#im not sure yet if i will just up the chapter count again

[barblaz-arts]

Hello. Me again. I was wondering if you were going to continue your Chaggie fic, "The First Guest". No rush or anything, I know you might be busy, I was just curious.

I am still writing it, yeah. I wrote a bit more just last night actually! Motivation is just hard to keep hold of. Here let me show a little more of the wip

#it's at 2k words rn and yet it's only like 1 out of the four or so events that's supposed to happen in the third chapter #im not sure yet if i will just up the chapter count again #or just make chapter 3 longer than the first two

[claymorexpunisher]

I'll Shut You Up (18+ Fic) (Ch. 2/?)

Pairing(s): Rhea Ripley/Fem. Reader

Disclaimer: This is NSFW. If that's not your thing, keep scrolling. I try to tag my work appropriately and if you still choose to click and read, do so at your own discretion. ALWAYS make sure to discuss everything prior to engaging in ANY kinks… Thank you for the love always and I hope you enjoy!

Summary: It’s pretty well known that Rhea and Fem. Reader can’t stand one another. Reader thinks Rhea’s way cockier than she should be and Rhea thinks as highly about Reader as much as she thinks about the dirt at the bottom of her boot. Well… so they say, at least. A packed hotel mishap forces them to bunk together, and Rhea presses her luck by running her mouth.

Fic Tag(s): 18+, enemies to hatefucking, forced proximity, overbooked hotel, WM weekend, Bottom Sub!Rhea, Dom Top!Reader, bratty!Rhea, a little bit of oral (Rhea receiving) anal play/penetration, size difference, strap-on, nipple play, hair-pulling, spit for lube (I KNOWWW IM SORRY), begging, spanking, biting, slapping, choking.)

Chapter Word Count: 1,739

Prev Chapter

Because fate is a cruel asshole, I got exactly what I didn’t want.

“Absolutely fucking not.” I repeated, this time louder, my hands clenched so hard around the handle of my suitcase that my hands shook.

I watched Rhea’s smirk widen even more; she was clearly taking pleasure in my obvious irritation.

“I’m not sharing a room with you.” I spat once I shut the door behind me and I walked further into the room.

“Not like you have a choice, sweetheart.” Rhea replied, cool as a cucumber in bed.

The sheets covered her lower half until she decided to peel them back and saunter over towards me just to give me a condescending pat on the head as she toward over me, laughing at the way I glowered at her.

As I broke are stare-off, my eyes mistakenly wandered over her muscled frame, over her black sports bra and I stopped short- no pun intended- at her v-shaped underwear that quite literally left zero to the imagination.

“Eyes up here, cutie.” Rhea purred.

Her pointer and middle finger slowly lifted my chin and her eyes sparkled even as I batted her hand away and frowned deeper.

“I know I’m a sight for sore eyes but-”

“Oh my god. Do you ever shut the fuck up?!” I yelled as I rolled my eyes and shouldered past her with my luggage and I heaved the dark blue suitcase onto the couch a few feet from the bed.

“You always say that. And yet…” My skin prickled as I heard her coming up behind me and her warm breath ghosted over my ear as she murmured, “…and you’ve not made a single attempt to make me.”

There.

She’d used two of the magic words you could throw at a Dom Top and I began to salivate before I pulled myself back.

Barely.

“But then again, I don’t see how tiny little thing like you could possibly even try.” She laughed.

This time I decided I wasn’t gonna let her get the best of me.

“I don’t think you really want me to sort you out, sweetheart.” I replied, letting her see my words for what they were.

“Ooh, but I think I do.” Rhea replied with a slightly raspy giggle, gasping softly as her eyes landed on my open suitcase.

I was taking out my pj’s, completely forgetting about the red strap-on dildo that I had wrapped in plastic and stuffed onto the side of my suitcase.

“What are you doing with that?!” She asked, shock laced her tone.

Shock that irritated me to no end, but again, I remained calm.

Right then and there, I decided that enough was enough.

If Rhea was gonna keep baiting me, then like any effective Dom Top, I’d bite.

I’d bite until she yielded just like any brat eventually did if you push the right buttons.

“What do you think I’m doing with it? Putting a sock over it and making puppet shows on my spare time?” I retorted.

I watched Rhea’s hand reach around me towards the toy and I let her snatch it.

I was gonna let her have her fun for now…

While I continued sorting out my toiletries and picking my pjs, I stole a glance behind me, watching her inspect the toy.

I was immediately plagued my filthy thoughts of shoving that toy down Rhea’s throat until tears pooled in her eyes, making it nice and wet for what I was going to do her, and it was all I could do to not clench my thighs.

Once again, I was caught staring at the Aussie woman and our eyes met.

That damn persistent and infuriating smirk was back on her lips as she put the toy back where it was, but I set aside along with its harness.

“Who’s gonna use that on you? Because I really don’t see a tiny little thing like you using it on anybo-” Rhea’s words cut off as I interrupted, but I didn’t bother verbally answering her question.

“You walk around like you’re hot shit. Like you’re Hunter’s golden child… and I almost can’t blame you entirely. The way he’s paraded you around and talked big game about you…” I chucked and turned around to face Rhea, noticing the small step she took backwards.

Yeah, I was definitely starting to figure this woman out…

I reached out and pulled her towards me by her the elastic of her underwear.

I smirked a little as I watched and felt Rhea’s stomach muscles flex as she inhaled sharply.

“But you’re nothing more than a delusional shot at redemption and absolution for him. Absolution from his sins against someone he can no longer apologize to. You are the living embodiment of his guilt and regret. That is all you are to him. And deep down I think you know that… But he’s put so much energy and time into you and you… for as much as you say you’re no longer a people-pleaser-” I looked up at Rhea sharply, sensing that she was going open her smart mouth and I wasn’t wrong.

I was pleased to watch her mouth snap shut as soon as steely gaze met hers.

“Yes, I’ve watched some of your interviews, I’m not dumb. I study everyone in this locker room nowadays. Especially you.- And you walk around like you’re this… this alpha female. But you’re nothing more than an insecure little brat who needs the validation and a lot of attention and you don’t know how else to get it, so you’re completely okay with cosplaying as someone for some applause and attention and praise from your boss or from the fans. And now that I think about it, maybe even from me.” I continued and I noticed a switch flip at that, as if I’d hit a nerve.

But still, she said nothing.

Hm. Boring.

“You walk around as if being hand-picked by someone like him is some type of flex. Sweetheart, if you were sick and tired of cosplaying as a big, bad and Dominant woman when what you really want and need is to be in your place, then all ya had to do was ask.” My voice was down to a mere whisper. I watched goosebumps raise on Rhea’s skin as my fingers continued to explore the skin on her abdomen with every word I hissed at her.

Her momentary obedience was short lived and her eyes became furious.

Red-hot anger burned in them, along with something else entirely underneath that she seemed to try to smother.

But I was nothing if not observant…

All of it fueled me.

I drank it all up, and my eyes glinted in amusement now as her hips bucked a little and she silently urged my hand lower as if her body had a mind of its own and as if her anger was propelling her actions.

But I didn’t give her what she wanted.

Not yet at least.

The hand that was on the waistband of her panties slowly snaked upwards again, and my thighs became slick with my arousal as Rhea let out an involuntary sound that was a cross between a whimper and a growl.

“Fuck. You. You don’t know me-” Rhea snipped, eyes blazing with fury but I swiftly interrupted.

“Neither do you.” I replied sharply.

My traveling hand suddenly came upwards to grip her neck, not quite cutting off her breathing as much as cutting off the rant I knew was on its way.

The way she froze and suddenly went pliant fascinated me… and it just proved my points.

“You’re nothing but a carbon copy of someone else. I mean look at you, Rhea.” I said as my other hand went up to fiddle with a strand of her dyed hair.

“You have no idea who you are. Who you really are. You’re all bark and no fucking bite. Playing the role of someone else even when the cameras are offand I’m sick of it.” I growled. “I promise you, I could have you squealing like the fuckin virgin you seem to think I am, in .5 seconds.” I chuckled as her eyes widened for a fraction of a second.

Some of that cocky defiance returned to Rhea’s eyes but I could tell it was half-hearted.

But it fueled me just as much.

“Show me, then. Show me who I am… put me in my place.” Rhea purred, her tone and gaze seductive as she gazed down at my lips and back up at my eyes.

She then took advantage of the fact that my hand slackened a bit in surprise.

She was quick, but I was quicker and I moved my head before Rhea could sink her teeth into my bottom lip and I my hand squeezed a tad bit harder and I watched her struggle not to go completely pliant.

She was definitely a stubborn one but I didn’t mind.

From her demeanor alone I could tell that she was goading me some more, not quite believing that I’d deliver on my promise yet curious to find out if I would.

“Okay… then how do you want me, ma’am?” Rhea shot back sarcastically as she walked towards the bed once I let go of her throat.

“Like this?” She asked as she crawled onto the bed, back arched and her ass up in the air, inviting me to spank it so I did just that.

I chuckled as her body jolted and she gave a yelp as both my hands cracked down on each of her ass cheeks as soon as she settled down behind her on my knees.

“That works, actually. Hands behind your back.” I commanded.

Of course she didn’t immediately comply, so I did it myself, holding at least one of her wrists over her back.

“Fuck! I hate you-” She began to rant as I pulled her panties down and I brought my hand down on her ass again and again, until her ass cheeks turned the gorgeous red I had envisioned.

Her body trembled even as she fought and I could see her pussy glistening with arousal.

I stole a look into her eyes and noticed them becoming glassier by the second and that made satisfaction and arousal course through my veins, hitting the spot just as much as a delicious pot of my morning fucking coffee...

Next Chapter

@theworldofotps @alyyaanna @southerngirl41 @harmshake @mzv11 @letsgivethisonemoreshot @theundertakeriscoming @slutfortheeclaymore @auraravenora77 @niknakattack @moonwolfdemonprincess21 @babiidee28 @thesamoanqueen @omegasshyghuleh6661ghosts @xndalynch @84reedsy @romanstheory @kianaleani @elefrog25-blog @motherknuckers @phantasmacabre @wandering-fox @lxndonorris @girlnred @yo-yo89 @smile1318 @sassginaswanmills @exhaustedclown @aritannahrocks1300 @superlove167 @ayeeitsali @queencherryberry @truefant4sy @codyswhitebelt @blackmeetsworld @salirophiliac @kayfabebabe @rhea-the-eradicator @souleatermia @bittersweetastoria @domripley @wrestlingprincess80 @myluvrrhea

#rhea ripley #rhea ripley fan fiction #rhea ripley smut #rhea ripley x fem reader #rhea ripley x reader #wwe fan fiction #wwe smut #wwe fic

[juqtier]

☆◞: IM ALWAYS JUST A DOOR AWAY ✧ SPENCER REID

SUMMARY: after blowing up at your neighbor, you and your friend decide to have a night out to help you with stress. what could go wrong?

GENERAL WARNINGS: mentions of alcohol and alcohol, angsty, arguing, spencer is kind of (definitely) an asshole, kissing, cursing, somewhat darker plot points as story progresses

THIS CHAPTERS CONTAINS: alcohol and alcohol consumption, characters are drunk, cursing, spencer is an asshole, cursing. also if anything is wrong or said wrong ignore it and pretend it’s all correct thanks 💯🥰🫶🏽

GENRE: enemies to lovers, fluff, angst

⋆·˚ ༘ *

chapter 2 : it’s dr. reid

✎ It has been a couple weeks since you blew up at Spencer, and not much has changed. Well, except for your attitude towards him.

You never smiled or waved at him. In fact, if he even glanced at you, you’d quickly roll your eyes before he got the chance.

As you sat in the back at your work, counting tips, you couldn’t help but think about how much you hated him.

God, he’s so stuck up.

He doesn’t even know me.

Wearing a vest doesn’t make you any better than me or anyo-

"(Y/N), are you okay?”

Your coworker (and closest friend), Liv, interrupts your thoughts. She stared at you with a subtle hint of confusion. You hadn’t even realized you'd been zoned out or that you’d been slamming down the cash on the table.

You and Liv met when you first began working here. She was possibly the happiest person you know, and the kindest. She always listened to you ramble about anything, whether it was a stupid hobby, a rude customer, or even the most mundane story about your week.

“Um yeah. Just some problems..” You weren’t even sure how to answer her. Bringing up the situation made you even more furious.

However, Liv became a bit more concerned with this answer.

“Oh no! What’s wrong? Family troubles, a boy?”

You breathe in deeply, trying to suppress the anger building up again before you start talking.

“It’s just... my neighbor.”

Liv leans on the table you sat at, obviously interested in what you have to say. “Go on…”

Her saying that immediately gave your mind the confirmation it needed to go ahead with your rant.

“Well, when I moved in, I wanted to greet him. I don’t know, trying to be neighborly and whatnot, like one does. But.. like..”

You rub your face with your hands. It became clear to you that talking about this would anger you no matter what, so why not just get it over with?

“He’s such a jerk. Like, he interrupted me when I tried to say hello. He even slammed the door in my face.”

Your friend's eyes widen, leaning more towards you, showing her interest. Honestly, even if she wasn’t showing any care whatsoever, the words would’ve kept spewing out regardless. You needed to get this off your chest.

“Oh, and he showed up at my door, telling me to turn my music down. I have no problem with that, but in the same breath, he tells me how I have terrible taste. He said, 'Some of us have jobs and commitments', or whatever bullshit he said to me. Like oh I’m sorry, I never knew because I don’t also work my ass off!”

Your voice gradually became louder, yet you weren’t quite yelling. All Liv does is nod softly, almost as if she knew how much anger and frustration built up inside of you.

“And I live next to him, I can’t avoid him. He’s like the plague! Maybe during the apartment tour, the realtor could’ve been kind enough to give me a heads-up! Maybe like, ‘Oh, by the way, the neighbor is insanely rude and pretentious, so maybe avoid him if you can’, I dunno!”

“Jesus, (Y/N), I’m sorry.” Liv quickly says. Venting to your friend calmed you down a bit, but you were still visibly annoyed.

“It’s fine… It’s not... whatever.” Your body slumps into the chair, the tip money you were previously counting still spread in front of you.

“Let’s go out tonight. You and me!” Liv suggests happily.

The idea sounds nice, but you haven’t been out in what feels like forever. When you moved, you left all of your dresses and more risqué clothing behind to make the move easier. I mean, you didn’t even think you’d have a reason to go out of the house.

“Liv, thanks for the attempt at helping, but I haven’t gone out in so long. I don’t even have going-out clothes.”

"Well, you’re in luck, sweets! I have tons of going-out clothes, or whatever you call them. When I’m out in a couple hours. Finish counting your tips, go home, shower, and I’ll pick you up. No ifs, ands, or buts. See ya!"

With that, she smiles sweetly at you and hurries off, going to serve another table fast enough so you can’t say no to the plans she made. You let out a small huff, seeing no way out of this.

And Liv was nice; what harm could going out with her do?

You gather the cash and stuff it into an envelope, sliding it into your purse and gathering the rest of your belongings. Untying your apron and setting it down, you exit the restaurant through the back and make your way to your car.

Please let tonight be a good one.

-‘๑’-

“Choose an outfit, any outfit!”

Liv displayed all her dresses for you to choose from on her bed. She had picked you up a couple hours prior, and the two of you had been talking for a while before getting ready.

You straightened your hair and did a smokey makeup look, something you hadn’t done in a while.

The dress selection was quite impressive, but a simple short, sparkly black dress stood out to you the most. You pick it up and show Liv your choice.

“Ooooh, skimpy, yet simple. I like!” Liv said, smiling from ear to ear.

“Go put it on!”

She eagerly pushes you into the bathroom to change, shutting the door behind you.

Slipping the clothes on and staring at yourself in the mirror, you felt insanely confident. Since you hadn’t been out in so long, you forgot how fun it was to get dressed up.

Stepping out of the bathroom and into the room where Liv went to change, she audibly gasped upon seeing you.

“Jesus (Y/N), you look hot!”

A giggle escapes your lips as you look down at the yourself and smile at her.

“I might have to steal this dress, I like them too much.”

“I’d pay you to keep it, you look good.”

The comment made you blush slightly as your friend continued to compliment you.

“Alright, I'm ready. Let’s go!”

The two of you order a cab and head to the club. The thought of Spencer Reid is nowhere in your mind.

-‘๑’-

As you arrive at the club, you can already tell it’s quite full. Just upon entering, you see tons of people dancing and drinking—even a drunk girl spilling her drinks all over herself as her friends quickly try to clean her up.

Liv grabs your arm, dragging you up to the bar in a matter of seconds. It seemed so fast; you hadn’t even noticed she ordered you two drinks.

“Two tequila shots, two waters, and two limes, thank you!” Liv orders from the bartender. He nods and heads off to grab you guys your drinks.

“Starting off strong?” You say this, laughing softly.

“Of course! I want you to have a good night, (Y/N). It’ll be fun, trust me!"

Liv smiled softly at you as she grabbed the salt on the counter, seeing the bartender come back with the shots.

“Here you go. Enjoy, ladies.”

The both of you nod as the bartender steps away, helping others with their drinks. You lick the back of your hand and sprinkle salt on it before grabbing the shot and throwing it back.

It burned slightly, going down your throat, and you winced a bit. Quickly licking the salt off your hands and sucking on the lime, you can’t help but shake a little bit. It’s been so long since you’ve even consumed any sort of alcohol, so this shot felt incredibly strong to you.

"Jesus, I forgot how much I hate tequila.” You say, clearing your throat a bit. You grab your water and take a sip as Liv laughs, seemingly having had no reaction to the shot.

“Welcome back to drinking, huh?” She jokes, which makes you both laugh a little.

-‘๑’-

As the night goes on, the two of you dance and drink more, progressively becoming drunker. The shots began going down like water; a lime wasn’t needed to help anymore.

As you and Liv danced together, you decided to get more shots. Liv was clearly having too much fun to get off the dance floor right away, so you made the sacrifice to step off and grab them.

“I’ll go grab us some more shots; you just stay here.” You say to her, words slurring as you walk over to the bar. You lean on the bar to order more shots, hoping to make them your last ones as you get more and more tired.

The bar was full, so the bartender wasn’t going to tend to you right away. As you take a seat to help you have some sort of balance, you become aware of the presence of someone behind you. Assuming it was Liv, you snap your head to look at the person.

No fucking way

It seemed like you could never escape the nightmare that is Spencer Reid.

"Holy shit, Reid... are you stalking me?” You say this, looking up at the tall man. If your words didn’t indicate how drunk you were, your face did. Your eyes were heavy, and your face was slightly flushed red.

“Stalking you? I wouldn’t even if I was paid.” He states, making you roll your eyes.

“I don’t know what karmic debt I have to pay off, but it sure is hell seeing you everywhere I go.”

The words coming out of your mouth were so slurred, it made him chuckle. This made you roll your eyes again, annoyed at everything he did.

“I’m not particularly pleased to see you either." He answers, not even looking down at you as he scans the bar.

“And besides, you’re not the only one allowed to go out. I’m here with some work friends, not for you. They’re all just too drunk to hold a conversation…”

You laugh slightly as you tilt your head. “You don’t drink”

“No, not really. Can’t say the same can you? Try not to clear out the alcohol…”

Of course he had to throw in a snarky comment quickly. Even if it wasn’t normally seen as rude, coming from him was a different story.

“I’m leaving anyway.. have a.. nice night… or whatever.” You reply swiftly, forgetting the shots you planned to order and hopping out of your seat. You stagger a few steps away before feeling his hand wrap around your forearm, quickly stopping you.

“Wait, how are you getting home? You can’t drive like this.”

It almost felt like you couldn’t roll your eyes anymore than you have. You turn your head to look at him, your hair falling in front of your face.

“Don’t pretend to care.. where.. I’m going." Your words seemed to take forever to get out; you just wanted to get as far away as possible in that moment.

“Just because I don’t like you at all doesn’t mean I’m going to let you be in possibly dangerous situations. Especially in this state..." His eyes didn’t seem angry at that moment; they were just worried. It almost felt foreign to see him not roll his eyes back at you. It shocked you.

“How are you getting home?" Spencer’s voice is a lot more stern this time, startling you a bit. You never expected him, of all people, to care.

"Well, mister Reid…”

“It’s Dr.” He corrects you.

“Whatever.. me and my friend… Liv… will get a cab home. Any other questions?"

When he doesn’t respond right away, you think that’s the end of the interaction. When you attempt to slip your arm out of his grasp, he only tightens his grip a bit more. Not hurting you, but stopping you from walking away.

“I- I don’t think that’s very safe. I’ll give you guys a ride.”

Usually you’d argue and protest, but he seemed too serious to even try. And besides, you’d rather get a free ride than pay for one.

“Whatever..” You begrudgingly agree, pulling your arm away to go get your friend. Liv is easily pulled off the dance floor this time as you explain the situation. She holds onto your arms as you exit the club behind Spencer. It was obvious she had many more drinks than you; you could’ve looked a little sober next to her.

"Hello, sir, thank you for the ride.” She says to Spencer, her words are barely comprehensible. Spencer just nods, not really understanding what she said.

You walk to Spencer’s car with Liv on your arm, then softly help her into the backseat, buckling her up. She was laughing and giggling as you did so, not paying much attention to Spencer at all.

"Please, please, please don’t throw up in my car.” You hear him talk to himself as he walks to the driver's side door and gets in.

As you get in the front seat beside Spencer, you look around at the interior of the car. It was completely clean; there was not a speck of dirt in sight.

“Huh, is the car new?” You ask, turning your head to face him. He shook his head as he stuck the keys in the ignition, starting the vehicle.

“No. I just don’t drive much. I don’t like to, I usually take the train or have a coworker drive me. Can you give me your guys addresses?”

You nod, telling him both addresses, seeing as Liv was too inebriated to say much. The car begins to move, and you lay your head back to stare out the window. Watching the world pass by was calming; you even began to drift off a little.

Suddenly, the car stops.

“We’re at Livs.” He almost whispers. You lift your head up and look around before getting out of the car. You still had pretty bad balance, but better than Liv’s, who had passed out by now. Spencer gets out as well and helps you hoist Liv out of the backseat.

“How much did you guys drink?” He asks, referencing how drunk your friend was. The two of you begin walking to the door of her house.

“Not a lot, just... a lot..” You joke, laughing at your own stupidity.

“I wouldn’t do that. Alcohol causes 13 percent of deaths among-“

“Boooorinnng.” You interrupt. He presses his lips together as you two reach the door. You dig through the purse Liv had on her shoulder and fish her keys out, quickly unlocking the door and pushing it open.

“I’ll go put her to bed.” You say, dragging Liv off Spencer’s shoulders and to her room. She is easily carried, being quite light. As you reach her room, you set her down on the bed and take her purse off her shoulder, placing the keys beside it on her dresser. She didn’t really respond much, but you did hear her softly snoring as you laid her down.

As you shut the lights off and exit the house, you see Spencer waiting on the sidewalk for you.

“Come on, I’m tired.”

You walk to the car and get it again, buckling up quickly.

As you begin driving, he suddenly begins talking to you.

“I never took you as someone to go out at all.”

“Dr. Reid, you don’t know me at all.”

Saying this makes you realize, you don’t know him either. I mean, he was annoying, yes, but what did he do? What did he like? Were his interests as painstakingly pretentious as he was? You grew curious, then quickly grew confused as to why you were curious at all.

When he laughs at your comment, you immediately snap out of your head. “I do know you’re a pain in the ass.”

“You’re not exactly a dream either, believe me.”

You go back to staring out the window, waiting for the car to finally park in front of your apartment.

When it finally does, you get out as quickly as possible. Unfortunately, Spencer is right behind you.

“Stop following me, weirdo.” You comment as you walk in front of him, refusing to turn around.

"Sorry, princess, but in case you forgot, I’m your neighbor.”

You groan at this comment as you both reach your apartment doors. You were already so irritated and tired that you couldn’t bear another snarky comment or remark from him. Opening your door, you look at him and nod.

“Good night, Dr. Reid.” Your tone was sassy, yet jokey. He rolled his eyes and smiled at you, lifting his hand to wave goodbye. Before he can reply or say anything, you shut the door.

You made him smile.

He smiled cause of you?

Why did you care so much that he smiled? Shouldn’t that annoy you? Maybe you were just too drunk to function properly. You shake the thoughts off and slip into more comfortable clothes, quickly jumping into bed and falling asleep. Maybe tomorrow you’ll be thinking straight…

-‘๑’-

PT 1 | PT 3

tag list: @daisyridleyss @taygrls @yeonalie @peanutbelley @vivian-555 @ehedrick012110

a.n : this feels really long, and it is, so sorry ! but next chapter is a lil more eventful i hope! also, in my head liv is a blonde sweet sort of ditzy girl, but you can imagine her however you’d like! liv lover regardless 💪🏽💯

#spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid #cm imagine #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds #juqtier writes… 🐈

[urf1lterr]

lovesick | pedro pascal [2]

"and on this night and in this light i think im falling, im falling for you."

next chapter: [3] previous chapter: [1] series masterlist

summary: in which a 1975-obsessed film student accidentally falls in love with an older man she can't have.

pairing: actor!pedro x intern!reader

genre: acting world!au, big age-gap!, strangers to friends- maybe lovers?? au | angst, mature, awkward, love- eventually

word count: 6.7k

status: in progress

author's note: this chapter was for fun- i have the 1975 on repeat so i had to lmao. i kinda wanna do a slow burn because i don't want to make anything happen so fast. and pedro was at the oscars a few hours ago so why not post another chapter for him :) not edited.

You hated working weekends.

Something about waking up extremely early on a day that was supposed to be your day off irks you. Why have a scheduled rest day if you're just going to be scheduled to come in? It made zero sense, especially since you were only given a two hour notice before while sleeping.

No pay, clothes, gifts could ever make you happy after being called in at 5am for a 7am shift-

"Venti iced white chocolate mocha with oat milk, vanilla sweet cold foam, caramel drizzle, and light ice as always," Pedro listed as he handed you the coffee.

"Oh my god, I think I love you," you blurted out, staring at the cup in awe.

"That was fast, I see now why you're single," Pedro replied, giving you the side eye. "And soon diabetic."

Rolling your eyes, you take a sip of the coffee before shaking your head. "Not like that, you moron," you scoffed as he glared at you. "I love coffee too much- and who says I'm single."

"Think of it as your reward for waking up to the call," he joked as you just stared at him annoyed. The one time you turn off your do not disturb and this happens. "Your loneliness says otherwise."

"I am not lonely!" you gasp as he shrugs. "I'll have you know I am dating-"

"If you dare say Matty Healy I will personally push you in a bush-," Pedro declares, stopping you as you try to interject. "-and won't help you back up."

Huffing, you cross your arms as he laughs at the sight of your defeat. He knows you too well considering the fact you only met two months ago.

In fact, these two months were probably the best ones you have had all year. Not only did you experience some awesome moments you're sure you'll never get to witness again, but you got along with a lot of special people.

What made things even better was the fact that you got along with your boss because who knows where you would've ended up if Finn was a total douche- which he wasn't. But he did have his moments where he took your kindness for weakness- like asking you to come in for shift on a Saturday.

One thing that definitely advanced would have to be your relationship with Pedro. Nearly best friends is what you two were typically called on a normal day on set by how close you've become.

The nearly part added because nothing could ever come between his relationship with Bella, or Bellie in his own words. And because Jules always made sure to tell the jokesters that she was not giving up her position just yet.

But when it came to work, Pedro was always there for you. Considering he's been in the industry since before you were even born, which he yelled at you once when you joked, he was the best support.

He would even ask you what you were assigned to do and tell you specifically what was wanted without you even asking- even finding ways to physically assist before being caught and sent back to his actual job.

There were also the constant times where he would spam you with iMessage game requests to 8 ball and ignore you after beating him three times in a row, claiming his phone died despite your messages being sent through.

The only thing that made today better was that he was here because who knows how boring the day would have been if you were spent hanging with the technicians who; in fact, did not appreciate the countless times you dropped a mic.

"Why didn't Jules get called in?" you questioned as he turned up the computer brightness you were using. "That girl never wakes up early but I kid you not, she was playing minecraft on her computer when I was leaving."

"I love minecraft," Pedro sighed.

"I do too, but Jules always sends the creepers to my house," you complain. "They always destroy my garden."

"I could only imagine the devastation in your eyes," he dramatically exhales as you nudge him. "But I think it's because you're more...attentive? Not saying that she isn't, but she sure loves to talk about Jersey Shore in between takes."

"She's been binge-watching all the seasons after work."

The conversation ended once he was caught again by one of the producers and lured out of the office you were in. Initially, he searched around the studio and found you to gift the coffee, but he stayed because he did not want to sit on the makeup chair for another round of a drastic look being applied to his face- especially if you weren't there to pester him.

As for you, once clocked in Finn managed to have you scan after emails as a way to apologize for the call in. Apparently, one of his assistants called out so he decided to use you as their replacement since he couldn't find the time to sit down in a cozy office and do so.

But you were totally not complaining.

That only lasted you about two hours before you were finished and terribly bored.

Throwing the empty cup of coffee in the trash, you decided to walk around in hopes of finding something better to do or else you would've fallen asleep on the desk.

You would've if you weren't scared of the thought of a director finding and; consequently, firing you.

Hearing a loud noise, you quickly averted your eyes where your ears were signaling where the noise came from. Lightly jogging behind a curtain, your eyes widened to a sight of a desk on its side and a man hovering over it.

"Joon?!" you exclaim, running over to find him lowly panting, trying to remain his coolness as you began inspecting him to find any injuries.

"I'm fine," he calmly replied, using his dimpled smile as a way to reassure this but you didn't believe him. That was a loud drop.

"Why in the world are you lifting a desk that surely isn't less than 30 pounds?" you glare as he chuckles at the fake anger you poorly tried displaying.

"One of the technicians asked me to bring it out."

"And did you forget that your back would disagree?"

He shuts his mouth for a second, loss for words at your comeback. "I couldn't say no," he shyly replied. "I didn't want to have to pull out my medical forms explaining why I can't lift a table."

Feeling your face sink, you helped him stand straight as he glanced down at the fallen table. "You should have called for help then- everybody would need help for a gigantic table like this."

He only nodded in response, making you feel bad. You felt like you were lecturing him, technically you were, but you didn't want to find out in the future the reason he stopped attending work was because he pulled his back again.

"I'll drag this out," you declare as he tried slapping you hands away from it.

"It's too heavy for you!" he argued.

"Which is why I said drag," you countered back, ignoring his pleas as you somehow managed to lift the table back to its standing positioning.

Walking around it, you bent your back as you began pushing it around the curtain as Joon followed your position, crouching next to you for the extra support.

If it wasn't for the film crew being around the floor, you were sure you would have passed out right then and there. But you couldn't let them know how weak you were.

"And that's how teamwork makes the dream work," you announce, causing Joon to giggle before giving you a high-five as the two of you stand up from your bent posture.

Joon was another person you got along with incredibly well. For one, you guys were the duo out of all the interns. Every job you had that included another person, he was always there.

There was also the many times the two of you, and Jules of course, would carpool together to get home. It turned out Joon was also friends with some of your college classmates so he was always the only person from work who joined you guys for the random nights of cheesy movies and boring games while eating takeout with your other friends.

Despite hanging out for so long, you felt dense when someone called him Namjoon one time, even turning your head around for this Namjoon, completely oblivious to the fact that Joon was connected to Namjoon.

To be fair, he never went by his full name claiming that his nickname sounded more 'chill,' or whatever that meant.

Other than that, you were sure he was your other best friend. Well, after Jules and maybe Pedro. They were probably on the same level if you had to arrange them- not that friends had to ranked.

"Are you ready for this afternoon?" Joon called out as the two of you walked off the stage back to the curtains.

"For what?"

He sent you a surprised look, scaring you because is there something crazy happening that you had to prepare for? "Do you have your phone?"

Patting your back pocket, you shook your head. "I think I left it in my bag. Why? I'm about to cry if you don't tell me," you impatiently whine.

"What kind of fan you are," he simply responds, causing you to widen you eyes.

Immediately jumping on him, you shake his shoulders repeatedly. "What is the 1975 doing?! You must tell me or I swear to the gods I will bust your kneecaps and make you crawl for help."

He bursts out laughing at your threatening begs, trying to calm down your jumps by grabbing your shoulders to hold you. "You're violent."

"And you'll need surgery if you don't hurry it up."

Tapping your shoulder to calm down, you slowly do so. "3 o'clock is when their tickets go on sale for their upcoming tour, one of the dates being in New York City."

You could have sworn you were about to faint if it weren't for Joon pulling out his phone to show you you still had time to mentally prepare for the combat you were about to enter.

That's what ticketmaster was, a war zone.

"How was I not aware of this?!" you cry out, internally panicking about what you were going to do. You can't miss out on this concert, you just had to see these British people in person in order for your life to be complete.

"They did just post the news half an hour ago," he admitted. "Good for you for not being addicted to your phone."

Scowling at him, he quickly closed his mouth as you went over all the things you needed to do to prepare. "Wait, can we go together? None of my guy friends like them."

If you weren't in your own world mentally planning how you were going to beat all these teenage girls online, you would have noticed Pedro walking up to the two to you. But you didn't because your mind couldn't stop thinking about Matty Healy singing 'She's American' because you were indeed American.

"Why does she look deranged?" Pedro questioned, standing a few feet away from you. "Oh no, did Matty Healy die?"

Glaring at him, you ignore his irrelevant comment and face back to Joon. "You and me, my place straight after work. Got it?"

He nods, already in game mode because he knows how bad the two of you need to witness this concert.

Pedro exchanged a crazed look between the two of you, assuming his own ideas as to what you meant. "You're having a party and didn't invite me?" he tried joking to understand the conversation a bit more.

"No time for fooling around, Pedro," you state, grabbing Joon by his arm and making your way back to the office to search for your phone. "We have important business to settle, see you around!"

He watched the way Joon and you walk away hurriedly and wonders if you have a thing for the boy. It would make sense right? Joon was around the same age and he saw you guys work together all the time.

Shaking his head, he walks back to the stage trying to not overthink whatever was flowing in his head. But he couldn't help but question why he was never invited to your place? He instantly rejected that idea, he was twice your age. There's no way that was realistically appropriate.

However, you were friends- so wasn't it hypothetically okay?

No, there was no way he was really debating this. It's completely understandable why he didn't need to be invited over and Joon could.

But how many times did Joon come over?

Stop. His thoughts were confusing him and he needed a distraction. He wasn't going to let another man make him envy of where his friendship stood with you because there is no way he's jealous Joon might take his close friend status.

Because that's who you were to him, a close friend.

After another hour of working with Joon secretly about the tickets while emailing more people who Finn ordered, you two were finally cut for the day.

And luckily you still had two hours before the tickets went on sale.

"I need to grab my coat I left backstage, meet me outside?" Joon asked and you nodded, waving him off as you put on your own coat and bag.

Sprinting out of the office, you didn't expect to fall on the floor by the the person who ran into you. Well, the person fell to the floor while you comfortably landed on top of them, their arms wrapping around you.

"If you missed me that much you should've just texted me sooner to drop by," you heard the culprit chuckle, immediately making you shake their secured hands off your waist to stand.

"That was definitely not the case," you laugh, sticking a hand out to help him get up.

He raises a brow while staring at your hand before taking it, instantly pulling you back down with him. Falling over again, you slowly slip into his arms before finding your balance and giving up on helping him.

"How adorable of you to think you can lift me up," he grins, pulling his own weight up.

"I would love to stay and chat," you start, before looking past him and back again. "But I have something very important to do."

Trying to move around him, he stops you by grabbing your shoulder. "That's why I came to be a generous person and offer you a ride- so you can be home faster and do whatever you needed to do with Josh."

"His name's Joon."

"That's what I said," he ignores you're doubtful glance. "I can take you guys to your apartment."

Thinking it over, it would make it easier and faster to get home and prepare for the sale. If you would've taken a cab and subway it would have been an hour, with him it'll be half that.

"Fine," you spit out and watch as his face lights up. "But I am not owing you anything, you offered."

"Love how two months ago you would've begged the world for me," he placed a hand over his heart. "Oh how comfortable you've gotten with me."

"I don't want to hear it," you shun him, walking past him as he makes a silly face behind your back. "I can feel that!" He immediately stops, surprised you sensed it.

Maybe the two of you gotten a long too well.

"He's gonna drive us to my place, it'll be faster," you quickly explain to Joon who just nods, happily smiling at Pedro who sends him a fast greeting.

Right as you walk through the parking garage and see the familiar black car, Pedro unlocks it before quickly pushing you into the passenger seat, ignoring your protests and slamming the door before you could slip out.

"Not cool," you utter once he buckles inside the driver's seat.

"Don't make me cry," he fake cries before pulling the car out and hitting the road back to your place.

Due to it being the weekend and everybody wanting to be social and outside for some reason, the streets were packed.

It didn't help that Pedro thought starting a deep conversation with Joon about why electric cars annoyed him, knowing damn well Joon loved the environment, was a good idea.

And Pedro's defense being because he loved the smell of gas made you want to slap him.

As if the heavens felt your annoyance, your wish was granted. You were finally in the front of your apartment complex with Pedro pulling up along the red curb. You would've fought him, but you were desperate to get inside as you barely had an hour left.

"Thanks, see you Monday!" you exclaim, jumping out of the car and slamming the door shut. "Let's go, Joon!"

Barely stepping a foot out, you heard Pedro begin talking. "Wait, what are you guys gonna do?"

"Very intense work," Joon stated before turning to you. "But we got this in the bag."

Pedro squints his eyes, curiously scanning your body language because he does not know what this very intense work meant.

Working out? Making out? What the hell was it?

"Of course we do, love has no limits," you declare, making Pedro cough as you grabbed Joon's arm. "Now, let's go!"

"What are you two going to eat?!" Pedro called out, making you heavily sigh and turn back around.

Faking a smile, you gritted your teeth. "Don't know. Maybe we'll cook or make Jules' grab food as we work."

He makes a face, not convinced he wants to let you guys leave. Now that he was here and his day was over with, he didn't want to be alone.

But he also didn't want to tell you he wanted to stay. He wanted you to invite him- but you weren't getting the hint. Or maybe you were, but you couldn't have him in the room while working with Joon.

"That's cool, did you know I make a killer chicken alfredo?" he speaks out, making you pull an interested face as you were very much not. "Especially with garlic bread."

"Make sure to make that once you get home, safe travels," you wave, trying to turn away but was once again stopped by his voice.

You could feel your kindness slowly leaving your body. Was this the day you would be arrested and charged for murder?

"You know what's the secret with making the pasta?" Pedro questions as Joon replies back a curious, "What?"

"The sauce!" he exclaims as you try to control yourself. He was definitely pushing your buttons but you had to stay calm- you had to.

Joon was too interested in the conversation Pedro was beginning, trying to ask what was in this mysterious sauce. You knew you had to interject or you would both be ticketless.

"Maybe you can tell us about this secretive sauce on Monday, when we next see you," you force a laugh, trying to slowly take a few steps back to inch towards the entrance doors. "We really have to g-"

"Why wait till Monday when I can tell you now?" he claps, getting reading to explain his recipe. "For starters, you need a thick, sauce that can sp-"

"Oh my god!" you squeal, causing both men to jump and stare at you in shock as you rambled on. "The parking structure is around the block, my number is 912- just park and come up! Let's go, Joon!"

With that, Joon and you ran inside and Pedro smiled to himself. His planned worked. He guessed the only way to get to you was by speaking nonsense until you gave in- he'll remember that in the future.

Rushing through your door, you took your coat off as Joon pulled his laptop out if his backpack and set it next to your desk.

You looked at it confusingly before asking, "you carry your laptop with you to work?"

"Duh, an intern should always be prepared for computer work," he replies as if it was the obvious rule we should all know.

Shrugging, you turned on your PC and immediately went to ticketmaster, finding that the tickets weren't going on sale until 35 minutes from now. "We still have time to breathe." That was until you heard light knocks on your door. "Spoke too soon."

Walking up to your door, you see that no one was out there.

That was until Pedro decided to jump out from the side and scare the living shit out of you.

"I'm not doing this," you glare, trying to slam the door on his face, but he forced his way in while laughing at the scream you exhaled before.

You stared at him with no expression as he fell to the floor, continuing to laugh as if your fear was the funniest thing in the world. Joon was even silently giggling in the corner, stopping when you made eye-contact with him.

Trying to find a bowl to fill with water so you could throw at him, your plans were interrupted when you heard your roommate's voice boom across the room.

"Who the fuck is making so much noise?! Some of us are trying to sleep- ah! Why is Mr. Boss here?" Jules' gasps, jumping behind the hallway wall and peeking only her head out, too embarrassed to show off her hello kitty pajamas.

"He's gonna make us some pasta with his secret sauce," Joon happily states as she just gives him a confused look.

"Plus, it's almost 3 in the afternoon...," Pedro adds, giving her a baffled look as to why she is barely waking up.

She just gives him an awkward glance before running back to her room, shutting the door. Saturday's were her day off, of course waking up after 5pm was normal.

"The time limit just turned green! Refresh to join the waiting room-" Joon began screeching, doing so on his computer as you jumped around Pedro to do the same on your PC.

Slowly walking up to where Joon was, Pedro began examining the situation you two were in. Reading over your computer screen, his face fell. "The 1975 2022 World Tour...were you guys seriously trying to buy concert tickets this whole time?!"

Joon and you exchanged innocent glances to one another, not sure if he was judging you for your dedication.

"No, we still are trying to buy tickets," you simply reply, pushing him away from your computer.

His negativity was bad luck.

"This is why you were rushing to get home? All for-"

"Be gone, pessimist. Your energy is not it," you frown, moving your game chair to block his view from your screen. "Joon, block your computer, we can't afford his cynical attitude to ruin our chances of making out with Matty Healy."

"Making out with Matty Healy? You still want that? How is he gonna notice you?" Pedro asks, trying hard not to laugh in your face.

You were quiet for a minute. It was just a crazy thing you said because of all the videos you had seen online whenever it was somebody's birthday or they were just a lucky fan in the front.

You weren't actually dedicated to kissing him, but you did wish.

Joon slowly raised his finger, pointing at Pedro. "You're famous, right? Maybe if you went he'll notice us?"

Eyes widening, Pedro quickly shook his head as you placed your hand over your mouth. He was right, maybe he wouldn't kiss you, but he would for sure meet you if he found out a famous actor with over a million followers on Instagram attended his show.

"Not a chance," Pedro declared, ignoring your puppy dog gaze as you just hoped doing it for long would make him so uncomfortable he would give in.

Nudging Joon, he followed your actions with the sad stare, the two of you in front of the poor actor, leaving him really no choice. You were even thinking about calling Jules out to help, but she probably wouldn't appreciate it by her state of looking homeless.

But if it were on a work day she would totally be in.

"You just look like a deformed bull terrier," he says, pulling a disgusted face. "It's kind of unattractive."

"What is that?" you urge, watching Joon hold a laugh.

"The target dog," Joon answers for you.

Shrieking, you smack Pedro in the arm. "My god, woman! You always hit me."

"You're coming with us to the concert," you announce, watching him roll his eyes. Before he could reject your demand, you beat him to it, "if you don't I'm never talking to you again."

"Please, I've been wishing for that for weeks now," he cheers. "Plus, I'm pretty sure I am busy the day they come."

Pulling yourself close to the computer, you check to see the day they were arriving. "So you're saying you aren't free November 7th?"

"Kid, that's basically a year from now. I can't guarantee anything."

"Damn, you're right," you frown, your mood going down. Joon's idea was pretty amazing, but just wrong timing since the concert was so far away. "You can leave now."

"And what about that famous chicken alfredo?" Pedro chuckled, finding your change in demeanor amusing. You must really love these indie boys.

You were about to reply when Joon intervened. "Oh my god! We are in the queue!"

Twisting your head, you could see the clock had hit 3 o'clock exactly. How did time go by that fast?

"Holy shit! Everybody disconnect from the house wifi on your phones! We can not have anything disturbing us!"

Pulling out your phone, you did what you ranted on and made sure Joon did the same. You even ran to Jules' door and banged on it until she confirmed she did so.

Running back to the computer, you could see there was still 983 people in front of you while Joon had 754. "Why is your computer going faster?"

"This laptop-," he sheepishly smiled. "-cost a fortune, but works like a charm."

Turning back to the screen, you saw the purple line move closer. Not even three minutes in and you only had 534 people left while Joon had 312.

You don't know what you did, but God was certainly rewarding you.

"You're honestly really weird," Pedro confessed, staring at your computer screen. "And sad."

"You would be if you were about to buy tickets to see the love of your life."

"I wouldn't pay anything, money can't buy love," Pedro insists, pulling a chair from your table and placing it in between Joon and you.

"That's very romantic," you swipe an imaginary tear from your cheek. "Save it for the cameras."

His jaw drops as you return back to your computer. In a few moments you were about to be inside the room and you were beyond scared. If you did not get these tickets you don't know how much longer you'll have to live.

"I'm in!" Joon shouts, causing you to jump to his screen.

Great, the two of you were going together anyway so it works out.

"Fuck, what's the presale code?!"

Placing your hands on your head as he begins to panic, you die inside. What the fuck were you going to do now? "Go on Twitter and check!"

To say Pedro was not intrigued would be a lie. It was very fascinating seeing how strongly engaged you were just for a damn ticket. To be honest, he thinks you would be great on a reality tv show- your expressions were just off the roof. He wonders if other people genuinely acted like you.

"It's probably something super simple, try 'thesound,'" you exclaim, watching as he typed right away but frowning when it denied it. "try 'somebodyelse.'"

After each attempt of every famous song they had, it was still wrong. What pissed you off even more was that fans were gatekeeping the code no matter how many times Joon and you tweeted for help.

Greedy little shits.

Eventually, your screen allowed you into the room as well. It was no use, you didn't have the code. "I think I'm going to have a panic attack," you clutch your chest as you felt your lips quiver from sadness. "We were so close."

Pedro just stared at you not believing how miserable you suddenly became. Is this how easily young people let concerts take over themselves? Do people really idolize artists that much to the point where they feel depressed if they don't get tickets?

He shivered imagining how BTS fans dealt with this pressure.

"Let me try," Pedro speaks up, pushing you to the side as he began typing away on your keyboard.

It never hurts to try, right?

Innocently clicking away, your face fell as the check mark appeared, unlocking the room for you. "He got in!"

Hurriedly jumping to the screen, Joon urged Pedro to do the same as you began searching through the seats. Instantly clicking on the floor, you hit the continue button for 2 seats.

Feeling your nerves kick in, your hands begin to shake as you typed in the needed information in order to complete your order. But once you pressed 'place your order," your world stopped.

Ignoring your surroundings, you only focused on the screen. Quietly praying, you're sure Joon and Pedro could hear your desperate requests to the ruler of the universe to grant you your biggest wish: these tickets.

You Got The Tickets To The 1975!

Feeling weightless, you screamed so loud you were sure your neighbors were going to call the cops. Joon looked over, doing the same cheers once he realized you two were set for the show.

Jumping out of your chair, you practically tackled Pedro to the ground as you wrapped your arms around his neck and planted him numerous kisses all over his cheeks.

For once, you were happy you managed to outlast his annoying-self.

"I will forever be grateful for your existence!" you cheer, squeezing his poor body in your arms as he tried to remain in balance, laughing at how nice you suddenly became.

Planting a big kiss on his forehead, you turn to Joon and jump together in happiness. You couldn't believe you managed to score tickets, especially floor seats.

"Wait, what was the code?" Joon asked, pulling away from you and turning to Pedro who tried containing his grin.

"The 1975."

You dropped you arms, feeling incredibly stupid. How could you not write their name as a code attempt? It was shorter than 'it's not living if it's not with you.'

"Joon, we are officially the two dumbest people in New York City," you confess as he slowly nods before stopping.

"Not dumber than Jules though."

You heard her door open before her loud yelling appeared, "Well fuck you too!"

Ignoring her, you jump to Pedro who had his gaze on you already. "Welp! Since we got that out of the way, why don't you make some of that chicken alfredo with your sauce."

He smiled before realizing what you were asking. "What sauce?"

You roll your eyes before hitting his side. "The secretive one you were bothering us about."

Pedro bounces up once he understands what he had mentioned earlier. "Oh, right. That one," he chuckles. "I was kidding, I just wanted to see what you guys were dong."

Your face falls as Joon lets out a sad sigh. "Man, I really wanted to taste how thick and creamy that sauce was."

Pedro just tilts his head to Joon before pointing at the door. "It was great hanging with you guys though! Hey, at least we all worked together for those tickets! I'm gonna head out now, have a good rest of your evening!"

With that, he awkwardly backs away and opens the door, quickly running out before you could argue why he would lie about such a thing.

Before you could process what had just happened, he quickly opens the door again and peeps his head inside. "By the way, you don't actually like a deformed bull terrier," he clarifies. "I was kidding, maybe a cavalier king charles spaniel, those are precious."

And again, he runs out. This time, your face was pretty noticeable when it came to how much redness was present. You cringed to yourself, the littlest of compliments always made you blush- it made you sick.

Joon and you exchanged confused looks to each other. Pedro was a very interesting man.

"What is a cavalier king charles spaniel?" you lightly question.

"The dog in the arms of an angel commercial," Joon simply replies.

Reaching his car, Pedro quickly unlocked the door before jumping in. He felt his heart beating fast, not sure why it was doing so.

Was it because he adored how committed you were for those damn tickets? Maybe. Or how your eyes sparkled once you realized you got the right code? Possibly.

How you kissed him and pulled him in close? Most definitely.

But he would never reveal such a thing to anyone. People would take it wrong and believe he had feelings for you. All he had were feelings one would have for another close friend like you.

His heart was beating because he was excited for you, that's all.

Walking around the studio Monday morning was exhausting. Not only did you pull an all-nighter Saturday night because you were too happy to fall asleep, but you only managed to gain a few hours of sleep on Sunday as you were too busy trying to finish homework due that same night.

"Are you alright? Do you need water?" you heard Bella worriedly ask as you pulled a hoodie over your head and walked near the snacks table.

"I need a pill that can wake me up."

"That could be arranged," she joked, stopping when you sent her a serious look. "Not by me, of course."

Bella managed to wake you up a little once she suddenly pulled out her phone and turned the flash on, flashing it all around your face. "Are you trying to make me blind?!"

"It's supposed to wake you up, is it working?" she grinned, still shoving her phone up your face.

Grabbing her wrist, she stops. "No."

"Damn, that sucks."

Somehow you managed to pull yourself together, walking to where the rest of the interns were once you heard all the directors call out for an urgent meeting.

Probably wanting one of you to run to the coffee shop for coffee as usual.

Seeing Pedro waving at you from the side of his cast's group, you smiled and returned it. He then proceeded to make a confused face, wondering why there was an emergency meeting being held.

You sent the same look, adding a shrug because you were feeling the same. You weren't aware about what was going on, but noticing how many people were present- it must be a big deal.

Finn walked in and stood near the director, sending you a smile that didn't look natural.

If anything it looked fake and...sad?

"A lot of you are probably wondering why I called everyone down here on this early morning," you hear one of the directors begin, making some people nod while others just patiently waited for him to continue. "Starting with wonderful news, we have just been given access to explore our visuals and proceed to try out different surroundings in regards to our planned perception for the series."

Hearing a few people clap, you do the same. You were glad that the set was upgrading, but what did they have to do with everyone?

"Unfortunately," you heard him begin, causing your breathe to hitch. "with locations being held in various places like Canada, we are going to have to make cuts."

Feeling your heart drop, you already knew who he was planning to remove. A big series like this can't send interns they don't care about out of the country for help and you sure as hell couldn't afford to pay for the travels yourself if it came down to it.

You didn't want to make eye-contact with Bella or Pedro and feel their condolences through their expressions. All you wanted to do was be cut already so you could go home and cry at home.

To cry over a job was pathetic, but considering how much you learned and loved to manage it for the past couple months, it was sad to let it go.

As the director went down the list of small departments he planned on letting go, he finally made it to yours. "As for the interns, we are especially grateful for the hard work you brought to this set and trying to fill not only our needs but the casts. If we have any open positions in the near future we will make sure to grant you priority, and if you ever need letters of recommendations for your future activities, I am sure Finn would be able to handle that behind closed doors..."

You zoned out after that, not really caring what else was being said. It was the typical its not us excuse, claiming the company couldn't provide for all of their workers yet were able to spend millions of dollars on each location and its visuals.

The meeting was over when you noticed the directors and producers giving a final sympathetic look to the crowd, bowing their heads before walking back to where their offices were located.

"I feel like crying," you heard Jules sniffle, patting her under eye with her sweater. "But I took time on my eye makeup so I can't!"

Rubbing her shoulder, you tried to distract her from her tears coming out as Joon stood next to you guys, telling her funny spongebob jokes that she did not understand.

"Uh oh, Mr. Boss is coming. He's gonna make me cry, I can't hear his sorrow," Jules' explained, turning her back the other way.

"Hey, kids," you heard Pedro lightly say.

"The tears are coming out!" Jules' exclaimed, running away to the nearest bathroom while Joon and you looked at each other, feeling extremely bad for her.

"Sorry about that," Pedro awkwardly started, continuing once you shook off his unnecessary apology. "I just wanted to talk, see how you guys are handling the unfortunate news."

Joon was the first to speak, sounding surprisingly calm for someone who just lost his internship. "It sucks, but at least it was for an understandable reason. Traveling costs money. Plus, we go to school here, we can't just leave."

You nodded, agreeing with what he said. It was true, you should have known this job would've ended sooner than later, there was only so much you could have done inside a film studio.

The series was an apocalypse that needed feature more outside and environmental sets that looked deadly than a building that was only useful for inside takes.

"How about you?" He questions, sincere eyes following yours as you shrug.

"I am sad but that's the industry," you force out a small chuckle. "If you aren't cut at least once, you aren't gaining the full experience."

Right after you said that, you felt tears lining around the inner corner of your eyes. Looking down, you tru to contain yourself. "I'm going to go check up on Jules."

Reaching out for you, Pedro tries to console you but you were out of his reach in seconds. He hated the tears in your eyes and his job being the reason behind it.

He felt as if it were his fault for your departure when he knows he shouldn't.

It also didn't make him feel any better that Joon followed straight after you once you walked away. He knew he had to do something but he wasn't sure.

All he knew was that he would rather see you smile than cry.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #tlou #joel miller x reader #joel tlou #the last of us #pedro pascal angst #pedro pascal fluff #pedropascaledit #pedro pascal x y/n #joel miller #pascalispunk #fanfiction

[plush-rabbit]

part two to the unnamed chapter from like a few days ago!! honestly, im suprised people liked it. like i didnt think it would get good stuff. like i dindt think it was bad, but im like the hype has died down anyways!! we meet the man, the myth, the devil himself!!

Word Count: 4.8K

You can hardly keep your eyes open. Even with the soft yellow glow of the light, it's far too bright for you. Shutting your eyes only brings you a bit of solace. You're somewhere soft, something light and feathery pulled over you, and you shift your shoulder blades to pull your wings closer to your body, and instead you sob, the pain sharp and unforgiving to your frail body.

Did you fall? No, maybe you slept on them wrong. You don’t have to think about stretching your wings, it was always second nature, as easy as blinking and as easy as moving your arm. You’d stretch your wings, and you’d ask Adam to help you preen your wings. You shift, and something feels empty, it feels light, lighter than air. You can’t remember your wings feeling so light, not unless you were flying. You’d hate to have messed up your wings over something as frivolous as falling.

Memories rush in, fragmented, only the beginning pieces clear enough for you to remember. Your eyes snap, and you’re met with harsh lighting. You see nothing but wood and stone, and a home that is not yours, and you groan into something soft under you. Moving your arm is painful, it feels bent and sore, and you reach for feathers, and find nothing. Your cries bury themselves into something plush, something that soaks your tears and drool and leaves only a patch behind. A hand pats softly against your arm, and you flinch. 

A voice shushes out to calm you. “It's okay. You're safe. I'm not here to hurt you,” they whisper. “Just relax, and try not to move. You still haven't recovered.”

Even if they speak softly to you, it's far too loud. The words echo in your head, and attempting to think about where you are and who you're with is making you nauseous. Or perhaps it's the sickly honeyed scent that is thick in the air. 

“‘S too sweet,” you slur, clawing at fabric beneath you. You regret speaking, the movement making your already sore jaw ache further, the joints pushing into your splitting skull. Your head pulses and your mouth is cotton filled, thick and impossible to speak. “Where?” You hope that someone will give you an answer to where you are. Or at least what you're on.

“Oh, thank you,” a voice chirps. 

“Don't think it was a compliment Bee,” a thick accent says in a hushed voice.

“Well I'm taking it as one,” the voice huffs.

“You're at my home,” the gentle voice is back. “You're in a spare bed. Just try to relax.” You can’t relax with all the sound, and when you try to tell him that, you only murmur, slurring letters together. “I know, I know.” He doesn’t, but you can’t correct him. “Just try not to move so much.” It's quiet again, a silence that stretches and fills the void with nothingness. The smell and the shuffling of bodies is the only indication that you aren’t alone, that you haven’t been left yet. 

“Luci, mate, you sure it's a good idea to have an angel laying around?” You hear the chime of bells, and you want everything to stop. 

“They aren't an angel,” a voice retorts. A hand places itself over your bicep, and squeezes you softly.

“Yeah, but like, it’s still a bit dangerous, isn’t it?” The voice is much more feminine, and you can hear a buzz when they speak, a low hum that doesn’t stop. “Having one of them just on your bed.”

“A spare bed,” the voice corrects. The bed dips beside you, your fingers tap against the mattress. “It was dangerous when we were first here,” snapping at the other, before sighing. “It’s been a long time since another angel has fallen.” 

“Lucifer, honey,” this voice is smoother than the others, and you wish they would all stop talking. “What’s the plan here?” Someone makes a noise of confusion. “They aren’t an angel anymore, if anything, they’re a walking target. We don’t even know if they’re an Exorcist.”

“Heaven hasn’t cast out an Angel in so long,” the voice says softly, a finger tracing shapes onto your arm. “And I highly doubt they’re an Exorcist. I can almost- I’m positive that they aren’t.”

An Exorcist. That’s what they think. Lute flashes in your mind, and Adam follows, weapons ready, and thinking hurts far too much. You groan, nuzzling into the pillow, trying to tune out the sounds. You need them to stop talking.

A hand pats at your arm, and soon you feel fingers tangle themselves into your hair. Fingertips ghost alongside the tender part of your scalp. The voice hushes you, lulling you back into a state of unconsciousness. “I’m sorry,” they whisper, “we must be too loud for you.”

“Lucifer, I know you’re still-” the person pauses- “upset-” they sound unsure of the word they’re using- “about the last few years, but you can’t take on a pity project.”

Lucifer. They keep saying- oh shit. You let out a whimper. You don’t know if you’re thankful for being found by him, or if it’s a curse to be found by him. He shushes you once more, massaging gently at your scalp. 

“Yeah-” the buzzing is louder this time- “you know, if you were lonely, you could have just said something. I got some cute little hounds that need loving homes, ya know? And uh, they’re cute-” they hiss that word and you furrow your brows- “and practically housebroken.”

“Luci, it’s not like they’re worth much. I mean look at ‘em. I don’t even think I remember seein’ them back up when we were there, so they gotta be new or somethin’.”

The hands still, fingertips pressing into the tenderness of your head. You let out a low sound, and give a soft nudge of your head for the person- Lucifer you presume, to let go. He apologizes, soothing over the spot where he’s touched. “It’s not- They aren’t a pity project. This isn’t that. Don’t you remember how bad it was. How painful it was to fall. At least we had each other. We were stronger than most angels.” You wish they would all stop talking. Especially when they refer to falling, you can't stand to hear it. “They have no one. This is- I just want them to feel safe.” His words come to a slow stand, and if it didn’t hurt to cry, you’d sob at the reminder of your punishment. “Their wings were ripped from them, they weren’t even allowed to heal.”

“Well it ain’t like Heaven is known for their leniency.”

“Listen, Lucifer, we’re just saying that you’ve been having a lot of big emotions recently, and maybe nursing someone back to health isn’t what you need right now.” Lucifer- at least you’re assuming- makes a noise in protest at what the other voice is stating. “What’s the long-term plan, hm? You fix them and then what? Do they live here? Do you kick them out? Take them over to Charlie?”

The room is still, the buzzing has quieted down to a hum, and you feel sleep grasp onto you once more. “You should all go.” The group protests immediately, voices overlapping one another, the buzzing higher, and scent of sweets and leather grows and irritates you further. Your head pounds, banging against your skull. You shift, pulling at the wounds, and a cry muffles itself into your pillow. “It’s okay, you’re okay” the voice says in a hushed voice, palms pressed flat against you, cooling your feverish body. “I’ll give you something right now to help the pain.” He clears his throat away from you. “I have to think about things. I’ll make sure to give you updates as they come along, but for now, I’ve taken up enough of your time.” He pauses. “You should return back to your rings.”

The buzzing quiets down, and footsteps shuffle out. It's a mess of steps, puttering and pattering along the floor, and the sound is [welcomed] by silence. A door clicks shut, and you hear no lock. 

Thinking if you're a prisoner or not is too much of a task right now. The strength of the saccharine scent has left with its owner, and instead now gently wafts in the air. Somewhere on the other side of the room, you hear a sigh.

“I’m sorry. We shouldn’t have been having that conversation with you in the room.” You let out a short huff in response. “It won’t happen again, okay? We must have been loud for you, huh?” With all the strength that you can muster, you give a short nod. “Let me go get you something for the pain, okay?” You feel a soft hand over your bicep, giving you a soft squeeze. The hand lingers with fingertips that kiss over your skin in feather light touches as they pull away. 

You drift between consciousness and unconsciousness, unable to fully sleep, but you don’t register anything that happens. All that you’re aware of is that someone is back in the room with you. He’s beside you, something plastic touching against your lips and the thick taste of medicine is bitter on your tongue. 

“I’m going to light some incense, okay?” You’d rather he give you water or anything else to wash the taste off. “You just let me know if it’s too much.” The scent is much calmer compared to the sickly sweet one from earlier. “I had Belphegor send me some sleeping aids. I believe it’s the only reason you’re able to get some actual rest.” Your lips mouth the words “thank you”. Something soft and warm covers you, and you feel yourself sink further into the mattress. “I don’t know how much of your power was stripped, or how much you even had to begin with. Mammon was right about that, you are a newer angel, you might not even be able to do much other than heal.” His voice is growing harder to understand, it’s fading into the back, and sleep pulls you further in. “However, I wouldn’t ask you to even attempt to heal yourself- not in this state,” he whispers.

“Taste bad,” is all that you can mutter. Your head pounds, and it feels like it’s swelling. Each word that you speak is laid thick and slurred together. Every syllable only brings you sickness and an ache in your skull.

“I know,” he sighs. “The medicine here doesn’t taste good, but there’s not much that I can do about it.” A cloth dabs at your mouth. “Hell is supposed to be a punishment after all,” he says with a humorless laugh. “I’m- I’m sure that Heaven’s medicine is still divine as ever,” they mumble with a heavy weight on the words. 

“Like nectar,” you speak softly, the memory of it faint on your tongue. 

Something brushes along your face, and you feel the pull of sleep. “Yeah,” he breathes out, “like nectar.”

-

Knocking on the door disrupts your sleep. Something gargles sounds on the other side of the door. In your mind, it’s too faint to make anything out. You hear the squeak of the door open, and through bleary eyes, you make out two tall figures. Again, they speak to you, and you nod back to sleep.

You feel the latex of gloves touch your body, knuckles the brush against the nape of your neck and hands that grab your arms, ready to still you as you tense. “We’re just changing your bandages.” You shake your head. “It’ll be quick, just stay still.” You’d rather deal with an infection than with how the doctors treat you. You recall a voice making an argument that you’re not welcomed here, that you're an angel in a land of sin. 

“No, no,” you mutter, tears staining your face and wetting the pillow. You feel the cold breeze on your back, whispering over your wounds. The stickiness of the gauze peels away from you, and you can smell the stench of it- metallic, rich and earthy. Something so sweet, and it disgusts you and the doctors. 

Their hands grip tighter onto you, holding you down and you yelp. “Stay still.” You recall many moons ago how Lute told you something similar. How her words were laced with sorrow and false bravado. These doctors, these demons, spit the words at you, and hold you down. 

Your hands claw at the mattress, your screams echoing against the wall, bouncing and ringing in your ears. Light blinds you immediately as your eyes flash open, and your head is head, pushed down onto the mattress, as curses are spit onto you. You’re in Hell. Your teeth find themselves tearing into the pillow, drool pooling into a puddle and tears slipping down.

“Just,” they grunt, and press firmly down on your back, “stay still.” You gasp for breath, kicking and digging your knees into the bed. “Please,” they beg, and you fall, your body limp and heavy on the bed. 

As quick as it started, it ends just as quick. You’re left sobbing, gasping for breath, and despite the pain, and tearing open the wound, you hug yourself, your nails scratching against the cloth. They’ve placed it far too tight for you. 

-

Only a few weeks pass when you’re finally cognitive. When your head isn’t splitting at every noise, and you can move somewhat without risking any pain or even your fear of opening the wounds back open. You stay as still as possible, and try not to do any sudden movement that would stretch your back. Lucifer has attempted to reassure you that you’re fine now, that combined with Hell’s magic and his own blessing, you should be fit to move around. Of course, you will be sore, that can only go away with time. 

“You’ll be left with scars. That can’t be helped,” he told you, his eyes focused on how your hands fist the blanket, “but you’ll be okay.” He gives you a tender smile, and you cling to it in the night.

Once you were in a proper headspace, you knew you shouldn’t have been surprised to know that it was him taking care of you. From what you can faintly recall in one of the many conversations that he’s had in the room as you recovered, he knows what it’s like to be cast out. 

However, you are surprised at how caring and patient he is. That despite you being able to do most things on your own without stumbling, he is still beside you, keeping you company and comforting you when he has to change the bandages. He hardly lets anyone else do it after you complained about doctors accidentally wrapping the bandages too tight. His gentleness is a mask for his pity, and he can never meet your eyes without looking away. 

-

You’re laid on your stomach, and your only entertainment is wondering what could be inside the bedside drawers. While moving does not cause as much discomfort as it once did, you don’t risk stretching. You sit straight, and you look at the wall, and dare not to stretch your arms. Pillows have been fluffed and placed to create a soft barrier between you and the headboard of the bed. Knuckles rap against the door in a rhythm, and you stare at the wall in front of you. You wait for a second, and with a breath, you allow for the person to enter. 

“Hello,” Lucifer calls. “I’ve brought you some fruit. I’m sure that you must have been feeling peckish.” You give no reply. “I uh- I also brought some books.” The bowl of fruit is balanced above the small stack of books. “I was thinking that I’ll get you a television or something soon. But maybe some literature would be good for you.” He rests the tower on the dresser, and grabs the bowl between his hands. 

You should reply to him. You should tell him thank you- not just for the books and the bowl of fruit, but for housing you, for caring for you. But you cannot. Not when he’s a constant reminder of where you are. 

“I was wondering if there was any type of genre that you might like.” He sounds hopeful, wanting to continue a conversation with the husk in front of him. “It would be no trouble to get them to you.” 

His smile is stretched thin, and it looks painful. All of this is painful. Your eyes flitter over to the fruit bowl, and you wonder how you’d feed yourself when stretching your arms still pulls at the scars. 

“Would you like some?” He leans towards you, and you have the mental image of being some hurt bird being nursed back to health. “I had some demons go over to Earth and get some for you. I thought you’d prefer this over the food that we have here. Since you aren’t accustomed to Hell’s food, yet.” You stay silent, and after a moment he sighs. His heels click against the floor, and the bowl is placed on your lap. “You know,” he starts, “it would help if you talked. I know what you’re going through, and you can’t- you shouldn’t isolate yourself.” When you refuse to answer, he sighs. “Well, if you need something, just let me know.”

Despite not wanting to be here, of not having any need to want to continue your existence, you have grown a strong dislike of being alone in this room. You have no idea if he’s isolating for your own safety, or for some other nefarious reason. He clasps the door knob around his hand, and twists it. You wet your lips, and you need someone to talk to. 

“Lucifer?” You croak out, and you surprise yourself with your voice. You hadn’t heard it in so long, past the screaming and the tears. He turns to you, taking a step closer, and his hand returns the door knob to its closed position. “Can you stay?” You feel sick looking at the fruit. “Please?”

With a gentle smile, he nods his head. “Of course.” He grabs a chain from the corner of the room and carries it to sit beside you. It’s a deep wooden color, intricate designs carved into the legs of the chair, and a deep red cushion that is stitched into the seat and the back. 

The silence between the two of you is broken by the crunch of the fruit. You pierce a grape with the silver tines of the fork, and your body aches with the movement to bring it up to your mouth. The sweet juice does nothing to aide in your brooding and the awkward silence. 

He’s right, and you know that. You have to try. He’s the only contact that you have. Adam always hated how you’d hide your emotions, how you rather shut the world off, and at least that hasn’t changed since your falling. You need to talk to him. You can see the attempt that Lucifer has been making in order to keep you happy, to make your time here just a bit more bearable. You suck in your lower lip, and let your tongue brush over where your teeth have grazed.

“I was promised a trial,” you start. His eyes are on you, and you see him fiddle with his tie. “They promised it would have been fair.” You frown, and shake your head, an ache heavy in your chest. “I was so hopeful that it would have been.” The fruit is bitter on your tongue and you force yourself to swallow it.

After a moment’s silence, he speaks. “Who would have been the judge?”

The apple is pierced between your teeth, the skin ripping from the flesh of the apple. It was cute with care, no hint of the core tarnishing the fruit, ripe and perfect, only to be mauled by your teeth. “Father.” You swallow the fruit. “Or perhaps one of the Virtues.” Oranges are peeled, torn apart from the other slices, the piths of white removed. “I was worried that I would have fallen, even before I was given my verdict. My-” you look at Lucifer, and you remember who he has stolen- “I feared that I would have fallen, because I didn't matter. No one questions Heaven’s beliefs, not since-” you glance at him, and he turns his head- “I was sure I would have met the same fate.” The sweetness of the strawberries make your jaw tingle and ache. “And I did.”

“I’m sorry.” You hold the fork tightly, the silver pressing into the flesh of your palms. “The fear you had must have been,” he pauses, “intense.”

There is no one better who understands, other than Lucifer himself. You nod, and let the fork ding against the glass of the bowl. “I was good. I did what was needed of me, I didn’t dare speak out of turn.” You think of how Adam would run his mouth, how every other word would be a curse, would be of anything lewd. “Perhaps I wasn’t as good as I thought I was. Not if a question were enough to have me expelled from Heaven.” 

A gloved hand reaches, and falls just before your thigh. A gold band hugs at his finger, and you’re surprised to have yet seen his wife. Feeling your stare, he turns his hand, and lets the other fingers hide the symbol of matrimony. 

“Sometimes, that’s all it takes,” he says quietly, his tone soft, and wistful. “But, if it makes you feel any better, Hell has some redeeming qualities. It’s not all pain and suffering.” You look at him, and he gives you a smile. “We have an amusement park. There’s a uh-” he scratches the back of his neck, his gaze pointed elsewhere and checks flushing- “ride modeled after me.”

The corners of your lips turn, and you narrow your eyes at him. “After you?” You ask, an elfish tinge laced into your words.

“Shaped like my head.” A finger makes a circle in front of his face.

You scoff out a laugh, and the sound surprises you. You attempt to hide the smile, but when the corners still turn upwards, you look at your lap. “You are the Avatar of Pride after all,” you tell him, the lilt faint on your words.

“It’s actually very impressive,” he points out. “A whole ride dedicated to my likeness.”

“The line for it must be awful.” The juice of the fruit is thin on your tongue. “Heaven has zoos. There’s an area where you get to feed the birds out of the palm of your hand.” You push the fork upwards with the knuckle of your index. “They hardly ever peck your palm, but when they do, we call them kisses from one of Father’s creations.”

He snorts, and shakes his head. His smile is soft, and there's a lingering sadness to it before it falls. “Down in the Wrath ring, there are livestock shows where you’ll find horse bucking and catching the flamed greased pig.” You give him a look, and he smiles. “It’s not as nice as the zoo, I’m sure, but it’s just as entertaining.” He leans back on his chair. “Sometimes I would take my daughter.”

“Your daughter?” You knew of his wife, but you hadn’t realized that they had a child. “I didn’t know you had a daughter.”

He winces, and nods sheepishly. “Charlie,” he tells you her name. “I think you’d like her- she’s peppy.” He gives you a tense smile, and looks away. “We don’t talk as much as we used to.”

You frown. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

He shakes his head, and lets out a sigh. He sits straighter, and pulls his shoulders back. “How are the bandages?” You roll your ankles, unsure what to make of the sudden shift in conversation. “They’re not too tight are they?” It’s not your place to pry, and you don’t want to make him uncomfortable when he’s the one caring for you.

“No, Lucifer,” you answer. “They’re fine. Thank you.”

He nods, and you can tell he’s grown uncomfortable now. You don’t blame him. “Of course. I wanted to make sure that you were comfortable. As much as possible.” 

A silence befalls between the two of you. You bite into the fruit, and force yourself to swallow it. The nectar is sweet and makes your jaw ache. Beside you, Lucifer clears his throat, and you turn to him.He looks away, his eyes trained on the walls.

“If I may ask, I- Well you see, you know my name-” he looks at you again, and you tap your nails against the glass- “and I don’t know yours.” Your eyes widen, and you try to think back on when you might have whispered your name to him, but you can’t recall it. “I just- I was thinking since you’re here, and I’ve changed your bandages, I thought, that I should be calling you by your name.”

“My name?” You whisper, and you feel silly for keeping it close to you. For just a fraction of a second, for some far away thought to be held, that you didn’t want to share the last thing that ties you to Heaven.

“If only that’s okay. If not, we can come up with a nickname or something.”

You shake your head. You’ve kept your name to yourself, and you wonder if your pain-induced haze, if he’s ever asked you for it. You stretch your lips, and wet your tongue. “Did you ever ask for it,” you hold the words on your tongue, and they are heavy like wine, “when I was in and out?”

“Yes,” he confesses. “You wouldn’t answer.”

A name given by Heaven; whispered to you gently in the arms of Father, as sunlight shined down upon you and warmth surrounded you in your creation. It’s silly, and childish to cling to it, to hold onto it like a child holds onto their blanket, but it’s all that you have left. Everything else was stripped from you, taken and tossed aside, and you wonder if your name even holds any significance back home. 

You turn to Lucifer, and your name is heavy on your tongue, bitter like wine, and it’s your name, fitting you like a glove that will fit no other. 

Lucifer repeats your name, whispering it under his breath, tasting it between his canines and tongue, and you watch him. Chills run down your spine, and the feeling is not unpleasant. He catches your eyes, and his cheeks flush, the red spots darkening, under your gaze. He calls your name once more, louder and clearer, want held between the vowels, as if to savor your name, to savor what you’ve given to him. 

You nod, your chest aflame, as if you’ve done something scandalous. You can’t trust your voice, not when he's looking at you. Your knuckles feel as if it’s on pins, tingling and having you scratch against the bowl. 

He glances at your lap. “Are you done?” 

“Yes,” you breathe out rather quickly. 

He reaches for the bowl, grabbing it by the rim and stands from his chair. You watch in silence as he pushes the chair back, letting it block one of the drawers from the nightstand. The bowl clinks against the mahogany of the dresser, and he grabs the books, flush against his chest. 

“I hadn’t meant to leave the books so far from you,” he says, placing them on the nightstand. “They’ll be closer within your reach.” You nod, and peek over, reading the title of the first book. “I’ll be back in a few hours, if you need anything, feel free to call out. I’ll make sure to hear it.”

He walks away, his heels clicking against the floor, and you don’t want to be alone anymore. “Lucifer,” you call out, fisting the blankets in your hand. He turns around, pressing the bowl against his body, his hand wrapped tight around the doorknob, already opening it and stepping into the rest of his domain. You swallow nothing, and try not to think of anything other than gratitude.  “Thank you for everything,” you tell him, sending him a thinned smile. 

“Of course,” he calls your name in a sweet tone. “Whatever you need, just let me know.”

The door closes shut, and you let out a breath. Your hands fist at your shirt, grasping and you bite the inner corners of your lips, feeling the soft flesh of it be pierced by your teeth. It’s been far too long since you’ve had a gentle hand, since you’ve had someone be gentle with you. A hand reaches out and scratches along your bicep, pulling the skin and leaving soft arches across. 

You hadn’t realized how much you would miss Adam.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel x reader #hh x reader #adam x reader #hh adam x reader #i think i should tag this one as lucifer #hazbin hotel lucifer #hh lucifer #im not too confident in how i wrote him #i think he's a bit too posh #but he is a king #and i think after like years #he kinda of became regal #just to like hold some type of diplomatic power and be respected #later on he becomes a bit more of a wet noodle #i think he wants to like kinda of live throughout reader #and its obvs that he misses heaven and has some unresolved feelings with it and he misses his wife and daughter #so reader is a bit of a project for him but in a good way #reader is just lonely and sad #and they feel too much

[pupsclawz]

Gone

Part II

Pairing: Jenna Ortega x Reader

Warnings: Drug abuse/overdose, (attempted) suicide, dark themes.

Word count: 743 words

Summary: You were having a breakdown when you decided you finally had enough. (You didn't die in this one... Or did you?)

a/n: I know I said I wasn't gonna post but I just had a burst of inspiration. This one is a bit dark so. Warnings are above. Also, Jenna isn't in this ch just yet but it will be a JennaxR fic. I also tried to make this realistic as possible (Im sure I failed). Anyways no beta, I hope ya'll enjoy! Edited: Basically the old a/n said that this Jennas name wasnt mentioned in this chapter. My brain decided that it wasn't Jenna in this ch but someone else. Uhhh sorry for that but yeah!

You sat at the edge of your bed smiling as silent tears streaked down your face. These past few weeks had been hectic and overwhelming, and every single suppressed thing came crashing down on you. 

“You aren’t good enough.”

“You’re a fucking failure.”

“You can’t even do shit right.”

“No one cares about you.”

“See? If they did care, they’d be here. Where are they?”

“You don’t even know what to do with your pathetic self”

“Fucking coward! Just tell someone,”

“If they knew, they wouldn't believe you. Look at how many times you’ve told them something only to be brushed off,” 

Your body shook as you were racked with sobs, more tears streaming down your face. You couldn’t help but believe the voices. 

With shaky hands, you reached forward, grabbing a bottle of pills on the nightstand. You read the label and warnings on the bottle. 

“They’re not gonna miss you when you’re gone,”

“You’ve done nothing for them so, they’ll probably be glad that you’re gone,”

“It’s not like you mattered anyways. Your grades were always low, you’re the lazy one, you can’t even follow simple instructions!”

“Now look at you! Jobless laying around all day like you own the fuckin world!”

“You’re worthless! Ya fuckin disappointment!”

With trembling hands, you slowly grasped the cap of the bottle as you pressed down and slowly unscrewed it. You looked down at the pills bouncing around as you gently shook it, ruminating on what you should do next.

“You’re a disappointment”

A disappointment. That was all you were. Ever since you were a child, everyone’s expectations about you, including your own, was always high. While you did fine for most of your childhood years, these recent ones only got worse. You seemed to fail on anything that you do. Every fucking thing that you were told to do just wasn’t good enough. 

“You’re worthless!”

Your hands trembled more and more as the voice kept echoing in your mind. The sound of the pills reaching your ears was barely enough to keep you grounded. Being told that you were worthless while seemingly trying harder than most was infuriating. You tried so hard to do everything in your power to be enough for them and yet they still didn’t appreciate you or your efforts. 

With the final thought, you looked back down at the bottle before downing every single pill left inside. You swallowed what you could while spitting out the rest as air became a necessity. You fell forwards onto the floor in a coughing fit trying to get some air.

You sat on the floor with your back against a wall as you waited for the silent and peaceful bliss to arrive. 

It was about 25 minutes later when you started to feel the effects of the drug. You felt as if the whole world was spinning (Technically it is) and your stomach felt like it was being stabbed over and over again. A few moments later, you began to feel drowsy despite the pain. You curled up into a fetal position, letting yourself drift off; Awake but not fully.

You were startled out of your trance as your phone began to ring. You blearily looked up before clumsily scrambling to get it. After a few minutes of trying you finally had the ringing phone in your hands. You read the name before you answered the phone, not registering who was calling.

“Hey y/n!” A feminine voice sounded through the phone.

You just groaned in response, feeling worse than before.

“Hey, you okay?” The girl asked in a worried tone.

You were about to speak when you audibly threw up, vomit spraying all over the place. You clutched your still aching stomach as you coughed, trying to rid your throat of vomit. 

“Y/n! Are you okay? I’m gonna call the ambulance, try to stay awake!” The girl yelled through the phone, her voice clearly panicked.

You let out a loud groan as you let your body go limp, waiting for the suffering to end and the relief to begin. 

It was a couple of minutes later when the ambulance arrived. By that time, you were laying on the vomit covered floor unresponsive with a hand clutching your stomach. The EMTs quickly got you onto a backboard as they moved you toward the ambulance. The flashing lights of the ambulance was the last thing you saw before you completely lost all consciousness...

#fanfiction #fanfic #jenna ortega #drugs cw #drug abuse #cw drugs #jenna x reader #jenna ortega x reader #jenna x y/n #jenna ortega x you #angst #dark theme #dont like dont read #sorry

[perotovar]

into the beat of the night (ch 3) "self control"

moodboard by the lovely @hellishjoel, gif by me

pairing: frankie morales/enby!oc!river price (they/them) rating: 18+ (minors dni) chapter warnings: fingering, one (1) handjob, discussions of sexuality/gender (in an... interesting way), goth stereotypes abound, swearing, more cute shit word count: 3k dividers by @saradika beta: @scenaaario (ily adrienne ♥)

for notifications, follow @oakslibrary and turn on alerts ♥

series summary: frankie thought he had himself figured out by now. he liked both men and women, had dated both in the past. but when someone that challenges what he thinks that means comes into his life, in an unlikely place, he truly learns who he is, and more importantly, who he loves.

series masterlist

“What’s their name again?”

“River. I already told you, Benjamin,” Frankie chuckled, taking a drink from his beer.

“Right, sorry. I’ve just never met a non… what was it again?”

Frankie, Benny, Will, and Santiago were at their usual bar that night. It was in a different part of town than The Night Owl, with a completely different vibe, but it was cozy. The four of them had become regulars and knew the staff by name.

“Non-binary person,” Will said, shoving Benny on the shoulder. “Are you listening at all?”

Benny shot his brother a look and stuck his tongue out, because apparently Benny was still five. “Of course I’m listening! Non-bi-nar-y,” he sounded it out, tapping his finger on the table with each syllable. “What does, uh… What does that like, mean, Fish?”

Frankie furrowed his brows and took another drink. “I haven’t actually asked yet. All they told me is that they’re like… both, and neither, at the same time.” He hummed thoughtfully. “I was a little distracted after that and didn’t get to ask.”

Santiago grinned, slapping Frankie on the shoulder. “Good for you, Fish.”

Frankie rolled his eyes, but smiled, thinking about the kiss he shared with River the other night. They kept texting, and he’d even asked River out on a real date, which brought the guys to the bar. It had been a year or so since his last date and he needed advice on where to take someone like River. He wasn’t as familiar with the goth subculture and thought maybe his brothers would have experience. At the very least Ben, who’d been with a few different kinds of people.

“I did look it up that night after I got home, but I’m still a little confused,” Frankie shrugged.

“Just ask them, man,” Will offered. “They seemed cool with your first question.”

Frankie nodded, a look of determination crossing his features. “You’re right. It couldn’t hurt, right?”

Frankie was sweating. Marisol was with her mom this week, so he hadn’t had to worry about having that conversation yet. He was planning on telling River about her tonight. He checked his hair in the mirror again before he left, deciding to go without his hat tonight, but worried all his nerves would deflate the work he put into it. He sighed as he messed around with the unruly curls again. This is why he stuck to hats. Frankie’s phone vibrated on the bathroom counter, startling him.

ok im ready, eddie 😉

River still thought it was hilarious that Frankie had worn an Iron Maiden t-shirt to a goth club, claiming that it fit his “old man aesthetic”, whatever that meant. This led to River referring to Frankie as “Eddie”, after the band’s skeleton mascot.

Yeah yeah i’m coming

Frankie saw the typing dots appear and disappear a couple times before disappearing completely. He sighed to himself and checked his hair one last time before leaving his apartment. 

When he got to the neighborhood of the address River had given him, he checked his phone again, making sure he was in the right place. He slowly crept up the hill towards the last line of apartments and immediately his heart started pounding. Frankie really liked River. He didn’t want to fuck this up, and hoped him being a dad wouldn’t ruin that. Or his big dumb mouth.

River was standing at the bottom of the staircase of the apartment complex and waved, a huge grin on their face. Frankie stopped the truck and leaned over to open the passenger side door for them to climb inside. The scent of bergamot, clove, and sandalwood filled his nostrils again as the truck door shut. Frankie calmed down, and smiled, leaning over to give River a kiss on the cheek. “You look amazing,” he breathed, taking in River’s outfit; they had a collarless shirt buttoned up all the way, tucked into plaid pants, and nice dress shoes. All black, of course. They wore no lipstick today, their makeup was simple, and their hair was perfectly straight. It looked like they’d freshly shaved the right side of their head as well. River’s look was so new for Frankie, he couldn’t help being captivated by them every time he saw them.

“Thank you,” River smiled, heart skipping a beat. “Where are we off to?” They rested their ring-clad hand over Frankie’s larger one in between the two of them on the seat. “When you said it was a surprise, I admit I got a little nervous.”

Frankie placed his hand on the back of the truck seat and looked behind them as he backed up to leave the apartment complex. River’s eyes were glued to Frankie’s neck and subtly licked their lips at the sight of the thick muscles and veins. Their eyes moved up to Frankie’s side profile and they swooned.

“How come? Don’t trust me?” Frankie smirked, making eye contact before his eyes moved to the road, and started heading toward their destination.

River shrugged, even though they knew he couldn’t see them. “Maybe. Maybe not,” they smirked. The red light of the clock on the console caught River’s eye; 7:30pm. 

“Well, that’s a shame. I had a nice dinner planned and everything,” Frankie showed them an exaggerated pout, a twinkle in his eye.

“Oh, well, in that case.”

The restaurant Frankie picked might’ve been a little more… casual, then he remembered. The last time he was here was with Jackson. He shook off the memory. He was here with River now. The place was actually more like a diner, with vintage photos of women in pinup-style outfits and poses.

Frankie reached for River’s hand and laced their fingers together as he found them a table, letting River sit first.

“Such a gentleman,” River teased, squeezing his hand before getting comfy in the booth.

“I try,” Frankie smiled bashfully as he joined them on the opposite side. The light shining down onto the table lit River beautifully. He noticed that River’s button-up was actually a dark green, with subtle velvet roses all over.

They ordered their food and made easy conversation. River talked about their job as an architect. They were working on designing a building that was be built in the next couple of years in the city. Frankie found it fascinating but couldn’t focus on the words, too distracted by their calming voice and watching their mannerisms. River talked with their hands a lot whenever they got excited about something, and Frankie thought it was adorable.

“Sorry, I know I’m rambling now,” River shook their head, cutting themself off. Frankie frowned,mouth full of french fries.

“Please, continue, I don’t mind listening.”

So River did. They talked about anything and everything. Frankie interjected here and there, but was more than content to listen to River talk. When there was a lull in the conversation, Frankie’s palms started to get sweaty. Their plates were empty now, but River still had half of their milkshake left.

It was now or never. Frankie took a deep breath.

“So… I’ve been meaning to tell you something,” he started. River raised an eyebrow and rested their chin on the palm of their hand, listening. Frankie cleared his throat before continuing. “Um, so I know this is a dealbreaker for some people, so I won’t be offended if you want to stop things after tonight. B-But I would like to stay friends if that’s the case.” He rubbed his sweaty hands on his thighs. “I’ve got a daughter.”

River was quiet for a second before a small smile appeared on their face. “I’m actually not surprised. How old is she?”

“You’re not?”

“Of course not. You’re an incredibly handsome man of a certain age–”

“Hey.”

“And any woman would be stupid not to make an honest man outta you,” River winked.

Frankie blinked a couple times before chuckling softly. River continued to surprise him. “Well, her mother isn’t in the picture, at least not with me. Marisol, my daughter, sees her half the time, and stays with me the other half of the time,” he explained, crossing his arms comfortably over the table. “Oh, and she’s four.”

“Aww, can I see a picture of her?”

Frankie’s heart fluttered as pulled his phone out, opening the album of photos devoted just to his little girl. He slid his phone over to River and they started scrolling through the photos with a smile on their face.

“She’s adorable, Frankie,” River hummed, returning his phone back to him. “I can tell you think the world of her. I won’t lie, I’m not really… uh, a kid kind of person. I always just planned on being the cool cousin and not a parent,” they muttered, resting their chin on their palm again.

Frankie nodded in understanding. “I totally get that. I just figured it wouldn’t be fair to you, or to Marisol, to keep her a secret, y’know?”

“Absolutely, and I appreciate you telling me,” River nodded back. “But I like you. A lot. And I’m willing to give this a shot with you. So I don’t think Marisol is a dealbreaker.”

Frankie’s heart soared at River’s words. “I really like you, too,” he grinned like an idiot, cheeks warm. “C’mon, we still have another part to this date.” He stood up and held his hand out for River to take.

After paying, the two found themselves back in Frankie’s truck heading down the highway. It was starting to get darker and the roads were clearing. They pulled up to a drive-in, but there weren’t any other cars.

“What is this, Grease?” River teased. “A diner and then a drive-in movie?”

Frankie snorted and reached out his window to pay for their tickets before finding somewhere to park. “I happen to like drive-in movies and diners, thank you very much.”

“That’s because you’re old–”

“I’m only a few years older than you,” Frankie deadpanned.

“Details.”

About a third of the way into the original Halloween, Frankie put his arm around River’s shoulders and pulled them close. River happily cuddled into Frankie’s side, loving the warmth and softness they found there.

Halfway through, River’s eyes started wandering elsewhere. They looked down at the crotch of Frankie’s jeans, and wondered what lay beyond the tight denim. They looked up at Frankie’s face and kissed the little patch in his beard that refused to grow hair. Frankie looked down at them, deep brown eyes looking over River’s features. He went from their dark-rimmed eyes, to their collarbone, and back to their plush lips, his heart pounding. He didn’t need any further convincing and started kissing River deeply, holding the side of their face.

River hummed into Frankie’s mouth and slowly crawled into Frankie’s lap. They grinned as Frankie huffed a breath against their lips, holding River’s hips in his large hands. River kissed the corner of Frankie’s mouth before moving down to the side of his neck and sucked a mark where his neck met his shoulder. Frankie shuddered, moving a hand down and squeezing River’s ass. They lifted their head and looked at the far-away expression on his face.

“Are you one of those guys that doesn’t like to fool around on the first date?”

Frankie blinked up at River, thinking about it. “I mean, no, but–” “Good,” River growled, latching back onto Frankie’s neck and sucking hard.

Frankie moaned openly at that, but pulled them away. “Wait,” he breathed. River tilted their head to the side and didn’t say anything, letting Frankie continue. “Um, I had another question.”

“Okay.”

“Well, uh. I don’t mean to kill the mood, because God, I really wanna get back to that, b-but I was curious,” Frankie swallowed, not making eye contact again. “I looked up what non-binary was after you told me and I was a little confused, and basically I just– Um, I wanna know like, how… this would… work,” he trailed off, gesturing between the two of them and at the bulge in his jeans.

“You’re asking what I have so you know how to proceed.” It was a statement, not a question, said softly in understanding. River played with the curls at the back of Frankie’s neck.

Frankie nodded. “If that’s an invasive question, I’m really sorry, and–”

“Shh,” River chuckled, pecking Frankie on the cheek. “It’s okay, I promise. I’m not offended. You’re actually being really sweet about all of this. I know this is new for you.”

Frankie smiled shyly and shrugged, but let them continue.

“I was raised as a girl. ‘Assigned female at birth’, is typically what we call it,” River looked down, playing with the collar of Frankie’s shirt. “You were assigned male at birth. The doctors looked at your parts and decided that’s what you were, and you never felt like it was incorrect, right?”

Frankie nodded, listening carefully.

“Right. Well, it felt wrong to me. I didn’t really know what the feeling was growing up. It’s actually kind of a recent development for me.”

Frankie chewed on his bottom lip, one question still buzzing around his head. “How do you… How did you know? And did you… have any… surgeries? To um–” he didn’t know how to word any of this.

River laughed softly. “Yeah, I had top surgery. I no longer have breasts, as I’m sure you’ve noticed. Everything below the belt is still intact,” they grinned, moving their crotch closer to Frankie’s. “The complicated answer, especially for someone so new to this, is that gender is a societal thing. How you’re perceived, presented to the world is just through the eyes of society. How you see yourself is what actually matters, though. And when all that societal bullshit doesn’t affect your life, the roles you’re ‘supposed’ to play don’t matter anymore.”

“I’m River. River is me. I don’t care how people see me. I did all of this,” they gestured to their body. “For me. Not for anyone else. Because if I didn’t, I would be unhappy. And my own mental health and happiness matters more than some so-called church-going do-gooder’s opinion.”

Frankie looked at River in awe. Their confidence and respect for themself was one of the most attractive things he’d ever seen. “You’re amazing,” Frankie breathed, surging forward to kiss them deeply. He gripped River’s ass again and pulled them closer, grinding his hardening cock against them.

River moaned softly, grinding back, and tangling their fingers into his hair. Suddenly, Frankie pulled back, catching his breath.

“Wait, does that, like…” He thought for a second. “While I was doing my research, I came across a couple other terms I didn’t know.”

River chuckled and kissed down Frankie’s neck softly. “Go on.”

Frankie’s breath hitched, speaking shakily. “Um, I’ve always considered myself b-bisexual– oh– a-and if non-binary people are technically a th-third gender, then does that change?”

“No,” River hummed, licking underneath Frankie’s ear, before taking the lobe into their mouth and nibbling.

“It doesn’t?”

River shook their head. “Bisexual is more like an umbrella term. People interpret it differently,” they reached a hand down between them, trailing their fingers to Frankie’s belt buckle and undoing it. “For example, you’ve always assumed it just meant you were attracted to men and women, right?”

Frankie moaned softly as the pressure was relieved from his hard cock, and nodded.

“Exactly. Another way you could see it is you being attracted to people that are like you,” they gripped Frankie’s cock tightly, making him gasp sharply. “And people who aren’t.” They grabbed his hand and placed it onto their crotch, grinding against him.

He was so hard he was throbbing, and so turned on his head spun. He started undoing River’s dress pants and slipped his hand down to their panties, finding their pussy impossibly warm and wet. 

“Fuck,” Frankie groaned, rubbing at their clit through the fabric of their underwear. River moaned sweetly and bit their bottom lip, moving Frankie’s boxer briefs out of the way so they could grip around his cock.

“You’re so hard,” River grinned, rubbing their thumb over the tip. They started stroking him slowly, watching as the head of Frankie’s cock appeared and disappeared underneath the foreskin. 

Frankie was breathing heavily, resting his head on the back of his seat and looking at River through his lashes. He moved the tips of his fingers in small circles for a few moments before he moved his fingers beneath their underwear and touched bare skin. River gasped at the contact and nodded, giving him permission.  Frankie slowly sunk his middle finger inside them and started pumping in and out. His thumb rubbed in time against their clit. River started moaning louder, throwing their head back to expose their throat to him.

Frankie saw an opening and latched his mouth onto their neck, marking them in return as his free hand held the back of River’s head. “You’re so fucking sexy,” he groaned, biting at River’s skin.

River shuddered at the praise, rocking their hips against Frankie’s hand. “‘M close,” they whined, panting down at him. They started to lose their rhythm on Frankie’s cock and squeezed him tightly in their fist. Frankie nodded in understanding and started moving his fingers faster, adding a second one as the slick sounds coming from between River’s legs filled the truck. 

“C’mon, baby. You gonna come for me?” he breathed against their neck, leaving soft kisses against their skin. The contrast between what his mouth and what his hand were doing was overwhelming and River wouldn’t change it for the world. 

River nodded, their brows moving downward in pleasure before stilling above him as they came. Their hips rocked back and forth over Frankie’s hand as they came down, moaning and biting their lip. 

The sight of River coming was enough for Frankie and his cock twitched hard as he erupted all over River’s hand. He grunted and hid his face in their neck as his balls emptied messily. He whined softly, twitching in the aftershocks. 

River giggled quietly and held him close after licking their hand clean. “Gonna have to blow you next time,” they hummed thoughtfully.

Frankie groaned as his oversensitive cock twitched between them. “Don’t say shit like that while I’m still vulnerable, you menace.”

River bit his cheek, then kissed it softly. “You love it.”

He did. He really did.

a/n: please enjoy this meme that inspired the scene above

#frankie morales #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales fluff #frankie morales smut #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal cinematic universe #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier smut #triple frontier fic #oaksfics

[hornyfor-redacted-onmain]

Longing

Pieces of My Heart - Chapter 10 Stray Kids OT8 x reader, Soulmate AU

Masterlist | Next Part

Chan Hey, just checking in. How’s your dad? Y/N He’s good, awake and lucid Doctors say everything went smoothly, he should make a full recovery Chan That’s good. Y/N How are the boys? Chan Missing you. Img.png Y/N Tell them I miss them too Chan I will. Give your dad our best wishes. Y/N Thanks

0o0o0

Sophie Hey, I just got your message Are you okay? Y/N Don’t worry, I’m fine. My dad’s okay too I didn’t get a chance to update you Had a lot on my mind Sophie No, yeah. I get it Y/N How was the day 2 concert? Sophie Just as amazing as day 1 Well, actually it was a bit weird I felt like the members weren’t as playful as the first time around. It seemed like they had a lot on their mind too … Maybe it was just one of those days Y/N Yeah, I guess Sophie Either way, it’s a shame we didn’t get to hang out more before you left I’m glad your dad’s okay Y/N Me too. If I’m ever back in the city, I’ll let you know Sophie Of course. In the meantime, want to see some videos from last night? Y/N Sure!

0o0o0

Y/N You sure you don’t want anything from the store? Mom I’m sure sweetie, thank you. Y/N Ok Mom Hey, while I have a chance to talk to you without your dad listening in. We need to talk about your soulmates. Y/N What about them? Mom Sweetheart, I remember when I met my soulmate. We were inseparable for weeks. I couldn’t even imagine how hard it is to be away from them right now. Y/N Mom … Mom I mean, even now, not being able to see her makes me uncomfortable. Why do you think we have our weekly Friday night meet ups? Y/N I thought that was just an excuse to go out and complain about Dan from finances Mom You and I both know I don’t need an excuse to complain about Dan. But that’s not the point. I can’t stand not being with Lucy. And we’re only platonic soulmates. From what I’ve heard, that’s definitely not the case with you. Y/N Mom! Mom You should be with your soulmates. Y/N Dad’s still in recovery, mom You can’t take care of him yourself, you have work and your health issues … You need help. They understand, we can make it work Besides, they’re on tour. I was going to have to be away from them for a while anyway It’s not like I could just go on tour with them Mom I’m sure that’s not true. Y/N Im almost back at the room. We can talk about this later

0o0o0

Soulmates

Y/N Hey Did you guys land yet? Seungmin Few minutes ago Felix Hi!!! How are you?! I’m good Felix, thank you ^^ Seungmin Img.png Img.png Img.png Felix YAH! Seungmin wtf!??! Seungmin Not my fault you all fell asleep on the plane Felix So you decided to photograph us?!!? Seungmin Blackmail material Minho I’m going to commit murder Y/N Awww, you guys look so cute I hope you guys get some rest … Guys? Wait he wasn’t serious about the murder was he? Hyunjin Hi baby I miss you Jisung I miss you too! Hyunjin I miss them more! Chan Guys, it’s not a competition Felix But if it is, I definitely miss them more >:) Y/N Guys, Minho wasn’t serious about killing Seungmin, was he? … Guys?

0o0o0

Jeongin Did you have breakfast yet? Y/N Shit, no I’ve been busy. I had to take my dad to his doctor’s appointment today and then I had to go do groceries Jeongin :( Y/N Sorry Innie. I’ll go get a snack rn Jeongin You haven’t been eating a lot lately … You know coffee doesn’t count as a meal, right? Y/N I know Sorry :( Jeongin You need to take care of yourself. I’m worried about you Y/N I will, I promise Jeongin I’ll remind you if you don’t. I swear, you’re worse than Channie-hyung Y/N D: I’m not that bad Jeogin … What did you just eat? It’s disgusting Please never eat that again Y/N You take that back Ham and Jelly toast is delicious and I refuse to accept this slander Plus its an easy snack Jeongin I will pay you to never eat that again Please Stop! DID YOU JUST ADD HOT SAUCE?!!!? Y/N Suffer

0o0o0

Mom I had a talk with my boss about work. He’s agreed to let me work from home for the next few months. Y/N Oh, that’s good. Now you can spend more time with dad during breaks and lunch … Mom It also means that I won’t need your help around the house anymore. Y/N Mom, we’ve talked about this. I’m not leaving you guys! Mom It’s been almost a month. Your soulmates are almost done with their tour You should go see them. Y/N I appreciate the effort mom, I really do. But can you just drop this? Mom No, I won’t. Why are you forcing yourself to be so unhappy? You think I don’t notice how stressed and upset you’ve been lately? You’re not eating well, you’re not getting a lot of sleep. Honey, I’m worried. Being away from your soulmates for so long so soon after meeting can’t be good for you. Or them! Y/N They have each other, they’ll be fine. Mom That’s not how this works, and you know it. Have you even talked to them about it? Y/N I don’t want to talk about it. Not right now. Mom You can’t run away from your problems forever.

0o0o0

Soulmates

Minho 커피 원해? (anyone want coffee?) Jisung ㅇㅇ (yup) Felix 내!!!! (yes!!!!) Chan 주세요. (please.) Seungmin 됐어요 (im good) Y/N I mean, if you’re offering It might be a bit cold by the time you get here though Minho Ahh, wrong chat Sorry Jisung Wait a minute! Since when do you read Korean?!! Y/N I don’t??!! I just used google translate Although I did recognize 내! That means yes :D Minho 귀엽다 (cute) Changbin Waa, our soulmate is so smart. Y/N :D Don’t drink too much coffee though. I’ve been told it is not a meal >:( Im talking to you, Chan Chan I have no idea what you’re talking about Y/N >:( Jeongin >:( Felix >:( Jisung >:( Chan It’s only my second cup today! And the first one was 3 hours ago! Y/N IT’S ONLY 9AM! Chan ��� Felix I’m going to kill you

0o0o0

Y/N Hey, can I ask for some advice? I need an unbiased opinion Sophie Well I’m not sure I’d consider myself unbiased. I’m definitely Han biased, that’s for sure. ;) Y/N It’s about my soulmate Sophie OH! I totally forgot about that, you haven’t talked about them at all! Y/N Yeah, between everything with my dad and then school and stuff … My mom has been on my ass these past few weeks about it Sophie About what? Y/N She thinks its unhealthy for me to be away from them She has this scary close bond with her soulmate, a childhood friend of hers. And she can’t imagine being away from her, so she thinks that I need to go be with my soulmate But I’ve been refusing, and now every time I see her it feels like she’s seconds away from starting another argument I’m just so tired of all the arguing, and wondering if maybe she’s right I have been having a harder time getting sleep Sophie Oh wow, that’s …. Wow. Y/N yeah Sophie I’m not sure you want my honest opinion right now. Y/N Please, I do. I need someone that isn’t my mom to be straight up with me. Am I being irrational? Sophie Well, first of all, being away from your soulmates is definitely not easy. But It’s also not a big deal, and long distance relationships work fine even between new soulmates. So maybe your mom is projecting a little bit. But I don’t think that’s the problem here. Y/N ??? Sophie Why does the idea of leaving to be with your soulmates bother you so much? I mean, when I found Alexis I was overjoyed, but I still didn’t have time to see him a lot. We both had school and work, and it was hard to find time to spend together. Honestly, I would have taken any opportunity I had to be with him. And yet here you are, turning down all of your mom’s offers. I feel like something else is at play here than just your mom’s pushiness. Y/N … Sophie I told you you wouldn’t like my opinion. Y/N No, you’re right Fuck, you’re right Sophie I usually am :) Y/N Thank’s Sophie, I really needed someone to knock some sense into me. Sophie Glad I could help. Want some memes? Y/N Yes, please!

0o0o0

Y/N Mom. I’m sorry You were right, I want to be with my soulmates. I really appreciate everything you’ve done to give me the opportunity to be with them. And I’m sorry I’ve been so stubborn about it. But Mom, I feel like you’re pushing me away. I feel like you don’t want me here. My soulmates will never be more important than you. You’re my mom, and I worry about you and dad. I worry about you guys being by yourselves, about being away from you. I’m scared and I just feel like everything is moving too fast. Can you call me when you get off work? I love you.

0o0o0

Y/N We need to talk Chan That doesn’t sound good Y/N It’s nothing bad, I promise Chan Okay? Y/N My dad has been getting better. He’s walking now. Chan That’s great! I’m glad your dad’s okay. Y/N Yeah Chan I have a feeling that’s not what you wanted to talk about, though. Y/N They managed to talk with a neighbor, and he agreed to drive my dad to his appointments if my mom can’t take him. And I started taking online classes. Chan Huh? Y/N Chris I think we need to talk about what happens when you guys are done with your tour.

#stray kids x reader #skz x reader #stray kids x you #skz x you #chan x reader #chan x you #bangchan x reader #bangchan x you #changbin x reader #changbin x you #lee minho x reader #lee minho x you #minho x reader #minho x you #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x you #han x you #han x reader #jisung x reader #jisung x you #felix x you #felix x reader #seungmin x you #seungmin x reader #in x you #in x reader #jeongin x reader #jeongin x you #stray kids fanfic #pieces of my heart

[orchidyoonkook]

To What We Were Before, And All The Things After | JJK | Ch. 2

Title: Unknown Numbers and Sharp Tongues

Pairing: Prince!College Student!JK x Fine Arts Major!(F)!Reader

Series Rating//Genre: (M) | College AU, Mild Royalty AU, Smut, Angst, Fluff, S2F2L, Indiffernce to lovers, sloooowwww ass burn

Summary: You get a text from an unknown number and it flips your day upside down.

Warnings: PG13, mild swearing, arguments

Word Count: 3065

Release Date: February 2, 2023, 1:40PM

A/N 1: She’s shorter but just as important

Series: Chapter One

It’s 12:07pm the Wednesday after the assembly. You're sitting on your bed sketching when a text vibration sounds from somewhere within the blankets crumpled beneath you. 

A pencil lead stained hand carefully snakes its way through the sheets to find your phone, and after locating it by your feet, you see a message from an unknown number waiting to be read.

Unknown Sender [12:07pm]: Hey, is this YN?

You raise a brow at the semi-suspicious text.

Normally when this happens, you just delete the message. You have everyone you're willing to speak with in your contacts already, so you know that it’s most likely spam. But the difference with this one?

They know your name. 

That being said, your guy friends back home have been known to, on occasion, pull shit because they know you can’t do anything about it. 

Though, that has never once stopped you from waiting to see them again in person and retaliating. Patience is a virtue and all that, but you think they’d of learned by now…

So you fire back, just in case.

You [12:08pm]: Hobi I s2g if this is you again I’m sending Nayeon that picture of you from 9th grade with shutter shades on and your ass stuck in a tuba 

Unknown Sender [12:08pm]: Oh wow, uhm…no, its not Unknown Sender [12:09pm]: But remind me never to get on your bad side.  Unknown Sender [12:10pm]: It’s Jungkook actually... I may have grabbed your number from Yuri’s phone. I hope it’s okay I messaged you 

Jungkook?

As in The Prince of the Western Shores, Jungkook?

Well...

This certainly isn’t how you thought your afternoon was going to go. 

You figured you'd never hear from him again after Monday’s assembly, like everyone else he’d greeted—Yuri aside apparently. Yet here you were, on your bed, in your university dorm room, having a midday text conversation with Prince Jeon Jungkook of all people.

You laugh to yourself and quickly change his name in your contacts, keeping it subtle. You don’t want someone to see his name pop on your screen and then suddenly have a legion of people harassing you about how you got the prince's number, and if they could get it from you. 

You [12:11pm]: yeah, it’s fine

And why wouldn't it be? You don’t dislike him, though he seemed to have thought so. Sure, you don’t particularly like the guy yet, but you're confident he feels the same about you—if he even thinks of you, that is.  

He probably just wants recommendations for things to do this weekend or to know where the cleanest washrooms on campus are. God forbid his royal bottom touch a less than sanitary toilet seat.

PJK [12:13pm]: Im afraid she had to explain to me who ‘blueballzbitch’ was when I accidentally saw your text to her the other day. Apparently my reaction after reading it was very funny

You [12:13pm]: I cant believe she still hasnt changed my name in her phone! That bitch!! she promised :( You [12:14pm]: Thats only my name because i told her she couldnt bring guys back to our dorm after 1 AM anymore! 

PJK [12:14pm]: can I ask why?

You [12:15pm]: there may have been an incident of a very drunk half naked man climbing into my bed at 4 am instead of hers….  You [12:15pm]: And needless to say, not the nicest way to wake up

PJK [12:16pm]: no I would think not. Though that explains her reaction a bit better

You didn’t even want to know. 

She did kick that guy out the second she heard your scream though, drunk as she was. But it didn’t stop her from moping for a week at your new rule.

Tough, you’d had a test the next day, so your decision was final. 

Your academics wouldn’t pay the price for someone else’s actions. On that you were and always have been, firm. You’ve even lost a few friends because of it.

But now your starting to wonder why he wanted to message you in the first place.

You [12:17pm]: i dont mean to be rude, but why did you save my number? To be honest i didnt think I’d hear from you again after monday

PJK [12:18pm]: well if we’re being honest…

There are a million different ways he could follow that sentence, and your mind is simultaneously running through all of them.

It takes him a few minutes, and a couple disappearance and reappearances of the texting in progress bubble, before a reply comes. Your pencil may or may not be a bit chewed on the end as a result.

PJK [12:21pm]: I was hoping that we could be friends, or acquaintances at least. I dont mean to come on too strong, its just that…. well you’re the only one whos really treated me like a regular guy, and i’d like to have at least one person to speak to who wont ‘glaze over the truth with pretty white lies’ just because of who I am. Its a surprisingly hard attribute to come by in people when you have words like “prince” and “your highness” attached to your name PJK [12:22pm]: Everyone either wants something from me or something I can do for them, and when we met? I could see you just…didn’t. It’s like you didnt even care I was there and that was incredibly refreshing for me PJK [12:23pm]: so um, yeah… that’s why

Oh… 

Oh. 

You were expecting anything else. Like literally anything else. He could’ve messaged you saying he wanted to give up being prince to join a traveling circus and was wondering if you knew the quickest train route into town and you would’ve been less surprised than you are right now.

But…Friends? He just wanted to be friends?

You guess you played your part a little too well on Monday. A part you didn't even realize you were performing. 

Was it really so difficult for people to treat him normally that the only person who had done so in three days, was you? And it was so noticeable that he sought you out because of it? His professors, at least, would have treated him like any other student…right?

You sit up, sketch long discarded on your bedside table. 

What would Yuri think about this? What would Nel think? Jungkook isn't just some guy from your Advanced Colour Theory class, he's the prince of your kingdom. 

You know your boyfriend wouldn't care if Jungkook kissed your hand in a passing greeting, that’s the standard greeting for every woman. 

But friends? 

Regular contact? 

Potentially being seen in public with him? 

Even a high ranking societal man would feel threatened, let alone Nel; the highschool boy you fell in love with from your tiny hometown.

Biting your lip, you think. 

You’re not an idiot. You know if people see you—a girl—hanging out with Jungkook—the prince, but more importantly, a boy—publicly, they will start talking. You know how the media make grand stories from two anonymously sourced, out of context quotes and a grainy picture from 100 feet away. 

What you don’t know is if you would or even could handle the public speculation that came with that. 

You don't want the media to come between you and your education. You don’t want to be at the center of attention. You worked way too hard to get where you are to have it washed away with a shitty ‘Prince Jungkook's college fling’ article that holds headlines for less than a week before the news cycle changes. 

Your credibility would be gone in an instant. And you’d only ever be remembered as ‘that girl the prince probably slept with in college.’

You should say no.

You’re going to say no.

—Wait.

Are you even allowed to say no?

Your phone pings again.

PJK [12:24pm]: i really just want my university experience to be as normal as possible before having to trade it all in for a crown and kingdom. It’s my last shot to experience life as a person before becoming a symbol and im hoping youll be kind enough to help me with that  PJK [12:24pm]: but i understand if you dont want to. Like i said in my speech, im not unaware of the repercussions of my celebrity, and its effects on others, both positive and negative. So please by all means, whatever answer you give, i’ll understand

Shit.

Shit!

Now you’ll feel like an ass if you say no, and you know that wasn’t his intention with the message, but you can't help it. He just wants to be as ordinary as he can be for a while. That isn’t a lot to ask—of anybody. 

After re-reading his messages about a dozen more times, you find your entire view of Jungkook shifting in an instant. 

Maybe he was the spoiled, rich, and plate delivered opportunities prince you expected him to be, but funnily enough, somewhere along the way it was you who forgot that he was an regular person. Just like you had told Yuri such a short time ago, and just like you now had to remind yourself. 

Jungkook’s really not much different than someone without all the special features his title brings him.

And with that in mind, you know your reply.

You [12:30pm]: can i think about it?

And not seconds later.

PJK [12:30pm]: absolutely.

A breath you didn’t know you were holding releases.

PJK [12:31pm]: that’s already further than i thought i’d get—if we’re still being honest. 

You [12:33pm]: im always honest, you dont have to worry about that. And same goes for you, dont worry about being truthful with me. Lies only create problems, and i dont have the time for them

PJK [12:35]: glad to hear it. I look forward to your answer, whenever and whatever you decide

Gently tossing your phone back onto your bed, you leave the conversation at that. You know you wouldn’t be able to make your mind up without going through all possible outcomes in your head first. And Yuri is usually a good enough listener to pipe in with decent advice now and then. 

So, for now, you pick up your pencil and sketch pad, and wait for Yuri to return from her afternoon class. 

A few hours later, and a decent way through your third life study, Yuri bursts through the front entryway. Your bedroom door’s open, and you’ve got a clear view of her shucking off her shoes and outer layers after casting her books onto the dining room table. 

So much for your focus. 

But you're glad she’s back, your conversation with Jungkook from earlier is still wracking your brain.

“YN, Sweets! You are NEVER going to believe the day I’ve had!” Yuri makes her way over to your bed, inhaling deeply enough you know a monologue is about to follow.

“Me too! But you first,” you slip in before the floodgates burst, knowing all her focus will be solely centered on you the second you mention Jungkook reaching out. 

“Jungkook invited me to lunch!” 

Or maybe not.

“Well sort of, that’s why I’m late getting back. He asked if there was a more secluded place to eat on campus,” she says the word like it’s a secret. Like she thinks he asked for seclusion to have it be a more intimate setting with her, versus a more private space for him. 

“So I showed him that little cafe behind the greenhouse that no one ever goes to cuz it’s too far away from central campus—you know the one that might as well just be a part of the greenhouse cuz of how close it is?” 

You nod. You were very familiar with that cafe, frequently going there to paint the flowers in the windows, and also, to think. But she doesn’t know that. It was sort of a safe haven for you, because like she said, it wasn’t a very popular place on campus, so it was quiet. 

You didn’t know Yuri even knew about it. 

Now sitting criss-crossed on the end of your bed, she continues, “Yeah, so I brought him there and we both got coffee, then I got a croissant and he got a sandwich. But YN, get this: we take. our coffee. the. same. way. Try and tell me we’re not made for one another now! Same major, same coffee, next thing you know we’ll be finding out we’d picked out the same baby names.” 

She stops to take a breath and you take your cue. “Woah there, Yurls, slow down a bit on that last one,” she makes a face at you. You ignore it. “But I think it’s great you're making a new friend that you have common interests with and are excited about,” you say, putting extra emphasis on ‘friend,’ thinking back to your conversation with Jungkook about people only ever wanting things he could give them. Surely you could subtly help your friend this way. “Just try to remember you have to be friends first before anything else happens.”

She doesn’t miss a beat. “Friends? YN please! We’re practically already dating, that’s three times in as many days he’s asked to hang out,” she closes her eyes, hugging herself. “I can almost hear the wedding bells.”

You look at her plainly and try your best not to sigh. 

She must know that this is just Jungkook taking her up on her offer, right? The one she made after seeing him off to the cafe by the biz-admin building the other day?

Before they parted ways, Yuri’d mentioned to him that if he wanted more inside knowledge or help getting around the campus he could ask her. And it made sense, having all their classes in the same area, when he said, ‘I’ll take you up on that.’

You know, because not unlike this conversation, she’d rushed home right after to tell you. 

Jungkook’s just trying to get his bearings in what is clearly still a very new experience for him and Yuri’s reading into it all wrong. 

You look at your friend who’s staring dreamily at nothing, more than likely caught up in whatever wedding scenarios of herself and Jungkook her brain is creating. 

Waving a fruitless hand in front of her face before snapping your fingers, you break her trance. “Helloooo? Earth to Yuri, come back down here please so I can talk some sense into youuuuu.” 

“I’m here,” she says, smacking your hand away playfully, gaze snapping to your less than amused one. Her smile falters at the sight. “What’s that look for?”

“Oh nothing, just that you sound like a delusional teenager instead of a functional adult at university pursuing a degree. You just met the guy three days ago and you’re already picturing your wedding together? Because you hung out over coffee twice and showed him where his classes are? He’s still a stranger, Yuri. Can’t you hear yourself?”

Her expression quickly changes to one of offense, and maybe even hurt. 

Perhaps you’d been a little too honest, but it’s not like this was new for you two. Sometimes she needed a swift blow to knock her down and she knows this, she knows you’d never intend to hurt her feelings. You always wanted what was best for her, and you know she feels the exact same way for you. 

So you’re shocked when she says, “You know you don’t have to be such a bitch about it if you’re going to be jealous,” crossing her arms defensively.

Jealous? You are anything but jealous, and you wonder why that’s where her mind jumps to first, brows scrunching in confusion.

“I’m not jealous. Have you forgotten about Nel? Boyfriend of five years, highschool sweetheart, ringing a bell?”

“Nel’s not a prince YN,” she counters in a tone so even, it’s unsettling. “And it wouldn’t be so unheard of for a woman in a relationship to be jealous of her friend who’s in one with a prince she wants for herself.” 

Oh, so that’s where she wants to go with this. She thinks that Jungkook will somehow make you forget about the five wonderful years with Nel. Like half a decade measures up to nothing if it means getting someone with a better name and a bigger paycheck. 

Fine.

If she wants to get bitchy about it, so will you. 

“Yeah, well it’s a good thing you’re not dating one then, isn’t it? Don’t get so defensive when all I’m doing is trying to help you see that.”

Yuri stands dramatically from the bed, clearly pissed, and storms out of your room, grabbing her things from the dining room table.

“I’m going to my macroeconomics class. By the time I get back, either have your door closed, or don’t be here.”

She leaves as rushed as she came, and you try not to flinch at the front door slamming shut, but do anyway. 

You shove your work off to the side, bringing your knees up to rest your elbows on while the palms of your hands cover your eyes, giving yourself a moment to breathe and process. 

This isn’t the first time this has happened and it certainly won't be the last. It was a downside between your personalities. You were the anchor who kept her from soaring too high in the clouds, just like she was the helium that kept you from drowning. 

But sometimes she wanted to see the stars, and sometimes you were scared of the surface. 

Releasing a deep breath, you decide to head out, having finished school for the day anyway. You only had morning classes on Wednesdays—an intentional scheduling on your behalf to have somewhat of a break midweek. You work hard but also know that burnout can kill.

Switching out your pencils for watercolour paint trays, and your sketchpad for your watercolour paper, you decide that the greenhouse sounded great right about now, especially now that you knew Yuri wouldn’t be there. 

There isn’t a better place for you to go and blow off some steam. 

Tossing your brushes, materials, travel water and wallet in a tote, you slide on your shoes and leave the dorm. The door closes much quieter this time. 

Chapter Three: Greenhouse Muses and Surprise Guests

A/N 2: I’m pretty sure this is the shortest chapter in the series (so far) but as you’ve read it’s an important step so I hope that’s okay!

<- Back

#jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook #jungkook au #jungkook college au #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook #jeon jeongguk #bts #bts imagine #bts fic #jungkook scenario #bts smut #bts x reader #bts x you #bts au #bts fanfic #TWWWBAATTA #unknown numbers and sharp tongues #yoon writes

[chaithetics]

yes yes yes i wanna see the barbie fic!!! i know im gonna love itttt -barbie anon

Porcelain and the Shark: Barbie Hosseinis

Pairing: Stewy Hosseini x f (Roy) reader

(reader has anxiety, no use of y/n, physical descriptions or other names but does have the nickname Porcelain/Porce - due to family viewing her that way not because of complexion)

Word count: 2.6K

Prompt: porce forcing stewy to take the day off to take her and the kids to see barbie… he buys the kids a new barbie toy each and buys porce some cute barbie merch… porce relates to barbie’s existential crisis…. and gets just a touch sad at the parts about mothers and their daughters… stew cheers her up by reminding her that she’s an incredible mom to the kids and she goes and sees oppenheimer with him the next day as a thank you. that’s all xo 🫶

Chapter/content warning: 18+ MINORS DNI, established relationship, wholesome fluff, existential crisis mention, some not great Roy dynamics are alluded to. Not beta read sorry!

Authors note: thank you so much for sending this through Nonnie and your patience, you're an angel! i really hope you enjoy this, please let me know what you think! There's a slight change, I actually don't think Stewy would be super into Oppenheimer for a few different reasons. I hope that's okay?! I hope you all enjoy this, I am sorry for the absence lately, enjoy and let me know what you think, I love engaging with you all via comments, reblogs, and asks! Live for them! Lots of love to all you tumblr hotties (you're all hotties) let's pretend the gif is a barbie reference lol.

********

You’re kneeling on the floor in Tillie’s room as you help your young daughter change into her outfit. It was cute but you hadn’t expected it to be so complicated to put on. Mainly because Tillie was so excited, wriggling and bouncing as she chatted, she couldn’t stay still for very long. After a couple of minutes you’d been able to finish up her outfit and kissed the top of her head as you finished putting her hair in the neat bun she’d asked for to match her new but beloved doll sitting next to her.

“Wow! You look amazing and you’re both matching! How cool!” You excitedly say to Tillie who giggles and nods.

“We’re both ready for space now!” Tillie exclaims as she grabs her astronaut Barbie doll.

“You can play with your toys now that you’re dressed, practice for space. I’m going to check on dad and Jonathan now, okay sweetie?” You place another kiss on top of her head and she nods, happily focusing on her toys again. It makes you chuckle how quickly she goes back to playing now that your interruption of dressing her is over.

You start to walk towards Jonathan’s room but pause when you hear Stewy’s voice coming from his home office, you think it’s odd that he’s in there as this was a day that he was meant to be completely offline from work and just for family. Changing the route to Jonathan’s room you walk to his office until you’re leaning against the door watching him. Stewy’s pacing back and fourth in his office as he continues his call with an earphone in. He looks at you and with a small smile before taking a sip from his morning cappuccino in a ridiculously tiny cup as he hums along to whatever is being said on the opposite end of the phone.

“Uh-huh, yeah, well yeah, we’ll just need to circle back to that later. Uh-huh, I’ve gotta go. Mmm, yeah, sure, bye.” He quickly ends the call, removing the earphone and placing it on his desk before turning to look at you as he carefully places his coffee cup down on the desk.

“You’re not in pink-” You start.

“Neither are you.” Stewy immediately quips back with a small teasing smile as he looks you up and down adoringly.

“Well no, I haven’t changed yet. I was getting the kids ready.”

“Okay, go get ready I’ll finish up whatever needs finishing up and then you can head out.” He says as he comes over giving you a kiss on the forehead.

“We head out.” You correct, emphasising the word as you’re already not a fan of the direction this was headed in.

“Honey…” Stewy says with a sigh and it’s clear that something has come up, he needs to cancel. The guilt is written all over his face like a ghost came up and tattooed it on as soon as you walked into the office.

“You promised.” You say rather bluntly. The work-life balance is important to you and after experiencing all that your childhood had to offer in terms of swinging between sheltered neglect and highly-criticised surveillance. You refuse the notion of having your children growing up without a father or experiencing the wonder and insult of what it’s like to have a father miss out on what’s meant to be memorable and special family days. You know Stewy isn’t like that, he’s just busy and he’s always there but you still can’t help but take it personally.

It almost feels like a childhood defense and you feel your lip quiver a little as you look at him, knowing he had promised this and now he was going to break the promise to you and your children.

“I know baby, but something’s come up at work and-” He continues with wide eyes, trying to diffuse the situation as he can see how upset it’s making you.

“I’m not happy about… I’m not happy about this Stew.” You admit quietly as you look down while leaning against the wall more.

“I know. I know. I’ll make it up to you and the kids, we’ll do something later on. I’ll buy them some more toys.” “You’re not becoming that father who uses money and presents to make it up to children.” You say softly.

“I won’t do that.” He chuckles and comes over to you and wraps his arms around you softly. “I love you and you’re so pretty, you know that right?” He presses a few soft kisses to your jaw and neck.

“You’ve said it before…” You whisper back, as he holds you in his arms.

“Mm… Good. I just wanted to remind you.” He whispers against your neck and you feel his breath and words tickle your neck.

“If you’re not coming, you’re the one who needs to break that news to their cute faces and you do owe them. And me.” You can’t help but sigh in his arms as you relax into him, finding comfort in his presence as you always do despite how you’re annoyed with him over this.

Stewy nods as he listens to your words, and caresses your back gently. “I’ll try…” He whispers, you know it’s less likely that he’ll actually end up working through the day and bailing on the much anticipated Hosseini family event of seeing the Barbie film with your young children.

Tillie then calls out for you and Stewy, you smile at him, squeezing his hand and walking with him, hand-in-hand into Tillie’s bedroom. Tillie jumps up when she sees her dearly loved parents walk into her bedroom and runs over with her doll. Some children had dinosaur phases, or princess phases but Tillie was one of those children who became obsessed with space as soon as her eyes could take in the moon and what it was. She had an astronaut Barbie in her hand which had become one of her most prized possessions since Stewy had recently brought it for her. It was in her hand at every playtime, bedtime, and seated next to her at each meal.

As Tillie jumps up to hug her parents, it is then that Stewy sees her outfit in full… Tillie is wearing an astronaut costume in pink. One that you’d spent a lot of time trying to find the right person to commission it and they had excelled. She was a cute little astronaut just as she wanted to be and it was perfectly in theme with the Barbie film that she was excited to see as well.

She ran over to her father and Stewy quickly picked her up, you could see his heart melting as he took in the sight of his precious daughter in her outfit, she looked adorable and Stewy loved how she was so young but already had dreams that were so out of this world.

Stewy swayed slightly while holding Matilda, he kissed the top of her head and smiled widely at her.

“Oh my God, look at you… this outfit is amazing….” Stewy said to Tillie with a smile. He pressed another kiss to her head and held her a bit tighter as he kept swaying with her. “Oh my…. Look at her! Look at her!” He said with the largest, most loving eyes to you and you couldn’t help but smile widely and nod. She was always cute and precious but this was an exceptionally cute look of Matilda’s. You also always appreciated seeing this moment between Stewy and Tillie, he was so in awe of her and she was in equal awe of her father as well. A polar opposite to what you and Shiv had known but it was what you wanted for your children, it was what every child deserved.

“How could you say no to that cutie, Stewy? You tease playfully, already seeing him mentally cave by her.

“I can’t… I can’t… I’ll make a call and then we’ll see Barbie, huh?” He says to Tillie and gives her a little nose bop which makes her giggle loudly and excitedly.

“Go change, dad Ken, not work Ken!” Tillie says with another giggle as she tries to boop her father on the nose in return. Stewy smirks and nods, kissing her forehead again as he swings her gently with a smile.

“What am I going to wear though? I need some pink, huh honey?” He asks Tillie and she smiles and nods.

“I brought you a pink turtleneck, it’s out in the room honey.” You say softly with a happy smile as you look at him, you couldn’t resist the chance to get him in theme and you always had a weak spot for Stewy in a turtleneck so this was just as much a treat for your family as it was for you. All just for different reasons.

“You’re a prize, babe. Thank you. Isn’t your mommy the best? I mean look at you and soon look at me and I’ll be just as cute huh?” Stewy kisses Tillie’s cheek and then puts her down and gives you a soft, loving, grateful kiss on the lips to say thank you for organizing that.

Stewy goes off to change and he looks so handsome in his pink turtleneck, you feel your cheeks immediately heat up as he comes back out. He kisses your cheek and whispers a sweet thank you.

************************

You, Stewy and your little Hosseinis all watch Barbie, everybody dressed up in theme in pink and looking like charming Barbies, Kens, and Allens. The children are all thoroughly engaged in the film and its bright visuals, there’s plenty of humor as well that’s sneaked in to appeal to adults which gets genuine laughs from you and Stewy.

You’re not quite surprised but you struggle for a moment as you feel quite touched, sensitive and yet vulnerable throughout several scenes of the film. This concept of identity, and having an identity that is separate from the men in your life, along with one that is separate to your identities as a wife, a mother, a sister, and a daughter. You can’t help but get teary at many of these scenes and think about what something like this means for your children, especially sweet Tillie, and the relationship between mothers and daughters. You love Tillie with all of your being, is that enough you wonder? It certainly wasn’t with your parents but that wasn’t the right love and you know it’s different with your children, you don’t let the thoughts in that your parents probably felt the same at some stage in. You’re already getting teary-eyed in this film, surrounded by those dearest to you, you don’t think you can quite handle an existential crisis right now.

Stewy notices your eyes becoming glassy with tears during these scenes and he snuggles a bit closer to you, pulling you into him more to gently kiss your cheek and squeeze your shoulder and hand. He caresses your arm gently from the first scene that brings you to tears and then throughout the rest of the picture.

“Hey, you’re a great parent… They love you more than anything, I’m in awe of you. You’re such a great mom.” Stewy promises as he whispers into your ear. You smile at him and tilt your head to kiss him softly on the lips.

*******

The children loved the film and it was a great family day that didn’t end in terms of quality time right after the movie finished. The children were all now tucked in bed and you were lying in bed now and Stewy had just finished brushing his teeth and was coming to lie in bed.

“Hi.” He whispered as he laid on the bed and looked up at you.

“Hey.” You smile back at him and can’t help but feel your cheeks heats up again, you loved him in the pink turtleneck but you also loved him out of it and any tops, just as much.

“And thoughts on the film that made all the men so angry?” He asks.

“I mean, it was a bit gentle on men, huh?” You say as you tilt your head to look at him.

“Uh-huh, far too gentle. It should’ve challenged my masculinity more than it did.” He says softly as he kisses your cheek and then your jaw gently with a smirk. “Ken did kinda feel like that incel-pipeline justification, right?” He says as he pulls away and looks at your face, Stewy starts to caress your arm gently as he leans back on the pillows.

You nod and smile. “Exactly! And you picked that up!” He chuckles at that and his cheeks heat up a bit as he continues to caress your forearm. “It still had some good stuff in it, Tillie really enjoyed it, ‘Yay space!’ Is going to be a new catchphrase for a while.” You say with a smile as you gently caress his cheek in return and giggle a little at the thought. That line alone and the acknowledgement of a Barbie in space was more than enough to make the day for Tillie and seal it as a classic for her.

“Astronaut Barbie was my favorite. Tillie and I have that in common now.” He says playfully and you can’t help but chuckle some more at that.

Stewy then leans back to grab his phone to do something that his mind has just thought of, you can’t help but feel curious.

“What are you doing?” You as with a smirk.

“I’m going to get one of those ‘I’m Kenough’ hoodies delivered to Kendall’s.” He says with a smirk as he taps away at his phone. You can’t help but laugh.

“That’s so thoughtful of you, he definitely needs it.” You laugh.

“Exactly, he really does.” Stewy says playfully, he finishes up, showing you an order confirmation email and then puts his phone down and kisses you softly on the lips.

“Since you’ve seen Barbie, does that mean I have to be your date to Oppenheimer now?” You ask as you look up at him. Stewy immediately scoffs and then laughs.

“No!” He laughs.

“No?” You ask with a small chuckle.

“I’m a dad, I’ve been exposed to the magic and art of Barbie and Bluey, why would I need to see Oppenheimer? Also it’s three hours long? It’s not for children, why would I go through those three hours?” He asks.

You smile and nod as you caress his cheek. “Very good points.” You whisper.

“How boring and convoluted must a film be to be three hours long? And if I have that much time for something shouldn’t I spend it with you and our angels?” You can’t help but smile widely at that.

“Isn’t it mandatory bro viewing now? What on earth will you talk about in the office on Monday?” You ask playfully before kissing him softly on the lips.

“I won’t watch a film because of peer pressure, if I felt insecure, I’d just read the Wikipedia plot and honey, I don’t get insecure.” He says proudly right before leaning over, closer to you in order to kiss your lips. The kiss starts off soft at first but Stewy quickly deepens it, he playfully nibbles on your lip as the kiss deepens on both your ends and Stewy steals a moan from your lips as you run your hands through his hair.

#stewy hosseini #succession #chaitheticsasks #stewy hosseini x reader #stewy hosseini x roy reader #stewy hosseini x roy!reader #porcelain and the shark #requests #hbo succession #arian moayed #stewy hosseini x f reader #stewy hosseini x f roy reader #stewy hosseini x you #stewy hosseini x porcelain #stewy hosseini x porce #porcelain and the shark asks #porcelain and the shark headcannons #porce and the shark #succession fanfic #succession fic #succession fanfiction #arian moayed fanfic #arian moayed fanfiction #arian moayed characters #barbie movie #barbie 2023 #the barbie movie #barbie fanfic #barbie fic #barbie movie fanfic

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

North To The Future [Chapter 1: Building A Mystery]

The year is 1999. You are just beginning your veterinary practice in Juneau, Alaska. Aegon is a mysterious, troubled newcomer to town. You kind of hate him. You are also kind of obsessed with him. Falling for him might legitimately ruin your life...but can you help it? Oh, and there’s a serial killer on the loose known only as the Ice Fisher.

A/N: This is a work of au fiction utilizing characters from HBO’s House Of The Dragon series. It will have humor, drama, angst, danger, bears, bars, boats, boy bands, blizzards, dogs, 90s nostalgia, and lots more!

Chapter warnings: Language, lowkey sexual tension, alcoholism (obvi), poor life choices, minor injury to an animal but he’s totally fine.

Word count: 3.4k.

Link to chapter list (and all my writing): HERE.

*** I’m going to tag like a bazillion people since this is the first chapter of a new fic, but I WILL NOT TAG YOU AGAIN unless you ask me to. I hope you are all doing well, wherever you are in the world. 🥰😘 ***

@aemcndtargaryen​ @crispmarshmallow​ @tclegane​ @daddysfavoritesexkitten​ @poohxlove​ @imagine-all-the-imagines​ @nsainmoonchild​ @skythighs​ @bratfleck​ @thesadvampire​ @yor72​ @xcharlottemikaelsonx​ @loverandqueenofdragons​ @omgsuperstarg​ @endless-ineffabilities​ @devynsshitposts​ @vencuyot​ @ladylannisterxo​ @cranberryjulce​ @abcdefghi-lmnopqrstuvwxyz​ @liathelioness​ @mirandastuckinthe80s​ @haezen​ @fairaardirascenarios​ @darkened-writer​ @weepingfashionwritingplaid​ @signyvenetia​ @crossingallmine​ @burningcoffeetimetravel​ @yummycastiel​ @lol-im-done​ @lovemissyhoneybee​ @nomugglesallowed​ @witchmoon​ @yoshiplushie​ @torchbearerkyle​ @sweetashoneyhoney​ @quartzs-posts​ @lauraneedstochill​ @nctma15​ @queenofshinigamis​ @rapoficeandfire​ @hinata7346​ @curiouser-and-curiouser-fics​ @meadowofsinfulthoughts​ @imjustboredso​ @unabashedlyswimmingtimemachine​ @myspotofcraziness​ @bregarc​ @mikariell95​ @doingfondue​ @justconfusedperiod​ @mommyslittlewarcriminal​ @graykageyama​ @elsolario​

Please let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist! 💜

“He’s going to hit the mailbox,” Jennifer says. She’s peering out of the window with her hands cupped around her eyes like goggles. “He’s going to hit it…he’s going to hit it…” There is a snapping sound, a crunch, squealing brakes. “Mailbox down.”

It’s mid-November and nearly 4:00 p.m., so it’s pitch black outside except for the dim, sepia luminescence of streetlights. Blazing high-beams skate across the window. Jen steps back, blinking.

“Who is it?” you ask.

“I don’t know. Some guy in a green Nova.”

A Chevy Nova? Front-wheel drive? Not advisable. Almost everyone here has an SUV…or, better yet, a pickup truck. Outside, the high-beams die and a car door slams. Five seconds later, he bursts into the lobby carrying a massive golden retriever. There’s blood all over the dog’s head and chest, drying clumps snared in his fur; still, his tail is wagging. It starts wagging harder when he sees you.

“You’re a vet, right?” Nova guy asks frantically. He’s wearing a black turtleneck sweater, a red flannel shirt, light-wash Levi’s, and black Converses. Another bad choice; he should have boots. “I saw the sign outside.”

“I sure am.” You point him to the exam room. “Right this way.”

Nova guy staggers through the doorway and heaves the golden retriever up onto the high metal table. Jen follows you both into the exam room with a clipboard to record her notes. She is the all-purpose assistant and your sole employee. The veterinary clinic is otherwise empty; your last appointment—a routine and uneventful checkup of Mr. Sullivan’s cantankerous tomcat Biggie Smalls—ended twenty minutes ago. You begin to evaluate the golden retriever. He has a laceration on his muzzle, but seems otherwise unharmed. His tail is still wagging. Head wounds bleed a lot and can thus incite disproportionate panic. Oftentimes, they aren’t half as bad as they look.

“You can fix him, right?” Nova guy pleads. There’s a streak of tacky crimson blood on his cheek, you notice now. “A bear got him. Clawed him, I think. I let him outside when I got off work, and next thing I knew I turned around and he was chasing off a bear. A goddamn bear. Like a huge bear. A Smokey Bear bear.”

“Yes,” you say, amused. “We have bears here.” Then you add: “Your dog is going to be just fine.”

“Oh, thank God,” Nova guy exhales, clutching his chest. You numb the golden retriever’s muzzle with lidocaine and begin disinfecting the wound with povidone-iodine solution.

“What’s his name?” Jen asks. She is busily jotting down notes.

“Sunfyre.”

Jen pauses, pen hovering in mid-air. “Sun…fire…?”

“Sunfyre,” Nova guy repeats irritably. “One word. With a Y.”

“…Where is the Y…?”

“In fire.”

Jen frowns down at her form as she fills in the letters. “Why would you spell fire with a Y?”

“To make him more awesome, obviously,” Nova guy murmurs. He leans down to rub the golden retriever’s shaggy ears and wobbles as he does. Sunfyre’s tail thumps on the exam table. “You’re gonna be okay, buddy. Yes you are. You’re gonna be just fine, the nice vet lady says so.”

You catch a whiff of him, dark bitterness and sweetness and spice: rum, a lot of rum. “Did you drive here drunk?”

He narrows his eyes at you. They’re bleary and royal blue. “Maybe.”

“It’s like 4 p.m. on a Monday, why are you drunk right now?”

“I’m sorry, are you a people doctor? Because I thought I came here so you could fix my fucking dog.”

“He’s getting fixed,” you assure the man calmly. You’re accustomed to dealing with rather unhinged pet owners. To some people, animals are like children; and you wouldn’t expect someone to act rational if their kid was lying here bloodied from a bear attack, would you?

“How old is he?” Jen asks.

“I don’t know, like, young?”

“About five,” you say, checking Sunfyre’s teeth. Then you begin suturing. Nova guy moves to pet the dog’s side to give you more room to work; Sunfyre is so relaxed he’s nearly dozing. “Has he had his rabies shots?”

“Yeah, he’s had them, he…” The man pats his jeans pockets. “Oh shit, I mean I don’t have the paperwork with me or anything, but I know he’s good because he got vaccinations in San Francisco and that’s the last place we were. Less than a year ago. Like eight months tops.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Are you sure? Because this is important.”

“Look lady, I don’t even know if I’m up to date on my shots, but I know for a fact he is.”

“Okay,” you concede.

“What’s your name, sir?” Jen asks Nova guy, relieved in anticipation of a nice simple human answer: Jason, Michael, Daniel, Brian, Steven.

“Aegon,” he says.

“…Aegon?!”

He glares at Jen with a dreadful sort of resignation, as if he’s repeated this moment a thousand times in a thousand different universes. “It’s Greek.”

“You don’t look Greek.”

“You don’t look like a genealogist.”

Jen recoils and continues her notes. She has a point: Nova guy—Aegon, you mentally amend—has pale sunless skin, dark semi-circles under his eyes, hair so light a blond it’s nearly pure white. Jen begins her next question tentatively, like she’s afraid to ask. “Last name?”

“Targaryen.” And then he adds: “Also Greek.”

She stares at him. “Tar…?”

He sighs. “T-A-R-G…”

As they go back and forth—again, Jen is baffled by the placement of a Y—you instinctively glance up at the flier on the wall. The police have plastered them across every business in town: Report suspicious activity immediately! Beware of strangers! Help keep Juneau safe! The words are bright red beneath the sketch of a menacing, scarlet-eyed specter in a trench coat. The first body was found almost exactly a month ago. The second was found two weeks after that. You and Aegon catch each other looking at the flier and then pretend you didn’t.

You finish stitching and give the golden retriever an encouraging pat on the head. His tail thuds rhythmically against the table. “Alright, Sunfyre is good to go. I’d like him to stay one night so I can put him on an IV just in case. And he’ll have to wear a cone until his stitches come out. Your total is $300.”

“$300?!” Aegon exclaims. “What are you gonna put in the IV, cocaine?!”

“Antibiotics,” you say. “And they had to be shipped in from Seattle.”

“Jesus Christ. Okay, Pablo Escobar, hold on, hold on…” He pulls crumpled dollar bills out of his tattered leather wallet. “I’ve got…fifteen…uh…sixteen…” He starts counting quarters.

“Jen can write you up a bill,” you offer.

“Oh, yeah. Great.” He replaces his cash with palpable relief. “I can pick him up tomorrow?”

“Anytime after noon.”

“Cool.” He plants a loud smacking kiss on the crown of Sunfyre’s head. “I’ll see you soon, buddy.” Then he lurches out into the lobby. You tell Jen to put Sunfyre in one of the kennels and bolt after him.

“You can’t drive home like this,” you tell Aegon, horrified.

He whirls. “…Why?”

“Uh, because you’re drunk?!”

He drums his palms against the front door and groans dramatically. “I’m not gonna hit anybody. There are like six people in this whole town, I live ten minutes away, what’s gonna happen?”

“You can’t drive home,” you insist.

“I’ll go super slowly.”

“Don’t make me take your keys. I’ll do it.”

He throws up his hands, exasperated. “Fine. I’ll walk.

“It’s dark, it’s 30 degrees outside, you’re not even wearing a coat. You could get lost and freeze to death. Or eaten by a bear.” Or murdered by the Ice Fisher.

“Lady, what do you want from me?!”

You grab your parka off the coatrack. “I’ll drive you.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously. Jen can watch Sunfyre and I’ll start his IV when I get back.”

Aegon considers this, considers you. He’s not suspicious; he’s more…how can you describe it? Caught off-guard. Out of practice. “Okay,” he says finally. “Oh. Also.” He scratches his chin, avoiding your eyes. “I think I ran over your mailbox.”

“That’s fine. My dad will fix it.”

“Your dad?”

“Yeah, he lives next door. He’s recently retired and always looking for new projects. You might have done him a favor, actually. Saved him from a night of Dateline and Buffy The Vampire Slayer.”

Slowly, cautiously, Aegon smiles. “Happy to help, I guess.”

Your Jeep Cherokee is brand new. It has grey upholstered seats, cupholders, a Starfleet Academy bumper sticker, and automatic windows. The license plate is blue and embossed with Alaska’s state motto: North To The Future. There’s a Sarah McLachlan tape in the cassette player. Heat blasts through the vents; Building A Mystery tumbles out of the speakers. Aegon tells you that he’s renting a place downtown near the harbor and gives you vague, generally unhelpful directions. You listen as he speaks, of course, but you study him too, as much as you dare to without being too obvious, stealing rapid-fire glimpses. He talks with his hands a lot: clasps them together, touches his face, gestures lethargically, runs his fingers through his hair. There’s a lock that keeps escaping from behind his ear to rest on his right cheek, the one with the bloodstain. You have this strange compulsion to tuck it back into place.

“Cupholders,” Aegon remarks as you pull out of the small gravel parking lot, banging his fist on them. He has a British accent, but it’s diluted somewhat, understated. “Nice.”

“Yeah. I hate to tell you this, but the Nova was a really bad idea. You’re going to be snowed in half the winter.”

“Fantastic,” he quips. “I just bought the cheapest thing I could find when I got here.”

You peek over at him. Streetlights illuminate the bruise-like shadows under his eyes, the height of his cheekbones. “Your people don’t usually stick around this late in the year. Tourist season is over.”

“I’m not a tourist,” Aegon replies with a crooked grin, and does not elaborate. And then, when your Jeep rolls to a stop outside his apartment building: “Look, I know this is super random and all, but…like…” He stalls. “Can I get you some hot chocolate or something? I happen to be an aficionado of truly exceptional hot chocolate.”

“Oh, really? Homemade?”

“Swiss Miss,” he says. “But I have a secret ingredient.”

“I’m really not interested in getting roofied this evening.”

He laughs. “The secret ingredient is not roofies. It’s French vanilla coffee creamer.”

You hesitate. The words from the flier blare in your skull like a neon sign: Beware of strangers! Help keep Juneau safe! “I really shouldn’t.”

“I’m not gonna murder you,” Aegon says with probably too much bluntness. He starts turning out all his pockets. “You can search me, I got nothing on me except my wallet and keys. I just…well…” He smirks guiltily. He is sobering up. “I feel like I made a really bad first impression.”

“You definitely did.”

“And I want to make up for that because you helped my dog and everything. And now you’re helping me. And I just don’t want you to think I’m a horrible person.”

“Are you?”

“What, a horrible person?”

“Yeah.” You’re only half-joking.

Aegon doesn’t appear to be joking at all. “I think I’ll let you figure that out for yourself.”

You should go back to work. You should definitely go back to work. You should definitely not follow this weird drunk man up to his apartment. “Okay, but I can’t stay long. And I’ll ask you to remember that Jen has your full and highly unusual name and is more than capable of telling the cops that you’re the last person I was seen alive with. So it is in your best interests not to murder me.”

“Deal,” he says, and scrambles clumsily out of the Jeep.

Aegon’s apartment isn’t even a one-bedroom; it’s a studio with a couch and tv at one end, a bed at the other end by the windows, and a practically microscopic kitchen. As he bangs around in the cabinets locating a pot and two mugs, you admire his collection of refrigerator magnets. They represent a kaleidoscope of American cities: a dolphin from San Diego, the Golden Gate Bridge from San Francisco, a blue crab from Baltimore, a boiled lobster from Portland, a gold nugget from Denver, a cowboy on horseback from Dallas, the Sears Tower from Chicago, a cactus from Phoenix, a pair of dice suspended in glittery pink liquid from Las Vegas, many more.

“You’ve been to all these places?” you ask, awed in spite of your explicit intention not to be.

“Yeah. I found Sunfyre in Phoenix. That was three cities ago.”

“Found him?”

“Wandering emaciated and terrified on the side of a highway.” He’s stirring the pot over a red-hot electric burner. On the counter wait two mismatched mugs: the blue one is bigger, but the green one is more opulent, gilded with tiny gold stars. “You ever been outside of Alaska?”

“I got as far as Colorado for vet school.” Not far enough, you almost add. “How long have you been here?”

“Seven weeks. No. Eight.”

“So you’re the Ice Fisher.”

He tosses back his head and cackles wildly. “You are not the first person to think it, but you are the first to ask.” His smile dies and he looks at you directly, deadly serious. “No. I’m not the Ice Fisher.”

For some reason, you believe him. “Why Juneau?”

“Because it’s really, really far from Miami.”

“What’s in Miami?”

“Beaches. Bikinis.” You stare at him, waiting for further explanation. He stares back, offering none. He returns his attention to the hot chocolate. “I’m here for the winter trolling. Chinook salmon.”

“So only six months.”

He nods. “Only six months.”

“Where are you going next?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t decided yet. Maybe I’ll let Sunfyre pick. I’ll dip a bunch of travel postcards in peanut butter and see which one he eats first.”

“So you just bounce around like that? Constantly? Perpetually?”

“Yeah.”

“It never gets lonely? You don’t miss anyone? Family, friends…?” A girlfriend? A wife? Five charming white-blond children?

“No,” he says flatly. He yanks open the refrigerator and pulls out a small glass bottle with a yellow label: 99 Whipped, Whipped Cream Liqueur, 49.5% ALC/VOL. He holds it up to show you, to offer it to you.

“No, I’m good, thanks though.”

“You sure? It’s whipped cream flavored.”

“I’m majorly sure.”

He unscrews the top with his teeth and takes a swig. Then he dumps the rest in the green mug. He flicks open a cabinet, produces a jar of French vanilla coffee creamer, and scoops a generous amount of the snowy powder into both mugs. He lifts the pot of hot chocolate from the stove and empties it into the mugs like molten metal into molds. He stirs the contents: separate spoons, oddly considerate. You move to take the blue mug, but Aegon stops you.

“Not quite yet,” he says. He rummages around in the refrigerator until he finds a can of whipped cream. He tops off both mugs with a fluffy white swirl. “One last thing…” He grabs a Hershey bar from the freezer and a flat metal cheese grater from a drawer. He leans over the mugs and—with startling, painstaking, somehow vulnerable care—shears just enough chocolate off the bar to dust the whipped cream with fine dark shavings. He passes you the blue mug and grins triumphantly. “You have to freeze the chocolate or it’ll melt when you try to grate it. A girl showed me how to do that.”

“Wow. You’re literally Martha Stewart.”

He is waiting for you to take a sip. You do. The hot chocolate is, in all honestly, ridiculously good: rich, creamy, smooth. He sees this on your face. “Told you.”

“Maybe you’re not so horrible.”

“Don’t be hasty. The roofies haven’t kicked in yet.”

You stand in the kitchen together drinking hot chocolate under dull, flaxen lights; Aegon doesn’t own a table or chairs. Your gaze roams around his apartment and settles on a jade green, extremely battered electric guitar propped against the wall by his bed. “Do you play?”

He turns to look. “Oh, that? No, no way.”

“Why do you have a guitar if you don’t play guitar?”

He grins, holding his mug with both hands. Steam curls up around his face like fog, like smoke. “Makes chicks think I’m more interesting than I am.”

“And yet you told me the truth,” you say. “You are really blowing this.”

“Yeah, that sounds like me.” He slurps his hot chocolate and licks the whipped cream off his lips. There is a deep, not entirely unpleasant silence that descends over the kitchen. Still, you feel compelled to break it.

“You seem to like green a lot.”

“I guess so.”

“Why? Because it’s the color of money…or trees…or Subway…or Heineken…or…?”

“Or…” He contemplates this for a while before he decides. “Camouflage.”

The silence reappears, less comfortable this time. “I really do need to go,” you tell him. It comes out like an apology, a regret. “Jen is supposed to get off work at 5:00 and I don’t want to make her stay too late.”

He replies with an unexpected question. “You ever go to Ursa Minor?”

Ursa Minor? The little bar beside the harbor? No, never. Your best friend Heather has been trying to cajole you into going—her brother Trent is always asking about you or something—but you have yet to succumb to her peer pressure. You aren’t really a bar girl. You’re a stay up half the night comforting sad animals girl. “Yeah, totally, sometimes. Why?”

Aegon smiles, a little dazedly, a little pleased. “No reason.”

All the way back to the veterinary clinic, your brains are wrangling with Aegon: everything about him, parts you wish you didn’t care enough to notice. When you enter the lobby—along with a gale of ice-cold wind peppered with snow flurries—an incredulous Jen is waiting for you.

“You drove him home? Alone?!” She jabs an index finger at the flier on the wall, one of so many. “While that lunatic is still out there somewhere?!” The cartoonish figure in the trench coat leers at you with red eyes. They call him the Ice Fisher because of what he does with the bodies. He goes out to Dredge Lake, drills a hole in the ice just wide enough for the shoulders to fit through, shoves his victim down into the frigid water to wait there in the dark and the cold until they are brought up. He leaves blood smeared on the ice. That’s how the police found the bodies, how they’ll keep finding them.

You shrug. “He needed a ride.”

“He needs an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting, that’s what he needs.”

You sigh loudly. “Thank you for your sage advice, Jennifer. You are free to go.”

“Yeah yeah. I’ll give the cops his name when you go missing. Tell them to look for the drunk white-haired loser with the Nova.”

More forcefully, you repeat: “Thank you, Jennifer.”

“Take a chill pill, I’m going.” She pulls on her parka and disappears out into the night. You stand in the lobby—in the silence, in the solitude—staring at the flier for a long time.

In one of the kennels, you find your lone current tenant. “Hey buddy,” you say to Sunfyre, using Aegon’s nickname for him, and the golden retriever perks up. You pet his silky fur (well cared for, you observe), ensure he has enough food and water, get him an extra blanket, and start an IV: antibiotics with a light sedative so he hopefully doesn’t manage to wriggle out of his cone. You’ll set a few alarms and get up throughout the night to check on Sunfyre…although your dad will almost certainly volunteer to do it for you. This clinic used to be his, after all.

Before you leave, you spend fifteen minutes sitting with Sunfyre: brushing his fur, humming to him, letting him lick your knuckles like wordless little thank you notes. Not for the first time in your life, you find yourself wishing that animals could speak as well as we do, could spill secrets like blood or falling snow.

“Interesting human you’ve got there,” you say.

Sunfyre, peering up at you with his trusting umber eyes, only wags his tail in reply.

#aegon ii targaryen #aegon targaryen #aegon ii #aegon x you #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x you #aegon targaryen ii #aegon x y/n #aegon x reader #hotd fanfic #hotd imagine

[sanccharine]

15:47 | mm

pairing: assassin!momo x handler!reader

summary: good speakers are good liars, too bad momo is neither. co-written by @eternallyghosting chapter summary: momo puts a man in his place

warning: use of guns sidenote: we don't know anything about guns,,,and we gave up on researching and being accurate, sorry ;-;

word count: 2.6k

a/n: as promised assassin!momo is here, also this connects to 15:34 (momo finds a gun). additionally, indigo wrote everything, i didn't do jackshit for this part, im just here to post and disappear like avatar aang

masterlist

You were seated on your recliner, taking advantage of the quiet in the house to read one of your all-time favorites, a copy of Metamorphoses you had treasured since you were a teenager, before the silence was disturbed by a beep on your phone.

As you hurried to put your book away, you frowned at your phone screen lit up with a notification from your shared calendar.

This Friday, 5-6 pm. Momo had not added anything more.

Figuring she must have woken from her nap if she was scheduling things, you called out to her.

Silence. Before you could say anything again, you were interrupted by another beep, signaling the change in the time slot from 6-7 pm.

And then another, shifting it back to 5 pm.

You sighed. What was going on?

Deciding you were done with your reading for the time being, you got up to carefully place your book back in its curated spot on your bookshelf before making your way upstairs.

You pushed open the door to your bedroom to find Momo fiddling on her phone in bed, the sheets tangled around her.

“Hey,” you leaned against the doorframe, “what’s this?”

“Hm?” she yawned.

Pointing to your own phone screen, you asked again. “What’s this Friday?”

“Oh!” Momo rubbed the sleep out of her eyes mid-sentence. “It’s for our shooting class.”

“Our what now?” Hearing Momo casually mention shooting came as a surprise to you, no matter the amount of hours you had spent in her earpiece discussing the exact same thing.

“Remember that gun we have in the back of our closet?”

How could you forget? For all its innocence and claims of self-defense, it was a thrilling reminder of what you both faced on the daily. Well, Momo did. Although you supposed sending her out there, day after day, knowing what she was getting herself into put you on the frontline as well. 

Yes, you had trained for this, and yes, you had signed the contract agreeing to be the permanent handler of Agent 64, but a hidden part of you would always put up a fight whenever a new mission file came along, wanting nothing more then to go back to when you were just Y/N and she was just Momo.

Seemingly unaware of your inner turmoil, Momo continued, “Well, I have a license, but I think you should also get some practice in. Just in case, you know?”

Just in case.

“A gun date!” You exclaimed, trying to make light of the situation. In all honesty, it had completely slipped your mind, what with unpacking and settling in as well as meeting all your neighbours who insisted on inviting you two over for meals.

She rolled her eyes. “Sure, yes, a gun date, if that makes you feel better.”

Nothing about this situation would, but you would take it. After all, it meant getting to spend more time with Momo. And despite everything you knew about her capabilities and renowned skills, you had yet to see her actually wield a weapon. This could be fun. You wondered if she would actually shoot as she had been trained to, or if she would fumble her shots on purpose. 

Her pride wouldn’t let her. You hid a smile as you thought about Momo at the range. Perhaps you would come up with something to bring out her competitive spirit. After all, you had to get your shots in too.

You nodded as you finally stepped into the room, moving closer to the bed. “So, Friday then?”

“Yep, I had emailed the closest range the very day we moved in, but they only just got back to me saying they could pencil us in for a slot.”

“Sounds good,” you hummed noncommittally, throwing yourself backward onto the bed. Momo did not seem like she would be getting out of bed anytime soon, and your sleep schedules were messy anyways. Dinner could wait.

Despite your previous reservations (and you wouldn’t say this out loud), you were actually excited to go to the range with Momo. 

It had been an easy week for the two of you; having no immediate missions meant Momo could stay around and help you organize the house. It had been weeks since you had moved in, but there was still so much to do. You and Momo had found an easy rhythm of working, wherein you would organize and dictate the layout of the house, while Momo helped build all your furniture. After all, I am good with my hands, she had smirked.

Although the session you had booked was at five, you had to leave much earlier. Curse this town and its lack of accessibility. Although, you mused, that was precisely why you had chosen to relocate here, so you couldn’t really complain. 

Momo had volunteered to drive, so you sat back and shuffled around the playlists on your phone as she pulled into the freeway with ease.

You wouldn’t say this out loud either, but you had been thinking of silly bets you could make with Momo to make the shooting session more fun.

“I’m pretty sure I’ll get like, eight bullseyes,” you began confidently.

She kept her eyes steady on the road, but you could see a smirk make its way across her face.

“Pshh, in your dreams.” Her fingers tightened imperceptibly on the steering wheel. Aha, so her competitive spirit had awoken.

“How about… ” you drifted off as if deep in thought, “loser does the dishes for two weeks?”

She shook her head. “Make it three and then it’s worthwhile.”

“How about laundry? Or gardening?” As you continued to think of new ways you could torture her with chores, she suddenly straightened in her seat.

“Loser goes out for dinner with Mr. Jones.”

You shuddered. “Ugh, I wouldn’t want to wish that on you, babe.”

Her smirk never left her face. “You seem pretty confident.”

“Oh, yeah! I told you already, how hard can it be?” You mimicked explosions again, only for Momo to swat your hand away. 

“Fine, if you’re so confident, then dinner with Mr. Jones it is,” she said resolutely.

“You’re on.”

Although Momo was a highly sought-after assassin, you were not one to back down from a challenge. Settling further into your leather seat, you spent the rest of the ride jokingly trash-talking her, thinking of gross food combinations that your elderly neighbour would probably have on his dinner table.

As Momo pulled up into the tiny parking lot attached to the gun range, you couldn't stop the restless shaking of your legs. You weren't really worried about handling a gun; despite not being in the field you were confident in your abilities and comfort with a gun. As strange as it sounds, you were nervous about seeing Momo wield one. 

Momo sensed your nerves and put a warm palm on your knee, her touch comforting. "Hey, it'll be fine. An instructor will be guiding us."

You managed a shaky smile as she continued, "and after all, it's for self defense, right?"

Right, self defense...

A strange look passed Momo as she said that, one you couldn’t decipher, though it disappeared when she nodded. 

Your instructor turned out to be a burly, unsmiling man who made no effort at conversation. You supposed that was just as well, you needed no distractions in the range. 

As he talked through the make of the gun, as well as its safety features, both you and Momo tried your hardest to act as if you were paying attention. Chancing a glance at her face, you could see her eyes trained only on the pistol in the instructor's hand. Not because she needed a reminder on how to load a bullet, but because she had already planned out an entire scenario in her head where she would have to face the opposition without having ready weapons. You could see it in the clench of her jaw, her unblinking eyes seemingly boring holes into the unsuspecting pistol.

You turned your attention back to what he was saying, only to catch the tail end of his sentence. "...and make sure you store it in a reclined postion."

Your eyes narrowed. You weren't supposed to store it that way. 

Although the instructor was in the wrong you decided to keep quiet and let him finish talking. Momo however, couldn't help herself. 

“Storing it that way increases the chances of the bullet getting stuck, potentially backfiring the weapon," she said sharply, her eyes never leaving the gun.

"Um, oh. Well…” 

"Do your research before you teach civilians how to fire guns." You winced at her harsh tone.

Although the man towered over the both of you in height, he seemed to shrink a couple inches upon Momo's rebuke, speechless at her interruption.

"Carry on," she waved a dismissive hand when he showed no signs of continuing his lecture.

"Right so um, let's move on to aiming," you tuned out again when you realised these were the extreme basics you'd learnt in your first few days at the academy. 

You let your thoughts wander to the period of your youth, undergoing grueling training in similar ranges with your friends. Only then it was a much more serious matter. You sighed. How had it already been so many years since you passed out of the system? Since you moved on and became a handler? Momo’s handler.

You came back to the present as Momo grabbed your arm, leading you to get fitted with a weapon. She seemed very in her element here, which you supposed wasn't too far off from her persona on the field. Although never having seen this in person before, you decided you liked this confident Momo.

Once you had both been fitted with guns, safety goggles, and ear plugs, your instructor led you over to an enclosed room. It was a long hallway, with narrow channels created by glass separations, and targets stuck onto the far wall. 

Momo gestured at you to make the first shot, smirking as she did so. Clearly she was enjoying this.

Despite the flutters in your stomach caused by her confident aura, you forced your eyes away from her as you steadied your hand.

Taking the all too familiar shooting stance, you took a deep breath and fired.

A clear hole could be seen on the ring marking a nine. It wasn’t bad, but you were better than this.

Momo raised an eyebrow at you. “Beginner’s luck?”

If only she knew.

You shrugged, signaling her to make the next shot. 

She took the same stance you had, the same pose holding the gun aloft, her eyes narrowed on the target the same way yours had. Then why did it look so much cooler?

The sound of a buzzer led to a temporary pause in your admiration of Momo. 

You glanced at the target. A bullseye. Of course.

Her cheekbones would surely hurt at night from all the smirking she had been doing. It seemed the smile never left her face as the two of you alternated between rounds. Your instructor, after observing you two for a few shots and coming to the fairly obvious conclusion that you wouldn’t do something stupid like shoot at the ceiling, had left you to your own devices and had wandered over to chat with the employee at the weapons station.

“Alright,” Momo clapped her hands once before extending it, “warmup’s over. Let’s begin the bet, shall we?”

“You’re on.” You solemnly shook her hand, not one to back down from the ridiculous dramatics of the bet.

As she reloaded her pistol, you stood still to take stock of the situation. You had purposefully fumbled a few shots during your warm-up so as to not make your wife suspicious, but could you really risk doing that when the stakes were having dinner with Mr. Jones?

No, you obviously could not.

You’d just have to pretend to be a fast learner. After all, Momo had first-hand observed how you took on new recipes and mastered skills after a few tries. It wouldn’t be too far off to say you were already good at target practice.

You reloaded your own gun and waited for Momo to go first this time, thinking you would continue to alternate shots as you had before. However, you were sorely mistaken.

If you thought Momo had been in her element during the warm-up, this was an all-new, evolved Momo. Her eyes never left the target as she swiftly reloaded her pistol after each shot, her hands a blur from the fast motions. She did not look to see if you were shooting, nor did she wait for you to catch up. She had ten bullets and she made ten bullseyes. The sound of the buzzer was a neverending cacophony of success.

Only after silence had once again settled in the room did she move away from the shooting platform, pushing her goggles up over her forehead.

“Pick your jaw up from the floor, babe, there might be flies around here.” She sauntered over to you, casually holding the gun loose between her slender fingers. 

Holy shit. How were you supposed to one up her now?

She must have sensed the resignation on your face, as she moved closer to pat you between your shoulder blades. 

“I’m sure dinner won’t be that bad,” she said with a teasing grin.

You rolled your eyes at her before focusing on the gun in your hand, steadying yourself once again before letting the bullets fly.

To your credit, you were really good. For someone who had not been active in the field for many years, you did not disappoint on your top-of-the-year status. However, Hirai Momo was simply better. Eight bullseyes and two 9s when you had briefly hesitated in the beginning could not compare to her perfect score. 

As you turned away from the sound of the buzzer and made your way over to her dejectedly, you were surprised to find a pair of arms encircling your shoulders. You looked up and found a gleam in her eyes. She was happy, not just from winning the bet, you realised, but because she was able to share a part of her daily life with you, even just for a few hours.

At that, the anxiety over the impending dinner plans faded away. This was what you had been wanting too. Sharing a home and a bed with her was absolutely perfect, but the joy at being able to share an aspect of her life while being civilians was more than you could have thought of. Before the embarrassment at this public display of affection could draw her away from you, you pressed a quick kiss to her cheek. 

That wasn’t good enough for Momo.

“You’re pretty good with a gun, you know,” Momo hummed out before she pressed a kiss to your lips. She pulled back just enough that your noses were still touching, her eyes wide and searching. 

“Like you said,” your voice was soft. “Beginner’s luck.”

“What if I take some food over to his house?”

“Absolutely not! You have to eat the dinner he makes.” 

The two of you bickered over the loopholes of the bet while returning your equipment, and all the way till you were back in the car.

As you fastened your seatbelt, you felt Momo gently touch your palm to get your attention.

She looked strangely nervous and didn’t fully meet your eye, “I just wanted to say, you did really well back there. Seriously.”

There was that strange emotion again. It wasn’t something you understood, but you had the urge to divert away. 

“Enough to get me out of dinner?” you asked cheekily.

She groaned. “Don’t start with this again!”

Her eyes softened as she fully turned to look at you. “I’m proud of you though.”

You mirrored her position on the seat as you smiled at her. “Self defense, am I right?”

“Yeah, self defense.”

any feedback is much appreciated.

a/n: ^shower indigo with love and praise otherwise i will fucking come for you, i am in your walls. okay, im done with threats now, have a good day/night everyone :]

taglist: @someone-who-likes-broccoli @happilychaengs

#a game of hide and seek #mala's collection #sanccharine #indigo's archive #eternallyghosting :] #momo x reader #twice x reader #momo fluff #jype twice #twice imagines #momo imagines

[builtbybrokenbells]

Spitfire | iv

After a month long battle with your first long distance relationship, you start to wonder if the turmoil of missing a rockstar is even worth it. In true Jake fashion, he makes you forget you ever felt that way to begin with.

Read part three here

Read part five here

Pairing: jake kiszka x f!reader

Word Count: 7.7k

Warnings: drinking, swearing, super sweet fluff, slight ldr angst, play fighting, annoying brothers, sorry if i miss any!

hi! i wrote this one super fast because im excited to get to the climax of this story. plus i just love jake and need to write about it to process my feelings. this chapter is pretty light and fluffy. no 18+ yet, but it is coming ;) as always, enjoy, be kind, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes!!

~

You walked off the stage, grad cap and diploma secured tightly in your hand. The main floor was a mess of bodies, making it impossible to find anybody you were looking for. You pushed through the mass of black gowns and proud parents, eyes desperately trying to locate someone with familiarity. After fighting your way to the back of the arena, you noticed a group of tall, slender figures who could be mistaken for the same people if caught in the right situation. You let out a sigh of relief, practically running towards them. When you reached them, you grabbed on to the closest arm. The boy spun around, confused at first, but his eyes lit up at the sight of you once he realized who you were.

“Hey, squirt!” Alex picked you up, spinning you around in a hug. You laughed, begging to be put back down almost instantaneously. “I’m so proud of you.” He said when your feet touched the ground again, his arms still holding you tightly. The rest of the group had begun to catch on to the situation. Within a moment, Sam had joined in on the hug, ushering your other two brothers to join, too. Your parents were laughing, tears threatening to spill from your mothers eyes. Eventually, your parents joined, too.

The group was full of laughter, arms all tangled together, making it hard to differentiate who’s belonged to who. Ally had taken it upon herself to snap a few quick pictures, finding the sight of the situation to precious to pass up. When you all broke apart, the air filled with notes of congratulations and your family telling you how proud they were of you. You breathed a thank you, barely being able to process the situation yet. You had your college degree in your hand; the last three years of torment and despair had ultimately paid off. Your eyes scanned the people around you, finally landing on your best friend. She had her phone propped up, pointing it outward towards the group as if she were on the phone with someone.

A smile began to eat away on your cheeks. You caught her gaze, silently asking her if she was chatting with who you thought she was. She gave a nod, motioning for you to come see for yourself. You pushed past your youngest brother, earning an annoyed look from him. You were too busy to care, only concerned with who she was talking to. When you reached her, sure turned her phone so you could see the screen. Jake, alongside his three band mates, were all crowded into the frame, watching the screen intently. When they saw your face, they exploded into cheers. You couldn’t stop the laughter flowing from you, amazed at how much love was coming your way that day. She smiled, handing you the phone. You took it, whispering a small thank you.

“We’re so proud of you!” Josh’s chipper tone filled the speaker. The background noise in the air would have made it hard to hear them, but they were always loud enough that it wasn’t even a concern in your mind.

“The witchy woman strikes again!” Sam belted, a grin plastered across his face.

“Your speech was fantastic.” Danny complimented.

“Thanks, guys.” You chuckled. “So glad you could join the celebration, even if it was virtual.”

“Well, actually-“ Josh began to speak, but Jake gave him a quick shove, silencing him. He pulled the phone away so only his face was in view. You gave him a strange look, but Jake quickly switched topics, not letting the conversation linger on Josh’s words.

“Let me see it, baby.” Your heart fluttered at his words, a blush involuntarily pushing onto your cheeks. You pulled your diploma up, opening the cover to show him the inside. His eyes squinted, trying to make it out as best as he could. After a moment, a smile crossed his face, too. “That’s my girl.” You were certain you could have died on the spot. He said it with so much sincerity that there was no room for a hint of doubt that he meant it. “I’m so proud of you, y/n.”

“Thanks, Jake.” You responded. “I wish you were here.”

“Me too,” he told you, but his eyes were following something beyond the phone screen. “Soon, okay? I promise.” There was some kind of emotion in his expression that you couldn’t decipher. Excitement, maybe? You couldn’t place it.

“Whatever you say, rockstar.” You teased. Deep down, even if you’d never admit it, you were sad he wasn’t there. You were more upset at the fact you didn’t know when you’d see him again. It was pushing a month since you’d met him, now. The time you’d spent with him at his hotel all those weeks ago was slowly dwindling into just a memory rather than a feeling. As much as you talked to him on the phone, it couldn’t equate to him being there in person. You felt a little ridiculous, missing someone so much when he wasn’t even your boyfriend. But, he was special, and there was no denying it. You didn’t have to be ‘in a relationship’ with him to miss him, or to love him. He was just that type of person.

“I mean it,” he said, looking more serious now. “I want to see you, too.” You were pulled away from his words by your brothers ushering you out the door. When you emerged into the bustling parking lot, you focused back on Jake, trying to ignore the violent glare of the sun.

“I know, I’m sorry. I guess this is harder than I thought it would be.” You chuckled. “I just miss you, and I can’t wait to see you again.” You admitted. A sad smile crossed his face.

“I know, but I promise things are going to get better.” His tone held a note of finality. You gave a nod. “Listen, I have to go. I don’t want to, but I’ll talk to you soon, okay?”

“Okay, thank you for watching the ceremony.” You tried not to let your disappointment show. “Talk to you later, rockstar.” He looked like he was walking, now. You could hear lots of chatter in the background of the call. You couldn’t quite place where he was, though.

“I’m so proud of you, y/n.” He reminded. He pulled the phone away from him slightly so the rest of his brothers could crowd into the frame again.

“Bye!” The other three chorused. You let out a giggle, giving a wave.

“Bye, guys! Thanks for calling!”

“We love you!” Josh’s voice rang through the phone again, warming your heart. You pulled your camera back, allowing your brothers and two roommates to see them, too. They all waved at the camera. Jake caught your eye one last time, giving you a look full of emotion. It was his way of saying ‘I love you’ without actually having to say it aloud. You didn’t break his eye contact until the phone disconnected. You stared at the black screen for a moment, heart heavy but full at the same time. You knew he was busy, but some days it just hit harder than others. That day in particular seemed to be one of them.

You found it funny, how you were surrounded by people who loved you and wanted to celebrate you, but even so, the only one who you wanted to celebrate with was Jake. You handed Eve’s phone back to her, attempting to break out of your solemn state by quickly covering it with a smile. Eve gave you a knowing look, reassuring you that she knew how you felt, and it was okay to feel that way. You let out a deep breath, shaking the emotion off.

“Does everyone want to go for dinner?” Your mom asked, looking around to the group. You looked between your brothers, who were more than okay with the idea. They were always willing to eat, no matter the circumstance. You turned to Ally and Eve, who gave a nod of agreement.

“Yeah, I know a good place.” You said, giving a restaurant name for everyone to type into their GPS.

You all piled into separate cars. Your parents and Alex got in your car, Eve and Sam went with your other two brothers in her car, and Ally went with Ben in his car.

You all went to a small family diner, crowding into a few tables they had pushed together for your group. The meal was fantastic, filled with laughter and old memories, and even some tears from your parents. Many pictures were taken, some sent directly to Jake and some posted on social media stories. A complimentary dessert was served from the staff as a congratulations for graduating. You loved the small businesses; that’s why you took the last three years to get to know the workers and the owners of as many spots as you could. They were always kind and appreciative of any business they got. You loved the relationships you got to form with the staff, and they always seemed quick to thank you for your loyalty and support over the years.

As you were finishing up and the group was getting ready to leave, you looked to your left to see Eve holding hands with Sam under the table, seemingly undetected to everyone else. Your eyes softened at the sight. For a moment, a twinge of jealousy ran through you, mad that you couldn’t have Jake there to hold his hand. Then, you shook it away, realizing that Eve was so supportive of how you were feeling because she’d been feeling that way for years. Her and Sam fell in love practically the minute they’d met each other, but always lived so far away that they thought it was best to leave things as they were instead of fighting for a long distance relationship.

You thought about it for a moment, uncertainty bubbling in your stomach, knowing you had done the complete opposite. They waited, and still seemed to be waiting for each other, or for the time to be right. They didn’t tell anyone, they barely ever let on about how they felt about each other or how much they talked. You knew about it only because you knew both of them better than anyone in the world. When you eventually asked her about it, she was honest with you. On the other hand, you met Jake, and denied completely that you felt any connection, only to run into him again and start to talk to him so often that your day felt empty when he wasn’t on the other side of the phone.

You pushed the thoughts aside, realizing that you were in way too deep to worry about it now. Even if you put a pause on whatever you and Jake were doing, you were certain it would cause more turmoil than good by that point. You figured it was best to let it run its course; either you would end up really happy, or swear off dating for the rest of your life. Still, as you pushed the thought away, an uneasiness settled in the pit of your stomach. You wondered if getting so close to someone you barely knew was the best idea.

“Ready to head home?” Eve asked, noticing your blank stare. You looked up to her, nodding.

“Yeah, I’m ready to drink.” You said, a smile breaking through your anxious thoughts. You gathered your things from the table, turning to your parents for a goodbye. They walked towards you, past all of your brothers, and pulled you into a hug. “Thanks for everything.” You mumbled, head pressed into your fathers chest. He was holding you tightly, scared to let you go. He couldn’t believe his little girl was grown up and ready to start her life.

“We’re so proud of you, honey.” Your mom said, fixing the strap on your dress. You laughed to yourself, knowing your mom wouldn’t be your mom without her worrying that everything was proper and in place. She was so caring and attentive, wanting to ensure that all of her children were happy and ready to take on the world.

“We’re going to head to the hotel and leave you guys to your partying.” Your dad chuckled, knowing you would all be up to no good. He remembered back to when you were all living at home with them, certain that nothing had changed. “Meet us for breakfast tomorrow before we fly out?” He asked.

“Yeah, what time?” You questioned.

“I think our flight is at three?” He looked to your mother, silently begging for confirmation.

“Three-thirty.” She corrected, causing another laugh from you. “We’d love to see you again before we go.” She pointed the second part of her statement at you.

“Yeah, I’m sure I could manage that.” You assured them. “Give me a call in the morning.”

“Okay,” a soft smile crossed your mothers lips.

“Did you guys need a drive back to the hotel?” You asked. Your mom shook her head.

“We already called a cab.” You had to stop yourself from rolling your eyes.

“I could have driven you! It’s not that far away.” You scolded. Your dad let out a small laugh, shaking his head at you.

“Go home, have fun, but be safe.” He said, pulling you into another hug, landing a kiss on the top of your head. Your mom did the same, holding on to you a bit longer than usual.

“I love you guys.” You said, not wanting them to go. You loved the life you were building, but it was extremely hard living so far away from your family.

“We love you.” Your mom said, finally pulling back. “See you in the morning.” You bid a small goodbye as they turned away, watching them as they walked outside. Alex slung his arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his side. He was always there to pick you back up when you were sad. He was mind-numbingly annoying by times, in true big brother fashion, but he was always your biggest supporter and the first ear willing to listen when you were upset.

“Let’s head home, squirt.” He squeezed your arm. You gave him a grin, gathering the rest of the group and heading outside, too.

When you arrived back at your house, you and Alex were out of breath from belting along to songs on the stereo and laughing about old childhood stories. You drove a bit slower, wanting to spend a little more time alone with your brother. You locked your car, leading him into the front door. When you stepped inside, your eyes soaked up the unusual decor that was littering the house. You couldn’t help but laugh, looking at the banners that were hung haphazardly on the walls, miscellaneous balloons littering the floors, and streamers dangling from the ceiling. You realized the group must have decorated earlier. You left before everyone else, needing to get to the ceremony for instructions on how the event was going to happen.

“Surprise!” Eve shouted, barely being able to contain her excitement. You picked up a balloon from the ground, looking at the writing on it.

“Happy 7th birthday?” You questioned.

“We were on a time crunch.” She laughed, running over to give you a hug. “But, we have lots of alcohol and food. The balloons were the least of my worry.”

“Thank you.” You meant it. Even when life was terrible, or you never thought things would get better, your friends never failed to show you how great the world could be even when it doesn’t seem like it. They were the best people you’d ever met, and they would do anything for you. You would for them, too, no questions asked. They were beyond friends; more like family, at that point. “I’m gonna go get changed.” You told her. She nodded, letting you go so you could go to your room.

You closed your bedroom door behind you, dropping your purse on your bed. You placed your diploma on your desk, eyes lingering over it with a feeling of satisfaction growing larger by the second. Before anything, you reached over to the wall and ran your fingers over the signed record from Jake, wanting to feel close to him just for a moment. Eventually, you went to your closet and pulled out your favourite pair of blue mom jeans. They had embroidered flowers on the back pockets from a girls night you’d had with your roommates the year prior. They weren’t perfectly done, but the three of you definitely had fun learning how to do it. Eve and Ally both had jeans that matched yours, and they frequently wore them, loving the memory just as much as you did.

You pulled out a black lace bodysuit, deciding to dress up a little bit. You had no idea how many people the girls had invited, so you thought it best to be prepared. You changed quickly, throwing on some more perfume and deodorant. You made a pit stop at the bathroom, tidying your makeup and reapplying your lipstick that had worn off from dinner. As you were finishing, you noticed the golden glow through the window, signifying the sun setting. With a quick brush through your hair, you were ready to rejoin everyone. The kitchen was noisy, filled with all of your brothers and closest friends. When they saw you enter, they let out a collective cheer. Sam went right to the table, pouring a round of shots for everyone. He handed you one first, watching expectingly. You rolled your eyes, but swallowed it down like he wanted. Once you finished, he took his own.

“That was for you, graduate.” He jokingly bowed to you. “I never thought you’d make it.” You lightly punched his arm, laughing off his pass.

“Shut up, Sam.”

“You love me!” He retorted, returning to the bottles of liquor to continue drinking. You followed, grabbing your own cup and mixing yourself a drink. You took a seat at the table, seeing a deck of playing cards messily strewn across the wood. You picked it up, giving it a quick shuffle. You set it back down, in front of Sam, who’d taken the chair next to you. He gave you a look of questioning. You nodded your head towards the cards.

“Cut it.” You stated. “Low card takes a shot.” He straightened up, hovering his fingers over the sides of the cards, as if he was channelling some sort of lucky energy. “Aces are high.” You reminded. He gave a nod, settling on a spot in the deck before he cut it in half. He slumped slightly as he looked at the number, flipping it to show you. You smirked, eyes looking over his choice. “Three’s the best you could do?”

“Fuck you.” He placed the cards back down, looking to you expectantly. You took to the deck, cutting it closer to the bottom. You took a deep breath in before flipping it over.

“Drink up.” You threw the cards down gently, letting him see the queen for himself.

“Whatever. You always cheat.” He picked a bottle from the collection, barely looking at the label before he poured a shot into his glass.

“What are you, four?” You retorted. “Grow up.” You both dissolved into a small fit of laughter at the fake argument. He drank the liquid with a small shudder, placing the shot glass back on the table.

“You’re trying to kill me, woman.”

“You picked the bottle, not me.” You chuckled. “You did that to yourself, Sammy boy.”

“We’re playing king’s cup, later. You’ll pay for it, then.” He warned, standing now. Eve was hovering behind him, giggling at your antics.

“Whatever you say, brother.” You waved him off. Eve gave you a smile, but ultimately followed him as he walked away. You understood, but it irritated you slightly. Not because she wanted to be with him, but because Jake wasn’t there for you to follow after him like that. You hated that you were bothered by it so much, but it seemed as though that feeling was permanent. You even found yourself feeling that way around Ben and Ally by times, and it never bothered you before. They’d been dating as long as you knew them, and you were well acquainted with their PDA. Only recently had it started to irk you. Your other three brothers broke you away from your internal brooding. When you looked up, Alex was holding out a can for you. You reached out, hesitantly taking it from him. You noticed they all had one of their own, watching you intensely. “You guys are freaking me out.” You warned.

They broke character for a moment, letting out a few childish laughs. “Shotgun with us.” Alex said. Relief washed over you as you stood.

“You guys should have just said that.” You rolled your eyes.

“Then it wouldn’t have been any fun.” Austin reminded. You grabbed a knife from the cutlery drawer, poking a hole in the side of your can. You handed it around to the other three, who all followed suit.

“If she wins, she can get her graduation present!” Eve called out, catching your attention. You cocked your head to the side in confusion.

“I thought I said no gifts?” You called back.

“Trust me, you’ll want this one.” She said before looking down at her phone. “So you better beat them.” You gave a shrug, understanding it was best not to argue. When Will put the knife down on the counter, he nodded to the rest of you, silently saying he was ready. “Go on three, okay?” Eve said. You all hummed in agreement, preparing for the competition. “Three, two…..” she let out a long, dramatic pause before letting you all start. “One!” She shouted. Instantly, you all cracked the tabs of your cans open tipped your heads back, side of the cans to your mouth.

You drank it as fast as you could, throwing the can in the sink as soon as all of the liquid was gone. You looked to your brothers, catching your breath, only to see you had finished first. Will was next, followed neck and neck by Alex and Austin. They ooked around, noticing that you’d won. The three all let out a stagger of belches, making you turn your nose up at them. When they caught their own breath, they let out a collective dramatic groan, clearly faking them. You watched them carefully, not sure why their reaction was so docile. Usually they’d be floored if you beat them at any competition. You were astonished. “You guys let me win.” You deducted.

“What?” Alex dragged out his words, faking disbelief. “We would never do such a thing!”

“Yeah, y/n, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Austin shook his head.

“You’re losing it, squirt.” Will said, tossing his can in the sink, too.

“Okay, what the hell is going on?” You laughed, but you were genuinely nervous. A knock sounded on the main door, making the tension even worse.

“Well, you won, right?” Eve cackled, finding your confusion hilarious.

“I mean, yeah, but-“

“Didn’t I say you’d get your gift if you won?” You gave a slow nod, still not catching on to what she was saying.

“And that is… a person?” You questioned. She didn’t answer, only watched you, eager for you to understand the situation. You looked between her and your brothers, waiting for somebody to tell you what was happening. “Can somebody tell me what the fuck-“

“Go answer the door!” They all yelled in unison. You cowered slightly at all of the loud voices at once, but did as you were told. All of your brothers pulled out their phones, wanting to capture your reaction on video. When you got to the door, you couldn’t really see outside. It was dark, and your roommates hadn’t turned the porch light on. You unlocked the knob, twisting it and pulling it open slowly. You stepped back, allowing yourself to open it completely.

You stood, frozen, dumbfounded at the bodies waiting on the porch. You blinked once, hard. When you opened your eyes, the sight before you was the same. You blinked again, just to be sure. When you looked for the third time and they still stood before you, you were certain your heart was going to explode out of your chest. You took a step forward, hesitant at first. “You really think we’d miss your graduation party, witchy woman?” Jake let out a nearly silent tsk. When he spoke, it solidified the fact that him and his brothers were really standing in front of you. You sprung to action, nearly knocking him over with the force of your hug. He wasted no time wrapping his arms around you, holding you with just as much enthusiasm.

When you pulled away, without another thought, you leaned up and pressed your lips to his. His hand found your face, thumb running gently over the skin of your cheek. Your own hand found the back of his neck, pulling him impossibly closer, completely lost in the feeling of him being in front of you again. The warmth of his mouth on yours gave you a feeling you were certain you’d never be able to replicate. You barely knew him, but somehow he felt like home, more than anywhere or anyone else ever had. When you broke apart, you were both blissfully breathless, foreheads resting against each others as if you needed the support to remain upright.

“As sweet, and as gross, as that was, we’re here too.” Josh chimed from beside you, giving you a gentle reminder that he wanted a hug, too. Jake sent him a look of warning, to which his twin remained happily ignorant to. You laughed, breaking from Jake to pull him into a hug. You did the same with Sam and Danny.

“Come in, please.” You ushered them all inside, noticing that they were carrying bags. “I don’t even know where to start.” You chuckled. “Are you guys staying here?”

“I mean, Eve said we could, but if you don’t want us to, we don’t have to.” Jake explained.

“No, I’m more than okay with it.” You promised. “Just trying to make sense of the whole thing.”

“I figured that Jake would stay with you. Austin and Will have the guest bedroom, Alex has the upstairs couch. There’s still two couches in the basement, and I’m pretty sure I have an air mattress in the closet.” Eve told you. You decided not to bring up that she didn’t mention your youngest brothers name. You figured he’d end up in her room, anyway.

“So you’ve been planning this for a while?” You questioned, giving her a narrow stare. She nodded. “And everyone knew but me?” She nodded again.

“That’s kind of the whole point of a surprise, y/n.” Sam said, as if it was obvious. You broke from the boys, leaning over to punch your brother in the shoulder. He hissed in pain, rubbing the spot where your fist connected with him.

“Wait!” The tallest of the three Kiszka brothers broke the tension. You all turned to look at him, confused at the sudden outburst. “If he’s Sam, and I’m Sam, how are we going to know which Sam is which?” You looked between the two, thinking about it for a moment.

“Okay, well, you can be Sammy.” You pointed at Jake’s brother. “And you can be Sam.” You then pointed at your own sibling.

“That works.” Sam nodded. Sammy agreed.

“I figured calling you Kiszka may be a little impersonal. And if I called you ‘Tall Sam’, it might bruise his ego.” You explained with a hint of fake sympathy.

“You know what?” You brother said, making a move at you. “Fuck you,” He grumbled before he caught you off guard, tackling you to the ground. The both of you wrestled each other, fighting for dominance, while the rest of the crowd watched.

“Did I cause that?” Sammy asked, looking to your roommate. She shook her head. “Should we stop them?” She repeated her earlier action.

“That’s what they’re like,” she explained, gaze falling to the dispute on the floor.

“And she’ll win, too. She always does.” Alex added. Eve gave a shrug.

“I didn’t want to say it, but yeah, she does.” Eve admitted. The entire group let out a laugh. “Did you guys want a drink? I’m sure this will go on for a while.”

Eventually, you had Sam pinned to the ground. You were both breathless and in disarray, but you weren’t willing to give up without him admitting defeat. After a few moments of him struggling, you felt him give up, tapping the floor twice. You jumped up, giving a quick a-ha, just to piss him off. You straightened yourself out, fixing your clothes and your hair as best you could. You held a hand out, helping your brother to his feet. It was like routine with you both; as soon as the fight stopped, you went back to normal. No hard feelings until the next one rolled around. You and Sam joined the rest of the company around the table, all with a drink in their hand, now.

“You guys can go throw your bags downstairs, if you want.” You told them. “I can show you where to go.”

“No, I can. It’s okay.” Eve assured you. You nodded, eyes falling on Jake. He gave you a soft smile. You nodded your head towards the hallway, a silent plea for a minute alone. He didn’t hesitate in joining you as you walked away. You led him down to your room, prompting him to enter first. He did, but in a borderline cautious manor. You followed, gently closing the door behind you.

He sat his bag down by the end of your bed, turning to look at you. You approached him slowly, reaching for his hand before you said anything. He took yours, locking your fingers together. He gave a gentle pull, bringing you closer to him. A smile ghosted your lips, realizing that the memory of being with Jake was nothing compared to the reality. You wrapped your free arm around him, resting your head on his chest. He placed his lips to the top of your head, lingering for a second more than he intended. He’d been anticipating this moment for days, but now that you were in front of him, he was drunk off your presence. You closed your eyes, listening to his heartbeat, thinking that it was one of the most peaceful sounds you’d ever heard. You wanted to talk, to hear every word he was willing to say, or to ask all of the questions that had been bubbling in your head since he showed up, but you couldn’t. The serenity of the shared silence between you was too comforting to break.

He sat down on the edge of your bed, guiding you down beside him. At first, you just rested your head on his shoulder, never letting your hand fall from his. After a moment, he used his hand to pull your chin up, wanting nothing more than to see your face. You watched his eyes, losing yourself in the brown hue that was threatening black in the dim lighting. You opened your mouth, wanting to speak so badly, but not knowing what to say. He gave a small chuckle, mostly because he felt the same way. He tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, running his thumb over your cheek, and eventually down over your jawline. His thumb brushed over the bottom of your lip, eliciting a smile from you. You kissed the pad of his finger, remembering back to when he did it to you the night you met him.

“I missed you.” He said, finally breaking the silence.

“I missed you, too.” You almost laughed, knowing that your words couldn’t come close to explaining how you really felt. “I thought you had a show today?”

“Yeah, it turns out that I didn’t, actually.” He shrugged, a small hint of humour in his statement.

“So you lied to me, Jacob?” You teased.

“Maybe a little, but it was for the best, and it’ll never happen again.” He promised, a grin eating away at his cheeks.

“Uh-huh,” you mumbled, your own hand finding its way to his face, now. You tangled your fingers in the hair behind his ear, pushing it away from his face. You’d never dated a boy with long hair, but the more time you spent with Jake, the more you realized what you were missing out on. Then again, you thought it may just be a Jake thing. A lot of things seemed to be. ‘If I had to label myself, I would probably be Jake-sexual,’ you thought to yourself, having to hold back a giggle. You brushed your own thoughts away, shutting down your own stupidity. “And you’ve been keeping it a secret from me for how long?”

“I know, I’m sorry. I almost gave in a few times, but I thought that a surprise would be way better.” He explained. “Then Josh almost ruined it when we were at the fucking airport earlier.” He rolled his eyes. You thought back to the FaceTime call, laughing at the memory. The interaction made a bit more sense now. “I really wanted to be here for the ceremony, but the schedule just didn’t line up. I’m really sorry I missed it.”

“You don’t have to apologize for anything. You saw it on FaceTime, anyway.”

“I know, I know, but it wasn’t the same. I was hoping to be the first one to hug you when you got off stage.” He chuckled to himself. “It may be stupid, but I really wish I could have.”

“There’s one more ceremony after this, you know.” You reminded him. He smiled, nodding at your words.

“So you think you’re gonna keep me around for that long?” He raised an eyebrow at you.

“I’ll keep you around forever, if that’s what you want, too.” You admitted.

“I wouldn’t mind that.” He breathed. “So you were surprised? Nobody let it slip?” You shook your head.

“No, I had no idea.”

“But pleasantly surprised, right?” You laughed at his question.

“Of course, Jake. I’ve been wishing you were here every night since you left. I’m more than happy that you came.” You leaned in a bit closer, a bit too nervous to kiss him, for some reason.

“That’s good, because I’m happy I’m here.” He told you, inching closer as well. You stayed in limbo for a moment, both scared to make a move. “I’d like to kiss you again, if that’s okay.” He finally said, not being able to resist the urge any longer.

“It’s more than okay, rockstar.” You said. Within a second, his mouth was on yours, a bit more desperate than the kiss you’d shared outside. His hand released his hold on yours, quickly finding your hip and pulling you closer to him. Your fingers grabbed the fabric of his shirt, holding on to him like you were scared he’d get away. When he pulled back, his nose brushed over yours, causing a giggle from you.

“I have something for you.” He said, moving back a bit. You tried not to show your disappointment at the sudden withdrawal. He reached down to his bag, opening it and rummaging for a moment before pulling a small gift bag out. He handed it to you, his smile never faltering.

“You didn’t have to get me-“

“I wanted to.” He cut you off, knowing exactly where you were going with your statement. One thing you loved about him was how sweet he was, but every now and then he let a dominant side slip out. It made you excited to reveal a whole other side of him when the time came. You took it from him, looking over the simple black gift bag. You pulled up the single piece of tape holding it closed, taking a peek inside. You pulled out a small bottle. Upon first inspection, you realized it was a bottle of cologne. You gave him a questioning look. “It may be stupid, or whatever, but, uh, you said one night on the phone that your bed didn’t smell like me and it made you sad?” He was unsure of himself as he spoke. A blush dusted your cheeks, remembering that statement very clearly.

“Yeah, you… you smell… nice.” You managed to get the words out, feeling like an idiot. “I think that the night we stayed together at the hotel was the best sleep I’ve ever had. It sucks sometimes, because I don’t have anything that really reminds me of you. When I think of that night, I usually remember the smell of your cologne. I think it helped me fall asleep.” You explained, looking over the small bottle, too embarrassed to look up at him.

“Well, that’s the one.” He chuckled, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. “Josh thought of that, actually. If you don’t want it, it’s okay. I just thought that maybe… that would solve that problem.” You felt the anxiety slip away.

“That’s really sweet, Jake.” You pulled the cap off, putting the bottle to your nose and inhaling. Your eyes involuntarily fluttered closed, revelling in the scent. It smelled exactly like him. “I’m sorry if me saying that was weird.” You said when you came back to reality.

“No, I thought it was cute.” He laughed. “I was more worried that you would think I was weird for getting you that.” You shook your head, shutting that idea down as fast as he said it.

“I think this will definitely help me sleep better.” You admitted, all notes of embarrassment long gone, now.

“That’s what I was hoping for.” You admired his smile, how beautiful it looked on his lips, and you wished it could stay there forever. “Keep going,” he encouraged. You reached in the bag, pulling out a small box. You eyed it wearily, slowly opening it. Inside held a ring with a small ruby gemstone. “It’s not anything serious.” He said, quickly. “I just saw it when we were shopping around, it reminded me of you.”

“Nothing serious, eh?” You teased. “Looks pretty serious to me.” You pulled it out, inspecting it closer. It was dainty, but beautiful beyond its simplicity. “This looks expensive, Jake.” You scolded, the humour disappearing from your voice.

“I don’t care about that. I care if you like it, though, or if it’s too much.”

“No, I do like it. It’s beautiful,” you sighed. “I just feel bad.”

“Don’t feel bad.” He dismissed you. “I wanted to get it for you. It’s not even close to what you deserve.” Your stomach fluttered with adoration for him. “And this isn’t a proposal, or anything, obviously.” He explained. “Although, hopefully someday.” He muttered, but you caught it. You smiled to yourself, still coming to terms with the fact that he was really serious about you. “It’s just something pretty for someone even prettier.” His boyish charm always made you swoon, mostly because you’d never been with someone who courted you like he did. “I don’t know if you like ruby, but it reminded me of the lipstick you wore that night at the bar. Also, in the song you were singing…” he trailed off, but you knew the lyric he was referring to. “Seriously, you can pawn it and kick me out if I overstepped. I just thought you deserved something nice for such a big accomplishment.”

“You’re trying to get me to fall in love with you, aren’t you?” The humorous accusatory statement lightened the mood.

“Yeah, kind of. You’re way behind if you’re just realizing that, now.” He laughed. “There’s something else in there, too.”

“Jake,” you sighed, feeling terrible about the cost of his gift.

“Hey,” he warned “this one is for both of us, so don’t feel bad.” You gave a small nod, pulling out the last thing in the bag. It was a small envelope with your nickname written on the front. You gently lifted the paper flap from the glue, careful not to damage the card inside. You pulled it out, smiling at the design on the front of it. “It was hard to find a card that says for my ‘not-quite my girlfriend, even though I really want her to be, but I’m too scared to ask.’ I figured that one was suitable.” He used his fingers to quote some of his words. You got a laugh out of it, but the nervousness was creeping back in.

“Is that your way of asking me?” Your voice was soft, genuinely inquiring about it. He didn’t respond right away, but he did study your face for a moment, trying to see if that’s what you wanted.

“Depends on your answer.” He replied, voice so quiet you could barely hear him. You didn’t respond right away, thinking heavily about the situation, wondering how you’d gotten here. You swore off dating, promising yourself that school would come first and that you didn’t have time for any drama or heartbreak. But he was different. He was unlike anyone you’d ever fallen for, and he always put you first. Even in the stress of the last few weeks, his main priority was you getting your schoolwork done. You felt like he’d been cheering you on more than you did yourself. You were scared beyond measure, but the more you thought about it, the idea of being his girlfriend was more of a comfort rather than a fear.

“Yeah,” you whispered. “I think that would be okay. I mean, we’re pretty much dating, anyway. Just without a label.” His eyes lit up like a little kid on Christmas morning, wasting no time before leaning in to kiss you again. This one was short, but filled with sweetness and let you know that he was over the moon that you said yes. When he pulled back, he eyes the card as if to tell you to open it. You did so, immediately noticing a paper inside of it. You pushed it to the side without looking, wanting more than anything to see what he wrote.

Meet me in Atlanta and let me take you across the world with me xx - your rockstar

You grabbed the paper that was resting in the card, picking it up to take a look at it. Your stomach dropped at the sight. It was a plane ticket to Atlanta, the date plastered on it was for three weeks in the future. You looked up at him, seeing a hopeful look in his eye. “You don’t have to stay with us all summer, maybe just for a little while. I want you to be in my life, and this is a huge part of it. I want you to be a part of it, too.” You weren’t sure how to respond. It was a huge commitment, leaving home to be with him. There was no doubt you wanted to, but that same fear from before was creeping back in. For something so new, it just seemed to be happing very fast. “You don’t have to answer me yet, you can think about it, first. It’s an invitation, more than anything. Not a demand.”

“Wow,” Was all you could muster out. He was fidgeting with his hands, nervous about what you would say. “I would love to, Jake. It’s just… money, and time, and I’m scared, I think.” You explained.

“Don’t worry about money.” He said. You rolled your eyes, unable to hold the expression back.

“Obviously I’m going to worry about it, Jake. You’re my boyfriend, my very new boyfriend, at that. I don’t want you to have to pay my way for anything.” You sighed.

“I want you there, okay? Even if it’s just for a day. I promised you I’d take you around the world with me, didn’t I?” He cracked a small smile, which you couldn’t help but return.

“I still have to work, though. I have an internship this summer.”

“It’s virtual, isn’t it?” He asked. You were surprised he remembered.

“Yeah,” you nodded. “All that aside, what if you decide you don’t want me there anymore?” A humourless laugh fell from your mouth.

“That will never happen.” He guaranteed you. “I know you’re nervous, and it’s okay, but I want you. I’ve been certain about that since the day I met you.” He said, index finger lifting your chin so you would look up at him. “Even if you just come to our show, then you can decide from there. If you don’t want to, no hard feelings. I’ll still call you every night and tell you how much I miss you.” You smiled at his words, finally giving a nod. “I don’t want to go this long without seeing you again.” He admitted.

“Me either.” You said, placing the ticket back in the card. You placed all of the items back in the bag, with the exception of the ring, which you slipped on your middle finger. It fit perfectly. “If you’re sure about this, I’ll come with you, rockstar. At least for a few days.” His heart leapt with excitement, a grin appearing on his lips.

“Never been more sure of anything in my life.” He promised. You met his eyes again, curious as to why every time you looked at him all of the anxiety seemed to melt away.

“Thank you, Jake. For everything. For the gifts, for showing up… for caring about me.” You mumbled the last part, feeling stupid for saying it.

“You don’t have to thank me for anything.” He whispered.

“How long do have you for, rockstar?” You asked, a mischievous smile creeping up on you.

“Three days.” He said, taking the bag from you and placing it on the floor. He pulled you closer to him, noses practically touching, now.

“I guess we’ll have to make them count, then.” You told him. He let out a small chuckle.

“I guess so, witchy woman.”

TAGLIST: @gvfpal @jakesgrapejuice @hellowgoodbye

#greta van fleet #gvf #danny gvf #sam gvf #danny wagner #gvf fic #jake gvf #jake kiszka #josh gvf #sam kiszka #jake kiszka series #jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka fic #jaket kiszka #greta van fleet fanfic #greta van fleet imagine #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet fluff #gvf x reader #gvf imagine #gvf series #josh kiszka #writing #mine #fic #my fic #spitfire #builtbybrokenbells

[that-one-random-writer]

That's My Kind Of Night Chapter 2 |Complete|

He spent this whole chapter shirtless. You're welcome! Word count: 1,365

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x (Southern!F)Reader

Summary: Jake takes leave and goes back to Texas. His friend is now married with a woman. This woman's friend gets under his skin and he loves it.

Warnings: cussin', flirtin', heavy banter, mentions of a lot of southern recreations in this series, Sexual tension. Mature

SOUTHERN CHRONICLES | CHAPTER 1

You had dropped off Jake back at his truck. He pulled down to the lake. His parents had sent him with a truck bed full of brush to add to the growing bonfire. He backed up his truck to the pit. He pulled his shirt up and tossed it into the passenger seat. The heat was weighing heavy as he stepped out of his truck. He climbed up the bed of his truck and threw the bigger branches into the pile. Each muscle flexing with each lift and turn.

You pulled up next to him on the four-wheeler and sat comfortably on the seat. You leaned back. Biting your lip at the incredibly handsome aviator. "Am I naked yet?" He smirked down at you, assuming you're undressing him in your mind with how intently you're staring.

"I'm just making sure you know what you're doing." You watched as his muscles gleamed, throwing the last of the wood branches into the pile. "The view is just a perk."

Jake rubbed his hand together, getting the wood debree off his palms. "You're making sure I toss wood into a pit?" He smirked and raised his brows. "I think I can manage." He called her on her bullshit excuses. He flexed his upper body, the sunlight kissing his skin, giving you a gun show. Your tongue danced around your lips, pulling the bottom into a bite. You leaned forward and grabbed the handles, breaking yourself from the trance he was attempting to put you in.

Your brain was running a battle. He was so fine. Carved in all the right places, his bantering was so inviting. Most men couldn't keep up with you.

You had a rough time with dating. Vanny and Blake had seen it first hand. The men were either too clingy and so sweet that it felt like you would break them or just uninteresting with the personality of unflavored oatmeal. You wanted to seize the opportunity to enjoy one night with this impressive man, but at what cost of your moral. You were not the kind of woman who just slept around. No judgment for other women. It just wasn't your style. Which accounts for why the tension was climbing so high for you. It had been a year since your last sexual experience. If you just get through this party, everything will be fine, and your morals will stay intact.

"Alright, big guns. Let's get back to the house. We need a few more things before people start showing up. Im driving." He jumped off the truck and mounted the four-wheeler behind you. "No, you're not." His bare skin pressed against your body. His chest was warm and firm against your back. His hands engulfed yours over the handles. He hit the gas, and once again, he was taking control.

You both got up to the house and held the door for you. You found Vanny wiggling her brows seeing the two of you walk in, especially with his attire, or lack thereof. She looked over to Blake, smirking. Blake looked back and saw Jake walk in behind you. He smiled back at his wife. They both made eyes knowing what the other was thinking.

"Honeybee!" She walked happily towards you. "Jake honey, will you be a dear and grab some firewood and help Blake split it for tonight after the party. This cabin gets cold at night." You knew something was up. She gave you a look, and you had known her for far too long. That look had gotten you into trouble before. Jake was clueless to the brewing of Vanny's antics. He followed Blake out. Blake had tossed his shirt on the couch as he walked out. 

"I know that look, Van." You scoffed. "Blake's out there inviting him to stay with us tonight, isn't he."

"Nooo. Not exactly." Vanny bit her cheeks.

You raised an eyebrow. "Then what is it?" You crossed your arms.

"You know, this cabin is just so small with only two beds." She looked towards the hall. "The campsite is going to be filled up with the people that are drinking too much to get home. They've already messaged us and made their sleeping arrangements."

"So, he is staying up here?" You stopped her before she could continue.

"In your room, actually," she said it so fast it was barely audible. "He doesn't have to ask him to stay in the cabin. That was decided a while ago."  She then spoke under her breath. "We just didn't tell you that... or him, " she trailed.

"You are such a bitch." You rolled your eyes words spewing like venom.

"You'll thank me later." She raised two glasses of soda. "Now that I gave you a heads up. Why don't we sit, drink some coke, and discuss some politics. The debate is on right now." Her eyes danced towards the window. She sat on the love seat that had a perfect view of the two men.

You both had used discussing politics as a code for ogling over men. It had extended into your adulthood.

Jake bent down to grab the wood on the stack. His toned back glowing in the sun. He placed the wood on the block. It was like slow motion the way his shredded body moved. The dog tags he wore spoke power into your mind. His body was a trap that ensnared your every thought.

"You know Blake told me, Jake just bought a beach house in San Diego. Its a four bed and four and a half bath." You look back at her.

"Van! You're disrupting the visual here." You look back in the direction of Jake.

"You got that look Honey bee." She smirked looking back at her husband. Admiring his physique.

"What look is that?" Jake met your eyes through the window pane. You smiled softly, trying your best to hide it.

"The same one I had when I first saw Blake. You're into him, more then just physically. If you play your cards right maybe Blake and I can come visit you in a four bedroom house. We will be adding a guest though..." she trailed.

You looked back at her quizzically then caught sight of her hand on her belly. "You're pregnant..." you whispered softly as your breathing hitched. Your lungs expanded suddenly letting out a gasp. "No fucking w-!" You yelled. She clapped her hand over your mouth.

"Shhhh... Blake doesn't know yet. I'm only six weeks." You looked back at the two. They hadn't noticed your outburst. "God leave it to you to tell me I'm gonna be an aunt during politics. That explains no wine" You took a sip of your coke. You giggled. "So that's why you're suddenly into my love life."

She rolled her eyes. "First of all this is your God child, but Yeah, I guess I was bit by a love bug." She placed a hand softly on her belly. "I just want the same for you. I know it seems selfish, but it's meant with a good heart. I know you've wanted this life too. Jake called Blake letting him know he was coming back home for a while. We talked about him and I pointed out the similarities. We knew instantly, we had to set this up at least to try. Humor me, Honey Bee. Just give him a shot. Blake says he's a down to earth man, comes from money so he can take care of you, has a stable career, has an incredible body too. He's a little rough around the edges, but that's exactly why we set you up. Your my little stinging Honeybee."

This is the side of Vanny that only those close to her saw, the genuine side. She was the yin to your yang. She brought out the best in you. You matched her energy best you could.

"Okay, Van" You agreed huffing out. "I can try, but only because you are carrying my God child and I don't want to upset them."

She smiled, hugging you gently. "Aren't you excited?" She questioned, and the conversation turned to her new bundle of joy.

CHAPTER 3 MATURE!SMUT!

I'm trying this again since tumblr ate this post, too.

No permissions to share the story as your own. Do not repost to any site. Don't steal from aspiring authors that makes you a 'C U Next Tuesday'!

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[a-court-of-moonlight-and-ire]

What is UP moonlight and ire nation, Im being tormented by intrusive thoughts rn, so I have decided to read a chapter of A Court of Mist and Fury and hope they stop when Im done with this. Last time on the Flames and Darkness Liveblog we had Lucien finally finding Feyre and Feyre being needlessly cruel to him until he left again. also, Feyre used her Tamlin-powers to shapeshift herself a pair of wings and I think that was pretty much it, I feel like not a lot happens in these chapters tbh. And yet I always have so much to say to say about them... Whatever, lets get into this

Chapter 48

Is Feyre smelling the other people at this inn having sex? what kinda smells and noises is she talking about

Theyre in a village that consists of just the inn theyre staying at, a tailor, a grocery store and a brothel? I mean presumably theres actual houses there too but that doest seem right. Also, if its as in-the-middle-of-nowhere as Feyre claims, where the hell are they getting groceries and what kind of groceries are they selling

of course theres only ONE BED and its soooooo small oh noooo do you guys think theyre gonna have sex or what

Oh and of course Feyre cant demand that Rhysand sleep on the floor because its too small to even do that theyre gonna have the wildest sex, and by wildest sex I mean theyre both gonna squeeze each other into the bed under the comically small ceiling of this broomcloset of a room and lay on top of each other without moving like a sandwhch made out of just faemeat

I feel like a cape thats cut to fit around these bigass illyrian wings would lose a lot of its functionality tbh, unless it was like, a wrapping for the wings to protect them from the cold, but I dont think thats the case with Rhysand's cape, i think it either just has holes or is some kind of weird shape, but I feel like if your in these harsh winter winds, having a cape fluttering around your wings would be pretty distracting considering how sensitive supposedly they are

WAIT. do we count this cape as a new Rhys-outfit or do we not. Im on the fence because on one hand, he's just wearing it with his usual illyrian leathers and its really just an accessoire, like I wouldnt count what he wore in the CoN as a new outfit just because he wore a crown with his black tunic, but on the other hand, I feel like a cape can really drastically alter the look of an outfit in a way most other acessoires cant. let me know what you think

of COURSE feyre would call the hypothetical painting she would make of Rhysand 'Death on Fast Wings' im gonna commit a crime

'"I love it when you look at me like that. [...] Like there's no reason to run away from my power. Like you're looking at me."' Does this imply that Rhysand identifies with the descriptor 'death on fast wings' because idk that seems weird. then again, he is a weirdo

Rhysand's pronouns are death/incarnate <- thought that popped into my head while I was writing the previous bullet point

By far the worst part about this book are all the sections where Feyre will just suck Rhysand off for a paragraph, she would not fucking say that

'"No, [you weren't afraid of me]. You were nervous, but you weren't afraid. I've felt pure fear often enough that I know the difference. Maybe that's why I couldn't leave you alone."' god, rhysand is such a creepy little freak. and not the good kind either

Feyre is being all like "oh, sure, the bed isnt small but we couldnt possibly both sleep in it without completely getting into each other's personal space, especially with his wings" girl??? tell him to put those thangs away???

god this paragraph is so annoying 'Fae-men were possessive, dominant and arrogant but the men of the Spring Court had a certain disregard [for my wishes] laying beneath the the surface' my brother in christ you have been in two and a half (2 1/2) courts and you know seven (7) fae-men personally

Also, this part where Feyre is like "if I was wasting away and Rhysand just stood by without doing anything about it, Cassian and Azriel would've gotten involved and given him a piece of their minds" is so funny knowing whats gonna happen in acosf, like no they fucking wouldnt! what are you talking about!

Oh man it just occurred to me. this is the chapter where Feyre finds out theyre mates isnt it. Or like, this part whre theyre at this inn is when she finds out, Im pretty sure itll last for multiple chapters

"[Rhysand] saw right through Ianthe the moment he met her." yeah because she broke into his bedroom and sexually harassed him and just outright told him that she wanted to have his children for the sake of power ?? I would hope he would see through that

I feel like theres been this pattern in this book of Feyre only being able to compliment Rhys in contrast with Tamlin and its very strange because you would think that after speedrunning their relationship development and spending about 500 pages worth of time with him, she would be able to point out some of his positives without immediately connecting them to her ex's negatives, but I guess thats too much to ask of this ROMANCE

Like, I forgot if this was something Feyre already said or if this is still coming up but I know theres a point in this book where she's like "I think I just loved Tamlin pre-UTM because I was so broken and traumatized from my shitty homelife that I fell for the first person to show me some kindness" and that is not how their relationship felt in ACOTAR at all atleast in my opinion, but that definitely is how Feysand feels in this book

I really hate it when male characters are described as having "hard muscles" it sounds so unpleasant. im saying this primarily as someone who likes to read about characters cuddling and prefers it when theyre soft for that, but even if we're just talking smut, does having sex with a "hard" guy sound pleasant to you? or, well. you know what i mean

!! NEW RHYS-OUTFIT DROPPED !! hes wearing wide thin pants (even though theyre sleeping in an ice cold broom closet) and a tight cotton shirt, both of unspecified color

Oh yeah, Rhysand is just sooooooo powerful you guys, he needs to constantly use his magic otherwise itll just take him over and turn him into the joker

'Everyone at his Court had a use, some kind of great ability. And here I was, a strange, unpredictable hybrid that was more trouble than it's worth.' girl you are literally fae jesus what the hell are you talking about

Maybe Im just in a bad mood but this part where Rhys n Feyre are telling each other about how they would tear the world apart if they were ever forcefully seperated is so deeply annoying to me

Im not gonna translate the shit Rhysand just said to Feyre, tldr he thinks shes hot and wants to fuck her but the room is too small for that woe is him, and ughhhh. Im struggling to explain this in a way that doesnt make me sound puritanical, but something about the horniness of their relationship makes it feel really gross to me, its not just the fact that this relationship is horny because I can very much enjoy a horny fictional relationship sometimes, but the horny relationships that I usually enjoy are like, warm and pleasant from the eroticism of it all, Feysand is just kinda gross and sticky to me

Feyre's negative self-talk in regards to her feelings for Rhysand and Tamlin feels so forced, like cmon man, you keep talking about how much Tamlin sucks ass and how much better Rhys is for you how are you still experiencing any kind of inner conflict about this

Also, Feyre talking about how she was constantly thinking about Rhysand even before she left the spring court is just, a lie. does SJM not expect her readers to remember anything

Now theyre spooning and Feyre is stroking his wings and Rhysand is humping her and its like, this isnt sexy to me this is just kinda weird

bro how come Ive never seen anyone talk about Rhysand being like "I love your boobs so much, oh, you dont even know how much I love them" thats so funny

The rest of this chapter was just Rhysand fingering Feyre and honestly, it wasnt too bad, with the extreme proximity and him warming her up I can see why some people would find it hot but idk. its still a sjm smut scene and its german which makes it pretty unpleasant for me

#anti acotar #anti acomaf #anti sjm #anti feysand #flames and darkness liveblog

[worldserasingandcreatinginmymind]

Bloody Beetle | Part Three

Summary: a conversation with Harrow decides your fate

Pairing: this chapter is mostly Arthur Harrow x Reader

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: Manipulative Harrow/Lying Harrow. a LOT of artistic interpretation on Harrow’s abilities...

A/N: So sorry its been a year since I updated this story but im fully back on the Moon Knight hype right now and I actually have part four written, part five half written and the rest of this story *mostly* planned out! For the purposes of this story, lets just pretend Harrow has the ability to give people strength or make them need to sleep... As always, spelling and grammar are not my strongest skills so please be kind :)

Part Two | Series Masterlist 

- - - - -

Nothing.

The first thing you notice when you wake up is that you feel nothing. No aches, no pain, no shortness of breath. Before you fell asleep you felt so weak, you weren’t sure you would even make it thought the night. And now here you are feeling better than you did before Harrow made you ill.

You get out of bed and go straight to the door. To your surprise it opens. You half expected Harrow to have locked you in here. But then he probably thought you were still too ill to move.

This is your chance to escape.

You open the door as quietly as possible and try to remember the route back to the exit. The floorboards creak under your feet and you freeze, listening to hear if anyone is coming after you. You only hear silence so you continue.

Eventually you make it back to the communal area you had walked through yesterday, only now it is completely empty. It’s still night. Everyone must be asleep. You spot the exit ahead of you and your heart skips. This is it. You're free. Free to go to Steven.

But wait; Steven left you here.

Or did he? What if Harrow was lying? What if Steven is trapped here too?

You stare ahead at the exit, take a breath and turn away. Away from your chance at freedom.

Steven said he would find you. He promised. He wouldn’t just leave you here.

Which means he must be in trouble.

You have to find Steven.

You head back into the communal area, a huge stone walled courtyard with half crumbled arches and mismatched furniture. You pass the selection of random armchairs, all facing towards a giant screen. Past the shelves covered in various items, boxes and books. Past the tables and chairs and the small kitchen area. You reach the end of the room and as your about to start climbing up one of the sets of wooden stairs…

“You intrigue me, Y/N.” Harrows voice comes from the archway behind you. You turn around to see him step out into the light, his eyes fixed on you. “You could have left. The doors are open, there’s no one here to stop you and yet you didn’t leave. Why?”

“Did you want me to leave?”

“Oh no. Quite the opposite, I’m actually glad you decided to stay. What I do want is to know why?”

“Where’s Steven?” You ignore his question.

“Ah.” He says, nodding with understanding. “You believe he’s still here.”

“I know he’s here.”

“What makes you sure?”

“He wouldn’t abandon me.”

“No you're quite right. I can’t imagine Steven Grant would do such a thing.” He pauses. “But Marc Spector did.”

“I don’t know what you're getting at, but I already know all about Marc. Steven told me everything.”

“What exactly did he tell you?���

“The truth. He said he didn’t fully understand it himself but there’s this other person, Marc, living inside of him and that he is basically the reason Steven’s life has been falling apart. Sometimes Marc takes over the body and does things… are you saying that Marc took over and forced Steven to leave me here?”

“Let’s take a seat.” He moves over to the closest table, sitting down and gesturing for you to sit opposite him.

You stare at him for a moment, watching as he leans his cane against his chair and places his hands on the table in front of him. He looks back up at you again then back to the empty chair. You sigh as you pull out the chair and sit opposite him with your arms folded across your chest, leaning back away to create distance between the two of you.

“Steven Grant doesn’t exist.” He starts and you look at him confused. “Marc Spector created this Steven persona and ran away to England in an attempt to escape the many sins of his past. He is a very bad man Y/N, he has done some terrible things. He was a mercenary. He killed a lot of people and got in a lot of trouble. That is why he made up Steven. He pretended to be someone else just so he could hide. But it wasn’t real. His gentle personality. His job at the museum. His friendship with you-”

“No-”

“-It was all an act Y/N, and I am so very sorry to have to tell you that. Truly I am.”

“Just stop-”

“I know how much you cared for this Steven-”

“You're lying!”

“You're feeling better now, yes?”

“What?”

“You're alive, you feel no more pain. Why do you think that is?” He reaches into his pocket and pulls something out, placing on the table in the middle of you both. “He gave me this.”

It’s the scarab beetle.

“He gave me this and told me to keep it. And you.” Harrow explains, a false sympathetic look on his face. “He told me he has no use for either of you anymore.”

You can’t take your eyes off the golden beetle in front of you. Your heart sinking further and further with every second as you take in what Harrow is telling you.

“I know this is a lot to process Y/N but there is one more thing I must tell you. You are free to leave if that is what you wish-”

“Great!” You get up out your seat and start to walk away.

“But I really think you should stay.”

“Why the hell would I do that?!”

“Because if you leave you will become weak again and you will die.” He states, making you stop and turn back.

“What?! No, he gave you the scarab and now I’m okay, that was the deal.”

“An error on my part.” He stands, taking a step towards you. “I failed to mention that in order to keep you alive Ammit must restore your strength every day. Through direct contact with me.”

“You..? How?”

“A simple touch of my hand.”

You remember him last night, placing his hand on your head right before you fell asleep.

“You healed me last night?” More of a statement than a question.

“I did.” He takes another step closer to you.

“But you told me Steven had left with the scarab. Why did you lie to me?”

“I was trying to protect you, protect your feelings. I knew you weren’t strong enough for the hurt that the truth would cause.”

“And you think I’m strong enough for it now?” you scoff and he reaches his hand out to hold yours.

“You are stronger than you know Y/N.” He locks eyes with you, his bright blue eyes almost staring into your soul. “Ammit sees something special in you. That is why she’s allowing you to live.”

You shake him off, taking a step back as you gather yourself. You take a breath.

“So either I stay as a prisoner for the rest of my life or go out there and die? Are those really my only options?”

“You're not a prisoner, Y/N, there are no locked doors. No guards forcing you to stay. You could live a happy life with us.”

You think for a moment.

“Or option three; I leave, go live my own life in my own home and then I’ll just come back here every day so you can top up the life support.”

“That won’t work I’m afraid. I move around a lot from place to place, there is no way of knowing exactly where I will be from one day to the next. The safest option for you is to join me.” He pauses. “Join us.”

He raises his arms out to the side as small groups of disciples begin emerging from the doorways and shadows, all facing you. The way they’re all looking at you makes you feel uneasy.

“Just to be clear, if I agree to stay with you that does not mean I’m on your side. It’s purely self preservation, okay? I am not helping you find Ammit. I will not help you murder innocent people. Got that?” Arthur nods. “Good.”

“Good.” he echos, smiling.

“Okay. So what happens now?”

“Now, we go to Cairo.”

Part Four

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