his warm hands touched your stomach, moving upwards till he grasped your breasts in his palm, gently tracing the swells and squeezing the flesh in his grasp. Gasping against his mouth, you giggled, watching him watch as your back arched off the bed, shimmying the material over your head to reveal your breasts and clothed pussy.

HIs eyes lingered on your torso, fingers dancing as they entered your panty, rubbing your folds as the juices coated his fingers. He could also feel the wet stain your wetness had created against his hand, as he rubbed your clit in circles, teasing your entrance with the tip of his fingers. Staring back at you, he penetrated your entrance with his fingers causing you to let out a choked moan into his mouth. Shuddering as his digits plunged into your heat knuckles-deep, his thumb caressed circles into your clit.

His eyes were soft as he stared at your frame writhing in pleasure under his, letting out moans that resonated against the muffled sounds of the storm outside. You whined as his pace slowed down, leaving your aching pussy and grabbing your thigh, he bought it over your waist and slipped into you causing you to wrap your arms around him and hide in the crook of his neck.

He placed fluttering kisses along the nape of your neck and back, drawing each one out slowly till he started to thrust inside of you. You could feel his length throb causing you to clench, the tip of his cock touching your womb and filling you whole. Bottoming out, he kneaded your flesh, using it as leverage to quicken his pace, drawing out moans from the both of you. Snapping his hips against yours, the sound of his balls slapping against your pussy filled the room, choked moans leaving your lips.

You looked at him and met his eyes, shaking under the intensity of his thrusts. Your breasts shook, feeling his hands on your ass rubbing the flesh to soothe it from his grip earlier. His hips consistently thrusted into you, filling your wet hole with his cock that leaked and lubed the inside of your pussy. He loved you and there was nothing more beautiful than tracing the swells of your body, admiring the lines of the curves every time you were naked in front of him. You aroused, was possibly one of the hottest happenings he ever knew, ramping up his desire to feel you and pleasure you, to watch you moan and cry out at his touch. Broken moans left your mouth and he knew that you were closer, stroking your cheek as he held you in his arms, ready to come.

A beautiful sight, he slowed down his pace as he came into you, watching your expression turn to desperation, chasing your high. Curling your toes as you felt warm fluids enter your pussy, you clenched around him and gripped his shoulders, pressing a kiss to his neck as his hand shifted from your cheek to the back or your head as you neared your orgasm. Biting your lip, he sped up his thrusts causing you to come at the snap of his hips against yours, your cum flowing around his cock and onto your inner thighs as he slipped out of you.

Leaning over you, he pulled out a pack of wet wipes, bringing your leg over his hips so that he could easily access the mess on your thighs. Running your hands through his hair, he wiped your cum- stained legs, throwing the used wipe in the bin. Caressing the back of your thighs, he gently patted your butt, pulling you over him so that you were now rested on top of him. Legs on either side of his hips, you encircled his neck whispering a little, "Love you" in his ear to which he replied, "I love you too baby". A blush rising to your cheeks, you could see the pinkish tint to his as well, chucking as a smile lit his face, content that his baby was happy.

You were both under the blankets, feeling warm and so you threw them off with a kick, breathing as you felt the cold air hit your legs. Surprised, Youngbin took a peek confused at the sudden chill and seeing his reaction made you smile. He wrapped his legs around yours as the two of you laid there, closing your eyes at the blissful feeling that overcame you. He softly played with the strands of your hair, running his fingers through the ends and gently ghosting his fingers on your back. ‘’I have an idea’’ he spoke, catching your attention making you raise an eyebrow, motioning for him to continue. ‘’It requires us to go to the bathroom’’ he followed as his eyes rested on the bathroom door and you looked over replying, ‘’That’s a really long way from where we are right now’’.

You rested your head on his chest as he let out a laugh, tiredness overcoming you and noticing this, asked, "Feeling tired?" and you nodded, hearing him say, "But we have to clean up". This made you pout but you knew that you couldn't go to sleep like this so you slowly got up and took his hand in yours saying, "Okay, let's go but if I fall asleep, you have to carry me!" which made the two of you laugh knowing that another round was on the rise, this time even more softer and gentler- if that was possible. Entering the bathroom you held his hand as you checked the temperature of the water, waiting for it to warm up. When it did, you filled the tub making sure that the surface was warm enough to lay on and got in, settling in the middle.

Holding the sides of the tub, he got in, sitting comfortably as you turned to face him and straddle his legs, hands immediately moving to hold your waist and steady you. This time, he stroked his cock while you rubbed your clit, skimming over your folds as you stared at one other. Swiping a bead of precum that dripped out of his slit, he licked your nipple, his warm breath fanning your breast causing his arousal to heighten and his cock to stand upright. Positioning your entrance over his cock, he entered as you went to grip his shoulders feeling your arousal leaking from your pussy. He held you as the bathtub filled with water, leaning over to switch it off but his cock shifted inside of you and held back a moan, only releasing a whimper into his ear. He chuckled at your reaction and sat back, holding you in his arms and closing his eyes as your heat caused his cock to twitch inside of you. Neither of you knew if you could keep this up for very long but you would definitely try.

#sf9 #sf9 au #sf9 fluff #sf9 smut #sf9 imagines #sf9 scenarios #sf9 youngbin #sf9 youngbin fluff #sf9 youngbin imagines #sf9 youngbin scenarios #youngbin #kim youngbin #sf9 writings #sf9 requests #sf9 oneshots #sf9 sangsa #sf9 fanfic #sf9 x reader #sf9 youngbin x reader

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cheri-translates · 4 years

Text

[CN] Shaw’s Tide of Emotions Date (Eng Translation)

🍒Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a date which has not been released in English servers!🍒

The entire date summarised in one picture:

The date begins with MC feeling nervous about playing for the band’s upcoming performance.

Shaw: Didn’t you say you’d show me what you’re capable of? Are you sure you can do it?

I look at Shaw, who has already strapped on his bass, his ear stud reflecting the stage lights. Even his eyes are illuminated.

MC: …Of course I can!

Shaw neither agrees nor disagrees. He lets out a ‘hmph’. The lights suddenly change. He lowers his head and the low bass resounds.

Drum beats follow after, and I come to my senses, frantically pressing the keyboard, its clear notes following the rhythm.

As the performance goes on, MC gets increasingly nervous because her 20-second solo is coming up

Once she’s done with her solo, she notices that the initial excitement from the crowd has dulled considerably, and some of the audience members are even frowning and whispering among themselves

…D-did I mess it up? Was the mood wrong or did I make a mistake somewhere?

I have no idea what to do and find myself glancing at Shaw’s position on stage, only to realise that he is walking straight towards me.

MC: You…

Shaw: Don’t say anything.

He hands his bass to me and stands in front of the keyboard. Only now does the synthesizer reveal its true capabilities, and the magnificent and strange rhythm resounds loudly. The audience seem to be roused from a dream, and once again come alive.

Applause, whistling and cheering ensues. Fire jets spew flames at the front of the stage while a rain curtain descends at the back.

The keyboard gives off the feel of a bass, as though it is accompanying the sound of the water droplets, and yet also sounds like shouting.

The water droplets pelt down on us and onto Shaw’s face, tracing his sharp features as they slide off.

I hold onto the bass dumbfoundedly, my heart beating violently along with the notes he plays with his fingertips.

Only after walking off the stage, far from the lights and the crowd, that my heart rate finally slows down.

MC: That scared me…

Shaw casually leans his bass on a box. He glances at me, and his voice carries not a single shred of disdain.

Shaw: That’s enough to scare you? You really lack guts.

I look at him wordlessly. This person finds every opportunity to taunt me, doesn’t he?

Then again, I would have been too embarrassed to do anything had he not stepped in to help just now. I suppress my rebuttal.

MC: … Thanks for helping me just now.

While I have yet to fully shake off my anxiety, Shaw looks somewhat indifferent. He leans on a pile of boxes with a relaxed posture.

Shaw: I didn’t help you.

MC: Eh?

Shaw: I only changed the final portions of the bass to the keyboard. That song was meant to have two solos anyway. No one told you?

Blinking blankly at him, I catch the corners of his lips turn up. With this realisation, I become even more flustered.

MC: No! One!

Shaw: Maybe it slipped my mind. Why are you glaring at me? Is there a problem?

I vigorously nod my head, at the same time increasing the intensity of my death glare.

The other members of the band prepare to go for supper. While MC excitedly prepares to enjoy a good feast, Shaw stops her just before she leaves.

Shaw: You don’t want your jacket?

With his reminder, I suddenly realise that I am dressed in a thin shirt. The evening wind blows and I hug my clothes together to myself. I can’t help but cast him a look of suspicion.

MC: Did you hide it again?

Shaw: I have nothing to do with the things you leave backstage.

Still harbouring doubt, I head backstage only to find my jacket on an empty bench.

MC: Turns out he can tell the truth sometimes…

When MC returns to the meeting spot, she realizes only Shaw is around, and the other members are gone. Shaw snatches her phone away before she can send a message to the other members.

Shaw: Supper is too boring.

MC: It’s just a meal… How “boring” or “exciting” can it be?

Looking slightly disgruntled, he turns off her messaging app.

Shaw: Here.

He throws the phone to me, his voice cutting through the loud music.

Shaw: Come with me, let’s go somewhere else.

They walk around for a while until MC asks Shaw where exactly they’re going, to which Shaw replies:

Shaw: No idea.

Slightly frustrated because she missed out on supper for this walk, she asks Shaw to at least decide on which direction they are going.

Shaw: Sure, let’s try it.

I thought Shaw was just playing along, but he seriously considers it for a moment and points towards a path.

Shaw: Let’s go that way.

MC: …

MC unwillingly trudges along with him. As the path cuts through a forest, she is faced with a beautiful lake. The lake rests under a starry sky, and flowers of various colours are strewn across the grass.

As she peers into the river, she sees Shaw’s fragmented and distorted reflection and starts laughing.

Sensing that he was the cause for my laughter, the expression in the reflection becomes even more unreadable.

Shaw: What are you laughing at… You’re not allowed to laugh.

Seeing that he is about to “torture” my hair with his hand, I immediately dodge, laughing even more.

Shaw: Hey!

A flash of consternation flashes across Shaw’s eyes. Before he can finish his sentence, I slip and fall backwards onto the ground.

MC: Ah, it hurts…

After his eyes sweep over my form, they morph into a gloating expression. His tone follows suit.

Shaw: This is what happens when you laugh so exaggeratedly.

I angrily rub my back, about to accuse him of lacking empathy. He unexpectedly plops down beside me.

With a look of surprise, I turn towards him.

MC: It’s fine if you didn't offer to help me up… But why would you sit down too?

Shaw: It’s my pleasure.

I am unable to refute, so with a small ‘hmph’, I turn my head towards the lake.

The faintly distinguishable stars are strung high above. Darkness cloaks the sky and the distant lights flicker.

For a while, neither one of us speak. The air suddenly becomes very peaceful, as though the hustle and bustle from before was all just a hallucination.

MC: What do you think everyone is eating now?

Shaw: Are you hungry?

MC: A little.

Because of the nature of our band rehearsals, I had gotten used to the routine of pulling late nights. Having supper became a regular occurrence.

Thinking about this “indulgent lifestyle”, I sigh. I can’t help feeling hungry, and when one is hungry, one should eat.

MC: Do you know of any good places to eat nearby?

Shaw: Not in the vicinity.

MC: You replied so quickly… Are you just lying to me again?

Shaw: I’ve been here thrice. Of course I know.

MC asks whether this means that the band has been together for a long time. Shaw looks at her intently till she feels uncomfortable.

MC: What’s wrong?

Shaw: Nothing much. Just wondering if you interrogate everyone you meet.

MC: Of course not, do I look like I have that much free time…

Shaw doesn’t respond and returns to staring. It makes my heart feel fuzzy.

MC: It’s fine if you don’t want to answer. You’re always so secretive anyway… Ah! But when it comes to adjusting the music score, no matter whether or not you want to, you should tell me!

Just thinking of the live performance makes me feel slightly gloomy.

Shaw: Why are you still hung up over it?

MC: It’s because you always bully people…

I pause, stretching a hand in front of me and bending my fingers while counting his “guilty” moments.

MC: The other time, it was only after I reached Live House that you told me the location had changed, and the other time, you- ACHOO!

My list is interrupted by a sneeze. I rub my nose, pulling my jacket closer to myself.

A rustling sound makes me lift my head. A jacket which still retains a lingering warmth is placed around me.

MC: You…

As though he didn’t hear me, Shaw stands up. With a white shirt framing his back, he looks both familiar yet foreign. I hurriedly stand and follow after him, wanting to say something and yet not knowing what to.

MC: Thank you… But aren’t you cold?

Shaw turns around and surprisingly does not mock my vulnerability to the cold. He just arches his eyebrows and his eyes rest on my right hand. I follow his line of vision but can’t find anything wrong with it.

I quickly notice the hand that is stuffed into his pocket, thinking that he is once again going to give me something, just like the last time he took out the Dragonfly Eye Bead. [Note: MC is making reference to an earlier date].

What trick is he going to pull again… Even though I have a bad feeling in my chest, I still stretch my hand forward.

Before I can react, Shaw takes my hand in his.

He is not wearing gloves. His five fingers wrap themselves around my palm.

Warmth emerges from our point of contact and melts the coldness of my fingers… A surprising gentleness and warmth.

After this thought fills my mind, the warmth gradually travels up to my cheeks.

I move my lips, but before I can make a sound, Shaw’s laughs.

Shaw: Look at how obediently you gave me your hand - Are you a Chihuahua?

After several seconds, I regain my senses and glare at him.

MC: What…!

I try shaking off his hand in a huff, but he merely tightens his grip, even using this opportunity to interlace our fingers together.

The struggling of my fingers creates an even more scalding warmth, and I feel my face flushing redder than before.

MC: L-let me go!

Shaw: I don’t want to.

He raises an eyebrow, not giving me a chance to extricate my fingers from his grasp. He turns around and pulls me along as he moves forward.

MC: Wait! The jacket is falling off! The sleeve, the sleeve… Slow down…

I stumble to keep up, desperately holding Shaw’s jacket in place with one hand, while the other hand remains in Shaw’s firm grip.

Leaves sway in the wind, rustling in the air. There is a dim light on the horizon and a crisp scent. It looks as though it is about to rain.

By the time we return, it is already dawn.

I bought a few tidbits on the way back because I was starving. Wanting to share them with everyone, I discover that the place is completely empty. Cradling my big bag of snacks, I feel slightly worried.

MC: Didn’t you say everyone came back already? Why isn’t anybody around?

Shaw takes the bag of tidbits away from me and throws both our bags onto the table. He plops down on the sofa, crossing his legs and looking at me.

Shaw: I only said that they “should” be back, not “would” be.

MC: I wouldn’t have bought so much if I had known… Forget it, I’ll leave it for next time.

I sit next to Shaw, rifling through the bag.

MC: Oh right, this is for you.

Retrieving two cans of different flavoured soft drinks from the bag, I hand them to Shaw.

Shaw has a earpiece in his ear. The morning rays of sunlight penetrate through the glass, making his hair look slightly furry.

Shaw: For me?

Who else? Where in the world can you find another person who would mix two different soft drinks together?

I hide a grimace, too lazy to explain, and stuff the cans into his arms, turning my head back to rifle through my bag again.

MC: These too – fried chicken flavoured shrimp crackers and hotpot flavoured cake. They’re all for you. Don’t you like eating… hmmm, what do I call these?

Stopping myself from calling them “junk food”, I struggle to find a synonym.

With his arms full of different tidbits, he purses his lips with an unreadable expression.

Silence takes over for a few minutes. He frowns, placing all the tidbits on the table until the only thing remaining in his hands is a can of Coke.

I stop what I’m doing, my eyes shifting back and forth from the can of Coke on the table to the can of Coke in Shaw’s hands.

MC: You don’t want that can?

Shaw: I don’t. I don’t want the rest either.

He shakes the can of Coke but doesn’t drink it. Instead, he shifts his gaze to me.

Shaw: …Don’t think that you understand me very well.

MC: What… I bought these for you out of the kindness of my heart. If you don’t want them, then forget it!

Annoyed, I whip my head around and refuse to look at him.

This person is really… baffling, completely unfathomable.

Band performances are so loud but he finds no issue with them. Yet, he often complains that I’m noisy.

The word “boring” hangs on his lips all the time, yet he enjoys strolling around aimlessly; one moment this, one moment that, always having an opposing view to me.

Before I knew it, I already held a full length “Criticise Shaw Meeting” in my heart.

The more I think about it, the more upset I get. I snatch the hotpot flavoured cake off the table and rip off the packaging.

MC: Since you’re not eating it, I will, hmph.

I mumble softly. However, the way I ferociously ripped open the bag catches Shaw’s attention.

Shaw: Hey, are you angry?

MC: Nope.

I answer immediately, tearing the cake and grabbing cutlery on the table.

I hear a soft “tch” from him as well as the ruffling of clothes.

Shaw: What a bother… Give it to me.

MC: Didn’t you say you didn’t want it?

Shaw: I do now.

I mimic him, letting out a “tch” and “what a bother”.

He doesn’t seem to have heard me, and only looks at me.

MC: You’re not allowed to change your mind this time!

I hand him the cake and a spoon. He unwillingly puts the spoon into his mouth.

MC: How is it?

I studiously observe his face but am unable to find any hint of an answer, so I can only ask him directly. With my question, Shaw’s face returns to its usual expression - the corner of his lips turned up, his eyebrow arching upwards.

Shaw: You’ll know it yourself once you take a bite.

Hearing this, I unconsciously shirk backwards, waving my hands frantically.

Since he’s so adamant about making me eat it, it must taste weird…

Looking at my stubborn refusal, Shaw’s mood seems to gotten even better, shoving the spoon in my face, flashing me a smirk.

MC: I’m not eating…!

The taste of oil is mixed with sweet cream. The strange combination of these flavours makes me question my existence. Worried that this taste would linger in my mouth permanently, I immediately reach out for the lollipop I had just unwrapped, wanting to ease the taste.

Just as I grab the lollipop, a hand suddenly reaches out for mine.

Shaw’s fingers wrap around my wrist. Exerting slight force, he pulls it over to him.

While he takes off his earpiece, he pulls my hand upwards until the lollipop is just about to touch his lips.

The morning sunlight outlines his facial features and illuminates the lollipop. His faint breaths fall onto my fingers. At this moment, my concentration is focused entirely on how my heart is beating like a drum.

I take a step back, but Shaw grips my wrist even more tightly.

Shaw: Why are you hiding?

Under the warm sunlight, it seems that even his voice has become softer and has taken on a tinge of laziness.

Light laughter enters my ears, and I blush, snapping out of my daze.

I push the lollipop towards Shaw, stuttering:

MC: You… If you want it, just take it. I don’t want it anymore…

Shaw looks down at the lollipop, but the corners of his lips turn into a frown.

Shaw: Then I don’t want it either, save it for yourself.

He finally loosens his grip on my wrist, returns to his original position, and decides to lie down. It’s as though he has marked this entire place as his territory, sitting wherever he wants to sit, and lying wherever he wants to lie. And he likes taking things…

I lower my head towards the lollipop, feeling my heart rate accelerate once more. I shake my head vigorously, wanting to forget about that earlier scene. Even so, my gaze unconsciously lands on the sofa.

Shaw is lying down on the sofa, holding on to an old MP4 player. I remember seeing him with this same MP4 when we first met too…

My curiosity is set ablaze.

MC: That MP4 player… were you listening to it that time on the bus?

He seems to have finally picked a song that he’s satisfied with and rests his head on his arm. He slowly closes his eyes and casually answers.

Shaw: Yeah. Someone gave it to me a long time ago.

His straightforward, honest answer is one that I did not expect.

Such an answer gives me the boldness to probe further, and I inch closer to him. The music from the earpieces isn’t very loud, but the quietness of the surroundings and the fact that he is only wearing one earbud results in the music from the other earbud flowing into my ears.

Surprisingly, what I hear are not fierce rhythms, but a very warm, low and pure music mixed with the sound of rain.

It sounds like a guitar, or is it a bass? Perhaps a mix of both. I can’t really tell, so I can only tread lightly and inch even closer.

MC: What are you listening to…

Shaw does not answer me, his breathing melding together with the music, steady and slow.

He’s asleep? That’s fast…

Because his eyes are closed, there is a lack of his usual sharpness. I can even make out a touch of softness on his features.

MC: Shaw?

I try calling out to him but receive no response. After a moment of hesitation, I slowly reach for the earpiece that rests on his clothes.

At this moment, an irresistible force presses against the back of my head, followed by Shaw suddenly opening his eyes. His expression is slightly different from usual, as though stripped of all his pride, leaving behind only the purest, most inner part of himself.

Shaw: You’ve been curious about me the whole of today. You really want to know?

Our breaths are exceptionally close. Just a slight movement forward would suffice in breaking this paper-thin distance. Our tangled hair parallels my messy thoughts.

Time seems to stop and my heartbeat has lost its steady rhythm. I can’t tell whether I am looking at him, or looking at myself through the reflection in his eyes.

MC: I want to know… Can’t I?

There seems to be a flurry of emotions in his eyes. He frowns, and lifts his eyes to mine.

Shaw: Bring your ear a little closer.

My body reacts on its own accord, taking the earbud in my hand.

Shaw: I can tell you about myself.

I slowly nod before realizing that Shaw’s hand is still on the back of my head, with no intention of letting go. He even pulls me closer to him.

His scorching breath spreads across the rim of my ear, and it feels like all the blood in my body is rushing to that spot, setting me aflame. I tremble lightly, realizing why I am reacting this way, and my face heats up even more.

Shaw: In exchange…

…What?

Before my mind can comprehend the hidden meaning in his words, I feel the warm touch coming close once again. There is a light, stinging pain accompanied by a slightly moist sensation on my ear.

I shiver and close my eyes, the sensation becoming even clearer. Blood floods back into my heart, and even the apex of my heart feels tender.

The lollipop in my hand falls to the ground with a ‘thud’, but I don’t bother looking for it. In my ear, the muffed sound of the bass strums thrice, followed by the sound of rain.

Yet, Shaw’s voice is clear as day.

Shaw: Tell me everything about you.

🍭

Phone Calls: First Call // Second Call

#mlqc #mlqc shaw #love and producer #mlqc cn #mlqc spoilers #Shaw gives me high blood pressure #HOW IS HE SO DIFFERENT FROM HIS BROTHER #apart from perfect bone structure and gorgeous amber eyes

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imagine-that-100 · 4 years

Text

Holiday | Part 17 |

Description of Part 1: Alex Turner x Reader (Female) | You’ve been friends with Alex Turner and the other boys from Arctic Monkeys since you were 13. You never for a second thought that Alex would release a song about you though. From late night phone calls and almost constant texting and teasing, you’ve managed to stay close with him over the years. When a pact is established and a holiday is arranged, life seems to be treating you very well. But a month in LA will either make or break you.

Word Count: 13K

Warnings: Divorce (Don’t worry)

A/N: Second to last part. Cries I know!!! But it’s okay, more Alex works in the future. This part is pretty much for Y/B/F so enjoy it! Taglists are always open. Thank you for reading x

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~*~*~*~ One Year Later ~ 2017 ~*~*~*~

“Shopping in LA is actually my favourite place to shop, anywhere” Y/B/F grins at you as you stand in the queue to pay for your new clothes.

“Honestly it’s so much better when you’re here” You smile at her.

You were so glad that she was over for the summer again. She’d come the day after your birthday which meant that your birthday celebrations continued on for practically the next week.

“I’m half sure Alex hates me when I make him come clothes shopping. He always tells me I’m making clothes up in my head and that’s why I never find what I want” You tell her as you both take a step closer to the counter.

“To be fair to him, you do that all the time” She scorns you, this time not even having a playful smile. She just shrugs and nods agreeing with what you told her.

“But the clothes exist” You pout at how you were again being bullied by your best friend.

If it wasn’t Alex, it was her. You couldn’t win.

She raised her eyebrows at you, making it blatantly obvious that she didn’t believe you.

“Don’t look at me like that, they do. I’ve seen them on Pinterest” You tell her trying to hold back a smile.

Her giggles echoed through the shop around you at that point. You shook your head at her before nudging her shoulder with your own.

But he laughs were infectious and you ended up having a giggle too, probably much to the dismay of the other customers around you. Thankfully though, you both didn’t appear crazy to everyone else for long as you were then called to the next till where you then paid for your new clothes.

Once back out into the summer heat, you headed right as you were working your way down the street window shopping.

“Right, where to now?” You ask her as you dodge the people who are in too much of a rush to be polite and move themselves out of your way, instead of you having to move out of theirs.

“Oh, I think we’re going in here” Y/B/F says as she points towards the lingerie shop a few stores down.

You smile but shake your head, “Absolutely not”

“Oh come on. I’ve gotta get something for when I go to see Miles anyway and I’ve got to treat Alex. He did pay for my flight after all” Your best friend tried to convince you.

She and Miles didn’t really end up going out with each other, it just ended up being them both having fun with the other when they were both around. You’d say it was a friends with benefits situation which seemed to be treating them both well.

“You’re treating my fiancé to things I wear though, so it makes me feel bad when you won’t let me get you anything” You tell her.

You always tried to treat her when she came over, but she never let you get her anything. Her excuse always being the same thing.

“Y/N, you’re giving me a place to stay for free and you bought my ticket over here. I’m treating the both of you and you’ll both enjoy what comes of it more than you will me buying you a card or something” Y/B/F pointed out.

You actually hold your ground this time and don’t give into her. She then lures you inside the shop though, by saying, “Come on, at least help me find something for Miles”

“Fine” You sigh before you take the hand, she was offering out to you.

She grins when she gets you in the shop, “Right okay good. Now, what’s Miles’ favourite colour?”

After spending half an hour finding something that she wanted, you browsing at all the different material made you buy something too. Something which she tried to purchase on your behalf, but you point blank refused.

She went for an emerald green set which you were a hundred percent certain that Miles would love on her. You, however, didn’t go for something as colourful.

You ended up with a new black set which you simply adored from the second you saw it. It was in the style of a body suit and you hadn’t yet bought a really nice one in this style before.

So, you ended up buying that and some black fluffy handcuffs because you thought they would be cute around either your wrists or Alex’s.

Thankfully when you got back the boys weren’t yet home. They were out at a meeting with various different important people about the Monkeys’ new album that they had all been recording. Nick and Jamie were over too, and they were renting an apartment a bit further into the city.

Miles was also recording another album at the moment which you were excited about for him. Alex had been helping him with it and Lana Del Rey had also had some input in the actual writing of the lyrics to his songs, so you were really excited to hear it when it was closer to being finished.

When both you and Y/B/F got back to your house, you both headed straight upstairs to change into your new purchases. Both of you knew that you would be going straight for the lingerie though and the actual clothes would be being tried on much later.

You weren’t shy about getting changed in front of each other as you’d obviously lived together in the years previous to when you moved out, so you’d both seen everything before.

Her set looked absolutely stunning on her and you couldn’t help but tell her that, “Miles is such a lucky bastard”

She giggled at that but then gestured towards you and the new bodysuit lingerie that you now had on. The lace that connected the bra to the underwear was something you were sceptical about, but now that you’d seen it actually on yourself, you loved it.

You couldn’t stop looking at yourself in the full-length mirror in your walk-in wardrobe.

“Oh my god you have to put these on with it just to add to the look for me” Your best friend instructs you after seeing a mess of shoes in the room.

She hands you some black heels.

“I like your thinking” You giggle as you take the large heels off her.

They were pretty high ones and if you wore them out, which you rarely did, you’d probably be taller than Alex in them. They were black ones, that were practically stilettos, that were red underneath and they tied up around your ankle.

You sat on the little stool you had in room and put them on as your best friend adjusted her bra to fit her properly. You made sure to compliment her, when she span around to check her angles, by wolf whistled her to give her another ego boost.

When the strap of on your heels were securely attached around your ankles, you stand yourself up and look into the mirror again with Y/B/F stood just behind you looking at your reflection also.

Of course, she was right, the heels really did bring everything together.

She marvels at your appearance, “Wow I actually love it”

“I love it too, I won’t lie” You say with a smile as you run a hand over the material.

“I’m sure your fiancé will love it even more” Your best friend grins at you as she shifts through your clothes to find something sexy to put on over her new underwear.

You point out a black sundress that you’d let her have as it looks sexy, yet it easy enough to get off quickly when things got heated.

You watch as she puts the dress on as you say, “Yeah well Alex can wait till a special occasion to see this piece”

“We look hot” You can’t help but express as you look at the both of you in the mirror.

She grinned and posed standing next to you, like you were both in a photoshoot. She stuck her tongue out in a teasing manner after she said, “Hell yeah we do”

“Mirror selfie for the private Insta?” She asked you, putting the dress down for a minute before grabbing your phone as it was closest.

“Course” You grin quickly double checking that nothing was showing that shouldn’t be.

After a few selfies, you made her try the dress on that you pulled out for her, and she looked gorgeous. It was short enough to attract some attention, yet innocent enough to not fully tell everyone exactly what she was after. She looked stunning.

“Oh my god, I’ve got an idea. Where are those handcuffs you have?” Your best friend asks you as she looked at the material that covered your body.

You stand up and head to a draw that was hidden away in your wardrobe, where you kept all your fun toys. You find the leather ones quickly and pull them out before closing the draw back up.

“Got these ones that you sent us the other year, but I put the new ones on the bed” You tell her, showing her the leather ones.

She smiled at you and hooked her finger in the other cuff before pulling you into your bedroom with it. You laughed and followed her with no resistance, making sure you didn’t deck it in your heels.

“What evil plan have you thought up?” You ask her as she lets go of the cuffs you had in your hand and picks up the new fluffy ones and removes the packaging off them.

“I think you should send your boyfriend some pictures on what he’s missing out on” Your best friend smirked at you.

You let out a giggle at her little plan, but you were fully on board with it.

“He’s gunna go insane” You laugh as you sit down on your bed.

Y/B/F laughs too, “Isn’t that the plan with every sexy pic? To make your man go insane?”

“You’re a bad influence” You shake your head at her.

“But you love it. And he’ll love it”

You smile, “Okay, what you thinking?”

She suggests that you attach one set of handcuffs to the post of the bed and have your wrist in that one. Which you do. And then she suggests putting the new fluffy one around your other wrist and leave that dangling to show it off.

She takes a few pictures of you lying on the bed like that and you’re both just giggling the whole time. It had been so long since she’d helped you take pictures like this, so it was just comical that you were both doing it again now.

And the fact that she kept on making jokes to you about how lucky Alex was.

After she took a few more photos, she instructed you to hold the other side of the bed with your free hand, so it made it look like you were tied up with both. You do as instructed, and again you’re both laughing too much to take it seriously, yet she still thinks that Alex will be drooling at his phone when he eventually looked at them.

Which you knew he would be.

She paused herself after taking one picture of you and looked at your phone screen intently, and you laughed at her. A grin made its way to her face before she looked back up to your before giggling a little when she said, “His jaw will be on the fucking ground”

You just laugh and when she walks around the bed, you thought she was coming to show you the photos, but no. She completely betrayed you.

You best friend quickly grabbed your hand that had the loose cuff around it and then proceeded to attach the free one to the other post of the bed. So, your arms were completely separate and cuffed to either side of the bed.

“What are you doing?” You chuckle nervously.

She just lets out a little playful giggle before heading back into your wardrobe before coming back out with her shopping bags in her hands.

“Y/B/F let me out” You say still a little shocked at her actions.

Your best friend has a shit eating grin on her face as she shakes her head. She smirks at you as she says, “No, I don’t think I will”

“Y/B/F come on; I’m being serious” You say sitting yourself up a little bit as best you could.

She grins at you, “I’m being serious too. And I think Alex is going to love his surprise when he gets home and finds you like this”

“Don’t you fucking dare leave me like this, he’s not home for another two hours” You say seriously, still completely shocked that you were now bound to your bed with no escape.

You couldn’t even kick your shoes off at her because they were strapped round your ankle.

“You can get yourself in the mood in that time, can’t you?” She playfully smiles at you.

She puts her other shopping bags on the ground as she teases, “Shall I put AM on for you? Get you in the right headspace?”

“Y/B/F” You shake your head at her as she makes the way to the vinyl on the shelves and she spots the record instantly.

“Hey, come on what about the plan. Teasing Al is funnier than this” You try and change her mind, but she just continues to put the record on the turntable.

She turns to look to you for a second before saying, “I think Alex is gunna like this plan a lot better”

You sigh and try and think of another excuse to get yourself out of your current situation. However, your mind draws a blank when Do I Wanna Know starts to play.

“Oh shit, Knee Socks is on the other side one sec” Your best friend plays dumb, loving that you were hating this.

But as your best friend, she knew she was doing you a favour and treating Alex at the same time. After all, she knew the actual truth of what time Alex was coming home, as the text had come through whilst she was taking pictures of you.

“You’re a bitch” You say but can’t help but laugh.

She too giggles before shaking her head, “Nah, you love me, and you’ll love me a lot more when you’ve impatiently waited for Alex to come home which will make the shag all the more interesting for you”

“I hate you” You say as she turns the music up louder.

“Love you too Sweetie” She blows a kiss at you before grabbing her stuff again and exiting your bedroom.

As she closes the door behind her, she can hear you shouting her name over the music and through the door. She has a little giggle to herself before entering her room (your old room) to grab a different pair of shoes to match the dress that she was borrowing from you.

About 5 minutes later, Y/B/F is waiting patiently downstairs for the front door to open as she knew that the guys would be home soon.

The text that came through on your phone, which your best friend still had in her hand, said both Alex and Miles would be coming back to the house in the next 10 minutes.

Something which Y/B/F was pleased about, because that meant she could escape to Miles’ sooner rather than later. And you being upstairs in the state that you were, would mean you wouldn’t judge her for it. Not that you would have done anyway, but she wanted to make it a fun evening for you too.

That was the only reason why she’d left you there.

She’d zoned out whilst watching TV thinking of all the dirty things that her and Miles could get up to, when she heard footsteps behind her.

“Hey, how was your day?” Alex asks his fiancés’ best friend.

She smiles round at the two men before saying, “Yeah, it was good thanks. How was the both of yours?”

“Pretty boring really” Alex replied before perching on the arm of the settee.

In the cheeky mood that she was in, Y/B/F thought she would tease, “Well I doubt that if your music is involved Al”

“You really are the flatterer, aren’t you?” Miles chuckles down at her, as he hadn’t decided to sit yet.

“Well you know me and my best friend… Suckers for both your music” Y/B/F said with a hint of mischief coming out.

Something that Alex picked up on straight away.

“Where is your best friend?” Alex asks, not wanting to be alone whilst shameless flirting took place.

Y/B/F diverts her gaze back to Alex and she smiles, “Oh, she’s got herself a bit tied up upstairs. Got a call or something from work whilst we were out so she’s in your room trying to sort out the problem on her laptop”

“She alright?” Alex asks.

“She seemed a bit stressed out actually. She could probably do with a good relax” Y/B/F tells him as innocently as possible.

Y/B/F stands up and heads towards Alex to hand him your phone. “She’s left her phone down here. You alright taking it to her” You asked him, putting it in his hand.

“Yeah sure” Alex says before heading towards the stairs

“Miles whilst I’ve got you here. How about you take me and show me the view from your new neck of the woods?” Y/B/F shamelessly flirts.

Miles seems to be just as eager when he smirks and wraps an arm around her saying, “Sure”

“Why is something telling me that she’s not stressed up there?” Alex asks looking back to Y/B/F with a hint of suspicion.

“Oh, believe me she’s stressed” Y/B/F says before she grabs Miles’ hand and pulls him towards the front door.

Alex pays her no attention, just thinking she’s horny for his mate, before climbing up the stairs.

He looks to your phone in his hand and smiles at your lock screen, which was a picture of the two of you at Matt and Breana’s wedding from last year. It was such a good day, it made him excited to eventually be able to marry you.

When Alex reaches the top of the stairs, he heads to the bedroom and is slightly confused as to why he can hear AM playing really loud. Weren’t you meant to be on a work call?

When he gets closer to the door, he can hear you shouting through it.

“Y/B/F get the fuck back up here now!”

“Y/B/F!”

Alex then opens the door confused, until he saw you lay on the bed wearing next to nothing, with your hands bound to the headboard. He was certainly not expecting the sight that he walked into.

Both of your words die in your mouths as you understand what’s happening. You both just stare at each other for a second.

Alex then clears his throat before he lets the bedroom door shut behind him. You watch as he goes and turns down the volume on the turntable before looking back towards you.

“Okay, so I’m fairly certain you shouldn’t be shouting your best friend’s name when you’re lying on our bed. Looking like that. Listening to me sing. And you know. You’re engaged to me” Alex tells her with an amused smile before he heads closer to the bed.

Your brain then kicks back into gear then, “Al, thank god you’re home… Please let me out”

“How long have you been like this?” Alex asks with a little chuckle before taking a seat on the edge of the bed.

“I don’t know” You shrug as best you can “Like ten minutes or something thankfully”

“Why are you even like this at four pm?… Is this new?” Alex asks as he examines you, then the fluffy handcuffs.

You nod confirming that everything was new, and he quickly pecked your lips. Alex’s hands then go to working his way around the new handcuffs and where the safety latch on the side was. The fluff made it difficult to distinguish though, so you explained yourself as he worked.

“I was trying it on when Y/B/F suggested that I take a few pictures for you” You tell him honestly. “So, I was going to send them to tease you a bit, before you got home but she left me tied up”

Alex hands stilled on the cuffs when you started your second sentence.

“You were what?” Alex drops his hands and asks you, looking into your Y/E/C eyes.

You tell him quickly, desperation to be out of the cuffs seeping into your voice as you told him, “I was going to send you the pictures”

“Whilst I was at work?” Alex asks, double checking before he did anything.

“Yeah” You nod.

You certainly weren’t going to be sending them Miles.

“To tease me?” Alex then asks you with raised eyebrows.

And that was when you realised your mistake.

You immediately backtrack, “No”

“I think that’s what you just said” Alex said cocking his head to the side.

“No Alex, please let me out” You plead.

“Oh love love love” He says slowly before standing himself back up. “If you were going to send me pictures of you looking like this, you know what it would have done to me, don’t you?”

“Yeah but Alex i-“ You start to defend yourself, but you’re interrupted.

“Don’t ‘but Alex’ me” He said before he shed off his denim jacket, leaving it on the back of the chair by the desk.

He comes back over and undoes a few more buttons on the white shirt that he wore before untucking it from his pants. You can’t help but gulp as you watch him.

God he was fucking sexy. Especially when he got like this.

“You were trying to get me rock hard at work, weren’t you?” Alex calls you out on your actions.

You try and steer away from the subject again, “Al”

“Weren’t you?” He persists sternly.

You nod guilty at him and watch as he rolls up the sleeves to his shirt. God, why were his arms so sexy, with or without a shirt on?

“You know you’re not allowed to do that” Alex reminded you with a pointed look as he ate up how you looked.

“It was just going to be a bit of fun” You weakly defend yourself.

Alex nodded at you, but it was clear to see that he was not impressed by your defence.

“Just a bit of fun” He repeats to himself before his lustful gaze met yours, “Oh right… Well”

Alex that kneels on the end of the bed before separating your legs so he can crawl up your body between them.

“It’s just going to be a bit of fun playing with you for the two hours I was meant to be in that meeting for then, isn’t it?” He says as he makes his way up your body. His gaze feels like it’s burning your skin as he takes in every detail of your new attire.

“Alex” You shake your head at him. You truly didn’t plan on doing this today.

“Y/N” He says, looking up at you after placing a kiss to your lace covered stomach.

“Alex, don’t you fucking dare” You warn him, pulling against your restraints a bit.

“Sweetheart…” He coos as his face now hovers over yours.

He kisses your lips once before pointing out, “I don’t think you’re in any position to be making demands”

“Al” You change your tactics to pleading again, but he cuts you off by putting his finger over your soft lips.

You liked it when you were the one doing this to him. You wanted to be on top of him. Not the other way around.

“Ah no” Alex shushes you. “I think you’ll find it’s Mr Turner as of right now”

You gulp. You were in for a long night.

~*~*~*~ Summer 2018 ~*~*~*~

A lot had changed for you over the last few years and to be honest, a lot had changed for Alex too.

Not everything was a good or happy change though. As a few days Alex’s 32nd birthday earlier in the year, both you and him found out some rather upsetting news.

Matt had come around to your house one evening, not looking so good, with some news that you didn’t expect to ever hear fall from his mouth.

“Me and Bre are getting a divorce”

Needless to say, that shocked you and Alex completely. You both weren’t expecting it at all as they had kept their problems very hidden which probably wasn’t healthy for either of them to do in hindsight. But when Alex softly questioned him about it after he asked if he was alright, Matt started to open up to the both of you.

Matt had a good cry and got his emotions out and seeing your very close friend so upset like he was, it really got to you as well. So, you and Matt ended up having a little cry together as you all spoke about everything and Alex was the strong one for the evening.

When you were with Matt, you only let a few stray tears fall down your face, which you quickly brushed away because you felt like you needed to be strong for him. Alex could obviously tell it was affecting you more than you were letting on, but he would talk to you later when Matt wasn’t around to see you get upset.

You felt so bad for crying, even the smallest of tears in front of him, but you couldn’t help it. Both of your friends were hurting and every time you thought about Amelia you cried.

When you gave Matt sometime alone with Alex, you went upstairs and composed yourself before you called Breana. You had to check that she was okay, because she had become such an amazing friend to you whilst you were living out here.

You would obviously always have Matt’s back, but you couldn’t not check up on her, when she now meant so much to you too. You’d called her and you talked for about an hour on the phone making sure she was okay.

Thankfully she seemed to be, and her story matched up to Matt’s completely. They hadn’t been happy for about 6 months and it was unfortunate that they had fell out of love. It broke your heart listening to the story being told again.

But of course, you understood. They had to and would do right by Amelia.

Nothing had changed there. They were both still grateful that they had their little angel, and they knew that the best way to ensure she had a happy childhood would be for the two to part ways on good terms.

And you couldn’t fault the pair for that. Doing right by themselves and their daughter was very amicable.

Matt had told both you and Alex downstairs that he would be moving out of their house and he was going to find somewhere relatively close by. So, he could both give Breana her space, but he would be still be close to Amelia.

Alex had offered for him to stay in your house for a while which matt seemed very grateful for, which when she told Breana about it, she also thanked you for doing.

You made a point of telling her though, that just because Matt was your childhood friend didn’t for a second mean that you were never going to speak to her again. You told her point blank that she meant a lot to you and that she couldn’t get rid of you easily so she shouldn’t try to.

Something which made her laugh and you were glad the call ended on a happy note.

After you discarded your phone though, you just sat and thought for a few minutes as you continued to wipe the stay tears away. But the more you thought about it, the more the whole thing upset you.

Never for a second would you have thought that Matt and Breana would get a divorce. They were such a loved-up couple and seemed truly happy with each other.

And that scared you to death.

Because you didn’t ever want to fall out of love with Alex. And the possibility of that happening to you truly terrified you.

So, with your mind going on overdrive about that, you got yourself quite worked up. Thankfully, your bedroom was like a safe haven though so you could cry as much as you liked in there.

Alex walked into your bedroom to find you sat at the desk, weeping into your hands.

“Y/N/N” He said softly to get your attention, once he’d closed the bedroom door.

You pick your head up out of your hands, and Alex saw how puffy your eyes had become. It hurt his heart seeing you like that.

You got up out of your seat wiping your tears away as you walked towards him, craving to be held by him.

“I’m sorry, I just can’t stop crying” you said to Alex feeling bad.

“It’s okay. Come here” Alex said stretching his arms out towards you.

You walked into them and Alex kissed you on your head as you cried into his chest as you hold onto him tightly. After crying for a good few minutes, Alex sat himself down on the bed and pulled you onto him, so you were straddling his lap.

“Hey hey hey” Alex softly says trying to get your attention and getting your messy hair out of your face.

Both his palms rested on your cheeks and his thumbs were wiping away your tears as he looked into your glossy eyes.

“Breathe” Alex told you and you nodded closing your eyes and started taking in long shaky breaths.

Once you were slightly calmer and the tears started falling less frequently, you tried to speak to him. You were face to face and you were looking in Alex’s lovely chocolate eyes.

“I’m sorry” You said in a squeaky voice, trying to swallow the lump in your throat.

“Hey shh” Alex calmed you, wiping another tear that fell.

Your eyes looked gorgeous right now, but he wished you weren’t upset. He just wanted to make your pain go away. He wanted you to be crying happy tears to make your eyes sparkle like they were doing.

“You don’t need to apologise” Alex said softly, and you took another shaky breath.

“I do, because you should be looking after Matt right now, but instead you’re in here looking after me” You said in a strangled voice and a few more tears fell.

“Ey no. You’re my girl, taking care of you is my job. And Matt’s asleep downstairs, it’s okay” He tells you and you nod, pressing your lips together to hold back a sob.

Alex could feel your lip threatening to tremble and it broke his heart.

He’d never seen you this upset. Ever.

In the 18 years that he’d been your friend he’d never seen you like this.

He could tell you wanted to say something, but he could somehow feel that you were holding it back.

“What you thinking?” Alex almost pleaded with you to tell him.

His hands fell from your face and rested on your hips to give you a bit of space, if you needed it, but he made sure to keep you close. He didn’t want you upset like this feeling alone.

“I’m gunna sound like a right bitch now but please don’t take it that way Al” You start by saying as you wipe your face with your sleeve.

“What is it love” he asked you, letting you take your time with your words.

You look another shaky breath before asking him, “Are you happy? With me?”

Alex didn’t even need a second to answer you.

He looked you straight in your eyes and said, “Yes. Y/N you make me the happiest man on the planet every day. Do you think you don’t make me happy? Do I not make you happy?”

“No Al, that’s not what I meant by it. You make me the happiest I’ve ever been, I swear” You tell him panicking a bit.

You loved him completely. He had your heart.

“What do you mean baby? Why did you think I wasn’t happy?” Alex asks you as you wipe some more tears away.

You took a moment to make yourself stop crying. You took a shaky breath and told him in a strained voice looking anywhere other than his face “I don’t, I just don’t wanna go through that Al”

“Go through what?”

“A divorce like that. And I know we aren’t married or whatever, but the thought of not being with you makes me feel sick” You tell him with tears spilling again.

“And I know that sounds really selfish right now, but I just want you to know that I see a future with you and the thought of ever going through what Matt’s going though, with you, makes me feel ill” You begin to tell him.

You continue on to bare your heart to him, “I love you. More than I’ve ever loved anyone and I’m so happy with you… I wanna be happy like we are for the rest of our lives Alex so just please… If I piss you off, or if you ever hate me for anything, or you have something in your mind telling you something’s wrong... Please just tell me because I love you with all of my heart… And I’ll do anything to keep us this happy”

You take a shaky breath when you finish your declaration of love to him and throughout it you didn’t stop wiping your tears away. You wanted him to know you were deadly serious and the eye contact that you maintained with him as you said it, told him that that you were being 100% genuine.

He already knew that anyway as you’d never lie to him.

“Y/N/N” Alex sighs with a soft smile, before he cups your face again and pulls you in for a soft but stern kiss. His kisses you a few times and he can taste your tears, but he knows the kiss will help you in a way that his words can’t.

When Alex pulls away, he looks you in the eye before he speaks from the heart.

“Y/N, I love you so fucking much… It actually hurts me to not be able to explain how much I actually love you. Like my heart hurts right now because I can’t tell you how much you physically mean to me” Alex tells you feeling the ache in his chest.

His eyes had also started to slowly gather water as he continued to tell you his feelings.

“You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me and I don’t ever, ever want to let you go. You don’t have to worry about another messy break up or even a divorce because I’m here for good. I don’t want another heartbreak and by the sounds of it you don’t either”

You smile at him and shake your head, “No I really don’t. I just wanna be with you and be as happy as we have been”

“So do I, baby. I swear” Alex also smiles.

“Please promise me that well just talk to each other about everything… Because, we’re not stupid, we know will have arguments over stupid stuff and probably some big stuff too, but I can’t ever think of not loving you anymore. I wanna be and I will be in love with you for the rest of my life. So please just promise you’ll talk to me?” You pretty much beg him.

“I promise you Y/N/N, because that’s how I want it to be. I wanna marry you one day and I want you to be mine forever. I want you to know I’m yours forever” Alex tells you as tears trickle down his face to.

And this time it’s your turn to wipe them away. “I love you” You tell him with a smile.

“I love you too baby” He smiles and brings your lips back to his.

This time you can taste his tears too and your fairly certain yours are still running down your face. The kisses last a long while. They aren’t heated, they all just hold so much passion within them that you don’t want them to stop.

You both knew they weren’t leading to anything sexual because neither of you were in the mood for that today. You were just both emotionally drained and just needed something to keep the other going for a bit longer.

When you both pulled away you were completely drained. Of both energy and tears. Your lips were swollen, as well as your eyes from crying all day and Alex’s eyes were red too now.

“I love you” You croak out again, but Alex shushes you with his finger on your lips.

“No more crying today” He smiles, which made you chuckle.

“Okay” You whisper with a smile and a nod.

“I wanna go shower” You say to him after a second, feeling completely disgusting. You could feel the dried tears on your cheeks and you just felt like you needed to relax.

“Okay love” Alex smiled at you before pecking your lips once more. “I love you too” He tells you and you smile.

The both of you stand up and you give Alex the biggest hug and he hugs you back the tightest he ever had. The last 15 minutes had been emotional for you both and you think that you both couldn’t wait for night-time to fall.

The rest that you both craved would soon be there but you both needed to be there for Matt. In every way that you could.

You let go of Alex and release a deep breath. “Right. I’ll be down in twenty minutes” You tell him, and Alex doesn’t question you.

He nods before kissing you again and afterwards he reiterates, “I love you”

“I love you too” You smile at him and giggle as he pushes you towards the bathroom.

“I’ll be in the lounge when you’re ready” Alex tells you and you nod before you enter the bathroom.

You blow him a like kiss and say, “We’ll get him back to being Matt” You promise both yourself and Alex.

You both could see that he wasn’t himself earlier. Not that you expected him to be, but you would both do everything in your power to make it, so he was his old cheerful self again.

“We will” Alex nods to you before you both head in separate directions.

And you both did get Matt back to his usual self. It took a long while and it wasn’t easy but by Summertime he was doing well. Apparently, the couple hadn’t been in love with each other for a long while before they told anyone which meant that getting them both back out there when the time was right was a little easier.

So, when it came to Matt and Breana seeing other people it didn’t take as long as it usually would have. But in every relationship, it took different people different times to bounce back.

And they had both gone around it the right way and there was no cheating taking place because they were again single now. Lies and deception always hurt people more than the truth usually, so you were glad they had gone about everything in the right way.

Breana had been wanting to go out with you a bit whilst Matt and Alex were away in the spring on their first leg of the Tranquillity Base Hotel and Casino tour, which you happy joined her doing so. You were quite the wing woman for her as you were sure Alex was being for Matt whilst they were away.

In fact, by the time the boys were home for a break between legs of the tour, Breana was speaking to someone who was making her really happy. And you were thrilled to see her like that, as you were thrilled to see Matt who looked amazing when he’d come back home.

Matt stayed with you for two months before he found himself a decent sized apartment that was slightly further into the city. The place was really nice and you, Alex, and Miles had all helped him move in and did the place up for him.

So, you were sure that he would have no issues taking ladies he would meet back there with him now he’d slept about a bit on tour. Something which wasn’t particularly uncommon for people to do after breakups, so you encouraged him with whatever he chose to do.

Alex seemed to tell you though that nearer the end of the tour the women leaving various hotel rooms became less frequent which you guessed was good. At least he’d got it out of his system whilst he’d been away.

So, by the time Y/B/F came over for her annual summer visit, everything was pretty settled. The divorce announcement went out around march which of course drew some attention to the band, but most people were just excited for the new album.

Which you and Y/B/F were obviously over the moon about. You’d heart Alex play about with some of the songs on the piano upstairs a few times when he wanted your opinion on it, and you loved it.

Your man was very very clever at writing lyrics and creating the most amazing music. You truly loved the new album, you thought it was the cleverest one yet lyrically and you could tell Alex and all the other boys were really proud of it too.

You were also really proud of Miles. Not only because his new album was out, but also because he had recently just made things official with his new girlfriend.

Unfortunately, Y/B/F and Miles never became anything serious, but they were still good friends and she was really happy for him when he told her that he was seeing someone. You were surprised she took it so well but then she said that she was truly okay after it.

Currently, Miles was back home in the UK doing his tour, before the festivals kicked off properly, which both him and the Monkeys were doing pretty much the same ones together. You were excited to go around with them to some of the new places that you hadn’t yet been when you got the time off work.

Breana had just taken Amelia away to her Mum’s for a month, meaning that Matt was around your place a lot again because he was bored (he usually stayed over a lot too). Breana in herself was doing really well and she introduced Matt to the guy she was seeing before she went away (not that the guy went to her Mums with her) but it was nice to see that they were both respecting each other.

You didn’t think that the guy she was seeing had got as far as to meet Amelia yet, but afterwards when Matt talked with her about him, he apparently said that he seems nice and if she wanted to let Amelia meet him, she could.

Y/B/F once again back staying in your old bedroom, so your days were kept busy either working from home or entertaining her, which was great. You were glad your job was a more relaxed one and if you wanted to you could do bits from home. So when she came over, it made life a lot easier because you didn’t want to abandon her.

You truly loved it when she came over. Every time she came, she brought a new dynamic with her.

And as it turned out, this time seemed to be the most memorable of her coming over.

You, Alex, Matt and Y/B/F were all sat in the lounge having a few drinks, after just finishing off a Chinese takeout. You were all chatting away about a load of different topics that came into people’s minds.

The topics ranged from the tour, to new music, to Y/B/F wanting to move out here (something that she was seriously considering doing), to Matt’s new apartment, to Matt’s relationship status.

“Come on Matt, you’re such a Dilf! You need to get back out there” You tell him truthfully.

Matt chuckles at that comment, just double checking with you though, “Did you just call me a Dilf?”

Y/B/F was hysterically laughing next to him on the other sofa as Alex was sat next to you on the other one. You’d won the spot on the settee tonight, so you were very happy.

“What does that even mean?” Alex looked to you and ask.

You glanced at your, so behind the times, fiancé and shook your head. You pressed your lips together to try and control the big smile that wanted to make its way onto your face.

You cooed him, “Oh Hunny, you don’t wanna know”

He just gave you a confused look before your attention moved back to your friends on the other settee.

“She’s right though” Y/B/F tells Matt, agreeing with your comment and nudges Matt.

You gesture to your best friend and nod to her as a thank you for the back up, “See Matt… It’s not just me. You need to get back out there”

“I’ve been back out there” Matt tells you, even though he knew full well that you’d been checking up on him throughout the tour.

“You know I don’t just mean like a night thing Matt. You were so goo-“ You begin tell him before you’re rudely interrupted.

Alex pulls you down onto his lap, so your top half is lay across his lap as he playfully says, “Why do you wanna fuck my best friend when your engaged to me?”

You burst out laughing seeing his phone in his hand and seeing urban dictionary page open on it. You laugh so loudly you can only just get your words out in between your laughs, “I can’t believe… You just googled… What Dilf just meant”

“I can’t believe you wanna fuck Matthew when your meant to be marrying me” Alex chuckles down at you, as you still giggle away in his lap.

Matt and Y/B/F laugh at the scene playing out in front of them too.

“I’ve always wanted to fuck Matthew but thought it may have risked something ever starting between us, so I didn’t, because I fancied you more” You sit up and tell your boyfriend honestly.

Alex looks towards you with a playful glint in his eyes but to the onlookers in the room it appears to be a look of betrayal. Alex scoffs at you and you grin and kiss his cheek, missing his goatee, before you turn back to the other people in the room to reiterate your point.

“But no, Matt, I’m being serious. You used to be so good at chatting up girls back home. If you would have chatted me up back then I definitely would have said yes so just do what you did back then” You encourage him.

“Matt, do you want her because I think she wants you more than me mate” Alex says from your side and you chuckle.

You look to your fiancé, who looks completely done with you, and tell him, “Al, if you would’ve tried to seduce me back then, I’m sure we would be long married by now”

“Well it worked didn’t it? Because you’re here now” Alex said rather cockily.

You raised your eyebrows at him, “You didn’t seduce me Alex, I missed out on that part”

“What do you mean ‘I didn’t seduce you’? I literally got you to be my girlfriend after two weeks of you staying with me” He practically scoffed, as if it was obvious.

“Please” You roll your eyes a bit, “We only made it official whilst I was still on holiday because we were both drunk and horny as fuck, so we just shagged”

His jaw drops at that. He couldn’t believe you were denying his attempts at seducing you.

You’re having none of his lies though. So you get back up, “Even Matt can vouch for that, because we didn’t put each other down the night we shagged”

“It was revolting” Matt told Y/B/F and you looked towards him with furrowed eyebrows.

“Oh shush, you enjoyed it” You play before you look back towards your man, “And we definitely wouldn’t have made it official that quickly if that didn’t happen”

“But I’d asked you on the date the day before that happened, so it was gunna happen” Alex tries to maintain an argument.

“Yeah but I wasn’t going to shag you straight away Alex” You say seriously, and he raises his eyebrows at you, giving a look of complete disbelief.

“Y/B/F tell him” You say before turning to look back at her, “When I actually liked someone, I didn’t just sleep with them straight away did I?”

“Never on the first date” She grins and Alex chuckles beside you.

“Don’t even suggest it was on the second because it wasn’t” You say sternly.

Y/B/F smiled, “No, you were good, to be fair. If it was someone you actually liked, and it wasn’t just a rebound thing, it was a good month or so before penetration happened”

Matt burst out laughing at the way she put it. You just released a little embarrassed laugh before you hid behind your hair a little bit.

“Awh Y/N/N, you’re so cute” Alex said hugging you into his side.

“I know I am” You say before looking around at him again, his arm still remained around you though.

“You don’t even know how nervous I was the morning after though. I thought you were just going to be like ‘That was alright now bye, see you when I never come back to Sheffield’” You tell him honestly.

Until he actually said that he liked you too, you were really nervous about that happening.

“How could you even think that?” Matt says dramatically, making you and Alex look back towards him, “He’s been obsessed with you since we were sixteen”

“Well how was I meant to know that Matthew?” You give him a pointed look.

Matt then sighs before putting his bottle of beer between his legs so he could start counting up on his fingers, “The fact that you were always invited around maybe? Invited to every gig? He always walked you back home? That all of us lads made every excuse that it was your house we would go around to when it was raining? And you were even invited on the first official tour?”

“Oh yeah and at the end of that tour when you came back from America and he’d started seeing Alexa, it really seemed like he wanted me then” You say defending your past self for being oblivious.

“Don’t be bitter about Alexa. Yeah, she was sly about you, but it wasn’t her fault Alex was a pussy” Y/B/F jokes and you laugh when you see Alex stick two fingers up at her.

She and Matt just giggle before you lean back into your fiancé a bit more, getting yourself comfy. You felt his beard prickle the top of your head as he pressed a kiss against it.

“I’m not bitter about her at all, I really liked her at the time. And she inspired some banging tunes… I’m glad I didn’t go out with him until now” You say before leaning the top of your head against Alex’s jaw before you pat his cheek from your awkward position on the settee.

“Yeah that’s true. We wouldn’t have Secret Door or Arabella” Y/B/F reiterates.

“You are aware Arabella was about Arielle, not Alexa, right?” Matt grins beside your best friend and she playfully shoves his shoulder.

Your best friend grins at him whilst pretending to be annoyed saying, “Right Matt, how about I tell you things about the four of you that you don’t even know?”

Matt grins back at her saying, “Try your best darling, your sources won’t be fact checked”

“When she’s my source?” She confidently says back before pointing at you and taking a sip of her wine.

“Y/NNN” Matt draws your name out as he looks back towards you. You smile to show him your listening, and it prompts him to continue, “You know that conversation we had way back when, that what happens on tour stays on tour, did you stick to that?”

You change the subject right back to what it was immediately. “So yeah Alex, I’m glad I go with you later, because if not, they wouldn’t have had that fitting song on Love Island if it wasn’t for you writing that song about Arielle”

The other three people in the room laughed at your attempt at distraction and thankfully Y/B/F helps you out at keeping Matt off that other topic.

“Yeah but you wouldn’t have got the rest of AM if it wasn’t for you so” Y/B/F pointed out with a grin.

“Stop itttt” You whine before hiding yourself into Alex’s body.

He just sat there and chuckled, letting you hide into him like an embarrassed schoolgirl who’d just been caught kissing someone.

You didn’t like to be reminded your favourite songs were about you. You’d told no one that Cornerstone was about you. Not even Y/B/F and you were certain Alex hadn’t told any of the lads.

And things would be remaining that way.

The rest of the night was spent making jokes and chatting each other’s ears off until Alex fell tired. Of course, you weren’t surprised by this.

A combination of an early morning and alcohol in Alex’s body made him more susceptible to falling asleep on the settee. Something which you hated because it was always a ball ache to wake him up and get him to come up the stairs with you.

So, before he fell properly asleep you sent him to bed.

“Get some rest, I hear it’s your day to make food tomorrow” Y/B/F smirks as Alex tiredly walks towards the stairs.

“I fucking hate that we made that weekday rule” Alex mumbles to himself but you just giggle.

“Goodnight my love” You say before blowing him a kiss which he doesn’t attempt to catch, he just smiles before blowing one back at you and heading up the stairs.

You’d take that.

About an hour later when you and Y/B/F had finished off your shared bottle of wine you said retired up to bed too. You weren’t really tired yet, but you were getting there.

So, you left the other two downstairs after asking Matt which bedroom he was staying in tonight, just so you knew. It wasn’t uncommon for him to stay over so he always ended up picking the same room that was pretty much on the opposite side of the house, compared to your’s and Alex’s.

You said goodnight to them before making your way up the stairs and as silently as you could you made your way into your bedroom. Alex was lightly snoring away when you got in there and you could tell he was really tired.

Usually when you both went to bed you would chat for a while, but it wasn’t so bad seeing Alex like this either. He looked so cute these days, despite having his new goatee which made him look a little older.

You’d grown to love it as much as you loved the hair on the top of his head. You hated that he pulled off every single style he went for, and it was completely effortless.

You get yourself changed into your pyjamas silently, assuring you didn’t disturb your sleeping beauty and once you’d been to the bathroom, you got yourself into bed. Something which you thought you managed to do without waking Alex up, but as soon as you settled yourself on your side, you felt him roll onto his side before pulling you back into his chest.

You smiled him being cute and you carried on reading the book you had bought on your phone. You would say you did that for around an hour, until you felt the need for a drink of water.

The alcohol you’d previously had made your throat a little dry, so you unfortunately had to get yourself up. You picked up Alex’s hand, that was hugging you to him, placed a kiss on the back of it before gently moving it from around you.

When you got yourself up you did a little stretch before you made your way out of the room, once Alex had settled himself again. This time he’d rolled onto his back again and was back lightly snoring away quickly.

You’d forgot to stock up the little mini fridge with water bottles, so you headed downstairs to get yourself one.

You silently walked down the hall to the stairs until you stopped dead in your tracks to make sure you weren’t hearing things. You’d just made it to the top of the stairs and was about to descend until you heard a bed creaking and Y/B/F’s muffled moans.

Your jaw dropped to the ground.

For a split second, you thought that she’d called up Miles to come over, but you remembered that he now had a girlfriend and he was back in Liverpool. Which meant that the only guy Y/B/F actually knew over here was Matt.

Y/B/F and Matt were shagging in your old bedroom.

You abandoned your plan for a drink before hastily running back to your room, silently screaming. You were so happy that this was happening, you couldn’t even lie.

You shut your bedroom door quietly before you let out the tiniest squeal and jumped over Alex on the bed.

Alex jumped awake and you felt the sleep actually jolt out of him and his tired eyes were now wide looking at you like you were crazy. To be honest, you didn’t blame him, you must have looked like a right freak, but you were too excited to care.

Once Alex realised that everything was fine, he blinked a few times before he tiredly rubbed his eyes as he said, “Right if you’re waking me up for sex Y/N/N, I thought we agreed the best way to do that would be with your mouth, not you actually jumping on my body. That’s not what ‘jump your bones’ means”

Despite him saying that he raised his hands, so they landed on your hips and he made an effort to begin to lift up your top. You quickly swatted his hands away though and he gave you a look of confusion.

“What’s up with you?” Alex chuckled looking at you above him.

“Matt and Y/B/F. They are shagging” You told him before covering your mouth and squealing slightly.

“No” Alex said with wide eyes. Very clearly shocked.

You nodded down at him before you covered your mouth and lent down against his chest and squealed into him like he was your pillow. This was actually mad, you never expected this.

“How do you know?” Alex asked you and you sat back up.

“I could hear them near the stairs” You told him.

His eyes were wide, probably in both shock and because he’d been woken up by a jump scare.

“I did not see that one coming” Alex told you and you could see that he truly never expected this to happen either.

“Same, but I’m happy about it. Aren’t you?” You asked him.

You were happy for Y/B/F but, by god, you were extremely happy for Matt.

Alex nodded up to you with a smile, but you could see it grew tired again. You felt the need to call him out on something then.

“Did you literally only wake yourself up at bit then because you thought we were going to have sex?” You playfully grin.

Alex then gave you a half dirty look before defending himself, “Don’t want to disappoint you my love, the twice a day thing lasted a solid year, but it’s been a minute”

To be fair it had been a little while since you’d had sex twice in one day. You just were never really alone anymore, partly because of Matt staying and now Y/B/F. You still got your morning sex though, so it wasn’t so bad.

“Because you’re old now” You say in jest, with a teasing smile

“It was your birthday last week, you’re just as old as me darling” Alex plays back, a smirk now on those lips.

You decide to play a bit more, “I don’t look older than I actually am though” You even have the air on his chin a little scratch just so his tired mind didn’t have to work so hard to understand the point you were making.

“You love my beard” Alex says furrowing his eyes.

You shrug at him before you peck his lips, “I can live with or without it”

You then climb off it to lie yourself down next to him again. You turned yourself onto your side, so your back was once again facing him, and you heard him scoff.

“Didn’t hear you complaining about it this morning when it was between your legs” Alex said, and you felt him turn himself over, so he was facing your back.

You grin a little at that. You knew exactly what was about to happen now. Y/B/F wasn’t going to be the only one getting some tonight.

You just shrug again before saying, “I don’t recall complaining when it wasn’t there either”

Faking your disinterest seemed to work a treat, because the next thing you knew you were biting back moans and desperately pulling on your fiancés hair as he made a point of showing you how good his beard actually was.

~*~*~*~

The next evening you walked into the kitchen, leaving Matt and Y/B/F in the lounge, and wrapped your arms around Alex’s waist as he cooked dinner for you all.

“You okay?” He asks you.

You nod against his back and say, “Yep” before you release him and jump up on the counter so you could watch him cook.

After a minute, you ask him in a hushed tone, “Has Matt mentioned anything to you?”

Alex looked up to you and smiled before shaking his head.

“Nothing” He told you and you shook your own head in disappointment.

You couldn’t believe they were keeping it a secret. You’d literally been tiptoeing around the subject all day hoping she’d tell you, but you’d got nothing.

“Has Y/B/F said anything?” Alex asked you and you shook your head.

“Nah nothing, I’ve literally been pushing for the conversation about it but she’s not saying anything” You tell him, pouting your lip a little.

“Don’t look all upset. They might just wanna keep it to themselves for a bit” Alex said, and you understood but you sighed.

You try and not see it that way, but your best friend told you everything. Sometimes even before things happened with someone, she would say that she thought it was going too.

She was never shy about her feelings; you didn’t understand why she was being secretive about what she was up to now.

You sigh, “But I told her literally the next day about us… Why keep it a secret? We didn’t and we were fine”

“Y/N, it would have been a bit hard for us to keep it a secret. We were literally getting off with each other all night and they all knew it was gunna happen” Alex fairly pointed out as he stirred the pasta.

“Yeah but even so, we wouldn’t have hidden it… I could have waited till I was back home to tell her about us, but I didn’t, I told her the next day. And there’s no way you wouldn’t have told Matt, or Miles” You say and raise your eyebrows for the last point.

He liked to think he wasn’t a gossiper, but there was no way he wouldn’t have told those two.

“I’d of liked to keep us locked in this house for days alone Y/N/N you know that” Alex tells you and you do believe it was true.

You smirk as you say, “Yeah but you gave your friends keys so they could come and tease us every five seconds”

Alex just laughed at that, before abandoning the food for a minute so he could come and talk to you. You through your arms around his neck as he spoke to you.

“I don’t know why they’re hiding it love… Maybe they aren’t like us. Maybe they regret it and want to forget” Alex said whilst he stood between your legs and his arms went around your waist.

“Why would she regret shagging Matt?” You said and you giggled as Alex raised his eyebrows at you.

“Oh shut it. You know what I mean… He’s nice he’s good looking, he’s talented, and he’s apparently a good shag. Why would she regret that?” You say.

Breana had been pretty open with you about hers and Matt’s sex life, and it seemed pretty good

“I’m sorry do you want me to get him to be your fiancé instead” Alex asked you before he looked over his shoulder and half shouted, “Hey matt”

“Shut up” You giggle, slapping Alex’s shoulder and he laughed turning back to you.

“You know I love you” You tell him.

“I’m just saying I don’t see a reason why either of them would regret it. And I know you know Y/B/F is a good shag too. I even heard Miles tell you that” You laugh, and Alex laughs too.

“I don’t know. Why don’t we just see how long they keep it a secret for? Could place a bet, make it fun” Alex suggested, and you laughed.

“You’re on. I’ll have it out of her in less than a week” You grin.

“I feel like you’ve forgot how private Matt is” Alex says giving you a questioning look.

You sigh before laying out the stakes, “Fine then, less than a week I win and more than a week you win”

“What do I win?” Alex asked with raised eyebrows.

“You can win whatever you want because it’s not gunna happen” You giggle.

“Oh good. I’m gunna make you do something dirty” Alex said, and you shook your head with a giggle.

You smile as you say, “We have been together three years Alex. What else can you possibly come up with?”

“I’ll have a google don’t worry” He grins, and you laugh before kissing his lips a few times.

~*~*~*~

2 weeks had passed. And nothing had come out yet. Much to your disappointment.

Alex was buzzing though, but you’d told him that he couldn’t claim his winnings until the truth was out.

You still didn’t understand why it wasn’t out though, as the couple was still getting at it when they thought the two of you wouldn’t notice. They had also started going out together but making up shitty excuses.

Like right now, you Alex and Matt were sat on the settee’s and Y/B/F walked into the room now wearing a cute navy dress that reached her mid-thigh. Much different than the shorts and baggy top she was wearing earlier before she’d gone and showered.

“You ready?” Matt asked her and she nodded with an innocent smile.

You probably would have believed it if you didn’t know what was going on.

“Where are you going?” Alex asks them as innocently as possible.

You had a good pokerface in these kinds of situations, but Alex had to do the digging for you in this situation. It was leaving you too shocked.

“I’m gunna show her around the city. See where we end up” Matt said before grabbing his and standing up.

They both started walking towards the front door of your house when Alex replied.

“Okay, have fun” Alex said from the other settee and your jaw was hanging open. Thankfully hidden behind the back of the sofa you were on.

“See you later” Y/B/F called from near the front door and Matt hastily opened the door and closed it with a thud behind him.

You turned, with your jaw still agape, to look at Alex and he smiled at you.

“I can’t believe it. They just left to go on a fucking date and she’s still not fucking told me” You say feeling yourself get yourself but annoyed and slightly hurt by it.

“Y/N/N don’t be stupid. They are going for a drive and probably dogging” Alex says in hopes to make you laugh but he can already tell that you weren’t amused.

You pout, “I’m sick of it”

“Don’t be… Do you realise what this means?” Alex asks you with a playful smile.

But you didn’t pick up on it as you sighed, “That my best friend hates me and doesn’t trust me enough to tell me she’s shagging my other mate?”

“No Y/N/N. It means we have the house to ourselves”

You look to him at that point and see exactly what he’d hinting at. “Alex don’t even play”

“I’m not playing” He shakes his head. He’d deadly serious.

“Good” You say as you get yourself up off your sofa and move over to him so you can straddle his lap.

Hopefully he could distract you from this too.

~*~*~*~

After another week had passed, you completely lost your patience.

Alex could see it had been coming for a few days, as you were getting more hurt by the fact it was being kept a secret each day.

So, when you blew up in front of everyone, Alex was the only one not surprised by it.

You were all in the lounge, like usual, and you stood up and started pacing. So, Alex knew exactly what was coming.

Both Matt and Y/B/F looked to each other confused by your actions before Y/B/F asked, “Are you alright Y/N/N?”

You shook your head before you stopped pacing and asked her, “Do you not trust me or something?”

Your best friend looked at you like you’d gone crazy, obviously not understanding why you were having a mini meltdown.

So, you continue, “Do you have a new best friend that you tell your secrets to?”

“Woah Y/N, what are you on about?” She asks you defensively.

“I’m on about you and Matt shagging and not telling me” You say gesturing between them.

Both of their eyes widen at that fact that you just said it outright and Alex just smiled to himself before taking a sip of his tea. He knew how fuming you were, so he was just watching this play out like it was a scene in a bad teen drama.  

“Why are you both looking at me like that?” You asked, shocked by their own shock.

“You aren’t very subtle about it. You go out together all the time, which I bet are dates, but Alex thinks you’re dogging” You say pointing to your fiancé who was just keeping his amusement to himself, “And Y/B/F I lived in the next room from you for a solid five years. I know when your shagging someone”

You let out a breath, before letting all your anger about the situation dissipate.

“I just really wanted to talk to my friend about her shagging someone who she’s fancied since she was twenty-two” You say honestly, and Y/B/F could see the hurt in your eyes over the situation.

You just wanted to hug your best friend and have a good catch up like you used to when she started seeing someone.

Y/B/F was about to say something when Matt turned to her and ask her, “You’ve fancied me since you were twenty-two?”

“Matt I’d be quiet” Alex warns him.

Y/B/F ignores Matt’s question and “I’m sorry I just didn’t want you to hate me because I’m seeing another one of your friends. And I didn’t want you to throw me out of your house”

“Are you joking?” You say a little hurt that she would think you wouldn’t support her decisions. You look to your fiancé, “Alex tell her how excited I was”

“She jumped on me and woke me up” Alex tells them truthfully.

“Bet you were pleased” Matt grins at his best mate.

Alex shakes his head before telling him, “You owe me a bottle of whisky”

“Why?” Matt asks completely confused, whilst Y/B/F gets up to go and hug her best friend.

“Because I need alcohol when I have to deal with her being mard” Alex says gesturing towards you.

As you hug your best friend, you turn a bit so you can glare at your boyfriend, “Call me mard again, and you won’t see your thirty third birthday”

“See what I mean” You heard him mumble before he took another sip of his tea.

You and Y/B/F pull out of the hug to look at each other and you assure her, “I’m just happy for the both of you and I wanted to chat to you about it”

“Well how about we go and chat now and leaves them idiot to prepare us some alcohol for when we come back” She suggests with a smile and you laugh, agreeing to her proposal.

~*~*~*~

The next day, Alex walks into the home office, that over the years, you had slightly taken over, with a smile on his face and his phone pressed to his ear. You were answering some emails and approving designs at the desk when he came and sat down in the chair opposite you.

“Thank you mate. Thanks. Bye” Alex finished off his phone call with a big smile on his face.

It got you intrigued, so you questioned, “Who was that?”

“That was our dear Roberto” He smiled at you before pulling his phone on the desk in front of you.

“We’re going to dinner?” You ask with a surprised look on your face.

Alex informs you of the plan “Matt has arranged a double date at our restaurant tonight”

“Awh that’s going to be lovely. I hope Roberto’s there all day” You say.

You still loved going out to that restaurant. Purely because of Roberto.

Yeah, the food was good, but Roberto was the one who made the place special.

“He is, but we won’t be seeing him” Alex tells you, which caused you to become confused.

“Why?” You ask, not understanding his logic.

“Because we aren’t going. Matt and Y/B/F just think we are” Alex tells you with a mischievous grin.  

After last night, Matt asked outright if he could steal your best friend to have a night in his apartment and she agreed so she’d been there all day.

“What?” You asked him, still not fully understanding.

“We’re gunna leave them to have a proper cute dinner date. That’s why I was on the phone to Roberto, I was getting the table changed from four people to two and he’s promised me he’ll work his magic on them two like he did for us”

“You’re cute” You smile at your fiancé.

Alex flutters his eyelashes a little before saying a soft, “I know”

You giggle a little and ask, “Can we have a takeout instead then?”

“Sure” Alex smiled, and you couldn’t wait.

Later in the day, the time came when Alex got the phone call from Matt to ask where you both were and you left him too it and you grabbed yours and Alex’s now empty plate, so you could wash it in the kitchen.

You listened in as best you could as you washed up and giggled when you could hear Alex laugh from the other room. After a few minutes you could hear his footsteps coming closer to you, so you put your plates on the draining board to dry and turned to look at your man.

“Well that’s what you’ll tell her, that we put petrol instead of diesel in the car”

Alex grinned at you as he said down the phone. “Bye, have fun on your date”

He then put his phone in his pocket before walking towards you. He stopped when he was just in front of you and his grin stayed on his cute face.

“Why are you looking so smug?” You asked, looking up at him with a big smile.

“Just getting my best friend back for something” Alex said before wrapping you up into a big hug.

He was looking so cheery. It was really cute.

Alex nuzzled his nose into your neck, and you smiled at how cute he was being.

You should have known it wouldn’t last long.

He looked up to you and smirks, “Now about that bet that I won” before attaching his lips to yours.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Taglist: @the-girl-before @murderousginger @minigranger @turnertable @bastillewolf @slothgiirl @billskarsgard-is-gorgeous @watashi-no-namae-wo-yonde @fookingsummertime @marvel-avengers01 @shibuikelsi @toolateformcrtooearlytoleaveemo @gretavanbobatea @chocolatecig @iamnotjesha @rachaeljayne15 @edgythought @marveious @liviasaugusta @boysinskirts @musicmania100 @he4rtbre4khotel @innocte @beckauhhh @whoknowswhatimeant @tony-starks-ego @tobarmaidswhodontcount @elektranxtchiios @bettyschwallocksyee @alexsvacuumcleaner @cornerstqne @halfofwhatisayismeaningless @juicebox-baby @yousuck-marina @nrldswita @dot-writes @skullag @b-monkeys @babyhoneystvles @timchalamxt @writingismybiggestlove

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choleraciemna · 3 years

Text

Speaking Honestly

Tulsi guessed he's probably cleaning himself somewhere. Washing all the crud she said. I recall that sight. Sage covered with blood all over. Bright red on his lips. Dry and dark on his chest. Dripped from a wound that no longer exists. There is just a little spot of clean skin, smooth and unbrocken. Where Zenith pierced him. I reflexively clench my hands around the scabbard.

I thought I'd be sick of even seeing that sword again. I saw it going to take Sage's life. But when it appeared in Tulsi's hands I felt some strange relief. Like finding a lost piece of puzzle on the floor after hours of searching. And when she handed it to me, when I took it and promised to return it to Sage... it felt just right. It's weight calms me some unexpected way, makes me feel like everything's back at it's place. Good feeling not going to lie. Last days everything became a complete mess.

I catch myself imagining Sage again, his beautiful silver hair drenched with dark blood, his eyes hidden under that mess. I could not meet his gaze no matter how much I wanted. This memory hurts. What a fool I am to daydream of scary and painful memories. All I need is just concentrate and remember where that pool is. That one Sage had shown me earlier. With his eyes shining as always when Sage shares some place he likes. I bet he came there. The only problem is I'm not sure at all how to get there.

Speaking honestly I'm not even sure where I am now. The castle is much more big and tangled if you're not sneaking with Sage. He definitely has some unfathomable talent on finding spots and shortcuts. I can't help but stop and smile. Sage surely would laugh if I put it this way in front of him. UnFATHOMable talent for hide and seek in Fathom tower. He'd chuckle and give me THAT leer. Uh. Really, will he ever look that airily in front of me again? Will I see him smiling sheepishly, laughing carelessly the way he used to? That special his own way, so boyish and genuine. The most ennoying and adorable way I ever saw. I need to see him immediately.

Two things happen at the same time. I hear a splash and I almost fall down with my feet hooked in something laying on the floor. The last moment I manage to balance and stabilize. And this is when I see dirty clothes and pieces of armor thrown all around and a mysterious turquoise light reflecting on the seilings and one remarcably tall and also remarcably dirty boot curled under my feet. Looks like lost in my thoughts I somehow found my way to that pool I was looking for. And I guess I recognise those dirty pieces on the floor around. I pick them one by one coming closer to where the splashes were heard.

And am I not prepared for what I see. Not at all. Nobody could've blame me though. Sage is undressed with his marvelous hair unbraided, his skin wet, his eyes shining and his fangs sparkling in a pleased grin. He looks so naturally, so casually. Water drops on his chest and stomach shine and time after time suddenly tricle down the relief of his well toned muscles accentuating it with wet tracks. I wish I could draw him like this.

I shake my head and notice an impressive exhibition of uncorked bottles beside Sage. His ears perk as he raises to face me grinning wider. I can't help starting. No fresh wounds, only old scars. Without his red coat I can see more of those scars. They cross his body here and there like some cruel tracks of his past adventures.

And he's got more of those twin catlike stripes. A pair of strypes on his shoulder, another pair crossing his bicep, one more above his hip bone... Heck, I must stop staring. Sage smirks friendly. He says I finally found him, he offers me a drink. And I just stand there like a fool silently marvelling his features, learning them by heart. Till he asks what's there with my face. Damn.

He asks if I like what I see. I meet his eyes confidently.

"Uh, just thought it's a little strange"

His pupils pierce me.

"What's strange?"

"To think of it I never got to see your shoulders before. I mean I see your niples every day. But I never saw your shoulders till now. Isn't it a bit uncommon?.."

Sage burts into laughter.

"You can also show me a little more of you... Or just enjoy the water. It's really nice. And despite the fact you weren't in a hurry there are still some drinks left"

He notices all the things I carry.

"Oh, looks like you found my trousers, thank you, just put them... somewhere"

He shrugs and laughs genuinly.

I lower my burden slowly and carefully. Caring to place the scabbard with Zenith where it won't drop to the water. Then I pick some piece from that dirty pile and throw at him. I fail and it goes underwater with a popple.

"Hey!" Sage dodges giggling. "I meaned put it, not give it to me immediately!"

I pick another piece wich appears to be one of his boots.

"You're certainly glad to see me"

I throw better this time.

"Ouch!" He's clearly enjoying it.

"Better save your breath. An ancient relic couldn't kill me and now you try to finish the work with my old boot?"

That's it. I have no idea how I manage to get close to him in no time.

"You!.." My both fists land on his flat pecs. This time I hit him with no jokes. I can't even understand why suddenly my vision's gone so blurry. Why do my eyelids sting. What shakes me from inside. Why is my face all wet.

Tears burn their paths down my cheeks and futher down his chest. Sage holds me as tight as if one's life depended on it, his face concerned and guilty. He pats my back and holds my nape digging his fingers into my hair. He presses me to himself like he's going to crash me. I really don't mind.

"I thought you were dying for real" My hands graze his chest helplessly.

"I thought I was loosing you" I touch his neck, the damp curling strands of his hair falling down his collarbones.

"...so much blood. I had no idea one can survive loosing so much blood" I pet the thin scar on his jaw, my fingers trembling. Sage shivers. He closes his eyes. I pet his cheekbones with feather light touches. I think I stopped crying finally. But then it bursts out of me unstopable like some huge wave.

"Sage, Sage!.. You're alive... Unhurt..." My voice traits me. Simply dies in my throat. Only pathetic sobs left, weak and low.

Sage grips me silently holding his breath. He waits two heartbeats after I quiet down completely. Then his warm lips reach my forehead, touch my closed eyelids gently. Sage kisses lightly my wet lashes and the thin sensitive skin below my eyes. So very carefully. And then meeting no objections his lips press my cheeks just a little harder and warmer. Sage's mouth wanders all over my face gethering tears. The tip of his tongue is hot and almost dry.

I realise what the sound is. A very low purr soothing me, enveloping me in the most intimate, the most tender, the happiest feeling.

I could never tell how much time passed. Guess, I could've spent the rest of my life like that.

"Your feet!.." Sage whispers sharply.

At first I don't get what he's saying at all. Then I look down to see both of us standing in the pool ankle-deep. I notice Sage's long supple tail curling around my thighs. And unlike Sage I'm still fully dressed. My shoes are completely underwater. I look down and chuckle sheepishly.

"Let me!.." Sage loosens his grip on me to help me sit on the edge of the pool. Then he holds my left foot like some precious thing and takes off the shoe. He pours water out of it and puts the shoe on a dry spot near abandoned pile of his belongings.

"I can carry you from here right to your bed since your boots are all wet" Sage smirks at me repeating all the actions with my right shoe.

"What about your wet... everything?" Both of us chortle.

"Well... I'II think of it later. After we share this nice warm bath maybe" His big pointy ears stick out in different directions asymmetrically.

"You see, the water's quite perfect."

#fictif #last legacy #sage lesath #fictif sage #last legacy sage #sage fictif #sage last legacy #fictif games #fictif last legacy #sage's route #my fanfiction #fictif last legacy fanfic #missing sage lesath #soffja

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willowistic22 · 3 years

Text

The pleasure’s all mine... Prince Romeo

A grand party is held in the palace tonight, but one of the royal family member isn’t in the mood to indulge in it like how they’d usually be. Luckily, a stranger comes to save them. It just so happens that this stranger is so dangerously handsome.

Word count : 4688

Part : -

Warnings : light mentions of alcohol, cursing, and that should be it. it’s nothing too serious.

A/N: HIIII this is my gift for @s9da (well technically for paranormalsoup... i think you can piece in together why i asked you abt paranormalsoup in the wormsie discord server hehe) for the @newsiesgiftexchange i had fun making this bcs i absolutely love newsies royal au, so i hope you don’t mind i wrote a somewhat self indulgent fic for your gift hehe. it was still spromeo like you asked, but uhh idk i hope you like it bcs half of me think it’s not as great as i thought it was in my head. But anyways enjoy!!! :D

“Romeo! Get your ass out of there!”

“How long does it take for you to get dressed?!”

The two muffled voices turned into banging on the door. Romeo rolled his eyes, deciding to ignore his brothers and continuing to adjust his tuxedo in front of his full length standing mirror.

His bedroom door swung open with no warning. In turns, two boys formally dressed came storming in.

“Race! Crutchie! You could have at least waited for me to let you two in!” Romeo protested, adjusting sleeves under his dark blue blazer.

“My God, Ro! You’re not even ready yet!” Crutchie commented, walking over as fast as he could with his crutch to get to where Romeo is standing. He takes the silver tie from the dresser and slings it around Romoe’s shirt collar, “The party is supposed to start right now and you know dad would want all of his sons to be present!”

“He was probably too busy talking to the cat, weren’t you?” Race flops on the big bed, causing the dozens of velvet pillows to jump. It also seems to have awakened a huge white fluffy cat in the midst of the pillows.

“Racetrack! Snowy was getting his beauty sleep!” Romeo protested, seeing the scene unfold from the mirror.

Crutchie flipped both of his brothers off, telling Race to be careful so he doesn’t mess his own outfit up and making Romeo stand still while he helps him get ready. In under five minutes and Romeo is properly dressed just like his brothers.

Crutchie places Romeo’s crown on top of his black locks, the magnificent silver object goes perfectly with the intricate silver curlicue designs on the shoulder and back of his dark blue blazer. With the tiny silver crown lapel pin and its tiny chain draping on the fabric to wrap up the dashing outfit.

The three head out of the room. They strut through the grand hallway like it’s a fashion week runway, feeling confident with every step following the red velvet carpet till they reach the grand ballroom decked to the nines just like them.

A huge chandelier hanging above the open space. A few tables and chairs neatly organized for the awaiting guests but still leaving enough space for a dance floor. The huge glass doors wide open to make use of the huge balcony for the party, also letting the evening breeze through the door.

“About damn time you three show up!” Jack, the oldest brother exclaimed.

“Jack! Do mind your language!” Their father protested.

His three younger brothers walk up onto the podium, greeting their father who’s sitting on the only throne present.

“It was all Romeo’s fault. He didn’t know how to tie his own tie!” Race joked.

The brothers have their little silent squabble as they stand behind the throne. Crutchie decides to not get himself involved in it and tries to break it up, “Oh, grow up you guys!”

Those words did nothing to help. In turn, Crutchie turns to their father in hopes to ignore those three.

“Jackie-love! Listen to your brother, please!” A different voice chimed in.

The three turn their focus away towards it and see Jack’s husband already fully dressed up. In a classy dark purple suit with a grey tie in the same shade as Jack’s own suit.

“We’re celebrating our sixth anniversary and Sarah is finally home from her travels. The least you could do is to keep yourself presentable!”

Jack pushes aside the squabble, switching on his loving smile for Davey. Romeo and Race pulled away from the squabble right after Jack. Their father silently sighed in relief to see his sons finally deciding to act like fully grown adults.

He tells the royal guards to let the guests in. In under five minutes, the ballroom was instantly filled with guests in formal attire. Some fill their assigned seats for the dinner that was promised in the invitation while others mingle with each other. The band, playing lovely tunes loud and clear but it wasn’t time for the guests to get up and dance.

The princes have also indulged themselves in the party. Jack and Davey can be seen mingling with the guests they’ve invited, listening to their congratulations on their sixth anniversary. Crutchie has gone to god knows where, which is surprising because he’s wearing a flashy yellow and black suit in the midst of all the mostly dull colored outfits in the ballroom. Race had gone off to fulfilling his promise to their father of introducing his new lover, the future king of Brooklyn.

Romeo is left to slump on the round table with leftovers sitting idly on his plate. An odd thing for him to do, and he’s quite aware of it too. Romeo adores mingling, making new friends, or even catching up with some old friends that he has indeed spotted somewhere amongst the crowd this evening. Though, his energy to do so doesn’t seem to be there in this particular moment.

The young prince watches from afar as his big brother finally introduces Spot Conlon to their father. Spot’s dark red suit is really contrasting to Race’s own outfit, a bright blue suit with golden curlicue designs on the shoulders and back which is a bit like Romeo’s. It matches perfectly with his blond messy curls and electric blue eyes.

Romeo smiles, seeing his brother’s face lighting up as their father seemingly approves of the dashing Brooklyn boy that he has so helplessly fallen in love with for the past two years. Romeo doesn’t linger on it though. He returns his focus towards his empty table and plate, a sad smile painting his face as he observes his own reflection on the ceramic.

“Well, aren’t you the life of the party!” A voice interrupted his thoughts, causing him to lift his head up, “But if I do say so myself, and I mean no offense to his royal highness, you’re quite the tragic sight sitting here all alone”

His eyes landed on a gentleman standing proud and tall in a maroon suit, a black tie neatly tucked under his blazer. His complexion reminded Romeo of the topaz rocks in some of the castle’s intricate decorations, rich with brown but always glowing bright with the rest of the gems. In this case, his glow comes from the simple smile and the lovely brown eyes behind the silver framed spectacles.

The initial comment brought a smile to Romeo’s face and a little laugh along with it. He fixes his sitting posture, eyeing the stranger with a head tilt while his head tries to figure out who this guest could be.

“And you’re what? Here to be my savior from my little slump?” Romeo replied to match with the stranger’s cleverness.

Seeing the success his opening line has brought, the gentleman pulls out an empty chair next to Romeo and sits himself down, “Well, you’re the prince here. Whatever it is you command me to be, I’m pretty sure I need to follow”

Romeo lets out a small fit of laughter through his smile, looking away from the man’s eyes. It also makes the stranger laugh along with him.

Romeo returns his sight back to the man in front of him. He walked right into a gaze-off he cannot look away from. In no means for intimidation, but a brief yet firm infatuation through the art of eye contact with the man he just met. Only now did Romeo realize how dangerously handsome this stranger is.

“Romeo!” The call of his name pulled him away from the gaze and back to the world around him.

He spots Crutchie zipping through the crowd. A smile painted on his face, just as bright as the yellow and black suit he’s currently rocking in. Romeo stands up to give his brother a hug.

“I see you’ve met one of my friends from the lab!” Crutchie gestured back to the stranger Romeo was just previously speaking to, already slightly bowing his head to pay his respects to the two members of the royal family.

“Oh, you work in the lab!” Romeo concluded, turning back to face the stranger who’s already on his feet.

“Yeah. We call him Specs!” Crutchie giggled, making the other man laugh along while Romeo looks back to where he’s currently standing, “And Specs, this is my brother, Romeo!”

Specs pulls up a simple smile for Romeo and a firm head nod.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt you two!” Crutchie apologized, a few moments after remembering they were previously having a conversation. He adjusts his crutch to get ready to leave, “I’ll leave you two to it, okay?”

Romeo watches as his brother walks away to mingle into another group. It leaves him with the previous gentleman he was talking to. The only differences now, he’s not much of a stranger anymore.

“So... That’s what they actually call you? ‘Specs’?”

“Well, it’s because, if you can’t already tell…”

Specs gestures towards his spectacles that rests on the bridge of his nose. Romeo chuckles, playfully rolling his eyes. But the smile tells Specs he’s still in the clear from offending a royal family member.

“What’s your actual name? Unless you don’t have one”

He laughs, parting his lips to let it out before saying, “It’s Julian. But now people mostly refer to me as Specs”

Romeo nods, staring directly into his sparkly brown eyes. Whatever is gleaming under it is very inviting, and Romeo isn’t opposed to this mysterious invitation. He’s rather pleased by its presence. Before he knows it he’s already engaged with it, letting his own obsidian gemstone eyes linger in the gaze.

“A pleasure to meet you... Specs”

“The pleasure’s all mine... Prince Romeo”

Soon enough the sun has fully set. The night sky takes over the heavens above, thread by sparkling pearls to break up the deep blue. But the party didn’t stop. The royal family’s favorite performer, Ms. Medda Larkin, has finally arrived in the most fashionably late way. Her grand entrance was welcomed with warm arms by King Denton himself.

With the presence of the superstar, the band picked up its lack of entertainment as Ms. Medda picked up the microphone after a quick dinner. The jazzy upbeat tune sends all the guests roaring for the dance floor.

Romeo though? He has his own entertainment, in the huge balcony by the bar with his own partner.

“No dance?”

Romeo pries his eyes away from the dance floor he’s observing from outside. He glues them onto Specs, leaning his shoulder on the shiny bar top while twirling his glass of scotch.

Romeo shakes his head, making a semi weird face, “Not really up for it”

“Huh, you’re nothing like what Prince Charlie says” Specs commented, taking a gulp from his glass to finish his drink off, “He says that you’re very energetic and flirty”

The comment makes him scoff through his smile, “I can’t say that he’s wrong. But… I’m just not feeling it tonight”

The little silence between them is giving Romeo the impression that he should explain even further. But he takes this chance to finish his own drink and change the subject, “So, you work in Crutchie’s lab?”

The subject of Specs’ profession quickly did the trick. It also reveals some basic facts about him. As it turns out, Davey was the one that pushed him to work in the royal lab. He’s been friends with Davey since college and has been partners in crime ever since. Davey was first to get the job as a chemical engineer at Crutchie’s lab after a year of switching jobs to match his preferences, while Specs was still continuing his studies for a masters degree. Since he’s been an A+ student at a young age, the first application he sent got him the call for the job interview and got in quickly.

Romeo was very impressed by the story. Half way through it he starts to question as to why he’s been given the honor to talk to Specs. There is no way Specs is anywhere close to Romeo's league.

Regardless, Specs doesn’t seem to question all of that. While there’s a noisy ballroom in the background, they’re having a party of their own. Smiling, laughing, and basically having a great time in their private little universe. Romeo is very much infatuated by the gentleman and wouldn’t want anything in the world to ruin the moment.

“Y’know, you should probably just drop all the formalities at this point” Romeo lightly mentioned, between sipping his third drink he had only touched after half an hour upon asking the bartender for one, “It’s just me”

“Just you?” Specs questioned, lips wrapping up into a warm smile that makes Romeo’s heart melt.

He froze in place, admiring the wonder to behold. It makes Romeo smile wider as he slowly nods at the question.

Before he could say anything else, the loud sound coming from inside took over their center of attention. A loud cheering of guests over something neither Specs or Romeo knows about, as the view was blocked by dozens of backs.

Romeo turns his head away from it, focusing back to where he is currently at. He glances over at Specs and says, “Let’s get out of here”

Specs looks back at Romeo, a little confused with his offer, “And go where, exactly?”

Romeo sips the remaining liquid in his glass, setting it back with a loud clang against the bar top. He spontaneously grabs Specs’ hand and drags him away, leading him to the stairs on the side of the huge balcony. With every step down, the twinkling Manhattan view slowly fades away from their eyes.

It was soon replaced by the view of the royal garden in the dark. A cobblestone path stretching to as far as the eyes can see in the dark, pass the green trees with overgrowing plants hanging over it, and various shapes of bushes strategically placed all around the settlement. The smell of the grass is so fresh and different, unlike anything Specs has ever encountered before.

However, Romeo drags him to the other direction. They walked under a dimly lit tunnel, under where the balcony and the ballroom is. They can barely see each other in this kind of lighting, though Romeo’s crown was able to let the tiniest ray of light reflect on its figure. At the end of the tunnel, they can see an opening which would lead them to the center of the palace where another garden is located.

“Where are we going, if I may ask?” Specs returned to his previous unanswered question.

“Just… around, I guess”

The two smile at each other, Specs nodding along to whatever bullshit he was just fed but still getting entertained by it anyways.

“So… are you gonna tell me why you decide to detach yourself from the party?”

So he noticed. Well, it isn’t like Romeo has been sneaky about it but he was hoping it wouldn’t be brought up.

“That party isn’t for me so…” Romeo started, fiddling the hem of his blazer, “... It didn’t felt right if I were to mingle in there”

“Because that party wasn’t for you?”

Romeo stops in his tracks, realizing how wrong that sounds, “Okay, wait, I take that back umm…”

“No, it’s okay if you’re a little… self centered” Specs half teased.

Romeo scoffs at that, playfully shoving his arms with his shoulders that sends the taller boy laughing. He recollects his composure and re-explains himself, “I mean… Jack, Race, and Crutchie are up there because they have…’something’”

The two continue to walk through the tunnel, Specs fixated to Romeo as he explains himself.

“You see Jack, already living up to his reputation from being a good leader. Charismatic, fearless, all of that. He’s just waiting for our father to step down from the throne so he can unleash his full potential” Romeo started out, which made no sense to Specs question but he kept listening anyways, “And then you got Race. However big of a dumbass and a troublemaker he is, he’s smart! He doesn’t work full time at the lab but you’ve seen him there a few times, right?”

Specs nods, recalling the memory of him seeing prince Anthony while he was working.

“A great problem solver. Despite being the one that causes the most problems in the castle” Romeo added, making Specs chuckle a bit. He lets himself smile at that but it didn’t linger long.

“And you know Crutchie. He’s smart and wants nothing more than to help others. Hearing the voices of the little people” Romeo continued.

He stops walking, causing Specs to do the same. They’ve almost made it through the tunnel, just a few more steps away. The moonlight can reach just far enough to illuminate their faces and highlight their main features.

Romeo looks up to the other boy, “I’m almost 23 and I haven’t really done shit”

Specs fully turns his body towards Romeo, his words from before finally clicking in his head.

“I thought you were a performer” Specs said, “Isn’t that something to be proud of?”

“It is something I’m proud of. But people talk, Specs”

His older brothers are famous for what they’ve achieved that are viewed as ‘useful’ with their title as royalty. Romeo, on the other hand, is a famous Broadway performer. Whether it’s playing the lead role, a side character, or just a part of the ensemble, no one will deny his talent. But people still talk badly about his title mixed with his love for theatre.

Specs stays silent while waiting for Romeo to continue. He let’s Romeo walk out the tunnel first, letting the glow of the night illuminate his whole body along with the garden he’s in. Though, his heart doesn’t seem to be enjoying it the way that he should.

Romeo turns around to face Specs, already slowly stepping out of the shadows of the tunnel. He takes his crown off his head, letting it dangle freely in his right hand, “Living here has its perks. But the downside is people expect you to be a leader of some sort”

The taller boy stands next to Romeo, observing one side of the castle. The bright lights from the chandeliers clear as day through the huge windows.

“So you’re really going to let the stupid comments old people say about you affect the rest of your life?” Specs questioned, letting a small smile creep up his face, “I mean, you’re the one that gets all the girls drooling”

“I guess, but I prefer guys anyways” Romeo half chuckled, his smile yet to return.

“Then it looks like the odds are with me” Specs said in a cheeky manner, taking a few steps ahead of Romeo.

It caught him off guard. He dumbfoundedly stared at the boy for a good few seconds while his back was facing him. Heart beating very fast. Heat rising up his cheeks. The corner of his lips picks up on the tiniest bit of joy and excitement his heart is indulging in.

Specs turns around and Romeo shakes away any obvious adoration towards the boy, pretending to admire his crown in his grasp.

“I mean, I think you’re a very talented actor”

“So you’re a fan?” Romeo asked cleverly, looking up to meet his eyes again while placing his crown back on his head, “Is that why you came up to me in the first place?”

“Among other things… yes”

Well, that’s something to know.

Romeo and Specs roam around the garden in the dark, though they stay quiet in fear that other people might hear their presence. The laughing felt more personal and heartfelt when it’s secretive like this. Somehow Romeo is falling out of his usual confident nature, getting shier with every giggle that escapes their lips or clever remark Specs added on to the conversation.

Romeo brought up the idea for the two to head to his bedroom after spotting a glimpse of his balcony on the second floor. Well, from the ground it’s three floors up. Regardless, they were still able to utilize their environment to work in their favor on climbing to the balcony.

Romeo avoided entering his bedroom because it was embarrassingly messy. So they stayed where they are, carefully sitting on the balcony railing and continuing their conversation. They picked it up so easily that they’re soon laughing together like before. This time, they get a view of the garden below, a glimpse of Manhattan, and closer to the night sky. The warmth of his bedroom through the open balcony doorway defeats the freezing temperatures from outside.

Specs was interrupted mid sentence after an odd feeling came by his leg. Fluffy and warm, like it’s a living being.

“Who’s this?” Specs looks down to see a white fluffy cat looking back up to him. He gently picks up the white furball and cradles it close to his chest with a loving smile.

“About time he decides to wake up from his nap” Romeo commented, scooching closer towards Specs so that they’re shoulder to shoulder so he can pet his little feline companion, “His name is Snowy”

Snowy purrs at the love he’s receiving, giving the two boys long and slow blinks with every pet they provide.

“Do you have any pets, Specs?” Romeo asked.

“My apartment doesn’t allow pets. It actually sucks because it can get a little lonely” Specs replied. He lets Snowy go after the cat starts stirring in his grasps. Specs cleans any excessive fur that got stuck on his blazer before turning back towards Romeo, “I’m glad I get to have my own space after needing to live in a foster home for the majority of the time. But I got used to having lots of people around so…”

“Not courting anybody?” Romeo asked again, “You look like the kind of guy who’d win a lot”

Romeo you fucking idiot. His mind was yelling at him for saying that. No one with common sense would blatantly say that to someone they just met that day.

Specs chuckles through his smile, staring at Romeo with a little twinkle hidden in his brown eyes. It could just be the stars from the sky reflecting in his eyes, but it’s not possible because there was a meaning behind his glimmer.

“Not really my style” Specs replied, a flirtatious smirk making its way up to his face, “Though, I met a guy recently and… I’m trying my best to impress him”

Oh. My. God.

Romeo didn’t realize how close their faces were getting. Hot breaths circulate the small gap between their faces. Romeo diverts his eyes away from Specs’, but it absentmindedly went to stare at his lips. He imitated the way Specs has his lips slightly parted.

“A-and how’s that going for you?” Romeo dared to ask, stopping the gravitational pull towards each other. Any closer and Specs might know how fast his heartbeat is going.

“Not sure” He replied breathlessly, “You’ll have to tell me”

If stomach butterflies could explode then that is definitely how Romeo is feeling right now. But they stayed still. Neither quite seem to have the courage to take the next step.

Specs took the initiative, slowly guiding his hand up to cup Romeo’s cheeks. He then whispers, “Can I-”

“Romeo!” A muffled voice interrupted their little moment. They quickly pull apart and stare at Romeo’s bedroom door inside the dimly lit bedroom. Violent knocking followed after the voice and it continued, “Romeo, are you in there?”

It didn’t take long for Specs to catch on to what’s happening. He scrambles himself away behind the brick wall of the balcony, just next to the doorway. Romeo fixes his suit and answers the door.

Just as he expected it, it was Race. No one in the family knocks as violently as he does.

“My God, Race! Can I ever get some time alone in my room?” Romeo answered the door.

“Why are you even in here? You’re supposed to be at the party!” Race said, “Dad was looking for you, y’know”

“I just needed a little air but I’ll be right there, I promise”

He flips Race away and turns around, seeing the previous boy he was with coming out of his previous hiding spot. He smiles sheepishly at Specs, which was met with his own chuckling.

“Guess, we better head back” Romeo said, looking up to meet Specs’ eyes, “But you’re gonna have to use the balcony”

“I figured”

Specs sits back on the balcony before swinging both legs over the railing to climb down. Romeo leans his body against the railing, held up by his arms. It’s only polite to wait for Specs to climb down before he leaves to get to the ballroom himself.

“By the way… thanks for keeping me company” Romeo felt like he owed him a thank you. After all, Specs could’ve had some fun or gained more than just a casual get-to-know-me conversation if he were to fully participate in the party.

Specs looks up from minding his steps down, back up to Romeo’s eyes with a loving gaze towards him, “Of course. When else will I get the chance to be this close to you?”

Rome looks down to his hands to hide away his blush and bashful little smile. He notices Specs hands are still on the railing, placed quite close to his own.

“But how did I do? Were you impressed?”

Romeo looks up, finding the other boy’s face is already two inches away from his own. The exact same position they were in before getting interrupted by his brother, just this time Specs is hanging on the balcony.

“Is that something you want to know?” Romeo questioned back with a little giggle following it. He thought it would be fun to tease him around before they finally part ways.

“It’s not usual for me to straight up ask but… “ Specs caught on with the teasing, “... technically you were the one that ask”

Romeo giggles along with him. He nods to his question and answers properly, “Yes. I was very much impressed by you, Specs”

The next seconds were filled with silence. The high from their little banter turned into adrenaline to do something with how they’re positioned now. They both realize it, as both smiles slowly fade to parted lips with hot and heavy breaths hitting each other’s faces. Romeo glues his eyes on Specs’ lips, he could only imagine the other boy did the same.

“Do I get the permission to kiss you?” Specs asked, barely above a whisper while his hands traced up Romeo’s arm until it reached his cheek once again.

Romeo stuttered through his next few words before replying with a little giggle, “Permission granted”

Specs wasted no time, softly crashing his lips on the other boy’s. Fireworks set off in their heads as the feelings developed for each other from this short period of time are released in one gentle kiss. Romeo moves one hand to hold his neck, as a means to deepen the kiss and to secure Specs from falling.

They part with heavy breaths escaping their lips. The heavy breathings turned into giggles and giggles turned into goodbyes.

Romeo watches as a giddy looking Specs makes it to the ground and walks towards the previous tunnel. Before finally escaping his vision, Specs glances back up to Romeo. Despite the distant Romeo can see a stupid grin on his face, which only made him laugh.

As Specs finally escapes his view, Romeo lets out a long and adoring sigh and melts into the moment. Lowering his body and placing his head on top of his hands that are gripping on the balcony.

He hears his beloved fur ball meow near him, but he’s far gone for that boy to even care what the cat wants.

“I know, Snowy,” Romeo said, as if understanding the language his cat speaks, “He’s such a dream…”

#random writing #spromeo #spromeo newsies #newsies #specs newsies #romeo newsies #tw alcohol #tw cursing

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lady-divine-writes · 3 years

Text

Good Omens - “Saving Face” (Rated PG13)

Summary: A gang of bullies use Warlock to trap Adam on Halloween night, herding him towards a big, old, haunted house where no one goes ... and few who enter are ever seen alive again. (3904 words)

Notes: This is one of two stories I wrote for A Big Spooky Fan Zine. Be sure to check the rest of the collection for some amazing spooky works from other wonderful fandom creators :)

Read on AO3.

“Warlock … man,” Adam implores, backing away, hands raised in surrender “... come on. You don’t have to do this.”

Warlock grins at Adam’s trembling voice, his eyes wide with fear reflecting Warlock’s triumphant grin.

“Yeah,” he says, taking measured steps forward, eating up this moment. “I do.”

A pack of five boys in costume creeps up behind Warlock like the jackals they are. They’re not standing with him. They’re there to ensure their plan goes off without a hitch. This initiation into their gang will not only provide them with a minion in Warlock, whose father’s money and connections make the boy more valuable to them than Midas. But it will knock precious prince Adam Young off his popularity pedestal - a position he’s held on to for far too long.

Adam looks from Warlock to his cronies closing in on him, taking their time since they know he’s at their mercy. Talking will not help him, and he can’t fight his way out. Six against one? The odds are not on his side. So he does the only thing he can do.

He runs.

He turns tail and bolts, feet inside his battered trainers pounding the pavement, lungs burning from the strain he’s putting them through. But he has no illusions that he’s getting away, even when he gains a considerable lead. He knows how this gang operates. They’re herding him to one specific place: The Parsons House - an abandoned house at the end of this deserted lane; a monstrous, crooked, ramshackle nightmare overlooking the largest cemetery in their village. It’s the oldest house in this corner of the countryside. A worn, wooden sign attached to a single post that no longer stands upright proclaims it to be so.

No one ever goes there, regardless of the fact that its last known owner, Emily Parsons, lived for over eighty-three years inside, all alone, until the day she died of old age. But it’s been said that her frail body can be seen hanging from a noose in the upper attic window, leading to speculation by local townsfolk that the story of her dying peacefully in her sleep may be nothing but a tall tale.

This gang of boys (sans Warlock) have done this before - chased some poor, frightened soul that they hate to the house and forced them inside …

Kids that never came back to school, who were never heard from again.

In an act that could be described as simultaneously brave and stupid, Adam heads for the house, leaps over its rickety fence, and runs straight for the stairs.

All six boys crow when they see him skid to a stop at the base of the porch.

He’s right where they want him.

Whether he goes in himself or they grab him by his arms and legs and toss him in, he’s going in that house.

“Go on then!” one of the boys yells. “Get yer bony arse in there!”

The boys cackle, lending further to the impression that they are hunchbacked, sharp-toothed predators.

“And what if I don’t?” Adam calls over his shoulder, not fully facing them. Keeping his back turned to this lot is just as foolhardy as seeking safety inside this house, but he can’t turn his back on the house either. It has an essence - something he can feel deep inside his body, into the marrow of his bones.

“I don’t see you have much of a choice,” a different boy yells. “One way or the other, yer going in there. It just depends on whether you’re walking in or crawling in on two broken legs!”

Adam looks at the boys, stopped by the fence, with a slight smirk and a furrowed brow.

“How on earth am I supposed to crawl anywhere on two broken legs?” he asks.

“I …” The boy who made the original comment chokes on the rest of his sentence, realizing then how much that threat doesn’t make any sense. “I don’t know! You’re just gonna!”

“Adam … buddy …” Warlock grips the pointed tops of the fence posts and leans over “… my friends here are going to make sure you get into that house one way or the other. So you might as well get it over with.”

Adam answers Warlock’s comment with a hard swallow. He doesn’t honestly believe those boys are going to grab him up and toss him into the house. They’re too scared to even come past the fence, standing just beyond the splintered pickets, dressed in an array of stereotypical monster costumes – a werewolf, a vampire, a mummy, Frankenstein’s monster, and a ghost – each one blocking Adam’s escape.

Warlock is the only one among them not wearing a costume, opting for slate gray trousers, a white button-down, and the thick, navy wool coat he wears for school. With the exception of being only twelve, he looks, for all intents and purposes, like he’s going on a job interview.

Just an everyday average Joe.

That’s because, he’d explained, serial killers blend in, look like everyone else.

In reality, Adam has the upper hand. He should run inside and hide.

It’s a good plan.

A reasonable plan.

A solid plan.

So why doesn’t he make his feet go?

He searches for a weapon since it seems that fighting might become an option.

The house shifts on its foundation when a particularly forceful breeze passes through it. Adam eyes the graying wood slats falling from the siding, dusty windows clattering while shutters swing off their hinges, smacking dully against one another.

A rock flies in out of nowhere and strikes Adam on the shoulder. He stumbles forward onto the first creaky step. He glares at the house, as if of all the people there meaning to do him harm, it’s the house that decided to throw the first punch.

But it wasn’t the house.

He knows it wasn’t.

And the stakes in this game of cat-and-mouse have just gone up a notch.

“Go on already!” the boy dressed as a mummy yells, tossing a second rock straight up and catching it as it comes down like he’s warming up for baseball practice. “We haven’t got all night! We still have egging to do!”

“Well, why don’t you go do that and come back? I promise I won’t go anywhere.”

Adam ducks in time to miss the rock whiz by his head, coming close enough to nick his left ear.

“No more jokes, Adam!” werewolf boy growls. “You either go inside and take your chances, or we pound you into the dirt!”

Adam looks at the faces around him – mean, unfriendly, shrouded by masks and makeup, which makes these boys feel braver.

It also makes them more dangerous.

But they’re far from anonymous. Adam knows who the boys are underneath their masks. The vampire is Vince: the leader of the gang and the eldest, having retaken two grades twice. The werewolf is his younger brother, David. The mummy is Troy, their best friend from birth. Frankenstein’s monster is Leroy, and the ghost, in his thin white sheet, hiding him from absolutely no one, is Devin.

Yes, Adam knows them. He knows an awful lot about them, really. They’ve lived in the same village together their entire lives. They’ve been to each others’ houses at one point or another, hunted for eggs in the courtyard of the church every Easter till they were ten. But he doesn’t appeal to them. Because somewhere down the line, they changed. Rumors about them run rampant all over town. Outlandish rumors.

Still, Adam is far from impressed.

But Warlock … Adam had had high hopes for him. But Vince and his merry band of delinquents got their hooks into him.

Now, it might be too late for both of them.

Adam looks at the four short stairs leading to the porch. He knows the devils that wait for him if he doesn’t go up those stairs. He might as well try his luck contending with the unknown.

As a former Antichrist, a murderous spirit might be easier to reckon with.

He climbs unsteadily to the second step, ticking it off in his head.

Three more to go.

Somewhere above him, a shutter slams, causing him to skip step three and fall face-first onto step number four.

In the space of a second, he went from starting to nearly done.

He lifts a foot and plants it on the stair beneath him, raising himself up slowly as the plank bends in the middle. He brings his other leg up to the fourth step.

One more, and he’ll be standing on the porch.

Another breeze blows. The front door swings open, making all the kids present jump. Adam finds himself at a crossroads.

Whether he likes it or not, there’s only one way out of this.

He can’t make it past. He has to go through.

Adam flies into the house, the front door slamming shut the second he’s inside, as if receiving him.

Or swallowing him.

Then … everything grinds to a halt.

The wind ceases to blow.

The shutters hang limply, no longer bang.

The house stops its listing.

And from the pits of the boys’ stomachs to the tips of their toes, the earth stops spinning.

“What … what just happened?” David asks in a hoarse whisper.

“I think he went in there,” Leroy says.

“Went in, or was pushed?” Troy asks.

“Who would have pushed him? We’re all out here! Not a one of us has moved!”

“Maybe it wasn’t us,” Devin offers.

“Who was it then? Who was it!?” Troy asks, becoming unhinged. “Tell me!”

The sound of Adam screaming silences their arguing.

“Help! Help me! Vince! Troy! Devin! Warlock! Help me!”

“A … Adam?” Leroy says. “Is that …?”

“Yeah,” David answers quietly. “Yeah, that’s …”

“David! Leroy! Please!”

The boys have heard kids scream in this house before. And they’ve enjoyed it. It’s part of what they live for, why they do this every Halloween. But something about the way Adam is screaming is different. He isn’t just begging for help.

He’s calling out to them, each one by name.

Not only is it unsettling to hear Adam’s fearful voice calling for them, the thought of this house knowing their names sends chills up each of their spines.

Except for Warlock, who looks bored out of his mind.

Silence falls over the house again. A silence that drags on by the skin of its teeth and goes on for far too long.

Right when three of the boys summon up the courage to organize a search party, they hear another scream, this one worse than the last.

Adam again, but his screams have changed.

He’s beyond asking for help, gone from panicked, to bloodcurdling, to strangled, as if someone is pouring cupfuls of sand into his mouth. Above the sound of Adam choking for air comes a hollow, evil laugh, rising in volume and pitch, echoing around the walls and shaking the whole house.

“Vince!” it mimics, chuckling in between. “Troy! Devin! Warlock! David! Leroy!”

The boys stand up straight when they hear it, stepping back as the sound grabs at their insides and squeezes tight.

“We … we should go check on him … maybe?” Devin suggests.

“Yeah,” Leroy agrees. “Why don’t you go ahead and check on him, Vince?”

Vince glares at the boys flanking him side-to-side. “Nu-uh! I’m not opening that door for shite!”

“This was your brilliant idea!” Devin argues. “You’re the one who wanted to bring him here, despite the fact that we could end up dead! Or worse!”

“What’s worse than dead?” Vince asks.

“My mum could find out! I could be grounded till I’m married!”

Vince’s eyebrows snap in the middle. “B-but �� you’re gay!”

“Marriage equality exists, Vince!” Devin crosses his arms. “Don’t be an arse, all right?”

“Point is,” Troy intervenes, “this was your plan from the start, so you should go check on him! Man!” He kicks at the pebbles beneath his feet. “I just want for one year to get some tricks or treats! I’m so tired of this shite!”

“Same here!” Leroy chimes in.

The five boys bicker back and forth. Warlock watches, gaze bouncing between them like he’s at a football match - a dull football match, one destined to end in a stalemate. He rolls his eyes.

He’s definitely done with this.

“Oh, I’ll do it!” Warlock says, blowing through the lopsided gate and trudging up the steps. “Ya bunch of pansies …”

“Yeah,” Vince says, visibly relieved. “Yeah, Warlock should go. It’s his initiation.”

“Oh, shut the eff up!” Troy says, unamused.

Warlock stomps up the stairs without a care, daring whatever is in the house that grabbed Adam to grab him as well. “Adam!” he yells, hand cupped to the side of his mouth to ensure he can be heard. “Adam! Where the hell are you?”

When Adam doesn’t answer, Warlock does the unthinkable.

He knocks on the front door.

The gang takes another step back.

“A-dam!” Warlock calls in a teasing, sing-song voice. “Come out here, ya coward! You trynna pull one over on us? Well, it won’t work. I’m gonna count to five, and then Vince is gonna come in and beat the crap out of you!”

“What!?” Vince yelps, his next step backward twice the size of the rest. “Oh, heck no! No no no no no no no!”

Warlock stops knocking. He puts an ear to the door. The boys watch, completely engrossed but prepared to run if anything else should happen.

If anything should eat him, then come for them next.

“Well?” Leroy calls up after a minute. “Do you hear anything?”

“I hear … something,” Warlock moves his ear from the center of the door to the seam. “It sounds like a …”

“Like a what? Like a what?” Troy screams, one creaky floorboard away from losing it entirely.

“I don’t know,” Warlock says, “but it sounds kind of like a … a …”

“A …?”

“... a … burp.”

The boys stare at one another, expressions wasted underneath their disguises.

“A burp?” David says. “Warlock, man! I’m gonna …”

The door breaks off its hinges and flies over their heads. The five boys duck down to avoid being beamed. When the coast is clear, and the cacophony of the door cartwheeling down the street dies down, they stand back up and look to the spot where Warlock had been standing, hoping to get an answer …

… but he’s not there anymore.

Not a scrap of him.

The gaping doorway stands open like a giant mouth breathing in the twilight air.

And Vince can’t stand it anymore.

“Warlock! Adam!” he bellows, then waits for an answer. When he doesn’t get one, he leaps over the fence and storms up to the house. “WARLOCK! ADAM! Come on out, all right? This isn’t funny anymore!”

Vince isn’t necessarily concerned with whether or not Warlock or Adam is alive or dead. He’s much more concerned with his sanity. He’s been to this house dozens of times, and nothing even close to this has ever happened. They have to be making this up. They had to have gotten together before tonight and planned on pranking him, probably hoping to see him mess himself.

Well, that’s not gonna happen!

He makes his way to the doorway with none of his gang behind him. He leans in, looks left and right.

“Warlock?” he calls out. “Adam? Where are you guys?”

He turns back to his crew, all of whom have migrated further down the walkway, preparing to run for their lives.

“They’re not … they’re not in there,” Vince says.

“You’re going to have to go inside then.”

“No way! Fuck that!”

“Vince …!”

“Don’t Vince me! They went into that house on their own! Ain’t no one to blame for that!”

“Adam went in because we threatened him!” Leroy points out.

“He wouldn’t have even come here if Warlock hadn’t invited him,” Vince counters.

“We helped! That makes us accessories!” Devin argues.

“Accessories?” Vince snickers. “What? Are you a solicitor now?”

“Just get in there, Vince!” Leroy says. “Or are you chicken?”

“I’m not chicken! I’m smart! I’m not gonna go in there and die because of fucking peer pressure, and not a one of you can make me!”

A tortured howl shakes the loose boards on the house, pulling the boys’ attention. But it doesn’t sound like Adam this time.

It sounds like Warlock.

“H-holy shit! Holy shit! Vince!” David yells, pointing at the house.

Pointing at Adam, standing in the doorway, two feet in front of Vince, his shirt front drenched in blood. None of the boys can tell if that blood belongs to him or not. Not even Vince, looking him dead in the eye.

But he doesn’t look too much worse for wear.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck!” Vince cries, stumbling backward, missing the stairs altogether and falling straight off the porch onto his tailbone. He lands with a resounding thud, sprays of liquid hot pain shooting up his back.

“What … what happened to you, A---Adam?” Leroy asks.

“I was given a choice,” Adam growls in a new voice as he steps out onto the porch. An inhuman voice. “To submit … or die. And I chose …” He lifts his arms and his body follows, rising into the air above the boys’ heads as Adam grins down at them “… to conquer.”

“Wh-where is Warlock?” David asks.

Adam laughs. “You mean him?” With a sweep of his arm, the limp body of a young boy flies out one of the windows, landing on the ground inside the fence. The five boys scream, staring into the open and unseeing eyes of Warlock Dowling, his face ashen, his mouth opened wide, locked in a horrified scream so that the only conclusion they can come to is that he was literally scared to death.

“L-let’s get out of here!” Leroy yells.

“Oh …” Adam chuckles “… you’re not going anywhere. You’re staying here … with us!”

“U-us?” Troy whimpers. “Who’s us?”

A fist busts through the floorboards of the porch, then an arm clad in rags and the shredded remains of what was once a flannel shirt. Another hand emerges, clawing through the wood to hoist up the rest - the head and torso of a corpse tearing themselves from the earth to do Adam’s bidding. Adam’s eyes - blistering red orbs glowing in their sockets - stare down at his tormentors, so frightened for their lives, they can barely scream. Vince scuttles backward to avoid the eruption. A hand explodes through the dirt beside him, grabbing hold of his ankle, and Vince launches to his feet. He manages a shrill wail as he flips over the gate and sprints off down the street, his four compatriots hot on his heels, one urinating noticeably.

Not until the boys are out of sight does Adam begin to laugh in earnest, his body lowering to the ground, carried gingerly by angelic power. He looks down as the glamour fades – the stain withdrawing, his eyes returning from the spell that made them transform. He pulls at the hem of his shirt, watching as the last remaining blood disappears from the fabric.

Warlock climbs up off the filthy ground. He was never really hurt, helped out the window and through the air by demonic intervention. “That was fun.”

“Better than what we did last year,” Wensleydale groans, clambering out of his hole in the porch.

“Hey!” Brian yelps, pulling off his sweaty mask and sucking in a breath of fresh air. “Last year’s costume contest was epic!”

“That’s because you won it!” says Pepper, pulling off her own oppressive mask.

“Yeah. And that was because your mum was one of the judges!”

“Doesn’t mean I didn’t have the best costume!”

“Don’t you children think that was a little much?” Aziraphale asks, walking out on to the porch from where he and Crowley had been hiding in the living room, peeking out through a downstairs window. He’d disapproved of this scheme from the start, back when the Them found out what those bullies were concocting for Halloween night, how they had strong-armed Warlock into helping them. “Wouldn’t it have been better to approach their parents about their brutish behavior?”

“Nah,” Crowley says, slipping an arm around his husband’s waist. “Woulda done no good. Most of the time, the parents are no better than the kids. Who d’ya think the blighters get it from?”

“Isn’t this all going to be moot when they find out that Adam hasn’t been possessed by the devil, and Warlock did not, in fact, get devoured by bloodthirsty zombies?” Aziraphale asks, grimacing at the absurdity.

“No,” Adam assures him, “because no one is going to find out until school on Monday after they’ve already called everyone they know and told them about it. I can’t imagine the amount of trouble they’re going to get into!”

“Yeah!” Wensleydale agrees. “Look at all of the rules they’re breaking! Bullying, assault, trespassing. With any luck, they’ll get grounded for life!”

“Or at least three months.” Aziraphale shoots his husband a significant look that takes Crowley a moment to catch.

“Oh! Yeah, right.” Crowley snaps his fingers, performing the truly demonic miracle of making sure five bastards get their comeuppance.

“Besides, something good is coming out of all this,” Pepper reminds them. “Mrs. Parsons’s grandniece will have a brand new house after we help get this wreck fixed up. It was nice of her to let us borrow it for the night. We must have sounded bonkers when we asked.”

“Not at all. She understood,” Aziraphale assures them. “She was glad that after years of people using her great aunt’s house to scare people that someone asked permission for a change.”

“I think things turned out exactly the way they were meant to,” Pepper says.

“Yup!” Brian concurs. “Let the punishment fit the crime, I always say.”

“When do you say that?” Wensleydale asks, beating dirt and cobwebs out of his ear.

“All the time,” Brian argues.

“I’ve known you my entire life, and I’ve never once heard you say that!”

“Then you haven’t been listening hard enough!”

“Pepper? Have you ever heard him say that?”

“Don’t know. I tend to ignore every third word that comes out of his mouth.”

“Ha-ha. Very funny.”

“You were right, Warlock. Go big or go home,” Adam says over the argument ensuing.

“Yeah.” Warlock smiles at his new friends. They were never angry at him for the part he almost played in conspiring against their leader. They offered to help him out with no arguments given. It was Pepper's idea to pretend to turn into the undead. Brian got their costumes together. Wensleydale found out about Mrs. Parsons's grandniece and suggested they give her a call. Then they spent most of Halloween night hiding out in this creepy old house when they could have been roaming the neighborhood begging for candy.

But the best thing they did was let him join their group even though he probably didn't deserve it.

“We went big." Warlock smirks, watching the five boys clamor down the street and, unbeknownst to them, to a two-hour lecture and three months in solitary confinement. “Let’s go home.”

#good omens #good omens fanfiction #ineffable husbands #ineffable idiots #crowley x aziraphale #aziraphale x crowley #aziraphale #Crowley

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emoboijk · 4 years

Text

jjk | stardust

we’re all made of stardust, looking to find each other again; one time for the present, two times for the past —soulmate au

12,356 words

Jeongguk doesn't really know why he's here. Well, he knows why. Taehyung's his friend after all. Jeongguk would do anything for him: walk through fire or start a fight. Unfortunately, that also means going to his parties. Not that he doesn't like parties! He just... he also likes video games and beer in his apartment and getting enough sleep for practice the next day.

God, Jeongguk likes sleeping.

Any other night Jeongguk might be three drinks in by now and chugging a fourth, but tonight he's exhausted and he wants to play Overwatch. Any other night he could push the extroverted part of himself to the surface and force himself to have a good time until he actually does. But tonight…

Even the buzz from his beer doesn't lift his spirits.

Tired of watching the stillness of his beer in its red cup, he pulls his attention back to the party. Everyone's crammed into Jimin's and Taehyung's shared apartment. There are various snack foods laid out on the coffee table and in the kitchen. Bottles of hard liquor mingle with dozens of six-packs of beer. There's trash... everywhere.

Jeongguk glances at the watch on his wrist. 12:02 AM.

His eyes do a quick scan, like always, for his friends (it makes him feel better to keep track). Jimin is plastered and fully committed to a game of drunk Jenga with a couple girls from the Poli Sci department and an equally plastered Seokjin. Hobi is teaching a girl from their dance class how to do an advanced hip hop move despite the rather slow Sam Smith song playing over the speakers. Taehyung is talking enthusiastically by the kitchen bar with Namjoon and a few guys Jeongguk doesn't know. It takes him a second to find Yoongi but he eventually spots him in a secluded corner, smirking with some girl from the Music department.

Jeongguk feels lonely. Just for a moment, leaning against the wall with his half-empty cup of beer, observing the party instead of participating in it, he feels lonely. He and the others have been close for so long, have been like brothers for so long... when he realizes that things won't always be this way and they each have their own lives to live... loneliness hits him like a gunshot.

He downs the rest of his beer in one drink, chucking the empty cup in a nearby trash can perfectly without paying attention. He waves absently to Taehyung and the others on his way out, slipping into his jacket and opening the door.

That's where he finds you, bathed in fluorescent light and clutching a bottle of red wine that has a bow wrapped around it. You look so startled to see him there, to see anyone there, that Jeongguk almost thinks you might start crying. Your face is drained of color and the bottle of wine starts to slip from your hands.

Jeongguk's eyes move quickly over you, catching sight of the falling bottle and moving on instinct. He swipes the bottle before it hits the floor, placing one hand on your shoulder to keep you steady.

"Close one," he says, handing it back to you. He doesn't realize that he's too close until you flinch at the feeling of his breath on your cheek. He pulls away too fast, his nose filling with the smell of peonies and lavender fabric softener. Desperation tugs at something in his chest and he watches you with wide eyes, like seeing the sunset for the first time.

He shakes off the feeling and steps aside, holding the door open so that you can see inside the apartment to the party. "Going in?"

You take a step back, hugging the wine even more tightly now. There's conflict in your eyes and Jeongguk takes the opportunity to give you a once over: soft floral sundress, wrinkle-free beige cardigan, soft pink headband pushing back your hair, neat ballet flats. All this and a bottle of wine that... that almost looks like a gift.

You do seem familiar. The polite neatness off your clothes, the apprehension, the hopeless deer-in-the-headlights expression. But Jeongguk finds it hard to believe he knows you from an association with... Taehyung? He just can't picture the two of you even existing in the same space, let alone partying together?

"N-No."

"Oh...kay." Jeongguk releases the door and lets it fall shut behind him. "Uh," he sidesteps you, "bye."

You watch him descend the staircase with a knot in your stomach, following only after you've given him enough time to have left the building. You sigh and hang your head as you descend.

I froze up, you think. It makes you want to cry. Your knuckles turn white gripping the bottle. You feel a panic attack in your throat, the urge to hit your head against the wall making your heart race. You're just so... frustrated with yourself. Why can't I just be normal! Why doesn't my brain work like everyone else's? Why am I so... defective? You think you'll probably end up drinking this whole bottle tonight.

And you got so dressed up, too. This is your favorite dress. On good days it makes you feel confident, like you can talk to anyone or do anything. On bad days, it makes you feel safe, just that much less anxious.

You pause once you're outside. The night air is crisp and it helps clear your head. You sigh into the empty air and let disappointment sneak into the crevices off your mind. At least I can see the stars tonight, you think, craning your neck back to count the golden specks dotted into the inky blue night sky.

You startle when your mind floats back down to earth and the present moment to find him there on the sidewalk near you. He's leaning against a street sign with his phone in his pocket, watching you.

Oh crap. I must look like a crazy person.

Jeongguk doesn't think you're crazy. In fact, you remind him of Namjoon. You have the same kind of absentmindedness. Although, admittedly, Namjoon hides his insecurities better; you're wearing yours on your sleeve.

He's also thinking that you're stunning. The dress and the cardigan and the ribbon-wrapped bottle of wine didn't match the energy upstairs, but it's perfect here. Cool evening, yellow streetlight, and a girl. It's cinematic.

Your eye contact is only broken when a car pulls up to the curb, "Jeongguk?" Someone barks from inside.

"Yeah," he says softly. He blinks, hoping the spell will be broken. But whatever kind of magic that existed before still exists when he opens his eyes. You're still watching him, frozen on the sidewalk. He climbs into the car feeling that same eerie kind of magic snaking around his heart.

That night you dream of him. The way he looked at you on the street. The dewy softness of his skin in the yellow light. The feeling between you both.

You wake up in a sweat, your body remembering something your mind can't fathom. Ghost fingers caress your skin and make your blood burn. You stumble to the kitchen for water, trying to rid your mind of his face. It's 3 AM and you lie awake trying to forget him.

It's 3 AM and Jeongguk needs to sleep. He has practice in the morning, class after that. He was going to do laundry, catch up on some homework. He was going to relax for the first time in a few days, no parties, no plans. Just himself, some video games, and some soju.

Instead, he has long since kicked off all his sheets, skin heated from thoughts of you. The image of you on the sidewalk conjures so many other pictures. But they don't feel like fantasies, they feel like memories. Images of lives forgotten. It's making his blood warm and his body overheat. He burns through his buzz and tries to think of anything else.

The next morning, when Jeongguk's alarm goes off at 7 AM, he feels dead inside but also a little high. It feels like the one time Taehyung convinced him to do ecstasy ("It's a college experience!") and his heart felt like it was going to explode. But that feeling eventually wore off. It's been hours and he feels both hungover and like he could run a marathon. It's fucking wild.

He rolls out of bed, landing on his feet with a thump. His head feels like a 20-pound weight on his neck and it hurts when he blinks. What the hell, he thinks, did someone spike my fucking drink last night?

Jeongguk meanders to his bathroom, wincing at his own reflection in the mirror. He closes his eyes and tries to inhale as much oxygen as possible. If he stays perfectly still, nothing hurts. He hears his phone ding from the other room and he knows it's Jimin complaining. With a sigh and another stabbing pain in his head, he reaches blindly for his toothbrush and toothpaste.

He spits into the sink and looks up at his reflection again. He should probably shave. He should probably shower, truth be told. But he'll work up a sweat at practice so he might as well wait till later. Besides if he even tried to do anything more complicated than get dressed his body might fall apart. He already feels like 110 degrees just standing.

He swipes his phone from the nightstand on his way back into the room.

Jimin: who the fuck talked me into this

Jimin: 8 am dance practice

Jimin: are they fucking crazy

Jeongguk chuckles.

JK: So you're pretty hungover

Jimin: shut up

Jeongguk laughs again and launches the phone toward the bed. He steps out of the shirt and boxers he wore to sleep, relief flowing through him at the cool air on his skin. Maybe I'm getting sick, he thinks.

He pulls a pair of sweats and an oversized tee from his closet, slipping into them before stuffing a pair of jeans and a second shirt into his duffle for practice. He checks there's a full stick of deodorant and the travel-sized soaps Jin got for him forever ago.

He swings the bag over his torso, pausing in front of his bedroom window. He loves the view from here. It's nothing special. His apartment is on the 10th floor, just high enough to clear most of the buildings on this side of town. He can see a mountain range in the distance and the sky. He's spent all semester trying to capture it in his art class, but none of his renderings do it justice.

Then, as he's about to turn and leave, the sun breaks over the horizon and he's struck. His whole body flushed warm and soft pink, an image fogging his mind.

A similar sunrise. A girl wrapped in a sheet wrapped in his arms. The smell of peonies and citrus. A rose gold tint on his skin.

When his mind clears, he's still standing by the window, drenched in sweat. He's breathing heavily but his headache is gone and his fever has broken.

You're already awake when your alarm goes off. You're sitting at your desk with a fan on high pointed at you. It could be 102 degrees outside for how hot you feel. You slept on and off for a few hours, but every time you drifted off your dreams…

You try to clear your head, but his face pervades your thoughts. The dreams were inconsistent and fleeting; there were different scenarios, time periods, and people. But the one constant was him. The stranger you'd met briefly last night.

You run a hand through your hair and shut off your alarm, glancing at your notifications and seeing a text.

Taehyung: you didn't come to my party!! :(

Guilt wells within you and you twist your mouth trying to think of the best response.

You: Sorry! Last minute study group!!

You flip your phone upside down then so that you don't have to look at it. You don't have class for another few hours, but you're so warm that you can't think of anything but a cold shower.

You just stand to go into the bathroom when your phone dings again. Twice in a row.

Taehyung: fiiiine next time then!

Joy: coffee before class?? around 9?

You text back quick affirmative responses and head into the shower.

Jeongguk pulls up to the apartment building in his purple, beaten up Toyota Corolla and honks his horn. It takes three full minutes for Jimin to come stumbling out. He looks almost as bad as Jeongguk this morning, sleep-deprived and hungover but with large purple hickies littered over his neck.

Jeongguk is nearly glaring at them by the time he climbs into the car.

"What?" Jimin says, stuffing his duffle bag between his legs.

"Subtle," Jeongguk grumbles, shifting gears and pulling out of the parking spot.

"Taehyung's a biter," Jimin says lightly. He reaches forward to swipe Jeongguk's phone from the dash and change the music, and Jeongguk catches sight of the Chinese character imprinted on his wrist. Friends.

Jeongguk sighs, squinting out at the road, a pang of loneliness wrinkling his brow.

You're already sitting with a cup of hot apple cider and a book when Joy walks in. She dives through the mid-morning crowd bumblingly, accidentally hitting people and stopping to apologize several times. When she finally slides into the seat opposite you, she's out of breath.

You slide the hot chocolate and ice water you'd ordered for her across the counter. She pauses, somewhat surprised at your thoughtfulness, before smiling and thanking you.

"Sure," you grin and check your phone. Thirty minutes.

"You okay?" Joy wonders, wincing when she sips her hot chocolate and it's too hot.

You shake your head and run your fingers through your hair. "I think I might be getting sick," you say, tucking your book into your bag and sipping your cider again.

"Oh no," Joy pouts, "Are you sure you wanna go to class? Cuz we can totally skip!"

You narrow your eyes at her playfully, "Why would you skip?"

She chokes on her drink slightly and sputters, "Uh, solidarity."

"Of course," you giggle.

Dance practice was...fine. But Jeongguk realizes too late that he's irritable and that dancing isn't helping. Usually dancing always helps; he has to focus so intently on his body and it's movement that everything else escapes his attention. But today he doesn't even know why he's upset so nothing helps.

But he thinks maybe it's because of soulmates. Jimin and Hobi are both in this class, both with soulmates, and they aren't even talking about them but Jeongguk feels like he would rather bang his head against the wall than be near them.

And that's frustrating because he loves them, they're two of his best friends.

He does a series of pop and lock movements that the teacher demonstrated earlier with so much aggression that it's almost like krumping. He doesn't get why he's this angry. The soulmate thing...it's never bothered him this much. He has long since accepted that it's not in the cards for him. And even at his worst moments, he feels more sad than angry…

He leaves class with a half-hearted wave to Jimin and Hoseok before disappearing into the showers. He feels so flushed it's almost like he's going to pass out so he cranks the knob to cold water and lets it run over his hair and back, sighing at the relief as his body temperature goes back to normal.

Suddenly a spasm runs through his body, electrocuting him and sending his mind spiraling. He braces himself against the wall of the shower, the water cascading down his back.

Everything is misty and foggy and the grass beneath his feet is damp and soft. There's a person a few feet ahead of him, staring at the large expanse of the forest beneath the hill. The sun breaks over the horizon and the person turns to him—

"Hey, Kook, you good?" someone says from behind him, a towel hitting him square in the back the head.

No, he thinks, definitely not good. His whole body feels weak and exasperated, his mind hazy with confusion and memories he doesn't recognize. He knows the person he just saw but he can't place it. The memory feels familiar and yet separate from him somehow. His chest tightens uncomfortably.

"Yeah, fine," he mumbles, reaching for his shampoo.

You and Joy split after your first class. She has an art seminar on the other side of campus and you're free for another few hours. You wave her off and turn in the direction of the quad; the weather is nice and you want to spread out on the grass with your assigned novel for Lit.

But somehow, you find yourself in front of the music hall. It's almost like waking up after a blackout, you have no idea how you got here. You've only ever walked by the building, it's by your favorite coffee cart and across the street from the building where you take poli sci, but you've never been inside.

And now you're standing on the sidewalk, staring up at the funky Art Deco designs of the courtyard, with an insistent need to go in. It's like there's a cord anchored in your chest gently tugging you in this direction.

Your brows are furrowed in thought when you see him. His hair is damp and his expression is serious; he's wearing a giant white t-shirt and hip-hugging jeans, and your brain immediately conjures very sexual images in your head. Dirty, dirty thoughts that make you blush and turn away from him.

Jeongguk spots you, too, and it stops him in his tracks. Your back is to him and he can't place where he's seen you before, or even conjure specifically your face in his mind, but your posture strikes him immediately as being the same as from that memory.

His heart hammers against his rib cage and he's sweating, his mouth opens as if to call out to you, but it gets stuck in his throat. What would he say?

"Hey, want to walk together?" Hobi approaches him from behind, clasping a hand around his neck and squeezing comfortingly.

"Uh, yeah," he says, shaking his head to clear his thoughts. When he looks back up you're gone.

Am I fucking hallucinating?

Hoseok is watching him with a concerned look and Jeongguk forces a smile. Best not to say anything, he thinks, it's probably just a bad day.

You're not sure why, but you're hiding. You ducked behind a tree, your heart racing. Your palms and forehead are sweaty, and you lose your breath when you realize why. The dreams.

You peek out from behind the tree to see him walking away with another guy, down toward the science library. You breathe a sigh of relief and step out. What the fuck? you think.

Jeongguk can't focus on his Weather Studies class, although that's not unusual, he spends the entire time sketching out the scene from this morning on the edge of his notebook. Taehyung yawns and leans against his shoulder heavily, peeking at the sketch and saying, "New idea for your art project?"

Jeongguk shakes his head sharply but otherwise doesn't respond. His pencil scratches on the paper rapidly, making quick decisive movements that surprise even himself. His usual approach to art is planned and a bit apprehensive, but he never dives in like this without at least thinking about where to go next.

Now, though, he just has that memory? Flashback? Whatever it is imprinted beneath his eyelids and he can't think of anything to do with it except get it onto paper.

Taehyung watches Jeongguk's profile for a moment in concern. He's acting colder than usual and he's never seen the maknae sketch with such intensity.

Taehyung straightens and tries to shrug it off. It's probably just a bad day. He pulls out his phone and scrolls through his lastest messages from Jimin.

Chim: kookie was acting weird at practice

Tae: weird how???

Chim: 🤷🏼‍♀️

Chim: upset about something maybe? Idk

Taehyung glances back over at Jeongguk, a crease forming in his brow as he watches anxiously. Without looking up from his page, Jeongguk says: "Stop it, hyung."

Tae nearly jumps out of his seat, but otherwise turns away, frowning.

Jeongguk keeps sketching and he feels bad. His voice was colder than he'd intended and harsher. He knows Tae is sensitive to those kinds of mood shifts and he wants to reach over and apologize, offer to buy lunch to make up for it, but he's still irritable. He tells himself he'll make it up to him later.

"Bye," Jeongguk says at the end of class without waiting for Taehyung. The elder watches him go with a frown. He clicks to call Jimin before he's even left the classroom, sniffling.

You end up in your building for poli sci instead of the quad, sitting in the hallway outside the classroom to wait another hour and a half. You're sipping on the sugary iced coffee you bought downstairs, earbuds in, eyes closed, listening to music.

His face swims before your eyes. He's so handsome that it makes your heart physically hurt. He's smiling with his nose scrunched, leaning in so that your foreheads touch. His lips are moving but you don't know what he's saying. A warm feeling crowds your chest and heats your skin.

You blink awake to find forty-five minutes have passed. Your coffee is sitting by your side, condensation pooling on the tile. You press the back of your hand to your cheek and find that you're flushed, beads of sweat on your forehead. You feel woozy like you might pass out.

Someone says your name and you blink up at them, your mind refusing to focus. The person kneels down in front of you, "Hey, are you okay?"

You blink again, "Taehyung?" His boxy smile comes into focus and you squeeze your eyes shut hard before opening them again.

Taehyung tilts his head to the side and says, "Taking a power nap?"

"Um, I guess," you whisper, taking his hand as he helps you stand. You lean against him heavily as you start to fall forward once you're on your feet.

"Woah," he says, "Alright?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm...fine." You shake your head, willing the room to stop spinning and your skin to cool down. Everything begins to straighten out and you say, "Woah, that was weird." You pull away from him and fan your face with your hand.

"I didn't know you had a class in this building," you say.

"Yeah," he rolls his eyes, "there's this logic course I take instead of math." He sticks his tongue out, "Hate it. Logic is for pussies." As he runs a hand through his hair, you spot the Chinese symbol on his wrist, friendship. His soulmate mark.

You force a smile and avert your eyes, glancing over to see your classmates filing into the room. "Oh, I should go."

"Okay, feel better." Taehyung's mouth twists into another frown as he watches you disappear into the classroom. Everyone's weird today, he thinks.

Jeongguk blows off the rest of his classes to run laps. He obviously can't be trusted to be around other people. The look on Tae's face as he ran out of class haunts him; it pushes him to run harder, faster, until his lungs, legs, and heart hurt.

Nothing's helping. He's still so irritable. Like there's something beneath his skin. He skids to a stop when he feels a swell of nausea in his stomach, his skin flushing from something other than running. He stumbles and barely catches himself, sinking to his knees as a memory comes to him unbidden.

"Wooo!"

He looks over. A beautiful girl in the stands with a handmade banner. There's a name on it that is unfamiliar but that is his. Someone bumps into him and he's...playing soccer. He kicks the ball and it goes flying into the net, cheers erupt around him.

His teammates slap him on the back and the girl barrels toward him, arms looping around his neck and squeezing.

Jeongguk blinks and the memory's gone. "You," he whispers, finally placing your face. "From the party." He falls on his back on the track, staring at the sky, unable to shake your image from his mind. "Who are you?"

Days pass like this. Days of endless wandering and a heat so extreme that Jeongguk peels off layer after layer of his clothing until he's laying in bed with nothing but his boxers on. Days of memories and flashbacks so intense it's like a bad trip. Or a good trip? The memories make him feel warm and fluttery, but when they're gone he's left in a cold sweat with a feeling of longing so painful it's like being shot.

You spend the next week and a half similarly. Lounging around in just your underwear and a camisole, fanning yourself with whatever you can find. You can't sleep. Your dreams are so lifelike and you wake up drenched in sweat. And it hurts. The waking up is a nightmare because it leaves you feeling so lonely and lost. You sit up in bed and wonder why you're alone. Something is missing and you don't dare admit to yourself that it might be the person that stars in your dreams, the tall, handsome man who takes you in his arms…

Sometimes you wake up crying. Sometimes you cry as soon as you wake up. Sometimes you stare at the ceiling and wonder if morphine would even be powerful enough to dull the pain.

Jeongguk gets fed up on day nine post-party, and calls Taehyung. It's 2 AM.

"Hello?" Taehyung answers, his voice thick with sleep. Jeongguk can hear Jimin mumbling curse words in the background. "Kookie?"

"Who is she, Tae?" Jeongguk growls, surprising himself.

"What?" He says, confused.

Jeongguk scrunches his face up in frustration, trying to calm down enough to have an actual conversation with an actual person. He breathes deeply.

"There was a girl," Jeongguk says and his voice is like a string pulled taut, all tension, "She came to your party, but she didn't come inside. She was wearing a dress."

"What? What are you talking about?"

"The girl, Tae!" Jeongguk snaps, lashing out and kicking the small trash can by his desk so that it goes flying into the wall. "The beautiful girl in the sundress with the bottle of wine! She obviously knew you, but she didn't go inside. Who is she?"

On the other end of the line, Taehyung is staring at Jimin with fear in his eyes. Jimin swipes the phone from his other half and growls into the speaker, "What the hell, Jeongguk? You can't just call us in the middle of the night and demand answers to vague-ass fucking questions! You need to calm down."

Jeongguk has the urge to throw his phone against the wall. He wants to trash his apartment. He wants to go out and start a fight. "Whatever," he growls into his phone, the line going dead.

You don't leave your house for days. Three to be precise. On day four you realize you're running out of food. Two more protein bars, a handful of potato chips, a questionable apple.

You pick the protein bar and lay back down in bed. You're torn between wanting to sleep and staying awake. Exhaustion coats your skin beneath the heat, you feel it in your limbs and your eyelids. You're so tired. And you want to see him. That beautiful slim face, those bright wide eyes. You want to feel his hands against your skin and in your hair, his lips dragging across your shoulders and neck, his voice floating in the air like music.

It's like a drug. But when the high's gone, you're left with a terrible feeling. An emptiness. Loneliness. You chew slowly at your granola bar, fighting to stay awake and losing.

When you come-to, Joy is in your apartment. She has her hands wrapped around your upper arms and is shaking you awake. When you blink your eyes open she nearly collapses on the floor, "Oh, thank god."

"What is it?" You say and your voice is dry and quiet. It hurts to speak.

"I've been texting and calling," she says, watching you with a frazzled expression, "I haven't heard from you in three days!" She leans forward and cups your cheek in her hand, "Are you okay?" Her voice is gentle now.

You look over and into the mirror, surprised to find red streaks on your cheeks. From crying. You haven't really looked at yourself in three days and it's shocking how different you look. You haven't showered; your hair is dirty and piled on your head, skin oily and blotchy from crying. But it's the sadness, so plainly evident in your face, that makes the tears come again.

"I need you to take me to the doctor," you whisper.

On day thirteen since Taehyung's party, Seokjin organizes a get together with just the seven of them with the full intention of having a conversation with Jeongguk about his behavior. Something is obviously wrong and he must talk to them about it.

Jeongguk goes. Even though he doesn't want to, even though he thinks he will probably end up doing or saying something stupid. Even though his skin feels like fire and every bone is filled with lead.

He's the last to show up and he does find this suspicious but he's too tired to do anything about it. The apartment smells like kimchi and gochujang, and he can hear everyone talk quietly with each other. There's music in the background that's soft and soothing so he thinks Namjoon probably got to the speakers first.

Jeongguk slides onto the couch without greeting them. He sinks into the soft pleather and feels as if he could fall asleep then and there.

"Hey." He knows it's Namjoon without having to open his eyes. "Kookie, can we talk to you?"

Jeongguk squeezes his eyes tighter. This is just like them. To do something considerate and caring and try to talk to him about what's going on. But how can he talk to them about it if even he doesn't know?

He opens his eyes slowly and sees that all six of his hyungs have gathered around him.

"Is everything okay?" Namjoon says and when Jeongguk meets his eyes they're dark and filled with concern. It stabs at his heart.

"Yeah, you've been acting kind of weird," Hoseok adds, sitting down next to the maknae. Jeongguk frowns and tries to look away from all six of them at once. He stares at his lap.

"That phone call to Tae the other night…" Jimin whispers. He was angry that night, but now distress is laced into his words.

"Are you mad at me?" Taehyung squeaks. Jeongguk's head snaps up to look at him at that, finding him clinging to Jimin's arm and looking so upset it breaks him.

"No, no, of course not," Jeongguk gushes, shaking his head.

"Then what's wrong?"

What's wrong. What's wrong, Jeongguk? You can talk to us. What's wrong? They're all talking. Talking talking talking. All their voices jumble and hit his ears at once. And he's so hot. And tired. And woozy.

"I don't know what's wrong with me!" He screams, wrenching his hands through his hair painfully. All six of his friends watch him in shock. Most of them have never heard Jeongguk so much as raise his voice. Now his hair is plastered to his forehead, there are deep purple shadows beneath his eyes, he looks pale and sunken.

"Kookie, when was the last time you slept?" Jimin wonders softly.

Jeongguk clenches his jaw, "I can't sleep. Every time I close my eyes, I see her."

A look goes around the group before Jin finally steps forward and presses a hand to Jeongguk's forehead. "You're burning up."

Jeongguk nods, leaning into the cool temperature of Jin's palm. He speaks softly now, exhausted, "For days."

"Maybe we should take him to a hospital," Taehyung suggests quietly.

"When did this start, Kook?" Yoongi steps forward.

"Last week, after Tae's party." He pauses as Hoseok hands him a glass of water, gulping it down quickly.

"After you met that girl?" Namjoon says suddenly, his voice strung with tension, "Taehyung's friend?"

Jeongguk nods, letting Jin and Hoseok guide him to a chair at the kitchen table. Immediately, he leans against the table's surface, pressing his cheek against the cool wood and exhaling softly.

"Okay, okay," Namjoon says, flinging his hands in the air dramatically, "Wait a sec!"

"What? Namjoon—" Hoseok starts, but he's already run from the room.

Jimin sits beside their youngest member at the table, pushing the messy mop of dark hair from his forehead paternally. He presses the back of his hand to Jeongguk's skin and whispers softly, "It's going to be okay."

"Got it!" Namjoon says, losing his balance, socks sliding against the hardwood floor as he runs back into the room. He rights himself and sits on the other end of the table, opening the book he's brought with him and flipping through it.

"Okay," Namjoon scans the page, his finger flying fast down the text until he reaches a certain point, "Ha! Okay Kook, so you've been having hot flashes? A fever since that day?"

Jeongguk nods half-heartedly. The coolness of the table and the water have helped, he feels like someone drowning finally breaking through the surface. But he's still barely treading water.

"Have you been experiencing vivid, life-like dreams, daydreams, or memories?" Namjoon reads, some of the others coming to stand behind him, looks of shock on their faces as they realize what he's reading.

"Yes," Jeongguk groans, "I can't sleep."

"Do they focus on a particular event or person?"

Jeongguk sits up at that, leaning back in his chair and mustering as quizzical a glare as he can summon. "Yes, always her."

"Does your mind wander and you suddenly find yourself somewhere you've never been before but that seems familiar?"

Jeongguk thinks of the bookshop on the outskirts of town. "Yes."

"Have you found any birthmarks or tattoo-like marks on your body since the fever and the dreams started?" All six pairs of eyes watch him expectantly.

"What?" He says, "No."

Jimin's brow furrows. "But what about the heart-shaped mark on your forehead, by your hairline? That hasn't always been there has it?"

"The what?"

Jeongguk pulls out his phone faster than he thought possible, switching it to selfie mode and pulling his hair away from his face. Holy fucking shit. There's a pale pink heart peeking out from his hairline.

"It's a Late-Onset Soulmate Bond!" Namjoon exclaims, slamming his book shut to reveal the title. Modern Soulmate Science and Theory.

"What does that mean?" Taehyung wonders.

"According to my class, it's an incredibly rare type of soulmate bond. As you know, 98% of soulmate bonds occur in adolescence, with a person's individual bond type manifesting around puberty, usually represented by a mark on the body. 1.9% never manifest a soulmate bond at all. And the remaining 0.1% are assumed to have no soulmate bond, but then meet their soulmate later in life, resulting in these symptoms," Namjoon explains.

"But why are they so severe?" Yoongi says.

"Yeah, when my soulmate bond manifested I was only out of school for a day," Taehyung adds.

"Adolescent bodies and minds are more elastic and are thus more adaptable to changes. When a soulmate bond manifests, it takes less out of an adolescent body. It's also theorized that Late-Onset Soulmate Bonds are borne of past lives, and it's only when the two souls physically meet that the bond can be reawakened. Of course, this theory has been often hypothesized because of the memory-like dreams experienced by the soulmates, but research thus far has been inconclusive. At least…" Namjoon says, finally looking around to find his friends dumbfounded, "that's what my textbook says."

"So, she's my soulmate?" Jeongguk says softly. He's gone completely still.

"I think so, Kook," Hoseok beams down at him.

"I...I have a soulmate?"

The doctor is smiling at you so warmly that it's starting to give you the creeps. You can tell she's expecting you to react a certain way - cry, cheer, hug her maybe - but all you feel is shock.

"What...does this mean?"

The doctor blinks as if you'd asked her to explain the meaning of life. It takes her a moment to respond, "You find them, of course."

"How do I do that?"

"It's whoever it was when the symptoms first started." She's still looking at you like you're going to cry from happiness.

"Will the symptoms stop?"

The doctor nods. "Yes, to abate the symptoms, you have to..." her faces scrunches up, "exchange bodily fluids."

"I'm sorry, what?" you stutter, "We have to...do we have to—"

"Oh!" the doctor shakes her head, "While that would do it, a kiss will suffice."

You leave the clinic fifteen minutes later. The doctor is still watching you expectantly but you can't find it in yourself to have a big flood of emotion. You don't feel that way. You've seen soulmate matches in real life before, there's always tears and giant grins. The love becomes almost palpable.

But all you feel is apprehensive.

You'd be lying if you said you hadn't spent most of middle and high school daydreaming of having a soulmate. But after it became clear that you didn't have one...it was just too painful to keep daydreaming. So you closed off that part of yourself with a heavy padlock, resigned to your fate.

You're not sure you even have the key to unlock it anymore.

You're standing on the sidewalk with your phone in your hands. Alone. Joy was running late for work and, although it took some convincing, she left.

You stare at the black screen. You know who it is; you're... soulmate. Your mind skips on the word, it feels awkward in your mouth. But it's obviously that stranger from the night of the party. You can conjure his face in your mind easily now. And if the doctor is correct, you've seen his face from dozens of different lifetimes.

Meeting him would be as simple as texting Taehyung. But there's apprehension caged in your chest like a nervous bird.

Ding!

But it looks like you won't have a choice.

Unknown Number: Hi, this is Jeongguk. I'm a friend of Taehyung's.

"Are you sure I should've texted her?" Jeongguk worries his bottom lip and stares at his phone. His hands are shaky and the smell of ramen coming from the kitchen makes his stomach growl. He turns to look wide-eyed at him, "Are you sure it's her?"

Taehyung nods, "She's the only person I know who could match the description you gave me."

When a full minute passes and the screen still holds only his message and 'delivered' Jeongguk thunks his head against the table heavily. Yoongi snorts a laugh out through his nose at this and when Jeongguk turns his head to glare at him the elder keeps his eyes on his phone. But he's still grinning.

"Kook, it's going to be fine," Jimin says, taking the bowl of noodles Jin handed him and placing it on the table by Jeongguk.

"Maybe she's just busy?" Hoseok offers, taking his own bowl.

Jeongguk hits his head softly against the table a couple of times. He sits up, pausing when he feels the telltale signs of a flashback under his skin.

A small retro apartment with linoleum floors. A kitchen with pale green cabinets. A flimsy card table and folding chairs. And you, in a ratty apron smiling at him like there's nowhere else you'd rather be.

Jeongguk shakes his head and the memory dissipates. His chest feels a little lighter, though, and his fever's gone. The memory infuses him with confidence. As awkward and weird as the next part is, it's meant to be.

When he looks up, everyone is now seated at the table and they are all staring at him. "What?"

"Well, aren't you going to see what she said?" Yoongi asks, deadpan.

Jeongguk looks down at his phone. It's lit up with a message from you.

You: The one I met at the party?

You: I guess we need to talk...

Jeongguk's not sure what he was expecting. But he wasn't sure he had ever anticipated this level of awkwardness. If he's being honest, he was hoping for one of those heartfelt soulmate matches he's witnessed from the sidelines for so long. But you're just sitting opposite from him at a coffee shop, staring at the mug of hot cocoa you'd ordered.

Your face looks so uncomfortable. So, instead, he watches your hands as they trace the funky art design on the mug, shift it back and forth. His focus catapults him into a flashback.

You're both still sitting at a table, one that's small and wooden and sturdy. The mug in your hands this time is black and glazed and he knows that he's the one who made it. You're smiling.

He's gotten so used to the flashbacks now that it doesn't take any effort for him to adjust back to the present. All he thinks about is that he wants to see you smile now, at him in the present.

His chest hurts with longing. Maybe it's worse to know he has a soulmate and not be with them. At least before his pining was arbitrary and foundationless.

"Are you okay?"

He looks up from the mug and you're staring at him openly, your eyes wide and concerned. He tilts his head, "Huh?"

"What was that?" You wonder, "You like...zoned out for a second."

"Flashback," Jeongguk frowns.

"What?"

"You don't get...flashbacks?" He stares.

You shake your head, "Dreams."

"Dreams?"

He hopes you'll elaborate, but you just stare down at the table. His heart feels heavy.

Your mind is blank. You feel so nervous and anxious that unshed tears are burning your eyes. You feel like a disappointment. You feel like you're doing this wrong, like you should be more and do better.

Your bottom lip is bruising from chewing on it nervously. You haven't even taken a drink of your hot cocoa.

It's so weird, him being here. You've seen his face over a dozen times since that first night but it's different when he's here. When he's so close that you could run your fingers through his hair or draw stars on his cheeks or run your thumb over his bottom lip.

Desire swirls in your stomach and turns to disappointment. So many things you want and feel you don't deserve. So many things you had accepted that you would never have and here they are. The possibility hurts more than the clear cut absence.

He starts to drum his fingers against the table and you let your eyes move over to them. It's his right hand, littered with tattoos. There are sets of initials on his knuckles, a heart on the back of his hand, a smiley face on one of his fingers. They're kind of quirky and you like them. You want to know what they mean.

Jeongguk's hand freezes when he sees you staring. You blush and look away. He's surprised to find that this gives him hope. You're interested. There's just something stopping you.

He can work with that.

"So," he tries again, "how do you know Taehyung?"

Jeongguk is relieved when you look up at him. It's odd to think but he really likes your face. Clear, expressive eyes and soft lips. And when you're looking at him...everything clicks. It's like finding his place in the world. Finally, obviously. It's by your side.

You narrow your eyes, "He didn't tell you?"

Jeongguk shakes his head and sips at his ice water. He holds his hands up as quotation marks and says, "It's something the two of you should talk about." He shrugs, running his fingers through his hair, "Why? Is it bad?"

You sigh and sip your cocoa to buy time. "No."

Jeongguk opens his mouth to say something, his eyes alive with the playful comment he had planned, but he's interrupted by a crash.

Directly beside you, a man drops his mug of coffee and it shatters on the ground, splashing your leg, shards of porcelain slicing your ankle.

You gasp, but your reaction is lost when you see the scene play out before you. The man who dropped the cup is wearing khakis and a button-down, but more noticeably there is a large, dark birthmark spanning his cheek, jaw, and neck. Across the room his eyes have found a woman, older than he is, dressed in a bohemian-style, with the exact same mark on her face.

Soulmates.

You'd seen this play out before and avert your eyes.

Jeongguk watches every detail. It's hard to describe, and others say that to truly understand, you have to experience it. But it's almost like the world slows down for these people, everything else fades and it's just them and the start of their new life.

When Jeongguk's eyes find you again, he's surprised to see how painful you find this. There are tears in your eyes.

"Hey, are you okay? I know that it can be—" He holds his hand out but stops himself short of touching you.

You shake your head. He's not wrong, that is part of it; these displays have always...bothered you. But it's mostly, "My leg," you wince.

Jeongguk's eyebrows rise to his hairline and he ducks over and beneath the table to inspect your leg. The whole side of your calf is soaked and the exposed skin of your ankle beneath your cuffed jeans is flushed from the hot coffee and bleeding.

"We should go," Jeongguk insists. Ignoring the display of love beside you, he shoves the stranger out of his way and helps you stand.

Jeongguk keeps an arm around your back and you just barely hear him whisper, "Lean on me."

Compelled by something beyond your control, you do.

You hobble out of the cafe and onto the sidewalk together, pausing as your adrenaline ebbs in the open space.

"Um," you fumble, trying to retrieve your phone from your purse despite being held up almost entirely by Jeongguk. It doesn't help that he smells like fabric softener and boy and it's making you lose concentration. "I just need to call a car."

"What?" Jeongguk shakes his head, "No." Using his arm at your back, he steers you down the sidewalk and away from the cafe. "My place is literally right here."

"Oh, no, I couldn't," you shake your head, but your body doesn't get the memo. One of your hands is twisted into the fabric of his cotton shirt, turning you so that you're almost hugging him as he helps you walk. Your mind won't listen to reason, you find yourself helpless in the face of your desire to stay in his arms.

"Please," he smiles warmly at you, "It's the least I can do." His nose scrunches up and his eyes crease, his front two teeth peeking out in an honest smile.

And now you know: you really are a goner.

Jeongguk lives in a cramped studio apartment. It smells like air freshener and fabric softener and...weed? Kind of. You're frozen in the doorway, leaning against his dresser to keep upright while he frantically clears the floor of his bags and schoolwork and art supplies.

The walls are covered in band posters and artwork (some of which you see is signed with a flourish of JK so you know it's his). There's a magnificent view of the mountains from out his window, mid-morning light pouring in and making the room stuffy. You let your eyes just barely skirt over his bed (which has a navy blue comforter and has been made), and move to look at this desk. There's a massive gaming computer, complete with a light-up keyboard, and different kinds of sound and editing equipment.

"Sorry," he says, grunting as he wrenches up the window, a brush of cold air coming in. "Wasn't expecting visitors." He's facing you, but his eyes are still skirting over his room.

"It's fine," you smile.

There's a long moment when Jeongguk finally looks at you, only mildly satisfied that there's nothing too embarrassing left out, and he just can't believe what he's seeing. You're his soulmate. You're in his room.

It's nighttime. You're standing in a dress that hugs your curves and hovering in the doorway. Your expression is nervous but hopeful as you step out of your heels. He's across the room, standing by the bed, his hands itching with the desire to touch you. "You sure?" he says, and his voice is soft and almost lost amongst the city sounds outside his window. You nod, stepping towards him.

Jeongguk comes back to the present, flushed and a little bit horny. Holy shit, he thinks.

"Flashback?" You wonder.

"Yeah," Jeongguk says, hiding his face in case it's too clear what he's thinking. He catches sight of your leg and jumps in the air, "Oh! Sit down!" He crosses the room and guides you to the expensive, high-backed desk chair, spinning around and darting into the bathroom.

You peek at the polaroids stuck to the edge of his computer screen. You recognize Taehyung and his soulmate Jimin, but everyone else are strangers. The one that catches your eye is of Jeongguk with six others (Jimin and Tae among them), they're standing in a line with Jeongguk in the middle holding a cake. Jeongguk looks younger, rounder cheeks and wider eyes. Scrawled beneath it is written Happy 16th, Kookie!!! -Hyungs

It makes you feel...warm and fluttery.

"Found it," Jeongguk chuckles, reappearing with the first aid kit and a towel. He kneels at your feet and the action feels familiar, like one of your dreams.

"What's it like?" You ask softly.

"Hmm?" Jeongguk says, intensely focused as he wipes the coffee from your ankle and starts disinfecting the cuts.

"The flashbacks."

"Oh," he says, pausing with a cotton swab above your skin. He shrugs and leans in closer as he starts again, "Just like memories. But I'm not expecting them," he chuckles. "Kind of like hiccups? Or sneezing?"

"Do they feel...real?"

Jeongguk leans back and watches your expression. He's surprised to find how scared you look, apprehensive. He can feel a flashback coming in his chest from this angle, but he's determined to answer.

"Kind of. It's like...watching a movie. I know that it's me, and you," he whispers, "and I empathize with them. But it doesn't feel like I'm living it." He looks away from you, the flashback he had sensed fading, and digs through the first aid kit for bandages. "It's like...the universe is giving me proof that it's meant to be. That we've done this before. That we will do it again. That this…" he pauses, wondering if he should say what he really thinks, finding that he can't say anything but the truth when he sees the vulnerability in your expression, "is a love that's meant to last lifetimes."

He pulls a bandage roll from the kit and his face scrunches up into that bunny smile from earlier, "Sorry, I know that was corny," he laughs, "also because this is all I have." He begins to wrap the gauze around your ankle, muttering that he really only has this stuff because of rolling his ankles and wrists during dance practice. But it sort of fades out as you identify the feeling that's formed in your chest...hope.

You avert your eyes, overwhelmed by the feeling of his hands on you and this light happy feeling crowding your chest. Your skin flushes but not in the hot flash way you've been experiencing all week, more pleasantly than that.

"Um," you stutter because you can't be alone with your thoughts anymore, "Who are all these people?" You wince at your own awkward attempt at conversation but Jeongguk laughs jovially.

He bounces up from his knees and squints at the birthday Polaroid you're motioning to. "Oh," he grins, his face doing that adorable bunny smile again, "My hyungs!" He peels the Polaroid off the edge of the monitor and hands it to you. His finger points to each person in turn as he says, "Jimin and Tae, you know them, Namjoon, Seokjin, Yoongi, and Hobi."

Your eyes follow his finger and then move to his face. He's lit up talking about them.

Your thumb moves over the center of the photograph where young Jeongguk stands, looking almost identical as right now. Completely overjoyed.

"How did you meet?" You whisper, feeling his proximity.

Jeongguk moves to sit on the bed and shrugs, "We all lived pretty close together, in the same neighborhood. I've always gone to the same school as Jimin and Tae, they're one year ahead of me. Namjoon and Hobi were seniors when I was…" he thinks, screwing his face in concentration, "a freshman? I think." He shrugs, "I don't really remember how it began, we've been friends forever."

"Wow," you say, looking down at the photograph again.

"Yeah. Namjoon-hyung is like the smartest person I've ever met, he speaks four languages and is working on a doctorate already. And Seokjin-hyung is so funny and he's helping me learn how to cook! He's gonna open his own restaurant one day, I think. And Yoongi-hyung's a composer! He even traveled with a national quartet once, as a pianist, but says he likes hip hop and rap more so now he's a producer. Hobi-hyung is the one who started teaching me how to dance, he says I'm pretty good, but I don't know… He's the captain of our dance team and is amazing! Jimin-hyung was the student body president of our middle and high school, and one of the top-scoring students in math, and a really amazing modern dancer. He almost joined a ballet company, but he said his body probably wouldn't be able to handle it so now he just does hip hop dance with me. I think he should be a choreographer or something but he's double majoring in math? I don't get it. And Taehyung is amazing! He's a theater major and he's starred in every school play that he's auditioned for, and he's the one who convinced me to start taking art classes. But I think I like film better, I'm not really sure, I—" Jeongguk stops abruptly when he sees your face, frozen in surprise. His cheeks turn pink and he says, "Sorry."

"No," you shake your head, "don't be sorry. They're your family. It's good to be so proud of them."

"Yeah," he says, scratching the back of his neck and looking away. I can't believe I just ranted about my six hyungs to my soulmate, he thinks, what a fucking nerd! God just be cool for once Jeon, just once!

He looks back over to you when your phone dings loudly. You reach into your pocket and pull it out, Jeongguk smiling at the corgi butt design decorating the case.

"Oh," you put the phone to your ear, "Hello? Joy?"

You turn away from him and he stands up quickly, wandering away under the impression of putting up the first aid kit to give you privacy. He hears you mumbling into the speaker, catches small snippets of your conversation.

"I think it is going well, actually—""

"No! Joy! Oh my god." He peeks out to see you blushing fuschia.

You talk for another minute before he hears, "Yeah, okay, maybe in an hour? I have to change first. Yeah, yeah, what would you do without me?" You laugh and hang up, Jeongguk reappearing from the bathroom. "Sorry," you say bashfully.

Jeongguk holds up his hands, "It's fine. Everything okay?"

You nod, chuckling to yourself, "My friend put off this project to the last minute and she needs my help. I need to go."

"Okay," Jeongguk nods, trying to hide how disappointed he is. He wonders if all soulmates feel this way when their other half leaves them, even if only temporarily. "I can give you a lift. If you want."

"Really?"

"Yeah," he grins, scooping his car keys from the top of his dresser and helping you stand.

You like this car. The washed purple color, the faded black seats. It smells like the sun and a bit of cologne. There's a stuffed D.va plush hanging from his rearview mirror that makes you laugh. As soon as he slid into the driver's seat he plugged his phone into the aux cord.

The car starts and "Circles" by Post Malone starts playing through the speakers.

"Oh, I love this song," you say, humming the lyrics under your breath.

Jeongguk looks at you like there's nothing else he will ever need. He realizes this is a bit extreme, but it feels accurate. "Me too," he grins, his nose scrunching up in a smile.

It takes you three days to text Jeongguk. Three days to decide that you want to and summon the courage. You feel nauseous when you send the text and unsure. And it takes nearly ten minutes of constant encouragement from Joy for you to hit send.

It takes three days for Jeongguk to get a text from you and it nearly drives his hyungs crazy. He jumps around their apartments muttering, "She said she would text me. She said that right?" His eyes dart frantically to whoever's in the room, "Right?"

"That's what you said," Yoongi responds lamely.

"So I shouldn't text her? I shouldn't? Like that would be a bad idea?"

Jimin laughs loudly and Taehyung chuckles under his breath. Seokjin steps forward and squeezes his shoulder, "Do not. Do not text her."

When his phone buzzes and he sees it's a message from you he nearly starts breakdancing in the middle of the room. Instead, he starts jumping up and down frantically, looking more like a bunny now than he ever has before.

"And?" Namjoon wonders, "What did she say?"

Jeongguk glances down, beaming, "Hi."

His hyungs roll their eyes.

You: Hi

You: Sorry I know it's been a few days…

Jeongguk can't stop himself from replying. He doesn't care about remaining aloof or mysterious. All he knows is that he's been dying to talk to you and now that he has the chance he won't let anything stop him.

JK: No it's fine! No worries!

JK: How are you?

You: good...busy

JK: oh yeah me too

Jimin snorts, reading over his shoulder, "As if you haven't been staring at your phone for three days waiting for her to text you."

"That counts as busy!" Jeongguk pouts, eyes straying back to his screen when he sees the text bubble floating beneath his last message. He hears Jimin say something else but he tunes it out.

You: I was thinking we could hang out again?

You: If you have time

You: If you're too busy, just forget I said anything

JK: YES

JK: Was that too eager?

JK: I don't care, let's hang out

You giggle down at your phone, warmth spreading to your cheeks and crowding your rib cage. Joy peeks over your shoulder curiously, "So who is this guy anyway? I was surprised when you said you had a date." She squints down at your screen, shoving you playfully, "And you like him!"

Your blush turns crimson and you can't force yourself to meet her eyes. She wraps her hands around your arm and shakes you vigorously, "I want all of the information right now!!!" She pauses, a thought occurring to her, and stops shaking you, "But...does he have a soulmate?"

You can tell she's afraid to ask the question. You've known Joy for almost five years now, and she's known about your lack of a soulmate bond for almost the entire time. She knows how uncomfortable it makes you and how depressed you get about it sometimes. She doesn't really want to ask because she doesn't want to ruin whatever happiness you've found. But it does need to be asked.

"That's the thing," you chew on your bottom lip. You're hyperaware that you've never said it aloud before but that you are about to now. "I'm his soulmate."

"Dinner, dinner, dinner," Jeongguk chants, standing in front of his closet with a serious expression. Behind him, Jimin is on his bed reading a magazine and Taehyung is spinning around in the computer chair. "Dinner," he says again, squinting.

"Just wear that yellow button-up and jeans," Jimin says absently.

"Yellow?" Jeongguk crinkles his nose in distaste. He only owns that shirt because Seokjin-hyung bought it for him. The rest of his closet is a spectrum of black and white. In fact, the only colorful items he owns are gifts from others.

"Don't get too goth on her just yet," Jimin chuckles.

Jeongguk pulls the shirt out with a sigh, holding it up to himself in the mirror and twisting his mouth in confusion. He hangs it on his closet door, turning back to his closet with the same frustrated expression.

"It's so weird," Taehyung says.

"What do you mean?" Jeongguk's eyes grow wide with concern.

"Just that...well for Jimin and I, after our soulmate bond manifested and we connected that was kind of...it, y'know? We didn't have to, like, do this whole courting thing." He shrugs.

"Yeah," Jeongguk sighs, "It's hard because I can see our whole history together and it's us but not us? I don't know how to explain it."

It's a nice night, a soft breeze and a clear sky. You have your arms wrapped around yourself as you wait in front of the restaurant, and your heart nearly stops when you see him. He looks like a god. He looks so good. Tight jeans and a perfect muted yellow shirt. His hair looks soft and smooth and it falls into his eyes. And he's smiling, his nose scrunches up happily. He's only walking at first but he starts jogging when he sees you.

When he stops in front of you, you know you should say something but can't find the words. There's a feeling in your chest. Disbelief. That he's here, that this perfect person is in your life, is forever intertwined with yours. You have the urge to run your fingers through his hair and you have a distinct feeling that it's something you've done before.

Instead, you let out a shaky breath and avert your gaze.

"I've never tried this restaurant," he says, tilting his head back to read the sign.

You're too aware of how close he is. Of how good he smells. Of the heat coming off his skin. You want to wrap your arms around him and hold him close to you, bury your face in his chest.

"I really like it," you say, turning away from him because you're afraid of what you might do otherwise.

The restaurant is small because you hate large restaurants that cram people inside. There's soft classical music playing from speakers and warm lighting. But what you like most is the metal archway over the entrance that has pure white jasmine strung through it. You walk through and instantly feel at ease from the smell.

"Oh, hello miss," the greeter says from behind your podium, recognizing you instantly.

You blush and smile at her, a bit embarrassed that he now knows how frequently you come here.

The hostess glances behind you and you see her eyes sparkle at the sight of him. You wonder if that's what you look like when you see him too. When she looks back at you she gives you a conspiratorial thumbs up, whispers, "You didn't tell me your soulmate was so hot!"

Your flush goes darker. Soulmate. She said it so casually. But you suppose it's true. He's your...soulmate. The word feels right.

"Table for two?" She smiles, "I think I have your favorite one open."

"Yes, thank you."

Jeongguk focuses back on you and grins cheekily, "How often do you come here?"

You avoid his eyes, "Couple times a week. I like to...study here."

You sit at a table on the open patio. String lights curl around the wooden awning and the metal fence. Tall potted plants are perched in the open spaces. On the table is a flickering yellow candle and a lavender bouquet.

The hostess gives you both menus before taking your drink orders. You ignore the menu, while Jeongguk opens his and starts perusing.

He's so focused that you let yourself watch him. He's so beautiful; dewy, glowing skin, plush, pink lips, wide, brown eyes. It all feels so familiar. Dinner in soft lighting, sitting across from each other.

Your cheeks heat up thinking about it.

Jeongguk is surprised that, despite how nervous he feels, the night is going so well. You both order wine and pasta and just...talk. There's a familiarity that pervades through the night that he keeps from thinking about; if he thinks about it he knows he'll just freak himself out. He tries to keep his hands busy to stop himself from reaching over and intertwining your fingers with his.

"I like your tattoos," you say softly. Your plates have been cleared and Jeongguk seriously considers ordering a second serving of dessert to prolong the date.

Jeongguk raises his eyebrows and looks down at this hand. He often forgets they're there. "Oh," he says, flexing his hand, "Thanks."

"What do they mean?" you cock your head to the side.

"Oh, the initials are for my hyungs," he blushes, "And the rest just...seemed like a good idea." He runs his hand through his hair nervously.

You grin and boldly reach across the table, your fingers wrapping around his wrist and pulling the appendage closer to the light. Your fingers trace softly over the inked pieces of his skin. You giggle at the smiley face on his finger, trace the heart on the back of his hand, tap each of the initials on his knuckles.

Jeongguk sucks in a breath as your fingers move up his forearm. You spend a long time on the flower decorating his arm, until Jeongguk finally says, "It's my, um, birth flower."

"Tiger flower," you whisper.

"Uh," he watches you with wide, doe eyes that reflect the flickering candle, "Yeah."

You meet his eyes, realizing suddenly how intimate this has become and pull back. Jeongguk coughs loudly, awkwardly, afraid he's having a heart attack from how fast his heart is beating.

"Is, uh, is yours on your forehead?"

"What?" you ask, wide-eyed.

Jeongguk sits up straighter and pulls his mop of dark hair from his face. There's a heart, just a shade or two pinker than his natural skin tone, peeking out from his hairline. A soulmate mark.

"I...don't know." You do the same as him, revealing your forehead and hairline.

Jeongguk's face transforms into a smile, his eyes light up happily. He presses two fingers to a spot just beneath your hairline, "Right. There," he says softly. He looks down at the table, his cheeks turning pink, "Meant to be," he whispers.

You let your hair fall back over your face, blushing.

The date goes well. The next three dates go well. A month passes and Jeongguk sees your progress. It's slow. You keep your distance. The fevers, dreams, flashbacks...they all continue. Subdued but still there.

You feel guilty. You know the solution. You're not sure if Jeongguk does, but either way, you're glad he hasn't forced you into anything physical. It's such a major shift in your worldview...you have a soulmate. You still have to remind yourself when you wake up in the morning.

"I'm not alone." You whisper it to your empty room. Your fingers find their way to your forehead to touch the heart that's now printed there. You stalk JK's social media and text constantly.

But every time you're with him (which is...as often as possible), something stops you. Fear, probably. You're afraid of making it real, of cementing everything.

Jeongguk's happy. Frustrated but happy. He can tell you're afraid, he senses your hesitation. He's glad, too, that things are moving slowly because he doesn't know what he's doing. He was popular in grade school, but soulmate bonds manifest during puberty. Once someone gets their soulmate mark...they pretty much refuse to make out with anyone else. He has little experience, but he doesn't care with you.

Anytime he's within six feet of you, his fingers start to twitch and his heartbeat quickens and he just...he just wants to wrap his arms around you and squeeze, he wants to kiss every inch of your skin, run his hands through your hair.

So he's frustrated. Because of the lack of physical intimacy, yes, but also because he doesn't know what you're afraid of. Or how to help.

And the flashbacks aren't helping. They feel like taunts. Like someone showing him something that could be his if only he'd do the right thing, say the right thing. It's infuriating.

"I think you should talk to her about it," Namjoon says flatly when he broaches the subject with his hyungs.

"Yeah, Kookie," Hobi says, looking up from the game of cards he and Yoongi are playing, "Can't resolve anything if you won't talk about it first."

Jeongguk huffs and throws himself against the couch, whiny.

It takes a week for him to build up the courage to bring it up. Date night.

You made sure to pick a movie for tonight that you'd seen before. You had made the preemptive decision to hold his hand. You did feel...slightly stupid for having to make a preemptive plan for something as innocent as hand-holding. But you figured that was the only way you were going to get yourself to do it.

So you waited until after dinner, halfway through the movie, the sun has set. You're sitting a few inches from him on the couch in the low lit room. You make a bit of a show of yawning and lean over.

His shoulders are broad and round and comfortable. Your cheek rests easily against him and you find a sense of security wrapping around you like a blanket from the proximity.

His hand is resting, palm up, on his thigh and you tentatively link your fingers through his.

You love his hands. Long fingers, soft palms, dark tattoos. It's warm and comforting, and they fit together perfectly.

Jeongguk doesn't need to bring it up, he realizes. This is progress. You're both trying. He squeezes your hand, leans his cheek against the top of your head. You fall asleep on his shoulder.

But it's getting worse. The dreams are so intense you can barely sleep. You keep waking up every few hours, remind yourself that he's real, talking yourself out of the anxiety. And his flashbacks are intense. Debilitating. He had one during dance practice and it ended up with him on the floor. The fevers are so intense sometimes that neither of you can move.

"Shit," he whispers one day, walking with your hands through the door of his apartment. You look over and find that he's drenched with sweat, his hair sticking to his forehead. He pales and his knees go weak.

"Woah, oh my god," you gasp, trying to hold onto him enough to ease him to the ground. "You're burning up," you whisper, pressing the back of your hand to his forehead.

Jeongguk shakes his head almost, "S'fine."

His eyes blink rapidly and refuse to focus, "Are you having a flashback?"

He shakes his head and you can tell he's trying to stay present but he's struggling. His skin is so hot and he's sweating so much...you think he might pass out.

You screw your face up. You know what you have to do.

You take his chin between your fingers and lift it up, leaning in and pausing, whispering sincerely, "I'm so sorry I put this off for so long." You close the distance between you both, your lips brushing softly, tentatively against his at first.

Jeongguk eyes open wide, his mind suddenly reeling back into the present. Your lips are pliant against his and he finds himself responding without thinking. He surges upward, his tongue slipping between your lips and into your mouth. His hand threads into your hair and presses your head closer.

Your hands grip tightly at his shoulders, your mouth opening in a gasp as he's suddenly so responsive. You feel his fever break beneath you, your lips moving of their own accord.

And then suddenly, it hits you. All your lifetimes. Every memory, every moment. And it's all...Jeongguk. You understand now, what he meant about the flashbacks, about how they're you but not you.

You pull away, resting your forehead against his. You're both breathing heavily, grinning like fools. You close your eyes and just smile, "I remember everything," you whisper.

"Me too," he whispers, and he peppers kisses across your nose and cheeks, "It's been so long. So many lifetimes." He pulls your hair away from your face and presses his lips softly to the heart-shaped mark on your forehead.

"I can't believe we found each other," you whisper, wrapping your arms around his back and pulling him into your chest, "Again."

"Always," he says, curling into your embrace so that his face hides in the dip of your neck, "Always. We'll always find each other."

"Always," you affirm. You kiss the mark on his forehead and say it again, "Always."

author’s note—i really really really love this; i'm so proud of it omg

m.list :: wips :: ao3

#bts #bangtanbuds #bts x reader #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jk #jk x reader #fluff #soulmate au

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