#I have gone to exactly one class this week because I somehow slept through all the others

[moldyfloorboards]

Can I get a refund on this "being alive" bullshit

[cherienymphe]

Stranger Beside Me (Steve Rogers x Reader)

WARNINGS: NON-CON, forced pregnancy, mentions of abortion, toxic relationships, domestic abuse, I don’t know if I’ve ever written anything this angsty in my life

DNI IF THIS OFFENDS YOU

Here is the long awaited boyfriend!Steve fic.

summary: you and Steve have the perfect relationship, and you want to keep it that way. It’s why he can never discover your secrets, but your secrets wouldn’t even exist if it weren’t for his own.

~

The first time you got pregnant, you had never been more disappointed with yourself in your life. Not even failing a major class during college had made you feel as bad as you did when you were staring at that little plastic stick, trying and desperately failing to convince yourself that you were just seeing double. How could you be so careless? How crazy it was to think that a small insignificant piece of plastic could change your mood and life so drastically.

You had sat down on the toilet and remained there for hours. So many thoughts were swirling in your head, possibilities that you didn’t even want to entertain but you found yourself doing so anyway. Eventually, you came to a conclusion that was easy to say: you weren’t ready for a baby. Admitting and accepting that wasn’t hard at all. The hard part was the question that followed. 

What were you going to do about it?

You had struggled with that particular part for days, and you were grateful more than ever that Steve was on a mission. You knew what he would do if he found out, what he would say, and it was an argument you were unprepared to have. You weren’t ready to break his heart like that and face the possibility that this could be the end for you.

Steve Rogers, Captain America himself, was the best boyfriend anyone could ask for. You were Pepper’s stylist, hired for special events, and having been in town for a company party thrown by Tony Stark himself, that was where you met Steve. The attraction was mutual, but you were a woman of the world, constantly jetting off to whatever celebrity needed you at the moment. A stationary girl trying to have a relationship with a superhero would be hard enough, let alone one whose feet never remained on the ground.

And that was what you told the blond avenger after the second time he slept over at your place. The first time, a week after the party, was only meant to be a one time thing. At least, that was your impression, but Steve liked you, and no matter how much you pretended you didn’t, you liked him too. Before you knew it, you were leading him into your apartment for a second time, mouth starved and hands searching. 

He was the most attentive lover you’d ever been with, touching you like you were nothing less than fine china, desperate for the taste of you on his lips. He held you like he was afraid to break you, and considering that the man was a super soldier, you understood that, but still. His touch, combined with the way he looked at you, made you feel like you were literally the only woman in the whole world. It was intense.

“I know,” he had sighed, staring up at the ceiling as you looked at him. “You just...make me feel so comfortable.”

You had frowned, never considering that. After all, this was only the second time you’d slept together. 

“I do?”

He turned to look at you, a small smile on his pink lips, blue eyes sparkling.

“Of course.”

You rolled over onto your stomach, resting on your forearms as he continued, watching as he reached out to brush a finger over the skin of your back.

“You don’t look at me like a superhero, but instead just some guy who is really great in bed.”

You let out a sheepish chuckle, dropping your head, and he joined you.

“Don’t feel bad. It’s surprisingly refreshing. It makes me feel like I have room to...be less than perfect,” he murmured.

Your eyes met his then, and despite the words never escaping his lips, they were front and center in his eyes, and you sighed.

“We would never work, Steve,” you whispered, surprised at how disappointed you sounded. “You’re always off saving the world, and I’m always off dressing it.”

He didn’t respond right away, mulling over what you said.

“Maybe that’s exactly why it would work,” he said, surprising you.

You frowned a bit before raising an eyebrow at him, curious as to how he came to that conclusion.

“I’ve tried to date. God knows I’ve tried to find a girl who wants Steve Rogers and not just the face of America…”

Steve sounded sad, maybe even a bit bitter.

“...but nevermind the fact that they only see the suit and shield, they’re always left to their cozy lifestyle while I'm off saving the world. They’re always waiting around for me, eating dinners alone, sleeping alone. Having a superhero boyfriend is never what they think it will be, never worth it, and while the breakup is expected, I still feel bad.”

Your heart clenched, and you found yourself scooting closer to him. He wrapped his big arm around you, pulling you into his chest, and his whole face shifted. He smiled at you, eyes hopeful.

“...but you? You’re running around the world almost as much as I am. By the time you even have time to miss me, I’ll already be there, and if not…”

He trailed off, but he didn’t need to say it. Your lifestyle wasn’t exactly compatible with a relationship. At least, not a conventional one anyway. Spending nights alone was normal for you, and having a boyfriend that wasn’t there half the time would hardly impact your lifestyle. 

You slowly returned his smile.

“Okay, Rogers. Maybe this could work.”

And work it did. 2 years and 7 months later, and the two of you were happier than ever. Tony was surprised that Steve found a girl who stuck around, and Pepper was surprised that you’d found someone who convinced you to settle down. You simply told her that Steve had made a convincing argument, but the truth was that Steve was genuinely the perfect boyfriend. You two talked whenever you could, and he had been right. By the time you even had time to miss him, he was somehow always there, knocking on the door of your apartment, doing so until he upgraded to waltzing through the door of your shared apartment. 

Steve treated you like a queen, constantly making you question how you got so lucky. He always kissed you like it was going to be the last time, and he made love to you like he was personally trying to drive you crazy with pleasure. You loved him, you loved him, you loved him. You had even told him first, and he had been sad because he had wanted to tell you first for a long time, and that made you sad. So you let him tell you, and then you said it back, and he’d made love to you like he never had before, and it was there, coming undone in his arms, that you told him you loved him again and again and again.

That was why he couldn’t find out you were pregnant. It would start an argument that would ruin you, ruin everything. Steve was hardly home, and you were no different, and while it was never a problem before, it was no environment to raise a baby in. This was the truth. This made sense. Your doctor agreed, and while Steve was off saving the world on an early weekday morning, you were doing what you felt was right.

The 2nd time you got pregnant, you weren’t just disappointed at your carelessness again, but you were also angry. It was no secret that Steve wanted a baby, probably since the first moment he saw you. You always noticed the way he looked at families, the way he smiled and waved at awestruck children. The man had probably come out of the womb ready to be a father, and you loved that about him. And it wasn’t like you didn’t want children too, you certainly did, but just not anytime soon.

You still had a thriving career, and so did he, and neither one of you seemed ready to give that up in the near future. A baby required sacrifice, and you weren’t ready for that yet, and if the way Steve readily took on missions was anything to by, neither was he. You knew that if he found out, he would fight to convince you to keep it, and you would fight to convince him that neither one of you were ready. Like before, you thought to yourself that it would start an argument that could very well be the end for you.

That was where the anger came in.

Why did you keep doing this? How did you keep doing this? Both of you had always been safe, never going without a condom, but after the first pregnancy, you had even gone on birth control too, paranoid and determined to be more responsible. Yet, here you were, pregnant again. You knew what this would do to your relationship, so how could you be so negligent again? It was as if you were subconsciously trying to ruin everything and you hated yourself for it.

Steve had not been away on a mission this time, and you immediately took all of the garbage out under the guise of cleaning the house. He seemed far more attentive that night than usual, but it could have just as easily been your own paranoia. His mouth covered yours in a heated kiss as he pressed his hips to yours, pulling a moan from you.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he murmured into your mouth, pulling back before sliding into you again. 

Your legs were tight around his waist, and his hands were tight on yours. The only thing that filled the room was the sound of heavy moans and harsh breathing, occasionally interrupted by whatever Steve chose to say. It never not surprised you how much Steve enjoyed talking to you in bed. Praising you, degrading you, teasing you. He enjoyed making you squirm from more than just his cock.

“You know what would make you even more beautiful? Radiant?”

“What?” you breathed, hands running through his hair.

“A baby,” he mumbled, lips ghosting over your chin, making you freeze.

At first you thought that maybe he knew. Although there was no logical explanation for thinking that, you’d been very careful, you couldn’t help it. Your heart picked up the pace, but then you realized that Steve was just being Steve. He had mentioned children in passing, but it was done in the way that you mentioned children. Always in a future tense. It had never been like this, so straightforward and with a sense of urgency. 

He wanted a baby now.

“Come on,” you chuckled, trying to brush him off, attempting to press your lips against his.

He moved out of your reach, and you tried not to let it show how much you were bothered by this conversation. His blue eyes searched yours, a faint smile on his face as he hovered over you.

“I’m serious. Think about how beautiful you’d be, round and glowing with my child,” he continued, finally kissing you.

His hips snapped into yours, more force behind his thrusts, like the idea of you swollen with his child was the biggest turn on. You never even got a chance to truly voice your displeasure, a moaning and quivering mess until you finally came around him. Once your heart finally settled, you laid there, thinking about the fact that Steve wanted a baby now despite the fact that neither of your lifestyles could accommodate one. 

When he came back to bed after disposing of the condom, he pulled you into his arms, and you settled against him. He pressed his face into your hair, breathing you in, and you closed your eyes, feeling like the worst girlfriend in the world.

“I can’t wait til we never have to buy those again,” he whispered.

Your heart clenched, and you forced yourself to go to sleep by listing every reason you could think of as to why you were doing the right thing. A week later, Steve kissed you goodbye in the early hours of the morning before he had to leave on another mission. 2 hours later, you were in a doctor’s office doing what you felt was best.

The 3rd time you got pregnant, you were no longer disappointed. Not even angry, but just confused. You were leaning against the closed door of your bathroom, once again staring at that little piece of plastic with nothing but confusion. You were as careful as you could possibly be. After the 2nd pregnancy, you always triple checked to make sure that you never forgot your birth control. You made sure that the house was always stocked with condoms.

You didn’t understand it.

You had been startled by a knock on the door, and you hurriedly rushed to get rid of the test. You hadn’t realized how long you’d been in the bathroom, and Steve had started to get worried. At least, that was what he told you through the door.

“Are you okay?”

What a loaded question. Were you okay? Here you were, pregnant for the third time within a year and you couldn’t figure out how. Of course, it was obvious as to how, but it should have been very unlikely. You knew that condoms, even when paired with birth control, weren’t going to be 100% effective. You were an adult with common sense. That you understood. One unplanned pregnancy wasn’t the most ridiculous thing in the world. Shit happens.

Two within the same year still wasn’t absolutely crazy, but it was a little mind bending when you were more than careful.

But three? Three was concerning.

You opened the bathroom door with a soft smile, nodding at Steve as you stepped out.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

He looked like he didn’t quite believe you, but being the great boyfriend that he was, he didn’t press you further.

“Okay. Breakfast is on the table. Come eat?” he offered, holding out his hand.

You took it and allowed him to lead you to the dining room. Breakfast was as it always was. Steve told you about the last mission he’d just gotten back from only days ago, and you told him about the latest celebrity going through a meltdown over a dress. You enjoyed these talks with Steve, these moments with just the two of you, and you weren’t ready to alter that in any way. Not yet. 

Sometimes you felt like the worst girlfriend in the world, wondering if you were being selfish for wanting it to remain just the two of you for a little while longer. You adored children, but having them wasn’t just some hobby. You would no longer be able to put yourself first, and with so much of your life still ahead of you, you weren’t ready to stop being selfish.

And that was okay.

What wasn’t okay was the lies. No matter how you tried to spin it, no matter how many justifications you made, you were lying to Steve. Perhaps in one of the worst ways possible. Sometimes you felt like you should tell him, but what purpose would it serve? Nothing could be done about the past, and he’d only end up hating you. That was what you were really afraid of. Having Steve stare at you like he didn’t even know who you were.

But you knew how Steve could be. How clouded his mind could get when it came to children and starting a family. The man enjoyed a simple life. He was nostalgic for what he felt he missed out on, and while there was nothing wrong with that, you knew that he wasn’t going to hang up the shield for it. Just like you weren’t going to put your career on pause for it, and you had no intentions of just letting some stranger raise your child. 

You knew that neither one of you were willing to sacrifice in order to raise a baby in the proper environment. That was why during breakfast, as you held Steve’s hand while you two talked and ate, you decided to go through with it for a third time.

The first time had been hard. You kept second guessing everything. You knew that it was the right thing to do, but was it the right thing to do without telling Steve? Without getting his input? Without even giving him the chance to love this baby before you snatched it away? Your body, your choice right? But was it really that black and white? Was any of this fair to him? 

The second time had been easier. You still hadn’t felt any better about it, but at least you weren’t going through an internal crisis. At least you knew what to expect, because that had been the most nerve wracking part, fear of the unknown. Afterwards, your mood wasn’t as sullen for as long as it was after the first time. You had moved past it fairly quickly, but after all, you had been sure it would be the final time. 

The third time wasn’t anything like that. The guilt still ate away at you, but it seemed more like a standard doctor’s visit. A routine checkup. That was what you told Steve it was. He had offered to take you, but you had declined, and he had sent you off with a lingering kiss. You went to get some coffee from Starbucks afterwards.

The months that followed were filled with the usual bliss that surrounded your relationship. You two went to Tony’s parties, occasionally hung out at the compound with the rest of the team, and Steve took you out whenever he was home. Despite your relationship ruining secrets, everything was perfect.

Almost.

“Everytime you come to one of my little soirees, I keep expecting to see you 4 months pregnant,” Tony said, making you bark a laugh.

Steve only chuckled, and you squeezed his hand, sending him a soft smile. The baby talk had increased as of late, but truthfully, it had been gradually increasing for pretty much a year. If it hadn’t been obvious before, it was now. Steve was ready to have children, and while it had been a topic that was only thrown into conversation here and there, you found yourself skimming over the subject at least once a week these days.

Surely you would get to a point where a serious discussion about it would be unavoidable. Steve loved you, and you were sure that you could talk him into waiting. After all, it wasn’t like you would be saying you never wanted kids. Just not now.

“I’m serious. All ‘Capsicle’ here talks about is kids. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think the two of you had been trying for months,” the dark-haired man continued, taking a sip of his drink.

He was throwing his annual holiday party tonight, always placed in between Christmas and New Year’s, despite the fact that he threw parties on those days too. You just thought that Tony liked any excuse to party and drink.

“Sadly no,” Steve said, his tone surprising you. “We’re still just enjoying each other as much as we can. Right?”

He looked at you, and your smile faltered a bit, but you nodded. That was what you always told him whenever the topic came up. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say that Steve sounded bitter, upset even. You turned away from him, taking a sip of your champagne with a frown. You suddenly wondered if he knew, but that was easily dismissed. If Steve knew that you had secretly aborted 3 of his children, you’d be on the receiving end of more than just a strained smile and a passive aggressive tone. 

You worried that tonight would be the night where you’d have the big talk, where you’d have to come out and tell Steve to give you more time. It was wild to think that even though there was nothing wrong with waiting to have kids, you felt horrible about asking Steve to do so. Maybe it was because he’s so sweet? Or because he’s literally never asked you for anything else? Or maybe it was because you had deprived him of what he wanted three times over and the guilt was getting to you.

However, you weren’t able to do that. You hadn’t even realized that you had started to sway until the glass in your hand hit the floor, shattering upon impact. Steve had only a second to turn towards you before you were collapsing in his waiting arms. Against your will, you succumbed to darkness.

When you woke up, you were in the compound. You had been in the infirmary a handful of times so it was recognizable almost immediately. Nat was there when you woke up, and she sent you a small nervous smile.

“Well, hello sleepyhead. You gave us all quite the scare,” she murmured.

You hummed, briefly shutting your eyes as you pressed your hand to your head.

“Sorry. What...what happened?”

“You fainted,” she said, handing you the glass of water that was beside the bed.

You gratefully took it, gulping it down, surprised at how thirsty you were. You thanked her when you handed it back to her and was just about to ask her where Steve was when he strode through the door. His lips were pressed together, and you worried that he’d worried about you, but the sparkle in his eyes betrayed him, and you frowned.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Nat said before making to leave. “Take care of her, Steve.”

He was at your side just as the door shut behind her, and your frown deepened when a blinding smile spread over his lips. You were confused as he took your hand, keeping his lips there as he kissed it.

“Steve…?”

He shook his head.

“Sorry,” he said, sitting down next to you on the bed, facing you as he held your hand. 

The other reached out to brush over your cheek and across your jaw. Despite your confusion, you placed your hand on his, blinking at him, a bit unnerved by the look in his eye. 

You hadn’t seen that look since before you two officially became a couple.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Everything is more than okay.”

He leaned in to press his lips against yours, soft and loving, and you kissed him back. When he pulled away, he looked at you like you were the most precious thing he’d ever seen, like you’d break with one touch.

“You’re pregnant,” he told you.

Your lips parted as his words washed over you, and you struggled to find something to say.

“...what?”

He repeated it with a smile, kissing you again before pulling you into a hug, one you did not return. Everything after that was a blur. Tony came in to make sure everything was fine. Dr. Cho said you were 4 weeks along is what he told you. He’d offered his congratulations, Steve took you home and wasted no time before wrapping his arms around you.

His touch was gentle throughout the night, but it lingered as if he never wanted to stop touching you. You don’t know how many times he made you come around him, but Steve didn’t seem to care about your exhaustion. With his lips constantly attached to your skin, he only cared about getting drunk off the taste of you. You let him have you as much as he wanted. You let him rejoice in this, because it was the least you could do before you broke his heart. 

He was awake in the morning before you, and the smell of breakfast cooking made your stomach growl. Gratefully, you didn’t seem to have any morning sickness, but your stomach still twisted from something entirely different as you made your way to the kitchen. Steve looked like anyone’s dream as he stood there in a fitted t-shirt and pajamas, pushing food onto a plate for you.

“Morning,” you mumbled.

He looked up and approached you with a smile, pressing a kiss to your lips as he returned your greeting.

“Go sit down. I’ll bring you your food,” he told you.

Reluctantly, you did so. You were quiet as he joined you, and you started nibbling on your food.

“Sweetheart,” he scolded at the action. “You’re eating for two now. You need to eat all of it.”

He was right, and under different circumstances you would do as he encouraged, but there was no point in putting this off.

“Steve, I don’t want to have this baby.”

You hadn’t mean to say it so bluntly, but there was no easy way to say it. There was no sense in hesitating. Steve froze almost immediately, and you reluctantly met his eyes as he stared at you. He rested his forearms on the table, a small frown on his face. He looked equal parts floored and confused and hurt, and you sighed.

“...what?”

“We’re not ready,” you whispered.

Steve scoffed, shaking his head at you.

“Of course, we are,” he argued.

“So you’re ready to give up being Captain America?” you asked him.

He hesitated, and you nodded.

“...exactly. You’re not, and that’s okay, and I would never ask you to, but that’s what's going to be required if we’re going to start a family now. You like doing what you do, and I like doing what I do. Neither one of us are ready to put a stop to any of it, at least not for the time being.”

“To be fair, I save lives. There will always be some Hollywood starlet who needs a dress or the latest shoes,” he replied.

“Excuse me?” you scoffed, looking at him like he’d slapped you.

He suddenly huffed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he eventually said. “I’m just saying that putting that on hold for a few years will hardly impact you. You can always pick it up again like you never left.”

“And why am I the one who has to sacrifice, Steve? You aren’t the only superhero-!”

“Hey, hey, I’m sorry,” he cut you off as your voice started to rise, reaching for your hand.

He brushed his thumb along the back in what was meant to be a soothing getsure, but you were still a bit heated at the way he’d diminished your career. 

“I’m sorry, okay? I just… I know that it’s going to be difficult-.”

“It’s going to be more than difficult. We’re talking about a baby! Both of us need to be here,” you told him.

He heaved a sigh, staring at you.

“So what are you saying?”

“I’m saying that I don’t want to have a baby right now. Maybe in a few years, sure, but neither one of us are willing to sacrifice.”

You watched as his jaw ticked, eyes narrowing just a bit as he considered your words.

“So what does that mean?”

You crossed your arms over your chest as you leaned back, avoiding his eye.

“Y/N?”

“Steve-.”

“What the hell are you saying?”

You flinched, not used to Steve cursing, and you knew that he was angry. This very conversation was what you had tried so hard to prevent, and once again, you were cursing yourself for your negligence. How on earth did you manage to get pregnant again?

You stood from the table, trying to put off this fight for five more minutes, the same fight you’d been trying to prevent for a year. You and Steve hardly ever fought, but when you did, it was for the silliest of things. Things you’d both look back on and laugh at.

Not this.

You heard Steve follow you, and his grip on your wrist was hard as he pulled you to a halt. You spun around to face him like he’d lost his mind. You tried to get out of his hold, but he wasn’t budging. He knew what you were implying, what you planned to do, and he was angrier than you’d ever seen him.

“This is my decision,” you quietly told him, making his eyes darken. “You don’t have to agree with it, you don’t even have to like it, but you can’t make me go through with this pregnancy. Neither one of us are ready.”

“So I get no say?”

He tilted his head at you, and you blinked away tears.

“I don’t want this right now, Steve. I don’t, and I’m not going to change my mind, so what do you suggest we do?”

His face softened a bit, and he stepped closer.

“Let’s give it a try. Don’t put your career on hold, okay? We’ll try to make it work-.”

He cut himself off as you started to shake your head.

“No. I’m not going to take a gamble with our child’s livelihood. There should be no ‘trying to make it work’. When you bring a baby into this world, everyone involved should be 100% on board. Things need to start moving into place to accommodate that child. This is not how it should be.”

Steve swallowed, nostrils flaring as you argued, and you sighed again. The silence that followed was heavy, thick with tension and anger and an impending sense of doom. You loved Steve, but not enough to force yourself into having a baby for him. Your chest ached, and you wanted to cry.

“If...if this means that you don’t want to be with me anymore, then I understand, but… I’m not having this baby.”

He let you go, crossing his arms over his chest, and you stood there, waiting for the verdict. His tongue poked at the inside of his cheek, jaw moving as he grinded his teeth.

“We’re not breaking up.”

He continued before you could feel an ounce of relief.

“...and you’re not getting rid of my child.”

You rolled your eyes, swallowing another sigh as you rubbed your forehead.

“Steve-.”

“Do you hear me? You are not getting rid of my child,” he spat.

He stepped closer, and you found yourself narrowing your eyes at him.

“I went through a great deal of trouble to make sure you got pregnant in the first place, and you think I’m just going to let you get rid of it? Let all of it be in vain?”

His words sucked the air out of you, and your eyes widened as the gravity of them fully hit you. Your mouth parted, but no words came out because what could you say? You couldn’t even describe the shock and horror and disgust that tore through you in that moment, and you slowly took a step back from him.

You raised your hands in front of you as your mind whirled, eyes focused on the floor as you blinked. His confession finally put things into perspective. His words put the pieces together, and your breathing grew shallow as you processed the truth.

“I knew it.”

Your words were barely a whisper, but Steve heard you nonetheless, and you took another step back when he walked towards you.

“I knew it. I knew it. I knew it,” you quietly chanted to yourself.

That was the only thing running through your mind. Had your love for Steve allowed you to ignore what was right in front of you? You were diligent with your contraceptive, so so many pregnancies in such a short time had never made sense. You kept blaming yourself despite what was so obvious. Sure, Steve was family obsessed, but you had never considered the possibility. Or did you simply never want to?

You looked up at him like he was a stranger, vision blurry from your tears, and you shook your head.

“I knew it,” you cried. “I fucking knew it.”

Steve’s eyes were narrowed, and his head was cocked to the side, something in his eyes that scared you. 

“I kept wondering and wondering how it kept happening. How did I keep getting pregnant? It made no sense,” you said, more to yourself than him. “...and everytime...I felt bad. I felt like such a horrible girlfriend, and the whole time…”

You yelped when Steve’s hand made its way to your neck, pushing your back into the wall. His blue eyes were dark and venomous, a thunderous look on his beautiful face.

“You killed them?”

You didn’t respond, opting instead for fighting against him, but he wouldn’t move.

“I knew you should’ve been pregnant a long time ago. I made sure of it! And here I was thinking I did something wrong, that I messed up-.”

“Get off of me!”

You didn’t want to hear anything else about his fucked up plan, about how long he’d been doing this. You wanted him off of you and away from you. He pulled you away from the wall before slamming you back against it, making you gasp. You reached up to his chest and neck, desperately trying to get him off, but he only pressed himself more firmly against you.

“Steve,” you begged.

“You don’t know how badly I want to hurt you right now for what you did,” he sneered.

Your heart sank, and you thought to yourself that his lack of self awareness was astounding. How long had Steve been this way? Had he always been like this? How was it possible that you didn’t know your boyfriend at all?

“...but I’m sure that I can look past your betrayal when you are swollen and glowing with my child. That will make it all worth it.”

He kissed you, hard, and you screamed into his mouth. His hands pushed at the t-shirt you were wearing, his shirt, and your hands pushed at him. He lifted you until your thighs were on either side of his hips, and the sound of your hands hitting his skin filled the room. The food was barely thought about as he pressed your back to the table, pinning you down.

You were more terrified than you were five minutes ago, knowing what was about to happen no matter how much you wished you were wrong. Steve Rogers, Captain America himself, your boyfriend, was about to rape you and force you to keep his baby. It was a sentence you had the hardest time accepting, and all of your overwhelming emotions spilled over, turning you into a sobbing mess.

Did you really miss this, or was he just so good at hiding who he truly was? 

Your hits were doing nothing as he reached between you, struggling to release himself with all of your movement. His free hand grabbed both of yours, holding them to your stomach just as he pushed into you. You threw your head back and cried, wondering how you got here. To think, you had thought that you were so lucky. You had thought that you were a terrible girlfriend for what you had been doing. Life was funny that way.

Your body had grown to crave Steve’s. He’d learned how to condition you so well that your core immediately started to clench around him with every thrust. You hated it, and you turned your head away, not wanting to witness him taint something that had never been anything but loving for you. His lips were on your jaw, searching for yours, and you tried to push against his hand.

With his other hand now free, he used them both to pin yours down beside you, lips finally finding yours despite your evident protest. You kept turning your head away, and he kept following. He tasted the inside of your mouth, hips pressing into yours over and over. The table beneath you shook from the force, and your stomach clenched with the pleasure that he was forcing onto you.

How did he do it? Clearly he’d poked a hole in every condom, but you knew it required more than that. Had he replaced your birth control with placebos? Had he acted alone? Tony had just about everything known to man at his disposal. Had he been in on it too?

“You’re going to look so beautiful,” he whispered into your mouth.

Another sob hit you, and you shook.

“You’re going to be absolutely radiant, and you’ll be just as beautiful when you walk down the aisle.”

You gasped at this, increasing your struggle, but he simply pulled your wrists away from the table before slamming them down. You winced in pain, and he hummed.

“...and I’ll fill you up again and again and again.”

You kicked your legs around him, body trembling as hysterical sobs left you, shuddering with every thrust into your dripping core. A particularly hard thrust pushed you over the edge, and the way you fluttered around him triggered his own climax. He came inside of you with a groan, wrapping his arms around you, preventing you from fighting back at all as he pinned your arms to your side.

His cock was still hard and still inside of you, his lips pressing kisses to your face. You felt like you were in a bad dream, and you wanted to wake up so badly. His lips traveled to your ear, brushing along the skin, and a shudder passed through you.

“Everyone will know that I tamed you, that I broke you until you were mine in every way.”

~

tags:  @darkficreposter​​​​ @xoxabs88xox​​​​ @harryspet​​​​ @readermia​​​​ @opheliadawnwalker3​​​ @nickyl316h​​​​ @captainchrisstan​​​​ @sebabestianstan101​​​​ @villanellevi​​​​ @lokislastlove​​​​ @notyourtypicalrose​​​​ @coconutqueen21​​​​ @hurricanerin​​​ @trinittyy​​​ @hyoyeoniie​​​ @kellyn1604​​​ @sherrybaby14​​​ @cocoamoonmalfoy​​ @mandiiblanche​​ @gotnofucks​​ @oneoftheprettynerds​​ @doozywoozy​​ @sapphirescrolls​​ @threeminutesoflife​​ @searchforanotherway​​ @mcudarklibrary​ @ksjksjkv​

[fridayfirefly]

Seeing Ghosts

Read Seeing Ghosts on AO3

Masterlist

For Maribat March Day 12 - Second Chance

For as long as she could remember, Marinette could see ghosts. It wasn't always the ghosts of strangers, though. Her ghost encounters started small. When Marinette was four years old, her parents told her that the family cat, Tikki, had left to live in the countryside. Marinette didn't understand, because Tikki still lived with them. Tikki still meowed for pets, still purred when Marinette pet her, still played with her favorite toy, the laser pointer that Marinette got for her last birthday. It wasn't until two weeks later, that Tom and Sabine sat Marinette down and explained to her that Tikki had died, that she needed to stop pretending that she was still there. Marinette was confused until she saw the way Tikki's paws batted right through her toys, the way she never ate the scraps that Marinette dropped on the floor. Marinette knew two things for sure: Tikki was dead and Marinette could still see her ghost.

For years and years, Tikki was the only ghost that Marinette saw. Then Marinette turned fourteen and Marinette could suddenly see.

They haunted the corners of her eyes, lurking in her periphery. They were just shadows, phantoms until Marinette focused her eyes, and then she could see them clear as day. Ghosts were real and Marinette could see them. Ghosts were real and they were everywhere, an inescapable reality for Marinette.

Quickly, the ghosts learned that Marinette could see them. They followed her around, lingering at the edge of her sight. She could hear them too, little whispers about the baker's daughter, the only person who could see them. However, none of the ghosts were bold enough to approach her. That was the status quo, until one day when Marinette came home from school one day to a ghost lurking in her room.

Marinette gasped as she saw the ghost sitting in the chair at her desk, staring at her with knowing blue eyes. He was her age, which made his brutal injuries all the more horrific to look at. His skull was caved in. His chest was mangled. His skin was shredded and burned. He had been beaten to death, tortured in his final moments.

"I've been told that you can see ghosts," the boy remarked, ignoring Marinette's shock entirely. He spoke in English instead of French, luckily Marinette's class had been learning both languages, so she was able to understand.

Marinette nodded, her throat suddenly unable to get a word out.

"You can hear ghosts, too. Can you bring them back to life?"

Marinette shook her head, clearing her throat as she began to speak in English, "I've never tried, but I don't think so."

"Could you try? For me?" pleaded the boy, the desperation in his expression breaking Marinette's heart.

"I don't even know you," said Marinette, trying to find a way to gently let the boy down. Seeing ghosts was one thing; bringing them back to life was another thing entirely.

"I'm Jason Todd." Jason stuck out his hand and Marinette tentatively shook it.

"Marinette Dupain-Cheng."

It wasn't until Marinette pulled her hand back that she realized that his hand - and now her's - was covered in blood. With a shriek of surprise, Marinette stumbled backward away from Jason. "What did you do?"

"What did I do? What did you do?"

"This has never happened before. Somehow my touch turned you corporeal enough for the blood on your hand to transfer to mine."

Jason glanced down at his hands. "Your fingers left prints in the blood. I've spent hours trying to wash the blood away for months, and you managed to do it by accident."

Marinette stared at her hands, the realization sinking in. Jason Todd was dead and his blood was on her hands. In the blink of an eye, Marinette was running to the bathroom to throw up. She thought she would be able to handle looking at the injuries of the dead, but Jason's wounds suddenly felt personal. Someone beat him to death, beat him until his bones broke and his skull caved him. Marinette heaved into the toilet, unable to cope with the violence of Jason's death.

When Marinette finally lifted her head, she saw Jason lingering at the door, looking guilty. "I'm sorry. I know that this is pretty graphic to look at." Jason gestured towards himself.

Marinette shook her head. "You don't have to apologize." After rinsing her mouth out until the taste of vomit was gone, Marinette turned to Jason. "Come here."

Jason approached her at the sink. With the water still running, Marinette took his hands and held them underneath the water. They both watched as the water turned red, then pink, then ran clear as all of the blood washed off Jason's hands. "Thank you," Jason whispered.

Marinette took a deep breath. "I can't make any promises, but I will do my best to bring you back."

--

Bringing the ghost of a human boy back to life seemed like an impossible task, so Marinette started small: with Tikki the ghost cat. It took two weeks of experimentation before Marinette realized that with enough meditation she could funnel some of her energy into Tikki's ghost. With Jason to help her take notes, Marinette began to figure out the ins-and-outs of resurrection.

The most difficult part was figuring out exactly how much energy Marinette could expend before it took a toll on her physical health. The very first time she gave Tikki energy, Marinette woke up the next morning with bruises littering her body. Tom and Sabine took Marinette to the doctor's where she was diagnosed with anemia and prescribed iron supplements. Jason was so concerned about Marinette's well-being that he refused to let her give any more energy away before she had returned to her full health.

A few weeks after the initial mishap Marinette got back on track. Every morning she would push just a little bit of energy into Tikki. Little by little, Tikki turned from specter to physical being. Then, one morning, as Marinette pushed energy into Tikki, she felt her energy hit a wall. At the same time, Marinette felt Tikki's fur under her hand for the first time in ten years.

"You brought her back!" Jason exclaimed.

Marinette let out a whoop of joy, scaring Tikki, who jumped out of Marinette's lap with a startled meow. Marinette grabbed Tikki back up, able to properly hug her beloved pet for the first time in ten years. "I've got to go show Tikki to my parents. I'm going to tell them that I found her outside."

"You'll need to give her a new name," said Jason. "Might I suggest Alfred."

Tom and Sabine were surprised, which was to be expected. After all, it wasn't every day that their daughter found a doppelgänger of their dead cat in the alley behind the bakery. However, they were quick to rationalize the event, shrugging it off as a strange coincidence. Alfred became a beloved new member of the family.

After her success with Alfred neé Tikki, Marinette turned her attention to Jason. Their very first attempt took place in Marinette's bedroom. Marinette and Jason sat down cross-legged on the floor. Marinette placed her hands on top of Jason's and concentrated. She felt the life force within herself and pressed it forward, through her hands and into his.

"I can feel it," whispered Jason, "I've never felt anything like it before. It's so warm."

The awe in Jason's voice made Marinette feel warm inside as well. "I'm going to start with just a little bit of energy. I don't know how transferring energy to a human will differ from transferring energy to a cat, and I don't want to burn myself out on the very first transfer."

"Do this at whatever pace you need. I don't want you to hurt yourself."

Marinette smiled with his reassurance. She took a deep breath, and let the energy flow out of her. When she finally finished, cutting off the flow, she looked back up at Jason and gasped. Jason's broken finger, which had bothered him for weeks, had straightened out. The cut on his collarbone had closed shut. The bruise on his cheekbone had faded. His wounds were already starting to heal.

--

Quickly, Marinette and Jason fell into a routine. Every day after school they would sit down in the back corner of the bakery and Marinette (under the guise of doing her homework) would push more of her life energy into him. It was a slow process. Though Marinette often wished to give Jason just a little more energy every day, to speed up the process, she was constantly aware of the fact that Jason would fuss over her and stop the transfer of energy entirely if he saw any sign of pain or exhaustion on her.

In the months that Marinette had known Jason, he had grown protective over her. Marinette spent most of her time with Jason. He slept in her room on the little couch in the corner, followed her to school, and wore the clothes that she designed for her. Jason changing his clothes was an incredibly embarrassing affair, as the only way for him to be corporeal enough to touch the clothes was for Marinette to be touching him while he did it, leading to averted eyes and blushing on the part of both Marinette and Jason (but it was worth it for Marinette, to saw Jason's relieved smile when he realized that he never had to see the blood-stained clothes that he died in again).

In total, it took eight months from the day that Marinette met Jason to the day that Marinette brought Jason back to life. It started as an uneventful morning. Marinette woke up to her alarm, grumbling as she got ready about how it was inhumane to make teenagers wake up so early. She made herself a coffee while chatting to Jason. They walked to school together, Marinette dodging through the crowded sidewalk while Jason moved straight through people with ease. Marinette got to her desk at school and took a seat next to Alya. Luckily the seat behind Marinette was empty, so Jason sat there when he followed Marinette to school.

Marinette had asked Jason before if it bothered him that he was unable to participate with the rest of the class since they could neither see nor hear him. Jason claimed that he didn't mind. Despite that, if Jason ever whispered comments or questions about the lesson into Marinette's ear, she always made sure to ask the teacher, even if she already knew the answer.

Sitting in on lessons had the additional benefit of teaching Jason French. Marinette did her best to teach him the basics, but immersion was the best teacher - after eight months of hearing and speaking only French, Jason was fluent in the language. Marinette often praised him for his quick learning, which was how she learned that Jason was prone to blushing when he was complimented. Jason always grumbled when Marinette pointed it out, but Marinette found it adorable.

Once school was over on that fateful day, Marinette and Jason walked home together. Marinette set her backpack down at her usual table, sat down, and got to work. It had become an easy routine: put in her headphones and play some calming music, find a quiet place within her brain, and focus on the feeling of energy welling up inside of her. Then take Jason's hands, concentrate on that energy, and push it through her arms and into him. Controlling the direction of the energy was easy - it was controlling the rate that was the difficult part. It moved slowly at first, then all at once it flowed faster than Marinette can control, and it was a race to slow it down before it could all drain out of her.

That day, however, just as the energy started to speed up, the flow of energy abruptly cut off before Marinette even had the chance to react.

"Why did it stop?" asked Jason, looking confused.

The day had been so long coming that Marinette could hardly believe what had happened. "I have nothing left to give you. You're alive again, Jason."

Jason stared at her, wide-eyed. "Are you sure?"

"I'll go test it." Marinette jumped out of her seat and raced towards the front of the bakery, heading for Tom, who was behind the counter. "Papa, can I get a plate of macaroons for me and my friend?"

Tom glanced over at Jason. "Who is he? I don't think I've ever seen him here before."

"He's a foreign exchange student," Marinette lied easily. "His name is Jason."

"Here's a plate for you and Jason." Tom handed her a plate, piled high with macaroons and other sweets.

"I might take Jason and show him around Paris, once we finish our homework. Is that alright?"

"Sure, sweetheart. Just make sure you're home before dinner."

"Of course," chirped Marinette. She made her way back to her table with a bounce in her step. "My papa could see you. You're real."

In that moment, Jason looked lost. He glanced down at his hands, flesh and blood once more. "What do I do now?"

"You're alive again. You can do whatever you want."

Jason took a deep breath. "I've been gone from this world for so long. I want to go home."

Marinette tried not to let the fact that her heart was breaking show on her face. "I have enough birthday money saved up to buy you a plane ticket. You might have trouble getting on a plane without any identification, but I'm sure we can come up with a solution."

For a moment, Jason looked upset. Then, Marinette saw on his face as a realization dawned on him. "I didn't mean alone. Marinette, I want you to come with me."

--

There was no sugar-coating it: Marinette's parents were going to kill her. The plane was half-way across the Atlantic Ocean and Marinette's phone was turned off. There was no way to check, but she was certain that her parents were already sending her frantic texts. By the time the plane landed in Gotham, Tom and Sabine would surely have already called the police.

Marinette could only hope that her and Jason's fake IDs would hold up against the Gotham Airport security officers. While seventeen-year-old Jason could easily pass for nineteen, the age listed on the fake ID for Jasper Townsend, Marinette was worried that she looked young enough to cause suspicion. The age on Marie Davis's ID needed to be eighteen in order to get Marinette onto the plane, so whether she liked it or not she had to look eighteen. Resigned to her lies, Marinette put on a heavy face of makeup and wore three-inch heels on the international flight. It was a little funny, in an ironic way, that her heels had one inch for each year she needed to make up for.

Marinette was still confused about how Jason managed to get them fake IDs in the first place. Jason just shrugged and said that he knew a guy who owed him a favor. It was a side of Jason that Marinette hadn't ever seen before, a side of him that she was deeply curious about.

They had gotten on the plane just as the sun was setting. Marinette had sent her parents one last text message, telling them that she might be a little late. It was the understatement of the century. Marinette had never lied to her parents like that before. All of her past lies had been little things - lying about the number of macaroons she ate, or how late she stayed up the night before - but never a lie about her personal safety. The guilt was killing Marinette. It made her feel sick to her stomach.

Jason placed his hand (flesh and blood) on Marinette's shoulder. "I'm sorry that I'm making you do this."

"I'm not sorry. I would never make you do it alone."

Marinette could practically feel the nervous energy radiating off of Jason as their plane landed in Gotham. "I'm assuming you know where we're going next. Should we rent a car?" she asked once they cleared security (miraculously, no one looked too closely at Marinette's feeble attempt at a disguise. Marinette was glad to switch out her heels for flats and wash off the makeup in the airport bathroom).

Jason shook his head. "We don't need to rent one. He always keeps a car at the airport just in case someone's flying in."

Marinette wasn't sure who he was supposed to be, but Jason had been reticent to share any information about his past, and Marinette wasn't going to pressure him. Jason had been beaten to death, after all. There was a lot of trauma in his past and Marinette wasn't going to force him to share it with her until he was ready.

Jason led her through to the VIP parking lot to a luxury black sedan. He reached underneath the car, feeling at the underside until he pulled out a key. "Bruce keeps a key taped to the underside."

"That seems... irresponsible." Marinette was delicate with her words. Jason had been tense since the plane landed, like a loaded gun. She didn't want to bring up anything that might set him off.

"He also has a tracker planted in the car," Jason remarked offhandedly.

Marinette rolled her eyes at that remark, unable to keep walking on eggshells around the topic of Jason's family. "Irresponsible and paranoid. That's an interesting combination."

Jason laughed. "Just wait until you meet Bruce in person. I promise you, none of what I could tell you about him would ever live up to the real deal."

They got into the car, Jason in the driver's seat and Marinette in the passenger's. Jason's driving was a little rusty at first (which was understandable, given that he hadn't driven in nearly a year), but by the time he got on the highway, it was like he never left the driver's seat.

"Do you think that your family will believe you when you tell them that I brought you back to life?" asked Marinette, her voice quiet. The closer she and Jason got to Jason's house, the more questions Marinette had. It had taken her weeks to rationalize the fact that she could see ghosts, and she was the one seeing them. She couldn't imagine how Jason's family would react.

"Bruce was the one who found my body. There wasn't any faking that. I think he'll believe you."

"We've never talked about what happened to you. I- Is it safe for you to go home?"

Jason nodded, eyes on the road as he pulled off the highway onto a winding road. "Bruce did everything he could to save me, but he was too late. I was there for the funeral. I watched him mourn. I think... I think the reason I never passed on was because he never got over my death, never stopped feeling guilty. I wanted to pass on. I wanted to tell Bruce that I didn't blame him. I went and found you so that you could pass on the message for me. But then, when you could touch me, when you took the time to wash the blood off of my hands, I realized that I might be able to tell Bruce myself. I realized that I could have a second chance. I realized how badly I wanted a second chance, because a second chance at life meant that I had a chance with you."

Marinette blushed, looking over at Jason. "You know that doesn't matter to me. I wouldn't care if you were dead or alive."

With a snort of amusement, Jason said, "You might want to rephrase that."

Marinette rolled her eyes. "You know what I mean. I liked you before you were corporeal. Human or ghost, you're my friend, Jason, and that's never going to change."

"I know that, but I like being alive better. I like being able to hold your hand for real."

Before Marinette could say anything in reply, the car turned. Marinette was too shocked to speak when she saw the size of the house at the end of the driveway. "Welcome to Wayne Manor, Marinette."

Marinette got out of the car first, smoothing down the fabric of her skirt and running her fingers through her hair. She hoped that she looked presentable, even if no one would be looking at her once they saw the resurrected Jason. "Are you coming?"

Jason nodded, taking a deep, steadying breath. "Yeah. I'm ready." Jason got out of the car and slipped his hand (flesh and blood) into Marinette's, and even though questions and doubts were swirling through Marinette's head in a whirlwind of anxiety, she knew that as long as she could hold Jason's hand, everything would be okay.

@maribatmarch-2k21

[thesmokingguns]

A Dream Come True

Warnings: Slight language, mention of infertility issues

Song by Elton John

First part of my A-Z one shots I’ll be writing. I changed this idea about ten times and ended up writing pure fluff. I think the A-Z is going to have Motley Crue and GNR members and have eveyrthing from fluff to smut. I’m hoping to post one a week.

I can hear your heart

Pounding in my ear

Now I feel the sound

And the time is near

I feel the taste

Of all the things you do

Now the time has come

I know you're a dream come true

I thought it had been a joke when you had said you wanted to get me pregnant. To see me swollen with your baby. I figured it was something that you were saying to me when you were horny and wanted to ease me into letting you cum inside me.

But then I noticed how you would stare at me when I was playing with Vince’s kids. You’d watch me run around with them, kiss scapes, feed the baby a bottle, or when I would walk around with a kid on my hip hour eyes would flash with something I didn’t understand.

Want.

I never realized how much you wanted a family until you got the idea lodged into your head. You became obsessed with putting a baby in me.

It was the second week in your plan when I realized my birth control pills had gone missing. I tore the house apart and felt slightly crazy when it didn't turn up. It was an easy enough fix to call the doctor and get a new prescription but when I came in holding the brown pharmacy bag you were so angry.  

That’s when I realized you were serious about putting a baby in me.

We had been together for seven years, Married for five of them. But I was still surprised you were willing to share me with kids. I had thought maybe when we were in our 40s there might be a couple dogs but never children.

I was overwhelmed and slept at my mothers house thag night to think about it.

Maybe it wasn’t about you wanting to share me but more about me wondering if I could share you anymore. There was already the band taking up so much time and when you weren’t with the band you seemed to still be doing something with music. I was needy and needed your attention too.

Could I really share you with little carbon copies of you?

Could there be anything cuter than mini little Nikki’s running around?

When I woke up the next morning to the revving of a motorcycle outside I knew we were both on the same page now. I held onto you as we made our way home and started the next chapter of our life.

You make me so complete

With the things you do

And the music's sweet

You make me feel brand new

I hear the sound

Songs start coming through

Somehow I know

That you're a dream come true

I was only 24 when we decided to have a baby, so I thought getting pregnant would be easy. And then I turned 25 and it still wasn’t happening.

I felt like I was disappointing you.

You never asked me for anything and now the one thing you wanted I couldn’t give you. I was getting myself into this deep darkness, stacking my worth into my reproduction.

The doctors couldn’t find anything wrong, which made it worse because no one could help.

And then one morning I woke up and felt different. It was like my body was going through a growth spurt. I ached in weird places. It was like someone punched my right in the boobs.

You were doing a couple shows in Canada but would be home that weekend so I didn’t want to call the hotel and complain about how shitty I felt.

I spent the whole day in bed watching shitty Soap Operas and drinking water and peanut butter, the only things that didn't make my stomach lurch.

When I woke up the next morning feeling nauseous and sore I called the doctor. All I needed was to get the flu and then get you sick. You were such a big baby when you had the slightest cold.

I sat in the cold doctors room, on the table. I needed to call you. I had missed your call last night because I had fallen asleep early. When I called the hotel this morning you were already out. My mind was too busy thinking of you when the doctor came in and told me what was wrong.

I was pregnant.

Six weeks. For six weeks I had been carrying your baby and I didn’t know.

The doctor said it would be a great weekend to tell you. It was going to be Father’s Day.

My heart was pumping as I went home. My hand on my stomach as I held my baby. Rubbing the flat area that would soon be a bump.

It was a Friday and you’d be flying in tomorrow afternoon. How was I supposed to keep this a secret? It was everything we wanted. But I knew that I wanted to make it special for you.

You had been so patient in this and now it was finally happening.

It takes my breath

When it sounds that way

Seems like you

Chase the clouds away

And I feel so good

Each and every day

And life is good

Each and every way

Sunday morning I woke up wrapped up in you. Our limbs entwined as you held me close. I didn’t want to get up but I knew I had to.

I got up and groaned. Watching the way you sat up concerned, asking if I was okay.

I told you I was still feeling a little sick. I had filled you in on all the information about how I was sick and not feeling well. I even told you about the doctor's visit. Which leads to now.

I left the room pretending to call the doctor. Even though I had paid a ton of money to get them to be open on Sunday for your surprise. When I came back to the bedroom you were on the edge of the bed, eyes looking at me with nervousness as I told you I needed to go to the doctor.

Of course you agreed to go with me. Holding my hand on the drive and even coming into the room with me.

The doctor said he wanted to do an ultrasound just to check on what was going on in my stomach.

And that’s when the loud booming of a heartbeat filled the room.

Your eyes went from my face to the screen where our little bean was making all that noise, just like their daddy.

Your hand squeezed mine as you realized what you were looking at. I swear your eyes teared up and my heart was beating a million miles a minute. Your free hand slid up onto my stomach as you held our baby.

Our baby, Nikki.

Now I feel the beat

Of the dancing drums

And now I know we're

Gonna have some fun

Now the time stands still

And the blues are through

And now I know

What I'm gonna do

Nine months.

It was nine months of you being practically glued to my side. Every ultrasound, all the pregnancy yoga, the million pictures you wanted to take of me, pulling me out of bed when I was so round I couldn’t even sit up alone.

Every step of the way, we were in it together.

Except now. You had to go to a show tonight before taking a couple months off. You wanted me to go but the idea of people seeing me look like a blimp wasn’t exactly my idea of a good night. Going to get a strawberry milkshake was exactly how I wanted to spend my night.

I was just pulling out of the drive through, sipping the ice cream and it happened.

The warm water slid down my thighs, over the leather seats of your Porsche. You were going to love getting the car cleaned after this.

Usually I would panic in these situations but I had been having the small fluttering contractions for weeks. Plus we had taken that birth class together where we learned about how long labor actually takes.

Did it feel great to start labor well driving your Porsche to the show to go get you? No. BUt my mind was so focused on getting to you I was sure that I could I’d make it.

Ten minutes to the venue, Three minutes to rock back and forth to propel myself out of the car, Five minutes to clean myself up and throw on your red leather jacket over the tight black dress I was wearing with my converses, Nine minutes to make it backstage.

My hand was on my back trying to count the time between the contractions which were feeling more intense than I expected. I could see the side stage that I would need to waddle over to but it might as well have been ten miles away.

The opening chords to Use it or Lose it started to play, making me smile. It was one of my favorite songs. Someone helped me over to the side of the stage and I watched Nikki spinning around.

You looked so happy as you slammed on your bass, running around the stage and leaning out to the fans. As much as I wanted to have someone run on stage and let you know your wife was in labor I wanted this moment.

This was your last show before you became a dad and I wanted you to have the moment without worrying about me.

I pushed out of the chair making my way to the payphone and calling the doctor's office to let them know that I was in labor and I’d be heading to the hospital in about a half hour. As I hung up another tight, sharp pain ripped through me. My hand gripped the edge of the phone.

Hang on, Baby Sixx. We’re going to meet you soon.

You bounced towards me, your big smile on your face until you realized the grimace I was giving you and the realization of what was going on hit you.

I don’t know how we made it to the hospital without flipping the car or getting a speeding ticket but you were helping me in the front door fifteen minutes after leaving the show.

It was 1:53AM when he was born. Jackson James Sixx. 8 lbs 1oz, 22 in long.

Holding your son for the first time was one of the best things I’ve ever seen. He was so little in your arms but the love between you was so big. The way you crawled into bed, wrapping yourself around us. It was the three of us together now.

And it was everything I wanted and more.

And I feel so good

Each and every way

And life is good

Each and every day

[taexual]

i’d love you to stay but that’s simply insane // JJK (1)

        jungkook is an uncontrollable lead vocalist of the campus band, and you’re a goal-oriented top student that’s known his rich and complicated family since childhood. you don’t want anything to do with each other, until each other is exactly what you want to do.

pairing: jeon jungkook x reader

genre: college au

warnings: strong language, accidents caused by drunk driving (DO NOT, UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES, DRIVE WHILE DRUNK OR AGREE TO RIDE WITH SOMEONE WHO’S DRUNK!!!)

words: 4.4k

                       chapter one.

The music coming from the stage was deafening and headache-inducing but the ambience of the club itself was absolutely energizing, and you kept switching between regretting the decision to come here, and thanking your roommate for convincing you to. Glancing at the girl next to you – she’d already finished her fourth drink and you weren’t sure if she realized it because she seemed to be hypnotized by what she was seeing on stage – you smiled even despite knowing that you’d be stuck helping her battle a killer hangover tomorrow.

“It’s crazy,” Inna said suddenly as if having read your thoughts, “isn’t it? I mean, they’re driving the whole club insane, look at them!”

You did look but not at the band on stage. The second floor of the club provided you with a great view of the first floor and the sight of your heavily intoxicated and barely legal peers dancing so close to the stage, they were nearly on top of it already, distracted you – it always amused you to see the duality of the top students in your class.

“Yeah,” you said. “But Parental Advisory brings the insanity with them wherever they go. I saw some people who brought actual posters to the club.”

“Shit, I should have thought of that,” Inna said, hitting herself on the temple with her palm in disappointment.

“I don’t even get it,” you started and your roommate was already groaning. Even drunk, she could recognize the tone of your voice when you were about to complain. “I mean—”

“Come on, you said you wouldn’t complain!” she whined.

“I said no such thing,” you disagreed, “and I’m not complaining, anyway. I’m just saying how they’re nothing special. Everyone’s only listening to them because they’re the only band on campus.”

Inna looked like she wanted to argue – like she’s done a million times before – but then she decided to let it slide and finish her drink instead.

“You’re only saying that,” she pointed out then, the straw of her cocktail still in her mouth, “because you have a weird prejudice against their lead vocalist.”

You raised your eyebrows with a skeptical scoff. “Jungkook? I don’t have anything against him. I just think he’s an overrated, arrogant asshole.”

Your roommate glanced at the stage again, seemingly losing herself in the performance for a minute, before she agreed to give you the benefit of the doubt, even though she always suspected that there was something more there – she knew you and Jungkook had history and she felt like your open dislike for him was concealing your deeper feelings.

“He may be arrogant,” she said just as Jungkook tossed the towel he’d used to wipe the sweat on his forehead off into the crowd, “but that’s just because he’s aware of how good he is.”

“Or maybe it’s because his dad owns a successful business,” you said, “and he’s just an entitled heir.”

“Sure, that could be a factor. But being an heir wouldn’t make those girls so devoted to him,” she was only half-joking as both of your gazes immediately fell to the side of the stage where a group of girls was already waiting for the performance to be over.

“There’s always a crowd of girls wherever he goes,” Inna continued, her eyes glistening. She chuckled then, “and, let me tell you, word is, they’re never disappointed.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes even despite having heard the rumors on campus as well. It wasn’t that the members of Parental Advisory slept around – or maybe they did but they weren’t ones to brag about it – but they knew what to give their audience to make them satisfied. That included their shows on stage and their parties back at their shared house – a notorious place already, known all over campus as the only spot where a party could stay alive and burning all throughout the weekend.

“Do you think his groupies leave reviews?” you slipped into sarcasm without meaning to. “Do they rate his performance on and off the stage out of five stars?”

“No, are you seriou—okay, that’s enough for me. I’m going to get another drink,” Inna stood up, choosing to focus her energy into having a good time rather than trying to get you to see the band from her point of view.

You debated stopping her -- she’s already had more drinks than she could handle -- but the determination in her eyes as she turned around and crossed the room towards the bar stopped you. You didn’t dare to interrupt a woman on a mission.

Finishing your own drink as you waited for her to come back, you took this time to focus on the atmosphere of the club. Despite the fact that Parental Advisory was, obviously, not one of your favorite bands, they did play good music – even if you could already feel a headache creeping in – and, there was no denying, they definitely knew how to put on a show.

You watched Jungkook lean into the crowd with his mic stand, his white shirt almost see-through from his sweat – and everyone who was close enough to touch him went wild. It was almost as if he ignited wildfires inside of them with his eyes – just one look and everyone around him dropped all of their inhibitions and started to live.

You knew of the effect he had on people even before he joined the band as you found yourself reminiscing about all the times you’d listened to Jungkook play a very strained version of Für Elise on his grandfather’s old piano. He’d always look at you after he finished playing and the glitter in his eyes made you feel as though you’ve just listened to the most harmonious melody in the world, even if his family’s cat wouldn’t stop hissing, begging him to stop and get away from the piano.

Somehow, listening to Parental Advisory – even though they favored alternative music and stayed clear of Beethoven – always brought back the memories of Jungkook at the piano. It softened you until you started to understand why every person at the club was completely at his will, responding to his every gesture, and, for a little while, you could relate to them as you followed Jungkook on stage with your eyes.

You didn’t like these memories – they lowered your walls against your will – so you were glad to get distracted by Inna as she plopped back down on her seat next to you, a new drink in her hand.

“Man,” she said and then took a sip, “if I’d brought a poster too, maybe we could have gone to the after party.”

Of course she wanted to go to their after party. When it came to Parental Advisory, after parties were basically a part of their performance, so she couldn’t just leave in the middle of it.

“You can still go even if you don’t have a poster,” you said, already coming up with a plan of how you were going to get home after the final song ended. “It’s not like their parties are exclusive.”

“Well, they sort of are,” Inna said. “It’s different when you just show up to the party. The people who matter arrive with the band. And they usually invite some of the girls with the posters backstage after the show.”

“The people who matter,” you repeated with disgust, “I hope you realize how pretentious that sounds. You’re not a loser if you don’t roll up to the party with the band.”

“It’s—okay, maybe it’s a little pretentious,” she said. “But I’d still like to be a part of that crew. Or, at least, arrive with someone.”

She wasn’t trying to conceal her wistful tone and even if she was, she probably wouldn’t have been very successful, because her wish to get a glimpse into the inside world of Parental Advisory was obvious in her eyes as she watched the band play out the final chords on stage.

Despite dragging you to gigs like this nearly every weekend, Inna was, all things considered, a good friend and you felt like you owed her this one thing because tonight really wasn’t as torturous for you as you may have made it seem.

You still couldn’t help but sigh before speaking to let her know how difficult saying this was for you (all so she wouldn’t expect you to do this every time you went out, really), “I suppose we can go to the party together. I’ll make sure you don’t feel like a loser.”

Her whole face lit up as she turned to you. “Do you mean it? Because I’m too drunk to recognize it if you’re mocking me right now.”

“I mean it,” you said sincerely. “If you don’t mind arriving with me instead of the band.”

“Oh, who cares, the band will be inside,” she dismissed her previous stance immediately, “thank you! I’ll make sure to repay you by getting you a clean cup of beer so as not to repeat my last mistake.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, frowning as you tried to resist the memory of Inna’s last mistake that involved accidentally making a cocktail of beer and tequila and then leaving you to fend for your life as you battled a hangover that seemed to last the whole week.

“Let’s not go there,” you said, “I’ll get my own drinks this time. Or, actually, maybe I’ll stay sober. One of us has to.”

Inna chuckled. “Good! I think it’s a little too late for me to do that.”

As it turned out, your roommate wasn’t the only one who got drunk way before the after-party started, because, by the time you returned to campus and reached the large building Parental Advisory lived in – courtesy of their rich parents, of course – everyone there was already wasted and in the middle of a very intense game of how-many-stupid-things-can-I-do-in-one-night. The guy who dived head-first from the roof into the jacuzzi in the backyard – no clothes on him whatsoever – must have been winning.

“Did you see that?” Inna laughed, her eyes lighting up like a child’s in the presence of candy. “There’s a reason why people won’t shut up about the parties here.”

“Hmm,” you looked around, more concerned about the girl from your Philosophy class who was attempting to do a keg stand all by herself. “But how do they not have accidents here? Everyone’s drunk out of their—”

“Oh my God, there they are!” your roommate squealed as she stopped walking suddenly and you automatically bumped into her. She turned to you, completely unbothered by the fact that you’d made her spill half of her drink. “Do you want to say hi to Jungkook?”

You lifted your gaze until you saw the four members of the band make their way towards the kitchen – which was, conveniently, directly behind you –  and then scoffed.

“Not at all,” you said as the group approached. “But even if I did, watch how he successfully ignores me.”

But your expectations weren’t met as Jungkook – still mid-laugh about something someone had said to him – stopped right in front of you.

“Oh!” he looked surprised to see you, but not nearly as surprised as you felt when he stopped to talk to you. Inna had stopped breathing as she watched you from the side and, frankly, you thought your lungs had given out, too. “Nice to see you here. Having fun?”

You hadn’t talked to Jungkook in seven years at least – a lucky number, one would think – and now that he was suddenly addressing you again, you weren’t sure if you’d ever learned how to talk at all.

“Sure,” you ended up saying because what else was there to say? “I like what you’ve done with the place. Before the party started, I mean.”

He laughed, giving the space that was once his living room – but was now a dance-floor with a couch that was nearly tipped over by some couple that was making out on it – a good look and then turning to you again.

“Thanks,” he said. “My mom took care of it.”

“Of course,” you let it slip. Acting like you didn’t know him was obviously not going to work because you did know him, and you knew very well that his mother was an interior designer because she was the one that designed your parents’ house, too. “Hope she’s doing well.”

“She is,” Jungkook said but it sounded a lot like the automatic response you’d given him before – “sure, I’m having fun at this party” – and he realized that as he cleared his throat, “she, uh, she’s still in touch with your mom, I guess, yeah?”

“Well, they’re best friends,” you said. Once again, your mouth opened before you could control yourself and every single word came out sounding overly sarcastic and borderline snotty. It was like you were trying to live up to his arrogant nature while he was pretending to be humble. “Anyway, it’s, uh, good to see you, I guess. I’m going to—”

Your eyes were already on Inna – who was no longer as amused by Jungkook as she had been moments ago, and was currently ogling Taehyung, another Parental Advisory member, who was talking to someone a few feet away from her – and you were already in the middle of taking a step past Jungkook and towards her, when he suddenly grabbed your forearm, stopping you.

The act – or, his touch, to be precise – shocked you so much that you turned to him with parted lips but weren’t able to express your surprise out loud.

“Wait, you guess?” Jungkook asked, sounding oddly amused. “So, it’s not really good to see me, then?”

For a moment, you didn’t understand what he was saying at all – because you weren’t thinking what you were saying when you spoke to him – but then you realized and pulled your arm out of his grasp.

“I’ve made small-talk with at least a dozen people I didn’t know before tonight,” you said, “it’s been good to see them all.”

“You know me, though,” he insisted, grinning now. It was like he listened to the sarcasm in your voice but deliberately chose not to hear it.

Still not really sure why he was talking to you now of all times – you’ve been going to the same classes for three years now and there have definitely been opportunities for you two to interact but you both ignored all of them – you figured he was just bored. Doing the same thing every Friday night – performing and then going home to get drunk with strangers who basically worshiped him – was bound to get tiring after a while and maybe he was looking for new ways to entertain himself.

“I knew you,” you clarified, not wanting to become his newest form of entertainment.

He shrugged, seemingly unfazed by the seven years you’d spent not talking. “You still do.”

You scoffed and were clearly about to disagree, so he jumped in before you could.

“We can always catch up,” he said with a nod towards the kitchen. “Let’s get a drink.”

“Why?” you asked. You couldn’t help it, this was too weird.

“Why not?” he countered, ever the opportunist. You didn’t reply. “What’s with the frown? Do you still plan everything out in advance? Should I make an appointment with your secretary before you can agree to get drinks with me?”

You felt the frown he’d mention deepen as your skeptical expression turned into a full-on scowl. You didn’t appreciate being mocked.

“You should,” you said. “But, fair warning, I’m booked until graduation.”

You were already turning to walk away – and noticed that Inna had disappeared – but, once again, Jungkook pulled you right back in by speaking louder.

“Aw, that’s disappointing,” he said in a way that made him sound more excited than disappointed. “Won’t you make an exception for an old friend? You used to.”

You felt goosebumps rise on your skin as he said this but didn’t even attempt to defend yourself. He had always been the exception to everything in your life – no matter how busy with homework you were, no matter how many school events the student council needed your approval for, you always made time for him – and, somehow, that came back to bite you in the ass.

“I haven’t talked to you since we finished middle school,” you said, purposefully not sticking to the day in discussion for too long or Jungkook would have undoubtedly used that against you, too, “lots of things changed. I only make exceptions for the people who matter now.”

Jungkook – who was absolutely going to discuss your middle school graduation in great detail if you’d stopped talking after you mentioned it – grabbed his chest and threw his head back dramatically.

“Ouch,” he fake-moaned, “that’s really cold, you know. I’m just trying to reconnect with you.”

“I think you have more important matters at hand,” you said, finally finding an excuse to walk away – it came in the form of three girls who had appeared by his side, evidently too tired to be waiting for his attention from across the room.

He hadn’t even noticed them at first – which was surprising, considering how strong the scent of their combined perfumes was – but, as soon as he turned his head to finally look at them, you walked away.

Instead of being annoyed by your abrupt exit, however, Jungkook seemed to grow even more amused. This was the first time you’d left him hanging – things really have changed.

“I’ll call you!” he called out across the living room but you didn’t turn back so he assumed you didn’t hear. Sighing, he turned back to the girls by his side. Taking the one closest to him by her hand, he pointed towards the kitchen. “Ladies.”

When you finally turned around to look at him – because you did hear what he’d said – he was already guiding the group of girls into the kitchen and filling their cups. An unexpected sense of disappointment settled in your chest but you tried to shake it off.

He was the one who decided it’d be better if the two of you stopped being friends at the beginning of ninth grade. It couldn’t have taken him seven years to change his mind.

A loud commotion outside distracted you from the conversation you’d been having with someone who, apparently, lived in a dorm room across the hall from yours – funny how you haven’t even seen each other before tonight – and you both turned to look out of the window.

“What the fuck was that?” you heard Yoongi, another one of Jungkook’s bandmates, ask himself, as he hurried past you. “Is that fucker fighting again?”

Your heart rate picked up as you realized that the “fucker” in question must have been Jungkook. Thinking rationally, you knew you had no reason to go out there and check what was going on, and yet the possibility that Jungkook was in a fight – and not for the first time, apparently! – was enough to send you right after Yoongi, until the two of you stopped in the backyard, both looking around to see what was causing the loud noise.

“Do you see him?” Yoongi asked you, too drunk – and too busy looking after his lead vocalist – to question why you were outside with him when everyone else settled on watching the scene play out through the windows of the house.

“Why do you think it’s him—oh. Yeah, I see him,” you pointed to a black car parked at the far end of the backyard – clearly, the car belonged to one of the members – and Yoongi saw Jungkook as soon as he turned to look.

Frankly, it was hard not to see Jungkook because he was being unceremoniously thrown on the hood of the vehicle by a guy that was about twice his size. And yet Jungkook seemed so much more aggressive than him as he pushed himself off the car and attacked.

“Fuck,” Yoongi muttered briefly before breaking into a sprint. “Jungkook! Shit, get the fuck away from him. What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!”

Profanities continued to spill from his mouth as he attempted to break the fight up. You found yourself running to catch up with them – which was a blessing for Yoongi because he struggled to hold the other guy back when Jungkook kept throwing himself at him – but you didn’t dare to intervene just yet.

“What are you doing?” you demanded – no one paid any attention – and then cleared your throat before trying again, louder, “Jungkook!”

Still, the boy was far too focused on his opponent – who was being cradled by a huffing Yoongi – so you had no choice but to step in – literally – and place both hands on Jungkook’s chest, pushing him back into the car roughly.

Taken off guard, he stumbled and fell on his back, landing on the hood of the car yet again and nearly taking you with him as he had angrily grabbed your wrists before he fell. He was seemingly ready to push them away before he looked into your eyes.

“Fuck,” he exhaled as soon as your gazes met, his grip on your wrists softening but not disappearing as he held your hands against his chest that moved up and down, his heart beating rapidly under your fingertips.

After waiting until his heart rate slowed down just slightly, you pulled your hands out of his and stepped away so he could stand up from the car.

“What the hell happened?” you asked. You could feel yourself start to shake but it wasn’t due to the chilly evening air.

“He’s being a dumbass again, that’s what happened,” Yoongi snarled, pushing the guy he’d been holding back off of himself and glaring at him and Jungkook both. “You need to get your shit together, man. I’m sick of looking after your sorry ass.”

The last part was directed at Jungkook who groaned, pulling the sleeves of his hoodie down. The guy he’d been fighting spat on the ground, gave him one last frustrated look, and returned to the party. Jungkook looked like he was going to yell something at him but Yoongi cursed loudly and gave up right then and there, turning around towards the house.

“I don’t need you to look after me!” Jungkook yelled after Yoongi, who pretended not to hear him as he walked away, and then – much to your surprise – the younger boy threw the driver’s door of the car open.

Confused and seriously concerned, you watched Yoongi leave before turning back to look at Jungkook. “W-what are you—”

“Just go!” he snapped at you as he got into the car.

“You can��t drive!” you protested in panic, grabbing the door before he could close it.

“I can do whatever the fuck I want,” Jungkook snarled, looking at you with a fire so prominent in his eyes that you ended up letting go of the car door out of sheer surprise. You’d never seen him like this before.

And then, as you turned away from him for just one second, searching for Yoongi – surely, he’d come back to stop him – Jungkook started the engine of the car.

You swore under your breath, knocking on the window of the car but it brought no response from him. “Jungkook! You can’t—”

He said something and you automatically stopped pounding on his window to listen. The engine of the car was drowning out his words and you expected him to lower his window and repeat what he’d said, but Jungkook used the moment when you took an unconscious step away from the car, and pushed the pedal.

You swore loudly as you watched him drive away, running your hands through your hair in desperation. For the next minute, you watched the car maneuver around the front yard clumsily and then drive down the main street. When he disappeared from your field of vision, you pulled your phone out from your back pocket but you didn’t know who to call.

Looking around again, you realized that Yoongi had gone back inside, and suddenly, you weren’t sure what would be faster, calling the police so they’d be on the look-out for a drunk lunatic behind the wheel or finding the rest of the Parental Advisory members so they could hopefully find a better solution.

But before you could reach a decision – it all seemed to happen in a split-second, honestly – you heard a loud crash. With your heart immediately falling down to your stomach and then plummeting all the way down to your feet, you ran across the yard and towards the main street, hoping – praying – that the sound was unrelated to Jungkook.

And yet, as soon as you stopped on the sidewalk and looked down the road, you saw the same black car right there, next to where the road split into an intersection. It had been forced to stop by a lonely lamp post, the view of which was partially blocked by a large tree trunk, but even so, you could tell that Jungkook had slammed the car right into it.

Struggling to breathe, you listened to people pour out of the house. They seemed to be much more alarmed than they’d been when they first heard someone fighting.

You didn’t think you could move.

“Call an ambulance,” you whispered, your eyes glued to the smoke that was coming out in dark, angry swirls from underneath the totaled hood of Jungkook’s car. “Someone needs to call the ambulance!”

Your own phone was lit up with the number of the police that you’d dialed mere seconds ago but you couldn’t find the control in your fingers to press call. Then, you heard cursing and realized that the people from the party weren’t going to help. They didn’t even consider helping.

They were running away. Escaping from the accident which seemed to them like the perfect reason for expulsion from university. They no longer wanted to be a part of the special club that got to arrive to Parental Advisory parties with the members of the band themselves. 

Inhaling deeply, you realized that no one else was going to do this for you, so you finally managed to pull yourself back together again.

You pressed your phone to your ear and with each beep of the dial tone, you cursed the Parental Advisory parties more and more – they were an accident waiting to happen. An accident so awful, it could erase seven years of silence as you hoped Jungkook would be able to talk to you again. 

keep reading | masterlist

[adezahnae]

My Roomie (Part 4)

A/N: HELLO! HERE IS PART 4!! I HOPE YOU LOVEEE ITTT💕💕☺️

Warnings: Light Smut, cursing, corruption, angst, spanking, etc...

Tagged People: @ahgasearmyfan @whoreforshuaaa

Your POV

I stirred awake as I shift my body on the bed. I opened my eyes to see Jongin laying right there next me, watching me. “Ah!” I screamed jumping back. He smiled and placed a hand on my cheek. “Good Morning, baby..” He mumbled. I smiled back. “Good Morning..” I replied.

I looked down to see myself without any clothes. I gasped and covered myself. “Uh! Sorry!” I said. He only laughed and pulled the blankets down. “Don’t worry.. I’ve already seen everything anyways.” He smirked. I gulped and blushed as I remembered the thoughts of last night. Last night...it was an actual dream come true...

“Hmmm Kai..” I moaned as I ride him. He bit his lip and grabbed onto my butt. “You like this? Fucking yourself onto my cock?” He asked. I nodded my head and threw it back. He chuckled and bounced me faster. “Then show me how much you love it..cum for me.” He said in a low tone. I whined as I threw my head back and scratched down his chest and neck. He groaned at feeling and smacked my butt again, laughing as I yelped. “You’re so precious..” He whispered.

I gulped as I remembered the thoughts. He was moving my hair out of the way and tucking it behind my ear. “Are you thinking about last night?” He asked. I nodded and he lightly chuckled. “Your pretty pretty moans and whines echo through my head alll the time now.” He said.

I giggled and looked away. He turned my face to look at him again and softly kissed me on my lips. As we got deeper into the kiss, I began to roam my hands to his hair and shoulders and neck. He smirked in the kiss. “Is my baby getting a little bit grabby and needy?” He teased. I blushed and looked down. The pet name ‘baby’ gave me butterflies. It made me feel like a baby who needs attention and her bottle.

“I thought we talked about eye contact baby?” He said pulling my chin up with his finger. “Sorry..” I mumbled. “Sorry what?” He smirked. “Sorry Daddy..” I said with a little giggle. He smiled and kissed my forehead. “Perfect..” He mumbled.

“I wanna take you out.” He said. “Really?” I asked. “Mhm. We’re gonna go and explore outside of the campus.” He smiled. I smiled back. “Okay! Let me go and get dressed!” I said. I grabbed my underwear and bra and put them on. “Wait, before you go out there, put this on.” He said.

He gave me his hoodie and I looked at him funny. “Why?” I asked. “Because I have friends over.” He said. “Oh! Okay well hold on.” I said. I slipped on his big hoodie and smiled. I flopped the sweater paws I had with a giggle. He came behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist and kissed down my neck with a chuckle. “You’re so cute..” He mumbled. He landed a quick smack to my butt, making me moan.

“Huh? Aren’t you a little bit naughty hm?” He teased. I blushed and covered my face. “You want me to walk out with you?” He asked. I nodded and he smiled. He opened the door for me and there sit three guys. I gulped and looked around. They all turned to us. “Who is this?” One of them asked. “Yeah..she’s hot..” another smirked. “Adorable actually.” The last one cooed. I felt uncomfortable and hid behind Jongin.

“Everyone this is Y/n. She is- Don’t crowd her. Sit down.” Jongin said. I peeked from behind him and seen them all with sulky faces. I pouted and hid behind Jongin again. He took my hand and pulled me out from behind him. “Now again. Everyone this is Y/n, my roommate.” Jongin said. “More like a fuckmate.” One said. The tall threw a pillow at the one who said it. “Shut up Sehun.” He hissed.

“Y/n, this is Sehun, Chanyeol, and Baekhyun.” Jongin introduced while pointing to them. “H-Hi..” I said in a low voice. “Aww how cute is she?” Chanyeol said. “She’s shy around other guys so leave her alone.” Jongin said. “Are you a virgin?” Baekhyun asked. I furrowed my eyebrows. I shook my head. “N-No..” I replied. “Hm..you must just had it taken away. Right?” He smirked. I had flashbacks of me and Jongin, making me giggle and blush. “Ah!! You did it didn’t you?” Baekhyun asked Jongin. “Yeah..You can say that.” Jongin said with a nervous chuckle.

“Oohhh!!! He’s never been this shy over a girl before! You must give better sex than L-“ “Baekhyun shut up. Go and get dressed okay?” Jongin said cutting Baekhyun off. I nodded and ran off to my room. I shut the door and slid down it. Why are there so many? Too many good looking faces! Too too too many for me to handle! I shook the thoughts of them and went to my closet.

Jongin’s POV

I sat on the couch and breathed out. “Was I about to fuck up?” Baekhyun asked. “Big time.” Chanyeol said nodding his head. “I think that would’ve been a time when Jongin knocked your ass out.” Sehun said. “I thought she knew about...Lia.” Baekhyun whispered the last part. “Why would I let her know about her? That doesn’t make any sense.” I said. “You’re the one who fucked her and got her pregnant.” Baekhyun shrugged his shoulders. “That isn’t my baby. It’s Chanyeol’s.” I said. “My baby?! Hell no..she’s lying.” Chanyeol said. “Damn she’s a hoe..” Sehun said shaking his head.

“Why did you start messing around with Lia anyways? You knew the girl was bad news.” Chanyeol asked. “I had to get Y/n somehow.” I said. “A simple talk would’ve been nice.” Chanyeol said. I laughed. “No..I have to get to her emotionally and mentally. Not verbally.” I said. “Why?” Baekhyun asked. “I like her...” I said. Everyone gasped. “YOU LIKE Y-“ Baekhyun was cut off by Chanyeol hitting him in the face with a pillow. “Jesus Christ Baek, shut up!” I rolled my eyes.

“AND I want her. Simple as that.” I finished. “Jongin this is a innocent girl, not some whore you can play with and leave.” Baekhyun said. “Who said I was leaving her?” I asked sitting up. Everyone was silent. “I’m just gonna let’s see...show her some new things..” I smirked. “As in corrupt her and possess over her.” Chanyeol said. “Exactly, just with love though..” I said. “Damn...” Sehun said. “What?” I asked.

“After one night and you’re pussy whipped. That’s sad.” He shook his head closing his eyes. “More like she’s dick whipped...” Baekhyun mumbled as she came back into the living room. Chanyeol smacked Baekhyun in his mouth. “Shut up.” He growled.

Y/N came back with shorts and dress shirt. I smiled. “I’ve never seen you wear shorts..” I said. “Yeah..I thought I try something new.” She smiled. “Oh! My purse!! Hold on!” She said rushing back to her room. “See? It’s already working.” I smirked. Everyone shook their head and sighed. “Okay I’m ready.” Y/n smiled. I took her hand and grabbed my jacket. “Let’s go.” I smiled.

Three Weeks Later...

Your POV

For the past three weeks, I’ve been having fun with Jongin. I slept with him for the third time. I began to come out my shell way more. I’ve been more social with his friends and other people. I started to wear skirts and shorts more. I even wore a tank top when I went out on a date with Jongin.

Classes also started a week ago. So I made my way to my locker. I began to unpack things from my bag to put them in my locker because it lunch and I felt someone standing beside me. I turned to see that it was Jamie. I smiled. “Hey Jamie!” I said. He smiled back. “Hi Y/N.” He said. I smiled. “Wow..you’re glowing..” He said. “Yeah..” I mumbled. He smirked. “Oohh someone has a boyfriend!!” He teased poking me. I laughed. “No!! Well..Maybe..” I mumbled shyly.

“Who is it?!” He asked. “Jongin..” I said. His smile dropped. “Jongin?!” He asked disgusted. “What’s wrong with Jongin?!” I asked looking at him now. “Yeah, what’s wrong with me?” I heard Jongin said as he came behind me and wrapped his hand around my waist. “I told you he’s bad news and yet you didn’t listen!” He exclaimed. “Jongin is not that bad.” I breathed. “He is! Look at him!” He exclaimed. Jongin rolled his eyes. I furrowed my eyebrows and slammed my locker.

“Listen you little asshole, Jongin is perfectly fine. You know nothing of him and yet you’re judging him. You know what?! Stay away from me! You make me sick.” I snapped. Jamie looked at me in astonishment. “Y/N-“ “I SAID GO DUMBASS!” I yelled. He looked at me and then at Jongin with angry eyes. “You did this to her..” He growled. “Come on baby..we don’t need to talk to him..” Jongin said while giving Jamie a death glare and kissing my cheek.

He pulled me away from Jamie and led me to his car. “He makes me sick..” I mumbled crossing my arms as I sat back. Jongin hummed. “Are you hungry?” He asked. “Yeah..” I said putting on my seatbelt and huffing out. Gosh why do people have to me in my business? “Baby.” He called. I turned to him. “Give me a kiss.” He said. I smiled and did so. It’s like he knows that I need this. He always know what I need.

It was later on in the night and I was finishing up homework. After I did so, I went to my closet and smirked. I pulled out his hoodie he gave me and took all of my clothes off. I put on the hoodie so that was the only thing I had on. We both have been busy because we’re starting school so we didn’t have time to have sex. I walked out of my room and went to his. I knocked on the door and waited for him. He and another came to the door.

I gasped and looked in between them. “You can go.” He said to the girl. She nodded and walked out of the door. After she was gone a turned to him. “What was that for?” I asked hurt. “You disrespected me.” He said. “What?! I defended you!!” I exclaimed. He raised an eyebrow. “So you mean that you talking to him and laughing with him is defending me and also respectful?” He asked. Oh my god.. I DIDN’T THINK OF THAT!! “I told you baby..I’m not the one to be played with.” He said.

He turned around to walk away but I stopped him with one word. “Daddy.” I said. He turned around to look at me. “I’m sorry, please don’t punish me this way!” I cried. “Show me that you’re sorry.” He said. I got on my knees and crawled to him. “Please..” I whispered. He smirked. “Follow me my baby..” He said motioning me. I followed after him into his room and he shut the door.

He helped me up on my feet. “You know what to do. Face down and ass up. You made me upset.” He said. I nodded eagerly and did so. The hoodie rode up my butt, revealing my wet heat. He approached behind me and rubbed his hand over my butt. “Already so wet huh?” He asked. I nodded and pushed my butt back into his hand. He spanked me making me moan. “Be patient, Daddy doesn’t like impatient girls. Especially when he’s mad..” He whispered in my ear. I bit my lip. “Sorry Daddy..” I mumbled. He smirked and let out a dark chuckle. “Good girl..” He mumbled.

[uswntxfootball]

Working Overtime (USWNT x Reader)

request: @ko5-greyson​ ; You could do a uswnt x reader where they are overworking themselves with soccer and staying up to late with school work. they don’t notice cause she doesn’t have a roommate and stuff. Everything else is up too you if you want. (This post is way to long sorry)

word count: 1368 ish

the team was prepping hard for the upcoming olympics, including extra practices and trainings every week. for the other players, it doesn’t seem like a big deal, but for you, the 20 year old forward who is also currently attending stanford university, that means staying up until 4 am for classes. 

a/n: for anyone that’s confused, your classes are all online! (also i’m kinda a very big press stand if y’all haven’t noticed :D) also this is a pretty bad imagine so just bear with me here :/

----

“Shit.” You mutter under your breath as you check your watch. Your chemistry lecture had started twenty minutes ago, and you were just now getting out of training. You run out of the weight room as fast as you can, cursing under your breath when you forget your bag, coming back to pick it up, then sprinting out of the weight room and across the street to your hotel. Your teammates stared at you with heavy interest, no one daring to stop you. When you’ve made your way out of the room, it’s Pinoe who’s first to break the silence. “What’s with her?” Everyone shrugs and shakes their head in an “I don’t know” motion. ~~ Everything for the first two years had been smooth sailing, but with the additional practices and trainings for the upcoming Olympics, your life quickly began to spiral out of control. You take a glance over at your clock, sighing when you realize it’s already 3 am. You were thankful you didn’t have a roommate, as your late night study sessions would most likely be of annoyance. You had yet to figure out the last few chemistry problems assigned that day, but unfortunately for you, you had training the next morning at 8. Vlatko would kill you if you missed practice, and your professor would kill you if you didn’t finish the homework. You set an alarm for 4 am, promising yourself to work just one more hour, so then you can arrive to practice with...a healthy...3 hours of sleep..? When 4 am hits, you (thankfully) finish everything, and as soon as your back touches the mattress, you’re out. You arrive to practice the next morning with heavy bags under your eyes, religiously chugging coffee in an attempt to make up for the lack of sleep you’d gotten the night before. Practice was a mess, you were a clumsy mess around the ball, missing shots you’d normally never miss. The team could tell you were off your game, but they just assumed you were up partying and were hungover or something, and so no one commented anything on it. When you’re dismissed and practice ends, you feel like you’ve just run a marathon. You’re ready to pass out from exhaustion, and you want nothing more than to lay down and sleep. But as soon as you step into your room and lay on your bed, you suddenly remember that it’s finals week in two weeks, and you had a lot of catching up to do, after missing your bio labs and physics labs during the time of olympic qualifying matches. You let out a groan and shove your head under a pillow, cursing the gods for making your life so miserable. ~~ With finals week approaching, your life has just gone from busy, to I barely have time to breathe. You got 20 hours of sleep total in the next week, with you pulling all nighters here and there. And as a result, you started arriving to morning training later and later, with a cup of coffee in hand and heavy bags under your eyes. By this point, the team began to worry about you. You were always very adamant about being on time, as you always chided them (particularly Ash) for being late, saying, “Early is on time, and on time is late.” So Friday morning when it’s 8:35 and you still haven’t shown up to practice, the team began to panic. “Do you think she’s okay?” Kelley asked Mal, who gave a halfhearted shrug and whispered, “I hope so.” “She doesn’t have a roommate does she?” “No she doesn’t.” “Should we go check on her?” The duo brought up their request to the team, the team nodding and let them go as they were equally worried about you. And so here they were, Kelley and Mal making their way up to your room, keycard in hand. ~~ What greeted them was the sight of you passed out on your desk, textbooks open and pencil still in hand. The sound of the door closing is what wakes you from your sleep, your eyes widening when you see the two girls standing in your room. You glance at your watch and realize that practice is over. You weren’t just late, you had missed it. “Shit.” You muttered, trying to pack your bags to maybe talk to Vlatko and somehow make up your missed practice. “Y/N.” Kelley says, bringing you out of your desperate scrambling. You pause your efforts and look up. In your hurry you had completely forgotten about the two girls standing here before you. “I’m so sorry.” You stammer apologetically. “I stayed up late studying and I just lost track of time and I j-“ “Y/N.” Mal says sternly, cutting you off. “What’s keeping you up anyways?” Kelley inquires. “I’m studying chemical engineering at Stanford and finals week is coming soon and it’s kicking my ass.” You say with a sigh, missing the way Kelley’s jaw drops in amazement. “You’re studying chemical engineering.” “Yes.” “At Stanford.” “That would be correct.” “While training for the Olympics.” “Yup.” “You’re insane.” “Trust me I know. I just didn’t want Vlatko or my professor or you guys to treat me any different so I haven’t told you all anything...” You look off to the side awkwardly. “Oh Y/N...” Mal moves to give you a hug, with Kelley following suit. “We’ll figure something out okay? We don’t want you killing yourself over this.” You nodded into the hug, unable to keep a tear from falling out. You were so tired and so stressed, it was a miracle you hadn’t fallen apart (completely). You stayed there for a little bit longer, reveling in the warm embrace of your friends. ~~ “You’re studying WHAT?” Vlatko exclaims in surprise. “Chemical engineering” You say softly, worried about his reaction. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?? I mean you’re in your junior year already.” “I just didn’t want to be benched or taken off as a starter because I was in school...” You trailed off. “Especially not for the Olympic roster.” You add. “I see..” Vlatko states, fingers gently drumming on his chin. “Well, I’ll figure something out.” “I’m sure you will. Come to me if you need anything.” “Will do, coach.” ~~ “You’re WHAT??” Your professor exclaims in shock. “I’m a forward for the USWNT and I’m training for the Olympics currently.” You say softly. “Why didn’t you tell me?” “I didn’t want any extensions or extra credit just because I was on a national soccer team..” A similar conversation with Vlatko happens with your professor, and you’re thankful that both your teacher and your coach were so understanding. ~~ “I’m rooming with you now.” Christen declares, bursting into your room at 4 pm. “What? Chris?” You ask, taking your earbuds out. You were in a lecture currently, and you certainly didn’t expect someone to bust into your room. “Oh and me too” Tobin waves from behind Christen. “As your appointed team moms it is our job to make sure that you’re sleeping well and eating well and are healthy so that is exactly what we are going to do.” Christen states, dragging her suitcase through the door. And do that she did, for the next week up until finals, Christen made sure you slept at 11, so you would have enough energy for practice. She made sure you drank plenty of water, and managed your time efficiently to get everything done. With Christen by your side, the next week was a breeze, and you felt less stress than you ever had in your life. Tobin of course, sat around doing Tobin things, playing ping pong against a wall whilst juggling a soccer ball non stop (though Chris would push her out of your room whenever you were in need to study). So when finals week hit, you were more than prepared, all the while tearing up the field during practice. And a week later when you saw the Olympic start up with your name on it, you squealed and hugged Christen and Tobin tight, muttering a million thank yous. You were glad that you had people that cared about you.

[catwatcha]

Pairing: Chan x Reader

Genre: Angst/fluff/smut

Word count: 2153

Warnings: 18+ smut & cursing & fainting

Authors note: shit goes down in this chapter so eeeeeekkkk

You’re too hard to forget.

It’s been one week without any dreams. I have moments where my eyes are closed and I see flashes of images that look like various hospital rooms. But none of them have Chan. I told Jasey what had happened, I think. Honestly my body felt numb and my head was ringing so I don’t know what exactly I said, but I said enough that she would leave me alone, because I don’t want to think about it.

Unfortunately, it’s all I can think about.

It’s Monday morning again. I walk into school and plaster a smile on my face, knowing that I can take off in just six hours. I can do that, right? Yes, I think. I walk over to Jasey as usual, but stop when I see a familiar face. It’s the boy who I saw outside the coffee shop a couple weeks ago. He seems to recognize me too, because he stares at me with wide eyes. “Uhhh,” I say when I look at him, and thankfully Jasey doesn’t seem to notice and interrupts me. “Y/n! You’re here! This is Minho,” she says, and I can see the blush spread across her cheeks. This is her secret. And apparently, mine too. “I’m Y/n,” I say to him, though I’m looking at my shoes. He hesitates, but introduces himself in a similar way. I silently thank him for not saying anything like, ‘I know you’, or, ‘wait you’re the weirdo who’s friends with my girlfriend?’ We shake hands. He smiles. I smile. And then I turn on my heels, because suddenly I feel dizzy and I’m having flashbacks and if I don’t run, my feet might stay grounded forever, in a state of confusion and shock. “Y/n!” Jasey yells after me, but I keep walking, because I don’t know what else to say. I hear a few whispers behind me, and then I feel a hand gently pulling my arm, stopping my escape plan. I don’t want to turn around in fear of explaining myself to Jasey, but this is worse. The person with a grip on my arm is Minho. I see Jasey on the other side of the courtyard, and she knows something because she’s staying put. Does she know what I told him? Does he even know the depth of what I told him? Right now I don’t care. Because no matter what I told them or told myself, the dreams are gone.

Minho lets go of my arm, but I know he wants to know what’s going on. I speak first. “Sorry, I’m running late and I have English and I’m happy for you and Jasey so anyways I’m gonna get going…” I said. “Y/n, yeah?” he says. I nod, and turn away but he reaches for my arm again. “Wait, I want to talk to you for a minute!” he nods over to a bench, inviting me to sit down. But before I can think, my head is spinning and Minho is there and Jasey is rushing over and there I am. I’m shaking, for reasons I don’t know, and there are so many voices yelling at me from reality as well as from my very own mind. My head hits the concrete, and I pass out.

“I’m okay love.” Chan is in a hospital bed. His hair lies flat, and his skin pale. But he still looks like Chan. My Chan. His eyes shine looking up at me, and his lips form into a smile. I hug him. “Why haven’t I been able to see you?” I ask. It’s been days of waiting, hoping, and wondering if he was okay. They wouldn’t let me in, but I knew I could’ve if he wanted me to. “Why didn’t you let me see you?” I asked as my eyes filled with familiar tears. “Because even though I was hurt, I knew that if you saw me it would hurt you too. And seeing you hurt causes me more pain than anything physical ever could.” I thought about his words, but only for a moment. Because the next thing I know, I’m consumed in a kiss that made my heart stop. I missed him. But he’s okay. It’s us against the world, and I knew nothing would change that. We were back. Chan was going to be okay, and so was I.

I woke up in the nurse’s office. I’ve only been here a few times, usually when I faked a cough to get out of class or when I get migraines. This time though it felt like I was in the middle of some depressing party, held just for me. To my right, Jasey and Minho are standing over me, talking in worried tones. About what, I don’t know. To my left, I see my mom, and that’s when I think this is serious. Then again, She was probably just obligated to be called because of the school phone call I’m sure she received. As if I had pushed some sort of button, the all look at me at the exact same time. Well, I think. This is awkward. Mrs. Amy, our school nurse, is the first to speak. “Y/n, can you hear me? You hit your head pretty hard. Do you want some water?” I shake my head. I don’t want water. I want to go back to bed. Because even though my head is actually pounding, and I’m still a bit nauseous, none of it matters right now. Chan is back. Why now? I look at Minho. He looks at me. When I shook his hand, something felt so familiar. Like he was connected somehow, but no matter. “Thank you.” I say, and I’m smiling like an idiot. He looks at me confused, but I get up and I walk out of the crowded office. And I’m running, because I have so much to do but I have only one place to go right now. I’m going to the coffee shop, and I’m not going to be scared to go in this time. It could be the beginning of the rest of my life if I would just take the extra three steps.

Minho’s P.O.V.

“Minho, I’m so confused right now,” Jasey says to me. “We literally just watched Y/n pass out hard, and then run away like she got a shot of adrenaline.” It was about 9 a.m.now, so I was very late to school. I decided to just skip today in general. This was far more interesting than world history. “I don’t know, Jae. I don’t even know her,” I say. Y/n and I hadn’t even really met that day at the coffee shop. Is this about what she said to me then? I barely remember. I just remember trying to comfort someone who looked a bit shaken up. I never thought she might be broken completely. Maybe this has something to do with that Chan kid? Maybe a breakup, who knows. I love Jasey, but do I have to deal with her friend now? It’s bad enough that Chris is already going through some breakup with a girl he won’t tell me about, and he’s slept at my house every night this week. We play music and he reads and I like that he makes me pizza (that boy can fucking cook, even if it’s just simple things), but I don’t know Y/n. I can’t handle this too. “You should talk to her,” I say to Jasey. “She’s just going through something right now,” she says back, and looks down at her shoes. I think. And then I have a stupid brilliant idea, that could help both me and Jae. We were both so caught up with our friends that we never got much time together. “You know,” I say. “If she’s going through a breakup, I may have an idea. Or even not a breakup, but just rough shit. I know it’s hard and stuff, but I think she should talk to one of my friends. Actually, I think they’d get along really well. They could keep each other company.” I mean, Chris and Y/n. I think they’d be cute. “Calum, that’s never going to happen. I’m sorry baby, but Y/n is taken. I mean, sorta.” She’s laughing, like what I said, it was the dumbest idea in the world. Ouch. “She’ll be okay. I’ll talk to her later,” she says. Oh well. Was worth a shot, if not for Y/n, for Chris at least. I apply her last words to him as well. He’ll be okay. Everything will be fine.

Y/n’s P.O.V.

I’m scared again. Five minutes ago, I told myself to take a deep breath and just walk in. That was after the twenty minutes of standing there, pretending to be on my phone and thinking. I did this so nobody would ask me what’s wrong, like Minho did. Big mistake. But now I’m here and I’m scared. Thinking about Chan always made me feel dizzy because I didn't know what was real and what was a dream. It felt like it had all just become one big blur, dragging myself to and from school, skipping my way to meet Chan and trudging my way to meet Jasey at her place. She knew about the shop, and she knew that I’d never gone in, even though I was there so often. After running out of school this afternoon, she deserved a call from me, at the least. So I called her and went over to her place, and here we are back at the same downtown corner with the smell of coffee and muffins drifting through the air. I was smiling like an idiot, and had told Jasey why I was so adamant about getting out of school. I left out the part about Minho. To me he was just another human on this earth who happened to be dating my best friend, but he had a weird effect on me. I definitely didn’t tell Jasey. She didn’t ask. “Are you ready? Let’s just grab something to go, I’m really thirsty anyways.” I knew I couldn’t stand there like an idiot for any longer. I almost lost Chan once, the worst had already happened. I knew I was ready for anything. I took one last deep breath before bracing myself, and I took my first steps into the nostalgic feeling cafe.

I took in this new feeling, both the physical and mental aspects of it. It was exactly the kind of place that I dreamed of spending hours in, reading books and writing poetry. It had dim lights and a few couches, and wooden tables were scattered around the room. It’s exactly what I knew it would be, aside from a few changes here and there, but I couldn’t help but take it all in with wide eyes. Jasey had left to go order a drink for her and myself, and I went to the table that faces the window, like I had known myself to do many times before, yet never before while conscious. This was a feeling that I was starting to like very fast. At first I couldn’t remember why I was even here, but that was only for a moment. I looked around me, but I saw no sign of a dark haired boy with the eyes that I drowned in every night. There was barely anyone here, actually. I still saw my best friends backside at the counter, waiting for our drinks and striking up a conversation with the barista. A few seats over was a boy who caught my eye.

He had bright blonde hair that was down across his forehead. His shirt was tattered, but in a fashionable way, which he wore with black skinny jeans and dirty black converse. His eyes were piercing right into mine, a dark brown that I wish didn’t scare me as much as they did. I looked down at my hands to see them shaking the smallest bit. There was something about his presence that made me uncomfortable, but at the same time like I belonged even more. He looked out of place, but acted like it didn’t matter. Just like me. I looked up again, surprised to see that he was still staring at me with an unknown emotion in his eyes. He looked confused, almost. He stood up, and I unconsciously held my breath, not knowing why he was walking over to my table. The door was behind me, but he wasn’t looking at the door. He was looking right at me, almost as if he was looking through me. He stood 2 feet from me now at a dead stop. I studied his face, while I’m sure mine had “shock” written all over it.

“Allie?”

[quicksilversquared]

The Wavering Peahen: Chapter 8

When Nathalie started feeling oddly ill again, both she and Gabriel were worried that the Peacock Miraculous might somehow (impossibly) be to blame again.

So naturally, they pick someone else to be the Peacock for a bit. You know, as a test subject. Except the new Peacock… doesn’t exactly know that.

links in the reblog

Lila groaned as she woke up. Everything was sore, sore, sore and shifting- however barely- in her bed made it worse. Something- a bedspring?- was stabbing her in the back, and she must have forgotten to take some bracelets off or something because there was definitely something on her wrists. She opened her eyes, about to sit up, and then froze.

Because this was all wrong.

She wasn't in her room, not at all. Maybe the room was mostly dark, but the light filtering in from the window and from the hallway was enough for Lila to see bare white walls, a large lack of furniture, and a couple of machines at her bedside. Lila bolted upright, her eyes flashing around the room, but nothing changed.

She was definitely in a hospital.

Frowning, Lila tried to remember how she had gotten here. Had she fallen at school? Maybe she would be able to pin it on Marinette. Or- no, she remembered what had happened. She had been at their class picnic and had been feeling a bit ill. She had been following Rose to get a container to put her food in, since she hadn't felt like eating, and then- then-

And then there had been nothing. She must have fainted. Presumably someone had called for an ambulance then, and from there she ended up at the hospital.

Lila scowled. So much for her photos being the star of the day. Clearly she should have faked a text from her mom about a last-minute trip and left before everyone started eating. Then she could have gone home and laid down and slept off whatever bug she had, she would have had an opportunity to have another story, and she wouldn't have completely shot herself in the foot by making her collapse the story of the day.

Maybe she could spin it? Lila didn't know how- her head still hurt a bit, probably from hitting the ground- but a hospitalization surely meant that her mom would let her take a couple days off from school. That should be enough time for her to come up with something halfway believable.

And speaking of her mom... Lila scowled around the room. She could see a chair for visitors to sit in next to her bed, but it was empty. What, was a visit to the hospital not enough to get her mom to come in and make sure that her precious daughter to visit her? Lila would have thought that her mom would have dropped everything and rushed to her side at once.

Maybe she was just visiting with the doctors or something. That must be it. Yes, she would be talking to the doctors and making sure that they were running every test that might be needed to done to figure out what was wrong with Lila. Maybe they were going over results now- except no, results already would mean that Lila had been out for a while. And since there was no reason for her to have been out for a while- she knew enough to know that fainting and being out for more than a couple of minutes wasn't good, and being out for hours was even worse- that meant that results already was doubtful.

Lila shifted, frowning. Okay, so maybe her mom was probably with the doctor. Fine. Great. But why was she all alone in her room? Surely they didn't normally bring in unconscious people, plop them in a bed- a really uncomfortable bed, by the way, did they never replace these mattresses or something?- and then leave them on their own? Really, there should be some nurses hovering around, waiting for Lila to wake up so that they could explain what was going on. Instead, they had let Lila wake up in the dark and by herself.

It was poor customer service, really. Lila was definitely going to leave a terrible review for them. Seriously, wasn't it Hospital 101 to not leave patients alone? Lila was going to get up and go find someone now, so that they could tell her what was going on and find her mom for her-

Lila froze, her legs swung over the side of the bed. The movement had made her head swim, but that wasn't what had given Lila pause. No, the thing- things- that had stopped her in her tracks were the handcuffs snapped around her wrists.

What?

Why- why would she be handcuffed to her bed? That made no sense! Lila frantically wracked her brains, trying to make sense of what was going on. Why would anyone arrest her? She hadn't done anything wrong- well, nothing that would warrant her getting arrested.

Well. Except for being Pavona, but how would anyone have found that out? She hadn't transformed outside of her house for over a week, and she had always been careful when she transformed and detransformed. Maybe one of the doctors had found the pin on her- but no, nobody would actually recognize it. It would just look like a pretty pin. She would be worried about Duusu exposing himself to someone to get her in trouble, but she had ordered him not to do that. As far as she could tell, Duusu couldn't expose himself to others without her permission.

So what was going on?

Scowling, Lila yanked at the chains, part of her expecting that the cuffs were just a figment of her imagination, maybe, or maybe just a dream. The metal bit into her wrists, though, assuring Lila that they were, in fact, real.

Lila kicked her bedframe, then let out a curse at the pain that shot up her leg. Someone had better come to explain what was going on now. She- she couldn't- there was no way that she was in trouble, there had to be some other explanation for this-

The unmistakable sound of a key in the door lock caught Lila's attention, and her head whipped up. At once, she shifted back to recline against her pillows, working a pleasant look onto her face.

She didn't know how much people knew. She didn't know why she was in handcuffs- not for sure. It would be better to play innocent and see if she could still twist things in her favor.

No, not if. How she could best twist things in her favor. Lila would not admit defeat.

The lock gave, and three figures entered. One flicked the light on- Lila squinted against the unpleasant glare, doing her best to not screw up her face and look mad or something. She had to play the part of a misunderstood girl who got framed for- well, for something.

Hopefully the nurse and officers approaching her bed now would give something away.

"Ah, I see you're awake," the nurse told Lila. She didn't smile, which- uh, weren't nurses supposed to smile, to set their patients at ease? This hospital was really earning a terrible review. "I had wondered if the heroes maybe pulled the healing too early, but it looks like they timed it just right."

"Well, they are the experts," the first officer said before turning his attention to Lila. His gaze wasn't the least bit friendly. "So. Pavona. You're awake. Now- we have questions."

  Nothing that Lila said could persuade the officers who visited her at the hospital that she hadn't been Pavona, much to her displeasure. The Peacock had been found on her when she collapsed- all of the questioning in the world couldn't make the police officers tell her who had found the Peacock and actually been able to identify it- and the superheroes had been contacted. Duusu- the absolute traitor- had somehow managed to confirm Lila's identity plus Hawkmoth and Mayura's identities, so now all three of the city's former superheroes were in prison, or- in Lila's case- on her way there.

(Lila hoped that they would be at different facilities. She had been the one to set off the chain of events that had resulted in his arrest- even if it had been accidental and not her fault, since he hadn't told her that the Miraculous was broken!- and he knew who she was. That alone was a little scary, but she wasn't going to admit that. Much.)

(Okay, maybe she would play up her fear in front of the judge. Maybe she would get off easier if she told him that she was so frightened of what Hawkmoth- who, by the way, no one had told her his actual identity yet, even though she had asked- would do to her or her mom that she had had no option. If she could play things up for pity...yes, that could work.)

For the time being, though, Lila had to suffer through the indignity of actually going to jail after she got released from the hospital. Her holding cell thankfully wasn't terrible- but it also was a cell in the jail's medical center, and she wasn't going to be there forever, just until the doctors thought that she was more stable.

More stable, or at least until they were convinced that she wasn't going to pass out at random and get injured. Since the only way Lila was going to heal from the damage that the broken Miraculous had done to her body was by wearing the fixed Miraculous and the superheroes wouldn't let her wear it now that she was out of her coma, she wasn't really going to get better.

(Lila had a whole bunch of opinions about that and how it wasn't really superhero-y to make their former enemies suffer just out of spite, but it was probably in her best interest to not actually vocalize that yet.)

The trial started pretty quickly after she was discharged from the hospital. Apparently she had been in a coma for several months (which, uh, talk about yikes), which had allowed enough time for evidence to get collected and organized and for a trial- a jury trial- to be pulled together.

Lila had had a hard time not reacting to that particular bit of news when the lawyer that her mom hired had told her. She knew that jury trials only happened in France for the most serious of crimes, ones that tended to have really long sentences.

(That- that was terrifying. Lila didn't want to spend the rest of her days rotting behind bars. But she had a good lawyer- her mom had made sure of it- so that wasn't very likely, right? Right?)

Once the trial started, it didn't take long for the court to establish that there was no doubt about whether or not Lila had been Pavona. The fact that the Peacock Miraculous had been found on her (Lila still didn't know who had found it- the name, for some reason, was annoyingly staying redacted) and the cursed coma that she had fallen into that had only been undone by her wearing the fixed Peacock pin were conclusive enough evidence. Lila's lawyer had advised her before the trial to not try to fight that part of the accusation, because the evidence was just too strong. There was no way that the Peacock would have helped her if she had fallen ill for some reason.

That meant that Lila's only hope would be for a reduced sentence, and that would be based entirely on if she could argue that her participation was forced and not entirely willing. If she could convince the jury, then Lila should be golden.

It was a good thing that Lila's biggest talent was lying and convincing others of things that were entirely untrue.

The prosecutor watched her critically as she stepped up to the stand for the first time in the trial, everything about him screaming strict and severe. This wasn't someone who was about to believe her, no matter what she said. Lila felt herself waver for a moment, but she forced herself to stand up straight. This was no time to show weakness. Not real weakness, at any rate. Manufactured weakness... that was another thing altogether. She had an audience, and she had to play to it.

"Ms. Rossi. Your lawyer claimed that you were intimidated into accepting this position, but we have audio evidence of you willingly agreeing to help Hawkmoth. Care to explain?"

Lila very nearly gulped at that- audio? Hawkmoth had gotten audio of her agreeing to be Pavona? What a slimy, stinking asshole- but years of practice with lying helped her keep a straight face. Her mind raced, working to come up with an excuse, but she was coming up blank. Time to buy herself some time. "Audio? What- what audio? If there was real audio, it would show that I was terrified!"

The prosecutor looked unimpressed. "The audio has already been analyzed by a voice expert and has declared your voice and the one in the recording to be a match. We can call Dr. Hillary Blanc to the witness stand after this, your Honor."

The judge nodded. "That would be preferable. But for now- I would like to hear this recording before we continue with our questioning."

"Of course, your Honor."

Lila's attorney gestured for her to return to her seat as the prosecution set up their audio. He looked rather irritated as she sat down next to him, and it didn't take a genius to figure out why. Audio of Lila agreeing willingly- eagerly, she knew how she had sounded when she took the Miraculous- was going to make his job a million times harder.

It was also going to make Lila's job a million times harder. She was the one with the rest of her life on the line, really, and she needed to be able to argue her way out of the corner.

"The audio is ready," the prosecutor announced. The judge nodded.

"Proceed."

The prosecutor nodded, pressing a button to start the audio. There was the sound of a window opening, and then the unmistakable sound of Lila's voice eagerly greeting Hawkmoth, offering up the information that her mother was asleep and they were alone. And then-

"So, uh, how can I help you? Do you need an akuma with specific powers or something? I can do that!"

-the eager, oh-so-willing offer to help Hawkmoth. She didn't just sound willing to do it, she sounded positively bursting with enthusiasm to help out a supervillain.

This was bad. This was very, very bad. But Lila could still get out of this, she was sure. Lila's mind whirred, and almost immediately landed on an idea.

No one would be able to prove that she was lying, of that Lila was positive. Her idea was foolproof.

Well. Hopefully.

Lila plastered what she hoped was an appropriately shocked and confused look on her face as the recording went on. She forced herself to ignore the jurors on their bench, considering her with increasing disdain as the recording went on and Lila sounded nothing short of enthusiastic and eagerly consenting to Hawkmoth's suggestion.

She couldn't let their current opinions put her off. She had an idea to discredit the recording- or at the very least, throw a healthy amount of doubt on it- and after that, hopefully they would change their minds about her.

"Where was this recording found?" the judge asked once the audio came to an end. "And by whom?"

"In Mr. Agreste's office, by the police," the prosecutor told him. "They have the original recording, this is a copy."

"Okay." The judge's eyes swung to Lila. "Ms. Rossi, back to the stand. Please explain this recording."

"That's not even close to what happened!" Lila exclaimed once she had dashed back up to the stand, pressing a hand to her chest earnestly as she turned her eyes to the judge and the jurors. "He must have faked it- and I bet I even know how! The Peacock makes sentimonsters, everyone knows that. He's impersonated people before- he impersonated Ladybug, everyone knows that! He must have done that to make the recording."

There was a pause.

"How was Hawkmoth meant to do that when you had the Peacock?" the prosecutor asked tartly. She narrowed her eyes at Lila. "This sounds like another weak excuse."

"He probably made the recording before he gave me the Peacock." Lila bit back the obviously. There was no point in irritating anyone in the courtroom. If she could get this excuse to work, then she could maybe get off with a lighter sentence. Her reputation in Paris would still be toast, but if she just got a rap on the wrist for being a supervillain under duress, maybe she and her mom could move and she could start rebuilding her life once her sentence was over. If this didn't work, then it was game over. "He had to know that I wouldn't be fully willing, but he wanted to be ready to stab me in the back as soon as possible. He-" Lila faked a half-sob, pressing a hand to her lips. "I was in too deep before I could figure out how to fix it, and then he kept threatening to hurt me or my mom if I tried to get out of it. He said that he would tell everybody who I was!"

There was a pause. The judge, Lila was glad to see, finally looked a bit unsure, as did most of the jury. Fantastic.

"Why should we believe that?" the prosecutor asked after a moment. "Lila Rossi has a history of lying, her record shows that. She lies to get out of consequences and to get others in trouble and for her own gain."

"But you do have to consider that there is a possibility of the tape being faked," Lila's attorney argued, finally- finally!- making himself useful and speaking up. "There is magic at play here, and you have to admit that Mr. Agreste is a cunning businessman. He is a planner. It would not have been out of character to do exactly as Ms. Rossi described. After all, he handed a broken Miraculous to a minor for her to use without warning her of the consequences of using it."

"The defense has a good point," the judge agreed, though the reluctance was clear on his face. "I suppose we should ask the superheroes if there is a way to prove the authenticity of the recording and if not..."

He trailed off, clearly unsure. Lila forced herself not to visibly preen. Her lie had landed perfectly. She couldn't relax yet, though. Any slip-ups now could ruin her lie and put her right back on square one.

"We clearly need time to review the evidence and pull in more experts," the judge decided after a moment. "We will adjourn for the day."

Lila smiled.

  Lila had been feeling pretty proud of herself for the rest of the day and overnight, doing her best not to smirk when she thought about the fast one that she had just pulled on the judge. Maybe they didn't fully believe her, not yet, but she had gotten the audio recording all but thrown out in court. Without it, she should have a much easier time in getting her sentence argued down to a small slap.

A small slap would be irritating, but not the end of the world. Lila could work with that.

And then she had walked into the court room the next day to see Ladybug and Chat Noir waiting, Duusu floating serenely above Ladybug's shoulder. Next to them sat Alya, who gave Lila a disgusted look when she spotted her.

Lila hadn't been expecting them. What were they supposed to add to the trial?

Oh, right. The judge had suggested that they pull in the experts on the Miraculous, as if they weren't just a bunch of kids themselves. They weren't experts, they just happened to have superpowers. That, and they got lucky in battles a lot, and really, the whole supervillain downfall was just one big stroke of luck for them. It wasn't as though Ladybug and Chat Noir had somehow outwitted the supervillains or something.

Just like every other day, all of the jurors filed in, followed by the judge. Lila suffered through all of the opening formalities- seriously, there was so much needless pomp that could just be done away with, it was such a major snoozefest- and then they actually got to the whole arguments bit again.

...in retrospect, the whole trial was just a heap of suffering through endless formalities and arguments and blah blah blahs. Lila would say that she would rather be anywhere else, but...

Well, for her, the only other place that she would be was at the jail, in her cell. That was boring, too, but at least Lila could get up and walk around and not have to pretend to be all apologetic and sweet all the time.

"Before we start, I want to say that Duusu cannot be recorded by either cameras or microphones," Ladybug told the courtroom once she was called on. "It's just the nature of kwamis. Machines can't record them."

The judge nodded, flashing a smile- a smile!- at Ladybug. "Thank you for that heads-up, Ladybug. We will ensure that we give enough time between questions for our court recorder to get everything that, ah, Duusu says."

"We also brought video evidence from the battles that Pavona joined in person," Ladybug spoke up again. She gestured to Alya. "Most of these clips came from the Ladyblog, though we got permission to also grab footage from several news stations. Alya Cesare here has compiled all of the clips for easy viewing."

"And what are these clips supposed to prove that we didn't already know?" Lila's attorney demanded. "We already know that she had the Miraculous, that's nothing new."

Alya stood up, very deliberately not looking at Lila. "All of these clips show that Pavona seemed to have her whole heart in the battle. She was fighting to the best of her ability-" her lips twitched, but she didn't add any commentary to that- "which you wouldn't expect from someone who was only fighting because she was being forced to."

"We will review the evidence," the judge told her. "Thank you."

"Objection to both!" Lila's attorney called. "How are we supposed to know that this kwami will tell the truth? And the videos- that's very subjective."

"We have also pulled in several behavioral experts to watch the videos and then give us their independent analysis of the body language in them," the prosecutor told the courtroom. "They can step outside while the others are giving their analysis to prevent them from influencing each other. All of the experts have been previously used by the court to review video before, and all have been deemed to give impartial analysis."

The judge nodded, looking pleased. "Fantastic."

"Objection," Lila's attorney called out again. "The clips could already have a bias to them. They've been picked out deliberately to push a narrative."

The prosecutor smirked. "We also have compiled all known footage of Pavona in battles. If the defense would prefer, we can present that rather than the cut version."

The judge turned to Lila's attorney. "Is that acceptable?"

Lila's attorney nodded, though he didn't look happy about it. "It is. Though- again, there is the matter of if this kwami can be trusted to tell the truth. We don't know enough about them to be sure."

The judge turned back to Ladybug. "Is there a way to address that?"

"There is." Ladybug smiled up at the judge, clearly fully at ease. She held up the Peacock Miraculous. "I thought that the best way to approach this would be to have a neutral party wear the pin- referring to you, of course, your Honor. Kwamis have to answer questions that their wielders ask honestly, to the best of their ability. If they don't know or cannot say, they will say as much." She held up another pin. "I also brought the Butterfly Miraculous, in case you wish to talk to both kwamis."

The judge looked surprised, then nodded and addressed Lila's attorney. "Mr. Nelson, does that address your concerns?"

Lila's attorney looked as though he had swallowed a lemon. "It does, your Honor."

Lila bit back her scowl. Stupid overly-prepared superheroes. How did they somehow think of everything? Couldn't they just let go of the issue for once and let Lila off? They could consider the social ostracization and complete destruction of her social status as her punishment.

"Approach, then," the judge told Ladybug. "We might as well start with talking to Duusu. Then we can let you and Chat Noir go on your way while we review the footage from the battles. You two have already spent plenty of time in courtrooms this summer."

Ladybug smiled and nodded, hopping to her feet and approaching the desk. She handed over the brooch, and the judge pinned it to his robes. Once Ladybug had sat down again, he addressed Duusu. "Please move to the witness stand."

"Of course!" Duusu zipped over, hovering in front of the microphone. "I'm ready when you are!"

Lila's eyes narrowed at the kwami. The airheadedness and naivety were nowhere to be seen as the little kwami replied to the judge's questions. Duusu seemed fully with it and sharp as a needle as he gave his answers. Lila had never seen the kwami act like that before, which begged the question of why.

Did the kwami switch personalities depending on the holder? No, that didn't make sense. There was no reason for any kwami under Lila's control to be an airhead. Which meant that he must have been acting when he was with Lila. All of the questions, all of the playing dumb, all of the forcing her to actually explain what she was doing, all of the ticking her off...

The little asshole must have been doing it deliberately.

In her seat, Lila silently fumed. She had put up with Duusu's ditzy personality for weeks, assuming that it was the kwami's nature and that couldn't be changed. The questions had nearly driven her up the wall- had driven her up the wall- and it had been entirely on purpose.

Lila bit back her scowl, slumping back in her seat and tuning Duusu out. It didn't really matter what exactly Duusu said, after all. Lila knew that he had to tell the truth, and the truth was that she had joined Hawkmoth willingly and eagerly, no blackmail needed on his part. She had wanted to see the superheroes defeated, and that was all the motivation that she had needed.

There was still all of the battle footage to go through, but by now Lila knew that all of her escapes were closing off. The evidence was piling up against her too fast, and the dark looks that Lila had been getting from the jury spoke volumes. The judge was asking Duusu about Lila's lies now, and it wouldn't be long before everyone in the room knew how to pick out Lila's manipulations and lies, and all of her attempts to control the narrative would be shot down immediately.

Now all she could hope was that the judge went easy on her sentencing.

  It was no surprise when the jury came back and announced her guilty on all counts. The sentencing, though...

Lila had come up with a whole slew of scenarios, all sorts of outcomes from the best (no charges) to the more realistic yet still optimistic (charges for being Pavona but reduced because of being pressured into it), then slightly less optimistic, all the way up to what she had thought was a worst case scenario.

This was way worse that her worst case scenario. Way, way worse.

Lila sank back into her chair, staring blankly at nothing as everyone around her started packing up, the prosecuting team chatting cheerfully with each other while Lila's side of the room- Lila's mom and her lawyer- silently gathered up their things. Fifty years? That was forever! Wasn't there supposed to be some leniency for crimes done by underage kids? Like, her brain wasn't fully developed yet or whatever and she was supposed to be more prone to stupid decisions and everything. Surely she should be getting, like, juvenile detention. A permanent mark on her record. Maybe a couple of years of jail once she aged out of juvie.

She had been right about getting sent to juvie. The courts weren't about to send her to an adult prison when she was so much younger than most of the prisoners there, and besides, she had school to finish. Lila would be going to juvenile detention until she was 18, and after that...

Prison. Years and years and years of prison. Way more than Lila had ever expected.

She was going to be old and grey by the time she got out. Old and grey and with a completely destroyed reputation. Lila was basically going to be condemned to be in the poorhouse once she got out, which-

That wasn't what she had envisioned for her future. Not even close.

As the officers came up to collect her so that they could head back to the jail, Lila clenched her fist. Her entire future was gone, just like that. All of her dreams of schmoozing with famous people and marrying rich were destroyed. Just because- because-

Because Hawkmoth hadn't warned her about the side effects of the Miraculous. Because he had asked her to use the Peacock instead of just using her as a frequent akuma, willing to take on whatever shape and powers he wanted. Because Ladybug had been an infuriating interfering busybody who couldn't leave people alone and had to stick her nose where it didn't belong, when Lila's lies hadn't been hurting anyone.

Lila bit back her snarl. She wished that she had never come to Paris. She wished that she had never heard of superheroes. If things had gone one tiny bit differently...

This was all Ladybug's fault. If she hadn't interfered, Lila wouldn't have had to retaliate. And now..

Now her life was ruined.

[gamerwoo]

[The Pack Next Door] Mingi: Friends With Benefits (Part Three)

(photo edit courtesy of @songmingki​)

Characters: Mingi x female reader

Genre/warnings: werewolf au, friends to lovers au, a tiiiiiny bit of angst, smut (very awkward attempt at phone sex, masturbation, sorta kinda dom!mingi????)

Word count: 3,306

Summary: Growing up, you and Mingi were inseparable. You’d been friends your entire life and, as far as you knew, things were never any different. But what you don’t know is that Mingi imprinted on you when he was 15 and first turned into a werewolf, and he had been trying to keep it a secret ever since. And with the awful timing of mating season, he’s hoping he can somehow keep the facade up.

Tags: @sakura-uji​​ @xummie​​ @peachy-hoon​​ @psshwa​​ @uglyratlmao​​ @uwu-yifan​

Previous | Next | Friends With Benefits Masterlist

Mingi hardly slept that night because his body was rapidly heating up and his dick was straining in his boxers. All telltale signs of mating season starting. He was panting, sweaty, and his skin was extremely sensitive by the time the sun rose and his brothers woke up for classes and/or work. Hongjoong went to check on him, seeing Mingi sprawled out on his bed with nothing but boxers on, his bedding kicked off, and his eyes closed as he groaned out in discomfort.

“Yeah,” he sighed, angling his head so he could still look at Mingi, but his order would reach the curious pack behind him, “we’re keeping _____ away from him for the next week.”

Mingi let out a strangled groan, “Don’t say her name.”

Yunho let out a deep sigh, “I’ll go get the chains.”

-

Mingi was sick. That meant you were going to take it upon yourself to take care of him. He may have wanted you to stay away the other times he was sick, but you knew his friends were at school today, meaning there was nobody to care for him. But you didn’t want to just waltz into their house, so you tried texting him instead.

Normally, Mingi didn’t answer his phone when he was in rut. He couldn’t really focus on anything else except how hot and uncomfortable and needy he felt, so texting or calling anyone wasn’t really something he wanted to do. But he just so happened to be already looking in the direction of his nightstand, and he saw your name pop up, and that alone sent his heart into a frenzy.

_____💕: how ya feelin bud?

_____💕: i can come over if you need me to

God, just the thought alone of you coming over had Mingi biting his lip to stifle a moan. He absolutely knew that wasn’t a good idea, but he really wanted to tell you yes. He wasn’t going to, but he wanted to.

Mingi💜: it’s fine i’ll be okay

_____💕: do you need anything?

An idea popped into his head that might be very, very stupid. But you were texting him already and literally anything from you would be good for him. He just had to be not creepy about it.

Mingi💜: you could brighten up my day and send me a selfie :)

_____💕: wow ur a simp even when ur sick lmao

It wasn’t out of character for him to hype you up or anything. He always said cheesy things about how seeing you made his day better or missing you if he didn’t see you all weekend or something. So you really didn’t think anything of it, snapping a cute picture of yourself smiling with your tongue poking out before sending it to Mingi.

_____💕: feel better butthead 💕

There was absolutely nothing dirty or sexual about the photo sent to him -- well, other than just the hint of cleavage from your loose tank top you were wearing under your flannel -- but it still made Mingi somehow grow even harder than he was before which he didn’t think was possible. His ember eyes bored into his phone screen as he stared at you, whimpering because you were so fucking cute and he wanted you so badly but he couldn’t have you. He just had a selfie of you that he could get off to.

-

“Can I ask something...weird?” Jongho wondered as the two of you sat in the trunk of his car at the gas station, sipping your slushies together.

“Yeah, why not?” you shrugged.

“Have you and Mingi ever like...done anything?” he asked slowly, turning his head to look at you.

“You really won’t let that girlfriend/boyfriend thing go, huh?” you chuckled.

But he didn’t smile like you were, “I’m genuinely asking. You guys are so close and you’ve been friends since you were born. Haven’t you ever felt feelings toward him?”

“What, are you snooping for Mingi?”

“No, I wouldn’t tell him anything.”

“But he’s your friend.”

“So are you.”

For as long as you’d known Jongho, you knew he was trustworthy. He never snitched on anybody, he would just kind of stand by and watch madness ensue -- but Yeosang, on the other hand would snitch to make the madness move faster. So you knew that if Jongho said he wouldn’t tell anybody, he really wasn’t going to.

“We haven’t done anything, no,” you answered truthfully.

Noticing something in your tone, Jongho quirked an eyebrow, “I’m sensing a but in there.”

You let out a sigh before you took a sip from your slushie, “I guess I kinda...have liked him for a while...?”

“Really?”

Of course he knew that, he knew you felt the imprinting pull, too.

“But we’ve been friends for a long time so it would be weird,” you shrugged, mostly trying to reason with yourself for the hundredth time more than you were trying to convince Jongho.

“Ah, I doubt that,” he chuckled. “You’re pretty much the only girl Mingi even brings around.”

You snorted, “Really?”

“Why do you seem so shocked?”

“I mean...he’s a good looking dude, and he’s a sweetheart so I figured--”

Even though Jongho was well aware of the reason why Mingi never brought other girls back to their house, he scoffed and said, “You’re forgetting he’s a dumbass.”

“Okay,” you laughed in agreement, “he’s kind of a himbo sometimes.”

“Kind of?” Jongho asked. “Sometimes?”

‘Considering he’s such a big, clueless idiot that he hasn’t asked you out or told you the truth since he was 15,’ he wanted to add on, but he knew better than to do that.

“...He’s a himbo.”

Jongho nodded as he took a sip of his own slushie, “Absolutely.”

-

Mingi’s ringing phone didn’t necessarily break him out of his slumber, but he was trying really hard to sleep for a little bit. No matter how many times he jerked himself off, nothing was ever good enough. That’s how it always was. It might work for a few minutes if he was lucky, but he’d just get worked up again. He needed his mate. He was the only one in the pack who knew who his mate was, and because of that, he needed you to actually feel satisfied while he was going through rut. But how could he ask that of you?

With a groan, he lifted his head that was soaking his pillow with sweat to see who it was. He knew most of the pack had gone out to the movies, and Jongho was out with you for the afternoon and evening, so he had to make sure it wasn’t any one of them with some emergency.

But when your name was glowing on his screen, he scrambled with shaky hands to pick up the phone.

“Hello?” he rasped out before clearing his throat.

“Hey,” you replied casually, your phone on speaker as you made yourself a sandwich in your tiny apartment on campus, “I just wanted to check and make sure you were still alive.”

Mingi sighed as he threw his head back down into his pillow. Just hearing your voice affected him, and he struggled to keep any odd noises he might make inside.

“Uh huh,” he groaned softly.

“Yeah, sure sounds like it,” you joked with a chuckle. 

Mingi’s hand inched its way down to his boxers, his hardened member hardly having any sort of relief that day. But once his fingertips grazed the outline, he realized what he was subconsciously doing and stopped himself. He couldn’t just get himself off while talking to you on the phone. That wasn’t okay.

“It’s not too bad, is it?” your voice was softer this time when you spoke; it was more caring.

His lips pressed together in a thing line, trying to keep the moan bubbling in his throat from slipping out. Your voice just sounded so nice, and it wasn’t like you would know, right? If he was sneaky, it would be fine, right? 

“Just-- J-just a fever,” he stammered out, letting his hand slip into his boxers and wrap around his dick.

“Mingi, that doesn’t sound good,” you frowned, knowing sometimes a fever could be serious.

“You do, though,” he breathed out without thinking, his eyes fluttering shut. Even though he was still stuck using his own hand, your voice definitely helped.

“Huh?”

His eyes snapped open, “I, uh-- I-it’s cool, though. I-I’m fine. I feel okay, j-just--”

He let out a gasp, biting down on the side of his hand by his thumb before he could continue.

“J-just a fever. That’s all.”

“Are you positive?” you wondered, bringing your sandwich to your room along with your phone. “You sound like...weird.”

“Hard day,” he replied through clenched teeth.

If you knew what was really going on, you would’ve laughed at the unintentional pun.

“Wanna talk about it?” you offered, kicking your door shut softly.

“N-no, just--” the sigh he let out sounded more stressed to you, but it was actually sexual frustration. “Just need some kind of...r-release.”

“Could always fuck somebody,” you suggested with a shrug. “That’s what people do, right?”

Mingi almost choked on air hearing you say that, “W-what?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know,” you snorted. “Mingi, I’m well aware you’re not a virgin and there’s no way you don’t sleep with people. Look at you, dude!”

You believed that maybe Jongho had never seen Mingi bring any girls home, but there was no way he didn’t get around. Mingi was one of the best men on earth, hands down. Besides, his friends had already snitched on him before, telling you all the times he’d had flings or one-night-stands -- but they kept out the fact it was because he was desperate and couldn’t have you.

“I don’t exactly have a lot of f-female friends, _____,” he said in a breathy chuckle, “and I’m not in a good s-situation to go make any.”

“Just get a friends with benefits. I mean, you’re around your friends all the time and they’re single.”

His hand completely stopped as he whined your name in annoyance. His pack were the last people he wanted to think about right now.

“I don’t like guys, alright?” he huffed.

“What about your friends that aren’t guys?”

“That’s literally only you.”

You weren’t sure why you suddenly felt tingly...down there, but you tried to ignore it.

“I mean,” you began slowly around a mouthful of bread and meat, “I’d offer to assist you, bud, but--”

“Y-you would?” Mingi quickly asked.

Your chewing stopped, your entire body freezing as you looked at your phone. Were you really about to do this? If you replied how you wanted to, you might ruin your friendship forever.

Mingi heard your muffled voice like you were eating food quietly say, “Yeah.”

‘Don’t moan, don’t moan, don’t moan,’ was all he could think as he covered his mouth with his hand until the urge passed.

“But, I mean,” you spoke up after you swallowed your food, afraid that his silence meant he was weirded out by your statement, “only ‘cause we’re friends and like, I guess some friends help other friends out like that? But I can’t go there anyway because you’re sick and, like--”

“W-what if,” he cut you off, “we used our ph-phones...?”

You raised your eyebrows, “Have you done that before?”

“Yeah,” he admitted. “Haven’t you?”

The only times you’d ever done anything remotely like that was when you were seeing some college guy toward the end of your freshman year of college. He suggested the idea a few times and he’d get himself off on the phone while you sat on your couch and ate snacks and half-assed being into it and paying attention. In reality, you were watching Mulan while it was muted and with subtitles on because you really didn’t even want to be with the guy anymore but you wanted to tell him in person and he was out of town. So technically, no, you hadn’t. And it seemed awkward.

“I-I can guide you through it,” he promised before quickly adding on, “I-if you want to! Only if you w-want to.”

For once during one of these conversations, you actually put your food down and gave your phone your complete, undivided attention. Because it was Mingi.

“Y-yeah, sure,” you decided.

Mingi let out a breath of relief as his hand resumed its position around his length, and began moving up and down his shaft, “Okay, you have to take your jeans off.”

You weren’t sure how or why, but Mingi suddenly sounded much more assertive. He still sounded a bit strained and kind of tired, but he wasn’t stuttering anymore. He seemed more sure of his words.

You undid your jeans and shoved them very ungracefully off of yourself, kicking them onto the floor next to the couch, “Done.”

“Now, I want you to just tease yourself like you normally do,” he breathed. He wanted to just go easy on you since he knew you hadn’t done this before and he didn’t want you to be uncomfortable, so he figured doing something you were used to would be the best way to do that. “Whatever starts to get you more worked up.”

You suddenly blanked on every sexual thing you’d ever done. How did you normally masturbate? When was the last time you’d even done that? What even got you turned on? Yes, Mingi’s voice was making you feel some sort of heat in your lower region but you still felt a little weird and confused trying to do this.

Still you trailed a finger down to your clothed clit and started lightly rubbing circles. That was what he meant, right? God, were you actually questioning if you were doing phone sex correctly?

“Tell me how it feels,” Mingi groaned. “I wanna hear your voice.”

Had it been literally any other guy trying to do this with you, you wouldn’t even bother trying to pretend. You were the type to shut someone down and not even bother trying to humor them -- except that one time but you felt pity for the poor clueless idiot. But this was Mingi and you really wanted to help him out even if you couldn’t do anything for yourself.

“I’d rather it was you,” you huffed with more whine in your voice than you expected. And it wasn’t a lie, you really would prefer Mingi did this to you instead of yourself because you just felt awkward.

The moan he let out of your name had heat shoot straight through you, and you found yourself dragging two fingers up and down your clothed core, and it actually felt a little less weird now.

“I wish it were me, too,” he breathed, and you heard him shifting on his bed. “Pretend it’s me, okay? My hand sliding into your panties and my finger going into you.”

You did exactly as he said, putting your hand under the waistband of your underwear and inserting your index finger into your heat. Mingi heard the shaky breath leave your lips, and he let out another deep moan as his own hand sped up. 

“Your fingers are way longer than mine, though,” you chuckled lightly as you slowly pumped your finger in and out of yourself.

“Mm, so they’d fill you up even better.”

The quiet, involuntary moan you let out at his words almost made him cum right on the spot. It was one of the best sounds he’d ever heard, and he just wanted to hear it over and over again. He wished he could hear it in person.

“Say more stuff like that,” you requested as heat rushed to your cheeks.

His eyes closed as he imagined all the things he would want to do to you, and repeated it to you. How he wanted to fuck you with his fingers and his tongue until your legs were trembling and your thighs were squeezing around his head. How he wanted to work you up until you were begging him to properly fuck you. And the way he said all of that and the way he moaned between sentences and words had you adding a second finger and rubbing your clit as you rocked your hips and moaned out his name.

“Fuck, you sound so wet,” he whimpered, sounding so much more needy than he had while he was growling in his deep voice how hard he’d make you cum. “A-are you close?”

“Yeah,” you breathed, your voice higher in pitch as you felt the knot in your stomach tightening more and more and more.

Mingi was struggling so hard to hold on but it was difficult to. He wanted to cum so badly but he didn’t want to until you did. Somehow, even in this situation he was in, he was more concerned about you getting off than he was about himself.

“Fuck, _____, I’m gonna cum,” he said in an airy moan, fucking into his fist.

“Cum for me, Mingi,” you told him, squeezing your eyes shut as you tried to reach your release.

That was it for him. Hearing you tell him to cum had thick ropes of white covering his stomach, chest, and hand as he let out loud moans of your name, followed by loud panting once he’d come down from his high. But what you didn’t know was that his cock was still throbbing and hard in his hand, so he continued.

“I need you to cum, _____,” he whined, sounding like he hadn’t even gotten any relief from his orgasm. “Fuck, please cum for me. I want to hear you.”

“I-- I--” you struggled with words because while you were so close to the edge, you couldn’t quite get there and it was frustrating. “Shit, I’m gonna--”

“Be good for me, _____,” his voice was airy still, but it was deeper again. “Cum for me and say my name nice and loud.”

You clenched around your fingers as you came with a loud and high, “Oh god, Mingi,” that even had him cumming right then for a second time. Hearing your moans and whimpers of his name as you came was enough to throw him into his second orgasm, which somehow was even more satisfying than the first.

Satisfying enough to make his erection go down.

You relaxed back into your couch, slowly removing your fingers from yourself as you opened your eyes and looked at your phone as if you were expecting to share awkward glances with your best friend.

You didn’t feel awkward, though, and neither did he. The haze of the moment began to wash away, and you thought you’d be left feeling uncomfortable and unable to even stay on the phone. But you both felt...the same. You felt comfortable, like you were just having a regular conversation.

“You okay?” he asked, sounding much better than when you had first called -- definitely a little more tired, but better.

“Yeah,” you replied with a soft chuckle. “You?”

“Yeah.”

The silence was comfortable as you just looked at his name on your screen over and over again. You wondered if this would be a normal thing for you now. You wondered if you would actually do that in person. Actually...

“Y’know,” you spoke up with a light tone to your voice, “I don’t think phone sex is for me.”

Mingi was silent for a beat before asking, “You wanna come over tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” you replied as if he asked if you wanted to go boarding on the beach.

“Cool,” he replied just as casually, but he was actually smiling like an idiot in his bed. “I should try to get some sleep then. I’ll text you tomorrow.”

“‘Kay. Night, dude.”

“Night.”

[arbitraryloveright]

The Study of You

[Summary; Luke is a war hero, but Leia won't let him throw the rest of his life away. Forcing him to get his graduate degree he meets the mysterious man that's been appearing to him in his dreams. He's stirring up Luke's connection to the force that broke when Anakin came back to the light. The twins do some investigating, and Luke may accidentally fall in love with the cute nerdy literature professor, while he starts unveiling lies from every side.] Ch 1-8/15 can be found on my ao3 account @/CharlieDoesIt

Chapter One: Professor Djarin

A voice soft and deep pulled him. "I will figure out a way to get us out of here." He spoke. He felt sand and cool droplets of water that tasted like salt. A hand was in his own, a glove covered the warm skin. "Go, love." He felt himself say. He felt the hand slip out of his grip in its wake all he felt was cold.

---

When Luke woke from the dream his heart was raced. He grabbed at his bed to ground himself. The window above his bed allowed for sunlight to cast in, its blue tint took over space.  He had dreamt of the man so often he'd begun to lose count. He half hoped it was because his connection to the force would come back, but he knew better than to get his hopes up.

He did a fairly good job to convince himself that he didn’t need it anymore. There wasn’t a need for force users when times were peaceful. The war was over for now, and Leia Organa wasn’t about to allow his life to go by. She forced him to finish school, and even then, the condition was he do it on Yavin. Luckily for him, it was one of the most beautiful planets he had ever seen.

All the greenery would have set the force on fire, hell without it Luke's body felt lifted. It wasn’t anything like Tatooine. Leia’s house was also only about a mile from the school. Luke was threatened into staying with her and Han, so he had no choice but to feel embarrassed about his lack of independence.

There was a knock on his door and then a shout to get up. “I don’t even have class today,” he groaned at her relentlessness. He threw off his comforter and walked towards the door.

“Yeah, you do,” she said her voice muffled by the door, “you have biogeochemistry today at two so we should get going at around 12.”

He swung the door open to see Leia’s smug smile. “How,” he threw his hands out. “How do you even know that?”

She shrugged, “I’m the dean,” and made her way towards the kitchen.

“That’s illegal you know,” he shouted as she turned a corner out from his line of sight.

He hit his head against the door frame, he might as well get ready for the day.

How was it barely Tuesday? His head leaned on the glass of her car window as he watched the forest pass by, he thought how much he wanted the week to be over already. He’d graduated with a Bachelor's degree why had that not been enough for his sister or even Han? Not to mention the fact that he was also a fully-fledged Jedi Knight.

Half a mile into their drive the car somewhere on the street in front of them backfired. The sound boomed in Luke's ears. It was like a flash had gone off in his mind. His heart raced, and his mind blanked out. He heaved. It felt like he was dying, and all he could see were lasers from Tie Fighters that missed him by a centimeter.

He felt a hand on his shoulder soft and present while everything else fell around him. It wasn’t enough. The world threatened to close in on him, and he was powerless against it.

When he came to, the car wasn’t moving. He was on the floor of the car, his knees pushed up against his chest, and his face was wet with tears. “Luke?” Leia whispered, scared to break him further. He sat up and forced himself to keep still, his body resisted and shook. He pulled his seat belt on and took deep breaths.

“This didn’t happen,” he whispered. It was mostly to himself until his sister opened her mouth to speak when he repeated the statement. He looked at her and used more force in his voice. She nodded resigned to do whatever her brother needed.

The after-effects of his little episode had caught up to him, once they’d reached that campus. He was drained. Somehow, he only had enough energy to make it into his sister's office and collapse onto her couch.

He woke up later than he meant to, the sun bright in his eyes. He twisted his wrist and looked at his watch. It was ten minutes to five, and his sister was nowhere to be found. He rubbed his eyes, and he didn’t realize that someone had walked in. “Hey Organa, did you…” his voice was deep and soft at the same time. Luke sat up and made eye contact with the man at the door. “You’re not Leia.”

Luke’s voice was still rough from when he slept, “Neither are you,” Luke said. His heart dropped down to his stomach when he fully took him in. His navy tie and black shirt perfectly matched the man he’d saw in his dreams. Right down to the mustache and boxy glasses. “Do you make a habit of barging into offices?”

“She usually lets me...” Before he could continue, he heard Leia's voice distantly as she apologized somewhere out in the hallway. As she walked into her room to turn in the light, she looked between the two men.

She tried to bury her worry in a typical motherly fashion. “I didn’t realize you were still in here.” Luke didn’t even need the force to see right through her facade.

“I accidentally slept in,” he sighed and smoothed over his shirt.

The intruder was still stood awkwardly off to the side. She set her bag down, as she motioned for the man to take a seat at one of the chairs in front of her desk. “Luke, this is Din Djarin head of the undergraduate Basics department.” He pushed his glasses up and put his bag beside him. He was kind of cute, but then again, he’d had months of intrusive dreams.

“Din, this is Luke Skywalker...my twin brother.” The man’s, Din’s eyes widened slightly, but he made no move to congratulate the war hero.

Before Luke could internally argue against it, his hands had pushed him off the couch. He asked if he could talk to Leia in the hallway. She closed the door tenderly behind them. “How are you?” She asked like she’d held it this whole time.

“Fine,” he said as he dodged the question, “I don’t want a strong reaction for what I’m about to say, because I still don’t exactly know what this means. So I just need you to stay calm.”

She nodded and straightened her posture as if she was bracing for a blow. “Have you ever shown me a picture of the man in your office, or do you think we’ve ever crossed paths?” She shook her head. “I’ve been seeing him in my dreams for the past couple of months.”

Her mouth twitched, it was the only sign of a reaction and besides that, she did very well to not react. “Does that mean that your connection is back?” He shook his head and she nodded again as she took it all in. “Okay, um, how about we do not get too disappointed or excited, we’ll keep monitoring it to see what happens.”

She looked up at him, a worried sparkle in her eyes gleamed. Luke knew what that meant and started to get nervous. He always knew his sister was capable of fearful acts. She shoved open the door. “Professor Djarin! Have you gotten a TA yet?” She smiled stiffly.

Din sat up, startled by the sudden intrusion. “Oh uh not yet.”

She clasped Luke’s shoulder. “Din’s TA dropped out and then disappeared to the outer rim, can you believe that?”

She sat in her chair and clapped her hands together. “Would you look at that I just found you the perfect candidate!”

[allsassnoclass]

i blame it on the weather (can you make it better)

Pairing: Michael Clifford/Calum Hood

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Key Tag(s): College AU, Cold, Angst with a Happy Ending

Word Count: 6,177

Read on AO3

A/N: this was tailor-made for @michaelownsmyheart​. I hope you like it darling <3 also big shout out to @clumsyclifford​ for looking this over and giving me Good Advice

—

Michael doesn’t remember the dorm being this cold when he left in December.  He doesn’t know how the space between him and Calum got that cold, either.

—

The drive back to campus feels shorter than normal, songs on the radio flying by with other cars on the highway the further Michael gets from his family and the closer he gets to the loneliness of an empty dorm.  Normally he wouldn’t mind having the place to himself, especially because that means he can blast music as loud as he wants and no one else is going to take the shower with the good water pressure, but there’s something foreboding about it now.

His phone is still empty of messages from the one person he’s been waiting to hear from.  Two weeks alone in the dorms wouldn’t be so bad if he had Calum on the other end of the line to keep him company.

He pulls into his parking spot right as snow begins to fall, a little earlier than predicted.  He sends a quick text to his parents to let them know he made it safe, then grabs his bags and makes the trek to his dorm.  It’s an older building elegantly nestled between the newer residence halls with better air conditioning or elevators that don’t break down every month, but there’s more character to it.  The other dorms are boxy and made of dark brick, but this one is lighter with turrets at the top and heavy wooden doors.  It looks more like a fantasy castle than a dorm building, and Michael’s mum had fallen in love with it immediately on their campus tour a few years ago.  Now that Michael is living here it’s lost some of its luster, but it’s also the only building to have single rooms, and while having Luke as a roommate turned out alright in the end last year, he likes being able to have the room to himself all of the time.

Michael fumbles for his key card to swipe himself in, biting off one of his gloves so he can get it out of his wallet.  Thick flakes land on his coat and hands, the kind that would probably be good for making snowmen if he still did stuff like that but that will be hell to drive in later.  Hopefully the roads will be clear enough by tomorrow, and he probably has some ramen that he never made from last semester that he can heat up for dinner tonight.

Inside doesn’t feel much warmer than outside, but there’s no snow or wind.  Michael stomps his feet in an attempt to get all of the snow off his boots, but freezes as soon as he glances up.

Nestled amongst the armchairs, big windows, fireplace, piano, and little side tables that make up the front lounge, Calum Hood stares back at him like a deer in headlights.  He’s got a notebook and pencil in his hand and a textbook open in front of him, blanket wrapped around his shoulders in a way that Michael wishes he were.  He looks exactly the same as he did when Michael last saw him a few weeks ago, except he’s fully clothed this time.  He looks good.  He looks cozy.

He looks like Michael is the last person he wants to see.

Michael clears his throat.

“I didn’t know you were back on campus,” he says.

“I’m taking a j-term and thought it’d be easier to focus here,” Calum replies, lifting the notebook halfheartedly.  “It’s a prereq for my chem class this semester.  It turns out that switching majors put me a bit behind this time.”

Michael nods.  Calum started as a music education major, then switched to an elementary education major before realizing he didn’t want to deal with little kids.  Now he’s studying to be a high school science teacher, which means he has a few freshman science classes he needs to squeeze into his schedule.  He hadn’t said anything about a j-term to Michael when he registered, but they also haven’t exactly been communicating much since before finals.

“I didn’t expect anyone back yet,” Calum says eventually.

“I got permission to come back early so I can take a few more shifts.  Gotta pay for college somehow, you know…”

Michael trails off, unbalanced and uncomfortable.  It feels wrong to be reacting like this around Calum, just like it felt wrong to not hear from him during finals or break, but after a few more moments of uncomfortable silence and chewing his lip he hefts his bag higher on his shoulder and makes an excuse about wanting to get his room back to rights.  He feels Calum’s eyes on him as he leaves, the weight of his gaze lingering even after Michael has entered the stairwell, dug out his key, and entered his room.  When he takes off his jacket he immediately reaches for a blanket, wrapping himself up and trying to suppress the shivers threatening to erupt throughout his body.

He doesn’t remember the dorm being this cold when he left in December.  He doesn’t know how the space between him and Calum got that cold, either.

-/-

Once he has a bowl of instant ramen in front of him and his stuff more or less put away, Michael calls Luke.

“Good morning,” Luke answers, a leftover joke gone stale from when they were roommates with opposite sleep schedules.  It almost makes him wish for a simpler time when Luke was forcing him to go places like Welcome Week events and they were literally running into people like Calum and Luke was forcing them all to be friends even though Michael’s smoothie got spilled and Calum dropped his nachos.  Michael would take being newly flustered over a hot guy who got a strawberry drink all over his favorite sweatshirt rather than having Calum not fucking talk to him.

“Did you know that Calum’s doing a j-term?”

Luke sighs on the other end of the line.

“I’m doing fine, Michael, thank you for asking.  How are you?”

“I’m bad.  Calum is here and no one warned me.”

“If it makes you feel better, I didn’t tell him that you would be back early, either.”

“That much was obvious.”  Michael stirs his noodles, suddenly feeling like he doesn’t have the right appetite for this.  “He looked like me showing up was the worst thing in the world.”

“Don’t exaggerate.”

“I’m not,” he says.  “You should’ve seen him.  He hates me now, and I still don’t know what I did wrong.”

“He doesn’t hate you,” Luke says.  “He misses you, too.”

“If he misses me so much, he should respond to my texts.”

Luke hums on the other end of the line.

“You’re both in the same place now.  Maybe you can corner him in person.”

“I wouldn’t have to do that if someone would just tell me what happened.”

“What happened is that you two slept together and then Calum ghosted you,” Luke sighs.  “If you want his reasoning, you have to ask him.  I will not be a messenger pigeon for you two.”

“I feel like that metaphor works best only if he’s been asking about me, too,” Michael says.  Luke doesn’t respond right away, a drawn out pause that makes Michael look up from his noodles.  He wishes they were video chatting so he could see what sort of expression Luke is wearing. “Luke, has he asked about me?”

“I’m not doing this with you right now,” Luke says.

“You fucker, he has talked about me!  Do you know why he ghosted me?”

“Stop using me as a go-between!  If you want to know why Calum hasn’t replied to your messages, ask him yourself.  You both need to get your heads out of your asses and communicate.  I can’t believe I’m the one who has to say that.”

Silence descends and Michael pulls his phone away from his ear to see that Luke hung up on him.  Michael huffs.  A second later his phone lights up with an incoming call, a very unattractive picture of Luke staring at him from his screen.  He considers letting it ring out and go to voicemail, but in the end he decides to take the high ground and answer.

“What,” he says flatly.

“Sorry I hung up on you,” Luke says.  “I don’t like being caught between you both.”

“Yeah,” he sighs.  “I don’t like it, either.”

“Will you try to talk to him?  He’ll let you if it’s in person.”

“I guess.”

Luke hums.  They stay on the phone a little longer, small talk filling the silence so Michael doesn’t have to be alone while he eats, but he knows he’s being a bad conversation partner, too distracted by what Calum may or may not have been saying about him to Luke.  When they finally hang up Michael flops back on his bed and groans, wondering if he should just move to Antarctica and change his name rather than put himself through this.

-/-

He manages to go the rest of the night without any indication that Calum is there.  They miss each other in the bathroom, but every sound in the hallway has the hair on his arms standing on end, wondering if it could be Calum or just the settling of the near-empty building.  He sleeps fitfully, tossing and turning on the sub-par dorm mattress, cuddling deeper into his blanket in an attempt to find some much-needed warmth.

The last night he spent with Calum, and the first night they’d spent together in that way, Michael fell asleep warm.  It was almost too hot, sticky under the covers and burning wherever their skin touched, but he loved it.  He’d take the heat over the cold any day, and he hasn’t felt warm since he woke up alone, bed feeling too big without the other boy in it to act as his personal space heater.

That morning the sheets had still smelled like him, but they were cold.  He’d left long before Michael woke up.  Michael’s first morning back feels like a mirror of that day.  Right before he fully wakes up he catches himself reaching for Calum and coming up empty.  When he realizes what he had been doing, he forces himself to get up rather than stay in bed and wallow only because he can’t afford to be late to work on his first day back and he doesn’t trust the roads to be cleared yet.  The college is situated on the outskirts of town, an odd placement that puts a woodsy area to one side and only a few smaller shops next to it.  Michael hadn’t managed to land a job in one of those places, but the family-owned restaurant he works at pays enough to be worth the gas it takes to get there.  He throws on a hoodie and slippers and shuffles to the bathroom to brush his teeth.

Calum is already at one of the sinks when he enters.  Michael doesn’t let his eyes stray from his face, refusing to take in the tan shoulders and torso or the drops of water glistening against him, leading down to the towel wrapped around his hips.  He has a toothbrush in his mouth, foam gathering at the corners of his lips, lips that Michael has--

No.  He can’t think about this now.

“Morning,” he says, clearing his throat to get it to work properly.

“Morning,” Calum replies around his toothbrush, consonants muffled.  He spits into the sink and Michael makes himself focus on his own morning routine, meticulously putting toothpaste on his own brush and hoping it’s not obvious that even glancing at Calum is dangerous for him right now.

Neither of them try to say anything more, and Michael wonders if the silence is hanging as heavily in the air for Calum as it is for him.  Before break, silences between them were the only types of silences Michael could stand.  He’s fidgety by nature and gets uncomfortable without background noise, but Calum always managed to temper that a bit.  Being around him settles something inside, something that right now makes Michael want to scream.

He’s about to try to break the silence when Calum picks up his bathroom caddy and leaves without so much as a glance his way.  Michael tries not to let it bother him, but he misses the weight of his gaze.  Calum used to look at him fondly, filled with enough affection that Michael could feel it in his heart.  He doesn’t understand why that would have to change now.

By the time Michael goes to start his car for work, Calum has set himself up in the lounge again, laptop open in front of him.  He’s turned on the fireplace, something that Michael thinks they're not technically supposed to do but that he’s certainly not going to call him on, and he doesn’t look up when Michael comes down the stairs.  Michael lingers by the doorway longer than he should.

They’ve spent a lot of time in this room, whether doing homework on the couch, trying to play duets on the piano in the corner, or hogging the chess set by the window, figuring out how to play and passing the time.

The chess board is set up for a fresh game.  In a naive fit of hope Michael walks over to it and moves one of the pawns forward.  Calum doesn’t glance up from his computer, but he’s still in a way that means he knows what Michael is doing.

On his way out he thinks he hears someone say drive safe, but the howling of the wind is already filling his ears and he can’t be sure.

-/-

Michael gets sent home early because of the snow.  He fights it all the way there, pulling in late because he had to move so slow, and halfway through his shift the manager calls it, deciding to close up for the day.  Right after he clocks out Michael gets a notification on his phone for a severe blizzard alert, and he steels himself to face it before leaving behind the warmth of the restaurant.  Outside the world is covered in a thick sheet of white, plows not able to keep up with the large flakes still falling from the sky, and Michael wills his car to survive the drive, windshield wipers going furiously in an attempt to keep him seeing as much as he can.  The drive takes three times longer than usual, and when he finally spots his dorm through the snow it comes with a sigh of relief.

Calum is still in the lounge when he comes inside and stomps his feet to get some feeling back into them.  With the snow came a biting wind, and even after barely being outside he feels frozen.

“I was getting worried,” Calum says, startling him.  “It looks like it’s bad out there.”

“It is,” Michael says, taking off his hat and shaking snow off of it.  He squints at Calum, in a different position and bundled in a blanket now, the big blue one that Mali got him as a grad present.  Michael once again has to push away the urge to cuddle up to him.

“It’s fucking cold,” he says instead, because it’s true and if he doesn’t make small talk he’s going to blurt something embarrassing like I’ve been thinking about you all the time or why did you leave me or I love you I love you I love you I’m sorry please can we be friends again?

“Going to be a cold night for us, then,” Calum says.  “The heating’s been shit this break.  I don’t think they keep it up as high when there’s only one student here.”

“I’ve had a few cold nights,” Michael snorts before he thinks about it.  “I mean--I’ll use some extra blankets.”

Calum nods once.  He opens his mouth like he’s about to say something, then snaps it shut again, looking down at his computer.  It feels like a dismissal, like Michael isn’t worth his time anymore, and it stings.

He should go upstairs, anyway.  He needs to find some blankets of his own.  He glances over the piano and the fireplace, eyes landing on the chess game by the window.

Someone has moved a pawn on the other side.  He glances at Calum, then moves a knight, continuing the game.  He wants to ask Calum to sit down and play a proper round with him, but one glance at Calum’s posture has him biting his tongue.  He’s closed off, blanket wrapped around him securely and face tense, and Michael can’t bring himself to bother him, not when interacting with Michael seems to be the last thing he wants to do.

Michael looks back at the chess set, three pieces out of place, and heads to his room.

-/-

The night comes simultaneously fast and slow in the way that all boring winter nights do.  Michael sits in his room scrolling through social media while the sun sets around him, and when he does eventually get up it’s only so he can make more ramen to eat.  He had lunch at the restaurant and never did get to the grocery store, but he has a few snacks to munch on and if things get really bad he can always see if Calum has anything he’s willing to share.

Calum initiated conversation earlier, so things can’t be too bad between them, right?  It’s still terribly stiff and uncomfortable, but at least he’s not getting the silent treatment anymore.  At least Calum looked at him for a little bit.

He plays video games until he’s too bored to continue, then showers and crawls into bed.  It’s still cold, just like Calum said it would be, but they haven’t lost power yet.  Michael piles on the blankets and pillows, but his sheets are frigid, not yet warmed by his body heat and making him shiver.  After a few minutes of tossing and turning he considers boiling water just to have a warm mug to hold in his hands.

Maybe it’ll be better in the lounge with the fireplace on.  No one’s here to get mad at him for falling asleep on the couch, but then he’d have to haul all of his blankets down there, something that he doesn’t think he has the energy for right now.

He wishes Calum were here.  It feels like all he’s done since getting back to campus is think about Calum, his presence in the building affecting him more than it would have if he was fully alone, but in a pragmatic sense he also really wants a warm body next to him right now.  Two people under the covers are warmer than one, and he’s already put on socks and a hoodie.  Wrapping himself in Calum would keep him warm on a physical level, and maybe it’ll settle him enough that he’ll actually be able to sleep without having weird dreams or waking up every few hours.

He hasn’t even gotten close enough to touch him since getting here.  Before break, he and Calum were always handsy with each other, personal space a myth with the two of them.  It feels wrong to have seen him and not immediately gone in for a hug.

He flops onto his stomach, trying to get comfortable without disturbing the blankets too much, but sleep isn’t coming easy.  When a knock comes on his door, he’s immediately awake and alert.  He wonders if it was a piece of a dream instead, given that there’s only one other person in the building and late night visits did not seem to be an option on the table, but after a few moments someone knocks again.

The light of the hallway is bright after the dark of his room, making him squint at the silhouette of Calum standing before him, wrapped in a blanket like he always seems to be right now.  His hair is messy, no doubt from his own fitful attempt to sleep, and Michael wants to run his fingers through it and put it back to rights.

“Hi,” Michael says.

“I called maintenance about the heat,” Calum says.  “They said they’re having a bit of issue with it and will send someone out, but with the road conditions it could be a little while.  I think they forgot that there were people here.”

“Oh,” Michael says.  “Okay.”

He stares at Calum again, cataloguing how tightly he’s wrapped up and the way he’s chewing on his lips.  Michael waits for him to say what he really came here to.

“It’s really fucking cold, Michael,” Calum blurts finally, a little desperate.

“I know,” Michael says, not sure how to tell Calum that he’d set the world on fire for him if it would help.

“It’d be warmer if we were together.  Like, scientifically speaking.  If we cuddled, it would warm us up a bit.”

“Well, you are the scientist in this duo.  You would know.”  Calum finally meets his eyes, looking up through his eyelashes a little in a way that’s completely unfair.  He’s already got Michael wrapped around his finger, heart skipping a beat at the simple occasion of having his attention again.

He has it so bad that it’s pathetic.

“Is that all?” Michael asks, trying to scrape together some of his dignity.  Calum has been ghosting him for weeks, and a conversation about the bad heating isn’t exactly what Michael wanted from a real conversation with him.  He’s too tired for small talk and much too cold to be standing here when he could be under the covers.

“You’re shivering,” Calum says.  Michael hadn’t noticed the small tremors, but now that Calum pointed them out he can’t ignore them.

“Come on, Mikey,” Calum says, stepping closer.  Michael wants to lean into him and the warmth he promises.  “I promise it’ll be warmer if we cuddle.”

“Do you want to come in?” he asks.  Calum nods, so he steps aside.

Having Calum in his room again when the last time included one of the best and most overwhelming experiences of Michael’s life is weird, to say the least.  It’s like Michael can see two versions of him: the current Calum, wrapped in a blanket and closed off in every conceivable way, and the Calum from that night, laughing at all of Michael’s jokes and spouting off facts about gravity to explain how they kept getting closer and closer.

“See, everything with mass exerts gravity on everything else, except typically it’s not enough to be noticeable compared to the gravity of the Earth.  Your gravitational field must be really strong today.”

“Are you calling me fat?”

“No, Michael, you idiot.  Stop misinterpreting what I’m saying!”

Calum surveys the room, the safety light reflecting off the snow outside just enough to give him silhouettes to work with.  Michael wonders what he’s remembering.

“How do you want to do this?” Michael asks when the silence has stretched on for too long.  Calum shrugs, so Michael climbs up onto his bed, sliding under the covers and leaving a corner flipped up in invitation.  Calum hesitates, and for a moment Michael thinks he’s going to turn tail and run, but he throws his blanket on top of the covers and joins.  The bed is too small to avoid some awkward elbows and involuntary brushes of clothing, barely big enough for one person, let alone two.  Michael holds his breath while Calum gets somewhat settled, pressed against the wall to give him as much room as possible.

“It’ll be warmer if we’re touching,” Calum whispers, words hitting Michael like a shout with the close proximity and otherwise silence of the room.  If the lights were on, Michael would probably be able to count his eyelashes, but now his face is a combination of different shadows.

“How do you…” Michael trails off.  Calum reaches out first, a cold hand wrapping around his own and pulling him closer.  They end up with Calum on his back and Michael’s head on his shoulder, legs tangled together.  Michael’s sure that Calum can hear how loud his heart is beating, but he can feel Calum’s own beating in a similar pattern so he can’t be too upset about it.  He can hear every inhale and rustle of clothing, can feel the soft cotton of Calum’s shirt against his cheek and smell the faint remains of his soap.

He’s warm.  It’s not the burning heat from their last night together, but it’s almost worse with the gradual way that Michael can feel himself unthaw in his presence, slow enough that he could forget it’s happening only to wake up as an irreparable puddle.

“Okay?” Michael asks, sending flashbacks to the last few times he had asked that question and Calum’s answers: always positive, whether a verbal yes or a nod or a fierce kiss and wandering hands.

“Yeah,” Calum says.  Michael swallows.

Calum starts tracing a design on his back with his finger, barely-felt with Michael still bundled up.  Michael wills himself to stay in the moment rather than slipping into the past or wishing for a different future.

It’s not bad like this.  He gets Calum close at least, receiving that little piece of contact from him that he’s been craving.  If this is the last time they’re like this, he wants to enjoy it if he can.

He shifts, Calum freezing under him for a moment until they both exhale and relax a little more.

Michael closes his eyes and wills himself to sleep.

“Michael?” Calum whispers after a few minutes.  For a moment he considers not answering, sure that anything Calum might think to say in the dark of the night will be something he doesn’t want to hear, but all he’s been asking for the past few weeks is his attention, and it seems vindictive to reject it now.

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry.”

Michael should ask for clarification on what, exactly, Calum is apologizing about.  He’s opened the door to this conversation, and Michael should take the opportunity to finally walk through and get their wires straightened out, but he can’t bring himself to do any of that, not like this.  Not when Michael is breathing him in and stealing his warmth and there’s absolutely nothing between them to act as a buffer.

In the dark cuddled up together, Michael can keep pretending that Calum isn’t about to crush him.  As long as he doesn’t ask for clarification, it’s like Schrodinger’s heartbreak: Michael can be both loved and lonely at the same time.

“Can we talk about it tomorrow?” he asks.  “We need to talk about it, but I’m tired.  And cold.  Not tonight.”

“Okay,” Calum says.  Michael waits to see if there’s anything else, but Calum just resumes tracing his secret design on Michael’s back.

Michael closes his eyes and hopes they don’t freeze to death in the night, twin skeletons found tangled together by some unsuspecting third party when the thaw comes.  He’s not sure when he falls asleep and begins to dream, but in his mind Calum presses a kiss to his hair and Michael tries not to let such a simple action break him.

-/-

When he wakes up the bed is cold and empty again.  It shouldn’t be surprising, certainly not after last time.  There was less expectation to stay here, but everything is ugly in the cold light, shattering the fragile balance of the night before.  Michael feels a pit in his stomach, but also a hot flare of anger.

Calum is the one who came begging for his company yesterday after completely ignoring him for weeks.  Calum is the one who left without a trace after Michael showed him he loves him the best way he knows how.  Calum is the one who keeps running away from this, but Michael is the one who keeps getting hurt and that’s not fair.

It’s a little warmer in the building now, the heaters likely getting sorted while they were sleeping, but Michael still grabs a blanket.  No one answers Calum’s door and the bathroom seems to be empty.  He heads downstairs to see if he has set himself up in the lounge again and knows he’s on the right track when he starts to hear piano music drifting softly towards him the more he descends the stairs.

Calum is one of the only people who ever uses the grand piano in the lounge.  It’s slightly out of tune, just enough for Michael himself to notice but for Calum to complain about a lot.  Michael has spent a lot of later nights in the lounge listening to him play, whether he was practicing back when he used to be a music major and take lessons or just playing for fun.  Calum curses a lot when he practices, but Michael has also caught him with his eyes closed and a content smile on his face, letting the music take him away.  Watching him like that, Michael sometimes wonders why Calum switched from music to science, but the rarity of the moments makes them all the more special.

He’s playing a piece that he’s been working on for a while.  Michael tries not to disturb him, walking slowly towards the chess set where another piece has been moved in a continuation of the game.  Calum must have pulled the curtains by the windows up, deep drifts of snow piled against them and sunlight reflecting off the white to set the entire room aglow.  In this setting and with this soundtrack, the morning feels less frosty.

The last note hangs suspended in the air and Michael holds his breath until it dissipates.  Calum sighs, breaking his posture to slump down, and turns to face Michael.

“You’ve gotten better at that one,” Michael says.

“Easier to practice when I don’t have to go to the music hall and no one’s here to use the piano.”

Michael studies him, taking in his rumpled appearance.  He doesn’t look like he’s been up that long, still in the same pants he went to bed in and already folding the sleeves of his hoodie over his hands to keep them warm.

The sweatshirt he’s wearing is one of Michael’s.  His heart flip-flops.

“Did you want to talk now?” Calum asks.

“Yeah,” Michael sighs.  Calum nods once.  He scoots over on the piano bench, making room, and Michael gingerly sits next to him.  After a moment’s hesitation, he offers part of his blanket, nearly sighing in relief when Calum accepts it.

“I’m sorry for how I left, and for not replying to any of your messages,” Calum begins.  “That was a jerk move.”

“It was,” Michael says.  “You’re my best friend, Calum.  If I had known that’s how you’d react, I wouldn’t have--”  He stops, because he doesn’t want to say he regrets sleeping with Calum unless he has to.  It would be a lie.  He’d rather have Calum as a friend than nothing, but the will-we-won’t-we would’ve killed him eventually, and the night itself was amazing right up until Calum left.

“I don’t want to jeopardize that,” he says instead.  “You mean a lot to me.”

Calum presses his lips together.

“Why did you leave?” Michael asks.  “I thought we were on the same page.  I mean… you wanted it, right?  You said you did.  I thought you did.  I didn’t--”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Calum interrupts.  “I did want it.  I really wanted it.  Too much, probably.”

“What does that mean?”

Calum sighs, looking down at his lap and fidgeting with his sleeves again.  Michael wants to know why he’s so nervous.  He wants to grab his hands and hold him steady the way that Calum does for him when he’s freaking out, but that wouldn’t be welcome right now.

“Michael, I can’t do something casual with you.  You’ve said before that you’re not looking for anything serious, but I can’t be friends with benefits, not with you.  Not when I’m in love with you.  It’d tear me apart.”

“What made you think I wanted something casual?” Michael asks.  “Apparently you couldn’t tell, but that night was kind of a big deal for me.  I’m not exactly known for sleeping around.”

“Michael--”

“I’ve been crushing on you since we met, okay?” Michael says, turning to face him more fully.  “I wasn’t looking for something serious with anyone else because I’ve been hung up on you.  That night was one of the best nights of my life, and then you weren’t there in the morning.  I thought I had fucked up.  I thought I had ruined one of the most important relationships in my life.”

“You didn’t,” Calum says, grabbing his hand.  “I should have talked to you instead of running away.  That’s on me.”

“Yeah it is,” Michael sulks.  “Why didn’t you?  Why’d you just assume what I wanted instead of bothering to ask me?  That hurt, Cal.”

“I know.”  Calum grimaces, then shrugs.  “I don’t know.  I thought I knew what you wanted.  Or didn’t want, I guess.  I didn’t consider that you could like me until you kissed me, and you’ve never shown interest in an actual relationship.  I wasn’t ready for you to reject me.”

“But I wasn’t going to,” Michael says.  “You’re you.  You’re the exception.”

“I didn’t know that, though.  We didn’t exactly sit down for a conversation.  Our mouths were otherwise occupied that night, if I remember correctly.”  Michael opens his mouth to protest, then snaps it shut.

He doesn’t remember exactly what he said in the heat of it, but he remembers biting back I love you, knowing it was too early to be throwing that phrase around, no matter how true it was.  Maybe he ended up hiding the sentiment a bit more than he anticipated.

“You still should’ve talked to me,” he says.

“I know,” Calum replies, squeezing his hand.  “I’m sorry.  I’ll do better with that.”

Michael squeezes his hand back.

“So,” he says, “you like me?”

“Yeah,” Calum says.  “A lot.”

“You got that I like you, too, right?  I said that.  I’ve had it bad for you since we met.”  Calum frowns.

“You took a while to warm up to me.  I thought you were still holding a grudge because I spilled your smoothie.”

“No, you had me tongue-tied,” Michael says.  “I had to figure out how to function around you.  You’re really hot and it made me flustered.”

“Shut up,” Calum says.  He’s blushing, crimson staining his cheeks enough for Michael to see, sending a strong thrill of satisfaction through him.

“I’m serious,” he needles.  “You’re ridiculously attractive, dude.  You’re not going to hear the end of it from me now.  I’ve said it once and now there’s nothing to stop me from saying it five times a day.”

Calum laughs and tucks his face into Michael’s shoulder.  Michael feels his own happiness bubble up inside him, threatening to burst.  He brings Calum’s hand up to his lips and kisses the back of it in an attempt to release some of the pressure.

“Are we boyfriends now?” Calum asks.

“Fuck yeah,” Michael says.  “Unless you don’t want to be, but that’d be lame.”

“I want to be,” Calum says quickly.

“Good,” Michael says.  “Then we are.”

“Good.”

They sit for a while, and this silence feels comfortable again, like their old ones.  Michal could stay suspended in this moment like the final note of Calum’s piano song and feel content with it rather than uncomfortable.  That more than anything lets him know they’ll be okay.

“I’m cold,” Calum says eventually.

“We should move by the fire.”

“We should eat breakfast,” Calum counters.  Michael hums and gives Calum’s neck an exaggerated sniff, making him squirm and giggle again.

“You should shower,” he says.

“Fuck you.  That’s rude.”

“I could join you?” Michael offers.

“These showers are not big enough for two people,” Calum says.  “Nice try, though.”

He stands and kisses Michael on the forehead, tucking the blanket back around him.

“Can I kiss you properly?” Michael asks.  Calum nods and leans down again, the gentle press of his lips both familiar and thrilling, sweeter in the morning light.

“Breakfast, then I’m going to shower alone, then I think we have a chess game to finish.”

“Or we could make out all day while we have the lounge to ourselves.”  Calum considers him, tilting his head and giving a wry smile.

“We can do that if you win the chess match.”

“Deal,” Michael says.  It’s an easy bargain, because Michael is better at chess than Calum is, and with that prize on the line nothing’s going to distract him.

“Breakfast,” Calum repeats, tugging on his hands until he’s standing, too.  Michael leans forward and kisses him again, just because he can now.  Calum beams and leads him to the stairs, Michael tripping over his blanket and Calum’s laugh filling the room.

It could just be the heating kicking in more, but Michael isn’t sure he needs the blanket right now, not when Calum is here warming him from the inside out.

[bottleofspilledink]

God’s Watching, Put on a Show || Chapter XII

Eve arrived at school at exactly seven in the morning, a whole hour before class was supposed to start. She had gotten there in record time too, legs sore with how eager she was to leave the house.

You see, Eve had miscalculated her father’s arrival.

Severely.

Rather than arriving as she had slept, he walked through the door just in time for breakfast. Shirt crumpled, hair ruffled, a sated look in his brown eyes. He wasn’t even trying to hide it anymore. They were too tired for that. Yes, long gone was the happy couple trying to make it all work. In their place, the shell of who they once were, wilting husks with only overwhelming sadness and a want for temporary pleasure filling it.

Breakfast was somehow worse than dinner. Far from suffocating, she felt as if she were choking despite how well she chewed her serving of eggs. The dining room, already nowhere near welcoming before, seemed to taint everything in it, the sour mood permeating it seeping into her orange juice, making it taste as if it had gone bad weeks ago. (It hadn’t, though. She even helped her mother load groceries into the refrigerator. The juice had been there for no more than two days.)

Eve sat on that on a wooden courtyard bench, the very same one she sat on just eleven days ago, legs sore from how fast she pedaled, aching almost as much as she ached to get out of that horrid hou-

“Shut up.” Her mind echoed. It was painful, how hard she hard to try to stop herself from saying things she shouldn’t, from doing things she shouldn’t. “You should be grateful you even have a family. You know how people here feel about broken homes and single moms…”

“Eve!” Elizabeth came up from behind her, slender arms wrapping around her in a hug. She was in a good mood, giggling behind her manicured hands, cheeks tinted the signature pink of love – or simply infatuation. It was hard to tell, really, if your friend truly loved a man when you yourself were incapable of such things, try as she might, no matter how hard she forced herself to.

Nothing came of it. Nothing would ever come of it.

“So, I’m assuming you had a fun night?”

Just because Eve didn’t understand what was so thrilling about kissing boys and all that came after it, didn’t mean she wouldn’t listen to Elizabeth’s excited ramblings of it. She knew what was expected of her. One day, hopefully not one day soon, she would find a boy she could tolerate, a decent one she would at least come to love as a friend; she would marry him and lie with him, as a good wife does and bear his children.

And she would tolerate it.

Just because she was like Lilith, didn’t mean she had to act like her, didn’t mean she had to act on what she felt for her.

“Not just a night!” Elizabeth’s dark eyes twinkled, gesturing wildly and almost obscenely with her hands. “I was with him every night during the weekend and Monday night. I got Mary to vouch for me so we could go out.”

“Out?”

The brunette nodded, clearly deliberate in stating that they went out in order to say: “He just got his driver’s license so we went out on his motorcycle to celebrate!”

“Motorcycle?” Eve perked up, pleasantly surprised her friend wasn’t here to brag about her sex life and the fact that Zachariah could drive. (Really, the last thing she needed was a detailed description of a blowjob, especially considering that her breakfast wasn’t sitting right with her, though that may just be her lingering dread speaking.)

“Yup! Since he’ll be on a scholarship for college next year, he convinced his parents to let him use the money they set aside for it to buy a bike.”

She went on about the boy and the places he’d taken her, a genuine joy in her every motion, in her every word, excitement clear to all who would lay eyes on her.

Oh, Eve could feel her happiness, potent, so close yet completely unattainable to the likes of her. That wasn’t a new realization, not by any means, no, but God, it was different this time; a bitter bile rising in her, leaving the taste of acid and envy and a sorrow not unlike that of resignment, of loss.

But between Elizabeth’s giggles and how nice the boy seemed to be, the taste would soon fade into a sweet sugar cookie sort of fondness.

Only a hint of that resignment remained, a tangy, rotten after taste.

...

Unlike the first day of their newly implemented schedule, today was not so tense.

Rather, the two girls sat next to each other, not even a ruler’s length apart, not tense but tenuous both of them lost in a labyrinth of thoughts and drowning in a sea of emotions either too scary to name or too muddled to be sure of, everything mixing and melding and melting like a soup with a certain ingredient you couldn’t quite place.

The memory of yesterday was burned into their minds, playing again and again on an endless loop for reasons they dare not say, the same words spoken and heard from slightly different perspectives with slightly different thoughts accompanying it.

For Lilith, yesterday was a sign of hope for Eve. She was willing to disobey, allowing herself the occasional indulgence with a bit of coaxing. All Eve needed was a nudge, a gentle push in the right direction. The redhead could imagine it quite vividly, the girl standing before her mother, letting lies slip from her lips, pretending to have been forced into a place of opposition she so evidently wanted to be in. Eve hadn’t even tried to hide the fact that her mother was the only thing keeping her from the club, either too tired to make up an excuse or just feeling comfortable enough to open up about it to her.

For Eve, yesterday was the end of playing dumb, the end of turning a blind eye to her own desires and the undeniable humanity of people… like Lilith. She could hardly believe all that had happened despite it being so clear in her head. Between what see had seen in the locker room and what had happened over lunch and the things she’d willingly done during club time… it was all too much.

Yesterday was the end of life as she knew it. Or rather, it was the beginning of the end.

After all, progress took time and it was by no means linear. Especially not during matters of this nature.

“So what did your mom say?” Lilith said. She was trying to separate what she felt for that woman from her voice, and she was doing well, disdain for her considered. Really, fussing over every little detail of her daughter was one thing but the fact that the concern she displayed was not for said daughter but for her future husband was something she couldn’t forgive. Still, she kept her language plain and her tone neutral. Most people didn’t take kindly to other’s insulting their mothers.

“Oh, I haven’t told her.” The way Eve’s voice trembled when she said that “oh” sent arrows through her heart, the dread palpable and utterly unnerving. “She hasn’t asked yet and I didn’t have a good time to bring it up so I’ll just wait for her to say something. Maybe she’s assuming I joined the book club again?”

A lie by omission was better than an outright one but it was a lie nonetheless and the guilt of it didn’t do much to ease the girl’s tension, though the fact that she would be able to avoid that conversation for a while longer did.

“Speaking of books,” Lilith coughed, deciding to change the topic before Eve withdrew into her mind “what did you guys do in that club? Just read all day and discuss books? Is there even anything good in that library?”

“Well, most of it is theology and reference books, yeah, but those can be good! There are a few volumes of Sherlock Holmes near the history section! It’s not a complete collection at all but definitely better than nothing.”

She could already feel the dopey grin making it’s way onto her face. In the short amount of time they’ve known each other, Lilith would be hard pressed to find a time Eve had been this happy about anything. Unbridled joy was a good look on everyone. The gleam in their eyes that only came from a genuine liking for something, the way they’d gesticulate, unable to contain all their passion.

Granted, Eve didn’t gesture so much as flap her hands about, but while joy looked good on everyone, it also looked different in everyone and Lilith found this eccentricity of hers adorable to no small degree.

“They have Phantom of the Opera tucked away somewhere near this compilation of Edgar Allan Poe I’ve been able to read a few times. A bit macabre but still good! Oh, you know they have books on gardening, too! I can show you next time we go and you can check out one or two if you want! The ones on herbs was fun but I think you’ll find the one on flower language an interesting read. It’s not exactly about gardening, but still. Did you know that the way you tied a bouquet could completely change the meaning of all the flowers you were trying to send?”

She spoke in a mix of short, rapid-fire sentences and long-winded rants, switching with no real pattern, rambling and occasionally straying to go on a tangent about a specific book or mention something about gardening, none of which Lilith understood, being unable to name any flowers by appearance other than rose, daisy, and sunflower, though she listened eagerly nonetheless.

“But back to books! Near the back, just by the cookbook – oh, and um, don’t tell anyone but –” Eve scooted her wooden chair across the wooden floor, mindlessly brushing Lilith’s hair back, placing her lip just two centimeters scant of her ear. “There are books hidden there, by older girls, I think. Ones that graduated a really long time ago.”

Eve’s ivory-like hands cupped the small space around Lilith’s ear, shielding their words from any listening ears, anything that happened behind her hands hidden from prying eyes. In the midst of her whispering, she realized she could kiss Lilith; a gentle peck on the shell of her ear. No one needed to know. Just a quick press of the lips, it wouldn’t take longer than a second… or two.

And though she ignored the impulse, the thought lingered.

“Love poems and romance novels. I’m pretty sure they wrote it all themselves. Two of them are just a bunch of papers with holes punched in the side tied together by string, no cover. Technically more manuscript than book but you know what I mean. The others are leather bound journals, hand-written.”

“No kidding?” The other asked, hushed, nothing anyone further than Eve would catch. She didn’t dare say it louder, both unwilling to let anyone eavesdrop on them and scared that the excessive movement of her jaw would lead Eve farther from her.

“Nope, they’re there.” She pulled away from the girl’s ear but didn’t bother to move her seat back to where it was, their legs pressed together beneath the table they shared. “I haven’t been able to read much of any of them cause I’m scared I’ll get too absorbed to notice anyone walking past but their poems are really good! I can show you sometime, along with the gardening books.”

“We can go there later, during lunch. I’ll keep watch for while you read.”

The offer turned the girl’s waning grin into a megawatt smile, dimpled and rosy cheeked, she looked like a Raphaelite painting, a masterpiece.

“Really?”

“Sure! I’m always up for a bit of casual disobedience.” She replied with a wink and a deep chuckle, using amusement as a cover for endearment.

“Holy cow, thank you so much! But I’m pretty sure we’re not actually breaking any rules, I–”

Smack!

“Everyone bring out your composition notebook! We’re going to use the rest of homeroom to learn how to read sheet music before proceeding to the music room so if you want to fool around on the piano you’d best master this quickly.”

With that, Eve jerked away from Lilith, bringing her chair along with her and causing a loud, grating noise to make it’s way through the now silent room, every head whipping around to face them, the eyes now bearing into them, mostly shocked, some irritated, with one judgmental look from the front, from Sister Bernadette.

“No movement of chairs unless otherwise stated!”

“But-”

“Put the seat back where it was immediately or get detention!”

Lilith then pulled the girl down into her seat, cutting off another protest and brought the seat back to where it was before the nun entered, effectively ridding all the space between them.

Only when the woman turned to face the blackboard did she whisper to Eve: “Don’t argue, even if they’re wrong. They’ll just call it disrespectful and send you to the principal’s.”

“Oh… I’m sorry, I’m just not used to getting yelled at here so I wasn’t sure about– I didn’t know what to do. Sorry, again…”

“Don’t beat yourself up about it.” She gave the blonde a teasing jab along with a soft smile, looking at the girl only from the corner of her sky blue eye so as not to invoke the further ire of the clearly on-edge teacher. “’Sides, the jokes on them. They’re still wrong and we get to stay like this. That’s a win-win if I’ve ever seen one, yeah?”

Eve huffed, a small laugh, in part a sort of thanks for the given consolation, in part a sort of reassurance to the other that she’d be okay, that she’d bounce back.

“Yeah.”

In the end, they weren’t able to go to the music room.

...

The hours passed, only a few words passing between the girls every so often, most of it questions related to the work they were assigned. They were careful, Eve unwilling to anger any other authority figures, Lilith trying to fly under the radar, admittedly rather afraid of being called into Mother Cecilia’s office over even trivial matters, knowing it would lead to yet another interrogation regarding the fire.

But finally, the lunch bell rang, granting them freedom and the ability to be enthusiastic without repercussion. (As long as they weren’t too noisy, of course.) All the anticipation and excitement led to Eve shooting out of her chair and practically sprinting to the library, books shoved haphazardly into her book bag as Lilith followed not too far behind her, pleasantly surprised at her actions, though with more emphasis on the pleasant and not so much on the surprised.

“It’s right this way,” The blonde said, not bothering to drop her bag down in her usual seat as they ventured deeper into the library.

Eventually, they reached the deepest, mustiest park of the library, all the shelves covered in a thin sheen of dust save for a single row level with their knees. The sun streaming in from the arching windows only served to accentuate how unkempt the place was, illuminating the dust particles that flew into the air when Eve took to her knees to retrieve the books she spoke so eagerly about.

“The last time I’ve been able to peek at them was a few weeks before summer, so sorry for the dust. You’re not asthmatic, right?” She pulled out a few of the recipe books, setting them aside before reaching in deeper to grab a stack of papers, bound with string, it’s outer most page containing nothing more than a title and a name. Sticking her arm in a bit more, she pulled out two leather journals, putting them down atop the manuscript before taking a few more cookbooks from the shelf and grabbing the last journal along with manuscript type book.

“Nah, I’ll be fine.”

Lilith crouched down next to her, looking at the stack Eve made. The paper ones were practically identical save for a difference in thickness while the leather-bound books varied in colour, one the usual coffee brown, the other a matte black, and the last one a fine, wine-red.

“So, how’d you find all this anyway?” The redhead asked, taking the brown book from the stack, flicking through a random page and instantly regretting it as a cloud of dust came from it, resulting in a rather violent coughing fit, Eve rushing to her and patting her back as her lungs tried to expel themselves through her mouth.

“Are you sure you’re not asthmatic?”

“Eve, I’m not sure how to break it to you, but anyone that gets hit with a face-full of dust is gonna cough a bit. I’ll live.”

“Good point.” She reached over to her bag and took a tumbler from it. “Water?”

Lilith’s fingers brushed against Eve’s as the dark green bottle switched hands, reminiscent of the brief touch they shared the first time they met, on that fateful, windy day in the courtyard.

“Thanks.”

There were a handful of things she expected to happen today, things she prepared an appropriate response for. Watching Lilith gulp down water like a dying man, seeing her throat work with every sip, eyes following the stray drops that rolled down her chin and her neck, making it’s way to the opening of her shirt before finally stopping, absorbed by the fabric that now clung to parts of her chest, was evidently not one of those things.

“T-thanks to you, too… Lilith.”

The girl in question merely raised an eyebrow and snorted.

“If you wanted to start with this book, you could’ve just said so.”

Lilith passed the book she was holding to her, instead grabbing the red one and holding it out an arm’s length away and flapping it about, effectively getting most of the dust out.

They settled into a comfortable silence after that, content to exist in the same space, unburdened by the unspoken as they read. Sock-clad legs parallel to each other, pressed flush against the flesh, they looked so similar to how they did yesterday, this morning.

Lighter, though. Somehow.

Perhaps it was the lack of looming dread, the weight of anxiety gone from Eve’s mind, for now at least. Perhaps it was the lack of fear, Lilith’s worry for Eve gone, again, if only for now.

...

As Eve went on, she became enamored by the prose, the delicate descriptions crafted from simple every day life and feelings, invested by the admittedly somewhat familiar protagonist, Nina, and her best friend, Rosalie, or as Nina would so fondly call her, Rosie.

Bit by bit, though, things were changing between them. Or maybe they haven’t changed at all and she was just blind to it. Either way though, things became different, odd, queer.

“I carded my hands through her soft, black hair just like I had so many times before. “Will you braid it for me?” She asked, lifting her head from off my lap, resting on her elbows. Not quite lying down, not quite sitting up.”

She couldn’t help but think that the first sentence implied something.

“Rosalie would get her blazer dirty, stomach pressed into the grass as she traced patterns on my lap, the fabric of my skirt shifting, spiraling. “Of course,” I couldn’t say no if I wanted to, but why would I even consider refusing her?”

The way Nina spoke about Rosalie, the way Rosalie spoke to her in turn, the affection they showed to each other, the way she would describe Rosalie in text was akin to that of love… romantic love.

Eve brushed the thoughts aside though, knowing she was probably just projecting her own perversions on the perfectly normal, heterosexual girls.

“We sat there and spoke of the future, a house deep in the woods, an aged, fat cat. Preferably a tabby. I plucked flowers, giving them a new home with her as I wove it into the braid. Call me sacrilegious but she looked like a God, of-the-earth, of me. She was my God. I’d get in trouble if I ever said that out loud. But then again, I’d get in trouble for practically everything I did with Rosie”

Alright, maybe it wasn’t just Eve.

“After finishing the braid, I took a compact mirror from my pocket. “What do you think?” She giggled, deep, brown eyes looking around at the empty field before shimmying over to me, laying a gentle kiss on my cheek. “It’s lovely. You’re lovely.” She moved once more, settling on my lap, lips trailing across my forehead, my eye, my nose, my cheek. Tease. At long last, though, her lips met mine, pressing against me with a soft passion-”

She dropped the book, hands by her head as a sort of surrender to whatever god may be watching her, judging her, face flushed, chest heaving.

Lilith looked up from her book. “You okay?”

She read that. She enjoyed that.

That knowledge was the straw that broke the camel’s still recovering back.

The guilt from yesterday and everyday before that built up in her lungs, drowning her, hastening her hellish damnation. Her thoughts were consumed by apologies and prayers and pleas for a mercy she wasn’t deserving of.

Tears fell from her face like angels from the sky, a testament to her sins, her guilt.

Guilt. Guilt. Guilt. Suffocating, stifling, sinful guilt.

Crashing down on her as if she was being smitten, painful and shameful and rightful guilt.

She sobbed and shook, hands over her mouth to stop herself from wailing her anguish, her agony, her guilt.

But a pair hands weren’t enough to contain everything in her and all that spilled out. Nothing was.

Whimpers escaped through the gaps of her fingers, Lilith forgetting her shock and rushing over to comfort her.

It only made her cry harder. Lilith’s touch burned.

Eve clung to her though, rising to her knees, hands clutching at Lilith’s shirt.

It was yesterday all over again.

It was worse.

She couldn’t deny what she was anymore. Every passing second made it harder to craft lies and alibis and that would be a sin too and she’d go to hell regardless.

Burying her face in the crook of Lilith’s neck in a futile attempt to silence herself, Eve could smell the sweet, apple cinnamon perfume the girl had sprayed on earlier.

The way the scent made her face flush, even with everything going on and everything she was feeling was sick.

It twisted her stomach.

She felt disgusting, sinful, wrong, guilty.

But as she sobbed and shuddered and breathed the scent in…

It twisted her stomach.

Guilt. Guilt. Guilt.

...

“It’s okay. You’re gonna be okay, Eve.” She whispered, soft, the words meant for one person and one person only.

Lilith wasn’t a naturally soothing person. Never in her life did she have to console someone in such a way, her friends all preferring to be distracted from their sorrows by quips and jokes. This was different, though. Eve was different.

Eve made her soft and kind to a degree she could hardly fathom. Gone was her icy exterior and harsh features, traded in for a comforting smile and gentle hands.

The girl sobbed and prayed into her shoulder, unable to hear her over muttered prayers and the sound of her own heartbeat, a frantic thump in her heaving chest.

From an outsider’s point of view, it would look like Eve was the one doing the comforting, seeming to pray over Lilith in a manner akin to that to someone being exorcised, a two-person prayer circle.

“Eve,” She whispered, gently trying to pry the girl away from her so she could talk, immediately stopping when the blonde only cried harder at the gesture. “I’m gonna need you to take deep breaths, Eve. Can you do that for me, please?”

The girl hiccupped, body wracked by sobs though clearly trying to follow.

“That’s right, just like that.”

Lilith’s spindly hands made her way up and down Eve’s back in tranquil motions.

“Wanna tell me what’s making you cry? I won’t tell anyone not even Paula and Joan.”

Eve shook her head, not even lifting her head from the crook of Lilith’s neck, her tip of her nose drawing a line from where her neck sloped down to her shoulders.

“Are you sure?”

“Yea-ah…”

Breathing still ragged, eyes still red-rimmed, cheeks still tear-stained, she pulled away from Lilith, sniveling.

“I’m s-sorry, I don’t know why I’m even crying-”

She cut the blonde off, though. “There’s nothing to be sorry for. But please don’t lie to me. You know why you’re crying. I’m not gonna make you talk about it, but you know.”

“Okay.” Eve whispered, a sort of willing surrender.

It was evident to Lilith that she wanted to talk. Shame held her back, unfortunate and burdensome. She didn’t speak, instead picking up the book from where it fell, opening to the page she had last read, finger tapping the paragraph before sliding the book across the small gap between them.

She skimmed over the paragraph and a few thereafter, finding nothing of note until she finally saw what Eve meant.

“This is what you were crying over?”

All she got in response was a nod, the girl looking to be on the brink of tears again.

“Why?”

Eve shook her head again. Her lip trembled, jutting out like a child trying their best not to cry.

“If I guess right will you tell me?”

Nothing.

“Want me to stop?”

Again, there was no reply.

“Can you tell me what you want me to do?”

A shrug of the shoulders. Nothing else.

“Do you know what you want me to do?”

She shook her head no, a few tears going with it. The only thing that left her mouth was a shaky sigh as she carded her hands through her hair. Tired. Eve looked tired. She was all that and more.

Lilith looked away from her, the pity she felt too much. There was nothing she could do. If only for a moment, she felt the degree of helplessness Eve felt, knowing she couldn’t help. It wasn’t foreign to her, helplessness. It was like seeing an old friend.

She could never bring herself to be angry or even annoyed at what was happening to Eve. Not when it’s happened to her, to Paula, to Joan, to Julia, to Colette.

Lost in thought, she was snapped back to reality as Eve dragged her closer, making her face away as the girl hugged her from behind.

Eve cried into her. It wasn’t the way she cried mere minutes ago, however. It was calmer, no hiccups or shaking. Only tears streaming down the girl’s face and soaking into Lilith’s shirt with a sniffle every once and a while.

Time passed and Lilith grew bolder, hand wandering to where Eve’s were wrapped around her stomach. Her touch was tentative, Eve’s hand treated like a fine porcelain piece.

“Is this okay?”

“No.” She said.

But she didn’t push Lilith’s away, instead opting to hold it, their fingers weaving together, slotting together as if their very flesh and bone were sculpted to be together, to intertwine, to love.

How cruel of God to craft two people for each other the turn to create a world were they were not to be.

“None of this is okay.”

______________________

Taglist: @anomiewrites @leahstypewriter @madame-ree @melpomenismask @littlemisscalamity @phillyinthebathroom @gaypeaches @extrabitterbrain @pirateofblood @i-wanna-be-a-rock

[greycappedjester]

"If ATFO isn’t up by the end of the month, feel free to ask me for an already written scene from one-shot from that universe." is the offer still open?

Gotcha! Sorry this is late 😬

Here is young Jason's POV. It's from right after Year 4 so before Tim and right after Jason was formally adopted (still in training to be Robin)

Here's the first eight pages

-------

Year 4.5: The Vacation

Alright, so here’s the thing.

Jason is a city boy. He grew up in a city. It was Gotham so it was a shit city and the part that he lived in even shittier; but, it was, without question, a city. And one where he had lived the entire fourteen years of his somewhat depressing life. Jason was familiar with said city.

So, Jason is decidedly not familiar with the so-called “great” outdoors. Fuck, he’s pretty sure the closest he’s come to nature is fights with Poison Ivy.

All of which is just too fricking bad because Jason also happens to be the recently adopted brother of Dick Grayson, who has for some unimaginable reason decided camping is the best way to spend a vacation.

And Jason is coming along.

Why? Because apparently Dick’s first thought had been this was a great time for brotherly bonding. Okay, actually his first was that it was perfect for Jason’s birthday but Jason had flat out refused and Dick moved it to the week after.

So, now, the newly fourteen year old is watching as Dick somehow crams a tent, sleeping bags, and camping gear into one of the Wayne’s very fancy and very compact sports cars.

Jason looks back wistfully to the manor door.

It’s probably not too late to back out.

But, as lame as it most definitely sounds, this camping trip actually seems really important to Dick. Like important enough to give Donna his Titans duties for a few days and ask Roy to be back up for Barbara in Gotham if she needed it. Plus, more terrifying, getting Barbara to agree to that.

And, as much as he refused to say it aloud, Jason could privately admit that Dick Grayson may have a very large part in why his recently somewhat depressing life is a now a lot less depressing.

Whatever. So, Jason might not actually think it’s too terrible to spend a few days with his older brother. Even with the camping.

That still doesn’t explain the other part.

“Why can’t we bring our uniforms again,” Jason complains, crossing his arms.

Dick doesn’t stop in his work to get the trunk shut. “Because that would mean we’re working and I’ve been informed by both Raquel and Zatanna that working vacations don’t actually count as vacations.” The trunk pops back open and Dick’s head disappears inside. “Besides, we won’t need them where we’re going.”

“Yeah, cause that doesn’t sound ominous,” Jason mutters under his breath.

“What was that?”

“Nothing!”

Dick emerges and the trunk finally closes with only a slight creak of protest. “Ha, there! What did I tell you? Circus performers always know the best packing tips.”

Jason is reluctantly somewhat impressed.

“Come on, get in! We’ve gotta get to the grounds while there’s still light to set up the tent.”

Jason slumps into the passenger seat. “Are you sure this isn’t like you stealthily training me in advanced wilderness survival or something?”

“It’s a vacation, Jason,” Dick insists, starting the car and backing down the drive way. “Believe me, if it was training, I’d pick a lot trickier place than twenty minutes out of Gotham city limits.”

Crap, if it was training, Jason would at least know it sucked for a reason. Doing it for fun makes it even worse.

“You know you’re an heir to like billions of dollars, right?”

“We’re the heirs,” Dick corrects because of course, he does.

Jason rolls his eyes. “I’m just saying if you wanted nature, we could go to like the Bahamas or the Galapagos or even just buy an island if that’s what you really wanted.”

“We don’t need an island.”

“Sure, we do. We could even use it as a secret prison for supervillains when we’re done. It would be great!”

Dick’s grinning, checking briefly before pulling into Gotham traffic. “Secret island prison bases definitely fall a bit too far into the supervillian category, Jay. They'll sue us for trademark infringement.”

“Still beats camping.”

“Camping’s fun!” Dick laughs. “Trust me. Millions of people do it every year. They can’t all be wrong.”

Per usual, Jason is far less trusting of the populace’s intelligence than Dick is.

As if to spite his skepticism, the hour or so drive out to the woods doesn’t go so bad. Jason commandeers the radio so they’re listening to a good classic rock station instead of being subjected to the weird mix of folk songs and pop music that Dick likes. The dark buildings and usual smog of Gotham starts to fade out around the forty minute mark, somewhere between one of Dick’s Titans stories and Jason complaining about a plot thread in the last book he read.

The drive is nice. Peaceful, even.

You know like most horror movies start.

“We’re here!”

Jason eyes the stretch of trees for any kind of sign or even a distinguishing feature. There’s nothing.

“Dick, this is definitely not a campsite.”

“It’s a few miles off,” Dick explains, dropping a bag in Jason’s arms. “I wanted to avoid the usual campgrounds in case the tabloid reporters found us. Don’t worry, I checked with the owner. No one’s used this stretch in years.”

Jason thinks there’s probably a reason for that since there’s not one hint of a trail in sight.

“Where are we even going to set up a tent?”

“Not sure,” Dick says way too cheerfully. “Finding a spot’s part of the fun!”

Jason gives him a look.

Dick rolls his eyes. “Relax, Jay. The owner told me there’s a stream about half a mile in. We’ll set up camp there.”

Jason still gives a token grumble just because.

By the time night rolls around, they do manage to find a camping spot, set up the tent, and Dick even starts up a small fire right in the middle of the campsite.

If pushed, Jason would admit the entire thing is a bit picturesque.

He bites down on his hot dog as Dick digs through the rest of their stuff.

“Oh! I almost forgot to tell you!” Dick pulls something out of the bag. “Look, I brought stuff to make s'mores!”

“Cool, hand them over” Jason grabs for the bag of marshmallows only for Dick to pull them away.

“Not yet, they’re for our last day. Gotta ration out the food.”

Jason rolls his eyes. “You’re ridiculous. Why not bring enough for every night?”

“Cause then it’s less special,” Dick answers sagely. “Think about it like a prize for surviving camping.”

Because Jason is the generous sort, he doesn’t even make a crack about “surviving”.

“So, okay, let’s say I buy that camping is a vacation,” he says instead between bites.

“It is a vacation.”

“Yeah, fine, sure. Real question though, why are we taking a vacation?” He waves a hand. “What ever happened to ‘crime never sleeps’ and everything?”

“I’ve never said that!”

“You said it to Babs last week!”

“That was so she’d help me run the Poison Ivy samples! That doesn’t count! She didn’t even believe me!”

“Definitely counts!”

Dick rolls his eyes. “You know most kids don’t need a reason to go on vacation before school starts.”

“So, that’s what this is,” Jason accuses. “This is for you! You wanted a vacation before college!”

Dick turns his face down to poke at the fire. “I’m not going to college...not this year anyway.”

Jason frowns. “I thought you got accepted to Gotham U. Shit, I know you did. Alfred still has the letter hanging on the fridge.”

Dick shrugs. “I’m going to turn it down. There’s too much going on right now. Gotham. The Titans. I’ve gotta start sitting in at the Wayne Enterprise meetings soon, too. I don’t have time for classes.”

“Pretty sure, the classes would help with the Wayne Enterprise crap,” Jason says. “And you know Roy and Donna can help with the Titans and Babs and I can cover more in Gotham if--”

“Jay, it’s fine,” Dick cuts him off. “I need to choose what to focus on and it just can’t be college right now. It’s okay.”

Jason wants to argue more but then Dick’s continuing

“And, hey, I know camping’s not exactly your thing; but, I’m glad you decided to come anyway.” Dick gives him a blinding grin. “You deserve to do some normal summer stuff after all the Robin training. And I’m glad I get to spend some time with my favorite little brother.

Jason glares, ignoring the way his cheeks have gone warm. “Shut up, I’m your only brother. And you know I hate it when you say stuff like that.”

“No, you don’t,” Dick says, shit eating grin in place.

Jason flings the bag of hot dog buns at him.

He catches it, still grinning. The asshole.

-----

Something that’s always jarring but becomes really fucking obvious once he thinks about it is the fact that Dick gets nightmares.

Of course, he does. How could he not? Jason’s doesn’t know why he never expects it.

It’s not even loud nightmares with like screaming and flailing arms and shit. It’s just these short, sharp little gasps as his body goes entirely too stiff and face twists in pain. Sometimes, Jason thinks that’s worse than screaming.

Jason shifts in his sleeping bag, turning to face the top of the tent. He briefly contemplates waking Dick up; but, he knows from experience, it won’t help much. Better to let him get some rest until the nightmare goes away on its own.

Only problem is that Jason still can’t fall asleep. It’s kind of funny. He’s never really thought of himself as a picky sleeper before. Fuck knows he’s slept on way too many of Gotham’s mold infested roofs back when his dad was on parole. But, there’s something about the cold feeling of hard dirt that he swears he can feel even under the layers of sleeping bag and tent.

Camping sucks.

Screw it. Jason’s not just going to lay here all night. Least he can do is get up and explore around the campsite so he can have a better idea of whatever “fun” activities he’s sure Dick has planned for tomorrow.

He slips out of the tent without waking up Dick--which actually does serve as a fairly good challenge for his new Robin training--and heads into the woods, careful to keep note of how far away he goes from camp. He feels ridiculously like he should have bread crumbs or some other kind of fairy tale stuff to track his way through the forest.

He swears if he survived living in Crime Alley, Black Mask, and a freaking explosion just to get lost and die in the woods, he’s going to haunt Dick forever. Jason the Unfriendly Ghost.

He gets to the stream that he and Dick found earlier so at least he’s not that lost.

SNAP!

Jason’s head whips around in the direction of the noise.

Nothing.

He lets out a long breath. Dumb, of course, it’s nothing. It’s the forest. Forests make weird noises. It’s reason #357 why they’re terrible.

SNAP!

Okay...that definitely sounded like something big….but, maybe it’s something normal like a tree branch snapping or--

Snap!...Snap!...Snap!

That’s footsteps.

Jason moves back into the tree line, crouching down until he’s covered in the darkness of the bushes. His hands run over the ground, trying to find anything even remotely useful other than a slightly pointy stick.

Snap!...Snap!

Shit, he really is going to die here, isn’t he? In this stupid forest before he even gets to go out as Robin. Of all the dumb fucking--

Snap!...snap!...snap...snap.

The footsteps are getting further away. Echoing deeper and deeper into the forest on the other side of the stream.

snap...snap...snap…

Jason listens, in slight amazement, as the sounds slowly fade off into the distance until they finally disappear. Slowly, Jason counts in his mind to sixty, then a hundred and twenty, then two hundred.

On three hundred, he bolts--tearing through the forest in the direction of the camp until he finally catches sight of the obnoxiously bright yellow of the tent Dick bought, shining in front of him like a heavenly beacon.

He tears through the opening, breathing heavily, just a half a second before there’s an arm jammed hard against his neck.

“Jay?”

The pressure disappears and then Dick’s looking down at him with wide eyes and a slight blush. “Sorry about that. Was surprised. What’s wrong?”

Jason’s heart rate’s finally slowing down. And here in the safety of the tent, in the face of Dick’s patented concerned face, admitting to getting freaked out by noises in the woods seems beyond stupid.

“Nothing,” he mutters. “Just thought I heard something?”

“Heard something?”

“Yeah, like footsteps.”

Dick frowns. “We’re on private camp land. There shouldn’t be anyone around here. You sure?”

Jason shakes his head, face feeling hot, as he sits back down on his sleeping bag. “No. Don’t worry about it. Like I said, it was probably nothing. Maybe it’s just a mountain lion that’s gonna eat us in our sleep.”

Dick pats his shoulder. “Mountain lions don’t really live in this region, Jay.”

Jason rolls his eyes before turning over pointedly to try to get some more sleep.

“It’s bears you need to worry about.”

[halothenthehorns]

All in the Family

Chapter 80: The Unexpected Task

Lily's landing was actually not uncomfortable for once. She floundered in place upon her back, but it was soft material ruffling behind her whatever it was. Worry spiking if this was some sort of trap to compel her to get comfortable, she sat up abruptly, bunching the silk blanket in her hand suspiciously. She found herself in a luxury room fit for a princess.

The canopy bed was baby blue with pink lace, the pillow looked scandalously shaped perfectly for her head, there was even a thin film draping's that were almost see-through and felt cool as rain to the touch, but were blocking out almost all the light. The moment she pushed them aside, they glided away without a second thought, and she could see a window, leading out onto the Hogwarts grounds. She stood at it for a long time, seeing Hagrid's cabin in the distance, and got a strange guess of where she was, but wanted further proof. She got it almost immediately when she passed the trunk at the end of the bed wide open with Beauxbatons uniforms neatly folded inside, and The Book resting on top. They must be inside their carriage then, possibly with Fleur making a larger appearance in the coming chapter.

Inspecting the area just a bit more, she found a private bathroom that resembled a spa more than anything, and would have believed it if someone told her she spent a weeks worth of time just enjoying being by herself and not thinking of anything but how warm the water was, even if she couldn't read any of the french labels. Once she got out she swayed on her feet for a few moments with comfortable exhaustion, for once, deciding that as she'd landed in here and nobody had come to call yet, another good rest was in order. They'd all stopped plenty of times in the past with mutual sleep at hand. It took nothing else to convince her to crawl back into the strange bed and the slightest of tugs had the curtains back around her before she was out.

Frank dithered uncomfortably in the hallway. He'd grudgingly passed several open and inviting beds in the long, candelabra lit hallway just to find Alice, to assure she was alright and this wasn't some weird trap for Harry's next task, but he'd found her peacefully asleep. She'd even found a room with some muggle invention that had music playing from a big black disk she'd figured out how to work, it sounded like a nice string quartet in the whole room. However, he didn't want to assume just because they'd shared a bed together once she'd be okay with it again, especially in even more, ah, private quarters as all of these rooms seemed set for individuals. He'd just turned away and decided to just sleep in the room across, honestly the floor looked comfortable enough to nap on at this rate, when a giggle behind him made him twirl around to see she'd rolled over and was laughing herself silly at him before beckoning him to get in while wiggling to the far side of the bed.

"But Moony!" Sirius whined, managing to sound like an irritable six year old despite being ten years plus that. "Why not just take the opportunity while we can to not have to sleep in the same place as those two wankers, I quite enjoyed it last time."

"Because last time, we hardly slept a wink," he didn't need to elaborate, and was glad they hadn't found the other two yet as he couldn't quite suppress a blush. "We're finding them first you dolt."

They'd already passed several rooms containing their other quest members asleep, and Remus was just beginning to wonder if he'd passed them accidentally somehow when he came across a room with stripped bedding, and now sure at least they were thinking the same as him, he kept his hold on Sirius and dragged him along until he found what must be the equivalent of a living room in a mansion inside this pumpkin carriage. Peter was already curled up on the queen sized sofa, fidgeting with his school tie despite the fact it was loose enough to come off. James was upside down in a squashy armchair Maxime herself could stretch out in, his glasses placed carefully on top but eyes wide awake.

There hadn't been this much awkward silence between the four of them since their first year, those first few months before they'd even decided if they liked each other, let alone would become the best friends they were supposed to be. Both of them still grinned when they entered, and Sirius couldn't stop a small, albeit grudging smile as he shook his head at the lot of them, calling them sentimental fools as he snatched some covers from the floor and padded down in yet another available couch next to the purple lit fireplace that had wine goblets only half empty he'd save for breakfast. Remus barely had time to smile before he too passed out amongst the synchronized snoring, letting his feet tangle together with Sirius' but resting on the opposite arm of the couch.

Regulus stretched languidly as he awoke, still as disoriented as ever to find the light outside was exactly where it had been when he'd gone to sleep, but the comfortable bed had rivaled his own and who evers room he'd borrowed had good taste. There were posters of all of the French National Quidditch Team doing their signature move, the Blitzen Ballet, across several posters, which had been what had drawn him into the room in the first place.

He pulled some individually wrapped macaroons out of his pocket and began eating those as he went through the rest of this persons belongings, finding several textbooks all in French he couldn't follow, but not the book they needed. He didn't really fancy going through every room to find it, but he also didn't want to start until he knew everyone was awake- "The Unexpected Task." He crumpled a purple one up in his hand in surprise all over the blokes belongings. Well, clearly Evans didn't have those same reserves.

James startled awake with a yelp, flopping right out of the chair and confused for several long moments. Whoever would have thought waking up to the sound of Evans' voice would give him heart failure? The others were stirring with only slightly more dignity, he couldn't even blame Sirius when the first thing he did was reach up and snag those wine glasses to finish them off as her voice echoed around them before they'd even had morning tea.

"Evans does an impression of McGonagall telling off Harry too well," Peter groaned, trying to shove the blanket through his skull.

Remus looked like he was trying to burrow into the couch for more rest without comment, and James and Sirius woke up too hungry to really be paying much attention as their head of house held up Ron and Harry after class for something as silly as not paying attention. The two of them were busy trading a basket of fried fish back and forth and lamenting how fast it was vanishing when they simultaneously choked on the cold batter upon hearing no detention was being served, but quite the unexpected task indeed.

"Harry has to wha-?" Remus actually jerked his head free from his cocoon.

"Get a date, and dance her?" Peter repeated, inspecting the sleep he'd rubbed from his eyes as if expecting to find something else contaminating him.

"Or him," Sirius corrected with a suddenly wicked smile, "maybe he'll ask Ron, you don't know Wormy." The snide remark had slide easily from his tongue as he envisioned the fun of Hogwarts hosting something like a dance, it wasn't until he looked over to see his mate blush and stammer at the idea that he really, fully woke up. He wouldn't have believed it five seconds ago himself.

Peter was smiling to himself despite not able to look over at Sirius, and James swooped in to save the awkward silence. "Listen to this poor kid telling McGonagall he isn't going to do it! A books not good enough anymore, I'd pay money to see this in action!"

For just a moment, they all got a good laugh out of that.

They weren't the only ones, Frank and Alice were having their own fits of laughter still curled up in bed. Frank could at least sympathize with Harry though as he struggled to even conceptualize asking Cho out, he'd had a crush on Alice for months before he'd over heard her struggling with Charms and offering to tutor her. Asking her out, outright and to a dance, would have been insanity at that point. They both listened intently for any hint of what Neville would be up to during all of this. As much as they sympathized with Harry not being able to go alone because of his public dancing, they very much hoped Neville would at least be mentioned going with some friends rather than not at all.

Lily was giving herself a very hearty pat on the back for deciding to read this one alone. She was sure it wasn't just her imagination hearing the obnoxious laughter of the Marauders over this adorable idea, barely a teenager Regulus' pompous expression and possibly boasting he'd been trained to waltz before he could walk, and worst of all Frank and Alice's adoring looks at each other. She liked the both of them, more and more as they talked honestly, but her own life right now didn't leave her in a good position to be happy the only two people she could possibly count as friends during all this were dating and she felt like she was a third wheel half the time around them.

It was even more than that, if she were being honest with herself. While the idea of getting to dress up like that for the evening sounded nice in theory, she had about as much chance of going with anyone as Harry did Cho. Her heart sank for the poor lad as his crush admitted she was going with Cedric. Her prospects were even less endearing. Potter would ask her, of course, and anyone who proceeded to afterwords would likely end up in the hospital wing for one various reason or another until the offers stopped for a time again. And Sev...

She flipped the page hurriedly, it would be too obvious now if she stopped to stew over this, someone may come and see where she was and she wanted to actually enjoy this alone chance while she had it.

Regulus listened with the most absent of attention to these teenagers getting turned down left and right, the Marauders laughter echoing out into the hallway as he went exploring the rest of the carriage. Was he the only one who still remembered someone had put Harry in this tournament for more than embarrassing him? Nobody had even bothered to speculate on a suspect in ages, Regulus didn't really buy it was Karkaroff himself. It wasn't improving his mood he'd had no one to talk to in a while now, of course now that Peter had made up with his friends and they were all chummy again he'd go right back to being ignored. He should have known nothing about his life would ever really change no matter how much he heard.

He startled in surprise upon opening the next door as an orange cat came tottering out of the room, immediately twirling around his legs and purring in affection. Shaking his head in disbelief someone would bring their pet on this trip, he bent down regardless and gave a friendly scratch on the felines rump as he looked around once more, finding something new to wonder on. Why was it the pets were usually present? Magical animals as well, he reminded himself with a shiver of disgust at the basilisk. The paintings had all been present to, but he'd have never considered them as people. What was the criteria then for what was left behind as they were thrown around this place? It was something to ponder on at hand anyways, as he found himself sprawled on the floor, covered in cream colored fur while Hermione Granger dropped the surprise she'd gotten a date but wasn't telling who.

The chapter was finally coming to an end with everyone successfully getting dates, and Regulus snorted in disgust, was he the only one not obsessing with romance around here?

[lasting-inkpressions]

I Put A Spell On You (Because You’re Mine) [2/11]

Summary: Denali is in love with her very much straight best friend, but a break up later and one drunken night together changes everything.

Note: Definitely NSFW.

Prefer reading it on AO3?

“Rosie Rosie Rosie.”

Denali chanted her name repeatedly as Rosé continued pumping her fingers into her, her head thrashing against the pillow as she whimpered. She watched Denali unravel beneath her ministrations, marvelling at how she looked even more beautiful when she was consumed in ecstasy. Pushing herself up, her fingers never stopping, she pressed her mouth to Denali’s, groaning when she felt the other woman’s mouth open, allowing her to sweep her tongue in. Rosé curled her fingers and Denali’s hips jerked, head turning and disengaging from Rosé’s lips with a sob.

“So beautiful.”

Rosé sucked a new mark on Denali’s jaw, trailing kisses down her neck as she moaned her name louder.

“Rosie, Rosie…”

Rosé grinned, pressing her face against Denali’s neck.

“Wake up Rosie!”

Rosé’s eyes flew open and she shot up, panting hard.

Fuck, it was just a dream.

And it wasn’t the first time Rosé had dreamed of Denali in that way either. Sighing, she tossed back her covers and got out of bed, rubbing her face in frustration. She left her bedroom and walked over to the kitchen, deciding that some water was what she needed to cool her off.

“Rosie?”

Stopping, Rosé registered Denali sitting cross legged in the middle of the pink fur rug in the living room, with her notebook opened and records with post its stuck on them scattered about on the ground. How on earth had Rosé not noticed her earlier?

“Nali? What are you doing up so late?”

“Just working on some music and choreography ideas. Are you okay? You look a little flushed.”

Rosé swallowed and shrugged as she retrieved a bottle of water from the fridge. “Just had a nightmare, that’s all.” Nightmare was definitely not the right word, but she couldn’t exactly tell her best friend that she had been having vivid dreams of fucking her for the past week now, could she? Walking back out to Denali, she saw her scooting over on the rug and patting the space on her right. Hesitating for a second, Rosé moved over and sat next to her, taking a drink of water. Setting the bottle down, she turned to find Denali staring at her mouth.

“Denali?”

The younger woman blinked and cleared her throat, her cheeks tinged pink for a moment before stuttering. “Yeah, so I’m just brainstorming for my choreography classes. Was thinking of maybe finding some new tracks, or at least less mainstream ones. Have to keep things fresh while educating the people with good music, right?”

Rosé chuckled. “That’s my Nali, always educating the masses.” She looked over the post its stuck on the records, trying to make sense of them when Denali leaned over, reaching for the record on Rosé’s right. Rosé froze, hit by Denali’s scent and struggled not to react to her hair brushing against her bare thigh, assaulted by the images of her latest dream, of Denali writhing beneath her, moaning her name over and over again. Rosé took a deep breath and clenched her fist, forcing herself not to think about it.

“Check out this record I managed to find the other day.” Blinking back to reality, she looked at Denali and then the album that she was holding out. Taking it out of her hands, she flipped it over and scanned the track list as Denali rambled on, then looked back at Denali’s bright face.

Rosé liked moments like these, when Denali was talking about work. She always admired how Denali injected so much life and passion into her dance, and listening to her talk about it was always a breath of fresh air. Denali’s eyes were bright and alive, lips stretched into a big smile and her dimples were out in full force. Her hands were moving in tandem as she spoke, pointing to the different records she had laid around her as she explained her thought process. One of her hands moved to rest on Rosé’s knee and suddenly Rosé was hyper aware of how warm her hand was on her skin. Biting the inside of her cheek and fighting the urge to hold it, Rosé nodded along, until she noticed Denali was starting to yawn. She looked over at the clock and noted that it was close to 3am when she felt a weight on her shoulder. Peering to her left, Denali smiled sleepily at her as she leaned against her. Rosé smiled back, patting her head.

“Looks like it’s time for someone to go to bed.” Shaking her head and whining, Denali burrowed into her shoulder. “Not yet, don’t wanna. Just wanna sit with you for a while.” Smiling fondly at the sleepy Denali, Rosé wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her closer, letting her rest at her side for a while. They sat in silence, Rosé breathing in Denali’s scent and enjoying the feel of having the younger woman against her as she rubbed soothing circles on her waist.

It wasn’t too long before Rosé heard soft little snores and noticed Denali had fallen asleep. Deciding against waking her, Rosé carefully picked Denali up and carried her to her bedroom.

Gently tucking the young woman in, Rosé sat on the bed, watching over Denali for a bit. She looked more innocent in the moonlight, a contrast to her lively self when she was awake, her features soft and peaceful. Rosé reached out, wanting to stroke Denali on the cheek, but stopped herself just an inch away. Retracting her hand and sighing, Rosé instead pulled the blanket up and left Denali’s room for her own, hoping to be able to have a more restful sleep this time.

———————

It was one of those rare days where Denali had some time off where there were no classes that day, and she had decided to take the time to do some house cleaning. It wasn’t that Rosé and her were messy, it was just that sometimes their schedules were so packed that they didn’t have the time to actually tidy up the house. Thankfully, the only class she had that day had been a private one that had been cancelled due to a conflict in her student’s schedule.

After mooching about on her bed in the morning, she had gone through her catalogue of records and set a random one she had to play on the player in the living room, setting the volume to be loud enough to be heard throughout the house, but not too loud to disturb the neighbours. Dressed in nothing but a tie dye crop top and denim shorts, hair pulled into messy bun, Denali whisked around the house, starting with the living room.

When she had first moved in with her original roommate, the living room had been generic, just a typical white washed one with the basic amenities. Once her roommate had moved out, she had slowly personalised it with a beanbag, moved her record player out from her bedroom with a small shelf of her record collection and hung a few of her favourite pictures on the walls. Denali hadn’t really been keen about finding another roommate and had been stalling on that. She had enjoyed having the place to herself, but she knew that she wouldn’t be able to handle paying the rent on her own for long. When Rosé had broken up with her boyfriend and needed a place to stay, Denali was more than happy to have her best friend as her roommate.

When Rosé had moved in, the living room had reflected that. The photos on the walls now included Rosé’s pictures, a pink fur rug was thrown next to the beanbag, a Nintendo Switch set up by the television and her own records were mixed in with Denali’s collection. It was a lot cosier now, not as cold and impersonal as it once was. It wasn’t that Denali’s old roommate had been boring, it was just that they never really got to know each other, so the relationship had been nothing but cordial, a necessity. With Rosé, the apartment seemed to liven up more, with both their personalities touching the whole place.

Denali sat in front of the shelf of records and started sorting through the ones that were strewn about on the floor. She honestly loved the fact that both their things had mixed so well together, their aesthetics and tastes similar. Even their interests were pretty similar. There were days where the both of them would just play a random record and dance about just because they could, or they would push the furniture to the sides to do some yoga, which would inevitably end up with Rosé grunting in frustration for the harder poses and Denali laughing at the faces that she’d make.

Sliding the last record into the shelf, she moved on to tidy up the rest of the room, humming as her mind began to wander back to her best friend.

Lately, Denali had noticed that Rosé was acting a little off, and she couldn’t exactly pinpoint when the change had started. It wasn’t glaringly obvious, but somehow she seemed to be treating Denali differently.

It had been subtle at first, just catching Rosé looking at her every now and then, and every time she caught her, Rosé would just turn away and carry on with whatever she was doing. And then there were the increased number of casual touches, fingers grazing against hers when taking something from her, brushing against her side if she happened to walk past her, sitting closer to her on the couch, their hands bumping together when they walked side by side. If she hadn’t known any better, Denali would think that this was in reaction to the night they slept together, but it seemed impossible since it had been more than a month ago and the slight change in her behaviour was more recent. Besides, Rosé seemed to have forgotten all about it and had never brought up their time together.

Then again, neither did Denali. As much as she had treasured that night, she had buried it deep inside her, not wanting to do anything to jeopardise their friendship.

Just like how she would never let Rosé know her true feelings for her.

Hours later, Denali had finished tidying up their shared quarters and was finishing up with the kitchen. She was getting tired and her skin felt grimy, but she felt accomplished with how much tidier the house was. She’d even tossed the dirty laundry into the wash, and the dryer was now humming happily with the load of clean clothes, the smell of fresh laundry detergent permeating through the house.

Denali was putting the dried dishes away in the kitchen shelves when she heard the sound of the front door opening.

“Honey, I’m home!” Rosé playful voice echoed in the house and Denali laughed. “Welcome home Rosie! Notice anything different about the house?”

She grabbed the last cup to put it away and was eyeing the last bit of space on a higher shelf when she heard rustling and footsteps coming up behind her. The footsteps stopped just as she tiptoed and stretched upwards to push the cup into place when she felt a hand on the bare skin of her back to support her and another hand guiding her own to slide it in. Smiling, she turned around to thank Rosé but the words died on her lips when she was met with smouldering eyes. Denali inhaled sharply as Rosé took a step forward and crowded into her space. She noticed Rosé’s eyes raking her figure, lingering at the swell of her chest before settling on her slightly parted mouth. Licking her lips and swallowing the lump in her throat, Denali whispered.

“Rosé?”

As if snapping out of a trance, Rosé took a step back and cleared her throat, then smiled at Denali. “Someone did a bit of house cleaning I see.”

Blinking at the lightning quick change, Denali nodded slowly. “Yeah, I even did the laundry.” Nodding back at her, Rosé seemed to think for a second before dropping a quick peck on Denali’s cheek. “Thank you, Nali. What do you want to order in for dinner? I’ll pay since you cleaned.”

Stunned, Denali watched Rosé as she left the kitchen, her mind wandering back to how oddly Rosé had been acting lately. Another thing to add to the growing list in her head.

“You might want to take a shower first though, you don’t smell as clean as this house right now.”

Sputtering at Rosé’s comment, Denali abandoned her train of thought as she chased after Rosé with an indignant, “Hey!”.

———————

Rosé didn’t know why, but lately she felt as if her control was slipping and she was beginning to act more impulsively than usual when she was around Denali. Everything the younger woman did seemed to taunt her.

When Rosé had gotten home the other day and entered the kitchen, her breath had been knocked out of her when she saw Denali tip toeing and stretching up to put a cup away on the kitchen shelf, the smooth curve of her back exposed. The next thing Rosé knew, she had her hand cradling the small of Denali’s back and her hand covered hers, supporting her. When Denali had turned around, Rosé couldn’t stop herself from getting closer, desire clouding her mind as she took in Denali’s form. The crop top she wore revealed a toned midriff, the swell of her chest barely covered and as her eyes travelled up, her heart stuttered at the pink that dusted Denali’s cheeks, slightly parted lips and loose dark strands falling around her face.

If Denali hadn’t said her name, Rosé didn’t know what she would have done then and there.

Now here she was, knocking back a few drinks at the bar with some of her friends. She knew alcohol had been the root of her problems the last time, but Rosé needed something to distract her from the object of her desires dancing in the middle of the club. Denali was her best friend, she shouldn’t be lusting after her the way that she was right now. It was just so wrong on so many levels.

Ordering another vodka shot, she knocked it back and turned back to the dance floor, her eyes automatically drawn to Denali. She gripped the shot glass in her hand as the colourful neon lights lit her up, her moves fluid as she danced, leaving many staring at her in awe, Rosé included.

“Looks like someone’s got it bad for her bestie.”

She turned to see Gottmik watching her, eyebrow raised.

“What?”

“I meant you. You haven’t stopped staring at Denali since she went off to dance with the others.” Scoffing at the shorter boy, Rosé discarded the shot glass on the counter, resisting the urge to order another.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Gottmik shrugged at her reply. “I wouldn’t blame you, the girl’s gorge. I’d go for her if she wasn’t clearly interested in only women.”

Rosé snorted and turned back to look at Denali just as she spun around. The younger woman spotted Rosé looking her way and grinned, waving her over. A part of her wanted to stay away, but the need to be close to Denali outweighed that and soon she found herself going towards the other girl, leaving Gottmik with the others.

The music thumped rhythmically around her as she joined Denali on the dance floor, Olivia and Joey not too far away.

“Hey angel.”

“Hey Rosie.”

Denali took hold of Rosé’s hand and playfully tugged her closer, causing Rosé to laugh and spin her around by the hand in return. The two of them danced to the music, bodies moving in sync. There were times when others tried to intrude, but the two would simply brush them off, not wanting anyone else to join in their small happy bubble. It wasn’t long before the alcohol in Rosé’s system started to take effect, and she began to regret her decision to have those last few shots. As the night wore on, more people started joining the dance floor, forcing her and Denali to dance even closer.

The fog in her mind started to increase the closer she got to Denali, and soon she found herself more and more enamoured by the woman practically dancing in her arms, her hold on Denali slowly tightening, pulling her closer than necessary. They younger woman hadn’t registered their intimate proximity and instead was happy to carry on dancing with her, smiling up at her with wide innocent brown eyes, and Rosé felt the control she held onto so tightly slipping even more. Before she could do anything she would regret, she quickly excused herself and left Denali on the dance floor.

Pushing her way out of the crush of bodies, she exited the club and made her way to the side, her mind racing with too many thoughts. She leaned against the brick wall, breathing heavily as she tried to reign it in.

What was wrong with her? Just one night together with Denali, and suddenly she couldn’t stop thinking about her. It had gone way past unhealthy and bordered on obsession, and she didn’t know what to do with herself. She’d lost count of the number of times she had wanted to drag Denali to her, to kiss and touch her all over, to completely devour her whole until there was nothing left. Denali didn’t even need to do anything, and Rosé was panting after her. She couldn’t understand herself. How could she go from being in a relationship, with a boyfriend, to wanting her best friend?

Her very much female best friend?

“Rosie?”

Rosé shut her eyes at her familiar voice. Denali was the last person she wanted to see right now.

“Are you okay? You don’t look so good.”

She felt a gentle hand on her cheek, and she opened her eyes to see Denali staring back at her in concern, feeling herself drown in warm brown eyes.

Beautiful warm brown eyes.

Denali came closer, pressing her forehead against Rosé’s, and she had to bite back a groan. Denali was too close, and Rosé’s tenuous control was fraying.

“You feel a little warm, do you want to go back?” Not trusting herself to speak, Rosé nodded in response and to her relief, Denali pulled back. The relief was short lived though as Denali took her hand and pulled her to the road to catch a cab.

Suddenly all her focus was on that one point of contact, and Rosé couldn’t help but notice how well their hands fit together. Years of being friends and casual hand holding, and only now did she notice how soft and warm her hands were, almost petite against her own strong ones. She was pulled out of her daze as Denali tugged her into the backseat of a cab she had managed to hail. Denali rattled off their address to the driver then pulled Rosé to her side, resting the older woman against her shoulder and hummed to her, never once letting go of her hand and completely oblivious to the effect she had on Rosé. In the small cab with no where to run, Rosé was getting more and more intoxicated with Denali’s scent and being, the soft hum of her voice, the warm soothing touch of her hand, the press of their thighs together.

It was too much.

The fog in her mind got heavier and she lost track of the time between getting into the cab and reaching home, because the next thing she knew was Denali was dropping her off on her bed, and was moving to leave when she grabbed hold of her hand, not wanting to let go.

“Rosie?”

Denali looked down at Rosé in confusion, and gasped when Rosé pressed a kiss to the back of her hand, slowly pulling the younger woman closer to her as she kissed her way up her fore arm, stopping to nip the skin at the crook of her elbow, before wrapping her arms around her waist, pressing more kisses round her middle and pulling Denali down onto her lap.

Burning hazel eyes met innocent brown ones before Rosé hungrily pulled Denali into a blazing kiss.

———————

There was too much. Too much going on at once. Clothes had been hurriedly pulled off of her, her body pressed down onto the bed as Rosé touched Denali everywhere with her hands and lips.

This wasn’t what she was expecting. She hadn’t expected this again.

At first Denali had tried to protest, smelling the faint scent of alcohol on Rosé’s breath, but her words were simply swallowed by Rosé’s lips. She didn’t fight very hard, her own feelings getting the best of her, the feeling of the woman she had been so in love with all these years finally in her arms. She had tried to forget that fateful night all those weeks ago, and had been mostly successful, but with each kiss and caress from Rosé, she started to unravel. She found herself giving in, letting Rosé do whatever she wanted to her body, until Denali was a shaking mess. She had tried to return the favour, but each attempt was met with more ardent kisses and the feeling of being so utterly consumed.

She felt like she was burning with all the attention Rosé was giving her, all the constant touches and teasing leaving her feeling absolutely wrecked, Rosé seeming to derive her own pleasure from pleasuring her.

Denali panted hard, feeling as if her third orgasm had been yanked out of her. She felt absolutely boneless, her bare skin damp with sweat from the exertion. Barely seconds later, she felt fingers slide back into her and she gasped, the feeling of curling fingers too much on her sensitive walls. She weakly tried to push the hand away but stopped when she felt a strong hand push down against her left hip. Denali looked down and whimpered when her glassy brown eyes met burning hazel ones. Shaking her head as tears started forming, she tried to push the hand away again. “Too much.” She gasped. “Rosie please, it’s too much.”

Denali tossed her head back with a ragged moan when the pressure increased, Rosé’s fingers relentless.

“Just one more, baby. Please? For me?”

It was just getting too much, the overstimulation, the tangy sweet scent of sweat and vanilla, Rosé’s very being enveloping her completely. Denali felt like she was going to combust, her senses overloaded. She wanted to say no, wanted to stop to recover, but with how Rosé was looking at her, worshipping her body, her own feelings of longing for the older woman overriding all reason, she gave in, nodding weakly in consent. Rosé smirked, the hand that had been holding down Denali’s hip wandered down to join her other hand as she pressed her thumb against the sensitive bundle of nerves, before pulling her fingers out, spreading Denali open with both hands and pushing her tongue in where her fingers had just been.

Denali nearly screamed, having to bite at the back of her hand to muffle it as she felt Rosé lapping at her walls, fingers teasing the bundle of nerves and sliding in to stimulate her even more.

It was too much. Too much all at once, as she felt Rosé continue to absolutely wreck her, alternating between her fingers and her tongue, face buried between her legs. Denali buried her fingers in Rosé’s pink hair, tugging her up and she heard her groan, pulling away, face shiny with her slick, pupils completely blown. She swooped back down and kissed Denali deeply, one hand palming her left breast while her other hand never left her core. It wasn’t long before she felt her walls clench around Rosé’s fingers, hips jerking as Denali came undone with a sharp cry. Rosé let her ride it out, continuing to stroke her through the aftershocks until Denali whimpered at her to stop, only then did she pull her fingers away, massaging her sides as she cooed at how good Denali had been.

They younger woman’s eyes were glazed over, her breathing shallow as she felt herself slowly recovering from her back to back releases. She faintly registered Rosé leaving the room and returning moments later, and felt herself being wiped down with a damp cloth. Finally coming down from her high just as Rosé was done cleaning the sweat and slick off of her, Rosé carefully manoeuvred Denali into her arms, spooning her. She wrapped the younger woman in her arms, pressing soft kisses to the back of her neck and murmured quiet words of praise as she traced mindless patterns on her hipbone, letting Denali finally rest and drift off to sleep.

———————

So... That happened. It's a lot. A lot more than I expected.

Now let me go hide my face in the sand as I question my life decisions.