#and as i was going in the station SOME GUY BLASTS A SPEAKER right next to my ear to say ''LOVE JESUS YOU SHOULD BELIEVE IN JESUS''

[kurapikaschai]

having a weird day y'all 🥶

[civilgroupie-gvf]

The Boy In The Band

CHAPTER 4 

Summary: A lot of fluff, but ends with smut. Josh takes you kayaking and snorkeling. You guys share a passionate night, in the bungalow, that neither of you will ever forget. 

~~~

In the stillness of the morning, you witnessed the ocean waves and wild life sounds that surrounded you in Tulum Mexico. Uninterrupted, and untainted by people.

You decided to get up and make coffee.

As you walked up to the kitchenette, you noticed loose lined paper lying in many forms on (and around) the breakfast nook table. Some crumbled up into tight balls, and some folded, and some simply on the floor. There was one paper that was laid neatly on the center of the table however. The pencil still laying on it, just as the writer had left it. You picked it up and tried to make sense of all the scribbled words. As you started to understand Josh’s interpretation of letters, you started to decode what felt like a secret message.

“Your mind is a stream of colors

Extending beyond our sky

A land of infinite wonders

A billion lightyears from here now “

It was signed at the bottom “J.M.K.”

You let the beauty of that moment sink in. It felt like magic in the silence of Josh’s sleeping, and the water outside. It felt like he was somehow experiencing it with you, from beyond the spirit-dream realm.

You made coffee and enjoyed it on the balcony, overlooking the ocean and the sky. You had enjoyed the alone time but were pleased to hear the bed ruffling with the sound of Josh waking up. He eventually appeared next to you, shirtless in navy blue boxer briefs rubbing his bare chest, squinting at the brightness outside.

“Hey” His morning voice was raspy. You got butterflies when you noticed he was giving you a side smile.

“Good morning.” You said turning to hug him. He put his arm around your shoulders and you both unspokenly agreed to stand quietly in the hypnotic sounds of the crashing waves. A few moments later you softly mentioned you had made a pot of coffee. You both went inside and enjoyed coffee and breakfast. Josh picked up all the paper, tossing some into the garbage and saving some of the folded ones. You noticed he was more careful with the page with the poem you read. He put it in between the pages of a spiral notebook next to his bed. 

You smeared jam onto a slice of toasted white bread. Josh was messing with the very old radio on the kitchen counter, trying to find a good rock station.  More birds began to screech and chirp as the little town began to wake up. You enjoyed the crunch you made as you bit down into the warm strawberry goodness.

“I liked the poem you wrote.” You said mid chew. 

“Oh you saw that?” He sounded bashful. He was turned away from you changing radio stations quickly. “Yeah I woke up early, it was still dark and I was just thinking. I couldn’t go back to sleep so I had to put my thoughts on paper.” he said.  

“It’s really good.” You said and took a sip of coffee.

“It’s for a song. It’s this beautiful soft melody with a lot of piano. It’s so tender I was having trouble writing lyrics for it. I guess I get intimidated sometimes because I want my writing to match the depth that the music has.”

You nodded to signal you understood. You enjoyed the vitality of Josh’s personality but were excited to discover that morning Josh was softer, more gentle, and pensive. You felt relieved that silence wasn’t awkward between the two of you. You were together without having to speak. 

~~~ 

“Do you want to Kayak or snorkel first?” Josh shouted over the noise of a topless Jeep Wrangler running through jungle, and “Rock and Roll Hoochie Koo” by Rick Derringer blasted through the speakers. 

“Kayak!” You shouted. Your hair was flying and whipping behind your head. So were the beautiful brown curls next to you. You felt like you were in a movie, the air was clean and you welcomed it into your lungs as you held onto Josh’s right thigh. The bumpy road required both of his hands, but he put your hand on him. He said because he ‘wanted you close’, and he didn’t have to tell you twice. 

Once you arrived at the Kayak rental, the sun was up and out. You took turns putting sun screen on each other and walked barefoot to a small hut with dozens of yellow kayaks lined outside. 

You had been Kayaking before but never in Mexico with Josh Kiszka. 

“I love Nature. Nature rules.” Josh said as you were finally settled in the kayak.

“YEAH!!!!!” Josh yelled out, signing ‘Rock on’ with both of his hands in the air. The echo bounced 6 or 7 times.

Josh rented a two person kayak and insisted you sat in front of him. You sat between his legs stretched out along each side of the small boat. You spent a good while roaming around the water, talking about whatever came to mind. You discussed music, film, and future travel destinations. Josh talked about how he’s been to so many places but often doesn’t have to time to really experience them and their people. You loved how Josh talked about people. His love for humanity, and connection was evident. He loved to talk about performing on stage, and how united it made him feel when people knew the lyrics to GVF songs. You enjoyed listening to Josh and seeing the world through his eyes. His optimism was an icy cold mojito on a hot day. 

Snorkeling was great after rowing in the heat for over an hour. You both had fun waving at each other under water and chasing the fish. The water was clear and made the different shades of moss on the large rocks glow like they were radioactive. Of course you took a make-out break in between all the swimming and started a water fight towards the end. Josh led the way out of the water and back on the beach the moment you told him your stomach was growling. You finished the day at the beach eating tacos, standing under the shade of a large palm tree. The ‘taquero’ with his small food cart clinked his tongs on the metalic surface. You could hear the sizzling grill full of different kinds of taco meats and relished in the delicious smell as you both fed your tired bodies.  

~~~ 

It was early evening when you woke up from your post-shower-nap. The sun had gone down, and Josh read a book under the light of the lamp on his night stand. You grazed his arm and he redirected his attention towards you. “Hi” He said softly. He put the book down, and scooted down to cuddle you. 

“What are you reading?” You asked. 

“John Donne. I’m reading it sure, I don’t know if I understand it yet.” He chuckled. “How are you feeling?” He asked.

“Uhhmm...” You trailed off as you tried to check in with yourself. “I feel pretty good” You said cuddling into Josh closer. “I’m having a great time.” You said. 

“Me too.” He said. “I’ve been wanting to say something to you.”

Josh got up and unplugged his phone from on top of the dresser. 

“What is it?” You said trying not to sound inpatient. 

“Hold on.” He said as he concentrated on something on his phone. You waited and waited until suddenly you heard the ruffling of some sort of recording. You now know it was Jake adjusting his phone in order to record himself. You displayed your confusion plainly and exaggerated on your face. Josh noticed it and laughed. 

“Trust me.” He said setting the phone against the lamp so you could see Jake with an acoustic guitar. 

“Ok Josh, you bastard, I’m doing this in one take.” You heard Jakes voice through the screen. He began to play “Now or Never” by Elvis Presley. Josh got into position and you suddenly understood what was going on. 

“When I first saw you with your smile so tender,

My heart was captured,

My soul surrendered, 

I spent a lifetime waiting for the right time, 

Now that you’re near the time is here,

At last. “

Josh belted out, tapping his foot to stay on beat with Jake’s recording. He couldn’t help but preform even if it was just for you. The song ended, and you could see Jake picking up the phone and saying,

“Hope that was a good one. Hope she says yes.” The recording froze at the final frame with Jakes nostrils way too close to the camera. 

“Hope who says yes?” You looked up at Josh trying to decipher. 

“I know we just met. I know this is wild. But we’re wild. I’m going on tour for a long while when the new record is released. It’s now or never. Y/N will you be my girlfriend?” Josh said waiting expectantly. 

You were completely blindsided. You’ve rushed into things before. You had dated many people that hurt you before. What if this was just him being impulsive? What if he just wanted someone waiting for him at home? The concern was obvious to Josh, who quickly sat next to you and held your hand. 

“What is it?” Josh asked. 

You took a moment to answer, sculpting your words carefully as they went. 

“That is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me. I loved it.” You said looking at him and then down at your feet, “It’s not easy for me to simply accept someone into my life like that. Not anymore. I need to think it through before I make a decision.” 

Josh looked down in disappointment, but said, “Of course. Take your time. I’m not going anywhere.” 

You didn’t know if you could survive being in a relationship with someone who was gone the majority of the year. What you did know is you wanted Josh to fuck you. Right away. You smiled at Josh, and he leaned in and kissed you. You took hold of his neck, and pulled yourself on top of him. You could almost feel his growing bulge pulsating through his pants. You grinded on him and kissed his neck. His expression was that of someone surrendering to pleasure. It made you want to suck his bottom lip, so you did. He took your top off and undid you bra. He held each end of the bra and kissed you so gently, so tenderly you felt like you could cum right then. He slowly moved his hands onto your rib cage, and made his way, painstakingly slow, up to hold your breasts in both of his hands. The heat coming off of your bodies, the moans, and heavy breathing created a forcefield of ecstasy and desire. You put your fingers on the button of his pants. 

“Josh.” You said softly. “I want you inside me.” 

You got on your knees and he scooted back in the bed, removing the barrier that kept him from you. As his pants pulled down, his penis popped out and bobbled slightly. You didn’t let him finish taking his pants off. You mounted him and began tugging at his cock. He was so close to being inside you, but you wanted him to want it more. His eyes were closed, but would slightly open every now and then to get a glimpse of you. He reciprocated and reached his fingers down and through your panties, into you and used all the moisture that had built up, to lube your clit and rubbed it in circles. He stuck out his tongue and reached for your right nipple. Once caught, he sucked on your tit and went faster on your clit. You moaned in pleasure and slowly got back into your knees. You pushed Josh back onto the bed, and directed your focus on his throbbing, veiny cock. You opened wide, and accepted him into your mouth until he hit the back of your throat. You pressed your tongue on his shaft and began to suck. At the same time, you used your right hand to keep jerking him off. You did this for a couple of minutes, as Josh’s breathing became heavier and heavier. You kept your eyes on his face, excited by the power you had over what he was feeling. The sounds of a wet penis being sucked were interrupted by Josh. 

“Fuck.” He said lifting his head and looking at you. This was what you were waiting for. You sucked for a few more seconds, and then mounted him again. You leaned over him and let him kiss you passionately. With your right hand you took hold of his cock, and guided it into your pussy. As it entered, you felt your nipples harden even more, you gasped as you accepted him as far as you could. As you rode him, your clit was rubbing up against his pubic bone, giving you the pleasure of penetration, and clitoris stimulation. Your moans began to get louder as you allowed the pleasure to take over you. He kept his hands on your waist, guiding the rhythm of your grinding. After exploring that for a while, he asked if he could turn you on your side. You got into position, laying on your right side, with Josh spooning you slightly as he put his cock back inside you but this time from behind. He started to thrust into you, pulling your left leg open so he could access your clit. The feeling was indescribable. He kissed your neck and his breathing tickled your ear. No other words needed to be exchanged. Your moaning was getting louder, Josh was going faster, and before your knew it you saw God. Your moans became small cries, and you felt like you were about to squirt. You never had before. You’d never been fucked this good before. 

Closer and closer to climax you both got. 

“I’m gonna cum.” You started to whisper. “You’re making me cum.” You pleaded with your eyes that he keep going. Josh fucked you harder, only moving his fingers from your clit, to spit on them, and then continued to rub you. You were both sweating now, The night was cool, but heat seemed to be steaming off of your naked bodies. Finally it was time. 

“I’m cumming.” You let out in a whimper. Josh maintained the intensity and speed to get you across the finish line. You let out a sudden shriek and your whole body tensed up, and began to convulse. It lasted forever, and in that time you locked eyes with Josh. His expression enveloping your eyes with pure sexual desire. As the shaking progressed you felt the orgasm release you back onto the bed, and your senses came back into the physical realm once again. 

You both panted for a moment, and you turned around to Josh who was laid out on his back with sweat beading down his face. You began to suck his cock again, vigorously pushing and pulling with both hands. You spit on it to make it a smoother motion. That’s when his orgasm began to form. Josh said very little, but the breathing was evidence enough that you were getting him close. Your motions were steady but you took your time with it.  Then it grew faster, faster, and faster. He came at last. All you heard was “I’m cumming.” and a warm sweet liquid shot out into your mouth. You kept sucking as you swallowed his gift for you. You felt like you had just won a trophy of some kind. You both laid on your backs next to each other, recovering from what had just occurred. Eventually you turned on your sides to face each other. Josh put out his hand, and extended it towards you. Your pressed your palm against his. His fingers stuck out farther as they were longer than yours. You connected through your eyes, not having to say much after the closeness you had just shared. You’re not sure how long you laid awake, but it couldn’t have been long. You were both exhausted, but happily recovering from the magic of the night. You felt cocooned in a pocket of space and time with Josh. You both enjoyed the relief from the tension that had been building since the day you met. 

[multifan2022]

His Love

Masterlist

during the later part Bold is Sean Reeves, Italics is you, while regular is obviously none conversation. Small smut towards the middle.

The sound of your phone ringing pulled you from your light sleep. 'Talking to the moon' bouncing off the walls indicated your husband, Tj Hammond was calling you. That's right your married to the infamous Thomas James Hammond openly gay son of the president. Your life long best friend and now husband. The pregnancy test you took last week also showed the possibility of him being your baby daddy but since you hadn't seen him in almost two weeks he didn't know that. Rolling towards the sound your fingers fumbled causing you to drop your phone, so as you answered you were hanging off the side of your bed with only one eye open. "Hello?" your voice came out thick and groggy.

"Y/n??... I need.. I cant.." Tjs voice came threw and it was clear he was sobbing. That was all you could make out was the clear sounds of his sobs. You quickly got out of bed setting the call to speaker as you pulled leggings and one of his sweaters on. "Sweetheart I need you to turn on your location so it shows me were you are on our 'Life360′. Ill come get you and we can figure out whatever's going on in the morning." You said soothingly walking towards the kitchen trying to pull shoes on, find keys and fix your hair all at once.

Without words you watched as his location popped up on your screen. "Alright Teej, Im twenty minutes away stay there" was the last thing you said before he hung up.

~~~~

When you found him, it was pouring rain.

He was soaking wet, had no shoes on and looked destroyed.

Throwing the car in park you blasted the heat before practically jumping out of the car and running to him. Knowing he was lost in this moment you pulled the hood up and sat next to him forcing one of his hands into your rubbing it. Hoping that any amount of heat would escape you and warm him even slightly. "Im here when your ready. Take your time TJ." You said softly as you started to think about how you ended up here.

He didn't even look up when you approached him, these moments always scared you. He had never laid his hands on you, but he had screamed at you. Normally how he didnt want to be married too you, or how he didnt love you the way you loved him. All things you knew, but you did all of this for him.

He didn't know about the groups that were threatening his life if he didnt marry a woman. And when His mother had come to you six years ago begging for you to help her save him... You didn't think twice. It didn't matter to you that he would never love you how you loved him. It didn't matter how many times you picked him up from parties, or the station. You did what you could to save him from not only himself but everyone else.

You played the good wife at parties and events.

You went to everything his mother sent invitations for, always making plausible excuses as to why TJ wasn't there with you. Of course everyone knew they were lies, everyone knew he was gay. Everyone knew he was probably at a party or passed out in some guys bed. The after parties where his parents insisted on driving you home were the worst.

Are you pregnant yet? Why aren't you forcing yourself on him? When are you going to carry out your duties as his wife? Why cant you make him love you?

The only savior these rides had to offer was TJs twin brother Doug. Even though they hated each other, he was always there as a buffer between you and his parents. Sometimes he was a little pushy too, telling you just to throw yourself at his brother when he was high or drunk and hope for the best. But they couldn't understand you would never take advantage of him like that.

Your love for Tj was pure, and from a good honest place. You had fallen for him as a child, in a puppy love type of way that grew over time. Eventually you became numb to watching him kiss men, the pain of him never coming home faded. Only to be replaced by fear every time your phone rang.

The fear that he was dead. Fear that he had overdosed, or gotten some bad drugs. That someone had taken advantage of him and killed him. The day he overdosed was the worst day of your life, even though he was alive. Watching his chest rise and fall while waiting for him to wake up was horrible. His eyes opening of course came with all the false promises, you wouldn't call them lies because you believed he meant them.. In the moment.

When he woke up promising to go to rehab, to stop the drugs and the drinking and the partying. When he promised to be home, and go to the events and try to be a good husband.. He really meant it when he said it, but you knew better. He was broken and lost, he wasn't ready to be brought back yet. But when he was you would be there to hold his hand and walk him down whatever path he needed you too.

You where pulled out of your thoughts when his head swung towards you, squinting from the rain and the bright headlights of your car. "Y/n?? Why are you all wet??" He said pulling you towards him like he wasn't soaked as well. Allowing him to pull you in you joked about how it was raining and you were both sitting outside. That seemed to pull him far enough out of his head for him to stand with you and follow you to your car his bare feet smacking loudly threw the puddles.

Once in the car you turned on soft piano music and pulled away from the curb, driving towards your house without a word. Knowing Tj wasn't in a good place to talk, he needed a warm shower and cuddles. You could feel his eyes on you the entire way home, opting to just hold his hand letting him know that it was ok that he wasn't ok.

~~~~

You stood in the shower holding Tj while lightly stroking his back as the water rained down from the ceiling. You heart was so broken for the man standing in front of you. No longer was he the carefree piano playing teen who loved to dance and sing. You knew one day he would get back there if he made it threw all this alive.

The small moans that came out of his mouth as you massaged his scalp were making it difficult for you to care for him tenderly. Gulping you pulled his head back by his hair to rinse the soap out before it reached his eyes. His hands moved from your back to your waist fingers squeezing as he moved to stand closer to you. Bodies now pressed together from hips to chest.

When the soap was gone and your fingers trailed down his arms you found a spot of the wall to stare at instead of his incredibly blue eyes. You knew you needed to end this shower, before it ended with you pinned against the wall. Just as you opened your mouth to tell him it was time to get out his lips crushes against yours.

You instantly kissed him back, let's be real you were sexually touched starved. It had been two months since you at Tj last had sex. But before that it had been years. Even taking care of yourself didn't compare to someone elses touch. It didn't compare to your husband's touch.

Even if he didnt love you like that Tj was plenty experienced in sex both with men and women. You couldn't recall when you felt yourself numb over to why he would sleep with other women and not you, but it had happened. You had seen plenty of pictures in the tabloids of his kissing both sexes, it just couldn't hurt anymore. Tjs hand moving from your hips to your thigh reminding you that your both still standing here making out.  

You had been together six years and had been together completely so few times you could count them on one hand. When he was like this you knew he needed to feel loved, you knew that's what he was seeking. The only way you could give that too him without completely feeling like a second rate rebound was a blow job. And lets just say over the years you had become very skilled in that area.

He always tries to have real sex with you in times like this but it feels wrong. Like he is doing it because he feels guilty that your taking care of him. Or because he feels like that's what he should do in return for his own release. He doesn't understand that someone can do something for him without needed or wanting something in return.

You kiss him for a while before either of you move, you swat his hands away from your thighs as you kiss down his neck. Those small moan growing with every press of your lips, every time you suck leaving little marks on his skin. You trace your hands down his chest and stomach wrapping your fingers around his hips digging your fingers in while your tongues swirl around each other.  

As much as you want to tease him, and make him beg for your touch you know it would only be damaging at this point. So you move one hand down to wrap around his cock, causing him to gasp into your mouth. His hands flying into your hair as if he thinks your going to stop kissing him. 'When will this man realize I am not going anywhere?' You think to yourself as you start pulling your hand back and forth in a steady rhythm.

You only do this for a few minutes, allowing yourself just a few more minutes of passionate kissing with the man you love so deeply. When you pull away you start trailing kisses again down his throat to his collarbone. Across his chest down but as you went to kneel down he pulled your face back to his. "You don't have to do that Y/n, we can have sex its ok."

Shaking your head you press a soft tender kiss to his lips pulling away just as he tried to get back into it. "Tj.. You deserve someone to love you and please you without expecting something in return. I expect nothing, I just want to help make you feel better. You don't have to lay in bed with me tonight, you don't have to cuddle unless YOU want too." You could see the tears  forming in his eyes at your words, you knew he didn't believe them. But you did, with every fiber of your being you believed them.

Staring straight into his teal blue eyes you slowly sunk down to your knees. Kissing both his hips before licking a thick strip up the underside of him. From the base all the way to the tip, feeling a drop of precum hit your tongue. Wrapping your lips around the tip you sucked softly causing Tj to buck his hips forward. Shoving his cock half way into your mouth.

You knew he was about to apologize so you hollow your cheeks and suck harder so that nothing leaves his lips besides groans. One hand left your hair to steady himself against the wall, while the other stayed twisted in your wet hair. His whimpers as well as your desperate need to make him feel better spur you on.

Soon his entire cock is planted in your mouth and throat, your nose hitting his pelvis every once in a while as you bob your head. Pulling back and kitten licking the tip you look up at the gorgeous man standing tall over you. You can see the pain and frustration still written across his features. "Tj.. I want you to use me.. Make yourself feel better.. Im right here."

You watched as the apprehension played across his face, that was the last thing he expected you to do or say. But when you slowly pushed your mouth all the way back down on him, deep throating him something snapped. Gripping your hair harder with the one hand, he placed his other hand around your throat. The fact that he could literally feel himself fucking your throat was enough to make him cum. But he held on.

You couldn't even guess at home long it went on, Tjs brutal pace pounding your throat until you were sure it was raw. Tears streamed out of your eyes from the lack of air, but you squeezed his thighs encouraging him on every time he slowed. You knew he was close by the lack of his moans, his mouth had fallen open and his thrusts were becoming sloppy.

"Can I cum in your mouth?" He said so softly you almost didn't hear him, you responded by moving your hands up to his ass and digging your nails in. You obviously had never had anything this rough before but you kinda liked it. Knowing that not only were you giving Tj the relief he needed sexually but he was pounding his frustrations out.

It wasn't long before could felt him twitch, a loud deep and very sexy moan coming out as he shoved deep into your throat and held himself there. As soon as he pulled out you swallowed before finishing washing both your bodies. You could see some of his stress melting away though and that was what you wanted.

Soon you both were dry and pulling clothes on, you allowed Tj the option of where he wanted too sleep. He could sleep next to you or the guest room you always had set up for him. Secretly you were hoping he would at least lay next too you but again you would never push. When he followed you too your room and climbed into bed next to you it was hard to hide your smile. What happened next made your heart almost explode.

He laid his head on your chest wrapping his arms around your waist and stared into the distance. You ran your fingers threw his hair for hours, long after he had fallen asleep the only sound in the room his soft sighs as he snuggling further into you. You woke long before your alarm was set to go off, sighing knowing you got less than five hours of sleep.

At seven am you stood in your kitchen starting coffee and tea, when someone started pounding on the door. Confused you walked towards your bedroom grabbing a robe  to wrap over the tank top and shorts you were currently wearing. Tj rolled towards you making grabby hands with his eyes closed, soft grunts escaping his lips as he tried to get your attention.

Bending over you pressed your lips softly too his forehead before speaking while running your fingers threw his sleep tangled hair. "Someone's at the door, I'll be right back then we can cuddle more." Tj sighed dramatically rolling over pressing his face into your pillow, you chuckled and rolled your eyes. "Teej, stay in here ok? Let's not tell people you're here yet, so you have some time to recover." Without removing his face from the pillows he nodded before falling back to sleep.

The pounding at the door pulled your attention back to focus as you made your way across your home. Peeking out the window you saw the person you were sure was at the center of last nights break down. Leaving him to stew for a few more moments you poured your tea adding honey for your sore throat before slowly walking towards the door.

As you opened it Sean had the audacity to try and step inside only to have his way firmly blocked by you. His eyes going straight from the robe that barley hit mid thigh all the way to your clearly sexed up hair. Scowling at you he tried once more to push past you.

"I understand your use to storming into Tjs apartment whenever you please but this is my home, and your not welcome inside."

Sean rolled his eyes and stuck his hands on his hips while looking at you condescendingly.

"Is he here?"

"Who?"

"Seriously Y/n.. Tj.. is Tj here."

"Nope"

"Do you know where he is?"

"Nope."

Sean knew that you were lying, the smug smile on your face and the way you stood in the doorframe telling him everything he needed to know. Laughing he shook his head at you. You didn't hear Tj walk quietly out of your room at the sound of his Ex lovers voice. He wouldn't say anything, because he really didn't want anyone to know he was here. He needed to be alone with you, to talk and try to recover some part of his sanity. But he wanted to know what Sean had to say.

"Your trying to tell me you don't know where your husband is? Not a very good wife Y/n."

"Sean I don't know where he is 90 percent of the time. We have tracking apps, he turns his location off. He doesn't answer his phone, doesn't text me. He has me blocked on all his social media and Im not aloud at the club. So no I don't know where he is. When he is ready to talk I'm sure YOU will be the first he calls."

"Its kinda pathetic how you wait around for him like a puppy dog, he will never want you the way you want him Y/n."

"I am well aware of that Mr. Reeves, Tj loves me in the best way he can. Unlike some of us that's good enough for me. Any of his love in any form is good enough for me. Now I've told you that your not welcome in my home so I think you should take your leave."

"I think I will wait, Im enjoying conversing with you. Have you told him yet that you are pregnant?"

Your muscles tensed as soon as the words left his mouth. You wanted to wonder how he knew, you haven't told anyone besides your best friend. But that's how it worked being the daughter in law of the president. Everyone knew your business, sometimes even before you. Taking a sip of your tea you started picking your words carefully.

"How exactly am I supposed to tell him anything when I haven't seen him in weeks? He missed his parents anniversary party as well as Megans baby shower. He hasn't answered my calls in at least two weeks, so I'm not sure when exactly I was supposed to tell him. He was to busy being shoved up your ass.. Literally."

Seans face reddened at your words, the blood in his veins heating up. He had always hated you, you didn't really know why other than he thought you were trying to force Tj to be straight. Which if he paid even the smallest amount of attention he would know was untrue. Behind you sitting on the couch TJ smiled, holding in his laughter until what Sean said about being pregnant clicked in his head.

"You know he loves me, tells me all the time how he wishes he never married you. He never wants to have children with you, so I'm not sure what your going to do with that thing growing in you."

"Sean, how many times do I have to say I am aware that he isnt in love with me. Your right he does love you, and all you do is play with him. He is a pastime too you and that's unacceptable. I am aware that he didn't want to marry me, I didn't exactly grow up thinking my marriage would be like this. But it was necessary to save his life, so that's what I did. It's a decision  I have never once for a single second regretted. As for not wanting children we have obviously never discussed it so I'll have to take your word. But I will not pretend to be upset that I'm pregnant. I've spent the last four years lying to everyone saying I have fertility problems so I don't have to tell them he doesn't even look at me. SO if you don't have any new insults to throw at me please get off my front porch so I can make myself some breakfast."

"What do you mean it was to save his life? His parents forced him into it!"

"Sean.. The circumstances of my marriage are between my husband and myself. The reasoning is between me and his parents, if Thomas ever wants to be involved and know what's going on he can ask his mother. Now I wont say this again you need to leave. Do not show up here again or not only will I call the police but Ill call your wife."

As you finished speaking you slowly shut the door locking it for extra measure, you leaned your forehead against the cool wood. Setting your teacup on the table next to the door your brought your hands up to cover your mouth. While you knew everything Sean said was true it still hurt. It hurt that in six years your husband had only touched you sexually maybe three or four times. They were all after huge fights with Sean or his parents in the small stretches of his recovery where he used sex to fight against the urge to do drugs.

The thought of how he was going to react when he heard his child was growing inside you terrified you. You honestly hadn't even thought about it yet, you were so use to being alone sometimes you forgot to figure him into the situation. You hadn't thought about how you were going to handle this alone, how you were going to handle his parents alone. How you were going to deal with the press wanting pictures and asking where he is.

You had not been seen together in who knows how long, rumors were going to start spreading you could smell the tabloids. TJ was going to run you were sure of it. You barely saw him now, it was bound to be never soon. Holding both hands over your mouth to muffle your sobs you could taste your salty tears. You still hadn't noticed your husband sitting on the couch.

Tjs heart was pounding, between the fight with Sean yesterday and now this morning he thought he was going to pass out. His blood was boiling at how Sean had spoken to you. His heart was breaking watching you cry against the door when you knew he was a few feet away laying in bed. It showed that you thought you couldn't come to him, which he understood now. He hadn't been a good husband he knew that, but at this point he wasn't even a good friend. He hadn't ever wondered why you were so willing to marry him. He never asked if you wanted children. He never thought past how all of this made him feel.

He was realizing now exactly how selfish he had been with the woman he was supposed to love and care for. The fact that you had to lie to everyone hurt him, but he knew it was his fault. He never thought about how it looked to everyone that after so long you didn't have a baby together. He never thought about how since he clearly has been seen with women people would assume it was something wrong with you.

His stomach turned at all the pain he was suddenly realizing he put on you. Not only were you dealing with him, but his family and the nation. And he left you to do it all on your own while going out making it worse.

Standing slowly he made his way towards the woman who was carrying his child. The woman who had saved him from himself so many times since they were children. The only woman he thought he could ever be with romantically. Why he never let himself try is beyond him, he figured it was because he didn't want to taint her life. But he was now realizing he already had, not only was she tainted by his bullshit but she was hurt by it. He had left her to fend for herself in a world that wasn't hers, a world he had drug her into.

You were so focused on trying to be quiet you didn't hear the footsteps behind you. Didn't notice Tj until his hand was on your shoulder turning you towards him. You could tell by his face he had heard at least the end of the conversation. Pulling you into him, you took your turn burying your head in his chest. Crying softly as Tj placed kissed on the top of your head and held your tightly.

"It sounds like we have a lot to discuss"

[gavin-plz-call-me]

Melted Ice Cream

TW: Internalized Acephobia, brief mentions of gender dysphoria and blood.

All Vincent wanted to do was cuddle on the couch with his boyfriends and watch a movie, but they had different plans. Them having sex without him leads Vincent to question his place in the relationship.

Fandom: Boyfriends (webcomic)

Use of Cannon Names: Prep-Vincent

Jock-Kevin

Nerd-Adrian

Goth-Felix

AO3

Words: 3K

The movie that Adrian had picked out was surprisingly really good. It was some cute slice-of-life anime movie that Vincent was sure would be a bit boring, not that he’d ever complain when he got to be in the arms of his boyfriends, but the characters were compelling and the storyline was phenomenal. Vincent was cuddled up next to Kevin, who held an arm around Vincent, drawing mindless circles against him as the four paid attention to the movie. This, Vincent decided, was the most perfect moment he had ever lived: watching a good movie and basking in the love of his boyfriends.

That didn’t last long.

It started off subtly enough, the couch moving slightly under Vincent as someone shifted their position, the quiet sound of a peck on a cheek. They were things that were so often just the background noise to Vincent’s life, that he could easily tune them out in favor of seeing if the girls in the movie would confess or not. Kevin’s arm slowly moved away from Vincent’s shoulder, he shuddered at the loss of warmth and finally looked up to see what was happening beyond the movie. Kevin’s retreated hand found its way to Vincent’s thigh, squeezing it firmly as he nibbled on Adrian’s ear. Adrian, who was currently making out with Felix, subtle moans already starting to form in his throat.

As appealing as the scene before him was, Vincent knew already that tonight was not the night he wanted to do this. All he wanted to do was cuddle up with his boyfriends and finish the movie, but they had other plans. Not wanting to impede their pleasure, Vincent resisted as Kevin tried to pull him off of the couch. “Not tonight guys,” He said, laying down on the couch, looking up at the men currently standing up, about to move to the bedroom, “I’m gonna finish the movie, you guys have fun.”

Kevin knelt down, his warm hand brushing the hair out of Vincent’s face, “Are you sure?” he asked, “‘Cuz if you’d rather, we can all finish the movie and-”

“No,” Vincent interrupted, he could already see the hard-on blooming in Kevin’s pants as he knelt down beside him, and Adrian’s face was already his signature shade of beet red as he gazed at Vincent too, they wouldn’t enjoy the movie now anyways, “go have fun, really.” Kevin gave Vincent’s face a good look for another few seconds before pressing a kiss to his forehead and disappearing into the bedroom with Felix and Adrian.

Vincent grabbed a blanket from a nearby chair, laying down on the couch. The heat from where the other three had been sitting moments ago was still there, but it was quickly fading. Vincent could finish movie night by himself, maybe get some cleaning done around the apartment, then, when his boyfriends were finished, he could cuddle up with them and fall asleep. That would be nice. The movie was getting better and better by the second, the girls having finally confessed, went on a date, which was currently being interrupted by one of their ex’s.

A loud moan of pleasure ripped through the apartment, covering up the audio to the pivotal scene. No one was louder than Adrian, that’s for sure, and while it was hot when he was participating, Vincent felt more like an annoyed neighbor than a loving boyfriend. He didn’t dare turn up the TV, though, he wouldn’t want even more noise complaints. The moans showed no signs of stopping anytime soon, so Vincent paused the movie, grabbed his keys, and headed out the door, locking it behind him. There was no way he’d be able to concentrate, let alone hear the rest of the movie, and with his relaxing night interrupted, he didn’t have the heart to clean. A nice drive would do him good. The blonde moved down the stairs of the apartment complex, into the parking garage, and clicked his key to remember just where he had parked. His car gave a satisfying beep that echoed through the enclosed space.

Vincent climbed into his convertible, whose roof was currently up, turned it on, and quickly made his way out of the garage and onto one of the main roads. Vincent rolled down his window, letting the wind fall softly across his face. None of the stations were playing anything that interested him, and Vincent didn’t feel like hooking up his own phone, so he turned it off, basking in the silence.

Silence rarely brings good things to a mind in crisis.

Bored, Vincent’s mind began to wander to his boyfriends. He hoped they were having a good time together, but it was hard to imagine any of those three could leave the others unsatisfied, so there wasn’t too much to worry about there. Did they miss him?

A sudden red light had Vincent slamming on the break, stopping his car, but not his thoughts. Did they miss him? Of course they did, the logical side of Vincent’s head said, but the more he thought about it, the more unsure he grew. They were probably having mind-blowing sex over at home, he probably handn’t appeared in their thoughts since the second they closed the bedroom door. Why would they? He wasn’t there providing them pleasure, he almost never was. For some reason, Vincent’s sex drive was just never as high as the others, he was always turning them down, day after day. It was only a matter of time before they stopped trying to include him, it was only a matter of time before they-

“MOVE IT ASSHOLE!” A scream accompanied by a cluster of honks brought Vincent back to; the light was green. Vincent slammed on the accelerator, taking off once again. He really shouldn’t be driving if he was going to keep getting distracted, so he signaled and turned into a parking lot, rolling his window back up. He leaned back in his seat, eyes gazing up at nothing in particular. Maybe he was broken. That had to be it. There was asexuality, but Vincent was sure that didn’t describe him. He liked sex, he wanted to have sex, at least every once in a while, and he thought his boyfriends were incredibly sexy, so what was the problem?

Tears began to sting in his eyes. The problem must lie within himself. They’d see that soon, wouldn’t they? He hoped to whatever gods were out there in the universe that they’d never see the problem, but Felix, Adrian, and Kevin were smart. They’d realize it eventually, and he… where would he fit in once they realized?

Tears free-flowed down his face now. Vincent didn’t bother trying to stop them, just letting himself silently cry. Thoughts swirled around his head, too frantically for Vincent to stop them. They clouded his mind as his tears clouded his vision. A sudden buzz of his phone pulled him out of his thoughts for a moment. He picked it up and was greeted by a picture of Felix flipping the camera off. Why was Felix calling him so soon? It was only...Vincent had been in the car much longer than he thought he had. Taking a few deep breaths in an attempt to compose himself, Vincent picked up the phone.

“Vince, where are you?” Felix’s voice sounded in his ear with that slightly groggily tone his voice always got right after sex. Vincent could tell he was on speaker “Your keys are gone.”

“Yeah, I…” Vincent looked out the window, looking for an excuse that wouldn’t expose his hurt, “The movie got boring so I thought I’d get us some ice cream.”

“Ooh!” Adrian interrupted before Vincent could say more, secretly he was grateful as he could feel his throat beginning to tighten again. “Get me cotton candy please!” Kevin and Felix called out their orders, cookies and cream and mint chocolate chip respectively, after Adrian. Vincent hummed in acknowledgment, before letting out a quick “love you” and hanging up the phone. Something about their cheery attitudes made him want to start crying again, but he forcefully held the tears in, hoping his eyes wouldn’t look too blotchy when he got home.

Vincent quickly made his way through the drive-through, ordering the three ice creams, not bothering to order one for himself. His stomach was in knots, and the thought of eating made him more nauseous than anything. He turned the radio up, not particularly caring what blasted through his speakers, only wanting something to keep his mind away from dark thoughts. When he arrived back at the parking garage Vincent thanked his past self for putting concealer in his glove compartment. He quickly touched up his under eyes, masking the remnants of red that remained on his face, then finally left the car to take the elevator upstairs.

The living room to the apartment was still empty when Vincent finally unlocked the door, stepping inside. Vincent let out a slight shiver as a blast of cold air from the apartment hit him. He made his way to the bedroom. There he found Felix, Adrian, and Kevin cuddled against each other. Felix was dressed in basketball shorts and a t-shirt, Adrian in Kevin’s shirt, and Kevin in nothing but his underwear. Vincent was glad that they at least dressed before he came home, but the room, which still smelt strongly of sex with a bottle of lube haphazardly strung onto the floor, still gave away what activities they had been partaking in. Vincent handed out the ice creams, flopping into bed next to Felix when he was finally done.

Kevin reached over and stroked Vincent’s arm, “Didn’t you get yourself any, baby?” He asked through a spoonful of his treat.

Vincent hesitated for a moment before nodding, “Already ate it,” he lied.

“God,” Adrian called out from beside Kevin, “Cotton candy ice cream is the best.” He moaned in delight, savoring the sweet taste of his ice cream. Vincent slightly tensed at the moan, broken, his mind called out.

Vincent leaped out of bed, “I’m gonna go do the dishes,” he said, not facing his boyfriends. If he got one look at them he knew he’d cry again.

“What?” Adrian whined, “But cuddles? Dishes can wait.”

“I won’t be able to relax knowing the dishes aren’t done, I-” He tried to get more words out, but his breath hitched slightly. Praying his boyfriends didn’t notice, he quickly escaped the room for the kitchen. There really weren’t many dishes in the sink, just a few plates, cups, and silverware lay. It could have waited till morning, Adrian was right, Vincent knew that, but he turned on the sink anyways. The rush of water from the faucet did nothing to cover up his returning bad thoughts. Why couldn’t he be more normal? He couldn’t even eat ice cream with his boyfriends, couldn’t even cuddle up with them, and relax because his brain just wouldn’t stop thinking. His throat began closing in on itself as his hands shook from the exertion of keeping the tears inside. He wouldn’t cry, he wouldn’t place that burden on his boyfriends. They were already burdened enough to have him in their lives, right?

CRASH

The glass that Vincent had been washing slipped from his hands unceremoniously and fell to the ground, smashing into hundreds of pieces. A piece ground horribly into his calf, leaving an angry red mark that began to bleed, but the pain of the scratch was nothing compared to the pain in his heart. The broken cup, as broken as him, would be yet another burden on Felix, Adrian, and Kevin. Ignoring the blood, ignoring the loud sobs that had finally begun racking his body, Vincent kneeled on the ground, trying to pick up the mess with shaking hands.

Before he could satisfyingly clean up his mess, a pair of hands grabbed his, forcing the glass back onto the floor. Vincent tried to pull away, the only thing on his mind was cleaning up the mess, not being a burden on his boyfriends, maybe they’d keep him around longer if he did this. “Vincent,” A voice called out, stern and full of concern. The blonde refused to turn towards the voice, just struggling to get to the glass, “Vincent,” the voice called out again, “You’re bleeding.”

Those words caused Vincent to snap back. He looked down through still misty eyes at his own hands, which were still being held still by the wrists. Blood was leaking out of his palms from the shards of glass that had embedded themselves into his skin, the blood dripped onto the floor and onto the hands of the hands holding his. “We’re gonna get you cleaned up, okay.” The voice from earlier, that Vincent finally recognized as Kevin’s, said softly into his ear. Vincent nodded, allowing Kevin to help him up and walk towards the couch. Kevin supported Vincent as he slowly sat down, then sat next to the blonde, keeping him close. Soon enough, Adrian came running in with the first aid kit, his glasses slightly foggy from the exertion of running around looking for it.

Felix grabbed the first aid kit from the nerd, kneeling down in front of Vincent and grabbing the worst injured hand. They all sat in silence for a while as Felix fished out the glass shards from Vincent’s hands with a pair of tweezers. Vincent whimpered from the pain, hiding his face in Kevin’s neck, reveling in the warmth of his presence. Tears continued to leisurely roll down Vincent’s face; tears from the pain and because of the lingering smell of sex that permeated around him. Adrian sat opposite of Kevin, rubbing the prep’s shoulder supportively. “You’re doing so good, baby.” Kevin was the first to speak, pressing a kiss to his boyfriend’s forehead. Vincent’s tears leaked out of his eyes with renewed vigor at the simple, loving action.

When his hands and leg were properly cleaned and bandaged, Felix placed gentle kisses against his hands. “This isn’t just about the cup, is it?” Adrian asked, cuddling closer to the crying figure, “You…you were acting off for a bit there. If you wanna talk about it, we’re here for you, Vince.”

Vincent really didn’t want to talk about it. He didn’t want the burden of his own brokenness, his own feelings, to be dropped on his boyfriends, but sitting there being held by the three men he loves more than anything or anyone in the universe, he couldn’t help it. “I-” Vincent choked on a sob, “Why do you guys keep me around?”

There was silence for only a brief second before Felix bolted up grasping Vincent’s face in his shaking hands, “Why would you say that Vince?” His slightly calloused fingers wiped tears away from the prep’s face.

“I mean, I’m broken.” Vincent averted his eyes from Felix’s, looking down at his own empty palms, “Who’d want a boyfriend who never wants to have sex?” The three other boys opened their mouths to speak at the same time, but Vincent only continued, “I mean, tonight, you guys were...were together and...and I could only think about how jealous I was. About how much I just wanted to cuddle on the couch with you guys, but...but if I told you to stay, you’d find out how broken I really am. Can’t have sex, can’t communicate, hell, I can’t even wash the dishes right.”

Felix’s hand slowed to a stop on Vincent’s face, “Look at me, sweetheart,” he said softly, gently encouraging Vincent’s face to move upwards, but he refused. “Vincent, please look at me, please.” His voice cracked slightly. At that sound, Vincent finally looked back up at Felix, whose eyes were now flooded with tears to match his. “You are not broken,” he said firmly, “and I will not sit here and let you talk about yourself like that.”

“But it’s-”

“You have always been there for me when I’m feeling dysphoric. When I look in the mirror and all I see is a girl, you’re there to help me find myself again. You shut me down when I insult myself, so like hell am I’m gonna sit here and let you do that to yourself.” Felix’s forehead met Vincent’s, whispering against it, “please let me, let us, help you see the you we see.”

Two more heads made their way towards Felix and Vincent’s, tears rolling down their faces as well, “We’ll keep you around forever,” Kevin murmured into Vincent’s collarbone, “You’ve done so much for us, you’re so good.”

“I’d never have sex again if it meant keeping you by our side,” Adrian sobbed, grasping Vincent’s shirt that had long grown damp from the four men’s tears.

Vincent wanted to insist that he didn’t have to do that, but his tears stopped his words. They were no longer tears of sadness, or fear, or self-hatred. They were tears of happiness. His boyfriends, the men he loves more than anyone else in the world, were there by his side. Vincent’s eyes may only see the bad in himself, but their eyes? They saw an amazing man whom they love, who may not be perfect, but who is? The flaws Vincent saw were perfections to them, and Vincent felt all that love at that moment. So much love, it was almost too much to bear.

After a while of crying together, Vincent finally spoke again, laughing slightly through tears, “your guy’s ice cream is probably melted.”

“Who cares,” Kevin said, “Who needs ice cream when we have you?” And so the boys stayed, enjoying each other's embrace, wiping each other’s tears, while the three melted ice creams and the broken cup lay forgotten until morning.

[writingsbychlo]

smoke and fire (05)

word count; 10,782

summary; a team bonding night forces you and thomas to confront some issues, and it goes a lot better than you had thought it would.

notes; a sweet break from all the tension, you’re welcome.

warnings; not even one. 

Closing your locker door, it was with a mildly relieved sigh as you did, the shift coming to a close, and you were ready to just relax. It wasn’t a hard day, in fact, since talking to Thomas and clearing things up between you both, these last few shifts had been better than ever.

You no longer felt like you were walking on eggshells with someone who hated you and may blow up at any moments, but instead, you were simply dealing with the usual precarious balancing act that came along with not quite fitting into somewhere, being a hexagon trying to fit into an octagon-shaped hole. Almost the right number of angles and edges, but not quite. No, this shift had just been particularly tiring because you’d been required to walk up eleven flights of stairs to get to a patient in an apartment building where the elevator was broken, you were wearing new work shoes that were pinching just a little, and your bra strap was digging in just slightly.

You couldn't wait to get home, actually.

Your legs ached, your shoulders felt chafed, and if you didn’t get these shoes off soon, you’d have blisters. As others moved around the locker room, you bid soft goodbye’s to them all when they voiced their own to you, your eyes finding Chuck on the way out, and watching as he scrolled through his music choices to set up his next playlist for the walk home.

Your jaw dropped, intending to call out to him, but Brenda was soon sidling up by his side, the two sparking a conversation, and you didn’t bother, not wanting to interrupt the pair as their chatter began. You were reaching the open doors to the bay, looking out to the roads as you prepared to round the building and find the carpark, when your name was being called out, loudly, echoing around the walls of the garage and causing you to halt in your steps, turning around to see Minho.

Newt was by his side, the blond waving a little as he disappeared back into the station or finish up whatever he was doing, and you waited for a second as the darker-haired man caught up to you, grinning through the pant his short jog had created, one hand coming up to adjust the bag on his shoulder as he stopped by your side.

“Hey, can I walk you to your car?” You raised a brow at him, looking out at the scarcely fading daylight of the day shift coming to an end in the early evening, and the minimally short walk it was to the parking lot, which you could already see through the thin lining of trees. “We can chat, I have a question for you.”

That made more sense, and you nodded your head, taking a step in that direction as he matched your space, your feet meeting the cool concrete outside of the firehouse. “You know I can’t give you drugs, right? Wish I could, but it’s totally illegal, and very unethical. You’ll have to just drink away your sorrows like the rest of us.”

He scoffed, staring at you for a second, before letting out the laugh that he was holding in, his shoulder bumping a little against yours. “Damn, and here I was planning to build my pharmaceutical black-market empire solely on your cooperation.”

“Damn, if only I didn’t have a moral compass.” You sighed, gravel crunching under your feet and his as the two of you crossed over the pathway marking the official property, and the parking lot, only a few cars left from your team, all the others belonging to the new rotation who had just arrived. “So, what’s up? You got an injury, or something?”

“No, nothing like that.” He shrugged, following you along as you neared your vehicle, and he considered his next words carefully, it seemed. “I’m having a little get together tonight. Just a squad night, and I remember Chuck saying something about a movie night, I figured we’d just pick that back up. It’s going to be at my place, most of the team are coming.”

You reached your car, silence falling between the two of you as you unlocked it, and dumped your bag down onto the passenger seat. You thought about it all, who might be there, and the implications of actually going over to someone’s house. That was personal, to invite someone into your home, and you weren’t sure you were ready - or if you ever would be - to have someone from the team over to your apartment. In fact, you couldn't remember the last time you’d had a friend over to your place. Then, it clicked a little, remembering the conversation you’d witnessed taking place before Minho had joined you. “Did Newt put you up to this?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, did Newt tell you that you had or invite me to this?” You repeated, and he bit on his lower lip for a second, his eyes dropping from yours.

“No, not technically. I brought up the idea of doing something with the team, and he said ‘well, you’re inviting (Y/N) and Chuck too, right?’ and I absolutely was already planning on inviting you.” Your eyes narrowed on him a little, and an honest look flashed over his features, where cheeky and teasing expressions normally lay. “I swear it.”

You considered it for a few seconds longer, but you knew that if you turned this event down, even if the idea of seeing your colleagues outside of work still made you anxiety spike high, that you’d never be invited to anything again if you didn’t accept, and so you gave in. “Sure, text me your address?”

“Great, come by anytime after seven, we’ll probably start Chuck’s movie at about eight.”

He gave you a thumbs-up as he backed away to his own car, and you wondered for a second whether he even had your number, but he was walking away, already busy texting at his phone again as he left, and you figured he would simply get it from Newt if need be. Settling down into your car and starting it up, the radio came on in a loud blast, making you jump slightly and fumble to turn it down, shaking the shock from your body before setting off into drive.

As you drove along, you couldn't help but let your mind wander to who would be there. You knew Minho had mentioned Chuck, and you desperately hoped the young boy would be there because he was the first of the team who had welcomed you, and was so far the person who made you the most comfortable of them all, because you felt as though you fitted in with him the best. He understood you, despite your differences. You were a girl who’d had too many houses, and he was a boy who had barely seen one yet, and so the struggle of being outsiders seemed to match up perfectly.

He was funny, and reliable, and you knew you’d feel at least slightly better if he was there. You hoped Brenda would be, too. Something along the line between camaraderie and friendship had been growing between you both, and you definitely didn’t want to be the only chick there, because then they’d want o have guy talk, and you’d end up sitting silently and trying to slip away mentally to your happy place as you died on the inside a little.

Of course, Newt would be there, but he was one of the most sociable people you’d ever met, and so you couldn't exactly rely on him to spend the entire evening by your side just because you still felt like you were in a room full of strangers when your anxiety got the better of you. Even if you were certain he would if you asked him to.

Pulling out onto the highway, your music clicked off, your ringtone taking over a second later through the car’s speakers, and your brows furrowed as you looked down, a number you didn’t recognise, and you freed up one hand from the steering wheel to click accept on it once you were comfortably within a line.

“Hey, girl!”

“Hi, Gina Linetti.” You scoffed, hearing the chuckle of your coworker through the phone, and making a note to save Brenda’s number to your phone. “What do you need? I’m not turning back around to the fire station. I’m, like, five minutes from home. If you’re not dying, it can wait until next shift. Or, go to the hospital, I’ll text Derek and let him know you’re on your way.” You snickered at your own joke, and you gasped a little.

“Who’s Derek?”

“The doctor from Aaron’s case.” You flicked on your indicators, moving across the lanes slowly toward the exit as it began to near, and you waited as she thought on it, before gasping.

“You mean the hot doctor?”

“I guess.” You shrugged to yourself, before realising she couldn't’ see you, and before she could ask more, she was cursing loudly at someone else on the roads, clearly having called you from her car, and your eyes widened a little at the road rage she exhibited, trying to curb your humour in an attempt not to laugh.

“Fuckin’ idiots on the roads.” She huffed through the crackly speakers, and you grinned a little peeling off down an exit road and following the path you’d learned well toward the place you were now calling home. “Anyway, I figured I could come pick you up for Minho’s later? You’re drinking, that's not up for debate, and so you can’t take your car and try to drive home afterwards.”

“I didn’t know this was a drinking kind of thing.”

“It’s Minho’s event, of course, it’s a drinking kind of thing.” She spoke the words as thought you were supposed to know that, as though you knew him well enough, or had hung out with him for long enough that you’d know what a gathering hosted by each member of the team would be like. She seemed to sense the tension, clearing her throat to brush over it. “You don’t need to bring anything, just dress comfy for a night of movies and snacks, that’s it. I’ll pick you up in, like, two hours?”

“You’ll need my address for that.”

“Then you’d better give it to me.” She teased, making your roll your eyes fondly, and the streetlights around you were just beginning to warm up as dusk began to fade into the sky, muted shades of pastel purples and pinks coming in as the sun set, setting an iridescent backdrop for grey clouds. “Text it to me, and I’ll see you soon.”

“Cool.”

She hung up after that, the music clicking back on, and as the conversation ended, you couldn't help but feel like you’d somehow been conned into something, Brenda having had you agreeing to carpooling and drinking and a longer night than planned before you'd even known it, smooth and subtle to get her way, leaving your head spinning. As you pulled into the underground parking lot of the apartment building, you sat in the seat for a second, staring out in confusion at the other cars as you wondered what the hell had happened.

Less than an hour ago, you’d been planning to come home, make some pasta, have a bath and maybe do some reading, a night spent by yourself was the normal, all you had planned, and yet somehow, you now had plans to get tipsy and watch a movie with your team, and you were unprepared. The smell of vomit was still lingering on you from your latest patient and had greasy hair, the wash load you would have done later tonight or tomorrow for your next shift a couple of days would now be crammed into two hours; you had to wash up, make sure there was money in your wallet for a taxi later, find some alcohol from somewhere, get your uniform into and out of the washer to dry, all for plans you didn’t know you had until now.

You bit your lip, shaking your head, snatching your keys from the ignition and getting on with your preparations. You had a lot to do.

The second that you were pushing the door open with your shoulder, you kicked off your shoes, leaving them abandoned at the side of the door as you pulled back and took in the apartment. It wasn’t too messy, but it was another chore you’d been intending to get done tonight, so that you could make the most of your day off, and you let out a heavy sigh as you took it all in. Your first stop was your shower, bag dropping from your shoulder to the floor much like your shoes, abandoned to be sorted later, and you stripped of your clothes as you walked, shirt being unbuttoned and belt loosened, until you were standing in your underwear in the laundry room and stripping it all off in front of the washing machine.

It wasn’t ready to be set off yet, but you needed to shower first, and so your first call was there, tugging the band loose from your hair and running your fingers through it as your ponytail finally came loose, strands sitting awkwardly and messy atop your head in their fixed position. A text on your phone caught your attention, and you were tempted to ignore it, before realising it was probably Minho texting his address across, and it reminded you to send Brenda your own.

Switching on the warm water, you darted from the room, letting it warm up behind you as you searched for your phone, locating the device on the counter and saving his number to your contacts, replying with a simple ‘thank you’, before sending your own address across to Brenda. She, in turn, replied with a series of smiley emojis that made you laugh a little under your breath, not bothering to respond and putting the phone down.

As you stepped back into the bathroom, you were rubbing at your eyes tiredly and suppressing a yawn, shaking yourself down in an attempt to shake away the work fatigue in order to attend the plans you now had, and make the most of them.

The steam was tempting you in, the heat coming from the water was calling out to you, and as you stepped over the edge of the tub, one leg under the water, before the second was following, pulling your body under the spray and letting the what spread over your skin, a sigh slipping from you. It was relaxing, to be able to physically feel the grime slipping from your skin and down the drain as you cleaned yourself off.

The smell of bile on your skin was replaced with that of fresh and sensual smells from the creamy body wash on your side, perfume style and floral scents, something much more comforting and relaxing and you found your muscles loosening under the spray. You didn’t get to stay in the water as long as you wanted, only long enough to rinse off your hair and settle into a more comfortable state of mind. You were tempted to call it all off, to run a hot bath and put a bathbomb in it, something that would leave your apartment smelling great for hours, but you couldn't, you knew you’d already agreed, and you still had so much to do before Brenda got here.

Hopping out, with a towel wrapped around your body and another around your hair, you didn’t get to spend as long pampering yourself as you wanted to, the sheet mask on your counter that you wouldn't get to use tonight, and your favourite sets of moisturisers next to it, but instead, you had to rush through your routine, making sure your skin was taken care of, before combing through the lengths of your hair and leaving it untangled around your shoulders.

With a basket under your arm, you dashed throughout the apartment, trying to scoop up all of the old laundry that you had to try and get through, not wanting to start with chores on your day off when you’d intended to use the evening to do it all, and so you were rushing to get it at least started now. Dropping your collection in front of the machine, you sorted through it all, dividing it into piles and making sure your uniform was on the first collection, absolutely ensured to go through.

There was some basic cleaning up to be done, setting off the washer and pulling the door to the laundry room almost shut, hands on towel-covered hips as you stared around the main room, a lived-in mess that wasn’t out of control, but somehow, the time had slipped so far past you that you felt as if the clock was spinning at double speeds, less than an hour left until your friend was due here, and you let out a loud groan.

You figured that getting dressed might be a wise place to start, drying off damp strands of hair before choosing the most relaxed but still reasonably appropriate outfit that you could. Something that wouldn't make you feel embarrassed or insecure, but also met the requirements of ‘comfy and cosy’ for a night of drinking and snacking. With dry hair that wasn’t bothered to be pulled back, phantom pains along your scalp just at the mere idea of being slicked back once again, you were left to try and get some tidying done before it was time for you to leave.

You skidded around a little on the polished wood floors under you, socks making them slippery, and you started in the kitchen, shoving all the pots and plates that you’d neglected to take care of into the dishwasher, and setting it off on an extra-long cycle to get at the tougher spots that would usually require scrubbing if you did it in the sink.

While it ran, you plugged your phone in for some last-minute charging, your favourite songs beginning to emanate around the room and fill the house with sound, letting you sing along quietly under your breath as you fold your blankets, straightened out the couch cushions, and wiped down the later of dust that was beginning to build. A lamp lightbulb needed replacing, and so did the canister in your air freshener, but your phone was repeatedly chiming from the kitchen counter you'd left it on, and the sound of a car’s horn came from the street outside of your house a moment later as you realise your friend must’ve arrived.

Peering out of your window, your suspicions were confirmed, catching her head moving as she made to get out of her car, pulled up haphazardly onto the sidewalk to wait for you, and you decided that everything else could wait until tomorrow. A quick wash over room spray over it all, and the rest of your tasks needed to be left. You hadn't managed to rustle up any drinks from your cupboards, or nothing appropriate to take with you, anyway, but you were certain you’d be able to swing by a store on the way, or you’d share whatever Newt had brought and send him half the money for it.

Tugging on a pair of sneakers and cursing under your breath as the horn sounded again, your phone still chiming, you hopped around a little to pull the shoes on, grabbing a hoodie to pull over your t-shirt from the coat hooks by your door, the first jumper your hand found, and bringing it over your head. Snatching up your phone, keys, and wallet, you flicked at the lights and left the building, the catch on the food locking your apartment up nicely.

The light had faded since you had gotten home, a crisp night chill began to seep in, even more so in the main lobby as you stepped out of the elevator, seeing her parked up front, and your jaw dropped as you took her in. She looked up, sensing the movement, and grinned at you, your eyes canning along her body, before you were scowling a little.

“Bren! What the fuck?”

“What the fuck; what? Hurry up!” She leaned down and pressed the horn again, only making you scowl at her more, as she assumed that was what had you all wound up.

“You said to dress casual and comfy!” You hissed, nearing her and crossing your arms over your chest as you felt a little uncomfortable now in a hoodie and some soft cotton pants, something that was a cross between leggings and sweatpants, and you couldn't remember what they had been called.

“This is what I wear to be comfy!”

“That is what I would wear to a club!” You stared at her, the cropped tank top and the skinny jeans and the heels that were over her knees, and you let out a huff. “Hey, I can’t be held responsible. Have you seen my ass? I gotta’ flaunt it while I still got it. Get in the car, you look fine, everyone else will be the same.”

“If they’re not, I will legitimately go home.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” She grinned, slamming the passenger door as you got inside, grinning at you through the window before making her way around to the driver’s side, and something about her attitude was already making you regret your decision. She seemed like a hugely reckless driver, and you fastened your belt up quickly, and held onto it as she peeled away from the sidewalk of your building. “We have to go to the store too.”

“Why?” You question, slumping in your seat as she picked up the speeds a little more, and with her swerving in traffic and swearing lowly at other drivers who were actually following the speed limits, your suspicions were confirmed.

“Because all Minho ever has in is guy things for team nights. It’s always nachos and beer and pretzels, and pickles. Now I have another chick, we can get good snacks and I have someone to share it with.” Your brows furrowed, thinking back on a conversation you’d had with Thomas only a week prior, before disappearing to find your team, who’d already claimed a table at the bar, and all of your questions had been washed away.

“Wasn’t the paramedic before me a chick, though?”

Brenda’s face screwed up into a grimace, and she checked her mirrors, searching around the parking lot of the store, and you yelped with a little shock as she spun the car and a jerky angle into a parking space, reversing in line with the other vehicles on either side. “Teresa? Yeah, but she didn’t come to these things much. She did once she started dating Thomas, but even when she was there, she wasn’t really there, y’know?”

“So, they were, like, a thing? Serious, and all that?”

Brenda paused for a second, the engine still running, but a look you didn’t recognise crossed over her features as she stared out of the glass, watching others go by for a second and nibbling on her lip. You undid your belt, twisting in your seat a little, and wondered whether you’d crossed a line. “It’s not my place to say.”

Definitely crossed a line, then.

You had no idea how to backtrack, or get out of that situation, gaping a little, before she seemed to sense your discomfort, resetting herself and turning to face you. “I’m thinking white wine, what do you normally drink.”

“Not wine.” You teased, and she scoffed, rolling her eyes a little and killing the engine, before she was getting out of the car and stretching a little.

“Well, you’re gonna’ have to learn to love it, because as my only female friend, you’re the only person I have to do my girly-bucket list with. Like go to fancy cocktails bars and go to a wine tasting event in a fancy dress.”

“I like vodka and mini-golf. Work with what you’re given.”

She beamed, her arm linking through yours as the two of you made you way through crisp evening air toward the doors of the store. “Don’t worry, a few weeks around me and I’ll have you sipping Rioja and getting your nails done, and you’ll never even notice the change.”

“Uh-huh.”

You could fight it all that you liked, but the truth was, you were elated just to know that she considered you a friend close enough to want to do these things with, and that you might be able to finally have an out-of-work friend, too.

You never had anybody to go to nice restaurants with when you drove past them, or concerts when your favourite bands were in town, or even just someone to talk to on a lonely night. You wanted friends to buy Christmas presents for and birthdays other than your own to celebrate, and someone to be thankful for at Thanksgiving, and despite how much you’d resisted at first, with every passing week, it seemed more and more like Firehouse ‘21 and the team there were making themselves into that for you, breaking past your defences without even realising they were.

Brenda grabbed a cart from the line-up, the warm air washing over you both as the doors hissed open, and you paused at the entrance, staring around it all in mild awe as you tried to decide where to start.

“Wanna’ get that wine first, then?”

“Yep. The boys’ snacks can wait, I just saw a deal on Twizzlers.” She bolted ahead of you, leaving you in the dust for only a second, before you were forcing your feet into action, and following after her, all but stumbling as you went. She was in the candy aisle when you caught up with her, a packet of strawberry Twizzlers in one hand and raspberry in the other, seemingly weighing out the pros and cons of each one. “Which do you prefer?”

“I like both.” You shrugged, and she turned to look at you, a perfectly done brow raising at you.

“Yes, but which do you prefer?”

You grinned, taking the raspberry ones from her hand, waving it at her for a second, and you dumped it in the cart. The offer was getting a second one free to match, and so she dumped a matching packet of raspberry ones to follow, the two items sliding about in the base of the cart as she pushed a few metres further down the aisle.

“So, I’ll let you pick the wine, since we are having wine. Or, I’ll pick the wine, and you can drink beer with the men.” She gagged a little at the idea, and while neither would be your first choice on drinks, wine was infinitely better than beer. At least it tried to have flavour and be fruity, as opposed to beer, which you felt was more like a bitter assault on your mouth. She added a packet of Hershey’s Kisses to the cart, as well as some Reece’s Pieces and M&Ms. You weren’t sure where the two of you were supposed to put all of this, listening to her talk about snacks all the way around, until she was adding two tubes of Pringles and three packets of potato chips to the cart, placing all her hopes on Minho actually owning the rest of the ingredients to make nachos, and something within you doubted that he would, and so you slipped a jar of salsa dip in there too.

When you finally made it to the drinks aisle, you were staring up at the bottles on the shelf, information underneath like ‘dry’, ‘crisp’, ‘spiced’ and ‘aromatic’ that meant absolutely nothing to you, they all seemed exactly the same, just with different labels. You were relying on her for advice, brushing your hand over various bottles, to see which way she perked up in, up and down, left and right, as you searched for her favourite.

You felt like you were getting somewhere, subtle and discreet ways to find what she really wanted as you had no idea what to pick, when her phone rang, and you paused, turning to look at her as she fished it from her pocket, bringing the screen up to take a look, before answering the call.

“Hi, Min.”

You raised a brow, stepping away from the shelf for a second and trying to offer her a look as though to ask whether something as wrong, your heart dropping a little in your chest at the idea of it being cancelled, because in the short spell of time you’d been shopping with Brenda, you’d found yourself quite looking forward to the evening. Your question seemed to be conveyed well enough, because she shook her head, a small smile on her lips as you waited.

“We’re at the store. We’re, like, twenty minutes late. Relax.”

You were certain that you weren’t, you’d only been here for about twenty minutes, but as you searched for your phone, you found the time to read almost an hour later than when you’d entered, your jaw dropping a little as the time had flown past without you even noticing. The pair of you had bickered playfully all the way around, mumbled girl-talk as you wandered the store, and it wasn’t the same kind of forced conversation you were oh-so-used to providing, but it had been a genuine conversation that you’d enjoyed.

Brenda was chatting with Minho now, a softer smile on her face as the words went hushed, and your lips pursed, trying to hold in your smile as you watched the interaction, the bashful look on her face where she was normally so confident. You instead managed to busy yourself with looking back at the drinks again, trying to work out what any of the words staring back at you meant, and eventually, you settled on a bottle of rosé.

It felt like a middle ground, a compromise between red and white, couldn't be too far wrong, and it promised to be sweet and fruity, and that was probably the bet you were going to get out of the whole situation, so you placed a bottle on it down into the cart. The clinging of glass on metal caught her attention, and she turned around, glancing down at your selection before making a face, that was something you were going to take as mild approval, a mental pat on the back awarded to yourself, and she reached for a second bottle, your laugh muffled behind your hand as you watched her do so.  

“Yeah, okay, we’ll be there in, like, fifteen minutes. Tops.”

She hummed a little longer, Minho still talking on the end of the phone, before she finally hung open, putting away her phone, and pacing her hands on the edge of the cart. “Everything okay?”

“Totally, he just wanted to know when we were going to get there, everyone else has already arrived.” She shrugged it off as you grimaced, guiding the two of you towards the checkouts, and you eyed up all the available spots as you went, trying to decide whether or not it was appropriate for you to mention the little something you’d noticed in that call between her and Minho.

You felt like you were still nothing more than a coworker, but everything about the evening so far had suggested that you were a friend, and that was definitely a friendship kind of topic.

You would never know if you didn’t try, and if she shut you down on it, then you knew where you stood with her, but if you never bothered to try, then you’d never have any friends at all.

“So, you and Minho, huh?”

Her jaw dropped, turning to look at you for a second, before a smirk was taking over her features, and she was staring back ahead, setting herself up on the nearest conveyor-belt and beginning to unpack the groceries, with your help. “That’s nothing particular. We just.. hook up sometimes.”

You gasped, turning to look at her, your hands on your hips as she unpacked the last few items. “You scandalous little thing! With a coworker, no less!”

She feigned the same energy, placing a hand over her heart and the other over her forehead, letting out a heavy breath. “I know, practically sinful, whatever will I do?” The pair of you giggled, the cashier not paying any attention to either of you as the young boy began to check out the items, taking the tag from the bottle of wine and scanning each item through, the two of you trying to pack it all into paper bags before it piled up, keeping up with his speed. “Seriously, though, what do I do?”

“About Minho?”

“Yeah.” She whispered, and you nibbled on your lower lip, watching her punch her PIN into the card machine as she paid for the shopping, one bag in your arms and one in hers as you held onto everything. “It’s been going on or a while, and it’s casual, but, I kinda’ like being around him, all the time.”

She grabbed the receipt, the two of you turning to the door, and only a few steps later, stepping back out into the cold air, headed towards her car. “You like him in a date him kind of way?”

“Maybe.” She sighed glancing over at you for a second, a smile on her lips. “I mean, maybe that’s just the whole post-sex glow thing, and it’s always so normal at work. Normal in a totally-never-seen-you-naked kind of way, as if it never happened, and that feels right, too. I’m a little confused, I guess.”

“Well, maybe, you should just spend some time with him and work it out.” She gave you a look, waving the bag of groceries in her arms, before trying to find her keys to open up the vehicle as you neared it, and you scoffed. “I meant time alone, like, not with the whole team in the same room.”

She rolled her eyes a little, cheeks turning slightly pink as she thought about it, and the conversation seemed to end there, taking the bag from you and placing it into the trunk of her car. As you settled yourself back into the driver’s seat, she was a little more pensive, pulling out of her parking space and setting off on a drive you figured she knew well on her way to Minho’s house, the music of the radio playing to fill a comfortable silence.

It was an area of the city that you were unfamiliar with, not being much of an adventurer, spending most of your time at home when you could, because you never really had a reason to go out. You had nobody to visit, and no friends to take out anywhere, and so you didn't fern explore anywhere that wasn’t in the immediate couple of blocks to where you lived or worked, but now, you felt a little more like you had a reason to be curious about your city.

“He invited me to stay over, tonight.”

You perked up a little bit, shifting in your seta to look at her, and she kept her eyes on the road, but there was a sheepish smile on her face. “Yeah? What did you say?”

“I haven’t decided. I packed a few things in a bag, in case, but I’m not sure.” You glanced into the backseat, not having noticed the small back stashed beside the shopping until now, but a change of clothes and a phone charger was within, presumably with some other things, and you tried to cover up your excitement, bursting with joy for the woman beside you as she possibly took a step towards her happiness.

“You totally should.”

“Yeah?” She muttered, pulling up towards a fancy-looking apartment block, stopping at the barricade displayed underneath and punching in the code, before the barrier was lifting up, allowing you inside. Your building didn’t have that kind of measures on the parking lot, and you were a mix between excited and anxious to see where Minho lived. “What about you, though, how are you going to get home?”

“Not with you, that was for sure. You’re drinking, and you’re already a wild driver.” You teased, hearing her scoff, one hand freeing up to smack at your arm lightly, only furthering your amusement.

“I’m a great driver.”

“Yeah, for Formula One racing, maybe.” She hummed under her breath, rolling her eyes and making a point of swinging in a particularly fast and wide movement into a parking spot, making you squeal as you feared she was going to bump the car on each side or crash the car, and yet somehow, she managed not to do either of those things.  “You’re insane! I was planning to get a taxi, anyway, but now it’s confirmed.”

“I don’t want you getting in a cab alone.”

“I’ll be fine.” You shrugged, and she only stared at you a moment longer, her gaze seemingly getting more intense, and you squirmed a little bit, unclipping yourself and getting out of the car. She followed you, both doors slamming shut, before she was offering you a shopping bag, and changing her tactic from judgemental glares to puppy dog eyes, and you huffed, letting her lock the car and waiting for her to guide the way. “Would it make you feel better if I shared a cab with one of the boys on my way home?”

“It really would.”

“Then, I will. Just for you.” She beamed, blowing you a kiss from a few feet away as she rounded the car, and came up to your side to direct you to the building. There was a simple tune playing in the elevator as you rode up, the metal on the door shining and clean, the walls on either side of you were mirrors, and once you stepped out, the corridor was classy. Not the slightly tacky and vaguely 80’s looking carpet that most apartment buildings bought to line the halls because it as the cheapest option available on mass, but this was sleek, a dark grey colour to match pale grey walls, decorated with soft blue flowers along the way, and dark mahogany doors with golden lettering along each one.

Minho was number fifty-four, and you weren’t even sure which floor you were on but it was high up, you could tell from the view at the window near the end of the hall, and you were almost certain that the price of this apartment must be double the price simply because of the view. The door swung open only moments after Brenda had knocked, because Minho was standing before you both, and you groaned a little as you took him in.

“Do neither of you understand what comfy clothes means?”

Minho looked shocked for only a second, glancing down at himself, a pair of skinny jeans and a jumper that looked like it cost more than your entire outfit did, and he shrugged, making you feel a little insecure in your battered old hoodie that had a hole for a thumb and some loose threads. “This is comfy, thank you very much.”

“Yeah, sure it is.” You mumbled, adjusting the groceries in your arms, and he held the door open for you a little further. Brenda already knew her way around, that much was obvious from the way that she marched straight into the house, loud cheers from somewhere within lighting up from the rest of the team, a chorus of loud shouts and hollers of things along the lines of ‘finally!’ and ‘about time!’ making you grin a little at the group finally being complete. “You want me to just put these in your kitchen, then?”

“Yeah, sounds cool. Just, um, dump your shoes wherever, or keep them on if you want, and I can give you a little tour so you don’t get lost.”

“Your place is that big?” You grinned, stepping inside and toeing off your shoes to join the pile of assorted sneakers, boots and scattered slides that were on the floor. Before you were wandering along after Minho. The place really was that big, it was huge, actually, polished wooden floors along the corridors, and your place was almost entirely open plan, only a few doors, and yet Minho had walls to divide with real doors and low lighting that was intimate and fancy and it was all very impressive. “How the hell do you afford this place?”

“Only fans.” He sighed, glancing back at you over his shoulder, before snickering, and leading you into the large kitchen. An island in the middle, marble countertops and a shining coffee machine that looked like it belonged in a Starbucks sat in the corner, and you placed your bag down on the counter to match with Brenda’s, but had no idea where she’d gone. “I’m kidding, it’s not mine. It’s my grandma’s, she lives out of the city. I’m basically Monica Geller.”

“You went with Monica instead of choosing to be Ross? The guy?”

“Who the fuck wants to be Ross we-were-on-a-break Geller?” He teased, beginning to look through the bags, gasping a little as he pulled out the items stacking them up neatly, and grinning at the packet of Skittles he found that was clearly intended for him. “Thanks for coming, I’m glad you’re here.”

“If I’m being totally honest, I wasn’t going to.”

He looked up, raising a questioning brow at you as he prompted you to continue, and he tore open the packet of candy, tipping a few out into his hand and emptying them into his mouth from his palm, chewing as he waited for your answer.

“I feel like I’m invading. Like, you know when you’re having family dinner and your sibling invites their friend to stay without telling anyone and then nobody has any fun because you really want to eat a third bread roll and burp out loud but you can’t because you don’t want to embarrass your sibling and so everyone is on their best behaviour and it sucks?” He stared at you for a second, amusement flickering over his features, before he was nodding his head. “Well, I feel like the sibling’s friend who senses how uncomfortable it all is and knows they’ve messed everything up and now wishes they’d just gone home for their own dinner.”

“Well, I don’t think you’ve messed anything up, and I promise, if you burp out loud then I will burp as well so that you’re not alone.”

“You can’t just burp on command, but thanks for the offer.” You teased, watching as he turned to reach for two glasses, shining glass that made you fear touching it just in case you smashed it.

“Uh, I absolutely fucking can, wanna’ see?”

“No, not reall-”

He cut you off, a loud burp echoing aloud the kitchen, and you grimaced at the sound of the belch before he was making it again. You gagged falsely, turning your face away from him, and he did it again, laughing around himself, before he was continuing to go on, and you scoffed at him.

“Stop it! You’re awful, that is disgusting.”

“You asked for it!” He shouted back, belching again, and you groaned loudly, Chuck entering the kitchen right as Minho let out yet another loud burp.

“Chuck! Make him stop!”

“I just came in here for a drink.” He raised his hands in a surrender, and you rolled your eyes at the pair of them, watching as Chuck open the fridge, searching around for the bottle opener as he pulled back two fresh lagers, condensation forming on the glass as soon a they met the warm temperature of the room, and you worked on the cork in the top of your wine bottle until it came out with a ‘pop’.

“Are you even old enough to drink?”

Minho laughed, loudly, and Chuck scowled at you as he released the metal sealing from the glass, and the other, and you lifted the first glass to begin to fill it with wine. “Yes, I am old enough, thank you. I’m twenty-two in a few months.”

“Aw, cutie.” You teased, pinching at his cheek and he smacked your hand away, diverting to the other room, and leaving you to fill the second glass. You did happen to notice that Chuck was wearing a normal person’s version of comfy clothes, though; a pair of baggy sweatpants and a t-shirt, and you sighed a little in relief. At least Minho and Brenda would make the world’s most stylish couple when together. “Alright, Minho, you promised me a tour of your fancy bachelor pad.”

“Bachelor pad? I like that!” He grinned, and you grabbed the two glasses of wine, sticking a packet of raspberry Twizzlers into your pockets before the two of you were setting off, and he was guiding you through the halls. He didn’t need to show you much, just vaguely pointing to what was behind each door, an office he used as a home gym, the laundry room, his bedroom - to which you didn’t fail to spot Brenda’s bed sitting out on the covers, but did resist mentioning - and then the bathroom.

Guiding you back through, large double doors that slide along the wall were pulled open, revealing the group inside. Brenda grinned as she saw you, lounging on a large chair, big enough for multiple people, and Minho took one of the glasses from your hands as he made his way over to her, offering up a glass of wine and sitting down in the chair alongside her, and she grinned at you a little bashfully as she remained calm. You liked being in on a little secret with her, on knowing something the other’s didn’t it made you feel a little less like you were on the outside but instead like you were being brought into the warmth from the cold.

There were several seats you could choose from. Cushions and blankets were laid out along the floor, the coffee table pushed aside, and you could sit between Fry and Newt on the floor, leaning back against the couch with plenty of space available to you, or you could find a seat beside Chuck, who was sitting cross-legged in front of the TV, a stack of DVDs beside him, but your back was already aching at the thought of sitting up straight for so long.

The final seat was on the cushions of one couch beside Thomas. He was leaning at an angle, Gally on his other side, a space between them both and you immediately felt your walls shoot back up at the mere idea of sitting with him, but the couch looked so inviting, and there was space, and you did want to try and make headway on that truce that the two of you had called, so you gave in. Making your way over to him, you made sure to ruffle newt’s hair as you passed him by, avoiding the way he was slapping at your hands and growling a little mid-conversation there, before he was returning to what he was saying.

Pausing in front of the man who was slumped over and texting on his phone, and you cleared your throat a little. “Can I sit with you?”

His eyes flicked down to the space that he was half-leaning over into, before nodding his head, and you sat down as he moved, feeling the tension building once again. Taking a tentative sip of your wine, you found that the drink wasn’t all that bad, while it may not be your favourite choice you certainly weren’t hating it, and you took another gulp to try and drown out the tension.

Leaning down and balancing your glass on the floor, out of the way of anyone that might get in the way, you moved onto pulling the packet of Twizzlers from your pocket, you tore it open, pulling one out and placing it between your teeth to take a light bite from it. Holding up the packet, you tried to be friendly again, the plastic crinkling as you lifted it. “You want one?”

He glanced, eyes flickering over the packet, before licking his lips, flicking up minutely at the sides. “Uh, yeah. Thanks.” You nodded, letting him pluck one from the packet, before he was looking back down to the phone screen, and taking a large bite out of it, and you sighed a little.

You took a breath, preparing an attempt at making conversation once again, but he didn’t even look up, not even a flinch for you, and so your jaw snapped shut again, turning away to eat your candy as you gave up on even trying at a tenuous alliance with him, the possibility of week friendship seeing to fly out of the window.

Crossing your legs underneath you on the couch, you pulled the sleeves of your hoodie down over your hands, rubbing at them anxiously as you looked around.

“I like your hoodie.”

You jumped a little, entirely startled by his voice beside you, and your head twisted back to look at him, brows raised slightly as he actually spoke to you, and you glanced down at it, the faded blue and orange logo across the front barely visible anymore, you’d had it so long. “You’re a Mets fan?”

“Long suffering.” He shrugged, sitting up a little further, and he clicked his phone off, pushing it into the pocket of his sweatpants. “You know, maybe one day, we’ll be fortunate enough to catch a full game without getting interrupted for a call.”

“What, with our houses’ luck? You’re swinging big there.” You teased, and he grinned, a small laugh leaving him, before he was reaching over to the packet sitting in your lap and taking two more of the soft candy-sticks from within, and offering one to you, before tearing a large chunk from his own with his teeth.

“Go big or go home, right?”

“I suppose so.” You sighed, chewing on your treat as he sat up a little more, his eyes sweeping over your face, and down over your shoulders, and you felt a little nervous under his gaze.

The armour of professionalism that was usually so securely constructed around you was crumbled down. Uniform and tight ponytail made it easy to frown and put up walls and treat everybody like strangers because they knew no other side of you, but now you were exposed, like an open wound. It was all traded for soft hair that fell around your shoulders and a small smile from the joy of the evening so far, clear skin and comfortable clothes and nothing that helped you man the defences, and so you hummed subconsciously, his gaze snapping back to your own as you made the sound.

Leaning down again, you collected your glass, bringing it to your lips and taking a sip, swirling the contents around in the glass as you swallowed, because you couldn't stand the scrutinising gaze he was putting you under, fear creeping in.

“You look nice.”

It wasn’t what you’d been expecting, your sights finding him once again, soft brown eyes fixed on yours as he shrugged a little, the pink on his cheeks from the warmth of the room growing a little darker, but he smiled nonetheless.

“Y’know, with your hair down and everything.” His fingers came up, wrapping lightly around the tips of a strand of hair, playing with it for a split second, before his hand and his gaze was falling away once again, and you flushed with heat as you felt yourself at a loss for words, unsure how to approach him as a regular person, and not as the Lieutenant who hated you, and it seemed that honesty was the best way.

“You’re not as scary when you’re not in uniform.”

“You thought I was scary?” He echoed, an indiscernible look passing over his features, and you nodded your head, the truth undeniable.

“Absolutely terrifying.” You downed what was left in your glass, wishing you had gotten more as it came up empty, and you were going to need more alcohol to get you through this conversation and this night, because the slight buzz you were barely beginning to feel was doing nothing to help your nerves.

Getting to your feet, you excused yourself, headed back towards the kitchen to find a refill, and as you locate the bottle sitting in the fridge, someone clearly having put it away at some point, you brought it back out, pouring double the contents of your original potion into the glass, taking a large drink from it and topping it back up. As another pair of footsteps entered the kitchen, you jumped, almost dropping the glasses in your hands with shock, and turning to push the fridge closed, still holding the bottle.

“Jeez, Thomas, you scare the hell out of me.”

“You were scared of me?” He questioned again, arms crossing over his chest, and your eyes flicked down to them, the tone in his voice taking on the same flat and commanding aspect that it did when he was in the field and making calls, and he seemed to take the hint, his arms dropping again and shoulder slouching. “I thought we just argued. Now I feel even worse.”

“It’s not your fault. Well, it is, but-” He frowned as you spoke, and you only continued to fumble with your words. “Look, I was being a bitch, alright? And you were being a bitch too, but it’s different. I was a bitch who needs a second paramedic to lift the stretcher bar onto the frame when it had someone on, you were a bitch who can bench press, like, two hundred pounds and can kick in a front door. Big men scare women, it’s just a fact.”

That didn’t seem to help, he only seemed to slump down a little further, and you sealed your lips into a thin line.

“If it makes you feel any better, I’m not scared of you now. It’s just.. tense.” He sighed, reaching out and taking the glass of wine from your hands, before taking that to his mouth, and chugging a good half of the glass, before hanging it back, and grimacing a little.

“I hate wine.” You only laughed a little under your breath, the back of his hand travelling over his mouth as he wiped it clear. “I don’t want you to be scared of me, and it really sucks that you were, because I’d never hurt you. Or anyone, really.”

“It was more scary in an I’m-being-yelled-at-by-someone-twice-my-size way, not that I thought you’d ever.. do that..” You sighed, placing the bottle and the glass down on the counter, and leaning back against it, your head dropping to rest in your hands. “I fucked it all up again, already.”

You heard him move, the thought that he may just leave crossing over your mind, but fingers wrapped around your wrists, pulling them away from your face, and stepping back as your hand dropped to your side. He only stood a couple of feet from you, staring down at you with wide eyes that were full of nothing but sorrow, and you felt terrible for having put that emotion there in the first place.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin the night.”

“I’m sorry for yelling at you on the first day, and making you scared about working with me.” He shrugged, silence falling between you both again. “For the record, you are worth it.”

Your breath hitched in your lungs a little, the compliment meaning more to you than he could possibly know, yet he seemed to sense it, moving forwards by a fraction of an amount as he deemed it safe and acceptable to do so.

“I know what I said on that day was unfair, and you’ve proven me wrong, countless times.” A large hand found your shoulder, slipping down until he was squeezing at your forearm lightly, and there was a burn in the back of your throat threatening tears if you weren't careful. “You’re great at your job, and I think you’re a real asset to the team, and we’re lucky to have you.”

“Well, shit, now I feel bad for tricking you into saying you have a small dick.”

He laughed, loudly, and the sound you let out to match cracked a little bit, but it gave you a second’s reprieve to sniff away your emotions, choking them down as you tried to get it under control. “I got deep with you and that’s what you want to say?”

“I’m not good with the deep stuff!”

“Clearly!” He sighed, his hand dropping from your arm to wipe over his face as he looked more entertained than upset now, and you shrugged. “Okay, how about this. Let’s just start over, alright? You don’t need to feel tense around me, and I promise that you never have to worry about me hurting you. I wouldn’t do that.”

You paused, staring up at him, searching for any hint of a lie, before giving in, and raising your hand between your bodies. His palm slipped against your own, shaking it as though the pair of you were meeting for the first time, and he cracked a grin at the action. Your name fell from your lips, introducing yourself to him, and he followed suit, offering his name in return, and you felt like the past was truly being washed away this time, something you could let go of, watching it float away downstream in water under the bridge.

“Hey, you two gonna’ come join us for movie night, or are you going to spend the evening holding hands in the kitchen?”

Newt tapped his hands on the doorframe, a wicked grin on his face, and you were about to protest, before realising your hand was still clasped in Thomas’, and your mouth was dry as you found yourself at a loss for words. Dropping his hand, you grabbed at the bottle you’d left and the glass, deciding to just take both with you, and Thomas laughed a little as he followed behind, hand shifting to sit on your lower back as he fell into step behind you.

Newt flopped back down into his seat on the floor in front of the couch, and as you moved to navigate through the hoards filling the floors, a hand grabbed your wrist, bringing you to a halt, and you stumbled a little as Thomas crashed into you from the sudden pause, finding Brenda looking up at you with a grin and holding her glass out, half of the content missing.

The man beside you moved past, going to take his seat once again, and you topped her glass up, your own following, before clinking it against hers and grinning at the loud ‘cheers’ she let out as you did, before taking a sip to match her.

“Told you I’d have you converted over to wine in no time.”

“I chose this bottle, don’t you forget.” You winked, backing up a little bit as she settled back into the cushions, her shoulder pressing up to Minho’s side, and you smiled softly at the causal interaction between them both.

“Yeah, well, next time it’ll be me picking, and I’ll have you drinking the good stuff!”

You scoffed, knowing her insult in your taste was a joke, and probably well-founded, because you had no idea what ‘good wine’ consisted of, choosing instead to wander away and take your seat, trying not to spill your drink on anyone as you went.

Gally shuffled up the couch a little further as you approached, and Newt was blocking your seat, and when you nudged him with your toes, his only response was grinning up at you cheekily as he stretched his legs out in front of himself on the carpet; clearly a refusal to move as you were challenged with clambering past him to get to the cushions.

Thomas chuckled, holding his hands out for the bottle and the glass you held as he placed his own down on the table beside the end of the couch, what looked like whiskey in a tumbler, with a couple of half-melted ice-cubes floating in the liquid that matched the colour of his eyes. You handed them off to him, watching as he placed the bottle down on the counter, holding your glass in his other hand as one arm stretched out along the back of the couch, an amused look on his face as you tried to step past Newt.

Each time you lifted your foot up, blocking you off again, and you stumbled a little, trying to hold your balance and not fall into the crowded mass around the floor as you went, a collection of laughs beginning to bubble up as you became the centre of attention. Chuck was fiddling with the remotes on the TV, and Gally had offered a stabilising hand out to you, the fingers of one of your hands was wrapped around his forearm as you giggled, trying to simply sit down.

“You gonna’ take a seat so we can watch, or are you just going to stand there?”

You glared at Newt, unable to hold the smile off of your face for long, before you were bursting with giggles once again, almost falling, and clinging to Gally for support. “Well, if someone would get out of my way, I’d be able to!”

“I’m not doing anything!” Your blond partner insisted, crossing his arms over his chest and sitting back down normally without blocking any space off, and you thought you’d finally get away with it, and you lifted a leg to step over him and try and fold a leg against the cushions to sit down. Once you were balanced on one foot, though, he acted, raising up to pinch at the back of your knee, the leg still on the floor going weak, and you fell.

You toppled forwards, half landing against Gally and half in the cushions as you tried to swerve, a yelp being cut off as you hit the couch, and he continued to pinch at your leg, making you jerk the limb away from him and crawl up the couch, snatching it back from him as the contact tickled, until your back was pressed to Thomas’ side and you were kicking at Newt’s hand, the laughter in the room fading away as you swiped at your friend.

“There we go, now was that so hard?”

“You are the devil, Newt.” You hissed, lunging for him a little as he stuck his tongue out at you playfully, and you placed a hand behind you, one pushing on the couch cushions, the other on Thomas’ knee as you pushed forwards, an arm wrapping around your waist to hold you backwards as Newt cracked up, and your own laughter came bubbling up.

Yanked back down into your seat, Thomas slipped his arm free, letting it spread back out along the couch, and handing you the glass of wine. Your face was flushed with warmth, energy fizzling through you, and you took a sip, cooling yourself with the cold drink. You mumbled your thanks to Gally for his support, the opening credits of the movie loading up, and you settled back, still slightly pressed into the side of your new allegiance as you tried to catch your breath.

Stretching out a little, your leg fell over Newt’s shoulder, crooking at the knee, and he reached a hand up to sit on your ankle, squeezing a little in comfort before the room was falling quiet, Minho dimming the lights down, and Chuck began to explain the movie he was watching.

Your heart was still racing, and yet you’d never felt more comfortable. There was no bad energy in the room, you didn’t feel uncomfortable with Thomas sitting beside you, you didn’t feel excluded or left out, you simply felt loved and accepted. For the first time in your life, you truly felt like you belonged.

[foodieforthoughts]

Sand and Stars - Prologue

Series Summary: After the water pump being blown up, the insurgents in Baqubah are taking a hold of the food supply to the village. Camp Warhorse is in dire need of reinforcements. It has been eight months of submitting countless requests when the High Command commissions Sergeant Olivia Ross to take her group of men and women and help Captain Syverson and his team to restore a semblance of normalcy. But with the war raging, does it get two hearts closer too?

Pairing: Captain Syverson x OFC x OMC

Word Count: 1925

Warnings: 18+, Mentions of war, military technicalities, smut in future chapters

A/N: This (x) has finally taken birth. I am very excited about this fic, it is literally the only thing I can focus on right now. A big thanks to @thelastsock​ for beta-ing this. Sending her lot of love and good health, always. Please don’t come down on me if I have gotten any of the army-related things wrong, because this is a work of fiction.

Title: Prologue

Olivia Ross was everything but a heavy sleeper. She slept like a feral cat ready to jump at even the slightest bit of disturbance. And that is why she was wide awake at 3 a.m.

The sound of Alex’s snores, deep and rumbling, echoed from beside her. A strong arm was draped tightly over her torso-his bull’s head tattoo peeking out from under his sleeve. Olivia looked to her side and sighed.

She hated sneaking out of his room the next day. The walk of shame she could take-her squad mates were already bored by the gossip of yesteryears-but the imminent questioning that Alex would barrage her with later, was what broke her.

Carefully, Olivia moved his arm from over her body and slid out from the bunk bed they were sharing. She watched as Alex turned to the other side and a moment later, continued snoring; oblivious to the loss of bodily warmth from besides him.

Grabbing her discarded clothes piled on the floor and hurriedly pulling them on, Olivia grabbed her dog tags from the table. Her eyes also fell on the other chain lying on the metal desk; a Saint Christopher Medal in a silver chain which Alex had gotten for her the last time he had flown home. Reluctantly, she grabbed the chain and wore it with her dog tags and swiftly snuck out of the Captain’s room.

As soon as Olivia was out in the corridors of the Baghdad base camp, the sweet noise of military men going about their duties graced her ears. She looked around as she made her way towards the ladies quarters; some of the men were loading up their Humvees for a patrol around the city, a few of them out for their morning run and then there were others like her who were hurrying away to reach their beds.

Closing the door to her quarters, Olivia was met with two sets of narrowed eyes looking at her. “Busy night there, Sergeant Ross?” The smugness in their voices, nothing new but annoying nonetheless, made Olivia roll her eyes.

“Aren’t you guys supposed to be sleeping?” She laid on her bed-her legs dangling from the ends-feeling relaxed more than she was when sleeping next to Alex.

A loud bang on the hard metal door interrupted them. A young private recruit peaked inside, her cheeks going red as she came face to face with her seniors.

Raising her head from her bed, Olivia looked at the blushing Private edging around the door. “What is it, Private?”

“Uhm…”

“You need to speak faster, sister. No one’s going to be waiting that long for you to finish your sentences.” Sergeant Sloan, a blond beauty with Victoria’s Secret model’s look, said from her bunk on the other side of the room.

“I was told to get Sergeant Ross to Lieutenant Crowley.”

Olivia nodded at the soldier and she hurried out, closing the door behind her. “What does Crowley want?”

“Hopefully, he sends us somewhere. I’m tired of looking at the same old shaved heads around here.” Corporal Sierra said from her corner of the room. Both the ladies laughed at their joke, Sloan snorting while laughing and Sierra basking in her comedic skills. Olivia smiled looking at her fellow bunk mates, loving their laughter ringing in the dilapidated and make-shift room.

After taming her wild bed hair into a braid and pulling on a fresh set of clothes to meet the lieutenant, Olivia made her way towards the central meeting hub. Lieutenant Crowley was a balding man in his late fifties, irritating beyond belief and the epitome of a male chauvinist. Olivia looked at him while he shuffled through his folders and pulled out one to hand over to her.

“You need to go to Baqubah.” His nasally voice ordered, his height an inch shorter than hers.

“Sir?” Olivia looked down at the brown manila folder in her hand. Camp Warhorse was written below the bold printed letters of Baqubah.

“They had a water problem which was not fixed and now the militants have been targeting the food supply trucks entering the city.” He pulled out another folder from underneath the table, handing it to her with a grunt. “They need air support, but Command wants us to only send one. You can take the Little Bird and two Humvees with any twelve members for your unit. I’m making you responsible for the mission.”

“What are we to do there? Can’t we just drop food rather than driving it in-?” Olivia opened the first folder to find a letter of co-ordinates and sitreps from the Captain stationed at the camp.

“They have asked for help. You’ll meet with the Captain there and gauge the situation personally. Is that clear, Sergeant?”

When anyone pulls rank on the other, it usually means the conversation is over. So, Olivia with her two manila folders, nodded at Lieutenant Crowley and turned to walk away. “Sergeant, you leave in two hours.”

Perfect. She turned to nod at the Lieutenant who had already sat down to get back to his work.

Olivia made her way back towards the quarters from the hub. The base camp looked more alive now that almost everyone was awake. Loud music blared from the speakers with shirtless men playing basketball or getting their daily workout in. Olivia opened the folder and took the first paper in her hand; it was a sitrep from eight months ago from Captain Syverson about the blast at the water pump they were supposedly fixing. She went through the report, noticing Sergeant Harper’s name whom she personally knew from a previous mission.

Lost in her task at hand, Olivia missed the man coming her way and bumped into him, her steps faltering behind with the impact. When she looked up, the unmistaken glare of two narrowed blue-green eyes met her own. She let out a sigh even before he could speak another word.

“Captain Cooper,” She greeted the man whom she had only left a couple of hours ago. “Good morning.”

“You snuck out, again.” The harshness in his voice made Olivia remember why she despised this particular exchange of words in the morning. Alex, unlike the state she had left him in, was now dressed in his army pants and the beige army t-shirt with his hair groomed to the nines. Never a day did Alex show up with disheveled hair and unshaven, he was always the well-groomed kind of man that romance novels idealized about.

“Crowley wanted me for a briefing,” she showed him the folders, “We leave for Baqubah in under two hours. Going to be delivery guys for them.”

Alex scrunched his eyebrows as his attention from last night’s shenanigans were drawn to the mission at hand. He took the folders from her and shifted through the papers. “Baqubah? Wasn’t there an unsuccessful mission already?”

The change in his tone, from the attention seeking friend to a decorated military man, made Olivia realize why she had fallen for him in the first place. It was that very dedication to his work, the life choice that he had made, that had made her pursue him like an eagle does it’s prey.

Too bad the eagle realized it wasn’t really hungry.

“Liv?” Alex asked, the long lashes lining his eyes fluttering as he looked at her.

“Yeah, but there’s an insurgence of militants and food supply shortage.” He handed the folders back to her, crossing his arms over his chest. The sleeve of his t-shirt stretched over his muscles, revealing the tattoos on either side of his arms. A single vein stretched over each of his bulging biceps, taunting her with the memories of her tracing it with her fingertips.

Olivia shook her head, choosing to look behind Alex and spotting her unit coming her way. “I need to go. I haven’t even told my people.” She started to walk away when Alex held her wrist. She looked at him wide-eyed and frantically looked around to see if anyone was looking at them. This was the first time Alex was being so forthcoming about their twisted relationship out in the open.

“Were you going to at least say goodbye?”

Olivia froze hearing the pain in his voice. She did not wish to discuss whatever was going on between them. In a deep corner of her mind, she was secretly happy that she was being sent away from the base camp. It meant she could think about a way to gently let Alex know that they were done.

“Alex,” the use of his informal name, always made him smile. Olivia used it to her advantage on more than one occasion. “We need to head out. I need to brief them. Please can we do this later?”

She wanted to wait for his answer but when her eyes darted to the makeshift clock hanging on the wall, that the men had put together one night after getting drunk on local liquor, showed she had over an hour and half to roll out; Olivia mouthed a ‘sorry’ and walked away. She hated when she left Alex standing like that, alone and dejected. She was the cause of this shit-show, but she had no idea how to end it.

“Groundhog, this is echo 1-1, we are set to fly out the nest. Over.” Sergeant Gary Schmidt, Olivia's most trusted co-pilot, said into the communications line. They had gathered a group of twelve soldiers, including Olivia’s bunk mates Sloan and Sierra and were now ready to leave for Camp Warhorse. The blades of their chopper, the beautiful and reliable MH-6 Little Bird, whirred by cutting the dry air of Baghdad.

“This is Groundhog to Echo 1-1. You are cleared for flight. Over.”

Olivia looked to her right at Schmidt and gave a thumbs up. “Echo 1-1 is flying out. Welcome on board, people.” She said into her comms, controlling the stick and feeling the skids lift off from the ground.

In an unplanned glance towards the tarmac, Olivia caught sight of Alex standing a few feet away with his face impassive; lips pursed tight and eyes covered with shades, the last thing Olivia saw before they flew off from the Baghdad Base Camp.

“What a dump of desert and sand, Red.” Schmidt said into the comms to her, making her smile being referenced by her nickname and distracting her from the unsettling feeling she had by looking at Alex. Her command officer had jokingly compared her hair to fire after one heated argument she had with a fellow soldier and called her ‘Red’, making the name become a core part of her identity. “Baqubah better be forgiving.” Schmidt continued as they turned towards the road leading up to the destroyed city.

An hour into the flight and their comms came alive. “This is Warhorse to Echo 1-1.” Olivia looked at her co-pilot and nodded her head to take over the communications. In the distance, over the expanse of the dry desert, the heat was coming down hard on them, making little beads of sweat form on the underside of their helmets.

“Echo 1-1, receiving, over.”

“Echo 1-1, this is Captain Syverson,” the previous emotionless voice was replaced by a strongly accented one. Olivia was borderline impressed by Syverson's command in his voice. She looked at Schmidt at the same time he did-they always referred to each other as ‘twins’ because their minds were almost always in sync. “The tarmac is ready for your landing. Welcome to Warhorse.”

Chapter One>

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[aka-ashi-keiji]

“i can’t hear you”

Bakugou Katsuki x best friend reader

soft angst

tw: screaming, emotional meltdown.

short fic about bakugou and you’re his childhood best friend, and you help him through dealing with his hearing loss. enjoy lovies.

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

You woke up to the sound of your mother knocking on your door and yelling, “y/n wake up, you have training today with katsuki. i love that boy but i am not in the mood to deal with his explosive attitude over you being late .” You lived right next door to katsuki all your life and since your moms were best friends, you guys were best friends since you learned how to walk. Every saturday you guys would train from 8 AM to noon in his garage since it was basically a mini gym, and then after you both would head over to your house. You checked the time on your phone on the bedside table and it read 7:50. “SHIT MOM WHY DIDN’T YOU WAKE ME UP SOONER” you yelled as you jumped out of bed and quickly found a black tank top and grey sweatpants to train in. You could hear your mom chuckling as she walked away from your door. You grabbed your headphones, phone, water bottle, and Nike’s before yelling a goodbye and dashing over to Katsuki’s front yard. 

You knocked on his door four times so that his family knew it was you. You were halfway through slipping your shoes on when Mitsuki answered. She yawned and pulled you into a side hug. “Good morning y/n, you hungry?” She asked as she closed the door behind you guys and started towards the kitchen. “No thanks Mitsuki, I don’t like to train on a full stomach. My mom is making a huge lunch though, you guys are welcome to join us.” You said cheerfully, but kept your voice low since it was very early and you could tell Katsuki’s mom was still half asleep. She nodded and then whipped her head to face you wearing a look on her face as if she had just remembered something very important. “Kat has been very on edge lately and not very responsive this week.” She paused before starting again and turned her gaze to the floor, almost as if she didn’t want to talk. “I think it might have to do with his hearing. He won’t admit it, but I think his quirk is finally starting to affect him. Good thing we put him in those sign language classes as a precaution.” she laughed dryly and then turned back to look at you. “Just, take it easy him with the teasing today okay? and maybe try speaking a little louder. I’ll go see if he’s ready” and with that she gathered herself up the stairs and disappeared. 

You thought silently as you waited, and all of a sudden it made sense. Lately at school bakugou has been yelling more than usual, and telling everyone to speak louder. Maybe he was yelling more to be able to hear himself? You didn’t know. Bakugou has been learning sign language since he was 7 years old as a precaution for this and has been regularly signing while he talks since he was 10. So, bakugou using his sign language all the time wasn’t uncommon, but maybe Mitsuki was right. You made a mental note not to say anything until you actually noticed a big change in your guys’ training. You waited patiently for about another 10 minutes before Katsuki finally came downstairs. 

“Hey idiot, nice outfit.” Katsuki greeted you in his groggy morning voice, his hands signing his words lazily. You looked down at the tank top and sweatpants you were wearing and looked back to him, you both were wearing the same exact thing. “Morning pom pom” you greeted back as you gathered your things and started to head towards the garage. You turned around to see bakugou staring into nothing, so you called out. “Hey kat, you coming?” No response. You repeated yourself, but this time loud enough you were sure you woke his dad. He whipped his head towards you and nodded before following along. As you were walking down the hall, you turned to him and asked, “You okay?” while signing your words. Katsuki looked down at your hands and his cheeks started to dust with the lightest shade of pink. He huffed and his red eyes sparked as he just growled out a ‘yeah’ and walked ahead of you into the garage, starting to set up for your session. You yourself had picked up sign language at a young age because your dad was deaf because his quirk was being able to shoot sonic booms from his hands. you pressed the button to open the garage door and let some light in. You then walked over to the speakers and plugged your phone in as you hit play on your playlist specifically for training days. Bakugou stopped setting up the bench press station and yelled, “Can you turn it up? “ as he signed quickly, but then went back to putting the weights together. You turned back to the speaker only to be surprised since the volume was already almost at max capacity. You shook your head and turned the volume all the way up. This session should be interesting. 

It was around 9:30 AM at this point and you and Kat had finished weights and went on a 2 mile run. You were currently sitting on the floor stretching your quads as the loud techno music boomed around you. You glanced over at katsuki who was stretching on the other side of the garage and he seemed to be in a whole other universe. You called out to him, but he didn’t do so much as flinch. You picked yourself up off the floor and slowly walked towards him. You called a few more times and still got nothing from him, so you decided to turn off the music. As soon as you did Katsuki’s head shot up and his eyes darted towards you. “What the hell was that for dipshit? We’re gonna start sparring soon, we need it.” He said/yelled at you while you sauntered over to him and took a seat about a foot away from his now steaming body. You wiped the sweat from your forehead with the back of your arm before talking to katsuki, well you didn’t exactly talk with your voice, you were mostly signing. “Katsuki are you sure you’re okay? You’re not responding when I call out for you.” You waited for his response as his eyes stayed on your hands that were once moving. This time he answered, but for some reason he didn’t sign. “If I tell you, you can’t tell a single soul you hear me dumbass? Not even my parents. “ You nodded your head and gently reach over to squeeze his hand four times, your guys’ way of saying I promise. He then began to talk, and signed very aggressively as he did so, and what he said was enough to shatter you into a million pieces. 

 “I’ve been struggling in a way lately,” he started, “I tried to cover it up by just yelling all the time hoping people would just think it was my normal behavior. But, really it was so i could he hear myself.” Katsuki let out a long breath and you could see his hands slightly shaking. “It started out last week as just a slight ringing, but it got louder every damn day. But, this week the ringing got quieter, and eventually everything around me started to sound like I was underwater. “ He looked up at you and your breath hitched, tears rolled down katsuki’s face as he held eye contact. He shook out his hands and took another shakey breath before he began, “I- I can barely hear you y/n! And its so frusturating.” the volume of his voice was rising, and you could see the pain he was feeling through his eyes and the tears that were now dripping down to his shirt. “I can’t hear your fucking voice damnit! It’s the only one that doesn’t drive me up fucking walls.  it terrifies me!” He was screaming at this point as his hands worked through the air to express his words. The tears came at a much quicker pace once he had stopped to breathe, and those tear turned into sobs as he curled in on himself. He tucked his knees to his chest and ducked his head into his arms as they wrapped around his legs. His shoulders and back shook as he cried, and for a moment you didn’t know what to do. You haven’t seen Katsuki cry since you both were 8 years old and he was playing with his quirk and accidently blasted your arm. He started crying as soon as he heard you wail in pain, and the lecture from his mother didn’t help in the slightest. You subconsciously reached up to rest your hand on the scar as you tried to think of what you could say to him.

 Katsuki leveled his head and looked up at you, and slowly reached his hand out, still crying quietly. For a second you didn’t know what he meant, but it soon clicked in your head and you took his hand in yours. you looked at him with teary eyes and signed, “How can i help?” He untucked his legs from his chest and moved closer to you. Then, before you could even register what was happening, Katsuki had his arms around your waist with his head on your shoulder. You froze, it had been quite some time since either of you had needed a hug like this. once your shock had subsided, you brought your hands to rest on his upper back and rubbed soothingly. He began to cry again, which then led to sobs just like they had before. You began to talk, whispering variations of ‘I’m here’ and ‘You don’t have to be scared’, only to remember that he probably can’t hear you. Seeing katsuki as vulnerable as this broke your heart, and single tear fell from your face. Katsuki could feel your jaw muscles moving against the side of his face, so he knew you were talking, but he couldn’t hear you. “I- i- i- I can’t hear! I can’t hear you! Y/n I can’t hear you, fix it please, please I hate this so much!” He screamed into your shoulder which luckily muffled it enough to not draw any attention from the neighbors. He gripped onto your waist tighter as he breathed long and hard breaths. “I’m so scared. I’m terrified of losing you.” He whispered. This had confused you so you gently placed your hands on his shoulders and put a bit of distance between you guys so he could see you signing. “What do you mean you’re gonna lose me? I’m not going anywhere.” You said and waited for his response. He brought his trembling hands up to start signing and began, “I’m scared that if i can’t hear you, I won’t hear you calling me for help when you’re in danger. What kind of hero am I if i can’t even save my best friend?” You took one of his hands in yours and began to sign with your other. “You’re gonna be okay, We’re both gonna get you through this. I know you, and you don’t take shit from no one. And I know damn well you’re not gonna let a little hearing loss get in the way of beating deku.” He laughed slightly at the last statement, and seeing his small smile was like the world coming off of your shoulders. “We’ll take you to the doctor, they’ll help you.” He shook his head at that and his angry glowering returned. “It’s not anything to be embarrassed about. And I’m sure your parents would do anything to help you become the hero you want to be.” You finished your monologue and squeezed his hand four times, promising him you’re not going anywhere. He smiled down at his hand and then brought his other one up to sign, “I love you shithead” and you signed back, “Yeah I know, I love you too Kat”.

 He began to stand up and Katsuki pulled you up with him.  He immediately pulled you into the tightest bear hug possible. No one knew, but Katsuki was the biggest hugger, and it was your favorite thing about him. You released your arms from his waist and he released his hold around your shoulders. You took the sides on his face in your hands, and pointed to your lips as a signal to read your words. He nodded his head, and in a volume Katsuki couldn’t hear, you said, “I can hear you, I can hear you.”. He nodded and smiled the most genuine smile you’d seen out of him in years. “You ready?” he signed, and you answered “for what?”. He smirked and was quiet for a few seconds before shoving you to the side a little and running off towards your house. “Race you!” he yelled, “First one there, is your mom’s favorite you loser.” Kat called again. You smiled and shook your head as you sprinted off after him, remembering this is the Katsuki that will be the #1 hero someday. 

***************************************🌸

[anauthore]

Not Much of A Partygoer (Kenny McCormick x Reader) {SERIES | Two}

Summary: (Y/n) drinks to forget her parents. Good thing Kenny is great at handling drunk people.

Pairing: Kenny McCormick x Reader (she/her pronouns) - South Park

NOTE: Every part of this series can be read as stand-alone, or as part of the series itself! If you don’t want to read each part on Tumblr, feel free to check out links to the work on the below websites:

Wattpad | Quotev | AO3

Fic Below the Cut | Previous Part | Next Part

The door slammed. You didn’t flinch because, unfortunately, you were used to things like that. Your door was ajar and your earbuds were in. Even though one side was quieter than the other, they did a good enough job blasting music into your ears and drowning out the noise of arguing and yelling.

* * *

The night, again, was cold. It always seemed like it was chilly here in Colorado, but you didn’t really mind. You liked the cold, anyway. You’d always thought that being cold was better than being hot.

The wind was surprisingly absent as you walked toward the address you’d scribbled on a piece of paper, squinting to search for the numbers on each mailbox in order to ensure you were in the right place. When you did eventually get there, though, the abundance of noise and flashing lights in the window was all you needed to confirm that you had indeed shown up at the party that you had, for some reason, been invited to.

You walked up the walkway, your feet gripping the stone easily as it had both been shoveled and salted. You naively knocked on the door before realizing there was a doorbell. You ringed it a couple times, waiting for an answer, but when none came, you leaned toward an opened window to peek inside.

Just as you focused on two dark-haired boys chatting in the corner with cups filled with what you assumed was alcohol, the door opened and the noise rushed into the open like waves crashing over you.

* * *

You had been in the middle of switching songs. The angry music you listened to only exasperated your feelings, and you weren’t in the mood for sad sounds. To your dismay, you never got the chance to hear whatever it is you were searching for.

Your door, already propped open so that your mom could see you were diligently working on your schoolwork, slammed against the opposite wall with enough force that you jumped. You looked up and locked eyes with your mom’s boyfriend- he was standing in the doorway and gesturing wildly, still in his Winter jacket with his tie peeking out from over the top.

His voice boomed as you were well accustomed to, but even then you couldn’t keep his words from drowning you.

“And your daughter, this little wench, she’s probably a slut just like you! Look at her; look at her room! And the clothes she wears, it’s completely unacceptable. If I were anyone else I’d be after her right now.”

You furrowed your brows in disgust and anger. What the fuck was happening? You opened your mouth to say something, but you couldn’t get a word out before he stood to the side and pointed into the hallway, looking directly at you as he commanded you toward the kitchen.

* * *

In the doorway was the silhouette of someone you recognized, and though you wouldn’t consider her a friend to you, she sure was a sight for sore eyes. 

Wendy Testaburger waved to you and smiled happily, as she always did, and then beckoned you inside. You couldn’t help but smile back at her as you climbed the steps, and, like she did with almost every girl she saw, she enveloped you in a tight hug before she let you go.

“I’m so glad you came! I was starting to think you’d never show.” She closed the door behind you and instantly you were a hundred times warmer. You almost felt suffocated.

“Yeah, well, I had nothing else better to do.” You shrugged it off.

She rolled her eyes playfully and picked up a cup from the side table that you assumed was hers. You didn’t have to peek inside to know that the liquid that sloshed around inside the plastic barrier was not alcohol. Wendy didn’t drink.

“Here, follow me,” she beckoned you over and started walking through the sparse crowd in the living room. You glanced around and recognized some kids from school, but obviously none of them were your friends. 

“So, this is the punch, and this is the punch.” She chuckled softly, shaking her head only slightly and handed you a plastic cup that looked like both hers and everyone else’s.

“Choose wisely.”

* * *

“(Y/n), do you mind telling me what the fuck you think you’re doing?” 

You looked to your mother for comfort, but she was just as angry as her partner. You had no idea what to say, so you shrugged.

“Don’t shrug at me! You know damn well what you’re getting into, sleeping around and doing drugs. Don’t act like you don’t know!”

You reached your breaking point. You felt your own voice rise up out of your chest and scream, all the words that were bouncing around in your brain finally forming into something other than thoughts.

“I’m not doing fucking anything! You’re so preoccupied with blaming me that you forget you’re dating a crackhead with a daughter who hasn’t done jack. shit. You think I wanna end up like her, dating someone like you?”

The cold slap that stung on your cheek froze you. This time, your mother was fuming, her fist balled up as tight as she could make it.

You scoffed, tears threatening to fall from your eyes as you pushed back your chair and slammed the door shut behind you, welcoming the wind as you strode toward any direction at all. Anywhere that would take you away from here.

* * *

  The moment the punch touched your lips, you were instantly warmed. You sighed and watched Wendy walk away, waving as she departed and fazed into the crowd. It was quiet where you stood; the tiny nook in the kitchen where the two bowls sat are the only thing that drew people into the room. You thought about leaning against the wall and staying away from everyone, but you were cold, and it was warmer where all the action was, so you headed towards the living room with an arm wrapped around your frame and your hand gripping your cup.

Music vibrated the floor through huge speakers stationed in the corner of the room, and you were grateful that it wasn’t any louder than that. Some kids sung to themselves while others were swaying to the rhythm; everyone was congregated in some sort of group, leaving you to be the odd one out. As always.

Or at least, you were for a moment or two before one of the boys in the corner came over to recruit you for a game of beer pong. You shook your head, and he nodded, stalking off to find someone else- behind him trailed a familiar blond, probably looking for the same thing. Your gaze met his for a brief moment; you don’t know what you expected, but he left as quickly as he had come.

You took another sip. And then another. Two more trips to refill your cup later, Wendy once again met you in the kitchen.

“Hey girl! Having fun?”

You smiled politely, and muttered a reply, but of course she knew better. 

“C’mon, (Y/n)! It’s not a party unless you’re enjoying yourself. Actually- wanna join my team? We’re playing beer pong, we need one more person for it to be even.”

You hesitated, but you didn’t get a chance to answer before she walked off, expecting you to follow her.

And that you did. You caught up and followed her like a dog, not wanting the crowd to close in on you and trap you in the sea of strangers. You barely paid attention to her, your eyes glued to her feet as she weaved in and out of rooms and obstacles until finally, finally, you reached the garage.

The draft made you shiver. There were significantly less people here than inside, but the atmosphere was playful as the small group of beer-pongers whooped and cheered for Wendy, having made the score even. You smiled nervously, finishing the last of your drink before setting the cup down on whatever clear surface available.

Wendy stood with you and two other girls who you didn’t recognize at all, while the opposing team was made up of Kenny, the black-haired guy you saw walking around earlier, some redhead, and the ever infamous Cartman. You had an opinion on at least a few people here, but your facial expression gave nothing away. You just watched, and when it was your turn, you played.

You missed your first few shots, with jeers from Cartman and the telltale mumbling of Kenny, followed by laughter and kind words from Wendy. The fifth or so time around, one of your teammates was getting fed up with you.

“Fuck, why can’t you make a ball! We’re getting obliterated! Are you already that drunk?” 

“Bebe! C’mon, she has as much of a chance as anyone here.” You could tell she was holding back a smile just to be polite. The boys snickered and your face turned red, but that could also be the alcohol settling in your empty stomach. 

"Hey, make another shot.” One of the kids opposite to you nodded his head in your direction, glancing at your hands before he tossed a white ping-pong ball toward you to catch. You did so in the palm of your hand, looking at Wendy for approval. You prepared yourself once more, planting your foot and squinting an eye to aim. Then, the ball that had been grasped so gingerly between your thumb and forefinger was released, and unsurprisingly, you missed any and all cups in front of you. You sighed and stepped back, but then your opponent spoke once more.

“Now, drink. Here, take mine.” He searched around and handed you his cup full of punch, which you had no other choice but to take from him. Cartman snickered and you stared into the liquid’s daunting face before drinking. Around you erupted clapping and laughter.

“Alright, so (Y/n)’s gonna drink every time she misses? That’s a little unfair, don’t you think?”

Wendy tapped Bebe’s arm and shook her head, then whispered something into her ear. Bebe rolled her eyes and seemed to drop the subject, though her attitude didn't waver.

Not many more rounds later, and everything started to spin. The walls were moving back and forth like you were on a boat, and your feet couldn't feel the floor underneath you anymore. Your mind buzzed as you fumbled with the ball and tossed- you didn’t see where it went, but you did hear the crescendo of ‘ooo’-ing rise around you. Wendy moved in front of you, taking hold of your shoulders and shaking you, a huge smile on her face. Her voice was shrill and easy enough to focus on; “You did it! You made the shot!”

“I- what?” You looked behind her and saw the sea of red cups half-filled with liquid, and in the midst of one, an unmistakable white orb. A cheeky smile spread across your face and you laughed. “I did it- holy shit, I did it! I get to drink!”

Wendy stepped out of the way and watched as you stepped forward and plucked the cup of alcohol off the table, tossing the ball to the side and chugging it. It burned, especially on the edge of your lips, but the warmth spread throughout your body and you quickly forgot about the burning sensation. You sat the cup down- the empty plastic fell to the side and you wiped your mouth and neck with your sleeve, cringing at the stickiness the drink left behind. You swayed, smiled, and gave two thumbs up to the other team, who started to laugh at your antics.

“Woah, okay, (Y/n), look at me.” 

Wendy’s hand supported your back as you stumbled. The muffled party music had somehow infiltrated your brain, and you swear you could feel it. In your chest, your hands, your… toes.

“Look, guys, she’s fuckin’ trashed. Who wants to bet on when she’ll dance topless on the table?”

Someone elbowed Cartman in the side and he glared back. Wendy shot him a dirty look and nudged you toward the garage door, but your drunken state was clearly something she was not used to handling.

“(Y/n)- c’mon, we have to get you some food. Or at least to lay down, okay?”

You nodded, but then shook your head. “No, no I wanna play, I’m just getting good!”

Wendy opened her mouth to speak, but someone else interrupted her before she could.

“Hey, here, let me help.” 

Kenny stepped around the white, pop-up table and ignored the nudges from Cartman and Stan. Wendy turned to look at him, sans his orange parka, with a raised brow. He, of course, completely understood the implications his demeanour had on this sort of situation. In any other case, Wendy would not let someone like him near a drunk girl such as yourself, but in this instance, he was way better at handling these situations than she was.

He put his hand around the small of your back, with the other hand on your shoulder to steer you. He pushed you toward the door and said something to Wendy. It was apparently the right thing to say, because she nodded and went back to the game, though not after she made sure you were safely in the other room.

The lights were darker inside than in the garage, so you found yourself depending on Kenny to guide you around. Your closeness allowed the telltale scent of cigarettes and musk, and now alcohol, to find its way to your nose, and immediately you were taken back to the night however many weeks ago that you’d been with him.

He steadied you as you swayed back and forth, nudging you up the stairs and into a room with a bed. You laughed, and he said something that you couldn’t quite make out before you realized he wanted you to lay down. You tried to shed your jacket, but the material felt disgusting to your senses, so you gave up and collapsed into the blankets. Your whole body buzzed, like every nerve ending was set on fire but at the same time lulled to sleep.

Kenny closed the door. The old floor underneath you creaked as he approached, and his hands found your body- they were surprisingly warm, and you got lost in his touch. It made you suddenly seem cold, and you tried to push toward him before you realized what could be happening and let the alarm bells go off in your head.

He pulled off the other arm of your windbreaker and threw it to the floor. You looked up, though unable to focus, and found him, back turned to you as he searched for something. Your pulse picked up, and you wanted to run. You knew how this would end- you were drunk, you could barely move, and it was so easy for him to just-

A warmth covered you that was definitely not there before. It was fuzzy, and so soft, and then you realized it was a blanket. You smiled and rubbed your skin against the faux fur, shivering as your heat spread out underneath the cover. You tried to thank Kenny, for being better than you thought he was, but your voice was both muffled by the blanket and by your drunken haze.

Kenny sat next to you and watched you drift in and out of sleep. He stared at a wall, or sometimes at you, but either way he was sensible enough to keep anything or anyone else from coming in to disturb you.

You’d grown used to him being next to you. You’d half-dream, being alerted by the prospect of him moving, and then comforted to find that he was still sitting there, at the end of the mattress, lost in his own thoughts.

Right before you fell to sleep, you’d opened your eyes to find that he was slipping out of the door. You’d spoken, almost pleaded, to him.

“You’re leaving?”

He turned to you with a gaze that you couldn’t place. You could also barely see it. “Uh, I- yeah. I’m just getting a drink.”

You nodded. You didn’t hear him leave, but then again, the buzzing in your head was hard enough to hear past on its own. 

“Thank you so much. Thank you. Thank you, Kenny. Ken. Thanks.” You couldn’t help but smile at his kindness.

You didn’t know if he heard you, but you didn’t care enough to check. With that, your last words of the night, you were out, succumbing to the cocoon of sleep you desperately needed.

[generouspeachheart]

I find it hard to find someone like you

So, I wrote something... I was reading a Spencer Reid x reader fanfic, listening to Doja Cat and this popped into my head. This is my first fanfic, so please be nice. This is supposed to be an introduction aka Chapter 1 of a story i want to write. Enjoy, i guess! If anyone has any feedback, feel free to message me!

Summary: Spencer and Y/N are both pinning after eachother. Spencer is ready to confess his love, Y/N is too. What they don’t suspect though, is Y/N’s dark past to creep up on her.

Spencer Reid x fem!bau!reader

Warnings: Swearing, Pinning. If i missed any, let me know!

Words:1,971

When Hotch announced to the team that the case is officially closed and we were free to go, you were exited to say the least. You hadn’t been feeling your best for the past couple of days. You had a huge fight with your mom and have been trying to get over The Crush. This crush you have on Dr. Reid isn’t the smartest thing, but you can’t help it. Every time he stars talking about something ultra -interesting regarding the case you’re currently working on, he apologises for his ramblings and doesn’t finish what he started. And every time you say Go on I wanna hear what you have to say, he would flush his cute little cheeks and stutter through the rest of the ramble. He sometimes brings you coffee in the morning and when you’re flying on the jet for a case, he always starts up a conversation about some classic he noticed you were reading or knows you had read. He was just the sweetest little thing and you couldn’t help falling for him. But, as you had been a rather new addition to the team, you thought that this was just simply how he was. Until you talked to Garcia.

“He totally likes you!” she screamed in your face one night after a particularly bad case. You sometimes invite her over just to help you sleep better or to just gossip over wine; take your mind off the case. “He’s like that with everyone…” “Y/N.. you don’t actually believe that?” You look down at the floor. “Oh, you sweet little thing. He is definitely not like that with everyone.” “Okay, I’ll humor that. But still, we have a super nice friendship and I don’t want to ruin that. What if he doesn’t like me as much as I like him and just considers me a close friend?” ”Y/N…” ”Could you please drop it Pen, I don’t wanna talk about this right now.” “Sure thing, Boss Lady.”

“Alright, who’s up for a drink?” Derek asks as he turns to the team, pointing fingers at all of us. Emily nods. “Boss Lady?” he asks you. ”I think I’ll have to pass.” “No, but you’re so fun!” cries Emily. “Sorry guys, I can’t I have…” “A date?” Derek asks. “Yep” I say smugly. you notice out of the corner of your eyes, Spencer quickly packing up his stuff to avoid looking at you. “If you can call a bottle of wine and an easel a date.” Spencer raises his head at that. “That’s too bad, Pretty Lady.” “See ya tomorrow, beefcake!” You stand up to leave and wave to all the others as you get to the elevator. “Goodbye everyone.” The others murmur a goodbye to you as well. As the elevator door close, you hear a voice call out. “Hold the door!”. You’d recognize that voice everywhere. It’s the voice you dream of after all. You hold the door and Spencer goes to stand next to you. “Thank you Y/N.” “You’re welcome Spencer-nova.” He looks down at the floor, smiling. He’s quite fond of the nickname you gave him. “So, got any plans for the rest of the evening?” I ask, striking up a conversation just to hear his voice. “Well, I was planning to do some more research on The Cross-Cultural Perspective but after this case I think I’m just going to reread ‘Great Expectations’.” You smile at that. “You know, I did a thesis on that.” “The Great Expectations?” That gets a laugh out of you, which makes Spencer’s soft lips turn into a big grin. “No, on the Cross-Cultural Perspective.” “Oh, I didn’t know that”. He looks surprised. Almost too surprised.

Of course Spencer knew you did a thesis on that. He read it. Seven times. When he heard you were coming to work for the BAU, he went through all of your academic achievements. He just wanted to strike up a conversation about something you are interested in, because usually you talk about his interests. “Yeah, back in college.” “Maybe I should read those then”. “Maybe I should read them to you some time”. Spencer breath hitches. He wasn’t expecting you to propose such a thing. He was delighted by the idea, but his brain couldn’t really catch up with his mouth. “Um…do you…I mean you could…I would… l-like that, I would like that very much.” The tips of his ears turn pink. Bingo. You have successfully flirted with Spencer. Go you! This wasn’t the first time you flirted with Spencer. You have tried many times but to no avail. Even if he would get flustered, he thought you were simply joking, and that that was just how you treated everyone in the team. I mean, you call Derek beefcake, so he just assumed you were joking. Besides, why would someone as smart, gorgeous and extroverted as you want to flirt with someone like Spencer? That just didn’t make sense. But you had been acting strange for the past couple of weeks, following, what he assumed to be, some sort of a fight. He didn’t know whether this fight was with a friend or with a family member, but your eyes just seemed sad. You would zone out sometimes and Spencer got worried. So it was nice to know the jokes were back. Even if your smile didn’t quite reach your eyes.

As the elevator doors to the garage open up, you turned to Spencer. “We’ll see what we can do about the reading, Dr. Reid. Until then, have a good night!” you say, turning around to get to your car. “Good night to you too, Y/N!”

______________________________________________________

A couple of hours and glasses of wine later, you stood in your living room, ‘Streets’ by Doja Cat blasting from the speaker, and a brush in your hand, you heard a slight noise from the bedroom. Paying it no mind, you went to the kitchen to get a bottle opener, coming back to you living room to finish mixing the paint. You empty the bottle of Rose, and start mixing the colors together. Grabbing the now finished glass bottle, you throw it in the air so when it lands back in your hand you’re holding the neck of the bottle. You turn around quickly, the bottom of the bottle colliding with the head of a bulky man, dressed in all black, who had broken into your apartment through the bedroom window. Amongst many things that made you spectacular, was the way you pay attention to your surroundings. You were able to point out even the slightest of changes in the air. “Who the hell are you, and why are you here?” you demand, taking out the handcuffs you took from the drawer in the kitchen and putting in on mans wrists. He didn’t provide an answer. Then you heard a knock at the door. Bending down and taking the gun you keep under your coffee table, you get to the front door. Opening the door, with your hand on the trigger, you see Spencer. He sees the gun before he sees you and puts his hands in the air. “Spencer-nova? What are you doing here?” You ask, opening the door wider, signaling for him to come in. “What’s going on Y/N? Are you okay?” not answering your question. “I’m fine, someone tried breaking into my apartment.”

________________________________________________________

Some time later, the suspect sat in the interrogation room, handcuffed to the chair he was sitting on. “I’m only going to ask you this once, fucker” You say, opening the door to the interrogation room, slamming your hands on the table. “Who do you work for?” “Why do you think I work for anybody?” “Oh, so the little piggy talks, huh? That’s a relief.” “I don’t work for anybody, I just broke in to steal your stuff. I wasn’t expecting you to be fucking James Bond.” “So, you’re telling me you just happened to come across my apartment, and decited to break in?” “Exactly!”

“He’s telling the truth.” Hotch concludes as you exit the room. “Are you sure? Because it doesn’t seem random to me.” “As far as I can tell, he was there to steal something from you.” That doesn’t make sense. Why would he break into my apartment just to steal something? He could’ve waited while I’m not home to do that. I work 15 hours a day, that would definitely be more sufficient. “Were going to arrest him for attempted robbery but that’s about all we can do for now. If you have anything else, run it by me.” “You got it, Boss”

“Hey Y/N, you got anything?” Spencer asks, seeing me ending the conversation with Hotch. “Nothing, no. But it still seems weird.” Spencer takes a look at you as you go to the elevators. Hotch requested you go home and deal with this tomorrow. And since Spencer lives somewhat close, he was instructed to stay with you tonight, seeing as he’s also the one who drove you to the station.

Spencer just now noticed how good you looked tonight. Your hair was in a messy bun, you wore a simple black T-shirt with a name of, what seems to be, a rock band on the front. You had on a long, flowy black skirt and an oversized silky white shirt. You looked absolutely stunning.

With the adrenaline wearing down and the alcohol you consumed coming back to you, you felt really tired. The drive to your apartment complex was mostly quiet, excluding the radio which was playing a familiar song softly. “Look, you don’t have to stay tonight. You live a block away anyway, ill just call you if I need anything.” You couldn’t bear Spencer being so close to you tonight. But he wanted nothing more. He didn’t want to leave you alone, especially not after what happened tonight. He was worried. He wanted to protect you. He opened his mouth to disagree but as he saw the way your eyes were closing and he couldn’t help but shut it. Tonight wasn’t the night then. He wanted to check up on you after you were acting weird the whole week. Surely you would call him if you need him. You’re a grown woman, you can take care of yourself. “Let me at least walk you to your door. Check if there’s anyone else there?” “Fine, Spence, you can walk me to my door.” As much as you didn’t want him there, your heart couldn’t help but flutter at the proposal. That man would be the death of you.

“There, no ones here. You can go now.” You felt bad for making him go home after he was instructed to stay, but you just couldn’t. Sleeping in the same apartment just knowing there is a slight possibility you could be sleeping next to him, cuddled up in his arms, could kill you. Exiting the door to your apartment, Spencer turns to look at you. He extends his pinky finger towards you. “Promise me you’ll call if you feel unsafe?” You hook you pinky with his. “I promise, Spence.” Even the slight contact with your skin makes Spencers heart flutter. He unhooks his finger and starts to walk away, towards the exit. “Hey.” The softness in your voice makes him halt. Turning around he sees you, slight smile on your lips and your hands behind your back. “Thank you, Spence. Thank you for…you know…caring about me.” “Of course, Y/N. And don’t worry about it. I’m here.” As you wave goodbye, the small smile on your face pulls at Spencers heartstrings. He wishes he said what he came over to say to you.

As you close the door, you walk up to your coffee table, opening the bottle of wine, you sit on the floor, your back to the sofa. Why couldn’t you say what you really want to say?

[say-the-name-sebongie]

Stereo Hearts

Synopsis: Silence can drive a person mad which makes radio like some sort of hero. It just takes a while to find the right station to listen to. Pairing: Jihoon x fem!reader Genre: fluff, collegeAU!Jihoon Warnings: noneeee Word Count: 1.6k words a/n: pls pretend spotify doesn't exist yet and yes this was kinda inspired by radio rebel

_____ silently thanked whoever created the radio. She thought that she would go crazy from the silence of the room she was in. The fact that her roommate was always grouchy and complained that she couldn't do anything if there were any "annoying" sounds made it hard for her to study in their shared room. She couldn't complain about it because the free dorm room that came with the scholarship was more than she could as for. So that left her to study in the dorm common room, earphones plugged into her phone and its radio tuned on some old radio station nobody listened to anymore.

Unfortunately for her, the songs that played on the radio these days didn't have any essence. They were either about having sex or were just pure electronic noise if they weren't memes. None of which helped her study. Sure there were some good songs but that only came on the radio every few weeks. So she had no choice but to go back to her routine of ever maddening silence.

On her way to class one day, she saw a poster on the notification board at the school entrance about the launch of the university's first radio station.

"I didn't know the university had its own radio station," she mumbled to herself. The bell rang and she left the poster behind, taking note of the station numbers and promising herself that she would check out the newfound radio station after class. Station 5.26.

That night she calibrated her phone radio until she heard a voice crackling in her earphones.

" -again guys to Station 5.26, University Radio. I have to get out of here to give my shift over to DJ Woozi so here's Fly Me To The Moon by good old Frank Sinatra. Good night!"

Old-timey music wafted into her ears as Frank Sinatra sang. The girl smiled. Now there was some good music. She took her books out of her bag and started going through what she had learned that day.

Studying became a joy more than a job when she listened to University Radio. Her favorite segment was the one hosted by DJ Woozi, who she heard was a student in the university. She had fallen in love with his impeccable taste in music, ranging from hard rock and hip hop to orchestral music and old classics. But that wasn't the only thing she had fallen in love with.

Hearing his voice over the crackly speakers of her phone made her feel better. A day hadn't gone since discovering that radio station that she didn't listen to his segment, Simple Radio, all night. Even if it ended at 3am, she couldn't finish her day without hearing him sign off with his signature "Goodbye guys, and may the simplest things make you smile today."

He was her vitamin. And though she had never even seen him yet, one could say that she had fallen for him.

Which is why she was devastated to hear that the station would be offline for the duration of the coming school break.

Over spring break she could think of nothing but going back to school. Most students wouldn't want their days of vacation to end but _____ was itching for the new term to arrive.

After an eternity, the day classes resumed came. As she sat in the back of her father's car, she could barely hear him talk about how he had gotten an email from the university about new dorm arrangements. Her mind was off in another place, some specific radio booth to be exact. As soon as they stopped at the school gate she hurried out of the car, not even bothering to give her bewildered father a second look.

A bunch of students were crowding the notification board, blocking the entrance. When she got to the front of the crowd she saw that the dorm rooms offered by the university were shuffled, including her dorm room.

To: The Students

Re: Dorm Room Assignments

Dear Beloved Students,

The faculty has come to a decision to rearrange the existing dorm rooms from being separated by gender to a co-ed arrangement. This is to ensure that we make the most of the space that is allotted for the dormitory rooms. Posted below are the said room assignments.

Thank you for your cooperation.

_____ scanned the list until she found her name. Room 17, Building B. Under that was another name equating to the same dorm. Lee Jihoon. From an annoyingly sensitive girl to some strange guy she had never met, her dorm life was never boring.

She dragged her luggage to Building B, hurrying so she could turn on her radio again. Heaving a sigh in front of room number 17, she opened the door to reveal a room with two beds and a boy in front of his laptop on one of the desks that were pushed against the wall. He had brightly colored hair buried under a big pair of headphones, his fingers tapping on the desk as he listened to something on his laptop.

As quietly as she could, _____ snuck into the room. She must have been noisier than she thought because he turned around to face her. His surprisingly handsome features gathering in confusion before they softened into understanding.

"You're _____, right?" he said, his hand slightly hesitating whether it should hold itself out for her to shake or not. The girl smiled and nodded before shaking his hand which he finally decided to stretch out. He smiled, his starry eyes disappearing into half-moons. Maybe this guy was better than her last dormmate.

Over the next few weeks, she and Jihoon became friends. Meeting up outside of class and talking about absolutely anything. _____ was glad to not be in the company of someone who hated listening to music. Blasting music in their dorm room was something they both enjoyed. She and Jihoon even shared the same favorite artists so picking which songs to play was never an issue.

There was something about the boy that felt so familiar as if she had met him before. She couldn't deny the fact that she liked being with him. Not even to herself. Being with him almost made her forget about her favorite radio station.

Almost.

On one early Saturday morning, she was alone in the dorm listening to Station 5.26 yet again when Jihoon came through the door from his part-time job. "Hey." she greeted him, not bothering to remove her earphones or even look up at her roommate.

"What are you listening to?" he asked, walking to her side and peeking at her phone screen. _____ turned her phone slightly to show the boy. He turned to look at her, a surprised look on his face.

"You listen to University Radio too?" Jihoon asked her incredulously. Enthusiastic about finding another common thing between them she started gushing about how she found the radio stations and how much she loved it over all the more mainstream stations.

Her roommate just smiled as she talked, silently taking in everything she said as he put his bag down and sat on his bed. The boy stared at her smiling face and blushing cheeks, hands that moved with every word she said, dainty fingers that pointed to nowhere in particular as she spoke, eyes that shone and sparkled and luscious pink lips that he just wanted to-

The boy pinched himself out of his daydream. He couldn't be crushing on his roommate right now.

It didn't take long for her to start talking about Simple Radio and DJ Woozi. Jihoon's eyes lit up when she mentioned it. _____ spilled everything she had kept to herself, from her love for his taste in music to her embarrassing crush on him. It all came spilling out. She felt as if she could trust Jihoon with them. As her secrets came to the light, the boy's eyes became wider and wider.

"Hey, you know I work for the university radio station, you wanna come along to my shift tonight?" he offered her. His roommate immediately agreed, wrapping her arms around his neck and thanking him again and again. His cheeks burned, a reddish tint left on them when she let go.

That night they got ready to go out. _____ could hardly believe her luck. It was almost 9pm, the time for Simple Radio to come on. That meant that when she got to the studio, her idol would be there. And she could finally meet him!

The studio was a dimly lit but cozy place. It was filled to the brim with CDs and records. Several speakers hung from the ceiling and stood at every corner. An empty booth stood in the middle of the floor. Jihoon put down his bag and walked to it, fiddling with some buttons and levers. _____ walked around to inspect the shelves. She found old CDs of famous singers and unknown rock bands. It fascinated her that so much music could be contained in one place.

A crackling came from the speakers, then a voice.

"Hey guys welcome back to Station 5.26 University Radio, I'm your nighttime companion DJ Woozi and this is Simple Radio."

_____'s eyes widened. She looked at her watch. 9:00pm, it said. The girl hurried back towards the booth, expecting to see DJ Woozi. But when she got there it was only Jihoon, headphones on his ears. She watched him, confused as to why he was inside. His gaze met hers through the glass.

"I'm here today in the booth with a person that's very special to me standing outside, watching me. She doesn't know that I'm the DJ Woozi she wanted to meet so bad,"

_____'s mouth gaped open.

"Nor does she know that I like her."

Jihoon smiled at her through the glass, mouth still near the microphone.

"And I hope that my confession today will blossom into something more."

[five-rivers]

Cold Case

So, this is a continuation of Interview With a Ghost, my corpse AU.  Sort of.  Lots of outsider perspective.  

But, I’m too lazy to hunt down the tumblr links.  So.  Here’s the AO3 link to the series.  

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McGee braced himself before getting out of his car and walking into the precinct.  He’d heard all the jokes before, all the mindless digs at his name, and he liked to think that he’d grown a thick skin in response, but part of him still flinched every time.  

Plus, there was a reason he’d been sent to Amity Park.  That reason being the incredibly suspicious crime rate.  That is, the just shy of nonexistent crime rate.  Also, the billionaire mayor that had popped up out of nowhere.  And the high road repair and park maintenance bills.  

Oh, yeah, and the giant murder investigation that had just.  Disappeared.

The county wanted answers.  So, they sent McGee.  Of course, they didn’t tell the Amity Park Police Department that.  As far as they knew, he was just a transfer. Someone being shifted from one department to another.  

So, yeah.  Bracing.  Just like the wind.  Ouch, it was cold.  McGee wrapped his coat more closely around himself and began jogging through the otherwise deserted parking garage.  

The… underground parking garage.  Wind?  

McGee stopped and turned in place, trying to see where the breeze could have possibly come from.  There weren’t exactly any windows down here.  

Feeling more cautious, but not knowing why, McGee made his way more slowly to the elevator door and hit the call button.  The doors opened immediately.  Inside, a speaker tried to play music, but what came out of it was mostly ear-tearing static.  

Well.  If APPD was getting paid off by a mob or the town was skimming from road funds, they certainly weren’t using their ill-gotten gains on the elevators.  

When the doors opened, McGee was hit with a blast of warm air and Christmas music.  He kept his face carefully blank.  It had only just become December, and the police station was… it was… Well. McGee would have to call it ‘decked out,’ no matter how much he abhorred the phrase.  

… Why were there so many menorahs?

“Hey, are you John McGee?”

“Yes, that’s me,” said McGee, turning to face a remarkably plain man in a button-down shirt and a pullover sweater.  

The man had a pair of novelty felt antlers on his head.  They were decorated with bells.  How unprofessional.

“I’m Collins.  We’ll probably be working together at some point.  Same department.”

“Homicide?”

Collins raised his eyebrows.  “I don’t know what you were told, but we don’t have enough homicides to warrant a dedicated homicide department.  We get a one or two mysterious deaths every month, but it always turns out to be, like, anaphylaxis or something.”  He brought a mug to his lips and sipped slowly.  “Mostly we do vice, theft, fraud, and missing persons. Not much of that last one, either. Oh, we had an arson one time.  But it turned out it wasn’t really arson. Anyway, let’s get you checked in, and hopefully Patterson will be here by the time Captain Jones is done with you.”

“Patterson?”

“My partner.  You know, you being here gives us an odd number of detectives.  That’s going to be weird.”  He sipped from his mug again.  “Maybe we’ll promote someone.  Not Cameron Daily, though.”  Collins stared into the middle distance.  “No. Not Cameron Daily.  Love that man. He’s got to stay in tech support.”

“The captain?” prompted McGee.  

“Hah.  Yeah. You have to brave the secretaries, first.”  Collins patted McGee on the shoulder, and McGee suppressed the impulse to shake him off. “Good luck.  At least this is going to be a quiet month, right?”

.

McGee spent what was probably far too much time pondering what Collins had meant by ‘it’s going to be a quiet month.’  Did the APPD’s arrangement with the local criminals (because there had to be an arrangement) include forewarning concerning the crimes they did deign to investigate?  Or did they have statistics that indicated December was a low-crime time for Amity Park?

Orientation was highly typical, as far as these things went.  The only oddity were the advertisements and promotional pictures for the local tourist trap tapped up all over half the captain’s office.  Was the man a fan?  Did he believe in that ghost nonsense?  Was it some kind of bizarre joke?

At least the Christmas plague hadn’t made it this far.

“Right, now that we’ve got that part out of the way, let’s move on.  We normally like an even number of detectives, but the county moved you over so fast we couldn’t get you a partner, and no one is retiring.”  Jones rolled his shoulders and fixed McGee with a very sharp gaze.  “Do you know why the county was so… insistent with your transfer?”

Ah.  So, the captain was suspicious.  Time to put that backstory to good use.  

“Honestly, sir, I embarrassed someone, and I think they just spun the wheel on how to get rid of me.”

“Mhm.  See, usually when they do that, they pick from departments that actually put in requests for extra personnel.  We haven’t.”

“I think the main concern was just to keep me away.”

“I see.”  The level of suspicion in the man’s eyes did not change.  “You’re going to be with Patterson and Collins until you get your feet under you and we decide what to do about the partner situation. If the county will even let us out another detective on payroll.  Consider yourself on probation as far as whatever it is you’re doing with the county. Don’t put my detectives in danger.”

“Sir—”

“Whatever excuse you have, I don’t want to hear it. Go talk to Collins.  I know you met him.  Patterson probably isn’t here yet.”

.

Collins stood next to a woman in a coat with a long dark braid.  Both of their backs were to McGee.  He could see that they were talking to one another, making tight little gestures with their hands near their chests.  All the other occupants of the room stared at them without a modicum of shame.  

“—until he sees his first fight?  We’re supposed to babysit him until January?  We won’t be able to talk about anything!”

“Well, if you’d been on time, maybe we could have convinced the captain not to—”

Someone behind McGee cleared their throat. Loudly.  Collins and the woman turned, sheepishly.  

“Oh.  McGee. McGee, this is Patterson. Patterson, this is McGee.  You’ll be working with us, apparently.”

“Hopefully, I’ll be able to get out of your hair before too long,” said McGee.

“Don’t count on it.  How long have you been in town?” asked Patterson.  

“Only since yesterday.  Why?”

“We’re showing you around,” said Patterson, snatching the antlers from Collins’s head.  

“Consider it your last bit of freedom before you’re condemned to paperwork,” said Collins.  

.

Amity Park was odd, McGee decided.  

It wasn’t just the clashing but equally enthusiastic Halloween and Christmas decorations, the omnipresent construction, and the worrying number of holes in the road (really, there was no way the road repair budget was actually getting used on the roads).  There was something else.  Something McGee couldn’t put his finger on.  Something—

He did a double-take.  Were those two cosplaying the Ghostbusters?  Why?

How seriously did these people take their tourist trap nonsense?

“What are Jack and Maddie doing out?” asked Patterson.

“I don’t know,” said Collins.  He tilted his head to one side and pulled into a nearby convenience store parking lot.  “You’d think they’d be told; December is a quiet month.”

“Mhm.  Maybe they didn’t believe it?”

“They can be stubborn sometimes,” mused Collins. “But it would be nice if there was some action.”  He pulled the parking brake.  “You want to introduce McGee to the local celebrities?”

A look of indescribable disgust appeared on Patterson’s face.  “Why don’t you introduce them?”

“I did that last time.”

“No, you didn’t.  You rang their doorbell and then ran like the coward you are.”

Collins, without any hint of repentance, shrugged. “Wouldn’t you do the same?”

“This is different,” she protested.  “This isn’t just any new resident.  This is a coworker.  A coworker who isn’t going to see that kind of action for a whole month.”

“Action?” asked McGee.  This felt perilously close to what he’d been tasked to find out.  

“You’ll find out in a month,” said Collins. “Assuming you last that long.”

McGee frowned, and decided to take another risk and prompt the pair further.  “I know you have a low crime rate here,” he said, “but I’m sure there will be something for us to investigate before the end of the month.”

“Well, yeah,” said Collins.  “We don’t get paid for doing nothing.”

There was a sharp rap on the window, and everyone jumped.  God. It was just some kid.  McGee put a hand over his heart and tried not to think too hard about the time he had almost been killed in his car by a dirty cop and his gangster friends.

Collins rolled the window down, letting in a gust of frigid wind.  

“Hi, detectives!” chirped the teen.  “I heard you got a new guy!”

Oh.  That was interesting.  Was the local gang using children as in-betweens?

“Yep,” said Patterson.  “This is McGee.  McGee, this is Danny, the only sane Fenton.”

Danny tipped his head to the side and squinted. “I think that title needs to go to Jazz.”

“Danny, I hate to break it to you, but your sister is a lunatic,” said Patterson, completely serious.  

“Come on, you’re just saying that,” said Danny, staring openly at McGee.  

Did this kid blink?

“Anyway, I’ve introduced McGee to one Fenton, you get to do the others,” said Patterson, poking Collins in the ribs.

“Danny doesn’t count,” protested Collins, squirming. “He’s sane, like you said.”

“You’ll have to be fast.  Mom and Dad are like three blocks down the street chasing…”  He trailed off.  “Well, they think they’re chasing something, anyway.  Transient noise on their latest EMF reader.”  He rolled his eyes and finally blinked.  

“Think they might actually get anything?” asked Patterson.

“Nothing with a mind,” said Danny.  “Might have to play animal control soon, though.”  There was a loud crash and a squeal of rubber, followed by distant but still deafening engine noises.  Danny winced.  “Can you please give them a fine for driving around in that thing?”

“They have a special permit,” said Collins, shrugging.  “Straight from the mayor.  Nothing we can do.”

“I will bribe you to do something.”

McGee choked.

“With what?” asked Collins.  “You’re a penniless middle schooler.”

“Excuse you,” said Danny, crossing his arms. “You know I’m in high school.”

There was another crash.  

“Are you sure they haven’t found anything?” asked Patterson, leaning forward.  

“Absolutely positive,” said Danny.  He sighed.  “I should probably go, though.”

“Okay, have fun, Danny!”

“Don’t think you’re getting out of introductions, Patterson,” grumbled Collins.  

.

“Alright,” said Collins, opening a narrow door and turning on the buzzing yellow light within.  “Your kingdom awaits!”  He gestured grandly, disrupting clouds of dust.  “You’ll be entering old cases into the system.  Did Cameron Daily show you how?”

McGee’s lips twisted at the memory of the computer tech.  “Yes,” he said.  

“Yeah, Cameron gets that reaction,” said Collins, thumping McGee on the back.  “If it makes you feel better, he’s usually in charge of keeping track of the cults. Did he tell you about the VHS evidence?”

“The cults?”

“Yep.  You’ll learn about those later.  VHS?”

“Yes, he told me how to handle the VHS.”

“Great.  So, Patterson and I will be working on case paperwork in the main room, if you have any questions, come get us, okay?”

“I will,” said McGee.  

Collins nodded.  “If we wind up being assigned a case, we’ll come get you.”  He absentmindedly rubbed his shoulder.  “The captain probably won’t give us anything today. Oh, and if Mayor Masters drops in, redirect him to the front desk.  There’s no reason for him to be back here.”

There was a good deal of hostility in Collins’ tone. Interesting.  

“Do you not get along with the mayor?”

“We get along fine,” said Collins.  “He just oversteps his authority, sometimes.”

“I… see.”

“Not yet you don’t,” said Collins, softly, before turning to walk away.  A “Good luck” was tossed casually over the man’s shoulder and seemed to echo in the air despite the hall being far too small for that to happen.  

McGee turned to his work and smiled.  They shouldn’t have left him alone with the records. This was where he did his best work. There was always a paper trail somewhere.  

He opened the department-issued laptop and brought up the digital filing system.  

It was odd, though.  He’d spent years in the police, and he’d never heard of Fenton & Foley Information Systems.  

.

The department computer filing system was a miracle.  McGee meant that completely, as a connoisseur of filing systems.  He wondered if he could get the county to adopt it, assuming it didn’t tie back to the mob or something equally unsavory.  

On the other hand, it was only a couple months old, by the looks of it.  It was, therefore, mostly empty, as compared to the almost infinite number of filing boxes in the record room.  

The record room was not well organized.  In fact, it was barely organized at all.  Several of the boxes looked like they’d been beaten with a bat, others were singed.  A few dripped with something sticky and green. One or two looked as though they’d been drenched in water and then left to dry in a dark, damp room.  Only about half of them were labeled.  

To top it off, towards the beginning he’d found a post-it that had said: Boxy, if you steal these again, I’m going to leave you in the thermos for a week.  -Phantom

The people here were way too into their tourist trap shenanigans.  Unless they weren’t just tourist trap shenanigans.  Unless they were a front.  

He’d put that on his list of things to investigate.

But first, first, he was going to find the records for the murder that was recently swept under the table.

The newest boxes, despite being reasonably intact and therefore unique, weren’t easy to find, but he was able to drag them out and sit down with his laptop.  He could enter as he searched, and thereby give the illusion that he was a completely normal transfer more credence.  

Except.

Except.  The records for that murder didn’t seem to exist.  Not even in the cold case box.

“Hey.”

McGee jumped.  Patterson was standing behind him, holding two paper coffee cups.  

“How’s it going?” she asked.  “I know these records are hell.”

“Fine,” he said.  

“Coffee?”

“Sure.”  He took the offered cup from her.  “Forgive me if I’m wrong,” he said, “but when I was working up at county, I heard that you had a murder case here, recently?  You dug up a teen’s body?”

“Oh, yeah.”  Patterson was unperturbed.  “Yeah, that was pretty exciting.  Collins and I were on that.”

“I can’t seem to find the records for it.”

“Yeah.  Well, there wasn’t any foul play.”  Patterson shrugged.  

“Wasn’t he found buried in a public park?”

“Well, aren’t you informed,” said Patterson. She sipped her coffee aggressively through the plastic stirring straw.  

“So, you found an illegally buried teenager’s corpse and just… dropped it?”

“We investigated it,” said Patterson.  “There wasn’t anything there.  Case was cold even without that.”  Another long, aggressive sip.  She couldn’t possibly be getting any coffee up through that straw.  It had to be mostly air.  

This was the most bizarre intimidation tactic McGee had ever come across in his entire life.  This was saying something.  Once he’d worked with a man who’d pretend to have the flu during interrogations.  

“You should still have records for the investigation.”

Patterson shrugged.  “You’d have to ask Captain Jones about that.  Anyway, I brought a bunch of tapes for you, too.  You’ll have to rewind them by hand, though, when you finally get to them.”  Another sip. “Are you planning on doing the salvage boxes?”

“The what?”

“The salvage boxes.  The ones that got fished out of the lake.  Wouldn’t blame you if you weren’t.  Just curious.”

“I’m- They were in a lake?  Why?”

“Stick around and find out,” said Patterson.  “Did Masters come bother you yet?”

“Mayor Masters?”

“The one and only,” said Patterson, raising her coffee in a mock toast.  

“Why would he come here?”

“Because you’re new, and theoretically a weak link. Oh, yeah.  One more thing.  I know your check-out time is in half an hour, but come back around eight, okay?”

“Why?”

“Reasons.”

“Are you hazing me?”

“That’s what the salvage boxes are for,” said Patterson.  “Come back at eight.  Bye.” She waved as she left.  

Great.  What was he supposed to do about that?

.

He didn’t go home after checking out. Instead, he walked around town.  Patterson and Collins’ tour had been… interesting. Not terribly informative.  They had given him an overview of various restaurants, ‘paranormal hotspots,’ and places where dumb kids gathered to experiment with drugs of dubious legality.  

But they had avoided certain parts of town.  McGee had noticed.  

True, some of that was likely coincidence, but McGee had never heard of a public cemetery that wasn’t the site of something shady. Sure, a good caretaker would chase off anyone messing around in daylight, but cemeteries and graveyards just attracted trouble.  Even if that trouble was just the local goth kids running around while high out of their minds.  

But this cemetery, evidently, is different. Because there’s an unholy amount of people there for something that supposedly hallowed ground.  Is this also part of the weird ghost-theme the place had going for itself?  Were those tourists?  In the graveyard?  

That seemed to be in remarkably poor taste.  

McGee pushed his hands deeper into his pockets and lengthened his stride.  This whole town was in poor taste.  

Oddly, everyone seemed to be gathered around the same grave.  Maybe it was a funeral?  No, the ground in front of the headstone was long since patted firm, and the headstone, while obviously fairly new, had some evidence of weathering even from a distance.

Had there been a celebration today?  Memorial Day wasn’t today, was it?  McGee always lost track of those fiddly little holidays.

Huh.  The headstone was blank.

“Excuse me,” he said to a nearby woman.  “Do you know who was buried here?”

“You… don’t know?” she asked, eyes wide with surprise.  

McGee grinned.  “I’m new in town, I’m afraid, and I just saw all these people here… I’m curious, I guess.”

“Oh,” said the woman.  She looked away, every part of her body language screaming that she was coming up with a story to feed him.  A lie.  Or, at least, deciding which lie to use.  “Well, there was a body found a few months ago?  No one ever identified him, so… He was buried here?  We just, um.  It was sad, you know?  You’ll probably hear more about it if you stick around.”

Despite almost everything she said being a statement, she still managed to make everything but the last sentence sound like a question.  

Even if it was a lie…

“I hadn’t, actually.  Can you tell me what happened?”

… Maybe it was just what McGee needed.

[theweirdymcweirderson]

Animals - Dean Winchester

Author: theweirdymcweirderson

Characters: Reader, Dean Winchester, Impala

Relationships: Dean Winchester×Reader

Word count: 1537 (lyrics included)

Warnings: 18+ only. All this is very lightly described, but still, I’m adding it. Smut, Dirty Talk, Kissing, Hair Pulling, Biting, Language, Pet Names, Teasing, Oral (male receiving).

Prompt: 

Notes: I’m trying to get  back to writing and I’’m having major blocks, so please be nice. 😘😘 Enjoy.

I, I'm driving black on black Just got my license back I got this feeling in my veins this train is coming off the track I'll ask polite if the devil needs a ride Because the angel on my right ain't hanging out with me tonight I'm driving past your house while you were sneaking out I got the car door opened up so you can jump in on the run Your mom don't know that you were missing She'd be pissed if she could see the parts of you That I've been kissing Screamin'

Dean’s just left the motel after another fight with Sam. Spending the morning at the police station hadn’t been fun, but he’s used to it by now. Metallica is playing and he’s mouthing the words he knows by heart as he drives to her place. They’re bad for each other, they know that. And still, every time he’s in town, he calls and she answers.

She’s standing by the side of the road, making sure she’s out of the window’s range. Her parents would kill her if they knew she is still hanging out with John Winchester’s kid.

Dean spots her easily enough, rolls to a stop in front of the sidewalk and leans over the seat to open the door for her. She awakens the gentleman in him.

“Did ya miss me, sweetheart?”

A grin stretches across her mouth as she slips in Baby. She grabs his face, fingers gently sinking in the sides of his face and pulls him in for a kiss.

“Not as much as you’ve missed me, Dean-o.”

There’s some scruff littering his cheeks, she takes the time to caress them a couple of times; she likes it, it looks good on him.

“Let’s roll, shall we?”

No, we're never gonna quit Ain't nothing wrong with it Just acting like we're animals No, no matter where we go 'Cause everybody knows We're just a couple of animals

So come on baby, get in Get in, just get in Check out the trouble we're in

They’re in a club and it’s packed. Booze flowing copiously and hands wandering freely; Dean’s arm is around her waist as she sways to the beat of the song.

“C’mon, let’s dance, babe.”

She spins around, her fingers dance across his forearm to reach his hand and she tries to pull him off the seat. She fails, as always. Dean Winchester doesn’t dance, and if he did, it wouldn’t be to that song blasting through the speakers.  

“Yeah, not happening, sweetheart.”

Her eyes look darker as she steps closer to him, places herself between his parted thighs and pleadingly whispers a breathy ‘please’ in his ear. He doesn’t budge.

She shrugs her shoulders and grabs his chin between her thumb and forefinger. There’s a mischievous smirk playing on her lips when she pulls back, a complete opposite to the sweet peck she’s just planted on the corner of his mouth.

They’re not together, never been. Not officially. He still grows possessive whenever someone tries something with her, and she gets insanely jealous of everyone that flirts with him. It’s toxic. They know, and yet they don’t care.

As he watches her walk to the dance floor, he already knows someone is going to end up with a broken nose and he’s going to end up with bloody fists by the end of the night. She licks her lips and her arms rise up; she has the audacity of sending him a cheeky wink and a wave before she turns around and weaves her body through the throng of people.

You're beside me on the seat Got your hand between my knees And you control how fast we go by just how hard you wanna squeeze It's hard to steer when you're breathing in my ear But I got both hands on the wheel while you got both hands on my gears By now, no doubt that we were heading south I guess nobody ever taught her not to speak with a full mouth 'Cause this was it, like flicking on a switch It felt so good I almost drove into the ditch I'm screamin'

Adrenaline is pumping through their veins; they’re scrambling to leave before the cops show up.

The Impala purrs to life as they make a hasty escape; she slides across the seat and presses her front to his side. She’s warm and Dean can’t stop himself from looking down to where her hands are slowly creeping up his leg.

“Find some place to park. Don’t think I can wait much longer.”

Her hand is now on his bulge, pressing and palming as she breathes the words; her breath fanning across his neck and sending shivers down his spine.

“I’m trying to think. You’re making t-things harder.”

“I can tell. You really did miss me, huh?”

Dean curses under his breath and he feels the smile on her lips when they press to his neck; his eyes are focused on the road and he tries with all his might to keep them there while she unbuttons his jeans and rolls down the zipper. They pass the mall’s parking lot, and right as he’s about to make a detour, she moves downs.

“Fucking hell, warn a guy, would ya?”

No, we're never gonna quit Ain't nothing wrong with it Just acting like we're animals No, no matter where we go 'Cause everybody knows We're just a couple of animals

So come on baby, get in Get in, just get in Look at the trouble we're in

She laughs around him and he glances down at her, a grin on his face.

“Whatcha laughing about? Almost got us killed.”

He’s silenced quickly when she wraps her lips around his dick and sucks, killing any more remarks and eliciting a groan from him. His right hand finds the back of her head, letting her know she has to slow down if she wants him to keep some semblance of control.

He parks near the train station when she does the exact opposite, running her tongue along his shaft and then sucking on the tip. Killing the engine, he pulls her up and presses a demanding kiss to her lips; his fingers tangling in her hair as they lose themselves in each other.

We were parked out by the tracks We're sitting in the back And we just started getting busy When she whispered what was that The wind, I think 'cause no one else knows where we are And that was when she started screamin' That's my dad outside the car Oh please, the keys, they're not in the ignition Must have wound up on the floor while We were switching our positions I guess they knew that she was missing As I tried to tell her dad it was her mouth that I was kissing Screamin'

It’s frustrating to try and get his shirts off, so she settles for pushing her hands underneath them, scratching along the expanse of his abs as he manoeuvres her to straddle his lap. The steering wheel is constricting their movements, and she huffs her disdain, biting on his bottom lip in retaliation. Dean chuckles.

“I want your fingers, please, Dean.”

He hums, not wanting to detach her lips from his, and brings his hand down. Being the tease that he is, he takes the time to caress and grope his way to the actual destination. Her hand finds his hair and she informs him of her disapproval by pulling on the strands.

“Patience is a virtue, ya know?”

Skirts is what she always wears when they have to meet, easy access and little hassle. Dean pushes his hand under the folds of the red skater skirt, and she grunts something as she presses her core against him.

“Did you hear that?”

Dean finds it hard to focus on anything else that isn’t her body on his lap, so he shakes his head noncommittally while his fingers work to move her panties to the side.

“Wait, stop. I think someone is out there.”

They barely have time to fix their clothes, before her father’s voice growls at her to get her ass out of the car.

Dean unlocks the motel door and rolls his eyes when he finds Sam staring at him. He’d hoped to find him asleep.

“Dude, what the hell happened to you?”

The younger Winchester only receives a grunt in answer, which he interprets as his brother probably pissing someone off.

With a heavy, disappointed sigh, Dean throws his tired body on the mattress. Being threatened with a shotgun was not how he’d pictured their encounter going when he’d picked her up. His phone pings, alerting him of a new text message.

-I’m choosing the spot next time, xoxo.

No, we're never gonna quit Ain't nothing wrong with it Just acting like we're animals No, no matter where we go 'Cause everybody knows We're just a couple of animals

So come on baby, get in We're just a couple of animals Get in, just get in Ain't nothing wrong with it Check out the trouble we're in We're just a couple of animals Get in, just get in.

Masterlist

[howtosingit]

Fic: shatter every window ‘til it’s all blown away

Carlos visits family in San Antonio while TK faces multiple storms in Austin.

*

Missing moments from 1x04. 

2.1K | Also on AO3

- - - - - -

definitely just saw like 7 tornadoes

wtf

why exactly does this state want to kill me?

Carlos is sitting on his mother’s couch in San Antonio when he gets TK’s texts. It’s the first time he’s heard from the guy in a couple of days, since he left him on his front porch after their date. The silence hasn’t been terrible, if Carlos is being honest with himself. Sure, TK continues to take up space in his head every moment of every day, but the space seems to be getting smaller, or at least less centralized. He thinks that must count for something.

He glances up at the TV across the room, watching the meteorologist report on the major storm system wreaking havoc on Texas. Outside, rain pelts the windows of his mom’s one-story house, thunder roaring as lightning flashes. They’re a little too far south to be facing any tornadoes, but based on what he’s seeing, he can only imagine what kind of chaos Austin is experiencing at the center of the system. 

Behind him, his mother and sisters flit around the kitchen preparing dinner, their conversation barely audible over the thunderstorm. He focuses on his phone again, thinking about how to respond.

Consider that a true Texas welcome?

Are you somewhere safe?

Carlos bites his bottom lip, watching as three dots appear at the bottom of his screen. He assumes that if TK is texting him he’s probably okay, but he’s sure this is the firefighter’s first tornado, so it doesn’t hurt to check. TK has been known to chase danger before.

yeah I’m at work

cowboy judd has us hunkered down until it clears

wbu?

Carlos looks back towards the TV, staring at the map that has taken over the screen. He sees numerous watches and warnings across the state, with a large concentration around Austin. The damage in certain areas is going to be catastrophic.

I’m in San Antonio, we’re just getting heavy rain here 

There’s a pause following his text, long enough that he sets his phone down next to him, leaning forward on the couch to rub his temples. He’s already imagining the crazy workload awaiting him when he returns to town, not to mention all the loss. His heart clenches in his chest, knowing that it’s going to be a long road to recovery for his city.

His phone buzzes next to him.

I didn’t know you were out of town

but I’m glad you’re out of the worst of it

Carlos is already typing a response when another text comes through.

when are you back?

Carlos blinks, forcing himself not to read anything into TK’s messages. They’re friends now, or trying to be, and it’s super normal to ask these kinds of questions. TK’s just being curious, nothing more.

Tomorrow night, I’m working Monday

Just visiting family for a few days, it’s my sister’s birthday

He wonders if he needed to share that last bit. TK hadn’t asked for it, and he probably won’t care what reason he has for being out of town. Carlos sighs, wondering why he feels like he has to overthink every interaction with this man.

tell her happy birthday!

Judd says we’re probably going to lose service soon, it’s getting worse around the station

I’ll text you back when I can

Carlos sends a message telling him to be safe before tossing his phone to the other end of the couch, knowing that if he holds onto it he won’t do anything else until he hears from TK again. His mother finds him a few moments later, biting his fingernails as he stares at the continuous weather report. She runs her fingers through his curls, a surefire way to soothe him.

“I’m so glad you’re here and not in the middle of all of that, mijo,” she says, and he glances up to find her watching the report as well, her eyebrows furrowed in concern. “Are all of your friends safe?” she asks, looking down at him. He nods, his eyes closing as he feels her gentle touch on his scalp. He can feel anxiety rolling off of him in waves. “That’s good,” she says, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead. “Come help in the kitchen, nene. You need a distraction.”

Her voice is firm, leaving no room for argument. With a sigh, he pulls himself up from the couch, wrapping his arm around her shoulders as they head into the other room, his phone left behind.

- - - -

He’s only about 20 minutes from Austin when his phone rings, the sound cutting through the music blasting in his car. Carlos glances over at his phone where it’s mounted on the dashboard, surprised to see TK’s name on his screen.

The firefighter had texted him once the storms had cleared, letting him know that everyone was safe and the station was still standing. Carlos wished him luck as the 126 headed out into the wreckage, honestly not expecting to hear from TK again before they saw each other at work. 

He reaches out, swiping his finger across the screen to answer the unexpected call. 

“TK?”

There’s a moment of silence before Carlos hears the other man take a deep breath, the sound traveling clearly through his car’s speakers. 

“Hey, Carlos.”

Carlos feels his heart drop down into his stomach at the weak, broken tone of TK’s voice. His mind races with worst-case scenarios, wondering what could’ve possibly happened during his shift.

“Are you hurt?” he asks, trying to keep his voice calm. An image of a battered and bruised TK curled over his desk flashes through his mind, and he presses a little harder on the accelerator, wondering how quickly he can get back home.

“Not exactly. I just…”

TK trails off, hesitating, and Carlos rolls his eyes, frustrated that this conversation is happening over the phone and not in-person. He feels so helpless from so far away.

“Just talk to me, TK. I’m listening.”

There’s another pause, and Carlos swears that he’s about to scream in frustration. He has no idea what’s going on with TK right now, but in the entire time that he’s known him, he’s never heard the other man sound this shattered. Every heavy breath that Carlos hears through the phone feels like a punch straight to his chest.

“We lost someone on a call today,” TK starts, his voice blank. “A dad who wouldn’t let us treat him until we saved his kids. They were trapped in the house.”

Carlos bites his lip, his hands gripping tightly to the steering wheel as his eyes fill with tears. He knows what it’s like to have someone die in front of him, to feel like all he did was stand by and watch it happen. Those are the days where he feels completely useless, like there’s no point in him wearing the badge at all. He knows it’s impossible to save everyone all the time, but he can’t imagine not doing everything in his power to try.

“We got the kids out,” TK continues. “They all reunited, and then he just collapsed. Right in front of all of us. It felt so sudden, and there was n-nothing we c-could do.”

Carlos is shocked by the sound of TK crying over the phone, his breath stuttering over the last few words. He feels a tear of his own fall onto his cheek, his bottom lip quivering at the pain in the other man’s voice. 

Doing what they do isn’t easy. It’s process and procedure and protocol. It’s assessing the situation, finding those who need the most help. It’s quick and sometimes callous, but it’s what they have to do, to be of any real use. It’s tunnel vision and quickest actions, all in the name of saving as many people as they can.

And it always hurts, when someone slips through the cracks; when someone’s pain goes undiscovered until it’s too late. Every time, it makes Carlos want to throw away the rule book, rethink the system, figure out how to make it better. He just wants to save everyone.

“I’m so sorry, Ty,” he says, the nickname slipping through for the first time. He tries to keep his voice calm and clear, for TK’s sake.

The other man doesn’t respond, but Carlos can hear him crying through the phone, quiet sobs rolling through the speakers. He’s just about to speak up, say something else, maybe offer a distraction, when TK’s voice cuts through.

“My dad has cancer,” he whispers, and of all the things that Carlos thought he might say, that revelation had not been anywhere on the list.

“What?” Carlos asks, the single syllable rattling through the air before he can stop it, his heart caught in a vice-like grip of terror for TK. 

The man has already faced so much. 

“I found some pills in his desk,” TK explains. “They’re prescribed for chemo patients.”

“Fuck, TK,” Carlos whispers, running his fingers through his curls as he takes his exit off I-35. “I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah,” TK says, letting out a breath. He doesn’t say anything else.

“Where are you right now?” Carlos asks, a new fear running through him. 

“Home.”

“Is anyone with you?” 

“No.”

“Do you need someone?” Carlos asks, making a decisive turn towards TK’s house. Just in case. 

“I don’t know,” TK says weakly. “I… I don’t know, Carlos.”

“What are you thinking?” Carlos asks, trying to figure out TK’s state-of-mind. He seems a little all-over-the-place, and Carlos doesn’t even know where to begin. 

“I can’t lose him, Carlos,” TK responds, and Carlos can hear the sob in the back of his throat. “He’s all I have here, I can’t lose him. I’m looking around and he’s everywhere and I can’t escape him or, or this image of him just collapsing right in front of me, without warning. Just like that dad did today. What if that had been my dad, and I missed it because I wasn’t paying attention? Because I was focused on everything else and not on the person who was really dying?”

Carlos makes another turn. “I understand that, TK, but it’s not going to happen, okay? It’s not. You know now, and nothing happened to your dad. I know it’s hard, but you can’t get trapped in the ‘what-ifs,’ you’ll drive yourself crazy,” he says, trying to be as soothing as possible.

“I don’t have anywhere to go that isn’t connected to him,” TK continues, “but I also don’t want to leave, because something could happen when I’m not here. I don’t know what to do, and I just keep pacing around the house.”

“Would it…” Carlos hesitates, wondering if he should even offer. “Would it help to have someone there with you, while you wait for him?” 

“I…” TK starts, his voice cutting out. “I thought you were in San Antonio?”

“I just got back, I could be at your place in 10, if you want,” Carlos tells him, already mentally mapping the drive. He turns left, getting closer.

“Are you serious?”

“Of course I am,” Carlos states, his voice firm. “‘Not running away,’ remember?”

There’s a heavy silence following the reminder of their last face-to-face conversation. Carlos pulls up to a stop sign, holding his breath as he waits for TK to make a decision. 

“Thank you, Carlos,” he finally says, and Carlos wonders if he’s imagining the lighter tone in his voice.

“I’m only a few minutes away, okay? Do you want to stay on the call?”

“Do you mind?”

“No, not at all,” Carlos says, his heart feeling a little bit lighter as TK voice strengthens on the other end of the line.

“How was your sister’s birthday?” TK asks suddenly, and Carlos hears the clear request for a distraction; one that he’s more than happy to provide.

He’s in the middle of sharing how he helped his mom with the cake when he knocks on the door to the Strand household. Seconds later, TK throws open the door, his eyes red and glassy as he drops his phone and pulls Carlos towards him. He wraps his arms around TK’s frame, pressing him against his chest as they stand in the doorway, letting TK’s tears soak the t-shirt he’s wearing as he gently strokes his back.

There’s no hesitation, no second-guessing. There’s just a desire to support and comfort and protect.

He can’t imagine being anywhere else.

[obxhoe]

I was wondering if you could maybe do a JJ x kook reader, where the reader is kinda stuck being with rafe because of family ties and this is the time JJ takes the blame for what pope did to toppers boat, and the reader pays it off anonymously because they have a crush on him?

a/n: HI!!!! This is like a month late I’m so sorry y’all but I have more stuff in the works now that I have more free time. I spun it a little like John B and Sarah have been together for a lil bit, so the timeline is a tad off from the show. It’s kinda all over the place so I’m sorry about that.

Word count: ~1.8k

Warnings: mention of drugs, some swearing, probably typos, nothing else really

Ever since Sarah started dating John B, you’ve been hanging out with the Pogues. Your skepticism, due to being a kook yourself, about hanging with the group quickly fizzled after just one day on the HMS Pogue. And almost everyday you’re with them, that is whenever you can get away from Rafe.

Ah. Rafe Cameron. King of the kooks. And your “boyfriend”, not necessarily by choice. You two had grown up together on Figure Eight and of course as soon as you two had entered the age where it was acceptable to date, both sets of parents threw you together. It was nice, at first. It was new, exciting and you got to spend time with one of your best friends. But as time went on, and as you matured, Rafe seemed to stay in his high school days. Drugs controlled his mood, he was never on time or forgot you had plans and had completely changed from who he used to be.

You tried to break things off but your parents begged you to give it one more chance, they just couldn’t lose their friendship with the Cameron family or tarnish their precious image. So you gave it one more chance, about ten or more times. Your relationship at this point consists of hooking up with no strings attached, going to family dinners and putting on an act.

Your time is mainly spent with the Pogues. Rafe absolutely hated it at first, but he realized he couldn’t stop you and his sister, so he gave up eventually. Your summer days consist of surfing, relaxing on the boat or causing trouble around town. The trouble coming mostly from the shaggy blonde, with the ocean blue eyes that you were absolutely, undeniably, in love with. Rafe gets with his fair share of girls now. It never really bothered you at all since you both had come to a mutual agreement that this so-called relationship was purely physical and just an act to satisfy your parents. So now you spend your days and nights sneaking around with JJ Maybank, only the pogues and Sarah knowing what’s really going on. Rafe knows you’re fucking other people, but he doesn’t know who. If he did, he would lose his shit.

You wake up to your phone ringing next to your bed. Rubbing your eyes, you see the caller ID state that it was Rafe. You sigh rolling your eyes, you just talked to him before you decided to nap due to the exhaustion engulfing you after working a 7 hour shift this morning.

“Is this a booty call?” You ask, flopping back on your bed.

“Y/N! Someone sunk Topper’s boat!” He yells. You sit up immediately, stomach sinking, having an idea of who could have done this.

“Wait what?” You stand up and start pacing around.

“The plug wasn’t put back in. Topper claims he remembered to put it back in, but he was also drinking the last time he was driving it. Probably those fucking pogues though.” He raises his voice. “I don’t understand why you and Sarah hang around them, they’re trash y/n.”

“Rafe…” You state, already getting annoyed. “I love gossip just as much as the next girl, but I was hoping this was either more important information or a booty call. And seeing that it’s not, I am going to go back to bed.”

“Whatever. Come over tonight then?” He asks.

“Yeah yeah, see you then” You huff and lay back down trying to sleep, but your mind won’t stop thinking about the incident. Part of you knew JJ could have done this, and another part of you denied that. You give up on trying to sleep, throw on a bathing suit and one of JJ’s giant tees and head over to the chateau. 

You hop out of the car and walk around to the backyard of the chateau. 

“Now if any kooks come up to you and ask if you had anything to do with it, you walk up to ‘em, look ‘em right in the eye” You hear JJ stop and Pope mumble something. “And deny. Deny. Deny.” he finishes. You stop in your tracks, your suspicions now proving to be true. Your phone goes off and you mentally curse yourself for not putting your phone on do not disturb.

“Y/n?” JJ runs over to you, his face lighting up.

“What were you guys just talking about?” You ask nervously.

“Um uh well. I-” Pope starts but JJ cuts him off.

“Just talking about trying to find the gold. In case any kooks find out, we can’t have them fucking it up for us, ya know?” JJ says. You nod, not believing a single word but too scared to push for any further answers. 

“Well I gotta go back to work, I told my dad I would only be gone an hour or two.” Pope says, heading to the driveway. “Dinner tonight?”

“Yeah. Wait no fuck. I forgot I have a stupid family dinner thing I promised my parents I would go to.” You say, remembering you told Rafe you’d go over tonight. “Can we just come and hang out with you at work?”

“Yeah sure, I don’t care. Kie said she would help out today so she’ll probably be there by the time we get there” He says, and the two of you follow him.

You get to Heyward’s and not even 15 minutes after you arrive, chaos ensues. 

“Hey Pope, someone here to see you” Heyward says, eyeing the boy almost as a warning.

“Evening officer.” He says, swallowing as his hands start to shake.

“I have an arrest warrant for felony destruction of property.” Shoupe orders, as the other officers step forward and grab him. You start screaming, following Heyward outside, JJ hot on your heels. Kie starts to sob, and everyone else starts to shout, confusion in the air around you. Pope looks as if he can’t breathe. His eyes looking lost. All of a sudden the screaming stops, and you hear one voice call out.

“It wasn’t him! it was me. He tried to talk me out of it. but I was mad because he’d just been beaten up. I was so sick of those assholes from figure eight that I lost my shit.”  JJ turns to Pope. “I can’t let you take the blame for something that I did. You’ve got too much to lose.”

“JJ what are you doing?!” Pope hisses.

“I'm telling the truth. For once in my goddamn life, I’m gonna tell the truth. I took his old man’s boat too.” 

“What the hell?” Heyward says from behind you.

“JJ come on” Pope pleads. 

“Shut up Pope, shut up. He’s a good kid. “This was all me.” That was the last thing they said before they took him away. You didn’t notice you had started crying until you felt your tears roll down your neck. You feel a hand on your shoulder and see Heyward giving you the most sympathetic look. As much as he acts like JJ annoys the fuck out of him, you know that he loves JJ.

You, Pope and Kie stay outside as everyone else retreats to where they were before. You sink to the ground, hands covering your face.

“What do we do?’ You groan, wiping away the rest of your tears from your cheeks.

“I’m not sure we can do anything” Kie says.

“Well,” Pope starts “I mean in a perfect world we could pay off whatever his restitution would be. But Topper’s boat is expensive, like only the Kook-iest of Kooks can affor-”

“Pope, we know okay. That doesn’t help” Kie interrupts. You shoot up, an idea coming to your head. Deciding to keep it to yourself knowing that the two of them would immediately shut it down and call you crazy, you make an excuse to leave so you can execute your plan.

“I have to go guys. Get all socially acceptable and that shit for dinner with my family.” You start walking in the direction of your car. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow!” You call out. You get into the car, open the glove compartment and grab the checkbook. Luckily, you share your bank account with your very, very elderly grandparents, who are loaded. And never check the account ever. So no one will notice anything missing. Your parents won’t be able to see anything, no one will ever know, and you’ll be able to do it anonymously. You drive to the station and climb out the car, your hands sweaty and stomach nervous.

“I’m here for JJ. Uh Maybank.” You tell the lady at the front.

“Let me grab Shoupe” She gives you a judgemental look as she walks back.

“Y/n, didn’t expect to see you here. Everything okay? Parents good?” Shoupe says as he sips on some coffee.

“Yeah yeah everythings fine. Um I’m here for JJ” You say, fidgeting with your hands.

“Maybank?” He raises an eyebrow.

“I’m here to pay his restitution.”

“That’s $25,000 Y/n…” He puts his coffee down.

“Alright.” You grab a pen from the desk and start to write in the checkbook.

“Woah woah woah. Slow down. What will your parents think when they see 25k missing?”

“They won’t know. It’s not their account.” You finish filling out the check. “I would like to keep this anonymous please.” You hand it to him and walk out the door. You drive to the local market and sit in the parking lot, air conditioning cranked high and your favorite band blasting through the speakers and wait for him to call or text you.

------

“Maybank” Shoupe says, unlocking the cell that he was sitting in. “Your restitution has been paid, you’re free to go.”

“By who?” He shoots up, eyes wide.

“Don’t know. Don’t care. Get out of here.” Shoupe commands.

------

Your ringtone interrupts the music and you groan as you reach for the phone hoping it’s from the only person you want to talk to right now. *JJ* flashes on the screen, with a photo of him shotgunning a beer. 

“JJ?” You try to sound confused to avoid any suspicion. 

“Y/n! I’m out! Someone paid my restitution. Shoupe wouldn’t tell me who but at this point I don’t care. Can you come get me please? Oh! And bring burgers and fries, jail makes you hungry.”

“JJ you were there for 2 hours, tops.” You laugh.

“Yeah and I’m starving. I’ll be waiting outside the station.” You hang up, pick up some food and head over to the station.

The moment he sees you his eyes light up.

“Hey beautiful.” He hops in the car and grabs your face, kissing you passionately. “I love you. You know that? I fucking love you.” You smile as the words leave his lips.

“I love you too J. Now eat up.” You throw him the bag of food and drive off to the Chateau, texting Rafe that something had come up. You’ll come up with an explanation as to how you got out of your “family dinner” for Pope and Kie. Tonight, you’re putting JJ first.

[wxlfstxrx]

sorry i’m shamelessly taking advantage of you offering to write them, but o’knutzy on a road trip! where are they going? who’s driving? what snacks did they pack? do they tease whoever’s driving? lol how often do they pull over

HELLO. god, finally. i’m so sorry this took so long. also it turned into 5.7k words of O’Knutzy being O’Knutzy. hope you like this :) major props to @siriuslyqueer and @shinymooncolor for the help as always <3 characters by @lumosinlove!

Finn and Logan are showing Leo photos of their Harvard days one night as they’re cuddling in bed together, when Leo casually mentions how he sometimes wishes he had gone to college first before joining the league. 

“Growing up, I didn’t have many friends from school. I mostly kept to my family instead. Honestly though, if I had gone to college, I probably would’ve enjoyed my time there,” He says wistfully.

He doesn’t notice Finn and Logan glancing at each other, smiling knowingly. 

The next morning, the two boys drag Leo out of bed bright and early, bouncing up and down excitedly.

“What the—”

“ROAD TRIP, BABY,” They yell into his ear, and the next thirty minutes are a flurry of washing up and packing essentials for the long drive. Leo’s confused as hell but he’s still half asleep and refuses to deal with the hyperactive boys until he’s gotten his coffee from the cafe across from their apartment.

Once they’re eventually settled into Finn's car, with their respective cups of coffee and some bagels to munch on, Leo asks where they’re going as Finn starts the car and turns out onto the main road. The freckled redhead reaches a hand over to boop Leo on the nose, who swats his hand away playfully. 

“It’s a secret,” He winks. Leo settles back into the passenger seat resignedly, knowing better than to question their spontaneous decisions.

A couple seconds after, Logan leans forward, over the centre console, and plugs his phone in. He scrolls through his Spotify for a bit, before a familiar song starts blasting through the car speakers. 

“What the hell, Lo,” Finn frowns at Logan through the rearview mirror. “Isn’t it a bit too early for this?”

Logan narrows his eyes and wags a finger at him, opening his mouth to say something, but bursts into song instead. 

Leo looks at Finn, confused, and Finn just shoots him an amused look. 

“He loves singing to High School Musical on long drives,” He laughs, nodding his head to the beat anyway. Leo just stares between the two of them, looking highly intrigued. “Have you never been on a road trip before, Peanut?” 

Finn cocks his head to the side, looking at him curiously as Leo turns back to the front, shrugging in embarrassment. “Only with family. It was very different from this.” 

“Well,” Finn grins, drawing out the syllable. “You’re with us now. If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.”

At that moment, Logan grabs Leo’s shoulders from behind and shakes him. “What about us? What about everything we’ve been through?”

Leo laughs in surprise, and Logan pouts. “C’mon, Peanut, you’re supposed to sing along!”

He twists in his seat slightly, and grabs his phone as a microphone. “And what about meeeeeee?”

Logan laughs loudly, closing his fingers around Leo’s wrist and pulling the phone towards his mouth. “What am I supposed to dooooooooooooooo?”

“I gotta leave, but I’ll miss you,” The three of them sing at the top of their lungs, and dissolve into laughter.

They sing a few more songs after that, taking turns to scream the lyrics within the confined space of the car. Eventually, they settle into a comfortable silence when they’re all out of breath and thirsty, and Leo takes a sip of his coffee. “What do you guys normally do on road trips?”

Finn and Logan share a glance through the rearview mirror, and Logan shrugs. “Depends on where we’re going, and how long we’re going for, really. Seeing as we have training tomorrow, we don’t really have a choice this time, but sometimes we’d plan these in advance and book a room if we have to stop over somewhere. They’re usually fun, unless you’re with the wrong crowd.”

He grimaces, and so does Finn, and Leo wonders what memory they’ve dug up. He wants to ask them, but Logan continues rambling about past road trips that he’s been on, some with Finn and some without. The boys let him talk, and eventually they pull up at a gas station when Finn realises that he’s running low on petrol.

“Bathroom, anyone?” Finn asks as he hooks the car up to the nozzle to pump in more petrol. They shake their heads but Leo requests to swap seats with Logan.

“Need more leg space,” He smirks teasingly at Logan, who growls and charges at him, headbutting his chest with full force, eliciting a loud oof from the blonde boy. Finn rolls his eyes fondly and Leo laughs, digging his fingers into Logan’s sides and making him squirm and yell.

“No, Harzy, help me, help mmph—” Logan tries his best to escape Leo’s clutches to no avail, and his knees buckle as he collapses with laughter. Leo holds him up and throws an arm around his shoulders, and Logan leans heavily against his side, gasping.

“All right, all right,” Finn gestures for them to climb back into the car. “Let’s go, if we wanna make it there by lunch we gotta leave now.”

Leo sighs in contentment as he settles into the backseat, sitting sideways so he can stretch his lanky legs across the seat.

“Fucking show off,” Logan grumbles under his breath, and Leo smirks.

“Jealous much?”

Logan huffs and turns back to the front, crossing his arms.

Finn sighs exaggeratedly and cranks up the music, to which Logan starts singing again. He’s a ball of energy, high from the caffeine and he’s bouncing so hard in his seat that Finn has to place one hand on his thigh to remind him that he’s in the passenger seat of a moving vehicle. 

“Lo, honey, please.”

Leo stifles a laugh and leans further back into his seat. He watches the cars speed by them on the highway, and he watches the two boys up front alternating between singing and talking, and he feels his heart thundering in his chest. He doesn’t think he’ll ever stop feeling amazed and in awe of the fact that the two of them are his to love.

He lets the world pass them by, losing himself in the moment and soaking in the realness of it all.

Eventually, they exit the highway, and Leo looks out of the window, trying to decipher their location. He guesses he could just check Google Maps, honestly, but he likes the mystery of it all too.

“Lunch?” Leo sits back up and leans forward, between the two boys. He’s starving; the bagel he had earlier in the morning had barely been enough and of everything they could’ve forgotten to pack, they forgot the snacks. His stomach has been rumbling for a good hour or so.

Finn and Logan grin at each other.

“The usual?”

“Oh, he’ll love it.”

Leo’s brows raise. “The usual? Seems like you’ve been here bef—”

Realisation dawns on him.

read more on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25018075

[florenceandthemachine]

prompt: buck hears eddie talking about him over the car's bluetooth speaker (or the other way around!)

sang so loud, sang so clear on AO3 (2.4k) 

It was safe to say that there was no part of his job that Eddie didn’t like. He loved being part of the community. He loved being able to make a positive change in the worst moments of someone’s life. Hell, he loved helping people in general, and that stretched far beyond the ‘call of duty’; so it was no surprise that when Bobby announced a series of fundraisers that the LAFD were participating in, Eddie was probably the only person who didn’t groan in defeat when Station 6 got to host a carnival while the 118 got stuck with a car wash.

He was excited because it was for charity. Not because it meant he got to have an entire weekend free from fire, free to spend some more time with his kid. That wasn’t it at all.

It also wasn’t because he got to spend some more time with Buck, outside of an assortment of burning buildings. That definitely wasn’t it—because despite what Carla said (and what Abuela said, and what Pepa said, and the looks that Hen shot him) he was an adult who had control over himself and had his...emotions regarding Buck under control.

It wasn’t a crush. He was fine. The fact that he had to go through the Starbucks line again after he got Buck’s order to get his own coffee was purely coincidental.

“Dad, can we play my music?”

“Sure, buddy.”

Eddie idly switched through the radio controls on his truck as he pulled onto the highway, smiling at his son in the rear view mirror as Chris pulled out his phone, working with the accessibility controls easily. The device was still pretty new, and Chris was still getting the hang of it, but after the tsunami Eddie would have bought him one phone for each hand if it meant he would know his son was safe at all times. Paranoia aside, Chris had been elated at cataloguing his life whenever he could—they already had digital albums full of Chris and his school friends, his family, and the things he got to do with Carla while Eddie was stuck at work.

Normally on days like today, Carla would have swung by and picked Chris up from the house, but it was easy enough to push that back an hour or so and have her pick Chris up right from the firehouse when he had all but begged to come in to the 118 and say hi to the team.

And hell, if Eddie got his kid to kick up the cuteness near their tip jar? Eddie wouldn’t complain about that, either.

One of Chris’ favorite albums had wrapped to a close when Eddie pulled off the highway, turning down the volume as they started to approach the 118. The morning was still pretty young, but it looked like they already had a pretty good turnout lined up—there were cars wrapped around the station building, in various stages of drying, with a line pretty steadily moving through the main engine bay. It looked like Bobby had moved the trucks out toward the street for added publicity, meaning the entire floor of the station was filled with cars, suds, and pop-ish music (no doubt, courtesy of Chim).

“Eddie, don’t tell me you actually expect us to wash your truck.” Chim snarked from the stairs, his LAFD tee shirt covered in colorful suds and sticking to his skin, and Eddie only smirked as he shoved a twenty into the donation jar. “Come on now, I’m a paying customer! Are you telling me that you’re gonna turn away someone for a charity drive?”

“No, he isn’t. Eddie, here, gimme the keys.” Eddie beamed as he heard Buck’s voice behind him, sticking his tongue out at Chim in a very mature, grown up way as he helped Chris out of the truck. Reaching back into the drivers seat, he pulled the second coffee out of the holder, the iced drink matching his own save for Buck’s added pumps of sugar—and almost keeled over when he turned around.

Look, if there was one thing that Eddie Diaz knew, it was that life was not fair.

His two tours weren’t fair. His son’s CP wasn’t fair. His marriage with Sharon hadn’t been fair.

But pulling up to the 118, stepping out of his truck, and coming face to face with Buck? Buck, who was clad only in his turnout pants and suspenders, who was dripping wet?

Well, that wasn’t just unfair, that was mean.

“See, Chim, this is why the Diaz’s are my favorite. You gotta step up, man, Eddie brought me my favorite coffee and my favorite Chris.”

Buck was thankfully oblivious as Eddie short circuited, bending down to high five Chris, his face brightening when he saw the second coffee in Eddie’s hands. He pulled the coffee and the keys out of Eddie’s shockingly limp grip, turning to Chim triumphantly as Eddie tried to gather his thoughts. His thoughts, which currently needed gathering, because they were tracing the path a drop of water made as it glided along Buck’s shoulder blades, trailed along to the edge of his torso, resting on a hip that Eddie would very much like to bite, thank you, and—

“Buck, I’ll be giving you an actual niece or nephew! That has to rank better than coffee!”

“Well, first of all, Maddie will be giving me an actual niece or nephew.  Second of all…”

Eddie pulled himself back to realist as Buck and Chim started to bicker, eyes suddenly desperate to look anywhere else before he got distracted again. “Hey, uh, I’m going to set Chris up upstairs, we’ll be down in a second.”

He wasn’t sure if he was more thankful for the easy out or for the distance that he got to put between himself and a half naked Buck, but Eddie was nothing if he wasn’t an idiot—so even as he helped Chris set up some papers around the table at the loft, he still found himself peeking over the railing whenever Buck laughed, or shouted, or did anything that could draw Eddie’s attention away from the here and now as he sipped his coffee.

One of his little dalliances must have taken a little longer than before, because he honestly couldn’t telly ou how much time had passed before he heard Chris speak up.

“Dad’s got a crush on Buck, Dad’s got a crush on Buck...”

Eddie felt his head snap up, his face instantly bright red as he almost choked on his iced coffee. He gasped as he saw Chris hiding behind his cell phone, immediately breaking out into giggles as he pointed his camera back and forth from Eddie to where Buck stood in the engine bay. He was quiet enough, thank fuck, so Eddie didn’t have to do any immediate damage control—just had to save face, doing so with an exaggerated flourish as he easily closed the space between he and Chris, picking his son up playfully with one arm as the other snagged his phone from his hand.

“The lies! The deceit! Betrayed by my own son!”

“Daddy, nooo!”

Eddie found himself laughing as he flopped down on to one of the overstuffed couches in the loft, grinning like a fool as Chris wriggled beside him, his phone still secure in Eddie’s hand, out of Chris’ reach.

“Dad’s got a crush on Buck, Dad’s got a crush on Buck...”

Eddie blinked, looking up as he heard Chris’ words repeated, eyes looking at the loop now playing on his phone. It was a Snapchat—one of the few social apps Eddie allowed on Chris’ phone, after Chris had more or less taught him how to use it (and had promised to send Eddie a few selfies throughout the day).

Chris had done the courtesy of zooming on Buck, bending over to scrub at the rims on Eddie’s truck, and then the camera swung back to Eddie, who... missed his own mouth with his straw, several times, trying to sip from his coffee.

Alright, maybe his crush wasn’t as under control as he thought it was.

“Dad’s got a crush on Buck, Dad’s got a crush on Buck...”

Eddie frowned as his ears twinged, suddenly aware that the sound wasn’t coming from Chris’ phone, the looping audio echoing up to the loft. He put his head next to the phone, trying to tell—were the speakers broken? Was something jammed in a port or whatever?

He turned the volume up, frowning, a little disappointed. He had told Chris how important it was to take care of this things, and if his phone had already been dropped or broken, he would have to—

“DAD’S GOT A CRUSH ON BUCK, DAD’S GOT A CRUSH ON BUCK...”

—he would have to crawl into a hole and die, because that sound wasn’t coming from Chris’ phone, it was coming from Eddie’s truck. Eddie’s truck, which was powered on, and still connected to Chris’ phone from their music this morning.

Eddie’s truck, which thanks to his own idiocy had every speaker blasting, and had a bright red Buck bent over the hood—frozen, like Eddie seemed to be, his face unreadable as he stared up at Eddie in the loft up above the bay. Eddie felt his body go numb as Chris finally stole his phone back, the sound thankfully stopping as he locked his phone.

“Oh fuck.”

“Ooh, you owe a dollar to Carla’s swear jar.”

-

“There’s my number one guy! Chris, how’re you doing?”

Eddie managed to successfully avoid everyone for the better part of an hour—it was easy enough to do, considering they still had a line out the door of people waiting to get their cars scrubbed down by the 118. He felt a small moment of dread spike through his heart as Carla managed to seek them out—he would have a zero chance of hiding if he didn’t have his ‘son-shield’ up.

Eddie managed a small smile as Carla ruffled Chris’ hair, clearing his throat. “Hey, Carla, you brought your van today right?”

“Sure did, what’s up?”

“Oh, nothing. I just need to lie down behind your rear wheels so you can put me out of your misery before you leave.”

“... uh huh.” Carla rose her brow as Chris shoved his papers and markers into his backpack, looking at Eddie in a way that was almost pitying. “Daddy accidentally megaphoned his crush on Buck to the entire station, so he’s been hiding upstairs and helping me draw instead of helping with charities.”

Well, that was one way to put it, though Eddie would have preferred a way that made him feel less of a dick. He winced as he nodded his head, clearing his throat as Carla’s eyes widened. “And that’s why Daddy has to go throw himself into traffic.”

“Well, I would prefer it if you didn’t.” Eddie felt his entire body tense as he heard Buck behind him, only managing a weak wave as Carla whisked Chris off down the stairs—his protests of “but Carla, I wanna listen!” making Eddie go even redder.

At the very least, he wasn’t alone in that boat. Buck was an absolutely delightful shade of pink, and Eddie was fucking distraught to learn that Buck’s blush went all the way down to his chest, because for some reason the other man still hadn’t put on a shirt. Normally, Eddie would have been delighted to see that, but after having his feelings so publicly (even if intentionally) put on blast, all that he wanted was to be swallowed up by the floor.

“Don’t worry, I’d make sure Chim had to scrape me off the pavement, you wouldn’t have to worry about it.” Eddie said, his humor landing a little dark—Buck didn’t laugh, but his smile did grow, and Eddie counted that as a win as he sighed. “Look, Buck, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make things weird and I don’t want to—“

“Oh, Eddie, I’m not here to talk about that, I just wanted to get your help scrubbing on the floor.”

Oh. The car wash, right. Eddie felt his stomach drop as he swallowed, processing what Buck had said, nodding his head. Buck wanted to look past it, pretend it hadn’t happened. That was... fine. Eddie hitched a smile onto his face, nodding his head as he looked down the floor, finding the tie of his own boots fascinating. “Yeah, no, you’re right. Sorry I was putting it off, I’ll grab some towels and I can—“

“Actually, you should start washing up with me. I was thinking we could make a bet out of it.”

Eddie looked back up, curiosity outweighing all the weight in his stomach as he tilted his head, trying to get a read on Buck—even if all he could see was that delicious blush, trailing down Buck’s neck and fucking Christ, across his chest. “A bet? Buck, I don’t know if—”

“Whoever gets the most tips has to pay for dinner... tonight? After we’ve dried off?”

Eddie felt his jaw click shut as Buck cut him off again, his brain trying to work a mile a minute as he caught up with what Buck had said.

Because if he didn’t know any better, if sounded like Buck was asking him out on a date.

“Buck, you... you? Me, when... you really... when I...”

“Eddie, will you please just say yes? I was going to ask you an hour ago, but you’ve been hiding very unsuccessfully from me.”

Buck was asking him out to dinner. Buck was asking, him, Eddie Diaz, out to dinner, after Eddie all but humiliated himself. Buck had been waiting since that moment to ask Eddie out to dinner. Oh this, this he could certainly work with.

“So… dinner, huh? You’re on. But if you’re going to be working in just your turnouts, so am I.”

Yeah, he could work with that. And two could play at this game.

(If Carla was laughing when Eddie explained their little bet over the phone later, she was all but howling when Eddie admitted he won, asking if she could watch Chris for a few more hours and for recommendations as to where he could take Buck on their first date—even as Chris shouted “good luck, dad!” over the phone.)