#When i was stuck on the grapevine for two hours

[freebooter4ever]

So im still exhausted. I keep making dumb mistakes and doing stupid shit like leaving charging cords at work or at home. My coordination is gone, im tripping and knocking into things. My eyes feel sore??? All i want to do anymore is lie down and try to sleep. :/

I think i was running on pure adrenaline last week...and now that 'panic' mode is done my body is paying me back for all the stress. :( i barely slept the entire time i was traveling, i regularly drove for like 10+ hrs on next to no sleep which...yeah. I know. Dangerous. The constant tension of whether or not snow was going to make my next route passable, and worry over keeping other people's schedules. And then to get to my grandparents house and to find out they're not moving till may and the 'end of march' deadline was an arbitrary schedule that didnt actually matter. Im not mad, i cant be mad at them they're moving which is stress enough, im just...mourning my exhaustion and inability to function lol. Had they let me wait even one more month the snow and the insane storms would have been gone.

Anyway, just thinking about that feeling of 'safety' or 'comfort' and how precious a thing it is for me (and my sleep) . After my anxiety started growing worse it takes a LOT for me to feel 'safe' with someone or somewhere. My italian grandparent's house would be one, nick's sister's house would be another. And then my friends house in the mountains of oregon, who are just the kindest, most generous people. The two nights i spent there were literally the only times i slept last week.

Back in the fall of 2018, six months after grandpa died and still unemployed, i helped grandma travel by train to ohio, flew back to seattle, stayed with sanjeev for a week ish, and then started south to los angeles because i literally couldnt think of anywhere else to go. And these friends in oregon - they were off traveling at the time - let me stay in their house for over a week. I was so scared about the future, i was still grieving and feeling like a total ghost, still processing my dad's very friendly comment (when i asked him why he hadn't offered to let me stay in his house after i flew back from ohio) about how if i couldn't afford to house myself i deserved to be homeless.

(honestly that wasn't even the part that bothered me - i knew that about my dad from the time when i was a kid and he would point out homeless people to me and jokingly say 'that will be you as an artist!'. Instead of instilling fear in me though this backfired and all my charity work in high school dealt with homeless shelters lol. But no, the part that bothered me was how he tacked another comment onto the end - that life 'couldn't go back to how it was'. THAT was when i broke down crying in front of him because i think stupid me still genuinely believed that if i moved back to seattle my dad would go back to being my best friend and it'd be us against the world again.)(i saw him for five minutes in sac last week - he refused to even have lunch with us)

Instead in 2018 i was anchorless, emotionally disconnected from reality, and instead of comdemning me like everybody else in my family, my friends were like 'dont worry about it, the house is empty, please use it.' And i did! I was nervous at first. But then i started exploring the area - went to a bunch of state parks out in the middle of nowhere hidden in the high desert. Ended up LOVING one of them and collected those tacky tourist maps and just scribbled all my observations and tips on the best roads to drive/things to do/see onto the margins. And i collected all the brochures and compiled a kind of guide, and left it on the counter just in case my friends hadn't found that particular area to explore yet. And sure enough, they hadn't! To this day they still talk about how happy they were to have all these suggestions and things to see, and how that particular area is now one of their favorite places to visit. So what im saying is that's the only place i got any rest last week. Also those pancakes. I need to make those pancakes.

Anyway i'm just so fucking tired, man. This is the second 'vacation' where i've come back more exhausted than when i left, i think i need to do something differently. (also fuck you dad, five years in LA and not homeless once)

[sayoneee]

☆ HEATWAVES

it's the middle of summer and everything's so hot, but bachira decides it's his chance to sneak into your room (1k)

contains: bachira meguru x fem! reader. possibly ooc bachira (first time writing for him). no mentions of blue lock. ambiguous relationship. not proofread

kashaf’s note: this is very very very indulgent.

“MEGURU? WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” you asked, swiftly sitting up from your sprawled position on your bed, your phone forgotten and abandoned on your sheets as a random tiktok audio looped in the background. propping yourself up against one of the pillows tossed haphazardly across your bed, you watched with a mixture of amusement as he stepped into your room, with a care that he usually lacked, kicking off his converse in the corner and closing your window behind him with a soft click. 

the summer heat had turned your room into an inferno, and you felt as if you were in your own personal circle of hell. the stifling heat clung to your skin, heavy and suffocating, like an unwanted embrace. beads of sweat had formed on your skin, and your hair stuck to your forehead in damp tendrils, despite the air conditioning being on full blast for the past hour. 

bachira grinned, filled with a promise of cool relief, eyes lighting up as they locked on you, a man who had stumbled upon an oasis in the desert, “i missed you?” he offered, running a hand through his hair. 

you rolled your eyes, folding your arms across your chest, a  mockingly reserved posture, thinly veiling your shared enthusiasm at the sight of him, “more like you missed my ac.”

stepping closer, bachira wiped at the sweat glistening to his forehead, grin still in place, “i heard through the grapevine that your room was cold.” the reference to that one south park episode you had watched the first time you had been over at his house causes a carousel of memories—of his cold hands and shy smile in the dark of his room—to float to the forefront of your mind. 

an exasperated groan escaped your lips, accompanied by a melodramatic flop backward onto your bed, “it’s literally a sauna in here, and i can’t even open the window, only hot air will come in,” you paused, “what’s your excuse for being here?”

“decided to brave the heatwave, babe,” he winked, taking a seat on the chair positioned in front of your bed. 

“how aren’t you feeling hot right now—do you ever feel hot?” you twisted onto your side, looking at him critically as he played with the old teddy bear he had won for you set on your desk. 

“only when i’m around you, baby,” bachira grins, proud of himself for drawing out a smile from you at the cringey line. 

“you’re literally impossible,” you smiled, playing with the edges of the blanket folded at the end of your bed. 

bachira’s retort is delivered with confidence, his self-assured grin never wavering, “you love me though.”

choosing not to provide him with the satisfaction of a direct answer, you grabbed a pillow from your side and sent it sailing toward him, a playful non-answer. bachira retaliated with equal enthusiasm, and before you knew it, the two of you were immersed in an intense pillow fight. laughter bubbled forth with each pillow thrown, the tension of the stifling heat momentarily forgotten.

out of nowhere, bachira launched himself at you, his weight toppling you backward onto the mattress. his breath ghosted warmly against your ear, the proximity sending shivers down your spine, "c’mon, pretty, tell me you missed me too."

amid the laughter and mock struggles, your response tumbled out, a concession laced with mirth, "maybe a little." your resistance waned as he pinned your hands above your head, your defeated state bringing an end to the wrestling, "meguru, you're actually gonna get me in trouble."

his laughter enveloped the room, a sound almost as familiar as the call of your own name, “getting into trouble can’t be that bad.”

you met his gaze, unimpressed by his nonchalance, your tone borderline childish, “i won’t be able to see you for like ever.”

“okay, nevermind, it is that bad,” bachira conceded, smiling. his eyes lit up, a tell-tale sign of when he had another bright idea; almost on a separate plane of thought entirely, he suggested, “let’s go to the roof.’

you raised your eyebrows at him, regarding his expression skeptically, “will you be quieter on the roof—so we don’t get caught?”

ignoring your question, bachira grinned, his fingers brushing away the damp strands of hair clinging to your forehead. in a quick moment, he surged to his feet, suddenly standing up and extending his hand toward you, “c’mon, last one there has to give the winner whatever they want.”

used to bachira’s antics, a competitive spark ignited within you, and a grin tugs at your lips, “you’re so on.” wasting no time, with unyielding determination, you shoved past his outstretched hand and propelled yourself out your window. 

bachira was quick to follow, overtaking you with ease, his movements marked by a fluidity only years of soccer training could develop, giving him an edge over you. his laughter followed you, and when in one moment you were in the lead, in the next, you found yourself trying futilely to catch up to him. 

upon joining him on the rooftop, bachira immediately drew you into his side, an arm encircling your shoulder as the cool night breeze danced around you. “i won,” he declared, a triumphant grin illuminating his features endearingly. it’s hard not to smile back, not when he’s looking at you like that. you burrowed closer into his side as he decided on his prize. 

you didn’t have to wait long, however, as he suddenly leaned closer, the mischievous glint dancing in his eyes reminding you of fireflies and your shared childhood, he demanded, “i want a kiss.”

bachira closed his eyes, waiting for you to make your move, and you, gathering your courage—embarrassed at his ability to make you concede so easily—swiftly pressed your lips to his cheek in a fleeting caress, the moment disappearing as quick as it had occurred. 

he opened his eyes, grin still intact, “not what i meant, pretty, but i’ll take it.”

© sayoneee on tumblr. do not repost, translate, plagiarize or claim any of my works as your own.

[kebriones]

Field diary.

We have a mole digging bis ass molehills the past 2 days at the field. My dad is worried it will destroy his ficus. Paris the cat has made it his life purpose to monitor these molehills (but failed spectacularly to catch the mole yesterday) whenever he's not sleeping (so about 2 hours a day.). Yesterday Paris had a huge argument with a strange male cat twice his size. Then two other huge strange males showed up and he decided it wasn't worth the trouble so he sat in his box in the yard and ignored them. Typical Paris behavior. He's very sweet and extremely dumb. He is afraid of fallen leaves and must investigate anything that looks like a snake. He climbs but then gets stuck on the grapevine and cries when he doesn't know how to get down. He likes sleeping directly in front of doorways and I almost stepped directly on him this morning.

[here4tripitaka]

Chapter 56: Tripitaka gets mugged; Tripitaka and Wukong have a blue

In this chapter, rather refreshingly, nobody wants to eat or have sex with Tripitaka. No. In this chapter, Tripitaka has the equally disastrous but rather more mundane experience of getting mugged.

Yep. Not realising who he is, some run-of-the-mill local bandits try to mug him, just like they would any other guy on the road. How’s that for equality?

It also goes to show how important it is to be in the know. If only they’d realised who he was, they could have eaten or sexed him and gained immortality. Clearly word doesn’t travel as fast on the human grapevine as the demonic grapevine. You’ve got to pay more attention to who’s been reincarnated recently, lads.

Anyway. I’m loving Bajie and Wukong’s dynamic in this chapter. They’re just two guys joking around, having fun and annoying each other for shits and giggles. Bajie is trying to hurry up Dragon Horse - who doesn’t care, and keeps plodding along at the same speed. Wukong rebukes Bajie, but then decides Bajie has a good point about hurrying up, and sends Dragon Horse sprinting. Owned, Bajie.

These hijinks lead to Tripitaka being galloped way up the road, all on his lonesome, where he is surrounded by bandits who want to mug him:

Pardon me. Not mug him. They are… self-appointed… tollway men:

They take payment in the form of clothes, horses and gold. And they don’t give concession rates to monks. Failure to pay may result in detention up a tree until one of your mates can come up with the money.

Now, what did I say about Tripitaka being better when Wukong isn’t around? There are no tears here: Tripitaka handles it like a pro. Sort of. He explains that, as a monk, he’s not exactly their best bet if they’re looking for sweet cash money. When they demand his clothes and horse instead, he just calmly explains that his robes aren’t worth stealing. He also implicitly threatens them that they’ll get a bad incarnation if they’re mean to him:

I love this little backgrounder about how the robes are made. It seems like the patchwork thing is a true story. Apparently, traditionally:

“Jiasha are made by piecing together sections of cloth donated from members of the community in a patchwork-style design. Unlike patchwork, the arrangement of panels is very specific, influenced by the Buddhist mandala motif, with a core center and flowing symmetry. The modest cut of the jiasha and pieced-together appearance references the rags worn by the Buddha during his ascetic period.”

Anyway, the muggers slash tollway men still aren’t impressed, so Tripitaka starts lying and pretending that Wukong will turn up any minute with the cash they want. That’s fine, but the narrator has a mega brain fade:

What? “Never lied in his life before”? Uh, remember two chapters ago, when Tripitaka was swearing to love and cherish the queen of Woman State til death do they part? Yeah. That little thing.

In any event, this is where Tripitaka begins crying. Well, fair enough. He did really try. The bandits tie him up and leave him dangling from a tree, where Wukong finds him.

I have to say, I love Wukong’s personality in this chapter, dubious as it may be. He’s so jovial:

I love him trolling the bandits, channelling pretend spirituality:

… before sweetly telling them that perhaps they should actually give him THEIR money:

And playing with the bandits - telling them they can have his staff if they can pick it up:

Ah, the iconic needle/staff in the ear:

But I’m interrupting myself:

Wukong is having a blast. Needless to say, he kills a few bandits. The rest flee.

Tripitaka proceeds to absolutely lose his marbles about Wukong committing homicide. And don’t get me wrong: it’s homicide. But Tripitaka manages to do it in a way that makes him come off as a jerk - which is quite something, when you’re protesting homicide.

When he discovers what’s happened, Tripitaka loses all spiritual composure. He starts acting like a road rager stuck in peak hour traffic, muttering low-grade verbal abuse:

Wukong isn’t even in earshot at this point. When he does get within earshot, Tripitaka continues:

Spite? That doesn’t sound very spiritual!

He attempts to give the bandits a proper burial, which seems nice at first. He gets Bajie to bury them, and tries to find incense and candles for the ritual - or substitutes, at least. But once he starts praying, it becomes clear what his real motives are. All he wants to do is suck up to the deceased, point the finger at Wukong, and make sure no ghosts come seeking retribution against him. It’s totally self-centred and fear-driven - not coming from a genuine place of caring for the deceased at all:

There is more to his prayer, and… it isn’t great, either. It’s just him telling the bandits that he, Tripitaka, tried to play nice (so it’s their own fault they got killed); that their deaths are Wukong’s fault (not his); and that he’s been very nice to them by doing this funeral ritual (ie he didn’t perform this funeral for selfless reasons: he did it so they will give him credit).

He could at least have wished them a positive reincarnation. Or something, anything, that was purely for their sake and not for his. Alas! Our young Tripitaka still has a way to go, spiritually.

Bajie sees through Tripitaka’s pseudo-spirituality, and teases him:

Wukong is less amused. He seems to find the ass-kissing funeral schtick ridiculous and kind of cowardly. Wukong isn’t afraid of any ghosts coming after him and makes this clear - perhaps more to make a point to Tripitaka than anything else:

Next, they find shelter at an old couple’s hut. The old man is nearly hysterical at the sight of the disciples, and won’t calm down. His wife is far more grounded, and gets him back on track.

I love how blunt people are about Bajie’s looks, and how indomitably cheerful Bajie’s response is:

They all have dinner, during which they find out that the old couple’s son is one of the bandits. Wukong offers to kill the son (huh?!), but the old man prefers him to stay alive, so he’ll have someone to dig his grave one day. The disciples gently remind Wukong that it’s none of his business.

Let’s cut to the middle of the night, where the bandits gatecrash the old couple’s house and decide to kill Tripitaka & co in their sleep. The old man tips them off.

I want to pause here to observe how bizarrely calm and composed the old man is. This is a guy who became hysterically scared just looking at the disciples’ faces. Now he’s in a tense and unexpected emergency situation, trying to sneak one group of guests out of the house, lest his other guests murder them. Yet he acts like it’s nothing. Is this not the first time that his bandit son has tried to murder a houseguest? Tripitaka is shaken by the news, but the old man sneaks them out and falls back asleep without a second thought:

Of course, the bandits give chase, and Wukong kills many. He goes out of his way to identify and behead the son of the old man - then show off the head to Tripitaka. 

Why Wukong would do this, I have no idea. Is this meant to indicate something about Confucianism? Or is it just Wukong’s usual love of homicide? I feel like I might be missing some cultural context.

Tripitaka falls off his horse in fright, yells at Wukong and, as soon as he’s able to stand again, breaks out the band-tightening spell on him. This, to me, is where Tripitaka crosses the line. It’s like he’s performing the Cruciatus Curse:

More than ten times? It's awful.

Now, just a heads up. I was VERY upset that Tripitaka did this, and I wrote a lot about it. But I realise we all have different perspectives. So if you don’t feel like reading a giant essay about why I felt this was so bad, here is a pretty picture of a traditional jiasha for you, and let’s pick up again next week.

Alright, brave reader. Here’s my reaction to Tripitaka’s torture spree.

I’m not saying that it’s inherently wrong to punish somebody for homicide with something along these lines. It would be a very different story if Trikitapa had taken time out, reflected on the whole thing, and soberly decided that it was necessary to do this as a punishment. But it just seems like he’s lost his temper and lashed out.

I think I’m more annoyed with Tripitaka than Wukong, because Wukong has never pretended to be anything other than a fighter and killer. Tripitaka acts like butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth and preaches compassion. Wukong didn’t want to become Buddhist and has only done it under duress. Tripitaka may not have chosen to become Buddhist originally, but he seems to have embraced it pretty enthusiastically. Wukong’s job is to keep Tripitaka alive on the road, so Tripitaka can get to the west - and Wukong is well and truly doing that job, even if Tripitaka doesn’t like the way that he’s doing it.

It’s easy to criticise others and backseat drive. Tripitaka is expecting Wukong to be both a consummate fighter and spiritually precise. Maybe, for Wukong to be the fearless fighter that he is, he needs a certain level of callousness. Wukong goes into situations that nobody else will - again and again. Who says it’s so easy for him to be proportionate when he’s fighting? It’s not always possible to be in two different gears at once. Tripitaka is all too ready to criticise and demand, without ever having walked a mile in Wukong’s shoes.

And Tripitaka seems to expect more of Wukong than Tripitaka expects of himself. Tripitaka hasn’t even tried to learn self-defence. He has not tried to become more well-rounded. Yet he tortures Wukong because, in his eyes, Wukong is not perfect enough or sufficiently well-rounded. I think Tripitaka should have to try to learn the 72 forms himself before he gets to even THINK about using torture on Wukong.

I never expected to find myself defending a killer - even a fictional magic monkey killer. Let me be very clear, I condemn homicide completely. I’m just saying, I think Tripitaka is a prick to use torture here. It was different when he used the band-tightening spell to try to prevent Wukong from killing somebody. That’s fair enough. But using it to lash out is inexcusable.

And it’s totally hypocritical. Tripitaka claims that he’s trying to teach Wukong compassion. It’s like he’s saying, “So help me God, I’ll beat you until you’re more compassionate.” How is that meant to work?

It disturbs me on the level of allegory, too. Like, if Wukong represents the mind-heart, what is this saying? That the mind-heart has to be dominated through force and brutality? Really?

After the band-tightening spell, Wukong begs Tripitaka to use his words, and Tripitaka obliges - saying he doesn’t want Tripitaka as his disciple.

Horrifyingly, Wukong kowtows to the guy who just went full Voldemort on him. I’m gonna say that kowtowing to someone who just tortured you seems like an excess of filial piety. But at least Wukong isn’t getting violent with Tripitaka like Tripitaka just got violent with him.

He begs for an explanation. This is pretty staggering. As wrong as it is for Tripitaka to use the band-tightening spell like this, it should be obvious to Wukong why he’s angry. Wukong clearly hasn’t listened to a word Tripitaka said, and he is a massive jerk for that.

Tripitaka explains (unsurprisingly) that it’s due to all the unnecessary killing, and tells him to get going before he uses the band-tightening spell again. Wukong vanishes.

Oof. Well, that was all very unpleasant. But I certainly want to see how this turns out next week.

@journeythroughjourneytothewest

---

Image credits: The usual spiel. The images above are either AI, or random pictures from the web that I’ve modified, or a Frankenstein of both. They are not original. The AI image generation is by Stable Diffusion. The pre-existing images should turn up with reverse googling, but feel free to ask and I’ll dig up sources.

[seungkwansphd]

i look good on you

pairing: producer!woozi x producer!YN word count: 965 synopsis: it's been months since you and woozi broke up, surrounded by a series of strange circumstances, but you haven't stopped thinking of each other and it shows. themes: exes to reconciliation, angst-lite, i stan poppi she's a laugh riot. lyrics borrowed from paper - kenzie and deny - monsta x.

a/n: i promise i'm working on 'room for interpretation', but that ad for 'paper' keeps popping up while i watch abbot elementary and it's stuck in my head.

“Hey Poppi, one sec?” you pulled your headphones off and walked into the recording booth.

“Sorry, it’s not right is it?” the singer looked up at you apologetically.

“Hey, you’re okay!” you smiled encouragingly at the young singer. “You sound great, it’s just…this song is about longing for someone that you aren’t with anymore. It should be more…heartbreaking.”

“I’ve never experienced that before,” she shrugged, making a funny face at you.

“Hmm,” you nodded, trying to think of how to describe the tone you were after.

“She looks good on paper, but I look good on you”

You sang briefly for her, stretching the syllables out in a slightly exaggerated fashion.

“A little more strain on the vocals. Like your voice is about to break, but you’re managing to keep it together.”

You nodded enthusiastically as she tried again. Much better.

…

You smiled happily as you watched another clip of Poppi’s interview. The song you’d produced for her had really taken off and she'd been doing such a good job with all of the press. For such a fresh new talent, you were really impressed with her and hoped to work with her again.

…

“Oh oh oh! Here it is! YN’s new song!” Hoshi screamed excitedly when the ad came on.

Jihoon’s head turned automatically at the sound of your name. Even though it’d been months since you’d broken up, he still couldn’t seem to help himself. He had been trying his best not to keep tabs on you, but he had heard through the grapevine that you’d been working with Poppi on their new album. He hadn’t had the heart to listen to it yet, but he was happy to see the success that she'd been having.

When the song came to an end, all eyes were on him.

“What?” he asked gruffly.

“Did you hear that?” Hoshi screamed. “Were you listening to the lyrics?”

“What?” Jihoon’s brow furrowed. Truth be told, he’d been too wrapped up in his own thoughts to really digest the lyrics.

“Hold on actually,” Hoshi started typing furiously on his phone. He brought his hand to his mouth dramatically. “We’re gonna leave because you need to listen to this. Alone.”

Jihoon did nothing to stop them, because he liked being alone more than most things. It was probably an hour more before he caved and played Poppi’s new song on his speakers.

‘My friends saw you with her

Then I saw the pictures’

Jihoon’s heart stopped.

‘No one moves on that fast’

He leaned back in his chair and pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes, thinking furiously. He tried to line up dates in his head. No.

He wanted to call you. Explain the situation because he now understood how it would have looked from your perspective, but what the hell could he even say?

“Sorry YN, the members all coordinated shenanigans that week because Vernon was having a dating scandal?”

Somehow he didn’t think that would cut it.

…

Your eyebrows raised as you read the headline. ‘Fans react to Producer Woozi dropping a surprise track’. You burned with curiosity, but it would have to wait until later. Today you were recording with Poppi again. Her label had been so pleased with the success of Paper that they’d contracted you for two more songs.

“YN YN!” she burst into the studio unceremoniously, holding her phone out at you. “We need to listen to Woozi’s new song!”

“I-,”

“Right now, no negotiation! This is part of my creative process!” she barreled past you.

You didn’t put up a fight as you were itching to hear the song as well. You tried to avoid Poppi’s gaze and focus on the lyrics, but her eyes burned into you so you had to turn away from her halfway through. When it ended, you were silent.

“I’m going to start yelling,” she announced, giving you fair warning.

“Sleep won't come, you're depicted on the ceiling?!”

“I'm left with these feelings, and why is your old space so dark?”

She continued to shout lyrics at you until she ran out of notable ones and started again at the beginning.

“I think this song is about you!”

“Why would you think that?” you narrowed your eyes at her.

“I’m on stan Twitter! I know you and Woozi dated secretly. And then you broke up. And then Dispatch posted pictures of him with some other person. And then you wrote Paper. And then he just dropped this?”

You almost burst out laughing. The way Poppi was rattling off her thoughts felt very much like that ‘Conspiracy Theory Charlie Day’ meme. You were amazed, fans really had a way of sleuthing out the truth. If only there was some way to harness that energy to solve crimes.

“You should talk to him. Something seemed off about those Dispatch photos. The timing was so close to Vernon’s little dating scandal. Hoshi’s thing with Soohyuk too. Personally I think it was all a ruse to distract.”

You rolled your eyes playfully at her. This was getting a little ‘The Moon Landing was Fake’ for you, so you redirected her focus to the demo track. She urged you again, at the end of your session, to message him before giving you a hug.

[yn]: ‘hey. heard the new song, it’s really good.’

You jumped when your phone started ringing moments later.

“Hello?”

“Hey,” Jihoon’s gravelly voice came through.

Your heart twisted in your chest. It had been so long since you’d heard his voice and yet it felt familiar as if no time had passed. You’d been doing your best to ignore this feeling…move on, but you missed him.

“Can we talk?” he brought you back to the present.

“...yeah. Yeah, we can.”

[cleoluvrr]

The Last Days of Summer XII (Rafe Cameron x Heyward!OC)

Warnings: violence, underage drinking, drug use, verbal abuse, jealousy, forbidden relationship, enemies to lovers, gaslighting + manipulation

Synopsis: Stuck in a situation she never dreamed of, Neriah Heyward blurs the line between Kook and Pogue; Rafe Cameron a witness.

masterlist

word count: 5.2k+

↠━ღ◆ღ━↞

I didn’t take it seriously until I came home from school two days later to see a dark truck parked outside my house and Rafe Cameron patiently waiting outside my house.

I stopped in my tracks and looked around the street. The street is only filled with adults, everyone my age still in school. I’m lucky my schedule ends earlier than everyone else’s for the first time in this moment. He watches as I slowly approach him, a look of amusement tickling his face. He’s leaning against the side of my house, arms crossed and looking very out of place in my neighborhood.

“Why are you here?” I ask. I don’t make direct contact with him, brushing past him to unlock the back door.

“Hello to you, too.” He says. “I told you I would see you.”

I pushed him into the house, looking around outside to make sure nobody saw us. I follow him in when the coast is clear and shut the door behind me. My parents were both out on Figure 8 doing work for the next couple of hours luckily, and while I have no idea where Pope is, it’s not here.

“You can’t just show up outside my house, Rafe. Someone could see.”

“I thought you weren’t going to lie about us?” He follows me down the hall to my bedroom, footsteps echoing on the hardwood flooring.

“I’m not, but my parents wouldn’t exactly approve of you being here either.” I close the door to my room when we’re both inside. I lean my back against it, watching as the blonde peruses around the small space.

I did tell my parents about us after my confrontation with Pope, mostly out of guilt but also because they deserved to know.

My mom was surprised by my choice in significant other but she was supportive, telling me that it was up to me to make smart decisions and that she’ll always be there if I need advice. My father, in typical dad fashion, did not approve. He knew of Rafe’s behavior through his time working for Ward, and I assume through the grapevine as well. 

It took a lot of convincing for him to not go up to Figure 8 and beat the boy’s car in with the communal bat sitting behind the cash register.

Mom said that he would loosen up eventually, that he was just being protective of his daughter and having a difficult time accepting that I’m growing up. While it took everything in him to say it, Heyward trusted me to be responsible and know what is and isn’t not okay.

Rafe being in my house right now is an example of what is not okay.

Rafe sits down on my bed, eyes watching me closely from his seat. He looks like he’s holding himself back from saying something, visibly biting his tongue.

“Are you embarrassed?” He finally says and I furrow my eyebrows in confusion.

“What?”

“Are you embarrassed to be with me?” He asks again.

I shake my head softly, pushing off the door and walking towards him. His pupils look blown just a little and he sniffs before wiping at his nose with his pointer finger. I huff, stepping back again and observing him with irritation surging through my body.

“Are you high right now?” I cross my arms at him, tilting my head in question. He scoffs and rolls his eyes in response. “Rafe, are you fucking high?”

“Why are you avoiding my question?” He shoots back instead of answering my own.

I scoff in a similar manner as him, shaking my head in disbelief. My tongue pokes at my top lip, teeth grazing against the muscle as I stare down at the blonde-haired man seated on my fresh comforter.

He shows up to my house, uninvited and under the influence, and wants to start an argument with me. I shouldn’t even acknowledge it, I should tell him to go home, but I’m far too annoyed to be the bigger person between the two of us.

“You know what, yeah, maybe I am a little embarrassed.”  I admit. Rafe’s eyebrows shoot up into his hairline as if he can’t believe the words that have just left my mouth. “But can you blame me?”

The thought has been eating away at the back of my brain for weeks no matter how much I try to push it down. I hide my phone when my friends are around in case he calls or texts. I can’t wear the necklace he gifted me freely without worrying about being asked questions. He parked outside my house, and I had to pretend I didn’t see him just in case someone was watching and told my parents. I like to pretend I don’t feel this way, but it’s nearly impossible, especially when he shows up to my house on drugs after he said he would get clean.

��I’m an embarrassment to you? I haven’t done anything to deserve that label.” He says defensively.

“Rafe, I didn’t call you an embarrassment. I said I feel embarrassed.”

I almost regret saying it at all when a look of hurt and anger falls upon his face, but my irritation got the best of me, and I refuse to backtrack on my words. 

“What the fuck is the difference?” He yells, throwing his hands up in the air.

“You don’t have the best reputation.” I point out the obvious and for some reason that only makes him more irate. “Not to mention the fact that you showed up to my house in the middle of the day, uninvited and on whatever it is you take these days.”

“I’m not on anything!” Rafe says. I laugh dryly at this.

His pupils are so big that you can barely see the blue ring of his iris around it and I can practically read his emotions like a book, something I find hard to do when he’s sober. My eyes drop down to his nose, the smallest amount of white dust lingering on the side of his nose.

“Oh, so I’m hallucinating? That’s not cocaine under your nose?” I take my thumb and wipe at his nostrils, the residue smooth between the pads of my fingers. “Have you gotten into something new?”

“I’m not fucking high, Neriah…” He mumbles and I shake my head.

“Rafe, this… No.” I wave my hand at him, stepping away. I point towards my closed door with the same finger I used to wipe away the powder. “You gotta go. Now. I’m not doing this with you.”

“Not doing what?” He doesn’t make any movement towards the exit, his body stiff on the soft bed as he watches me with wide eyes, questioning eyes. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“This.” I gesture between the two of us rapidly. “I’m not doing this. You just pissed me off and now you need to leave.”

“You’re overreacting.”

“Overreacting? I’m not overreacting!” I walk towards the door and yank it open to reveal the empty hallway. “You told me you were going to do better, but you showed up to my house on fucking drugs. So now you need to go.”

“Wow…” He still doesn’t move from his spot on my bed. He looks offended at my words, jabbing at the inside of his cheek with his tongue. “You’re giving up on me already?”

“Rafe-”

“Did you even give me a chance?” He says, cutting me off. “I haven’t exactly been having an easy time, y’know.”

“I understand that, but-” He cuts me off again, laughing humorlessly as he shakes his head.

“You understand? You understand?” He repeats my words like it’s the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard. “My dad just fucking killed himself, Neriah! I don’t think you understand.”

I sigh and shut my door again, running a hand over my face stressfully. I approach Rafe’s figure on my bed again, standing in front of him tensely. His eyes are swirling with anger and sadness, but I’m not sure if it’s directed at me or his family situation.

“The last memory he had of me is me being a failure. Do you know what that feels like?” His voice is hard,and I can tell he’s trying not to cry in front of me. “All I tried to do was protect him, to make him proud. I lost my dad, Neriah.”

“Rafe…”

“And Cameron Development is in the shithole right now. We’re in debt and Rose has no idea what the fuck she’s doing.” He chuckles humorlessly, head falling into his open palms. “I have to do everything myself to try to keep this family together, and Sarah isn’t any fucking help. I’m sorry that I use drugs to cope sometimes, Neriah.”

“It’s okay…” I say hesitantly, not sure if that’s the right thing to say to him right now.

“No, it’s not okay.” He shakes his head, raising it to look up at me with teary, dark eyes. “I came here to see my girlfriend because that’s what makes me feel better, and she doesn't want anything to do with me. But can I really blame her? I used to treat her like shit because I was too much of a coward to admit how I really felt.” 

I blink at the use of my own words from earlier, the sound of phrase making me frown. Rafe gauges my reaction as we watch each other silently in my room. 

Am I being too hard on him? I’ve never gone through something like he has before. Sure, I’ve struggled some, but I still have my family. My dad has never berated me or put his hands on me. I’ve seen his face littered in bruises plenty of times before, when he would come to the club or random kook parties and get drunk off his ass. His real mom is gone, and his sister is too. I still have my brother, and that same brother is running around with his sister getting into God knows what.

He was arrested for a crime he didn't commit just a week ago, willing to take the blame to protect his father; to prove himself to him. All that just for his dad to be taken away from him anyways. 

I’m not an idiot, I know none of these things are an excuse for him to show up to my house high. It’s not an excuse for the way he’s treated me just a month ago, but I can help but to feel for him. He’s troubled, and my heart aches seeing him try his best for me.

“Rafe, I’m sorry.” I say. I stand between his spread legs, reaching forward to push his hair out of his eyes. The scene feels familiar, the two of us in this same position when he brought me to that empty house and asked me for a chance. “You’re right, I don’t understand. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“No, you shouldn’t have.” 

“I just…” I sigh heavily, pausing the raking of my fingers through his blonde locks. “Maybe we’re moving too fast.”

His head snaps up so fast that I flinch, the movement startling me. He grabs my hips, the heat of his hands seeping through the thick fabric of my uniform. His eye twitches at my words and he squints at me.

“What are you talking about?”

“This is just a lot, Rafe.” I worry my bottom lip with my teeth, the skin victimized by my canines once again. “I feel like…maybe I shouldn’t have agreed to this so easily.”

I think back to Midsummers, when he first confessed to me.

The moment felt so unreal I thought I had imagined it until I saw the bruises the next morning. I think back the first night in the car. I think that I wanted to say yes to him, but it was also hard to tell after being chased down like a bunny running from a fox. It was hard to think when his hands were on me, the feeling of his skin on mine and the adrenaline from the chase fogging up any coherent thoughts running through my brain.

The day in the house, when he broke down in front of me. How could I say no to him when he was like that? He was being so open with me about his troubles and all I could feel was my heart aching for the boy that wanted nothing but his father’s validation. I think I wanted to say yes then too, but I don’t think I would have been able to say anything else in that moment either. Not when he was like that.

I won’t say that I regret my decision, maybe giving him a chance will be a good idea in the long run. But I don’t know if I would have made that decision had I not been put into these positions. 

“What are you trying to say?” His voice is as sharp as a knife, slicing through the air as it reaches my ears.

“When you brought me to that house, and you were beating yourself up…” I start. He watches me closely, the hands squeezing me tightly only making my thoughts more jumbled. “I just feel like I was pressured into saying yes, and maybe I should’ve thought about it more?”

“You feel like I was pressuring you?”

“You were crying so much, and you were saying terrible things about yourself. I just feel like I didn't know what else to say. I would’ve felt bad if I said no while you were like that.”

“Did you feel pressured, or do you feel guilty?” His tone is accusatory, and my frown deepens. “It’s not my fault that you felt bad for me. I’m sorry that I was choosing to be vulnerable with you, I’ll make sure I never do that again.”

“No, Rafe-” I stop myself abruptly, exhaling loudly through my mouth. 

“You only said yes because you pity me, is that what you’re trying to say?” He pulls his hands away from me and pushes mine off his head.

I did pity him, how could I not? But is that the only reason why I said yes?

I couldn’t even answer that myself; not right now.

“No!”

“Then what are you trying to say? I poured my heart out to you because I trust you and wanted to be honest with you about my feelings and you tell me that you only said yes to shut me up!” He pushes me away from him and shoots up from the bed. I don’t move, feet planted firmly on the ground as I look up at him.

What am I trying to say? I sound like an asshole right now, blaming him for my own second thoughts. It feels like every time we talk my thoughts get so jumbled together that I can’t even understand what I’m trying to say myself. How can I expect someone else to understand?

At the same time, I feel like I’m being very clear about how I feel. How am I supposed to react when I’m put into a situation like that? I wanted to say yes, at least I think I did, but who knows what would’ve happened if I said no? What if he hurt himself? What if he hurt me?

I frown at the thought, dropping my eyes to the ground.

Would he hurt me? He’s never done it before, not unprovoked at least. The one time it did happen was an accident, and he’s made it very clear how bad he feels about it. He’s said nasty things to me before, but it’s never been a one-sided offense. He’s never done anything to me that I haven’t done back, so what room do I have to judge him?

Maybe I should have thought more about our situation before saying yes, because I don’t even have a clear thought about us anymore. Not that I ever have.

“I’m just saying that maybe…” I raise my eyes back up to meet his hardened face. “Maybe we jumped into this too fast. Maybe we should have waited until things were clear between us because I just feel very confused and overwhelmed.”

“I’ve been waiting for four years, Neriah, I’m not waiting anymore. I’m not letting you go.” He says. “What are you confused about?”

“I don’t know how I feel about you; I’m going to be completely honest.” He doesn’t say anything, the air of my room filled with silence for what feels like forever. Hurt flashes in his eyes for a second but it’s gone before I can blink.

“Do you like me?” He speaks finally, his voice flat.

“Yes…”

“Does your heart beat really fast when I talk to you like mine does with you?” He reaches his hand up and places it flat on my chest above my heart.

The muscle jumps when he does it and I almost believe that he can feel it too. His thumb moves to the hollow of my neck, feeling my pulse beat rapidly against the finger. He smiles, moving his thumb to brush against my collar bone.

“Yes. Rafe…” How did I end up in this position again? 

His hand moves lower, palm brushing over my breasts and landing on my stomach. I shiver at the contact, lungs contracting from the heat radiating through my shirt. The hand snakes around my body and lands on the small of my back. He pulls me closer to him roughly, our bodies pressed together in the middle of my room.

“Does it feel good when I hold you close to me like this?”

“...Yes.” I answer breathlessly. He smiles softly, bringing his other hand up to play with the necklace sitting heavy on my chest. 

This. This is what makes it hard for me to say anything but yes to him.

My skin burns hotter the longer his touch lingers, thoughts tangling together into a mess that I couldn't begin to pull apart as his fingers brush over my skin so faintly. The fog that fills my mind slowly takes up the space where my brain should be, and I find it difficult to remember why I was even upset with him in the first place.

“Then what is there to be confused about?” He asks, tearing his blue eyes away from the jewelry to stare into my brown ones. “You think too much, princess. I know you’re smart but leave that to me.”

I don’t remember how the conversation even turned into this. I was ready to kick him out not even ten minutes ago and now here I am, putty in his hands and unable to come up with a reason to pull away from him.

“Yeah. Maybe I’m just overthinking everything…” I say quietly, shaking my head.

“You were mine a long time ago, I’m just glad you finally realized it.”

I blink slowly at that, not really sure how to respond.

“What?” 

“Why aren’t you packed?” He doesn’t answer my question, quickly changing the subject. “I thought I told you to be ready?”

He pulls away from me and walks towards the corner of my bedroom where I store my clothes. I follow behind him, watching as he opens my closet and stares into the dark abyss that is stuffed to the brim with my wardrobe.

“Packed for what?”

“The mainland. Didn’t we talk about this already?” He says as he digs through the rack of random dresses and shirts. “Why are your clothes color coded?”

“‘Cause that’s how I like them.” I pull him away from the closet to face me again. “Rafe, I never said I was going.”

“Why not?” He whines and I’m almost sure he’d stomp his foot on the ground if he were ten years younger. “You said you’d think about it.”

“Yes, I did.” I nod my head in confirmation. “And I’m not going. Don’t try to convince me either because that’s my final decision.”

He sighs heavily, a sound of dissatisfaction leaving his throat at my answer. He moves me out of the way and starts going through my wardrobe again, pulling out clothes and throwing them onto my bed. I watch the pile of fabric grow as he adds to it, humming as he examines each piece.

“Did you not hear what I just said?” He hums but doesn’t show any other form of acknowledgement, still going through my closet. “I said I’m not going. Get out of my stuff.”

“I heard you.” He moves to start going through my drawers and that’s when I stop him.

“Rafe.” I block his path, leaning against my dresser to restrict his access. “Stop. What are you doing?”

“How about we compromise?” He says. I squint at him in confusion. Compromise?

“Compromise on what? I’m not going to the mainland on last minute’s notice.”

“I know. But I would like to spend time with my girl after going an entire week without contact.” He nods his head as he speaks and my heart flutters at being called his girl.

“We’ve spoken plenty since then and you are spending time with me right now?”

“Alone time.” He specifies, putting emphasis on the alone. 

“Are we not alone right now?” He huffs at my response, hand reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“I feel like you’re playing dumb and it’s really irritating me.”

“I’m just not sure how we’re supposed to compromise on me going to Charlotte with you when I just said I won’t.” I shrug and look at him for an answer. He sighs and reaches up to play with one of my braids, twirling the end around his finger before dropping it.

“We can go to one of my family’s properties for the weekend…” He says. His hand snakes around my waist again and pulls me flush against him. His eyes are mischievous as they stare down into my own unimpressed ones. “We don’t have to deal with any adults, it’ll just be us.”

“Aren’t you an adult?” I say playfully. He frowns at me.

“Don’t say it like that.” He was technically an adult, nineteen is above the age in this country.

I myself am one, despite how my parents treat me, their choice to keep me out of kindergarten for an extra year resulting in me being one of the older students in my grade. Everyone who didn’t know my family well seemed to think I’m the youngest child, the way Pope and my father were both big and scary towards any guy that tried to talk to me.

After some heavy attempts at convincing and not so compelling arguments from Rafe he finally gives up, me standing firm in my decision against it.

He is sitting back down on my bed, eyes hot on my back as he watches me put all my clothes back into the closet that he ripped them out of. I turned on some music to fill the silence, the soft sounds of early-odds RnB traveling through the air as I organized my clothes back into their original state. 

Grabbing a change of clothes I run to the bathroom to switch out of my mildly uncomfortable uniform, leaving him alone in my room against my better judgment. As I make my way back down the hall, I hear the sound of loud voices much too familiar to me approaching the back door of the house.

The two silhouettes of JJ and Pope appear behind the curtain covering the window of the door, the sound of Pope picking out the right key echoing through the thick wood.

“Shit!” I whisper harshly, rushing to get inside my room and lock the door.

“What-”

“Shh!” I cut off Rafe, lunging towards the boy and covering his mouth with my hand. 

I held my hand there for a while, waiting to hear the footsteps and voices to pass my room and enter my brother’s. Rafe looks up at me in confusion, unable to speak with his mouth trapped beneath my palm.

“Pope and JJ are here.” I whisper. The blonde huffs through his nose and rolls his eyes, knocking my hand off his face.

“So?” He doesn’t even try to hide his voice, the syllable bouncing off the wall as he speaks loudly into the air.

“Rafe!” I yell hushedly. “Do you want to get caught?”

He smirks at me mischievously, eyes lighting up when he processes the words that leave my mouth. He grabs my thighs as I stand between his legs, hands trailing up slowly to find their new home on my hips. He pulls me down and sits me on his lap, or rather his knee, adjusting my legs to straddle both sides of his thigh. I make a noise of protest, knees sinking into the soft mattress below us as I steady myself above him. 

“What are you doing?” My voice is quiet, eyes shifting to the closed bedroom door that I forgot to lock in my haste. He grabs my face and turns my head back towards him, jaw trapped beneath his firm fingers.

He leans into me, hand dropping from my face as he presses his lips into mine and swallows my sound of surprise. They are gentle and sweet, and I can smell the mint toothpaste on his breath. His warm hands on my waist rub little circles into the bare skin where my shirt has lifted. I feel my stomach flutter, heart stuttering from the touch. My blood runs hot as it rushes through my veins, body heating up on its own in the cool, air-conditioned house.

He pulls away for a split second, hand reaching up to tug down on my chin and open my mouth slightly before placing his lips back on mine. My breath hitches at the feeling of his tongue gently poking into my mouth and grazing my own, the foreign feeling leaving a deep pit in my stomach. 

He pulls me forward on his lap, causing me to gasp quite loudly at the friction between us.

“Shh.” Rafe silences me, just barely pulling away to whisper against my lips. “Do you want to get caught?” He says mockingly.

He does it again, smug face watching my reaction closely as he grinds my hips down onto him. He keeps doing it, amused by my struggle to keep quiet in the not so empty house. Though my face isn’t more than a few inches away from his, I choose to avoid his intense gaze, looking at the curtained window across the room as I shove the noises fighting to escape back down my throat. The music playing from my speaker manages to hide any sounds that manage to escape my lips.

Rafe leans in to kiss me again, the action soft compared to the rough, slow movements of my hips against his leg. My hands moved up to the back of his head to thread through his hair. I place my hand on his shoulder to brace myself as he pulls me down harder, his thigh tensing as he pulls me down onto it. I pull away from the kiss, unable to focus on keeping the pace and holding back my voice simultaneously.

The blonde's lips move down to my neck instead, leaving gentle, burning kissing on the sensitive skin. One of his hands has moved up to my own hair, tugging my head backwards to gain more access to my throat. He refreshes the fading bruises he left just a few days before, as well as creating new, darker ones as he nips and sucks harshly at the skin.

I start to feel myself become lost in the moment, unable to think about anything except for how his mouth feels on my skin. 

“Yo!” A familiar voice calls out from behind my door. “Neriah are you in there?”

The music also manages to hide the approaching footsteps outside my door. Far too distracted with Rafe’s actions and remaining collected, I completely forget about the two boys just a few yards away in a different room.

“Shit!” I whisper harshly, quickly pushing off of the boy’s lap and jumping to my feet.

Rafe huffs in irritation at being interrupted, grabbing my arm to try to pull me back. I grab him back, arm tightly in my grasp as I pull him off the bed and push him towards my window.

“Neriah?” The voice belongs to JJ and is accompanied by three knocks on the wooden surface separating the three of us. 

“One second!” I say rushedly, opening my window all the way as Rafe stands behind me looking confused. “I’m coming!”

“What are you doing?” Rafe asks as he watches me stick my head out the window to make sure the coast is clear. I push him towards the open frame, frantically gesturing for him to climb out. “You want me to leave?”

“Yo, where’s she at?” Pope’s voice joins JJ on the other side of the door. “Neriah, hurry up!” My brother bangs at my door with the side of his fist, each pounding making my heart jump as I panickedly throw on a hood to cover the red marks on my neck.

“I’m coming! Jesus Christ…” I yelled back. “Rafe you need to go.” I whisper nervously

He looks at me incredulously for a moment, face flushed from our earlier activities. His eyes cut to the door in frustration and irritation, the look in his eyes almost making me believe he could see them directly through the thick wood paneling. With a huff he turns away from me, sticking his long legs through the window reluctantly as he escapes my room.

I wait until he’s out of sight before straightening out my own appearance, tucking the necklace into the collar of my hoodie and using my hair to cover the exposed parts of my neck. I shuffle towards the door, taking a deep breath and fixing my face to look annoyed before yanking it open. Pope’s fist is raised like he was about to bang on it again, the expression he wears similar to my own.

“Can I help you?” I ask sassily, arms folded over each other as I stand in the middle of the door.  Pope looks into my now empty room nosily, eyes glinting with suspicion when they land on mine again.

He interrogates me on what took me so long and why Rafe’s car was outside for what seemed like an eternity. My vague answers were leaving him unsatisfied and JJ more confused as the seconds passed by. I couldn’t give away Rafe’s presence in the house, my brother would surely blow his top again. He eventually gets fed up enough with my non-answers that he rolls his eyes and walks off mumbling something, JJ following close behind him as they exit the house together.

I slam the door shut and lock it behind me, leaping face down into my mattress. The comforter smells of Rafe’s cologne and I breathe in the familiar scent deeply, welcoming the giddy feeling it brings me.

[bmaxwell]

My Soundtrack of Life 3 of 3

fun - The Gambler

About a year later I met my wife. She’s the love of my life, she’s my best friend, it’s sappy and corny as hell and this is our song.  As much as I feel like I’ve squandered a lot of my time and made some poor choices, I won the lottery where love is concerned. I never dreamed it could happen.

It’s called The Gambler because this is why we date people, this is why we find people and fall in love and lose people and experience all the wonder and joy and suffering that comes with putting yourself out there. These are the stakes.

Fun has an authenticity that I am in love with.

Rush - Headlong Flight

This one is a stand-in for every time I’ve been to a concert and there’s that one song, that one moment. There’s almost always a song I didn’t know very well, or didn’t much care for that stands out when I see it live. You Are by Pearl Jam, Over the Electric Grapevine by Primus, Death of a Drag Queen by Sponge, and Ashes in Your Mouth by Megadeth all come immediately to mind.

My most recent example is Headlong Flight from the first time I saw Rush. There’s a short, rapid little guitar buildup near the end of the song. For me, it was one of those moments where I sort of stepped outside of myself and took it all in. I looked at the lights, the crowd around me, and just smiled and savored all the details, just being alive and present at that particular place and time. Not a favorite song going into the show, that moment stuck with me.

Foo Fighters - Over and Out*

Our first child slept through the night on their first day home from the hospital. Out second child did not sleep for more than two hours at a time for his first six months. It was harrowing, being exhausted absolutely always.

At some point in this stretch, I decided to put the Foo Fighters Skin & Bones Live DVD on the TV for the first time. I’m a casual fan of the band at best, so I don’t know most of the songs. This song, however, hit me HARD that first time I heard it. All the stress and exhaustion and worry I’d been carrying around all came pouring out. The chorus of Are you there? Do you read me? Are you there? I don’t feel you anymore. hit especially hard. I could feel the connection with my partner waning as we didn’t have anything left after basic day to day functions and caring for our newborn.

Tom Waits - Time

When you have a newborn that won’t sleep, you get desperate to soothe them. Nothing is off the table. Singing to a baby might not be a stretch for most people but, well, it is for me. I don’t know why I went with this song, but his voice is deep and comforting, and it’s a range I can pull off. 

This became my go-to lullaby song whenever I needed one. 

Steven Wilson Pariah

This song sums up my depression so incredibly well. 

So the day will begin again Take comfort from me It’s up to you now You’re still here and you’ll dig in again That’s comfort to you It’s up to you now

So many days, all I could do was to take solace in the fact that, even if I can’t handle life today, I’ll take another run at it tomorrow. Steven Wilson’s music often makes me feel seen in a way that almost never happens. 

This song brings tears to my eyes not because of what I am going through, but because of what I have gone through. I’m in a better place these days than I had been for many years. Depression is something you manage, not something you cure. And I know that when I have to wrestle with it again, my family and friends will be there for me. I’m still here and I’ll dig in again.

*Seeing Dave and Taylor’s legs tapping in sync in this performance makes me both happy and sad 

[fletchfeathers]

hi hello i received the bat signal from @danniiiyyyl but i had too much to say to fit in a Regular Reply lmao so i hope you don't mind a rebagel! i've dropped my ramblings under a cut just to not clutter folks' dashes too much bc it got Long, but if any fellow transmascs following me wanna chime in gopher it

disclaimer right out the gate that it's been a WHILE since i've done a full-time bind; lockdown really kicked the habit when i wasn't going into an office and being perceived by the general public every day lmao so y'know take this with as much salt as you feel appropriate.

otherwise though i'm just gonna go through and answer your questions as best i can!

Am I supposed to measure myself bare chested?

yep! measuring for a binder is similar to measuring for a bra fitting. you want to be sure you're getting as accurate a size as possible, especially since you say you're looking to bind full-time (or near enough); if you're on the cusp between sizes, go up a size rather than down - which might sound counter-intuitive but trust me, your chest and spine will thank you later. it'll also help your binder last longer since going down a size means you might wind up stretching it out and making it lose its effectiveness a lot quicker.

Are there any brands that I should absolutely steer clear of?

SO gc2b used to be really good, and the binders i have are gc2b ones from a few years ago and have served me well; however i have heard that in recent times their quality has really deteriorated as they've started cutting corners to meet demand, so if you do swing for a gc2b binder you may have better luck trying to get one second-hand if you can. i also don't know that i'd recommend them as far as your next question - they'd be fine if you were just looking for something more occasional but probably wouldn't stand up to wearing them all day every day, at least not without some wear and tear pretty quick.

i'm not sure where you're based, but if you're in the UK i hear on the grapevine that Spectrum are a good option! i haven't tried them personally but i've seen enough people say they're good to at least point you in their direction. if you're not UK-based, i actually hear underworks have really stepped up their game, so they may be worth looking into! again, haven't tried 'em myself, but they're probably where i'd start looking at the very least if you're not in the UK!

Which brands, if any, would be safe to wear for my full work day (8-9hrs)?

this is kiiiind of a tough one, because it's not so much like ... unsafe, it's just that there's potential for a lot of discomfort (short- and long-term) if you're not careful about making sure you've got the right size and such. i would tend not to recommend wearing one for that long without a break if you can help it, and that is from experience from some very sore ribs/back muscles from binding 9 hours a day 5 days a week minimum without a break.

i do fully get though that it's not always feasible to find time to take it off (or at least like, roll it up past your chest a lil bit) so i suppose my recommendation here is just making sure you're taking it off as soon as you get home, and definitely not wearing it to sleep or for any strenuous activities or anything like that (also guilty as charged lmao, do not follow in my footsteps i make these mistakes so you don't have to)

i would also suggest, if the dysphoria allows (bc dysphoria is a bitch and doesn't always, i feel your fuckin pain) - once you have one don't jump straight into wearing it full-time. if you can, wear it for like, an hour at first before taking it off, then two, then three etc. just to get used to it and make sure it's gonna be comfy during those longer stints at work - better to find out it sucks after 2 hours and be in a position to take it off easily than be like, 2 hours into a workday and being stuck with it for another 6-7 hours.

Do any brands specifically account for variances in shape/position of breast tissue? I have never been able to find bras that fit my shape 100% correctly, so this factor is a bit important to me.

so binders work differently from bras, obviously, in that they're more about compression than supporting your chest, so it's gonna be one of those trial-and-error things starting out, a little bit - binders don't take shape really into account, so you'll kind of have to adjust yourself to where it feels the most comfy to begin with.

it takes a bit of patience and practice starting out but the best way i've found is pushing your breasts sort of out to the sides, to around where they would naturally fall when you're lying flat on your back; that usually gives me, at least, both the best compression and the most comfort. your mileage may vary but that's hopefully as good a starting point as any!

also, as far as like, styles starting out: i like the half-tank ones that only cover your chest rather than going all the way down over your stomach (don't worry, the compression on the full-length ones is still only at your chest; the bit that goes over your stomach is stretchy but still tight to the skin) because the full length ones can ride up during the day and feel weird, they're easier to ~adjust if you need, and obvs they're a lot cooler in the summer lmao. it's very much a personal preference thing though! i'd maybe go for a full-length one if you have a Larger chest, just to make sure everything is Contained (sorry i know that's not the most ideal way to put it but i am running out of word steam LMAO). cons of the half-tanks are also i've found they stretch out/lose their compression quicker than the full-tank counterparts, so if that longevity is important then it's worth keeping in mind.

also don't tumble dry them - machine washing is fine ofc but make sure you're air-drying them as tumble drying will also nuke that compression material real quick in my experience.

OKAY now that i've written you a novel i hope any of my rambling is useful, and feel free to hmu any time if you have any more questions or anything!! if i can't help i can at least try and point you towards people/places that can!

and good luck, godspeed, you got this <3

My fellow transmascs i NEED your help. I have gotta start binding because this dysphoria has HANDS but I have so many questions. Every online resource is dogshit and I can’t get answers so if you can help with any of this, please do:

Are there any brands that I should absolutely steer clear of?

Which brands, if any, would be safe to wear for my full work day (8-9hrs)?

Do any brands specifically account for variances in shape/position of breast tissue? I have never been able to find bras that fit my shape 100% correctly, so this factor is a bit important to me.

Am I supposed to measure myself bare chested?

[arc-misadventures]

Jaune FMK Weiss winter willow

Jaune: FMK Schnee’s

Jaune: Okay… This is actually a rather simple choice, choices for once…

Weiss: Simple?! You’re choosing between me, my sister, and my mother, and the choices is rather simple?!

Winter: Now now, Weiss. First, lets see what his choices are, then we can complain about them.

Willow: And, what every they are are better than the hell I have dealt with at the expense of him…

Weiss: Fine… But you better watch it, Jaune, or else!

Jaune: Okay…? Well to start off: Marry, Winter.

Weiss: What?!

Winter: Oh really~?

Weiss: Why are you marrying her?!

Jaune: Well… She has height, beauty, and curves. Men, such as myself are attracted to those things.

Winter: I do poses all of those, and more dear sister~!

Weiss: And, because of that you chose my sister over me?! And, what do you mean men are attracted to those kind of things?!

Jaune: Genetics.

Weiss: Genetics?

Jaune: Yeah, woman with, Winter’s, ‘hour glass figure’ tend to have high…high fertility rates…

Weiss: What?! You want to breed my sister?!

Winter: You what?! Why ypu…?!

Willow: No no, lets see where he’s going with this.

Jaune: What! I want to have a family! People look for such things when they want to have a relationship. In fact, Winter, do you want to have a family of your own some day?

Winter: W-Well yes I would… A-And, after getting to know you… I-I wouldn’t mind having a family w-with you…

Jaune: See! Even, Winter wants a family! That’s why I marry, Winter. She beautiful, smart, elegant, and like me wants to have a family too! So I could see us having a family together, a big family. Not as big as my family, but a family nonetheless.

Winter: How big is, Jaune’s family?

Weiss: Seven sisters, and himself. Only one pair of twins.

Winter: That poor woman!

Willow: Or, damn lucky~!

Winter: Mother?!

Willow: What? To have that many kids means they did it a lot. Even we, your father, and I unfortunately did it multiple times. So just imagine how viral of a man your husband is~!

Winter: But, mom, it’s just a game, we’re not actually getting married!

Willow: Yet~!

Winter: Y-Yet…?!

Weiss: So, I guess you’re gonna fuck me, and kill my mom then?

Jaune: Actually I was going to fuck your mother, and kill you.

Willow: Yes!

Weiss: WHAT?! How could you say that?!

Jaune: I am a hormonal teenager, and your mother is a thic milf, who has lived the definable of a loveless marriage! This is the bases of so many cheap quality porn films, so of course I want to fuck your mom!

Weiss: But, my mom?!

Jaune: Hey! You stuck it to your father by throwing him in jail! I’m gonna stick to him by sticking it up your mothers ass!

Weiss: YOU’RE GOING TO DO WHAT?!

Willow: Mmmmh~! I can already imagine it; My fingers running through his short golden locks as he uses his body as he pleases. Him ravishing my body, molding my body to his shape. Him claiming me as his, and his alone. Ohhh~! Just what this lonely old woman needs~!

Winter: Mom, you can’t be serious…

Willow: You father was a ‘pump, and dump’ man… who left me thoroughly unsatisfied. Mr. Arc definitely doesn’t appear to be such a man. So just imagine, what it could be, what it will be~!

Winter: B-But, are you sure it would be like that?

Willow: Well… word from the grapevines says it is like that…

Winter: What grape vines?

Willow: So, how about I have the first run with him. After that, and I know how good he is. We can both take him together for your first time.

Winter: T-Together?!

Willow: Just think about it dear. There’s no rush.l for you to make your decision. That is, until you need it~!

Winter: I-I-It…?!

Weiss: So why am I getting the ax?! What did I do?!

Jaune: You said no… Months ago… In fact you slammed a door on my face to make your point clear to me.

Weiss: Eh?

Jaune: So, I’m going to pick the two that I have a chance with, than the one who said no to me.

Weiss: B-But, What if you do have a chance with me… N-Now?

Jaune: Eh?

Weiss: You’ve grown up, I’ve grown up, were both different people then we were back then. So, don’t you think there is a chance we might be able… to become something more that what we currently are…?

Jaune: …

Jaune: Outside of the game, I think there is a chance for all of us to be more than just friends…

Weiss: R-Really?!

Jaune: But, this is MFK; You’re dead little lady.

Weiss: Shit!

[reyesstrand]

not a victory march

2.8k - tarlos/tk & gwyn/tk & owen - teen+

Carlos approaches, still under the assumption that everything is fine because it's supposed to be, and TK feels his eyes start to burn when Carlos asks him to tell his mom he says hi.

Because that's something he'll never do again.

(Spoilers for 3x07).

There's nothing he knows more intimately than this: the time-slowing, numbing sensation of grief.

It feels like something heavy; something with claws and teeth that hides in the shadows, lulling him into a false sense of security until he's taken by surprise and bled like an animal.

TK's six when it first greets him—he's defenceless and too young to understand the weight of fear and anguish that settles over a whole city. He loses his dad to it, to the endless hours of work, a piece of him gone forever with the smoke that clogs up the sky and the ash that piles up against the curb outside their apartment complex.

TK's fourteen when it happens again, and he's staring at the floor—green tiles eventually giving way to a pale brown carpet—as his mom tries to get the hospice nurses to make an exception and let him have one last chance to say goodbye to his grandmother. When they get the call that she passed away in her sleep two days later, she's teary-eyed and shaking, trying to keep a brave face as she comforts him through his first loss. She presses kisses to his temple and slides a grilled cheese in front of him, between phone calls to make funeral arrangements, an only daughter's heavy burden.

She's always there for him, is the thing. Even when TK doesn't deserve her; when he was high and angry at the world and slurring together words he never meant but hurled at her anyways, she would stay and make sure he came down without choking on his own vomit and told him that she loved him.

("Still?" TK had asked once, twenty years old and barely two days out of the hospital after the overdose that'd had his mom pouring over the websites of in- and out-of-state rehab centres for hours. He was sitting there with sweat dotting along his hairline as he tried to stomach a bowl of soup, legs swinging from the high stool at her kitchen island. "I don't know how you can keep forgiving me."

He'd stared down at the spoon submerged in broth, and his stomach turned. When she looked up, he glanced away, and trained his gaze on the photo of her and Enzo in front of the Eiffel Tower that'd been stuck to the fridge for a year and a half. When he looked back at his mom, he found her frowning, her eyebrows drawn together. It took half a second until she'd abandoned her laptop and wrapped her arms around him from behind, forcing his shoulders into a gentle sway that matched the rhythm of the song playing from her running playlist.

"Yes, still," Gwyn replied, turning him around so he could face her. She looked at him like he'd grown two heads for even asking before her expression softened. "I'll always love you and forgive you. There's nothing in the world that could change that, honey.")

Again and again, she was there, even when he moved halfway across the country and had to learn through the grapevine that he'd almost died again. She'd cancelled meetings in Shanghai and handed over treasured cases to her associates just so she could ensure he was getting the best care possible.

She always came back because that's what she does. What she did.

He snaps back to the present, and it all feels like some cruel, sick joke.

(continue on AO3)

[wordsfromthesol]

The Set-Up

Author: @wordsfromthesol Taglist: @zphilophobiaz @anousiemay @malfoys-demigod @pricetagofficial Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader Summary: You are Dinah's younger sister. Word Count: 2,410 A/N: I know it’s been awhile so if anyone wants on/off a taglist just let me know!

"Alright, Roy, you got me here. What's so important?" You called out as you stumbled into what the Outlaws deemed a safehouse. Their standards were pretty low.

"We needed a fourth, okay! Go get Jason and I'll brief everyone." Roy hurried you out of the room that he and Kory were already set up in. You sauntered up to the closed door and knocked.

"Jason, you decent?" You shouted as your fist rapped against the wood.

"Well I'm not morally decent, but I'm wearing pants if that's what you're asking. Though I can be without pants if that's what you prefer --" Jason's voice trailed off as he swung open the door and was met with your face. Clearly, he figured the person on the other side would be Roy or Kory. His face slightly reddened as he reached back and grabbed a shirt.

"I mean…maybe not right now. Roy needs to go over the mission with us." You winked at his obvious embarrassment before trotting off in the direction you came from. Jason quickly caught up with you.

"I…uh…I didn't know Roy asked you for help."

"Yeah he didn't really tell me much. Just that you guys needed a fourth. Not sure why he thinks I'll make that much of a difference.

"Guess we should go find out." Jason raced past you, hoping to avoid further embarrassment, but stopped dead in his tracks as he entered the living room. Roy and Kory were both staring at him, trying to hold back fits of laughter. "What is this all-important mission Y/N was recruited on?" He asked in an attempt to redirect their attention. You walked in behind Jason just in time to get the answer.

"Not really all-important…" Roy's voice reeked of mischief, "just better to have four than three. Then we can do two teams."

"You do know that I have my own agenda. I'm not just sitting around waiting for your call."

"Oh Y/N/N! Don't think of it like that, I practically begged him to ask you. I seriously need some more girl time." Kory piped in to release some of the building tension.

"Uh-huh, sure. Roy, what are we doing?"

"Right. Human trafficking, finally got a hit on this group. Think it's their main smuggling port. There are two docks to check, so two teams. See, I do have a plan. Kinda…"

"Hm mm" you mumbled, still not fully believing him, but you let him continue anyways. You didn't fly out here for nothing.

**

Hours had passed and the four of you sat near the docks, waiting for the cover of nightfall. The smugglers, however, did not. You grabbed Jason's arm and began running towards the dock as soon as you saw a boat pulling into the harbor.

"What are you doing?" Jason mumbled as he ran to keep up with you.

"Are you blind? There's a container ship pulling into the docks. The dock that Roy told us to watch."

"The sun is still setting. There's no way they'd be that stupid." He tried to reason with you, but your pace didn't slow.

"Maybe they just paid the right people. Or killed them." You retorted though the timing was eerily suspicious. Both of you came to a halt when you only saw four guys. Sure, they had guns…but it definitely wasn't enough to warrant extra help. You glanced over at Jason in utter disbelief. "You want me to sit this one out or…"

"Let's just get it over with." Jason was clearly just as agitated as you were. The "battle" lasted only a few seconds and your trip back to the rendezvous spot was completed in utter silence.

"So…Roy. Why the fuck was I needed here?" Holding nothing back, you cried out as soon as you saw his red costume appear in the distance.

"Woah, hold up there. Must've gotten some bad intel. It happens. Better safe than sorry."

"Yeah well next time be sure. I do have my own cases and crime rings to dismantle." You walked off in a huff, determined to find your own way back. You didn't know what exactly Roy was up to, but you knew you wouldn't like it.

**

Months passed since the pointless mission with the Outlaws. You had gotten back to Miami, your home for the time being as you investigated a new drug trade route coming up from South America. Finally, you had made some progress, only said progress led to you being pinned down behind some wooden barrels.

"These aren't going to last long," you mumbled as you dialed Kory on your phone. No answer. "Fuck." Roy was next.

"Y/N, can this wait --" You hear the wind get pushed out of him just as the sentence finished.

"Hm not really. Kinda been pissing off the wrong people and now I'm pinned down."

"Fuck." Roy mumbled as he threw a punch towards the jaw of the unsuspecting thug.

"I tried Kory, but -- shit…" You watched as the barrels splintered around you.

"Off-world. I'm patching in Jas --" Roy stopped a syllable short, you assumed dodging his own bullets. You didn't wait for him to finish.

"Yeah look. I'm in Miami." You heard Jason mumble your name but continued on. You didn't know how much longer you would have. "Pretty sure they'll take me alive. Heard through the grapevine the boss wants the honors himself." You sucked in a sharp breath as you felt a bullet pierce through your shoulder. You took a few steadying breaths before continuing. "I have a tracer in my mask. I'll try to keep it on as long as I can. If you can't track it for some reason, call my sister." You didn't hang up the call before slowly raising your hands above the splintered barrels. "Take me to your leader," you exclaimed in your best alien impression, all while trying not to laugh.

"Do you think this is a game?!" One of the thugs screamed at you as they inched closer. You just shrugged, waiting to either be killed or taken. "Well grab her, idiots!" Two men hesitantly walked towards you, guns still drawn.

"Should I tie myself up? Would that be easier?" At this point, your sarcasm was the only thing keeping you sane. Finally, they got within striking distance and everything went black.

"Y/N? What's happening?!" Jason frantically began calling out your name as he was met with silence. Roy eventually spoke up.

"Jason. I hope you're on your way. I'll meet up with you as soon as I can, but I need to get ahold of Dinah first." Roy had no idea what he was going to say to her.

"Even in the jet, it's going to take 2 hours to get there…" The reality of the situation set it. "But I'm taking off now." Jason tried to push the horrific thoughts from his mind.

**

You woke up tied to a wooden chair. Not surprising.

"So, where's the boss?" You forced the words out, willing yourself into consciousness.

"Don't worry girlie, he's on his way…though I suppose there's nothing wrong with having a little fun first." The goon smirked as he flipped a knife in his hands.

"Well, you wouldn't want to damage the merchandise." You could tell he wasn't sold, so you continued. "I mean I'm dead either way, right? Wouldn't want you to risk your life as well…" He just stared blankly at you while the gears turned in his mind. Finally, he let out an exasperated huff and turned his back to you. At least you were able to buy yourself a little more time. Though you had a feeling it still wouldn't be enough. As your head began spinning, you looked down at your shoulder. The blood was still pouring out of the wound. "Of course…" you mumbled as the dizziness intensified. You were going to have to think of something quickly.

"So, how'd you get stuck with this job? Or are you just some disposable errand boy who got lucky?" You began antagonizing him as you attempted to saw through the ropes with the small blade that discharged out of your gloves.  

"Lucky?" He turned towards you with a villainous look plastered across his face. He sauntered towards you and placed his hands on either side of the chair. "I've been following you. I know your patterns. When you strike. That ambush was calculated and planned. Boss sent me 'cuz he knew I'd get the job done." Before he could push himself up from the chair, you launched forward, ramming your head into his. As he crashed to the floor, another burly man rushed into the room. You managed to free one of your legs just in time. As he stumbled backward you bent down in an attempt to free your other leg. The man lunged at you again. Pulling the other leg free, you circle around and hurled the chair at him. You let out a huge sigh of relief and slid to the floor as he landed atop the first assailant.

**

Jason watched as men patrolled around the building. Just as he was about to move Roy's voice came over the comm, "Have you found her? What's the situation? I'm still an hour out."

"I found her. They have four guards patrolling. Heavily armed. I found an opening."

"Four patrolling…you can't get any intel about who's inside? I think you should wait for me to get there." Roy already knew there was no hope of that.

"We may not have a chance if I wait. I'm going in."

Jason heard his best friend sigh, before eventually relenting. "Keep me updated. I'll be there when I can." Jason saw his opening coming up again. He moved quickly and quietly, sliding into the open door. He took in his surroundings, trying to not alert anyone of his presence unless absolutely necessary. He didn't want to give any of them a reason to shoot you…that is, if you were still alive. As he rounded the corner, he came face to face with a brutish man. Jason launched himself forward, knocking them both to the ground as he muffled the goon's mouth with his hand and encapsulated his neck. It only took a few seconds before the guard was out cold and Jason continued lurching down the hallway. He stopped short of a closed door. Jason took a deep breath, preparing himself for whatever awaited him on the other side.

**

You were jolted awake a few moments later and looked around to find the two men still unconscious on the ground. Crawling over, you pulled at one of their jackets and cut off a long piece. It took the last bit of your energy to tie it around your still bleeding shoulder. As your eyes began to flutter closed once again, they shot open at the sound of the door opening. You forced your head upwards and let out a faint chuckle at the familiar Red Hood that looked down at you.

"Solis!" Jason's eyes went wide as he saw the amount of blood in the room. "Shit alright. I need you to stay awake, okay?" You nodded and forced your eyes open as Jason dove down beside you, properly retying the fabric around your shoulder. Jason stared at you for a few moments before pushing himself up and firing a single shot down the hallway. You watched intently as the goons came running in, Jason plowing through them in a matter of minutes. Jason scooped you up, not bothering to try and gather any further information from you.

**

You woke up in a bed in an unfamiliar room. Your brain began piecing together the events. Jason had come to get you, then put you in a car, brought you here, sewed up the wound…you wondered how long you'd been asleep. The door creaked open and you saw both Roy and Jason standing in its frame.

"You're awake! Thank fuck, D would've killed me!" Roy rushed over and embraced you.

"Yeah probably…" You were speaking to Roy, but you couldn't take your eyes off Jason. There was something there, unspoken, that you couldn't remember. What had happened? How long had you been asleep? As if reading your mind, Jason spoke up.

"It's only been 12 hours," he watched your eyes go wide. "Before you freak out, you lost a lot of blood and were barely hanging on to consciousness. 12 hours is not that many. You'll still be weak." Jason began to step towards you but hesitated. Roy immediately noticed the awkwardness his presence brought.

"Imma just…I'll go get us some food…or something." Roy pointed towards the door and rushed out.

"I feel like I'm missing something."

"No…I just. I was worried." You leered at him, knowing that was not what you were missing. You carefully sat up and swung your legs over the bed, determined to get to the bottom of whatever feeling this was. Once you attempted to stand, Jason was at your side in a fraction of a second. "I just said you would be weak…" he mumbled out.

"Well I have to go to the bathroom and you aren't giving me answers anyways." You tried to push him away. It unsurprisingly did not work.

"How long have I known you? For once, just stop being so damn stubborn!" He grabbed your shoulders, in an effort to steady both of you.

"I dunno like 8 years…" you grumbled out, unsure if the question was meant to be answered.

"Yeah well for 7 and a half of those I've loved you. And it just hit me that you could die…hell I could I die, and you wouldn't know." His hands traced down your arms and collapsed at his side. "I guess that just broke me, okay? Are you happy now?!" The anger in his voice rose.

"So how about those pants now?" You smirked, trailing your eyes over his body. Jason's eyes lit up as he began to laugh, recalling the situation from months prior.

"Maybe not right now…let's wait until you can stand on your own."

"JUST KISS HER ALREADY GOD DAMMIT!" Roy screamed from the doorway. Neither of you knew how long he'd been there, but that didn't deter Jason. His lips smashed into yours while his arms enveloped you.

"FUCKING FINALLY!" Roy screamed as he threw his hands up in the air.

[noteguk]

for science | jhs | m

— summary; in which Hoseok hears through the grapevine that you give one of the best blowjobs ever, and he needs to test it to be sure. 

— contents and warnings; blowjob (duh), dirty talk, praising and stupid pet names, cum eating, deepthroating (the oc has no gag reflex), Hoseok finds heaven, kind of crack? Idk don’t take this seriously, college!au, hoseok x reader (with a mention of past Jimin x reader), studying sessions being interrupted in the name of science 

— words; 5,1k

Requested by anon! 

Hoseok could be kind of clueless when it came to some science-related things (and his high school biology teacher could attest to that), but one thing he knew very well was the scientific method. All that hypothesis-testing-stuff, or whatever the hell that was (okay, maybe he didn’t know it that well) had taken him out of some trouble in the past. It helped him see some of his decisions in a more experimental light, avoiding the terrible Olympic-somersault-into-conclusions that had gotten so many of his friends into awkward situations. And it shouldn’t even be said that he took quite a bit of pride in that — it made him feel very intelligent and he would take any stroke to the ego that he could get. 

So, when Jimin got a bit too tipsy and started babbling on about how you gave him the best blowjob of his life, Hoseok was, at the very least, cautiously skeptical. 

“You’re such a drama queen.” Hoseok rolled his eyes before chugging down a bit more of his beer. He was nowhere near as intoxicated as Jimin was, and he wasn’t planning on changing that. It was a Wednesday night, for fuck’s sake. He had to leave some thrill to the end of the week. “It probably was like… alright. Good, even. But the best one ever? Please.” 

“It was so much more than alright, dude.” Jimin threw his head over the couch’s back, looking like he just got washed up on the shore. His hair was a mess of clear strands, exploding on his head like a failed science fair experiment. “It was the best suck of my liiiiife. I wish she didn’t hate me so I could have that again.” 

He scoffed. Hoseok had enough filter left in him to avoid telling Jimin that the reason why you hated him was entirely his fault — what did he expect from three weeks of ghosting? Besides, if the head was that good, he would surely stick around for just a bit longer than two months. “Sure. Like the time that you almost died riding a roller coaster.” 

“Hey. I almost did.” Jimin’s eyes opened, presenting his friend with a dazed-out, unfocused brand of frustration. He was getting tired of not being taken seriously — didn’t Hosoek know that alcohol makes you more honest? He wasn’t making things up. Not when they were as serious as the well-being of his dick, or actual death. “It was some Final Destination bullshit, I’m telling you. Pieces of metal flying and everything.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He waved it off, leaning closer to Jimin so he could take the almost-empty can of beer from his clumsy hands, and placed it on the center table. “I think you’ve had enough alcohol for tonight, man. You have a class at ten tomorrow.” 

“I’m serious, dude,” Jimin pressed on. It was past eleven and Hoseok only wanted to sleep, but the other boy was clearly clueless about the lack of mutual interest in that conversation. “Aren’t you two friends or something?”

“Kind of. It’s weird,” Hoseok answered. You two had lingered in a hazy friendship space for a long time now, and he didn’t know exactly how to explain your relationship. He didn’t really consider you two close by any means, but you weren’t strangers or casual friends either. To be honest, he hadn’t thought too much about it until that very moment. “Why? What does that have to do with anything?” 

Jimin sighed, fumbling against the sofa. Much to Hoseok’s delight, he was starting to get sleepy as well. “You could ask her to suck you off,” he mumbled, “then you can feel it for yourself.” 

He laughed at that, unable to believe what he was hearing. “Jimin, you’re out of your mind if you think that’s not gonna backfire.” 

He blinked heavily. “Hm? Why?” 

Hoseok blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “We aren’t that close, and we haven’t done anything remotely sexual before this. It would be super creepy.”

“That’s not true,” Jimin spoke lazily, as if the words were starting to get hard to find. There was a pause so long after his sentence that Hoseok thought his roommate had fallen asleep. “I know you guys made out like at the beginning of the semester. Taehyung told me so.”

He was going to murder Taehyung. “It wasn’t like that. We were both drunk and it was super awkward afterwards.” Hoseok got up from the couch, leaving Jimin to groan and spread out his legs over the cushions. “Listen, I’m glad you two had fun, and I’m sorry you ruined it. But I’m not gonna ask ____ to suck me off just so I can know if you’re being dramatic or not.” 

Jimin smirked wickedly — or at least tried to, because his lack of facial control wasn’t doing him any favors. “Whatever you say,” he teased, “but I think you’re curious.” 

Truth was: Hoseok was beyond curious. The cogs in his head had started to move, and his brain was evoking lewd images of you so fast that he could barely follow. He would be pretending if he said that he never saw you under that light before, but, after the mess that was your makeout session, he had forced himself to jump into the friendzone before he managed to make things worse. 

Hoseok liked you very much, even if you two weren’t particularly close. He enjoyed spending time with you, he found you funny, smart, and way out of his league. But he wasn’t delusional enough to believe that you would actually say yes to sucking him off, especially so out of the blue. 

“I’m not curious,” Hoseok lied through his teeth, and he wanted to change the subject so much that his head was starting to hurt. “You’re gonna sleep here?” 

“Hm… yes… the couch is very comfortable.” Jimin closed his eyes and adjusted his body on the furniture. His baggy shirt was already halfway through his stomach and his pants had ran up to his waist, but the man didn’t seem to notice. “You don’t know what you’re missing out on.”

Hoseok rolled his eyes, moving towards the door. He needed to get Jimin some blankets, because the other was surely not getting up for the rest of the night. It was bad enough to babysit him for those few hours of intoxication, but infinitely worse to make him chicken soup if he got sick. Been there, done that. “I’m sure the couch is great.”

Jimin’s voice was soft and sleepy when he spoke up again. Hoseok was already in the corridor, and he almost didn’t hear him when he said, “I’m not talking about the couch.” 

Hoseok went to Jimin’s bedroom and grabbed his pillow and the blanket from his undone bed. Meanwhile, scenarios ran wild inside his head, having you as the main star. He didn’t know what was taking over him, but he wasn’t so quick to ignore Jimin’s story. Hoseok was faced with a fantastic scenario of a perfect blowjob, and the idea that it was so close to him was making his pulse quicken. Again: it would be absurd to ask you to do that, regardless of the motive behind it, and he knew that it would be awful for your already-strange friendship. 

No, he could never do that. He would not. 

But like… what if it worked, and you magically accepted his request? And what if, by some wonderful moment, some millennial alignment of planets, Jimin wasn’t actually being hyperbolic and you actually had the ability to give incredible blowjobs? Could he really let it pass without giving it a shot? 

He could see it as a scientific experiment, Hoseok thought, as a way to prove a hypothesis. It couldn’t hurt if he just— 

Oh my god, dude, shut the fuck up and forget about this. 

Coming back to his senses, Hoseok strutted out of his roommate's bedroom and walked toward the living room. By the time he came back with the blanket and the pillow, Jimin was already deep asleep.

~ 

Against his best efforts, that conversation remained stuck to the back of his mind for the next two weeks. Hoseok would find himself going back and forth on the idea of you having some strange, Marvel-worthy superpower when it came to sucking dick and, worst of all, the idea that his skepticism was making him miss out on it. Jimin was exaggerated when it came to, well, pretty much everything, but that didn’t mean that he would be wrong about that specific subject. That would be a logical fallacy, and that was also something that Hoseok knew very well. Bless his late nights on Reddit for that. 

Yet as the days moved along, and his curiosity was slowly turning into desire, he was forced to revisit the infamous night between the two of you, the one that Jimin had so mercilessly mentioned. Thinking back on it, it wasn’t surprising that your overconsumption of alcohol, added to the way that you two had grown close (both physically and mentally) had ended up with Hoseok laying on top of you, kissing the soul out of you and fondling your breasts in the middle of a party. It wasn’t the most dignified moment of either of your lives, but, well, it happened. 

One way or another, the night didn’t move forward. Even if Hoseok already had a tent in his pants, you two were far too intoxicated to consent, and were quick to fall asleep before the situation could escalate. Bottom line: Hoseok woke up with your tit in his hand, a nightmarish hangover, and the decision that the You-Subject would have to stay on hold for some time. 

And on hold it stayed. For an entire semester. And it would’ve remained that way if Jimin’s stupid mouth hadn’t started talking. 

So after two weeks of self-inflicted psychological torture, Hoseok slipped a hangout invitation amidst your texts. If you saw any second intentions behind his “haven’t seen you in awhile, wanna hangout? ;)” you didn’t let it show. The problem was that you weren’t really in the mood to go out, especially since you had a big exam coming up, so Hoseok ended up convincing you that he would stay quiet if you let him go over to your place. 

It was a bit harder not to notice the desperation in his proposal that time, but you ended up agreeing. Your thought process was that the boy would eventually realize that his hangout attempt was ridiculous and that he would leave you to study by yourself, and the two of you would reschedule that odd friendship session to when you weren’t drowning in textbooks. 

The problem was that you had been stupid enough to believe that your friend would actually keep his mouth shut. 

Hoseok was seated on the edge of your bed for so long that he was sure that his asscheeks were permanently imprinted on your sheets. Because he hated himself, he kept eyeing the digital clock to your right, and he was certain that he had spent the last fifty two minutes and thirty three seconds staring at the back of your head and trying to come up with a casual way to ask for a blowjob. 

He had tried a few times already, and each one constituted of him being unable to finish his sentence, instead looking at you like BooBoo The Fool until you turned back around to face your disorganized desk, sighing and trying to concentrate on your work. 

All things considered, he couldn’t actually believe he had escalated Jimin’s sailor tale to that point. He was out of his mind, that was a fact, and he had absolutely no clue how you would react once he (if he) found the words to ask you to sacrifice your mouth for science. 

God, he was an idiot. 

He cleared his throat and got ready to try one more time. “So… I…” 

You sighed heavily and turned around on the chair. “Hobi, this is the fifth time you’re starting a sentence and not finishing it,” you said, annoyed. “Can you tell me what the problem is? I have a test in two days and you promised you wouldn’t interrupt me if you came over.” 

“I’m sorry,” he didn’t like feeling like a kid being scolded, even if he kind of deserved that. Hoseok guessed it would be better to just take off the band-aid before he made an even bigger fool out of himself. “Let me just, like, explain the context of this. Otherwise it’s going to be even more strange.” 

Dropping your pen, you fully swirled the chair around, crossing your hands over your legs. He wasn’t expecting your complete attention anytime soon, and the seriousness in your stare made his courage falter for a second. It was such a stupid idea, you’d just end up hating him like you did Jimin. “As long as you make it quick,” you told him.  

Hoseok hesitated, running one hand through his hair. “Yeah, okay, so… like, a few weeks ago I was talking to Jimin,” he started, watching your face for any signal of an expression — confusion, disgust, anything. But he found nothing. “We were drunk, and he started talking about the time that you two were together. Like, sexually.” 

You blinked, unfazed. “And?”

“And… he told me that you give, like, the best blowjobs in history,” the words left his mouth before he could fully digest them. This time, he got a reaction out of you — a light raise of your eyebrows. “And, no offense, but I didn’t believe him. You know how extra he is about some stuff. Most stuff.” 

There was a moment of silence as you waited for him to go on, but Hoseok was too busy swallowing his thoughts down and feeling like he would collapse at any given moment. You sighed. “So what? You wanted to tell me that you don’t believe in my blowjob abilities? That’s all? Can I go back to studying now?” 

“No, that’s…” Now, things were starting to get complicated. Just take off the band-aid, Hoseok, don’t chicken out now. “I wanted to know if you could show me. Like, if you could suck me off. So I could... confirm that hypothesis.”

Every part of his brain was suddently hyperaware of how fucking stupid he just sounded. He had expected that another thick silence would follow, but his heart almost leaped out of your chest when you started laughing at him — like, full-chest, eyes closing, head rolling back laughing. “Are you serious?” You asked, taking one hand to cover your mouth before, at last, bursting out again. He felt like his ego was being stabbed with a rusty nail. “I can’t believe you, Hoseok. Took you all this time just to ask me if I could suck you off? For science?”

His mouth felt like it was full of cotton and he had to clear his throat before he found the force to answer you. “Yeah, I mean, only if you’re comfortable with it, of course,” he struggled to say, each word morphing into the next. His stomach had frozen up and the flight or fight response was starting to kick in. Had he really been that much of an idiot? When did his cock start dictating his words? “I… I know this is like, super creepy. I’m sorry. We can forget this ever happened and I’ll never talk to you again. I shouldn’t have said anything.” 

Suddenly sad, he waited as you settled back on the chair, wiping a small tear from the corner of your eye before you stared at him. There was still a smirk crawling up your lips, and he felt like the world was collapsing all around him  as the silence expanded around the two of you. He looked at the digital clock: it had taken him precisely three minutes to ruin everything. 

He sighed, shoulders falling. “Do you hate me? Why are you so quiet?” 

You bit down on your lip, your eyes narrowing as you took his form in. Hoseok was hot: point blank. He was also nice, and respectful enough to realize that he might have overstepped a few lines with his request — and, even if you couldn’t really understand it, you also weren’t bothered by it. And you certainly didn’t hate him. In a way, you were almost flattered. You would’ve been more if the comment had come from anyone else but your Danny Phantom ex. But that was a different story. 

The entire situation was just too funny to let it go. And, besides, you really wouldn’t mind sucking Hoseok off. It wasn’t as if you had never thought about that before. 

“I’m... considering it,” you told him, watching as his face lit up in a mixture of confusion and joy. He looked like a kid seeing Santa for the first time. “If you promise to shut up and let me study, I’ll do it. And if you agree to never talk about it again.” 

Hoseok blinked profusely, his mind short circuiting. “For real?” 

“Yeah.” You raised from your chair, walking closer to your bed. Hoseok swallowed hard and leaned back, placing his hands on the mattress for support. “But do me a favor: if it’s not that good, don’t tell me. It’ll hurt me.” 

“Yeah, alright.” He swallowed dry, every neuron in his brain trying to grasp what the fuck had just happened. His mind was the Spongebob office being set on fire, and he suddenly didn’t know how to deal with the anticipation booming in his chest. “I’m... not hard yet, though.” 

“It’s okay.” You kneeled in front of him, placing your hands on his inner thighs and slightly pushing them apart. Hoseok quickly got the cue, and opened a bit more so you could comfortably place yourself between them. “Just... relax,” your voice was almost a whisper then, and he felt his soul trying to leave him. That was insane. “Let me take care of you.”  

Your words managed to make him relax a bit, then he tensed all the way back at the feeling of your hands fumbling with his button. His breath hitched as you pulled the zipper down, fingers hooking on the edge of his pants before tugging them down his thighs. 

He felt exposed as his pants fell like a puddle around his ankles, his tongue coming out to wet his lips as you leaned in. Hosoek felt like he was dreaming when you started nibbling at his skin, kissing and licking his inner thighs as you slowly made your way closer to his aching member. 

“I can’t believe this is happening,” he barely got out before sighing, the tingles of your caresses on his skin shooting directly towards his cock, already semi-hard. 

You flicked your eyes up at him, humming against his thigh muscles. You were now so dangerously close to his underwear that he thought he would lose consciousness. “Were you daydreaming about it or something?” You teased. 

Maybe in a different position, he would’ve lied about it. But the truth came out before he could hold it back. “Ever since Jimin told me that, yeah,” he said. 

“Hmm… hope I live up to the expectation, then,” you purred, looking up at him with those doll-like eyes. Hoseok suddenly felt like he was losing his balance, his entire body burning in desire and expectancy. You looked like another one of his horny daydreams, but you were kneeling right there, in arms reach, and he didn’t know how he would deal with what was about to ensue. 

Your mouth was hovering above his clothed cock before he could notice and, delicately, you leaned down to place a kiss on it. The touch was tender, almost numb with the fabric standing between you two, and yet Hoseok shivered, biting down on his lip as one of your hands enveloped his erection. He watched, mesmerized, as you started lazily stroking him through his underwear, leaning your head to the side so you could place heavy kisses on him, at times giving his tip a few kitten licks until it was covered by a thin layer of your saliva. 

The sensation left him on edge, silently begging for more. By the time you moved back so you could undress him, Hoseok was a mess of shallow breaths and heavy swallows; his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as pleasure started to build up at the corners of his perception. Biting back a moan of relief, Hoseok raised his hips as you slowly pulled his underwear downward, allowing for his cock to spring free from its confinement. You had done a good job teasing him, because it was already fully hard when it bounced against his abdomen, red-tipped and leaking. 

His gaze oscillated between your face and his cock, watching for any reaction as you took one hand to his length, squeezing him firmly. “Fuck,” he let out a grunt, his overwhelmed body responding to the smallest of touches. 

You smirked at his reaction, taking a quick glimpse at his devastated features before moving back to what you were doing. Hoseok was so cute, you thought, liking the way he was so responsive. 

A shudder ran up Hoseok’s body when your tongue came out between your lips, placing delicate licks on his base. He loved the feeling of your warm muscle against his hardened member, his mind growing eager as you began tracing a path upwards, flattening your tongue against him. His breathing was ragged by the time that you reached his crown, a hum escaping your throat as you lazily swirled your tongue around his tip, covering him with your saliva. 

You took your time caressing his slit with your mouth, waiting until he was cursing and panting before you finally wrapped your lips around him. At first, you only took his tip in your mouth, sucking so slowly that Hoseok whined and buckled his hips from the bed, trying to make you move faster. 

Wordlessly, you simply placed your palm against his thigh and pressed him back down. Even if that was the last thing he wanted to do, Hoseok accepted your order and settled back against the mattress, grunting as you continued to tease him. 

“Please, put it all in,” he begged, starting to lose his trail of thought. “This is torture.” 

And maybe another day you would have taken a bit more time torturing him, but, that afternoon, you were kind of in a rush to finish studying. So you complied. 

“Oh, fuck, fuck.” His eyes shut and his head was thrown back as you fully sank down on his cock, your tongue flat against him. Before he could stop himself, his hand flew to your hair, yanking at the strands as you moved back up, your hand pumping the parts of him that you couldn’t reach. 

“God, your mouth feels so great…” He moaned, back arching as you reached his tip once again, licking it before sinking back down — you took him just a bit deeper that time, and the motion didn’t pass by unnoticed. He was really starting to believe Jimin, and he wondered if maybe he should’ve been more worried about the entire rollercoaster situation. “Ah, that’s it. Just like that.” 

You moaned around him, the vibrations making him cry out, desperate. Hoseok couldn’t hold himself back from moving closer to the edge of the bed, his other hand clenching your bedsheets between his fingers as you continued to swallow his cock like it belonged in the hot confinement of your mouth. 

“Oh— oh my god, baby,” he grunted, pulling at the strands of your hair. His mind was starting to get hazy, his chest fluttering in a mess of sighs and heavy breaths every time that you sank down on his member; every time you flicked your tongue against his sentitive slit or pumped his base. “That’s really good, you take my cock so well.”

You looked up just to see the mess that Hoseok had turned into. With his mouth parted and eyes glazed over, he looked like he was about to fall apart at any second. He was watching you in complete awe, his eyebrows falling to form a beautiful frown of concentration; tongue coming out to lick his lips. He was so fucked out that you felt yourself getting riled up by his image, a pool of wetness accumulating between your thighs. 

“You look so pretty like this.” He exhaled, unaware of his own words. Hoseok was too busy following your swollen, redden lips as they wrapped around his member, your cheeks hollowing after you sucked him with all that you had. Even the small amount of droll around your mouth was enough to make him throb in your hold, a grunt escaping him. “With these — fuck — those pretty lips around my cock, shit. I could watch you forever.” 

You hummed around his member again at his words, the vibrations shooting directly at his core, where a rising heat had dangerously grown stronger, signaling his upcoming orgasm. Hoseok loved the way you actually looked like you were enjoying yourself, moaning and whimpering around his cock as you took all of him in your mouth, eyes closing every time he throbbed inside you. The eagerness in which you took him in, like you were starving for his cock, was one of the filthiest images that Hoseok had ever seen, and it was one that he knew would haunt his dreams for the years to come. 

When you removed his cock from your mouth with a dirty wet sound, Hoseok was about to complain before he saw you licking down his length, one of your hands holding his cock away from your face as your tongue started to play with his balls. It was an odd feeling, but not an unwelcomed one, and it kept him on edge for a little while longer while you played with him. 

With a timid whimper, you looked up at him as you licked your way back up to his tip. The image was so hot that he almost fainted, a deep moan escaping his throat when you took him back inside your delicious mouth. 

And the truth was clearer than Hoseok had ever expected: Jimin was right. 

“Fuck, babe, how did you get this good?” Hoseok grunted, trying his best to focus on the picture-perfect image of your lips wrapped tightly around his throbbing cock. He could tell that his release was starting to build up at an alarming rate, his thighs growing weaker every time you took him inside you. “Oh my- Ngh! Fuck! Oh my god!” 

Hoseok’s mind was wiped clean when he felt his tip hitting the back of your throat, his hips buckling up as your throat clenched around him. He was pretty sure he was in heaven then — if he focused, he could hear angels singing all around him — , his pleasure overtaking every cell of his body as you continued sucking the soul out of him. 

“Holy fuck, do that again,” he begged, his voice much higher than before. You didn’t need to be asked twice, because, within a second, he was crying out at the feeling of your throat wrapping around his cock one more time; his hands holding tightly to the roots of your hair. The only reason why Hoseok hadn’t started fucking your mouth yet was because he wanted to have you in control, giving him the best head of his life without any interruption. “Fuck, fuck— Baby, you’re so fucking good at this, fuck.”

There was a vague raising of his hips to meet your movements, making him hit the back of your throat again and again, the lewd sounds you were making filling the room. Nothing in his life had ever compared to that instant, he had ever felt a pleasure as great as he did at that point, and he knew it was about to snap. 

“God, I’m gonna cum,” he sobbed, finally closing his eyes and letting the pleasure take over. “Fuck, you’re so good, I’m gonna—“ 

Hoseok filled your mouth with his cum, dripping down your throat when you swallowed around him. His head was spinning and his muscles were trembling, and that time he was unable to hold himself back from thrusting up against your mouth, trying to prolong that divine sensation for as long as he could before, at last, collapsing against the mattress with a final, shaky moan. 

He barely heard you when you got up to your feet, his mind floating above his body as he tried to get himself back together. With the little force that he still had inside him, Hoseok leaned on his elbows and stared at you like you were made of gold. “Fuck, ____.” He breathed out, and the only thing he could say was, “What the fuck?” 

You giggled at his reaction, thumb cleaning a bit of cum that had painted the corner of your mouth. “I appreciate your feedback,” you teased, pointing over your shoulder, to where your desk stood, forgotten. “Now that you have your answer, can I study in peace?” 

“Y-Yeah, sure,” he struggled to say. “I’ll... stay quiet.” 

You smiled brightly. “Thanks!” 

He thought about thanking you right back for giving him the best orgasm of his life, but he thought that would make everything much more pathetic. So he didn’t. 

Hoseok eventually found the motivation within him to put his cock back inside his underwear, clumsily pulling his pants back up. He found himself in the same position he was before everything went down: dumbfounded, staring at the back of your head as you worked on your textbook. The red numbers on the clock told him that just ten minutes had passed, and yet his life had completely changed. 

All that he wanted was to return the favor — it was the fair exchange, after all. Hoseok sat up at the edge of the bed and spoke up, filled by a newfound courage. “Wait. Don’t you want me to take ca—”

“Shut the fuck up, Hoseok.” 

His mouth fell shut and his courage deflated just as quickly. Maybe another time.

[candychronicles]

best damn show // h. shinsou

A/N: my take on the bnharem villain/hero swap collab! this was supposed to be super super short but oops...

CHARACTER PAIRING: Shinsou Hitoshi x F!Reader

WORD COUNT: 3,918

WARNINGS: a half-assed sex scene, mentions of toxic coping mechanisms, bad mental health, alcohol and mentions of sex trafficking

SYNOPSIS: a dangerous villain is on the loose and Shinsou will find out who it is no matter what. 

Click here to read more fateful encounters! 

Shinsou turned off the TV with a resounding click, huffing in frustration. he had been there last night, seen the carnage, the chaos and pain that was caused by the villain. he didn’t know who they were, what they looked like, what their plan was, but he sure as hell didn’t want to wait to find out. The Hero Commission had instructed every hero to be on the lookout for suspicious activity but all it created was more chaos and distrust in a time when everyone needed to come together to figure out the issue at hand. being the type of hero that he was, one with a quirk that was not necessarily smiled upon, instantly created problems between himself and his team.

it became quite apparent that he needed to step down for a few days. while everyone claimed that it was for personal health issues, he left because he knew that he was being sussed out and couldn’t be trusted. despite trying his whole life to prove that he was a hero, nobody ever seemed to really see that he was one. even Aizawa thought it was best if he stepped away for the time being as tensions continued to rise between coworkers, friends and acquaintances alike.

to be frank, he was sick of being treated like a dog, someone who was there for entertainment and to do the dirty work of the heroes that wanted to keep their shiny crowns spotless. he was sick of being treated like less than scum on the pond, gum on a shoe or even trash littered on the side of the road. there were very few people in his life that truly believed in him and what he could do and while that was normally enough, it wasn’t today. there was someone truly dangerous on the rise, someone who could destroy entire cities if they wanted to, especially with the influence they had, and he wasn’t going to let them get away.

that’s how he ended up sneaking around the site of the initial attack. there was very little evidence there, everything cleared out from the cops, firemen and cleaning crews, but a little flyer about a bar stuck out like a sore thumb between two dull gray cement blocks. he plucked it out with his fingers and examined the barely held together paper, just managing to make out an address.

fuck it, might as well go. the worst that will happen is i get drunk and Kaminari will have to drag my ass back him, but honestly, he’s put me through worse.

with that thought in mind, he strolled to the bar near where the attack happened. the place was small and cozy and certainly not like anything he was expecting. a few people mingled around, chatting and laughing and nobody batted an eyelash when he walked in with his hood up and hands in his pocket. sliding into a chair, he signaled with one hand for the bartender to come and take his order. in what seemed like an instant, a neat whiskey, double, was placed in front of him with a kind nod.

before he had a chance to sip on his drink, another patron slipped in next to him. you were barely paying attention and apologized profusely when you realized you practically pushed him off his chair.

“i am so so sorry! i slid in here like a chicken with my head cut off. have you ever actually seen that happen before? it’s honestly quite terrifying,” you started, laughing at your own antics before continuing, “let me buy you a drink to make it up to you.”

“are you hitting on me?” was the first thing that came out of his mouth as he quirked an eyebrow at you, studying your flushed face and doey eyed expression.

“well, your hood is up so i can’t really see how cute you are. i’m honestly just half assed drunk and feeling extra nice tonight. no flirting here!”

he chuckled before flipping his hood down, cocking his head towards the bartender as he downed his drink in one gulp. you admired his face, the way it barely scrunched up despite the taste, his adam’s apple bouncing up and down.

“one more please! actually, make that two.”

you and Shinsou spent the whole night laughing about what seemed like the dumbest things: how many vertebrae giraffes had in their neck, how many ice cubes you could each fit in your mouth at one time, how crayons were made, and who could take a shot with a straight face. the latter led you two to being absolutely hammered as you stumbled out of the bar at a crisp three in the morning.

“s’nice meeting you S-shinsou! we should do this a-again sometime,” you stated matter-of-factly, laughing at the confused look on his face.

he spent a few seconds pondering the situation before agreeing to meet you here in a few days, sloppily exchanging numbers and hoping that they were right before he walked you back to your apartment, citing that it wouldn’t be fair as a hero for him to not escort you home to your safe spot.

the next morning resulted in a pounding headache as he sat up groggily from the couch, still dressed in all black from the night before. despite not learning anything about the villain that had caused the attack, he had to admit that his night was still nice.

the next few days before you two were supposed to meet up, Shinsou went full vigilante. he spent hours scouring any database he could for underground information about the villain. they were calling themselves “nightcrawler” and they were an internet sensation, spewing opinions about The Hero Commission, how villainous and cruel they were, how people and their quirks were being suppressed by this glamorized shit show. he snorted at the opinions, half agreeing with what they were saying but not so much on the way they were going about the situation.

every lead led him to a dead end. people knew of them but not who they were, what they looked like and certainly not where they were. he was able to gather some minor information from lackeys that claimed a man at an underground fighting ring might know something about nightcrawler but nothing was set in stone.

before he knew it, he was meeting you again at the bar, feeling guiltier than ever for acting like some righteous hero when he was a borderline vigilante at this point. you didn’t seem to care who he was, what kind of job he had or what his boring routine was like. you wanted to hit deep, spilling dark secrets to each other, like how depressed you felt sometimes living a boring life behind a desk, how he felt like he wasn’t really a hero, how you drank to cope with the pain sometimes, how he was doing exactly the same. eventually, he spilled to you how he was technically still a hero but doing some not so legal digging on the side as he got benched due to the distrust because of his quirk.

you frowned as you watched him confess how he felt, emotion after emotion rolling over him in waves, from sadness to anger to confusion to defeat. you sympathized with every word that came out of his mouth, not understanding what it was like to be a hero but hurting with every word nonetheless.

“well, what’s your next move?” you finally asked after a few moments, watching the gears turn in his head as he processed your words.

“i heard through the grapevine that a certain shady underground fighting ring might have some more information on the whereabouts of nightcrawler.”

you prodded him for all the details, grinning in delight when he mentioned the name of where he wanted to go. without saying another word, you yanked him off his feet, throwing cash down on the bar to pay for your drinks as you dragged him out of the place and down only a few blocks. he spent the whole time bewildered and confused but judging by your determined stance and wicked smile, he figured he knew where you were taking him.

the entrance wasn’t anything spectacular. in fact, it was quite dingy, a cellar amongst garbage. you kicked the trash bags out of the way and pulled the doors open, motioning for Shinsou to follow you, pulling the cellar shut tight behind you as you walked down the dimly lit path to another metal door.

knocking twice and then once more, a man eyed you and Shinsou up and down, asking for the password, which you gleefully cheered out. the man grunted then opened the door fully, telling you to enjoy your time. Shinsou jumped when the clang of metal sounded out but was instantly pulled in towards the scene in front of him. there were people all over the place shouting and cheering as two burly men fought in the ring in front of him. none of the people looked like they should’ve been there. people with bright green dyed hair, women in business suits, men lounging around in sweatpants and holey t-shirts, people of all races and ethnicities gathered together to watch.

it was like a scene out of a movie, the chaos and confusion almost being enough to stun a person where they stood, but Shinsou was trained to react to anxiety inducing situations and quickly began scanning around to find the man that might have known what was going on with nightcrawler.

murmuring a quick “stay here,” Shinsou delved into the crowd, spotting the man in charge quite easily, watching the way he cockily examined the fight and all its inhabitants like he owned them.

“hey, we need to have a little chat,” he stated, staring the man directly in the eyes.

“buddy, i don’t know-” the man was cut off as he became enraptured in Shinsou’s quirk.

it took only a few moments before the man was a blubbering mess, but he still wouldn’t crack on who nightcrawler was.

“listen man, she’ll kill me if she finds out i said anything,” he cried.

that was enough information for him to go off and with one final nod, he slipped back into the shadows to find you eagerly cheering on the fight, shoulder to shoulder with a pretty girl with red hair as you two chatted animatedly about what was happening.

“ready to go princess?” he questioned, watching you flush a bright pink underneath the harsh stage lights before you abruptly turned around to smash your lips against his own.

he stood there shocked for a few moments but before you could fully pull away, his lips were back on yours, this time fervent in worship.

the walk back to your apartment was excruciating, kisses being exchanged as Shinsou kept a watchful eye out for any seedy people, especially since you were so close to the latest villain attacks.

when you finally entered your apartment, it was all teeth gnashing together, clothes being practically torn off one another as you explored every inch of your bodies. his hands on your hips, trailing up to tweak your nipples, swallowing your moans with his mouth. your hands tangled in his messy hair, down to the back of his neck to pull him impossibly closer to you, not wanting to miss a moment of him. you didn’t know what he was going through or what possessed him to call you that nickname but you weren’t going to pretend that you weren’t absolutely infatuated with him.

to him, the nickname just slipped. you were so cheesy, so angelic and innocent and yet badass and strong at the same time. the things you went through in life, how you persevered despite it all, made his heart burst out of his chest. it was as if you almost understood him at an atomic level despite only knowing him for a few days. you shared the same morales, the same commonalities, what you wanted to do with your life, how you could change the world if you wanted to. he drank it all up with deep passion, whispering sweet nothings in your ear as he bottomed out inside of you, desperate to hear your moans and whines, to feel you melt underneath his touch.

after what felt like hours and seconds all at once, you collapsed on his chest, drunk off of sex, sweat clinging to your skin like a sheet. you absentmindedly traced your fingers up and down his chest, admiring the swirl of purple hair tufting from his pecs.

“Shinsou,” you started, waiting for his drowsy hum before continuing, “if you could really change the world for the better, would you do it? no holds barred?”

he contemplated you for a moment before responding, “i don’t think i’m cut out to change the world, especially if it means hurting people in the process.”

you hummed in thought before softly whispering, “i think out of any of the heroes, you’d be the one to really change the world. i mean, you’re the one who’s sitting here, kicked out all because the people who you’re supposed to trust with your life can’t even look you in the eye. you’ve suffered so much, struggled so much and yet here you are fighting to catch this villain.”

you paused to collect your thoughts before starting again, “i mean, i don’t know if i could do the whole killing thing. it seems like killing just leads to more killing, and then when will it end? but i don’t think causing a little chaos to get someone’s attention is so bad. property damage to the capitalistic animals that run this country, to the politicians who can look a depressed person in the eye and tell them they should just die, to the people who turn blind eyes to the injustices of this world. i mean, would that be so bad? would that ever really solve anything?”

Shinsou blinked once, twice, three times before shrugging his shoulders.

“i don’t really know if i can disagree with you on that one. i don’t know if i’d ever be able to go against something like The Hero Commission but if i could, i probably would. it doesn’t really matter now though. I’ll probably get kicked out after i find her anyways.”

“her?”

“nightcrawler. the man said she was a woman. it’s not much but it’s a start.”

you hummed in agreement, snuggling up into his side as you began to drift off into sleep, feeling safer than ever in his arms.

the next morning, Shinsou woke up to find out that the man he talked to the night before was dead. you were nowhere to be found and he began panicking before he heard the shower running and you humming to yourself, clearly happy and satisfied with the previous night's actions.

“hey, princess?” he questioned, knocking on the door and opening it to peek inside, watching the steam billow out.

“what’s up?” you asked, peering from around the curtain.

“i’ve got to check something out. i’ll swing by later, yeah?”

you pouted but nodded, blowing him a kiss before closing the curtain to continue your routine.

the walk to the underground club was much shorter than the night before now that his head was clear. there were police swarming the scene but one flash of his hero license and he was let on premises.

a few questions later and he was able to get all the information he needed. nightcrawler apparently found out the man slipped up and sent a lackey to dispose of him. turns out he was also in the sex trafficking business and used the shady underground fight club to hide the even shadier business of women and children. it turned his stomach to hear what was going on but couldn’t help but feel satisfied a sick man like him was no longer around to live.

he spent the rest of the day combing over clues as to who she may be. according to the police, she was there the night he was murdered. rumors spread that she had been planning her next attack as was using the man for intel. how they managed to get that much information but still didn’t know anything about her threw him off more than he could imagine.

before he had a chance to swing back to your apartment, he got a call from the head of his agency asking for a meeting. he swallowed thickly, wondering if they knew what he was doing behind the scenes. a quick ride and he was standing in front of the agencies shiny glass building trying not to throw up.

“Shinsou, good to see you! please, have a seat,” the corporate man stated, motioning for him to sit down across the desk.

he took two large strides and firmly planted himself down, staring the man in the eyes before nodding.

“now, Shinsou, we really appreciate everything you’ve done for this organization, but with the recent rampant villain attacks, we feel it best to place you on temporary leave until things blow over. that may be a few weeks or a few months but we can’t have our agency tarnished by representing someone who is so…”

“villainous?”

“sure, that word could work. i was going to say odd, but nonetheless. all we need you to do is sign right here saying you understand and we’ll make sure to get the checks sent out to you to cover your pay while you’re away.”

he stared at the paper for a few moments before delicately picking it up with his hands and proceeding to rip it in half. he wasn’t sure what caused him to do that but he didn’t care. at that point, he was done being treated like some villain when he was only trying to be the best hero he could be. with a small chuckle at the man’s stunned face, he muttered an “i quit” before walking out of the office with his head held high.

by the time he arrived at your apartment door late that night, he was absolutely panicking. how could he just quit his job as a hero so easily? he fought tooth and nail to be the best version of himself and it seemed to never be enough. he was in near tears when you opened the door, a confused look on your face before you motioned for him to come in and sit down on your couch, offering him a glass of water as you sat waiting for him to speak.

“Shinsou, what’s wrong?” you finally asked with a sigh, placing your hand on his knee to stop it from bouncing up and down.

“i-i quit my job, i just did it. i don’t know what came over me but they wanted to put me on leave and sign some dumb non-disclosure agreement and i just couldn’t do it. they fucked me over so bad and i just didn’t want to be their lackey anymore.”

you signed once more, flopping back into the couch before abruptly sitting up straight, looking him dead in the eye.

“Shinsou, i need to tell you something, okay? and i need you to listen to the whole story before you freak out on me.”

he nodded and that was the only confirmation you needed to continue.

“i’m nightcrawler. before, i was a hero and a damn good one at that. i was trained by The Hero Commission personally to be a faceless assassin. i did their bidding for the greater good, or so i told myself, but the killing became too much for me when they ordered me to kill children. i just couldn’t do it. and so they began framing me, creating me to be the bad guy that they always wanted. they’ve attempted to kill me before but they created a monster instead, someone who can fight and survive even when the odds are stacked against her. that attack that’s being blamed on me? it was them who attempted to frame me. they killed innocent people all to bring me down. the man at the nightclub? i didn’t kill him. i’ve stayed silent for awhile but i’ve been slowly building up my own army, trying to get people to join my side and my cause to fight against the injustices that are being forced upon us. Shinsou, i understand if you hate me for the rest of your life, but i also know you better than i think i should, and i know that you deep down would want to fight with me and for my cause, for the fall of The Hero Commission and the rise of something that would actually put everyone and their quirks first.”

Shinsou stared at you with a blank look in his eyes. you couldn’t tell what he was thinking or what was going on but you waited for him to respond. you would understand if he turned you in, understand if he killed you on the spot, but you secretly hoped that somewhere, deep down, he felt the same way that you did, fed up with being treated like a criminal, thrown to the streets like wild dogs, hunted and chased for sport.

after a few moments, you put your hands out, wrists up and pushed together as you waited for him to restrain you and take you away. he looked at you once again, this time eyes squinted together as if he was trying to figure out what you were doing.

“you can take me in. i wouldn’t be mad.”

“i’m not turning you in.”

you blinked owlishly at him, unsure of where this was going, but before you were able to speak again, he put one finger up to hush you.

“i get where you’re coming from and honestly, your ideas, your plans, they all make sense, but i don’t think i could ever be a part of that. i don’t think i’m the person that ever gets to make change. i’ll always be some outcast, and that’s okay with me.”

“Shinsou,” you started, not sure how to broach the topic, “you’re exactly what we need. a hero who fought so hard to be the best only to get shunned only when you were trying to help. i left the clue about the bar hoping someone would take notice, someone like you, that wanted to fight for a cause that meant something and now here you are. broken, confused, scarred but still strong enough to fight. we need you Shinsou. i need you.”

you held your hand out for him, waiting. you truly didn’t know if he was going to join, if he wanted to become something that he swore he never was, but they pushed him, treated him like scum and it was time for him to fight back. if he joined you, you would make sure he would never be treated that way again. instead, you would make sure he was someone who would always be included, someone who’s opinions and thoughts matter, someone who mattered.

he took a deep breath, fear and determination etched in his face before he clasped your hand in his own, squeezing firmly and looking you in the eye.

“if they want to paint us as villains, let's give them the best damn show we can.”

[thatesqcrush]

Voire Dire

Rafael Barba x Reader. Warnings: implied fem masturbation, slightly dub-con at the end (kissing) but reader is very enthusiastic. WC: 3,339

It was an ordinary morning on an ordinary day. It was early and the eighth floor was just beginning to fill up. You had already been in the office for well over two hours, working on a motion and you were already running against the clock. As people milled about, settling in, you grabbed your noise canceling headphones and slipped them on over your ears. 

You frowned when you realized your coffee cup was empty. You were in need for more coffee but did not have the time for it. As you let out an irritated sigh, you noticed the head of the junior ADA department, Sonny Carisi, stride in. As he passed by your desk, a brown paper bag plopped onto the desk. You slipped off your headphones and swiveled around.

“And what is this, Dominick?” You teased, as you reached into the bag.

“Bear-claw. Coffee - light and sweet.” Sonny called out as he settled into his office.

“God bless ya’ Sonny. You answered my prayers.” You called out, before blowing on the cup. It was so hot, steam rose from the small opening and the heat pricked your fingers. “How did you know?”

“A little birdie named Marjorie.” He replied. He stuck his head out the door. “She told me you were coming in early and if I recall anything from our Fordham days, it’s that you always forget to take care of yourself when you’re under the wire.”

You gave him a pointed look, which then softened into a smile. “Thank you, Sonny. Much appreciated. And when you win that Mickey Davis case, I am going to take you out for a celebratory drink.”

“Don’t start, we don’t even know what will happen. He may plead out.” Sonny replied. “I gotta go - meeting with the boss actually on this. Get back to work.”

“Yes sir!” You mocked saluted, before swiveling back to your computer. Time was ticking after all. 

**

The rest of the morning seemed to pass in a blur. Again, nothing extraordinary happened. And as you electronically filed your motion, you spun around in your seat, with your arms in the air, in silent victory. 

As you faced your desk, you saw Sonny walking back down to his office with a very handsome, distinguished looking man behind him. It was clear the two of them were having some kind of heated discussion. And you couldn’t care less. Because the man he was with, was the most handsome man you had ever laid eyes on. He wore dark jeans and blue and pink checkered shirt with a dark grey peacoat. His hair was perfectly coiffed, nary a hair out of place. And he had a meticulously groomed beard. His hair and his beard were dark, with salt and pepper flicked through. You had a sudden urge to tug on his beard and you wondered what it would feel like against your skin, as you slid your tongue into his. 

The man sauntered past your desk and you looked up, feeling a flutter shoot through you as your eyes met. You caught a whiff of the cologne he wore - faint whiffs of vetiver and bergamot - and you closed your eyes, enjoying the olfactory overload. You so badly wanted to turn around, but you could not. So you settled for leaning to the side in an attempt to eavesdrop.

“You know who that is, right?” You jumped in your seat slightly and looked up at Marjorie, your co-worker, and fellow ADA.

“No. But he is nice to the eyes.” You smirked. 

“That’s Rafael Barba.” Marjorie hissed. 

You sat up straight. “That’s him? The Rafael Barba?” You scanned the office and sure enough, people were whispering and talking to each other as they looked behind you. 

You couldn’t hear everything, but you could glean whatever they were talking about was not regular old shop talk. 

You heard something about a ‘nice view’ and ‘had to move the Xerox machine and four filing cabinets just to get the desk in,’ and you snorted. 

“Yeah, the one who k-worded a baby,” Marjorie continued, as she sat on the corner of your desk. She ripped off a remnant of your long-forgotten bear claw and popped it in her mouth. 

“He did not k-word a baby.” It was now your turn to hiss. “That baby was already dead. He… expedited its passing.”

“Well, regardless. No one has seen him since then. Last I heard he was working with The Innocence Project,” Marjorie replied, plucking another piece of the bear-claw.

The door swung open, Rafael turning to face Sonny. “I'm going for straight-up not guilty.” Rafael stormed past you, once more, a breeze blowing by as he did so - and with it, his cologne wafted once more and you felt the back of your neck prick. Arousal shot through you, starting between your thighs, but rising to make your breath hitch. 

Marjorie hopped off your desk and dashed into Sonny’s office. You stood to do so, as Rafael as he stalked by. Your eyes met once more.

“Good morning,” Rafael acknowledged curtly. You felt your cheeks burn and you gave him a small smile, before following Marjorie.

**

Lunch had rolled around. You rapped on Sonny’s door. “Hey - want to grab lunch with Marj and I?”

“Nah, can’t. Barba’s taking the Mickey Davis case on and I need to prep,” Sonny replied. He sighed before dropping his head into his hands, groaning.

You shut the door quickly behind you and moved to lower the blinds in his office. “Hey - talk to me. Barba was your mentor, right?”

Sonny looked up at you and nodded. “Yeah, he was. He was the best ADA here - I mean, he took on cases others dodged. He taught me so much. And now… it’s like jedi master and padawan here.”

You grimaced. “Sonny, don’t sell yourself short. You are an excellent lawyer and you’ve got the chops. If anything, he should be the one who’s worried.” 

Sonny guffawed in response. “Don’t quit ya’ day job, Y/N.”

You crossed your arms and cocked your brow. “Come on, pizza. On me. Let’s go.”

Sonny rolled his eyes and nodded. “Okay, okay. But not Marco’s. That place is not real Italian.”

“Whatever, pizza snob.” You laughed as you both walked out. 

**

Time flew by. Sonny was at voire dire and you chewed on your thumbnail waiting for him to return. You decided to throw yourself into work in an attempt to keep your mind otherwise occupied. 

When Sonny did eventually return, he looked defeated and worn. He shuffled back into his office, his shoulders hunched over. You waited a good minute before knocking on his office. 

“How'd it go at voir dire?” You asked softly, as you knocked on his door. Sonny was chugging pepto-bismol and he grimaced as he turned to you. “It was the Rafael Barba show, charming and cherry-picking jurors for twelve straight hours.”

“Yeah, the office mill said he was a dog with a bone.” You shrugged, pulling a chair out and sitting.

Sonny laughed. “Yeah. Now get this - I'm looking at his witness list, and he tracked down AJ’s other foster kids, ACS employees, VA shrinks. How big of a staff does he have?”

You shrugged again. “I don’t know.”

Sonny gave you a look. “Dollars to donuts, I think it’s my old squad - Rollins, Liv, and Fin helping him out.”

“You don’t know that.” You interjected.

“It's fine. Barba was here before me. I know where their loyalties are,” Sonny replied. 

“When's opening statements?” 

“A day from tomorrow.” Sonny replied. “Which means I will be here all night prepping.”

“Do you want any help?” You asked. 

“It’s fine - it’s late. You should go home. If there’s something, I’ll let you know.” 

You nodded and bid him a good night, before heading home.

** 

At home, you climbed into bed and tried to watch a repeat of your favorite procedural show but could not focus. You spent the entire commute home, replaying the events of earlier in the week when Rafael came by. He smelled so wonderful and when his eyes locked on yours, your heart skipped in a way that it hadn’t in a long time. Picturing his eyes… his beard… you became warm and a ripple of arousal coursed through you, causing the ache between your legs to intensify. You had a drawer full of toys that you knew you would help, but sometimes, your own fingers were best – you knew you better than any other toy could. You slipped your fingers down your sleep shorts and under the waistband of your underwear. It didn’t take much – as you suspected it would not – and when you came, it was Rafael’s name that escaped from your lips. The ache lessened – and, for now, it was enough.

**

Time flew and before you knew it, the case was winding up - or so you heard through the grapevine. That office leaked like a sieve. Your phone buzzed loudly one morning. You groaned and looked at the clock - you still had twenty minutes of sleep left. Yawning, you sat up and rubbed your eyes awake.

[Marjorie: Come meet us at court - closing arguments on the Davis case and we are all going down to root for Sonny]

You quickly wrote back: who’s we?

[Marjorie: A few of us from 8th. Come on!]

You bit your bottom lip and then hit two little letters: ok. You quickly showered, threw on your pants and an oversized sweater. You grabbed a pair of wedges and made your way uptown.

**

The case was intense and heated. Emotions were rising. You fidgeted in your seat as Sonny faced off with Rafael. In the end, the jury deliberated in six hours and found Mickey Davis guilty. He was charged with manslaughter two.

Sonny caught up with the group from the eighth floor in the gallery who all congratulated him on his big win. You half-listened and half kept an eye on Rafael, who was busy gathering his paperwork. He looked handsome in his black bespoke suit, now cleanly shaven.  You frowned - the beard suited him. But it didn’t temper his handsomeness; with or without, it was as if he made your eyes burn. It also appeared to have turned him into a real-life Benjamin Button, so to speak. He appeared much younger than he did when he did that day in One Hogan Place.

Rafael turned again, and his eyes scanned the group in the back before his eyes settled on yours once more. You ducked your head, feeling embarrassed at having been caught and when you looked up at him, a smile had graced his face.

He began to head your way, tucking his briefcase under his arm. Your heart began to race and your palms were sweaty. You wracked your brain for a reason to leave but couldn’t come up with anything. And then Rafael was in front of you.

“Hi - you’re Carisi’s colleague?” Rafael asked as you were now afforded a close-up view. His eyes were the most intense seafoam green and you knew if allowed, you would drown in them. 

“Uh - yes. My name is Y/F/N Y/L/N. I am a junior ADA.” You tripped over your words, feeling your cheeks burn. What was it about this man that renders me into a bumbling fool? you thought.

“Rafael Barba.” Rafael extended his hand and you took it, shaking it.

“Pleasure.”

“No, that’s all mine.” His eyes crinkled and a small smile graced his face. You felt your cheeks burn once more.

Sonny turned away from the group and faced you and Rafael. “We’re going to Rudy’s for a beer. Want to come? The squad is going to come.”

Rafael opened his mouth and paused, looking over at you. Feeling put on the spot, you nodded, going along. “Sure - a beer would be great.” You then turned to look at Rafael. “Coming with?”

Rafael nodded - wanting nothing more than to spend time with you - this creature who had enchanted him. He had to admit, he had hoped to see you more - but in his head, that meant an impromptu visit to the DA’s office, where he wasn’t necessarily well received any longer. Or, it meant asking Carisi - and he didn’t want to be grilled by the former detective. You were young - younger than him of course, but he couldn’t imagine you were that much younger - and at the same time he did not want to seem like a cradle robbing perv. The group dispersed outside, braving the elements of New York City. It was biting cold - the coldest day of the year - and the wind whipped around something wicked. You rubbed your gloved hands together as you all headed to Rudy’s. You and Rafael hung back, following the group, but at the same time, both knowing the route, having made the trek many times prior. 

“So how long have you been with the DA’s office?” Rafael asked. Small, misty clouds emitted from your breaths as you chit-chatted. 

“Two years. I was originally in Brooklyn, but I requested a lateral move.” You replied. 

“That’s where I started too.” Rafael replied. A taxicab approached and Rafael waved his hand up and across from you, signaling to the car to slow down so that you two could cross. You didn’t miss how his hand cradled your back gently as you both crossed the street to the bar. Yout stomach flip-flopped in response.

**

The bar was empty, save for the group. Large colorful bulbs hung throughout, keeping in theme with the upcoming holiday. At the hightops, each table was outfitted with a miniature wreath with a candle in the middle. After a while, the squad from SVU also joined and everyone toasted Sonny on his victory. The corners of your lips twitched as Rafael said “To irony,” at Sonny’s response that they were just back where they started.

Rafael was engrossed in a conversation with Sonny’s former squad, and you watched him intently. You played with your napkin and wondered more about him and who he was. Sure, you had heard about the Householder case and how the prosecutor was acquitted - and sure, you had read some of his court briefs. But you had never thought in a million years that you would be so close to him. Many other former ADAs came to visit, but Rafael Barba never did. He had essentially dodged the office for years. You didn’t hear much of him, only in passing from Sonny while you were both in Fordham.

Hours went by, many drinks had been had. One by one, the group had dispersed, until it was just you, Sonny, Amanda, and Rafael. You all decided to move to a booth. You were slightly unsteady, having had too many glasses of wine and very little to eat. You knew in the morning you would be paying the price.

“Water for Y/N and fries for the table.” Amanda announced as she slid the food to the middle of the table, and the water towards you. 

You plucked a fry from the table and tried to focus on what Amanda was talking about. Sonny made a quip and everyone laughed. You used the opportunity to sneak another glance towards Rafael. His sleeves were rolled up, showing off his well defined forearms. A sole finger traced the rim of his lowball glass, which was half-full. Your eyes were drawn to the Rolex on his wrist and you noticed the time.

“Oh, it’s late - I should get going,” you remarked, as you pulled Rafael’s arm close to your face, looking at the time more closely. “Sorry,” you murmur, releasing his arm. You stand and wobble once more, and Rafael stands, catching you. 

“Good idea; it is late,” Rafael replied. “Let me just close out the tab.” Amanda and Sonny protested as they reached for their wallets and Rafael waved them off. 

“I can go home with you honey.” Amanda offered. 

You shook your head. “I’m fine.”

“Y/N, you know better than that; someone should go with you.” Sonny replied. “Amanda and I can.”

“Sonny you’re all the way uptown - I am all the way downtown. It’ll be fine.” You argued as you put your coat on.

Rafael returned, placing his wallet on the table momentarily. “What’s fine?”

“Me. Going home solo,” you replied. “But Amanda and Sonny think--”

“That you had too much to drink.” Sonny cut you off. “It’s not safe.”

“Sonny.” You pinched the bridge of your nose and you found yourself growing more impatient. “I am a big girl - I will send you a text when I get home.”

“Where’s home?” Rafael asked curiously. 

“Brooklyn.” Sonny and you replied at the same time.

“Sonny’s right - someone should take you home.” Rafael countered. 

“What if Barba takes you home?” Amanda asked, as she slipped her hat on. “Barba lives downtown - you don’t mind, do you counselor?”

“Not at all.” Rafael replied. “If that’s okay with Y/N.”

You sucked your bottom lip in. “Okay; Barba wins.”

“Great. Barba takes Y/N home and I’ll head up with Amanda,” Sonny declared.

**

The cab hadn’t even been going for ten minutes when Rafael found you asleep, resting your head on his shoulder. He didn’t want to move you - lest you lean on the glass and knock your head if the cab hit a pothole. He watched as the city blurred past him, a mix of lights and colors. You let out a small moan and snuggled closer to Rafael. Rafael threw his head back, resting against the headrest and let out a sigh.

The trip to Brooklyn was uneventful as there was little traffic and soon the cab pulled up outside the brownstone that was home to you. He nudged you softly, stirring you awake. 

“We’re at your place.” He murmured and you smiled sleepily at him.

“Walk me to my door?” You asked, stifling a small yawn. Rafael nodded and requested the cab to keep the meter running. You grabbed your keys to unlock the door and turned to face him. You thanked him for going out of his way to accompany you home and Rafael gave you a small nod, telling you it was no big deal - better to be safe. He licked his lips and you felt a rush of bravery course through you - you’d later realize that was the alcohol - and did what was, up until then, a figment of your imagination.

You curled your fingers into his hair, since he was sans beard, and pulled him in for a kiss. Rafael was initially taken aback, freezing in place, but then he deepened the kiss. You moaned into his mouth, which he took as an invitation to deepen the kiss and slide his tongue into your mouth.  His strong arms, closed around your back and pulled you tightly against him. You continued kissing for what seemed like eternity, but was only mere moments, when Rafael pulled away. 

“I’m sorry.” He blurted. “You’re drunk. You can’t consent. I should not have done that.” He took a step back, regret was etched on his face.

Your face burned with embarrassment. “It’s fine. I … should go. Good night, Rafael.” You mumbled before unlocking the door and darting inside, not bothering to look back. 

Rafael groaned, rubbing his hands with his face. It felt so wonderful to kiss you - but it was under all the wrong circumstances. He headed back to the cab and went home, replaying the kiss over and over in his mind, as if it were an endless loop. 

He knew what he had to do. 

Imagine your surprise when the following morning, when you headed into the office to put in some overtime, there was an email from one formerly disgraced ADA in your mailbox - asking you out for dinner.

You took a large drag of your coffee and then hit reply. 

TBC.

***

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[hufflepuffhollander]

the photoshoot: tom holland imagine

a/n | i got this idea from a facebook post i saw and ran with it! i’ve never included a photo story in my writing so i hope i didn’t botch it! my WIPs are all pretty angsty so i figured i’d fluff it up a little for y’all (also this gif amirite)

summary | you are picked for a social experiment: a couples’ photoshoot where you don’t meet the person you’re posing with until the beginning of the session.

tom x fem reader | contains fluff, fluff, and more fluff | word count: 2.1k | enjoy!

“My god, just pick a dress, y/n. We’ve been here for hours.”

Your friend stood with her arms crossed as you studied yourself in the dressing room mirror, making faces of content then unrest, unsure if this dress was the one to go with- or if it could’ve been any of the last 15 you’d tried on.

“I can’t decide, maybe I just need to go through them again-”

“No!” your friend said, grabbing the pile of hanged clothes off of the hook on the wall and holding them out of your reach. “You’re overthinking this, it’s just a photoshoot! You don’t even know the guy! And the one you have on is obviously the best choice.”

You turned back to the mirror and stared at the starchy white fabric of the dress, its eyelet lace design making it a tight fit that accentuate your curves. You sighed in resignation. “Fine. But if the pictures come out and I look like a ghost, I’m blaming you.”

You took the outfit home and laid it out in preparation for tomorrow, kicking yourself for having signed up for this in the first place. After a long week, you only wanted to stay in your sweatpants in bed tomorrow instead of getting all dolled up to go take photos in cliche poses with a total stranger. You sent your friend a passive aggressive text about it, since she was the one who made you sign up for the ‘social experiment’, and all you received back was an annoyingly curt “you’ll thank me later”. You threw your phone aside and went to bed early, crossing your fingers that tomorrow would go by as quickly as possible. 

You arrived to the shoot location the next day- a vineyard an hour away that you got turned around twice trying to find. Once you stepped out of the car, the photographer came to greet you, a friendly woman in her mid thirties wearing all black and a massive camera swinging around her neck like an oversized necklace.

“Ah, y/n, thank you so much for coming! It seems like your partner is running a little behind, so we’ll just have to wait for a few,” she smiled bleakly, running away to ridicule one of the men setting up the reflective umbrellas.

“We want to capture the people, not the sun, Nicholas.”

You leaned against your car already annoyed at your partner for failing to show up. You had woken up two hours early to curl your hair and do a full face of makeup, and this is how you get rewarded? You swore up and down that you’d smack your friend when you saw her later. The photographer, whose name you learned was Karen—typical—brought you into a tangle of grapevines to test the lighting and shoot some practice photos. You were already horribly uncomfortable when it was just you standing alone, and couldn’t imagine how much worse it would be when another clueless anti-model had to pose next to you.

“Doll, just put your hand on your hip, like this-

“Well no, not like that—uh, Nicholas, can you go pose her?

“Just smile, dear. You look...really unhappy.”

It was nightmarish. 

You were saved by the bell as another car pulled into the lot and a guy of average height wearing a crisp blazer stepped out, wearing the snobbiest looking pair of wayfarers you’d ever seen. 

“Oh, great! Tom’s here,” Karen cheered, happy to rush away from the agonizing one-on-one session you’d just had. You looked at Nicholas, trying again to fix the umbrella.

“Tom?” you asked, and he just nodded. 

“Yeah, Tom Holland. Don’t know how she managed to get an A-lister out here for this, but that’s Karen,” he responded, walking away.

Wait, what?

Karen waltzed back over to you with him in tow, a smile plastered on her face so big you thought the one she flashed you earliest must’ve been entirely insincere.

“Great! Here we are! y/n, this is Tom,” she said, pushing him forward to stand in front of you. He gave you a bright smile and stuck out his hand.

“Pleasure to meet you, love.”

You shook his hand without speaking because you literally had forgotten how to breathe. This was your stranger? You’d had the biggest, most incurable crush on Tom Holland since you were a teenager, and all of your social skills that you’d picked up as an adult had clearly just evaporated in the sun.

“Uh, hi-” Karen and Tom shared a laugh at your starstruck expression. “Sorry, do you two know each other?”

“Yeah, Karen and I go way back,” Tom said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and squeezing her tight. “She taught me how to model.”

“Well, it’s not hard when you have this face to work with!” She pinched Tom’s cheeks and grinned, then looked you up and down, reminding you with a glance how hard it had been just to get you to smile for the camera without looking deranged. Ouch, Karen.

“Okay, well, let’s get started then,” she skipped off back to the rows of vines lining the field and Tom ushered you with his hand. “After you,” he smiled. 

You tried not to stumble over your heels stepping in the uneven earth below you, and Karen brought the camera up to her face with a squeal. “Alright, sweeties, let’s make the camera think you’re falling in love!” Karen, you decided, was an extremely over-the-top human. “This is your meet cute. You’re just seeing each other for the first time. Make it sparkle.”

That was all she gave you direction-wise, and you and Tom just stood staring at each other a few feet apart as the camera started clicking. The shade of your cheeks made it look like you’d just run a marathon and you just started giggling out of sheer nerve, making Tom start to work up a laugh, too. 

“She’s a bit much, isn’t she?” he motioned with his eyes so Karen couldn’t pick up on his comment.

“I don’t even know what she wants me to do.” you said, concentrating on a bushel of grapes instead of Tom’s dreamy face because you were worried if you spent more than three seconds looking into his eyes, you’d pass out cold.

“Well I’m basically a pro at this, so let me help you, okay?” he said, reaching out for your hand again. You took it as your heart did somersaults in your chest, and as he exclaimed “ooh, nice nails”, you genuinely smiled, giving Karen exactly the shot she wanted. 

Your hand was shaking, and he gave it a gentle squeeze. “Why are you so nervous?”

“Why wouldn’t I be? I’m absolutely clueless!”

Tom shrugged and looked off to the side. “Well, you said it, not me...”

You gasped and feigned offense, whipping your hand out of his. “How dare you!”

He laughed and tried to take your hand again, but you dramatically swiped your arm out of his reach, and the camera picked up a series of shots that made it look like you and Tom were playing ninja. 

“Uh, what are we doin’ here, folks?” Karen questioned as you and Tom ran in circles around one another, him trying to get at your hands and you doing everything in your power not to let it happen. Your nerves melted away as the endorphins kicked in. Eventually Tom gave up and decided to grab hold of you, pick you up and twirl you around, in the chaos yelling “We need to please the Karen!”. You were laughing and out of breath from running around, and you slowly lowered your head to his, the look in his eyes reading that he was about to kiss you...

“That was amazing!” Karen squealed, shaking you from Tom’s mesmerizing stare, pushing the moment past you. Tom let you down to the ground, both of you shocked that he’d made such a bold move in the first place. He wiped his hands on the legs of his pants and cleared his throat as you fiddled with some of the curls that had come loose around your face. Karen couldn’t be happier; the money shot came out looking like a magazine ad.

 Tom gave you a sheepish smile. “Uh, sorry if that was too-”

“It wasn’t,” you batted your lashes at him and could’ve sworn his cheeks were tinted just as pink as yours.

Karen’s loud voice pitched in as you had ended up standing still, a photographer’s worst nightmare.

“Okay, so we’ve met, now show me that chemistry!” she shouted, getting an eye roll from you and a snicker from Tom at your reaction. 

“Is she expecting us to fall madly in love now that we’ve known each other for more than five minutes?” you asked, fluffing out the skirt of your dress.

“Weirder things have happened,” Tom shrugged his shoulders and winked at you before turning around and walking towards a cluster of vines, picking off a grape and popping in his mouth with a satisfying crunch.

“Oh, are we allowed to eat them? I’m dying out here in the sun!” You followed his pattern and picked a few grapes out of the brambles, noticing a few rows away that there was a small table with two glasses and a bottle of wine. Tom followed your gaze to the alcohol and looked back at you, his expression reflecting exactly what you were thinking.

“Can I buy you a drink?” he smirked.

You collectively ignored Karen’s remarks as you wandered to the table and filled the glasses.

“Are we sure this is here for us?” you looked around skeptically. 

“I have no idea, darling. Cheers.”

You sat down in the grass and clinked the flutes together, still unable to believe this was really happening to you. You and Tom started to talk about nothing, already feeling a thousand times more comfortable around each other, bonding over this shared weird experience—and the fresh off-the-vine wine certainly didn’t hesitate to calm your nerves.

As Tom was leaning closer to you, gaze notably flicking from your eyes to your lips, Karen snuck up to you—pretending to be a grape?—and snapped photos of your impromptu picnic. 

“Just adorable,” she murmured, and you almost spilled your wine because of how startled you were. Damnit, Karen, you keep ruining the moment. But she didn’t think twice about the interruption; she almost had tears in her eyes because of how perfect the shots were.

You both sat up and away from one another, feeling stiff now that a lens was pointed at you.

“Well, don’t stop on my account!” she chortled, wholly unaware her debut was what killed the vibe.

Tom stood up and offered his hand to help you stand, not immediately letting it go as you wandered to a different part of the sunny vineyard. You pushed the photographer out of your mind as you chatted again, bumping each other’s shoulders as you walked and not minding it a bit. Every time you saw a certain glint in Tom’s eyes, any moment he caught you looking, there could’ve been a spark there that ignited something more. But you were constantly interrupted by shutter clicks, yells at Nicholas, and annoying directing interjections by the appropriately-named Karen.

At one point, Tom had clearly had enough of the pestering, and took your hand, pulling you into an array of closely packed trees so you couldn’t be found. 

“Woah- what are you doing?” you asked, confused at the sudden change of scenery.

“Guys? Where did you go?” You heard a shrill voice coming from outside the trees, and Tom attempted to shush you by pulling you close into his body and covering half your face with his hand. 

“Shut up shut up shut-”

You heard Karen’s voice grow quieter as she searched in the opposite direction.

“Tom!” you chuckled, prying his fingers off of your cheek. “You’re going to smear my makeup!”

“It’s not like you need it, y/n,” he said without thinking, attention still focused on hiding.

Your whole face grew hot and you couldn’t help but smile like a complete fool. When he looked down at your reaction, he noticed the weight in what he’d said, and made the cutest giggle you’d ever heard, trying to avert the focus from his compliment.

“Sorry, I just couldn’t handle another photo directive being shouted in my ear,” he breathed while pushing his hair back out of his eyes in some devilishly handsome way. You were still clutching the hand that had been on your face, and Tom looked down to interlock his fingers with yours.

“You do know we’re at a photoshoot, right?”

He playfully shoved your shoulder with his free hand at your sassy comment.

“Just saying, I thought you were a pro-”

You heard the photographer’s voice come into the foreground again and you abruptly ran as fast as you could with heels on, still holding Tom’s hand as you trailed behind him. You found yourselves in an even more tightly packed bramble of trees, facing each other with barely a grapevine’s width between you. 

“Oh, you have a stick in your hair,” you whispered, reaching up to pick a tiny branch out of his curls. As you looked from his hair to his eyes, he was staring deeply into yours, prompting you to leave your hand resting at the back of his neck. 

Wordlessly, he leaned in and kissed you in one fell swoop, and you thought you might implode on the spot when his lips came in contact with your own. He tasted like cologne and crisp grape juice and it was a mixture of scents you hoped would never leave your nose—just the way he kissed you so sweetly made you want to bathe in the stuff.

When he pulled back, he brought your intertwined fingers up to cup your cheek, and you let your hand rest on the back of his as you tilted your head to instigate another kiss, still enjoyably dizzied from the one before. 

Tom let his mouth linger over yours after another long kiss before coming up for air again, and you could see his eyes wrinkling at the corners, knowing he was smiling without being able to see the rest of his face.

“You know, I was hesitant to do the whole ‘stranger photoshoot’ thing, but now I’m pretty happy I was able to be convinced.” He sighed contently.

“This was more of a stranger hide-and-go-seek than a photoshoot, I feel like,” you spoke from your lighthearted chest in airy breaths and moved to lock lips again, unable to get enough of your stranger. He put his hand on the small of your back and leaned you backward, deepening the already electric hold he had on you.

“I don’t want you to be a stranger anymore, darling,” he mumbled against you, sending vibrations through you with his voice. You just whispered a soft “okay”, lost for words, as his mouth touched your cheek, your jaw, and then back to your lips for more of your wine-infused kisses. You were wishing this moment could last forever, Tom holding you and sending shivers down your spine, right as you heard a click and saw the bright white flash of a bulb. 

“Jesus, Karen!”

But she didn’t care that you were mad; her experiment had worked, she’d gotten her strangers together—and just look at that shot.

[atlfics]

Worth the Wait- All Time Low Fanfiction

Jack sneaks out of school to take care of his long time crush, Alex. High School AU. Word Count: 4733

More notes at the end. 

“Jack, have you seen Alex? He usually gets here before you do, right?” Zack asked Jack as he took a seat on the bench in the quad they always occupied before school officially started for the day.

“I haven’t seen him, his car wasn’t in the lot, either. I hope he’s okay,” Jack replied, his sudden concern making Rian laugh.

“Dude, when are you going to man up and tell Alex that you like him? You’ve had a monster crush on him for, what, over a year now, right?” Rian asked, making Jack shove him as he held a finger in front of his mouth with wide eyes.

“Will you keep it down? We don’t need to let the whole school know about that, it’ll increase the likelihood of it getting back to Alex!” Jack exclaimed, a serious look on his face.

“I mean, wouldn’t that kind of be a good thing? Like, you’re clearly too scared to make the first move, maybe he should hear it through the grapevine and do something first,” Zack pointed out, making Jack roll his eyes.

“Zack’s got a point, dude. You’ve been carrying around this secret crush for the longest time now, you really should say something so you don’t have to keep torturing yourself about it,” Rian added.

“No, I don’t want to ruin our friendship if he doesn’t feel the same way,” Jack sternly stated.

“Well, he’s bi, and he’s always all over you, so I think him liking you back is a reasonable assumption,” Rian continued.

“It’s not worth the risk,” Jack said back.

“So, is it worth torturing yourself, then?” Rian countered.

“Why are we even talking about this? How did you guys ganging up on me even become a thing?”

“We’re not trying to gang up on you, we’re trying to help you, dude. Also, since he isn’t here, now is a great time to talk about Alex and that huge crush you have on him,” Zack smugly replied.

“You motherf-“ Jack started, before getting cut off by the five minute warning bell.

“Damn, I had a few more one-liners planned! Oh well, they’ll have to wait until lunch, assuming Alex doesn’t show up,” Rian said, laughing as Jack rolled his eyes yet again.

“Fuck you guys, I’ll see you in a few hours,” Jack said, standing up and putting his backpack on.

“Sounds good, lover boy,” Zack said, laughing with Rian as they walked off to their first shared class.

Jack went in the opposite direction to get to the precalculus class that he normally had with Alex. He really hoped that Alex would show up right on time, having to suffer through it alone was torture; Alex really did make everything better.

When he got to the classroom, most of the other students were already in their seats, talking about the previous night’s homework. Jack took his seat, noticing that Alex’s next to him was empty. After waiting a couple more minutes, Jack decided to text his friend and see what was going on.

Jack: Hey dude, you coming to school today?

Jack stared at his screen, waiting for a reply. Not much later, the teacher walked in and started class, so Jack put his phone at the top right corner of his desk, and pulled out his notebook. The lesson was on trigonometry, but Jack couldn’t have cared less about the different formulas, his mind was stuck on Alex. He of course wondered why Alex wasn’t in class, but he also thought about what Rian and Zack had said in the quad earlier.

He’d known Alex for four years now, but for the past year, he’d been head over heels in love with him. Jack wasn’t sure how his crush developed, but every time he was around Alex, he just felt happier and safe; no other friend had ever made him feel like this before. He had wanted to tell Alex about how he felt, but the possibility of ruining their friendship scared Jack, if Alex didn’t feel the same way and learned that Jack had a massive crush on him, would it scare him off? Would everything between the two of them become awkward and changed forever? Jack didn’t know, but these questions were enough to scare him into saying nothing and pretending his crush didn’t exist.

He hadn’t told Rian and Zack about his feelings, they’d figured it out on their own, and Jack had made them promise that they’d never tell Alex, which they agreed to, knowing that if Alex ever did find out, it should be from Jack. His thoughts shifted from his crush on Alex to wondering about where Alex was, he hoped that Alex was okay, wherever he was, and he hoped that he’d get a text back soon.

About halfway through first period, Jack’s phone vibrated, and he did his best to discreetly grab it and look at it without his teacher noticing.

Alex: No, I’m like really sick :/

Jack instantly felt bad, he knew that whenever Alex was under the weather, it was never something simple, it was always miserable.

Jack: Sorry to hear that man :( are you okay?

Alex: Not really, I don’t think I’ve ever been this sick. My parents are still out of town too which sucks

Jack: Maybe I can sneak out of here at lunch and come hang with you

Alex: You don’t have to commit truancy for me lol, plus I’m disgusting and look awful rn, idk if you’d really want to be around me

Jack: I bet you still look great, you motherfucker. Get some rest for now and I’ll text closer to lunch

Alex: You’re too good to me, JB

Jack smiled as he turned his phone off and put it back on the corner of his desk. He knew he was definitely going to be sneaking out at lunch, and he decided that he’d stop at the store on his way to Alex’s to get a few things that would hopefully cheer him up some.

If he could have everything his way, he’d get up and walk out of the school building right now, but he was pretty confident that his math teacher wouldn’t take too kindly to him doing that. For the remainder of first period, Jack genuinely tried his hardest to pay attention to the lesson, but he couldn’t get his mind off Alex; he was concerned that he was seemingly so sick and all alone, but he knew that obsessing over this wouldn’t make lunch time arrive any faster.

Eventually, first period finally ended and second began, leading to third and fourth, too. Throughout all of his classes, Jack’s mind wandered back to Alex, even though he was probably miserable, Jack was still beyond excited to spend the day with him. He really enjoyed doing things for others, and he thought that this would be the perfect opportunity to do just that for Alex.

The only concern he had was that Alex’s vulnerability from being sick might rub off on him and make him feel vulnerable enough to confess his feelings. Maybe Rian and Zack were right, maybe he should just tell Alex how he felt, there was theoretically a chance that Alex felt the same way. As much as Jack wanted to arrive at Alex’s and confess everything so they could spend the rest of the day snuggled up, he knew he shouldn’t do that. Of course, he wasn’t saying he wouldn’t confess his feelings, but he had to be careful and only do so if it felt right.

After three long hours, it was finally lunch time, and Jack figured that he should head over to their usual lunch table to let Rian and Zack know what he was doing before sneaking out. When he got to the table, Rian and Zack were already there, talking about their upcoming physics exam. Jack figured he had some sort of distressed look on his face, because the two of them immediately stopped talking and looked concerned once they saw Jack.

“Guys, I’m going to do something that I might need your help covering for,” Jack said, taking a seat across from his friends.




“You’re going over to Alex’s, aren’t you?” Zack asked, laughing some.

“How did you know?” Jack questioned, a tone of genuine surprise in his voice.

“Jack, what else would you be so passionate about after four classes? Surely it isn’t your homework or upcoming exams,” Rian continued, making Jack roll his eyes.

“Okay, yes, you’re right, I’m going over to Alex’s. He texted with me some during first period, apparently he’s, like, super sick and his parents are out of town, so I want to help if I can,” Jack explained.

“Well, are you finally going to confess your feelings? Obviously you’re trying to do a nice thing, but we’re dudes, we don’t, like, take care of each other like that,” Zack pointed out, laughing some.

“I mean, I want to, I want to walk in and confess how I feel so we can spend the rest of the day cuddled up on the couch or his bed or whatever, but I’m still scared to. Also, I don’t want to make him uncomfortable since he’s already not feeling great,” Jack stated, as Rian and Zack nodded along.

“I guess you have a point, man. Personally, I think if there’s a moment that feels right, you should just do it. Like, it could really make his day, you never know. Plus, I think he likes you back, you’ve seen how he looks at you, right?” Rian said, taking a bite of his lunch.

“Don’t go putting ideas in my head, if that isn’t true, I’m going to be disappointed and mad at you, dude,” Jack warned, trying to sound serious.

“I agree with Rian, I think he likes you, too. You guys just have this, like, vibe, that I’ve only seen in people who like each other. Just go through with your plan, go to his place and spend some time with him, I’m sure he’ll appreciate the company regardless,” Zack assured, making a small smile appear on Jack’s face.

“Thanks, I appreciate your all’s advice; that’s what it was supposed to be, right?” Jack joked, laughing some.

“Well, some advice and some jokes, that might be more accurate. Hey, there’s only ten minutes left of lunch, if you want to get out of here, you’d better go,” Zack pointed out, looking at the time on his phone.

“Shit, you’re right, I didn’t realize it had gotten so late. Well, I guess if anything changes, like our relationship status, I’ll let you know,” Jack said, getting up and grabbing his car keys out of his pocket.

“Sounds good, just try to have a good time, dude. Regardless of what happens with the relationship shit, he’ll appreciate that you’re spending time with him,” Rian assured, catching Jack off guard.

“Woah, Rian being supportive and not being a sarcastic asshole? Are you feeling sick, too?” Jack questioned, earning a laugh from Zack and an eye roll from Rian.

“Yes, it’s support, now go before I start cracking jokes and making you feel more nervous,” Rian said in a mock-stern tone.

Jack smiled at his friends one last time before sneaking over to the back door of the cafeteria, the one that conveniently led to the student parking lot. After assuring that no staff were able to see him, Jack opened the door, then quickly bolted out and in the direction of his car. Luckily, no one had noticed him leave, and he breathed a sigh of relief when he got in his car and shut the door.

Jack quickly started up his car then drove off campus, in the direction of the nearby Target, he hoped that it would have everything he’d need for Alex. As he drove, he listened to his favorite songs and continued thinking about Alex, and what Zack and Rian had been telling him at lunch. The more he thought about it, the more Jack wanted to confess his feelings today, he knew it was risky, but he also knew that if Alex felt the same way, it would be so worth it.

His Target trip was quick, he’d grabbed Alex a bouquet of flowers to spruce up his room, a couple cans of his favorite soup, and a cute teddy bear that he thought Alex would get a kick out of. Once he had everything, he drove in the direction of Alex’s house, which luckily wasn’t too far away from where the Target was. He felt his nerves start to kick in more, and tried taking a deep breath to alleviate them to an extent. As he drove, Jack tried to eliminate any type of expectations he had for how this afternoon would go, he knew that would likely just result in him feeling hurt or disappointed. He just had to remember his primary goal, make sure Alex was okay, and do whatever he could to help him feel better.

Eventually, Jack got to Alex’s driveway and parked behind his car. He grabbed the things he’d gotten at Target, then made his way to the front door. Jack realized he’d never told Alex he was here, or even on the way, and the thought of making Alex get up from wherever he was made him feel bad. Deciding to try his luck before calling Alex, Jack twisted the knob of the door, and was very surprised to find it unlocked. He realized that Alex had probably gotten up and unlocked it when Jack had originally texted saying he’d come over, then he wouldn’t have to get up again later.

Jack stepped inside and went into the kitchen, he set the soup cans on the counter, then found a vase under the sink, and placed the flowers in it. After a couple deep breaths, Jack made his way upstairs and over to where Alex’s bedroom was. He could hear loud coughs coming from the other side, making him feel even more sympathy for his friend.

Once the coughing stopped, Jack lightly knocked on the door before walking into Alex’s room.

“Hey, how’re you doing, Alex?” Jack asked, making his way over to Alex’s bed.

The majority of the room wasn’t too messy, but the bed and Alex’s bedside table looked awful. There were used tissues everywhere, a pot from the kitchen that Jack figured Alex had brought up for an emergency, and different cups and medicine bottles everywhere. Alex was wrapped up in about three blankets and still shivering as he watched something on his TV.

“Oh, hey, Jack. I feel really awful, to be honest,” Alex replied, his voice raspy and congested.

“I’m sorry to hear that, you look pretty miserable. I got you some stuff that’ll hopefully make you feel better, though! There are two cans of your favorite soup in the kitchen, and I grabbed some flowers to brighten up your room! Oh, I also got you this,” Jack replied, setting the flowers down before reaching into the plastic bag to get out the teddy bear.

“This is cute! Thanks, Jack, this means a lot, I-“

Alex cut himself off by starting to cough again, forcing himself to sit up as he put his elbow to his mouth. Jack quickly took a seat on the bed next to Alex and rubbed his back as he coughed. Having his hand on Alex’s back made him realize how warm Alex felt, and he knew that having all of these blankets on him would be bad news in the long run, it would just make Alex’s fever worse.

Eventually, Alex finally calmed himself down and Jack helped ease him back into the spot he’d been laying in.

“Sorry, I didn’t realize that was coming until it hit me,”

“No need to apologize, it’s okay. Hey, you’re going to hate me for this, but I think you need to ditch at least one of these three blankets,”

“What? No way, I’m already freezing as it is!”

“Alex, you’re freezing because you have a fever; if you lower that fever some, your chills will go away. At the very least, they’ll be a lot more tolerable. Come on, let’s take the top one off for a bit and see if it does any good. Also, I’m taking your temperature,” Jack insisted, pulling a blanket off of a very resistant Alex.

“You sound like a mom,” Alex muttered, coughing some.

“Well, I’d rather be like a mom and help you than ignore it and have you get worse. Trust me, you’ll thank me later,”

Jack put the blanket on Alex’s desk chair so he wouldn’t grab it again, then walked into the bathroom to grab the thermometer from the medicine cabinet. When he got back to Alex’s room, Alex was blowing his nose.

“Okay, let’s see what this says. Have you taken your temperature at all since you got sick?”

Alex just shook his head as Jack stuck the thermometer under his mouth and shivered violently. Jack felt bad, he really didn’t want to take the blanket from his friend and make him feel more miserable, but Jack knew that he’d done the right thing. After a few seconds, the thermometer finally beeped, and Alex handed it to Jack, too out of it to read the number.

“101.7, damn, that’s kind of high, Alex. I’m glad we took that blanket off of you,” Jack said, setting the thermometer down as he sat on the side of the bed again.

“Jack, I’m fucking freezing,” Alex said with a sneeze.

“I know, but I promise when your fever goes down, you’ll start to feel better. Actually, I have an idea to lower it faster, one second!”

Jack quickly stood up then went back into the bathroom and grabbed a washcloth from the linen closet. He ran it under some cold water, rung out the excess water, then brought it back to Alex’s room.

“What’s that?” Alex asked, starting to tightly hug himself some to combat his chills.

“Put this on your forehead, I think it’ll get that fever lowered,”

Jack folded it some then went to place it on Alex’s head, only for him to flinch and cover his forehead with his hands.

“That thing is fucking cold, no way it’s going on my forehead,” Alex stated, doing his best to keep his hands on his forehead as Jack pulled on them.

“Alex, will you please just try it? You’ll feel so much better, I promise,”

“On one condition,”

“What would that be?” Jack asked, rolling his eyes.

“You have to lay here with me so I can take advantage of your body heat,”

“Okay fine, whatever it takes for you to stop being so stubborn,”

Jack finally placed the cloth on Alex’s forehead, making Alex shiver even more. After taking off his shoes, he laid down next to Alex and wrapped him into a hug.

“This is better,” Alex said, looking up at Jack.

Jack couldn’t believe it, Alex was insanely sick but somehow still managed to look perfect to him.

“Hey, are you good?” Alex eventually asked, pulling Jack from his thoughts.

“Oh yeah, um, I am, why do you ask?” Jack continued, hoping Alex wouldn’t think much of what had just happened.

“I mean, you were straight up staring at me for, like, a minute. I’m sick, not stupid, so I know that was kind of weird, even for you,”

“Oh, I guess I just zoned out, sorry,”

“Are you okay, dude?”

“I’m fine, but don’t worry about me, you’re the one who’s dying right now,”

“I mean, true, but I can tell something’s up, Jack. Actually, I’ve kind of been able to tell that for a while now,” Alex continued, sounding nervous but determined to make his point.

“What do you mean?” Jack asked, trying to play dumb.

“What do you mean what do I mean? Like, I’ve caught you staring at me multiple times lately, you seem a lot more invested in what I have to say, you brought me a whole care package just now. That’s more than just a friend would do, y’know?”

“Well, what’re you trying to say, Alex?”

“Jack, do you, um, see me as more than a friend?”

Jack’s heart immediately started beating ten times faster, and he felt his palms get sweaty. Alex was right, of course, but Jack had thought he’d done a great job at hiding how he felt from Alex, but apparently he hadn’t. As Jack searched for what to say next, he couldn’t help but wonder if Alex had figured out his secret because he’d been looking for it.

“Before I answer that, I have a question for you,” Jack replied, doing his best to keep his tone even.

“What? I already asked you something, you have to answer first, that’s how this works!” Alex exclaimed, coughing some.

“Not this time! Alex, are you asking me what you’re asking, because that’s what you’ve been looking for? Like, looking for clues about what you just asked?”

“Jack, I’m not answering until you do. I’ll sit here all day and wait, it’s not like I can do much else anyway,”

Despite how sick he was, Alex had a look of determination on his face, and Jack couldn’t deny it anymore. He’d promised himself, along with Zack and Rian, that if the opportunity to finally reveal his feelings to Alex presented itself, that he’d confess how he felt; maybe it was finally time to take a leap of faith.

“Okay, um, this is a bit nerve wracking for me, so be patient. Alex, yes, I do see you as more than a friend, and I have for a while now,” Jack finally replied, doing his best to take deep breaths and stay calm.

“Can you, like, give me more detail than that?” Alex asked, laughing some as he scooted closer to Jack.

“Sure, um, where do I start? Alex, I like you, like, I like-like you, and I have for about a year now. I don’t even know what made these feelings develop, like, we’ve been friends for four years, but sometime last year, a switch just flipped in me, and I woke up and realized that I was in love with you,” Jack confessed, feeling like a fifty pound weight had just been removed from his chest.

“You’ve liked me for that long, and this is just the first I’m hearing of it?”

“Yeah, but not because I wanted to keep it from you. Like, keeping this secret has been so fucking hard, like I’ll see you get lost in a song, or be super passionate about what you’re talking about, and it’s things like that that made me fall for you. I love literally everything about you, but I kept it to myself, because I didn’t want to ruin our friendship. Like, if you didn’t feel the same, I didn’t want shit to be awkward between us; you’re my best friend, I can’t just, like, lose you, y’know? I just didn’t want to put you in an uncomfortable position, but yeah, I’ve been head over heels for you for a long time now. Hey, you didn’t answer my question, were you looking for signs that I liked you?”

“Jack, I’m speechless, but in a good way, I promise. I guess you could say that I’ve been kind of hopeful that you’ve had these kinds of feelings, too. I like you too, Jack, like, I like-like you, and have for a decent amount of time now. I didn’t tell you for the same reasons, I didn’t want things to be weird if you didn’t feel the same way, I didn’t want to lose our friendship over weird feelings. This is so great, though, we both like each other like this! Where do we go from here?” Alex asked, before bursting into a coughing fit.

Jack quickly helped Alex sit up some in his bed, then rubbed his back until he finally calmed himself down. Once Alex could breathe again, Jack handed Alex a glass of water from his nightstand, and Alex took a sip before handing it back to Jack.

“Are you okay, Alex?” Jack gently asked, still rubbing Alex’s back some.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I mean, that hurt like a bitch, but I’ll live. Back to my question, though; where do we go from here?” Alex continued, looking up at Jack with a small smile.

“I think there’s only one logical thing I can ask now. Alex, do you want to be my boyfriend?”

Even though he knew they both felt the same way, Jack was still nervous to officially ask Alex out. He had all of the assurance in the world from the conversation he’d just shared with Alex, but a year of anxiety and fear of someone finding out his secret would be hard to change.

“Yes, Jack, I’d love to be your boyfriend,”

The two of them looked at each other, huge smiles on both of their faces. Jack wrapped Alex into a tight hug, rubbing his back with one hand and stroking his hair with the other as the huge smile stayed on his face. Alex was still insanely sweaty, but Jack didn’t care, nothing would ruin this moment for the two of them.

After a few minutes, Alex pulled back to sneeze, but then looked up at Jack again, a huge smile still plastered on his face.

“I can’t believe we just became a thing while I look disgusting and feel miserable,” Alex said in a tone that Jack recognized as partly sarcastic with a hint of truth.

“You don’t look disgusting, babe. Hey, can I call you that now?” Jack asked, making their smiles grow even bigger.

“Of course, you can call me any cute nickname you want, I’ll definitely do the same, baby,”

“That sounds perfect to me. I meant what I said, though, you don’t look disgusting. You’re knocking on death’s door but still look absolutely perfect, I don’t know how you do it! As far as you feeling miserable, though, what can I do to help?”

“Honestly, you just being here helps so much. Do you think we could lay down, and I could put my head on your chest? I might fall asleep eventually, but I just want to be close to you,”

“Absolutely, lay however you’re the most comfortable,”

The two of them laid back down in Alex’s bed, and Alex put his head onto Jack’s chest, and Jack wrapped Alex into a hug.

“This is perfect,” Alex said, Jack could hear the smile on Alex’s face as he spoke.

“I’m so glad to hear that, let me know if there’s anything else I can do for you. I can’t believe this is really happening, I’ve wanted this for so, so long,” Jack breathlessly said, bringing his other hand up to start stroking Alex’s hair again.

“Me either, Jack. When I wake up, you might have to tell me about this, I’ll probably think it was a fever induced delusion,” Alex joked, making them both laugh some.

“I’ll tell you as much as you want, I’ll tell everyone all the time that the Alex Gaskarth is my boyfriend,” Jack affectionately replied, placing a kiss on Alex’s forehead.

“You’re sweet, Jack. When I’m better, we’re going on a real date to celebrate this,”

“Oh, for sure, but for now, you need to focus on resting and getting better. I’ll be here for however long you want me to be to help you, okay?”

“That sounds great to me. I think I’m going to sleep for a bit now,” Alex continued, hugging Jack tighter and closing his eyes.

“Okay, babe, I’ll be here if you need me,” Jack replied, continuing to stroke Alex’s hair.

After a few minutes, Alex was fast asleep, lightly snoring due to the congestion in his sinuses. Jack stared out Alex’s bedroom window, the huge smile still plastered on his face. He couldn’t believe it, Alex was really his boyfriend now; it almost felt too good to be true. Waiting for so long hadn’t been easy, but Jack had no doubt in his mind that this new chapter in both of their lives will have been worth the wait.  

Hi guys! I posted something similar to this forever ago, but I wrote this semi recently and liked it more than I expected to, so I decided to share it! I can't believe I'm only seven fics away from having 300 posted! It blows my mind that I have so many up, and that after all this time, people still seem to enjoy them! I plan on having a new chapter of LBUA up fairly soon, and another one shot! As always, feel free to send in requests, I'd love to write your all's ideas! -Liv