#i was just applying for chill jobs around town so I could stay at home for a bit and support my little sisters through the divorce

[flavia8]

Fuck it we ball, I'm applying for out of state ecology jobs this is ridiculous

[angel-of-the-moons]

Chocolates vs Aliens

Eddie/Venom x Pregnant!Fem!Reader

TW/CW: Fluff, details of pregnancy , childbirth mentions. Venom loves babies! This! Is! A hill! I will die on!

A/N: The winners of the poll! I'll do the Moon Boys next! Also okay its not a drabble but enjoy this hot word vomit asdfghjkl idk should I make a part 2??

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"SHE IS OUT OF CHOCOLATE?!" Venom's voice boomed inside his head.

"Relax, buddy, we can hit up the 7/11 down the street." Eddie scoffed, adjusting his wireless earbud. Thankfully it looked like he was on the phone, so he could talk freely to Venom without anyone thinking he was insane.

And well, he kind of was, a tiny bit.

Just a tad...

"BUT I CAN SMELL IT!" The symbiote whined childishly as Eddie scooped the frozen egg rolls into the wiry basket looped over his arms.

"Yeah yeah, I know. Mrs Chen could have eaten the last one, Vee. Just chill. How about some chocolate ice cream?" Eddie grinned at the pun.

"No! We always get brain freezes!" He entity huffed.

"Because you scarf down the whole tub in one go." Eddie chuckled.

Venom grumbled again, and a tendril snaked out from beneath Eddie's sweater and dropped a box of brownie mix into the basket. "Fine. I can settle with these."

"Whatever you say, love, but you're helping me bake the shit." The man shrugged in reply as he remembered to grab a carton of milk. He'd need some eggs, too... Well, at least his landlord let him move the chicken coop to the roof in exchange for some free eggs.

Those chickens were fat and spoiled, and Venom loved the little critters dearly, which Eddie always found humorous. Now, whenever Eddie made the joke of turning them into KFC, Venom would be aghast and headbutt him, citing that Sonny and Cher were his "babies".

He'd been talking like that a lot lately, Eddie realized. Venom apparently had a paternal streak in him. Eddie noticed that as well when Venom would find homeless kids or runaways, helping them and trying to seem as non-threatening as possible, even going as far as to change his fangs so they were blunt. (One of the kids assured him that was far creepier than the monster fangs, which made Eddie nearly keel over in laughter...)

"Deal." Venom purred happily, the tendril receding back to slip beneath Eddie's shirt and wrap around him like a hug.

"Alright, alright." Eddie chuckled, grabbing an extra box just in case as he walked around the shelves, sparing a glance at his phone to check the time.

"Eddie." Venom's voice said.

"What?" Eddie lifted his gaze, feeling Venom's haste flood him and put him on alert.

His eyes trailed the store until he landed on the checkout counter, where you were sitting. Not Mrs Chen, but cute, innocent, blissful you.

You were happily munching on a chocolate bar, one of the very ones Venom wanted. It would seem you had claimed it, eating the sugary morsel happily.

"Oh." Eddie mumbled.

He felt it as Venom seized control of his legs suddenly, sending him forward in jerking motions until he practically ran into the counter, making you jump in surprise.

"Oh! Sorry!" He smiled awkwardly, a faint blush to his cheeks.

'Venom, quit it! I'll get you chocolate later!' He said mentally to the alien inhabiting his body.

"No, Eddie. Wait."

"I, ah... Got a bit sidetracked and tripped over my feet." He added.

You smiled at him, "Oh, god. Yeah, I feel you. Lately it's like dragging my heels through wet cement." You chuckled.

Huh. You were... God, you were cute. He could tell even Venom thought so. With your cute fluffy turtleneck and your hair all done, your cheeks nice and rosy from the blush you'd applied.

Which... brought up the question.

"I've never seen you 'round here before." Eddie commented. "Mrs Chen is usually the only person I see in here..."

"Oh! I'm new in town, I live just down and street and she saw my situation and offered me a part-time here. I have a work from home job and everything, but ugh, just staying cooped up inside is so boring!" You say the last part with a groan.

"Damn, would've been nice if she offered me that job a couple years ago." Eddie chuckled.

You giggled a bit at him and looked at his basket, "Is that all for ya, hon?"

"Oh, yeah!" Eddie said, carefully organizing the things onto the glass counter. His eyes flicked to the candy bar you were still steadily breaking pieces off of.

"Bit of a sweet tooth, huh?" He teased.

"Ugh, god... lately? Yes! The craving for it has been absolute hell." You sigh exhaustedly. "Almost everything in my apartment is chocolate flavored or scented now!"

"... Cravings?" Eddie echoed, raising a thick brow.

"Okay, I know what you're thinking and no. It's not "that time of the month" like your brain is probably saying." You snort.

Eddie watches as your hand trails down to your midsection and you pat your belly beneath the plush fabric of your sweater, where a gentle swell stood out a bit more prominently as you smooth the fabric taut over your stomach.

"I just have a certain little jellybean who thinks they can dictate what mama wants to eat all the time. And apparently, chocolate is what's on the menu for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. And... in between." You chuckle.

"OH." Eddie and Venom thought in unison.

"That's why she smells like that!" Venom barked, realizing the underlying scent of chocolate on you was laced with something else. Hormones. He was picking up on those, too.

"Oh! Uh, congrats!" Eddie said, clearing his throat awkwardly. "I'm sure you and your, uh, partner are probably super happy, huh?"

"Oh, no, it's just me." You smiled with a hum, taking another little sweet square between your lips.

Eddie's brow furrowed. "What?"

"Okay, so I'm not gonna be rude, but I will explain." You snicker. You seemed infinitely patient and polite about the subject. Apparently this very thing must be a common occurrence with you, that random people must constantly ask this same question, and how tiring it surely must be to answer it again and again...

"No, I don't have a partner, husband, or anything. No daddy."

Eddie awkwardly pointed to your belly. "Then how did y'know... that get in there?"

Eddie controlled the flinch he wanted to make when Venom pinched him. "You did NOT just call her baby a THAT!"

"Yeah, yeah I know. But there's something everyone forgets, and that it doesn't always "take two to tango"." You smile at him again, ringing up his items with one hand, chocolate still clutched firmly in another.

"I decided that I wanted to be a mom. But I didn't want to just go out and get pregnant willy nilly. I have a good job, steady income. But I don't have time to date and there's always the concern that I'd be left a single parent if whoever I was with decided parenthood wasn't for them, y'know?"

Eddie nodded patiently as he and Venom listened to you with rapt attention.

"I went to a fertility clinic, did what the doctor said, then had my egg fertilized with a sperm donor. And then boom," You point to your belly. "Jellybean."

"Oh, that... Yeah okay I forget fertility clinics are a thing." Eddie laughed, shaking his head.

"Well I'm glad you're so open-minded about it!" You grin. "Most people judge me and go "oh your baby needs a father!" and the ever so classic "you don't even know who the father is?" line."

Eddie frowned, and he could tell even Venom was irritated on your behalf. "You don't need to have a partner or spouse to raise a baby. Seriously. What is this, the 1940s?"

"I knoooow!" You giggle again. "And besides! I can support me and my baby just fine, and I'm already happy and so far the pregnancy has been a breeze!"

Eddie could feel a tugging sensation from Venom. The symbiote was curious, and wanted to touch. But Eddie knew that was not only rude as hell, but to some people, socially unacceptable if you don't know the person or ask permission first.

"How uh, far along are you?"

"I just hit my second trimester." You chirp proudly, patting your belly. "The baby's tiny, but I'm finally showing, now."

"Ohhh." Eddie snapped his fingers. "Hence "jellybean", right?"

"Yes!" You laugh.

Eddie pulled out his card and swiped it to pay for the groceries. "It's a cute nickname. Have you thought of any names yet?"

Your brain did a record scratch, and Eddie could see the look on your face.

Nope. Not at all.

You hadn't thought of a damn one. Especially because you didn't know the sex of your baby yet.

"Uh...."

Eddie started snickering at your expression, "Ahhh. My bad." He shoots you a cocky grin, "If I can recommend a name, Eddie is a pretty strong one!"

"Weak." Venom mocked.

"Eddie?" You echo, blinking.

"Oh, don't listen to him, girl." Mrs Chen snorted as she walked up to you two, whacking Eddie with a rolled up newspaper. "This boy is nothing but trouble!"

Her words were jabbing, but not spoken without affection, so you could tell they had a history together.

"Ow! Hey!" Eddie pouted, rubbing the top of his head.

"Oh please, I'd need to shoot this out of a cannon to dent that hard head of yours!" She huffed with a smirk, crossing her arms.

She tilted her head and noticed the candy bar in your hand, and made the mental connection with Eddie and Venom. Riiiiiight. Venom needed chocolate. Mrs Chen tossed it to you when you started scrolling through your phone for door dash orders for chocolate cakes from local restaurants to sate your cravings.

"Oh, right. Sorry about your chocolate fix." Mrs Chen replied, her gum smacking softly. "Gave the lady one to help ease her stomach."

The flush to your cheeks made Eddie smile as you looked at the candy in your hand. "I'm sorry!" You sputtered.

"Hey, man, you got a baby in you. You can't exactly tell the little, uh.... eh. The little person they can't have it?" Eddie struggled. He wasn't sure how the whole cravings thing worked, honestly. Would you indeed cry if he didn't accept your offer? Would your baby get hungry? Was that a thing? He knew jack and shit about babies in general, man.

"Pff, moron."

'Parasite.'

"I AM NOT A PARASITE!"

"Oh, I know but uh..." You say, your eyelashes fluttering as you think, looking from Eddie to the bar in your hand. You decided to finish breaking off the pieces you were working on, and extend your hand giving the rest to Eddie. "Here! I'm good, if I need more I can nab some from the gas station down the street."

"Oh! Uh... I don't wanna, y'know. Take anything from you and your baby." Eddie said, waving his hands.

"Eddie, if you refuse to take it, she could cry." Mrs Chen teased. "You don't want to make a pregnant woman cry do you?"

Eddie's face was hilarious as panic started to bubble up within him as he looked from you, to your outstretched hand, to Mrs Chen, who stood as proud as can be at the chaos she had just sewn.

"Hey! I'm not that hormonal!" You retort to the older lady. But... you deflate a tiny bit. "...Okay, well not yet but still!"

Eddie was still going through the moral dilemma of accepting the kind gesture vs taking candy from a literal baby in somebody's womb.

Venom made the choice for him, extending our Eddie's hand and letting him take it.

"I, uh... Thanks." Eddie blabbered quickly.

"Now let's go home before you make an idiot out of us further." Venom cackled gleefully at the socially awkward situation.

Eddie grabbed the plastic bags and gave an awkward wave and a smile before skittering out of the store with his tail between his legs.

"Geez, he needs to get laid once in a while." Mrs Chen scoffed, going over to check inventory.

You barely had a moment to collect yourself, stopping before you laughed so hard you peed yourself.

That was the first time you and Eddie ever met. It would not be the last.

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Eddie shopped at Mrs Chen's place pretty regularly, her prices were easy on the wallet and she was close by to he and Venom's apartment.

You steadily built up a rapport with Eddie over the next two or three weeks. Venom was inexplicably drawn to you, wanting to constantly convince Eddie to touch your belly.

Eddie kept reminding him that it was frankly rude as shit to do that, and that hell, it would probably make you uncomfortable.

Not long after that, Eddie and Venom discovered--to Venom's utter glee--thay you lived in the same building, the apartment just above his. They found this out when Venom insisted on making sure you made it home after your shift at Mrs Chen's ended, knowing how vulnerable a pregnant lady looked to crooks and criminals.

Twice Venom caught and ate the brains of lowlifes who tried stalking you.

Venom, despite you not knowing of his existence, was fiercely protective of you. And... well he liked you. They liked you.

Eddie hated how quickly both he and Venom became infatuated with you, listening to you talk about your baby, your cravings... They could tell you were lonely despite your cheerful demeanor. Yes, Eddie and Venom had each other already, but they quickly thought about adding you to the mix.

But again, you didn't know about the alien slime monster living inside of Eddie. That subject would have to definitely wait...

He would check on you, leaning his head out his window on occasion to talk to you as you looked up, it brightened up the monotony of your at-home life in between work, asking about how you were feeling as your pregnancy developed. He even texted you lists of different baby names and their meanings to help you out!

When he first asked you out, you were floored. You've never met a man who was interested in a woman pregnant with somebody else's baby, before. You've heard about it sure, but... You were more surprised anyone was interested in you while pregnant with some guy's baby. Let alone your cute downstairs neighbor who apparently babied his pet chickens that were kept on the rooftop.

He even introduced you to them! You didn't hold them of course, for fear of bacteria, and chuckled as he furiously disinfected himself before even coming within three feet of you, all for you and your baby's health.

A man who was sweet, considerate, caring and he loves animals? Add the looks to that bill and that was a difference you were willing to pay. How was he still single?!

But... Well. That changed after your first date, and he was glad you accepted it all.

And it wasn't long after that (several weeks actually) you discovered he wasn't, in fact, single. He didn't have a girlfriend or anything but he certainly had a partner.

Said partner... was some kind of ooze-critter that lived inside of him. And you only found this out when you came home from a late night convenience store run for some triple chocolate chunk ice cream, walked into your apartment...

And saw him.

Venom, in his hulking form, stood awkwardly in your apartment, looking like a deer trapped in headlights when you flicked your lights back on, the ice cream in your bag forgotten.

As your door slowly swung closed due to angled flooring, you opened your mouth to scream.

Venom cut you off, his massive hands shooting up and he waved them, "DON'T SCREAM!"

You snapped your mouth shut, your teeth making an audible click as your heart hammered in your chest.

"We were worried! You weren't responding to our texts or when we knocked on your door?" His deep and rumbly voice growled out.

You shudder at the timbre of his voice, eyes never once leaving the rows of jagged fangs in his maw. You drop your plastic bag and step back, covering your belly--now very prominent as you were later in your term--protectively.

That seems to... upset him? He frowned, looking at the carpet as he lowered his hands, his large eyes narrowing as he carefully thought, trying to think of ways to alleviate the fear bubbling through you.

He took a slow step towards you, like you were a frightened animal caught in a trap that he had to be gentle with, lest you struggle or flail and get hurt.

"We were worried about you. We--" His head snapped to his left and he snarled. "Yes! "We"! You were worried, too! Don't try to say you weren't!"

You watch, in shock as he has essentially a one-sided argument with himself, getting exasperated, saying the word "love" and "dear" here and there.

You stayed, scared, until the ugly sensation of your nausea reared its ugly head and you dropped the plastic bag, literally shoving past this gigantic creature in a mad dash to your bathroom or you were gonna blow chunks right then and there.

You didn't even shut the door before you collapsed to your knees, hugging the bowl as you heaved the contents of your digestive system into the pearly white porcelain, leaving what could only be the Venom, the creature that supposedly stalked your city eating people, in your living room.

By the end of the nausea fit, your eyes were watery, your nose was runny and your face blotched with color, the whites of your eyes glassy from the strain. You felt lightheaded and dizzy as you rinsed your mouth with water right from the tap, gargling and spitting until the foul acidic taste went away.

You felt your now empty stomach growl and your first instinct was to go get food and eat again, to replenish the energy you just spent hurling everything you ate that day.

But then you remembered...

The big guy.

You didn't have any sort of object to wield as a weapon, so you merely sheepishly peeked around the corner, watching as the creature called Venom gingerly moved about your kitchen, things that looked like tentacles reaching out and grabbing a cup, some ice, and a can of ginger ale from your fridge and pour it into the cup; all the while making a sandwich. Nutella with your banana/mango spread. A favorite you'd started to enjoy in the past week.

But the only person you ever told that to was...

You froze when he turned around, locking eyes with you as he set the food on your breakfast island, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck.

"We... We know that you're probably hungry after... So we figured..." He said, gesturing vaguely to the food and drink in front of him.

"How do you know..." You breathed.

His colossal shoulders heave as he sighed, walking around the island and over to you, stopping just a mere few feet away.

"Promise not to be mad? Or scream?"

You weren't sure why in the hell he asked you that, but you felt already too far gone into shock to really argue. Plus, throwing up took all urges to scream from your poor sore throat.

So, you nodded.

"Okay."

You watched as the strange black goo peels back layer by slinking layer, until a man is revealed beneath.

But it's not just any man.

It's fucking Eddie. Your neighbor-turned-recent-boyfriend.

"You--!"

"We can explain! Just please, please don't be mad at us!" Eddie winced.

You felt another dizzy spell start to hit at this revelation. "How long--"

"A few years. Look, we planned on telling you. It's just... not tonight. When you didn't answer my texts or calls, I got worried and..." He sighed.

You watched as Venom's head moved out from behind Eddie's shoulder to peer at you, the thick black goo that made up the appendage holding his head up moving almost like water. He offered you a smile, and part of you wished that'd solve the tension in the air, to assuage your increasing confusion. But sadly, it didn't.

"Vee didn't want to fucking wait an extra ten minutes when you didn't answer the door and climbed through your window, which you should start locking I mean I know we're on the upper floors with no balcony or fire escape, but it's still a safety concern and with the baby--"

You interrupted Eddie's rambling. "Vee?" You echo.

"Uh--okay. That's what I call Venom when he isn't being an incorrigible shithead. Or a parasite who takes control of my body." Eddie sighed.

You almost laughed when Venom headbutted him in the side of his head.

"Stop calling me that! It's rude!" Venom snarled.

"No, what's rude is breaking into somebody's apartment!" Eddie retorted, jabbing a finger at Venom. "We talked about this!"

"You were worried, too!"

"Yes but I wasn't going to crawl through her goddamn window!"

Your eyes darted from one to the other as they started bickering like a... like a... Oh.

Yeah. It was after a two hour long conversation that Eddie told you everything. About his ex, the Life Foundation, finding Venom, fighting Riot, then the whole thing with Carnage, Venom's offspring... and of course, their actual relationship with one another, now. They argued like a married couple because they basically were one, complete with... well. You weren't ready in the current situation to imagine how the bedroom situation worked between them, yet.

You took it better than he expected. Way better.

"Honestly.... The only thing scarier than Venom is childbirth." You said, sitting next to him on the couch, your hands on your belly.

"...Eddie." you said slowly.

"Uh--yeah? What's up, sweetheart?" He asked awkwardly, Venom's eyes immediately drawn down to where your hands caressed the bump beneath your thin t shirt.

"How come you haven't asked to touch my belly yet? I'm... surprised. I've had random people come up to me and ask, but not... you."

"Wait... uh. So. You're giving... Permission?" Eddie asked, blinking his big, ridiculously lashed eyes at you.

"Well, yeah, and--"

"FINALLY!" Venom hissed.

In a black blur, Venom lurched forward over Eddie's shoulder, straight for your tummy. He pressed the side of his head against your belly, tendrils of his strange slime-like flesh wrapping around your midsection; listening to the baby's heartbeat and feeling for any movements.

Eddie meanwhile, looked equal parts horrified and embarrassed as he facepalmed, blushing all the way to his ears. "That's why. He's been fucking obsessed with you and your baby since he first realized you were pregnant."

You looked down as the symbiote cuddled you, and by extension, your baby, your jaw agape at how he was purring while he nuzzled into you.

"...That's why you're always so concerned about me?" You asked dumbly, blinking over at Eddie, who gave you an awkward smile and shrug in reply.

"Yeah, hate to break it to you, doll, but... Vee has kinda... claimed you two." He said.

"Claimed me." You repeated.

"Yeah. He has this thing... with kids?" He rolled his hand to try and think of words to describe it. "He's overprotective. He's the same with Sonny and Cher, it's just... he doesn't interact with many pregnant people so when he met you, that weird little drive kicked in. The fact that we both started feeling something for you outside of that kinda blindsided us, but..."

"So what?" Venom scoffed, resting his chin on the curve of your belly, looking up at you with a grin. "This is our baby now, and we will protect the both of you."

"Venom!" Eddie snapped.

"You claimed us?" You were having a difficult time wrapping your head around this. All of it. The whole situation in general. First your boyfriend has a boyfriend who technically isn't a boy but identifies as one because gender was a foreign concept to his species, they were together before they met you, Venom is a literal alien--

And now... was he saying...

"L-Look, I know it's early on and we haven't been dating long, but..." Eddie rubbed his sweaty palms on his faded-out jeans.

"Are you two saying... that you want to be with me? Rest of the pregnancy, birth, and all?"

The hell was your life, some kind of weird, cheap, sci-fi romance novel? The dashing, handsome alien(s) swoop in and offer to help raise your baby? What kind of parallel world were you in?

Eddie was quiet, and Venom merely stared at him, before looking back at you.

"Yes." He said. "Eddie is too much of a pussy to say it, but he likes the idea of taking care of a tiny you."

"Venom! Fuck! Stop calling me that!" Eddie snapped at the symbiote as he protectively snuggled your tummy.

Venom merely stuck his tongue out at him, "I will when you stop calling me a parasite!" He looked back up at you, giving you the best rendition he could of a hurt puppy. "Do you see how he talks to me? Despicable!"

You snorted a short laugh before you could stop yourself, and covered your mouth.

"Hah! See? She thinks I'm funny! So shut it!"

"Oh, my god, that does not count--"

"Yes it does I already won." Venom said contentedly.

"Look!" Eddie groans. "Just... We are willing to be with you. Take care of you, and help with the baby. If... you'll have us. I know this whole situation is weird, but..." Eddie trails off, looking at you hopefully.

The decision wasn't as difficult as you thought it'd be. Eddie and Venom haven't given you a reason to be afraid--other than scaring the shit out of you earlier because Venom apparently has fucking anxiety--and, well... They were so sweet, and gentle... And if Venom doting on your unborn baby currently was any indication, the affection would probably increase a hundred fold after your little bundle of joy arrived.

"Okay." You said.

All the tension seemed to drain from Eddie's body and he sighed, a relieved smile blooming on his face as he looked at you with a look in his eyes that had your heart doing a little flip in your chest.

"Thank God..." Eddie sighed happily.

Venom grinned widely at you, before shooting back to Eddie and seizing the body again, his inky black mass covering Eddie entirely.

Your couch creaked under the added weight of Venom's increased mass as he leaned over, dwarfing your whole body as he wrapped his thick, tree-trunk arms around your tinier body, nuzzling into your cheek before giving you a kiss. Thankfully no tongue, because you thought you'd probably choke if he did that.

When he pulled back, your face was flush at the boldness of his actions, and looked up at him as his opalescent eyes narrowed sweetly down at you.

But something Venom said clicked into your brain, finally, once it rebooted from the kiss.

"Venom, you said you two wouldn't mind helping raise a tiny me." You began. "But I don't know if I'm having a boy or girl, yet."

"Oh, we can." Venom grinned. "I could tell when I was holding onto you. It was easy."

"What?!" You sputter.

"You're having a little girl, by the way."

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You booked an appointment two weeks later. And damn, Venom was right. You were having a girl! At least the naming situation was easier, now that you narrowed down the sex.

Many people said you and Eddie were moving fast, but you ignored them because they didn't know the real situation. Your apartment was bigger, two rooms, one for you (and now Eddie and Venom) and the other was the nursery for the baby.

Eddie was affectionate, but Venom was downright clingy. He was almost always wrapped around your belly in some way or another, purring as he used his weird slimy body to massage you. He helped with your back strain surprisingly, how he would massage you. Eddie proposed maybe letting Venom bond with you for the remainder of the pregnancy to ensure safety and good health, but Venom shot the idea down himself.

He explained it like it was a bit like an organ donor match, if you weren't a match for him you could get sick, or God forbid both you and the baby could die. And to Eddie's surprise Venom made the nature decision to settle for massaging your back and tummy to ease the strain.

Venom jumped at the chance to rub your coconut oil into your belly to help ease the risk and appearance of stretch marks, too.

Through the mood swings, crazy cravings and nesting phases and all, you two boyfriends stayed with you through all of it. Several times you woke up to Venom and Eddie cooking in the kitchen, making sure you had a decent breakfast in the morning.

The only problem was... well. They cooked like broke college boys. So, you spent time giving them cooking lessons, which was one of the funnest things you'd done in a while. The messes were worth cleaning up, the cute recordings you made were memories that'd last a very very long time.

Nighttime cuddles were great, Venom slinking beneath the blankets to wrap around both you and Eddie to snuggle, massaging you the whole night. It really helped when he would conform a certain way so you could lay on your side comfortably and ease the strain on your poor spine and hips.

Who needed a pregnancy pillow when you had a symbiote, right?

Eddie and Venom read up as much as they could on the subject of babies and childbirth and to say Eddie was terrified was an absolute understatement. The photos and diagrams alone had him chewing his nails (getting a swift smack from Venom) and he felt himself getting queasy when he found out that apparently you would be delivering the placenta as well?!

How much did you have to go through, making a tiny human?!

This whole situation amused the fuck out of you, however, as you'd done all this research and merely accepted it. A bit of blood, etcetera after delivery seemed easy to deal with given you've dealt with your period since puberty and that alone was a mess by itself...

But watching a man learn more about it? Oh, it was hilarious.

But hey! They were excited for a cute little baby girl to snuggle and kiss!

One night, you were laying in bed as you scrolled through various baby items online, saving a few cute things for later. Eddie had his head on your shoulder, watching a movie, with an arm draped over your belly, now painfully (sometimes literally) obvious bump, feeling the baby shift and move around as she kicked inside of you.

Venom had encapsulated Eddie's arm, his massive hand stroking your tummy idly.

Apparently, a thought had been bouncing around in Venom's brain and he finally decided to ask it. His head morphed from behind Eddie and peered over at you.

"The baby is a girl." He said.

"Yeah, Venom, that's been established." Eddie snorted, moving until his cheek was resting on your chest.

"Eddie, that's mean." You chuckle, running your fingers through his hair. "Venom, continue."

"Thank you, sweet thing." Venom purred at you, shooting Eddie a glare afterwards.

"But anyway... If the baby is a girl now..." He tipped his head to the side. "What if the baby decides or realizes when she's older that she isn't one? Or either?"

You lower your phone, eyebrows raised at the gravity of his question. Even Eddie sat up on his elbow to look at Venom, surprised at the depth of the question coming from his symbiote. Honestly though, the subject made sense coming from a species that technically didn't have genders in the first place...

Venom seemed happy with your reply, and looked to Eddie expectantly. He already knew what his opinion was, but he wanted him to say it out loud for you.

"Well..." You begin. "If she decides she wasn't born the right gender, or feels like she's neither, or even leaning on both scales... I won't have a problem. I just want our baby to be happy and healthy, not conformed or trapped in any way. That includes the identity she will have as she realizes things about herself."

"Well, I don't have room to talk on gender identity." Eddie snickered. "Considering how you didn't really decide to go by male pronouns until you bonded with me and stuck with that identity because it fit for you... so, yeah. Whatever the baby decides when she's old enough is fine with me."

You grin and kiss Eddie on his temple, ruffling his hair as Venom nuzzles into your belly.

Yeah...

Safe, happy, and loved. That's what your baby would be, no matter what. With her two weird dads and her mom who puts up with their nonsense.

[konigsluvr]

Hey hey! I'd like to request König headcanons please. I was thinking more of his childhood but it can be anything really :D thanks x

Also I'm an Avatar fan too! Don't seem to know a lot of people who are into both #teamneteyam

Hey!! I looooove Avatar so much, I haven't been reading it much lately but 2 months ago I was on tumblr all day, everyday just reading various Avatar fics (best days of my life). I miss neteyam so much :(( I really hope this is to your liking<3 i have included some NSFW headcannons, but there will be a warning, if you are uncomfortable, just skip. Reposts are highly appreciated. I will literally marry you. And of course, here I present...

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König Headcanons

Includes: Childhood König. König x fem!reader. Fluff. Spice. Smut.

☆ As said in his biography, he has suffered from severe social anxiety throughout his life. This probably started developing in maybe late childhood/early teens.

☆ I can picture him as the quiet kid in school. Had a couple chill friends that he was comfortable around and hung out with after school.

☆ I think König was average grade student (like me lmao), not bad grades but not super good either, he just did what he had to do at school.

☆ He liked helping around the house so he could contribute and help his parents save time.

☆ He applied to the military at 17, having a job that allows him to blow off steam would help with his anxiety sometimes but if it's a more dangerous mission than usual, his anxiety might peak but he could have coping mechanisms.

☆ Even though he is 6'10" and literally all muscle, he can't stay still. Due to his anxiety again, he is fidgety at times depending on the social situation he is in. Now this leads onto the relationship stuff.

☆ With him being fidgety, I feel his love language is physical touch. He can sometimes struggle with his words but you always know that he loves you when he cuddles you or does little things like playing with your hair or holding your hand whenever you are in public.

☆ König isn't the best at working with technology but you'll show him how he can text you and phone you, so whenever he has free time at base or whenever he isn't with you, expect him spamming you with texts because he misses you so much :((

☆ He has a gym at home for when he wants to work out but with him having such a physical job he doesn't feel the need to workout everyday, maybe 3 or 4 times a week when he's home with you but at base he'll do it more as its like the only thing to do there.

☆ He enjoys going on walks. When he's home with you he'll love going on a walk in the woods or just wondering around town with you, go shopping to get food for supper or something, he'll sneakily buy flowers to surprise you. At base, he sometimes can't sleep well so he'll just walk around for some fresh air to clear his mind.

☆ His down time with you would be watching your favourite show or a random movie. He would do it just to cuddle up or be with you but he will get invested. Like I watched the notebook last night and I was thinking about König crying as you watch the notebook together.

☆ Like you'll be watching the movie and a sad scene comes up, you are already crying and you hear a sniffle but it isn't from you. You turn to your left and see a tear rolling down Königs cheek. This will make you cry harder as you wipe away his tears and cuddle into his neck.

☆ With König having a high payed job, he has a lot of money that he doesn't know how to spend. Lucky him, he has you. You would tell him its no bother, that you have enough clothes and pretty jewellery to last you a lifetime but he drags you to the car to your favourite store and you can't help but give in.

☆ He would get a former guard dog and train it to only command you and him, this dog would stay at home with you all the time. You would take it out walks and just spend your whole day with it. He wants to make sure you are safe all of the time.

NSFW AHEAD!!

☆ He likes to take it slow, make ethereal love to you and treat you like your made of glass. You would let a few tears roll down your cheek from his sweetness.

☆ Pussy eater!!! He is like a god with his tongue. Worships your clit like its his favourite thing while his fingers work in and out of you. It doesn't matter if you are crying from overstimulation, you have a safe word. His only mission is making you cum.

☆ Loves face sitting, literally just loves your pussy on his face and your thighs pushing against the side of his head. You would tell him that you are too heavy, he huffs frustrated and pulls you down on him and instantly gets to work. Let's just say, you forgot about what you said 3 seconds ago.

☆ Breeding kink. Sorry, not sorry. In all his fantasies about you, it's you all pretty n pregnant with his baby. You will have that pregnant woman glow and he just can't keep his hands off of you. He doesn't really wear condoms but you'll usually be on the pill, he still struggles to pull out but it's nearly impossible for him. But when he does cum in you, he finds it the sexiest thing ever. He'll use his fingers to plunge his load back into you to feed his growing hunger.

☆ He loves when you top him and take your time with him, but he also enjoys being in charge and having his sole focus on you, even if you just came for the fourth time from his tongue and his cock is rock hard.

☆ The ratio between him giving you head and you giving him head is very diverse. He loves a good blowie but only does it when you want to, he will never ask you.

☆ Isn't one for quickies, he wants to take his time with you. He wouldn't like the risk of someone else seeing you being intimate with him, that is a sight only for him to see.

☆ Isn't afraid to make noise in the bedroom. Whimpering. Moaning. Whining. Groaning. He does it all.

I hoped you liked this!! If you have any more requests don't be shy. Stay safe and take care of yourself my lovies xx

[anthonysstupiddailyblog]

Anthony’s Stupid Daily Blog (290): Sat 31st Dec 2022

My final workday of 2022. We were told at the start of the shift that although we were scheduled to finish at 4 today there was a possibility that we would be allowed to finish even earlier. I thought that they meant we would get to finish an hour earlier than planned bur at 12:50 we got a message through on our screens telling us we were finishing at 1 which was fucking awesome and music to my ears. I genuinely thought that I’d never have a job that I’d look forward to. I thought that a job like this was, like a good Jennifer Aniston film that isn’t Office Space, non-existent. Luckily this job has changed all that. Don’t get me wrong there are some days where I wake up after not having had enough sleep (due to staying up later in order to pack more stuff in after not getting back in from work until six) and bemoan having to return to work already but for the most part I’m happy to go to work for a hard days graft because I know the company pays handsomely in addition to rewarding those who work their arses off.

Since I now had the rest of the afternoon on free I decided to pop over to the town and pay the remaining balance for my holiday to LA. The moment I pressed the enter button on the travel agent’s card machine felt so good because now I know it’s definitely happening: I’m going to WrestleMania (well I shouldn’t say “definitely” since the plane could still crash or the stadium could still fall into a giant sinkhole but on paper I am going to WrestleMania and the Lakers game).

2022 has been a VERY mixed bag for me. For the first six months I went through serious mental fatigue thanks to the fact that for some reason that I can’t quite put my finger on I decided to accept a job in the fraud department with TSB. For someone who hates having to talk to people this was perhaps the worst possible career move imaginable. It didn’t help that the people responsible for training me and giving me guidance were fucking useless. I suffered multiple anxiety attacks and I would wake up dreading having to go to work because I knew by the time I got home my head would be in even worse shape. Luckily a few months after starting this job I decided on a whim to apply for a job at a factory and within one week I had started there and I’ve never looked back. Although this job is exhausting it’s still a major improvement on where I was before plus the money is good and critically: I don’t have to talk to any fucking customers. Other highlights from 2022 were starting therapy, taking surfing lessons, Edinburgh, Italy, and finally visiting Portmeirion. Therapy was great as it enabled me to finally get a few things off my chest without having to bite my tongue and worry about upsetting people. Surfing was great although o didn’t have as many lessons as o would like to have had. As soon as it gets warm next year I’m going to be down the beach at every opportunity to get better. Shinsuke Nakamura says that he never took surfing lessons but rather just learned through trial and error and is now a really skilled boarder. As tempting as it is to practice on my own I enjoyed the social aspect of surfing as the instructor and the people I was sharing the lessons with were nice guys so I think I’ll just carry on with the lessons. Edinburgh was fantastic as always but next time I don’t think I’ll buy tickets for so many shows as having to rush off from one to catch the start of another was exhausting at times. Visiting Italy for our first family holiday in four years was a tremendous experience. I enjoyed getting to chill by the pool in the baking sun plus having a guided tour around Pompeii was a great way to spend my break away from that hellacious call centre. I have high hopes for 2023 in fact I’ve already got three items penciled in to cross off my bucket list. I’ve always wanted to visit California…well actually I already have visited California but it was at the end of my Route 66 journey and I was knackered by then so I couldn’t really enjoy it. This time around it will be nice to experience to whole city of Los Angeles plus hopefully surf in Venice Beach. As soon as I get the cheque that HMRC have been promising me for half a year I’m going to book my tickets to see the Lakers play against the Clippers in what will hopefully be a superfluous game as by the time April comes around they will have already qualified for the playoffs. Finally in April the boyhood dream will come true as I will at long last attend WrestleMania. For someone who has been a wrestling fan since 1998 going to a WrestleMania has been the holy grail of wrestling fandom. I was planning on paying to go to the 2020 event and thank fuck I didn’t because that was the year the world shit down. But everything looks good to go this time around and rumours of a Rock vs Roman main event make me even more excited for my first (and perhaps only) WrestleMania. In addition to the surfing lessons I also want to finally finish my Edgar Award winning novel challenge as I’ve been at it for years now and frankly the fact that I didn’t finish it ages ago is embarrassing. I also want to get all of the travel based items on my bucket list out of the way so that I can concentrate on getting my own house / flat which will be incredibly expensive but now that I have a well paying job it should be doable. Bon voyage 2022, not a bad old year.  

[nightfall-kachiniko]

How about mikasa with a Pregnant s/o? I hope you get better btw!

Ah thank you anon! I hope I do aswell! And I love mother kasa concept! :D

『Mikasa with a pregnant s/o』

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[ MAJOR! AOT SPOILERS UP AHEAD! ]

THIS CONTIANS MAJOR SPOILERS REGARDING TO 139 AND CHAPTER 138

- after you guys left the survey corps,she practically BEGGED you both to be parents. And all thought you wanted to, you wanted to spend some years alone with her.

- Ever since Eren passed away, your girlfriend never smiled the way she used to. But that all changed when you told her you were pregnant with a baby girl. This woman bursted into tears smiling a smile you hadn’t seen in a while. She picked you up and spun you around the room kissing you as you to began to cry tears of joy.

- You told her you were pregnant with a small version of her scarf, hinting at it. And as soon as she got it, she looked at you shocked, making sure you were serious, “d-darling are you serious..?” She said a small smile on her face. She looked at the small scarf and the baby clothes that laid in the box that you gave her as a gift, twirling around the outfit examining it.

-you gave her a soft nodd as you wiped away a tear, “Your going to be a mommy” you said with a smile. She put down the baby clothes and looked at you, still in shock. “Your not joking R-right!?” She said a bit more happier. “No I’m serious!” You said, beaming with a smile.

-she scoffed a bit as tears began falling down her face. Mikasa smiled as she picked you up, twirling you around, while crying tears of pure happily ness and joy. “T-this is all I’ve ever wanted” She said, kissing you while wiping away the both of yours tears.

- Throughout your whole pregnancy, all she would do would show you support in every way possible. She may be a bit over baring at time but this woman just wants to insure that your safe and well token care of. If you try to even pick up something, she’s scolding you, saying its dangerous and what if you fall or trip? All you’ll hear is, “y/n! Be careful dear! Let me take care of that.”

-Oh you best believe she gives you baths. One wrong move and you could get hurt, to her at least. Mommas wants to take care of youuuu ૮₍˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶₎ა! Plus, if you think she’s overprotective then, SHEESH BUDDY YOUR IN FOR A RIDE DURING AND AFTER PREGNANCY.

- This woman goes out her way to make sure you and the baby are safe. She doesn’t like you going out into town since a ton of people would crowd there and god for bid if someone knocks into you.. Let’s just say they are gonna get beat to the ground.

- For names, i think she’d like something unique, mystical even. I think she’d like something like a word that means a unique feeling, like the word Heriath; Homesickness for a home you can’t return to, or that never was. That’s my OC’S kid with her’s name anyways lol. Lacuna, Moira, jouska and others i think she’d like! You suggested if it was a boy that you wouldn’t mind naming the baby after Eren. She turned to you and smiled saying that she loved the idea of that, but, she couldn’t call him that without bursting into tears. You understood completely and was accepting of that aswell : D

— AND BOY OH BOY WHEN YOU WERE IN LABOR- Mikasa tried her best to stay calm. You both decided earlier on to have an at home birth with (just in case) a widwife to make sure you were okay. She held your hand and hugged you as you gasped for air, pushing as hard as you could. Mika would tell you things like “It’s okay baby.. your doing such a good job..” hike holding your hand, reassuring that you would be okay.

- When the baby came out, all you both could do was cry. I’d say if its a girl, she’d look more like mikasa with black hair and her Asian eye shape with your eye color. But if it was a boy, they’d look more like you with mikasa’s eye shape and mouth shape.

- She knows how sentimental of a moment you both as parents were experiencing, so she made sure you as the one who gave birth should hold the baby first. She kissed your head as you held the baby, caressing your hair.

- when mikasa held the baby, the first thing she did was wrap the baby in her red scarf. After Eren died, she turned the meaning of the scarf around. Eren showed her how to live, so she made a promise to show you how to live. And now that she has a baby, another piece of family, she vowed over her life to keep the both of you safe and sound.

- Her first words to your both’s baby was “I will always protect you, I promise you, over my life” She was so happy to be a mother. After all the chaos, she was so happy to finally live peacefully with the person who she loves the most.

- She has SO MANY DAMN RULES FOR WHEN ANNIE AND ARMIN COME OVER LMAO- No holding the baby standing up. All sharp objects aren’t allowed on you when touching the baby. No turning into a titan or she’ll cut off your face (these mainly apply to Annie LMAO) But after a while she chilled down. Annie was allowed to hold the baby ofc ofc.... Under MIKASA’S supervision ÙnÚ.

— the day your baby first walked, mikasa Litteraly cried at how big they had gotten and you had to calm her down like “Mika! Chill they aren’t even 1 yet and your already acting like they are going off to join the military!”

- Oh and speaking of military, your baby’s not going into the military- Hell n o. Momma mika would lose her shit even at the thought of her baby going out into gunfire. So if you wanted a military baby, sorry its not happening with her kid.

- The baby’s first words were “Muma” which was when they were referring to you. Everything this child does makes her so emotional. Litteraly even if the baby just picks up a spoon she’s almost in tears. She a proud momma dont let her down >:3

- I think our both’s baby would call her a unique version of mom. Like they would call Mika “Ummie” or “ummuma” But sometimes they’d just call her “mommy” so your momma and she’s ummie and mommy. (Lmao you call mikasa mommy too dont lie ;)

-OMI- YOUR KID AND ANNIE AND ARMINS KID ARE LIKE BEST FRIENDS. Your baby loves when they come over so they can see armin and Annie’s kid :D! AND OML- YOUR BABY LIKE LOVES ANNIE- She calls her “auntie awnnie” and always likes pulling at her bun while mikasa just stands and watches from the kitchen, eyeing annie down making sure she ant gonna touch her bby 😤

- Your child LOVESSSS Annie’s titan roar and everytime she comes over, they beg for annie to turn into a titan and do the roar. All you’ll hear is, “awuntiie awmmie! Titan! Titan!! 🥺” While annie rolls her eye with a small “fine” As she goes outside and transforms into her titan, roaring while your chid giggles. MIKASA HATES IT SO DAMN MUCH- SHE’LL ALWAYS SAY “You better be careful or I’ll kill you”

- of course, over the years Mikasa lightened up to annie and they are now best friends, but she cant help it... Over protective strong momma. but she wont allow armin to do it since his titans to big and dangerous ad trust me armin completely understands.

- Overall, she’s such a good momma. Always caring for you and her baby, making sure you both are safe and okay. She wouldn’t ever wish for a different life when she’s with you, and the sweet little one you two made <3

BRO THIS WAS SO LONG TO WRITE -

[mings]

Some context...

...in relation to that last post. This is a lo-o-o-o-ong read, so feel free to skip right by if catharsis bores you.

This starts way before I joined tumblr; in fact, long before tumblr was even a thing.

Twenty years ago, we lived in a huge house backing onto the English Channel. We moved there from Scotland, which turned out to be (probably) the biggest mistake of my life. 

Within nine months of buying the place, the company I’d moved to work for nearly folded. I and most of the workforce were made redundant. That set in motion an existential battle with our mortgage insurer, which refused to pay out because I “must have known” when taking out the insurance. (I didn’t, and they eventually caved in after destroying my credit record, but that’s another story.)

Work wasn’t immediately available; none that would at least cover the bills. We got inventive, wrote a business plan, obtained finance & bought a franchise. It went pretty well for the first three years, but we had to bust a gut to make the required income. It wasn’t easy. Eventually, the franchise operator messed up relations with several key players in our insurance market. Within three months, we lost 75% of our revenue. I had to close the workshop & find part time work to make ends meet. Ultimately, we decided to close the business, sell the house and downsize to something more manageable.

What’s the relevance of this? We tried hard to keep our precarious financial state form the kids. Maybe we didn’t do as well as we thought. Our son had already become withdrawn. He’d fallen in with a group of local lads about whom we had grave misgivings. Of course, there was no discussing it. We were “over-reacting” and unreasonable. It was around that time that he decided to jack in his education. I couldn’t criticise; I’d done the same. I pulled some strings and got him a job at our local Royal Mail delivery office.

We moved to our new place. It was a stressful move. Trying to fit into a house that was literally half the size was never going to be an easy task. One afternoon, our son came home from work and soon after announced he was going out. “See you later.” Only we didn’t. He didn’t come home that night. Nor did he turn up for work the next day. Nor the day after. And nor the day after that. Within a week he was written up for unauthorised absence. We had no way of contacting him. His case was heard in the following weeks. I could offer no mitigation. He was sacked for abandonment of duty. That tag that means he’ll never work for them again. 

We still had no idea where he was. We only knew he was alive because we met a couple of his friends who couldn’t believe he’d not been in touch. Still no word. My wife was in shreds; I suspect any of you who are parents can identify with that. I was alternating between trying to prop her up and stay on top of my job, all the while under a constant barrage of barracking (Oh, we don’t mean anything by it, it’s just banter....)

About three months in I’d had enough. Sleep was a scarce resource so I rose at the crack of dawn and started on a trip, rousting one after another of the friends and acquaintances that I knew, following leads until finally I tracked him down to a sordid bedsit several towns and 40 miles away. At least he answered the door and looked sheepish. He offered no explanation or apology, and has never done so to date. He refused to come back home, but promised to keep in touch. 

We know he bounced from one sofa to another in the next few months. He spent time in some of the worst areas in the county for drug abuse. He fell into a relationship with a girl that looked promising initially and subsequently fell apart. Later, he surfaced in another town with another girl whom he subsequently married. She often spoke of his irascible temperament and moods. Ultimately the marriage was doomed; she was younger than him, found a new interest and moved out. One wonders now how much of that was her and how much she’d put up with before voting with her feet.

He’s stumbled from one financial crisis to another. Money just evaporates. It’s as though adulting is a mystery beyond his reach. I’ve lost count of the times that we’ve thrown money at him and I don’t want to even think about how much. It’s literally thousands, always a loan, yet he never, ever pays back.

He left his job. That was inevitable too; he worked for his ex-father-in-law’s company. Heaven only knows how long the writing was on the wall; it was pretty swift once she left. He drifted again. He chose to live in a squalid flat with no heating rather than move back with us. Absolutely his choice, not ours. 

We moved to Scotland. That meant all his stuff had to go into storage. Quick rewind - he moved all his stuff to ours when he gave up the house he & his ex lived in, but refused to move back home. I had to rent a storage unit to make space for all his gear & when we moved I shifted all his gear into the store, gave him the key & told him I’d paid three months up front; after that it was his to deal with. Apparently, he surrendered the store and moved all his gear into the flat...

Fast forward to a couple of months back. He’d run out of options at the flat. His flatmate was “really difficult” to live with. His ex had moved away, taking their son with her. He had nothing left to stay for and, surprise, he’d lost his job again so he couldn’t afford the rent. 

My wife convinced me we should give him one last shot, citing his fragile mental health. I agreed on the strict understanding that we are simply no longer in a position to support him. He assured us he’d be applying for work as soon as he got here. We rarely see him before midday...

We agreed the end of the first week in March. We knew he’d arrive with a ton of stuff so we had (again) to create space. That’s infinitely more difficult now we’re running a B&B, but we set to the task. Suddenly, two weeks sooner than we’d agreed, he rented a van and was on his way. No discussion, no warning. We only found out because he put something on FB. 

Finally, after trying to reach him most of the day, he phoned. Whilst we should have been relieved, instead we were treated to a barrage of abuse because all the petrol stations were shut. Of course they were. It was in a national lockdown and why would they stay open when there was no one on the roads? JFC, who embarks on a journey in sub-zero temperatures across some of the most inhospitable country in the UK without enough fuel? With a six year old child. Yes, not only did he forget to tell us about his change of plans, he forgot to tell us he was bringing his son too.

We drove south through the night for two hours to find him somewhere in the Cairngorms where he’d run out of fuel. No fuel meant no heaters at 1500 feet in deep snow. The ambient temperature was -5ºC/23ºF & with wind chill that was probably around -10ºC/14ºF. We found him & refuelled his van. No thanks, just another barrage of abuse, because he was tired. We took his son into our car & drove the two hours back in near silence. I think we knew then that it was an awful predictor of what was to come.

We’ve had row after row. He accused me of being passive-aggressive in the last. He actually ticks all the boxes for passive-aggressive behaviour. I’ve never been tagged with that before; if anything I’m too forthright, blunt even. That’s a failing to which I will admit. If by that he meant that I don’t talk about the elephant in the room, it’s only because we fear it’ll lead to another explosion.

He never saw the damage that we sustained during our fostering years. He was never there. Yet here we are, experiencing flashbacks to those traumatic incidents; the parallels are exact. We have the benefit of years of training. We recognise manipulative behaviour when we see it - we were trained by some of the nations best exponents - and we know divisive tactics implicitly.  What he doesn’t know is that he will succeed only in pushing us closer together and alienating himself even further.

There are clear and well-documented links between cannabis and mental health issues. He is allowing the drug to determine his life choices. Although I may be wrong, I think he’s cultivating skunk, which is nothing like the weed that circulated in my youth. The smell that pervades our hallway is instantly evocative of high strength Afghan resin. It’s also going to be acutely difficult to eradicate before we’re due to open.

We’ve endured 20 years of this treatment. I know that even if we have a ritual burning, it will only be a matter of time before we’re back here again. We’re old. We’re tired. And we’ve worked our socks off (and still do) to achieve what we have. Maybe somewhere along the way we missed something. But I’m at a stage where I’m so far beyond this I just want it to stop.

[uvobreakmylegs]

Mountain Maiden

Anonymous requested a fantasy Shizuku fic. I took that to mean fantasy creature so I hope that was correct

sorry for the delay on this one, it took a lot of rewrites before I got to a place where I was happy with it

huldra!Shizuku

Warnings: blood, graphic depictions of violence, graphic imagery, gore, kidnapping

It was a nice day out, and since it was also your day off and you found yourself feeling a bit more adventurous, you had decided to take a mid-afternoon walk near the base of Mount Hulderheim. The walkway in the woods was surprisingly empty; you would have thought more people would have had the same idea of taking a walk on a day as nice as this one. Not that you could complain. It was nice to feel like you had the walkway to yourself.

At a certain point you took a break, sitting to the side of the path on a battered bench still covered in leaves and leaning your head back to watch the sky through the tree branches. As you sat there for a few minutes, and a peaceful silence surrounded the area, only interrupted by leaves as they were pushed around by a slight breeze.

A metal snapping sound and a soft yelp echoed through the forest and caught your attention, making you immediately stand up as you looked for the source of the sounds. They had come from further in the woods, beyond the small metal fencing that blocked off the areas that were too close to the mountain.

Unsure of what exactly those noises meant, you left the path and climbed over the small fence, ignoring the signs marked “do not enter” and those warning of falling rocks. You weren't normally one to ignore literal warning signs concerning the large mountain that overlooked the town where you lived, especially with how many from the sheriff's department warned about the dangers and the hefty fines that would come if you were caught, but you were certain that the yell you had heard had been human, and you needed to make sure that they were alright.

Weaving around numerous trees, you spotted a human shape in a nearby clearing. Though their back was turned to you, it looked like a woman. With short black hair and a long-sleeved black shirt, she was sitting in the clearing, focused on her leg that was bent in front of her. She heard when you approached, snapping her head back to face you, brown eyes staring at you through a pair of glasses.

“Are you alri- oh my god!”

You stumbled over your words as you realized that her foot had been caught in a bear trap, and she was currently trying to free herself by pulling on the metal jaws that held her. From where you stood, you could see some blood staining her jeans as well.

Doing your best to stay calm, you rushed over and knelt beside to her, your shaking hands pulled her surprisingly steady ones away from the jaws as you informed her “you can't get out of it that way, okay? We need to push down on the sides.”

You pointed to the large springs on either side of the trap.

“If we push down on those, it'll open.”

Looking at where you had pointed, the woman slowly nodded, her hands moving to the spring that was situated closest to her while you moved to the other one. She hadn't said anything yet, and you wondered if she was in shock.

The two of you pushed down on the springs, and slowly, the jaws opened, both of pushing until it had opened enough that she could slip her foot out.

“Wait a sec before you let-”

Before you could finish your sentence she had already let go, and without her weight on the spring, your strength wasn't enough to keep the jaws open and they snapped back shut with a loud clamor that rang through the forest, and this time you were the one who yelped as you instinctively jumped away.

Your heartbeat was loud in your ears, and you were certain you had just lost years off of your life.

“..... Sorry.”

The woman's soft voice brought you back, and you tried to calm yourself as she sheepishly looked down at the trap, seemingly realizing her mistake.

You shook your head.

“Don't worry about it. Let me see your leg, okay?”

She had been holding the area where the jaws of the trap had pierced her skin, and reluctantly pulled her hands away when you went over to inspect it, pulling up her pant leg as delicately as you could.

“The cuts don't seem too deep,” you said, “but I don't know how clean that trap is, so they might be infected.”

Pulling out a small pocketknife that you kept for emergencies, you cut a jagged strip off of the bottom of your shirt. The woman watched in silence as you wrapped the piece of cloth around her wound, pulling it tight to try and stop the bleeding. You instructed her to apply pressure around the wound, which she also did silently.

“There isn't much of a signal this close to the mountain, so I'm going to leave for a little so I can call an ambulance,” you said, “then we'll get you to a hospital and they should-”

“No.”

She interrupted you, and you blanked for a bit as you tried to recollect your thoughts, adrenaline still messing with your way of thinking.

“No?” you repeated.

“No ambulance. No hospital,” she said, then added “if you call them I'll leave.”

You weren't sure how to respond. There was no way you could just leave her like this; that wound needed more than your makeshift first aid, and you'd blame yourself for the rest of your life if she left while you were calling an ambulance and ended up needing an amputation or even dying because of an infection. Granted those were the absolute worst-case scenarios, but there was still a possibility it could get to that point.

She must have had a good reason for why she wouldn't go to a hospital. And even though you wanted to push her to go anyway, it would be better to try and work with her.

Taking in a deep breath to try and calm yourself further, you nodded at her.

“Okay. I won't involve a hospital,” you said, “but I'm not leaving you here like this. Will you come with me, and I'll fix you up at my house?

“I promise, no hospitals,” you added when the look in her eyes turned dubious, “I'm just worried, okay? This could turn into something really bad if we just leave it alone.”

She was quiet again, silently regarding you before turning her gaze to her wounded leg, her hands still wrapped around the fabric of your shirt that was slowly filling up with blood.

“Alright,” she said finally, “as long as that's all you're going to do.”

With a deep sigh of relief, you went to the side of her injury, her arm over your shoulder and yours around her waist as lifted her up, telling her to not put any weight on her foot as you began to lead her out of the clearing.

She had tensed slightly when your arm brushed against her back, but you barely noted it, putting all your focus into getting her out of those woods.

“If I check that again and I find that it's infected, I'm taking you to a doctor whether you want to or not,” you said to her, pointing to her newly bandaged leg.

“I think it'll be fine,” she said, “you seemed to know what you were doing.”

“Googling instructions on how to take care of an injury doesn't mean I know what I'm doing,” you answered, sighing as you began to put away the first aid kit. After frantically driving back to your home and getting her inside, you'd spent a good while looking up how to properly clean a wound and then how to bandage it, trying to hold yourself together whenever you felt like you had made a mistake. Now you were exhausted and you wanted nothing more than to collapse on your bed and pass out. But with your unexpected guest still being around and your obligation to make sure she got home safe, you probably wouldn't be doing that any time soon.

The woman in question had remained calm throughout all of it, and she now sat on your couch in one of your skirts that you had given her when you'd insisted that she change out of her bloody jeans. She was currently playing with the hem of the skirt as she looked around your living room.

As you set the first aid kit back on its shelf in the cabinet, a chill ran through you and you realized that you had yet to change out of your ruined shirt.

“I'll be back in a second. I need to change,” you called out to her. She responded with a short “okay” as you went off to your bedroom.

Maybe she was a bit too nonchalant about the whole situation. If it had been you who had gotten a foot in a bear trap, there probably would have been a lot more crying on your part. Then again, people processed trauma in different ways; maybe she was just someone who internalized everything.

At least for now it was over, and as you pulled a clean shirt over your head, you hoped you had done a good enough job on patching her up.

Tossing your old shirt into the trash bin as you passed by the kitchen, she was in the same spot you had left her, her eyes going back to you when she noticed your form in the doorway.

A thought then occurred to you.

“What's your name?” you asked.

“Shizuku. And yours?”

You answered with your name, and then asked her “you want something to drink? I've got soda.”

“Okay.”

After getting two cans out of the fridge and handing one to her, you sat down on the couch as well, taking a long swig out of the drink as you sank into the cushions. Shizuku sipped at her drink quietly.

“So I won't ask about the hospital thing,” you began, “but what were you doing in that area? People aren't supposed to go into that part of the forest.”

Shizuku shrugged.

“Just wandering, I guess. I didn't think anyone would put traps there.”

“That's probably something that should be reported,” you said, “but I'm not sure if we can do that without outing you for going in there.”

“Would it really be that bad?” she asked.

“The fines aren't worth it. That trail is usually pretty busy, so honestly, we're pretty lucky no one saw us.”

“Hmm.”

She took another sip at the soda while you looked back down at her leg.

“You're sure that everything feels okay with that?” you asked.

“Yeah,” she answered as she looked past you.

“Your flowers are dead.”

“Huh?”

Looking behind to where she pointed, you saw that the flowers you had set out a week ago were indeed dead, withered and dried out with the petals and bits of leaves that had fallen off surrounding the glass vase they sat in.

“Shoot. Let me clear that up,” you said as you got back up. Your body protested slightly after having gotten comfortable on the couch, but you forced yourself anyway, clearing up the mess and throwing the dead flowers into the trash.

“Will you need new ones?” Shizuku asked as you sat back down.

“At some point; I'm not going to worry about that now. Too exhausted,” you sighed.

Shizuku hummed, tapping her fingernails against the metal of the soda can.

“Seems like I've caused you a lot of problems. Sorry about that,” she said.

“What was I supposed to do? Leave you there?” you asked, “helping someone out of a situation like that is the natural thing to do.”

She hummed again, still staring at the can. Maybe it was just how tired you were, but there was a certain tone to her voice that made it seem like she didn't agree.

“Anyway,” you continued, “it'd be best if you didn't go back to that area. If someone's setting up traps like that, who knows what else could be there.”

“There have never been traps there before,” she said, “those are something recent.”

“.... How often are you jumping that fence to get to that area?” you asked.

She shrugged.

“A lot.”

“.... Don't you think you should stop doing that? With what happened today?”

“It'll be fine. I'll be careful from now on.”

She downed the rest of her drink while you looked at her in disbelief. Shizuku must have had nerves of steel to not even be concerned about those traps. Or maybe she just had a really, really poor sense of self-preservation.

Shizuku set the now empty can on the coffee table.

“It's starting to get late. I should get going.”

She was right that it was getting late; the sun was setting, leaving the sky in various shades of orange and pink as the dark of night began to creep in. Had that much time passed since you had found her?

“Give me a sec. I'll drive you.”

“No, you don't need to,” she said, “I'll walk.”

“Your leg-”

“It's fine. I can walk on it,” she interrupted, “this may sound strange, but it would be an issue if you saw where I lived, so I need to go back alone.”

….. She was right in that it sounded strange, and you really didn't feel right just letting her walk back by herself. But the way she was speaking now was similar to how she was when she refused to go to a hospital, and by now you had a sense that you wouldn't be able to change her mind if that was what she decided.

“As long as you're certain about that, then okay,” you told her, “but if you change your mind halfway, you can come back and I'll help you out, alright?”

“That won't be necessary; I'll make it back,” she answered.

You stood up after she did, the both of you making your way to your front door and you opening it for her. She thanked you with a little nod of her head as she stepped out into the evening air.

“I'll come back tomorrow to give your skirt back,” she said as she looked back to you.

“There's no rush; just focus on healing up.”

You said that, and yet as she walked away, she seemed to have no trouble at all with her leg. There was no way your patch-up job had been that good, so maybe her injury wasn't as bad as you thought it was.

But even if the situation hadn't been as dire as you'd first thought, you were still worried about her.

“Shizuku,” you called out just as she reached the sidewalk. She paused, turning to look to you.

“If you do need anything – if you get hurt again or something, you can come to me. I don't mind helping you out.”

She stood there silently for a moment, taking in your words.

Then, for the first time since meeting her that afternoon, her lips curled upward in a small smile.

“Okay.”

As she had told you, Shizuku was standing at your front door when you returned from work the next day. She was holding something, though you couldn't see what, and she seemed to look a bit lost as she stood in front of your home, looking about and trying to peer through windows before she spotted you coming towards her.

“Back already?” you asked jokingly, “how's the leg?”

“It's fine,” she answered, then she held out to you what she had been holding: the skirt you had lent her yesterday, and a small bouquet of flowers.

“I wanted to return this, but I couldn't quite remember if this was where you lived or not,” Shizuku said.

“You weren't waiting long, were you?” you asked as you took the skirt she held out, briefly noting the flowers that were set on top were less like a bouquet and more like she had hastily pulled whatever she could find out of the ground as a gift for you. You just hoped she didn't take them from one of your neighbor's gardens.

“Not too long. I was just nervous about knocking on the door in case it wasn't your house,” she admitted.

“I get that. You want to come in? I'll take a look at your bandages,” you said, unlocking the front door and motioning for her to come inside.

“Okay.”

She took the same place on the couch that she had taken yesterday, waiting patiently for you as you set up the flowers she had brought and grabbed the first-aid kit. Sitting down in front of her, you prepared for the worst as you began to undo the bandages you had wrapped yesterday.

When the bandages came off, you were surprised at how clean the wound was. There was some bruising, but the places where the teeth of the trap had broken through to the skin were healing nicely.

“It looks like it isn't infected, so that's a relief,” you said, “and you're walking around fine?”

“I heal fast,” Shizuku answered as you began to re-wrap her leg with the fresh bandages.

“I wish I healed fast like that,” you said, laughing a bit as you continued “there was one time when I was in elementary school, I fell of the playground and landed on my ankle wrong. It didn't break, but I was limping for weeks afterwards.”

Shizuku stayed quiet, watching as you finished up bandaging her.

“Did you grow up here?” she asked.

“No. I moved here for my job, ah, about a year ago?” you answered, “I think it's been about a year. How about you? How long have you lived here?”

“A while.”

“Just 'a while'?”

She shrugged.

“I guess it's been years. I don't pay much attention to how long it's been.”

“I see,” you said, closing up the first-aid kit.

“Since you've lived here longer, maybe you could tell me about some good spots in this town that I've missed.”

“I wouldn't know anything about that. I usually stay home,” she said.

“Except when you're hopping over fences to restricted areas?”

“Yeah, except when I'm doing that.”

You laughed again.

“After what I saw yesterday, I think I'll be avoiding that area.”

Your tone became a bit more serious as you continued, “and I still really think you should stop doing that since it's clearly not safe.”

“I'll be okay,” she said, “what happened yesterday won't happen again.”

Damn. You really weren't going to convince her on that.

“Alright, alright,” you said, raising your hands in defeat.

Standing back up to put away the kit, you glanced over to the flowers she had brought.

“I didn't mention it earlier, but thank you for the flowers,” you said to her, “they're really pretty.”

That shy smile formed on her face, and she nodded at you.

“So,” you said once you had put away the kit, “you want to get something to eat?”

“Okay.”

She left again at the end of the evening, and she asked if she could come back the next day. Of course, you had said yes.

It became routine for her to show up at your home after you had gotten off work, always managing to arrive just after you came back. Afternoons and evenings with her were nice, filled with conversation, though more often then not you were the one doing most of the talking. At first you had thought you might be rude, but after a bit you realized that she was happy enough to listen to you talk and interject when she found it appropriate.

The subject of her life situation still worried you, however. But you tried not to dwell on it or bring it up since she didn't seem to like that. Instead, you made it apparent that you were available to talk if she wanted to. With how little she emoted, it was hard to tell if she knew that without outright telling her, but you hoped the message got across.

Days passed by peacefully and her injury had healed to the point that she didn't need the bandages anymore. There were barely any scars left over, which had surprised you, but you were just happy that she really was doing okay. But as time went on, you noticed her behavior change ever so slightly. Like she was nervous about something, or like she wanted to mention something, but as always she never said anything, assuring you that everything was as it should be.

You didn't push her, and just hoped that if something really was wrong, she would open up to you about it on her own.

You were laying face down on a tall cliff, the grass soft against your face while the sun beat down on your back. Below in the distance, you could see the town, the buildings and houses all looking smaller than your fingernail from where you lay. Mount Hulderheim was a beautiful place, you mused. The town council didn't realize what they were missing out on by not allowing people up here. Although maybe that was for the best; if they were to see how nice it was, they'd probably want to set the place up as a tourist attraction and the peaceful atmosphere would be lost. Just as well they keep forbidding anyone from coming.

Closing your eyes, you were content to keep laying there and bask in the sunlight. It wasn't often that you had the opportunity to relax like this, and you were going to make the most of it.

Then you were jolted by the feeling of sharp claws digging into your back, and you looked behind to see that a crow had landed on you, the claws on its feet carelessly breaking through the fabric of your shirt and marking up your back. It tilted its head, blinking as it looked at you and observing you in the same way you were observing it.

“Get off,” you mumbled, not wanting to immediately go to aggressive means to get it to leave. Not only were those claws still sharp, its beak was large and could probably do a lot to injure you if you weren't careful.

It squawked at you, then jumped around your back for a bit, making you hiss in pain at the way those claws kept scratching your flesh. It moved to your shoulder and looked at your back, tilting its head again.

“Get off,” you repeated, your voice raising.

It ignored you this time, blinking several times as it looked down your back.

Then it began to peck at you.

You cried out, tears forming at the pain you felt as the crow pecked at your back over and over again. Then you moved to get up and swat the damn thing.

Or at least you would have, had you been able to move.

Your arms and legs refused to work, laying stiff and heavy on the ground. You were barely able to twitch your fingers, much less reach back and get the crow away from you. There was nothing you could do as the crow continued to peck at your now-exposed skin and began to pull it off in small pieces.

Your shirt quickly became stained red with blood as it went after your flesh, picking off bits of skin and throwing them to the side only to go back for more. The remains of your shirt were decimated, and it went down your back until it reached your hips, and then returned up on your other side, pecking and pulling off your skin until it was gone, a bright red hole from below your shoulder-blades down to your waist showing off the muscles of your back that glistened as they were exposed to the sunlight.

And then the crow began to do the same to the muscles.

You watched, your mind hopelessly blank while the pain shot up through you, tears streaming down your face. You tried to move again, you really did. But it was no use; your body remained paralyzed. Beams of sun still hit your body, the peaceful atmosphere on the mountain staying the same even while this was happening to you.

When the sinews were pulled off and it reached bone, you started to scream.

You cried out for help. For someone, anyone, to save you.

But no one came. And as you looked back to your town, you could vaguely see the movements of the people there, so far away and unable to help you, completely oblivious to how you were being slowly picked to pieces.

A curtain of blood fell from the hole in your back and down your sides as you were surrounded by piles of skin, muscles, sinews and now pieces of your own spine and ribs, the bones breaking off from each other with sickening snaps before they were tossed aside like garbage.

Your voice grew hoarse and you couldn't keep screaming, accepting defeat and watching as the crow continued to work. How were you still conscious for this? How were you even still alive?

Your organs, intestines and whatever remained of your rib cage were all pulled out, joining the bloody piles by your sides. Finally, the crow stopped, perching on the edge of the hole it had created within you and twitching its head as though congratulating itself on a job well done.

Those black beady eyes looked back at you, for the first time since it started, opened its beak-

And a stream of black liquid began to fall out.

Like the faucet of a sink, the stream of the tar-like substance was steady and unending, falling from the beak of the crow and landing on and inside of you, slowly taking over the outside of your body as it filled up the hole that had just been created.

It began to engulf your shoulders, and then your neck, and then you were straining your head as best you could as the tar expanded. As you took one last gasp of breath, it took over your head completely, and when you were no longer able to hold your breath, you began to suffocate.

You woke with a start, drenched in sweat and you sat up in bed as your heart was pounding in your chest. One of your hands instantly went underneath your shirt to feel your back. What met you was the expanse of your own skin. No blood, no wounds from the beak of a crow, no massive gaping hole or an empty space where your insides should have been. You sighed in relief.

God what a fucked up dream.

You fell back onto the bed with a thump, a hand over your head as you tried to calm yourself down. It was a dream. Just a dream.

An incredibly messed-up dream which felt so real that your brain had been convinced that it was actually happening. That you really were up on that mountain getting your insides pecked out by a crow.

Anxiety swelled in you and you once again put a hand behind your back, checking once more just to make sure. Again, your skin was unmarred, and the muscles and bones beneath it were in the exact spots that they were supposed to be, confirming that it was, in fact, only a dream. Even if it felt more real than any other dream you'd ever had, there wasn't more to it than that.

Didn't mean you'd be getting back to sleep, though. You tossed and turned in your bed, but the images from your dream stayed in your mind even as you tried to will them away. At a certain point you'd needed to turn the light on because there were too many instances of you looking around your dark room and scaring yourself when you thought certain spots looked like the black tar that had engulfed you at the end.

No, you definitely wouldn't be getting back to sleep tonight.

Sitting up in bed, you pulled out your laptop and mindlessly browsed the internet, trying to find whatever distraction you could to take your mind off of that awful dream.

When daylight came and you took a look at yourself in the bathroom mirror, you were taken aback by how much you looked like literal death. You could only remember one other instance of you looking this bad, one time several years ago when you had gotten incredibly sick.

Not wanting to worry your coworkers and still feeling tired from your lack of sleep, you called in sick to your work, and your new plan for the day was to try and relax as best you could and recover. And probably avoid going outside as much as possible so there was little chance you would need to interact with people. Right now you just really wanted to be by yourself.

But when Shizuku dropped by unexpectedly later on, you let her in without any hesitation.

“You don't look very good,” she commented after a few minutes of being there.

“I had a messed up dream,” you said.

“What happened?”

“I don't want to talk about it; it's gross,” you answered.

Shizuku hummed a reply, but didn't push you further. When you asked if she wanted to watch a movie she nodded, staying as her typical quiet self.

Hours went by as you spent time with her, watching tv or having discussions on whatever topics your brain could come up with. Anything to distract yourself.

It was evening when the alcohol had been brought out, but you couldn't remember how or why you decided to try and get drunk.

“I didn't think you were the kind to drink,” Shizuku said.

“I don't, usually. I just feel like it tonight. But you don't have to drink if you don't want to.”

“I don't mind. But I'm just not sure if that's what you should be doing right now.”

You laughed a little as you assured her “it'll be fine. Once in a while doesn't hurt.”

The evening continued, and neither of you were drinking all that much, just little sips here and there. Eventually, she asked you again about your nightmare, and this time you told her. Only a little bit, but just mentioning any of it had you feeling sick again. As expected, Shizuku didn't seem to have much of a reaction after you told her.

“That's scary,” she said.

“Yeah, it was. And all I want right now is to forget about it.”

“That's understandable.”

It was hard to tell where the turning point was, but soon you began to feel more inebriated than you were anticipating. Your speech was getting a bit more slurred, your movements sluggish and your thoughts muddy. Shizuku seemed fine, though, and she seemed to be matching every drink you had taken. You should have stopped at that point. A small voice of reason was telling you to stop before you did something stupid, but it was fun just sitting there and talking with Shizuku like you two were the only people in the world.

You should have stopped. But you didn't.

“Your necklace... That's a Saint Peter's cross, right?” you asked, leaning in closer to her. You had seen that necklace dozens of times by now, but for whatever reason, it fascinated you.

“Yeah,” she answered.

You thought it looked like it was made of gold. But that seemed unlikely. It was probably some other metal just made to look gold.

“What's it made of?”

“Not sure.”

Her voice sounded close. Maybe a bit too close.

You looked up and found that your face was inches away from hers, having lost yourself while thinking about her necklace and leaning in further than would have ever been necessary without even realizing it.

Embarrassment hit you hard when you noticed that the cross was situated right at her chest and you'd just been staring right in that area and oh God she probably thought you were a pervert with the way you'd been staring.

Bits of words began to fall from your mouth as you tried to pull back, and just that action gave you some difficulty as your body's movements were still sluggish.

God you were such an idiot and now Shizuku wasn't going to like you and-

A hand at the back of your head pulled you forward and you found your lips pressed against hers.

The action left you stunned, and you remained frozen when she pulled away. She looked as she normally did, but there was a slight flush to her face, and when you made eye contact, she smiled at you. That small smile she would only give on occasion, and in that moment you realized how much you loved seeing it.

You pulled her into a kiss that time, your hands delicately cupping her face while she placed hers on your sides. She smelled like pine and tree bark, your addled brain was able to note.

The two of you moved slow; you kept your touches feather light as your hands trailed down her neck and onto her shoulders. Her grip was slightly firmer than yours but stayed on your sides, her fingers rubbing your skin through your shirt.

This moment felt so good and sweet and warm and you loved Shizuku so much and you didn't even care that your blinds were still open and the neighbors could probably see inside you didn't care and you wanted more.

Your tongue slipped out, pressing against her lips to entice her to do the same as your arms moved to circle around her back-

She pushed you away suddenly, breaking the kiss and holding you at arms length.

Fuck fuck fuck you messed up. You did something wrong and now Shizuku didn't like you.

“Sorrysorrysorrysorrysorry,” you repeated again and again, once more trying to pull yourself away and save yourself from any further embarrassment.

“Wasn't trying to make you mad-”

“I'm not mad.”

Shizuku's calm voice quieted you. Her face was still flushed but she seemed as normal as ever.

“I'm not mad. It's just....” she trailed off, looking at the half-full glasses on the coffee table, “I don't think either of us can make good decisions right now.”

She turned you so your back was facing her, and she pulled you back so you were held against her chest. Your nerves calmed as you relaxed against her, reaching up to grasp one of the hands that held you.

She was mumbling something. Something about not having any time left and needing to go back. Your dream was a sign and you'd need to go with her. You didn't understand any of it, but just hearing her voice was comforting and made you feel safe, so you ignored it.

You fell asleep like that, laying against Shizuku and her arms wrapped around you.

The sun was beating down on your form as you sat on the edge of a cliff, once more looking down at the town from a distance.

It was a dream again, you realized. It had to be. You wouldn't come up here because it wasn't allowed, nor did you remember making any journey up the mountainside. So it was a dream, and you desperately wanted to wake up before a repeat of the last one could happen.

You shut your eyes tight and then opened them. Once. Twice, and a dozen more times, but the imagery in front of you stayed the same, and you began to feel panicked as you heard the cawing of a crow in the distance. Trying to move from the spot where you were sitting proved useless, as you were once again paralyzed. This time you couldn't even move your neck, and you were forced to look forward as you heard the crow coming closer and closer.

“Please no,” you whispered, rapidly opening and shutting your eyes over and over, trying to force yourself awake as you heard it crying from right behind you. Anything but that again.

The cawing of the crow stopped suddenly.

A brief moment of silence passed, your fear and anticipation through the roof as you waited to feel that beak digging into you again.

Two small feminine hands appeared from your periphery and covered your eyes.

“It's all right,” a voice whispered in your ear.

“Shizuku?” you asked. You tried once again to look behind, but your neck stayed stiff.

“It's all right,” she repeated.

A gust of wind blew past the two of you, coming from the side and making a mess of your hair. It caused a chill to run through you, your whole body rattling as the cold wind struck you from the inside, moving through the hole in your exposed back that you hadn't realized was already there.

The first thing you were aware of was the fact that you had a slight headache. Probably a hangover that would take you a few hours to recover from while you cursed yourself for being so stupid as to drink to that point. The second thing that came to mind was the scent of earth that surrounded you. Far more woodsy than that of your room, and definitely not normal.

As you slowly opened your eyes, your slight confusion turned into a mild panic: this wasn't your room, not even close.

You had been placed on a bed that seemed to have been built into the wall, a small wooden niche within a room where the walls looked as though they were a collection of surprisingly massive tree roots. Books and various pieces of clothing were scattered throughout the room amongst the wooden furniture, making the area quite cluttered. There were no windows, but you spotted a stairway that had been carved into the roots, the wooden steps leading upwards.

Ignoring your headache, you jumped to your feet, speed-walking through the room while you stepped around mess, trying not to trip. You tried your best to stay calm; something was obviously very, very wrong for you to wake up in such a strange place, but freaking out wouldn't help anything. Right now, you just needed to figure out where you were and go from there. Thinking back to what you remembered last didn't help much – Shizuku had come by, you were certain, but nothing else beyond that. Had you been kidnapped? Were you in danger? Was Shizuku safe? Or was she in the same situation as you?

You needed to find her and then get out of here.

Just as you'd made it to the first few steps, a searing pain ripped through your back, causing you to stumble and fall as you cried out. It felt like your back was on fire, rippling up and down your spine and eating into your muscles, leaving you sweating and like you were about to throw up. You grasped at the edge of a step, unable to do much else as the pain continued.

“You shouldn't get up.”

A voice above you spoke, and you looked up to find Shizuku standing on the upper steps, a medium-sized wooden bucket resting against her hip as she stared down at you.

“Sh-Shizuku,” you breathed, “help... It hurts.....”

“I know.”

Shizuku walked the rest of the way down the stairs, setting the bucket down on the floor before she knelt next to you, pulling one of your arms off of the steps and slinging it around her neck, her other hand going down to hold you by your waist. She hoisted you up that way with little effort. Despite the burning sensation you felt, small “thank you”s left your lips as you held onto her, your legs trembling as you tried to gain a good footing on the stairs, eager for her to carry you up.

But instead of going up the stairs, Shizuku turned both of you around and began to lead you back to the bed.

“W-wait! Shizuku, we need to leave!” you protested.

“Why?”

“What do you mean, 'why'? Someone kidnapped us! We need to figure out where we are and get help!”

“We don't need to do that,” Shizuku answered as she set you back on the bed. You let out a small hiss of pain as she did so, supporting yourself on shaking arms as she stood before you.

“We're on the mountain,” she told you, “and no one kidnapped us. I brought you here. This is my home.”

“..... What? What are you talking about? Why would you do this?” you asked, bewildered.

“Hmm. I think it'll be easier if I just show you.”

With her hands gripping the hem of her shirt, Shizuku turned her back to you and lifted the fabric up until it reached her shoulder-blades.

At that moment, the only thing that could be heard in that room was your labored breathing that only increased when you registered what you were seeing.

A hole.

There was an honest-to-God hole in the middle of her back.

The jagged edges resembled that of tree bark, brown and cracked and a clear roughness to it before it smoothed out into human skin. The edges stuck out slightly as well, peeling outward as though something had at one point busted through, leaving this as the unfortunate aftermath. But within the hole was nothing; no bones, no muscle, no organs or anything, just a smooth, empty space within her that looked like a hollowed out tree.

You couldn't get any words out. It made no sense. There was no way that Shizuku could be alive in the way she was, missing so many vital organs and even her spine, no one could be alive after losing all of that.

But the woman who turned her head to look back at you was definitely living, and even breathing despite her lack of lungs.

“See?”

She tilted her head at you in that way you had grown to love, and you found yourself trying to focus on that instead of the impossible situation that stood before you.

“.... I don't understand,” you finally whispered.

“I don't either, really,” Shizuku admitted with a sigh, pulling down her shirt as she turned to face you.

“I think I've been here a long time, but I don't remember how I got here. I forgot,” she said, “I don't know why it happens, but it looks like any woman that stays on this mountain for too long ends up this way.

“That's probably why the town blocked it off,” she mused, “I don't think they know why it happens or what to do about it, so it's probably easier for them to just forbid access to try and keep anyone else ending up like me or the others.”

“Others?” you asked, still not fully understanding what she was saying.

“Yeah. There used to be others up here, but it's just me now,” Shizuku explained.

“Wh-where did they go?”

Shizuku shrugged.

“Not sure. Maybe they found a way to break the curse, or maybe they just died.”

For the first time since you awoke, you perked up, ignoring the possibility of the other women being dead and just focusing on the first part.

“We could try to find them, Shizuku. If we can talk to one of them, maybe we can figure it out, too.”

Shizuku's eyebrows furrowed.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“To break the curse, like you said! If we find one of them and they tell us how they did it, you won't have to be like this anymore. And then maybe the both of us could live together, you wouldn't have to be alone up here,” you insisted.

Her expression was blank as she stared at you wordlessly.

“I think you've misunderstood a few things,” she said after a moment.

“I don't know if it is possible to fix this; for all I know, those others are dead. But even if there was a way to change this, I wouldn't do it. I don't mind being this way. I like it up here. I think that's why the others didn't like me much: they wanted to leave and I was happy to stay here. And I thought I wouldn't mind when they all eventually left, but...”

She trailed off, sighing as she looked up in thought.

“The loneliness started to get to me,” she admitted, “you don't realize how much you need someone else with you until you're completely alone.”

Shizuku smiled shyly then, looking back at you.

“But now you're here. We can stay up here together.”

Your mind wanted to focus on the way she was smiling at you and how rare it was for her to show emotion like that. Anything that wasn't what you had seen and what she had said. But there was no way you could just go along with this like nothing was wrong.

“Shizuku,” you began, “I can't stay up here. I'm not like you.”

“Mm. And I think that's where you've misunderstood again,” she said, her small smile vanishing.

“I said it earlier: it happens to any woman who stays on the mountain. That pain you're feeling? That means it's started.”

She stepped to the side, grabbing a small hand mirror that had been sitting on a shelf before she sat down next to you. When she pulled your shirt up and over your head, you protested, but the words quickly died in your throat when you glanced at the mirror she had facing your back.

Your skin had hardened and cracked, outlined in pieces as though it was the bark of a tree, starting from the middle of your spine and spreading outward. The pain you had been experiencing was forgotten during Shizuku's explanation but reignited at the sight of that, the skin of your back burning and making you lurch forward, gripping the sheets as you were almost driven to tears. Shizuku held the mirror still, and when you looked back again you saw that the cracks had spread further.

“You should lay back down. It's a long process, and it's going to hurt,” Shizuku said, setting aside the mirror and gently pushing you until you were laying on your front. Unclipping your bra and pushing it out of the way, her hands lightly trailed down your spine, lingering near the middle, where the bits of skin had hardened completely and the edges were curling up, ready to break off.

She only left your side to retrieve the bucket she had left by the stairway, and after she had settled herself on the bed with you, Shizuku began to break the pieces off, tossing them into the bucket.

No blood came from your wounds, but you were in no state to think about that as you screamed against the mattress and Shizuku continued to pull the pieces off of you, what was once your skin resembling a pile of woodchips as they were thrown away.

Shizuku diligently worked, pausing once in a while to hold your hand, ruffle your hair, or to lean down and kiss you on the cheek as she reassured you that it would be okay.

By the time your bones were ready to be removed you had passed out.

[sunaswife]

A Suna Rintarou series

Suna was the best boyfriend you could ask for, after fighting with your inner demons that screamed you were ugly, worthless, and annoying. You finally decided to go the next step with your boyfriend, only to find out it was all a game.

A/N: PART 11! After that crappy wannabe smutty chapter I decided to give you some small Suna fluff 😌

Warnings: underaged drinking, smut, guys talking badly about women, heartbreak, messed up shit that you shouldn’t do and a bit of fluff if you squint

Disc six-slide one: You and I 🤍 🖤

“Babe you gotta be more careful.” You sighed and gently held his fingers as you put ointment on them. “I’m a middle blocker that’s my job.” He deadpanned and you looked up. “I know but I just worry ya know? I’m your girlfriend that’s my job.” Today there was a practice match against a college team and Suna hurt his pinky and ring finger pretty bad, he had to sit out for the rest of the game. He sighed and leaned forward to put his head on your shoulder. You heard a hiss and you quickly apologized. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to hurt you.” You told him. “Nah It’s fine.” He mumbled on your shoulder.

“Do you want any medicine?” You asked and he muttered a no. “Do you want cuddles?” You asked and he muttered an mhm. You kissed his cheek and wiped your hands on a towel. You moved on to the bandaids and you applied some on his fingers. You were being so gentle, Suna was about to fall asleep on your shoulder. “There all done.” You said and he moved back to look at his left hand. “Thanks princess. Feels better already. That ointment really works.” He said and you smiled. “One more thing.” You said and held on to his wrist. You lifted it up and kissed his knuckles. “There hopefully it’ll get better soon.” You said just to tease him. “God dammit why are you so FUCKING CUTE!” He said and pushed you down on his bed. His arms wrapped around you and he squeeze tight. “RIN I cAnT breath!” You squealed and he loosened his grip. “Jesus man.” You sigh and look up to see Rin already looking down. “I love you.” He said and you smiled. “I love you too you dork.” You replied and gave his lips a quick peck.

“It’s honestly so ridiculous how cute you are. Like what the fuck. You’re real and you’re mine.” He sighed in content and buried his face in your hair. The smell of your shampoo managed to calm his beating heart. “You’re always there and I appreciate it, a lot.” He murmured. “How long are your parents going to be out of town?” You asked. “They come back tomorrow night.” He replied. “Do you need me to stay with you so you can rest your hand?” You asked.

“You’d do that for me?” He asked suddenly and you nodded. “I don’t have clothes so I’ll steal some of yours but I don’t mind helping.” You told him and his grip tightened once again. “FUCK I have the cutest girlfriend EVER!” He said and made a ‘😫’ face.

“I could get used to this.” Suna said and you jumped a bit, startled. “Dude don’t scare me like that.” You said and turned. You were in his family’s kitchen looking around to try to make something to eat. You settled on something quick and simple that you’ll know he’ll like.

“Did you just call me dude?” He squinted and you turned back to the stove. “Yeah, sorry.” You chuckled and sturred the food in the pan. His arms slowly wrapped around your waist from behind and you couldn’t hide your smile. “Smells delicious.” He mumbled in your ear and you giggled. His voice sounded deeper than usual since he just woke up from his nap. “Here try it. I made enough so your parents can eat some tomorrow night when they come home. They’ll probably be tired from traveling.” You slightly turned and blew on the spoon that held your food, after a few seconds you expected Suna to blow on it too when you put it in front of his mouth but he didn’t and just took a bite. He didn’t hiss that it was hot so you were glad about that.

“Wow that’s really good.” He said with brows raised. Why is he so shocked? You make him lunch all the time. Should you feel offended? “Also i don’t know if they’ll get a chance to even eat it. I’m tempted to eat everything.” He joked, “Osamu, chill.” You joked and he pinched your skin above his shorts. You squeaked and laughed, “Dont say another dudes name when I’m being all baby-like with you. It makes me jealous.” He said and you rolled your eyes and turned off the stove. “You‘re a big baby.” You said softly and pushed some hair away from his face. “But I’m your big baby.” He said and followed you around the kitchen while you looked for plates to serve the food.

“Is this how it’s going to be like in the future?” You asked and he paused. “No i won’t be the only one following you around, we’ll have a dog and a kid...maybe two.” He said and you choked on air. “Already thinking about children? You’re bold.” You spoke up. “Well I mean. I love you a lot. And I know you love me a lot too. After highschool we can work our asses off and then get married and have kids. I don’t know. I never thought about it before until I met you. Now sometimes when I go to sleep I think about us growing old together and that makes me happy.” He said and saw as you grabbed your phone and started typing. He frowned and was about to ask why you were ignoring him and texting instead but then you had a satisfied smile and the speakers of your phone played an unfamiliar piano tune.

“Babe, are you the lost member of one direction?” You asked and he raised a brow. Before he could respond you shushed him and showed him the lyrics to They Don’t know about Us.

He actually liked the song and how mellow but catchy it was. You started singing softly along with the song and screamed the octave Zayn sang. He chuckled at your nature and tsked when you pointed to him in order to serenade him on the mine girl part.

When the song finished you took your phone and placed it on the counter. “So..what do you think? Wanna do that when we’re older?” He asked as you handed him his plate.

“I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

He felt butterflies in his stomach as you kissed his cheek and shooed him to the dining room.

Yeah he could definitely get used to this.

Previously

Up next

Masterlist

A/N: I need the first person who wants to help give me ideas for the sequel to dm me RIGHT NOW I’m in a spiral and I need help deciding lol and I don’t feel like flipping a coin AGAIN. The first one or two people to dm me will sadly receive spoilers of what’s to come between Suna and Y/N 😔 but if ur down to help me out then thank you!! If not then it’s okay 🥺

EDIT: I ALREADY HAVE THE ENDING AND SEQUEL READY PLZ STOP GIVING ME AMAZING IDEAS THAT I WANNA DO INSTEAD 🥺

🏷: @therealwalmartjesus @differentballooncollection @aaesuki @atsunflower @dope-squish @prettysetterboiss @june-phantom @tomo-uwu @austriasmariazelle @xrnia @katsulia @aprettyfruit @shut-your-eyes-kiss-me-goodbye @tvbiio @sun-daddy-yoriichi @kamenoyaki @ppangiiroo @loeyprivvv @kmskj92 @lovinnoya @tris-does-stuff @mokkeguts @sunaluvr6969 @bara-rose-would @sempiternal-amour @volleybloop @leykyuu @bokutoichigo @stfucanunot @iloveanime691 @tpwkatsumu @ohshirabu @shoutosimp @mqrinqcele @bokutosdivineass @anngelllla @toworuu

[wolf-zer0]

Ya want some WORLD-BUILDING????

Have some world-building!

*REMINDER* This is based on characters, not real people.  I’m not going to be writing any shipping/smut content, especially involving minors.  Please be respectful of content creators’ boundaries!

The Crystallos Empire (AKA the Antarctic Empire)

Largest the countries (takes up most of the southern half of the map) but agreed to stop expansion after a bloody battle with Valeriana 

Centered on a large snowy mountain in the middle of the tundra 

Mostly stays out of other countries’ business, but will step in as a last resort 

Has some of the most well-known citizens in the world because… they’re pure chaos 

Attack at your own peril 

Has vast deposits of ores and gemstones, and the metalwork from Crystallos (mainly weaponry, armor, and jewelry) is highly sought after 

The only known food export is potatoes.  Wonder why… 

Associated Colors: Royal blue, light blue, crimson, gold 

Aesthetic/Vibes: gothic vibes, white stone and large stain glass windows, not particularly opulent or extravagant but still impressively royal looking, think catholic cathedral but brighter and with less Jesus (can you tell I’m a recovering catholic yet?), spires shooting into the sky that’s visible even during a blizzard, cavernous halls full of sunlight and echoes, snow that can comfort and kill in equal measure

Notable Members:

Philza Minecraft:

Angel

Visible wings look like a harpy eagle

Probably the most powerful person in the world

Didn’t mean to start an empire it kinda just happened

Also didn’t mean to adopt kids but his Dadza alarm went off

Usually kind but will not hesitate to use violence when necessary

Technoblade: 

Is pig.  

With braid.  

At least 8 feet all

Extremely adept fighter, skilled in almost every form of combat.  

Not a people pig, prefers his potato farm to being a prince

Hella protective of his family but will not hesitate to bully when given the opportunity

Wilbur Soot: 

Muse who can influence people through song

Can’t totally control people (yet) but can subtly push them in a certain direction

The public face of the imperial family

Would rather insult than fight but can and will cut a bitch if he needs to

Because inspiration is fickle he’ll have some … strange episodes (see: the Sand Incident)

Tommy Innit: 

Child.  

Chaos incarnate.

Is he human?  Is he not?  No one’s sure yet.  

But he’s a gremlin and a hellion and willing to throw down at any moment.  

Has a surprisingly caring side, but no one outside his immediate circle has ever really seen it.  

The Kingdom of Valeriana (aka Dream SMP)

Oldest of the countries 

Located in the middle of a massive forest at the center of the main continent 

Home of the Fae Courts

Ruled by a single king who is chosen by a tournament held every 100 years 

Known for causing chaos in other countries, but after an Incident with Crystallos they have kept their meddling to annoyances rather than outright declarations of war 

Considered the most magical of all the countries, and traditional enchantments almost all come from Valeriana 

Associated Colors: neon green (duh), bright yellow, forest green, light brown, blood red (more saturated than Crystallos), rose gold 

Aesthetic/Vibes: spooky art nouveau (idk what else to call it), lots of plants and nature but with an edge of danger, poison gardens and carnivorous plants, hedge mazes that lead everywhere and nowhere, laughter deep in the forest, deer with eyes just a hair too human, Alice in Wonderland on steroids 

Notable Members: 

Dream: 

Current king of the Fae

As long as he’s touching the ground, he knows where everything and everyone is

Can terraform

Unlimited in the boundaries of his kingdom

Much more limited outside of his realm

No one has ever seen what he really looks like, even before he took the throne

Since people outside the kingdom don’t know who he is, he’ll wander the outside world and challenge random people to fights

Never says what happens to the losers

Only one person has ever beaten him: Technoblade

He might have a lil obsession around Techno, but it’s fine.  

A little competition is healthy.

Sapnap:  

High Lord of the Summer Court

Dream’s right hand man

Likes fire a little too much probably

George: 

Human that Dream took a liking too and yoinked from the mortal world

Dream and Sapnap made him immortal but he hasn’t realized it yet.  

Skeppy: 

Changeling who started growing diamond-like scales across his body

Is vaguely allied with Dream simply because he’s Fae, but is more loyal to BBH

Like a lot of other Fae, likes to make challenges but he makes them less deadly.  Not totally safe, just less deadly.

Badboyhalo: 

Demon who was kicked out of hell because he was too nice

Found Skeppy in the Overworld and the rest is history

Cursed by the Demon King that the moment he says a swear word, the entire world would end, but can never tell anyone that he is cursed

The Merchant’s Guild

Not quite a country, more of a international power 

Oversees the largest and most important businesses in the world 

Makes sure that no laws are broken between different countries and everyone gets a fair shake 

Has a very large reach, so some members have dabbled in espionage for various groups 

From the outside it looks like the whole thing is kept together with duct tape and hope, but its actually pretty functional

The main members are just… a lot. 

More concerned with keeping things working than influencing other nations (although there are still jokes about it) 

The most valuable thing they trade in is information

They have a lot of fingers in a lot of pots, but are trusted with their information 

Associated Colors: dark blue, teal, deep yellow, burnt orange, copper

Aesthetic/Vibes: art deco babie, angles and lines, very modern and streamlined, sleek suits instead of armor or robes, whiskey in a crystal glass, wars won by words not weapons, knowing when someone’s lying without them saying a word

Notable Members:

Schlatt: 

Ram-man with a plan

Not that bad of a dude, but is in a position where he is constantly in possession of highly sensitive information and that does things to someone’s mental state

Drinks pretty regularly but not a full blown alcoholic

Trying his best

Can be a snarky asshole sometimes

Quackity: 

Lucky duck.  literally.  

Duck man with an uncanny ability to absorb good luck from people (typically Fundy) and apply it to himself

No one knows when or why he joined the guild, but now he’s there

Pretty damn smart, but hides it behind humor

Fundy: 

FOX!  

With BEANS!

Trying his goddamn best but life (and Quackity) make it very difficult

Usually is stuck with the shit end of the stick when getting jobs/contracts/etc. 

Wilbur being his dad is an inside joke that’s gotten a life of its own.  

(No Fishfuckers Allowed!!!)

Puffy: 

Badass sheep lady who captains a ship and commands her own armada

Schlatt’s sister

Also part of Storm’s Landing’s council and acts as the main liaison between them 

Do not fuck with her she will kick your ass.

Storm’s Landing

Port city that became a country after becoming a safe-haven for seafarers

Led by a council of important people, with the head of the council known as the Admiral 

Closest ties to Crystallos and the Merchant’s guild because: 

1) Clingy supremacy!!!!

2) it’s a good idea for a guild to have good ties with a large sea power

3) all the dads for Tubbo

Associated Colors: navy blue, scarlet, white, brass 

Aesthetic/Vibes: Nautical (obviously) with heavy “Age of Exploration” vibes, barnacles crusted on treasure chests, think tall ships and pirates and shit, respecting the ocean because holy shit she’s gonna smash your boat to pieces on a whim because she can, has an edge of darkness because when you go deep enough who knows what you’ll find down there (maybe mermaids???) 

Notable Members:

CaptainSparklez: 

elected to Admiral after the previous Admiral went missing on a routine voyage 

(idk who it used to be, I just wanted to make him new at leading)

not 100% sure about the whole thing, but handling it pretty okay

still answers to “Captain” instead of “Admiral”.  

Niki:

If Storm’s Landing had a queen, would be it unquestionably

Never gets robbed even though there’s a well known “underbelly” in town

Could probably end wars with her croissants

Has a significant history of empathic abilities in her family, so she can tell how people are feeling at all times

Eret: 

Owns a magic store in town that really only shows itself to people who need it.  

Having a bad mental health day?  

He’s got a warm blanket and a cup of your favorite warm beverage waiting.  

Dysphoric?  

She’s got the perfect outfit and affirming words already prepared.  

Trying to find that specific book but can’t remember the title or plot, only vaguely know the color of the cover?  

They’ve got it.  

Ranboo:  

Not sure why he decided to move to a seaside city when he’s not chill with water, but now he’s here and he’s too anxious to leave

Known for teleporting around town randomly when nervous, and the people who find him are always willing to let a hand if he gets lost

Tubbo: 

This boi!  Has so many dads!  

Epitome of “Kindness does not equal weakness.”  

While a lot of people underestimate him, he’s not some fragile little flower

He hasn’t fully grown into his ability to speak to animals (he can only understand bees right now)

He’s just as much of a shit stirrer as Tommy.  

When they meet up, look out.  Something’s getting destroyed.

The Astral Academy

An independent university focused on advancing knowledge in the arcane arts and engineering 

Not a country, but has the political power of one due to their vast resources and building prowess 

People can’t enter unless they are invited or have been given entry as a student 

There are a bunch of potential doors scattered around the continent that could lead to the Academy, but no one is sure where the real entrance is 

Associated Colors: royal purple, lilac, sepia, sky blue, silver, bronze Aesthetic/Vibes: bright academia, massive libraries with bookshelves stuffed to bursting, workshop benches covered in scrap and prototypes, open air observatories, runes waiting to be translated, the crackling energy that comes from successful collaboration, falling down a research rabbit hole, bursting with pride after a project is a success

Notable Members: 

Sam

Purpled

Ponk

Punz

Antfrost

Jack Manifold

I don’t know much about these characters, so if you have any ideas please let me know!

Zero’s OC Land - The North Haven

Smallest and newest country 

Recently gained independence from under a cruel dictator (not schlatt lol)

Located in a pine forest at the base of a huge mountain range 

Has pretty good relations with the other countries, but outsiders don’t know much about them 

Main exports are wood carvings and leather goods 

Associated Colors: Maroon, dark brown, black, pewter 

Aesthetic/Vibes: medieval but with a modern twist, dark wood lit by a roaring fireplace, snow-covered woods without a living soul in sight, half timber houses and detailed wood carving, no outrageous ornamentation or extravagance 

Notable Members:

Tyr: 

Lord of the North Haven

trying to keep his people safe and protected

one of the few remaining Spirits (higher in power than the Fae, but lower than angels)

Spirit of Justice

lost a hand in the war for North Haven’s independence

didn’t want to become the leader but does a pretty good job at it

Adopted 5 kids and is trying his best

Bragi: 

Heir Apparent

24 year old human

can influence the world by speaking (not singing) but has to be careful about which words he uses

has a book full of phrases that have proven effects (a spellbook of sorts)

has a friendly rivalry with Wilbur

Freya: 

Spymaster

actually the oldest but abdicated because she feels she’s not the right person to lead a country

age unknown because she’s the last known [REDACTED] (it’ll be revealed, but I wanna build suspense)

has gyrfalcon wings and heightened senses

chronic insomniac

Forseti: 

Official Librarian

20 years old

hybrid with an unknown entity

has black fingers with sharp claws

always wears gloves to hide them

can create portals to places he’s been or to people he knows (the second is much riskier, but not impossible)

knowledge sponge

wants to join the Astral Academy but is too nervous to apply

Odin: 

Older Twin

The “Sensible One”

17 years old

Has an uncanny sense of direction

Can’t get lost no matter what

Can manipulate magnetic fields

Loki:

Younger Twin

The “Hot Headed One”

17 years old

can manipulate fire

idolizes his older siblings, particularly Freya

The Institute

Creeping around in the background

Up to bad things

Something’s going on in the world, but no one’s noticed yet

They will though… soon

Aesthetic/Vibes: minimalism (the worst kind of vibes imo), think laboratories or empty hospitals, harsh artificial lights and cold floors, labyrinths of monotonous hallways with no doors

[onelastbreath-writes]

I Spy

Pairing: Frankie “Catfish” Morales/Fem!Reader (AFAB, no y/n)

Word Count: 1.7K

Warnings: Brief mention of bad(abusive/manipulative) parents, general adult topics, swearing.

Summary: You meet a cute guy at a bar, you date, you fall in love, and oops, it turns out you’ve both been lying about your careers. Classified only stays classified until you get assigned a mission together. (SpecOps&Spies, with Young!Frankie)

A/N: Hey guys, I was bad and started another fic. Whoops. This one is for Triple Frontier because I love that soft boi Francisco. The flavour of this fic, the vibe if you will, is basically the spiderman pointing meme. I’ve vaguely set the timeline to like mid-2000s? so I’ll be trying my best to stay true to technology and aesthetic of the era. There was so much denim. Anyways, that means I’m trying to write for about a 27-33 year old Frankie and a similarly aged reader. I don’t see this series being more than a couple chapters at best, so it’ll be short and sweet. Also, like, very little angst if I can help it; I just want this one to be a good, cute, fun read. Hope y’all enjoy! Xoxo

[AO3][Masterlist]

“So, you’re coming out tonight, right? You’re not busy or anything?”

“Please don’t say it like that, you know how busy work actually is. And I’m a grown woman; if I didn’t want to go to a shady dive bar with you and your very loud friends from the office, I’d say so,” You loved your best friend, and you missed spending time together, but you really couldn’t say the same for her co-workers.

You had nothing against the women she worked with, and you found that they were all perfectly lovely and usually quite fun to be around… it was just that when the alcohol came out, the volume control and verbal filters disappeared.

You wouldn’t say that barhopping was what you’d prefer to be doing tonight, along with more or less babysitting your friend and her friends, but you didn’t know when you’d next be able to squeeze in a night off to just hang out and have fun, so this was happening. You would laugh and smile and keep the drunk secretaries from going home with questionable people, and then you would look back on your ladies’ night with fond memories until you could eventually attend another.

You had known when you picked your career that it would be an around-the-clock, all-day, every-day sort of thing. You never deluded yourself into thinking you would have much of a social life or long-term relationships. Most partners, hell even most friends, would have a problem with you jetting off for weekends, or disappearing for days at a time under mountains of paperwork and appointments.

It just made your best friend that much more important to you. You’d met as kids, went through years of school beside each other, hung out, did stupid teenager things and then stupid young adult things together. You’d cried and laughed and fought and made up a million times, you’d gone to different colleges and still kept in touch, moved away, moved back, and you were still going strong. She was your ride-or-die, your anchor and your parachute and everything in between, so if you could use some of your precious, hoarded, blink-and-you’ll-miss-it time off to see her, that’s just what you’d do.

“You should take some of that fire, and direct it at your boss. Tell him no for a change. I’d love to see his face at that!” She meant well, always trying to look out for you and your health when it came to your beyond demanding job. You weren’t even allowed to tell her a fraction of what you were doing in your professional life, and she knew it, but that didn’t stop her from being ready to throw fists at your employer at a moment’s notice.

“One does not simply tell the über-rich that they don’t need to fly to Paris, again. Being a PA is a full-time nannying gig, except your charge is an adult who can argue when you say no, and you cannot put them on timeout when they’re being a brat. Where he goes, I go, and unless something drastic happens, it will probably continue on like that for a while.” She laughed at your jokes, and your heart hurt a little less at her glee. You knew she would never give up on you or blame you for your work being unpredictable, but that didn’t make the sting of last-minute cancels and missed outings hurt any less, for either of you.

“But it must be nice, just getting on a plane and going somewhere amazing at the drop of a hat. Travelling the world like a superstar, meeting people, having amazing adventures with mysterious strangers…”

“Easy there, Mamma Mia, your wanderlust is showing. And I’d take you with me in a heartbeat if I could. You were born to be a jetsetter, not to be stuck in this town with nothing but the office cubicle beside you to stare at. And I still think you should apply for one of those immersive culture grants you keep mooning over. They’d be fools not to fund your writing expedition!” She was an incredible person, three full degrees to her name in the time it took a normal student to get one, and a brain that could run miles around the rest of the professionals in her field. But she was tethered to this quiet backwater town, and she wasn’t free to fly like she deserved.

“You know I can’t just… go, like you can. My mom, it’d just break her heart… I don’t want to leave her alone, not after Dad,” You honestly doubted that you’d ever meet a woman more horrible and undeserving of her own daughter’s kindness. Helen was a parasite full of lies and manipulations and greed, and she had attached herself like a bad rash to your friend after she’d chased away the rest of her family members.

Your friend searched for the good in everyone, but you wished she’d stop looking for it at that home.

“You deserve your own happiness and freedom, and she should be encouraging you to spread your wings if and when you’re ready.” Politicking your friend was never something you enjoyed. She was the last person you wanted to use your negotiating credentials and sly subterfuge tactics against, but you wanted, needed, her safety and health more. You considered it almost bribery; dangling her dream future in front of her in exchange of being rid of the garbage in her life.

“Hey now, we’re getting way too deep into sad-drunk night conversations, and this is strictly a happy-fun-drunk night. Please leave all baggage and woes at the door, thank you!” You admitted your defeat and surrendered your verbal power point on Why Helen Needs to Disappear. You would get her next time for sure, give her the accelerant to burn down that bridge. “Anyways, the reason I called was to remind you of our haunt for the night. One of the girls, Kelly, you remember Kelly, found this adorable little hole in the wall. A total boys’ club apparently: darts, pool, sports games on the TV, but Kelly’s sister’s friend’s brother Tyler said the place was a favourite of the local army guys. So, if nothing else, we’ll at least have some hunks to look at for a while. It’ll be great!”

You jotted down the directions to the bar as she listed them, and the time you were expected to arrive there.

“Oh! And wear that cute little blue number you bought last spring; I know you still have it so don’t you dare lie. It makes your ass and legs look divine, and I think you could stand to make a new acquaintance tonight.” That Little Blue Number was buried in the back of your closet where you had hoped it would remain forever, but luck was not on your side tonight it seemed. But it did make you look, and feel, fantastic.  It was just so… breezy. “And heels! Real ones, not your cute little personal assistant kitten heels. Those black strappy ones would work like a dream!” You just sighed dramatically into the receiver and agreed to her demands.

“I’ll let you go now, and yes, I suppose I can be presentable tonight, dress and all. See-ya later!”

---

Hole in the wall was right. This place was basically underground it was so on the D.L. It was warm inside though, and in the middle of autumn with so much skin on display, you could not be more pleased to get away from the chilled outside air.

You would describe the interior as comfortable with a hint of rustic; lots of warm dark wood and low lights, mixed with the soft Latin music crooning in the background and the few patrons’ conversations adding to the ambience.

All in all, it was probably the nicest dive bar you’d been to in your hometown.

Your party was easy to spot where they had claimed a group of pushed together tables towards the far side of the establishment, and you carefully made your way over to them in your tricky high heels.

You said your hellos to returning faces and introduced yourself to the new additions, and accepted the chair you were pointed to and the drink pressed into your hand.

And so, the hours rolled.

You had enjoyed two fruity cocktails and a flaming shot before you called it quits on the alcohol for the night. You still had a few hours to sober up enough to drive home safely, and you would be able to help the girls get to their rides and ways home too. You appreciated having a social drink or two, but you didn’t care for hangovers and would happily take slightly tipsy over party-hard drunk anytime. Plus, your contract stated you were on-call, always, and you could be required to navigate high-stress negotiations at the drop of a hat. It was just better to cut yourself off, then reap the consequences of your actions later.

You tapped your friend’s shoulder as you walked past and leaned over to talk into her ear. “I’m getting some water for the table; do you want anything else?”

“Mmmm, no I think we’re good for now, thanks!” She was plastered already, but she had a huge grin on her face and was laughing at her co-workers’ stories, so you considered it a win of a night. You gave her a pat goodbye and swayed your way to the bar.

But you just were not accounting for the uneven floorboards, or how much your heels affected your currently less than steady equilibrium, and before you could blink you were teetering over into a nasty fall.

“Whoa there, easy does it, muñequita” Arms wrapped around you and pulled you back into a warm chest. “Careful now, don’t go twisting an ankle in those fancy shoes.”

You certainly did not account for the man you turned around to face. Wow.

His hands glided respectfully from where he had caught you around the waist to your still bent and held out elbows, steadying you as you swayed dangerously again.

Warm brown eyes, soft brown curls, and the sweetest smile you’d ever seen. It felt like your heart was going to beat out of your chest, and you knew that it wasn’t left over adrenaline from your near wipeout. He was gorgeous and handling you so gently, and you wanted to spend forever in that moment.

“Hey there, palomita, I’m Frankie, can I buy you a drink?”

[Next Part]

[zmediaoutlet]

in support of wildfire relief, @jesusonthetortillas​ donated $10, and requested pre-series pining!Sam, with diary discovery. Thank you for donating!

to get your own personalized fic, please see this post. (no longer taking prompts)

After his little lesson from Sabrina, the hot librarian's assistant, it's not hard at all for Dean to find what he's looking for. He drops Sam off at the library the way he usually does, and flirts with Sabrina on his way out like he usually does, but instead of going to his shift at the construction site like Sam thinks he's going to, he circles back around, through the library stacks on the main floor, and waits like a dingus by YOUNG ADULT – ADVENTURE, watching the back of Sam's nerdy, nerdy head where he's hunched at the computer banks, getting up to no kind of good.

It wouldn't have come to this, Dean thinks, if Sam weren't so—he doesn't even know how to think about it. He doesn't know when to pin it down. They were doing okay. Sam ran away, a few years back, but since then he's—well, he's always bitching at Dad and bitching at Dean half the time too, but he's done good in school, he's done his part with the hunting. It was sometime at that last school. September in Maryland. Dad was gone a lot of the time, because Dad always was, and Dean went with him on about half the hunts but Sam got to stay behind, got to just call in research tips and last-minute lore checks, and Dean thought he was pretty happy, as much as Sam ever seemed happy. Chill, just doing his homework at the rickety desk, not complaining any more than usual about Dean's usual dinners of fast food or Kraft or Top Ramen. Seventeen and getting tall and mellowing out, and finally hanging out with his little brother was just fine. Dean thought.

That was two towns ago, three months ago. Dean picks his nails with his pocket knife, leaning on one elbow by the Hardy Boys. Sam's still working away on the computer. Anymore he always is. After school he's always angling for Dean to bring him to the library and if Dean won't drive him then Sam walks, even when it's raining, like it is half the time in frickin Washington, anyway. Always finding a free computer and settling in and disappearing onto the internet. Not coming home until the library closes, and moody if Dean's there when he walks in, and Dean just—he thought they were past all this crap. He thought that maybe Sam had—settled. Figured out how things were, how things had to be.

Well. Either way. Sabrina, with the glasses and the sexy dreads and the legs that very much went all the way to the floor under those wide-legged pants she was always wearing—she gave Dean a computer lesson, free of charge, and he's got a way in, now. Sam won't talk to him, won't hardly look at him. Dean chews the inside of his cheek, watching Sam type on the battered public machine. Sam's not the only one who knows how to research a case, in this family. Dean's going to figure this out. He's gonna fix it.

A bell rings, at five o'clock, like the end of a school day. Sam jerks like he's been shocked and looks up at the ceiling, clearly annoyed. He's been engrossed for two hours, typing away, reading. Real frickin' boring, on Dean's end, but he stayed put. Like staking out a house for a job—nothing to do but wait. He takes a few steps backwards, makes sure the shelves hide his face, and there's a general rustling as people leave—a mom and her kid, and tears because the kid's favorite book wasn't here—and when Dean looks again the computer banks are empty, and Sabrina's checking out the last few patrons, and Sam's—gone. Walking home in the rain, little goth that he is. Fine with Dean, if it gives him a few minutes.

When he settles into the chair Sam was in it's still warm. He opens up Netscape Navigator, the library's homepage welcoming him in a friendly kinda way—big yellow smiley face, that's fun. He goes to where Sabrina taught him, in the menu at the top: view, and then History, where it turns out the computer saves all the webpages you went to just in case you need to find them again, and there—oh, jackpot. Gotcha, Sam.

All kinds of crap. A weather website, a bunch of Ask Jeeves searches, something called DiffEQandU. Some mythology stuff, too, and Dean goes to one that turns out to be a history of kitsune. That's something, at least—Sam doing his important homework, in there with whatever other crap he's been working on.

The last bunch of results are all pages from some website called Livejournal, which Dean's never heard of. He clicks one at random and is brought to—huh. A splashy red page, with a big picture on top of kids graduating from high school in those dorky blue robes. He scrolls down, skimming, looking for the important details among the mess, but it's hard to tell what it is. A forum, it looks like. Kind of like the ones Dean's been on where people trade car parts, or swap ghost stories. A square box, dated yesterday, that says WHEN IS HARVARD'S APP REVIEW???, and a panicky paragraph where some chick might die if she doesn't get in. Another, the day before, with questions about the SAT, and a link that says 43 comments that, when Dean clicks it, brings him to a bunch of apparently teenagers all giving each other tips from some test they're worried about taking.

College. Dean's stomach curls into a knot. It's all—college stuff, applications and tests and deadlines. The usernames are all weird shit: tmntpizzadelivery, quistis4ever, willyshakes. Dean can't tell—is one of these kids Sam?

Sabrina's nearly done with her line of book nerds. Dean rubs a hand over his mouth and clicks away, tries another of the Livejournal results in the history. Another forum, this one apparently about—soccer? Jesus, Sam. Another forum, this one about Conan the Barbarian, and that one's at least easy to snort at, with people's shitty drawings of Red Sonja and excitement about a possible remake. There are personal pages, though, too—one titled Delaware Sucks, in which some girl complains about her life—one titled trent reznor rules my soul, featuring a goth kid who won't shut up about Nine Inch Nails and his bitch of a mother. Another, with a plain blue-and-grey color scheme, with the title on the road, and a new post from today—from an hour ago—with the text just reading, I don't know what to do anymore, and six comments underneath, waiting.

"Hey—ready to go?" Sabrina says.

Dean jerks in his seat. Sabrina's raising her eyebrows at him, behind her glasses, a little smile curving her mouth that promises something a little better than book dust and computer lessons. "I'm always ready," Dean says, grinning, and gets her to roll her eyes—yeah, he's in there—but his eyes drag back to the webpage, the posts. He scrolls down, quick—post after post, waiting to be read. "Real quick—borrow a pen?"

She has one—she's a sexy librarian, of course she has one—and he uncrumples a receipt from his jacket pocket and writes down the URL, careful to get it right. rearviewmirror.livejournal.com. He wants to click on the comments, but.

"Come on, the movie's starting soon," Sabrina says, and Dean closes Netscape, folds the receipt very carefully into his pocket, stands up. He's got a date to make out with a hot chick in the back of a movie theater, and maybe a little more, and Sam's whole Eeyore routine has to take a number. Dean will figure it out. He's got an easy way to run a stakeout, now.

*

December 4

Still can't decide. Anyone else going through this?

current mood: agonized current music: motorhead (AGAIN)

Comments:

teenagehamburger: Yes!! I still don't know where I want to go. Mom wants me to stay close to home, but Delaware sucksssss. Where are you looking?

       rearviewmirror: Anywhere. TBH I'm still not even sure I should apply.

               teenagehamburger: WTF?? Of course you should!! College is the big escape, remember?

 December 1

He's driving me INSANE

current mood: annoyed current music: motorhead (again)

Comments:

bloodofreptile: lol you got it bad

       rearviewmirror: right now I just want to hit him with a brick, actually

teenagehamburger: LOL!! Sorry :(  :(

       rearviewmirror: Sigh. I guess it could be worse, right?

             teenagehamburger: Definitely!! He could be the cute cheerleader from 4th period who doesn't know I exist….

                     coppertonebuttgirl: oh, sorry hammie, that sucks <3

 November 29

The thing is, I don't even want anything crazy? I just want to be—me. Just me, without anyone breathing down my neck. Trig teacher says I could get in to one of the top ten, but I just want to go *anywhere that's not here*

current mood: restless current music: Pearl Jam (home alone!)

Comments:

bloodofreptile: i hear you lol. why don't they get that the rules and hovering and all that shit just makes us want to run faster?

    rearviewmirror: Exactly! My teacher keeps talking about college like it's a place to expand your mind and stuff, and that's fine, but lately I just want to expand my horizons. Kind of ironic?

         bloodofreptile: yeah lol haven't you lived like everywhere?

               rearviewmirror: Feels like it.

teenagehamburger: Is You Know Who going to college too?

 November 18

I feel like it shouldn't be this hard. Normal people have it easy.

current mood: indescribable current music: silence

Comments:

coppertonebuttgirl: feel free to talk to me anytime <3

 November 3

Dad's gone again. Didn't say goodbye. We went to the movies and he gave me a beer, and we watched the stars for an hour in the parking lot even though it was freaking freezing. Happier than I've been in a while. Don’t want it to change but it has to change.

current mood: current music:

Comments:

teenagehamburger: OMG, that sounds so romantic?? I can't believe you were drinking!! Aren't you underage?

     bloodofreptile: lol relax it's not a big deal

           teenagehamburger: I'm just saying!!

coppertonebuttgirl: wish it wasn't hard for you <3

bloodofreptile: dude you've got to say something

     rearviewmirror: I literally can't.

          bloodofreptile: ok but it's gonna drive you crazy. do you even know if he's gay? start with that maybe

*

The posts go on, and on. Reading backwards through time, it's a strange piecing-together. rearviewmirror is active in about ten communities and Dean reads through all of them, that week, bringing an illicit cup of coffee in to the library when he doesn't have a construction shift. He reads with his hand over his mouth and by the time he has to get off the computer he's got a headache, every time, his throat dry and aching.

The journal's been active for six months. Dean clicks through the pages to the very start and reads it in the right order, his heart pounding oddly in his ears. I don't know what this place is. A journal, I guess, considering the name. I just need somewhere to talk where no one will listen.

It's not a pouring-out, like some teenage girl doodling hearts around her crush's initials. He holds back. Never says exactly where they're living, never mentions names. To figure out who it was, you'd have to be one of two other people, and Dean knows that Dad can barely turn on a computer, much less go onto the internet and pore over some teenage angst-fest. Dean spends half his time wishing he were the same. Maybe if he hadn't asked Sabrina for help.

At home, Sam's the same as he always is. Comes home after his own stint at the library, eats the dinner Dean gives him. He reads, most of the time. Does his schoolwork. Dean says, careful one night, "Hey, True Lies is on. Wanna watch?" but Sam only gives him a strange, uncertain look and says, "No, I have a paper due," and he shuts himself into their bedroom with the door very firmly closed, and Dean sits there on the couch alone with a beer and Jamie Lee Curtis being sexy as hell on the fuzzy TV, and he—he doesn't know what to do.

He remembers that day, the looking at the stars day. It was November 2. A nasty anniversary, in their family, and yeah, Dad left. Dean got it. He'd thought Sam did, too, by now. It was better to have Dad gone, on a hunt, than trying to drink himself to death at home in the apartment. At least he was working, that way, and not hurting himself. To distract both of them, Dean picked Sam up from the library and they went straight to the movie theater—the Blair Witch sequel, with Dean providing running commentary about how dumb they were about dealing with ghosts, which at least made Sam grin and elbow him to shut up, even if he was laughing too, the liar—and, yeah, afterward they'd picked up Taco Bell, and then after that Dean swung through the liquor store drive-thru and they parked out, and he let Sam have a beer, and they both sat on the trunk and leaned back against the cold glass or the rear window and didn't really talk, much. The stars, big above them. The night, quiet. Sam was pressed against his side, chilled out and not bitching about anything, and Dean tucked his hand behind his head and he was pretty content with the world, right then. His brother, here, and a six-pack waiting, and nothing happening right then that'd hurt them. Sam smiled at him, that night, before he went to bed. It was sweet—like he used to be, when he was little—and Dean had ended up falling asleep on the couch, watching the public access, but his dreams that night were—good, like they never were on the night of November 2, and it had felt… okay.

do you even know if he's gay?

The college prep—that wasn't a surprise. It hurt but it didn't shock. All his worrying, all his whining, wanting to be 'free'—whatever free meant—it was all part and parcel of the last decade. Dean should've known better. Sam wasn't mellowing out. Sam was a stubborn little shit and he'd always wanted to have a life that wasn't—this.

The gay thing. That hit different. One of the communities Sam followed was for lesbian and gay youth, talking about their coming out experiences. Sam didn't post there much but he commented, asked questions. How do you know? What does it feel like? The hamburger girl was from there, a lesbian chick trapped in some Delaware high school. Encouraging, commiserating. They talked about how college would be their big escape, their chance to go to a big city and find their way. Meet people. Only apparently hamburger girl was crushing on the cheerleader from fourth period, and Sam—

Dean makes an excuse the next day. Saturday: no work for Dean, no school for Sam. Alone in the apartment together, all day, after Dean's week of reading—he can't face it. "Where are you going?" Sam asks, eight a.m. with his hair fucked up and coffee clenched between his hands, and Dean looks at him in his pajama pants and his ratty hand-me-down shirt, skinny and tall and hiding things Dean can't handle, and he says, snappish in a way he doesn't mean to be—"Out, Sam, for christ's sake—" and sees Sam's expression shutter before the apartment door slams behind him.

He goes for a drive, out of town. Cold, threatening rain like it always is, but it won't snow. Out—past the airport, past the suburbs, out to Black Lake. They killed the nymph that was drowning people out here, him and Dad, when they first arrived. Sam stayed home. Sullen on the other end of the line when Dean called to say they'd finished the job, and they were getting burgers for dinner, and did Sam want one. Whatever, Sam had said, like even answering was an imposition. That was November, too.

He sits on the hood, heels braced on the bumper, arms locked around his knees. The lake looks cold. He wants to sink into it, wants to feel that freezing shock, like the polar bear dive he did on a dare back in Illinois. The way the brain just goes blank, tv-static filling up everything and washing all the shit away. All the weird crap you don't want to think about, frozen, and the only thing to focus on just—getting out.

He's not going to dive into the lake. It's nine in the morning and he's wearing his only pair of boots. He hasn't gone out with Sabrina all week. He's been piss-poor at the construction site and McMillan nearly brained him with a hammer yesterday, because Dean wasn't paying attention, and the foreman screamed at him in front of the whole crew. None of that feels close, right now. He breathes the wet-clogged air, cold and mossy, turning his ring restlessly on his finger.

Back at that high school they went to in Raton, Mrs. Encinas in 6th period English told Dean he'd be smart, if he didn't just give up all the time. All he needed to do was take the time to read between the lines, to actually interpret what he was reading and not take things on face value. He made some joke. He doesn't remember what it was, now. Like he didn't know what the fuckin Great Gatsby was saying, when he hoped and hoped and never got what he wanted. When happiness always felt like it was about a thousand miles away, on the other side of a lake he couldn't cross, and hope went out like a snuffed light. Dean can read what's not there. He's done it his whole life.

The problem: Sam's little online journal went back six months. They've lived in four towns, in that time. He never uses names, never puts up anything that'd really identify him. They were in Maryland, August-September-first of October, and it was a comment right at the end of August, on the community for gay kids, talking to the hamburger girl: I like someone, too. He doesn't know. He. The same he that carried forward, through all his journal entries, from Maryland to Washington across whole breadth of the country. He likes classic rock. He drives me nuts. He gave me a beer, and I wanted—

Dean curls forward over his knees, sliding his hands into his hair, breathing hard between his knees. He can read between the lines and he wishes that he couldn't. He wishes—god. What? That Sam would just meet a nice girl and fuck her and get it out of his system? Except how he was writing, it wasn't like it was new. It was something he'd been thinking about. When did you know? had read one of the forum posts, and in the responses, among all the dumb teenage crap about formal dances and jerking off to the wrong person in the music video, there was a comment by username rearviewmirror that said, I broke my leg and he carried me to the car and I wanted to kiss him.

Sam broke his leg in July, the summer he turned fifteen. He'd been trying to stay quiet but he'd had this trapped whimper in his throat that he couldn't stop, and Dad had stayed behind to cover their backs and it had been left to Dean, to scoop Sam up, his whole body quivering with the shock—to hug him close between the trees, humid Georgia night making every place their skin touched slick with sweat—to let Sam cling to his neck, shuddering, and to put a hand on his back and whisper, hey, Sammy, it's not even that bad, huh? no bone sticking out, you did good. we're gonna get you a cast and I'm gonna draw you a great picture, okay, Cindy Crawford with her tits out, right there on your shin and Sam had been so shaky that his laugh sounded like he was crying, but he'd nodded against Dean's neck and chattered out sounds cool, Dean, and when Dean got him to the car Sam hadn't wanted to let him go—so they crawled into the backseat together, Sam still half in his lap and with his arms still tight around Dean's neck. Dad got into the front and frowned at Dean in the rearview, and Dean nodded, and when the car leapt forward Sam gasped and gripped at Dean's shirt when his leg got jostled, and Dean put his hand in Sam's hair and said, it's okay, you're okay, and Sam—wanted to kiss him.

He can't square it. It's like there's some twinned version of his brother, in this place Dean never knew existed. All these secrets he's been hoarding, this other person he's been. These wants that make him a stranger.

He goes back home with stuff for lunch around noon. Sam's reading, in the bedroom. "Got pb&j or grilled cheese," Dean calls, down the shotgun kitchen through the thin-carpeted hall, and Sam calls back, "I'm not hungry," which is a goddamn shit of a lie. He grows like an inch a day, he's never not hungry. Dean braces his hands on the counter and counts to five, in his head. He puts the bread away, and puts the cheese in the fridge. He goes into the living room and turns on the TV and it's college football, which is boring as hell, but it fills the apartment with noise. He wishes Dad were home. He wishes he were hunting.

The Huskies lose. Sam hasn't come out of the room, as far as Dean can tell. He's had—four beers? He looks at the table. Five. It's getting toward dark and it's raining, a-fucking-gain, and Dean's still wearing his jacket and his boots and his ears are cold, because the heater in here sucks, and he's shredded the label of the beer everywhere, everywhere. He brushes it off his knees and that just means it's gonna get ground into the shit-brown carpet, but—who cares. He's got other things on his mind.

He gets the last beer out of the fridge. Should've bought more. "Got some spare cash," he says, to the dark hall. There's a halo of light around the half-closed bedroom door. "Thinking pizza for dinner."

Silence.

Dean pushes the beer bottle against his forehead. "C'mon, Sam. It's not going to kill you to prefer pepperoni or sausage. Just say something."

"Doesn't matter," is the response.

Dean squeezes his eyes closed, slams the bottle down to the counter. It's four steps to the bedroom and the door flies open under his palm. "Just fucking say," Dean says, and Sam's looking at him with big eyes, curled up on the twin bed with his back up against the wall, books spread open all around him. Homework, of course. "Just say it, okay? What do you want?"

Sam stares at him. "I don't care! Get—whatever, pepperoni. Jeez, what's up with you?"

"Sure you don't want sausage?" Dean says, kind of nasty, and Sam frowns, shakes his head. Goddamn it. Dean drags a hand over his face, sags against the door frame. He's—a little dizzy. Oh—okay, so maybe he should've eaten, sometime since this morning. "Damn it, Sam," he says, his stomach twinging.

"What?" Give him this—maybe he's sneaking around, maybe he's lying about half his life, but Sam doesn't shrink back from an argument. He's still in his pajamas. He shoves his notebook away, lifts his chin. "What?"

"Been doing some reading," Dean says, and watches Sam's face scrunch disbelievingly. "Rearviewmirror? You don't even like cars."

It's weirdly satisfying to watch Sam blanch. He's been so unaffected the last little while it's almost a relief to get a real reaction. His mouth parts, his eyes go big. He stares at Dean in total silence except the rain drumming on the roof, and then he says, "That's—private."

"Not that private," Dean says. "You're putting shit on the internet for any asshole to read, Sam. It's not a pretty princess diary with a sparkly lock."

Sam's face is white. He licks his lips, his back rigid against the wall. "How did you—you never—"

"I know how to use a friggin computer," Dean says, and watches Sam close his eyes. "So? Got a lot to say to a bunch of strangers. Might as well say it to me. I mean, I'm your brother, right? Family."

It comes out hard but his voice cracks, on the last word. He swallows and some of the anger dissipates. Sam's jaw flexes and he tucks his hands behind his neck and his knees drag in, like defense. Like he needs defense. Against Dean. Like it's Dean who's wrecking things.

Dean's legs go out from under him. He sits down. Right there, in the doorway to the bedroom, the frame hard against his spine. The rain's loud and he doesn't—what is there to say? "You should've told me."

That's really it. Sam looks at him. Disbelief. "How?" he says, and Dean tips his head back against the wall, looks at the popcorn ceiling, says, "I don't know, it's not my damn secret. But you should've."

"Yeah, that would've gone great," Sam says, sarcastic.

Silence. The rain. Dean drags his hand over his face again, clears his throat. "So. You're—queer." For some reason it seems like the simplest thing to start with.

Sam snorts. "I'm not, like, jerking off to JC Chasez," he says, bitter.

"Who?" Dean says, but shakes his head. "God, whatever. Jesus, Sam, I can't—don't talk about you jerking off. You're not—you don't date chicks, either. Ever. So you're—"

"I don't know," Sam says. Kind of firm. Dean closes his eyes to not look at him. "I don't know, okay? But that's not what—" Pause, while he drags in a breath that's audible across the room. Dean curls over, his forehead between his knees. It's too big to hear. Sam blows out air. "You read the whole thing?"

Frail. Cobweb soft, like if Dean breathed too hard it'd break. Dean folds his hands over his head. "I read the whole thing," he says.

"Don't—" Sam says, quick, and cuts himself off. Dean can't stand it—he looks, peeking up, and Sam's made himself small, there at the head of the bed. His mouth is small, his lips between his teeth—his eyes, big and scared. "Dean. I wouldn't—I swear. I wouldn't—"

"Kiss me?" Sam flinches like from a raised fist, when Dean's all the way over here. Dean licks his lips, dropping his hands so they dangle useless between his knees. "Or, what. Leave? Either way it's pretty fucked up, for me, Sam."

"Oh my god," Sam says, very quietly, and—christ. Looks like he's gonna cry.

"Sam," Dean says, and no matter how pissed he is, that's not—Sam fights back. Sam always fights back, he's frickin' annoying that way. He's not supposed to crack like this. Dean rolls up to his knees and Sam's looking away, neck craned unnaturally so that his face is pointed at the broken-blind-covered window so that Dean can't see, but Dean can—Dean can see his teeth so hard in his lip that the skin there's white, and his chest shaky, and his fist clenched in the thin fabric of his pajama bottoms, and, and—"Sammy," Dean says, again, and Sam's eyes close and there is—shit, shit, a tear, running fast out of the corner of his eye, streaking down his cheek so quick that if Dean could blink he might've missed it.

Dean's gut hurts, like he took a punch from a werewolf and he's gonna be bruised for the next three weeks. He doesn't have anything to say to make it better, not when it's this screwed up. This isn't Sam bitching about Dad or whining about crossbow practice or pouting about a move. Sam's been thinking about this for two years and he's managed to talk about it with people, online at least. Dean's coming at it with a week's slow raw realization and he doesn't know how to make it—not how it is.

He gets over to the bed, on his knees. Sam won't look at him, like the view of nothing through the blinds is the most fascinating thing in the world. There's a wet shining trail, down his cheek to his jaw. A damp circle on his t-shirt. Dean says, because he can't think of what else to say, "You really—you want—" and even then, can't articulate it. A kiss. Sex. A kind of close they've never been. He says, slower, "Is that why you want to go?"

Sam drags in air. Sounds like it hurts.

Dean drags his teeth over his lip. There are books all over the bed. He pushes them away, and Sam's notebook. He pushes up—knee on the mattress, and sinking down to his hip, and Sam's close enough to touch, now, and he jerks and looks at Dean like he's an alien. A ghost. Something that can't be real, only they both know that it is. Dean touches Sam's hand, fisted there in his pants, and Sam jerks again, his stiff shoulders back against the wall, and he shoves Dean's hand but no matter the crazy growth spurt Sam's been having Dean's still stronger, still has the reach—he grips Sam's wrist and yanks, gets him off balance, and then he's right inside Sam's grapple and has his hand flat on Sam's chest, pressing him harder against the paint, and Sam stares at him wild-eyed with his breath both fast and deep and Dean leans forward and presses their mouths together. It's a bad kiss—he barely hits on center, and Sam freezes—but there's the touch of warmth, Sam's lips—soft—and the shocked air hitting Dean's face—and Dean drags in breath through his nose and resettles, fits his mouth to Sam's soft open lower lip and makes it better, his head tipping, easy pressure there, just the faintest amount of suction so that when he pulls back a millimeter there's a little smooch sound, and that makes it—real.

He kissed his little brother. No getting around that. No pretending. His nose brushes Sam's cheek and Sam's not really breathing, and Dean—fuck, Dean does it again, pressing in and letting Sam's wrist go so that he can get a hand on Sam's jaw, tipping him so it's good. Sam makes a tiny noise and breathes out hard against his mouth, and when Dean kisses him for a third time Sam meets it, his lips moving finally out of that still shock, his fingertips brushing Dean's arm all careful, his heart pounding under Dean's hand.

Dean pulls back. An inch between them—not enough but all Dean can seem to manage. He swallows. His lips are tingling, and his eyes are closed and he doesn't want to open them, and his fingers—jesus, he's got them tangled in Sam's hair like Sam's some easy hot chick he's picked up at a dive bar, pressing her up against the wall in the bathroom hallway, knowing how the night's going to end.

"We can't," Sam says. Sam. His voice, steady and familiar. "We—Dean. This isn't—"

"No," Dean says, god knows why. He pulls back, though—pulls his hand out of Sam's hair, stands up. His legs wobble for a second. He has to open his eyes and so he drags in a breath and does, and Sam's sitting there with his shoulders high and tight and his hands fisted on his knees and his hair a little fluffed on one side, a little screwy. His mouth parted and his eyes—fixed on Dean's face, looking all over it. Like he's memorizing a trail map, for an unknown stretch of land.

"I'm drunk," Dean says. It's not true. Five beers—he's buzzed but he knows what he's doing. Sam doesn't contradict the lie. "Acting nuts. Sorry, Sam. I—"

"I want pepperoni," Sam says. His face isn't white anymore. He's flushed, dark pink in the hollows of his cheeks. His eyes are dark, wide and fixed on Dean, and there's still that shining trail on his cheek but it's drying. "Order from that place on Melrose. Garlic knots, too."

Dean backs up a step, pins on a smile. "What, you think I'm dumb? Like I wouldn't get knots," he says, and Sam doesn't smile but he nods, brief and fast like Dean's picking up a play in some con they're running, and Dean snaps a finger-gun at Sam—fuck, what is he doing—and turns out of the room, says—"Okay, dinner in thirty minutes or less or your money back!" and walks through the kitchen and out into the living room and out the front door, and closes it behind himself, and leans against it and stares blindly out into the rain, the setting sun still sparking some tiny golden bit of light out to the west, past the horizon.

He licks his lips and tastes salt, not his own. Sam's hand, on his arm—skimming, brushing light through the thickness of his jacket. Like he wasn't sure he'd be allowed to really touch. He drags in the rain-soaked air. He'll drive, to get the pizza. He'll drive, and he'll give Sam time. When he gets back he'll offer Sam half the pie and a beer, and there'll be some movie on TV that Sam probably won't want to watch, but maybe he will. They'll be—brothers. Dean knows how to do that. It feels like it's all he's got left.

*

It's—not easy but it's not all that hard, either. There's a brutal week where Dean's torn between walking on eggshells and wanting to wrestle Sam to the ground, and Sam goes perfectly silent—not pouty withdrawal or furious silent-treatment, but as still and quiet as though he's not even there. Dean can't bear it. It takes Dad coming home to break it—Dad, and christ, when he calls to say he's coming back Dean completely freezes and his mind fills up with—with—but then Sam looks at him and takes the phone out of his hand and says, his mouth's full—what's up? and after that it's like things… settle. It's not okay but it's livable.

rearviewmirror.livejournal.com goes quiet. Dean checks, occasionally, over the months that pass. When he's looking up some random piece of lore for Dad, when they're hunting alone and Sam's stuck back at whatever shitty hotel they stored him at, and Dean's on research duty because Sam's in high school and can't answer his phone. Dean types in the address and checks, and it's still that last post. Anyone else going through this? He hopes, sincerely, not. It's too fucked up for anyone else to bear. At least the Winchesters have practice.

They run PT. Sam does his homework. Dean watches TV. Hunting focuses things. There's stuff to kill and people to save and things aren't falling apart any more than they ever are, so—Dean deals.

Sam leaves.

*

It's January. Dean's in a library, alone. Dad's working a job north of Boise and he sent Dean down to Wendover to take care of a haunting, and Dean's done and Dad called and said two more days and there's this raw wounded spot where Dean should be able to turn, to look over his left shoulder and say—but it's empty there, and so he's in a library.

Sam started posting again, when he got to school. Small stuff. That he was sorry for the long break. That he'd ended up at a university after all. The hamburger girl doesn't respond anymore but the Nine Inch Nails boy does: thought you were dead, he says, no-caps like he's so goddamn cool, and Sam says, Just working some stuff out.

Sam likes his professors. He plays pick-up soccer with some of the guys from his dorm. His roommate snores. He doesn't listen to music at all. There's nothing—real. There's none of the sadboy shit, nothing about what he's feeling, no pondering of what it all means. He picks up a few different Livejournal friends, clearly people from his classes, who crack jokes about Ancient Civ and Linear Algebra. He joins a community focused around civil rights litigation. He might as well not be there.

Dean reads it all. If Sam's not calling then Dean's gonna check in whatever way he can. When Sam left Dean made sure he had at least one good knife in his bag and he said don't forget the salt when Sam hiked his backpack onto his shoulder, and Sam snorted and looked at him like a gunshot but he nodded, and Sam's not dumb, he knows how to take care of himself, but. Dean's the big brother, here. He's within his rights, to check and make sure baby bro's not being a dumbass.

January and it's fuckin cold, in Wendover, but the library's too warm. Dean keeps his coat on anyway, scrolling through the comms. He's kinda turning into an expert, navigating the pages, recognizing the shorthand. He hasn't made an account. Doesn't know why he would. He finishes his scan of the comms Sam's part of and doesn't really see any relevant posts, and no comments from rearviewmirror that he can find. He chews his cheek and goes back to the main page, thinking—okay, he can get out of here. Beer and dinner, and finding a motel that doesn't look toxic, and waiting for Dad to call. Not the worst night he could have. He refreshes, one last time, just in case, and there's a new post. He reads:

January 23

Done with class for the week. Feeling restless.

current mood: current music:

Comments:

lawblog69: we should go out!!

bloodofreptile: go get laid

Dean snorts. At least the NIN kid is consistent. He refreshes again and there's a new comment.

bloodofreptile: go get laid

    rearviewmirror: Not really in the cards.

He takes a breath, sitting there at the computer bank. It's quiet in here—the good people of Wendover aren't much for the library, apparently—but he feels like someone's right there. Like he could reach out and touch, when it's just words on a glowing screen. Still—the speed of the comment—Sam's… sitting there. Right now, on a computer in Palo Alto, looking at the same thing Dean is.

He refreshes.

bloodofreptile: go get laid

    rearviewmirror: Not really in the cards.

        bloodofreptile: still holding onto that? very hufflepuff. how long has it been?

              rearviewmirror: my whole life

Dean presses his knuckles to his lips, hard enough that he can feel his teeth pressing back. Jesus, Sam. He refreshes—another comment, from coppertonebuttgirl, agreeing about the restlessness but apparently she's off to a date with her boyfriend, and Sam responds and says sounds nice :), and jesus, Sam, Dean thinks. Off to have the big college experience like he wanted so bad, off to have that new shiny life, and after five months away he's still all sadsack, still not actually living.

He clicks the comment box. He types, unaccountably mad. He hits submit, and gets a warning that it'll show as anonymous. He waits, and refreshes, and reads:

Anonymous: Just go hit a bar. Live a little. Thought you were supposed to be smart, college boy.

     rearviewmirror: Since when does smart have anything to do with it?

Dean rolls his eyes. He can hear Sam's voice saying it, nettled and trying to sound like he isn't.

Anonymous: You're on here mooning after Cindy Crawford when Claudia Schiffer and Tyra Banks are out there in the real world. Have a beer, get over it.

A pause. Dean has to refresh twice. The librarian walks by with her cart of books and gives him a distracted smile, and Dean's so addled he doesn't actually process and then return it until she's already gone.

rearviewmirror: I don't think it's something you get over. It mattered. It still does, to me.

Dean chews his thumbnail. Sam's face, turned unnaturally, looking out that window at the rain. The wet track, on his cheek.

Anonymous: Matters enough that you're never going to move on?

    rearviewmirror: I didn't think you could move on from family. Maybe I was wrong.

The air goes out of Dean's chest. He turns away from the computer, entirely, swiveling the chair so he's looking out at the lonely bookshelves. He flexes his jaw and swivels back around. Hits refresh.

The thread of comments is gone. He blinks, confused. He doesn't think he was hallucinating—been a while, since he was that tired and drunk. But—oh—in its place, a single comment, under the brief conversation with the NIN kid:

rearviewmirror: Tell me if it's you.

Dean licks his lips. He closes out of the browser, picks up his notepad and keys. On the steps outside it's cold, cold, fucking cold, and this town is bleak. He walks down to the Impala, waiting there in the iced-over grey snow, and braces his hands on the hood, and blows out a long purling winter-dragon breath, and then fishes his phone out of his pocket. Another new phone, but he's got Sam's number memorized, and he almost calls before he chickens out. If it's not actually wanted—he imagines that conversation and he's just not constitutionally capable, right now, of facing how goddamn awkward it'd be.

He texts: It's me.

The response, after seconds: Where are you?

The shitty part of Utah. That's saying something. Easier, like this. Like it's not him kicking down a doorway right into Sam's head.

I don't have class tomorrow.

Could be random, if he didn't know who he was talking to. Dean leans his elbows on the hood of the car, looking at the little box of black-and-white text. He chews his lips and thinks. Before he can respond, another message:

I don't want to move on.

Dean tips his head enough that he's pressing the edge of the phone into his forehead. His fingers are cold. He sniffs, his nose dripping in the icy weather, and types, careful to make sure he gets it right: I'm nine hours away.

Less, if he goes over 100 in the boring parts of Nevada, and if he doesn't stop at all for a catnap.

Stop in Reno for a nap. You get weird when you drive all night. Text me when you're close.

Dean works his jaw, standing there in the cold. He's got nothing to do, for two days. He's got most of a tank of gas. He's got—nothing. Nothing. He gets in the car, and he drives.

It's only 9:30 when he gets to Reno. There were parts of Nevada where he drove very, very fast. He pulls into a truck stop, gets more gas and parks out near where the semis are lined up, the drivers early-birding the night away. Still cold here but less so. He twists around so his back's to the passenger door and looks out the driver window at the neon signs of the truck stop, the cars going in and out of the gas islands. He ate a little but his stomach was all twisted up and he couldn't get much down. A beer would go easier but he doesn't want to be drunk. Well. He does. This is insane. This is—completely stupid.

He pulls out his phone, looks at it. Dials and holds it to his ear, and it rings three times—long enough for him to change his mind four times—before there's an answer, and Sam's voice says, "Dean?"

His voice. Dean closes his eyes, tips his head back against the cold glass of the window. "Long time, no speak," Dean says. It feels rusty.

Sam's quiet for a second, on the other end. "Not really, though. Right?"

"I guess so. It's not the same." Dean listens to the little acknowledging sound Sam makes. There's silence again, for seconds that he counts—one and then two and then three. He listens to the cooling tick of the engine, through it, and then says, before he loses his nerve, "I shouldn't come. Right? This is nuts."

There's some noise, staticky. Like something passed over the mic on Sam's phone. After a beat, Sam says, "You should do what you want to do."

"Oh, should I," Dean says, and it comes out sarcastic, but he doesn't really mean it to be mean. Sam doesn't take the bait, staying quiet on the other end, and Dean opens his eyes again, watching a huge truck muscle past the gas island, watching the normal world go by. He rubs his eye. "I've been—it's been weird, Sam."

Understatement, but he doesn't know why he says it. That kind of stuff isn't for Sam to worry about.

"Go to sleep," Sam says, instead of responding. "An hour or something, just enough so you won't drive off the road. Text me when you're close."

Same thing he said before. "It'll be like three in the morning when I'm close," Dean says, and Sam says, "I'll be awake," and then the line disconnects, and Dean's left there alone again on the bench seat, but it—feels different.

He sort of sleeps, sort of doesn't. He's got a talent for going to bed wherever and whenever he has to—on spare tires and on forest floors and in a closet, once, with a propane tank as his pillow—but his brain won't shut up. He drifts in and out, for the hour Sam asked him for, and then he gets out of the car and goes into the 24-hour c-store and buys a big cup of coffee and a Hershey bar, and points the hood west, and follows the yellow dashed line home.

He texts from a gas station outside Sacramento. Sam texts back in less than a minute with an address. Dean glances at his map of California and responds: 45 minutes, and it's more like thirty when he pulls up to the—yeah, the motel, and he makes a sound that's sort of like a laugh except it doesn't feel like one. He turns into the parking lot and the headlights flash the building, and there, sitting on the sidewalk with his back to a pillar.

Dean parks. Sam has his arms folded over his knees, but he unfurls, stands. Dean gets out of the car and Sam's—jesus, ten feet away, his face totally visible under the streetlight. His hair's a little longer. "Did you get taller?" Dean says, and Sam huffs, his head ducking, and—fuck everything else, it's Dean's little brother, and he drags Sam into a hug, folding his arms over Sam's shoulders even if he has to lift on his toes a little to do it. Sam goes stiff for half a second, but he hugs back, and Dean turns his face in, Sam's hair in his nose like it always is, and feels him—warm, and safe. All Dean ever wanted for him, pretty much.

"You have to get the room," Sam says, when they pull apart. At Dean's eyebrows he shrugs, the corner of his mouth curled. "What? My scholarship doesn't include seedy rent by the hour stuff."

"Oversight much?" Dean says, but he goes in, and he gets a room. Two queens, because that's what the tired miserable little desk clerk says they have available. Means Dean doesn't have to think about other possibilities, and it means that when he dangles the keys off his finger and Sam half-smiles at him, when they've walked down the cold sidewalk side by side, when Dean opens the door and finds the different motel room, same as the first—Sam sits on one bed, and Dean sits on the other, and they look at each other, and it's like it's two years ago and they're just two kids, waiting for Dad to come home.

Sam is taller. Taller than Dean, now. His hair long enough to fall in his eyes, which it does constantly. Newish sneakers, and old jeans, and a hooded sweatshirt, and a denim jacket over the top of that. Not warm enough for the Bay in winter, but Dean bites his tongue before he says anything about it.

"How are your classes?" he says, instead.

Sam's cheek sucks in, like he's chewing it. After a second he says, "You don't want to talk about my classes, man." His head tips. "Anyway. You read about it, right."

It was a mistake not to stop for beer. Dean needs something to do with his hands. "Your algebra professor sounds like an asshole," he says.

Makes Sam smile before he ducks his head, looking down at his lap. "I thought—" He swallows, audibly. He shakes his head, his hair falling down and hiding his face. "Only reason I started posting again was that I wondered if you might still—if you'd check."

It's quiet, honest. Dean hasn't talked to Sam in person for half a year and he's off-balance. Expecting Sam to snark, to be dismissive, to roll his eyes. Small hours of the morning, maybe he's too tired not to be honest. Maybe he's growing up. Dean's not prepared for that.

Sam looks up at him when Dean's silent for too long. His teeth dig into the corner of his mouth and he drags his hand through his hair, gets it off his forehead. "I said I didn't want to move on. You know what I meant, right?"

Dean huffs. "Yeah, I'm not an idiot, Sam," he says, and Sam's eyes tighten. Dean leans back on his hands, tips his head back on his shoulders to look at the ceiling. "Thought this was the whole point of getting out. Getting away, making a whole new life. Being someone else."

"I'm still me," Sam says, unseen. "And it wasn't the whole point. I want a life. That part—whatever, that doesn't matter right now. But I never thought the other thing was going to go away."

He stands up, so Dean can see him. Dean looks at him down his nose, and Sam's—god. Tall. That keeps being his first thought. Tall, and maybe not a stranger, even if he's real damn strange. Sam steps closer, in the little space between the two beds, chewing his lip again. He's gonna make a sore there. "Dean," he says, and Dean raises his eyebrows in response. "You came."

"Yeah," Dean says, rueful. "Well. I'm Cindy Crawford."

Sam's face ripples—a frown, surprise—and then a huffed little laugh—and then he steps between Dean's knees and touches his chest, his jaw. Leans down, slow, telegraphing like they're practicing a fight, and Dean stays exactly where he is, leaned back on his hands, and Sam's mouth touches his—softly. Not hesitant. Dean lets his eyes close and feels it. Puff of air against his face as Sam lets out a tense breath and then another kiss, the damp inside Sam's lip catching against Dean's, and Dean kisses back then, reaching up and getting Sam's jaw, his jacket, fisting the denim and pulling Sam closer. There's a stagger—Sam's knee landing on the bed by Dean's hip, and Dean gets an arm around his lower back and kisses him again, tasting him. Salt, and when Dean kisses him again and presses his mouth open, licks inside, there's coffee-taste, Sam's tongue—slick, tentative—he stayed up, to wait for Dean—his kiss clumsier now, like he doesn't have much practice.

Dean pulls back a few inches. Sam's half-draped on him, his weight nearly in Dean's lap. His eyes are dark but big with surprise, like he didn't expect Dean to go with it. "Sammy," Dean says, and Sam—shudders, his hands closing hard around Dean's shoulders. Okay, Dean thinks, filing that away. He drags a thumb over Sam's jaw, where he's got a barely-there prickle of stubble. "What are we doing?"

Sam shakes his head, licks his lips. "This," he says, holding the side of Dean's neck. "This."

They peel Sam's jacket off, and then Dean's. Sam's still in that hoodie, soft black, and Dean gets his fingers just under the hem of it, barely grazing Sam's stomach, kissing him again—tangled up close on the edge of the bed, Sam's thigh slung over his. Sam keeps touching his face, his chest. His amulet, swinging forward between them when he urges Sam down to his back on the mattress, a knee between Sam's and his hand still there on Sam's belly. Sam grips the amulet and breathes out hot against Dean's face and lifts up for another kiss, which Dean gives him easy, and it's—god, it's good. The lights on, the room warm, Sam wanting underneath his hand. His mouth, slick and open, learning how to press back, how to give as good as he's getting. Dean kisses his cheekbone, his jaw, settles his hand flat on Sam's stomach to ground him, says, "Sammy, you've done this before, right?" Sam hitches breath, nods. Dean sorta laughs, lifts up so he can actually see Sam's expression. "More than once?"

"Twice," Sam says, and when Dean raises his eyebrows he frowns, vaguely indignant. "Jenny Morrison, just before graduation." He licks his lips. "And—a guy. After student orientation, here."

"Playing the field, huh?" Dean says. There's no reason it should make his stomach go molten hot. He rubs Sam's stomach, feels the rise of his breath. "You like it?" Sam nods, again. "What'd you do?"

Sam's cheeks are dark, brick-red. He licks his lips again and Dean ducks back in to kiss him, knocking his mouth open, tasting inside. Earns himself a small deep noise and Sam's hand sliding through his hair where it's too short to grab. He nudges Sam's nose and sits up, peeling off his overshirt. "C'mon. What'd you do? Didn't put that up on your journal, how am I supposed to know?"

"It was a rush party," Sam says, looking at him. He pulls his t-shirt off over his head, making sure his amulet stays put, and Sam blinks heavily, his lips parted. Jeez—it's weird. Hot. Sam wants him, Dean thinks, and it sends a rush of blood south. "He's—uh. Pre-med, smart."

"Not looking for his biography, Sammy," Dean says, and spreads his hands on Sam's hips, pushing up. The hoodie moves, the t-shirt underneath rucks up—Sam's pale here but still that faint all-over tan, darker than Dean's skin. He licks his lips. "What'd you do? Jerk each other off?"

Sam nods, again, his mouth open. God, Dean can imagine it. On some dorm-room bed, their heads leaned together, Sam's mouth open just like this—panting, his hand fumbling down—fuck, fuck it's hot, Sam nervous and into it and trying, making sure. "You liked it, huh?" Dean says, stroking his thumbs over Sam's bare belly.

"Yeah," Sam says, thin on not enough air, his knee drawing up. "But I—I thought about—when you kissed me—" and Dean kisses him again, groaning. Jesus, Sam's gonna kill him. Thinking about some shitty nervous freaked-out kiss when another guy's got his tongue in Sam's mouth. Sam grabs his shoulders, sits up, and Dean accommodates him easy, letting Sam touch him back—Sam's hands sliding down his chest, around to his ribs, grasping. "Dean," he says, panting.

"Let's get this off, huh?" Dean says, pulling, and Sam yanks the hoodie off in a second flat, his hair all ruffling up behind it. The shirt comes with it and there's just Sammy's bare smooth skin, that same pale tan all over. Small brownish nipples, slim muscles. His body. Dean dips and kisses his bare shoulder, licking there, biting, and Sam's nails dig into his ribs so he does it again, swinging a leg over so he's straddling Sam's lap, taking his time. He scrapes his teeth over the swell where Sam's collarbone dips into the arch of his trap, and Sam grips his neck, his back arching. He's hard. Shit, he's nineteen, he has to be hard. Dean slides his fingers down Sam's belly to his belt, tucking under the waist of his jeans, but Sam grips his wrist, then, groaning, saying—"Wait—wait—"

Dean drops his head to Sam's shoulder, groaning back. "We waited," he says, but Sam's hand is on his shoulder, pushing him back, making him look. "What?"

Sam's pink. "Have you—with a guy?" Dean rocks back but Sam's holding him close, looking all over his face. "Dean. Have you—"

"Yeah," Dean says, and watches Sam's ears go red. Sam doesn't need to know when, but it was all in the last year. Three dudes, hookups that were way too easy. They were good—turns out that Dean just likes sex, any way someone will give it to him—and he learned what it felt like to have a dick not his own in his hand, how it felt to slip a cock into his mouth and make a man groan. He hadn't thought about Sam while he was doing it, not really, but he's thinking about it now, and Sam's eyes have dropped, his lips between his teeth. Jealous? Dean smiles while Sam can't see and breaks Sam's hold on his wrist, and slides his hand down, and cups the crotch of Sam's jeans where he's swelling them out. Sam jerks, eyes flying open. "Means I know what I'm doing. Yeah?"

"Yeah," Sam breathes, and then it's—undoing his belt, and unzipping, and then—god, he's still got his sneakers on. Dean backs off and kicks off his boots, deliberately, and Sam blinks at him hot-eyed with his chest heaving and his jeans half-open looking like a friggin porno, but then he gets with the program, and the shoes thud to the shitty carpet and then they're practically racing, undressing, and when Dean kicks his boxers off to the side Sam's—naked, half on the bed, staring at him. Dean stares back, circling a hand around Sam's ankle. God, to look at him, in the lamplight. Long legs, hairier on the shins and lightly furred on the thighs, and a decent dark bush around a dick that's—jesus, that dick. Big, bigger than Dean's, bigger than—Dean licks his lips and looks up with an effort and Sam's staring right back at him, focused between his legs, his mouth parted. "Like what you see?" Dean says, and Sam doesn't answer, just reaches for him, and Dean crawls up the bed and settles on his elbow above Sam with their legs brushing bare, Sam's dick hot against his hip, and Sam kisses him with both hands on his face, his thigh dragging up against Dean's, his lips almost trembly.

Dean soothes a hand down Sam's ribs but Sam's—fuck. Shaking. They haven't even done anything. "Sammy," Dean whispers, between Sam's needing brief kisses, and Sam shakes his head and kisses him again and then ducks his head down, his nose brushing under Dean's jaw. Dean pulls Sam closer—tips, so they're on their sides—and pulls Sam's leg over his hip, pushes in, and—ah, shit, shit that feels good, Sam's big dick brushing in against his, dragging heavy and hot. "Oh," says Sam, small, and Dean slips his hand further and grips Sam's ass, the muscle tight and small—pulls in, and pulls again, encouraging, and Sam grips Dean's shoulder underhand tight enough to hurt but follows, pushing in with the rhythm Dean's urging. He's breathing fast, hot against Dean's throat, but he's got it—humping in, meeting Dean, making their dicks slide, his cockhead smearing wet against Dean's belly. Dean hums, kissing Sam's temple where he can just reach it, just enjoying the—insane way it feels. He lets Sam's ass go and Sam keeps going—good, good—and he licks his fingers sloppy, and reaches down between them, and for the first time he gets a grip on Sam's dick, feels the heft of it. Sam makes a sound like he's been shot and Dean says shh, easy, slicking his hand down to the base, squeezing hard as he pulls back up, and Sam makes another gulping strange sound, his thigh clutching hard around Dean's hip, his hand crushing Dean's lower back in closer. "That feel good?" Dean says, and Sam—comes. Fast, humping in, spurting up Dean's belly and his own, the slick getting all over Dean's dick, hot and wet, the sensation enormous. Dean squeezes him through it, knowing, and Sam humps in again and grabs his ass, nails digging in. Dean tips his head back, feeling it. God, it's good. Sam. His brother.

He swallows. His dick's throbbing, wanting more, feeling left behind. Sammy shudders and Dean licks his lips, pushes Sam back so his shoulders hit the bed. He flops—boneless, shocked—and Dean drags his hands over Sam's ribs, frames his hips. His dick is still big, flushed and wet, his balls clutched up high, and Dean licks his lips and says, "Okay," to no one, and leans down, and gets Sam's dick in his mouth.

A shock, Sam's body practically lifting off the bed. "What," he says, somewhere Dean can't see him—"What are you, oh—" and Dean thinks, oh, what if no one has done this? What if Jenny just opened her legs and she and Sam humped awkward and teenage in some backseat—what if pre-med only wiped his handful of Sam's jizz on the mattress and passed out—what if Dean's the first one, here, opening his jaw wide, careful of his teeth, slicking down, getting the whole fat length of it in his mouth. Only—he can't, fuck, Sam's too big. He fists the base, pulls off, spits and slicks the wet down. When he glances up Sam's up on his elbows, staring, and Dean grins at him, jerks it again, swallows. He can taste Sam's jizz, leftover from coming before. "Hang on," Dean says, and goes back down, letting the head bust his lips open, slicking tight down to his fist, dragging his tongue hard against the underside, suckling easy. Sam takes his statement as an order and grips his head, his shoulder, his hips cringing up into Dean's mouth, and Dean heaves in air, feels Sam firming up again, thick and needing and good.

He's only done this a few times but he—shit, he liked it. Likes it better the other way around, of course, but like this—his dick pressing into the bed, throbbing—Sam splitting open his mouth—yeah, it doesn't exactly suck. He bobs up and down, making sure to pay special attention to the soft ridge at the head, and Sam's making insane noises, now, up above him, petting his head and his shoulders and gripping, trying to shove up. Dean leans into his hip so he can't, fists his dick, pulls off gasping and licking his lips. Sam's still staring, down the length of his torso, and Dean jerks him through the goopy mess they're making—his spit, Sam's precome, what Sam's already come. "You like it?" Dean says, and Sam—rolls his eyes, the little shit.

"You're smug," Sam says, and Dean raises his eyebrows and says, "You're damn right I am," and lets Sam's dick go and goes down, down, no fist in the way until Sam's dick hits the back of his throat and he gags—breathes through it—slurps up with tight lips and then goes right back down, getting his throat used to it, learning the feel of this massive, awesome dick. Sam moans, pushes his hips up, and Dean lets him, rides it—lets Sam fuck up, lets him get a rhythm, like fucking—Sam, fucking his face—and Dean reaches down between his own legs and fists his own dick, finally, groaning in relief and making Sam shudder as the vibration rumbles through Dean's open throat. Sam grips his head with both hands, holding him down, and Dean drags in air through his nose and holds there, filled up with Sam and choking, spit flooding out of his open mouth—the world dark and just Sam's taste, his smell—and Sam makes a little sound—and Dean grunts and lifts off, breaks Sam's hold and crawls up his body, straddling his hips and dragging his dick against where Sam's is all sloppy-hot, dripping wet. Sam gasps up at him and grabs his hips, his ass, fucking up into him, and Dean grips both their dicks in two hands, fucking into the tight wet channel he's making for them both, and Sam pulls at his ass, spreading it, rocking his hips to help, moaning and looking helpless up into Dean's face, and Dean leans down and breathes against him and Sam still comes first, creaming them both, his dick flexing and twitching in Dean's grip, and Dean braces one slick hand on the bed and fists himself seriously, jerking fast, and Sam moans and kisses his jaw and pulls at his ass with those big hands, his fingers slipping low, dipping—and Dean jerks and spills, his belly seizing, his thighs clamping around Sam's hips, Sam's lips open and dragging wet against his throat, his fist gripping the bedspread so hard that his fingers cramp.

Sam's stroking his hips, repetitive and soft, when he's done panting. Dean swallows, shifts his weight. He's slumped on top of Sam, his face buried in Sam's shoulder. Wet between them, sliding, and he releases his dick and slips his sticky hand out, bracing on the bed enough to get some air between them. When he lifts up Sam's eyes are half-closed, but he focuses on Dean's face right away, and his hands stop their stroking and just squeeze, warm and tight. "You okay?" Sam says.

"My line," Dean says, and Sam rolls his eyes again, squeezes again. Dean sits up more but Sam doesn't let go. "C'mon, we should clean up."

Sam's eyes tighten, just barely. He sits up, keeping his grip on Dean, and Dean rocks back but doesn't tip over. He gets a hand on Sam's shoulder to keep his balance and Sam says, steady, "Don't freak. Okay?"

"Who's freaking?" Their dicks are still pressed wetly together, though Dean's basically soft, now. Sam's still plump, thick. He swallows. "C'mon, we're gonna get cemented together," he says, and Sam's mouth purses but his grip goes light, and it gives enough room that Dean can lift off, get his feet under him. Jesus, there's enough jizz on him that it's rolling down his belly—he claps a hand to it before it can drop, smearing it over his abs. "You come like a geyser, dude," he says, not really complaining, but Sam's cheeks are red when he looks back up, and he feels—shit. He doesn't know.

He goes to the bathroom. Fluorescent light, pink-painted sink. He wets one of the five-cent washrags and wipes himself up, and he's not turned on anymore so his thought is mainly that it's just gross, and that bed's going to be wrecked, and also, what is he doing. What is he doing.

Sam's hand appears, reaching around him. He jumps. In the mirror behind him, Sam's tall, looking over his shoulder. Looking at Dean, even as he wets the other rag, cleans himself up. Dean chews the inside of his lip and can't really turn away. Sam's got red marks on his shoulder, where Dean was biting him.

"Stay," Sam says. He tosses his wet rag back into the sink and settles his hands on Dean's biceps, squeezing. When he steps forward his dick presses into the small of Dean's back and his chest is warm, damp. "Tomorrow at least. We've got the room. Stay."

"You want your dick sucked again?" Dean says, and that time it is mean and he did kind of mean it to be, and Sam's eyelids dip and his jaw clenches, but he only slips his hands away from Dean's arms to his ribs, holding him. It feels… Dean shakes his head. "Sam," he says, but there's not really anything that can go after it.

A big hand slides up and over, flattening on his breastbone. "It's not just this," Sam says, meeting Dean's eyes in the mirror, and it makes Dean's cheeks go hot.

He covers Sam's hand with his. He shivers, for some reason. He says, "I should take a shower, I've been in the car all day," and Sam says, "Okay," and Dean takes a shower and Sam sits on the closed toilet, watches him through the clear curtain. Gives him a towel when he comes out. Takes his hips, when he's dry, and presses him to the tiled wall, and tips his head up, and kisses him clean.

Five in the morning, or later. There's a clean bed and Dean hasn't slept in a day. He lays down and Sam lays down with him, a few inches away until Dean relents and turns over, and Sam curls up behind him, holding on, his mouth against Dean's shoulder. There's going to be a call from Dad, at some point. Dean's going to have to meet him somewhere, because there's going to be something bad that needs killing. He can't stay. He's wired and tired, all at once.

"Sleep," Sam says, and Dean turns his head against the pillow, knows he will.

"Hey," he says, and Sam makes a quiet noise. "If you put this on your journal, maybe bloodofreptile will finally shut up about you getting laid all the time."

"His name is Dennis," Sam says, and Dean laughs, weirdly glad. Dennis. Yeah, that fits. "And this isn't going on the internet."

"Probably a good idea," Dean says, and Sam says, again, "Dude, go to sleep," and Dean tips back into Sam's warmth, and does, and it's the best sleep he's gotten in a year.

[thevioletjones]

Congrats on the kudos, u deserve it! I did not undestand if I'm supposed to choose one of the lines for the prompt or if I have to combine two or more lines lol. But if it is to choose only one: number 5. If more than one: 5 and 45. *---*

Thank you! I used both. Great inspiration, actually. It spun out of control! 😀

Prompt 2: “How much of that did you hear?” + “Why are you helping me?”

Interloper

“Jesus, Iggy, I’m gonna fuckin’ murder you myself one of these days,” Mickey threatened in exasperation.

They were both leaning over, hands on knees, gasping for air, just having run full-speed for at least twelve blocks. The pillars beneath the L tracks were now providing the mild seclusion they needed to wait out a cursory police search of the area.

“Ain’t my fault!” Iggy exclaimed defensively.

Mickey’s face scrunched up to a degree that only his dumbest family members could make it reach. “Yes it fuckin’ was! Who else’s fault would it be?”

He’d always kind of wondered how he was the only one in his crap-ass family to be gifted with at least half a brain. Well, him and his younger sister, Mandy. She was alright. Skanky and crazy, but not a total idiot. He couldn’t say the same for his brothers, male cousins, father, uncle, etcetera. Mickey couldn’t even get his begrudgingly favorite brother to follow a simple goddamn plan that would’ve kept them out of trouble when they were out committing crimes. He was just gonna have to start doing everything himself. Safety in numbers didn’t apply when the other member of your team seemed to have been lobotomized when no one was paying attention. It was probably all the meth. Mickey was smart enough to stay away from that particular bullshit. Didn’t want to become a scabby, denture-wearing, toothpick skinny, low-life with no mind left to lose. He was content to stick to coke and weed like a normal person.

“That old bitch came outta nowhere! Self-defense!”

“It ain’t self-defense if you’re robbin’ the joint, numbnuts! We’re lucky you fuckin’ missed!”

If he had it his way, Mickey wouldn’t be doing these petty robberies anymore. He much preferred bigger jobs, like gun and drug running. But times were tough, and he had to do what he had to do. He’d even considered getting a legit job for once in his life, but the skills he possessed weren’t exactly easily adaptable to the straight and narrow path. Being a criminal was how he was raised, and all he knew. It brought heat, but it was still a comfortable fit. Living without the constant presence of major risk would probably feel so foreign as to drive him crazier than a meth addiction in the long run.

The job Mickey’d lined up involved hitting up a few different borderline upmarket stores that’d opened up in their neck of the woods since the gentrifiers had set upon The Yards, then selling the goods to a guy he knew in the online black market trade. Not as lucrative as heavy metal and funny powder, but a decent payday nonetheless. Except fuckface over here who had to ruin everything by getting trigger-happy on Main while they were attempting to heist merchandise from location number two of three. If the pigs nabbed either one of them, they’d be going down for at least five to ten. Years. Mickey was done donating years to the prison industrial complex. The most he could afford was months at best.

“When’d you turn into such a giant asshole?” asked Iggy. “Oh, nevermind, probly when you started gettin’ it railed on the reg.”

A giant smile stretched across his perpetually dirty face, causing Mickey’s eyebrows to lift dangerously high on his forehead. Occasionally, his dumber-than-rocks older brother managed to think up some admittedly clever asides. Mickey didn’t know whether to punch him or give him daps.

Before he could decide, however, he heard a distinct little snicker from the other side of the large concrete column they were leaning on, raising his hackles to invisibly join his eyebrows in their heightened incredulity.

Mickey hastily rounded the pillar and grabbed the giggler by the shirt collar, hauling him to their side and pinning him next to Iggy with his forearm. He looked into the guy’s eyes, and finally registered who it was. He kinda sorta knew him from around town. Used to hang out with his sister back in high school. He was a lot scrawnier then. This version of the dude could probably hold his own with Mickey in a fight. He’d built some definite muscle.

“How much of that did you hear, asshole?” Mickey demanded, seeing Iggy flash the gun in his waistband in his periphery.

This idiot didn’t look as rattled as he should be, though. He just shrugged his shoulders.

“Considering I was here first, I guess… all of it?”

He was wearing an annoying little smirk, his green-blue eyes shining bright, and his red hair distracting Mickey as much as the light dusting of freckles across his nose and cheeks. He had a stupidly ultra-defined chin, and Mickey immediately hated it. His chin hadn’t looked like that when he was a 15-year-old pipsqueak.

“Wipe that smile off your face, bitch,” ordered Mickey, pressing his arm harder against the guy’s pale throat. “You think this is fuckin’ funny? You know who we are?”

The guy shrugged again, like this was all a casual conversation on the corner. “Mickey.” He glanced at his dumb, blonde, curlicue brother. “And Iggy, right? I used to hang out with Mandy all the time. Have a good memory.”

“Yeah? Well I remember your goofy ass too, Gallagher. I know where you live and I know who your family is, so if you know what’s good for you, you’ll keep your big mouth shut or I’ll pick ‘em off one by one and save you for last. Got it?”

The dude snorted, and Mickey wondered if he was some kind of crazy tweaker with no sense of propriety or self-preservation.

“You outta your goddamn mind or somethin’?” Mickey added. “I ain’t jokin’.”

“Look, Gallaghers don’t snitch, alright?” He held his hands up placatingly. “I promise not to say shit to anyone. It’s none of my business, and I really don’t care. That good enough for you?”

Mickey loosened his hold, but sized him up all the while. “Maybe. But it’s possible you need a little lesson to remember it good. Wouldn't want you to forget about the consequences of you breakin’ your word.”

The dude winced and shoved Mickey off. “I don’t need a fucking beatdown, Mickey. I get it.”

“Ohhhh,” Mickey singsonged derisively, meeting Iggy’s gaze. “He gets it.” He thumbed his eyebrow. “Guess I’m just s’posed to believe you, huh?”

“That would be ideal, yeah.”

Mickey had to give it to him; he almost cracked a smile. The kid had balls. Most people around their neighborhood cowered before a Milkovich like spring lambs. Still, he lived by a code, and letting some rando walk away unscathed when he had dirt on him just didn’t fit the rules.

He cocked his fist back to knock it into tall, pale, and red’s pearly white teeth, just as the stunted siren of a cop car rang out very close by. Their collective heads all snapped toward the sound, and after sharing a meaningful look between brothers, Iggy took off running once again, without a word.

Normally, Mickey would’ve followed hot on his heels, but some unknown force was keeping his useless feet stuck to the dirty ground, eyes watching as Gingerballs glanced around the column at the flashing lights, taking a very long look that wasn’t suspicious at all.

Before he could react outwardly, Mickey was pulled against a hard body, Gallagher’s warm breath sending a shiver down his spine as he whispered, “Be cool. I got you.”

Suddenly, big hands were caressing Mickey’s back, and despite a part of him not minding in the least, the rest of him stiffened considerably.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he rasped out, hearing the telltale slam of a car door, and attempting to pull away. But a strong grip held him close, spinning him around so that he was the one up against the concrete now.

“Saving your thug ass. I know this guy, okay? Just chill and follow my lead.”

Okay, what the hell was this surreal turn of events? Gallagher was bold as shit, cradling Mickey all gay like. Sure, Iggy had made a fag joke earlier, kicking off this whole… whatever it was, but still. This guy had no way of knowing it was based in reality. Did he?

And had Gallagher really been gay this whole time? How had Mickey never sniffed this scorching information out?

“What’s going on here, boys?”

The copper rounded the corner, genuinely swinging his nightstick like a cartoon character, and Mickey had to suppress a deep roll of his eyes.

“Milkovich?” Mr. CPD continued, extreme disbelief coloring his voice.

Mickey was abruptly reminded that he was currently stuck between a rock and a hard body, and nothing about their entanglement screamed anything other than gay, gay, super-fucking-gay. Not that Mickey hadn’t come to accept who he was and what he liked, but he didn’t go around spreading the truth all over town either. This could seriously damage his carefully crafted reputation.

“Tony!” Ian interjected, sparing him from having to invent some lame excuse, and the cop’s eyes snapped to him instead.

“Ian?” His tone was still dripping with astonishment.

“Yeah! What's up? How you been?”

Mickey shot him an ‘are you goddamn serious right now?’ look, and Ian just squeezed his hip in tacit reply.

“Uhhh… gooood? Care to explain whatever…” he waved his stick between them, “this is?”

Ian laughed and he figured the dude truly was a nutcase. Mickey was going to jail for sure.

“Um, well,” answered Ian, suddenly playing it very meek and demure, “Mickey and I were just… you know…”

“You and… Mickey?”

“Not fucking or anything! Just... hanging out?”

“Hanging out.”

“Yeah, you know how it is. I’m tryin’ to convince Mick here to come home with me, but he’s being squirrelly.” He shook his head and shrugged. “South Side guys.”

“What the fuck?” Mickey whispered harshly, completely taken aback.

Ian just squeezed him tightly again, which was not helping his whole brain scramble situation.

“Huh,” said Tony, a tone of acceptance seeping in. “Mickey Milkovich, eh? Wow.”

“Come on, Tony. I don’t have to tell you this is all a big secret, do I?” replied Ian.

“And blondie who ran away like there was a damn fire? Did he flee a threesome?”

Mickey frowned and fake-wretched, finally speaking up. “Fuck no, man. That was my dumbass brother. He don’t like cops.”

“Uh huh. And you and your brother didn’t happen to be getting into trouble about 15 minutes ago, did you?”

“No sir,” Mickey said with a mock salute.

Ian kicked at his foot in warning.

“He’s been with me since like 3 o’clock, Tone. Scout’s honor.”

Officer Tony eyed them both with a look of skepticism, but didn’t contradict Ian’s word. The CB sounded from the open window of the black and white, with some cop-speak crackling over the airwaves.

“Stay put,” said Tony, eyes lingering longer on Mickey’s than Ian’s. “Both of you.”

He retreated to answer the radio call, and Mickey let out a deep whoosh of air.

“Goddamn, Gallagher. You’re spinnin’ quite a yarn here.”

“Yep,” Ian agreed. “A big gay yarn.”

“How the fuck did you know—”

“That you’re gay? Well, I heard Iggy make that joke, obviously. Pretty specific bottom joke to make if you weren’t actually into it. Plus, I always had my suspicions.”

Mickey scoffed. “Yeah fuckin’ right!”

“I did!”

“Whatever. Why are you helping me?”

“Out of the kindness of my heart?”

“Try again.”

“I don’t know. Why not? Makes us even or something. Now you know I won’t rat you out. About any of it. I wouldn’t out someone like that, and I don’t give a shit about the illegal crap you’re wrapped up in. Tony Markovich is like turbo gay too. Used to bang my sister, I think, but he came out a couple years ago. He won’t let it slip about you. He’s not a total bastard just cuz he’s a cop, ya know?”

Mickey bit his lip in contemplation. Gallagher seemed pretty genuine. Still didn’t much make sense in his brain, but whatever.

“Fine. But you know what’s gonna happen if—”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, kick my ass, kill my family, got it.”

“You’re a cocky little shit, ain’t you?”

Ian smirked again, and it was pretty sexy, actually. “Maybe.”

He had the gall to push against Mickey more fully, pressing the bottom halves of their bodies closer together.

Mickey gasped. “Gonna have to ask you again… what the hell do you think you’re doin’?”

“You wanna go out sometime?”

Mickey cackled in his face. “You’re off your fuckin’ rocker for sure.”

“Am not! I can tell you want me.”

“Oh, Jesus Christ. Cocky little shit doesn’t even begin to cover it, does it?”

“Come onnnn,” Ian prodded.

“Do I look like I date, Gallagher?”

“A date can be whatever we want it to be, Milkovich. I’m easy.”

“Yeah, I bet you are.”

“Okay,” Tony interrupted, coming back into view. “Get the hell outta here. You wanna bang, do it indoors somewhere, or I’ll have to arrest you for public indecency or worse. And Milkovich… if I find any evidence of what I’m sure you know I’m talking about, I’ll be paying your ass a visit real soon.”

Mickey let the eyeroll loose then, withholding a flip of his middle finger, and deadpanning instead, “Don’t know what you’re talkin’ about, officer.”

Tony sighed loudly. “Whatever.”

“Thanks, Tony!” Ian cried at his retreating back.

“You always kiss cop ass like that? Cuz that’s not the way to get into my pants, Red.”

Ian just grinned, finally pulling his body away as he looked around. “You gonna follow me home or what?”

Mickey wanted to tell him to go fuck himself and swagger away like a badass. But was he not a thirsty man being propositioned by a hot guy who just randomly saved his ass from a trip to the slammer?

He at least feigned protest, huffing and puffing as he kicked at the dirt. “Goddamn it, Gallagher, you drive a hard bargain.”

Ian’s face lit up like a Christmas tree, as Mickey added, “Lead the way, weirdo.”

[daydream-believin]

Sure Took You Long Enough, Babe

Summary: (wlw) Reader pulls an all-nighter with coworker Zoe

Warnings: swearing, alcohol, uh i think i remember mentioning people doing drugs, that trademark wlw obliviousness

Word Count: 4374

a/n: g-g-gorlfren... *slaps roof of fic* this baby can fit so many gay fantasy tropes in it. yes, the bars in cali stay open till 4am idk

Your alarm blared it’s cheery tune, startling you awake. Strangely enough, the happy melody never inspired happiness, just rage. Yet, ever the eager beaver, you shot right up and slammed the button as you slid out of bed, not allowing yourself to dilly-dally. As much as you’d like to stay asleep for three more hours at the least, you forced yourself into a good start for the day. Today was the first day of your new part-time job at Hextech, and lucky you, you got the morning shift. Curse of being fresh meat, you supposed. As long as you could make it through the day without getting too terribly hazed, you’d be fine.

Back home in Arcadia Oaks for the summer, you’d needed a new job or you’d go crazy. What were you supposed to do? Relax? Nah. You’d start taking double shifts as soon as you could. It was a bit tricky finding somewhere that would be a good fit for you. Okay, that was a lie. It was a bit tricky finding somewhere that would even be willing to hire you, apparently. Really knocked your pride down a few pegs.

By a strike of fortune, you had been catching up with one of your old high school buddies over coffee yesterday. You know, the one you used to hang out in the graveyard and practice tarot reading with? Yeah, Evan. It was nice to be able to talk to someone who was just as excited as you were that My Chemical Romance was back. When you two ordered, he pulled out that old joke about taking his coffee black like his soul and it still made you laugh as much as it did in high school. Evan was doing good, new boyfriend, new job, new band. You felt happy for your friend. You were happy that he was happy. He deserved it.

After you’d lamented that you couldn’t find work, he told you about how lately he’d been working for that electronic store Hextech. Not subtly named, was it? He’d told you about how it was run by hedgewizards like you two. They only hired through connections, since they were a magical company run by magical people. You, thankfully, had one of those connections. Your buddy put in a good word for you and, just like that, you were in. They put you on the schedule crazy fast. Like, the first shift of the very next day fast. Good. You were going out of your mind having so much free time. Your relatives were starting to ask you *shutter* questions about your personal life.

You looked in the mirror, slicked back your hair into a neat style, and admired how you looked in your new work shirt. Of course, it would eventually join the trophy quilt of old work shirts you were making, but for now it was nice and new. A pretty baby blue, it will go well sewed next to the royal blue Domino’s shirt from last semester. You added about a dozen earrings to your ears as a finishing touch and headed downstairs. After downing your coffee and hastily scarfing down a still-warm blueberry muffin, you kissed your grandmother’s cheek goodbye as you headed out the door. You tossed a crumpled muffin to the crows waiting by the front door. The greedy bastards inhaled every crumb. As much as you loved having a job again, the sun was still asleep when you started your walk to work. Fuck that.

As you walked through the door at Hextech, you were astonished to see the absolute angel who was waiting there for you. An absolute angel who looked kinda hungover, actually. Well, it was 6 AM on a Sunday. The doors didn’t actually open to customers until seven, but you were here at the ass-crack of dawn so she could train you some before throwing you to the customer wolves. Said pink-haired angel introduced herself as Zoe. What a fitting name for someone as cute and feisty as her. You had to catch yourself from staring too much into her striking blue eyes, that reminded you of lightning, pure electricity, before she caught you. And really, they were distracting. It was hard to focus on what she was telling you, which was a bad thing since she was giving you vital information. You forced yourself to focus. As much as you could.

After going over the ropes of working the wizard-bar, she took you through a cool hidden door to show you around the back. The back had such wonderful rooms as the kitchen that someone microwaved fish in yesterday, workrooms, one of which had a poor guy who looked like her never left last night, tinkering away at some techy-thing, the room Zoe introduced as the room she went to scream in, and a common-room type thing with a sick floor to ceiling screen (or was it a window?), depicting a soothing nature scene. She told you that after you had been working in the front for a while and proved yourself, your bosses would move you up to the repairs and phone troubleshooting. Maybe even invention if you were talented enough. That filled you with dread, despite the inspiration it was supposed to be. You had to admit, you knew almost nothing about the technical/repairs side of electronics and you did not belong here. You were more of a coding/hacking type of hedgewizard. You’d have to fake it till you make it. You were sure Zoe could tell you were bullshitting through this, but thankfully she was gracious enough not to call you out on it. Although, you didn’t mind that impish grin that found it’s place on her face.

Damn. You did not need to get involved with a coworker. No matter how enchanting she was. Or how pretty. This was just a summer job. You would be moving back across California for school soon enough and you were not going to do long-distance again. Although, is a few hours really that long? Definitely not as long as your last relationship. Shut up shut up shut up. No. You don’t even know if this chick is into girls, don’t get ahead of yourself. Mmm, she is very pretty though. You can admire from afar. What’s the harm in that?

There was much, much harm. Stars, you had it bad. You had only been at Hextech for a month now and it felt like hell. Perhaps it was hell. Maybe you were dead, and this was your eternal punishment. Damned to forever pine after the loveliest wizard you had ever met. She took a liking to you instantly too, inviting you out for drinks that first night, and every weekend after that. And she’d invited you over to her place for movie nights and to hang out with her friends. Some nights she’d take you to go dancing with her. She’d taken to calling you Baby. Perfectly normal things for gals being pals right. You guessed this is what girl besties do. You wouldn’t know, you’d only ever really hung with guys. Really feminine goth guys, sure, but guys nonetheless. She seemed hellbent on spending time with you. Not that you were complaining, but it just made your emotions stronger. And harder to shove back into the abyss.

~ ~ ~

One Friday night, you two were just chilling up in your bedroom. A rest before one of coworker’s birthday party tomorrow night. Zoe was telling you that she really wanted to try out a new makeup technique. And you told her she could try it out on you. The joy that painted itself across her features is something that will be burned into your memory forever. But not as high a degree of burn as what came next. Zoe straddled your waist, eyeliner pen in hand, and pushed you back against the headboard so she could better reach your eyes. Your breath caught in your throat. You were helpless to do anything but stare at her face that was in super close proximity to yours. You were caught in a trance as you obeyed when she told you to do this or that so she could properly apply the makeup. Her pink lips were pursed in concentration, and her pink banged strayed into her face. Her signature pink style matched the pink of your cheeks. You were sure she could feel your heart pounding, her elbows were on your chest, basically. She moved on to eyeshadow. Weird, you were always an eyeshadow first kinda person but who were you to critique this goddess’s methods. As she rolled on the perfectly matching lipstick onto your lips, you couldn’t help but think about this being an indirect kiss. This lipstick has been all over her lips and now it’s on yours? Stars.

Once she was finished with her masterpiece, she leaned back to take a good look at it. You felt the heat blaze under your skin as her blue eyes scanned your face. Finally, she seemed satisfied and nodded. Zoe helped you up and you went to go check it out in the mirror hanging on your wall. It was brightly colored, garish even, yet perfect, in your opinion. Like Zoe’s personality distilled into something you could wear. She crept up behind you and put her hands on your shoulders as you both admired her skills.

“My best work yet if I do say so, Y/n,” She grinned like a Cheshire cat, “Hmm, I know it’s already like, 3 in the morning and we’re supposed to be relaxing, but we should go and show this off.”

You both had a shift in four hours but you didn’t know how to say no to those eyes. “Alright, Zo,”

You grabbed your jackets on the way out, careful not to wake any of the other inhabitants of the house, but unable to keep the giggles in. Zoe had thought it would be fun to swap jackets, and you weren’t going to say no to that. Her jacket was cozy, black leather, and smelled of her rosy perfume. You never wanted to take it off. When you put it on, her eyes lingered on your form, commenting how good it made you look. You were very thankful for the cover of darkness that hid your flush, rosy like her perfume. You thought she looked marvelous in yours too, but you weren’t as brave in order to say that out loud.

Suddenly you were in some club across town, being introduced to Zoe’s friend Mimi who was working the bar that night. Mimi looked you up and down, then cocked her brows and clicked her tongue, while nodded to Zoe? Who turned pink and angrily said something under her breath to her friend. You couldn’t make out what she said over the music, you were too busy trying not to put too much weight on this interaction. Telling your heart to stop jumping. Jumping just gets you hurt. Mimi snickered as she scurried off to the other side of the bar to fix up your drinks after Zoe finished her rant. She turned back to you and laughed nervously, leaning on the bar.

“That Mimi. What a card.” You nodded in response, not sure what to say.

You three chatted while you sipped at your drinks. Zoe had ordered you something fruity, sweet, and vibrantly colored. It was very tasty, whatever it was. Must have had a high percentage because your head was already fuzzy with just this one. You stopped after finishing it, not fancying being drunk at work, but Zoe got another. Her alcohol tolerance was way stronger than yours. You fucking lightweight. Mimi had started cleaning up since the bar closed soon. Zoe grabbed your hand unexpectedly.

“How about we dance until we get kicked out, Babe?” She said with a sparkle in her eye.

“Uh- y- yeah,” was all you managed to get out before she pulled you over to the dance floor. It was almost vacant, since it was nearing 4am and most people had either moved on for the night, passed out on one of the club’s couches, or were getting their fix in the bathroom. Nice. It was like the floor was just for you two. Zoe was really jazzed, spinning you around to whatever trashy party song was playing. It was infectious. Her energy, not the song. You were having a lot of fun with the pink girl dancing with you. She tossed her hair back laughing at one point. Right then and there, you decided to throw all those things stopping you out the window. If you missed her come fall, you’d just drive the trip to see her. It would be worth it.

The other trio of people who had been dancing left, and now it really was just you two. It would have felt like just you two even if the floor was full. As the current song ended, the DJ looked at you in sympathy. “Alright guys, this is the last song okay, we close in ten.” He switched it to a Viper song.

“OH! I love this song!” Zoe’s smile got even bigger. You didn’t know that was possible. Somehow, she got an energy boost too. You had completely no idea how the firecracker you were with could stay lit well into the morning. If it wasn’t for your manic pixie dream girl here, you’d be groggy by now. She flittered around you, having a blast. It was adorable. She mouthed the words of the song to you, which would have been rather cute if they hadn’t been considerably sexual lyrics. You felt that blush come back for the umpteenth time that night. And she had that impish grin plastered across her face again, like she knew what she was doing. Zoe had gotten closer to you as the song winded down, you hadn’t noticed until it faded out altogether. Your eyes were wide. She booped your nose, giggling. You blinked, surprised. You felt your heart squeeze at how fucking cute that was.

She took your hand again as she pulled you over to go give Mimi a quick hug goodbye before you two left. You still had two and a half hours to kill until your shifts started at six thirty. Zoe’s favourite coffee house wouldn’t be open until five. As much as a nap sounded good right now, you both knew that it would just make you sleepier. And grumpier from being woken up after such a short time. Might as well pull out an old goth kid staple.

“Wanna go hang around in the graveyard?”

~ ~ ~

Zoe tossed her head back laughing so hard she hit the gravestone she was leaning against.

“Oof, you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” She rubbed her head and turned back to look check the name on the engraving, “Sorry Howard.”

“It’s too late, he’s offended now and he’s gonna haunt us,” you snickered, “Nice going, Zo.”

“Don’t worry Baby, I’ve been working on my exorcism skills. You know, since a certain dumbass brought spirits into the party last week.” Ah, Douxie, what a guy. Of course he hadn’t meant to ruin everyone’s night and release those ghosts. It just sort of happened. He was accident prone and you didn’t understand why people trusted him with cursed stuff like that to begin with. Luckily, within the number of wizards gathered, you guys were eventually able to find a way to banish all the spirits before any real harm came of it. It wasn’t a bad way to spend a Friday night. You got to live out your childhood dream of being a ghostbuster.

You looked around. The cemetery wasn’t as spooky as most people thought it was. Sure, there were strange noises, and endless headstones with disembodied names that meant nothing, and creepy mausoleums that cast big shadows in the moonlight, and a creaky gate that swung back and forth whether there was wind or not, but it wasn’t scary. Well, maybe that was just because you’d spent most nights of your teen years here, so you were desensitized to it. Zoe didn’t seem to mind it one bit either.

You glanced up and saw three of your crow friends on the top of the mausoleum across from you and Zoe. If crows could smirk these would be smirking. Fuckers. They were always around whenever you’d go out with Zoe. Watching so they could tease you later. Damn nosy birds. Why did you ever start feeding them. They were even there in a set of three, just to mock you. They may as well be singing “Y/n and Zoe sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G!”

You ignored the crows, pulling out your phone and flipping to your ebook app. Because you know what would make this just like old times? Some dramatic goth poetry. What a way to woo a girl. Zoe was fond of the idea of some poetry reading too. She told you that you could pick. At first you thought to read some Poe, perhaps starting with ‘Serenade’, but decided against it lest the bastards on the roof started demanding you read them ‘the Raven’. It’s happened before. You settled on some Keats instead. And you knew the perfect poem. A poem you could put all your emotions into. The most sapphic poem ever written by a man, in your opinion. If she didn’t feel the same, you could always deny it and say that you were just getting way into character. Either way it was going to make work weird, but you didn’t think you gave a fuck anymore. Here goes nothing.

“Had I a man’s fair form, then might my sighs

Be echoed swiftly through that ivory shell

Thine ear, and find they gentle heart; so well

Would passion arm me for the enterprise:” You took a big gulp of air. Zoe’s gaze was locked on you, and that didn’t make this any less nerve-wracking. You could feel your hands shaking. “But ah! I am no knight whose foreman dies;

No cuirass glistens on my bosom’s swell;

I am no happy shepherd of the dell

Whose lips have trembled with a maiden’s eyes.” With those words, a sudden burst of boldness in your heart caused you to take her hand. Must be the alcohol. Yes, that which hath made them drunk hath made you bold. Zoe didn’t appear to be breathing anymore. You looked back into her electric blue eyes. “Yet must I dote upon thee, --call thee sweet,

Sweeter by far than Hybla’s honied roses

When steeped in dew rich to intoxication

Ah! I will taste that dew, for me ‘tis meet,” Your voice became breathy as you uttered these last verses. “And when the moon her pallid face discloses,

I’ll gather some by spells, and incantation.” You just froze there, breathing. The ball was in Zoe’s court now. Speak of the devil, she was really close, like really close. When did she get so close. You hadn’t realized. She lifted a finger to your face and brushed a loose strand of hair behind you ear. Your breath caught in your throat. She drew closer, your noses touching now. Her eyes slipped down into a half lid. Your eyes flicked to her lips and she watched you. It occurred to you that she was waiting for you to close the gap. So you did.

It was fireworks. Of course, you were kissing a firecracker herself. It was a sweet kiss, but laced with that fire. You both pulled back for air, but quickly returned to each other’s lips. Zoe’s hands drifted down to your hips and she pulled you into her lap, leaning back up against that headstone. And now you were snogging in the cemetery. Mary Shelley would be proud. Howard, however, was probably pissed off for sure now.

Your breaths mingled as you gasped for air. Zoe caressed your cheek, cupping your face. She chuckled, “It sure took you long enough, Babe. I was starting to think I’d have to spell it out for you.”

You all but collapsed back into her arms, exasperated. Stars, it sure did take you long enough, didn’t it. You could hear and feel Zoe’s snort through her chest. You raised back up to gaze into those baby blues. A pang of adoration shot through your heart like one of cupid’s cursed arrows.

“How about I buy coffee, for our first official date?” Zoe agreed to your offer. You got off of her, legs wobbling like a baby deer. Speaking of deer, you were happy to see that the herd that usually hangs out here in the graveyard in the early hours was peacefully grazing around you two. You hadn’t noticed them come in, too busy snogging. You reached out a hand and helped Zoe up. You two brushed the grass off your clothes and gave one last apology to Howard before setting off for the coffee shop. Zoe checked her phone for the time. It was 5:23, you two still had almost a full hour to spend lounging in the coffeeshop before you had to head off to Hextech. Zoe reached for your hand as you walked back to Zoe’s bike. You threaded your fingers together. Something as small as that shouldn’t have felt as nice as it did. But it did.

You completely adored riding on the back of Zoe’s motorcycle. You got to cling to her, arms around her waist, pretending that you were holding her for romantic reasons and not so you wouldn’t fall off a moving automobile. You wouldn’t have to just pretend any longer now. The thought made you giddy. And now that you think about it, that was probably why Zoe had insisted on giving you rides everywhere for the past month. You were so fucking oblivious. It was painful. Thank the stars above she was patient with you. You snuggled further into her back, inhaling that rosy perfume. It truly was intoxicating, Keats. A girl could get used to this.

~ ~ ~

The coffee house barista recognized you two as you walked in and started making your orders that he had memorized. He greeted you cordially as you handed over the cash. He looked down at Zoe’s hand joined with yours, raising his eyebrows teasingly but not saying anything. Did everyone in this fucking town know about you two before you did? You think you might have beaten that Parisian catboy at his own game. How embarrassing.

Zoe got cozy on you guy’s usual couch while you carried over the coffee. After you set the mugs on the coffee table and plopped down, Zoe swung her legs up onto the couch, and over your lap. Didn’t exactly take you by surprise. Zoe often sat like this. You were used to it. Wait, was this also flirting? Stars, you didn’t even know anymore. This was so confusing. She noticed the face journey you had taken with the internal struggle, and grinned, shrugging her arm around your shoulders to ease you. You snatched your cup of the table and downed as much as you could handle before it got too hot. You were still really nervous, despite her being very clear about how she felt, and Zoe thought that was pretty funny.

“So, we’re gonna have to say something to people tonight,” Zoe started.

You just nodded in response. Hopefully this wasn’t going to make anything weird. You hadn’t been working at Hextech long enough to know how the dynamics worked. Maybe someone had been pining after Zoe too and now hated you. Maybe someone was Zoe’s ex and now hated you. Maybe someone was just really homophobic and now hated you. There were plenty of possibilities, you could go on.

“I was thinking we should wear these matching dresses I found last week, and sort of bought already, to double our cute couple factor.” She had murmured that middle part but you still heard it loud and clear. You had to hold back a squeak. That was so sweet. And adorable. She just saw the dresses in the shop and thought to herself ‘I want to wear that with Y/n’? You could die right now. You settled for downing more of that coffee.

“Yes! That’s so cool? I- What color are they?” You didn’t know how to handle this.

Zoe pulled out her phone and leaned over to show you the pics she took of them. They were matching, made of the same brown floral-patterned fabric, but different styles. Either one would go great with Zoe’s leather jacket, which you were still wearing. You’d go for your denim one. Not the purple jacket that currently hung off Zoe’s shoulders. The colors wouldn’t clash but the style of it would. This was going to be awesome, anyways. Matching dresses, telling your friends the best news you’ve had all year, having fun at the party, not having to spend the whole night miserably shoving your feelings aside? You couldn’t wait.

“Which one do you want?” You picked the looser, more flowy one. Zoe was more comfortable with tight stuff that showed off her body. You had a sneaking suspicion she already knew you’d pick that one, and was giving you the illusion of choice. It was sweet, really. Your phone alarm went off, alerting you that it was time to start the walk for work. All the relaxing time was gone. A crying shame, but you’d still get to spend the day with your favourite person just the same, so not truly that big of a loss. Albeit, Zoe didn’t look too pleased to have to go back to work. Laughing, you stood to your feet, and held out your arm for her to link through.

“Shall we go milady?” You two waved to the barista as you headed out the door. “I think you should do our makeup for the party again, really show off this time.” Zoe perked up, excited at the prospect as Hextech neared.

“And I’ll show off my hot new girlfriend too.” There was that damned blush again.

[atlafan]

Questions! Does y/n become captain her senior year? Does Harry freak out if she does? For long weekends off, do they ever go on mini-trips or do they just chill on campus and hang out? Does y/n ever read to Harry to help with his anxiety? If not, what does she do? Do they ever talk about their future together like how many kids they want and maybe a dog? When they go through their big break up, does Harry still go to her games? Even if he’s just watching online or hiding somewhere at the rink?

Y/N and Amanda make co-captains! Gina was very happy for them. Harry of course freaked out, he smothered her in kisses and praise. 

Y/N usually needs to go home and work on long weekends, or has practices/games. BUT her and Harry do find time for dates and sleepovers with the extra night. 

She doesn’t read to him. She got into the habit of helping him meditate, and she got him to start drinking tea instead of coffee. Caffeine plays a huge factor in his anxiety, but he still needs it to stay awake, so the tea was a better alternative. 

So, part of their break up was because they started talking about those things. It was really bad: 

“I just don’t understand how you can be with someone for over two years, and not see a future with them.” She looked at him, on the verge of tears.

“It’s not that I don’t, I just feel like you expect me to move here for you. What about my family? What about what I want to do? We’re only twenty-one years old, Y/N, don’t you want to experience life a little more?”

“I do! But I wanna experience it with you.”

“You’ve only ever been with me, don’t you want to see what else is out there?”

“Is that what this is about? You wanna experience other people?” The tears start now.

“No! I’ve had other experiences, but if you wanted more-”

“I don’t! I just want you!”

“I want you too, but I don’t want to move to your small town where you’ve lived your entire life and help you run a fucking bar! I’m applying to jobs all over the place. I don’t want us to become resentful towards each other because we’re making these huge decisions right now.”

“When else do you want to make them?! Winter break starts soon, and then we have three months to figure things out before graduation.”

“Maybe...” He sighs, tears coming to his own eyes. “Maybe...we shouldn’t do this anymore then. It’s not fair to you-”

“Don’t.”

“I don’t know what I want to do with my life, Y/N. And I’ve never heard you, not once, even offer to move to the U.K. with me.”

“Because I have other obligations. I told you, I’m going to start out working for my mom, and then I’ll see where things go. I have plans, but I have to start somewhere.”

“So do I! And I can’t do that if I get stuck...”

“So you’d be stuck with me.” She swallows. 

“That’s not what I meant.”

“But you said it, Harry.” She wipes her cheeks. “You wanna break up, is that it?”

“I don’t want to, but I also don’t see how we’re going to make this work after we graduate, and it’ll hurt more if we prolong this.” 

“Right, wouldn’t want you to feel any pain.”

“Y/N.” 

“Get out. I don’t wanna see you ever again.” 

Her voice cracks and he moves towards her to hold. They cry against each other, both of their hearts breaking at the same time. Neither of them really wanting this, but also them both knowing that this actually might be for the best. It would hurt now, but Harry was right, it would hurt more if they waited to do this in May. Now they would have time to heal. 

Harry watched every single one of her games online. At first he hid himself under a blanket in his room, in tears, watching her play. It was the most difficult winter break ever. They had decided not to speak or interact out of fear that that would get back together, but her senior night game was coming up soon and he didn’t if he should go or not. 

Like always, Harry came back to campus a week early to get settled in. There were a few parties happening, and he thought it was time he got out of his self pity, and went out with his friends. He hadn’t hooked up with anyone while he was home, nor did he really want to, but he did want to drink and have fun. He was at a party at the men’s basketball house with Niall and Louis. He was buzzed, the music was good, and he took a hit off someone’s vape. When he looked out to the dance floor his eyes bugged out. There was Y/N, head rolled back on Scott Sawyer’s shoulder. Her ass pressed against his pelvis, and his hands on her hips. She was laughing and having a good time. Harry was gonna let it go, this was one of the reasons they broke up in the first place, so she could know other people, but when he saw Scott start to kiss on her neck, something in him snapped.

“Nope.” He puts his cup down and walks over to them. “Y/N.” He grabs her wrist and yanks her away from Scott. 

“Harry?!” She nearly shrieks, him being the last person she thought she’d see at this party.

“What the fuck, bro?” Scott says.

“Walk away, Scott, I’m not in the mood. Better yet...” 

He yanks on Y/N again, basically pulling her out of the party. He could her yelling his name, demanding to be let go, and normally he wasn’t this guy. He wasn’t the type of guy to be so aggressive, but he couldn’t help it. Once he gets her outside he lets her.

“What the fuck is your problem?!” She crosses her arms over herself, shivering from the cold air. “Who do you think you are?”

“Your boyfriend!”

“No you’re not!”

“Yes I am!”

“No!” She stamps her foot. “You made it clear you didn’t want me anymore. You made it clear that I, we, were not worth figuring out!”

“I made a mistake, okay! Did you...have you...I mean...I wouldn’t blame you if you did, and maybe it’s none of my business, but-”

“I didn’t fuck Scott, if that’s what you’re wondering.” She looks away from him. “But I could have. I should have.” She looks at him again. “Do you know how lucky I was that I still did well on my finals? I was a fucking mess!” She pushes on his chest and he just takes it. “I wanted to hate you, but I couldn’t. I wanted to stop loving you, but I couldn’t.”

“You still love me?” He grabs her hands and holds them to his chest. “Because I-”

“Don’t you dare say it. That’s not fair.”

“I made a mistake. I was overwhelmed, and-”

“That’s not a good excuse, Harry.”

“I know.” He’s pleading with her now. “I’ve watched all your games, every single one, and every single time I cried. I wanted to be there, in the stands, cheering for you like you deserved.” She could see his breath from how cold it was. It would be a miracle if they didn’t get sick from standing out there. “I freaked out when you mentioned dogs and types of houses you wanted some day.”

“Yeah because at the end of the day, you’re just a little boy who wants to get his dick wet.” She bites, and it stings him, but he knew she needed to say it. 

“Anything else you’d like to spit at me? I deserve it.”

“I really wanna just hit you until you stop breathing, but that’s not exactly an option.” He cracks a smile at her and she just rolls her eyes. 

“I didn’t like watching him kiss you.”

“I’m glad you saw, it’s what you get for pushing me away.”

“I know.” He steps closer to her now, as close as he can, and she lets him.

“You hurt me, Harry.”

“I know.” He wraps his arms around her. “I’ll never do it again.” 

“How do I know that come May this won’t happen again.”

“Because I need you. I knew I needed you before, but this time apart has really shown me. I still have a lot to figure out, and things may become long distance, but it’s worth it if you’re mine.” He looks down at her and she gazes up at him.

“You really mean that?”

“Yes.” 

She throws her arms around his neck and crashes her cold mouth to his. His hugs her tighter to him, moaning into the kiss that he’s been longing for.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’ll spend every day making it up to you.”

“It’s not me you need to make it up.” She smirks at him. “I’ll get over it the second we really go makeup.” He raises an eyebrow at her. “My mother on the other hand...” 

[highfivecalum]

Currents {Surfer!CH}

a/n: ok so this was supposed to be like surfer!calum but uhhh i kind of forgot that whole plot as i was writing it lmao? there’s some, like beachy themes and mentions of surfing, and i didn’t want to change the moodboard because it’s kind of relevant, but it’s not like, all about surfing. but i still hope y’all enjoy this 17k random cute calum content hehehe happy reading :)!!! (also if this flops let’s pretend it didn’t happen because i haven’ written in like months) ~~~

***

***

Currents: A body of water or air moving in a definite direction. 

Summary: Needing a change and needing to get away from her over-controlling mother, Joey moves across the world to live with her cousin in Australia, where she meets mysterious surfer boy, Calum.

***

“Joey!” Her head snapped up from her phone, a smile making its way onto her tired face at the sight of her cousin that she hadn’t seen in way too many years. Elise, Joey’s cousin who was only four years older than her, was nice enough to let her escape her life in Seattle, and stay with her in Australia for however long she pleased. “You look exhausted.”

“Yeah.” Joey laughed, pulling away from their hug, smiling down at her shorter, but older and gorgeous, cousin. She missed having her cousin around. Elise having left the city to move to Australia after meeting and falling in love with a man who was from there, Joey rarely got to see her her favorite, and only cousin on her mother’s side. “Fifteen hour flight will do that to you.”

“Right, right.” Elise hummed, picking up the three bags that Joey brought, and nodded her head in the direction of where her car was parked, still on with her hazard lights flashing. She knew they couldn’t stand there any longer and chat due to the crazy traffic that the busy airport brought. “Let’s getcha home!”

The drive from the airport to Elise’s house in the small city just outside of Sydney was only twenty minutes away, and for that Joey was thankful. All she wanted to do was take a shower to wash off the airplane smell and grime, put on her favorite t-shirt, and crawl into bed. She knew that getting used to the time difference, and sleeping off the jet lag, would take more time than she wanted it to, but, she had all the time in the world to sleep and adapt to her new, temporary home.

“So,” Elise tapped on the steering wheel and glanced at her cousin, smiling at the way she was looking at her surroundings in awe. She had never been to Australia before, and Elise remembered her reaction was the exact same the first time she visited. “How long are you planning on staying?”

Joey puffed out a breath of air and readjusted herself, turning to lean against the window of the bright yellow Jeep that Elise was driving, and pulled her legs to her chest. She twisted her lips from side to side, not knowing the answer to give Elise, since she didn’t even know herself. “No clue. Not forever, obviously, but just long enough for my mom to realize that what she’s pushing me to do is what she wants, not me.”

“Still pushing the whole lawyer thing, huh?”

“She won’t give it up.” Joey rolled her eyes. Even the mere thought of her mother pissed her the hell off. She loved her mother dearly, she really did, but she couldn’t stand the pressure and all the pushing her mother was doing. “I mean, I’m twenty-two years old, for God’s sake. I think it’s a little too late to go to law school.”

Elise giggled, nodding her head in agreement. “How is your mom? I haven’t talked to her in months.”

“Fine, I guess. Just the same neurotic, control freak, mother Jill.”

“Well, now you got me; fun, laid back, favorite cousin, Elise.”

Joey laughed, shaking her head in amusement, but still smiling at the thought of being in a new city, with her favorite cousin who lived two minutes away from the beach, thousands and thousands away from her mother.

***

The Australian sun shining through Joey’s curtain-less windows was a pleasant change from the gloomy and rainy Seattle sky that she was used to. Letting out a high pitched squeal as she stretched her tired and sore body, Joey stared up at her ceiling in complete happiness. She had been sleeping on and off for nearly a week, trying to get used to the time change and rid herself of jet lag. It seemed to be working, considering Joey felt much better that morning than all of the others.

“She’s alive!” Elise clapped her hands at the sight of a tired looking, bed-headed Joey in nothing but her oversized t-shirt that stopped mid thigh. “I was just about to go upstairs and make sure you were still breathing.”

“Not to worry. I’m all rested up now.” Joey assured her, sliding into one of the wooden chairs at the dining table, crossing her arms on the table and resting her head on them. She hummed happily, contently, at the feeling of the sun beaming down on her and the smell of bacon cooking and coffee brewing. “So,” Joey got up to pour herself a cup of coffee. “What are we doing today?”

Elise laughed, flipping the bacon over and spun around, resting her back against the counter to look at Joey. “Whatever you wanna do,” Elise winked. “We could grab some lunch and go to the beach?” Joey nodded her head in agreement, wanting nothing more than to explore her new town. “But, do you mind if my boyfriend comes with? He’s been out of town teaching surfing lessons and I told him we could hang out.”

Joey’s ears perked up at the sound of meeting Elise’s boyfriend she had heard so much about. “That’s fine.” Joey finished her coffee and put the cup in the sink. “I’ll go get ready then!” 

Joey skipped up the stairs and happily pranced to her bedroom that she loved so much. Seafoam green walls with yellow, pink, and blue objects and accent pieces to match it, a huge window taking up a whole wall, and her own small, but personal, bathroom. 

After her much needed shower, Joey let her dirty blonde hair air dry, keeping it natural in loose waves, applied her daily light amount of makeup, and dressed herself in a yellow bikini with a white, flowing cover up on top. 

She felt a bit exposed, with her bikini showing through her coverup, but Elise assured her that nobody would be staring, it was normal for people to walk around in just swimwear. That was one thing, out of many, that Joey would have to get used to. 

***

“Are we day drinking?” Joey asked as her eyes looked through the menu that Elise had already memorized, having been there a million times. The menu was endless and Joey really wasn’t sure what she was in the mood to eat. 

Elise scoffed out a laugh, Ashton’s high pitched giggle following after hers. On both of their days off they enjoyed drinking and spending time at the beach. “Is that even a question? Of course we are.” 

They ordered their respective drinks and food and made small talk while they waited for their food to be served. Clearing his throat, Ashton leaned forward and laced his fingers together. “So, Joey, tell me about yourself.” 

“Erm, what do you want to know?” Joey laughed nervously. She wasn’t sure why she was nervous, really, it was just her cousin’s boyfriend, after all. But that question always put her on edge.

“The basics.” Ashton shrugged. Joey went on to tell Ashton about herself; why she moved away, how long she was planning on staying, and so forth. 

“I’m currently job hunting,” Joey puffed out her cheeks. Job hunting was one of her least favorite things, ever. It took way too long and was way too stressful and was never promising. “El said she isn’t charging me rent, but I feel bad, so I want to pitch in and help out.”

“Oh, really? Well, I own the surf shop down the street and I’m looking for some new people to work. I have a few guys workin’ for me, but they’re more focused on the surf instructor side of the shop, so I’m in need of a cashier.” Ashton told her and Joey quirked an eyebrow. “If you’re interested, you have the job.”

“Seriously? You’ll give me a job? Just like that?”

“Why not?” Ashton shrugged. “You’re Elise’s cousin, I trust my judgement, and you.”

Joey grinned happily, clinking her glass against Ashton’s, her new boss, and felt a weight lifted off of her shoulders. She finally had a job, after a week of living there, and all she could think about was how things were finally starting to look up. 

***

Joey was nervous, to say the least, as she walked into Ashton’s shop, Surf and Co. A basic name, she thought, but that’s exactly what it was - surfing equipment, swimwear, towels, and everything else that is a beach essential. 

“Joey, hey!” Ashton waved her over to the counter where the cash register and another guy were standing. Another very attractive guy. “This is Luke,” Joey looked at him, taking in his bright blue eyes, blonde curly hair, and tanned skin. “He’ll be training you. He’s a great friend and a good teacher.”

Oh, God. Joey thought. She was already nervous for her first day and now this ridiculously attractive surfer was training her? Her body felt like it was on fire and it wasn’t just from the sun that was shining through the large window to her left. 

“Nice to meet ya, Joey,” Luke extended his hand for her to shake and she did so politely, and nervously. His smile was bright and pretty and it had Joey smiling back easily.

“Yeah, you too, Luke.”

Ashton excused himself, going to his office in the back of the store to finish some paperwork and payroll, leaving Luke to show Joey the ropes of the store. 

Joey had worked in retail before in Seattle, so she learned quite quickly how to work the register which Luke was thankful for, since it gave them time to chill out and get to know each other better, since it was a slow Monday afternoon. The store didn’t usually pick up until after three when people were starting to get off work.

“Have you made any friends yet?” Luke asked, spinning around in the wooden stool that was behind the counter. 

“Erm, not really.” Joey laughed sadly, with a small shrug. “I mean I haven’t really had time, you know? With trying to get adjusted to everything, unpacking, and trying to find a job, I’ve been a bit busy.”

Luke modded his head in understanding. “Well, at least you have Elise, right?” Joey hummed in agreement, a small smile pulling at her lips at the thought of her cousin. “She has a lot of friends, including me and the rest of the guys, so I’m sure you’ll be meeting new people soon. But, in the meantime, you can hang out with me.” Luke flashed her a beautifully blinding smile, showing off his pearly whites. 

Joey smiled at how nice and thoughtful Luke was being, even though she didn’t know who the hell the ‘rest of the guys’ were, but she was sure she would find out soon enough. 

***

The party that Elise had talked Joey into going to was in full swing. Ashton’s house was packed full of people, only three of them that Joey knew, but the alcohol was helping her let loose and her anxiety dissipated with each sip she took, even though the liquor burned her throat. 

A sudden elbow to her back had Joey spinning around to see who was behind her, though she was sure it wasn’t anybody she knew, but was surprised to see Luke. “Oh, hey.” Joey laughed. 

“Joey, hi!” Luke pulled her into a side hug, slinging his arm over her shoulder, Joey happily reciprocating the hug. He smelled like booze, which was to be expected, and she sure she did, too. “Havin’ fun?”

“I guess so,” Joey shrugged. “Don’t really know anybody here, though. And I’m not sure where Elise ran off to.”

“Well,” Luke dropped his arm, taking Joey’s hand in his, pulling her along with him. “Let’s go change that!” Joey really appreciated how friendly and welcoming Luke was being, considering she was the new girl in a town where everybody knew everybody, and he could be spending his time doing anything else. “Guys, this is Joey!”

Two guys, sitting around the fire, looked up at the sound of Luke’s voice, one of them smiling up at the girl that Luke was introducing, the other’s face stoic, never changing. 

“Nice t’meet you, Joey! I’m Michael.” He stood up, shaking her hand happily, Michael grinned at her. He, too, like every other male in Australia, it seemed, was also quite cute with a contagious smile. “You’re Elise’s cousin, right?”

“That’s right.” Joey smiled at him. “Nice to meet you, too.”

“This is Calum,” Luke pointed in the other guys' direction, Joey’s eyes following his long finger, gaze landing on the most gorgeous looking man she had ever seen, even in the darkness, she could see his face just fine from the flames from the bonfire. “You’ll be seein’ a lot of them.”

“Nice to meet you,” Joey extended her hand out to Calum as he approached her and Luke, but much to her surprise, and disappointment, all he offered her was a purse of his lips and a head nod, walking directly past her and inside the sliding doors. 

“Um,” Joey frowned. “Did I do something wrong?”

“Nah,” Luke sighed sadly. “That’s just Calum, distant and non-approachable. He’s a bit closed off around new people, but you’ll get used to him in due time, no worries.”

Luke was reassuring, kind of, but Joey still didn’t like the feeling of being brushed off by a guy who she didn’t know, and who didn’t know her. 

***

Calum couldn’t stop staring at her from across the kitchen. And he hated himself for it. “I thought you said that Joey is Elise’s cousin?” Calum asked Luke as the two of them leaned against Ashton’s kitchen counter. 

“She is.” Luke confirmed with the nod of his head. 

“So, Joey is a she?” Calum frowned, his eyes never leaving Joey, who was standing in the living room laughing at something Ashton and Michael were saying. 

“You sound disappointed.” Luke said, his voice full of amusement. 

“I just thought we would be gettin’ another dude around here to hang out with. Not-“

“A pretty girl?” Luke smirked, bumping Calum’s shoulder with his own, receiving an elbow to the ribs. Pretty was an understatement, Calum thought.

But, Calum knew that Luke was right. Joey was attractive, gorgeous even, with already slightly tanned skin, light colored, but not blonde hair, and a few tattoos scattered on her body. Even in the dim lighting, Calum could so clearly see how bright and pretty her green eyes were. 

“What’s your deal with her? You didn’t even say hi to her, you totally stiffed her, dude.” Luke frowned down at his barely shorter friend. Luke liked Joey so far, only knowing her for a few days, but he liked her vibe and her personality. He didn’t understand why, without Calum even knowing her, didn’t. 

Calum simply shrugged, pushing himself off the counter to walk away from Luke and busy himself with the other people he knew in the house, those people not being his friends, who were surrounding Joey and listening to her animatedly tell a story, with Elise joining in every so often. 

Calum was going to stay far away from her. Or at least try to. 

***

“That’s so amazing,” Joey sighed in amazement as she watched the dozens of people effortlessly surfing the waves, Elise and her friends included. She never thought she would be living on a beach, but she loved every second of it, even if it was only the second and a half week of her being there. “I wish I could be that good at something.”

“Why can’t you be?” Michael asked, looking at her behind his shaded eyes. The two of them, the only two in the group of friends that didn’t know how to surf, were sitting on the huge beach towel laid out on the sand, listening to music, and sipping Corona. 

“I have no skills,” Joey admitted with a laugh. “I especially have no skills when it comes to being in the water, you know, like, water sports.”

“You and me both.” Michael snorted. “I’ve lived here my whole life and all my friends can surf or wakeboard, and here I am, talentless and jealous.” Michael didn’t really mind, he would rather sit and do nothing and watch his talented friends, than put the time and energy into learning something new. Laziness was something he and Joey had in common.

“We should take lessons,” Joey suggested with a cheeky smile. She bumped his shoulder with his, prompting him to look at her and crack a smile. “I’ll do it if you do it.”

“Seriously?” Michael laughed, not even being able to picture himself sitting, let alone standing and riding, on a surfboard. And, really, Michael was just too lazy. He wasn’t ashamed to admit it. “I would probably break my neck, so I’m gonna have to pass on that, Joey.”

“Pass on what?” Elise panted as she jogged up to the pair, shoving her board into the sand and collapsing down on the towel with Ashton, Luke, and Calum following her shortly after. 

“Surfing lessons,” Joey hummed happily, her head thrown back, her hair brushing the towel below her, letting the sun bake her skin. 

“You totally should!” Luke exclaimed excitedly. He would have offered to teach her, but he didn’t have enough time on his hands. “I’d give you lessons, but I’m booked for a few months, so is Ash.”

“It’s oka-“

“Calum’s not,” Ashton interrupted her quickly, kicking Calum’s foot with his own, a smirk on his face. 

“I’m not what?” Calum looked up from his phone, with furrowed eyebrows, clearly confused and clearly paying no attention to the conversation at hand. Joey wasn’t surprised, really, the two times she had been around him he had totally ignored her.  

“Booked for surfing lessons.”

“Oh,” Calum nodded. “Yeah, ‘m always open to taking new clients. Who are we talkin’ about?” 

“Joey,” Luke smiled knowingly. He wanted the two of them to get to know each other better, wanted Calum to befriend her like he and the rest of the guys did so easily, and he knew that Calum was trying to keep his distance. But why? Luke didn’t know. And he was determined to change that.

Calum let out a heavy sigh, locking eyes with Joey who was directly across from him, biting his lower lip at the nervous expression on her face. “Fine.” Calum knew he couldn’t get out of it, and neither could Joey. 

***

“Hey,” Joey stood up, wiping the sand off of her bikini bottom clad butt, smiling nervously at Calum. He didn’t look too pleased to be there and Joey knew that he was doing this against his will. “Thanks for doing this.”

“Whatever.” Calum rolled his eyes, dropping his board to the sand and pulling the wax out of the pocket of his swim trunks to wax his board. “Let’s just get this over with, yeah?”

Joey frowned, but mumbled a quiet okay and followed Calum’s lead and started waxing the board that Elise had lent to her for the day. She knew that once she got the hang of it, if she ever did, she would go out and buy her own board, but the spare one that Elise had would do for now. 

After learning the basics of how to stand, where to stand, and how to work the board, Calum stretched his gorgeous body, that Joey couldn’t keep her eyes off of, and looked at her expectantly. He looked bored.

“You wanna get in the water today or wait until next time?”

“Um,” Joey bit her lip. She wasn’t sure if she was ready, but she was going to pull the trigger, and she was burning hot under the blazing sun.  “Today?”

“You’re going to surf in that?” Calum nodded to her body and the black string bikini she had on. He had his wetsuit in the trunk of his car, always being prepared, but he figured that Joey, who had never surfed before, didn’t own one yet. But she could easily go to the store and pick one up for herself.

Joey looked down at herself, frowned, and looked back up at Calum. Tilting her head in confusion, Joey asked him, “What’s wrong with this?”

Calum laughed, though there wasn’t a hint of humor in it, and shook his head. Jesus, Ashton, Calum thought. “Leave it to Ashton to hire a clueless girl, who knows absolutely nothing about surfing, to work at a surf shop.” 

Narrowing her eyes at him, Joey crossed her arms across her chest and tilted her head to the side, glaring at him, though he was paying no attention to her. “Why don’t you like me?”

“I don’t know you, Joey.” 

“Yeah and you won’t ever get to know me if you avoid me every time we hang out.”

“Alright, let’s get one thing straight,” Calum stood up straight, eyeing her down. “We don’t hang out,” he motioned between the two of them. “You hang out with your cousin, who is dating my best friend, who I hang out with all the time. If it were up to me, we wouldn’t ever be hanging out and I would not be giving you lessons today. For free.”

“Then why are you?”

“Because Ashton and Elise would be pissed at me if I didn’t. Understand?”

“Yeah, I understand,” Joey shook her head angrily. Picking up her purse, she fished a few twenties out of her wallet and threw them in Calum’s direction, paying him for the lessons and the time wasted, even though she didn’t have to. “I understand that you’re a dick. Thanks for the lesson.”

“I don’t need your money! It’s free!” Calum yelled after her, cupping his hands around his face, as she stormed away as best as she could in her flip flops in the sand, forgetting about and leaving Elise’s spare board behind. Calum could handle getting that home to her. 

Turning around, Joey continued to walk, backwards this time, and yelled back at him, with her middle fingers up in the air. “I don’t want to owe you any favors, asshole!”

***

The Australian heat is something that Joey will never get used to. After living in Seattle for over ten years, and rarely ever going on vacations, sun was a rare thing in her life. And she loved it. 

The loud splashing into the pool had her peeling her eyes open to see Michael on Luke’s shoulders and Elise on Ashton’s, playing a game of chicken in the in ground pool in the backyard of Elise and Joey’s house. 

The lazy, but content smile on Joey’s diminished when she saw Calum walk out of the sliding doors that led out to the backyard and pool. He was invited, of course he was, but Elise was unsure if he was actually going to come, and Joey really hoped he wouldn’t. But, of course, he showed up. Two hours late. 

“Cal! You’re finally here!” Michael shouted, paying more attention to Calum than to the game, and Elise took it as her chance to push his shoulders as hard as she could and knock him into the pool. “Fuck!” Michael’s cursing was the last thing to be heard before he fell backwards into the pool. 

Ashton and Elise cheered in victory about their win as Calum made himself comfortable on one of the vacant pool chairs. Joey got up to throw away her empty beer bottle, opening her mouth to offer to get anyone a drink, when Luke came barreling toward her, picking her up and throwing her over his shoulder. “Luke!” Joey squealed. “Put me down!”

She pounded her small fists against his butt, making him giggle, and he returned the favor, smacking his very large hand, against her scantily bikini bottom clad butt. Not too hard, but enough to make it jiggle slightly and enough for Calum not to be able to tear his eyes off of them.

Calum watched as Luke spun Joey around, playfully smacking her butt every few seconds, causing a feeling that Calum didn’t like in the pit of his stomach. It wasn’t anger, it wasn’t annoyance, he knew that, and he really hoped it wasn’t unwarranted jealousy. 

“You ready, Joey?” Joey could almost hear the mischief in Luke’s voice.

“Ready for what?” She exclaimed, not getting an answer from Luke, as he was already running and jumping into the water, submerging them both. “Luke!” Her voice rang throughout the backyard as she wiped her face clean of pool water. “You’re such a dick!”

Splashing her in the face, Luke smirked deviously, mumbling a quiet, “not as dick of a dick as Calum,” into Joey’s ear before swimming away from her. 

She almost regretted running her mouth about Calum to Luke, Ashton, and Elise while they were all at the shop, but she needed to get it off her chest before she exploded. She just didn’t understand why he hated her so much without even knowing her. 

Joey rolled her eyes but silently agreed before pushing herself out of the water. Calum’s eyes were on Joey as she wrung her hair out, her half naked body due to her very small bikini, glistening with a combination of water, sweat, and tanning oil. He had to force himself to look away from her once their eyes met. He didn’t want to stop looking at her. 

He may not have liked her, but he had to admit that she was surely a sight to be seen. Even a blind person could see that.

***

It pissed Joey off to no end how attractive she thought Calum was. His looks mixed with his accent and his tough, don’t give a shit, demeanor, was something that she found way too attractive. But his attitude towards her? A complete turn off. 

“You’re staring,” Luke leaned over to whisper into Joey’s ear. Although it wasn’t quite whispering considering they were in a loud, crowded bar with music thumping. “Again.”

“Shut up,” Joey grumbled and sipped her Jack and Coke, practically having to tear her eyes away from Calum. “It’s just not fair,” she sighed dramatically. Luke raised his eyebrows, prompting Joey to continue. “He’s so attractive but he’s such a dickhead to me for no Goddamn reason!”

Luke snorted, finishing his drink that he had been nursing, since he was voted to be the designated driver of the night. “He’ll get past it, trust me.” Luke stood up, leaving a sloppy kiss on her cheek. “How could he not like you? You’re great, Joe.”

The corners of her lips turned up and she nodded as a thank you as she now finished her drink. She, too, got up to get another drink, but Luke stopped her since he was on his way to the bathroom, he offered to get her her next drink, which she appreciated. She wasn’t in the mood to stand and wait for ten minutes to get a drink. 

Looking away from Luke, Joey and Calum’s eyes met, and she pursed her lips, and unsurprisingly, his face held no reaction. What else could she have expected? She didn’t think he would ever warm up to her. And she hated that feeling. 

***

“Why is that your name?” Calum asked, finally breaking the silence between them for the first time since they got on their boards and paddled into the water, which had been almost over an hour.

“I’m sorry?” Joey furrowed her eyebrows. 

“Your name - it’s a dude’s name.”

Joey scoffed out a laugh and shook her head, running her fingers through the still water. There hadn’t been many good waves that day, so Calum and Joey floated on their boards in silence while they waited. “It’s actually Josephine. I’ve hated it since I could say it, so I’ve always gone by Joey.”

“Why did you move here?” She looked over at Calum again, looking so perfect and natural on his surfboard, and sighed. Was he really trying to make small talk? 

“Are you asking because you’re genuinely curious or you’re just bored of the silence?”

Calum shrugged. “Little bit of both, I guess.”

That surprised Joey. Calum had never taken an interest in her life and she really didn’t think he ever would, but she didn’t mind. She appreciated it, really. And she was deathly bored of sitting in the water without speaking. 

“My mother is an overbearing control freak who tries to plan my every move,” Joey spit out without hesitation, shaking her head distastefully at the thought of her mother. “She’s been pushing me to go to law school since I was thirteen and never gave up. Finally, a few months ago, I told her I didn’t want to and I told her I needed to get away from her and from the city. A twenty minute phone call with Elise later and now I’m here.”

Calum opted to stay quiet and simply nod his head. He couldn’t imagine how stressful it was for Joey to grow up with so much pressure on her. His upbringing was much different with his parents letting him choose his own career path, letting him choose to do whatever it was he wanted to do, with their support. 

“Sounds like shit.” Was all Calum had to say. Joey couldn’t help but laugh and nod her head in agreement. Calum watched her look out at the water, the sun glistening down on her and the ocean. As his eyes trailed down her body, they caught sight of a tattoo he hadn’t noticed before. It was a date of some sort in Roman numerals. “What’s that tattoo mean?”

Joey looked down at her ribs, tracing the date lightly, a sad smile on her face that Calum could clearly see. “The date my father died.”

Calum’s lips made an O shape and he suddenly felt bad for asking and prying into her personal life. He hadn’t ever asked her personal questions before, so he really didn’t know anything about her. It was weird, for Calum, to hear Joey open up to him. 

“Hey,” Joey looked up at the sound of his voice and followed the nod of his head, looking in front of them to finally see a wave forming. “That’s all you.”

Joey swallowed the nervous lump in her throat, but pushed her anxiety to the side and paddled forward. She did everything Calum had taught her in the three lessons they’ve had, not many, but enough for her to grasp the concept of how to catch and ride a wave. Maybe not well, but she could get the job done.

The lessons paid off as Joey successfully caught and rode the wave, her excited squeals of excitement and clapping had Calum smiling at her smile and happiness against his will. He watched as she dropped into the water, popping back up just seconds later, and swam over to where Calum was sitting on his own board. Their smiles mirrored each other’s. 

“Hell yeah!” Calum held his hand up for a high-five which Joey happily gave him and she tried to paddle away, but couldn’t get any further as Calum wrapped his hand around hers and pulled her closer to him. “That was amazing, really. For your first time catching a wave - I’m impressed.”

“Thanks, Calum.” Joey blushed, but couldn’t help but smile widely, showing off her pretty and perfect teeth. “All thanks to you.”

“Please,” Calum scoffed. “You’ve got natural talent.”

Joey rolled her eyes but smiled at the man in front of her, who, for once, was being nice to her. It was a weird, one-eighty, change for the two of them to be talking and laughing together, but they both welcomed it.

The moment was perfect, really. With Joey and Calum’s faces only inches away, the sound of waves crashing, and the sight of the sun setting behind Joey and in front of Calum, it was the perfect moment, Calum thought. And he didn’t want it to slip away. 

Before he could process it, Calum’s lips were on Joey’s and before Joey could think about what she was doing, she was kissing him back. Calum couldn’t find it in himself to stop kissing her, not until he felt her hands in his hair, prompting him to pull away. 

Their breaths were heavy and their chests panting. “We, uh,” Calum’s breath fanned over Joey’s lips and her eyes fluttered shut, hoping he would press his against hers one more time. “We should get going before it gets dark out.”

With that, Calum pulled away, paddling towards the shore, leaving Joey more confused than ever. 

***

“Dude,” Elise snapped in Joey’s face, knocking her out of her daydream. Joey looked up from her nails and the chipped polish she had absentmindedly been picking at and raised her eyebrows at her cousin in question. “What is with you? You’ve been acting weird lately.”

“Ugh,” Joey threw her head back in exasperation. She had debated telling Elise about her and Calum’s weird kiss in the ocean, but she wasn’t sure if she wanted to spill the beans when it really wasn’t that big of a deal. “Calum, um,” Joey cleared her throat anxiously. “I- Calum kissed me.”

“What?” Elise nearly spit her coffee out on the concrete below them. The two of them were sitting outside at the small table in the corner of their backyard, in the shade but could still feel like the sun on them, and it was nice, but the conversation about to take place was not nice. “I’m sorry - he what?”

“After I caught a wave, he seemed so happy and proud of me and I guess we got caught up in the moment and he kissed me.” Joey explained more in depth. “And then he swam away and acted like nothing happened!”

“Well, have you talked to him about it?”

Joey made a bored face. As if she had talked to him. Even if she did try to speak to him about it, she was sure he wouldn’t give her the time of day. “Yeah, right. I haven’t seen him since and I don’t have his phone number, so,” Joey trailed off in annoyance. 

“Want me to talk to him?”

“God no,” Joey shook her head quickly. She didn’t want anybody else to get involved. It was her and Calum’s mess, so they had to sort it out themselves, as civil adults. “I’ll deal with it. Eventually.”

Which was going to be hard, because Joey really didn’t think Calum could act like an adult, let alone a civil one. 

***

After the bar, Calum walked back to Elise’s with her and Ashton, and stayed for another drink, chatting and laughing with them in the kitchen. They all had a good buzz from being out, and Calum was in an even better mood since Joey was too tired to go out, so she was glued to Elise’s side like she always was. He hadn’t seen or spoken to her since their weird kiss, that he, regretfully, initiated, and he wasn’t looking forward to seeing her. 

“Alright,” Calum chugged down the rest of his beer and stood up from the stool that was at the marble island, and shrugged his jacket back on. It was getting late and he didn’t want to be walking home too late, even though his house was only a ten minute walk away. “I’m outta here. See you guys later.”

“Get home safe! Love you!” Elise and Ashton yelled as he let himself out through the sliding doors that led to the backyard and a walkway directly to his own house.

He stopped in his tracks, unlit cigarette between his lips and lighter in hand, when he saw Joey, curled up under a blanket, a hoodie that he was pretty sure was his that Elise stole from him, with the hood up and weed leaf socks on her feet. Why she was outside? He had no clue. It was nice out, sure, but she had a perfectly fine bed inside just a few feet away. 

He saw the empty glass of wine on the ground next to her, as he slowly and quietly approached her sleeping body. She looked peaceful, and adorable, as she slept, which Calum hated to admit, and he didn’t want to wake her up, but it was half past one in the morning, and he didn’t want to leave her out there in the dark and with the mosquitos. 

“Hey,” Calum, crouched down to lightly shake Joey’s body, watching her stir and open her eyes, looking around in confusion. She clearly wasn’t planning on sleeping outside for the night. “Why’re you asleep out here?”

“Hmm,” Joey hummed tiredly and closed her eyes again, cuddling into herself more with her knees pulled up to her chest. Even though she was outside on a lawn chair, she was too comfy to get up. “Spider in my room. Couldn’t find it to kill it.”

Calum snorted. Typical, he thought. “C’mon, let‘s get you inside, yeah?” 

“Can’t get up.” 

“Jesus,” Calum huffed and pocketed his long forgotten, and much needed, cigarette, and stood up to his full height, taking the blanket off of her and draping it over his shoulder, effortlessly picking her up bridal style, and made his way inside. Joey was quite small, barely over one hundred and ten pounds and shorter than Calum, most people were, so carrying her was easy and effortless for him. 

Toeing her bedroom door open, Calum flicked the light switch on causing Joey to groan and hide her face in his chest. He fucking hated now nice and natural it felt. 

He had never been in her room before, didn’t have a reason to, so he looked around as he settled Joey in her bed. He had been in the room before, of course, but not since Joey made it her own. Fairy lights were hung above her bed and candles were scattered everywhere, and her bed sheets were bright white with flowers on them, unlike the boring gray ones Elise used to have on the bed. 

It seemed to fit her, Calum thought, and he caught himself smiling at the picture on her nightstand, of her and Elise when they were younger. “Wait,” Calum was stopped from walking any further, his plans on leaving Joey to sleep long forgotten as the grip she had on his wrist loosened. “Stay. Please.”

Calum was hesitant, one because Joey was nearly in a full slumber, and two because he was a little bit more than tipsy and the offer sounded way too appealing. Going against his better judgment, Calum sighed heavily and took a seat on the other side of her bed, his shoes on the floor next to him, and his body above the blankets, not under like Joey was. 

He couldn’t fall asleep, with her right next to him and her perfume in his nose, that was for damn sure. So he sat there, wide awake, staring at the ceiling. And before Joey could wake up, Calum was gone. He wasn’t sure what he regretted more; staying the night or leaving before she woke up.

***

The little bell above the door rang throughout the shop, and Joey locked and put her phone in the drawer to her left, wanting to look professional while she greeted the new customer. “Welcome to Surf and C-“ Joey’s words died on her tongue as she made eye contact with her mother, who she hadn’t seen in over a month. “Mom?”

“Josephine.” Jill smiled, though it was clearly fake, and looked around the shop. Her nose scrunched up at the sight of her daughter behind the counter, wearing a bathing suit with a see thru shirt and jean shorts on, her flip flops on the floor below her as she sat criss cross applesauce on the stool. 

“Wh-what are you doing here?” Joey was shocked, to say the least. The last time she saw or spoke to her mother, they were screaming at each other and saying things neither of them meant, and would soon regret. 

“I came to see how you were doing, sweetie.” Jill rested her arms on the counter across from Joey. Joey swallowed nervously, knowing full well that her mother would have nothing good to say. “Seems like you’re doing worse than you were in Seattle.”

“Mom-“

“You could have had it all, Josephine! A good, stable, job in a law firm, not a beach shop, and a nice man in your life. What do you have here?” Jill held her arms up, motioning to the empty store she was working in. “You have nothing going for you here. Have you even met anyone you can foresee a future with?”

“Did you really travel eight thousand miles to come lecture me?” Joey asked, completely ignoring the questions her mother was asking her and the disapproval in her voice. Joey wasn’t having it. 

“I came to bring you home.”

“I’m not coming home, mom.”

“Josephine-“

“No! I’m not leaving here. Not yet.” Joey stood her ground, standing up to her mother for only the second, or third, time in her life. “You want me to leave, you want me to go to law school, you want me to find a husband. You. It has always been about you! I’m a grown woman, I’m done listening to you and your bullshit.”

Joey’s voice cracked and her eyes and nose stung and she knew she was about to start crying. Not tears of sadness, but of anger and frustration. She couldn’t stand her mother and the need for her to be perfect. Joey would never be perfect. 

“You want me to be this perfect daughter and guess what? I’m not! I’m not the daughter you want me to be and I never will be. Not as long as I’m around you.”

“Fine,” Jill rubbed her gloss covered lips together and picked up her purse from the chair next to her. Joey’s eyes were filled with unshed tears. “I just want you to know that if you do change your mind and come back to Seattle, you don’t have a place in my home anymore.”

The tears finally fell. “I don’t want one.” With that, Jill turned on her heel and stormed out of the shop, no goodbyes, no I love you’s, nothing, and Joey couldn’t find it in her to care, really. 

Once the door was shut, Joey hid her face in her hands and let the tears fall. She wasn’t sobbing, her shoulders weren’t shaking and there weren’t any loud sobs leaving her mouth, just a few tears that she shouldn’t have even been shedding over her mother. 

“Uh, hey.” At the sound of Calum’s voice, Joey’s head snapped up. Of course he was there - the last person she wanted to see. She hastily wiped at her cheeks and avoided all eye contact with him. “You okay?”

“How long have you been here?”

“Long enough.” Calum smiled innocently. “That sounded rough.”

Joey scoffed. “No shit.”

Joey wasn’t sure what she was expecting. Maybe a half ass “I’m sorry” from Calum that he didn’t entirely mean, or total silence, but sure as hell not a hug from him. It was foreign, hugging him. They had never been so close together, despite their kiss and him laying in her bed with her - both of which they acted like didn’t happen. 

“I know I don’t know the situation, but you shouldn’t let her get to you like that, yeah?” Calum mumbled, his cheek pressed against the top of Joey’s head. This is the closest, and longest, they had ever been touching each other. “I know I obviously didn’t know you in Seattle, but you seem happy here, from what I can tell. You shouldn’t let her show up here out of nowhere and fuck up your mood.”

Joey sniffled and nodded her head, her hair rubbing against Calum’s bare chest due to his wetsuit being unzipped and only hanging around his hips. “You’re right,” Joey’s voice was quiet and she figured that the goosebumps that rose on Calum’s skin were from the cold air, not her breath. “Thanks, Calum.”

“Am I interrupting something?” Luke appeared out of nowhere with a smirk on his face, and Calum, quickly and sadly, pulled away from their hug. It was too short for Calum’s liking and he found himself wanting to hold her for longer, to make her feel better after getting berated from her mother. He had no clue where these unexpected feelings came from and he didn’t want anyone to know about them. Not Luke, not Michael, not Ashton, and especially not Joey or Elise.

“Just tryin’ to cheer your friend up so she stops complaining.” Calum brushed him off, trying to act like he didn’t actually care about Joey or her feelings, which wasn’t true. Clapping him on the shoulder, Calum grabbed his surfboard and exited the shop, leaving Luke confused and Joey with an even bigger frown on her face. 

Why the fuck was he so confusing?

***

“Oh, fuck.” Calum cursed under his breath as he watched another, cocky and selfish, surfer swim up on Joey and take her wave right out from under her. There were some competitive surfers in their town, it wasn’t a secret, but Calum was hoping to avoid them while he and Joey were in the water. Calum knew that Joey wasn’t really ready to go up against any other surfers, wasn’t as strong, and he was worried about what would happen. 

It was unexpected and Joey hadn’t even seen the much bigger and better surfer swimming up next to her, too focused on trying to surf the wave she knew she could catch. Caught off guard, a guttural scream left her lips, catching the attention of Calum and the rest of the few surfers scattered around the beach. Calum was instantly alert, ignoring everything else around him as he watched Joey’s body fly through the air.

Her body hit the water, hard, her head smacking against her board and the impact from the huge wave and the pressure of the water splitting her board in half. “Fuck,” Calum cursed again as he paddled towards her, trying to see if he could spot her, but could only see one half of her board, the waves too hard and too big to be able to see her just yet. “C’mon, Joey.” Calum nervously cracked his knuckles.

The waves kept coming at her, the cord of her board still attached to her ankle and stuck in the coral that cut her leg up, and as the seconds passed, Calum grew more and more anxious. She had been under water far too long for his liking, so, ripping off his own cord, Calum dove into the water to find her. 

The salt water stung his eyes, but that was the least of his worries, all he could think about was Joey and making sure she was okay, and it wasn’t too late. He found her seconds later, eyes closed and her body floating in her own blood, and he was beyond thankful that sharks in the water they were in were rare. 

The next few seconds were a blur to Calum. He didn’t even remember pulling her out of the water and putting her on his board, quickly but safely paddling them out of the water and to the sand and screaming at the lifeguard to call an ambulance. He checked her pulse on her wrist and neck and panicked. He thanked God that Ashton made him take a CPR class in order for him to be a surf instructor, and went to work on Joey right away, trying to get her back to consciousness. 

“Come on, Joe. Don’t fuckin’ die on me.” Calum grunted, pressing his lips to hers and pushing on her chest. His panic and anxiety and worry dissipated, just the smallest amount, as Joey’s eyes fluttered open and she was sputtering water out of her mouth as she slowly sat up, coughing up all the salt water that invaded her lungs. “Oh, thank God.” Calum wrapped his arms around her, holding her head in his hands as it rested against his chest to steady her weak body. 

She was panting, tears in her burning eyes, her mouth dry, and her throat raw. She couldn’t speak, it seemed she didn’t know how. All she could focus on was Calum’s warm, bare chest against her cheek, his hands running up and down her back, and the sounds of sirens getting closer and closer. 

“Come on,” Calum helped her weak body to her feet and wrapped his arm around her waist. Her legs were wobbly and her left ankle had a deep, bleeding cut, so Calum tried to be as gentle as possible, “Let’s get you checked out, yeah?”

She sat on the edge of the ambulance, shivering, teeth chattering, and her usually pretty pink lips turning blue. The medic asked a series of questions and Joey simply shook her head yes or no, not being able to find her voice just yet, too in shock from everything that had just happened. 

“We’re going to take you to the hospital to get you checked out for a concussion and to stitch up your leg, miss. Is that okay?”

“Um, y-yeah.” Joey nodded her head, finally opening her mouth to talk, taking a deep breath from the oxygen mask that was covering her mouth and nose before removing it from her face. “That’s fine.”

“Do you have an emergency contact?” Joey shook her head no. “Is there anyone you want me to call?”

Ashton and Elise were out of town for the week for their anniversary and really, Joey couldn’t think of anyone else to call. Her mind was completely blank. It felt like it was full of sand and saltwater. “I’ll follow you there, yeah?”

Her gaze snapped up from her shaky hands to Calum, who was draping a light flannel over her half naked body, subsiding her shaking just a tiny bit. Joey almost forgot that Calum was even there, but how could she? He had just saved her life. 

“O-okay.” Joey rasped and Calum left a quick kiss on her forehead before the medics shut the doors behind them and took off to the hospital. 

Calum looked over his shoulder, seeing Colton, the guy who so carelessly knocked over and nearly killed Joey, laughing with his friends in the water, acting as if he didn’t almost just take a girl's life. Calum debated on paddling back out in the water to confront him about it, which would no doubt lead to a fight of some sort, but he figured that Joey and her wellbeing was more important, and he would leave talking to Colton for a different day. 

***

Joey hated hospitals. The last time she was in one she lost her father and she hadn’t been back to one since - a whole four years. She avoided them at all costs, but with a huge gash on her leg and a possible concussion, she knew she had to go with the medics. She would have rather driven there with Calum, but the medics told her that going with them was the best and most safe option, so she didn’t argue. She didn’t have the energy to argue.

“Hey,” Calum’a voice was quiet, knowing that Joey’s head was in pain and she still hadn’t fully recovered from the scary accident. Calum rubbed her bare thigh comfortingly, although he wasn’t sure how comforting it was, and lightly squeezed it. “You okay?”

“I think so,” Joey smiled tiredly. She was exhausted and her whole entire body felt heavy and weak, apparently almost dying takes a lot out of you. She played with the much longer sleeves of Calum’s flannel she still had on, opting to not wear the ugly hospital gown and sighed tiredly. “Thanks for saving my life.”

Calum couldn’t help but laugh as he scuffed his shoes against the linoleum floor. A small, careless shrug pulled at his shoulders. “Course.”

“Ma’am?” Joey and Calum both looked to their to see the doctor approaching them with a clipboard consisting of medical instructions to follow and her discharge papers. “You’re good to go now, but I recommend having someone stay with you for the first night just to make sure you’re okay and monitored. Is there anyone you can call to stay with you? Do you live alone?”

“I, uh, I-I live with my cousin but she’s out of town until Monday night.” Joey cleared her scratchy throat. “And I-I don’t know who else-“ 

“I can,” Calum interrupted. He figured he was going to have to drive her home anyway, and he definitely didn’t want her to be alone after what happened, and he had no other plans for his day, so he wanted to help as much as he could. “I mean, if that’s okay with you.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to inconvenience you, Calum.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Calum chuckled incredulously. If this had happened a month ago, Calum wouldn’t hesitate to just drop her off and leave her to fend for herself, but Calum, even though he didn’t want to admit it, cared about Joey. “You almost just died, Joe, I want to help you. It’s the least I can do.”

“You just saved my life, Calum. You’ve helped enough.”

“You’re not gonna win this argument, love.” Calum smiled sweetly at her. “Sign the papers so we can get you home, yeah?” The unexpected pet name had Joey’s very pale cheeks heating up and Calum mentally shaking his head at himself. Love? Where the hell did that come from? 

Joey nodded her head and scribbled her signature on the papers before handing them back to the doctor and hopped down from the hospital bed. They offered her a wheelchair to take out to the car, but Calum waved them off and patted his back for Joey to jump onto, which she did so easily. 

The drive was silent, until Joey nervously spoke up as she applied chapstick to her now pink, no longer blue, but chapped lips. “Can we, uh, can we not tell Elise about this yet?”

“What? You don’t want to tell her?”

“Just - just not today, okay? It’s her and Ashton’s anniversary and I don’t wanna ruin it, you know? I’ll call her and tell her tomorrow.”

“Alright, yeah.” Calum nodded in agreement. “We’ll wait.”

Joey sighed in relief and smiled in Calum’s direction, the car falling silent one more until they arrived at Joey’s house. She walked in easily, not needing Calum’s help any longer, but he kept his hand on her lower back just in case. 

“I’m gonna go shower and wash the salt water, near death, and hospital off of me.” Joey said, making her way to her room to shower. She was exhausted and all she wanted to do was lay down, but Joey knew that taking a shower would make her feel somewhat better. “Make yourself at home.”

***

“Can I tell you something?” Calum spoke, interrupting the content silence that lingered between them. They had been sitting on the couch in Joey’s living room after she had taken her much needed shower, binge watching Schitt’s Creek on Netflix. Joey and Calum were on either side of the couch, Joey with her back against the arm and her feet resting on Calum’s lap across the couch. 

“Mhmm.” Joey mumbled tiredly. The medicine she had taken and all the events of the day had taken a major toll on her and her eyelids were feeling way too heavy. 

“I was so scared I was gonna lose you today.” Joey’s eyes slowly went from the TV to Calum, who avoided eye contact with her, only looking at his hands that were resting on her ankles, his fingers lightly tapping them. “I-I really thought you were gonna die on me.” Calum chuckled sadly. 

“Well, I’m glad you don’t hate me enough to let me die.” Joey grinned at him lazily and he finally met her eyes. They both had small blushes on their cheeks, admitting it was hard for Calum, and it was even weirder for Joey to hear. 

“I don’t hate you.” Calum furrowed his eyebrows. 

Joey scoffed, rolling her eyes at him. “Right. I’m sure.”

“I don’t!” Calum exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air. He hated that Joey thought he hated her. “I’m serious, I don’t hate you. I’m warming up to you more and more everyday.”

“You really have an ass backwards way of showing it, Calum.” Joey joked, but there was a sad smile on her face that Calum didn’t miss. 

He knew he was a dick to her when they first met, and for a while after that, and he knew that she didn’t deserve it. Hell, she had done nothing wrong, he had no reason to treat her like such shit. It was hard for him to admit it to himself, but he found himself liking her the more he was around her. 

“C’mere,” Calum patted the cushion next to him and Joey slowly crawled over to him, pulling her knees to her chest and resting her chin atop them. The longer he looked at her the bigger his smile was. Before he could stop himself, he found himself, after thinking it for so long, blurting out and telling her, “You’re gorgeous.”

Licking her lips, Joey pulled them between her teeth to hide her smile. “So are you.” Joey wasn’t embarrassed to admit it. 

“Oh, yeah?” Calum’s eyes lit up.

Joey rolled her eyes and shoved his shoulder lightly, her body leaning into his closer than she intended to, but neither of them minded. “Don’t act like you don’t know you’re attractive, Calum.”

Their lips were close, so fucking close, and Calum couldn’t take it any longer. He was consumed by her. “‘M gonna kiss you now.”

Joey couldn’t help but smile. “Okay.” 

And that’s all it took for Calum to smash his lips against hers, gripping her hips and pulling her onto his lap. Without warning, Calum stood up, making an unexpected squeal leave Joey’s lips and he blindly walked them to her bedroom. His lips found her jaw and neck and Joey moaned quietly and Calum swore it was his new favorite sound, but he wanted to hear them louder. 

Their clothes were off in a split second, leaving Joey laying on her bed in just her cheeky panties and Calum in his tight boxers. He leaned up from her lips, biting down on his lower one hard at the sight of her almost completely bare for him. 

“So fuckin’ pretty.” Calum’s fingers ghosted over Joey’s skin, goosebumps covering her skin and he smirked, he already loved the way she reacted to his touch. His hands found the band of her panties, tugging them down without a second thought and threw them behind him carelessly. “Fuck,” Calum ran his fingers up and down her heat. “So wet for me.”

“Calum,” Joey whined, bucking her hips into his touch. “Do something.”

She was breathless, chest heaving and sweat already coating her skin, and Calum knew he couldn’t tease her, couldn’t deny her, so he dove right in, connecting his lips to her clit, sucking and licking, moaning against her. 

Joey’s fingers tangled in his curly hair, pulling and tugging, moaning loudly as she threw her head back into her pillows. It had been long, way too long, since she had been sexually intimate with anyone, so she was embarrassed when she was coming undone against Calum’s mouth so quickly as his fingers worked inside of her.

“Need t’feel you.” Calum mumbled against her lips as he worked on taking his boxers off. He hadn’t thought about a condom, that was honestly the last thing on his mind, and he prayed that Joey, or Elise, had them somewhere in their house. “Condom.”

Joey shook her head, their lips parting for just a second as she panted. “Birth control.”

Calum swore she was going to be the death of him.

***

“I can’t believe you didn’t call me!” Elise said, frustratingly running her hands down her face. She and Joey were in the kitchen, sitting at the island, discussing Joey’s accident and Joey felt like a child getting reprimanded by her mother. 

“I’m sorry, El! I just didn’t want you to- wait,” Joey narrowed her eyes at Elise, noticing the new, huge, diamond ring that adorned her ring finger. “What,” Joey took Elise’s hand in hers. “The hell is that?”

“Oh, uh,” Elise laughed nervously and took her hand back, twisting the ring around her finger, smiling at the memory of Ashton getting down on one knee just three nights prior and asking her to marry him. It didn’t feel real. “Ash - he proposed.”

“What?” Joey exclaimed happily, the smile taking over her face, completing forgetting about their small argument about Joey not telling Elise about her near death experience. Joey jumped on her cousin, giving her a bone crushing hug filled with happiness. “How could you not tell me this?!”

“It was supposed to be a surprise,” Elise shrugged, acting nonchalant, but inside she felt like her body was going to erupt from butterflies and happiness. It had been five years since they met and she knew they would end up getting married, but she didn’t expect it so soon. “We’re having dinner tomorrow night here and we’re inviting everyone, we wanted to tell everyone at the same time.”

“Ah! This is so exciting!” Joey was unbelievably happy for Elise and Ashton, she knew how in love they were, and she couldn’t wait for them to make their love official. 

“Thank you,” Elise giggled, squeezing Joey’s body lightly before releasing her from their long hug. “But we’re still not done talking about your accident. And about you and Calum.” Joey sighed, but knew she was not getting out of either conversation. 

***

“What’s this dinner all about?” Michael asked as everyone sat around the long outdoor table on their porch. It was the perfect night out, with it being around eighty degrees with a light breeze, it was the perfect night for a nice, friendly dinner. 

“Maybe they just wanted to do something nice,” Luke shrugged as he sipped his beer. They all were instructed to bring their bathing suits, too, if they wanted to swim after dinner, and almost everyone did, minus Michael’s girlfriend who could only stay for dinner. “We haven’t gotten together in a while. I think it’s nice.”

“Okay, guys!” Elise clapped her hands together, gaining everybody’s attention, with Ashton by her side with his arm draped around her shoulders. She had her hand hidden behind her so nobody would notice the sparkling diamond on her finger. “I know you guys are wondering why we invited you over, and we want to-”

“We’re getting married!” Ashton interrupted her, not wanting to wait any longer. He held up Elise’s hand to show off the impressive ring he had saved up for for so long purchased, and nearly everybody shot up from their seats to gush about it and admire the ring. 

“You don’t seem all that surprised,” Calum mumbled into her ear, causing involuntary goosebumps to rise on her skin. Calum wanted to give the couple their space as everybody else crowded them to give them hugs and congratulations. 

“I already knew,” Joey shrugged innocently with a small smirk on her face. She wanted to tell Calum, or anybody, she really did, since she was awful at keeping big surprises and news like that a secret, but she knew she couldn’t. Neither Elise or Ashton wanted anybody else to know. “I saw the ring when she got home.” 

“Hm,” Calum hummed, pressing his lips to her exposed shoulder, due to her spaghetti strapped dress she had on. Calum couldn’t keep his eyes off of her since he walked inside of her and Elise’s house. The white, silk dress she wore that exposed all of her legs, back, and arms, made her look incredibly sexy. “Love is just in the air tonight, huh?”

“I suppose it is.” 

Nobody really knew what was going on with Calum and Joey, they didn’t even really know what was going on with them, all they knew was that they were immensely attracted to each other, and they knew there were some feelings there, but they didn’t know the extent of it, and everybody knew better than to ask. 

Their lips met and the kiss was light and quick, but everybody saw it, and the smirk that took over Luke’s face was hard to miss. He knew that something would eventually happen between them, he could just feel it in his bones, but he didn’t want to push anything between them. Luke knew, in due time, that they would realize the attraction and the feelings they had for one another was undeniable. 

***

“So,” Luke nudged Joey’s shoulder with his own as they sat next to each other by the side of the pool. Joey didn’t want to get into the pool, so she opted for sitting with her legs dangling in them with Luke next to her, his jeans pushed up to his knees since he didn’t bring anything to swim in. “You and Cal, huh?” Joey just simply shrugged, a smile taking over his face as she sipped her Sangria that she and Elise made through her straw. Luke rolled his eyes, not happy with the lack of words from Joey. “What’s going on with you two?”

“Honestly?” Joey looked at Luke. “I’ve got no clue, Luke.” 

“He likes you,” Luke stated simply. “I can tell by the way he looks at you. He hasn’t looked at anyone like that since his first girlfriend broke his heart.”

Joey furrowed her eyebrows, not having a clue about Calum’s past relationships, or past anything, really. She was interested, of course she was, but she wasn’t going to pry and she wasn’t going to force Luke to tell her. If Calum wanted her to know, he would tell her, simple as that.

Calum swam up to them, shaking his wet hair in their direction, splashing little bits of water over Joey and Luke. His hands found her calves under the water and gave them a light squeeze. “Watcha two talkin’ about?”

“Just how sexy you look swimming,” Luke winked at him, causing Joey to giggle into her drink and shake her head at the two best friends. Calum rolled his eyes, but ignored Luke, turning his attention to Joey. 

“You gettin’ in?” Joey shook her head no, not quite in the mood to get her freshly washed hair and perfectly done makeup messed up. And she didn’t feel like walking all the way up to her bedroom to change into a bathing suit. “Hm,” Calum hummed, pressing his lips to her thigh. “Think I’m gonna change that.”

“What do you-”

Joey squealed as Calum gripped her hips and pulled her from the side of the pool, fully into the pool with him. Her dress rode up above her hips, exposing the fact that she was wearing no underwear, thankful that it was dark and the water was covering them. “Calum, what the hell!” Joey wrapped her legs around his waist.

“You’re not wearin’ any underwear, are you?” He could feel the skin on skin and felt himself hardening at the thought of Joey being completely bare under her dress. She never failed to surprise him.

“Why don’t you find out?” Joey tilted her head challengingly and Calum bit his lip, sexually and in frustration at how easily Joey turned him on. It was driving him insane. Ever since the night they had mind-blowing sex, all Calum could think about was Joey.

“Hm, I think I just might.” In a matter of seconds, Calum had them out of the pool, he still holding Joey and her legs still wrapped around Calum’s waist, thankful that her ass wasn’t exposed to all of her friends that were in her backyard. “See you guys later!” Calum shouted to his friends, ignoring the hoops and hollers they received. 

Neither Joey nor Calum cared that their friends knew exactly what they were going upstairs to do.

***

“Why couldn’t you have asked Elise to come with you?” Calum complained to Joey as the two of them looked through dresses in a higher end boutique shop in the middle of town.

They were, or Joey was, shopping for a dress for Elise and Ashton’s engagement party that was coming up in just a little over a week. It had been a month since Ashton and Elise announced their engagement and it’s been crazy ever since. 

“She’s too busy planning the party.” Joey hummed as she sifted through the dresses, not finding any she liked, and if she did like them, they didn’t have her size or were way overpriced. She was almost close to giving up. 

“How ‘bout this one?” Calum picked a random one off the rack, holding it up by the hanger to show Joey. 

It was a pink, mid thigh, flowing, backless dress with a halter top that tied behind the neck. Joey’s eyes lit up at the dress that she had failed to see and took it from Calum’s hand. It was her size, surprisingly, and it wasn’t too costly. 

“I love it.” Joey grinned at him. 

“Well, go try it on!” Calum turned her around by her shoulders and ushered her to the fitting rooms where she happily stripped down and tried to the dress on. 

She came out shortly after, holding the top to her chest, spinning around, asking Calum, “Tie me up?”

“Gladly,” Calum smirked, thinking of all the other ways he could tie her up, as he moved her hair to one side of her neck and carefully and securely tied it. Spinning around, Joey looked at Calum expectantly, who was looking at her with wide eyes and a goofy smile on his face. “Gorgeous.”

“Yeah?” Joey blushed. 

“Always,” Calum held his hand out for her to take and raised it above both of their heads. “Spin for me.” Joey did so happily, a quiet giggle leaving her lips as Calum twirled her around a few times before pulling her into his chest. “It’s a winner.” He mumbled against their connected lips. 

“You sure? Because I can always try-“

Their cute moment was interrupted by a familiar voice that Calum hoped he wouldn’t ever have to hear again. “Calum?” They pulled apart just a tiny bit, with Joey’s hands still around his neck and Calum’s around her waist. 

Stood before them was the devil herself, also known as Calum’s first and only, ex-girlfriend. His grip tightened on Joey’s hips, only slightly, but she felt it. “Ava, hey.” He was unhappy and uncomfortable, Joey could tell instantly. 

“Uh, how are you?”

Calum had to repress his scoff. “Fine. You?”

“Good, good.” She nodded her head and looked between the couple in front of her. Calum’s arm was now slung over Joey’s shoulders and her arms were awkwardly crossed against her chest. She could feel the girl judging her. “Who’s this?”

“My girlfriend - Joey.” 

Joey’s head snapped up to look at Calum in surprise. It was the first time he had ever called her his girlfriend before, so she was extremely caught off guard, but not disappointed. She had been waiting to hear those words leave his lips for weeks now. She couldn’t hide the smile on her face. “Hi,” she waved awkwardly. 

“Joe, this is Ava, my ex.”

Joey had heard only one thing about Calum’s ex-girlfriend, and that was from Luke, and she didn’t push Calum to tell her, and she didn’t mind the thought of him having an ex-girlfriend, she had ex-boyfriend’s herself. But standing in front of her, a gorgeous model looking girl, Joey was feeling just a little bit insecure. 

“It’s nice to meet you,” Joey said sweetly, even though it wasn’t nice, not in the slightest. 

“Likewise,” Ava’s smile was fake and Calum could tell, but he wasn’t going to start something pointless by mentioning it. “So, what are you two out shopping for?”

Seriously? Calum wanted to scream. She really couldn’t have just left it at that? She had to try and spark up a pointless and meaningless conversation? Calum wanted to run away the moment he saw her.

“Ash and Elise are getting married. Shopping for engagement party dresses for Joey.”

“Oh?” Ava’s eyes widened in surprise at the news of her old friends getting engaged, and soon married. “You know Elise and Ashton?” She turned her attention to Joey. 

“Elise is my cousin,” Joey nodded her head, and told her condescendingly, “So, yeah, I know them.” 

Calum bit back his laugh and smiled at Joey’s attitude, but silently applauded her for it. He knew she didn’t want to be standing there talking to his ex-girlfriend just as much as he didn’t. “Well,” Joey cleared her throat. “I’m gonna go change back into my clothes and then we can go, yeah?” 

“Yeah,” Calum smiled, pressing a quick kiss to her lips as she retreated into the fitting room, leaving Calum and Ava to catch up, or whatever it was that Ava wanted from Calum. 

“She’s pretty.” Ava nodded her head in Joey’s direction. 

“She is, innit she?” Calum smiled. “And nice. And honest. A lot of things you weren’t.”

“Calum,” Ava shook her head sadly. “I’m sorry. For everything.”

He pursed his lips, clearly not believing any of the words that came out of her mouth. Ever since she broke his heart, he hadn’t believed anything. “Sure you are.”

The curtain swung open and Joey stepped out, dressed in her normal street wear, her purse hanging on her shoulder, and the hanger dangling on her finger. “Ready to go?” Joey smiled up at Calum. 

“Here,” Calum fished his credit card out of his wallet and handed it to Joey. “You go pay. I’ll catch up.”

“What? Cal, no.” Joey shook her head, not accepting the card that Calum was holding out for her. The dress wasn’t too expensive, really, just a little over fifty dollars and she could afford it. She appreciated Calum’s offer, but didn’t want to take it. “You’re not paying for this.”

Rolling his eyes, Calum easily shoved his card into the front pocket of Joey’s jean shorts, looped his fingers through her belt loops, and pecked her lips. “Don’t argue, baby. I’m payin’.” Joey rolled her eyes, but smiled nonetheless and made her way to the counter. Calum’s eyes followed his non-official-official girlfriend as she made her way to the cash register and smiled, but it turned into a scowl when he remembered Ava was standing in front of him, watching him watch Joey. “You have anything else to say before I walk away from you? For the last time?”

Ava shook her head sadly. “You look really happy, Calum.”

“I am.” Calum didn’t hesitate to confirm. 

“Well, I’m glad.” Ava rested a hand on his shoulder, making Calum almost flinch. Joey saw out of the corner of her eye and even though she could tell that Calum was uncomfortable, she felt uneasy, jealous. She hated it. “Give Elise and Ashton my love.”

“Yeah,” Calum exhaled a humorless laugh. As if. “I won’t be doing that.”

With that, Calum walked away from his ex-girlfriend who broke his heart, and over to his new girlfriend, who mended it back together. 

***

“So, ex-girlfriend, eh?” Joey finally brought up the dreaded conversation. She spun around in the small stool behind the front desk at Surf and Co., working the slow night shift that Ashton scheduled her with Calum keeping her company. 

“Canada, eh?” Calum smiled innocently, receiving an unamused look from Joey, who had finally stopped spinning. It had been five hours since they ran into Ava at the store and Joey was itching to say something and Calum knew it. “Right, sorry.” Calum knew they had to discuss it. “Yeah, Ava, ex-girlfriend.”

“What, uh, what happened?” Calum sighed heavily, twisting the rings on his fingers nervously, trying to figure out a way to start the story he was dreading on telling. “Luke mentioned something about her-”

“Luke told you?” Calum’s head snapped up.

“N-no! He just mentioned an ex-girlfriend that hurt you, but that’s all.” Joey assured him. She didn’t want Calum to be mad at Luke for mentioning anything to her about it, she just thought it might make things easier. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, Cal.”

“No, no. I should. You deserve to know.” Calum rounded the register, leaning against the counter next to Joey, spinning her around so she was facing him now. He smiled down at her, just the sight of her pretty face making his light up. “She was new in town a few years ago and I kind of, like took her in, much like you and Luke. But, instead of becoming just friends like the two of you, we-”

“Fell in love?” Joey mumbled.

“Yeah.” Calum scoffed. “I introduced her to everyone; all my friends, Elise, everyone. And she and one of my friends, Peter, hit it off well. A little too well. But I was happy about it, you know? Thought they were just friends. Until I found them in bed together. My bed.”

“Calum-”

“Instead of growing a pair of balls and breaking up with me, she took the cowards way out and cheated on me, so I broke up with her.” Calum frowned at the memory, but it didn’t make him as sad as it once did. He was completely over it, but the memory still stung. “She broke my heart.” He laughed sadly. 

“I’m sorry, Cal.” Taking his hands in hers, Joey gave them a reassuring squeeze, and bent down to kiss them. “Is that why you didn’t like me at first?” Joey hesitantly asked. “Because I was another new girl in town?”

Calum hadn’t ever even thought that could be a reason he disliked her so much, but thinking about it now, it all made sense. He didn’t want another new girl to come into his town and his life and turn it upside again just like Ava did. But he knew, with everything in his heart, that Joey would never do anything like that to him.

***

The annoying, incessant, vibrating of Calum’s phone had Joey putting her curling iron down and crossing his room to silence it. “Cal,” Joey shouted his hearing, receiving a mumbled ‘yeah’, from his bedroom. “Your phone is blowing up.”

“Who is it?”

“Uh,” Joey furrowed her eyebrows. “Number Isn't saved, but it says, ‘it was so nice to see you last night, Calum. I’m sorry about the kiss.’” Joey’s confusion could be heard through her tone of voice as she continued to read the text. “Kiss? What the hell, Calum?”

“Shit,” Calum cursed, hopping on one foot as he tried to put his dress shoe on the other. They were getting ready for the engagement party and Calum couldn’t have picked a worse time for Joey to find out what happened the night before. “I was going to-”

“Who the fuck is this?”

“Uh,” Calum nervously scratched his growing stubble. “It’s- it’s Ava.”

Spinning around, Joey held Calum’s phone in her hands with raised eyebrows and wide eyes. She could not believe what she was hearing. And she couldn’t believe how fucking casual Calum was acting about it. “I’m sorry, what? When were you with Ava? I thought you were with the guys last night.”

“I-I was, I swear I was!” Calum approached her, resting his hands on her shoulders to give them a reassuring squeeze, but Joey wasn’t reassured, not at all. “I bumped into her at the bar and she wanted to buy me a drink as an I’m sorry sort of thing, I guess? So then I bought her one to make it even and we talked for a few minutes and-and then she kissed me.”

Inhaling a deep breath, Joey took a step back from Calum, watching as his arms fell to his sides, and licked her teeth angrily. She was going to try to keep her cool and not explode, since it was Ava who kissed Calum, and not the other way around, but still, seriously? This couldn’t have happened on a worse day.

“Were you planning on telling me this?”

“Yes! Course I was, Joey.” Calum ran a hand through his perfectly done hair that Joey worked so hard on, fucking it up in the process, and nervously licked his lips. He didn’t want her to think he was a liar. “I just wanted to wait until after the party. I didn’t want to ruin tonight for you. For us.”

“Well, you should have thought that plan through,” Joey laughed sadly, shoving Calum’s phone in his hands as she picked her small clutch up from his bedside table. “I’m gonna go. I’ll see you at the party.”

Calum let her leave without another word, knowing that fighting her or trying to make her stay would just make matters worse, and although this wasn’t how the night was supposed to start, although they were supposed to arrive to the party together, Calum knew that wasn’t going to happen. 

***

“Now, a speech from the maid of honor!” Elise spoke happily into the mic, prompting Joey to stand up on wobbly legs and smile as she took the microphone from her cousin. She looked beautiful, but she always did, Joey thought. 

Calum watched his girlfriend with a small smile on his face as Joey nervously licked her lips and cleared her throat before giving her speech that she had barely prepared beforehand. “Elise,” Joey smiled down at her cousin. “Ashton,” Joey smiled at her soon to be cousin-in-law. “I’m so happy for the two of you. I never thought that I would be here, living in the prettiest town I could ever dream of living in, with the two of you and the new friends you’ve introduced me to, but I’m so happy to be celebrating this with you guys. I’m gonna keep this short, because if I keep talking I know I’ll start crying,” Joey laughed awkwardly. “But I just want to say I’m so, incredibly, happy for you two and I hope to, one day, find love like yours.” Joey sniffled quietly. “I love you, both.”

Joey finished her speech with a cheers and everyone held their glasses up, cheering along, and gulped down their drinks. Joey sat back down in her seat that was next to Calum, and felt his hand on her thigh, and as much as she wanted to shake it off, she couldn’t find it in herself to. She was still mad at him, but he looked so handsome, she couldn’t stand it.

“Can we dance, please?” Calum’s voice was full of desperation and when Joey finally looked at him, his beautiful brown, puppy dog eyes and pouty lips, her resolve crumbled. “Please, baby?” Calum whispered.

Joey stood up abruptly, looking down at Calum expectantly. “Well? Are you coming?” 

Calum wasted no time standing up and following Joey to the makeshift dance floor that wasn’t there when they first arrived, but Michael and Crystal transformed it into one. A slow song started playing and they swayed back and forth silently, but Calum’s hands on her waist were practically burning her skin. 

“I’m sorry, Joey.” Calum mumbled. He didn’t want to ruin the moment, but he wasn’t sure if he would get her one on one the rest of the night. He needed to explain how sorry he was. He knew what it felt like to be lied to and he never wanted Joey to feel that way. “I-I didn’t wanna lie to you, but I didn’t know how to tell you what happened.”

“Up front would have been nice.” 

“I know, Joey. But I just didn’t know how to-”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Joey interrupted Calum, scoffing out a humorless laugh at the person who just walked into the venue where the party was being held. There stood Ava, in all her pretty glory, looking way better than Joey did. “Your girlfriend is here.”

With that, Joey spun on her heeled shoes and stormed through the crowd to where the private bathrooms were. She gripped the sides of the sink until her knuckles turned white. The tears that pricked Joey’s eyes were unwarranted and she wanted to kick herself for letting this bother her so much.

The soft knock at the door a few minutes later had no effect on Joey. She kept her stance, kept her hands on the sink, and kept the tears falling out of her stinging eyes. “Joey?” Calum’s voice was heard through the door. “I know you’re in there.”

Joey failed to lock the door behind her, so Calum let himself in, hoping that it actually was Joey in the bathroom and not somebody else. He was relieved when he saw that it indeed was her, but his worry came back tenfold when he saw her glossy and red eyes through the bathroom mirror.

“How’s your girlfriend?” Joey stood straight and spun around to lean against the sink, crossing her arms across her chest, tilting her head to the side. She was trying to use her sarcasm and sass to cover the fact that she was upset, even though she knew she was being immature. It was her defense mechanism. 

“She’s right in front of me,” Calum took cautious steps towards her and rested his hands on her hips. He frowned down at her sad face and wanted to put a smile on it. She was too pretty to frown, Calum thought. “And she’s obviously upset with me.”

“You’re right,” Joey nodded her head in confirmation. “She is.”

“I told her to fuck off.” 

“Why the hell was she here in the first place, Calum?”

“It doesn’t matter why, Joe. She’s gone. She’s out of the picture, for good, I promise.” Calum’s hands ran up her hips to her sides, cupping her face to tilt it up so he could meet her eyes. They were less red and less glossy now, which he was thankful for. “And even if she keeps comin’ around,” Joey raised her eyebrows, unimpressed. “Which she won’t. I’ve only got eyes for you. Only want you.”

“I just-” Joey shook her head sadly. “I hate feeling like I have to compete with her, Calum. She’s-she’s so pretty and you loved her and-”

“Alright, no.” Calum shut her up before she could finish. “I’m gonna stop you right there. She doesn’t even compare to you, Joe. You’re gorgeous and beautiful and she doesn’t even compare to you, okay?”

“Okay,” Joey mumbled, but Calum could hear the underlying uncertainty and the insecurity laced in her voice. 

“I’ll show you just how much.” 

A squeal left Joey’s mouth as Calum hoisted her up onto the sink, parting her legs so he could stand between them and attached his lips to hers in a heated kiss. Their hands blindly worked on each other - Joey undoing Calum’s pants and shoving them down his legs and Calum’s pushing Joey’s thin and lace panties to the side. She was already wet, which wasn’t unexpected, and Calum was already semi-hard, so there wasn’t much more to take care of before Calum was slipping his length inside of Joey. 

“Oh, fuck.” Joey moaned against Calum’s lips as he rocked in and out of her. They tried to be as quiet as they could, considering there were people not even twenty feet away from them, but it was nearly impossible with how good they were making each other feel. 

They swallowed each others moans, panting and groaning into each other’s mouths and skin and Calum worked relentlessly until he felt Joey clench around him, prompting both his and her orgasm. Their moans and breaths were in sync as they came down from their highs and caught their breaths.

“That prove to you just how much I want you?” Calum mumbled against Joey’s bare shoulder due to the halter top of her dress and she laughed, with only little humor in it. 

Pushing Calum away from her, Joey adjusted her thong and jumped down from the sink. “You’re gonna have to work a lot harder than that, Hood.” With one pat to the chest, Joey rounded him and left him lonely in the bathroom with his pants around his ankles.

Calum stood there stunned with an unbelieving chuckle leaving his mouth. Joey left him speechless, more than once, but he was going to do whatever he could, work as hard as he could to prove to her that she was the only one for him.

***

“I can’t believe you’re moving out,” Joey pouted as she helped Elise pack the last of her stuff. She knew that with Elise and Ashton being engaged now that she would be moving out, but Joey wasn’t ready to live by herself, she never had before. “I’m gonna be so lonely.”

“Please,” Elise scoffed at her cousin’s dramatics. “I’ll be less than fifteen minutes away,” Elise reminded her, but it didn’t ease her sadness. Joey had never lived alone before. She always lived with her mother or a friend or boyfriend, never by herself. “And you can always call Calum and he’ll come over in a second.”

“Yeah.” Joey mumbled, unsurely as she taped the last box shut and rested her arms on it. The thought of Calum made her feel uneasy, considering they hadn’t really seen much of each other since the engagement party. They would hang out with friends as a group, but hadn’t one on one. “I think he’s mad at me.” Joey furrowed her eyebrows.

“Why would he be mad at you? He’s the one who kissed his ex-girlfriend.”

“She kissed him,” Joey reminded Elise. “But he’s just been avoiding me I think,” Joey frowned. “Like, he hasn’t wanted to hang out just us two, you know? And he’s barely been responding to my texts. I know he’s busy with surf lessons and has been with the guys, I just-” she shook her head, confusion written all over her face. “I think ever since seeing Ava, he’s changed his mind and he doesn’t actually want to be with me.”

“You’re being paranoid. Calum is crazy about you,” Elise assured her with a light squeeze to her hand. Elise knew Calum and she knew that he felt more for Joey than he ever did for Ava. It was obvious. “Just talk to him, yeah?”

***

The emptiness and the quiet of the house made Joey a bit uneasy. Sure, she had spent the night multiple times in her house by herself, but knowing that Elise was gone and not living with her anymore made it feel different and she didn’t enjoy it. 

Joey: Can you come over?

Joey sent the text to Calum after much debate, almost asking Luke to come over and keep her company over her own boyfriend. She wasn’t sure why she was so nervous to ask Calum to come over.

Calum: Course, love. Everything okay?

Joey: Just lonely

Calum read the text and didn’t bother changing out of his sweatpants and sweatshirt, just slipping a pair of shoes on and grabbing his car keys. He could have easily walked the ten minutes, but he was feeling lazy and wanted to get to Joey as quickly as he could. He didn’t want her to feel lonely, especially since she had him.

Joey had told Calum that the front door was unlocked, so he let himself in without bothering to knock or ring the doorbell, and his heart swelled at the sight of Joey curled up on the couch, tucked under a blanket in his hoodie, looking as cute as cozy as ever. 

“Hey, Joe.” Calum’s voice was quiet, not wanting to disturb her little bubble of peace, but when she heard his voice, her tired looking face lit up and she was holding her arms out to him, making grabby hands as she continued to lay down. He laughed at how childish, but cute, she looked and collapsed on top of her lightly. 

Joey’s arms wrapped around his neck and his slid under her back to squeeze her close to him. He wasn’t sure what was wrong, why she seemed upset and off, and he wasn’t going to push her to tell him, but he was still going to ask.

“What’s wrong, baby?” 

Sighing heavily, Joey ran her fingers through Calum’s messy curls and debated on telling him. It was stupid, childish, she thought. “It’s stupid.”

“Doesn’t sound stupid,” Calum lifted his head up from where it was hiding in the crook of Joey’s neck and placed a light kiss on her lips. “If something is upsetting you, no matter how small, ‘s not stupid.”

“I just,” Joey pushed herself up on her elbows so she was leaning against the arm of her couch and Calum rested himself above her on his elbows, his chin just barely resting on her stomach as he looked up at her. “I feel like ever since you saw Ava, and since she kissed you, you-you haven’t wanted to be with me as much.”

Joey avoided all eye contact with Calum as she picked her nail polish nervously. She didn’t want to see Calum’s reaction to her embarrassing confession and really didn’t want him to see the insecurity on her face, so she missed the deep frown that was on his. He hated that she felt that way.

“Baby,” Calum mumbled sadly and took her hands in his so she would stop picking at her nails, knowing it was her nervous habit, and kissed the tops of her hands lightly. “I don’t want you thinkin’ that.” 

Sitting up completely, Calum pulled Joey onto his lap and grunted as he adjusted the two of them more comfortably. Her head was held in Calum’s hands, with him tucking her hair behind her ears and watching her watch him.

“Seeing Ava just brought back bad memories, you know? And I just - the feeling of her hurting me so badly came back full force and I didn’t - I don’t ever want to feel that way again,” Calum shook his head. “I don’t want to get my heartbroken by somebody I love again.”

“Calum, I-” Joey spoke up before she processed all of his words, stopping short, and leaning back just slightly with wide eyes. “Wait,” Joey reached up to grip Calum’s wrist. “Somebody you love?” 

“Shit, I-” Calum ran a nervous hand through his hair. “I-I didn’t mean,” Calum stumbled over his words and Joey patiently waited for him to finish. She wanted to hear what he was trying to say. “I didn’t want to tell you like that.”

Joey’s voice was barely over a whisper, but she couldn’t help the smile that covered her face. “You love me?”

Calum loved that she was smiling. He was a nervous fucking wreck, honestly. He wasn’t sure if he loved her loved her, but he knew he liked her a whole fucking lot, and he could definitely see himself loving her. “I think so, yeah.” Calum finally smiled. “How’s that make you feel?”

“Makes me feel pretty damn special.”

***

“You comin’?” Calum asked Joey as he finished waxing his board, preparing it for the water. Elise, Ashton, and Luke were all already in the water waiting for Calum and Joey to join them. 

“Um,” Joey looked out at the big waves that were forming and felt nerves prick her. She hadn’t been on a surfboard since the day she nearly died. She had been in the ocean and the pool, but was too afraid to get on a board. “I’m gonna sit this one out. I’m tired.”

Calum could sense her nervousness and frowned as he bent down again to be face to face and level with her. Everyone else was already in the water, meaning if he was to join them, Joey would be let on the sand by herself, since Michael told Ashton he would pick up a shift at Surf and Co, and Calum didn’t want to leave his girlfriend on the beach by herself.

“You sure, Joe?” Calum moved her baby hairs that didn’t fit in her bun out of her face and smiled at how pretty her eyes looked with the sun shining down. “You just tired or are you scared to get in again?”

“Calum, I-” Joey licked her lips and shook her head in embarrassment. She didn’t want to admit that she was, indeed, terrified to get back on a board after what happened. It had been nearly a month since it happened, but she could still feel an anxious pit in the bottom of her stomach at the thought of standing on a board again. “It’s kind of embarrassing, but yeah,” Joey nodded her head in confirmation. “I’m terrified.”

“Baby, no,” Calum rested himself on his knees in between her legs and ducked his head down to make eyes with her. “It’s not embarrassing. You almost died, Joe, that’s some scary shit. I would be scared if I were you, too.” Calum placed a reassuring kiss to her lips and felt her smile against his. “I’ll sit here with you so you’re not alone, yeah?”

“No, no. Go out with them.” Joey shooed him away and he grinned, kissing her one last time, before standing up and picking up his board to race into the water with the rest of the group.

Honestly, Joey didn’t mind sitting on the sand by herself. She enjoyed watching her cousin and their friends surf and do their thing, she almost preferred to sit and watch over actually surfing, since she wasn’t the best at it, and she was convinced she would be scarred for life ever since she almost died. But she was content. 

She was knocked out of her daydream when a volleyball rolled onto her towel and hit her foot lightly. She looked around, seeing a volleyball net nearly twenty feet away from her, and a guy jogging over to her. She picked it up and held it out for the guy to take, not bothering to stand up.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” he panted and crouched down, bending his knees to retrieve the ball from Joey’s hands. She just smiled and simply shook her head, not bothering with a conversation with the guy. “You new around here? I don’t recognize you.”

“Uh, yeah, kind of.” Joey furrowed her eyebrows. “I’ve lived here for a few months.” 

“I’m surprised I haven’t noticed you before,” he looked her up and down, even though she was sitting down and leaning against a cooler, and shamelessly checked her out, not even trying to be discrete. “A gorgeous girl like you shouldn’t go unnoticed by anyone.”

Joey rolled her lips into her mouth, trying to suppress her laugh at the shitty attempt as a pick-up line. “Well, thank you.”

“Anytime,” he winked at her and she nearly groaned out loud. She saw the guys and Elise approaching them from the water and hoped that Calum, or any of them, would nicely tell him to get lost. “I never got your name.”

“That’s because she didn’t give it to you, Colton.” Calum grunted as he shoved his board into the sand next to the guy, Colton, that was shamelessly hitting on Joey. He stood up to his full height, still a few inches shorter than Calum, and dropped the volleyball on the sand next to his feet. “What are you doing bothering her?”

“I’m just having a conversation with her, Hood.” Colton shrugged and smirked at him cockily. Colton looked down at Joey, who was only paying attention to Calum and how angry, but sexy, he looked. “Seemed like she was enjoying it.”

“Seems like she wasn’t,” Calum took another step closer. “So, leave my girlfriend alone and fuck off.” Another step. Joey could tell that the guys behind him would pounce and back him up if a fight ensued. “And while you’re at it, apologize to her for almost killing her.”

Colton scoffed. “Fuck are you talking about?”

“The girl you knocked off her board last month when you were being a cocky asshole and surfed up on her wave?” Calum tilted his head to the side, watching it click in Colton’s brain that Joey was the girl he nearly killed. “Yeah, that girl? My girlfriend. So I suggest you apologize or walk the fuck away, Colton.”

Colton bent down and picked the volleyball up, not bothering to look at Joey or apologize to her before he stalked away, leaving Calum staring at him with his hands clenched into fists. Joey knew the only way he would calm down is if she told him to. 

Standing up, Joey pulled her bikini bottom out of her butt to rid herself of her wedgie from sitting down for so long, and stood in front of Calum, running her hands up his stomach to rest on his shoulders, and his eyes instantly went from Colton down to Joey.

“You good, Cal?” Calum looked back up to see Colton standing there staring at the couple, and Calum smirked, gripping the back of her thighs to lift her up and wrap her legs around his waist. “Cal!” Joey squealed at the sudden movement and laughed against his mouth as he pressed their lips together.

“I’m fuckin’ great, sugar.” Calum grinned against her lips and spun her around, the loud giggle leaving her lips made his grin widen. 

How Joey could turn Calum’s mood from complete and absolute shit and anger from seeming like the happiest person in the world was beyond him. It was crazy, really, but he welcomed it with open arms, and with her in his.

***

“What’s got you so happy?” Luke nudged Calum’s shoulder with his own, holding his near empty beer by the neck as they sat in the semi-crowded bar. The group hadn’t been out to a bar in a while, since before Ashton and Elise announced their engagement, so they were enjoying their night out. “You’re grinnin’ like a damn fool.”

“How could I not be happy when I have a girlfriend that looks like her?” Calum pointed his beer bottle in the direction where Joey and Elise were playing a game of pool, not taking it seriously at all, and laughing and messing around with each other. “Don’t think I’ve ever been this happy.”

“I can tell,” Luke nodded his head with a smile. He was extremely happy for his best friend and as he watched Calum watch Joey lose against Elise in pool, he couldn’t help but shake his head in disbelief, never having seen Calum so happy around somebody before. “You got lucky.”

“Luckiest guy in here,” Calum clinked his bottle against Luke’s and made eyes with Joey, who grinned widely and waved him over across the bar. Forgetting all about his half empty beer and Luke, Calum got up and crossed the bar, wrapping his arms around Joey’s waist from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder. “You wanna get outta here?”

“I thought you would never ask,” Joey sighed dramatically, hanging her pool stick up, and the two of them left without bothering saying goodbye to their friends. They walked hand in hand down the street, Calum twirling his tipsy girlfriend as they walked and grinning at her infectious smile. “Let’s go swimming!” Joey skipped backwards down the sand with her heels in her hand and her arms out as she spun around and ran towards the water.

“It’s dark out, baby.” Calum laughed, but toed his shoes off and shed his shirt and pants, watching as Joey did the same thing. “Gonna be weird creatures in there.”

“You scared, Hood?” Joey challenged, reaching behind her to unclasp her bra, leaving her completely naked in front of Calum underneath the moonlight. Calum’s mouth watered at the sight of her and watched her teeth clamp down on her lower lip as he, too, was now naked in front of her. 

They swam around, splashing each other and giggling against each others lips, and Calum finally pulled her body into his, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist and her arms around his neck. “I think I just realized something,” Joey hummed against his shoulder.

“What’s that?” Calum squeezed her hips.

There was no nervousness or hesitance in her voice while she spoke, her words were confident and full of sureness when she told Calum, “I love you.” She spoke as if it was the most casual thing, but instead her heart was pounding and she was scared, only for a minute, that Calum wasn’t going to say it back.

“I love you a whole fuckin’ lot, Joey.”

Their smiles were so big, so genuine, that their faces hurt and they knew, right there in that moment, that they couldn’t be any happier even if they tried. 

Just as they looked up at the night sky, a shooting star flew by and they didn’t have to wish for anything because they both had what they wanted - each other.

***

Taglist: @singt0mecalum @lockthisheartinchains @babyurart @cheyenne-in-wonderland @youmaycallmemrshemmings @cantbehandled-ever​ @gosh-im-short​ @cakesunflower​ @novacanecalum​ @cosmocalum​ @emma070900​ @asht0ns-world​ @blahehblah​ @inlovehoodx​ @softboycal​ @ashtoniwir​

[artificialqueens]

Galactica, Chapter 45 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). 💫

Last Chapter: Aiden’s jealousy worsened, and Bianca invited Courtney to lunch.

This Chapter: Courtney, Adore and Violet all receive unexpected invitations.

***

It was kind of amazing. How Courtney could be sitting across from one of the most influential, powerful women in New York and feel so...well, comfortable. She knew that any sane person would feel horribly intimidated in this situation, but Bianca just kept on making her laugh so much, it was like she forgot to be nervous. Or...well, she wasn’t exactly not nervous, but it was a fluttery kind of excited nervous, curling pleasantly in her abdomen as they bantered back and forth.

“So...what class are you taking later?” Bianca asked, stirring her latte.

“It’s a street jazz class at BDC,” Courtney replied.

“BDC?” Bianca raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, it stands for Broadway Dance Cen-”

“Yeah, I know what BDC is, I’m not a moron,” Bianca interrupted, and Courtney bit back a laugh, finding her abrasive style somehow endearing. “I just didn’t realize you were a dancer.”

“Oh. I’m not really. I just uh...want to get into music. Eventually. Like, pop music. When I got to New York, I went on a bunch of auditions, and I realized that my dance background was nowhere near strong enough to be competitive-” Courtney stopped abruptly. Was she saying too much? As nice as Bianca was, she was also one of Fame’s best friends.

Bianca didn’t seem concerned though, simply listening, nodding, a soft smile on her face. She really was so beautiful. Courtney’s heart hammered a bit faster.

“Do you mind...um...not telling Miss Fame about that? I don’t want her to think I’m not committed. I just, feel like she’d disapprove, and I really need that job, so-”

“Your secret’s safe with me.” Bianca’s smile deepened, dark eyes shining.

“Thanks.” Courtney smiled back as the waitress set down their food, relieved.

“So how’d you end up at Galactica, anyway? It’s not exactly a direct path from there to being a pop star.”

“Uh, it’s kind of a long story. I was applying for like, any job that would let me stay in the country, and when I saw the opening with Miss Fame, I was thrilled. And then Adore and I were at this club, and we ran into Violet, and...I guess she kind of put in a good word for me.”

“Huh. I wouldn’t have expected that,” Bianca mused.

“Why not?”

“Well, it’s just… Violet’s always seemed a bit...uptight as fuck?”

Courtney had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing out loud, explaining, “She takes her work very seriously.”

“Oh yeah?” One of Bianca’s brows raised a little, challenging. “Do you?”

“Of course! I’m so lucky to have that job, a million girls would kill to be in my shoes. And Miss Fame, you know, she’s a great boss.” Courtney blinked at Bianca, watching her muffle a laugh with her hand. “What?”

“No, nothing. You’re just cute when you lie.”

That fluttery feeling was back in Courtney’s belly, stronger than ever, as she insisted, “I’m not lying! She’s great! You’re her best friend, you should know-”

“Exactly. I’m her best friend. That’s how I know you’re lying.” Bianca bit down on a sweet potato fry, eyes twinkling.

“Okay, maybe she’s a little…”

“Yes?”

“Well, she’s not the easiest boss, or the most predictable, but that doesn’t mean she’s not a good one.” Courtney crossed her arms, a pretend little pout on her lips.

“Fair enough.”

And with that particular landmine safely side-stepped, Courtney let out a relieved sigh.

“Hey, uh, here’s a question. Do you have any Thanksgiving plans? I know you’re not American, so-”

“Really, what gave that away?” Courtney asked, lashes fluttering.

“Lucky guess,” Bianca laughed. “Anyway, Adore and I usually go home to New Orleans. But my sister Liz is going through a divorce and she’s apparently just an absolute cunt to anyone who dares even look at her. So we decided to stay in town and avoid that nightmare altogether.”

“That’s nice. Very supportive.”

“Hey, I’m paying for her attorney,” Bianca defended herself, and Courtney laughed. Of course she was paying for her sister’s divorce attorney; she was quickly proving to be one of the most generous people Courtney’d ever met. “But yeah, so...would you have any interest in joining us?”

“Really?”

“Sure. I know Adore would love to have you there,” Bianca said quickly, and after a moment of hesitation, added, “And hey, I’d like to encourage her to hang out with people who read. So, you know, win win.”

Courtney bit her lip, Bianca’s sarcastic deflection as she folded up a napkin in her hands making the whole thing painfully cute.

“No pressure, I just, uh...wanted you to know you’re welcome.”

“I would love to,” Courtney said, feeling a bit overwhelmed at the invite, knowing that this was a holiday people spent with family. “I should warn you though, I just went vegan.”

“Oh shit, invite rescinded.”

Courtney giggled, twirling a lock of her hair. “I know, I've already lost 3 friends over it. And I think I’m on very thin ice with Adore. Sorry.”

“Nah, it’s no big deal. I actually eat a lot of vegan food, even tried it myself for a few years,” Bianca said. “I am a lesbian, after all.”

Courtney leaned forward, intrigued. “Is that like a thing?”

“Oh yeah,” Bianca nodded.

“Why do you think that is?” Courtney asked, lifting her glass to her lips, trying to find the straw without looking.

Bianca thought for a moment and then said, “Well...part of it is probably just lefty-feminist politics. And then of course there’s the purely unscientific belief that a plant-based diet makes your pussy taste amazing.”

Courtney choked, spitting out some of her smoothie, cheeks flushing hotly.

A mischievous smile spread across Bianca’s face as she handed over some napkins. She looked both terribly amused and a bit proud of herself.

“Sorry,” Courtney sputtered, wiping up the mess. “I was...not prepared for that.”

“I hope I didn’t destroy your innocence,” Bianca said, voice soft and teasing.

“I’m not that fragile. I’ve been Adore’s best friend for 4 years, remember?” Courtney reminded her.

“Right.”

As Courtney set down the napkins, she looked up and caught Bianca’s eyes again, both of them breaking out into matching grins. She couldn’t quite explain the way her heart thumped faster every time they looked at each other--all she knew was that looking into Bianca’s warm brown eyes, she felt better than she had in months.

***

“Fame?”

Patrick toed his shoes off, resisting the urge to dump his tennis bag by the door. He played tennis every other Saturday morning, tennis and his occasional swims the only form of exercise he had ever found bearable, even though Fame had tried to get him turned into yoga more times than he could count.

Patrick waited for a second, either expecting his wife or his dog to come down to greet him, but neither happened, instead,  all he could hear was the faint sound of the TV.

“Fame? Darling?”

Patrick put his bag down, vowing to himself that he’d remember to come back and pick it up, before he made his way into their townhouse.

He found her in the living room. Fame was sitting on the couch in a silk robe, the TV on, the curtains drawn, Charles' head resting on her lap.

“Did you have fun?”

“We finished 5 sets.” Patrick smiled, Fame not actually asking how he had done at tennis, the rules of the game on the long list of things she didn’t care about, though she had shown up to watch him play, the shorts apparently making it worth it. He walked over to the couch, sitting down and leaning in to give his wife a kiss on the cheek, when he felt Fame’s hand on his face, blocking him.

“Don’t-” Fame turned her head, pulling herself away from her show as she looked at Patrick through her fingers. “I just had my skin done, and I refuse to let you mess up my microneedling.”

“Ah. Glad it’s not a chemical peel month.” Fame always looked absolutely insane after those, her skin flaking off. It was rather disgusting, and he tried not to be around for those, seeing your wife shed like a lizard weirdly enough rarely doing wonders for a sex life.

“Shut up.”

Patrick grinned, and Fame smiled as she pushed him back, Patrick settling in on the couch so Fame could snuggle up against him, her head resting on his shoulder. “And what are we watching?”

“Snapped.”

Patrick had to hide a snort, Fame absolutely devouring any and all true crime media. When she’d first gotten addicted to that particular show, all about women who murdered their partners, he’d wonder if she was trying to tell him something. Her response when he’d asked, “Keep asking questions like that and you’ll find out,” had made him burst out laughing, his wife’s sardonic, grisly sense of humor one of the things he loved the most about her, only coming out in rare instances but always a delightful surprise. Almost as surprising as her porcelain chicken collection.

“Your bag better not be flung anywhere.”

Ah.

Busted.

***

Katya hummed to herself as she was setting the table, a bottle of wine for Trixie and sparkling water for her chilling in the fridge.

Trixie was locked up in their bedroom, working away on the cost predictions for the Spring prêt-à-porter collection, sweating over numbers and doing everything he could to make sure everything was running smoothly.

He had promised her to come out for dinner, so Katya had arranged a surprise, a gigantic order of Chipotle on its way.

“Hey Katya?”

Katya looked up from where she had been folding the napkin, to see Pearl leaning against the doorframe, her arms crossed. She was wearing a pair of drop-crotch sweats and a sleeveless jersey tied up around her midriff, certainly not her typical going-out clothes. Was it possible that she was staying in? On a Saturday?

“Everything okay?”

Pearl gave a slow, unconvincing nod, walking forward a few steps.

“Are you sure about that?”

“How did you know that you wanted to be with Trixie forever?”

Katya paused, the napkin still in her hand as she considered Pearl’s question. Normally, she would have made a joke about Trixie’s luscious butt, but judging from Pearl’s face, this wasn’t the time.

“I honestly…still don’t know.”

“Please,” Pearl sat down heavily in one of the kitchen chairs. “I’m serious.”

“So am I,” Katya smiled. Pearl and Trixie had been friends for forever, but they didn’t become best friends until after Katya and Trixie had started dating, Pearl moving in with Trixie while she was in rehab for that final time. “I liked being single. I liked having little whirlwind romantic flings and then going back to starfishing across the bed when they were over.”

Pearl laughed, shaking her head, and Katya declared a small victory for making her crack a smile.

“If I’d been single forever, I’d have been perfectly fine.”

Maybe not perfectly fine, but Pearl didn’t need to know that, the things Katya had done before Trixie came into her life not really things she was particularly proud of.

“I liked being free.” Katya shrugged, trying it out.

“Mmmh?”

Bingo.

Katya hid a smirk, Pearl straightening up the moment freedom had been mentioned.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out that Pearl was struggling in her relationship with Adore, that her friend was probably freaking out about being with someone for any extended amount of time, since Katya had never seen Pearl do anything like what she doing now, long-term relationships not really the Liaison brand.

“But I met Trix, and I like him more than freedom. Or, well, that’s not really accurate. Actually…” Katya sat down beside Pearl. “The truth is, I feel my freest when I’m with him. Knowing that he’s in my corner. But I mean, knowing for sure? I just don’t think certainty is in my nature. Luckily, it’s in his. That’s why we’re a good team.”

“Yeah. That makes sense. You guys are a good team.” Pearl sighed.

“Do you feel like you guys are a good team?” Katya asked carefully.

“Sometimes. I mean...we’re a lot alike. Maybe too much alike. I dunno.” Pearl avoided Katya’s gaze.

“Here’s a question...are you happier with her, or without her?” Katya asked.

“I...don’t know.”

Katya reached for Pearl’s hand. “Pearl, listen. I like Adore, a lot actually. I think she’s sweet and beautiful and funny and she obviously cares about you so much. But I also think that stringing her along when you’re feeling like this...it’s not fair to either of you.”

“I just don’t want to give up so fast!” Pearl exclaimed. “I always do that. I promised myself that I would actually try this time.”

“Well, then maybe you just need to be reminded of why you got together in the first place.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

“Also...now I don’t want to sound like I’m preaching here,” Katya began.

“No, it’s fine. I asked for your opinion,” Pearl said.

“Well...in my experience...it’s really hard to maintain any kind of real relationship--friendship, romantic, whatever--if you prioritize your ego over the other person’s feelings.”

Pearl blinked at her for a few seconds, letting the comment sink in, before dropping her head to the table with a soft, “fuck…”

Katya chuckled and leaned forward to kiss the top of her head. “You’ll be alright.”

***

“Drink drink drink drink drink drink drink drink YEAHHHHHHH!” The girls cheered as Adore finished her beer and slammed the empty glass down on the table.

Adore laughed, wiping her mouth, looking around at the group. Originally, when Courtney had introduced her to these girls years ago as “my sorority sisters,” she was picturing stuck-up, prissy little spoiled brats, who would judge her and never accept her - the punk rock lesbian who walked around in bare feet and no bra most of the time.

She was pleasantly surprised when they ended up being fun, and mostly turned their Mean Girls Judgement on others, or each other. Somehow Adore became the untouchable and beloved mascot of the group, the cool, alternative one who gave them all street cred. Tyra loved her because they were both from the South, both from big families and both of them possessed deeply developed bullshit detectors. Tati enjoyed doing shots with her and wreaking havoc (and was good for a sloppy drunken makeout session at least a few times a year) and Morgan - well, Morgan was kind of a cunt, but in the very best way. It was part of her charm, and, as she explained it, part of her Scottish heritage.

This night out with her friends was exactly what she needed to take her mind off her current relationship drama. She’d only spoken to Pearl once since their fight the other day, and it was tense, Pearl claiming to be running into a meeting. After that, nothing. No messages, no calls--she still wasn’t 100% sure where things stood between them.

Adore turned to Courtney, who absentmindedly stirred her drink with a straw, staring into space. She’d already noticed a bit of a change in her mood from a week ago - there was definitely something lighter about her. Still, quiet wistfulness wasn’t her general M.O. in a club - usually she was the first one on the dance floor. Adore nudged her gently with a hip.

“Hey.”

“Hi,” Courtney turned to her with a little smile, green eyes soft.

“Are you having fun?”

“Of course! I always have fun with you,” she said, wrapping her arms around Adore’s waist and cuddling closer, laying a head on her shoulder.

Adore pressed the kiss to the top of her head before asking the other question on her mind, “So...um...what’s going on with you and my sister?”

Courtney’s head snapped up, eyes wide. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I heard you hung out today…and that you’re joining us for Thanksgiving?”

“Oh. Right. No, I just ran into her by chance.”

“Where the hell are you hanging out, where you run into someone like that?” Morgan asked. “The fuckin’ SoHo house?”

“It was a bookstore.”

“Ugh, smart bitch.”

“And like…she bought me lunch because she knows I’m poor,” Courtney explained, “and since you guys will be in town and I don’t have family here, she just asked if I wanted to come.”

“Oh yeah, no big deal,” Tyra cut in, “She just took you on a date and then invited you to a family holiday…”

“It wasn’t a date!” Courtney said, laughing. “It was really all just very casual. She was just being nice.”

“Being nice for no reason. Sounds like Bianca alright,” Adore said, one eyebrow raised, and Courtney giggled again, shrugging.

“Maybe she’s nicer than you think.”

“Listen, Courtney, I’m glad you’re gonna be there because I love you. But just...you know, my sister is very...uh…”

“Yeah?”

“No, she’s great. Like, she’s the best. But…” Adore trailed off, grabbing a shot from the round Morgan was setting on the table and tossing it back.

It felt weird to be having this conversation. Did she really need to warn Courtney about Bianca? After all, B had joked about hitting on her before but never actually done anything. And what would she even say? ‘My sister is very good at charming the pants off every girl who catches her attention--especially the blondes’? ‘Beware the dimples’? She was certain that Bianca would never make a move on someone who didn’t want it, so...why not just leave it alone?

“You know what? Nevermind. Whose phone is that?” Adore felt her pocket, realizing that the out of control buzzing was her own phone--hopefully not her sister being an impatient cunt about Courtney’s number.

PEARL: Hey. I’m sorry about how I acted on Thursday.

PEARL: And yesterday

PEARL: There’s a warehouse party in Brooklyn tomorrow

PEARL: At the navy yard. Wanna go?

PEARL: It’s right by Grimaldi’s…

PEARL: Best pizza in NY

PEARL: My treat

ADORE: So you like pizza again, huh?

PEARL: It’s my favorite ;)

ADORE: Lol, okay, I’m in. <3

Adore looked back up at her friends, grinning at the group. “Let’s go dance!”

***

Sutan wasn’t nervous.

He wasn’t, because that would be ridiculous.

Sutan took a sip of his coffee, watching people walk by the cafe he was sitting at. It was a surprisingly sunny Saturday for October, the air crisp and fresh. He had already waited for 20 minutes, Violet once again late, but Sutan had asked for a chocolate croissant with his first cup of coffee, his girlfriend's time management skills surprisingly terrible.

Sutan was planning to invite Violet to Aspen with him, Raja and Raven for their annual ski trip. It was a tradition of theirs, Raja and he owning a cabin together that they visited every year. He wasn’t a brilliant skier, but he liked the mountain air, the sense of freedom, and of being disconnected while out on the slopes.

He had thought about inviting Violet along for weeks, Raven needling him about whether or not Violet would be coming with him.

Sutan wanted Violet to join them. Wanted to see her all dressed up in winter wear, wanted to teach her how to ski and have drinks by the fire in the evening.

There was just the teeny tiny insignificant detail, that the last time he had asked someone to come with him and Raja to Aspen, it had been a terrible time.

He didn’t hate Kahmora, at least not any more, their divorce lasting longer than their marriage, but he still felt a sense of dread every time he visited L.A. - which was why he avoided the city as much as he could, Kahmora thankfully relocating once they severed ties.

Violet wasn’t Kahmora though, actually, they were as different as day and night.

“Hey.”

Sutan turned his head to see Violet come walking towards him, her coat closely around her, her new bag in hand, and Sutan was glad he had splurged for the largest model Dior made, the purse already stuffed.

“I’m so sorry I’m late,” Violet pressed a kiss against his cheek, sliding in on the other side of the table, her dress brushing against him. “Have you eaten?”

“I was waiting for you.”

Violet didn’t need to know that he already finished a chocolate croissant, that sin between him and his trainer.

“Ah,” Violet looked guilty for a second, brushing a bit of her hair behind her ear, her earring of the day a tiny golden hook. “Sorry, I was at work and time just flew by-”

“Work?” Sutan twisted his wrist, taking a peek at his Rolex. “It’s 10:33 on a Saturday?”

“I went in at 6.” Violet picked the menu up, the fact that she tried to pretend that she wasn’t going to order avocado on rye kind of cute. “I know I have to turn my dress over to tailoring sooner or later-”

“But you want to finish as much as you can?” Sutan smiled, emptying his coffee cup. “Of course.”

“Don’t make fun of me.”

“I’m not,” Sutan held up his hands in defense. “Promise.” He couldn’t help but sneak a peek at Violet’s right hand, her fingertips thankfully not the raw red points he had helped wrap and put ice on. “It’s just very dedicated-”

“This is my first chance to get an actual piece on the runway. It has to be perfect-” Violet was cut off as the waiter came over, Sutan hiding a grin as she ordered avocado on rye, his second breakfast a plate of scrambled eggs and salmon.

“Speaking of perfect.” Sutan moved his chair while the waiter walked away, his stomach tied up in a knot. “I was wondering, if…”

“Yes?” Violet tilted her head, clearly listening, her brow eyes resting on his face.

“If you’d like...” Sutan had no idea why this was so hard, “to come to Aspen with Raja, Raven and I in January?”

“What?” Violet looked genuinely confused.

“Raja and I own a cabin, and-”

“Like, in Colorado? Like Aspen Aspen? Like posh skiing Aspen?”

“Yes?” Sutan lifted a brow. “Do you know any other Aspen?”

“No, but I-” Violet bit her lip, her white teeth sinking into it. “I don’t know how to ski?”

“Oh,” Sutan laughed, the admission not at all what he had expected. “Well, lovely eyes.” Sutan smiled. “I can promise you, that that is not a problem.”