#i’ve been sitting here for like 5 minutes trying to put more coherent thoughts together but i do not have them . just staring at the wall

[violaeadde]

jsut finished the traitor baru cormorant

[sour--disposition]

Baby Steps

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harry lewis x fem!reader

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Request: Can I have an imagine where Harry accidentally gets you pregnant but no one knows your dating and you are scared to death but he is really good and it all is okay in the end and the rest of the sdmn are very supportive in the whole situation when they first find out about not only the two of you dating but also of the pregnancy. Thanks xx

I’m super open to doing a part two of this where baby w2s meets the uncles and we get super cute harry and baby fluff so lmk if thats something else i should add to the to do list

please check my masterlist to see if requests are open

They were taunting you. The two lines on the stick. It was like they were laughing at you, enjoying the turmoil erupting in your gut. Maybe that was the baby making itself known. Who knows?

What was Harry going to say? Neither of you were ready for a baby, were you? Harry’s career was only growing at this point, the sky was well and truly the limit for the Sidemen and for Harry himself. You couldn’t jeopardise that with an accidental pregnancy. It could ruin everything.

You’d been safe, you were on birth control, for Christ's sake. Yet, here you were, having a face off with 3 pregnancy tests.

You texted your best friend, Gee, immediately, asking if you could come over. She replied instantly, worrying about you but telling you to come over whenever you wanted to.

“What’s wrong?”, Gee asked as soon as she opened the door to you. She looked up up and down, checking you for damage.

“I’m pregnant”, you whispered. “I was late and I thought it was just my birth control fucking around with me but I’ve been really ill the last couple of days and I just thought that I’d take a test and rule out that silly possibility because no way am I pregnant but I am and-”

“Breathe, Y/N”, Gee told you firmly, taking your hand in hers and dragging you over to the sofa. “It’s going to be okay”, she said softly, pulling you into her arms. “Does Harry know?”, she asked.

“No, I came straight here”, you whispered. “Oh, shit. The guys don’t even know we’re together. I think Freezy does but... Hi guys I’m actually Harry’s girlfriend surprise also surprise, I’m pregnant”, you said in a put on, over the top, happy voice. “My God, my life has gone to shit, Gee”, you huffed, slumping back onto the sofa.

“It’ll be fine. It’s your body, Y/N, and it’s your choice what you do with it. If Harry is supportive, that’s great. If not, you’ve got me, and the girls and Will and his friends. Whatever option you pick, you don’t have to do it alone”, Gee told you reassuringly, running her hand comfortingly up and down your arm. “You need to tell Harry and then you can take it from there”.

Gee let you sit with her for a little while longer, letting you calm down and get your thoughts together before you attempted to face Harry. You texted him, asking if he was free and if you could come over. He replied quickly, thank God, telling you to come over whenever you wanted.

“You can ring me whenever, okay? And if you need to come here after, you don’t have to ring, just come straight over. Let me know how everything goes, yeah?”.

The drive to Harry’s was stressful. You seemed to hit every red light possible, and every driver in front of you seemed to have zero sense of urgency. You tapped the steering wheel impatiently, flicking through the Spotify playlist you’d set when you left Gee’s.

By the time you’d parked up and gotten to Harry’s front door, you were practically shaking where you stood. The nerves were wracking through your entire body. Forget butterflies, there was a whole stampede going on in your stomach.

“Hey”, Harry smiled once you’d finally knocked on the door. “Are you okay? You don’t look too good”, he said, worry written plainly across his face.

“Is Freezy here or is it just us?”, you asked, chewing on your lip.

“It’s just us”, Harry said simply, taking your hand in his and guiding you over to the sofa. Once you’d sat down, he rested his hand on your knee. “You’re really worrying me, Y/N. What’s wrong?”.

“Promise you won’t be mad?”, you asked, voice small. Harry nodded, moving his hand to hold yours. “I’m pregnant”.

Harry seemed to lose all control of his face. His mouth dropped open slightly in shock and his hand around yours slackened. “I-”, he spluttered. “I thought we were safe”, he said quietly.

“We were”, you said, voice watery as tears started to fall. “There’s, like, a less than 1% chance. I’m so sorry”, you said, voice cracking slightly with emotion.

“Don’t be sorry, don’t cry”, Harry shushed. He seemed to snap back to reality there and then. He bundled you into his arms, carefully pulling you closer to him. He gently wiped the tears off of your face, leaving his hand there to cup your face. “Don’t ever be sorry”, he whispered, leaning forward to kiss you.

“But the boys and your channel and they don’t even know about us”, you rambled. “I don’t know what to do, Harry”, you whispered into the soft fabric of his hoodie.

“It’s your choice, Y/N. It’s your body. I’m not going to force you to have a baby that you don’t want to have, but I’ll be there every step of the way if you choose to keep it”, Harry told you.

“What do you want?”, you asked him quietly. “In an ideal world, what do you want?”.

“Ideally? This would’ve happened a little bit later. But I love you, Y/N. I’ve known from day one that I love you. I want nothing more than to have a family with you and if thats a little bit sooner than we first thought, then so be it. But I’ll be here, no matter what decision we make. All I ask is that you include me. No matter what choice we make, I’m not going anywhere”, Harry said. His thumb came up to swipe at a few more tears that had fallen.

You looked at Harry in awe. “Of course I want this with you, Harry. There’s nothing I want more. Sure, a couple more years would’ve been great. But we can do this, right?”, you asked, voice wavering only slightly.

“Yeah, we can”, Harry smiled. His hand moved from your thigh to your stomach, cupping around what would become a bump in the next few months. “Hi, baby”, he cooed softly, dipping his head down to rest on your chest. “I love you and your Mummy so very much”, he hummed. A smile fell into place on your face as you let yourself bask in the soft moment for a little while.

“Do you want to tell your friends?”, you asked Harry a few minutes later.

“Yeah”, he said simply. “I wanna be a good dad to my baby and that has to start from now. I think they know I’ve got a girlfriend, but I want you to meet them properly finally. And I’ll tell them there and then about Harry Junior. If they can’t get on board, then that’s a them problem”, Harry said with a sense of finality.

“We are not calling this baby Harry Junior, no matter how great of a dad you are”.

-

You were nervous, but not nearly as nervous as when you’d told Harry that you were pregnant last week. You were sat with Harry on the sofa of his living room, waiting for the rest of the Sidemen to come around. You’d already told Cal, it was kind of hard to deflect the question when he came into the room to see Harry affectionately cradling your body and stomach.

“What if they hate me?”, you asked Harry, leg bouncing in anticipation.

“You know them already, sort of. They won’t hate you. You’re amazing”, Harry promised.

“Yeah but they don’t know me as your girlfriend or the mother of your child”, you stressed. Harry opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by a knock on the door.

“That’ll be some of them”. Harry bounced up to open the door, returning to the room followed by Vik, Tobi and Josh. “I got a text from Simon, him and JJ are down the block in an Uber”, Harry said, quickly returning to his spot next to you.

You made small talk with the 3 boys and Harry until JJ, Ethan and Simon arrived. The wait couldn’t have been any longer than 5 minutes, but to you, it felt like a life time.

Once everyone was situated around the living room, Harry gestured at you awkwardly. “So, you know Y/N”, he started, sounding unsure of himself. He was met with a round of nods and ‘mhm’s. “We’ve been together for just over a year”, Harry said bluntly.

You were surprised by the lack of surprise in the room. “You dragged us all the way over here to tell us something we all already knew?”, Vik asked, looking around at the other boys.

“Yeah, it’s not exactly a well kept secret, Harry”, Simon laughed with a smile on his face.

“Oh, well...”, Harry trailed off, blushing and spluttering slightly. “There is something else, though”, he said quietly. “You’ve said I’ve been a bit off the last week and it’s because I’ve really needed to speak to you lot about something”.

“You aren’t pulling a JJ, right?”, Josh asked with a dramatic sigh. “I can’t do diss-tracks again, man, it feels like a fever dream”, he whined. Everyone around the room let out a low chuckle and Ethan poked at JJ’s shoulder, purposefully trying to wind him up.

“No, it’s not about that”, Harry laughed nervously. Harry looked like he was trying to find the words, but he was too nervous to string any of them together to form a coherent sentence.

“Last week I found out I’m pregnant”, you said, squeezing Harry’s hand gently in your own.

The shocked faces almost made you burst out into laughter. Over the last week, it was all you and Harry had talked about and it helped the both of you come to terms with the reality of the situation. It was still daunting, but you knew that you weren’t doing it alone which lifted a massive weight off of your chest.

Shocked faces soon broke out into huge grins. “Congratulations!”, Josh beamed from the other side of the living room. “How far along are you?”, he asked you.

“I’m not too sure, I have a doctors appointment tomorrow because I need to know if my birth control will have done any damage. But I’d say maybe 8 weeks, give or take”, you smiled.

“You had a good time in Italy then, Harry?”, JJ teased from his spot in the chair, earning him a swift swat from Simon. 

Harry’s face screwed up in confusion. “What does our anniversary trip have anything to do with - Oh...”, Harry trailed off, cheeks immediately setting alight with a pinkish red blush. You couldn’t help but giggle, leaning gently against Harry’s side. “Wait, how did you know about our anniversary trip?”, Harry asked.

“Like we said, Harry. You aren’t very subtle”.

[ohmyjinsus]

i wish you would

choi yeonjun x gender neutral! reader

exes to ??? || 2.3k

I’ve started this new thing where I put all of taylor swift’s songs on shuffle and write a fic based off the first one that comes on (let's see how long this lasts lmao) - this is the first one uwu

summary: after impulsively breaking up with yeonjun, you realize that was the stupidest decision you’ve ever made and spend the rest of your week wishing you could have him back (idk just go listen to the song)

“I can’t do this anymore.” Your voice is so quiet, you aren’t even sure Yeonjun can hear it through the phone.

“Is this because of last night?” He asks. “I’m sorry y/n, I know you’re busy with school. I didn’t think you’d want to come.”

“No.” You don’t mind that he went to a party without you. He’s right, you would have said no anyway. “I heard you were getting a little too friendly with some people.”

“Are you jealous?” He sounds shocked. “We’ve been together for 2 years, you know I would never cheat on you.”

“I know,” you reassure him. “I’m just worried.”

“Worried about what?” His voice is softer now.

You wish you were having this conversation in person so you could see his facial expressions, but you’re so upset. You had to talk to him as soon as your friend called you. You’d already been insecure about your relationship these past few weeks. When you heard that your boyfriend was flirting with her, your anxiety got even worse.

“I know you love me,�� you say slowly, sitting down on your bed. “But we haven’t seen each other in a week, Yeonjun. Maybe you don’t miss me as much as I miss you.”

“I can’t believe you would even think that. I don’t want anyone but you.”

“I’m sorry,” you tell him. “I just miss you.”

“I know baby,” he sounds just as upset as you. “I’m sorry too.”

“What do we do?” You grab the plushie on your bed. He won it for you at some carnival you went to ages ago. You’ve been sleeping with it ever since.

“What do you want to do?” Yeonjun asks. “In my head, I know you’re right. I can’t see you as often as I used to, but I don’t want to leave you.”

The thought of more nights like these makes you want to cry. Just a few months ago, you were spending all your time at his house. Staying up until 2am talking about everything was your normal. Then all of a sudden work and school and countless other things popped up and now everything’s fallen apart. Yeonjun’s been a constant in your life for the past two years, even longer, but the two of you can’t keep up with it anymore.

Not being a part of his day breaks your heart. Hearing about what he’s up to from other people hurts even more. You don’t know if you can handle that. You’ve already drifted apart. Staying together might just make things worse.

“I think we should break up.”

“y/n no,” he whispers. “Please don’t.”

“I can’t-”

“Can I see you? Right now?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Yeonjun only lives a few streets over. It would take him less than 5 minutes to get to your house.

“Why not?” He asks.

“I’ll cry.” Your voice gets even smaller. You hug your plushie tighter, trying to ignore the fact that it smells like him.

“y/n, I just want to give you a hug.”

“No,” you tell him, surprised at how firm you sound. “No,” you say again, softer. “I can’t handle that right now, I might change my mind.”

“I want you to change your mind.”

“Yeonjun, come on,” you sigh. This would be so much easier if he agreed with you. “I don’t want to drag this on any longer than necessary.” He stays quiet for a few seconds.

“Okay,” he says, finally. “If you want to split up, that’s okay.”

“Are you sure?” You ask. Part of you hopes he’ll fight with you and tell you he’s not leaving. Another part of you is relieved.

“No,” he admits. “Are you?”

“No.” That’s when the tears start to fall. You have no idea if you’re doing the right thing. The two of you have had conversations like this before, but none of them have been this serious. You’ve always been able to quickly resolve your issues, but you don’t think that’s possible this time. “But it’s for the best.”

“Sure, y/n.”

“Thanks.” You don’t know what to say. Yeonjun’s your first boyfriend, and this is your first breakup. You hope he can’t hear you crying through the phone.

“I’ll come pick up my things later,” he sounds like he might cry too. “I’ll text you.”

You nod, then realize he can’t see you.

“Okay.”

“I guess there’s nothing else to say then.”

“No, not from me.”

“Me too.”

“Bye Yeonjun.” You don’t even try to hide your sniffles at this point.

“Bye y/n,” he replies. “Love you.”

“Love you too.”

You hang up before he can say anything else.

===

You’re sitting on the floor with Yeonjun’s sweater wrapped around you. It’s been a week since you spoke to him. He hasn’t picked his things up yet, which you’re grateful for. That’s when the breakup will be real. You wish it wasn’t. If you could go back in time, you never would have hung up the phone that night.

You’ve been up at 2am countless times, thinking about Yeonjun, being with Yeonjun, but here you are, missing him instead. Every time you see headlights through your window, you pray it’s him. When your phone lights up, you hope you’ll pick up and hear his voice.

You would call him yourself, but you have a strong feeling he hates you. Ending your relationship was a stupid decision. You shouldn’t have done it in the heat of the moment. The two of you have been through so much together, surely you could make it through this rough patch. That’s what you tell yourself.

You can’t help but wonder if he’s thinking the same thing.

===

Yeonjun hasn’t been himself since you broke up. After that phone call, he locks himself in his room for days, refusing to speak to anyone. He ignores all his friends’ messages, unable to bring himself to talk to anyone. The only person he wants to speak to is you.

There are so many things he wishes he had done differently. He should’ve been more affectionate. He should’ve told you he loved you more often. He should’ve tried harder and been better. And he definitely shouldn’t have flirted with everyone. He knows it upset you but it’s just in his nature. He didn’t mean to push your buttons like that. No wonder it’s what broke you.

He contemplates showing up at your door every day, every hour even. But he’s scared you won’t answer, or that you’ll slam the door in his face. Maybe you’d yell and cuss him out for bothering you. He doesn’t know if it’s smarter to try and win you back or to just move on and forget you.

Yeonjun can’t sleep tonight, too consumed with all the memories of you. Earlier, he found a birthday card you wrote him early on in your relationship. You signed it with “love, y/n.” Although he’d never admit it, it made him cry then. It makes him cry even more now.

All he knows is that he needs fresh air. He runs downstairs, grabs his car keys and leaves. He doesn’t know where he’s going, he just needs to get out.

Now it’s 2am and he’s driving past your house.

He’s spent countless days there, in your room, falling in love with you over and over again. Since you split up, he’s been driving by your house every day. He doesn’t have the courage to walk up to your door. He can’t even find it in himself to call you.

He puts his foot down, speeding up to get past your house quicker. He’s going 70 in a 40 but he doesn’t care. This is the last time he’ll do this, he tells himself.

But as Yeonjun pulls onto his own driveway, he hesitates. Maybe it was the card, he’s not sure. He can’t get your smile out of his head.

Something makes him put the car into reverse.

===

You know it’s late, but you need fresh air. Whenever you felt this way before, Yeonjun would take you for a walk around the block. He said it would help clear your head. He was right.

All the reminders of him are still in your room. You don’t have the energy to put everything away. It scares you to imagine life without him. But sitting alone with those memories feels just as terrible.

Stuffing your phone in your pocket, you sneak down the stairs and outside, hoping no one will hear you.

It’s weird being out here without him. You miss holding his hand and making him laugh. If you’re being honest, you miss everything about him. He’s everywhere you look, constantly in your mind.

While you think, a car comes speeding by, making you jump. Your immediate thought is to call Yeonjun. Whenever you were out by yourself, he would always come pick you up right away. You wish he would do that now. You felt so safe with him. Now, you just feel alone.

Checking your phone, you see it’s 2:15. You pull your sweater tighter around you. Yeonjun will probably come get it soon. It’s one of his favourites.

As you turn around and start walking back to your house, your phone rings. You glance at it, expecting it to be a random number.

When you see Yeonjun’s name, you almost drop your phone. Once you answer, you don’t even know what to say.

“y/n.” You almost start crying. It’s only been a week, but it feels like a lifetime since you’ve heard his voice. “Why are you out so late?”

“What do you mean?” You stop walking, wondering how he knows you’re out.

“I can see you by the stop sign.” Your head whips around, scanning the area, looking for him. “I’m on your left.”

You spot him, a few metres away, standing right by his car. When he notices you looking, he starts walking in your direction. You can’t move. Part of you thinks this might just be a dream.

Once he’s in front of you, it takes all your strength not to throw yourself into his arms. You end the call, putting your phone back in your pocket.

“You didn’t answer my question,” he says.

“Hm?” You can’t form a coherent though, you’re just so shocked to see him again.

“Why are you out right now?”

“Why are you out?” He laughs at how you avoid the question.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

You have to kiss him. Right now. The second your lips are on his, his arms wrap around you, pulling you closer. You missed this. You missed him.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you either,” you whisper when you pull away. Yeonjun’s still holding you tight.

“It’s been a terrible week,” you admit.

“I know, right?” He kisses you again. “I’m sorry, y/n.”

“Why are you sorry? I should be apologizing.” He shakes his head.

“I’m such a terrible boyfriend, I should have-”

“You came back.” You cut him off right away. “I pushed you away, but you came back.”

“I did.”

“Thank you,” you say quietly.

“I missed you too much.” You nod, agreeing with him.

Another car speeds past as the two of you stand there, in each other’s arms. That’s when you remember how late it is.

“What do we do now?”

“Let me take you home.” He unwraps himself from you, taking your hand instead. Once your fingers are interlaced, you give him a squeeze. He smiles.

“y/n, promise me something,” Yeonjun says as you walk over to his car.

“Sure.”

“Never leave me again.” You roll your eyes as he opens the passenger side door for you, but you still give him a kiss.

“Don’t worry,” you tell him. “I won’t.”

He holds your hand the entire way back to your house. Normally you would scold him, telling him how unsafe that is, even if it is a short trip. You don’t mind it today.

When he drops you off on your porch, you beg him to come inside. He laughs and tells you no.

“I’ll see you tomorrow y/n.”

“For sure?” He holds out his pinky so you do the same. Once he pinky swears, you smile.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that, and the day after that-”

“Don’t make me break up with you again.” His eyes go wide. “What?”

“So we’re back together then?”

“Um,” you hesitate. “Yes?”

“Good.” He kisses your cheek. “That’s what I wanted.” You smile up at him, glad to have him back. You really meant it when you said you wouldn’t leave him again.

“Me too.”

[leafs-lover]

If He's Lucky I'll Let Him Join

Part 5: The moment when

Series Masterlist

A/N: This piece takes place immediately after part four.

Warnings: A little softness, swearing, mentions of drinking, smut 18+, (if you are a minor DO NOT READ), oral sex (female receiving)

Word Count: 4700

You don’t know how it happened.

Fred pulled you in for one final kiss at the door. His hand slid down the outside of your winter coat before finding your hips to pull you back towards him. The kiss even though partially in the hallway open to anybody coming or going was full of passion. His tongue covered in your flavour, licked the inside of your mouth while you gripped his tousled red locks to pull him towards you, closing the gap.

It was hot. So hot you almost walked back inside and closed the door behind you. But you had been there for two days straight, and he had a virtual meeting in a couple hours with some of the trainers and medical staff to go over a plan for his rehab. But it was extremely hard for you to step back.

Reluctantly you pulled away and walked towards the elevator but everything was hazy, the kiss fogging your brain. You heard the elevator ding and when the doors open you were met with a man, a plain black mask disguising most of his face. Even with the mask you immediately recognize the dark brown eyes and hair curling out under his hat. “Hey Auston,” you smile stepping in only to be greeted by a big black and white pile of floof jumping on you.

Ignoring his greeting you immediately bend down to your knees to pet the bernadoodle in front of you. “Oh aren’t you just the cutest,” you say, in your puppy voice, “Felix,” you add in noticing the name on the collar tag. Pulling your mask down slightly he licks up your face causing you to laugh almost knocking you over.

“Ugh,” you laugh turning so the next lick is on your cheek. “Normally I expect dinner first Felix,” you joke.

“Sorry, manners aren’t his strong suit,” Auston laughs, helping you back to your feet.

“How did I forget you have the cutest fluff ball ever?” you practically ignore Auston most of your attention on the energetic pup in front of you. Bending over to keep petting Felix, he sits in front of you constantly giving you paws, big black eyes eagerly smiling up at you.

“You never spend time at my place,” Auston chuckles. “We were actually just going to go for a walk, want to join us?”

You don’t even think you considered it, just completely distracted by the dog. How could you say no to his big black beady eyes and wagging tail? So you nodded and walked off the elevator while he led you to a nearby park. You were there for twenty minutes or so while Auston threw the ball and you eagerly gave Felix pets every time he returned it. Returning back to his building he asked if you wanted to come up for a drink and you agreed.

You remember him offering you wine before putting on the office. You started lying in the corner of the “L” shaped couch, with your head on his shoulder during the first two episodes. You descended into a comfortable conversation barely even paying attention to the show that plays in the background. He told you about growing up in Scottsdale, trying to become a hockey player while living in a desert.

You told him about your time in school, what inspired you to be a teacher. You talked about your families, him showing you pictures of his two sisters and sharing stories. It was fun seeing this side of him, getting to know him.

It’s not like you haven’t spent time with him over the past few months, you had hours together. Countless dinners with him, even fallen asleep beside him a time or two, but every time Fred was there with you. You only see him when either you or Fred asks about inviting him over. Over half your time with Fred is with Auston but you still have time without him.

Some nights after dinner Fred would do the dishes while Auston would lead you down the hall to his room. He would normally only give you a 15-20 minute head start, but most of that time you didn't spend talking.

This is the first time it’s just the two of you, no Fred. Not that you hadn’t seen Fred earlier, you still had some of his cum in your hair, and you could feel the burn of his beard between your legs.

You are really enjoying this side of him. It feels good, easy. But that was two hours ago. You have no idea how you ended up here.

On his couch.

Wearing his sweater.

Your leggings long gone.

Hands digging into your hips, tongue licking along your thigh.

Your hands anchored tightly into his locks, soft moans tumbling from your lips.

“This is nice,” he runs his hand over the navy lace fabric barely covering your core, “don’t think I’ve seen it before.”

“It’s new, came in a few days ago,” you gasp as his thick fingers dance over the cloth protecting your heat, forcing your head to fall back further and your hips to arch up. His fingers trail to your hip bone finding the early colours of a bruise, the bruises his friend left mere hours ago.

“Pretty,” he hums spreading your legs apart ignoring the marks on your body. He licks his lips slightly staring between your legs, fingers dancing along the lace.

“Some hockey player kept ripping my underwear had to get new ones,” you murmur. Auston chuckles in response, knowing that you are talking about him.

“’I’ll buy you a new pair,” he leans down placing some soft kisses on the inside of your thighs. With each caress of your most sensitive spot the desire pooling in your stomach only increased.

“Three,” you moan when his mouth presses the fabric into your clit, tongue gently flicking into it. Pulling back slightly he drags the fabric down your thighs with his teeth. “You’ve ripped three.”

Your hands tighten their grasp as he peppers kisses over your pubic bone. He nips the skin in the exact spot Fred did, causing some curse words to tumble from your lips. “I’ll buy you five just so I’m ahead of the count,” he chuckles the lace landing on the floor.

With a quick wink he drops his head back down, spreading your legs to showcase your glistening cunt. He licks his lips and wraps his mouth around your clit. You gasp and wince slightly, still sensitive from the time Fred spent down there mere hours ago. But that doesn’t stop him; instead it encourages him to press in further digging into your hips harder.

“God you taste so good,” he mumbles, flicking his tongue in and out. “Sweet as honey princess,” he adds, and you feel your walls flutter as the pet name rolls off his tongue.

“Aus,” you moan, barely audible, but he definitely heard sucking harder on your clit. Bucking your hips into his face-you feel him smirk against you. He encourages you, gently rolling your hips to bring you closer. The low burning in your gut slowly begins to bubble up. Legs clamp around his head, locking him against your heat.

Your legs tremble and incoherent sounds fall from your lips. Your moans are getting louder and louder, you tug harder on his dark brown curls. Skin is hot, burning into his lips. He groans into your heat, the feeling vibrating through your core and up your spine.

“I’m gonna cum,” you whine while his tongue continues to flick inside you. Over the past few weeks he has become very good at reading your body, recognizing the telltale signs of your orgasm sometimes before you do. He groans in response, pulling your body down, face smothered by your thighs.

“Fuck,” your hip arches up grinding further into his face. You begin to chant “Aus,” the second syllable getting lost in your pleasure. Euphoria floods your veins, your body tingles while little fires ignite throughout your entire body. The man between your legs doesn’t let up working you through your high, groaning while your juices spill onto his tongue.

“Fuck y/n,” Auston coos, slowly pulling his head away from your dripping heat. “You’re phenomenal.”

Crawling up your body he slides his tongue in your mouth, your body still in a post orgasmic haze. You can taste yourself on his tongue while his body presses against yours. Slowly your fog lifts and you deepen the kiss, moaning slightly when you feel his erection press against your thigh.

His large hand slides under your sweater, easily engulfing your breast in his large palm. Pulling the cup down he pinches your nipple smirking when you wince. But he has no idea the damage his friend left behind.

His tongue finds your neck, licking from your collarbone to your ear lobe. Pulling your skin through his teeth your entire body gets hot, sweat building in the valley of your breasts. Lips trail along your jaw then down your neck-leaving open mouthed kissed onto your skin. The feeling of his growing bulge against your dripping centre makes you moan again.

“Aus,” you barely manage a coherent thought as your sweater is pulled from your body leaving you in just a bra. He tosses his sweater aside, it landing somewhere amongst the clothes scattered on his floor.

“I like when you call me that,” he purrs in your ear.

“Take me to your bedroom,” you try to sound firm but it comes out as more of a desperate plea. Within seconds his feet hit the floor and he pulls you over his shoulder. Making his way through the living room and down his hall his large hand strokes over the back of your thigh.

You faintly hear Felix’s claws click against his wood floors. But when he brings a hand up placing a firm slap on your ass the sound fades, only able to focus on the burn of your skin. His hand soothes your bottom, before delivering another blow hitting the same spot.

“Auston,” you scold. With the back of his heel you hear his bedroom door slam shut, followed by a whimper from the pup on the other side. Your heart breaks a little for him but it doesn’t last long.

“Please you expect me to believe Fred wasn’t doing this to you a few hours ago,” he throws you onto the bed. Your eyes go wide as he pulls his shirt off tossing it towards the hamper, it landing a few feet short.

“You think I didn’t recognize the fucked-out look plastered on your face when you stepped into the elevator. Or that I don’t taste him on the inside of your thighs?” Before you can process his words his track pants are being shoved down his legs and he steps out them. Your eyes rake over his body, tattooed arm, broad shoulders and a firm rock hard chest. His long and deliciously thick cock springs free, slapping against his stomach. The swollen, flushed, pink tip oozing pearly white droplets of precum.

He quickly presses his body against yours, fingers tracing over the purple and blue marks that litter your hips. His fingers slowly follow the trail up your body, through the valley of your breast to your collar bone. His fingers work in the opposite direction of the trail Fred’s mouth left earlier in the day.

“You two have fun,” he asks sucking on your collarbone. Your back arches and he pops open your bra throwing it onto the floor. His mouth continues to press soft wet kisses over every bruise. You would expect some pain as he presses against the marks, but his touch is soft; featherlike, slowly drawing over the purple and blue. It’s almost soothing how his cold tongue caresses your sensitive skin.

That is until he finds your breast that Fred spent a lot of time on, sucking almost aggressively. You warned Fred a few times but he didn’t let up, instead sucking harder. He slowly dragged your nipple through his teeth; even nipping at the skin. At some point your entire breast became fully bruised but Fred still didn’t stop. Even when his thick dick was dragging in and out of your walls his mouth was still attached to your breast.

“I asked you a question princess,” Auston hums, nipping the skin around your nipple.

“Fuck,” you cry out feeling a tear hit the corner of your eye.

“You have fun with Fred earlier,” he asks more direct this time.

“Yes,” you hiss when he brings a thumb to press into your breast, swirling it on the bruises surrounding your nipple.

“Yeah, what did you guys do,” he muses pressing his throbbing erection against your hip. “Hmm princess. Did he use his tongue on you?”

Unable to focus, two of his large fingers dance over your folds. He gently plays with the opening, soaking up the juices that have begun to coat his digits. His tongue slowly draws up the valley of your breast and he sinks his teeth into your collarbone.

“He use his fingers to open you up?” his digits grazing over your clit with every swoop.

Your moans become incoherent; a mix of curse words and grunts. He slowly rolls on top of you, resting on his elbows, hands gripping your hair while his tip pokes at your entrance. “He make you feel this good baby?” slowly his tip begins to spread open your folds while he slides in.

“He stretch you like I do?” he bottoms out. Hips hitting hips, his length pressing into what feels like your stomach. “He fuck you like I do princess?” he pulls his hips back and slams back in, his face centimetres from yours. “Did your heat flutter around him with every thrust?”

Barely able to function you tightly grip his chain and pull his face closer to yours. Trying to bring his lips to yours, he skirts around, lips finding the shell of your ear.

“God I’ve wanted this for so long,” his pace increases while your hips roll up towards his. He drags his cock in and out of your soaking pussy, the sound from between your legs is absolutely disgusting but you love it. “I have wanted to fuck you away from him. Fuck you as much as I want, as fast or slow as I want, as many times as I want without Fred cutting in for his turn.”

Your mind is swirling with his admission. But you can barely focus or process it when he harshly thrusts in again. “Wanted to wrap my hand around your throat,” he brings his hand up resting it against your trachea. “Have you under me gasping for air with each thrust.”

“Aus,” you whimper as he begins to tighten his grip. Slowly air begins to leave your lungs, “remember the word princess?” You only have the strength to muster a slight nod. “I need to hear you say it,” he completely stops thrusting and eases his grip on your throat. His dick still seethed inside you, filling you until you almost overflow, but he remains still.

“Yellow,” you manage to croak. With a devilish grin his hips begin to rock in and out of you again his hand gripping your throat restricting the air.

“You’re such a good girl for me Y/N,” he mumbles.

After your weekend with Fred you didn’t think you can handle anymore. Your sensitivity makes it easy for your orgasm to come rolling through, and unexpectedly wash over you. You’re entire body jolts as he continues his long hard thrusts mumbling filth in your ear.

Coming down from your high he doesn’t stop, instead he picks up his pace. Headboard is rattling against the wall; your whimpers are getting louder.

“Aus, I need a minute,” you manage to choke out around his tightening grip on your hand.

“You need a minute you say the word, otherwise I’m gonna keep going,” he gives you a painful thrust, your head hitting the headboard. “Because I know you always want a minute,” he tightens his grip further restricting your airway, “but you don’t need it. In seconds you’re going to be crying out for me to hit you harder, faster. You just gotta wait for it princess.”

Your mouth opens into a silent O and your nails find the back of his neck, tugging on the hair. His dark eyes blown with fire burn down at you. His lips begin to curl when he sees your face change, pleasure taking over and eagerly seeking for your next release.

“There you go baby,” he smirks sensing your shift.

The hand on your throat is barely letting air through, but there is something about him saying the word baby that causes your body to tingle. He has never called you that before, always your name or princess. Fred calls you baby.

You would expect it to feel wrong, that guilt would wash over you thinking of Fred. Peering up into his eyes, while brown like Fred’s, Auston’s are much darker. You expect that to be the moment you are flooded with remorse, the weight of what you’ve done. Instead he is staring at you through hooded lenses, clouded with lust and it spurs you on.

You’re panting Auston’s name while your chest heaves, lungs still deprived of oxygen. Rolling your hips one leg wraps around his large muscular back and your heel digs in to hold him close to you.

Your pussy is swollen; it’s taken a beating this weekend you didn’t think it could handle. But here you are crying out for him to hit you faster, and of course he eagerly agrees. Your nails are firmly anchored into his skin, your other hand tangled around his chain pulling his face to yours.

His lips hover near your ear and he mumbles praise and filth to you. Auston has never been big on the dirty talk when it’s just the two of you. Once Fred is in the room the words tumble from his lips like sand in a desert, but when it’s just the two of you he is more reserved.

But not today.

Strings of filth are pouring out and you love it. His cock driving against your g-spot, hand cutting off your air supply and a vile tongue spewing venom in your ear. It all is becoming too much. And he knows it.

“Freddie make you cum this much?”

“He make you cum this hard?”

“He make you feel this good?”

“Fuck Princess, cum on my cock once more”

“Coat it in your juices”

Your ears ring and you don’t hear another word he says, but his warm breath indicates he is still talking to you. Your moan turns into a scream and with a final harsh thrusts euphoria floods you, your vision going white. Little shockwaves course through your body as you stop bucking your hips to meet his, your grip loosening on his chain and neck.

Still revelling in your post orgasmic haze, you feel him get sloppier as his climax draws closer. Breathing getting heavier and with a loud grunt he pulls out. Ropes of sticky white warmth coating your stomach. He pumps himself until he is dry, falling onto the bed beside you.

Your body is hot and clammy. Auston slowly draws a finger up and down your forearm as your chests heaves. Slowly you turn to look at him, sweat drenching the roots of his hair. He smiles when met with your face and hesitantly leans down. Millimetres separate your faces, slowly the gap closing. You take it upon yourself to pull his face down. You can taste the salt on his lips, his mustache tickling over your upper lip. “You need to trim this,” you laugh running your thumb over it.

“I like it,” he chuckles, placing another soft kiss on your lips. “Let’s go shower.”

“Ugh I can’t,” you groan knowing your knees will buckle if you try to stand.

“My shower has a bench you can sit on for a bit,” he presses his lips to your again. “But we need to clean this up,” he eyes down to the mess on your stomach. He is right, but still neither of you move; needing a few more minutes.

“You know you can,” you trail off slightly thinking over your thoughts but also recapturing your breath, “you don’t have to pull out.”

The feeling of cum inside you is relatively new, having felt it for the first time a year ago. The first time when you and Fred foregone a condom you were so infatuated with the thought of Auston, imagining his body on yours, it just slipped from your lips. You weren’t even sure if you meant it. But once you felt Fred spill inside you, sticky warmth dripping from your cunt and down your thighs, you couldn’t imagine it any other way.

The thought of it alone makes you wet. But one thing you have loved even more is when Fred’s cum is dripping from your slick, sometimes he will bring his fingers in. With a few thrusts the warmth is spilling out around his digits and he’ll bring them to your mouth for you to lick clean.

It’s like magic.

And you’d be lying if you hadn’t thought of what it would feel like to be full of both men. So much your walls are unable to hold it in, just a mixture of the three of you spilling out.

“Oh um,” his eyes dart around your face. His tone is soft and nervous before he continues, “we never talked about it, so I figured I should. That first time was…I uh…I didn’t mean to the first time. Just really in the moment, and you were so shocked when it happened. I actually felt like shit for not using a condom that night, let alone not pulling out. When the second time came around I figured I should at least pull out.”

“I mean Fred -” you start, but you don’t want to bring sex with him into this moment. “I work around kids so I am very good at birth control,” you laugh slightly. “It’s 100% your choice obviously. I’m just saying I wouldn’t hate it if you didn’t.”

Auston has a wide smile on his face hearing your revelation, and he brings you down for a sloppy kiss. Pulling away you are almost certain you could fall asleep, whimpering when Auston moves leaving you alone on the cold bed.

A few minutes later he is scooping you up and gently placing you on his shower bench. Leaning your head against the cool tile, steam filling the shower, you watch Auston. He shoots you playful winks and asks if you are okay before finally pulling you to your feet and rubs shampoo in your hair.

Once re-dressed and in his living room you notice it is getting late in the day, the sky beginning to get dark. Felix’s ears perk up and you immediately go to him giving him some pets before you head out for the evening. His tail eagerly slaps against the couch and you don’t stop until he places a few licks on your cheek.

Turning around Auston pulls you into his chest, holding you tight while you listen to the gentle beating of his heart. Grabbing a handful of his sweater you aren’t quite ready to let him go. Tilting your head upwards he smiles down at you. Felix eagerly joins the two of you, jumping on you, bashing against both of your legs. Auston softly brushes the hair from your forehead and stands feet firmly planted staring down at you with soft and tender eyes.

“I had a great time,” he finally whispers, but you get the feeling that isn’t what he wants to say.

“Mmm me too,” you mumbles in agreeance, but you’re not just talking about the sex. He closes the gap and brushes his lips against yours, the kiss starting out soft. It’s not until one of your hands slide up his back that he deepens the kiss, his tongue sliding inside your mouth. Hands snake down your body to your hips, but when he gives your ass a playful squeeze, you pull away laughing.

“Sorry”, he mumbles, but you can tell from the smirk on his face he is lying; it was 100% intentional.

“Think I can get your number,” he asks taking a deep breath. His voice is uneasy; it’s the first time in the months you’ve known him his confidence seems shaken. Before you can even take a breath he continues, “I always see these memes that make me think of you, but I can’t send them to you.”

A light chuckle gets caught in your throat, “right to send memes” you smirk, quirking an eyebrow to him. Pursed lips you gaze over his face for a few seconds, you can see his is nervous while he awaits your response. With a slight nod you hold your hand out “phone.”

Quickly he is in his pocket, unlocking the device and handing it to you. Putting your digits in you rise to your tippy toes and place a soft kiss to his cheek. “What time do you have to be up tomorrow,” he asks checking his phone, before putting it away. “If it’s not too early you could stay over,” he trails off at the end, his words coming out almost a whisper.

“I actually uh don’t,” you stutter.

“Oh is it a holiday of some kind?”

“Uh no…Long story but I don’t have a job right now, so I don’t have to be up in the morning.”

“You wanna talk –“

“Nope I do not,” you quickly cut him off, not wanting to relive it. “But I can stay,” you smile and he presses his lips back to yours.

“Felix is very excited,” he says and you laugh hearing the pup come up beside you with one of his squeaky toys. Pulling away you bend down to take his toy dinosaur from his mouth and throw it to the other side of the room for him to chase.

“Wait, what do you do with him when you’re on the road?”

“Steph, one of the guys’ girlfriends watches him.”

“Let me watch him,” you lean in to kiss his nose and he places a lick on your cheek.

“Well Fred thinks he’ll be out for a couple weeks. I’ll probably see if he can watch him,” Auston explains.

“Seriously? Why does Fred get to watch Felix,” you groan. Felix’s ears perk up when you say Fred’s name and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t slightly jealous he knows Fred’s name but not yours yet. You scratch his face, rubbing behind his big floppy ears while Felix leans into the pets slightly.

“He’s his stepdad,” Auston explains with a light laugh. “And I didn’t have your number until now, I couldn’t ask you.”

“Okay but now you do,” you pout as Felix spins in excited circles before falling to the floor for you to rub his belly.

“When Fred gets back to playing I’ll get you to watch him ‘kay”

“We would have so much fun eh Felix, get a million w-a-l-k ‘s a day” you spell the letters out so Felix doesn’t get excited. “So many treats and toys. I’m gonna be your favourite person in the world,” you say in your high pitched puppy voice while you eagerly rub his belly. His tail is slapping against the floor and you can hear Auston laughing and saying something, but you ignore it focusing your attention on the fourteen month old puppy that has captured your heart.

[everybodyscupoftea]

expanding the drunkenness scale

frat jj x reader

words: 2690

warnings: the norms (alcohol, cursing)

synopsis: you finally get to see past six drink jj

a/n: requested by an anon; once again i must warn to drink responsibly!!! also i just passed 100 followers, thank you all so much for the support, i only started this up a few weeks ago, so this is crazy to me!

So, you’ve seen the ramifications of six drink JJ, barely standing, barely speaking coherently. Nothing could’ve prepared you for more than six drink JJ. It was almost like he caught a second wind, and it kind of felt like chasing a child around, he was so unpredictable.

One afternoon, after you got off of work, you saw you had about 15 texts from JJ about attending a baseball game. It had already started, but you confirmed with him that he was still there and started to drive toward the field.

You showed your student ID to get in and then walked to the bottom of the reserved student section to look for JJ and whatever friends he was there with. Before you could find him, you heard a loud, “Baby!” and looked up to see him all the way across the section, standing and waving at you. People looked between the two of you, amused, and you blushed at the sudden attention, quickly making your way to him.

“You’re drunk already?” you asked incredulously as he wrapped you up in a hug, hand reaching down to your ass.

“We pre-gamed!” he told you excitedly as you tried to get him to sit down.

He leaned into you, arm wrapped loosely around your shoulder and you sighed, “Yes, I see that. Do you even know the score, bud?”

JJ shrugged, eyes not leaving your face, “It’s tied.”

You looked around him at the scoreboard to see your school winning 5-2. Snorting out a laugh, you patted his shoulder, “Not quite, but good try.”

JJ waved your words off before brightening up, “Oh hey, we’re having a party tonight, you should come.”

“I know you are, you told me last week.”

“Oh,” he looked confused as he took a swig of a beer you didn’t even realize he had before continuing, “well are you coming?”

“Wouldn’t miss it, J.”

“Good, I need my forever date with me,” he tapped your nose, almost missing and nailing you eye instead.

From behind you, one of the guys with JJ that you didn’t recognized made a whipping noise at JJ’s response and JJ flipped him off, not looking away from you.

“You’re being cheesy today,” you told him, slight blush on your cheeks.

“Only for you.”

He finished his beer, and you sighed internally as he started to slump into you, “Did you drive?”

JJ lifted his head from your neck and shook his head, mumbling something incoherently.

“What?”

“Bryce drove,” he told you, slurring a little.

“Right, well I drove, you wanna leave and go take a nap?”

He perked up at the word nap and nodded enthusiastically. JJ’s knees buckled when he stood and you tucked yourself under his arm to keep him upright.

“Whoops,” he slurred out, giggling while you struggled to get him to your car.

“Fucking frat boys,” you mumbled under your breath as he tripped again, almost dragging both of you to the ground. After his third stumble in two minutes, you snapped, “Pick your feet up.”

“I’m frat man, baby, not boy.”

“Frat child,” you corrected as you helped him into the passenger seat of your car. You queued up a bunch of songs he likes as you drove to the frat house because if he fell asleep in the car you definitely wouldn’t be able to get him inside. It worked, and you had to repeat the half carry, half drag process all the way to his room to deposit him on his bed.

You started to leave his room and he whined, “Where are you going?”

“I have to go get dressed and pick us up some alcohol before the party in like four hours.”

“Nooo, sleep with me, you have clothes here.”

“I have workout clothes here,” you corrected.

“They look hot,” he shrugged, holding his hands out as if to pull you back.

A nap did sound really enticing. You were tired from your early morning shift, so you gave in, “Fine, but you can’t chirp me for my outfit later.”

JJ held his pinky out to you, “Promise.”

You linked pinkies and laid down next to him. He held his arm out and you put your head on his bicep. JJ curled his arm around your shoulders and both of you fell asleep quickly.

Not setting an alarm was a mistake because you were woken up by music signaling that the party had started already. You checked your phone to see a text from JJ that he had gone with Pope to buy you guys some alcohol and wanted to let you sleep since you seemed so tired.

You sighed and walked over to his closet to find something decent to wear. There was at least one pair of blue jean shorts which made you feel a bit better, and you brushed your teeth before walking downstairs to find your boyfriend and join the party.

JJ was in the kitchen mixing himself a drink when you found him, and he jumped when you wrapped your arms around his waist from behind. He quickly realized it was you and smiled, handing you the cup, “For you, milady.”

“Is it actually for me?”

“It is now.”

You took a sip, not knowing what to expect, and almost gagged when you tasted mostly vodka. He laughed at your betrayed face and held out the pitcher of lemonade to add some to your cup.

“Fuck, JJ, how drunk are you to already be drinking shit this strong?”

He furrowed his eyebrows while trying to come up with an answer, and shrugged, holding up three fingers, “I’ve had two drinks.”

You reached over to push one of his fingers back down, “There you go, two.”

“You’re so smart, babe,” he told you before yelling out, “I’m dating a genius!”

“Jesus, J,” you hissed, blushing as people in the kitchen stared at the two of you.

“The people need to know how elite you are.”

“They most definitely do not.”

JJ grinned mischievously before yelling out, “This girl is the greatest person in the world and I love her and no one can-“

You slapped a hand over his mouth, abruptly cutting him off and he licked your palm. With a grimace, you pinched his arm with your other hand, “That’s gross, J. Can I trust you to stop, now?”

He gently pushed your hand away before answering, “Probably not.”

And with that, JJ turned away to fix himself a drink. He grabbed your hand and pulled you into the living room where the beer pong tables were set up. There was an open end at the pairs table, so you and JJ took it to play against some two of the other guys who lived in the house.

“Hold my jacket, sweetheart, I don’t know how big this is gonna get,” he told you, stripping off his hoodie.

“I regret making you watch Footloose with me. I know that’s what you were going for there, but I hated it,” you told him seriously, and he just laughed loudly in response.

To say you were carrying the team was an understatement. JJ thought it would be fun to try out an arsenal of trick shots he’d been apparently hiding. The best one was when he attempted a softball pitch and pegged one of the other guys in the forehead. It landed in the cup and JJ cheered, throwing his arms around you in his excitement.

The other guys tried to argue that it didn’t count, but you glared at them until they glumly moved the cup to the side and re-racked the four remaining cups upon your request. They landed one of their shots and you knocked out three of the four, missing the last one.

“Dude,” JJ told them when he lined up to take his after they missed both of theirs, “we kicked your asses.”

“No thanks to you,” you threw in as JJ way overshot in his drunken state.

He grinned dopily at you and threw the last one, not even looking. Of course, it went in, and he leaned down to kiss you firmly.

They missed both of their redemption shots and you dragged JJ away before they could challenge you to a rematch. He finished his drink and you wordlessly handed him yours, still tasting too strongly of vodka for your liking.

JJ chugged the rest of it before setting your empty cups down. He dragged you to the backyard where the music was blasting and a crowd of drunk college students was dancing.

“Care to dance?” he asked, offering a hand.

You figured it was probably the best way to keep an eye on him, so you reluctantly followed him out into the crowd. What JJ meant by dance was holding your hands and jumping around, forcing you to jump with him, until he felt sick. He mumbled something about his tummy and bathroom and you let him go immediately, gently shoving him in the direction of the house.

JJ stumbled inside and you turned around to see Pope dancing nearby. You slid over to him and the two of you danced together for a few songs before you realized how long JJ had been gone and decided you should probably go check on him.

Pope slung an arm over your shoulder and walked with you inside, toward the bathroom. What you saw when you got there almost gave you an aneurism. JJ was sitting on the ground and John B was poised over him, electric razor in hand, clearly about to buzz JJ’s hair.

“Oh fuck,” Pope managed to get out between laughs at your facial expression. He hunched over, arms wrapped around his stomach, as JJ tried to scramble up.

“Maybank, I know you are not about to get your head shaved,” you told him, deadly serious voice, “I know I’m seeing this wrong.”

“No, babe, think about it. My head will feel so nice in the summer when it’s hot. It’s a win-win,” he explained earnestly.

You crossed your arms, “What’s the second win?”

He had no answer for that and instead tried to hug you. John B was slowly trying to get by you two without catching your attention and you poked his chest, “You know better, JB.”

John B shrugged, “To be fair, it was JJ’s idea.”

“When do we ever listen to drunk JJ?” you retorted, ignoring JJ’s defensive “hey!” in the background.

Pressing a kiss to your cheek, John B fully left the bathroom, dragging Pope with him. You looked at JJ and he grinned down at you, “So you’re saying I wouldn’t look good with no hair?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying. You are wild past six drinks, bud.”

It didn’t even seem that your words registered with him because immediately after you stopped talking, he snapped his fingers, “Hey, we should go get Whataburger.”

The thought of Whataburger fries was really tempting, so you told JJ, “Stay here, I need to go get my keys and wallet and I’ll drive.”

JJ nodded, seriously, and you jogged off, not actually trusting him to stay in place. You were pretty quick, but by the time you got back to the bathroom, JJ was gone. With a sigh, you tucked your wallet in your back pocket and resigned yourself to having to look for your boyfriend again.

Just like the first time you walked downstairs, he was in the kitchen fixing himself a drink. This time he saw you and loped over to you, drink spilling a little bit. He threw his hands up, even more sloshing out, and cheered, “Honey butter chicken biscuit time!”

“Yes it is, let’s go.”

When you cranked your car up, you were a little surprised to see it was 3 a.m. and JJ immediately plugged his phone up, pulling up a One Direction playlist which he shamelessly listened to pretty regularly.

He rolled his window down and leaned out as you drove down the street, screaming the lyrics to Drag Me Down. You knew he liked feeling the wind in his hair, so you sped a little bit, just for him. When you pulled into the Whataburger drive-thru, he got all the way back in and smiled over at you and said, “Baby, I feel so alive,” just as the song Alive started playing.

You gave him a blank look and ordered his food and a medium fry for yourself. JJ tore into the food almost immediately as you pulled back into the street to drive to the house. He seemed uninterested in joining the party again as he sat in the passenger seat, alternating between bites of the biscuit and sips of his probably mostly vodka drink.

After you parked, JJ stayed sitting as he slowly finished his food and drained the rest of his drink. You nudged him a few times with your elbow to get his attention, “You wanna go upstairs or you wanna rejoin the party.”

He put some serious thought into it before deciding, “Bed time.”

You grabbed your booksack out of the backseat and the two of you went straight upstairs to the bathroom. Locking the door, you made him brush his teeth and get ready for bed. He started to strip out of his clothes and you quickly batted his hands away from where he was tugging his shirt, “Stop it, babe, wait until we get back to your room.”

JJ winked, “Why wait? The door is locked.”

“We’re going to bed, not having sex,” you told him bluntly and swung the door open.

He sighed, grabbing your hand, and followed you down the hall to his room. Dramatically flopping onto the bed, JJ held his arms out to you, “Let’s sleep, I guess, since you don’t love me anymore.”

You rolled your eyes, “I still love you, but you can’t speak without slurring and I’m pretty sure you won’t even remember this conversation in the morning.”

“Probably not,” he admitted, burying his face into your chest. It only took about 45 seconds until he was snoring and you pressed a kiss to the top of his head fondly.

The next morning, you woke up around 10 and decided to sit at the desk he had shoved in the corner to work on a paper for your Child Psychology class. After about 45 minutes, you went downstairs to make some coffee for yourself and the rest of the house, and brought a steaming mug back upstairs to drink while finishing the last two pages of your paper.

You’d just finished editing and submitting it when JJ finally woke up around 1 p.m. He shuffled around a few times, pressing his face into a pillow with a groan.

Laughing softly, you walked over to the bed and sat down next to his head, running your hand through his hair a few times. He pushed his head into it with a slight whine, “My head hurts.”

“I bet it does, sweetheart,” you soothed.

He pouted up at you and you grabbed the medicine and water bottle you’d set up on his bedside table. Clumsily kissing your cheek, he took the medicine and slowly sipped at the water. After clearing his throat a few times, he broke the silence, “How much did I drink yesterday?”

“Well from what I know, you started pre-gaming at 9 a.m. so I imagine your blood is mostly alcohol today.”

“Brain is a little fuzzy,” he admitted.

“You want some coffee?” you asked, starting to stand.

He whined again and wrapped his arms around your waist before you could leave, “Stay.”

Sitting back down, you started stroking his hair again, “You sure, J? I can get you some food while I’m down there.”

“Later,” he mumbled, moving his head to your lap. After about five minutes of you playing with his hair, he was out like a light again, face smushed into the lower part of your stomach, drooling a little bit. You moved to lean back against the headboard and settled in, pulling up Netflix on your phone. Food could wait.

***

tagging: @girlsru1eboysdroo1​ @katiaw2​

if anyone else is interested in being tagged in frat jj stuff, let me know!

[satoruvt]

the color of you - white (5)

ik keigo’s like a hero n he has his hero costume on all the time but for this chapter (for no particular reason) imagine him in light jeans and a black t-shirt ok thank u i hope thinking of that makes u as happy as it does me

pairing → keigo takami x bakery owner!reader

word count → 2368

summary → you’re not really dating, so you can’t really be in love with him... right?

song inspo → converse high by bts, somebody loves you by jeremy zucker, and some of can’t we just leave this monster alive? by tomorrow x together

this chapter → compromising positions, a flour war, a Moment, y/n realizes some things and keigo’s a little shit

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five

The sun has never been your friend in the mornings, and you’re reminded of that fact every single time you wake up. For someone who doesn’t like getting blinded first thing in the morning, you sure were bold to put your bed right next to the window, knowing full well the first few hours of sunlight shone directly onto your pillows.

Your brain wakes up before your body does, a few lingering thoughts from your dream swimming in your head in fragmented colors and sentences, and once you’re more coherent you open your eyes, flutter at the sunlight - wait, this isn’t your bed.

There’s sun nearby, sure, but the window’s too distant. Your vision’s a little blurry from sleep but you think you know your colors pretty well and these sheets do not match the ones you picked out from Target, like, two years ago. And then you remember, oh, awards ceremony. Hotel. Suite. Okay.

You move to stretch, manage to get your arms above your head, but even when you move the arm around your waist stays put. For a second you think holy shit, I’m paralyzed, but then you realize that you don’t have three arms. And then you realize that the arm around your waist belongs to Keigo, who’s still in your bed.

For the first time this morning your brain catches up on time with the sudden thought of “he’s not your actual boyfriend, what is this” but when you turn your head to wake up him with a flick on his forehead you stop. 

You’re a fan of him. It’s not hard for you to admit - it’s just an add-on, at this point, because Keigo is definitely more of a friend than an idol to you. You’re a fan, no less, you’ve dabbled in buying cute keychains and pens stylized with colors that he wore often. That’s why, you reason with yourself, you’re suddenly very aware of how gorgeous he is.

The sunlight isn’t on either of you, but it casts a gentle, warm glow into the hotel room through the break in the curtains and it dresses Keigo beautifully, subtly. Makes his skin look sunkissed and golden. His hair’s a mess, wild and sticking in every direction, but somehow it’s fitting for him. You can’t stop your eyes from tracing over his face, taking in his proportions and then dropping to his lips, and you keep your eyes trained on him as you turn so you’re on your side, facing him. You think about it for a moment, stopping your already-raising hand, then tell yourself that in the times he’s fallen asleep while you two were hanging out, he’s never woken up, so he won’t now. 

You get one push of your fingers through his hair - as soft as you can - and when you refocus on Keigo’s face he is definitely awake. You freeze, absolutely mortified, while he only raises an eyebrow at you. He doesn’t move his arm from around your waist.

“Morning, sunshine,” and oh God, that’s what his morning voice sounds like? “Is this your way of telling me you’re actually into me?”

Heat flushes to your cheeks and you take your hand away, laughing nervously and way too loud for the morning. You try to think of anything to say that’s better than “sorry, I couldn’t help myself, you just looked so good” but nothing comes to mind and you stay looking down as best you can.

“Couldn’t help yourself, huh?” Keigo says, and you realize you said it out loud, God fucking - “Hmm, I don’t know. Sounds like you’re harboring secret feelings for me, sweetheart.”

You fight a losing battle against a smile and roll your eyes playfully, shoving Keigo away from you as he barks out a laugh. “Get out of my room, you’re not allowed in here anymore.”

Keigo doesn’t give his usual protests outside of a smothered “nooo” into the pillows after you get out of bed - how cute, you think to yourself - and gather your toiletries and clothes so you can shower. You yell an “out!” for good measure before you shut the bathroom door, waiting for a moment until you hear the door to his room shut.

Your shower is quick, making use of the high-end hotel body wash, and you half expect Keigo to still be in the bed when you walk out of the bathroom. You dry your hair with a towel and your phone buzzes on the nightstand. You unlock it to see a text.

keigo baby 🐦

Can i come back yet i miss you

You snort at his text, send back a “get in here, bird boy” but then realize it’s almost nine thirty and you need to get to the bakery. Keigo walks in and you rush to find your usual sneakers. When you finally look at him, sitting on the edge of the bed and tying your shoes, he’s got an eyebrow raised.

“In a rush?” He asks, and you send him a playful glare, but you’re already too late to think about banter.

“Yeah, I gotta get to the bakery,” you tell him, finalizing the knot on your shoe. You only brought a small bag with your things, and it doesn’t take long for you to gather them up. You take a quick glance around the room to make sure nothing’s forgotten, finding nothing that looks like it’s yours.

(Your eyes land on your dress from the night before, and you aim a look at Keigo that says “what should I do with that” and he tells you he’ll take care of it.)

“Okay,” you breathe, looking at Keigo. You feel the urge to kiss him on the cheek as a goodbye. “I’ll see you later?”

“I’ve got nothing to do until, like, noon. Do you mind if I see you to the bakery?”

You murmur an “of course not” with a smile and the two of you are off.

It’s a short trip - you take the subway to a station that’s only a few blocks from the bakery and walk the rest of the way. At one point Keigo slips his hand into yours, intertwines your fingers, and despite this now being a whole two-month (or something) endeavor it makes you choke just a little bit at how casual he is about it.

“Text me if you need anything,” you tell Keigo when the two of you reach the bakery, and he raises his eyebrows at you.

“Yes, I’ll be sure to call my fake baker girlfriend when I’m in a pinch with a villain,” he says, and you pout at him, pushing on his shoulder. He laughs, kisses you, murmurs “I’ll see you later” against your lips before leaving with a wink and a gust into the sky.

You open the door to the bakery and it’s only when you finally get to working fifteen minutes later that you’re sure you hadn’t seen any paparazzi around.

-

Keigo comes back about ten minutes after closing, when you’re in the dining area and setting chairs on top of tables. You’d given the employees working today the go-ahead to leave, since the last hour of business consisted of a couple coming in to ask for directions. The bell above the door rings and you turn your head, meeting Keigo’s eyes.

“Fancy seeing you here,” you say, mock surprise in your voice as you fold your arms over your chest and walk closer to him. “What can I do for you?”

“Ah, I’ve been craving your signature donuts for a while now,” Keigo replies, sending you a playful grin. “Think you could whip some up for me? I’ll even pay extra.”

“Sorry, hero, but we’re already closed.”

Keigo gapes at you and you snort before walking behind the counter to take the food out of the display case. “Come on, not even for your favorite hero? Your idol? Your boyfriend?”

You pretend to think about it for a minute, tapping your finger against your chin. “Hmm, I suppose I could make a quick batch…” you stare directly at him, point at him assertively. “But you’re helping.”

Keigo seems less than excited to do so, shoulders deflating at your words, but he walks behind the counter and into the kitchen after you without a complaint. In the back of your mind, you know you shouldn’t be wasting ingredients like this, but at the same time business has been really booming - you can afford to buy more. 

It’s fun, baking with Keigo. Even if he’s not keen on working and you definitely don’t trust him to measure liquids, he seems… eager to please. You tell him to mix and he does, to crack an egg and he does. The entire time he’s making jokes (some of them… really poor, painful dad jokes) and there’s a warmth in your heart.

Keigo pours out flour into a sifter over the large mixing bowl you have set up, but instead of batting the sifter against his hand like a normal person, he holds it like a pan and he’s sauteing something. You frown, taking the sifter from his hand (as gently as you can without spilling). “You’re doing it wrong,” you say.

“What, there’s a right way to…” Keigo pauses, and you raise an eyebrow.

“Sift?”

“Yeah, that - there’s a right way to sift something? Does it really matter?”

“...no,” you start, then furrow your brows. “But it’ll make a mess.”

“It doesn’t matter, you’re gonna have to clean up when we’re done anyways.”

An idea crosses your mind and you know, whole-heartedly, that it is probably your worst idea of the day for multiple reasons. But the knowledge of its consequences still doesn’t stop you from reaching into the sifter, grabbing a little less than a handful of flour, and spritzing it on Keigo’s chest.

“You’re just gonna take a shower when you get home, right?” You say, innocent as can be. You take another not-handful and rub it on his shirt. “A mess doesn’t matter.”

You look up at Keigo and his gaze says something like “this shirt was ten thousand yen” before he grabs his own handful of flour - not from the bowl or the sifter, but rather from the twenty-pound bag you opened specifically for him. He throws it at you and it lands in a puff in your hair, dusting you in white.

An unspoken agreement is passed between the two of you when you meet his gaze again - this is war.

In three seconds flat both of you are grabbing anything you can - flour, sugar, anything - and using them as weapons, throwing them in the general direction of the other. It’s gonna be a pain getting it out of your clothes, but you find you don’t really care. Milk is thrown from a measuring cup over your shoulder, lands on the floor with a splash mixed with your alarmed yelp. A single egg yolk hits Keigo in the chest, breaking like a water balloon on impact. Music you barely remember starting before the two of you got to baking plays like a soundtrack in a movie.

The Baking War of 2020 is short, though, and soon enough you both are panting and laughing as you stand in the kitchen covered in baking supplies. “Truce?” you pitch, wiping what you think is baking powder off of your eyelashes.

“Hold on,” Keigo says. He grabs an egg from the open carton on the counter, steps so the two of you are almost chest-to-chest. Your smile fades because oh, he’s really close, what is he doing?

He cracks the egg over your head. That’s what he’s doing.

You close your eyes, sigh, try to forget about your momentary panic as you feel the egg coat your hair. The yolk breaks somewhere between the top of your head and your eyebrow and you close one eye in hopes it won’t drip into it. “Truce,” Keigo grins.

“I hope you know that you helped waste my ingredients and you didn’t even get your donuts,” you mumble, pouting up at him. Keigo’s grin grows fond as he shrugs, uses his thumb to rub most of the yolk off of your forehead. You find yourself wishing that someone with a camera was around so you have an excuse to kiss him. 

“I’m rich, I can buy you more,” he says, and you really cannot stop looking at his lips.

It’s like last night - a part of you wants to shrug your heart pounding off as Keigo just looking good in all black and expensive rings, because anyone could tell he was easily the most beautiful person at the ceremony, but your heart is pounding just as hard - if not harder - right now and he’s wearing jeans and a t-shirt. It startles you, makes nervous butterflies erupt in your chest and stomach and blood rush to your cheeks, because you’re pretty sure this is -

Keigo’s phone rings and it makes both of you jump; you end up a solid three feet away from where you were before. It’s really hot in here, is it hot? It’s definitely hot. You need to turn off the heater.

“Shit,” Keigo curses to himself, and when you look at him he’s doing his best to brush off flour and sugar from his clothes with a rag. “There’s a villain downtown. I gotta go.”

You nod immediately, understanding, but you don’t trust your voice to speak that much. You swallow - gulp, really - and hope he doesn’t notice how jumpy you are. “Be safe,” you say, and cringe at how small your voice sounds.

“I’ll text you later,” is all Keigo tells you before he’s leaving through the back door of the bakery. You hear his wings as he takes off.

You don’t move for a moment, instead choosing to slump against the counter. Usually when you started liking someone, it was gradual, it wasn’t surprising or - or like this, you knew and it was fine, regardless of outcome. This didn’t happen to you. 

You sigh, close your eyes and try not to freak out too much about the very sudden and very scary realization that you like Keigo.

[robinrunsfiction]

A Long Way Back - Part 1 of 2

Pairing: Gerard Way x Female Reader

Rating: General

Requested By: Anon

Word Count: ~7,900 total, ~3400 in part 1

Author’s Note: This request asked for current Gerard with a singer who is younger and to be honest, I started this request immediately when I got it, but I’ve been picking it up and putting it down on and off since then. I was inspired by His Smile Will Keep You Safe by @xxfanfiction-emo-trinityxx and I Know I’ll Lose by @sunsetinmyvein ​and while this story is nowhere near as long as their stories, I hope that you guys enjoy it regardless. I’ve also thrown together a playlist if you’re interested as well

“We are Garden of Woe and don’t you ever forget it! Thank you Milwaukee!” (YN) shouted as the band hit their final notes and the lights went out. The crowd was cheering and (YN) felt that addicting mix of adrenaline and exhaustion that she always felt after an amazing show.

“That show was sick!” Liam the guitarist raved and (YN) nodded enthusiastically as she took a swig from her water bottle on the way backstage.

“Hey guys, great show as usual,” their manager Clark grinned when they walked in the dressing room. “Can I get your attention for a second?”

(YN) looked at her bandmates, a look of confusion shared amongst them. “What’s going on?”

“I didn’t wanna tell you guys before the show and have yall be in your heads, but” he paused. “You’ve been asked to open for My Chemical Romance on their US reunion tour.”

(YN) thought she was about to either faint, puke, or die on the spot. “Clark don’t fuck with us.”

“I’m not fucking with you.”

“Oh my god, this is, oh my god,” Jake the drummer muttered, a far away look in his eyes as Rebecca the bass player just stood there with a shocked look on her face.

(YN) sunk down on the couch, legs unable to support her anymore. “I had just hoped to get tickets to one of those shows,” she said with an astonished laugh, holding her head in her hands.

“Well if you accept, you’re gonna be going to every show, getting paid to be there, and getting more exposure than you ever could dream of,” Clark replied.

“I think I speak for everyone when I say hell yes!” Liam exclaimed, the rest of the band agreeing instantly.

“Then it’s settled, I’ll get in touch with their management tomorrow morning and you better get ready because you’re about to go on a wild ride.”

~

To (YN) it felt like an instant and an eternity at the same time before Garden of Woe departed for the first stop of the MCR reunion tour. A lot of buzz had been building around their band since it was announced that they, along with Taking Back Sunday for the first half of the tour and Crystal Lake Cemetery for the second half, would be opening the shows.

“Are you so stoked Becs? Are you? Are you?!” Liam shouted, shaking Rebecca’s shoulders excitedly as their bus rolled down the highway.

“If you keep doing that I’m going to barf on you,” Rebecca snapped back. 

Everyone’s nerves had been on edge since Clark had told them the news and arguments had been erupting about things like the setlist, or what their merch would look like, and the tension only seemed to grow the closer they got to the start of the tour. Rebecca wouldn't even return (YN)'s calls for a week over a debate about what they should be wearing on stage. 

“Oh my god Liam, I say this with all the love in the world, but please shut the fuck up,” (YN) muttered.

Liam, with his endless energy, bounced across the tour bus to where (YN) was sitting and climbed onto her lap. “You! This is literally what you’ve been talking about since you were 16 years old! This is why we formed Garden of Woe, why we’ve been struggling and starving for a decade!”

“I know, but you’re never gonna see the stage if you keep bugging everyone like this,” (YN) retorted to her friend in her lap.

“What are you gonna say when you finally meet them?”

“Will we even meet them?” (YN) asked, trying to sound aloof. She had been trying not to think about actually meeting the band that she had been obsessed with and saved her life when she was a depressed teenager back in 2004. When she and Liam founded Garden of Woe, she modeled her stage presence on Gerard’s after watching hours of live performance videos. When My Chem announced they were getting back together back on Halloween 2019, (YN) cried tears of joy for hours and they did an extra encore of just MCR covers at their show that night.

“We’re gonna be on the road with them for two months, of course we are,” Jake replied.

(YN) groaned. “I can’t deal with this right now,” she grumbled, pushing Liam off her before climbing into her bunk.

A while later Clark was calling her name to come out as they had arrived at the first venue. “Alright, here is the itinerary: you guys have soundcheck at 5:30, doors are at 6:30, you’re on at 7:30. After your set, you should get to the main merch booth to sign things for the fans, but you can watch Taking Back Sunday and My Chem if you’d prefer. Then two hours after My Chem finishes, we load back in and it’s on to the next stop.”

(YN) glanced at her phone, it was just before 2 PM, which meant they had hours before their soundcheck. Hours to build up more nervous energy, to possibly run into My Chem or Taking Back Sunday, another band she’d looked up to for just as long.

The bus rolled to a stop and they grabbed the things they’d need for the show that night and headed inside. There were other big black busses already parked outside and roadies moving things around.

“This is real, this is really real. This is the biggest thing we’ve ever done and we’re really here,” Rebecca said, totally astonished as (YN) linked arms with her. 

“I’m really trying not to think about it,” (YN) replied. Even from the back of the stadium they could hear the crowd already waiting out front. When they got to the door, they flashed their badges and were escorted to their dressing room.

“Do we just wait here? Can we go walk around? I wanna go check everything out,” Liam babbled excitedly.

“How much coffee did you drink today, dude?” (YN) asked, trying to keep the nerves out of her voice.

“None. Come on, let’s get out there and meet our tourmates! Who is with me? (YN), Jake, Becs?”

Rebecca rolled her eyes. “I’m gonna try to calm down and center myself and not piss off the people who are employing us.”

“I’ll go,” Jake replied.

“Yea me too, get it over with,” (YN) mumbled. She’d met so many people touring and opening for bands she looked up to that it shouldn’t make her nervous, but Gerard, Mikey, Ray and Frank were legendary. The three bandmates started to wander the halls, peeking in doors until they heard people talking. 

“Is this happening? Are we about to meet them?” (YN) looked at Liam, her heart hammering.

“Come on,” he said, grabbing her elbow and leading the way. “‘Scuse me, sorry to interrupt, but we wanted to introduce ourselves. We are Garden of Woe.”

“Hey, nice to finally meet you guys, I’m Gerard,” Gerard said, getting up to shake their hands. Jake and Liam introduced themselves like normal humans, but (YN) was screaming internally.

“I’m (YN),” she squeaked, and Gerard gave her an amused smile and she was certain her brain melted. Then all the sudden she was introducing herself to Mikey, Frank, and Ray as well and it was as if she had transcended to another plane of existence. She listened as they easily made conversation with Jake and Liam, but she couldn’t put together a coherent thought to join in.

“Are you ok?” she heard someone asking. Shaking her head to pull herself out of her thoughts, she realized it was Gerard.

“Yea, yea, thanks, just kinda overwhelmed by everything that’s going on,” she admitted.

Gerard nodded. “Yea, being back in the tour life has been kinda weird. Overwhelming, like you said.”

“For sure. And I don’t wanna seem like, I dunno, a crazed fan, but I have to tell you, I’ve been listening to you guys since I was 16 when Three Cheers came out. It got me through so much and your performance style inspired me so much and how I perform and yea. Sorry to ramble, I just had to get that off my chest, I won’t bug you about it again,” (YN) said with another shake of her head as she put her hands over her face. She didn’t know why, but tears were stinging at her eyes. “So sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he replied and he reached out and rubbed her arm. “We saw you guys performing and that’s why we asked you to come out with us. You have a lot of talent.”

“Well thank you, this is literally a dream come true,” (YN) blushed. Receiving a compliment like that from Gerard Way himself was mind blowing.

“My Chem, you’re up for soundcheck,” someone with a headset called from the doorway.

“We’ll see you around,” Gerard waved as they made their way out the door. After the band was gone (YN), Jake, and Liam stood alone in the dressing room silently for a moment.

“Holy fucking hell we just met My Chemical Romance!” Liam shrieked.

“I know!” (YN) shouted in reply, throwing her arms around her friends in a celebratory hug.

~

"(YN). Earth to (YN)," Liam said, pulling her from her thoughts. "You ready?"

"No, not at all," she replied and Liam could see the fear in her face. It had been a long time since he had seen her that nervous before a performance. 

"You got this," he said to (YN). "We all got this, come on!"

Just then the stage lights dimmed and the crowd roared like she'd never heard before. The other three took their places on stage. "Fuck it," she muttered to herself and ran out on stage.

45 minutes later Garden of Woe was taking their bow and hurrying off stage so the roadies could switch out their equipment for Taking Back Sunday’s. The four bandmates were wrapping each other in sweaty hugs and jumping up and down, as the set had gone better than they ever could have hoped. After cleaning themselves up a bit, they went to the merch booth and signed autographs and took photos for a while, but the line cleared out again once Taking Back Sunday went on. After they finished, there wasn't much time before MCR were going to take the stage, so (YN) hurried backstage and found a crate to sit on and watch while the greatest band of their generation took the stage.

The show was absolutely awe inspiring; to watch the way Ray shredded on his guitar, the way Frank and Mikey moved around the stage, but most of all watching Gerard. He was a natural on stage, even after all this time away from it. While she had watched enough interviews on youtube to know that he was soft spoken, the way he turned that off and started to just command the stage and the crowd was incredible. What she couldn’t believe was that no one else was with her watching the show. Did they not realize what an opportunity they were missing she wondered.

"Enjoying the show?" Gerard asked when they came off stage before the encore.

"So much! You're kicking so much ass out there!" She beamed and the guys all laughed in appreciation.

Once the show was over and everyone was cleaned up, the bands all came together to celebrate a little before it was time to reboard the busses. The drinks were flowing for everyone that partook as people talked happily, but (YN) found herself without a place to sit until she decided to crash on Liam's lap.

Ray smiled as he walked over to them. “Hey, how’d the first show go?”

“Amazing!” Liam grinned.

“So amazing, but you guys, holy shit!” (YN) gushed. “I suppose when you’ve played together for so long you don’t just lose that, even after a break.”

"That’s true,” Ray nodded. “How long have you been a band?”

“About ten years,” (YN) replied. “We talked about it in high school, but neither of us could play an instrument, and life was so hard back then. We couldn’t get our shit together until after he graduated from college. It's only really been in the last few years we've been able to find some success with it.”

“So are you two together?" Ray asked, looking between the pair.

"Oh nooo," (YN) laughed. "Liam's practically my brother."

"And I'm gay," Liam interjected.

"And there's that," (YN) nodded.

“Well you guys have a real dynamic that works,” Ray shrugged. The way he treated them as if they were equals to everyone else on the tour was exactly the confidence boost (YN) needed as the tour got started.

~

The next few days of the tour were very much the same. Rolling into town, hurry up and wait, getting to know the guys in the other bands, and then finally getting on stage. After signing for fans, (YN) would rush backstage to watch MCR perform, and after that everyone would gather again until it was time to load back into the busses to the next town.

Each day was a little less nerve-wracking than the last and (YN) finally felt like she was coming out of her shell. She’d hoped that Rebecca would be her right-hand woman, since there were so few other women out on the tour, but Rebecca had been heading straight to the busses after the shows, instead of hanging out with everyone else.

“Do you have any idea what’s up with Becs?” (YN) asked the other two members of the band after their soundcheck.

“Nope,” Jake replied quickly before heading back behind his kit again.

“Just go talk to her,” Liam suggested.

(YN) grumbled before nodding and heading back to the dressing room. “Hey Becs!” (YN) said as chipperly as she could muster. “Are you gonna hang with us after the show tonight? I miss hanging out with you, and the guys are all super fun to talk to.”

“I dunno, maybe,” she replied, but (YN) couldn’t get a read on her mood.

“What are you gonna wear tonight? I was thinking my Mikey Fuckin Way shirt that I cropped,” (YN) said turning to their wardrobe rack.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” Rebecca said before quickly turning and almost running out of the room. Moments later Liam came in.

“What the hell was that about?”

“I have no idea dude, I tried though, I really did.”

Despite the weirdness between Rebecca and the rest of the band, the show went well. (YN) again ducked out early from their signing to catch the MCR show from her favorite spot at the side of the stage. She couldn’t help but wonder if she was imagining things, but it seemed like whenever Gerard looked her way, he’d always smile just at her.

“Still enjoying the show?” Gerard asked when he came off stage before their encore.

“I’ve got years of not seeing you guys live to catch up on, I’m never gonna get sick of it,” she laughed.

Gerard nodded. “I caught your show tonight, you guys are really killin it.”

(YN) could have sworn her soul left her body for a moment. “R-really?”

“Yea, I really-”

“Gee, we’re back on,” Ray said tapping him on the shoulder.

(YN) waved him off as he went back on stage and the crowd roared again. She tried to keep from screaming herself, but for an entirely different reason.

At the end of the show, everyone convened as usual for the post-show celebration. (YN) was glad to find that Rebecca had joined the group, even if she was mostly just talking to Jake. She had meant to talk to her, but got pulled into a conversation with Adam instead.

“Ok, but can you teach me to swing the mic like you do and not kill someone?” (YN) asked with a laugh. 

“Sure thing, how ‘bout after your sound check tomorrow?” Adam offered.

“Perfect, can’t wait!” (YN) grinned, but in the corner Rebecca was rolling her eyes.

From the other side of the room Mikey was trying to talk to Gerard, but he was noticeably distracted. Following his brother’s line of sight, realized Gerard was watching (YN)’s animated conversation with Adam. He bumped his shoulder into Gerard’s. 

“You really are into (YN) aren’t you?” Mikey asked with a knowing smile and Gerard just shrugged dejectedly. “Why don’t you just ask her out or something?”

“I can’t,” Gerard replied.

“Why not?”

“Because.”

“Because why? Why? What good reason do you have?” Mikey argued.

“Because I’m older than her, because I don’t want her to feel obligated to spend time with me just because we’re on this tour together. Because I’m not… I’m not the Gerard Way I used to be.”

"What the fuck does that mean?" Mikey asked sternly.

"I know I'm not a sexy rock star anymore, I'm a divorced dad with grey in his hair and," he sighed. "You know what I mean."

"Gee, you know you're in a better place now in so many ways than you were before. Stop talking yourself out of it.”

Gerard just grumbled in response. He knew his brother was right, he was better off now than he was ten years ago, worlds better than he was even longer ago than that. But he couldn’t help but worry that (YN) wouldn’t be interested in him. At least not the current version of him. 

But that didn’t change how he felt about her

~

The next stop on the tour was Riot Fest, but Garden of Woe would not actually be opening for My Chem and Taking Back Sunday. They had been relegated to one of the smaller side stages earlier in the day. (YN) and Liam were hanging out on the curb outside their bus in the warm, mid September Chicago air when Frank and Gerard came by.

“Hey, when are you guys on today?” Frank asked.

“At 4:30, why?” Liam answered

Frank climbed in between the two and pulled out his phone. “Gerard is always talking about how awesome your show is, so I was gonna promote you guys.”

(YN) looked up at Gerard who smiled shyly. “Well Gerard, why don’t you get in on this too then,” she smiled.

“Sure,” he nodded and sat down next to her as Liam took Frank’s phone and held it out so he could get everyone in the shot.

“Hey guys, we’re at Riot Fest, and before we play tonight, you gotta go check out our friends Garden of Woe," Frank said to the camera.

“4:30 on the Riot Stage,” (YN) added, flashing a peace sign before Liam finished recording. “Thanks guys, we really appreciate it. I don’t know how many people would be stopping by our set without the promo.”

“Well they should be, like I said before, you’re amazing,” Gerard replied as (YN) looked over at him with a soft smile. Over (YN)’s shoulder, Liam and Frank were exchanging knowing looks.

Hours later the band was waiting off stage, a few minutes before they were due to go on for their set.

“Holy shit, I didn’t expect the crowd this big,” Jake said after peaking out.

“I guess Frank’s post worked,” Liam shrugged.

“What post?” Rebecca asked.

“This one,” (YN) replied, pulling out her phone and pulling up the post she’d bookmarked. She let the video play, smiling happily at the four of them on the screen.

“Look at you all cozy with My Chem, what a surprise,” Rebecca deadpanned.

(YN) shot her a confused look and was about to open her mouth when Liam interjected.

“Ha, look at these comments,” Liam said, snatching the phone away. “People are totally shipping you and Gerard, (YN).”

“Shut up, no they aren’t,” she replied, but could feel her cheeks burning red.

“Yea they are, look!” He said pointing them out. (YN) scrolled through and couldn’t help but feel honored that people would think that she and Gerard made a cute couple. She could only imagine what it’d really be like.

“Don’t we have a show to play?” Rebecca asked snidely, snapping her from her thoughts.

“Becs is right, come on let’s get ready.” (YN) nodded, putting her phone away.

The energy of the crowd was great, and the fans that were up front were actually singing along, which brought a smile to (YN)’s face. An even bigger smile crossed her face when she glanced at the side of the stage and saw Gerard and Frank were there watching the show too.

Part 2

[writingwithadinosaur]

“Under the Knife” - Part 6

“Under the Knife” - Part 6

My Masterlist - Here

Story Masterlist - Here

My Tag List - Here

Hannibal Lecter x Reader, Will Graham x Sister!Reader

Word Count: 3,500-ish

Key: Chunks of text in italics are (Y/N)’s thoughts. Y/N = Your Name, H/C = Your Hair Color, E/C = Your Eye Color

Warnings: Cursing, Mentions of Death, Murder, and Violence

Summary: You are Will Graham’s sister who works with him at the FBI. When you get offered a job promotion, life starts to change. Some changes for the better; Some for the worst.

Author’s Note: This is my first Hannibal piece and I am proud of it. There aren’t too many stories for Hannibal, so I figured I would add to the collection.

This does take place in some happy medium where they are all alive and work together. Sort of a happier season 1 era.

This is beta-read by @theeactress​, but please let me know if there is something that we missed or that we should look at again! 

If you would like to be tagged in any of my future pieces, check out my tag list above and let me know! And as always, feedback is greatly appreciated!

<3

- DreaSaurusREX

Tag List: 

@fruitloopzzz​ @theeactress​ @melconnor2007 @ashenfallsof @geeksareunique​ @all-by-myself98​ @sj-thefan​ @fuck-your-bad-vibes-dude​ @ntlmundy​ @a-person-unlabled

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

The last few days were weird for you. While working the Virginia Scalpel case, you still had to give lectures and work the occasional museum shift. Luckily you were able to give more and more of your museum shifts to your coworkers, saying that you needed the time to focus on the case or to finalize your lecture outlines. 

Between two lectures and a museum shift, you were able to narrow down your suspect list even more. Pulling every male doctor within a 50-mile radius who fit the height range and who wasn’t super young, old, or generally weak looking. You dropped it off to Jack’s office while he was in a meeting of some sort, thankful that you wouldn’t have to talk to him just yet.

After that night at the Pencalt crime scene, things seemed to take more energy than you expected. You could get up and function through your work day, but when it came to socializing or even having to have work related conversations, you found yourself doing them through email or not at all. This included talking to Hannibal or Will.

Both of them had tried calling or texting you, and you’d try to respond with a “Can’t talk right now,” or an “I’m busy.” But sometimes you didn’t have the energy and straight up ignored them. 

You knew what they wanted to talk about. And you had to admit that after letting it settle in your brain, you wanted to too. But you knew that that conversation would be a long one that required patience.

Which is why you decided to call in sick and work from home today. You weren’t scheduled a lecture or a museum shift, and everything you planned on doing in your office could be done at home. 

You understood the urgency of this case. The team only had about a week left to catch this guy before another doctor would be found in pieces. But you weren’t the only one working this case, and you were still waiting on results from Beverly, Price, and Zeller. So you justified taking today a bit slower and tried to fit in some breaks for self-care as you worked.

The day started out with a peaceful breakfast, something you hadn’t had since before you joined Jack’s team. It was different and odd feeling now, but you tried your best to enjoy it and let your mind relax. After you put your stuff in the dishwasher, you sat down where your work stuff was set up at your dining room table, and felt your mind wander.

I know I should talk to Will or Hannibal, but that would be so draining right now. No. Just focus on breathing and getting as much as you can done today, alright, (Y/N)? We don’t need you combusting over personal shit while your killer is still out there. Now, what haven’t we gone over yet?

You started to sift through some of your scribbles as a piece of paper slid out of place from within your notebook. You slightly tilted your head and pulled the paper out, seeing that webname that you had learned to hate.

“Tattle Crime”

You were going to shove the article back into your book, but you knew that your curiosity would only grow the longer you didn’t read it. With a disapproving sigh, you went ahead and read the article. 

Freddie Lounds didn’t spend much time talking about the killer. She states that Dr. Pencalt was found like the other victims, and how he was a doctor with no obvious correlation to the others. Her “article” tends to focus more on you, Hannibal, and Will. 

“Much like her brother Will Graham, who we have talked about before, (Y/N) supposedly has a gift for the psychologically strange and unusual. But we have to wonder why he isn’t working this case? Will Graham has successfully assisted Jack Crawford and his team on multiple cases in the past. So why bring on a rookie when you have a prized horse in the stables?

Maybe that is why Crawford decided to bring in Dr. Lecter, who was also an integral role in some of the cases that Will Graham had worked on. He has years of medical knowledge outside the realm of psychology that could be helpful in this case, considering the Virginia Scalpel is suspected to have a medical background.. Maybe he will be the key to locking the Virginia Scalpel up for good?”

She then went on to talk more about Hannibal before bringing up the case again. You couldn’t even fully grasp at what you were reading or how to feel about any of it before your phone rang beside you, bringing you back to reality. Only, you didn’t really want to deal with reality when you saw that the caller ID said “Jack Crawford.”

“(Y/N) here.” You tried your best to not sound unenthused, but you couldn’t help the obvious apathy in your voice.

“How soon can you get here?” You knew that this would end with you coming into the office for who knows how long, so you begrudgingly stood up and started to try to find a comfy but work appropriate outfit to change into while talking to Crawford.

“I mean… An hour? Maybe? Give or take 10 minutes. Why? What happened?”

“Got that evidence you were waiting for.” You couldn’t discern if he was at all happy about that.

Of course the one day I try to take it easy is the day we get results. You took a deep breath in and tried to form a coherent sentence.

“I--Uh… Okay. I’ll try to--”

“I’ll see you in the lab in an hour.” Jack interrupted and then hung up before you could say much else, knowing that that was an order, not a suggestion. You put your phone down and groaned before starting to get dressed.

~~~~~~~~

Pulling into your normal parking spot, you saw that you had made it to the office with 15 minutes to spare thanks to you not having the energy to do your hair or makeup today. 

You got to your office and left the door open, knowing you would only be there for a minute or two. While you unpacked your bag, you heard someone clear their throat from your doorway. Turning around, you saw Will standing in the threshold with two cups of coffee. 

“Look what the cat dragged in.” He tried to joke, but you just shot him a look. He winced and extended one of the cups out to you. “Peace offering?”

You sigh and accept the cup, not sure of what to say other than a quick “thanks.” Will stood there while you took a sip and continued to set up your stuff.

“You haven’t answered any of my texts.”

“I’ve been busy. And I’m still quite busy. I have to go and meet with everyone in,” you look at the clock on the wall. “5 minutes.”

“Jack’s really got his hooks in you, huh?” 

 “I tried to take a sick day and work from home, but lab results are in. Which means I’m also in.”

“Sick Day? You never use sick days.”

“First time for everything, I guess.” You turn around and try to walk past him but he stops you.

“(Y/N), I-” 

“I really don’t want to talk. At least not right now. You and Hannibal are on thin ice right now. And there are more important a-and time sensitive things that need to be taken care of.”

“Look, (Y/N), I can explain--”

“Explain what exactly? That you really didn’t trust me when I said that I could handle myself? That you really think I am going to let Jack push me so much during my first real case that you had to have Hannibal step in as some sort of watchdog? I know you’ve had bad experiences with Jack, but goddamnit can’t you just let me learn and experience whatever happens on my own?”

“You’re upset--”

“No shit, Sherlock.” 

“And I-I get that, but just--”

“No. I have a job to do.”

“Then come by the house later. Have a drink, o-or we can get takeout, and I can tell you my side of the story.”

You paused as you looked down slightly and started to fidget with your ring. Will is looking in your general direction, trying to figure out how to ease the anxiety that was surely coursing through your amygdala and hippocampus, or at least some of the resentment that had fought its way through your eyes.

“Even if you don’t want to talk and we end up just sitting around, I’m sure the dogs would like to see their favorite aunt.”

“I’m their only aunt.” You both smiled at the joke. His smile was more out of relief while yours was just a quick smirk. His fades quickly as you rub your face and sigh out, “We’ll see. I have no idea what’s waiting for me in the lab. So I can’t promise anything. And as upset as I am with you, I do miss those dogs.”

“Just let me know when you decide and we will make time for it.”

You just nod and he lets you walk past. Will follows you out and closes the door behind the two of you. Before you could hit the elevator button, he spoke out to you. 

“Despite what you think, I do care about you, you know.” 

You stop in your tracks and turn around to face him. You could see the pain on his face even though you know he was trying to hide it. Your heart broke as you took a large inhale.

“I know you do. We’re family. We’ll always care about each other no matter what.” You give him a small smile to try to reassure him that what you were saying was true. He nodded and headed back towards the lecture halls and you hit the button to call the elevator, preparing yourself for as much insanity as you could.

~~~~~~~~

“(Y/N), right on time” Jack announced as you walked into the lab. Everyone was there and ready to go, including Hannibal who was on the other side of the table facing you. You hoped that he wouldn’t put together how off you were feeling today from your rushed appearance.

“Sorry, I would have been here sooner, but I had a run-in with my brother. What’ve I missed so far?” You opened up your notebook and joined the circle around the exam table that had Dr. Pencalt’s body on it. You internally winced as you realized that Hannibal was most likely going to ask you about your ‘run-in’ with Will after this meeting. 

“Nothing yet. We were just about to start.” Zeller spoke up as he clapped his hands together and began his presentation. A lot of it was information that was similar to the previous victims. All of the cuts were made with surgical tools to ensure clean cuts, no obvious mutilations outside the killer’s usual, all focus was on the doctor as opposed to his wife, and so on.

“The paralytic that was used on Dr. Pencalt was the same as the other vics. It was a high enough dosage that he felt the effects within a minute or two.”

“Do you have the location and angle on the injection point?” Zeller nodded and handed you a printout that had various information about the small needle mark: diameter, insertion angle, depth, et cetera. 

“He was pricked right here.” He used a gloved hand to turn Dr. Pencalt’s head and point to a small dot on the side of his neck. You just nodded and tried to imagine the killer coming and attacking him. You were starting to solidify the height range of your suspect.

“The angle is pretty flat, which means our suspect is either the same height as him or maybe an inch taller or shorter. How tall was Dr. Pencalt?” You heard Jimmy open a file and hum a note as he found out.

“5 foot 11.” You nodded and saw the height range of the shadowy silhouette of the killer in your mind narrow.

“So our killer is between 5’10” and 6’.”

“Is that all?” Jack asked in an audibly annoyed voice. You weren’t sure if it was directed at you specifically or at the situation in general. Jimmy, Brian, and Beverly all looked at each other as if they were kids who had broken an expensive vase and had to tell dad. Beverly was the brave kid that stepped forward.

“No. There is one more thing.” She turned around and got a tray from the other side of the room, bringing it back to the circle. “This was found lodged in his throat.”

On the tray, there was a distorted but still legible article from TattleCrime.com, the same article that was in your apartment. The only major difference was that this one was highlighted wherever it mentioned Hannibal or you. 

“We tried to pull any sort of prints or DNA off of it, but the only thing we got was Dr. Pencalt’s blood and saliva. The article is from our favorite tabloid, Tattle Crime. It’s about the case, but it also talks about (Y/N) and Hannibal...”

You tried to control your breathing as Beverly kept speaking, forcing yourself to take slightly deeper breaths than normal hoping no one would pick up on it as you finally spoke up.

“So, fun story…” Everyone’s eyes landed on you. “I have that same article printed out, but I didn’t print it. Someone slipped it under my door the other night.”

You saw Jack readjust his stance, a frustrated look growing in his eyes, and started to speak, but you cut him off, already knowing where this was going. 

“I didn’t bring it up because I honestly thought Hannibal or Will had slid it into my apartment as a way to try to scare me and make me resign from the case. For personal reasons, I have avoided talking to either of them unless it was absolutely necessary. So I never confirmed my theory.” 

You couldn’t bring yourself to look at Hannibal or Jack. But if you had, you would have seen the small bit of guilt in Hannibal’s face. He knew no one else would pick up on it because he was a master at keeping his mask on to others, but after being with him as long as you had, you could see between the cracks. 

Jack looked towards Hannibal.

“Dr. Lecter, did you send the article to (Y/N)?”

“I did not. I’m just as taken aback as everyone else here.” 

“And did you receive a copy of this article at any point during the last week?”

“No. I have not read anything from Miss Lound’s website for a significant amount of time now.” Jack took a breath in and tried to be logical and figure out what the next step needed to be.

“Alright, you guys get me a list of every medical facility that supplies that paralytic. (Y/N), get your copy and give it to Price to see if he can get anything off of it. Then I want you and Dr. Lecter in my office.” Jack walked out before anyone could say anything.

You stood there in a bit of shock as you looked at the soiled article in front of you. You tried to read through the bits of blurred text. Everything involving you or Hannibal was doused in bright yellow marker. 

“Um… (Y/N)?” You couldn’t help the small instinctual jump as Jimmy tapped your shoulder. You quickly looked to him, trying to look okay despite learning that your name was literally in a key piece of evidence. “You okay?”

“Hm? Y-yeah! I mean, not really, but we’re not gonna talk about that right now.” You let out a forced exhale that you tried to make sound like a chuckle through a very forced smile. Before Price could ask anything else, you spoke up. “Here. It-its right here.”

“And you were the only one to touch this, right?” Price asked as he carefully grabbed the corners of your Tattle Crime article with clean and gloved hands. You just nodded in response. “I’ll let you know if I find anything.” 

You mutter a quick thank you and then make your way back to the elevator and back to your office to write out your notes on the killer’s more specific height range and the highlighted sections of the article in your notebook. 

Why us? I can somewhat understand Hannibal being chosen from an occupational standpoint. He is not only a psychiatrist, but he used to be a surgeon. But he has no ties to any of these other doctors. And what’s so special about me? I’m not a doctor of any kind. I don’t fit the killer’s m.o.

Your mind kept going on this internal monologue, trying to find any solid reasoning as to why both of you are now being focused on. It got even more frantic as you realized you only had about a week to figure it all out. 

Before you could write out much, you heard a soft knock on your open office door. You didn’t even bother looking up.

“Will, I really can’t do this right now. I told you I would text you when-- Oh. Sorry, Dr. Lecter.” You expected Will to be impatient and try to talk to you again, but instead you were met with the careful gaze of Hannibal. 

“No need to apologize.” He shut the door behind him and took a seat. “I thought you were comfortable with addressing me by my first name, (Y/N). Has that changed?”

“Look, I know you’re not really here to talk about that. But I’m not okay enough to talk about our personal lives at the moment. And if you’re here to ask about the Tattle Crime shit, I have no idea how--”

“I came to check up on you because I am worried about you, (Y/N).” You were taken aback for a moment. Not only does Hannibal usually never interrupt you when speaking, but he isn't always the most forthcoming when talking about emotions or concern.

“I’m fine.” You go back to trying to write out your ideas, knowing that if you gave him a fake smile, Hannibal would see right through it.

“The fact that you clearly stated that you were ‘not okay enough to talk about our personal lives’ and that you planned on taking a sick day today says otherwise.” 

You took a deep inhale and closed your notebook. Trying to not dump all of your thoughts, work related or personal, on him.

“It wasn’t really a sick day. It was supposed to be a day where I worked from home to try to remind myself to take a break and eat an actual meal, or do my laundry that’s been piling up, or maybe finally hang up that frame I bought three weeks ago. But apparently that wasn’t in my cards today. Yes, I’m tired. Yes, I don’t want to be around people right now. Yes, I really don’t want to be talking to you or Will about anything other than work right now. So if I need to be here, then I’m here. That’s my job.”

“But no matter how stressful a job is, you need to be able to recalibrate your mind so as to not overwork yourself until you become a hindrance. Holding on to the frustration and betrayal that you feel are surely contributing to that lack of ability to rest, (Y/N). If you allow yourself to talk to Will about it, or even myself if you feel more comfortable--”

“All of my focus is trying to go to this case, moreso now that you and I may be targets. I am your colleague and your friend. But I really don’t want to ruin the good relationship that we have by talking to you like I’m one of your patients, because I’m not one of your patients. So please, just--” 

You stopped yourself as you felt something click into place. Hannibal watched as you had a similar look in your eyes like how he had witnessed at the Pencalt crime scene. 

“Patient…” You were slowly closing your mind’s eye and seeing things clearly.

“You’ve figured something out, haven’t you?” Hannibal leaned forward in his seat in curiosity, truly enthralled by watching how your brain worked in these situations.

“A patient! The killer is a patient! Oh my god! We gotta go now!” You quickly stood up, grabbing your notebook as you did. “I think I just figured out who our killer is!”

[justimajin]

It’s a Reverse Basket ◍ Part 19

⇝ Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

⇝ Genre: Fluff, Comedy, Angst

↳ Basketball AU, Crossdressing AU

⇝ Words: 4.3k

⇝ Summary: Basketball is your everything; your passion for it running deep and wanting nothing more then to play the sport. Problem is, the sport isn’t offered competitively to girls and with that, all your hopes immediately fizzle away… …but who ever said that was going to stop you?

⇝ Warnings: pg13; pretty much the calm before the storm

gif credit.

⇝ Previous Parts: Moodboard Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18

⇝ Next Update: Tuesday, July 21 

Nationals have left you feeling numb lately.

Although the thrill of playing at a state level and having the earnest training is more than enough, you find yourself eventually growing weary and desperately needing a break.

Which is why once your phone rings and the voice of your best friend comes through, you are extremely grateful to spend the entire evening rambling to her about all your experiences. However she poses a question you’re not sure on how to answer.

“So how come I haven’t met Yoongi yet?” Hyerin speculates, halting your sprawling words with her curiosity, “You’ve been together for a while now.”

“Oh.” You blink, “You’re right...I haven’t introduced you to Yoongi.”

“Do you guys have any upcoming games?” Your vision swings over to your brightly marked calendar, the next impending match being the following week.

“...I actually think our schedule will be free.”

“That’s great!” Hyerin exclaims, “You should bring Yoongi over and I can finally meet him. We could even drop by the school!”

“The school…?” Your voice grows reluctant and Hyerin senses it right away.

“It’ll be great Y/N!” She attempts to persuade you, but you know well enough that Hyerin probably has a more secondary purpose in doing so – namely getting you to come back at least once. 

Although you’re not hugely keen on suddenly reappearing at the school you had left months ago, Hyerin’s constant convincing eventually wears you down. You agree to her wishes with a sigh, wondering to yourself how you’re going to bring this idea up to the other party involved. 

***

Your grip tightens on the basketball, huffs of air leaving you. Your shoes roughly skid against the floor until you come to an eventual halt and push yourself off the ground. The ball ends up hitting the backboard of the basket, bouncing against it and then descending into the hoop. With a sigh of relief, you catch it and lazily dribble, eyes only perking up at the sight of a figure jogging over in your direction.  

Yoongi leans down to grab a towel, whipping away a sheen of sweat from his forehead. You awkwardly linger behind him, biting down on your lower lip. 

You were in the middle of nationals – the most important time of the year for your team. It truthfully wouldn’t take much to simply slip away for a single day, but you’re at such a crucial point in time that you find yourself backtracking on the promise you had given your best friend.

A loud whistle interjects your thoughts, your view drifting over to Namjoon who announces that practice was done for the day. You instantly spin around, abruptly making eye contact with Yoongi as he downs a water bottle.

“I–“

“Good work today Yoongi!” Namjoon pats Yoongi’s back, clearly happy with his performance as the latter simply resumes to quenching his thirst, “Training’s going to get harder in these next couple of days, so make sure you’re all prepared.”

You nod as Namjoon smiles at the two of you, eventually detaching from Yoongi and gesturing for him to follow. A dejected sigh slips out from you, but it’s quickly replaced with surprise once Yoongi tells Namjoon that he’ll leave in a minute.

Eyes widening, Yoongi turns around and furrows his brows. 

“Did you want to tell me something?” His entire interest is pointed towards you now and there’s a faint ray of pink creeping onto your features from the sudden attention.

“I uh, well,” You aimlessly play around with your hands, “My best friend has been wanting to meet you and she thought it would be a good idea to visit my old high school together...”

You dart a glimpse at him, wondering if he was contemplating the idea during the time of the nationals. To your complete surprise though, Yoongi isn’t taken aback with it.  

“Sure, when do you want to go?”

Your eyes are huge, “Really?”

Yoongi shrugs, “Why not? It’ll help to get away from this,” He gestures around to the exhausted set of individuals in your team making their way back to their dorms after yet another prolonged day of practice, “and you said she’s your best friend?”

You nod and Yoongi softly smiles, “Then I’ll definitely need to meet her.”

A huge smile scatters across your features from his response. Here you were petrified about the whole prospect’s ill timing, but Yoongi seems to understand your intentions and you can’t contain the excitement of Hyerin finally getting to meet him.

***

You teeter-totter on your heels, glancing down at the way your bright crimson dress sprays out and frills at the bottom. There’s a black bag tightly snugged underneath your shoulder, the long deceiving locks on your head pushed back into a high ponytail.

Your hair bounces as you sharply turn, the door in front of you revealing your best friend's characteristic smile. 

“You made it!”

You grin, letting her tug you inside, “Wow Y/N, dressing up when you’re with Yoongi, huh?”

A cheeky smile is on Hyerin’s lips but you sheepishly shake your head, “It’s not like that.”

Truthfully, you dress like this more for yourself. It's a bit of a selfish request on your behalf, but since you’re usually adorned in the same jersey and pair of shorts everyday, you eventually discovered how much you’ve missed having a decent choice in between your appearance. However, the fact that you’ve especially put more effort into it because Yoongi will be joining you…perhaps isn’t too far fetched.

“Is it too much?” You abruptly question, wide eyes left deliberating as Hyerin chuckles and shakes her head.

“I think you look nice.” She pushes out a chair for you to sit on, something you’re grateful for when the heels slip out of your feet. Hyerin joins you on the opposite side of the table, planting a hand on her cheek and staring at you with eager eyes.

“Well? What is he like?” The abrupt interest amuses you, eyes soon lost in thought.

“I guess……” You jut out your bottom lip, searching for the right answer, “...cute?”

“Cute?” Hyerin laughs, “Really?”

“Yeah…” You laugh alongside her, wondering to yourself why out of all words – that’s the one you feel describes him the best, “Don’t say that to him though, he won’t like it.”

“So he’s cute but doesn’t like to be called cute?” Hyerin mulls over it and raises her brows, “Didn’t you say he’s the Captain of your team? And that he’s really strict with you?”

You instantly nod, “That’s all true, but he has this side to him that’s very…soft?” A giggle escapes you at the weird word usage again, “Like he’s only gets strict with us if no one’s listening during practice or if we’re all doing something wrong, but behind that Captain side of his is someone who really cares and just wants the best for me.” 

You sheepishly laugh, ignoring the flush of pink spreading over you. It’s strange to put your image of Yoongi into coherent sentences, but you can’t ignore the amount of times he’s been there for you and in turn how much great admiration you have for him. You catch a glimpse of Hyerin’s expression in the midst of your thoughts, noticing she has both her hands planted on her cheeks, gazing at you as if you were telling her the greatest story in existence.

You blink, startled from her undivided attention. She laughs at your reaction and you meekly sink back down into your seat, growing bashful. A soft knock resonates against the door, and Hyerin instantly rises from her spot. 

A smug smile curls at the corner of her lips, “Looks like I get to find out for myself~”

You quickly get up and smooth down your skirt as Hyerin approaches the door. Quietly following behind her, a deep voice echoes through the halls.

“Oh, so you’re Yoongi!” Hyerin exclaims and from the corner of your eye, you see her arm move as if to shake his hand.

She whirls around, “Hey Y–“ You appear closer to the door, still leaning against the wall.

Surprise spreads through you when Yoongi glances in your direction, dressed in a loose white-shirt and a black leather jacket. His hands are wrapped around a bag which he seems to be in the midst of offering to Hyerin. The look his eyes send you throws you a bit off guard, a shy ray of pink brimming on your features.

Yoongi steps in and Hyerin closes the door, spinning around and gesturing for you to sit down on her couch. Planting yourself down, you smile when Yoongi settles in beside you and gives you a sheepish grin, his darting eyes and fumbling hands giving you a clear indication of what he was currently feeling being there at the moment. 

Hyerin soon pokes her head out and sits opposite to you, a giant smile on her lips. However, her eyes then land on Yoongi and for a moment, you could have sworn you could see some displeasure spark in them.

“So.” She begins, “I’ve heard you’re the Captain of the team Y/N’s on.”

Yoongi nods, fisting his jeans in his hands, “I met her during try-outs.”

She hums, “How long have you guys been together?”

Yoongi frowns, glancing in your direction when you begin to backtrack too. It wasn’t something the two of you were really keeping track of.

“A couple of months now?” You warily stare at him and he nods, content with the answer before darting his eyes back at Hyerin.

Hyerin hums again, crossing his legs and keeping a curious finger against her lips.

“When did you find out about Y/N being a girl?”

“I found out before she got selected for the team. I also knew that she was wearing a wig to disguise herself.” You pout when Yoongi grins at you and Hyerin’s eyes light up.

“You knew about that atrocious wig?” 

Yoongi tilts his head and pursues his lips, “I wouldn’t say it was atrocious but strange. Her natural hair is prettier.”

A profuse blush accompanies his words and Hyerin grins.

“What else do you like about Y/N?”

“It’s hard to say,” Yoongi gazes at you and for some reason, you automatically shrink from the attention, “I think there’s too many things.”

“She’s a really determined person.” Hyerin mentions and Yoongi nods.

“When I found out she was disgusting herself as a guy just for basketball...” He chuckles, “I think I first hand saw that determination up close.”

She hums, “But she can be really too shy at times.”

“It adds to her charm,” Yoongi’s eyes turn tender and at this point, you kind of want to just disappear. “And also makes it fun to tease her.”

Hyerin jumps in her seat, “Right?!”

You watch them continue discussing all your little quirks and traits like they were talking about their favourite person in the world and you can only gape at how much Yoongi seems to be enjoying it. But that’s when Hyerin leans forward, becoming daring with her curious inquiries. 

“So you’ve guys only kissed, right?” Your eyes are wide, frozen solid in place. 

“For now.” Yoongi says with the most deadpan expression you’ve ever seen on him. His answer baffles you, his eyes briefly meeting yours and leaving you speechless. You only snap out of it when he lets out a low snicker, breaking into full laughter as he takes in your startled appearance and you resort to sighing at his teasing.  

“Well then.” Hyerin relaxes, leaning back. She crosses her arms, eyes sharply narrowing.

You’re taken back to the interrogation style she was first using on Yoongi before becoming comfortable, the intensity feeling increased this time around.

“I guess it’s only fair for me to ask this now.” Hyerin states, drawing all of your attention, “do you, Min Yoongi, intend on marrying Y/N in the future?”

A cluster of coughs violently escape your body. Hyerin passes you a bottle of water, something you down right away before exchanging wide eyes between her and Yoongi.

“I was being serious.” Hyerin mentions, “I only want Y/N to be happy in the end, so I have to check.”

“We’re in high school.” Yoongi brings up, as if stating the obvious. You hurriedly nod, backing up his words.

“I-It’s way too early for that….”

Hyerin isn’t satisfied though, “Let’s say some time in the future – not now.” She sharply interjects, eyeing both of you intently, “You’re near that age. What about then?”

You shake your head, “That’s really far too off Hyerin, I don’t think–“

“It’s not impossible.”  Yoongi mutters, staring at the ground, “At least, that’s what I think.”

Your eyes are the widest they can be, skin utterly red at this point. Hyerin notices the exchange and bursts out laughing, resulting in you being even more flushed.

“Well, I got my answer.” She wipes away a tear and gets up, “Come on. I think that’s enough questions for now.”

You nod, warily placing the glass in your hand back on the table. Yoongi rises from his seat the same time you do, occasionally taking glimpses at the window outside. In the meanwhile, you can only stare at him in surprise  as you wait for Hyerin, a small unmistaken smile rising on your lips. 

***

It’s bizarre being in the same place you left months ago.

Hyerin’s excited when she shows you around the classrooms and the old cafeteria again, reminiscing on the moments you would spend whispering to each other when you were bored in class to eating lunch together. Although you truly loved the school and enjoyed your time being with your best friend, it almost seems like you’re revisiting a stepping stone that was in the way of what you really wanted to do – and it becomes even more apparent the moment you enter the school’s gym.

It piques your immediate interest, recollecting memories of wandering into it during late hours just to practice playing basketball. It also reminds you of the time you had been stuck with the girl’s recreational team, the rules of the game and all the seriousness being replaced with somber and lazy playing instead.

It’s something Yoongi notices as well, “The gym is really…small.”

“We’re not really a school that focuses on sports.” Hyerin mentions, grabbing a basketball from a nearby cart and tossing it over to you, “Y/N used to practice here though.”

As your hands trace against the rough texture of the ball, you can only huff at the dress and heels you’re wearing. It’s the first time you sincerely wish to be wearing the jersey and pair of shorts you’ve gotten accustomed to and Yoongi smiles when you push off your shoes and throw the ball towards the hoop.

The ball instantly sinks in and Hyerin victoriously exclaims, to which you smile and continue dribbling. Yoongi shifts over with crossed arms, eyeing your best friend.

“They don’t have a competitive team here?” He whispers, still observing you knab another basket.

“No, only recreational ones.” Hyerin sighs, “They gave the title of being competitive to the boys team since the girls team was basically non-existent for our school.”

Yoongi hums and Hyerin gestures towards you, “Y/N was a part of the team for a while but she hated it. That’s when she started practicing on her own though it still wasn’t enough.”

“I can tell.” Yoongi says right away, “Y/N’s too good at basketball to not play competitively.”

Hyerin nods, but then a chuckle leaves her, “It’s actually funny, it seems like just yesterday she was telling me about how amazing Bangtan Sonyeondan’s record is and their statistics. I didn’t think she would want to go to such lengths to be on the team.”

“It was surprising.” Yoongi recollects the moment he had found out about your secret, a million scenarios running through his mind as to why you would do it only to be answered in the simplest way – your love for basketball.

A smile quirks on Hyerin’s lips, “Even more surprising that she’s dating the captain now.” There’s a mischievous glint in her eyes, “So did Y/N confess first?”

Yoongi pursues his lips, sending a glare in her direction, “You just want me to fess up.”

“Hm? So you were the one to take her out on a date first?” Hyerin smugly smiles and Yoongi rolls his eyes.

“She told you?”

“Of course she did, she’s my best friend.” Hyerin retorts the obvious and Yoongi sighs, eyes still lingering on you, “Besides, you’re around her more these days so I don’t know what’s going on with her right away.”

Yoongi raises a brow, “What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means you have to be my eyes.” Hyerin crosses her arms, voice lowering as she stares at Yoongi, “Don’t let her get hurt, okay?”

Yoongi scoffs, stuffing his hands in his jacket’s pockets, “Do you even need to ask me that?”

“Hey, I have to know.” Hyerin presses, needing a clearer answer. “Do you promise?” 

Yoongi glances in her direction, giving her a sincere look. 

“Promise.”

“Good.” Hyerin spins around, ogling at your effortless dribbling around the court, “Damn, how are you still so good at playing basketball in a dress?”

You giggle, mid-way in between taking a shot, “It’s honestly a lot harder than it looks.”

“Here, let me try!” You hand Hyerin the basketball and she takes a flimsy shot. The ball hits against the rim and falls right back onto the ground within seconds. Yoongi snorts, and she glares at him.

“I don’t need any extra sound effects Captain.” She attempts to take another shot but the ball flies up into the air and then descends down, barely reaching the basket. You and Yoongi share a glance, clearly trying to conceal the laughter from brimming up.

Hyerin lets go of the basketball in exasperation, letting it roll as the two of you are still keeping your laughter at bay. The ball continues to roll until it hits a pair of feet.

You glance behind Hyerin to see where it could have gone, the bright smile you were holding instantly dropping.

“Y/N?” The ball is in his hands, his eyes wide and astonishment written over him, “You came back?”

You grimace from his tone, sounding more accusatory than pleasant, “Still didn’t get accepted into a competitive team, huh?” He dribbles the basketball with a shrewd grin, “That’s tragic.”

Hyerin grows furious at your prolonged silence. She’s prepared to march right up to this guy and let him have a piece of her mind, but she ends up being too late.

Yoongi reaches out his hand, “Can we have the basketball back?”

The boy frowns, staring at Yoongi intently until the recognition snaps into him.

He completely ignores his request, “Aren’t you part of that team…uh Bangtan something?”

Yoongi doesn’t answer, instead he swiftly retrieves the ball in the midst of his dribbling and hands it over to you.

“It’s actually Bangtan Sondeyeon.” Yoongi states, “Currently the leading team in this year’s nationals.”

His eyes widen and you could have sworn Yoongi had smirked for a moment, but it disappears as he nonchalantly strolls back to your side of the court.

Hyerin smiles, “Have fun with your losing team!” You watch as he turns with a scoff, shoulders tightened before leaving the gym.

“Idiot.” Hyerin mumbles underneath her breath.

“Who was that?” Yoongi ponders.

“Well our very own lovely competitive team is always lurking around here in some corner.” She sighs, “They're all just annoying and used to bother Y/N a lot back in the days.”

Yoongi glances at you surprised and you shrug, “Not the nicest of people.”

“I bet they haven’t even made it to nationals with their bogus attitudes.” Hyerin crosses her arms and whirls around, “Anyways, you guys want to head out?”

You nod, following her out.

***

“Are you going back soon?” Hyerin questions, standing in front of the door to her house.  

You nod, “We have practice early in the morning for our next game.”

Hyerin hums, “I see….”

“Oh!” You abruptly face her, “How have your parents been? Last time we met, I was getting ready to move.”

“They should be back home by tonight. I was going to actually ask if you wanted to stay over…”

Her voice grows quieter and you pursue your lips. Although you wouldn’t have normally hesitated, you know this isn’t solely your call to make.

“How many practices do we have this week?”

Yoongi darts his eyes up, “A couple. Are you planning to miss them?”

“Just one.” You smile, “Hyerin wants me to stay back but I’m not sure if missing tomorrow’s practice will be great.”

“You’re not going to be here for a while, right?” Yoongi shrugs, “I’d say go for it. Who knows when you’ll get time like this again?”

 You hum, eyes lighting up as you whirl around to face Hyerin with a smile, “Well looks like I’ll be staying for the night.”

There’s a huge grin on her features and she rushes to unlock the door, ushering you inside. Yoongi asks if you can bring his bag back and you leave to retrieve it from the house, leaving the two of them alone at the door frame.

“It was nice to finally meet you Captain.” Hyerin remarks, reaching out her hand for him to shake, “It’s reassuring to know Y/N has someone like you around.”

Yoongi softly smiles, reciprocating the handshake, “It honestly goes both ways.”

Something flickers in Hyerin’s eyes, quickly darting to see you still occupied. Her voice drops down into a whisper, a questioning gaze directed at Yoongi.

“If you could describe her with one word, what would you pick?”

Yoongi raises an eyebrow at that, his attention being whisked away when you abruptly dart your head up from the couch with a huge smile. “Found it!”

He chuckles, leaning closer to Hyerin.

“Cute.” He watches you head over, “Really cute. But don’t tell her that, she’ll get too flustered.”

Hyerin’s eyes are astonishingly wide by the time you make it over, handing Yoongi’s his bag. He leans forward, softly pecking your lips before tugging the bag onto his shoulder.

“I’ll see you at the next practice.” He whispers gently, making his way down the front door’s steps. You remain frozen in place, not expecting him to kiss you so suddenly with your best friend nearby.

Hyerin laughs at your naive eyes, clasping onto your wrist and dragging you inside. 

***

Your best friend sighs, rummaging through her fridge, “Well at least now I know who this Yoongi guy is that you kept talking about.”

“It seemed like you two were getting along pretty well.” You warmly smile, seated at the kitchen counter and watching her with intrigued eyes. 

“Of course.” Hyerin takes out a huge stack of sliced meats, presumably for dinner, “Any boyfriend of my best friend is a friend of mine.”

You quirk an eyebrow, “Probably helped because you’re very similar as well.”

“Similar?” Hyerin freezes, staring at you in astonishment, “Please, I’m much better.”

You giggle and Hyerin closes the fridge, clearly exhausted from hauling out all the ingredients currently layered onto the counter. “Alright, I got everything my mom wanted.” She grabs a glass of water and hands you one as well, plopping down onto the seat beside you, “Now, we relax!”

You smile and take a sip, “So when are nationals ending? Are they running the games till the end of the school year?”

“No, it’s supposed to end before then. I think it’s mandatory for all the different teams competing this year.”

Hyerin hums, “What about graduation then? Any plans for that?”

You pause, wondering what she meant by that until it finally dawns onto you, “Right…graduation…”

“Did you forget? Or did the whole transferring to another school mess that up for you?”

“No, you’re right but–“ You press your lips together, features tense, “I’m not the same Y/N.”

Hyerin widens her eyes, placing her water on the counter in realization, “Oh yeah, I wanted to ask you about that. What are you going to do Y/N?”

“I can still technically graduate…”

But everyone only knows about me being a boy.

“…I-I don’t think I can see anyone after I do though…”

Fear fills your eyes when you glance up at Hyerin. Truthfully, you had been so ecstatic with the prospect of playing competitively at the moment that you hadn’t thought through the ramifications your secret will bring. Although leaving the school shouldn’t be a problem because you’ve only had a mere identity switch, the relationships and friendships you’ve created will all surely become jeopardized once you leave.

“What’s the next step from all this then?” Hyerin whispers, placing her arm on your shoulder, “What’s going to happen after graduation?” 

You don’t answer, only one solution swimming around in your mind that could potentially work. However, you just wonder what type of impact it’ll end up causing.

Is it time you no longer keep your identity a secret?

[outer-bnks]

Two Burning Hearts Are Dared To Break (JJ x OC) Ch. 5

Chapters: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10

In which Elle finds a drunk Rafe on the beach after her fight with JJ and turns to him for comfort.

Warning: mild swearing, mentions of underage drinking, mentions of being drunk/intoxicated

A/N: this gif is something else!!! Drew Starkey deserves more scenes in s2, just saying!! Was really fun to write Rafe as a big softie and explore their history together. Elle doesn’t know that Rafe killed the Sheriff. This chapter gives a little bit more info on Elle’s background and her relationships with the other characters. Also this chapter kind of made me wonder whether Rafe would be a good match for Elle. 

Who should she end up with, JJ, Rafe or Topper? Let me know.

Word count: 2k

She had ended up at the beach at the bottom of her house. It wasn’t a surprise that this is where she’d end up, the water glowing in the moonlight, the waves calmly washing onto the shore. It had been a few hours since she had left JJ’s house, her mind still reeling over what had happened between them. The tears had long gone, but the churning in her stomach felt like it wasn’t ever going to end. Watching her feet as she walked along the water's edge, she heard quiet muttering coming from the beneath the tree line. 

Walking towards the sound cautiously, she caught sight of a figure moving up into a sitting position, “Hello?”, the mystery person sounded. She recognised that voice, sighing at the realisation. 

“Rafe? What’re you doing here?” Elle questioned as she moved to inspect the situation more, his face coming into focus.

“What does it look like?” he responded, arms out wide. Elle remained silent, taking note of his tear-stained face and the slight vulnerability that came through in his voice.

“Want some?” he offered, outstretching his hand holding up an almost empty bottle of whiskey. She shook her head, taking a seat next to him, holding her bent legs close to her chest. They sat in silence for a few minutes.

“What’s up with you?” he asked confusedly.

Keeping her eyes on the water so as to not give her emotions away, she asked “What do you mean?”

“Well aren’t you supposed to be with your Pogue friends in The Cut, instead of sitting here with a kook, drinking Whiskey on Wednesday night?”. He was right. She should be with her friends right now, grieving, sharing memories, eating, Elle would’ve been happy doing anything with them right now. 

She remained quiet, moving her gaze away from the water to her feet in the sand, not able to find the courage to open up to Rafe of all people yet.

“Did something happen?” he asked softly, wary of pressing too hard, after picking up on her defeated body language.

She scoffed, “You could say that”.

He studied her side profile for a minute, “Do you wanna talk about it?”.

Elle let out a short chuckle. Never would she have imagined that she would be sitting next to a drunk Rafe considering telling him about her feelings.

So instead of doing just that, she put her defences up, sarcasm seeping into her tone “As if you care Rafe”.

He sighed, “I know I’ve been a dick-”

“You could say that again”           

“but… things are different now”

“So what, I’m just supposed to forgive and forget all the times you’ve come after us? You, Kelce and Topper have nearly killed us, on more than one occasion”, she snapped, her eyes narrowing to finally look at him.

Rafe swallowed, his throat working at the seriousness in Elle’s tone. And although he was drunk and couldn’t form coherent thoughts, he felt himself sobering up at her words.

“No. You’re not. You shouldn’t forgive me at all. But you’re one of the only people who would actually understand how I feel right now, and it seems to me that you need someone just as much as I do”, his voice quieting at the last part of his sentence.

Elle searched his eyes, for the smallest glimmer of insincerity, silence falling upon them once again.

“It’s just that. Usually when I need someone to talk to, I go to John B. And now that he’s, um, gone, I don’t know who to turn to” she blurted out, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

Rafe masked his surprise at her outburst with sympathy, “Can you not talk to the others?”

“Hard to talk to them about the issue when they’re apart of it”, she sighed, twirling with the rings on her right hand. It was one of her nervous habits that she did without realising, along with playing with her earrings. 

His eyebrows raised, finally understanding what she was upset about, “Oh”.

He paused for a minute, trying to gather his sober words amongst his drunk thoughts, “Maybe just give it some time? From what I’ve seen, you guys are like...real friends. That doesn’t just disappear after one fight”.

Elle nodded, his words somewhat comforting her.

They both looked back out to the water, a calmness washing over the both of them.

“Do you ever think that they might still be alive?”, he mumbled, taking another swig from the whiskey bottle.

She sucked in a breath, surprised at his question. Everyone was still too sensitive to talk about John B and Sarah, which made it hard for Elle to process her thoughts and emotions about the whole situation.

It was her turn to study his side profile, watching for any emotions to arise, “Yeah, sometimes. But holding on to that slim possibility, I don’t think it will do us too much good”, she confessed.

He nodded, looking at her quickly before turning back to the water, not wanting to see her reaction when he admitted this. “It was my fault”.

“What?” Elle questioned, her eyebrows furrowing.

“She’s my little sister. I was supposed to protect her. I’m supposed to protect my family”, his tone was rising, his frustration shining through.

She held a calm and steady voice, “Rafe, it’s not your fault.” 

“Yes it is Elle! I’m the reason they got on that damn boat and drove into the storm.”

“Rafe you can’t think like that. You’ll tear yourself apart!”

“A little too late for that”, he scoffed. He ran both hands through his hair before resting his arms back onto the top of his bent knees.

Elle felt an urge to open up to him. To tell him about everything that she was feeling, about her grief and her anger and her loneliness.

She shifted in her position, moving into a crossed legged position. “JJ and I had a fight”.

Rafe waited for her to continue.

“He does this thing, when things become too much for him, he pulls away and tries to shut himself off. Usually you just need to give him time to cool off and he comes back to you. But I don’t know-” Elle shook her head “this time felt different.”

The words that came next didn’t need much preparation, “Well these circumstances are different Elle, he probably just doesn’t know how to cope. I’m sure he’ll come back to you. I doubt he’d ever give you up by choice, that kid’s like in love with you”, he finished, laughing lightly.

Elle laughed, stunned by his response, “What? No he’s not!”.

He shook his head, knowing she’d deny it. “Come on Elle, you’d have to blind- or just stupid, to not be able to see that he is head over heels for you”, he turned, watching as a glimmer of hope flickered in her eyes.

“Nah Rafe, you’re being dramatic”.

“Whatever you wanna believe Elle, but trust me on this,” he paused, maintaining eye contact with for, “if I had someone who cared about me the way that you care about him, I’d never let that go”.

Elle felt her heart swell slightly. Rafe hadn’t been this kind or honest to her, in a long time. She gave him a close-lipped smile, grateful for his words.

Elle watched as the wheels in his head turned, waiting for what question was coming next. Her and Rafe used to be good at this, at sitting and talking and asking each other questions about their lives. 

When Rafe landed on the one he wanted to ask, he turned to her again, his eyes glazed over from his intoxicated state. “Is it fun being a Pogue?”

She took a minute to think about his question,“When you’re a Kook who doesn’t have to worry about money it’s fun. Why do you ask?”

He broke his gaze from her, looking down to the sand, drawing shapes into it with his index finger, “You guys just seem so… carefree?”. His statement came out more like a question.

“I guess. It’s easy for me to be carefree because I come from a privileged background, but uh, for the boys, there’s definitely a lot more to it. Can’t be all that carefree when you have to work 24/7 just to feed yourself and keep a roof over your head”. Her mind flashed back to JJ, the way it always seems to.

He brushed the sand off from his hand, “You know, if I was sober I definitely wouldn’t be saying this but” Elle’s heart quickened for a moment, worried about where this confession was going- “I have a lot of respect for you.”

She couldn’t help but let out a laugh. “Respect? Ever since I left the Kook Academy you’ve bullied the shit out of me”. Although what she had said was of a usually serious topic, Elle kept the smile on her face, amused by this conversation.

Rafe nodded, “I know I know. But leaving this lifestyle to be with people who you actually love, that makes you a far better person than I’ll ever be.” He hoped she wouldn’t question him further, he wasn’t ready to hurt her more than she already seemed to be.

Thankfully, she didn’t, “Never too late to be a good person Rafe”

Moments of silence passed before Rafe sighed addressing the elephant in the room, “I’m sorry. For everything.”

“I’m sorry too,” she responded, sincerity in her tone.

Rafe’s face contorted out of confusion, “What are you sorry for?”

“Well, after everything that happened with Archer, I kind of just... got up and left you guys” she said, bowing her head to look down at the sand.

He understood what she meant. Her departure from their friendship group had been abrupt, but for a good reason. He let out a soft laugh,“I don’t blame you, he was a piece of shit”.

“Yeah he was, but we were friends.” 

“How do you trust people again after what happened with him?’’ he questioned quietly, afraid to open old wounds.

“Rafe we had a shitty relationship, it’s not like he ruined my life entirely” she laughed.

“It was more than a shitty relationship Elle. You didn’t deserve to be treated like that. And I should’ve told you about her as soon as I found out about it all”. Elle detected regret in his words, but the usual anger that she felt when thinking about Archer and her was absent. Even though it was an emotionally draining time for Elle, life seemed so much lighter back then compared to now.

“Can’t argue with that one.” she shot back, adding in a laugh to let him know that she wasn’t angry.

“Rafe-” she paused, unsure if she wanted to know the answer, “how long did you know about them before I found out?”.

“Uhm,” he hesitated, “maybe like 5 months?” he confessed regrettably.

Elle nodded her head slowly, processing his answer.

“If it’s any consolation, I beat the shit out of him for you”

Elle broke out into laughter. “Yeah I don’t doubt that, but thanks, I guess?”

His face broke out into a full smile, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen him smile like that, let alone be the reason for it. 

“You’re welcome.”

A cool breeze washed over Elle making her shiver, deciding that now was probably a good time to get drunk Rafe home. “Hey, we should probably get out of here”.

“Yeah you’re right, I can feel my hangover coming already”.

Elle got out her phone, unlocking it and searching for one of the numbers she never thought she’d have to call again after leaving the Academy- Topper Thornton. 

-----

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[spaceskam]

i count the silent days till i hear you sing once more

for @malexweek day 7: au! sequel to sing like we’re losing everything 

warning: blood, suicidal thoughts

ao3

“My head hurts.”

“I know, I know.”

Truthfully, everyone knew more than Alex’s head hurt. His whole body had to ache and his newly stitched up stump had to be the source of a fuckton of pain. However, Alex seemed to think if he didn’t mention how much his leg hurt, then he wouldn’t really be admitting to any weakness. Michael wasn’t about to take that away from him too.

Guilt pooled in Michael’s body every time he looked at his missing leg. So, as Kyle cleaned it up, he chose to focus on running his fingers through Alex’s sweaty hair and making sure he didn’t die from the blood loss.

“Aren’t… aren’t you gonna…” Alex whispered, shifting slightly. Michael instantly shushed him.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got everything under control. Just rest, okay?”

“But,” Alex said, “I got bit. You-you need… you need to…”

Michael shared an uncomfortable look with Kyle. He knew what he was suggesting. That they tie him down until they were sure it hadn’t entered his blood stream. However, they’d managed to find everyone and make it out of the store and all the way home and all the way through Kyle stitching him up. It seemed like they were at least out of those woods.

“I’ve got everything under control,” Michael repeated, pushing his hair away from his forehead, “Don’t worry.”

“I’m gonna go see if we have any tylenol,” Kyle said softly, carefully standing off the couch.

Alex’s head was securely in Michael’s lap and Michael found it difficult to do anything but give him his full attention. He was going to be okay. He wasn’t going to turn into one of them and he wasn’t going to die. He was going to be just fine, Michael was sure of it.

His second biggest concern was how long he would have Alex screaming in pain looping in his brain or the horrific images of cutting into his leg like it was nothing. He did it as clean as he could with as much precision as he could, but he wasn’t a doctor. Kyle said he did the right thing, but the image of it was going to haunt him for the rest of his life.

“None of this would’ve happened if it weren’t for me,” Isobel said suddenly. Michael almost jumped from the sound of another voice and it was a quick reminder that he wasn’t actually alone. His entire family was standing around them, watching Alex to make sure he was going to pull through and watching Michael to make sure he wasn’t going to lose it.

“It’s not your fault,” Max told her, instantly crossing the space to pull her into a hug. Isobel’s eyes stared over his shoulder though and stayed on Alex. 

“I’m why we were there.”

“He’s going to be okay,” Liz chimed in.

“You think that is okay?” Isobel breathed, gesturing to where Alex laid relatively out of it. He was still breathing, though, and that’s really all that mattered. “He’s never going to walk again and it’s my fault!”

“Isobel,” Kyle said as he reappeared, a bottle of tylenol in his hand. He was eying her like she was a wounded animal, carefully taking steps. Michael almost felt bad that Kyle was having to do so much for all of them. “Isobel, I know you’re upset and I understand and I’m not discounting that, but Alex needs everyone to be calm right now. So please go upstairs and I’ll see you in a minute.”

With a little persuasion from Max, Isobel agreed and went up stairs as quickly as she could. Kyle then asked Max and Liz to go start making dinner because they all needed to eat. Michael combed his fingers through Alex’s hair for the billionth time.

“Hey, do you think we can wake him up enough to get him to take some?” Kyle asked Michael, crouching down in front of the couch. It took him a few seconds to realize he needed to answer.

“Yeah, yeah, I think so,” Michael agreed, tilting his head as he moved his hand to his cheek, “Alex, hey, you awake?”

It took a few tries of calling his name to get him to swing back into consciousness. It was a line he’d been playing jump rope with since Michael first cut into his leg. He’d scream until he passed out from the pain and then he’d be in so much pain that he woke up screaming. The screaming eventually stopped, obviously, but the pain had put him in a slightly drugged-up state that had nothing to do with any kind of substance.

“My head hurts,” Alex said as he came to. Michael couldn’t help but smile, shaking his head as he stroked his cheek with the back of his hand.

“I know, I know,” Michael said back, “But we got some tylenol. Can you take it for me?”

“‘Kay,” Alex breathed. Michael could see him trying to wake himself up more, trying to sit up a little more, so he helped balance him. He was in so much pain and Michael hurt for him, but he did his best to support his head as he tried to get in a position where he could take pills.

It was really a three person effort to get the pills in Alex’s mouth and to chase them with water considering Alex’s hands weren’t steady enough to hold the glass of water and his mind was too bleary to swallow in normal timing. He almost choked twice. Eventually, though, he got them down and Michael helped lower him back to laying his head in his lap.

Kyle and Michael both waited as Alex seemed to fade again.

“Are you going to be okay, Michael?” Kyle asked cautiously. He blinked a couple times but nodded. He was. He’d been through a lot of things and this didn’t even qualify in the top 5 worst things he’d seen. But there was something so worrying about the not knowing. The future was already bleak and unpromised as it was, but now… 

“I’m okay,” Michael said, nodding, “Just worried.”

“I get it. Call for me if you need something,” Kyle said, patting the side of Michael’s leg before he stood up and went to go talk to Isobel.

Michael went back to focusing on Alex. His face was unnaturally pale and he was sweaty, his eyebrows pulled together. Michael smoothed them out and thought maybe he should wash his hands soon. They still had blood on them. He hadn’t noticed that until then.

Suddenly a hand went through Michael’s hair, catching in knots and pulling it back until it hit the couch. Maria was standing above him, her hand still buried in his hair as she gave him a once over. He didn’t say anything and she didn’t seem eager to jump into a conversation either. Instead, she slowly let him go and then gave him his own glass of water. He took it with thanks and nearly downed the whole thing in one go. He hadn’t realized he was thirsty.

“Give me your hands,” she instructed when he was done, dragging the coffee table back into place. He hesitantly gave her his left one, keeping his right on Alex’s chest.

Maria didn’t argue as she sat on the coffee table and took his hand. She used a wet washcloth to scrub the blood from his hand, even bothering to try to clean it from out of the creases of his nails as best as she could. When she was done, his left hand went to Alex’s head and she took his right to clean it in the same way.

“Thank you,” he said. Maria nodded and gave him a small smile.

“We take care of each other, okay? You took all of us in when you weren’t obligated to. So don’t worry. We’re all going to take care of you and Alex until you two can get back to normal,” she promised. Michael stared at her for a moment before he shook his head, swallowing as he looked down to Alex. His mouth was open as if he wasn’t getting enough breath from his nose.

“I don’t need help, we just gotta help Alex. I’m fine,” Michael said. Maria touched his chin though, making him look at her before she took her hand away.

“You weren’t the one who lost a leg, but you’re the one who had to cut into someone you love. I know you well enough to know that you think that isn’t enough to earn the trauma label, but that is traumatic. I don’t care how hardened you are, that’s a horrible thing you had to go through. And we’re here to help you, both of you, okay? So lean on us,” she instructed. Michael reluctantly agreed.

“Okay, I’ll try.”

“Good,” she said, her eyes drifting to Alex. She gave him a smile without any sadness or pity and it was the most positive thing Michael had seen in awhile. “He’s going to be okay. He’s strong. And so are you.”

She left him with a pat on the head as she went into the kitchen to help cook dinner.

He sincerely hoped she was right.

-

“My foot itches.”

Michael was half asleep, but who was he if not obedient when it came to Alex Manes?

It was dark outside and their bedroom was dark, but Michael could see Alex perfectly fine. It’d been three days since the event and Alex was more and more coherent by the hour which was great. They’d made it up the stairs with a little assistance and they got his leg propped up so he could continue resting in a place more comfortable than the couch. Michael was basically glued to his side, trying not to be overbearing as he used Alex’s hand as a pillow. 

“Okay,” Michael hummed, carefully stretching his own leg out to rub it against Alex’s foot in a lame attempt at making it stop itching. 

“No, not that one.”

And that was certainly enough to wake Michael up more. He propped himself up on his elbow to look at Alex who had his face twisted in irritation. And Michael had no idea how to help.

“What do you need me to do?” Michael asked cautiously. Alex let out a frustrated little laugh and he sniffled, squeezing his eyes shut. 

“I don’t know.”

“I’m sorry,” Michael said honestly, “I can scratch other places?”

Alex laughed, a tear slipping out from the corner of his eye. He tilted his head as if that would shield Michael from noticing. It was way too late for him not to notice.

“That won’t really help, will it?”

“No, but I’m trying. Maybe I can go get a cold washcloth or something?” Michael offered. Alex shook his head, sniffling again. “What do you need?”

“I don’t know, Michael, okay? I don’t know,” Alex said, his tone clipped. Michael didn’t take offense to it. He knew it had to be more than a little frustrating to deal with what he was dealing with right then. It wasn’t fair. Alex pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes as his breathing slowly started to become a little more erratic. Michael just scooted closer, hoping to provide some form of a comfort at the very least. “I’m useless now, you know? I won’t be able to help around the house, I won’t be able to go out exploring with you, I’ll only be a deadweight if something happens. If, if we get attacked by those fucking things, I’m dead or I’ll get all of you killed trying to watch over me. You should’ve just let me die. I’m, I’m worse than useless.”

“Okay, no, none of that,” Michael said, pushing himself to his knees and sitting on his legs to look at Alex. He hated seeing him like that, but he hated even more hearing him talk like that. It was the worst thing. “You are not useless. You’re smart and talented and ruthless and loving and‒”

“And I can’t walk! I can’t do anything!” Alex yelled at him. Michael shook his head, gently grabbing his face between his hands.

“Alex, listen to me,” he said, his forehead resting on his as he stared into his teary eyes. Michael tried not to join in on the crying. “You’re right. You can’t walk. Right now. You just lost your leg, you’re still healing. But in a week from now? A month from now? I’ll find you crutches to use, to get around.”

“You’re not listening,” Alex told him, voice cracking, “Even if I have crutches, I’m a liability. You should’ve let me die.”

“Fuck that, you’re not a liability. Do you know how many pirates back in the day were disabled and still badasses? I’ll make you a goddamn leg myself and you’ll be back on your violent bullshit,” Michael insisted. Alex let out a wet laugh, shaking his head.

“What the fuck are you talking about? This isn’t the same as that.”

“So what. You won’t be the same, but who fucking cares? I don’t. You can still be a badass, leg or not. You can still be worth something, leg or not. You’re worth everything to me, okay? So please, please, please stop talking like that. This is the hardest part. Finding hope to keep going is the hardest part. But please. You’re not worthless, you’re not a liability. Well, you are, but we all are. Family is a liability, but I’d rather have a family than be alone, okay? And you’re not fucking alone, Alex. We’ve got your back and we know you have ours. You just need to bear with me as we work through this thing, okay?” he insisted. Alex sniffled and he was clearly not very convinced.

“Okay,” Alex agreed, “Okay.”

And that was a start.

-

Michael kept true to his word.

A week later, when he felt comfortable enough to leave Alex’s side, he and Liz went out to find a set of crutches. They also found other things that might be helpful like moisturizer, special socks, a new sewing kit to use on Alex’s pants, and a book on the history of amputation and prosthetic limbs.

It took a little while, but eventually Alex was able to get around the house without getting lightheaded. He had to eat and drink more than he did before since he was using more energy than they had anticipated. But he was getting around. Michael took over his roles in the field and lugging water from the well while Alex took over the roles Michael had filled beside Isobel and Maria like washing clothes and cooking.

It was a slow process of making Alex feel like he wasn’t a nuisance all over again, one that involved giving multiple talks to Isobel so she would stop treating him like he was helpless out of guilt. But slowly, he began to feel like he was pulling his weight and Michael was thankful for it.

In their down time, Michael studied the book he found and talked to Kyle about what they would need to construct a prosthetic for him. They figured the best way would be to go back to the olden days and model it after a crutch along with a corset that kept it secure to his thigh. It would never be as good as the fancy robotic ones they had before the world went to shit, but it would help him get around easier and, if the worst happened and their farm got invaded, they wouldn’t need to worry that much more than they already would.

That led to months of trial and error. Months of measuring Alex’s leg and building something to match only to find it was either too painful or impractical and trying to decide if it was all of those things because it was new or because it would always be that bad. Months of Alex crying and lapsing back into bad thoughts. Months of frustration from all parties.

Once they found one that didn’t hurt that much, that led to a new hurdle. Who knew how hard it was to learn how to walk? It was agonizing and Alex slept for nearly 12 hours every night, his body drained from the effort that came with learning how to function in a whole new way. But Alex was a fighter and he slowly, slowly got it.

It was seven months after Michael had cut into Alex’s leg when he finally saw that Alex no longer felt helpless. That was a good feeling.

He didn’t wear the prosthetic most of the time because it did still hurt even if not that much. He would put it on for about thirty minutes every day so he didn’t forget how to use it, but then he would go back to only using his crutches. He pulled his weight just like the rest of them and he made it work. They all did. 

Michael came inside after working in the field and heard him laugh loudly for the first time in awhile again and went weak in the knees. He bypassed heading straight for a shower and peeked into the kitchen where Alex was leaning against the counter and peeling potatoes with Liz and Maria. He’d gotten really good at balancing.

“What’s so funny?” Michael asked.

“Oh, nothing,” Alex said, flashing him a kind smile and a wink. Michael felt his cheeks tint a little red and he smiled so wide it hurt. But Alex was gorgeous like this, happy and comfortable. “Are you heading upstairs?”

“Yeah, I was about to go take a shower,” Michael said, looking over at the girls who seemed a little too conspiratorial for his liking.

“Cool, can I come with?” Alex asked, bold and unwavering. Michael’s eyes widened and he looked over at the girls before looking back at Alex and nodding. “I’ll be back down soon.”

Michael couldn’t help it as his mind instantly started wandering. He and Alex hadn’t really had time to really enjoy time with just the two of them. He could count the number of times he’d done more than give Alex a short goodnight kiss in the last eight months on one hand. It made him feel giddy to simply walk up the stairs together.

When they got into their bedroom, Michael gave him a look.

“So, correct me if I’m wrong, but that was an invitation to shower together, right?” Michael said. Alex rolled his eyes and grinned as he sat on the bed, putting his crutches off the side.

“Come here,” he said. Michael obeyed and Alex tugged him down to sit beside him. Michael leaned in close and Alex held his face in his hands, holding him at bay. And he waited for whatever he was about to hear. “I just wanted to tell you that I love you.”

Which is not at all what he was expecting.

“The world is so fucked and this last year has been extra insane, but you’ve been right there by me and I wanted you to know that I love you. I loved you before that happened, but I haven’t been telling you. So thank you for everything and I love you.”

“I love you too,” Michael said, waiting for the but. The way he spoke made it seem like he was about to say something bad right after. “What’s wrong?”

Alex huffed a laugh, eyes widening as he pushed him away.

“What do you mean? I can’t just say I love you?”

“Well, you can, you’re just making it seem like something bigger.”

“Well, there’s nothing bigger,” Alex said, eyeing him as a smile found his face, “Okay, there might be something bigger.”

“Tell me.”

But instead of being told, Alex pulled Michael in for a kiss and he laid back on the bed to pull him even closer. It was all too reminiscent of their first kiss in the truck, desperate and needy and wanting. How had he gone so long without those kisses?

Alex’s hands started to try and tug his shirt up and Michael pulled away.

“Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure,” Alex said, “I feel better than I have in months.”

“I meant more ‘cause I’m really dirty.”

Alex let out a soft laugh and rolled his eyes, only pulling him closer.

“Guess we’ll have to take a pretty creative shower then.”

Michael all but carried him into the bathroom, kissing him still and relearning all the curves of his body and how it fit into his hands. It’d been so long and so goddamn worth it. But, then again, Alex was worth everything under the sun.

This was worth it all.

[oohfluffy]

TIHM Ch.12 | BBH

Group: EXO

Member: Byun Baekhyun

Theme: Angst | Fluff | Rated M | University!AU | Football!AU

Word Count: 2,307

chapter 12

"I'll be back. My friends just texted me, they want to play beer pong. They said they won't be starting with me." 

You let a smile rest on your lips as Hyoseop stood up while waving his hand. You were feeling a bit disappointed that your time together was cut so soon, but you were more than ecstatic that you had an hour spent with him alone. Of course, he would be leaving you for his friends.

You're just an acquaintance anyway.

"Oh, right." You just nodded approvingly, although he didn't really need to ask. You forced the bitter tone back in your throat, back straightening while your sweet sunbae slowly turned back to you. He looked like he didn't want to go downstairs yet, but he needed to. "Uh...your company was really nice, sunbae." You awkwardly said, gaze casting down your feet. 

You really like him.

"I liked your company too, Saejin." Your cheeks flushed at the simple response of your one and only senior crush in this university. Hyoseop rubbed the back of his neck as if he was feeling the same things as you are right now. "I..."

You blinked rapidly as you looked up to him. He was still standing by the table, supposedly on his way down to play beer pong with his friends. Was it sympathy? Or concern? Or maybe, just maybe, he really didn't want to leave?

"It's okay, sunbae. I'd probably go back to my friends as well, and⁠—"

"I want to talk again." He suddenly said, a shy smile forming on his beautiful lips. Your mouth gaped at his statement. "Just like this. I'd love to know you more."

Oh my. Is this happening? Like this is not me dreaming, right? This is real?!

Your lips quivered as you tried forming coherent words, a calm response for this prince. You cannot believe that Ahn Hyoseop, your 3rd year senior crush, just said that he'd love to know you more! He looked away as if he was burned by your intense stare, breaking the ice that formed around you.

"W-Will that be okay?" He asked in a soft voice, his hands creeping down his pockets. He looked so cuddly that you just wanted to hug him at that moment. "I understand if I surprised you, it's just⁠ I thought⁠—"

"I'd love to." You quickly answered, a grin plastered on your face making him smile again. He nodded enthusiastically as if you just said that you'd give him a treat for being a good boy. "If it's sunbae, it's more than okay."

"Okay." Hyoseop said while biting his lip, slowly turning his back on you, but not without taking another glance your way. "I'll see you around, Saejin."

⁠— 

"Uhm, earth to Saejin?!"

You leaned on the chair as you closed your book, looking up to your best friend who has her hands resting on her hips. She has this annoyed expression, and that is not a good sign.

"Were you listening?" Jiwon asked in disbelief, frowning at your indifferent face. "Of course, you're not. Why did I even ask?"

"You said that your boyfriend was coming back from the States 2 months from now after a year of working there, and you'd be spending the winter break at his hometown." You raised your eyebrows at her, making her shoulders relax a bit. "It's fine. I can manage here, and that's like what, 5 months from now."

"Well, just making sure you'd be here safe until I come back." Jiwon shrugged, her lips pouting as she sat in front of you. You took your cup of milk from the table, and sipped on it while looking down at your closed book. "What's up?"

"Hmm?" You looked up at her as you put your cup down. 

"Stop playing dumb. Spill." She crossed her arms over her chest, leaning her back on the dining chair. You sighed defeated, deciding to just tell her what was bugging you these days.

"You know I've been looking forward to my favorite⁠—"

"⁠—pianist, yeah, I know. Why? Have you seen him already? Is he handsome? Do we know him⁠—"

"Stop asking questions, I'm not done yet!" You tsked, rolling your eyes at your best friend's excited squeal. 

"Is this finally your love story, baby Jin?" Jiwon giggled as she leaned her body forward with her eyes wide full of anticipation. 

"I haven't seen him, okay?!" You just chuckled at her, shaking your head. "I almost saw him yesterday, but I don't think I was ready to know him."

"What? That's bullshit, girl. You've been talking about how his music touched your heart for weeks." Jiwon scowled incredulously, not believing what you just said about not being ready. "How are you not ready?"

"I think if I saw him, my image of that pianist would just vanish." You mumbled as you looked at the ceiling, the thought of a certain someone being your adored musician. "I mean, what if I know him in person and saw how he is, and what I have imagined him to be as a pianist were just..." You closed your eyes. "...different?"

"Then just merge them!" Jiwon exclaimed as if it was the most obvious decision for your conflict. You scoffed. "What? It's that easy! You're the one making it harder."

"Forget it." You said, sitting back up straight as you gulp down the rest of your milk. You stood up with the cup and went to the sink. You silently washed it before walking back to the table, getting your book. "I'd be heading to bed early. Goodnight, Jiwon-ah."

You turned back from her and went to your bedroom. You were about to twist your doorknob open when she spoke from the table. Her words were like a light trying to break through the darkness of an enclosed box.

"He might not be that different from what you felt him to be. After all, a musician plays with his heart and soul to be able to produce such beautiful sounds." 

You smiled at her words. It was rare, but Jiwon gives the greatest advice in the most unexpected times. 

"Hmm, you have a point." You mumbled under your breath before going inside your room.

⁠—

You sat on your seat quietly, mentally preparing your brain for the 3-hour lecture that will start in 10 minutes. Taking out your notes, you begin to read the past lessons and refresh your memory. Not even on the half of the first page, you noticed that the room got too quiet. It was new to you as this class was never silent.

Great. Thank goodness, silence is here⁠—

"Saejin-ah." 

Hearing that familiar voice, you felt your skin crawl in surprise. You slowly looked up and prayed that he wasn't who you thought he was⁠—not. Your frown was apparent as you see him brightly smiling at you by the door. Your classmates were just looking at him as if he was the Messiah that went down to their land, it was seriously bothering. 

You furrow your eyebrows at him as if the confusion plastered on your face will ask him what the hell he was doing here. Baekhyun just barged in with his confident strides, eyes gentle as he walked towards your seat, which was in the middle part. You glanced at Irene's group, who were all in one corner and silently murmuring to themselves.

"Morning." Baekhyun greeted as if it was just you and him, just a casual conversation between a loser and a prince. He placed a bar of white chocolate on your desk, which you didn't notice was in his hand earlier. "A little sweetness to keep you awake, bab⁠—"

"What are you doing?" You cut him off with your teeth gritted, eyes kept glancing around you. Those shameless students were watching as if a conversation between two people was a new fucking thing that deserves to be in a museum! "Why are you here?" You kept your voice low as if it will make your words unheard.

"Visiting you? Is that a bad thing?" Baekhyun pouted his lips a bit, hand dropping to your desk to lean forward. You leaned back in reflex, moving your head away from him. "Didn't see you yesterday." 

His hair looks so fluffy, argh. Am I being distracted by a mere bulk of cotton?!

"I didn't have afternoon classes." You answered, feeling flustered to have him this close in front of so many people. "Anyway, I don't need sweets⁠—"

"I missed you." 

You heard gasps around the room, making Baekhyun glare at them. Suddenly, the students had their own businesses to do and turned their backs on you. Baekhyun looked back at you with a grin on his face as he saw you blushing.

"S-Shut it, Byun. Thank you for the chocolate." You looked away, trying to catch your breath while calming your loud beating heart. "Y-You can go now. The prof will be here in a few."

Baekhyun bit his lip as he stared at your restless eyes, making him chuckle. He wanted to kiss you right now. You're too cute for him to handle. You appear to be so brave, but you're just a softie inside. He knows that.

He leaned back, standing straight as he nodded. He looked around the room again, making his presence a reminder that you were his. That he is behind your back, and no one should mess with you. You looked at the expensive-looking chocolate on your desk, making you guilty of shredding that wrapper⁠—

Who said you'll eat it?! Just give it to Jiwon! You don't need something from this playboy, Saejin!

"Okay, I'll go now." Baekhyun smiled as he saw you frowning at the chocolate he gave you. You look like you were arguing with it or something. "Just eat it, Saejin. Stare at it any longer, it will melt." He chuckled, making you glare at him. "I know something that will go hard when you stare at it longer though. Wanna see?"

"Get out , Baekhyun." You almost cursed him, kicking at his feet. Baekhyun laughed, managing to move away before you could kick him. 

"See you later, baby!"

When he finally left the room, you felt like you could breathe again. He's crazy! Why would he make everyone know he was interested in you?! Was he trying to kill you?! You quickly took the bar of chocolate inside your bag as the professor entered the room. Your classmates didn't openly talk about what happened, but you're certain they were spreading the news at this moment.

"That jerk." You whispered as you looked up at the projector.

When the bell rang at exactly 4 o'clock, you picked your things up and headed to the professor for consultation about the upcoming project. Half of the class was already gone, and only some of the students who were discussing stayed. 

"Are you sure you want to do it alone? You can pair up with someone or two⁠." Mr. Lee tried to persuade you to have a helping hand on the project, but you knew no one would dare to. You'd been doing most of your requirements alone these past few years, unless it was really mandatory to have a group. "I know you can manage well, but it would be easier, Ms. Lee."

You smiled at his concern as you gently shook your head. "I'll be fine. I can just ask you when it gets hard, sir."

Mr. Lee is a kind professor, whom you can comfortably talk to about things. You appreciate that he always listens, and tells you what to do whenever you drift to the darkness. Most of his students aren't as respectful as you, that's why he likes you as his student. 

"Well, I cannot change your mind this time as well, huh?" He sighed with a smile on his face. He grabbed his briefcase, patting your arm as he walked past you. "If that's what makes you feel at ease, do it. I'd be cheering you on as always."

"Thank you, Mr. Lee." You smiled as he waved at you. When he got out, you grabbed your backpack and quickly went out to catch the bus. 

You walked briskly at the corridors, receiving weird looks around you. You are getting used to hurrying that you can feel the excitement in your system. You begin to look forward to your work because of the nice people you've met, and the nice environment your work offers. 

Will I be able to catch the bus though? It's quarter to 5.

Trying to speed up your walk, you almost ran until you got to the corner⁠—

"Shit." An irritated voice exclaimed as you bumped onto a person. "Don't you have eyes, bitch?"

You looked up with a wince as you saw a tall girl with her straight brown hair in a high ponytail. Her eyebrows were raised as if criticizing you at the moment. You met her eyes, which flashed recognition, and you bowed a bit.

"I'm sorry, I'm in a hurry." You apologized, bowing several times before walking around her. You almost cursed as you just bumped into another person, whom you didn't even notice at first glance. You looked up and saw there were three other girls behind the girl you first bumped into. They were obviously glaring at you as if you just committed a crime.

"Isn't it the favored one?" The first girl smirked, taking a step towards you. The other three surrounded you as if you were a caught animal. "Perfect timing. Let's have a little talk, small one. Take her."

You grunted as your arms were grabbed on both sides, dragging you to somewhere with a lesser crowd.

At that moment, you knew you were not going to be freed easily.

—

Fluffy’s note: Hi, hi! So, we’ve caught up with the current chapter that I have in store, so I won’t be posting every day now. I’ll be writing the next chapters, maybe I’ll start later, so if you want to be tagged for the updates, go to my TIHM Updates post and like it to be listed. Love y’all lots! ❤️  Link: https://oohfluffy.tumblr.com/post/615353434122616832/tihm-updates

—

♫ Ch.13

[zackcollins]

like a train through a house of glass ch. 6 || carter hart

 chapter 1 || chapter 2 || chapter 3 || chapter 4 || chapter 5

Author’s Note: Here’s chapter 6! I left my parents' house last night which is where I had written all the other chapters of this. So, I got a little behind in this chapter. I know you might think that’s absurd because I’ve posted a chapter every day since I’ve started writing it but I feel like I slacked off a little and could’ve had this posted a little sooner than now. Anyway... I hope you enjoy this chapter all the same! GIF credit to the original creator!!

Warnings: The only thing I can think of is a few swear words. If there’s something I missed, feel free to let me know and I’ll add it!

Word Count: 3.3k

Title: Crash by Chad Brownlee

Additional: The language is still ambiguous. I still intend to keep the promise I made to make it gender-neutral throughout the entirety of the story. Speaking of that. I’m aiming to have chapter 7 be the final chapter. So, probably only expect one more chapter after this one... and maybe an epilogue. It just depends if I can wrap up the story nicely in chapter 7.

The smell of bacon frying woke you up. You felt your mouth salivating as you managed to prop yourself against the headboard. When you were comfortable, you wrapped the blanket around your chest because you wanted to protect the bareness of it from the cool air of the air conditioner. 

Your pants felt disgusting from what had transpired earlier and you knew you would have to change soon. Getting a diaper rash infection wasn’t something you needed, no matter how much you couldn’t feel it. Carter did enough for you as it was. Having him care for infection wasn’t something he deserved.

“Morning, sleepyhead.” Carter appeared in the doorway. He was smiling and holding a tray of food. “I brought you some breakfast in bed.”

Walking across the room, he placed the tray in front of you on the bed. You smiled, brushing your fingers together as you grabbed the fork from him. 

“Thanks, honey,” you said, scooping some eggs into the fork. You shovelled them into your mouth, making a satisfying noise when you swallowed them. “These are amazing. What did you cook then with?”

“Butter, garlic, parsley, and chives,” Carter replied, sitting at your feet. He reached for a piece of your bacon; you quickly poked his fingers with your fork. Carter looked at you in mock pain, rubbing his fingers. “I’m wounded, (Y/N). Can’t a guy have a piece of his partner’s bacon?”

You raised an eyebrow and smirked. “If you wanted bacon, you should’ve made your own.” Even as you said that you broke a piece of bacon in half and handed Carter some. 

Smiling, Carter ate the bacon. “I’ll give you a shower when you’re done; I know you need to change out of your disgusting pants.”

You scooped more eggs into your mouth, took a bite of your toast, and a sip of your orange juice. “Alright. That would be helpful.” You coughed, an air bubble having gotten stuck in your throat from the orange juice. 

Carter squeezed your ankle and stood from the bed. “I’ll go get some clo—“ he stopped when he noticed the expression on your face. He cast his glance to your ankle and then to his hand. When you nodded, he fell back into the bed.

“This is really happening,” you said, looking hopefully at Carter. 

All Carter could do was sheepishly nod and rub your ankle. You jolted a little, knocking your orange juice all over the tray. 

“Sorry… your hands were cold.” 

All Carter could do was smile sympathetically as he made his way to the bathroom for a hand towel. When he returned, some of the orange juice had spilled onto the blanket. Making haste, Carter wiped up the spill before it could get worse. 

You smiled at Carter as you continued to eat your breakfast. When you were done eating, Carter took the tray and disappeared out of the room. While he was gone, you squirmed your upper half a little because the orange juice had seeped through the blanket and dampened your chest. It was starting to dry and it was sticky, a feeling you never enjoyed. 

When Carter re-entered the room, he saw your chest shifting uncomfortably. He raised his eyebrow as he walked over to you. You pulled the blanket down, grabbing his hand and placing it on the sticky patch on your chest. Carter recoiled his hand, touching his fingers together to try to get rid of the stickiness. 

“Here, let's get you undressed and ready for the shower,” Carter said. You nodded.

Carter unzipped your jeans. You heard the sympathetic sigh he gave at the scene he saw in your pants. “Jesus. That had to be uncomfortable.”

“I still can’t really feel anything down there,” you sighed, rubbing a hand through your hair. 

Inhaling a sharp breath, Carter wiggled your pants down your legs. “Right. I guess I forgot you aren’t at 100% capacity yet.” He threw your jeans across the room once they were off your legs. He quickly slid your underwear off, leaving you sitting there naked. He smiled softly at you. “Ready?”

You nodded, reaching your arms for Carter’s neck. When you were in his arms, you managed to slide your arms around his neck for support. Carter grunted at the force it required to carry you to the bathroom but he managed to make it easier. He carefully placed you in your shower seat. He stripped out of his clothes before he turned on the water.

“Motherfucking shit,” you hissed. Carter looked at you a little confused. “It’s cold… really fucking cold.”

Carter put his hand under the spray of water, immediately withdrawing it and shaking it off. “Fuck… you’re right.” He mumbled. He fiddled with the taps until he heard you groan pleasantly. 

“Much better.”

A soft expression passed Carter’s face as he grabbed the body wash. He lathered you with it, making sure to be thorough. You were tingling with sensation by the time Carter was done; partially from the water temperature and partially from the pressure Carter had applied. 

As Carter rinsed the body wash off, you leaned your head against his chest. Carter rubbed his hand along your back as he washed the body wash off, though he let it linger longer than was strictly necessary. 

By the time Carr was done with the body wash, you felt cleaner than you had in years. You mumbled gibberish Ed against Carter’s chest, completely unsure what coherent thought you had been trying to form. Carter chuckled, placing a kiss to the top of your head. 

“It’s time to wash your hair,” he said. “Do you want the strawberry or the blueberry scented hair products today?”

“Blueberry.” Your response was muffled by Carter’s chest and the drumming of the water against the shower tile. 

Carter sat you up, holding you with his left arm while he grabbed the blueberry shampoo with his right hand. You made a soft sound of appreciation when Carter popped the lid open and the resonating scent of blueberries filled the shower.

“Smells nice,” you said, smiling softly.

Carter squirted some into his hand, placing the bottle back on the shelf. He kissed your temple before lathering the shampoo through your hair. As Carter massaged your hair and scalp, you hummed. It felt nice to have someone rub your head; you had been carrying a lot of tension there recently because it didn’t really have anywhere else to go. 

A moment later, water cascaded down your face. You made a pleased noise at how warm it still was. 

“I don’t think we need conditioner today,” Carter said as he twisted the taps into the off position.

When he swung the door to the shower open, you shivered and curled your head and neck in on yourself. Carter noticed and wrapped you in a hug. He held you for a moment, warming you up. You felt the desired effect after a few moments. With a soft hair ruffling, Carter lifted you out of the shower and into the bathroom itself. 

He placed you into your stool, quickly grabbing a towel to dry you off. You hummed and squirmed a little when Carter wiped your armpits; you had always been sensitive there.

“Sit still for a minute,” Carter said, dropping the towel onto the floor at your feet. “I need to go grab you some clean clothes.”

You nodded, stretching your arms above your head. There was something out of place in your upper back and you wanted it to go back where it belonged. As Carter walked away, you felt whatever it was shift around. It didn’t make a satisfying pop like Carter’s back had yesterday but the sensation you received was well worth the effort you put in. 

When Carter returned a few moments later, he placed the clothes on the counter. He dried your hair a little more before carefully helping you into each piece of clothing. When you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, you saw yourself in your favourite pair of jeans and a Flyers shirt with Carter’s number on it. 

Carter took the towel and dried himself off before he carried you into the bedroom. He gently placed you on the bed, leaning you against the headboard. He kissed you firmly to which you responded by snaking your arm around his neck and holding him in place.

“I gotta get dressed, (Y/N),” Carter mumbled against your lips. “We have to go to Dr. Owen’s office soon.”

You allowed Carter to pull back much to your discontent. Carter softly kissed the top of your nose before he went about finding himself some clothes. It was only a few minutes before Carter was dressed and back at the bed beside you. 

He sat at your feet, swirling a finger around your ankle bone. You smiled down at him, eyes full of hope.

“I really hope Dr. Owen can offer us some options for what to do next,” you said, eyes meeting Carter’s.

Carter nodded, standing. “I would like that too.” He scooped you out of the bed and walked you across the room to your wheelchair. Gracefully placing you in it, he gave you a chaste kiss. “If she can’t, just know I’ll love you no matter what.” You nodded, squeezing Carter’s elbow. He squeezed your arm in turn, smiling fondly. 

By the time you were ready to go, Carter had about 25 minutes to spare for transportation to Dr. Owen’s office. Luckily for you, Carter was known to drive like a bat out of Hell when he needed to; you made it to the office with 3 minutes to spare.

In the waiting room, Carter was calmingly rubbing your wrists. You would be lying if you said you weren’t nervous; Carter rubbing your wrists was helping relieve your nervousness a little but you were still tense.

“(Y/N)?” A nurse walked into the waiting room holding a clipboard. “Dr. Owen is ready to see you now.”

Carter stood from the seat, grabbing your wheelchair handles. You cast him a thankful glance. Your hands were too shaky from your nerves to properly push yourself right now. As Carter wheeled you through the halls of the office, you focused your attention on the artwork on the walls, on the way the hardwood rippled, on anything that wasn’t how nervous you were feeling.

“Ah, (Y/N),” Dr. Owen, said, jolting you out of your thoughts. You hadn’t been aware you had made it to her office. “One of your friends called me yesterday and said you would like an appointment as soon as possible because there have been some developments with your injury. Is that right?”

You nodded as Carter parked your wheelchair in front of her desk, locking the wheels. He sat in the chair beside you, grabbing your hand and squeezing. You looked at him nervously; talking to doctors had never been your strong suit.

“Yes, that’s right,” Carter spoke up, rubbing along your wrist bone to keep you calm. You squeezed his hand to thank him.

“What are these developments Mrs. Giroux mentioned? She was rather vague on the phone and said it would be best if I talked to you directly,” Dr. Owen said, pulling your file from her filing cabinet.

You swallowed, nervously looking at Dr. Owen. Her wrinkles softened as she looked at you; that made you feel a little less anxious. It made you feel like she actually cared about you as a patient instead of just about you as a diagnosis.

“I started gaining some feeling back in my lower half,” you said, smiling awkwardly.

Dr. Owen hummed, writing something in your file. “What exactly have you been feeling and where have you been feeling it?” She dropped her pen and looked at you softly.

“Some general tingling and responsive feelings when people touch me,” you replied. “Mostly in my abdomen and back but I felt a couple of things in my legs and feet.” You motioned to your stomach. “It’s mostly been in this area.”

Nodding, Dr. Owen picked up her pen and wrote some more things down in your file. She looked at Carter, pointing the pen toward him. “You’ve been keeping an eye on your partner as often as you can, I presume?”

Carter nodded. “I’m mostly with (Y/N) when I’m not doing my hockey stuff. When I am doing hockey stuff, Ryanne--er, Mrs. Giroux--usually sits with (Y/N) at the arena. The few times I’ve been out of town for a game, (Y/N) has managed really well. Isn’t that right, babe?” Carter squeezed your hand, looking at you fondly.

You hummed, nodding. “Yes. It was hard the first time he was gone. I had to call Mrs. Giroux over to help me but I figured everything out by the second time.” You brought Carter’s hand up, kissing it gently. Carter smiled, squeezing your knee with his other hand.

You blinked down at your knee before looking at Carter and then to Dr. Owen. Dr. Owen stopped writing and looked at you with a raised eyebrow. “Is everything alright, (Y/N)?”

“I felt it when he squeezed my knee.”

Dr. Owen dropped her pencil and grabbed her reflex hammer. She made her way around her desk and knelt in front of you. She looked up at you. “I’m going to tap you with this; let me know if you can feel it.” You nodded.

She gently tapped a few spots on each leg. You indicated to her that you felt it each time but only barely. Dr. Owen smiled, walking back to her desk to write some notes in your file. She glanced between you and Carter and smiled again when she saw the fond look on both of your faces.

Carter leaned over and placed a soft kiss on your lips. You melted into it, feeling some of your stress wash away. You gently kissed back, almost forgetting you were in Dr. Owen’s office. She awkwardly cleared her throat, making you jump. You rubbed the back of your neck; Carter only chuckled, squeezing your hand lovingly.

“I remember being your age and deeply in love with my then-girlfriend,” she smiled, twirling her wedding ring between her fingers. “We’ve been together for 30 years, married for as long as it’s been legal, have 3 children, and 2 grandchildren.” She grabbed a picture frame that was sitting on her desk, flipping it around to show you and Carter. “She’s an orthopedic surgeon at the hospital. If all goes well for you, I may refer you to her to have some of the shrapnel removed.”

You noticed a longing look on Carter’s face as he looked at the picture of Dr. Owen’s wife. You weren’t sure what that meant but you would have to store it away for later. 

“For right now, I’m going to refer you to a physiotherapist to see if they can help you regain a little more feeling,” Dr. Owen said, placing the picture frame back where it belonged. She wrote something down in your file before handing you a business card. “I’ll send the referral in as soon as I’m done here. They should call you within a week to make the appointment. They’ll determine when you should come to see me again.”

Smiling and nodding, you and Carter thanked Dr. Owen before you left her office. As you were leaving, your stomach growled. Carter smiled, ruffling your hair.

“Luckily for you, I planned ahead for you being hungry,” he said. “I made reservations at your favourite restaurant while you were still sleeping this morning.”

You felt a warm sensation pool in your stomach. A genuine smile broke out across your face as you grabbed Carter’s hand and interlocked your fingers. Carter smiled fondly as he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your scalp. You hummed, smiling happily at Carter.

“I love you, you know?” You said.

Carter made a pleasant sound as he ruffled your hair again. You swatted his hand but all Carter did was chuckle.

“I love you too, (Y/N). Nothing will change that,” Carter replied, squeezing your shoulder. 

You felt a warmth spread across your body and a fondness grow in your heart. Carter truly meant the world to you and moments like this made you appreciate him a million times more.

Once you reached the car, Carter carefully lifted you inside before bringing your wheelchair to the trunk. As you did the day before, you competed to see who could sing the goofiest version of the song on the radio. Carter was the one that admitted defeat this time, graciously giving you a kiss once you arrived at the restaurant. 

When you were at your table, you noticed that it was eerily quiet for lunchtime on a Friday. You glanced at Carter, wondering if he knew more than he was letting on. All he did was smile softly and pick the menu up to scan it. Shaking your head dismissively, you grabbed your own menu to scan for what you would eat for lunch. Once you had decided, you placed the menu down in front of you.

Looking over at Carter, you froze. He was holding a red rose that he had seemingly pulled out of his backside. 

“Carter, where did—“ you stopped when Carter handed you the flower. You sniffed it, humming softly at how pleasant it smelled.

Focusing your attention back to Carter, you froze again. He was holding a ring box.

“Carter…” your voice snagged in your throat. You felt tears starting to prickle the corners of your eyes. You placed the rose on the table before wiping your eyes with your shirt sleeve.

“I don’t have much to say,” Carter said, opening the ring box. “There isn’t too much to say. You’re already everything I could ask for. You make me happy. You make me smile. Being with you is amazing. The guys love you. My parents love you. Will you marry me?”

You nodded, thrusting your hand toward Carter. He smiled, wiping away some tears that had formed on his face. He carefully slipped the ring on your finger before kissing your hand.

A moment later, “Crash” started playing over the restaurant’s speaker system. You blinked at Carter before smiling softly. 

“You planned this.” You playfully swatted Carter’s wrist. “No way in hell the restaurant plays that song right after you proposed if you didn’t plan this.”

Carter raised his hands in surrender, chuckling the entire time. “Guilty as charged. It’s been about three weeks in the making. I just sped it along a little.” Carter walked around the table and softly kissed you. You smiled, kissing back.

“Congrats, you two,” a familiar voice said. 

You turned your attention to your left, noticing Claude standing there. Looking at Carter, you noticed that he had a little bit of a pink tint to his face.

“I told him I was proposing today and he wanted to be here,” Carter said, rubbing the back of his neck.

Claude came over, sitting in the chair beside you. Carter sat back in his seat, looking sheepishly at Claude. Smiling, Claude grabbed one of your hands and one of Carter’s hands. 

“There was a good reason that I wanted to be here,” Claude said, rubbing yours and Carter’s wrists. 

Carter raised an eyebrow questioningly. You stared blankly before remembering what Shayne and Brian said yesterday. 

Claude took one of his hands away and grabbed an envelope from his pocket. He handed it to Carter and smiled.

“As the captain of your team, I’d like to formally present you with this,” he smiled.

“What is it?” Carter asked, tilting his head and the envelope.

Claude squeezed your hand, smiling heartily. 

“A cheque to completely pay for your wedding.”

[strawberriestyles]

Part 5: Ghost Grave

(BANNER BY THE GODDESS HERSELF @adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy​)

Harry X Reader (AU)

In which you try to resolve the case of a fraternity’s haunting in a single night.

Read previous parts here.

Word count: 2.6k

Author’s note: Here’s the end!! I think it’s probably the most satisfying conclusion I’ve written to date but you let me know lolol. Please enjoy!

There’s no way to tell how long you’ve been sitting here, dirt caking your hands and staining your fingernails. It could be minutes or hours. The pain in your leg is still thick and pulsing but you have yet to look past your skirt, terrified that you might find bone protruding from flesh. Instead, you sob with your eyes directed toward the concrete ceiling.

The fallen flashlight rests just beside one of your hands, beam illuminating the body which lays crumpled mere feet from you in this pit, this unmarked grave. It is only visible in your periphery.

Your thoughts have slowed, stalled, unable to venture any further back than the memory of your fall. But now your mind races to catch up, to connect the string of individual memories into something coherent. Of course you drew a solid conclusion at the very moment you first saw the skeleton in this room, but you have only now been able to process the truth of your situation.

Harry’s name leaves your lips before you’ve fully formed the idea of him. But nothing answers, only the very distant thump of music. You could almost convince yourself that the bass is all in your head.

“Harry,” you whisper again. The light beside you flickers and you can finally force yourself to lower your gaze, but still you see nothing new. “Please."

“Y/N, I didn’ know.”

The voice is so sudden and strange and close that you shift away from it. Your leg screams in protest and you let out a breathy shriek.

“Don’ move.”

You turn your head in the direction of the words, which sound garbled and thin, nothing more than a movement of air. Harry stands there beside you in the pit, his eyes unblinking and his body stock-still. But neither of these visuals is what unnerves you. It’s the transparency of him, the wispy form through which you can see the very solid skeleton—the very empty shell of what he once was.

You stare through him, see through him, and neither of you speaks for some time.

“Harry, when did you die?” Your voice is hoarse, thick, more real than anything else that surrounds you, or so it feels. Your eyes focus on the blurred outline of him and he stares back at you.

“Halloween of 1986.” He bends down as he speaks until his face is mere inches from yours. This close, you can see dirt smeared along his cheek. He looks just how you remember seeing him throughout the rest of the house, just dirtier and…less. “What year is it?”

“2019.”

There’s a sound like a shocked sigh and you can feel air pass over the edges of your face. It makes you shiver, and suddenly the cold that you’ve felt at random points throughout the night intensifies. Your arms curl around your abdomen. Your stomach is churning. This man in front of you, this ghost, is almost boyish in his confusion. And you are cold to the very center of your being.

“Why did you bring me down here? To find you?”

He shakes his head quickly. “No. I didn’ know. I thought—” He cuts himself off and shakes his head once more. “I didn’ remember any of it. Not until we got in here. Not until I saw my body—or my bones, I guess.” He scoffs. "Love, I didn’ know I was dead.”

You feel like you really could be sick. You almost wish he’d led you here purposely. This way is so much more tragic.

“What happened?”

Harry sighs. “No one was home and I was about to leave for a party. I just—I came downstairs because the power went out and then I found that space in the wall and…I fell. The same way you did."

You try to picture Harry—this man that you’ve known for only a single night but who feels so familiar already—stumbling through the dark alone, falling and suffering here where you currently sit. The fear and pain and loneliness he must have felt. “How long were you here for?”

“I died right away. Must’ve hit my head. Or broken my neck. One or the other.”

It’s a relief, somehow. You ache to touch him, to comfort him or yourself, you’re unsure.

“What even is this place?”

“I dunno. And I doubt the landlord actually knows it’s here. He would’ve said somethin’. Would’ve at least checked when I went missin’.” Harry sighs. “Y/N, ‘m sorry.”

“What?”

“I didn’ mean to drop yeh. ’S just—I was holdin’ on to yeh one second and then I couldn’ hold on to anythin’.”

“How does that even work? You’ve been touching me all night. I—“ Blood rushes to your face as you remember the time you spent in his bedroom. Well, what was once his bedroom. And the hoodie you’ve stolen from a closet that no longer belongs to him. “I could feel you touching me.”

“Could yeh?”

“Yes, I—”

Suddenly, you’re not so sure. Could it all have been in your head? Surely not. No, even when you weren’t looking, he pulled you away from the falling attic ladder and tweaked your shoulder. He broke the rungs of a ladder all on his own. He was solid beneath your fingers, if only a little slippery. It just doesn’t seem possible when he’s here in front of you in a flickering form. You reach your hand forward and it slides through him with little more than a chill. He blinks slowly.

“Can you feel that?”

“Yes,” Harry answers, shifting toward you like he’s chasing your touch.

Perhaps it wasn’t all in your head, but maybe it was a joint effort. A manifestation of your imagination and Harry’s obliviousness to his own death. After all, he only faded after he’d seen his empty body.

“Yeh need to get out of here, love. Can tell yeh’re tryin’ not to look at it, but your leg isn’t in great shape. No one’s gonna find yeh down here. And I don’ think they’ll be able to hear you either.”

He’s right, you’re sure. But the mere thought of trying to get up makes your head spin. Pain still lances needle-sharp through your leg, up from your ankle to your kneecap and back down.

“I don’t think I can.”

“Yeh have to. Now, get up.”

Harry stands again. He watches you expectantly, and despite your reluctance, you press your back into the wall of the pit. The edge from which you fell is above you but it looks incredibly far away. You close your eyes and hold your breath as you press upward. Although you put all of your weight on your good leg, you have to grit your teeth against the jolting agony of your injured limb as your heel drags across the ground. It’s close to unbearable, but you power through. When you’re upright, you tilt your head back and your heart plummets.

“I can’t reach that,” you whisper.

“You need to try,” Harry insists.

With a huff, you spin yourself around. The force of your movement twists your leg so roughly that you cry aloud. Harry is at your side, his hands extended toward you but missing the pressure that his touch should carry. His face is drawn and creased, so human, so life-like. And you reach your fingers up the wall and there are still too many feet between you and the lip of that floor.

“Are yeh okay?”

“No.” You let out a pathetic sob, lower your hands, and lean your forehead to rest against the back of one. Tears leak down your cheeks and leave your face feeling stiff and sticky. “Harry, I need you to help me.”

“How?”

“I’m not gonna be able to pull myself out of here.”

Harry shakes his head. “I can’ lift yeh. I can’ even touch yeh.”

“I know, I know. I need you to tell someone I’m down here.”

“Y/N.” Harry tilts his head like he pities you. That’s not right. He’s the dead one. You’re still alive. You still have a chance, but it depends on him. “No one else can see me.”

“What?”

“I felt like I was drawn to you when yeh got here tonight. Like—like yeh were open somehow. And I didn’ know why, but I guess we know now.”

“Please, Harry. I need you to try.”

“Love, I was just up there tryin’. The whole time yeh’ve been sittin’ here. I was upstairs and I couldn’ get a single person to acknowledge me.”

Your head spins all over again and you sink down to the ground, screaming as you jostle your bad leg. Your eyes finally catch sight of your injury and although there’s no visible bone, the limb is angled strangely. The contents of your stomach threaten to empty but you swallow against rising bile. You yell for help as an overwhelming anxiety, a helplessness overtakes you.

“I’m going to die down here with you,” you choke out between sobs. Harry only watches from above, his lips pressed tightly together, eyebrows drawn low. He waits until you’ve cried yourself out, until you’ve calmed yourself back to the silent, contemplative state you sat in while he was upstairs. Then he crouches down in front of you.

“Yeh’re not gonna die, love. We’re gonna figure somethin’ out, okay? Yeh’re gonna be fine.”

You look into his softened face, contrasted by the determined look in his eyes and the set of his jaw, and you can almost believe him. But the hopelessness of your predicament is overpowering. You let your head rest back against the wall.

“Stop it.” Harry’s hand slides up your wrist, and it shocks you like a bit of static before the sensation fades into nothing again. “I can’ touch yeh and I can’ talk to anyone else, but there’s gotta be somethin’ I can do to help. Think, love. Yeh’re smart enough for this.”

Your cheek lolls onto your shoulder. You let his determination stir your own and you begin to think back through the events of the night. All of the times you felt cold or uncomfortable, the slamming attic door. The darkness of that attic and this basement. The complete loss of power not once but twice tonight, and the flickering of the flashlight bulb when Harry reappeared here beside you.

“The electricity.”

“What?”

You stare down at the light and nod. “You need to short the power again.”

“What?”

“Harry, it’s been you all night. You’re the ghost who’s been causing the power outages. You just need to do it once more so that someone comes downstairs.”

He shakes his head regretfully. “I didn’ do any of that on purpose. It just happened. I didn’ even think it was me doin’ it, love.”

“Well, you know now, and I need you to try. Really hard. Please, Harry.”

He’s frowning, but there’s a look of desperation on his face that you’re sure mirrors your own.

“Please,” you whisper again.

Harry closes his eyes, sighing, threading his fingers together. His face screws up like he’s trying to concentrate, but it’s only a few seconds before he mumbles, “I have no clue what ‘m supposed to be doin’.”

Your head tips forward and you grunt as a muscle in your broken leg twitches.

“Okay, okay,” Harry says as your fist at your hair. He closes his eyes again and this time he stills completely, He stops breathing the air he doesn’t need and ceases the disconcerting flickering at the edges of his form. The flashlight shorts for a quick moment before blinking back to life. Then you’re immersed in darkness again. Your head spins, thoughts circling down a drain, and you hear your name in Harry’s garbled voice before you lose consciousness.

***

When you awake, you can hear voices, distant and urgent and muffled. Dead, you think. I’m dead. An entire army of earth-bound ghosts is parading around you and you’re dead.

“Y/N, you awake?”

When your eyes open, it’s dark as night. There is no flashlight, but you can feel a presence by your shoulder. And then a touch, soft, but very real.

“Harry?”

“Yeah, ’s me.”

“I’m dead.” It’s not a question. If you can feel him, you must be, and somehow the thought doesn’t make you as upset as you thought it might.

He chuckles. “After all that work? No, yeh’re not dead, love.”

“What?”

“There are paramedics here. They’re tryin’ to figure out how to get yeh outta here because your leg is broken. And the bigger guys can’ fit through the gap but the women wouldn’ be able to lift yeh out alone.”

Your mind spins and Harry’s knuckles brush at your cheek. “How are you doing that?”

“I dunno. Just want to really bad. Tha’s how I got the power out. Think it was me that made yeh pass out though, love. ‘M sorry. Was like I needed more energy and yeh just kinda…gave it to me.”

“So, someone came downstairs?”

“Yeah.” You can hear the smile in Harry’s voice. And the sound is so strong, like he was never a diminished version of himself. “And then I threw the flashlight at him.”

“You what?”

“Well, yeh weren’ conscious, and I wasn’ about to just let him turn the power on and go back upstairs. So, I flung it at the little gap and it rolled into the other room. He couldn’ fit in here, but he called the police.”

“Harry,” you begin, shifting toward him. Your leg twists and you let out a guttural scream.

“Hello?” someone shouts from the main basement. “Miss, we’re coming to get you!”

“Look, we don’ have a lot of time before they get in here and if yeh’re just talkin’ to open air, they’re gonna think yeh’ve gone mad.”

“Or that I’m in shock,” you argue.

“Yeh probably are.”

“Shut up.”

Harry’s fingers whisper along your jaw once more before his touch falls away. “Thank you,” he says.

“For what?”

“For finding my body.”

“I didn’t—”

“You did, even if you didn’t mean to, even I didn’t mean for you too.” He sighs, and it sounds exaggerated, especially when you realize that he doesn’t need the air that he's moving. “Will you tell my family?”

There’s a thick silence that falls between you, and in it, you hold your breath. “Tell them what?”

“That I didn’ just run away. That I wasn’ murdered. That I didn’ suffer. They probably have no idea what happened to me. Maybe they didn’ even have a funeral. I dunno. Maybe they’ve all died, but I feel like I would know, right?”

You swallow, though your throat’s dry. Harry lays a palm over the back of your hand.

“Please? Just let them know?”

“Of course I will, Harry.”

Then his lips are pressed to your forehead, light and feathery as cotton, and you can feel him smile against your skin. “Oh,” he mumbles, “and I think yeh’ll do just fine as a paranormal investigator, love. Think yeh picked the right major after all.”

When he pulls away, you can feel him stand up, feel him drifting, somehow. “You’re leaving,” you observe, and your voice is more desperate than you expected. “Where are you going?"

There’s shuffling in the crevice that leads to this place as first responders attempt to reach you. Metal scrapes against the concrete walls and people in the basement are still shouting at each other. But you can hear Harry’s voice over all of the din as he says, “The only place I can go. On.” And then he’s gone.

The End

[sweetness47]

The Bodyguard

Pairing Alpha!Dean x Omega!reader

This is for the following:

@spndeanbingo – fake dating

@spnabobingo – Alpha for hire

@spnkinkbingo – clothes sharing

@spngenrebingo – playing pretend

FINAL WORD COUNT: 5708

Warnings: MATURE 18+ READERS ONLY!!! Smut, knotting, heat, rut, ABO, mentions of arranged marriage, mob themes, dark themes etc… POSSIBLE TRIGGERS!!!

Summary: You have become a bargaining chip, and your Uncle expects you to arrive at the intended destination ASAP on your own, ‘intact’.

YN swallowed hard as she stood at the entrance of the tall building, wondering if she was doing the right thing. People travel alone all the time, right? Except most of them probably weren’t allergic to suppressants like she was. Without the safety of her home, she was pretty much doomed. And even though her heat was due soon, she wasn’t being given a choice in this trip, she had to travel across the continent just to marry some stranger, and saying no wasn’t an option. If she backed out or didn’t arrive on time, or if she wasn’t still a virgin when she arrived, then her younger sister would be sold to whoever she was supposed to wed, and YN would never let that happen.

She entered the building and walked to the elevator, pushed the button marked with 16, and waited. She’d heard of people hiring Alphas for lots of things, but not as a travel companion. Rumors were this one was the best, strong and more than qualified to handle any situation. She hoped he would accept the money she’d saved up, because it was all she had.

The office was easy to find, and the door said, “Come in”, so she did. YN gave a whistle of appreciation as she was greeted with bright yellow walls contrasted with rich mahogany flooring. Tasteful art pieces placed subtly here and there accented the cream colored sofa and the equally stunning mahogany desk. No one currently seemed to occupy said desk, or the office for that matter, which left YN wondering if she had gotten the office hours wrong, until she heard the whoosh of water behind the closed door on her right. She turned to see a tall man with sandy blonde hair exit the washroom, and heat crept up her face, staining her cheeks bright crimson. He stopped when he saw her blush and look downward to the floor.

“I’m sorry for just walking in,” she said.

“Don’t be. The sign does say ‘come in’. My name’s Dean,” he said, extending his hand to hers.

“YN.” She took the hand he offered. His grip was warm and strong, and his smile made her heart flip. She pushed the thought away, mentally scolding herself for the images that popped up in her mind.

Dean motioned for her to sit, then he joined her. “So, what brings a young, beautiful Omega such as yourself to my office?”

YN felt her cheeks grow warm once more. “I need an escort, well, more specifically, I need an alpha to protect me while I travel across the country. It’s a long, dangerous trip by train, and I don’t have suppressants.”

Dean raised a brow. “No suppressants?”

“I’m allergic to them. I’ve tried all different kinds, but never found one that didn’t give me hives or worse. My mother finally had to arrange with my school to keep me locked in a room for my heats. I need you to stay near me at all times, lend me your clothes, your scent, and your strength.”

Dean nodded in understanding. “Your heat is going to come on the trip.” She confirmed and he frowned. “Why can’t you do the trip after your heat is done?”

He swore he saw a tear blur her E/C eyes, so he stood and cut off whatever she was about to say. “Never mind, it’s none of my business. I’ll do it.”

She looked incredulously at him. “But we haven’t discussed your fee.”

He waved her off. “We can discuss fees after. I don’t have a set rate or anything.”

She furrowed her brow at the lie. She had struggled to come up with what she had to offer, and it wasn’t even close to his usual rate. Her sources had said he always took payment in advance. Here though, he was doing the exact opposite.

His voice cut into her thoughts. “When do we leave?”

“Is four hours enough time?” she asked.

Dean nodded. “We have to stop by my place to grab some stuff, then call my brother to come pick up my car and watch my office. Let’s get going.”

The drive to his flat was brief. He talked to his brother while he packed, then returned ten minutes later ready to go. They drove to the train station and were met by an equally handsome tall brunette, who YN assumed was Dean’s brother, since it appeared he knew the man. After some brief conversation, Sam took the car, and both Dean and YN headed to the train for boarding. YN had booked a private compartment, completely furnished with a large bed, sofa, and private washroom. Dean stored their luggage and took out some scent blockers, ones he could hang on the wall. They themselves were odorless, but absorbed other scents exceptionally well.

He watched her settle in as best as she could, her scent gracing the air, though faded, and it began to play with his mind as his nostrils took in the smell of apple pie. He fought to regain the control that threatened to slip from his grasp, even as his eyes flashed red. Fuck, if this was a sample of things to come, it was going to be a long, long trip.

“I’m going to get us some food and water. Wait here. Don’t answer the door for anyone. I will knock twice, then use the key. Do you understand? Don’t talk to anyone.”

YN nodded, and Dean left, making sure the door was locked tight before heading to the food car. He left her his jacket and shirt so she could have his scent, taking a fresh tee out of his bag to wear. He eyed the food choices before grabbing two bottles of water and two sandwiches. The cashier shot him a weird glance. “I’m really hungry.” He said to the girl at the till.

“Actually he bought that for me,” a voice interrupted from behind Dean.

“Well, well, look what the cat dragged in,” Dean greeted the other man warmly. “I didn’t know they let riff-raff on these things.”

His friend looked amused. “They must, how else would you be here?”

Both men laughed and made small talk as Dean paid for the food and walked with the other man to a smaller compartment. Once inside, they sealed the door shut, and the real conversation began.

“So, I got your message from Sam, now you need to tell me what the hell is going on Dean.”

Dean’s face grew serious. “I need your help with a case Benny.”

Benny chuckled, trying to lighten the mood, as was his nature. “Bit off more than you can chew eh? You know I don’t ‘knot’ around. My wife would kill me.”

Dean shook his head. “It’s not that kind of job. This more protection detail. But she’s not telling me the whole story, so I need extra eyes and ears out there.”

Benny nodded. “That I can do ‘mon ami’. What do we know?”

Dean shrugged. “Not much. She walked into my office 5 hours ago, said she needed to hire me for my scent, wear my clothes, like I was her Alpha.”

Benny’s eyebrows shot up as Dean relayed what he knew, and what he’d picked up from her reactions thus far. “Sounds like she’s being forced or sold to pay a debt.” Dean nodded.

“I need you to find out everything you can Benny, quietly. YN is scared and worried, considering she’s risking her life to travel during her heat. We need to help.”

His friend nodded. “I’ll start right away Dean. Be careful my friend. This reeks of mobster or Mafia business.”

Dean patted his friend on the shoulder. “You too Benny.”

They opened the door and kissed as lovers would. It was a common cover they used when working a case together. It allowed them to go around unnoticed. The two never did anything beyond kissing, but no one else knew that. Dean made his way back to the private compartment, knocked twice, then used his key to get in.

The overwhelming scent of apple pie assaulted his nostrils, fresh baked a la mode to be exact. Dean’s eyes went red, and he turned away so YN couldn’t see them.

“Need. Alpha. Please.” Her mind couldn’t form coherent thought as she struggled to relay her need.

Dean took a deep breath and took his jacket off the chair. He walked over to the young Omega, drenched in sweat, and placed it near her. He moved to leave when she grabbed his arm, her eyes glassy and filled with an unspoken request. He knew what she wanted, but he wouldn’t do that without her consent, consent given when she wasn’t struggling with fever and half dazed. Instead, he lay down beside her, and allowed YN to scent him, breathe him in.

She calmed down somewhat, falling asleep both from exhaustion and from the relief she got. The scent bond they’d just formed calmed her down for now, but Dean wondered if it would be enough, considering this was still day 1, and if today was any indication, this was going to be hell for him. They slept, mostly without incident, only disturbed by the occasional moan. The dawn brought a higher fever, and that was a concern. That usually meant one of two things: either her body was going into shock, or her body realized he was her soulmate. He closed his eyes and breathed her scent again, and sure enough, the fresh apple pie a la mode was still there.

Fuck!

Never, in a million years, had he imagined having another chance at love after Lisa passed. The never had any pups, and their life together had been taken far too quickly. She was the reason he never tried dating, never did anything even remotely related to finding another mate. He put himself out as an Alpha for hire so he could help people without the emotional attachment.

Until now.

Until this young Omega entered his life.

Dean left the bed and changed into fresh clothes, placing his used underwear on the pillow beside her. Yeah, it was weird and unsanitary, but she needed his scent, and his shorts provided the strongest source. He checked her fever once more before quietly leaving the room and seeking out food, and of course, Benny, who was a workaholic when not at home. He found his friend and bent to kiss him before taking the seat across from him.

“Morning sunshine, sleep well?”

Benny grunted. “Funny. Fucking hilarious actually.”

Dean chuckled. “Well, next time get a bigger room and I’d be able to stay longer.” He winked at Benny, smirking at his friend’s amused expression.

“Bite me, Alpha.” Came Benny’s reply.

They laughed and ate together, then headed to Benny’s compartment for some alone time. Once they were certain they were alone, and away from prying eyes, the real questions began.

Benny spoke first. “It’s worse than our original assumptions. YN is being sold to Castiel, yes that Castiel, to pay off her uncle’s debts. Her parents died some years ago, leaving her and her younger sister in the Uncle’s care. The bastards are using the younger sister as bait, saying if YN doesn’t hold up the deal, then the 12-year-old sister will be used to settle the debt.”

Dean wanted to throw up. His eyes went dark. “I knew they were scum, that’s low, even for Castiel. I assume the sister is being kept somewhere safe?”

Benny nodded. “She’s at Castiel’s mansion, so far unharmed, and will remain so as long as YN keeps her promise.”

Dean couldn’t hold back the low growl that escaped his lips. Benny shot his friend an amused look. “Thought you’d sworn off feelings Dean.”

“This is different man. YN is my soulmate.” Benny’s jaw dropped to the ground. “Yeah, I know. How often do you get a second chance at true love?”

“So you and she…?”

Dean shook his head. “No, she’s been ok with my scent so far, but she’s getting worse. Send word to Sam. I want him and Bobby to meet us there. Bring the cavalry. Plan B-12.”

Benny near choked on his drink. “Holy Shit Dean! You’re seriously risking war with Castiel?”

Dean all but glared at his friend, and Benny held up his hands in surrender. “Fine, you’re the boss. I’ll make the necessary arrangements.”

Dean opened the compartment door as the two exchanged a deep passionate kiss. The four passengers in the hall at that moment seemed uninterested in the couple, which was exactly how they wanted it.

He returned to YN’s compartment to find the entrance blocked by two young bucks, and the scent of YN’s heat, the scent that had lured the two Alphas.

“Can I help you gentlemen?” Dean asked, firm but politely.

“Buzz off!”

Dean grabbed the collar of the first man and knocked him flat on his ass, out like a light. The second charged at Dean, but met the same fate as his friend. He sent Benny a quick text, then went in to check on YN. The moment he entered and shut the door, her eyes flashed gold, and she looked at him.

“Alpha!” she pleaded.

Dean’s eyes went scarlet as the scent of her heat broke through his defenses. In mere seconds he had crossed the room, removing his shirt and shoes along the way. He lay beside her and captured her lips with his, tongues dancing and mating. He made quick work of the buttons on his shirt, the one covering her small frame, and captured a nipple with his teeth. YN moaned, grinding her hips against his thigh, desperate for more. Dean had his jeans and shorts off in a blink of an eye, and her panties as well. Then he was there, seeking entrance, his hard cock sliding into her tight hole. He broke her barrier and bottomed out as the tip hit her cervix. Then he moved, pulling out, then thrusting back in, and she cried his name as her first climax slammed through her body. He wasn’t gentle, but he wasn’t a monster. His pace was relentless, drawing out three more orgasms from YN before he felt his knot swell, filling her with ropes of white hot cum. Her fever broke instantly as the knot stretched and filled YN, and for the first time since the train left the station, she visibly relaxed and slept.

Dean kept himself propped on his elbows so as not to squash her while he waited for his knot to deflate. Then he carefully got up and went to clean off. Once that was finished, he brought over a cloth for YN, who was beginning to stir, so she could clean off as well. She looked from him, to the cloth, then to her current state of undress, realization dawning as her hand shot to her apex, finding the evidence she feared most. Then her hand shot to her neck, but she frowned upon finding nothing there.

“No mark? You didn’t want me?” she asked, tears welling in her eyes.

Dean was immediately at her side, gathering her into his arms, both forgetting their lack of clothing for the moment. “Sweetheart, I’ve never wanted anything more in my life. But you passed out when your fever broke, and I’m too much of a gentleman to mark you while you’re unconscious.”

She blushed, then she let out a string of curses. “Oh no, my…” she started, but her eyes shot to Dean, then down at her body. “What have I done?”

She buried her face in his shoulder, Dean stroking her hair as she sobbed. “I know everything YN, who you are, why you’re going across the country, and I know about your sister.” She looked up at him. “I’m working to free her, thus freeing you.”

“But how? If anyone tries to interfere, he will hurt her or worse! I can’t let that happen!” she panicked.

“I won’t let anything happen to her. I promise. Trust me, ok? I’m very good at what I do, and this ain’t my first rodeo.”

She nodded and reached up to kiss his cheek. “I do trust you.” She said. “By the way, thank you for helping with my heat.”

“Your welcome YN. It was my pleasure.”

They laughed at that, but the moment quickly became heated as their lips found each other once more. Her tongue found its way inside his mouth, seeking its mate, and Dean was more than happy to comply. He felt his rut hit then, and knew he was done for. He growled as he shed his clean boxers, needing to be inside her once more. He slid in easily, filling her, and this time he drove hard, and she met him pound for pound. It was quick, and both Alpha & Omega came together, YN crying out as Dean’s knot filled her, swelling as it deposited ropes of cum into her belly. He lowered his head then and sank his incisors into her scent gland, claiming her as his, He dragged his tongue over the mark after, kissing it then kissing her.

She was his now. There was no way she would ever belong to Castiel. YN was a mixed bag of emotions, but happy and sated as she exchanged nibbles and small kisses with her Alpha. They rolled over, so Dean was laying with his back on the mattress, and YN was straddling him, and blanketing him with her body. They napped, waking a few hours later to beeping from Dean’s phone. His knot deflated, he gently moved her off him and went to check his message while YN cleaned up.

When YN exited the washroom, she came across Dean frowning. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

Dean sighed. “My brother managed to get the layout of Castiel’s home, and it’s quite extensive. I also got a text from my associate, he’s on the train in a different compartment. He managed to get my team together to get your sister out, but they were detained while trying to leave for the rendezvous. I’m not sure how, but I’d swear that bastard found out my plans somehow.”

“But my sister…!”

Dean calmed her down. “I promised you and your sister safety, and I meant it. One of my team is an ex cop with lots of connections. She’ll get them to the meeting point. We just have to give her some time. Trust me.”

She did. She trusted him completely. She finished getting dressed while Dean sent a few messages back and then cleaned himself up and got dressed. About 20 minutes later, there was two knocks, a pause, then two more knocks on the door. YN looked worried, but Dean motioned for her to be quiet while he checked the peek hole. He put the safety on his gun and opened the door, then locking it once Benny was inside. He brought hot meals and coffee for the three of them, and the couple sat together on the small sofa, while Benny took residence in a small chair.

“Benny, this is YN. YN, this is Benny.” The two exchanged handshakes.

“Nice to finally meet you YN.” He turned to Dean. “I assume you got the same texts I did? Did you hear back from Donna yet?”

Dean shook his head. “No, but Jody’s also on it. Between those two, I’d be surprised if they didn’t beat us there.”

Benny chuckled. “True enough mon ami. I got confirmations from Charlie, Garth, Ellen, Jo, Jack, your mom, and Bobby.”

“Sweet. Plus, there’s you, me, Sam, Jody and Donna.”

YN looked between the two men. “Um, don’t take this the wrong way, but from what I’ve heard, Castiel is Mafia, and his is one of the most dangerous organizations in the world. And you’re going to get my sister out with 12 people? You guys are seriously insane, and possibly suicidal.”

Benny and Dean exchanged glances. “Insane, definitely insane.” They said in unison.

YN shook her head as she continued to eat, silently praying that Dean would stay true to his word.

~~~

The team met up in a small café, about 10 miles from their intended target. The café was run by Ellen’s family, and was a safe house location for his team when needed. Everyone that worked there was either related to Ellen by blood, or thoroughly researched and sworn to secrecy upon hiring. It came as no surprise to either man to find the team already sitting there waiting.

They all greeted each other like family, exchanging warm hugs and chaste kisses. YN just stood there in awe, her heart swelling with admiration as she watched her Alpha with his family. When he called her over to introduce her to them, they all greeted her with the same warmth, welcoming her into their clan, as Donna put it.

“Thank all of you for agreeing to do this for me. I just hope we can get to her before Castiel finds out what happened.” YN addressed everyone.

It was Jody who answered. “Honey, it’s what we do. Besides, your part of the family now. And we always take care of our own. Always.”

They spent the rest of the night talking and making their plans, eating the most amazing food YN had ever tasted in her entire life, and then resting for the night, so as to be fresh for the morning. When the sun was barely over the horizon, YN helped get them ready to go, cooking food for them and preparing light, easy-to-carry snacks for later. She wasn’t going with them, but had written a note for Dean to give to her sister, proof that Dean was going to get her back to YN.

Mary was staying behind to protect YN, just in case, and the rest set off. Her chest ached as her Alpha went with them, and Mary couldn’t help but notice her concern. It was written all over her face.

“YN, there’s no need to worry. This team is more than capable of getting in and out safely, with your sister alive and in one piece,” she said gently.

“How? I saw those specs. I know how locked down that compound is. I saw the thermal imaging Mary. That group of 11 is vastly outnumbered.”

Mary smiled. “I’d be more concerned for Castiel’s men. Trust me.”

YN grabbed some tea and sat down at the dining table, and motioned for Mary to sit with her. “Dean seemed to know Castiel, but he wouldn’t tell me anything about how he knew him.” She sighed. “I have only known your son for a couple of days, but I love him. He’s strong and so confident.”

“He’s always been like that, except one time, before you came into his life.” YN watched Mary with piqued interest. “Dean will probably tell you eventually, once he knows your safe, but you should be aware of this part of his past. Especially since it concerns Dean’s first wife, and it also concerns Castiel.”

YN frowned. Mary continued. “Dean fell in love with an Omega named Lisa. They were classmates in high school, and dated off and on for the next 5 years after, before finally getting married. Dean was beyond happy, they were good together. She was kind and sweet, a lot like you actually, but it didn’t stay happy.”

“What happened?” YN asked.

“Lisa followed her heart when she married Dean, and went against her family’s wishes for her. She was to marry Castiel, and unite their families. Cas didn’t take well to Dean’s interference, and arranged for a car accident, one that killed Lisa instantly while she was driving home from a doctor’s appointment. The autopsy found her to be 12 weeks pregnant. She and Dean were going to be parents.”

YN’s jaw dropped. “Oh my god. That’s horrible. How does he know Castiel did it?”

“Dean is ex-military, and an ex-cop, as are his brother and his team, in some form or another. They met throughout the years, teaming up on various assignments, and eventually became a regular team. The team officially formed while Lisa and Dean were still dating.”

YN was officially wowed, at a loss for words, and could only stare as Mary continued. “Dean had done some ‘investigating’ and eventually tied everything together. Of course there was no official proof, so he couldn’t go to the police with what he’d discovered. I wouldn’t be surprised if Dean sought out and killed Castiel.”

YN nodded as she took another sip of her coffee, staring out the window and praying that her alpha returned with her sister, both in one piece.

~~~

The team arrived at the compound, gaining the high ground quickly, so they could scout the terrain. Garth, nicknamed the Ninja by the team for his stealth, went ahead to scout the area around the fortress. Jody, took count of all the visible guards, there was no doubt in anyone’s mind that more could be hiding in the shadows, and made approximate calculations for hidden ones, based on the layout. Donna, or ‘sharpshooter’, set up her post, making sure her tripod was stable and her gun and ammo ready for anything. Gun wasn’t really an accurate description for ‘Junior’, Donna’s Mk 21 was a modern ‘bolt action’ sniper rifle, military grade, and completely badass. Her cartridges carried .338 Norma Magnum rounds, and she never missed a shot, ever.

Sam and Dean took in the view, each mentally pairing it with the schematics they’d seen, and mapping a route in and out based on that information. Everyone else locked and loaded their weapons, made sure they had lots of ammo, Jo having brought along her own special handmade ‘Molotov cocktails’, which were in a class all their own. They were better than any grenade on the planet, and had saved the team’s asses more times than anyone could count. Dean never asked what was in them, and Jo never volunteered the info. It was better that way.

Garth returned an hour later, reporting there were 8 guards outside the walls. He drew a small diagram pinpointing each one, and their routes. As dusk approached, the team began to make their way down to the west wall, where a storm drain awaited them, their way into the grounds. They made quick work of the two guards on that side, then slipped into the sewer system and proceeded toward the mansion. It was impressive in size, comparable to Windsor castle in England, but that wasn’t a deterrent, if anything, it was like an invitation to the team, daring them to break in, and they loved a challenge.

The waste tunnel brought them to the servant kitchen, which was thankfully empty at that hour, and the 10 team members regrouped there. They split into groups of two: Jo and Ellen, Garth and Bobby, Benny and Jody, Jack and Charlie, then Sam and Dean. The plan was to scout the interior for the girl and meet back at that spot in one hour, the meeting time was set in stone, even if they hadn’t found the girl. Should that be the case, they would set out a second time, widening the search parameters, and would continue to meet back at the same spot every hour until the objective had been completed.

Radio silence was a must, everything that needed to be communicated was done through sign language. The first hour went without any sign of the girl. All parties had been sent a picture of YN’s sister, so there would be no mistaking what she looked like. It was half way into the second hour that Dean spotted a young lady peeking out of her bedroom door, looking scared, but desperate. He motioned to Sam, and the two of them waited for signs of guards. Once they saw none, they approached the girl, who was now coming back from the washroom. She looked frightened at first, as if she thought she was in trouble, but Dean quickly motioned for her to stay quiet as he showed her the note her sister had written.

Hey sis,

These men are here to rescue you. They are good people, and you can trust them. They will bring you back to me, and we will be safe from the bad men. Go with them now. Love you lots. See you soon.

PS. My bear is bigger than your bear.

Neither Sam or Dean had any clue what the last statement meant, but one look at the young girl’s face told the guys she knew. YN and her sister had a code phrase that would let the other know they were safe. And it worked. YN’s sister nodded her trust to Dean, then took both their hands and pulled toward her room. They walked silently and quickly, and helped grab some shoes and clothes, then the girl’s favorite stuffed animal. After they had grabbed what they could, they made their way back to the servant kitchen. Dean motioned for Sam to go ahead and he’d catch up, which made Sam give Dean the glare of disapproval. He knew what Dean was up to, and silently voiced his displeasure.

But he was stubborn if nothing else, and the girl’s safety was of the utmost importance, so Sam obeyed his older brother, and took the sister to meet the others. Dean went in a different direction, running through the layout of the house in his head once more, searching for one specific wing. The one that had the master suite.

The one that had Castiel safely tucked away.

Dean was going to kill him.

It took less than five minutes to reach the targeted wing, and another two to dispatch the guards that roamed that hallway. Another minute found Dean inside the bedroom of his mortal enemy. He watched Castiel’s sleeping form, contemplating whether he should just shoot him now, or wake him first and make him watch as he put the gun to his temple. If he woke Cas, there would almost certainly be a struggle, and possibly more guards, which would severely decrease Dean’s chances of making it out of here alive. He knew his team would ensure the girl’s safety, and get her out quickly, so that was one less thing to worry about. But if he didn’t dispatch Cas now, then the bastard would find someone else’s life to ruin, or exploit, or just torment for fun.

He raised the gun, aiming for the temple. He would give him a quick death, hell, he wouldn’t even know it happened. Then Cas opened his eyes, sitting up as he realized what had happened, and what he now faced. His eyes met Dean’s, glistening with unspoken tears, of a time and place neither had ever spoken about since it happened.

“Hello Dean.” He whispered.

“Cas.”

“So this is it? The feud finally ends?”

“Guess so.” Dean replied.

“And the girl? You already got her out I assume?”

“Yeah, she’s safe. And so is YN.”

“Good.” Was all Cas said as his tears began to fall. “I’m sorry for everything Dean. I really wish things had turned out differently.”

Dean’s resolve waivered. “I do too Cas. If I could go back to not knowing who you were, and go back to that weekend, I would in a heartbeat.”

Cas gave a weak smile. “So would I.” He paused. “Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“Do me a favor, and kill that bastard YN calls an Uncle. He was going to sell me an innocent 12-year-old girl as payment if YN failed to uphold the arrangement.” He cast his gaze downward to the bedcovers. “I wouldn’t have done that, you know, hurt a young girl like that. Just the idea makes me sick.”

Dean nodded. “I know. I promise to make sure that asshole never sees daylight again.”

“Thank you Dean.”

Drops of salty tears blurred Dean’s vision as he raised the gun once more and pulled the trigger.

~~~

The hour was almost up when Dean ran into the kitchen, meeting a group of relieved faces, and together they all high tailed it out. Running through the sewers, making sure YN’s sister was in tow, the group made their way back to the wall drain, then up and out to the fresh air. Benny offered the young traveller a piggy back, while Jody carried her things. Donna was all packed up and ready to go by the time the group reached the hilltop, and then they all made their way back to the café.

YN saw her sister from the window, and ran out to greet her. Anna ran to YN, tears of joy streaming down her face as they hugged furiously.  Everyone watched happily as the two sisters embraced. Then YN moved to embrace her Alpha, meeting Dean’s lips halfway as he sought a kiss from her. He chuckled at the plaid shirt she wore, one of his, thinking he would let her wear all his clothes. They looked much sexier on her than they did on him. The entire group went inside the restaurant and shared a hearty meal together, relaxing and collectively congratulating themselves on a job well done.

~~~

Castiel hadn’t move much since Dean had left the room. He stared at the bullet hole in his pillow, then at his phone, waiting for news, any news at this point. It had been well over three hours, something must have happened. His panic mode was just surfacing when his phone dinged, and a text came through. Relief washed over Cas as he read the words.

“Made it back. Everyone’s safe. See you soon husband.   xoxo Sam.”

@legion1993 @akshi8278 @alwaysdreamingforthebest

[thirteen-beaxhes]

Hearts and Hotels (Part 1)

Just a one shot I wrote over the past 5 days when I had no Internet on vacation

Part 2 here!

Words: 3495

~~~~

There was a lot that Cyrus was thinking as his parents checked into their hotel. How tired the long journey had made him, how inviting the food looked, how homely the place felt. But all of it felt dull to him. He could care less about the journey, the food and the ambience. It was all irrelevant.

His friends were probably all having fun without him, he thought to himself while pulling his suitcase out of the trunk. And they probably already forgot about him.

“Cyrus, honey,” his mom said, giving him a sympathetic smile. “I know you miss your friends already, but please try and have fun.” She gave him a kiss on the head and proceeded to go into the dining hall for lunch.

Cyrus groaned, following her. He wanted to argue that he wasn't hungry, but his stomach vehemently disagreed. As he walked into the hall, he noticed the long line of dishes arranged, surrounded by the tables.  Of course, a buffet. Human interaction. Super.

Cyrus plonked himself onto a seat, pulling out his phone for a momentary distraction. Opening Instagram, he already saw stories from Buffy, Andi and Jonah from Adrenaline City, where they were trying the new rides. A pang of sadness hit Cyrus’ heart. He was grateful for his parents taking him on vacation, but he had wanted nothing more than to be with his friends. And that clearly wasn't happening. At least it's just a week. Cyrus put back his phone and looked around the hall for nothing in particular.

And that's when he saw him.

The boy looked no older that Cyrus,  although definitely taller. His hair was blonde and he was wearing a grey camouflage hoodie and blue cuffed jeans. His hair was swept back, definitely gelled. From the way he walked, he was confident and sure of himself. He was walking with a blonde-haired girl who looked about his age too, maybe a year older. They were laughing about something as they headed to the buffet spread.  

Cyrus felt his breath catch and he couldn't stop staring at the boy. No lie, he was good-looking. But something in him told him that it wasn't the only reason he was staring. Something in him told him that the boy was something more.

Just then, the boy turned Cyrus’ way and caught his eye. Embarrassed, Cyrus wanted to look away but, try as he might, he only managed a slight turn. The boy looked back at Cyrus, giving him a warm smile in return. And Cyrus swore that he felt his heart melt with that smile. He smiled back a weak smile, incapable of any coherent thought when looking at the boy.

Huh. Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad week.

*

Okay, he was already wrong. It was already a disaster.

Cyrus soon learned that the spot of service he got in the dining hall was all he would get that week, as in all other parts of the hotel there was no Internet. And no WiFi. So even if he wanted to talk to his friends, he couldn't. Cyrus huffed in annoyance, throwing his phone onto the bed. It doesn't even matter, it's not like his friends were constantly contacting him. Cyrus was really trying to not think these thoughts, but it was no use. His brain provided him with a constant flow of self-hatred to keep his thoughts occupied.

Well, he might as well find a way to keep himself busy. His parents had plans to go sightseeing for 2 days, but that still left about 5 days of nothingness to be spent at the hotel of doom. Okay, not ‘doom’ but Cyrus couldn't help but feel dramatic. The boredom was already getting to him. He walked out of the room and went down the hall, finding the lobby of the hotel. To his right was the dining hall, not useful at the  moment. However, slightly to the left there was a room where there seemed to be some people. Curious, Cyrus walked ahead and opened the door. There he saw the sign ‘Common Room’.

Oh. It was that kind of hotel. It was probably a place where all guests could just sit around, read, play games or drink. Normally, that would be the last place Cyrus would be found. But desperate times called for desperate measures. Plus, they had a decent collection of books so all was not lost.

Sighing to himself, Cyrus made his way to the bookshelf, running his hand along the spines of the various books as he surveyed his choices. No matter where he was, he could somehow always find comfort in books, in their feel, smell and their words. Cyrus let his thoughts run for a while as he absent-mindedly walked along until he found a book that seemed interesting. He reached to pull it out when a hand brushed against his, reaching for the same book. Startled out of his thoughts, Cyrus stopped to look up at the person, to meet green eyes.

It was the same boy, the one from the dining hall. The one who Cyrus had been staring at until he was caught. And now he was right in front of him.

He's even cuter up close, Cyrus’ mind offered in an unhelpful manner. The boy looked equally as surprised as Cyrus, his lips quirked up in a small smile. Cyrus gulped, trying desperately to think of something to say but the fact that their hands were resting together on the book was too distracting for Cyrus to say anything. It also didn't help that his brain was just playing HE HAS FRECKLES on repeat.

“Um, I'm,” Cyrus stammered, trying to say something before his heart exploded when his mother called him from the door of the room. Cyrus blushed and mumbled an apology, and walked away quickly, making a clear effort to avoid the boys eyes.

Cyrus may have been mistaken, but he swore he heard the boy sigh quietly before he walked away.

This was getting weirder and weirder.

*

Why is thunder a thing, Cyrus thought to himself as the sound sent a shudder through his body from where he was curled up on a chair in the common room. The storm had been going on for over an hour, and it was showing no signs of letting up any time soon. With the storm, the power had also gone, plunging the hotel in darkness. Cyrus had been quietly reading in the common room after he and his parents had returned from sightseeing that day when the power went, leaving him surrounded by darkness and strangers. Thankfully, the other guests in the room with him seemed like kind people who were also slightly terrified. Within 10 minutes of the power going, some candles had been lit and quiet conversation ensued, interrupted by flashes of lightning and cracking of thunder. The candle next to Cyrus flickered faintly.

“Not a fan of storms?”

Cyrus looked away from the window in the direction of the voice and was surprised. The boy he had embarrassed himself in front of twice was standing next to him, smiling down at him. For a moment, Cyrus wanted nothing more than for the world to open up and swallow him whole before he made more of a fool of himself. But, sensing no escape, he just gave a soft emotionless laugh.

“Almost as big a fan as of human interaction.” Honestly, by now, self deprecation was no longer just a strategy, it was a lifestyle.

The boy laughed at that, and Cyrus couldn't help but feel his heart do a somersault. His laugh alone could have lit up the hotel.

“Mind if I join you?” the boy asked.

Cyrus shrugged compliantly, motioning to the seat next to him. The boy smiled and sat down, looking back at Cyrus. He noticed that in the candlelight, the boy’ eyes looked even more mysterious, and the lighting was doing wonders for his features. Not that they needed it.

They sat for a bit in silence, neither knowing what to say. After a while, the boy pointed at the book Cyrus was reading and said, “How's the book?”

Cyrus looked down and realised that it was the same book that had lead to the incident the previous morning with the boy. He blushed, relieved that the light was so low that he couldn't see it. “Its quite good. Not like any other books I've read.”

“I've wanted to read it for a while, but I didn't think anyone else would be interested in something like it. Least of all someone as attractive as you.”

Cyrus choked on air at that, trying to pass it off as a cough. The boy thought he was cute?!?! “So, are you saying that just because I'm cute, I wouldn't read this?” Cyrus replied, a  burst of confidence shining through.

The boy looked flustered, immediately trying to correct himself. “No, no! That's not what I meant! I just meant that I've never been lucky enough to meet someone as cute as you who liked something like this,” the boy said, looking down, away from Cyrus.

He's interesting when flustered, Cyrus thought smiling to himself. He didn't expect to so immediately bond with someone, especially with someone like this boy in front of him.

“I'm Cyrus, by the way,” Cyrus said, holding out his hand.

“TJ,” the boy said, shaking his hand with a smile. They stayed like that for a moment, neither wanting to draw their hand away.

Just then, another crack of thunder caused Cyrus to jump back, crawling further into his seat. TJ smiled a bit, but he also looked concerned. “Are you okay, Cyrus?”

“Yeah, yeah. Just. Thunder isn't my favourite.”

“Hey,” TJ said, making Cyrus look at him. “Don't focus on the storm then. Just, keeping talking to me.”

“About what?”

“Anything. Nothing. It doesn't matter. Just talk and I'll listen,” TJ said, leaning forward, resting his head on his hand.

“I'll bore you,” Cyrus said, turning away. He didn't want to kill TJ of boredom and nd disinterest.

“I don't know, Cyrus. I've only known you for 2 minutes, and I already find that hard to believe.”

*

“Wait, what? I'm sorry I can't believe that,” TJ said, laughing to what Cyrus said.

“I'm serious! Further proof why I should just remain wrapped in bubble wrap in bed,” Cyrus said, also smiling. Recounting his most embarrassing moments should have been just that: embarrassing. But somehow,  with TJ there just laughing along light-heartedly, Cyrus didn't feel so bad. He even forgot about his friends having fun without him. He was having a decent time too.

In the moment of silence that followed, Cyrus opened his phone to check the time. 8:19 pm. Suddenly, he heard TJ gasp.

“Hey! I recognise that girl!” TJ was pointing to Cyrus’ phone screen, which was a picture of him, Buffy, Andi and Jonah. Specifically, he was pointing to Buffy.

“Oh, that's Buffy Driscoll. She's my best friend. How do you know her?” Cyrus asked, confused.

“I don't know. Is she like, a sportsperson?”

“Yeah, she's the captain of our girls’ basketball team, the Spikes I think.”

On saying the team name, TJ's head perked up, and he looked at Cyrus in bewilderment. “From Jefferson Middle School?”

“Yeah,” Cyrus said, even more confused.

“I've seen her play! She beat our team last month,” TJ said, the last part albeit ruefully.

“Wait, how? That's not possible unless,” Cyrus started, trailing off when the realisation hit him. He looked at TJ who looked as excited and surprised as him.

“You live in Shadyside!” the two yelled simultaneously, causing conversation in the common room to stop as all the guests turned to stare at the source of the noise. But the two couldn't care less.

“Wait, which school do you go to? I've never seen you at Jefferson,” Cyrus said, sitting up in excitement. All this time, TJ has lived in the same town as him.

“I go to Salt Lake,” TJ replied, also sitting up.

“Wow! Can you imagine the odds?” TJ said after a moment.

“I know, I meet a cute guy and then find out he lives in my city. Wild,” Cyrus said, feeling slightly bold in that moment.

Now it was TJ's turn to become a blushing, fumbling mess at Cyrus’ words. He giggled and looked at his shoes, making Cyrus lose his mind.

They both laughed quietly for a while, the candle illuminating their smiles. When they went quiet, Cyrus was suddenly aware of how close he and TJ were. It should have been weird, they had only talked for the first time an hour or so ago. But it wasn't.

The silent tension between them grew, as they both looked into each other’s eyes, unsure of what to do. Just as it was reaching a head, the lights came on in the hotel to the jubilant cheers of all the guests. Cyrus and TJ jumped apart, the candle blowing out in the process.

Now with the lights back on, Cyrus didn't feel as brave and nd confident anymore. Somehow it had been easier to talk to TJ in the near darkness. He looked timidly across at TJ who was looking around the room. TJ turned and smiled at Cyrus, in that warm way that was making his knees weaker and weaker.

“The lights are back.”

“So it seems.”

“Does that mean you have to go?” TJ asked, seeming hesitant for the first time that evening.

Cyrus was surprised. It was almost as if TJ didn't want him to go? There has got to be some mistake with that. But in that moment, looking at TJ nervously pulling at his hoodie sleeve, Cyrus knew he was being genuine. He smiled at TJ and reached over, taking hold of the hand pulling his sleeve, causing the boy to look up at him.

“I'm not going anywhere.”

*

TJ: hey u up

Cyrus: why??

TJ: wats ur room no

Cyrus: tj…

Cyrus laughed as quietly as he could, trying not to wake his parents in the next room. He was sharing a suite with them, thankfully having his own room. But that didn't mean the walls were soundproof.

TJ: fine just come to the garden in 10

This is not going to end well, Cyrus thought to himself as he pulled on a hoodie and opened the room door as quietly as he could, after slipping on some shoes. But, they had been sightseeing that whole day and his parents were exhausted, so they wouldn't wake uo for anything. He crept as silently as he could down the hall, although he knew that guests roaming about at 1 am wasn't unusual for hotels. He was just a nervous person.

TJ was already at the garden, holding a torch. He smiled as soon as he saw Cyrus, waving at him excitedly.

This boy was going to be the death of him, Cyrus thought as he jogged up to him. All the lights were switched off, leaving the garden in darkness except for the torch.

“You're insane, TJ,” Cyrus whispered, unable to keep his smile hidden.

“Come on, Cy. I haven't seen you in 2 days cuz you guys keep going out!” TJ whispered back, grabbing Cyrus’ hand as he pulled him to the centre of the garden.

“So this better be worth me sneaking out then.”

“Do you trust me?”

“I saw you for the first time 5 days ago!”

“That doesn't answer my question,” TJ said, looking slyly at Cyrus.

Cyrus glared at him, but he knew the answer. It didn't matter how long ago he had met TJ. He would trust him with his life.

“I knew it,” TJ said triumphantly, pulling Cyrus down to the grass where he lay down, looking at the sky.

The sky was gorgeous. All the stars looked like glitter that had been spread over a black cloth. The moon was full, showering the garden with a soft white light. Cyrus couldn't hold back a gasp, as he lay down beside TJ. He looked over to see TJ looking at him, smiling.

“Worth it, Cyrus?”

“Yes, of course!” Cyrus exclaimed, looking back at the sky in excitement.

TJ and Cyrus spent the next half an hour just naming constellations, sharing jokes and stories and just unifying each other’s company. All the while, their hands remained clasped together between them, their fingers threaded together. Cyrus thought back to the first time he and TJ had brushed hands, that day in the common room. That time it had sent his brain in a whirl. But now, his hand holding TJ's, it felt normal, grounding even.

“God, I love the sky,” TJ whispered, looking over at Cyrus.

“Me too,” Cyrus said, looking at TJ. In doing so, their noses bumped together.

They lay like that for a while, both looking at each other, unable to look away. Cyrus was nervous. He didn't know what TJ was feeling at the moment, but Cyrus realised he wanted nothing more than to close the gap between them. But he was holding himself back. TJ will be weirder out and he will leave. That thought was what made Cyrus back away a bit.

But before he could move away, TJ reached over and cupped Cyrus’ cheek with his hand, gulping nervously.

“Is this okay?” he asked.

Cyrus couldn't bring himself to say anything, just nodding in response. He leaned into TJ’s hand.

They were so close.

TJ began leaning in slowly, and Cyrus started doing the same. Finally, after several long moments of just leaning in, Cyrus pressed their lips together, pulling TJ in for a kiss. It was short, but perfect. The moonlight and the starry sky were the perfect backdrop. But Cyrus pulled away fast, still nervous.

“What happened? Should I not have done that?” TJ asked, worried.

“What? No no! That's not a problem at all,” Cyrus said, reassuring him.

“That what is it?”

“Its just. This is really fast. I kinda just wanna, slow down? I wanna get to know you first. Is that okay?”

At that TJ smiled and laughed quietly, moving his hand from Cyrus’ cheek to hold his hand.

“Slow is wonderful, Cyrus.”

They lay there for what seemed like forever, just talking in low voices, pointing out the stars until they had to return to their rooms lest their parents find them missing.

As Cyrus watched TJ walk away from his door, he saw the boy looked back at him, his customary smile on his face.

And Cyrus thought to himself, slow will be perfect.

*

This week went by too fast, Cyrus thought to himself as he loaded his suitcase back into the trunk. He laughed a bit, remembering how he had grumbled when he first reached there a week ago. Seemed like forever ago. He hadn't even met TJ then.

TJ. They were going to have to say goodbye soon. Luckily it wouldn't be too long, after all, they lived in the same town. They'd see each other again.

They had spent the rest of the days just roaming the hotel together, playing board games in the common room, sharing ice creams by the pool and meeting in the garden every night. They were just getting to know each other first, but their feelings were there right under the surface, and they made no efforts to hide them. But they were taking things slow. And it was going great.

But Cyrus was worried. He had the nasty feeling that this relationship with TJ would fall through the moment they left the hotel. All this while, their moments had been etched into those walls. Who was to say that they wouldn't fade away when they returned? What if he no longer felt brave?

“So I guess this is goodbye?”

Cyrus turned around to see TJ standing by the door, smiling but his eyes were sad.

“For now.”

“Good thing we both live in Shadyside, huh?”

Cyrus looked away from TJ at that, wringing his hands.

“Hey, what's wrong?” TJ asked, holding Cyrus’ chin.

“Will we still be, you know, us?” Cyrus asked softly. “When we go back?"

TJ wrapped his arms around Cyrus, pulling him in for a hug. “Of course we will be. Why would you think we wouldn't?”

“What if things change?”

“Things are going to change. Doesn't mean we should be scared of it.”

“What if I'm no longer brave?” Cyrus asked, looking down.

“Then I'll still be right here. I promise.”

They stayed like that, arms wrapped around each other, until Cyrus’ dad called him to go. Reluctantly, Cyrus pulled himself away from TJ, leaning in to give him a kiss on the cheek.

“Cyrus?”

“Yes?”

“See you later, alligator.”

Cyrus laughed at the cliché choice of a goodbye, but felt his heavy heart lighten a bit.

“In a while, crocodile.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

I'm sorry this is bad lol I am not used to writing fluff

( Also hi I wanna dedicate this to sarah { @heart-eyes-kippen } mostly cuz I need to tell her that I fINALLY WROTE JUST FLUFF) (but mostly cuz I love her she is splendid and incredible and amazing and ALL OF YOU SHOULD GO READ SWINGSETS AND DANCE ROUTINES OR ELSE YOU HAVEN'T LIVED)