#is everything making me nauseous or is that an excuse to not eat | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lymtw · 3 months ago

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hello hello! i don’t know if you’re comfortable with writing this, but if so are you open to writing a toji x reader fic involving period sex? thank you!!! and p.s. i love your writing 😫❤️

A/N: Thank you for reading my works ☺️🫶🏼 I am totally comfortable writing this! I should really put up a post with my do's and don't's. I'll get to that as soon as I find the motivation 😃👍 Anyways, thank you for sending in this request 💙

| cw: period sex |

You don't like making a scene out of that time of the month when it comes to spending time with Toji. You don't like mentioning it to him, so whenever he wants to start removing clothes with you during that time, you always make up some excuse. You say you're not in the mood or that you're too tired or that you can help him out, but that's all, and thank god he never pushes it. He would rather take what you offer him or suck it up and bear the horniness in silence, than make you uncomfortable.

Toji knows the basics of basics of menstruation. He knows that you bleed out of your vagina for a few days, and that often times, it's an uncomfortable and painful time for your body. He knows that the fluctuations of your hormones brings on mood swings, and that you have to buy certain products to prevent you from getting blood everywhere.

"Ma," he calls, as soon as he walks through the door of your apartment. He's holding a bag of food in each of his hands. Food that you were craving and requested for him to pick up once he finished his job. Your door was unlocked so he knows you're not out, but you didn't answer him. He put the food down on the dining room table and went on to look for you. He didn't have to look too hard, because you were in your bedroom, the first room he checked.

"Doll?" He calls, again. "I brought the food you asked for. Don't you wanna eat?" He watches you from the doorway. You look down, very much so, and he knows there's something wrong because you answered him with the smallest shake of your head. He hates seeing you all curled up and seemingly lifeless like this. Your body is drowned by one of his hoodies and you're wearing your baggiest sweatpants. Though it looks comfortable, it's way too hot for you to be so covered up. He makes his way over to your bed and sits beside you. "What's up, mama? Why aren't you hungry, anymore?" He gently squeezes your hip a couple times, hoping maybe it'll make you turn to face him, but you don't. You stay curled up.

"My stomach hurts," you say, unsure of whether he heard you or not. All you know is that if he asked you to repeat yourself, you wouldn't out of frustration. You would just shake your head and go back to hurting in silence.

"Did you eat something bad?" He pauses, a small smile curling onto his lips as something else comes to mind. "Baby... have you eaten anything at all, today?" He knows sometimes you forget to eat because you get so distracted by everything else you have going on, and that pit in your stomach often makes you nauseous.

"No, it's not that. I'm on my period." You internally cringe at the use of the word. Despite the power behind being able to put up with this every single month, you can't help but feel fragile and weak at the thought of letting Toji in on it.

"Oh, doll... You should've told me this before. I would've showed up with much fuller hands." He lays on his side, and wraps his body around yours. His leg goes over yours and his hand goes beneath your hoodie and presses against your stomach. "So, your guts are mad that I didn't put a baby in you?" He says, into your back.

"Yeah, a bit," you say, thinking of the stomach clutching cramps you've had for the past couple hours.

"Damn, that's terrible. What about you, huh? Are you mad that I didn't put a baby in you?" He asks, a smile on his lips forming through the unserious question.

You can't deny that, occasionally, you've wondered what your DNA would look like mixed with Toji's in the form of a child. You always envision the cutest little boy with Toji's intense, green eyes and your beautiful hair, and Toji's sharp nose, and your pretty skin tone. You think of how much you would love him, and how you would take on that role of being a devoted and loving mother. You think of how attached you would become to the little munchkin, enough to assume that you would be the one crying on his first day of school, not your child.

"Of course not. I'm not ready to be a mom," you respond, lowly.

Toji would be lying if he said he didn't see himself having kids with you. He often imagines how you would look holding a baby girl that shares a mixture of his and your features. Part of him hopes that your graceful beauty shines, prominently, through those tiny features, but he also knows that it wouldn't be the end of the world if the child ended up looking more like him. To see you holding a mini him would heal something that runs deep in his soul. Regardless of whether your child looks like him or you or it's the perfect blend of both of you, he knows that he'll be begging to cradle them again and again, even if they are the reason he'll be losing sleep. He'll lunge towards them when they stumble and fall, he'll soothe them when they can't sleep, and he'll bear with the messiness and the unstable emotions.

"Good, 'cause..." he sighs and coils even tighter around you. You're starting to feel hot with all those heavy layers on and the additional source of heat that clings to you from behind. "I need to keep you to myself for a much longer while. I can't imagine sharing you with someone else." He smiles when you laugh quietly at the small poke offered to your stomach. "At least, not right now, 'kay?"

"Yeah, okay," you respond, genuinely glad that he feels the way he does. You don't feel ready to take that enormous step either.

"I know that means your periods will keep coming every month, but I can help you in any way you ask me to. You just have to let me know, mama." His voice conveys sincerity and concern. He's serious about you, but he can't stand being shut out like this on things that pertain to your wellbeing.

You wiggle out of his hold and flip over to face him. You smile at him as best you can, despite the storm you feel in your stomach.

"You look small, doll." He chuckles at the way you bring a sleeved hand towards his face. The sleeves of his hoodie are enormous and puffy around your arms.

"Yeah... your sweater was the only thing that was helping, earlier. I felt like the cramps were gonna kill me so I curled up in this because it smells like you."

His smile is so soft. He loves hearing that he was your best source of comfort while you were in pain. "Well, i'm here, now, so you can take that off and curl up with the real thing."

"Mm..." you drop your hand to his chest. "This is keeping me warm and it fits huge on me, so i'm comfortable."

"Come on. I'm warmer and I fit so much bigger on you than this." He grabs the material of his sweater and extends it away from your waist, before letting it go and watching it melt back into a bulky pile on you. "Yeah, this is nothing compared to me, doll. When i'm on top of you, you completely disappear."

You sigh, as if he isn't tempting you at all, but you can already picture the warmth of his body heat and it sounds absolutely divine. "Fine, fine," you grumble, sitting up to pull off the enormous blanket you had been wearing for the past three hours and tossing it towards the end of your bed.

"So, that's why you didn't wanna take it off?" He's no better than the strangers who ogle your body when he takes you out for a date night. Your chest is holding his attention like a puppy with its favorite toy.

"Told you I was comfortable," you say, fixing the twisted strap of your bra before laying back down.

"Did you not want me to see you like this?" He asks, feeling the bare skin of your waist beneath his palm.

"I just feel really gross, Toji. I showered twice and I still feel like I stink, my skin isn't clear, and my body hurts. I never want you to see me this way, but I can't stay away from you every time I go through this."

He sees this as the perfect moment for him to become your heat radiating weighted blanket, and he seizes the opportunity, splaying over you like a net before contracting his limbs around you. He really is bigger than that hoodie with the way he makes your entire body vanish beneath his.

"This..." you laugh, the sound coming out a little choppy due to the newly added weight. "...is much better," you say, your voice a little strained.

"Listen," he says. What he wants to say to you is really important, and he needs you to absorb the information as clearly as possible, so he thinks it's best if his lips are right beneath your ear, just so you don't miss a word he says. "You smell reallyyy good, but you shouldn't be scrubbing your skin raw with too many showers. Also, I didn't even notice the little pimples on your skin 'til you pointed them out. Not that it matters to me, but your skin will clear up in a couple days." He grins at the little giggles that leave you and the slight shake of your shoulders that accompany the sound. "And about the pain... just tell me what you need and I'll get it for you. Anything but a heating pad, because I like whaling on you like this." He pulls away and takes note of the beaming smile on your face. "You heard all of that, right?" He asks, making sure you're not just letting his words go over your head.

"Mhm." You hum, in response. Your hands cup his jaw and pull him closer to you. You pause when he's mere centimeters away from you and just look up at him, adoration clear in your eyes. His gaze flits between your eyes and your lips. You've always been so enticing and appealing to him, regardless of the nonsensical remarks you make about yourself. Toji has every intention of proving that he'll love you the same all the time. This time of the month is no exception.

With a lick to his bottom lip, he takes the leap and kisses you first. You smile as his lips move slowly and gently in tandem with yours. You feel a lot better with Toji around. It feels like he actually melted away your cramps with his presence. You can enjoy him because the pain in your stomach isn't as intense anymore.

He can feel the change in pace of your affection. You're kissing him faster, your hands are balling up the back of his shirt, and your breathing is getting heavier. He decides to take it step further and slides his hands beneath the cups of your bra.

"Does that hurt?" He asks, knowing that it's possible that your breasts feel tender.

"Not at all. Please, keep going. You can even squeeze a little harder," you say, a small laugh following.

"Alright, baby. You wanna take your bra off so I can get in there real good?"

You're a little nervous about where this is headed. You can feel the neediness growing between your thighs, and him touching your breasts like that is only fueling the flame. You don't know if he's innocently trying to soothe the tenderness that vanished a day before the waterfall of blood began or if he's just trying to cop a feel. All you know is that it feels good and that it's a risky decision to take your bra off even if you've already decided to remove it.

"Yeah, I'll take it off," you say, using your elbows to assist you in sitting up. He sits back on his knees as you reach behind you, towards the clasps of your bra. You take a little longer when you notice how he's staring at your chest in anticipation, practically hypnotized as he waits for you to free your tits. You swear you saw his tongue peek out to lick his bottom lip. Those naturally bright eyes of his are dark, the color almost entirely swallowed whole by his enlarged pupils. You have to try not to laugh at how strong his focus is as the cups slide down your chest and the strap ride down your arm.

"Fuuuck, look at you." He's practically drooling as he reaches his hand out to touch. He instantly feels the warmth and softness of your right breast engulf his hand. "You've got a really pretty body, doll. You know I love taking care of it," he purrs, crawling back onto you. You're pushed back onto the bed. Your head falls into the pillows, and you're instantly surrounded by Toji. He leans down, his lips brushing over your jaw while his hands busy themselves with your breasts. "You can't scare me off with a little bit of blood, pretty girl. You can't scare me off at all," he murmurs, letting his lips roam towards your neck. He rolls your buds between his fingers, smirking at the way you shudder at the more intense stimulation. "That feel good?" He asks, hearing the low hums coming from you.

"Mhm... it does." Your cunt throbs with need as he continues tweaking your nipples, brushing them with his thumbs, rolling them with index fingers before pressing them a little. He sucking on that sensitive spot on your neck, really putting in the work to make you want him, badly. "T-Toji..." you whimper.

"Yeah, I know, sweet girl. Just wanna help you feel better." A deep chuckle rumbles through his chest at the feeling of you squeezing your thighs around his waist, chasing friction for your needy cunt. "Need some help with that? Want me to rub your little clit?"

You're too distracted by the pleasure you derive from grinding against his lower abdomen to notice his hand leaving one of your breasts and trailing down your stomach. Just as his fingers go beneath the waistband of your sweatpants, you snap out of your daze.

"No, wait- That's dirty," you say, scooting backwards.

"What are you talking about?" He asks, rhetorically. "It's a part of you. I don't care if any part of me gets covered in your blood."

You look away from him, flustered by his admission. You've never allowed him to touch you down there while you're on your period. This might have been the first time you've directly told him about it, too, so before then, he was just left to assume.

"I'm not a pea brained little boy, and you're not gross for this, baby. Just let me help you feel better."

You contemplate it for a few seconds. You've never done it like this before. The mess would be extreme. You'll be overthinking the things that run through his mind the entire time. Would you even be capable of getting into the mindset necessary to enjoy it when you're so worried about what Toji's thinking?

"Please, mama. Let me make you feel good." He runs a hand over your shin, hoping to soothe your nerves about this.

Your thoughts were starting to loop from how much you were overthinking it. A whole lot of 'what is Toji going to think?' and 'what if he can't go through with it after seeing all of it?' swirling around in your head. The thoughts were going nowhere but down, so you eventually just let yourself go. "Okay," you respond. "Can I just have a minute before we..." you raise your brows, allowing the gesture to finish your sentence.

"Yeah, of course. Take your time." He retracts his hand, allowing you to rise off the bed and make your way to the bathroom.

You're nervous. You don't know what would compel Toji to want to do something like this. You'll accept that it's for your benefit, but what does he gain from this apart from getting a blood covered dick? You know he won't put on a condom. He practically whines every time you tell him to either put a condom on or pull out. Neither of those options are viable for him, so he sweet talks you until you let him go in raw and cum inside you. He always thanks you for staying on birth control. His appreciation is genuine, too. It's not just some douchey speech where he says 'thank you for taking pills so I don't have to stress about cumming inside you'. It's a real, hug and kiss, 'I love you' deserving, appreciation.

You walk out of the bathroom after removing your menstrual product, wearing just the panties you had on and your darkest colored towel wrapped around your hips. That pair of underwear is not your prettiest pair, so you're fine with ruining them so that you don't ruin your carpet on your walk back to the bed.

"Everything alright?" Toji asks, eyes glued on you the second the bathroom door opened.

"Yeah. All good," you assure, sitting on the edge of the bed. You felt as anxious as you did the first time you and Toji had sex together. It was visible in the way you kept your eyes on your folded hands and how you toyed with your thumbs.

"Don't be nervous, baby. It's just like every other time." He smiles at you as you continue to stare at your lap. "You wanna put the towel down?"

"Oh, yeah." The second the towel is unwrapped from your lower body, you feel your anxiety double, knowing that the stain on your underwear is visible. He can see you crossing your legs to try and hide the stain. It's cute, but futile, since he'll see it much more clearly in a few seconds. You're unnecessarily straightening the corners, as if the towel isn't going to be moving around once things get going.

"Good. Now, lay down for me," Toji instructs, the words making your heart drop. "Need you to get all comfortable."

You hesitantly crawl onto the towel and lay on your stomach, concealing the stain on the front of your underwear.

"Flip over, doll. Wanna look at that pretty face." He can tell you're doing everything you can to hide what he expected and already saw. You flip onto your back and cross your legs. "Come on, pretty girl. Don't be embarrassed. It's just me."

You sigh and uncross your legs. Seconds go by and your cheeks are scorching, embarrassment coursing through you so fluidly, not knowing that the sight makes Toji feral. The color, the fact that you're free bleeding and the stain is growing as time goes by, the shame it brings you from not being able to stop it. It's all going straight to his dick. It was already straining in his boxers, but now it's throbbing.

"Good girl," he praises, running his hands up and down your thighs. You feel hot under his gaze. He's not making his attention to your stained underwear subtle at all. You just want to put a pillow over your head and let him do what he has planned.

"You're so cute," he says, reaching a hand towards the loud color between your thighs. He feels the warm wetness beneath his thumb as he tests the waters and rubs your clit through the scarlet tainted garment. He watches you squirm at the touch, your stomach rising and falling erratically at the stimulation. "So warm, baby." He can see the color adhering to the edges of his thumb as he continues to stroke your throbbing clit.

"Toji..." you gasp.

"Yeah, baby. I know."

The smallest pinch between your brows appears as the stimulation continues. It's slow enough to keep you comfortable, but you want more, so you attempt to trap his hand between your thighs so that you can get off on it.

"Open, doll. Keep your pretty legs open for me." He grins at the shuddered breath you release as you release his hand.

"P-Please, Toji. Please, more," you whimper, feeling yourself get closer and closer to your peak.

He's notices how the blood reached higher up the front of your underwear. Right over where he's rubbing your clit, the material is soggy beneath his fingers.

"I'm gonna make you cum all you want, but not like this," he says, abruptly stopping the movement of his fingers. He bows forward and kisses from your slightly heaving mid-center to your lower abdomen. The irony smell of your blood is heavier as he nears the elastic of your panties.

"Let's get these off," he murmurs, hooking his fingers into the garment. Your heart is racing all over again at the thought of him seeing the whole thing, uncensored. The uncontrollable drip of your blood, the messy aftermath of it being smeared and played with by his fingers over the thin barrier of your underwear. It's not presentable, compared to what he got from you every moment before this one. Far from it, but he proceeds with his fearless curiosity, dragging your panties down your hips and thighs, above your knees and swiftly down the rest of the way. He puts them down beside you on the towel before carrying on with you.

In no way would he ever try to embarrass you over something like this, especially since he knows you're more emotionally sensitive right now and even the smallest amount of teasing might hit a little harder than intended. He looks at the overload of red smeared all over your cunt, on the folds, lathered over and through your slit, and streaked over your inner thighs. All he can think about is how cursed you must feel every once in a while to have to go through this every month. He's not stupid enough to think alike to those men who say they would bear the pain a lot better than women and that it's nothing compared to being kicked in the balls. He would take the pain for you in a heartbeat, but since science hasn't progressed so far to make that option a reality, he'll do what he can to help you in other ways.

You watch, intently, as Toji observes what he's seen plenty of times before. You feel different from every one of those times, despite him telling you that this time will be no different. You feel like your heart is about to lurch from your chest because all he's doing is looking. You know it's unappealing. You would give yourself to him entirely clean in this moment if you could.

"I wanna bury my face in there so badly. You know that?" He's so hard at the sight. His dick is twitching at the thought of using his tongue to clean you up. "I'll make it up to you in a couple days," he says, working his constricting boxers off. "Gonna feast on you. Hold these pretty thighs back when you try to crush my skull."

You don't think you've ever felt so withheld by him. Here he is, about to fuck you during one of the few days you refrain from letting him touch you this way, while talking about how badly he wants to devour you. You wouldn't call it unfair of him to tease you with this promise, he just has no other choice. Normally, his mouth is the first thing he gives you when things are getting hot and heavy, but for now, he can only use that mouth to kiss you and verbalize his desire.

"Don't look so nervous, doll," he says, his voice honeyed and his touch gentle on your skin, like he's shooing away all those negative thoughts that threaten your ability to enjoy this. "This is me taking care of you."

Toji did a good job of making you forget that this wasn't just normal sex. You were fed assurance, visually, audibly, and tactically. The second he thrusted into you and felt your incredibly warm and wet walls cling around him, his gaze darted up to meet your eyes. He looked back down for a split second when his hips pulled back, just to see the way you coated his shaft.

He understands that this is intense for you, that you're presenting yourself in a vulnerable state to him, but he's determined to make you understand that he will always try for you. It comes down to him knowing your wants and needs, and when they aren't so transparent, he counts on you to trustfully tell him about the things he can't openly assume.

He's overly generous with your pleasure, going on and on for you, chasing your orgasms with no intention of stopping until you tell him you've had enough. "Come on..." he groans, a deep chuckle following when he sees the way your arms are thrown over your face. "Come on, doll. Give me some attention." He's saying this because he's about to cum, again. He wants to look at you as he spews another load into you. He wants to see the expression on your face when you feel his cum overfill you, again. You lift your arms above your head and expose the way your chest heaves even more to him, but more importantly, the weary and glassy eyes he loves so much.

"Yeah, fuck... Just give me those eyes for a while, gorgeous." He's panting and his hips are stuttering as he stares you down, his lust-filled gaze giving you the illusion of being pressed into the mattress. One hand splays over your waist while the other focuses on nudging at your clit.

The added stimulation makes you jolt beneath his touch. It's heavenly and you want more, and you're right there. "F-Fuck... Fuck, please... Please!" you beg, feeling like you're melting beneath his touch. Your nails dig into the pillow beneath your head in an attempt to stay still for him.

"I know, mama. I know. I got you," he coos through choppy breaths, rubbing your clit fast enough to have you squirming against him. He watches dazedly as fresh crimson decorates his fingertips, anew. The pace of his hips becomes sporadic with his own peak nearing. He's about to bust again with the way your gummy, lubricated walls snuggly wrap around him.

With just a couple more thrusts and the ongoing stimulation offered to your clit, you gush all over him again, a mixture of your cum and blood rushing out of you and onto him before dripping onto the towel beneath you. "Oh my- T-Toji, oh fuck!" Your back arches off the bed, your head thrown back into the pillow as you cry out in pure ecstasy.

Toji is pulling you into his quickened thrusts, putting your tired, pretty body to work so that he can finish, too. He's following after you just a minute later, a deep, growl-like groan leaving him as more of his thick cum is shot into your ruined cunt. His chest rises and falls, long, heavy breaths exhaled through his parted lips. his neck glistens with sweat and dampened strands of hair stick to his forehead.

"How are your guts?" He asks, his words still somewhat breathy as he works to recompose himself after pulling out of you.

"Good," you respond, echoing back that tiredness. "Out of place, but good. That... that did it. No more pain." You think that if you shut your eyes for longer than ten seconds, you'll doze off. As if Toji would let you wake up feeling dirtier than you did before you let him get his hands on you.

"Hey," he calls, tapping your outer thigh. You hum in disapproval of having to open your eyes again. "Doll, we have to get you cleaned up." He taps you again.

"Five minutes," you whine, shutting your eyes tightly before pulling the pillow out from beneath your head and throwing it over your face.

"None of the whining, mama. It's for the best and you know it." He doesn't go on because you don't respond, presumably dozed off. He pulls the pillow off your face and becomes the target of your pointed gaze when light floods your vision again. "I'm not gonna stop bugging you until you get up." He's fighting the urge to tease you about wanting a kiss for that alluring pout on your lips. "Don't you wanna take a nice and cool shower with me?"

"I'm stuck," you groan, exaggeratedly dropping your arm after your feigned weak attempt to move more than a couple inches. "Can't... move."

"Your level of drama outshines the best actors, doll. I see right through it."

You can't even hold back a giggle at that. You clutch your chest and continue on with the theatrics. "Ouch. My stomach doesn't hurt anymore, but there's suddenly a really sharp pain in my chest. So, this is what taken back love feels like, huh?"

Toji snickers at the sound of your pathetic words as he crosses the ends of the towel over your lower body. Once the towel is wrapped securely, his arm goes beneath your knees, and the other settles on your lower back. With one swift motion, he lifts you off the bed and starts for the bathroom. He knew you had no intention of moving on your own, so he took the initiative. "Now you're a poet? You would never make it through heartbreak poetry." He looks down at you with a sly grin. "You would be making it all up, because you know how much I love your dramatic self."

You laugh. "Yeah... i'll never be a heartbreak poet." You don't sound like you're at a loss at all. You said it with a smile on your face. You've never been more happy to have lost a path like that.

"That's too bad, isn't it?"

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sweatervest-obsessed · 11 months ago

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Reader at the bar with the BAU and Spencer Reid, being really protective over him. Spence gets a little drunk, (I know it’s OOC but just imagine he let go for once!!!) and ends up laying in the booth with his head in reader’s chest and starts rambling to her, and the BAU tell him to shut up, but reader’s just like “no, keep talking.” While stroking his hair and he just looks up at her with an intoxicated, adoring, innocent look.

I love it.

Personally, I feel like is Spencer felt safe enough, he absolutely would drink. I don't think it happens often but...

Thank you for requesting!

"You're like, really pretty." Spencer whispered in your ear.

You smiled brightly and squeezed his thigh as you continued to talk with Derek across the table from you.

"I don't think you get told enough. "

Pausing your conversation meant that Spencer could now get full time attention from you, instead of this half-assed bullshit.

He took the pause as him moment to lay down across the booth and place his head in your lap.

"Uh Spence?"

"Mhm?"

"What are you doing?"

"Getting comfy."

You closed your eyes and shook your head. "Okay...but why."

He shrugged and kept his eyes closed. You took the opportunity to start running your hands through his hair, slightly massaging his head in the process.

"God I love you." He sighed out, contently.

"I love you too nerd. Anything else or can I finish talking to Derek."

Spencer scoffed, but didn't move.

"Okay my little lightweight."

"I don't think I've ever seen him drink, let alone get this drunk."

"Well Derek." You smiled up at him. "You get used to it."

"Used to it? Excuse you. I don't get this drunk often---" Spencer went to go sit up but you used your hand to gently shove him back down into your lap.

"Stay there champ. I'm not ready to deal with you vomiting just quite yet."

Spencer huffed but didn't move again, confirming your suspicion that getting up made him nauseous.

"Did you know that vomiting is a protective reflex, not just from choking hazards, but to expel viruses, bacteria, and parasites from your body."

You took another sip of your drink and nodded. "A parasite huh."

"Jesus Reid, some of us are drinking or eating here my god."

You reached over and flicked Derek in the arm, causing him to jump and grumbled at you.

"Don't be a dick Morgan."

"My hero." Spencer whispered from his place on your lap, before bursting into a fit of laughter, causing you to smile too.

Morgan, who had enough, gave you a quick (but sincere) smile, and left the booth, leaving the two of you alone.

"Now what were you saying there Spence."

Spencer pondered for a moment, losing his train of thought when your hand returned to his hair.

"D-Did you know dopamine is the hormone responsible for making decisions."

You hummed, and continued to run your hands through his hair. "I don't think I did, but it makes sense."

"Well it is also..."

"Also what Spencer."

"Have I ever told you about the history of alcohol? In Ancient Babylon they used to worship a wine goddess in as early as 2700 bce."

"I can do you one better Spence."

He scoffed. "Yeah okay sure. Derek doesn't call me Boy Genius for nothin." He grumbled.

"Well there's evidence of alcohol as early as 7000 bce in Ancient China."

"Well duh! I knew that....I just, uh, skipped forward, yeah..."

"Okay handsome. Tell me more about this wine goddess and the Ancient Babylonians."

Spencer would have spent the rest of his life with his head in your lap, and your hands in his hair, rambling off to you about anything and everything.

You would have spent the rest of your life with his head in your lap and your hands in his hair, listening.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid angst #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader fluff #spencer reid fluff #dr spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert

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coffee-and-tea-time · 5 months ago

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HEAR ME OUT: A LIMINAL SPACE BUT YANDERE

…we seem to have drifted from our original plans with this account-

I call dibs on the dilf then

No, back off, he's mine🤺

Word count: 1.6k (the very first long post) (subtle brag)

TW: hinted yandere behavior but soft since it's the introduction, monster/non-human, written in you/yours, don't expect it to make much sense it's a liminal space that we created with things that came along the way and a bit of the backrooms wiki, human! reader is confused but interested (willing? Mostly confused)

“ugh… What time is it?”

You go grab your phone, annoyed that your stomach managed to wake you up. Maybe you really do need to eat something before trying to go back to sleep, though it's too comfy being in the warmth of the blankets… still, a loud grumble from your belly ruined your plans, with no other option left, you sight and reluctantly got out of bed with your phone in hand, however, as you were making your way to go to the kitchen, you heard the distinctive ping of your phone's notifications which made you turn around to see… you have your phone in hand, why is there a replica of your phone on your bed?

You get closer, thinking it's surely something else and your eyes deceived you because of the dim lighting, when you grab that second ‘phone’ you got even more confused, is a perfect replica of your own, you even compared them both side to side wondering if you finally went insane but you didn’t get enough time to question your sanity as you start to feel extremely dizzy, like everything around you is spinning around so damn fast you can't even tell if you were the one moving or see properly at all, you close your eyes in hopes that it will prevent you from getting nauseous.

"Why is feeling so fucking chilly?"

You said in a shiver as you feel yourself fall, this time you know you are really moving, why? Because your face hits the snowy ground… Snowy ground?

You move yourself a little too fast for a person that just kissed the ground with so much force, all you can see around you is softly falling snow through what looks like a residential street.

The night sky a little too black, there were no lights that you could clearly see from just a swift look around, no stars, and… no clouds, the sky was pitch black, yet the houses were illuminated with a slight glow from moonlight even as the moon was nowhere in sight.

The place was eerie to say the least, the overwhelming quietness of it all almost a warning of danger. There were no sounds of people, no distant murmurs of far away conversation, no barks from pets, no chirping of shivering birds.

This place is nothing like any place you've ever been in but it still gives you a nostalgic feeling.

What can you do to return to your home?

You start walking, maybe you should knock on a house with the lights on? It can be dangerous but there aren't a lot of options, one thing is sure, when you return home, you're gonna go to the hospital for a check-up, mental or physical? You aren't sure yet.

You thoughts were stopped when you catch a silhouette not so far away, seems the darkness makes it hard to see properly, but it's seems like the shadow of a little girl making a snowman, the sight relieves you somewhat and you decide to approach, asking the little girl is far more secure that knocking on randoms doors.

"Excuse me, little miss! It seems like I got lost, is there an adult with you that can tell me which street this is?"

You said out loud, it seems like the little one hears you when she tilts her head a little and moves her arms around cutely, the girl seems eager for you to come closer although you can't really tell if she is looking at you or not, it's odd, even as you get closer, you still see a shadow more than a child.

And then, you feel a soft and cold touch on top of your head, the faint snowing plus the silence makes you feel like you could hear as the soft snowflakes fell around you, like your sense of hearing heightened from the sheer lack of any other sounds.

That being said, you couldn't help but jump when the loud sound of the door opening abruptly met your ears and even more when you hear like somebody is running behind you, you quickly look back but all you can see is snow and darkness.

You return your gaze to the child, and got even more taken aback to find a shadow shaped like a abnormally tall man with horns sticking out of the dark smoke that seems to shape his 'hair' in front of you, and in the blink of an eye, you were picked up by 'him', he ran faster that you ever thought was possible, before you can even breathe, you already were inside of a house still in the man's arms, his hands under your armpits cupping you up like a soggy cat.

You try not to panic, as you let your eyes inspect the place, only one thing is sure: if it is dangerous, it is better not to test his patience, horror movies taught you better than that.

You feel something really cold hugging your leg, you gaze slowly going downwards only to find what you think is the little girl you saw earlier… seems like your eyes didn’t trick you before, it is in fact, a silhouette, a pitch black outline of a child.

What in the world is going on?

Well, at least they seem to understand you, the little one let go of your leg and gestured, trying to explaining you everything with charades, you would find it very lovable and adorable in any other occasion; your focus on the kid quickly interrupted by the man's hold of you shifting, his hands coiling around you and pressing you to his chest in what felt like a hug, your feet don't even touch the ground, you can feel thought your pajamas the cold emanating from his.. body? Well, unlike his gastly looking hair, the rest of his body did feel more solid, seems like even shadows can have a sleeper build…

Wait, what?

Before you can think of anything else, your stomach growls, right, you were about to fetch yourself some food before you ended up here, though, their reaction to the grumble of your stomach amused you, how the tiny blank eyes of the little girl widened, them both freezing in a second of shock before the man ran again with you in his arms.

You can sense the toddler running after you two as the man runs into what seems like a rather luxurious kitchen, your bare feet finally meet the rather warm floor again although you still don't have time to relax as the shadow man tries to hurriedly feed you a spoonful of baking powder.

“I’m sorry but I can’t eat that…”

You anxiously try to explain why you can’t just eat baking powder, hoping he didn’t take it the wrong way and lucky for you, he seems more concerned than anything, his.. mouth? twitches making more of a weary expression, at least you think so as he hurried to open all of the cabinets and even the fridge, letting you look through everything to search for something you could actually eat.

You sense a gentle tug on your pajama's shirt, when you look down, you were met with the little girl shyly offering you a fruit that you can actually eat, so you gladly accept it, you can’t help but find the shadow duo cute as they start cheering between themselves, seemingly celebrating that they found something that you can eat, you kind of want to take a photo but well, you don’t have your phone and probably if you had it, you would be calling for help rather than recording cute moments.

You start to relax on the chair as you eat, the adrenaline slowly wearing off of your body and with that comes the pain, right, you slammed on the ground a few minutes ago, you feel your body between a state of numbness and pain, you can't help but to winche because of that, which make the duo approach you again quickly.

“Sorry, i-is nothing, I just… need some sleep”

You come up with a quick excuse, even though they are weirdly kind and seems harmless, just in case, it's better to avoid mentioning any injury or damage since you still don't 100% trust how they'd react, you trust the outside even less though. Your mind plays back to that running you heard behind you before the shadowy man took you away, the memory still sending shivers down your spine. To escape from them without proper knowledge of how things work here sounds dumb.

As you were lost in thought, the tall man scooped you up once again, this time his cold touch felt gentler than before, you start to wonder if he sees you as a cat of some sort but there is no use in asking since these creatures don't seem like they know how to speak.

He walked you upstairs into what seemed like the master bedroom and gently tucked you into the bed with a soft pat on your head, you start to sense that these shadows love being affectionate, a little touchy feely; Maybe is the contrast of his cold body with your warmer human body, you can’t really blame him, the smoke that he has for hair seems really soft to the touch too…

For better or for worse, he stood up straight again and start checking the lock on the windows, making sure they were well covered, only opening the door to invite the child in, who quickly layed besides you handing you a little book, a bedtime story, with a smile, You find endearing the fact they so eagerly want to hear a story, but a chill runs to your spine when you hear the tall man locking the door and then laying down on the other side of the bed beside you.

The night ends up peacefully although the exhaustion wins over your sense of self preservation, you slowly drifting off to sleep after reading the story to the little girl.

sorry for any misspellings or weird sentence structure ❣

images from pinterest

928 notes · View notes

lightwing-s · 9 months ago

Text

𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏𝐒

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐯 ; 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬

pairing: jason todd x fem! reader

summary: you're pregnant. somehow, your baby daddy has to find out about it.

word count: 5,6k warnings: pregnancy, mentions of abortion.

a/n: i wrote and rewrote this a lot, and I don't think this is the best I could come up with, but here it is. a lot more angst that previous episodes and I do recommend reading it while listening to The Flame by Valerie Deniz and also Give me Love by Ed Sheeran because I love how emotional that song usually makes me feel. Hope you all enjoy it ♡♡♡

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! ♡

links: previous ; next ; series masterlist ; general masterlist

With a deep sigh, you tried to settle down your nerves. Your hands were sore. Sweaty. Tired of trying. The heaviness still lingered on your chest. The feeling of incoming doom. The air all around was thicker than you’d remembered it for, nearly making it impossible for you to breathe. And you swore to your reflection in the mirror, you were gonna make it through.

It had been three nights since the result. Two days of pain. And one single thought looming in your mind. Pregnant. You’re pregnant. You didn’t know what to do, nor what to think. Sinking into a pit of terror and despair. The idea frightened you, tore you apart. And just thinking of your future, of what was to come from now on, made your head spin.

Today, you forced yourself to forget. Pretend your life was normal, like it used to be. Not Much had changed since you had taken the test three days ago, but to you it felt like everything was different.

You had skipped the gym the last couple of days, the first time doing it since you could remember, scared to face anybody and them finding out, but also too anxiety stricken to even leave your bed. You felt cramps, but also your stomach turning. You felt nauseous, but you weren’t sure if it was due to your newfound condition, or if it was the anxiety acting out.

Nessie had called, and you gave her some excuse that your boss needed you elsewhere. Another city. A quick work trip, you’d be back soon. At work, you told them you had caught some contagious disease you found on google, and they let you off for the entire week. Thankful for a relatively full pantry, you survived for two days on your own, but you sure couldn’t manage to eat much anyway.

You’ve never lived worst days. You were sure of that. Fear fills you to the brim. Sadness eats you up from the inside. And because of that, you felt even worse. There are so many people who dreamed of being where you were now, of getting a positive. So many have struggled for this. And here you were, ungrateful for yours. But you never wanted it in the first place. Not now, not like this. It didn’t follow your plan. It wasn’t perfect.

It wasn’t long ago that you were graduating college. And as of this moment, you were a mere assistant, not even a proper writer or a journalist yet like you’ve dreamed since you were little. An assistant. The bottom of the food chain, with still a lot to grow and harvest in your career. You neither had the finances, the stability, nor the time and mental capacity to be raising a baby on your own.

Because you would be raising it on your own, wouldn’t you? Your baby daddy would just disappear, like many others you’ve heard about. He would pack his things and disappear. He would live his life, continue with being young, having fun, while you were left to fend for yourself and your kid. All alone.

Would you even tell him? Should you even tell him?

Three nights. Three nights of torture. Of overthinking the future and sulking in your bed, your pillow drenched with your tears. You knew you’d go crazy if you kept that going for too long. So, finding some bit of courage, some tiny little ounce of determination, you left your bed that morning ready to forget. Ready to clear your mind, to make it think straight. And then, you wished, you would know what to do.

You showered, ate, did your skincare and put on makeup, and went for a walk around the park. But you just had to step out of your apartment to find someone who made you think instantly of him. Running back inside and leaving your raven haired neighbor staring confused at you, you made a beeline to the bathroom, dropping your entire breakfast in the toilet.

You had to tell him, hadn’t you? You had to tell Jason. It was the right thing to do, right?

So, here you were. Back at the gym you’d quit a month ago in favor of another. All because of your last encounter. You thought it was the best to be done, remove him entirely from your life so you could be free again. If only you had known then where you’d be a month later, you’d have laughed at the irony the world was throwing at you. You still remembered the times he’d come, praying he didn’t have them changed for some reason. Maybe he wanted to avoid you too. Maybe he had quit. Please, God. Be on my side, only for today.

It had been, perhaps, a full hour since you arrived. Roy had greeted you with a large smile, asking if you were back for good. You couldn’t match his enthusiasm, offering him a poor excuse of your own smile instead. All this time, you couldn’t complete a full set, never mind finish an entire exercise. Your body trembled, not answering you. Too exhausted. The heaviness on your chest helped in weighing you down and making every effort insufficient.

The weights you had tried to use now stood on your feet. Crooked, disordered, unorganized. Then, you found yourself looking at your reflection in the mirror. Your eyes were red and swollen. Your lips were dry and exposed some nervous bite marks you’d been taking off them. There were a few pimples on your forehead, and you had bags under your eyes. In the corner of the mirror, too stood the reflection of the one you’d been looking for.

He chatted with another man. It wasn’t Roy, by the darker hair color and shorter size. Yet it was a face you recognized, but failed to name. Jason looked happy, smiling as he spoke excitedly about something you did not know about. Were you really ready to tell him? Were you okay with ceasing his happiness?

Your eyes lingered on him for longer, and eventually, his eyes found yours. His smile was quickly replaced by a frown. An air of disgust and anger. His tongue poked his cheek, and he rolled his eyes at you. Turning around, he decided that facing the other direction was much better than facing you. Now, his broad back was all you were left to stare at.

You felt the nausea return. Leaving your things behind, you rushed to the restroom. He hated you. He hated you and he was fucking right for it. And what were you thinking? Telling him he was going to be a father, to your baby above all, at the fucking gym?

After dumping your stomach in the toilet once more, you wanted to get out of there. Collecting your things and shoving them inside your bag, you headed out. However, in good old fashion, you felt a body stop as it came in contact with someone else’s. You didn’t have to look up to know who it was. Eyeing you from above, Jason started to apologize before he could recognize who you were, proceeding to roll his eyes again. You excused yourself, still looking away from him, and his demeanor changed from anger to worry.

“Yn, are you alright?” he inquired, reaching for your arm. You felt your eyes start to burn, the tears finding their way back, and the nausea only got worse. Running past him, all you managed to say was a quick “I’m fine,” before disappearing.

You arrived at his building straight away, using the faint memory of the directions that remained in your brain from the night he brought you here. You were still clad in your gym clothes, not caring to stop at home first, nor remembering to actually do it. But it was fine, because you didn’t sweat anyways. You couldn’t even finish one full exercise in the hour or so you were there.

So you waited. You waited on the opposite sidewalk, thinking back to the first time you came here. It was almost two months ago, or maybe more, you don’t remember exactly. It seemed longer, though. It all seemed longer. Longer than two months. Longer than three days. It all seemed like an eternity.

The sun waved goodbye on the horizon, hiding between Gotham’s skyline. The weather started to shift, as the warmth of summer slowly gave place to the strong winds and the coolness of the autumn days. The breeze made you wish you had brought a coat or something to keep you warm, the thin gym clothes you wore doing nothing to help you. And so, your body shivered.

Shivered from the cold. Shivered from the fear. The agony you’d so desperately tried to keep away returning back to you. If you went up. If you knocked on his door. If you talked to him, there was no pretending anymore. There was no hiding facts you so wished you could. There was no fighting reality.

A lump formed in your throat, and you tried to swallow it away, to no avail. Your breath, your hands, your legs, your all trembled. Fighting to keep yourself up when all you wanted was to fall down, to curl up under your covers and hide from the world. From the truth.

You thought back to the days when things were easier. To your days at the park, playing around with your friends, the hem of your jeans always dirty from mud, dust or paint. You remembered the days all you had to do was study, your chores, and your drawings. Reading books from sunrise to sundown, or for the entire night. Of when responsibilities didn’t follow you everywhere, and the perspective of the future didn’t break you down.

You thought of your parents. Of how mad they would get. There was always a path to them, a way to follow. A way to live your entire life. Just like they had done theirs. Any step out of that line often led you to trouble. ‘You have to get married to a good and respectful husband. One that will care and provide for you. And then, when the time is right, God will give you children to raise, just like he did to me and your father,’ your mother would tell you. ‘There’s nothing more shameful than a single mother’, were once the words of your father. And the thought of what they’d do to you once they found out had your tears rolling down faster than you could hold them in.

An old lady passed by you, asked if you were okay. You lied, like you’d been doing for the past few days. You weren’t one for lying, never was, and suddenly it was all you did. “Oh dear,” she cooed, and embraced you in an unexpected hug, before her tiny pomsky pulled her away.

Grey took over your surroundings, like one of those movie filters that left everything somber. A single headlight of a motorcycle let you know he was finally here. That the time of truth was upon you. You watched him park his motorcycle like a creep. Hidden in a dark corner, away from his sight. He had showered at the gym, and now wore a different outfit. Sweatpants and a hoodie.

He looked comfortable. You clearly weren’t. He looked happy. Opposite to you. Were you ready to take all that away from him? To curse him to the same pain and anxiety you were feeling now?

But you couldn’t do it alone. You couldn’t. You needed him. You needed him. You needed him by your side. You need someone, something. Something to tell you everything would be okay. Gathering up all your courage, every bit you could find within yourself, you took one step out of the sidewalk.

A deep breath taken before entering the building, you walked in without ceasing to cry. Each step you took up the stairs was heavy. Heavier than when you were drunk, and heavier than the day you left. Each step was a gulp. Each gulp was a scream inside your brain telling you to turn around. About two or three times along the way you stopped to look down, and wondered what would be of you if you’d just ran away.

In your mind, you counted each and every step. An attempt to clear it of thought. It obviously didn’t work. Your legs shook and your breathing faltered with the last steps you took to reach the sixth floor. The tears had dried, leaving your skin cold to the touch. You moved on automatic. Everything else you did a blank stain in your memory.

It was the feeling of the hardwood under your knuckles that brought you back to reality. The hollow sound it made woke you up, showing you’d made it to his door. Your breath got stuck in your throat, and you felt like you could vomit.

He took his time to answer the door. And you wondered if it was a sign to turn around. To leave. But your feet wouldn’t move, even if you screamed at them to do so. The ruffling inside the apartment made your heart jump, beating hard in its place. Your breathing halted, trapped in your larynx, as the tears started rapidly falling down again.

When he opened the door, it was like time had stopped. He assessed you through narrow eyes, still angry at you. You didn’t blame him, not at all.

“They run from you twice and still come right back,” he hissed. His voice was hoarse and monotone, and his eyes found yours in a blank stare. The corners of your mouth fell. Your chin trembled. And had to avert your eyes from him otherwise you’d start sobbing all over again. “Yn,” he called, and his voice didn’t show the hate or disgust anymore. It was worried. It felt pain. Softer and watchfull. “What happened?”

You took a deep breath, swallowing down the tears. Trying so hard to keep them in, but the drops that fell beside your sneakers on the floor were a testament of how your body had stopped responding to you a long time ago. Your shoulders shook, and Jason went from worried to desperate. He didn’t know what was going on. But seeing you like this made him freak out.

And suddenly he wasn’t mad at you anymore. In retrospect, maybe he never truly was. But whatever anger, or frustration he had disappeared from his body. You felt his touch on your shoulder, and you imagined he had just put one hand there as a sign of support. You’d be thankful for just that. But then, you felt his arms drawing you close, wrapping around you, until you felt the soft cotton of his hoodie through your cheek.

The tears ran down faster, soaking a spot on the thick fabric. Your loud sobs only made Jason pull you closer, not knowing how, but still trying to call you down. Whatever happened was too bad that you’d run to him of all people, and he felt obligated to help you in any way he could.

By this point, he was holding you up himself. Your body giving in to the tears. Jason tucked his nose in your hair, breathing in the sweet scent of your shampoo. He caressed your back, kissed you temple, spread warmth through your body with his own hands rubbing at your arms. However, your tears ceased to stop, making the stain under your eyes enlarge, second after second.

“Yn,” he whispered right into your ear. The air he let out hitting against your skin.

You pressed your eyes shut. The tears that still lingered there being forced out. You tightened your hold on him. He called you again, and forced his neck to get a glimpse of your puffy red eyes.

You didn’t want to let go, but forced yourself to push him away just so you could finally face him. You felt your throat dry, a weak cough trying to fix it up. Jason couldn’t help the quick thought of how pretty you looked when you cried, but he felt so much pain in his chest at the same time that he wished he would never see you like that again.

The first time you opened your mouth, nothing came out of it. Jason’s fingers drew figures on your back, both a distraction and an encouragement. You can do it, you can do it. With another deep, long breath, you slowly opened your eyes to meet his.

“I-I’m…” you started, breathless. A single tear late to fall from your eyes. “I’m pregnant.”

Jason’s mind went blank. His body was suddenly weightless. The moments past your announcement, a mere stain in his memory. You now sat beside him on his sofa, your hands covering your face as he heard continuous sobs coming out of you. Your knees tight against your chest, and it didn’t bother him you had your shoes on the sofa. Nothing bothered him. Nothing was on his mind.

Your body quivered, nonstop. His own unresponsive. What the hell did he do?

Pregnant. Eight letters that had the power to change everything. Pregnant. You were pregnant. With his baby.

Jason felt his chest tighten, and breathing suddenly was harder. He tried swallowing the knot in his throat away, but it wouldn’t bulge. Resting his back on the sofa, a hand threading through his hair, he allowed a couple of tears out, rubbing his eyes off any others that dared to hang around.

“Are you sure?” he asked, breaking the prolonged silence with a raspy voice. Moving your head from it’s place buried on your knees, your eyes looked at him with a pain he’d have thought he’d put a knife on your back. “It’s not that I don’t trust you,” he told you softly. “I just want to be sure.”

Straightening beside him, you stared at the cat worriedly looking up at the two humans occupying the sofa. You fiddled with your fingers, pulling at the fabric of your leggings.

“I took a test,” you started to explain. “Three nights ago. And my period was late, and it’s never late. And it’s not like we were careful when we…”

“Not at all.” Jason shook his head. You weren’t careful at all.

The room fell into silence again, the only sounds coming from the cat, now playing between his legs, unaware of the turmoil you’d just caused in his life.

“I’m sorry,” you said, resuming your sobs. “I’m so sorry.”

“No, no,” Jason kept saying. He turned on the sofa, sitting in a position he could easily wrap his arms around you once again. “No, Yn. Don’t be sorry. There’s nothing to be sorry about,” he soothed.

“Jason,” you called him, your voice broken. “How there’s not? I’m fucking pregnant!”

Jason held you tighter. But the truth was, he might’ve been just as scared as you were. A baby meant a new life, responsibilities. And he was still getting used to being an adult and the responsibilities that came with that. It was all going to change. And he had plans…

The two of you stood there until your sobs had quieted down. You didn’t know how long, but you were grateful he was quiet for the entire time. You were thankful he was quiet instead of telling you any of the things you’d thought he would. And you were also thankful he didn’t close his door on your face.

“Have you thought…” Jason tried to speak, but his voice kept on breaking. “Have you thought… of all possibilities?”

He hoped you understood what he meant, because he couldn’t bring himself to say it. It was a hard thing to ask, but he had to. He didn’t want you to think he was pushing you to it, but he needed to know if it was a possibility too. Jason remembered hearing some friends saying they had their girlfriends do it, that they basically forced them. But Jason would never.

He felt you moving on his chest, pushing yourself away from his body, and his breath halted. “It’s your call,” he whispered. “I’ll be there for any of them.”

You had sat back up, hands tugging at your leggings again while you thought. It took you long to answer. Too long for his liking. But he understood your pace, everything was happening way too fast. You needed to think things through. For some reason, his stomach took turns, making him feel sick as he waited.

“I don’t think I could do it,” you stated, staring blankly at your legs. “I don’t think I could end it.” Jason let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. A lightness on his chest he could not name. He nodded, as words didn’t make it out of his lips.

Leaning back on the sofa, you felt his shoulders hit yours. He let out another breath, it was long and you found it hard to read his emotions through it. He was silent beside you, making it even harder for you to guess what was going through his mind.

That’s it, he’s gonna tell you he can’t do it either. He’s gonna leave you alone.

“You just took one test?” he asked after a while. You just nodded. “We should go to the hospital,” he suggested, head turned to watch you. “Get a proper test, just to make sure.”

His suggestion made you hurt. The fact that he doubted you, the fact he thought you’d go to him if you weren’t a hundred percent sure, caused you a pain you did not expect. However, on the other hand, you knew he was right. You had to be certain. False positives happen, right? You could be wrong.

“Okay,” you agreed weakly, turning to face him after all. “I’ll do it.”

It might have been the uncomfortable chairs or the freezing air conditioning, but the time didn’t seem to pass. It was well over an hour since you’d arrived at the hospital, and you’d stopped counting how much you’ve waited for your test results to come out. They said between thirty minutes to an hour, but you were sure it had been longer than that.

While you remained seated for most of your wait, Jason was restless. He stood up and sat down more times than you remember, and he was seriously starting to piss you off with his pacing. Stopping in front of a snack machine, he put some dollar bills in it and took something with him before walking back to you.

Stretching his arm in front of you, he offered both a granola and a Snickers bar. In no mood to be healthy, even though your possible new condition sort of demanded that from you, you took the chocolate gladly.

Jason dropped down on a chair beside you with a huff, and took a bite of the granola bar with a certain annoyance. You were both tired of waiting, that was for sure. The agony you’d felt earlier had simmered down, but you too now sat restless, one of your legs shaking incessantly.

It was involuntary, but Jason’s hand on your knee made it stop. It lingered there for a while, fingertips gracing over the thin fabric and tugging at it just like you had been doing before. You saw his head move, and so did yours, catching his eyes.

Your expressions had been everywhere tonight. The whirlwind of emotions you had gone through justifying each and everyone of them. But this time, his eyes bore into yours much softer, sweeter than they’d been before.

“Yn,” he called your name as if you hadn’t been staring down at him for what seemed like forever. “Whatever happens. Whatever the results say. I’ll be here, alright? I won’t leave you.”

The sincerity in his tone made your eyes tearful once more, but this time you managed to hold them in. You gave him a soft smile, and you were really glad he was here with you now. Putting a hand on top of his, he flipped it over so you could interlace your fingers, caressing its back with your thumb just like he was doing to you.

It was then that your name was called, both of your heads snapping in the reception desk’s direction. Jason stood up and walked over, grabbing a single piece of paper before walking back to you with even taking a glance at it.

When he sat back, he offered you his opened hand. You intertwined your fingers, and held his with both your hands, taking it closer to your heart this time. You couldn’t deny the tiny bit of hope lingering inside you that, just perhaps, you were actually wrong. You weren’t pregnant. But, over the hours, you’d also grown accustomed to the idea. He opened the results with between his thumb and pointer finger, and both your eyes fell on the big letters found on top of it.

Positive. Again. It was positive. You were truly pregnant.

You let out a sigh, closing your eyes to stop the tears from returning. Jason’s hold on you tightened, and you could sense the tension on him returning. He buffed some air out through his mouth, taking another deep breath before doing the same thing again.

“That’s it,” his voice was shaky. “You’re really pregnant.” He forced himself to smile, and you tried to do the same. To no avail. His eyebrows furrowed. “What do we do now?”

“I don’t know,” you replied honestly. “I just wanna go home. It’s been a long night.”

“Okay,” he said softly, standing up and walking with you hand in hand till you left the hospital.

The parking lot was almost empty, and you found Jason’s car sitting isolated far ahead. The silver Toyota Supra shone under the faint light of a lamp post, and you remembered how surprised you were to find him driving it. It finally occurred to you that other than his name and his gym membership, you knew nothing about the man you were about to have a baby with.

He didn’t know you either. Gosh, you didn’t know a thing at this point. About him, about pregnancy, about babies and having children. He asked you ‘what now?’ and you didn’t even have an answer. How the hell were you going to do it?

When he felt your fingers leaving his, Jason immediately turned to face you. Frozen in place and flooded eyes.

“I don’t think I can do it,” you said breathlessly. “Jason, I don't think I can do it. I never wanted kids. I mean, I’ve never really thought about it. I didn’t want it now. I wanted to do it all right. This is not it.” You cried once again, rambling the words that left your mouth. Jason had walked over to you, trying to calm you down and wipe the tears off your face. “I don’t know anything about babies. I’ve only babysat before, but they were much older. And even my nephew, I didn’t meet him until he was, like, six months old. And I don’t know shit about pregnancies. I hated biology. I slept a lot during classes.”

“How can we do it? I barely know you. Gosh I don’t even know your surname, Jason. You’re what, Jason fucking Linetti? How can we have a baby together without knowing each other? We’re supposed to build a family together. A family. My family… I-I never had a family. Not really. I didn’t want a family, Jason. Not now. I don’t think I can do it.”

“Hey, hey,” he cooed, stopping your rambling. He cupped your cheeks with both his hands, holding your face. His forehead rested on yours, forcing you to stare him in the eyes. “I also don’t know what the fuck I’m gonna do. For fucks sake, Yn. But we have time. The baby is not gonna come tomorrow. We’ll figure things out. Together. We have each other, alright? You have me. I’ll be here, with you, all along. You don’t have to worry. We’ll learn how to do this together, and with time. Okay?”

Jason’s dark eyes passed you enough confidence to have you thinking that, maybe, possibly, he was right. You could actually do it. The baby isn’t coming tomorrow, you have time. You’ll figure things out. With Jason. Together.

Slowly, you nodded. You could do it, right?

Jason sighed, relieved you actually believed him, because as of right now, he himself was struggling to do so. Giving your head a long kiss, he pulled you into a hug before pulling away to open his car door to you to enter. Dropping on the driver seat beside you, you desperately waited to get back home.

“I’m Jason Peter Todd. I’m 22 years old. A leo. I work as an exercise physiologist, but I want to be a doctor someday. So I’m working on getting into med school soon. I love motorcycles, they are fucking cool and driving them makes me feel free. I have probably over twenty tattoos and my favorite book is probably Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen.”

“What was that for?” You gave him an amused smile.

“You said you didn’t know me or my surname. Now you do, and you can say you know a little. If you want my social security number too, it’s 108…”

“It’s okay,” you laughed, softly, for the first time in three days. “I guess knowing your surname is fine for now.”

He gave you a smile, but raised one eyebrow at you. Confused, you frowned, trying to understand what he meant until he pointed at you with his head, leading you to do the same as he did.

“Okay,” you started. “I’m Yn Sn. I work at Runaway Magazine as Sandra’s assistant, but I really want to be a journalist. I don’t have any tattoos because I’m afraid of needles, and I can’t choose a favorite book because I like too many.”

“Nice to meet you Yn Sn,” he greeted, extending his hand for you to shake.

“Nice to meet you too, Jason Todd. Now can you please take me home. I’m exhausted.”

“Alright,” he gave you a smirk. “Do you remember the address this time?”

He insisted on walking you to your door, wanting to make sure you actually got home safe. You didn’t know where he thought you could disappear to between the sidewalk and your apartment door, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t starting to enjoy his company.

The elevator ride was silent, and neither of you spoke as you tried to unlock your front door.

“Thank god,” you said. Relief spread through you as the door opened and you got into your home. Immediately taking off your sneakers, you placed them by the door so they could keep it open for you. Looking back at Jason, who still didn’t dare step inside your apartment, you managed to give him a thankful smile. “And thank you too, Jason.”

“You don’t have to thank me. It’s not even the least I can do, it’s my responsibility now.”

“But still, thank you. There were many ways out for you, and you took none,” you explained, resting your shoulder on the door frame.

“Yn, you didn’t make this baby alone” he began. “I saw your state when you knocked on my door, and I also made you a promise. I don’t usually break them.”

For a brief minute, you two stood in silence again. Eyes lingering over each other. A recognizable tension in the air. You averted your eyes from him, as warmth engulfed your cheeks, the painted nails on your toes suddenly a lot more interesting to you.

“I’ll be going then. Call me if you need anything, alright?” he said, already halfway to the elevator.

“Jason,” you called and he turned back. Hopeful. “Do you even have my number?”

He stopped to think, and a dumb smile appeared on his face upon realizing he had never asked you for your number, nor did he ever give you his. Taking his phone out of his sweatpants pockets, he handed it to you. “If you don’t mind. I think I really should have your number.” He combed a hand through his hair.

You typed in your phone number, trying to think of what to write your name as, but concluding your name would be just fine. You gave yourself a call so you could save his too later, and returned him his cellphone.

He awkwardly waved you goodbye, and called the elevator that opened up instantly, not having left your floor since you had gotten home. You watched him as the door began to close, head hanging low and a tired demeanor.

“Jason?” you called again, and he put his hand on the door just as it was about to fully close. It opened again, and he placed his hands on each side of the door frame. “Thank you,” you said softly.

“Stop thanking me,” he laughed and now allowed the door to close.

You stood there, dumbfoundedly watching the closed door as you swiftly repeated the entire night in your head. Every moment of pain, despair and torture morphing into nervous expectation of the future that was about to come.

You didn’t allow yourself to think too much about it. An entire day was already enough, you needed rest.

A rumbling beside you grabbed your attention, and your head turned to your friend’s door. Nessie poked her head out, clearly surprised to see you there.

“Weren’t you on a trip?” she asked, and you shook your head, leaving her a lot more confused.

“There’s so much we need to talk,” you sighed, allowing your weight to fall on her as you engulfed her in a tight hug.

tag list: @igotanidea ; @acornacreacure ; @erochuu ; @gone-batty-fics ; @jasontoddslover ; @jkvolgs ; @just-lost-inbetween-worlds ; @killxz ; @kysrion ; @loonymoonystuff ; @munimunni ; @novs9011 ; @spideytingley ; @starcrossedtrek ; @strawberryforks ; @sttrawberries ; @vanillaattack ; @veryfabday ; @vissavin @xxsweetnlowxx ; @willieoo ; @wordsfromshona

#jason todd au #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #jason todd #jason todd x you #jason todd fluff #jason todd x yn #jason todd x y/n #jason todd imagines #jason todd blurb #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x female!reader

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serxinns · 6 months ago

Note

OOOO OGMVOVM SO IDEA:

YANDERE CLASS 1-A IS LIKE SO OBSESSED WITH READER BUT SHE HATES THEM ALL AND AVOIDS THEM, WHAT WOULD THEY DO ABT THIS?

You hated them... you hated them all they were just too overbearing! The flirting thr kissing the unwanted touching everything and whenever you told them to fuck off they'll just coo and baby you saying "thats very mean! Darling! "

They kept always crowded around you it's no surprise there Iida always insisted on study dates every chance you could get your mom would always pressure you to join her private tea party and insist it would be just the two of us the way she said it creeper you out so you would always make excuses or just awkwardly walk away leaving her confused and a bit pissed. Denki is always on your ass whether it be teasing or playing around he kept clinging to you like some puppy it was Cringe honestly...

Izuku yapping about heroes even if you weren't listening, Kirishima and Shoji trying to show off by flexing their muscles, Mina or Hakagure always gripping your arm too tight or hugging you until you couldn't breathe and you had to hit them harshly on the back and they dared to complain about it Aoyama guy always trying to stuff your face with cheese even tho the smell of cheese makes you nauseous, ochako was ok untill she started making me go bake with her and suprise suprise! Momo joins her and it always turn into some competition about anything which takes the fun out of baking

You couldn't even talk to your other friend in PEACE shinsou was your go-to friend ever since your classmates started being overbearing you would rant for hours about them and he'd listen heck he let you chill in his dorms for a while or longer you couldn't be asked for a better friend, but back to the story you were just peacefully talking to shiso at lunch until bakugo and his petty little gang came over there everyone smiling at me expect bakugo ofc just glaring at me like I did something wrong, "is.. there a problem?"

"You damn right it's a problem! Your sitting with hyno shit over there!" He said pointing at Shinso "Bakubro that's not very manly!" He said in a stern tone but you had a feeling he wasn't scolding him, "what everyone's trying to say come sit with us y/n you don't have to be alone!" Mina said in a fake sickly sweet voice I swore I saw her eye twitch a bit but you didn't back down easily "im not alone tho I got shinso and I'm fine where I'm at you can eat your lunch and have fun without me" the squad got silence and awkwardly walked away but sending one final glare at shiso

Another time when you were talking with Kendo and Monoma at 2nd you kinda disliked Monoma or thought he was some crazy lunatic just because he kept ripping on your classmates but the 2 of you weirdly got along mostly because of your distasteful experience with your classmates, if the two of you weren't ranting about how your classmates were, the two of you would talk about hero stuff (mostly monoma bragging about being the best hero) or just talking about your interests and laughing at Monoma's antics and chaoticness

Kendo on the other hand made you feel like you had a friend she knows how overbearing and overwhelming your classmates get, so she would try to pull you away as best as she could despite the glares, snarls, and scowls she swore she heard from them she still wanted to help you one day you were dragged by hakagure and Mina to go to their room to play games but Kendo quickly grabbed the back of your shirt with paint hands to pulled you away "sorry gotta borrow them for a sec!" And quickly ran off

"Thx kendo I was about to snap at them and cause a scene" She smiled at you "No problem! I felt you were uncomfortable and had to do something ugh those classmates never leave you alone huh?" You chuckled your so grateful to have a friend like Kendo "anyways let's hurry and go to this "awesome" place monoma keep spamming my phone about" you playfully rolled you eyes and walked with Kendo

Meanwhile your classmates glared at the window Cleary pissed off it "seems like those pest need a lesson.." izuku said voice laced with vemon

#yandere bnha #yandere ua #tw yandere #yandere x reader #tw obsessive behavior #yandere class 1a #yandere mha #bnha fluff #bnha angst #tw unhealthy obsession #tw unconusenal touch #tw gaslighting #overbearing #toxic behaviors #itsuka kendou #monoma neito

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softxsuki · 28 days ago

Note

heyy kinda urgent request ^^

i have starvation bulimia n its gotten to the point where ive started fainting at random times, its as if my bodys giving up on me

could i have smt comforting w oikawa, kageyama and/or kenma (im totally fine w js one or twoo💗)

lyl 🌺

Oikawa, Kageyama, and Kenma (Separate) With Reader Who's Bulimic

please don't read if mentions of bulimia, food, or starving yourself will trigger you

Warnings: bulimia, reader starving herself, fainting, feeling ill, food, vomitting

Note: Did all three for you <3 Hope this helps :)

Oikawa:

Oikawa is very into himself, but being the captain of his volleyball team, he’s very observant

You’re one of the few people he actually cares about, so when you started acting differently, he picked up on it pretty quickly

One specific day you had shown up to one of his games, giving him a peck on the cheek for good luck like you usually did, but he could see how drained you looked

You had blamed it on a lack of sleep, but he knew that wasn’t the truth as you took your place on the bleachers, cheering him on with what little energy you could muster up

About half way into the game, your persistent rumbling in your stomach that you had been ignoring since purging your food last night seemed to catch up to you

One second you were watching the game, and the next you were on the ground, staring up at the ceiling

A few people around you had surrounded you to help you up, and seeing the commotion from the court, Oikawa tapped out of the game, having someone take his place as he races up to the bleachers to get to you

“I knew you weren’t okay,” he grits, helping you off the ground. “Let’s go”

He guides you away from the crowd of people, who quickly turn their attention to the match

Guilt eats away at you that you’d taken him away from his game

“Toru, I’m fine. You can go back to your game, I just got a little dizzy”

“You’re not fine. Stop brushing this off as something else. Can’t you trust me and let me know what’s going on? I know something’s wrong, but I can’t help you if you don’t let me in”

You’d never seen this man so eager to help in his life, so you swallow your pride and open up to him very briefly about what’s been going on with you

How you go from starving yourself to binge eating and making yourself throw your food back up; you express how badly you felt about yourself and why you do it

Oikawa listens to every word you have to say, holding you gently as if you’d collapse in his arms if he squeezed too tight

Slowly, everything seemed to piece together in his head thanks to your opening up to him–your drowsiness, fainting today, how thin you’d gotten compared to the first day he’d met you, it all made sense now

He hugs you gently, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, thanking you for finally telling him

You knew then and there that he’d never judge you about this, and from that day forward he did his best to support you and slowly help you get over this bump in your life

Reminding you everyday that you were perfect, and eating meals with you, reassuring you that it was okay

Slowly destroying yourself would not happen with him, he’d make sure you built a healthy relationship with food again, not matter how long it would take

Kageyama:

Kageyama is pretty similar to Oikawa in that he’s very observant, which he needs to be as a setter on his team

He’d realized something was wrong when you’d always excuse yourself to the bathroom after every meal you’d shared together

But one specific evening, he decided to follow after you without being seen

It was at a restaurant with a private bathroom, so as you went in, he waited outside where he eventually heard the retching noises of you throwing up your food

You hadn’t looked sick or nauseous when you got up to go to the restroom, so he assumed this was a regular thing for you

He waited outside until you came back out, seeing the way your eyes widened when you saw him, before composing yourself

“D-did you need to use it as well? Go ahead,” you say slowly, moving to walk back to the table, but Kageyama silently takes your hand and leads you out of the restaurant, already having taken care of the bill

It’s only when the two of you are wordlessly walking side by side, leading you back home when he speaks up

“How often do you do it?” He asks lowly, shoving his hands in his pockets

He knew. Of course he knew, there was no going around it now as you sigh softly to yourself, kicking imaginary rocks as you walk by his side

“It’s different each time…I guess it just depends on how I feel after I eat. Sometimes I just try and go without eating, but that makes me feel physically ill…” you explain slowly, scared to meet his eyes

Kageyama comes to a halt, taking your hand to make you stop as well, lifting your chin so you could meet his eyes

“There’s no need to feel bad about it. I may not understand why you’d choose to do this, but now that I know, I can try and help,” he says softly, giving your hand a squeeze. “Promise me you’ll come to be first before taking matters into your own hands next time”

You make that promise to him, almost relieved that he now knew, there was nothing to hide from him now

The following days, Kageyama spent his free time learning more about what you were going through, and asking you how he could be of help

Kenma:

It takes Kenma a little longer to know something is going on with you

He finally notices something is wrong when you keep denying to eat with him, and that makes him realize that he’s never actually seen you eat in front of him

You were over at his place while he played games when he heard your stomach rumble, causing him to pause his game and turn around to face you, setting his remote down

“Wanna eat something? I’m getting a little hungry,” he says slowly, gauging how you’ll react

When you shake your head no, he sighs and joins you on his bed, giving your cheek a gentle poke

“I heard your stomach growl dummy, why haven’t you been eating?” He asks innocently, no sign of judgment or malice in his expression, but that question makes you freeze

“Fine then I’ll have something small…”

“No, you weren’t going to eat, tell me why”

He’s very stubborn and insistent and won’t leave you alone until you tell him what’s going on

Once you realize staying quiet will get you nowhere, you tell him what you’ve been going through

He’s confused as to why you’d feel this way when you were and still are perfect in his eyes

Things are simple for Kenma, but this was something he didn’t really understand much about, so he’d ask you questions and hum in thought as you answer him

He’d pull you into his arms as you continue to talk, cuddling into you as he continues to grunt in response

“Sorry I didn’t notice…” he mumbles into your neck, nuzzling into you like a cat. “I don’t entirely understand why this is happening, but promise me you’ll let me try and help you. I don’t want you to get sick from starving yourself, or to faint and hit your head if that ever happens when you’re not with me…so let’s beat this boss villain together”

Of course, referencing everything to a video game means Kenma is really serious about this, and together you’d become victorious in this vicious game of life

Posted: 10/7/2024

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miniteezez · 1 year ago

Text

22:55

Choi San x Fem!Reader

Wc: 2.9k

Warnings: sexual harrasment

Synopsis: after being left traveling alone, everything takes a turn when you meet a kind stranger.

part 2 part 3

You hated it. You hated the whole situation you found yourself in. Due to a clash in schedules, instead of travelling with your family this year, you had to go a week later. Alone. Even if you weren't a child, you'd never got a plane alone before. So here you were, sat by the gate waiting anxiously for boarding information. You just wanted to get on the plane. The quicker you got on, the quicker it would be over. Everyone around you seemed so happy, excited for their upcoming holiday. Or maybe they were returning home after a long trip. Why wasn't the screen changing? It was past your schedule time. You dreaded to think of who you'd end up next to on the plane. Luckily, you had an Isle seat. Either way, you just felt so alone. A sharp ring from the intercoms caught everyone's attention, alerting passengers to look for boarding information. You looked, your heart sunk.

𝘍𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘺𝘦𝘥 𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘭 22:55

That was six hours away. Biting your lip, you watched as the other passengers left the gate in annoyance. Either going to the airport Hotel or one of the many places to eat. You couldn't bring yourself to move. Six hours longer, stuck there, alone. Picking at the fibers of your denim shorts, you wracked your brain for something to do. Just sit there? Waiting. No, because the gate would most likely change. Go get food? No, you felt so anxious it was making you nauseous.

"Excuse me?" A male voice broke you from your thoughts. Looking up, you found a young man standing in front of you. Wearing a large, very large but very warm looking, grey hoodie with the hood up. Red hair poked out the front, falling over his forehead and some over his eyes. Accompanied with oversized lightwash jeans and black converse, you were jealous of how comfortable the man looked. His face held a kind smile, but his eyes showed he was nervous.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. I was just wondering, are you travelling alone?" Seeing the look of confusion on your face, he carried on talking quickly.

"I'm just asking because I am too. And I was wondering, if you wanted to come get some food with me? You know, so we're both not alone." Understanding now, why he had approached you, you contemplated it. The man didn't look like a murderer. He seemed to be friendly.

"Feel free to say no. You just look a little on edge." Hearing this, you smiled bashfully at the stranger.

"Just a bit. Sorry." Shaking his head, the man looked as though he understood.

"Dont apologise, I get it. So, what do you say? Crappy Airport food?" Giggling at his words, you found yourself nodding and standing up.

"Sounds better than sitting on my own. I'm (y/n) by the way." Clearly relieved you had agreed, he beamed at you as you took hold of your travel bag.

"San. Nice to meet you." 'San' took a few steps backwards, just to make sure you were following, then turned on his heal to carry on.

"Theres a few cafés? In the mood for something sweet?" He asked, gazing over at you.

"Always." You replied, maybe a little to quickly. But San just chuckled, leading you both into the, surprisingly empty, cafe. Finding two worn down armchairs, you two placed your things down then looked over to the board.

"What are you thinking? I kind of want cake." Liking what he was saying, you hummed.

"Cake sounds good. What type?" Before you could give your input of cake flavour, you found yourselves speaking at the same time.

"Chocolate." Surprised, you looked at each other before laughing.

"Good taste. You stay here. I'll go get it, what drink did you want?"

"Just, hot tea. Thanks." Bobbing his head at you, San went over to the counter whilst you sat yourself on one of the chairs. Now fully distracted from your flight and situation, you grabbed your purse and waited for him to return. You felt lucky, that you were no longer on your own. Even if it was spurradic, you were grateful.

"Here we go. I got you sugars for the tea." San placed the tray down, moving its contents onto the table then put it aside.

"Thank you. How much do I owe you?"

"Nothing. Consider it a gift." Confused, you tilted your head, watching as he sipped his matcha latte.

"For what?" Gazing up at you, San put the plastic cup down.

"Our first date." He winked, heat rushing to your cheeks. Smirking, the red-head let out a laugh at your clearly flustered face. You busied yourself with putting your purse away.

"So, why are you travelling alone?" Surprised at his question, you stirred the sugar into your tea.

"Oh, well I had a final exam last week. So I couldn't fly with my parents. You?" San, who was focused on eating the frosting of his cake, locked eyes with you. Of course you had noticed how attractive this man was. His eyes were so pretty, smile seemingly drawing you in. Plus, his smile lines almost made you blush. It was slightly embarrassing. But San was clearly just not wanting to wait six hours alone. It wasn't as if there was anything else to it.

"I'm flying out to meet my friends. I couldn't get the week off work to go with them." You hummed again, taking a bite of your cake. Finding it to be better than expected, your eyes widened a little.

"Its good isn't it?" San had pretty much devoured his by now, showing he thought the same.

For the next few hours, you two sat in the cafe, discussing various topics. Like what he did for work, a dance instructor at his friends studio. You thought that was amazing. He too asked about your studies, allowing you to tell him all about it. San listened intently, giving you his full attention. You found it sweet that he was so intrigued. Eventually, your conversation drifted back to the holiday you were both about to embark on.

"So we've rented a villa for the next few weeks. Wooyoung, my friend, wants to spend it partying but he can't keep up with that." San laughed, crossing his leg so his ankle rested on his knee. Ignoring the fact you found that move particularly attractive, you giggled along with him.

"You not the party sort?"

"No. I don't handle alcohol well. You?"

"Me neither." You told him, liking that you had so many things in common.

"I'm just on a family holiday. We go every few years. We also have a villa." Noticing the lack of motivation in your voice, San sat forward.

"Are you not happy to be going?"

"I am. Just, my family can be a bit much." Deciding not to push it any further, he thought for a second.

" Hey, maybe we'll be staying near each other. Do you have the address?" Nodding, you pulled it up and handed your phone over to him. San brought his own phone out, clearly searching Google maps. His eyes lit up, getting up and sitting on the arm of your chair.

"Look! They're like a street apart." You smiled, seeing that he was correct. Feeling how close he was, you blushed slightly and gazed up at him.

"Maybe we'll see each other." Scoffing, San pulled his phone back and switched onto another app.

"Maybe? We can hang out. It'll be fun. Here, put your number and socials on my phone." Shocked, you didn't protest and did just that, handing it back when you were done.

"Hey where are you sat on the plane? I'm on row five." You deflated, San noticing and frowning.

"Sat far away huh?" You nod at him.

"I'm quite close to the back." You told him, leaning back against the chair. The male pondered for a few seconds before smiling again.

"Its OK. I'll come visit you." You couldn't help but laugh, getting shy again. Praying he hadn't noticed, you didn't see how he was looking at you. But that was fine, for now.

Spending time with San, time flew by and before you knew it, you were getting ready to board the plane.

"I'll see you on the other side." San joked. Scoffing, you hugged yourself tightly. It was now obviously much later and the temperature had dropped sufficiently.

"You're cold?" Looking up to the man, you just just gave a small shrug.

"I'll be fine." He rolled his eyes almost playfully and dropped his backpack. Your eyes widened as he unzipped his hoodie and walked to stand in front of you. You couldn't think straight, allowing him to slip the garment onto you with ease. San even zipped it up, straightening the shoulders out which were far to big for you. More to the point, your eyes were shamefully glued to his physique. How on earth was he built like that? Even if he was wearing a black tshirt, it was tight to his frame and you could tell from his arms how built he was. Sans hands stayed on your shoulders, admiring how small you looked for a second. That's when you snapped out of it, face crimson.

"No no, you need this. It's yours." He brushed you off, pulling the hood over your head.

"I'll get it off you once we land. We can share an uber." Chewing on your lip to stop yourself from smiling like an idiot, you nodded quickly and waved goodbye as Sans boarding group was called.

When you got you your seat, you found the rest of your row already occupied. By the window, an old lady who was reading. She looked angry, a permanent scowel etched into her features. In the middle, a man around the same age. Upon looking closer, you saw wedding rings. OK. An old married couple. Not bad. Or so you thought. Taking your seat, you accidentally dropped your bag, hitting the man. Gasping, you turned to him immediately.

"I'm so so sorry." Instead of yelling, the man gave you a smile that made your stomach turn.

"Its no trouble sweet cheeks." Deciding to excuse his language as "old fashioned" you just turned forward and took a deep breath. It would all be over soon. That's what you kept thinking. You gripped onto the arms of your seat as you took off, relived once the plane was safely in the air. Deciding to play some games on your phone, you very quickly became aware of the fact you were being watched. You could feel eyes boring into your side. Slowly, you looked at the man beside you. He just smirked, showing off his dentures.

"How old are you sugar?" Disgusted by the name, you moved yourself back slightly.

"Uh, twenty one." He grinned, hand making its way towards you slowly.

"Perfect. You're very cute." His hand landed on your thigh, making you flinch away. Now extremely uncomfortable, you looked to his wife only to see that she was drinking from a flask. Great.

"Could you move your hand please?" You tried, giving a weak smile in attempt to sway him. Instead, his bucked and wrinkly fingers began gliding along your skin. Suddenly, your vision was blocked as a hand grasped at the man's wrist.

"She said move your hand." San spat, shoving his hand back harshly. The man sputtered out a dumb excuse about being old but San just rolled his eyes, ignoring him. Grabbing your bag, he gently took hold of your hand and lead you down the aisle. Eventually he stopped at an empty row and let you sit by the window.

"Are you OK?" San asked, facing you with a worried expression. You nod slowly, rubbing your face with your hands, which were covered with the sleeves of his hoodie. San grabbed his backpack, pulling out an ipad and some ear buds. He pulled his tray table down, balancing the device skillfully.

"Wanna watch a movie? I have some downloaded." You agreed, letting him put a bud in your left ear. You watched as he pulled up the list and you picked a Disney film for comfort. San smiled down at you, taking note that you still looked stressed. Tentivley, he lifted the arm rest between you both and raised his arm. You didn't protest as he pulled you into his chest, your head resting there comfortably.

"You can sleep if you like? I won't move." He promised, a hand coming up to brush through your hair softly. Feeling safe, you finally smiled and fully relaxed into his hold. It didn't take long for you to fall asleep after that.

You awoke a few hours later, the cabin lights were dim as most of the passengers were sleeping. Looking to your right, you found San also asleep. He neck was bent awkwardly, head resting on the seat uncomfortably. Frowning, you gently moved his head to rest on your shoulder. Instinctively, the man repositioned himself so his face was in the crook of you neck. His body moving lower in his seat, arm hanging over your middle. You blushed, but smiled knowing he could rest better now. After checking the time, you saw you only had an hour left. For a while, you played on your phone, enjoying the warmth provided by the man next to you. So concentrated on your mobile game, you didn't notice when San woke up. It was only after your level finished that you noticed his eyes on you. He smiled, still half asleep before yawning into his hand.

"Are we nearly there?" His voice was deep, fatigue laced in his words. You nod, helping him to sit up straight.

"We should be landing in about thirty minutes." He hummed, pulling you back into hid arms. You knew you were blushing but chose to just bask in his comfort.

"I wanna keep watching you play." Even though you were surprised by his request, you smiled and began playing your game again. He watched, evem helping you through some levels. You only stopped when the pilot spoke over the intercom. San held you flush against him securely as the plane began it's descent. You tensed up, your stomach doing flips each time the plane lost pressure. As if sensing this, Sans grip tightened, his other arm coming to wrap around you as well. He didn't let go until the plane landed and the wheels came to a halt.

"You okay?" He asked, pulling away and cupping your cheeks. Simpering, you nod and sat back.

"My legs are so numb." You laughed, stretching out best you could in the restricted space.

"Need me to carry you?" San asked with a hint of amusement. You scoffed, standing with him and getting your bag.

"You couldn't do that." All he did was raise his brows, looking at you with a bored expression. Smiling, you looked down and allowed him to take your hand and pull you off the aircraft. It was early morning, around seven a.m. The sun was just rising, you saw through the windows. It didn't take long to pass security. San even collected your suitcase off the conveyer belt after you pointed it out. You stepped outside into the morning air and inhaled deeply, letting San book your uber. (He refused to let you pay). Realising you'd have to part from your new friend, you frowned.

"What's wrong?" He stepped closer, putting his hand on your shoulder. Shaking your head, you looked up at him.

"Nothing. I just. Thank you you for being with me today. It means a lot." Giving you a soft smile, San pet your hair affectionately.

"Its no problem. I really enjoyed your company." He told you honestly, his words lifting your spirit slightly. Sadly, the uber pulled up and you both got in, falling into a comfortable conversion.

Sensing that your stop was coming up, you turned to san with a mellow expression.

"I guess I might see you around." You almost pouted, but held back from appearing too disappointed.

"Might? (Y/n) I'm going to text you as soon as I get in. Then we can arrange to hang out."

"Really?" You practically lit up, grinning at him. San chuckled, Bobbing his head in confirmation. When the uber stopped, you weren't so upset about getting out. Leaning down, you gazed at San from the door.

"I'll talk soon then?" Smirking at you, he nod and responded.

"Definitely. I'll text you in...ten minutes?" Both laughed, him waving as you shut the door and he got driven away. Of course, you went to greet your family, giving everyone a hug. It was only when your mother pulled away that she noticed.

"What are you wearing?"

Dumping your suitcase, you lay on your bed and pulled out your phone to see a DM.

San: I'm going to murder wooyoung. This place is a mess.

Giggling, you liked the message before responding.

You: it can't be that bad??

San: you haven't met the boy. Mingi is also dead to the world so I'm going to have to clean up.😤

You smiled to yourself, giving a laughing face in reply before remembering.

You: by the way, I forgot to give you your hoodie back. I'm sorry.

San: keep it for now. I'm sure we'll be seeing each other very soon

You hoped he was right. Never in your life had you felt so comforted and safe by a stranger. Buy you weren't going to question it, just accept it. You had a month to meet up again. For now, you just had to wait and see.

#choi san #san x reader #ateez imagines #ateez fluff #ateez x reader #choi san x y/n #choi san x reader #san x reader fluff

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everythingmp3 · 9 months ago

Text

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐯𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ✧

adult!Van x fem!reader (smut)

you´ve been dating Van for a while and a heated argument turns into something else, when you can’t hide that her rage is kind of a turn on.

minors dni. warnings: bottom!reader, fingering, slight degradation/domination

(disclaimer: a little longer/more plot, inspired by the few outbursts we see from Van in the show, hate sex if you wanna call it that but also more to it. anyway, I hope it conveys the vibe i was going for! enjoy xx)

fights were a rare occurrence for you and Van. you could count on one hand the amount of times you´d actually gotten loud with each other, but there was a through-line with all the fights, the same issue connecting them all: Van refusing to let you in. there were moments when you could tell that something had triggered a memory in her, which made her shut down completely but she refused to talk about it or accept help. she´d brush it off, isolate, leave you guessing, and it ate away at you every time. it was not something that happened often, but that night it just rubbed you the wrong way and it escalated to a fight. you were standing in the living room, she was by the counter in the kitchen nook, both of you pretty riled up at that point, arguing from across the room.

"you don´t tell me shit, Van, ever! I have told you everything about myself, all of it, yet you don´t tell me anything!" you said, visibly pissed off, she shook her head, eyes intense, hands grabbing the counter for support, "that´s not true. i tell you things all the time".

"you know what i fucking mean, not the things that matter! not the reason you sometimes get that look and space out and get all strange for an entire night. how do you think that makes me feel, to not be trusted with any of it?".

"it´s not about trust, i´ve said this a million times! it´s about protecting you, not dragging you into it!" she yelled, arms gesturing wildly, you just scoffed at that, "bullshit, that´s bullshit Van, i am grown, i can take it and you know it. that´s a lame excuse for your inconsiderate way of shutting me out" you were tired of the same old argument.

she got even louder then, "you have no idea what you´re fucking talking about. the kind of shit i am dealing with, that´s not for you to know, okay, it´s better this way."

"you seem to have no idea what´s better for me"

"oh really?" a sudden quietness to her tone that somehow sounded more threatening, she went over to you then, getting closer. "you think i´m wrong? you wanna know about all the fucking horror in my head? you think that´s what you need from me?", she was almost backing you against the wall then, her eyes burning into yours, her stance solid and unmoving, her chest visibly flushed from the anger. you nodded, challenging her.

"yeah? okay, you asked for it", she became spiteful, it all bubbled up in her then, "what detail do you need, huh? that i survived those 19 months in the woods by fucking eating people, friends, teammates, that i did that", you were staring at her then, your eyes fixed on hers, breath shallow, she was seething, "that they weren´t all natural deaths, that we we hunted them like animals, that we set traps, that we turned into fucking monsters out there, that i know the look of human flesh so well, that i get nauseous when i cut my finger. that´s what you wanna hear, yeah? that i was a brutal evil person, that i am scared i might still be? you happy now?" the pain in her voice was just as strong as her anger then, and all you could do was stare at her, take it all in, the sight of her overflowing with everything she´d left unsaid for so many years, her body practically on fire. in that moment, it struck you, all at once, how her strong deep voice, her attempt to corner and intimidate you, the animalistic look in her eyes, her unusual meanness; it was so different to her usual sweet way with you, that it stirred something deep inside of you. it wasn´t intentional, it just happened, your body, a sudden visceral need, a primal kind of pull towards her. you were trying to mask it but not very successfully, at first she mistook your wide eyes and shallow breath for fear, but then, she noticed it, she knew your body too well not to sense the shift, she shook her head in disbelief, leaning closer to you.

"are you fucking turned on right now?" she hissed, her eyes unrelenting, searching your face for an answer you weren´t willing to give, "you are, aren´t you? fucking hell. here i am eaten up by guilt because i am being a bitch to you and you´re getting off on it??" she was at a loss, she expected disgust, fear, shock, but not that, not the look on your face that you usually gave her when you were extremely desperate for her. "oh, so now you can´t talk back anymore, yeah?" she came even closer then, close enough to make you fully back against the wall, her breath so close you could feel it on your lips, trying not to make a sound, initially she was baffled, then something crept up in her: satisfaction. she realized she had the upper hand, which was delicious after a fight where she felt cornered, you could see it in her eyes, the switch, and you knew you were fucked.

"speak." she demanded in a stern tone, hands on your arms then, pinning you to the wall, it was horrible how hard it was not to moan just from that, your voice wavering as you returned her gaze, "i told you, i can take it.", you did it on purpose and she knew it, that way of wording it, rubbing it in her face, the repetition of earlier words suggestive then because the air was so charged, she pushed even closer to you then, fingers digging into your wrists, restraining you, "oh yeah? is that what you wanted all along? for me to be brutal and make you take it?" emphasis on the last words, almost a kind of disdain in there, "careful what you wish for" she said before pushing her knee up between your legs in one hard motion, making immediate contact with your pelvis, a sensation so violently arousing you let out a pathetic moan, wincing from it, she kept her knee there, not moving an inch, but you were stubborn, trying hard to not give her what she wanted, stifling the other sounds that were forming in your throat, so she moved her knee up against your most sensitive area through the fabric, you were whining then, breaking, losing your composure second by second, a slight grin on her face, not a generous one.

"fucking slut" the word hitting you across the face, she was not into degrading you, quite the opposite, the list of sweet names she called you during sex endless, so the harsh tone as she spat that out made you even more dizzy with heat, with the need for her to just have her way, and by that point she was deeply into the dynamic of it all, not truly angry anymore but riled up, willing to be rough, if that was what it was going to take to make you fold. you tried leaning forward to kiss her, but she let go of one of your hands and put her forearm across your chest, pressing you into the wall to keep you from doing something tender, shaking her head "i don´t think so", you were begging her then, "please just.." , an intense expression on her face as she groped your tits pretty hard, forcing more whining out of you, making you surrender, "jesus fuck i´m sorry okay".

you crying those words out softened her a little but she could tell you weren´t actually trying to apologize, you were just desperate to have her fuck you, which she couldn´t deny, so she wasted no time, "what´s that, i didn´t hear you?" she teased, as she took advantage of the fact that you´d already showered and changed, just loose sweatpants and no underwear in the way, her cold hand on your cunt in one second, a sharp breath in from you at the contact, "fuck you" you uttered, not very convincingly, shutting your eyes, she was only pushed further by that, "oh okay I see" she leaned forward, her hot breath on your cheek then, as she felt how wet you were, practically leaking, not even needing to push her fingers between your lips to feel it slick against her skin, usually she´d be gentle but in that moment she couldn´t be, pushing two of her fingers all the way into you without warning, no mercy, a loud cry escaping you then, immediately thrusting her fingers into you repeatedly, while still having you pinned against the wall, her breath ragged against your skin, her voice low and sultry, "this is what you wanted, isn´t it?".

Van was enjoying it, the power, there was a slight pain from her relentless motion but it just added to your arousal, you´d gotten soaked enough for it to feel good, the sudden change from zero to a hundred, your moans almost pornographic then, your walls throbbing around her knuckles, she leaned down, not to kiss you but to leave bites all over your shoulder, your neck, teeth digging in just enough to drive you insane, "fuck Van" you kept pleading, as she was doing her best to push you towards an orgasm, hitting the right spot, doing so with more force than usual, not wanting you to savor it but to be overwhelmed by it, pleasure as punishment, something like that, your hands were free to move again by that point, so your nails were digging into her back hard as you were chest to chest, she had no words left in her as she felt you cumming against her fingers, increasingly turned on herself, mind blank, groaning so close to your ear it just made you finish even harder, her fingers not slowing dow at all while you felt your whole body shaking, once your grip on her loosened she finally let you go, backing away from the wall, panting, her hand cramped up at that point, collecting her thoughts as you almost collapsed to the floor because your legs were done for, so you stumbled over to the couch, falling down against the cushions, exhausted.

the second Van turned and saw you resting there like that, she felt a wave of guilt rushing over herself, she was coming back to her senses and it hit her like a ton of bricks; that all you were trying to do during the fight was to get close to her, that all you ever fought her on was her unwillingness to let you be there for her during her darkest moments. you were younger than her, yet more patient, more emotionally available, which made her feel awful all of a sudden. she walked over to sit down next to you, giving you some space for a moment, the two of you just sitting there in silence, until she turned to you, reaching for your hand, her voice soft and quiet:

"hey, listen. I think I owe you an apology." you shook your head, "it´s fine really don´t-" she interrupted, "no, no i do. you weren´t saying anything crazy, it obviously just hit a nerve because it was true. i should be grateful you want to help me. sorry, really. i´m fucking stupid sometimes." a faint smile from you then, you slowly climbed over to her, half on her lap then, hands in her hair, "it´s fine. you know, i just wanted to make it clear, that nothing you could say or reveal about your life would make me leave you, ever. but i get that it´s hard to talk about it, so i´m sorry if i forced something out of you." her hands on your back then, under your shirt, caressing you as she stared up at you, enjoying the feeling of your fingers pushing her hair back, "stop that, you´re being too sweet, i don´t deserve that right now, not after all that..", you grinned then, amused "right, after calling me a slut", Van shook her head,"god don´t even-", you laughed then, "didn´t know you had all that in you", she was glad you weren´t truly hurt by it, joking about it, her gaze fell to a spot on your shoulder where she´d left a rather prominent bite mark, "jesus christ i really need to get a grip" one of her fingers tracing it, you shook your head, grinning, "oh, that part you don´t have to apologize for. I think it´s hot when you get like that. as you clearly realized and took advantage of", nudging her as you said this, she smiled then, "i did like seeing that look on your face" she admitted, a grin, "but don´t get used to it, i like this much better", leaning in and placing a tender kiss on your shoulder, your neck, pulling your face down to lazily press her lips against your cheek, your temple, your forehead, hearing you sigh softly, pulling away after a while to face you again.

"trying to make up for something there, Palmer?" you teased, hands on her neck, she eyed you, head tilted to the side, smiling, just taking in the view of your flushed face, "i think i can do better than that if i´m really trying to make it up to you", you raised your eyebrows, "oh yeah?", she nodded, hands on your waist then, pulling you closer, "yes. I´ll have to get on my knees to really deserve forgiveness, don´t you think?", your eyes wide then, impressed by her sudden smoothness, "i won´t stop you from trying", your lovestruck eyes giving away that she was of course already forgiven, feeling her shift from underneath you, pulling you up, "come on then, let´s go to bed" a gentle squeeze on your hand, making you realize that her being rough had its appeal, but would never compare to the feeling of her being all sweet and loving.

it didn´t fail to make her emotional that night; the realization that you truly did not care about what she´d shared with you, that you still saw her as just as worthy of your love as before. it would lead to her spoiling you even more the days and weeks after, if that was even possible.

#van palmer x reader #yellowjackets x reader #van palmer #yellowjackets #btw feel free to send me ideas or thoughts if you have any

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blog-name-idk · 2 years ago

Text

Perfect

Pairing: Kim Seokjin x Fem Reader

Genre: nonIdol!AU, yandere, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT

Summary: "I've wanted you for so long," Jin whispers, mouth only a hair away from your own. You can't move, can't look away, helpless against this spell he's weaving around you. You can almost believe this is a sweet, romantic little moment. If only it was that simple. "And you're finally mine."

Word Count: 7,251

Warnings: Smut, NON CON, PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. Kidnapping, restraints, forced orgasms, R word.

AN: I was never going to post this on Tumblr for obvious reasons but... well, here it is lmfao. Seriously I have no excuses, this is just me being depraved. Please DO NOT READ if any of the themes above are not your thing.

~~~~~

You wake up to golden sunlight streaming across your face, in a plush bed that is decidedly not your own. Groggy and disoriented, you sit up and look around a luxurious bedroom with heavy, expensive looking furniture. The bed itself is one of those fancy four-posters you've only seen in movies, with a princess style canopy and silk sheets.

As you come to your senses, you note with relief that you're still wearing your clothes from yesterday. Then you frown. Yesterday? Yesterday was your first date with the guy of your dreams, and everything was perfect, until… what had happened, exactly?

"Hey sleepyhead, you're finally awake."

Your heart flutters at the familiar voice, and you look to see Kim Seokjin in the doorway, beautiful and broad and looking positively adorable in gray sweatpants and a plain white tee. He's giving you a soft look that makes you both giddy and nauseous, and you feel a sudden stab of panic at your lack of memory. Did you drink too much and black out? Did you do anything embarrassing?

Wait, no. You definitely didn't have more than a couple glasses of the wine Jin insisted on getting a bottle of. So why do you feel so hungover?

"Um… what happened?" you asked timidly. Seokjin smiles, sweet and gentle, and yet something about it makes your chest prickle with unease.

"I drugged you, silly" he responds so matter-of-factly you find yourself laughing at his joke. It slowly dies away when you realize he hasn't joined you in your mirth, and that's when you finally realize there is a leather cuff around your ankle.

"J-Jin, what the fuck is this," you say with a laugh much weaker than the one before. "This isn't funny."

Seokjin gives you another sweet smile and walks into the room to sit on the bed next to you, and you resist the urge to shy away. This is just some weird prank, right? It has to be.

"I just wanted to be safe," he murmurs, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and drawing you close to place a kiss on your temple. You stiffen in surprise and discomfort, stomach beginning to roil with a different kind of anxiety. You give an experimental tug at the rope connecting your leg to the bedpost, and it holds firm, much to your dismay. This is the least funny joke you have ever been subject to.

"Jin, please tell me what the hell is going on," you plead as your breath comes in shorter and shorter gasps. You yank harder, and the rattle of the chain taunts you with its cold, metallic laughter. No. No, no, no.

"You just looked so beautiful last night, I couldn't let you go," Jin murmurs, nuzzling his nose into your hair as you tug futilely at your ankle.

You freeze, feeling your stomach churn and bile rise in your throat. This can't be real. Maybe it's a weird dream your subconscious came up with because you've been fantasizing about this man too much.

To test your theory - and because perhaps you're a little more panicked than you realize - you slap yourself in the face as hard as you can. Your head rings like the alarm bell you're desperately hoping to hear, but when your vision clears, Jin is still there, cupping your face with gentle hands and looking at you with a concerned look in his warm, gorgeous chocolate eyes.

"Baby? Is everything okay? Why did you do that?" he asks frantically, thumb brushing delicately over the patch of now very tender skin on your cheek. It burns under his touch, the heat at complete odds with the icy daggers of realization that pierce your chest.

Oh no. This isn't a dream.

Suddenly the insanity and gravity of your predicament hits you, and dread and nausea surge through you in equal measure. You open your mouth to respond, but all that spews out is last night's dinner, all over Jin's crisp shirt and the bed.

"Fuck," you groan, both at the way your stomach is still roiling, and the situation at hand. Instead of reacting in anger or chagrin, Jin rubs your back soothingly, and you're torn between jerking away and accepting the proffered comfort. Then he clambers off the bed and takes his soiled shirt off.

"What are you doing?" you ask in trepidation, trying not to eye the sun-kissed skin on display. You are not going to admire the physique of someone who fucking drugged and chained you to a bed. You're better than that.

"I don't want to get you dirty," Jin replies simply, before unlocking your cuff and scooping you in his arms as if you're a baby lamb. You give a feeble protest, but you're too weak and disoriented to take advantage of your newfound freedom. By the time your head stops spinning, he's brought you into a bathroom that's frankly absurd.

A white marble counter lines one wall, while the other is taken up by a gorgeous mosaic shower and gigantic jacuzzi tub that looks big enough to belong in a bath house. The sheer ridiculousness of it is almost enough to snap you out of your stupor.

"Do you still feel sick? Maybe I gave you too much."

"Huh?" you mumble dazedly, knowing you should scream, fight, anything. Instead all you do is lay in his arms, wondering how you can feel so cold when your heart is pounding so fast.

"I've never done this before," Jin says with a shy smile and pink ears that would have been cute if he wasn't talking about drugging a human being. He gently sets you on your feet, smiling when you automatically set a hand on his shoulder to steady your trembling legs. He's solid and warm under your clammy hand, and you want to hate him for it.

"I should hope not," you respond, though you're suddenly so exhausted that it comes out without the bite you intended. Jin seems to take it as a joke, because he chuckles and brushes some hair out of your sweaty face.

"Don't worry, sweetheart. I only have eyes for you."

You close your eyes and swallow repeatedly to force down another wave of nausea at the sickly adoration in his voice, and he seems to misread it as an invitation to brush his plump, silky lips against your own. You shy away from the petal soft contact, thinking of the first excuse that comes to mind.

"I - I just threw up," you mutter, looking down so he can't see the fear in your eyes. Jin's fingers come under your chin to tilt your face up, and you hate yourself for the way your cheeks heat under his tender gaze.

"Your lips are sweet enough to make up for it," he says with a charming grin that almost makes you forget your current circumstances. Thankfully, he leaves it at that and proceeds to show you the toiletries he got - especially for you, he adds with another blush - and how the shower and tub work. Then, to your surprise, he leaves you in private to clean up. Apparently he's still a gentleman, in his own twisted little way.

With your captor gone, your heart rate settles into something more bearable. You rest your hands on the counter and take several deep breaths as you stare in the mirror.

Your sickly, gray-tinged face stares back, pupils blown wide, and your hair is a sweaty mess. You feel like a wrung-out paper towel, and it shows. It would have been flattering, the way Jin still looked at you as if you were the most beautiful woman in the world. At least, it would have been flattering if he wasn't a fucking lunatic.

Part of you considers not brushing your teeth, because if he's gonna try to kiss you again he deserves the flavor. But your own comfort wins out, and you scowl at your reflection as you use the expensive electric toothbrush he had so considerately gotten you.

Then, deciding you aren't ready to deal with whatever the fuck is going on on the other side of the door, you turn to the spacious, tiled shower. You begin to remove the silky black dress you had slept in, before eyeing the bathroom door and striding across the room to lock it. No doubt Jin has a key or something, but it makes you feel better, at least. No way you're going to get naked with the door unlocked when a deranged Romeo thinks this is some cute domestic situation.

Steam begins to fill the room and you test the temperature before letting your dress pool at your feet and stepping out of it. Your underclothes go next, and you step under the stream. The hot water beats at your back with irritatingly perfect pressure, and as some of the fogginess leaves your brain you do your best to make sense of what the fuck is happening.

Despite everything you've been hit with today, it's still hard to wrap your mind around the fact that Kim Seokjin drugged you. And… kidnapped you? Are you kidnapped? You woke up with a fucking ankle cuff, but he also didn't seem too worried when he unlocked it and left you alone in here.

With a start, you wonder what happened to your phone. Does he have it? Has anyone called to check in on you? That should be your plan A.

The situation is utterly insane, and a hysterical giggle bubbles out of your chest before you can stop it. What the hell is this? If you got out of the shower, got dressed, and walked out of his house would he even stop you? Was this some weird roleplay scenario Jin got way too invested into?

You've known Seokjin for a year now, had a crush on him for most of that time, and there had been nothing to indicate that something like this would happen. Your friend groups overlapped, and when he had finally asked you on a date everyone had been thrilled. Maybe this is all some strange misunderstanding, that would make more sense than anything else.

Something in your gut tells you to be careful, though. Even if it seems ridiculous, if there's even a miniscule chance that this isn't a joke, then he could react… poorly to certain things you say. Before this, Jin had never been anything other than sweet, kind, and respectful. But you've known enough men who seem that way at first only to change completely when faced with something they didn't want to hear, and self-preservation has taught you to soften your words, skirt around sensitive subjects, and flatter egos.

Even if Jin's behavior makes you uneasy, you really don't have enough information to understand what's happened. He drugged you, but considering you woke up fully clothed on top of a made bed indicates that nothing physical happened. The weirdest thing - other than him saying he drugged you - is the ankle cuff. And with the concern in his eyes when he looked at you… well, at least it doesn't seem like he's going to hurt you.

You've also read enough thrillers and movies to realize that if you run out of this house - apartment? - screaming or looking like a crazy person, someone as handsome and charming as Seokjin could scoop you back up in a heartbeat. You remember reading about that exact situation happening with a serial killer who managed to convince the police to return his victim to his clutches.

Better to wait, to go with the flow and see what paths are available to you. Planning is never a bad idea, after all.

That decided, you finish washing off and step out to dry yourself in a fluffy white towel. You feel a little more grounded now, uncomfortable but at least calmer with the makings of a game plan. You'll first try to figure out what he did with your phone.

You put your old clothes back on with a grimace, because the idea of encouraging Seokjin by coming out in just a towel is even more distasteful. With the way he's acting like you're somehow already some established couple, he'd probably take it as an invitation.

When you nervously peek out the door, however, the bedroom is empty. Which is as suspicious as it is relieving.

The dirty sheets have been stripped off the bed, and some folded clothes sit atop the bare mattress. It's clear Seokjin means for you to wear them, and you briefly contemplate defiance before deciding there's no point antagonizing someone you clearly don't know as well as you thought.

You pick up the folded pair of sweatpants, and something falls to the ground. It's a familiar piece of fabric, and your blood freezes in your veins.

With trembling fingers, you kneel to pick up the pair of lacy cheeky underwear you thought you lost at the laundromat months ago. You had lamented its loss, because it had been one of your few splurges, a gem amongst your Fruit-of-the-Loom multipacks.

Why does Seokjin of all people have them? How? What the fuck. What the fuck.

Body shaking, you inspect them, desperately hoping that for some inexplicable reason he just happens to have the same brand, model, and size on hand. Your worst fears are confirmed when you see your initials on the tiny tag, written so your shitty roommate couldn't claim them as her own. Oh how you wish you were home, fuming about her dirty dishes taking up the sink.

They look clean, but you take a cautious, fearful sniff before relaxing slightly. Then a giggle bubbles out of you. You're trapped in a crazy guy's house, and you're relieved your stolen underwear just smells like laundry detergent. Maybe you're losing it.

It's all officially too much for you to process on your still pounding head. So you go by instinct - not that it fucking did you any good before - and change into what Seokjin has so kindly left you.

Of course his sweatpants fit you around the waist, because his own is stupidly tiny. You have to roll up the legs a little, and the shirt is decidedly baggy, but at this point you have more important things to worry about.

Like what exactly you're supposed to do now. You test the door knob, and are only slightly disappointed to find it locked. Perhaps Seokjin isn't quite as convinced of this lovey-dovey scenario as he seemed.

Mentally exhausted, you flop back onto the bed, legs dangling off the edge. Unbothered by the lack of sheets or your wet hair, you stare sightlessly up at the gauzy canopy above you. Your mind doesn't stop racing, but nothing really sticks out other than more repeated "what the fuck"s.

A knock startles you out of your haze.

"Are you dressed?" Seokjin calls, and you make a wordless noise of assent as you sit up. So nice of him to ask before entering the room he locked you into. There's a soft click before the knob turns, and he walks with damp hair, fresh clothes, and a warm smile that does nothing to dispel the cold unease in your gut.

"You look cute," he says with a happy grin, clearly enjoying the way you look swaddled in his clothes. You feel your face heat up at the admiration in his tone and remind yourself this fucker stole your underwear.

"How are you feeling?" he asks sweetly, and you blink. That is quite the loaded question, one you're not sure how to answer.

"Better," you respond, deciding to settle for a simplified version of the tumultuous thoughts taking residence in your head. You do feel a little more human now that you're clean, though you also certainly feel nowhere near the vicinity of good.

"I'm glad," says Seokjin with a relieved smile, striding towards you with his long legs and reaching forward to stroke your cheek. "I would never forgive myself if something happened to you."

An incredulous scoff bubbles from your throat unbidden, and your mouth moves before you can think the better of it.

"You mean like getting drugged and kidnapped?"

As soon as the words pass your lips you regret it. The flare of satisfaction at speaking your mind isn't worth any potential backlash when you have no idea how he'll react.

Seokjin just smiles at your outburst, bringing his other hand forward to cradle your face, shuffling closer so he's standing between your legs.

"I'm sorry if I scared you," he murmurs, leaning forward to rest his forehead against your own. The woody scent of his cologne wafts over you and you do your best not to let your gaze trail to his plump lips. "I just couldn't wait any longer."

"What do you mean?" you ask in a soft, quivering voice, unsure if your heart is racing from fear or something else. Despite the present circumstances, you've pined after Jin for so long that his proximity and touch is enough to pin you into place.

"I've wanted you for so long," Jin whispers, mouth only a hair away from your own. You can't move, can't look away, helpless against this spell he's weaving around you. You can almost believe this is a sweet, romantic little moment. If only it was that simple. "And you're finally mine."

Then he's kissing you, slow and sweet. His lips are just as soft as before, silkier than the sheets you woke up on, and your mind goes blank as you gasp against him. He takes it as an invitation, running his tongue across your lower lip before licking into your mouth with deliberate strokes that make your head spin.

You bring your hands up to his chest to push him away, but then his right hand shifts from his cheek to the back of your head, deepening the kiss. Instead, your fingers tangle into his shirt as an involuntarily whimper escapes your lips, and you find yourself pulling him closer.

His groan nearly does you in as he pushes you further up the bare mattress so he can climb over you, mouth never leaving yours. You tell yourself you're going along with this to appease him, to lull him into a false sense of security to make it easier for you to escape later. It's not because his warmth and scent have consumed you, that you're so pathetically starved for his touch that you're willing to ignore the warnings in your brain.

"I know you want this too," Seokjin breathes as he pulls back, staring down at you with swollen lips and dark eyes and looking far too gorgeous for someone who would resort to kidnapping. His hands begin to push up the hem of your - his - shirt, and you instinctively tug it back down, some tiny part of your brain still aware enough to keep you reluctant.

"It's okay, sweetheart," Jin croons, pushing your hands aside to let his fingers dance beneath the shirt, sending shivers and tingles across your skin. "You're beautiful."

His hands snake up higher despite the feeble way you grip his arms, your half-hearted attempt to stop him doing absolutely nothing to deter his questing touch. When his palms come to rest at your breasts, thumbs brushing over the lace covering your nipples, you bite your lip to hold back a gasp. Jin's eyes zero in on the movement and his lips quirk into a devastating smirk.

"Sensitive here?" he asks nonchalantly, and you shake your head as the final shreds of your self respect attempt to make a futile last stand.

"No-oo!" your protest ends in a squeak as he gives you an experimental pinch, sending a spark of desire between your legs. His eyes darken and his grin spreads as your body betrays you, and before you can react he's yanked your shirt up and over your head.

You don't even have time to try to cover your exposed skin before his hands are on you again, the cups of your bra shoved down to give him full access.

"W-wait," you gasp as he begins to knead at your skin in earnest, his pinches and caresses making your head fuzz and your blood simmer. Jin chuckles and leans in to nuzzle your ear, giving the shell a hot lick that draws another needy noise from your throat.

"You're being so shy, it's cute," he murmurs, and at his words a spark of irritation and anxiety breaks through the warm fuzz clouding your mind. You open your mouth to tell him you're not being shy, that you don't want this, but then he begins to suckle at your neck and all that comes out is another moan.

"J-Jin," you try again, attempting to formulate words while his teeth nip at your sensitive skin. He pulls away, but your relief at the reprieve vanishes when he replaces one of the hands at your chest with his mouth instead. He rolls his tongue around your nipple and you jolt, bucking your hips up against his hard erection, making him hiss.

Seokjin's free hand begins to trail downward to the hem of your sweatpants, and you feel another spark of panic mix with the fire in your chest. This whole situation has spiraled wildly out of your control, and you're not sure if there's anything you can do to stop it. If you ever could at all.

"D-don't," you gasp weakly, one hand tugging at his hair while your other grips his wrist in another pathetic attempt to keep him from going further. He easily ignores your struggles, dipping into your pants and underwear to drag wicked fingers along your dripping folds.

"Oh fuck," he groans, releasing your nipple with a wet pop in favor of watching your open-mouthed expression. "You're so wet for me."

You make a noise that was supposed to be a protest but only encourages him, and he gathers the arousal along your entrance before beginning to rub light, teasing circles around your clit. Your eyes flutter shut as you bite your lip, trying and failing to muffle the sounds of pleasure and distress that his motions are pulling from you.

"P-please s-stop," you hiccup even as your traitorous body bucks against his palm, wet and aching as he alternates between rubbing your swollen bud and running his fingers teasingly against your folds. You're still trying to push his hand away, though with such little force that even you can tell you're no longer putting any effort into it.

"You're dripping, baby," Jin groans with appreciation as he slides his middle finger into you. You mewl at the way his thick digit stretches your walls, hands falling to scrabble at the mattress as you try not to arch into his touch. He pumps his finger in and out of you, completely ensnared by sweet moans spilling out of your kiss-swollen lips, testing different motions and angles to see what other pretty sounds he can pull out of you.

"Oh fuck," you keen softly when the pad of his finger curls into something that makes your entire body tense. Jin locks onto it like a predator targeting his prey, giving another rub that brings a high-pitched "ah!" of pleasure from your throat.

"Yeah?" he asks hoarsely as he drinks in your expression. He adds a second finger, feeling his cock twitch painfully when you let out a ragged moan. "You like that?"

"P-please," you beg through teary eyes, unsure if you're asking him to stop or keep going. Your body feels hot and heavy, brain swimming with cotton as you try to remember why you had been pushing him away in the first place. You bring your hands up to grab Jin's shirt, pulling him closer and he obeys, expression wild and reverent.

He crashes his lips onto yours, devouring you as you pant and gasp against his mouth. His tongue slides sloppily against yours as he fucks into you with relentless fingers and you arch your body shamelessly as liquid fire pools through all your limbs, thick and unescapable.

"Jin," you gasp, hips stuttering against his hand as the pressure in your veins becomes overwhelming. Seokjin growls, grinding the heel of his palm against your clit as he rubs insistently at your walls. You snap with a choked cry, body quaking beneath him as your cunt spasms around his fingers.

"That's it," Jin rasps as he presses his hand hard against you, letting you rub yourself against him as you ride out your climax.

He only relents when you scoot your hips away, fucked out and quivering with oversensitivity. Before you can regain any modicum of sense or sanity, he's pulling off your sweatpants and (stolen) underwear.

"I need a taste," he breathes, running a finger down your swollen, sensitive lips. "You'll let me, right?"

Seokjin - shockingly - doesn't wait for your answer before diving in, licking a broad stripe up your slit and making you twitch futilely against his face.

"T-too much," you whimper as his tongue sends electric jolts throughout your body, hands fisting in his hair as you try to push him off.

"Sorry baby, you're just too sweet," he groans, burying his face deeper between your legs and gripping your thighs to keep you from wiggling away. "I can't get enough."

Jin laps mercilessly at your clit, long slow strokes that soon have your toes curling and your protests melting into weak gasps. And when he presses his fingers back into you, thrusting and twisting just so, you know you're done for. You're already twitching and oversensitive from his earlier attack. All he has to do is continue his steady ministrations and before long your thighs are clenching around him as he forces you over the edge yet again, yanking on his hair and grinding your pussy against him as his fingers dig bruises into your soft flesh.

You lay there panting and trembling, staring as Seokjin sits back on his heels and wipes your juices off his glistening chin. You'd be embarrassed if you had any capacity for thought, but the only thing on your mind is a hazy "holy shit." No one has ever been so single-handedly determined to get you off, or been attentive enough to be able to do it so effectively.

He's staring at you with an expression that makes you flush, as if you somehow did something incredible when he was the one who had reduced you to incoherent babbles.

"You're perfect," Jin says, so sincerely that you feel your heart flutter again despite - what were you upset about, again? Then it comes crashing back - the drugging, the kidnapping, the fucking ankle cuff that's still on the bed and you feel anxiety cut through the bliss clouding your mind.

It only rises when he pulls off his shirt, revealing perfect golden skin and lean muscle that almost distracts you from the bulge in his pants and the wet spot that's formed. Attraction and anxiety well inside of you, and instead of trying to get away like a rational person you find yourself frozen to the spot, watching him kick off his sweatpants.

His cock springs free, long and thick and leaking precum and you swallow as you stare in disbelief.

"Um," you say stupidly, wondering when he's gonna say "surprise" and reveal his real, normal-sized penis. Then he begins crawling toward you and it becomes apparent that yes, apparently Seokjin is blessed in every single area except his sanity. The feeling begins to return to your limbs and you find yourself scrambling away, panic at fitting that inside of you finally tipping the scales to self preservation.

Seokjin grabs your legs with a carefree laugh that sends a chill down your spine, pulling you back towards him.

"Being shy again?" he teases, pressing a soft kiss against your ankle as you try to yank yourself out of his grip.

"Jin, please stop," you beg, heart hammering as you try to push him away. "I can't - I don't want to -"

"I'll take it slow," Jin says soothingly, pulling you snug against him. You gasp as the head of his cock brushes against your entrance, before redoubling your efforts and trying to kick at him.

"Baby, I know you're scared, but-"

"Of course I'm scared, you asshole," you snarl, finally pushed past the point of self-preservation as your patience snaps. "Let me go!"

To your increasing confusion and alarm, Seokjin just gives you a gentle smile as he pins your legs with his, then grabs your flailing arms with his own. He transfers them to one large hand and you try to wrench them out of his grip, to no avail.

"I didn't want to do this, but…"

He trails off and reaches above your head and to the side. Fear bubbles in your chest as you wonder what he might do - drug you again? Fuck you while you're unconscious?

Jin lets one of your hands free while he wraps something around your wrist and you immediately try to go for his eyes. Unfortunately he's prepared and catches you easily, with another obnoxious chuckle as if he thinks you're being cute. When you try to yank free again you realize your right hand is now bound in a cuff that matches the one on your ankle earlier.

"W-what the fuck?" you screech, writhing against him as he snaps another into place around your formerly free wrist. "Jin, what the fuck?"

"I know you're just scared," Seokjin coos lovingly, a manic glint shining in his eyes as he leans in to brush tender kisses along your jaw. You jerk your head away and he just sighs, diverting his attention to your neck and shoulder instead.

His hands begin stroking at your breasts and sides again as you try to buck him off, but with his weight on your legs it's a useless effort. You clench your jaw shut as he begins to nip and suck at your skin, trying to will your body not to react to his ministrations.

"It's okay, baby," he murmurs soothingly, rolling a nipple between thumb and forefinger and sending unwanted sparks down your spine. He scoots back, setting his hands on your thighs before you can kick at him, and begins trailing slow, lazy kisses down your stomach. "I'll take care of you."

"Jin, please stop," you try, anger fading into dread as it truly hits you that you're not going anywhere he doesn't want you to. He meets your gaze from between your legs, smiles, and you feel your heart sink.

"N-no," you whisper, trying to squeeze your legs closed. His tongue begins to prod at your entrance, and you bite your lip as you yank uselessly at your wrists. Jin's hands knead tenderly at the meat of your thighs as he licks up and down your slit, eyes sharp for every change in your expression.

You try not to give him the satisfaction of a reaction, try not to reveal the way every flick of his tongue makes you ache for more. But it's obvious in each jerk of your hips, the way you can feel yourself practically dripping onto his lips.

Tears prickle your eyes at how utterly useless you feel, intermingled with shame at how you are enjoying this despite your efforts not to. If you had managed to keep yourself together earlier, could you have prevented this? Was it your fault for being too starry-eyed to notice any red flags before?

"J-Jin, please," you sniffle, wriggling helplessly in his grip as he forces you to take what he's giving you. Your plea has the opposite effect you wanted, only making him groan and double his enthusiasm as you writhe in pleasure and anguish. His tongue delves deep into you, lapping up everything you have to offer, and a moan wrenches itself from your throat as his nose rubs against your clit.

Your previous two orgasms have already left you sensitive and weak, and you whine pitifully as he fucks you open with his tongue. The sounds coming from between your legs are obscene, sloppy and wet as he eats you out like a man starved. It's like he's found an oasis between your legs and he's determined to drink you dry.

It's only a matter of time, really, before the pleasure pooling in your gut threatens to overflow, and your muscles tense as you try to hold yourself back.

"N-no," you choke, trying to jerk away for the umpteenth time as Jin's treacherous tongue brings you higher and higher. "I - I don't want-"

One of his hands leaves your thigh to press gently on your clit and your voice dies as pleasure pulses through you. Your legs lock around Jin's head as you come hard on his face, mouth open in a silent scream as his tongue fucks you through another orgasm you didn't ask for.

You're still panting, still trembling from the aftershocks when you feel the insistent nudge of something thick and blunt against your swollen folds.

"Wait," you begin, trying not to moan when Jin drags his heavy cock up and down your entrance. Each time the head rubs against your clit you feel your bones turn to jelly, and by the way Jin licks his lips, he can tell exactly what he's doing to you.

"You're so wet, baby," he breathes raggedly, eyes on your dazed expression as he lines himself up. He drives his tip into you, so thick that despite the slide the burning stretch forces a treacherous moan from your throat. "So perfect for me."

"Oh my god," you whimper as he forces his way further inside, eyes rolling back as you arch into his chest. He's too fucking big, overwhelming in horribly delicious ways, every vein and ridge snug against you and threatening to rob you of your sanity.

"Fuck, so tight," Jin hisses, cock twitching inside of you as you clench around him. For a moment it seems like your walls won't let him any further, and you quiver beneath him as he pulls out just enough to fuck you open a little more.

The friction is sinfully, devastatingly perfect and all you can do is lie there and take it, lips parted as you gasp and whimper at the overwhelming pressure in your core. If he keeps going, something is going to break, and it might be you.

"It's too much," you choke as he gives another experimental thrust that sends your unshed tears spilling over your cheeks. "J-Jin, I can't, you're too big, I-"

He cuts you off by pressing his lips against yours, the softness of his kiss at complete odds with the way he's splitting you open.

"You're being so good for me, baby," he murmurs in a voice that sounds almost as ragged as yours. He cradles your face in his hands, brushing your tears away with gentle thumbs as you sniffle and hiccup beneath him.

Then he shoves into you another inch, and the words die in your throat, replaced by a broken whimper that makes him freeze above you.

"Shit," he curses, and your foggy mind has a split second to wonder what he means before he pulls out, leaving you a conflicted mixture of relieved and achingly empty.

"Wh-"

Jin rams into you in one vicious thrust, ripping a scream from your throat as he buries himself to the hilt. He fucks into you fast and hard, giving you no time to recover and leaving you sobbing and begging for him to slow down.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he pants as you struggle uselessly beneath him, legs kicking out as he drives himself into you again and again. His eyes are wild, pupils blown out as he drinks in your tear-stained face, and a twisted part of you thinks you've never seen anything more terrible and beautiful. "You feel too good, baby, fuck."

When he brings his hand between the two of you to rub at your clit you think you might actually die. It's all too much, he's too much, his stupid giant dick is too much, fucking every thought out of your head except that you have never felt so much at once, pain and pleasure and fear and arousal all blending into some primordial mixture that has you helpless and pliant beneath him.

The look on your face must be something, because it makes Jin's eyes widen for a split second before he's yanking your legs up over his shoulders and thrusting into you even more frantically than before.

This new angle makes you scream again as black spots dance in your vision, and you're unable to formulate any words other than the broken babbles Jin is forcing out of your lips.

"Fuck, you're taking me so well," Jin growls, the slap of skin against skin filling the room as he slams into you over and over again. You can only cry out, your throat almost as raw as your trembling wrists.

"Pleasepleaseplease," you sob helplessly, hating the way he's fucking every rational thought from your head. "Fuck, slow down, please."

In a miraculous turn of events, Seokjin actually listens to you, and lets your legs splay back down around his hips. But then he thrusts into you even deeper, grinding his cock into you as far as it can go and you choke at the sensation. The pain is overshadowed by the way his pelvis presses against your clit and you feel yourself spasm around his length.

"Oh, fuck," Seokjin groans, repeating the movement, and you feel like if you weren't currently speared on his dick you might float away into nothing. All you're aware of anymore is the way Jin's cock is rubbing nerves you didn't know existed, the gooey fire he's grinding out of your clit and sending out to every finger tip.

You're not sure how long you're in that haze, how long Jin's hips are rutting against yours as curses at the way your traitorous walls are sucking him deeper. But the pressure keeps building, and building, and building, and a faraway part of you panics, thinks that if you go over the edge you'll never stop falling.

"Cum for me, baby," Jin growls, eyes glued to your face as you fight the inevitable. You screw your eyes shut, but there's no escaping the steady, mind-melting friction as he mercilessly grinds his cock into you.

"N-no," you slur in a broken voice that doesn't even sound real anymore, your core throbbing with need. You're too fucked out too move, tied up and unable to do anything but let him keep rubbing you raw. The pressure is unbearable and you feel more tears spill down your face. "No, I can't, I can't."

Jin just moans in appreciation as he watches your rapidly unraveling expression. You look absolutely debauched, eyes wet and glassy, a trickle of blood running down from where you've bitten into your lip, chest rising and falling in pants and moaned protests.

"No," you hiccup as he works you over, relentless and insatiable. He's ruthless in his quest to discover everything you have to offer, his filthy sweet words and praises only adding to the tempest overwhelming your body. You sob for him to stop as the pressure of his stretch and the relentless friction on your clit consume you. "Nonon-ohhhmygodddd!"

Your protests end in a wail as the dam bursts, your entire body spasming uncontrollably as Jin lets out a destroyed groan. You don't hear him, lost to the waves of color wracking your frame as you cum and cum and fucking cum.

"Holy shit baby," Seokjin gasps as you drench his thighs and mattress, hips bucking against him as you ride out the heat flooding your veins. You're barely aware of it, though when he starts fucking into you again you let out a sweet little whine that just drives him more wild.

"You feel so good," he grunts, pace unsteady your cunt clamps down on his pulsing cock. "Squeezing me so tight, like you want me to fill you up."

You gasp in alarm as his words register through your fading high, and Jin smirks down at your glazed eyes.

"You like that?" he asks roughly, hips stuttering even more as you writhe beneath him. "You want me to make you mine?"

You try to protest, but nothing comes out of your mouth but humiliating, wrecked moans each time he thrusts into your twitching cunt. His motions grow rougher, more erratic and when you try to wiggle your ass away all he does is slam you back onto him so hard you see stars. It's clear he's blown straight past any potential stop sign, and the desperate grunts coming from his throat are enough for your body to betray you as your walls clamp down on his length once more.

He buries himself deep with a wrecked groan and you feel his cock twitch as he empties himself inside you. You let out a strangled sound halfway between a protest and a moan, spent and defeated as Jin pants and collapses onto you. He buries his face in your neck, pressing soft kisses against your skin and you're torn between enjoying his tenderness and wanting to scream.

"God, you're so perfect," he sighs as he nuzzles your ear. You can't speak, still trying to get your brain to form a coherent thought. At least it's over, and he can hopefully leave you to your shame and horror as you try to unpack what he's done and your own body's reactions to his ministrations.

Seokjin hoists himself up to his elbows, still inside you, and gives you a smile so sweet and adoring you find it hard to reconcile him with the man who just fucked the living daylights out of you.

"I didn't know you could do that," he says with a grin, and you blink at him in confusion. He laughs and kisses your nose, before gesturing to the giant wet spot you're both currently laying in.

"Oh," is all that comes out. You're too exhausted to even be surprised or grossed out that you're right on top of it. "Me neither."

"Just for me, huh," he murmurs lovingly, eyes darkening as he traces your cheek with his fingers. You feel his cock begin to swell inside of you and your eyes widen in alarm despite the whisper of ecstacy it sends through you.

"Jin, I can't handle another round," you plead pitifully, fear filling you at the thought of surviving another session like that. Your throat is raw from screaming, your wrists are chafed from your struggles, and your poor pussy is swollen and sore, unused to so much punishment.

"Of course you can," he replies, giving a shallow thrust that has your traitorous body arching into him again. The squelch from the mixture of his seed and your own arousal makes you want to cry. "See?"

"Please," you beg again, as if it had worked at all the previous times you had tried. He just smiles, one hand cupping your cheek lovingly as the other trails down to where the two of you are connected.

"It's okay, baby," he soothes, brushing his fingers lightly over your abused clit and swallowing your moan with his lips. "You're perfect for me, after all."

~~~~~

#kim seokjin x reader #kim seokjin x you #yandere kim seokjin #dead dove do not eat #yandere seokjin #seriously this is just depraved self indulgence #tw noncon #noncon tw #tw dark content #tw nonconsensual

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writing-whump · 2 months ago

Text

The Breaking Point

Seline and Isaiah have a TALK. Some pain and breathing problems after heart surgery mentioned.

"Are you feeling nauseous?" Seline asked as she adjusted the pillow behind Isaiah's back on the couch.

"Uhm," was the elaborative answer. She suppressed the urge to roll her eyes.

She fought tooth and nail for Isaiah's release from the hospital once she was sure she understood everything the recovery phase would entail. Arguing with the doctors, telling the nurses that the hospital was too much of an incubator of germs in Isaiah's condition and that as a wolf, he would feel more comfortable with his pack and territory at home.

What she didn't expect was Isaiah shutting down. Wasn't it supposed to get easier instead of harder?

Isaiah's lips were pressed in a tight line and he was had that sickly paleness about him that made it hard to gauge his state. His cheeks were gaunt, he lost weight in that one week at the hospital, only on IVs.

Although he could handle food now, the long list of medications he was adjusting to - from beta-blockers to blood-thinners like warfarin to aspirin to help with blood clots - had the unnerving side-effect of causing nausea.

He could get nausous from not eating and from eating and not eating the right stuff. Honestly, she didn't know what issue to adress first.

But Isaiah just watched her sullenly, set on not revealing a single helpful detail. Jesus Christ. It was like a time loop, like they were not getting anywhere, not learning anything.

Matthew was still crouched down, unlacing Isaiah's shoes. Bending down was not recommended after the surgery. As was no heavy lifting. Or strenuous exercise.

The more she kept mentioning it, the more sullen and unreadable his expression became.

Seriously. How was she supposed to handle it, if he didn't voice his pain? What issues to talk over?

"You don't have to stay, you know?" He said suddenly, leaning his head back on the couch.

"Excuse me?" Seline stumbled down to the couch, not sure she heard right.

Isaiah's lips twisted, but he still glared up at the ceiling. "What, you think I wouldn't notice? You keep listing the medications and all my limits and things that make me fragile and sick or whatever, but you are so disgusted you can't even look at me."

Seline felt her mouth fall open in a little o. She threw a helpless look at Matt, but he just shrugged. Looking all the way like he just wanted to hide under the bed and wait for the storm to pass.

Her hands closed in the firsts on the armrests. "So that's what you think? That I'm disgusted with you?"

"Yeah. And I'm sorry for getting sick, I truly am," Isaiah said, nonchalantly daggering her heart, "I tried my best. I tried to get better, to be happy to compensate for the stress from the previous years. I thought it would go away on its own. I'm sorry I disappointed you-"

"No."

"No? Am I wrong?" Isaiah said in challange, finally lifting his head. His vibrant green eyes were shining feverishly. At the back of her mind it hit her with concern, since the doctors said he might sport a low-grade fever for an entire month after the surgery.

"I'm not disgusted with you," Seline said slowly, still stunned. "I'm angry with you, you moron!" She jumped to her feet, pacing around the room. From the corner of the eye she could see Matthew taking the pharmacy bag and slithering away to the kitchen with a flinch.

"I can't believe it! You don't even know what you have done!"

Isaiah frowned, a hand subconsciously curling around his chest like it hurt to breathe. "What I have done...?"

"You kept it a secret! You were in pain for months, dizzy, nausous, everything and you. Didn't. Tell. Me." Her voice jumped up an octave and she had to swallow down against the emotion tightening her throat. "You have any idea how that felt, standing in front of that doctor asking me how long your problems been going on and not being able to answer? I felt like an outsider in my own relationship!"

Isaiah looked dumbfounded, like that had never crossed his mind at all.

She whirled around, eyes wide, cheeks flushed. "And the worst part is, that I didn't notice myself. It was partly my fault, maybe even half of the whole thing. More than Matthew's even, because at least he noticed."

"That was an accident, I didn't want him to know either-"

"Did you choose me because of that? Because you knew I would be ignorant, that I live in my own world, in my books and studies and writing and wouldn't push you to handle the hard parts?" She ignored how her eyes burned, practically screaming now.

"What? No!" Isaiah struggled to sit up straight, even paler than before, almost like a wax figurine. He took a long, laborious breath, wincing as he exhaled.

Regret and guilt shot through her like an arrow. "Isaiah, let's- let's stop this. I'm sorry, we shouldn't have started this when you're still-"

"I- I was trying to spare you," he wheezed. "You think this is easy for me? That I wanted to be this pathetic, weak and pained in front of you?!"

Seline stopped in her tracks, amazed and reluctant all at once. That was the first time he had ever raised his voice at her. More like croaked, but it was there.

"I wanted to deal with this myself. It was my family, my past, my dad who messed me up like this-" he coughed, hand now pressed against the incision side of his chest. "You think I wanted this for you? A partner in life with thousand of issues? Who is a burden to you?"

Seline sat down on the sofa next to him, reaching out her hand towards his, but he shook her off.

"Don't you dare suggest it was your fault," his voice was a whisper, but cutting like a knife. "That it had anything to do with you. You did everything right. You are perfect, understanding, confident, brilliant, with a loving family and artistic passions and-" he coughed again, chest rattling painfully as he struggled in to get enough air.

"Okay, lean back, Isaiah, lean back a bit." She out another pillow behind his back to prop him up. "Deep breaths, you are alright."

Isaiah obeyed, closing his eyes. His breathing was still so chocked up.

"If it hurts, I can give you the nitroglycerin tablet. It melts under the tongue and should have an immediate effect." Seline’s hands trembled slightly as she rubbed Isaiah’s arm. "You can't stress yourself out like this."

"Just—just give me a minute," Isaiah said. He didn't turn her hand away this time, so she sat there unmoving, trying to gauge her intervention from the changing colours on his face.

When he breathed in with relief, though shoulders still tense, she let out a breath too. "Want some water? Painkillers?"

Isaiah gave a tiny shake of his head, a no. "I need you...to understand..."

"We are not talking about this right now," she said sternly.

"No...we..." He took her hand in hers then, entwining their fingers. "I was in...denial. I wanted it...to go away...if I was happy...shouldn't it? I thought it would get...better and you wouldn't have to..."

"Isaiah," she said in a small voice, brushing the black bangs out of his eyes. He got all sweaty in those last five minutes. "You are such a fool. You know how many points you have over me?"

Isaiah squinted his eyes open, rolling towards her tiredly. "Points...?"

Seline nodded. "I keep a score. All the things you do for me versus those that I can do for you. I started counting so it wouldn't be too uneven in your favour." She pushed a blond curl behind her ear self-consciously. "But it still is. You do so much for me, for Matt, for the packs, for anyone who asks for your help. I can never get anywhere close. 100 points is quite the headstart, isn't it?"

Isaiah frowned deeply, breathing shakily.

"So you don't have to worry about being a burden or that we are taking care of you. You have done so much for us, this is the least to repay you."

"That's not-"

"It's not the main reason," she leaned her forehead against his shoulder. Just a gentle touch, no real weight behind it. "I want to do this for you. I want to be there for you. To be able to." She looked down at their hands holding each other. "Why won't you let me in?" she whispered. "What am I doing wrong that you keep pushing me away?"

Isaiah tugged his hand out of her grasp, and her heart sank. For a moment, he just looked at her, his expression caught between pain and something else—fear, maybe. Then, before she could fully process the look in his eyes, he put both his arms around her, squeezing her against his chest so tightly it hurt. His feverishly warm lips brushed against her temple.

"I love you," he whispered.

Seline let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding, her arms wrapping around him in return. Something inside her heart clicked back into place. Warmth flooded her from her toes to the top of her head, mixing with the hurt, the tension, the love.

She sniffled and he winced, gently pushing her away just enough to see her face. The tears spilled over both her eyes at once, but she smiled at him. "So? How are you feeling?"

"Better than yesterday, worse than tomorrow," he said, bumping their noses together. "My chest hurts. And it's...hard to breathe still. Shooting up and over...to my arms, you know?"

She sighed in relief at the admission, her wet cheek pressed against his. "I got something for that."

#sickfic #hurt/comfort #angst #post op #chest pain #heart issues #my writing #werewolf wip #Isaiah

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walkingstackofbooks · 4 months ago

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(part 1 here)

The truth was, that Julian had collapsed in the infirmary due to his own damned stupidity. He hadn't been neglecting himself on purpose, but he'd known that he'd been struggling with eating and sleeping recently, and he really should have been keeping better track of when he'd had meals, of when he'd managed to catch a few hours of rest. But no, that had apparently been too difficult a task for him, and as a result he was now sat here, in Sisko's office, unable to provide a good explanation to his captain.

Sisko had given him his time -- hell, Julian had been given an entire day's reprieve to come up with a suitable lie -- and his captain was now sitting opposite him patiently, but expectantly. And there were half a dozen plausible lies that Julian could tell Sisko, if he wanted to.

Julian didn't really want to, though. Ignoring the one, big exception that had been concealing his enhancements, he wasn't all that great at deception, and lying had always left a gnawing, nauseous pit in his stomach -- that one, big exception included.

And some part of him -- a treacherous, reckless part -- genuinely wanted Sisko to know the truth. Yearned for it, in fact. It would be such a relief to finally confess that he wasn't doing well at all, he was really struggling, actually, and everything was just far too much and even eating was hard, and while he wasn't having nightmares he would wake up with such a sense of dread and loneliness and fear that he'd really rather not sleep at all sometimes and that yes, he was probably suffering from depression and needed help, or at least a hug and an affirmation that it was okay, he was doing a good job...

Quickly, he swatted that thought away before he could be tempted to act on it. Admitting to anything like that would only cause trouble, and besides, that insidious voice was far too eager to exaggerate his problems. He was fine, he continued to insist to himself sternly, there's a war on, everyone's depressed right now, and it was just a minor, stupid lapse in judgement... But it would be a major, terrible lapse in judgement if he didn't come up with something to say to Sisko soon.

Because if he told Sisko the truth -- he'd forgotten a few meals, he hadn't slept much for a few nights, but really, Captain, it's not a big deal -- the captain would almost certainly make as big a deal out of it as he secretly hoped for. But it wouldn't end up the way his fantasies always did, being inundated with invitations from his friends to spend time with them, to stay for dinner, to stay the night... No. He'd be sent away from DS9, off to some recovery centre that actually had a counsellor who wasn't just the young-CMO-with-shaky-mental-health-himself.

And in an ideal world, that would allow him the chance to start healing.... but he simply couldn't imagine any happy outcome resulting from leaving DS9. Besides the matter of how selfish it would be to leave everyone now, in the middle of the war, just because he was feeling a bit off, he was also all-too-aware that Starfleet's eyes had been on him ever since his genetic status had been revealed. Any indication of mental instability could well be pounced upon as an excuse to cashier him from the service, to finally get rid of that augment, allowing the enhanced-Starfleet-Officer-experiment to be written off as a failure once and for all.

With such a lot riding on this one lie -- why hadn't he taken better care of himself, why had he insisted in doing that surgery when he should have known better?! -- Julian would count himself lucky if he managed to leave the office without breaking down into a panic attack. Which would be about the worst thing possible for him to do right now.

"Julian, what is it?" Sisko asked. Julian's time was up. He shook his head to clear it -- why couldn't he just lie, dammit, he'd always managed to before when the stakes were this high!

"You're starting to worry me," Sisko said, leaning forward across the desk. "Come on, whatever it is, you can tell me."

"I can't," whispered Julian. "I'm sorry, sir, I know that's not what you want to hear... but I can't. I can't tell you why and I-- I need to go. I'm sorry."

Anxiety bubbled within him as he pushed his chair away and made a hasty retreat for the door, knowing full well that his answer had hardly been any better than telling the truth would have been. At this point, he could only hope that something urgent came up to distract the captain, or else he could certainly expect another visit to his quarters later that day.

"I'm fine, I promise," he added as he reached the door, feeling the need to stick to the line as much for himself as for Sisko. Something stirred in his stomach, a horrible, sick feeling. "Thank you for your concern, sir, but I'm okay."

#julian bashir #depressed julian bashir #season 6 julian bashir #julian bashir fic #ds9 #ds9 fic #benjamin sisko #oh no is this hurt no comfort?#i don't have any more to write rn but i hate leaving julian without any comfort 😭😭😭#oh dear XD #no proofread we die like men XD #if i post this to AO3 it'll get an edit #but it's time for bed so no editing today! :P #andi writes #wsb

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foreveralwaysanauthor · 6 months ago

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Same Trailer, Different Park

(Season 1, Episode 1 - A Slice of Life)

May 14, 2024

Notes - This took a lot longer than I anticipated, but I had a lot going on with work and Mother's Day, so I'm not surprised it took me a bit longer than it normally would have. Anyway, it's here now, it’s 40-something pages long, and I'll be starting on the next one tonight, if everything goes well at work this afternoon!

Waves crashed along the shore, lapping calmly against the sand as emerald eyes scoured for shells along the water’s edge. Salty ocean air mingled with the distant smell of grilled foods as Vivien walked along the beach. Hours had passed since her arrival in St. Pete Beach, but the crowded restaurant everyone seemed to love just wasn’t her scene. Crowded places, in general, weren’t something Vivien cared for - bar the occasional mall trip, that was - but after being shuffled around for what felt like forever, listening to people sing and being shown off like a shiny trophy, she grew tired of the crowds and excused herself.

Royce and Bentley had been eager to show her off to, well, everyone they knew in Big Momma’s, but after a while, Vivien had found it hard to keep track of all the names and faces she’d been introduced to. By the time they were done showing her off, it was time for Royce to return to work, so Bentley was quick to pull her over to the booth where they were eating. That did nothing to stop the crowd from gathering at their table, making Vivien’s chest tighten as they herded around the end of the table. Claustrophobia settled in, pinning her to the booth like a wall of concrete had fallen on her from above, but it wasn’t until Carrie said something about ordering her something to eat that people began moving away.

Unable to even think of food without feeling nauseous, Vivien excused herself and ducked out through the kitchen, ducking as she scooted past the restaurant’s windows and made her way around the building to the beach. Although it didn’t take long for her to finally relax once she was away from the chaos, Vivien found herself incapable of forcing herself back inside. The thought of admitting her fears and potentially facing the swarm of people not only interested in her but also in her relationship with Royce made her breath catch in her throat, and she ultimately decided to continue along the water’s edge, keeping her distance from any rogue sun tanners or volleyball players as she went.

Her sneakers had been abandoned at some point and were tied by their laces around the belt Lela had loaned her, the Converse tapping her thigh and cascading sand down her legs with every step she took. She made sure not to stray too far from the restaurant in case anyone went searching for her, but as the collection of tiny shells in her hand began to grow, she wondered if they had chosen to let her come back when she wanted to. Examining another moon snail shell and finding it still had a little critter living inside, Vivien waited for a wave to roll in by her feet and released it back to the ocean before choosing to turn around and venture back toward the restaurant.

In the back of her mind, she wondered if anybody owned a metal detector. Her dad had taught her how to use one during their annual road trip to Hampton Beach back when her parents were still married. Though it felt like forever ago, she could distinctly recall the excitement she felt when the machine started beeping and her subsequent disappointment when they found it was just a dirty quarter that had fallen from someone’s pocket. Despite her initial dissatisfaction at the discovery, Vivien had refused to leave until she found something else, and when she later discovered someone’s watch buried in the sand on their way to their hotel for the night, her excitement returned. Nowadays, their trips to the beach were few and far between, but Vivien’s memories of happier days with her family still lived on.

As a group of people left Big Momma’s, laughing and chattering loudly as they grabbed their surfboards and took off for the waves, Vivien took in a deep breath and wondered how many people still crowded the restaurant. Checking the cell phone she had tucked into her back pocket, Vivien sighed - it was just barely two in the afternoon. The lunch rush would soon be replaced with the dinner rush, and she would be bombarded by yet another crowd of rowdy surfers and boisterous bikers, all clamoring for a chance to speak with the new girl who had somehow managed to be the object of Royce’s affection.

They meant well - Vivien knew they did - but it was all too much, too quickly. She could handle being the drummer at the back of the stage that hardly anyone conversed with after performances, letting Riven do all the talking in interviews whenever they won a competition, and being the last one to talk during group presentations, but being the main focus of everyone’s attention - be it a big or small crowd - had never been easy for her. Honestly, it was a miracle she didn’t pass out in the booth right then and there. If it hadn’t been for Carrie stepping up and gently pushing people away with her signature, beaming smile and a thinly veiled promise for autographs if they left them alone long enough to have a meal, Vivien was sure she would have been on the floor, surrounded by worried patrons.

The idea of that crowd surrounding her and being the first thing she’d see when she came to, sent a shiver down Vivien’s spine despite the Florida heat. Yeah, that would have only made things worse. Bentley had tried to help her while the crowds cornered them, holding her hand and offering her a small smile that appeared apologetic as he tried to combat as many questions for her as the people allowed. In a way, Vivien knew he must have dealt with a similar situation upon his arrival in the small town. She could only imagine him and Royce standing in the center of Big Momma’s, being fawned over by anyone who even minutely considered Miles a friend. They probably handled it far better than she had.

They probably had warnings ahead of time. Bentley most likely handled them with ease, spouting off answers to every question with a cheerful smile and the enthusiasm of a child who still believed in Santa Claus. Royce, on the other hand, probably wasn’t much better than Vivien. As ambiverted as he was, he most likely only began to enjoy the sudden popularity once he realized it was both temporary and commonplace in the small community. Vivien’s reaction to the whole thing probably felt a bit overboard to the people in the restaurant, but being thrust into the spotlight and surrounded by total strangers in a small booth with no easy way to escape made it feel as though the world was closing in around her.

Vivien sighed to herself as she stared out at the surfers gliding over the warm water of the Gulf of Mexico. Maybe she should have gone back to the restaurant. Maybe she was just overreacting. Swallowing thickly, Vivien hoped nobody thought she was being rude for just up and leaving once she had a way out. In a way, she knew she was, but her quick departure had nothing to do with the people and everything to do with the little person in her head pressing the panic button every time someone aimed another question at her. How on earth celebrities could handle the constant spotlight and pressing questions, she would never know.

Wandering down the beach, Vivien let out a noise as she tripped over a beach bag she was sure hadn’t been there a moment ago, stumbling through the sand with an apology tumbling out of her mouth as she righted herself. The beach-goer simply waved her off and returned to the book they were reading, and with a sigh, Vivien continued her trek, only stopping as a voice called out to her, “You alright, kid?”

Squinting as the person jogged over to her, Vivien shrugged, toying with the handful of shells in her hand as she said, “I’m fine, Miles.”

The taller brunette sighed, his hands placed firmly on his hips in what Vivien could only consider to be a “dad pose” as he said, “You’re not.”

“It’s nothing,” Vivien offered, hoping to brush the whole situation under the rug. “Did the food come yet?”

“First of all,” Miles began with a somewhat disappointed look in his gaze, “you didn’t even order. Second, don’t change the subject on me. I’ve known you for long enough to know when you’re not alright.” Placing a hand on Vivien’s arm, he asked, “You know you can talk to me, right, Viv?”

Not wanting to upset the boy who was only trying to help, Vivien admitted, “I don’t like people.”

Miles chuckled, “Tell me how you really feel.”

Vivien looked up at Miles, ready to argue, before rolling her eyes as she took in the genuine humor in his eyes, “You know what I mean.” Huffing a sigh as she began walking again, Vivien admitted, “Crowds, crowded people, being the center of attention - that kind of thing. I get all claustrophobic and shit.”

Humming in understanding, Miles followed alongside the younger girl and brought an arm around her shoulders as he asked, “What happens?”

“I can’t breathe, I can’t think,” Vivien shrugged. “I remember this one time that we were at a competition, and a bunch of people with cameras came around, and I ended up passing out.”

“Damn,” Miles breathed. “Was it that bad in there for you?”

“Getting there,” Vivien sighed, leaning her head against Miles as he guided her back toward the restaurant. “I went out through the kitchen the first chance I got.”

Miles glanced around at the beach, taking in a slow breath that encouraged Vivien to do the same, “Did the fresh air help?”

“Mhm,” she nodded against his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Miles said firmly as he guided Vivien toward an empty table on the front porch of the restaurant. “I, of all people, understand how hard it is to be the new kid in town. Why don’t you sit out here for a bit? I’ll get the others, and we can eat out here.”

Vivien was quick to shake her head, “I don’t want to make them drop everything and come out just because of me. I can handle it.”

“But you don’t have to,” Miles argued sincerely. “And, for the record, nobody’s going to mind moving out here if it means we don’t have to call an ambulance for you on your first day here. Besides, if anything, it gives Royce an excuse to be our waiter.”

At that, Vivien paused, her argument dying in her throat. The idea of going back into the crowded restaurant just to sit there, hoping no people crowded their table while they ate, was mildly overwhelming. Whilst she didn’t care for the notion of making everyone abandon their usual places in their favorite hangout spot, she knew it would be easier to sit outside. And, to top it all off, Miles’ suggestion that Royce would be coming to their table more frequently made her answer seem even more obvious. Finding the courage to meet Miles’ concerned blue eyes, Vivien allowed herself to nod, muttering a soft thanks as he smiled back at her.

“Don’t thank me yet,” he chuckled, patting her on the shoulder before making his way toward the front door. “You had Carrie thinking you somehow climbed out the bathroom window and ran away.”

Feeling embarrassment flood her face again, Vivien sat so that she could see the beach and began tapping her feet on the wooden deck as she distantly examined the menu before her. Though the thought of making everyone eat outside rather than inside, where the overhead fans kept everyone as cool as a cucumber, made her disappointed in herself for not being able to pull herself together in a new environment, Vivien knew Miles’ encouragement for her to choose the safest option for herself, would ultimately be the best decision in the end. It wasn’t long before Mack and Brady emerged from the restaurant, scanning the area before finding Vivien and dragging another table and handful of chairs over to meet hers.

As Mack pushed a chair in, she said, “You know, you’re not the first person to find this whole place a bit much.”

“I’m not?” Vivien asked, setting the menu down as she glanced up at the woman.

Mack laughed, shaking her head, “My first time here, I was thrown head-first into a musical number and made to dance in the center of the room with all of the other surfers and bikers. If you think I wasn’t ready to run the second it started, you’re dead wrong.”

Vivien let out a soft chuckle but, after taking a deep breath, decided to ask, “Is it always like that in there? Chaos?”

“Not all the time,” Brady offered. “Once they get used to you, you’ll meld into one group or another, and they’ll leave you alone.”

“From the sound of it, though,” Mack began with a grin, “they’re more interested in how you ended up with Royce.”

Vivien scoffed, fighting the urge to roll her eyes as she asked, “Is it really that big of a deal?”

“To them, yeah,” Brady claimed. “Since he got here, Royce hasn’t shown a deep interest in anyone. When he came back from Christmas vacation and claimed he had a girlfriend, not a lot of people believed him.”

Mack hummed, nodding in agreement as she spoke, “I think that seeing you show up all of a sudden made everyone want to know what was so special about you that he pushed aside any offers from other girls at school.”

Vivien nodded, but as the others began to pour out of the building, her mind drifted to the thought of random girls at Royce’s school asking him out. Was it just something Mack had said to ease her mind, or was it a fact that others had tried asking him out? Vivien knew he had gone on a date before, but that he and the girl - Samantha, Serenity, something with an S - only went on one relatively awful date a few months before he even met Vivien. They had talked about their previous relationships - or lack thereof - but Royce had never mentioned anything about girls asking him out at school. Vivien could understand if girls had been asking him out - hell, that’s how she ended up with him - but to think that he had been turning them away without a second thought brought a smile to Vivien’s face.

She had to wonder, though, if it was true. Royce was the kind to get on the phone with her, listen to her blabber on and on about her day, and then do the same while she listened intently. Never had he mentioned letting down girls from his school. If it was true, he had no reason to keep it from her; she wasn’t a jealous person, after all, and they both knew that. Shaking her head with a smile as Bentley raised an eyebrow curiously at her, Vivien brushed off the thought and focused on asking everyone what they thought would be the best thing for her to order.

When Royce made his first appearance at the table, he stepped around Bentley’s chair at the end of the table and stepped up behind Vivien, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and asking if she was alright before beginning to write out their orders. Tipping her head to the side to watch as Royce scribbled out Bentley’s presumably habitual order of chicken tenders and fries, Vivien smiled up at her boyfriend as she watched him fondly. Her staring became evident as it became her turn to order, but as she’d been more focused on him than on the menu before her, Vivien stumbled over her words and hastily scanned the page in search of something to eat.

With a chuckle, Royce lowered himself to the floor beside her and softly said, “You don’t have to rush. The longer you take to order, the longer I’m able to stay out here with you.”

Vivien glanced back at him, ready to argue that it wasn’t right for him to ignore his other tables just to spend time with her, but found the words trapped in her throat as she nodded dumbly. Clearing her throat, she asked, “Well, what do you think I should get? You know this place more than I do.”

Tawny eyes scanned over the menu with ease, and Vivien found herself following his finger as he pointed at a few different things. “You like mac and cheese, so the mac and cheese bites are right up your alley, but they’re only in small portions, so if you get them with a burger, hot dog, or maybe some fish and get a cup of nacho cheese on the side, it would be good, but that’s just what I think. You don’t have to get it.”

Eyeing the small image of a basket of fried balls of mac and cheese, Vivien smiled and nodded, “Actually, I think that’s just what I’ll get. Haddock with mac and cheese bites, please.”

Royce smiled as he wrote her order on his notepad and asked, “Baked or fried fish?”

Confused by the question, Vivien softly asked, “There’s more than one way to get fish?”

“Yeah,” Royce nodded, a small laugh passing his lips. “How do you usually get yours?”

Opening and closing her mouth like a fish out of water, Vivien muttered, “I don’t know. My dad usually orders it when we eat out because I always go up to get stuff from the salad bar with Mom.” Hurriedly turning and leaning over so that she could see the Birches at the other side of the joined tables, she asked, “Do any of you know what I usually get?”

Brady held in a laugh and nodded knowingly, “Your dad always jokes about baked fish being healthier for you, so when your mom leaves to get her salad, he orders you guys…”

As the older man gestured toward her, the lightbulb inside her head flickered on, and Vivien turned back to her boyfriend with a smile, “Fried!” At the glowing amusement in Royce’s eyes, Vivien cleared her throat and toned down her voice as her face warmed, “I, uh, I mean, fried, please.”

Patting Vivien’s arm as she rested it on the armrest of her chair, Royce smiled and stood, “Alright. I’ll be back in a bit.”

Vivien nodded, smiling up at her boyfriend until he disappeared into the restaurant once more, and she was free to let out an uncomfortable groan as she placed her hands over her face. “I feel like a complete moron.”

Entertained by the girl’s mortification, Bentley shrugged and set his bottle of soda back on the table as he teased, “If the shoe fits.”

Miles choked on his drink, fighting to swallow his soda before coughing, “Bentley!”

Vivien was quick to brush off the remark, her smile evidence that she didn’t take the comment to heart in the slightest. “Miles, it’s fine. I thought it was funny,” she claimed with a small laugh. Turning her attention onto the blonde to her right, she asked, “So, do you have anything fun in mind that we can do while I’m here?”

Bentley was quick to nod, “I’ve already been thinking of places we should take you to and things we should do.”

“I’m not surprised,” Vivien commented with a grin. “Care to fill me in, or is it all a surprise?”

“Not all of it,” Bentley shrugged. “We can go to the record shop, and you can meet some of our friends from school and all of that stuff, but first, I have a question.”

Vivien let out a soft snort, “I might have an answer.”

Eager, Bentley beamed as he asked, “Are you gonna be staying with us while you’re here?”

“Benny,” Miles sighed, “where are we going to put her?”

“We have an extra room,” Bentley said as though it should have occurred to Miles.

Glancing at the blond boy, Carrie asked, “I thought you were going to move into that room once Miles got it cleaned out?”

“But Viv’s here now. I can wait,” Bentley brushed off with a wave of his hand. “And, for your information, I like sharing a room with Royce.”

“I never said you didn’t,” Carrie said with a shrug, brushing off the boy’s faintly snippy tone with a sigh.

Choosing to ignore the blonde, Bentley turned his pleading blue eyes onto Miles and said, “Anyway, my point is, we have a whole spare room she can use if we clean it out.”

Weakened by his brother’s powerful puppy dog eyes, Miles took in a breath and sighed, “Baby, I don’t even know where we’re going to put all of that stuff. It’s not like the cabin or our old place. We don’t have a basement to shove stuff in.”

“You don’t?” Vivien wondered, bewildered by the idea of any home not having a basement. As Miles shook his head, Bentley looked ready to whine his way to victory, but Vivien quickly jumped in, “Well, if it’s any help, I like organizing things.”

Mick let out a snort from her seat beside Vivien, “Yeah, except your closet.”

Vivien discretely flipped the older girl the bird before directing her attention back to Miles, “What I mean is that I can help put everything wherever you need it, if that’s any help to you.”

“See?” Bentley asked with a smile. “She’s even willing to help us! Can she stay with us now?”

Spotting the look of worry on Miles’ face at potentially having another mouth to feed with his already tight budget, Butchy piped up, “Actually, bud, Viv was supposed to stay with Mickie, Lela, and I.”

Bentley’s head tipped to the side, his confusion evident as he simply asked, “Where?”

“What do you mean?” Lela asked.

“With Aunt Mack and Uncle Brady in Miles’ old room, where is she going to sleep?” Bentley rephrased. “The couch?”

Miles evaded Bentley’s curiosity, glancing pleadingly toward his friends and silently asking them for help with the situation. However, it was Carrie who tried next, “When we went to Mick’s house for that Valentine’s party, Vivi and I talked on that video call thing about her staying in my apartment for a while if she ever came to visit.”

Butchy scoffed, and Vivien could almost hear him roll his eyes at the blonde from across the table as he said, “I can’t imagine anyone, especially Vivien, willingly staying under the same roof as you for any amount of time.”

Vivien made an attempt to cut in, hoping to keep the energy around the table calm before Royce returned with the food, but she was quickly interrupted as Carrie said, “Vivi and I are friends, dipshit. Right, Vivi?”

Again, Vivien opened her mouth to reply, but Butchy spoke up, “Just because you two have talked all of - what? - two times since she found out about this world, doesn’t make you friends.”

“Actually-” Vivien began, ready to defend the blonde as gently as possible, only to be cut off.

“Says the asshole who won’t even let her talk!” Carrie exclaimed.

Determined to stop things before they could escalate, Vivien tried again, “Guys, I-“

“You’re one to talk,” Butchy scoffed. “Look, just because your head’s so far up your own ass that your idea of friendship is a few little chit-chats here and there, Cole, doesn’t mean it has to be that way for the rest of us.”

As the argument continued, Vivien looked around the table. Although nobody seemed keen on stopping the pair from fighting, Bentley had pushed himself back in his chair, his eyes glued to his lap while Miles held his hand on the table, Mack and Brady appeared exasperated by the argument, though neither seemed ready to step in as both offending parties were still arguing at a relatively normal volume, and Mick and Lela just sat quietly, both seeming tired of the pair’s fights occurring so often. Tired of being spoken over, angered by the conversation spiraling out of control, and upset that nobody else seemed half as bothered as she was, Vivien took in a deep breath and thumped her fist on the table, causing those around her to jump at the noise as she turned toward the arguing pair, and snapped, “Enough! Can both of you just stop?”

Silence fell over the table as Vivien’s gaze flickered between the pair, the group watching as the usually argumentative pair fell silent. Whether it was due to the girl’s tone or the pleading look in her eyes, neither Carrie nor Butchy could be sure, but regardless, they felt their quarrel die in the silence as Vivien’s piercing emerald eyes flickered between them, effectively staring them down. With the table sitting in silence and the verbal smackdown extinguished, Vivien felt herself growing uncomfortable as she began to feel the various pairs of eyes flitting between her and the others. Sucking in a breath, she softly apologized and sunk back in her chair, hoping the cushion behind her would swallow her embarrassment.

“Viv?” Bentley asked softly, placing a hand atop the girl’s closed fist.

Letting out the rest of her breath in a sigh, Vivien opened her hand to hold Bentley’s, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have raised my voice like that, especially in public.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Brady said with a shake of his head. “Are you okay?”

Not willing to look up from an old scratch she has found on the table as her leg began bouncing again under it, Vivien shrugged, “I’m fine, it’s just-” she cut herself off with a huff, taking a moment to think about what she wanted to say. Glancing at the older couple at the end of the table, she admitted, “My parents have been arguing a lot the last week or so because Dad told Oliver he could join his boyfriend’s family on a trip during summer break, but they never asked her what she thought about it before agreeing, and I’ve had to step in to stop them a few times so Mom wouldn’t cancel all of the trips we had planned for this week. I guess I just… I wanted to stop their fight before it got worse like my parents’ have been.”

Before the others could think of something to say, Bentley grinned and squeezed Vivien’s hand, gaining her attention as he spoke, “Butchy and Carrie don’t get much worse than that. They insult each other and play tetherball with nasty remarks until someone stops them, or they get sick of each other.”

“Or one shoves the other into the town pool,” Royce commented as he stepped outside with a wide tray of food in plastic baskets with pieces of wax paper preventing anything from spilling.

Vivien attempted a small chuckle as her boyfriend placed her basket of fish before her, looking up at him as she asked, “And how often does that happen?”

As Carrie opened her mouth to respond, Bentley took his food from his brother and beamed, “Butchy’s only shoved Carrie into the pool once so far, but their fighting is pretty much an everyday thing.”

Glancing away from the brothers, who both seemed to enjoy the memory of Carrie getting pushed into the pool by the metaphorical guard dog of their mismatched, makeshift family, Vivien looked around the table and asked, “Why don’t you just lock them in a room until they work things out?”

Without allowing Butchy the chance to voice his opinion, Mick gave Vivien a look and answered, “Because they’d both come out of it in body bags if we did.”

Snorting a laugh, Vivien allowed her gaze to drift back onto her boyfriend, watching as he circled the table before coming to a stop behind her and tucking his tray under his arm. With her head tipped back, she smiled up at him and mouthed a greeting as he chuckled at her. With his free hand, Royce tapped the tip of her nose before asking if she was alright.

Incapable of wiping the smile from her face now that he was present, Vivien, in turn, asked, “What time do you get off of work?”

Out of habit, Royce shrugged, “I get out in about an hour, so two o’clock. Why?”

“That’s when I’ll be alright,” Vivien decided. “I’ll be fine in the meantime, but the moment you get to clock out and join the rest of us wherever they choose to take me, is when I’ll actually be alright.”

A deep shade of pink began to flush Royce’s cheeks, peeking through the tan the Floridian sun had graced him with over his time living in the state, but he chose to ignore the burn under his skin as he grinned at the brunette seated before him. “Well, in that case, I might just go inside and start putting all the clocks ahead an hour.”

Vivien smirked, “I won’t tell if you won’t.”

“Deal,” Royce smiled. As though he had only just remembered the others sitting around the table, Royce glanced around and quickly said, “I’ll check on you guys in a few. I have to clear some tables.”

Grinning at the blush still evident on her boyfriend’s face, Vivien teased, “Hurry back.”

Before his older brother could respond in kind, Bentley looked up at Royce and batted his eyes at him as he repeated Vivien, “Yeah, Royce, hurry back!”

Batting the back of his brother’s head with his serving tray, Royce rolled his eyes, “Keep it up and I’ll stop buying you ice cream after school.”

“Nooo,” Bentley whined, grabbing Royce’s wrist and tugging him back to the table. Pressing the back of his free hand to his forehead, he complained, “Whatever will I do without my daily dose of crack?”

“Bentley,” Miles chided as he glanced around to make sure nobody apart from their tables had heard the boy. “You’ve got to stop with the crack thing.”

The young blond snickered, “Says the guy who has some every morning.”

Looking pleadingly at his youngest brother, Miles took in a breath and spoke in a hushed voice, “I don’t do crack.”

“Sure, you do,” Bentley teased, leaning back in his chair and beginning to count on his fingers. “You have some when you wake up, you always take some to work, and sometimes you even have some when you get home. You can’t go a day without it.”

“Ben,” Miles sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose exasperatedly as he realized exactly what Bentley meant. “How on earth does coffee equal crack to you?”

Vivien grinned, nudging Bentley’s arm as she joined the blond’s efforts and asked Miles, “Are you sure you didn’t do crack this morning?”

Looking across the table with wide eyes, Miles shook his head, “What? No.”

“In the bathroom when you got here?”

“No, I-”

“Are you doing some right now?”

“No!” Miles exclaimed with a shake of his head. “Vivien-”

“Then when?” Vivien pressed.

“Never!” Miles barked. “I have never - nor will I ever - do crack!”

“Are you sure?” Bentley questioned.

Beaming from behind Bentley’s chair, Royce spoke up before Miles could, “Are you lying?”

“Yes,” Miles said in response to Bentley before realizing Royce’s question and backpedaling. “Wait, no! Look, you-”

“See how angry you are?” Vivien asked somewhat rhetorically. “It’s the crack.”

“Just admit it,” Bentley said with a sigh, shaking his head at his older brother. “Royce is your faithful crack dealer just as much as he is mine.”

Miles looked between the trio, beginning to wonder if he would regret offering to house the girl if this was what he would be getting himself into. Taking in a breath, he slowly turned to the others sitting around the table and breathed, “I’m going to have an aneurysm with them all together under one roof, aren’t I?”

Mack chuckled as she placed her drink back down on the table, “And you wonder what it’s like for us everytime we take you kids up to the cabin.”

“Does that mean Viv is staying with us while she’s here?” Royce asked, hope glimmering in his caramel eyes.

Hoping to finally get an answer to his earlier question, Bentley’s pale blue irises searched Miles’ face as he pleaded, “Yeah, Miley, does it?”

For a moment, Miles seemed to hesitate, momentarily thrown off by the boys’ complete one-eighty turn from taunting him to begging him for permission to house Vivien. He began to weigh his options - on one hand, the extra room had a bed and a somewhat functional closet for Vivien to put her belongings in until they got the rest of the room cleared out, but on the other, the savings he had been squirreling away to be able to buy better quality gifts for his brothers and Carrie would end up taking a hit if he had another mouth to feed. Ultimately, it was the look of hope in the trio's eyes that sealed his fate, resulting in a somewhat tentative nod from the eldest of the Murphy brothers.

“Yeah, alright,” he allowed, taking a moment to enjoy the simultaneous burst of excitement the three reveled in. With a smile, he then added, “Viv can stay with us, but you guys are going to have your work cut out for you with that bedroom.”

While the three teens began talking about how they would handle everything, Miles felt a hand on his arm, making him turn to the blonde beside him as she softly asked, “Are you sure? I don’t mind taking her back to my place.”

Miles returned her offer with a smile and a shake of his head, “It’s alright. I’ll figure something out for now and we’ll work it all out later on.”

Although he was sure that the subject was far from dropped by anyone around the table apart from the children, Miles tried to relax as the table’s occupants resumed their meal while Royce returned to his duties inside the restaurant. However, despite appearing interested in the conversations that flitted around the table and flowed from topic to topic, a mental jungle gym had already begun construction in Miles’ head. He worked hard all the time to provide for his brothers and still have a small fund set aside for dates with Carrie and days off with the boys - would having the girl stay with them be as difficult as he was making it out to be?

Since he had met her a few years back, Miles knew all too well that Vivien was far from a difficult child. She would eat pretty much anything handed to her, and he had seen her fall asleep practically anywhere she could - she wouldn’t be hard to house. However, Vivien was used to modern things that he didn’t have access to - televisions with more than a few select channels, computers that could find anything in the blink of an eye, internet, social media, and so on - and he could only provide so much. Would she be okay with the severe lack of technology in his fixer-upper of a home?

To top it all off, he knew firsthand how hard it was to stretch meals four ways. When they lived with their father, Miles would make meals every day for the four of them, taking whatever he could find in the fridge or pantry and making up a random recipe that he practically pulled out of his ass. With just his brothers, it was easy enough as they weren’t picky eaters - Pop-Tarts or toast for breakfast, discounted meals at school or work for lunch, and something more fulfilling for supper so that they had at least one meal together where they didn’t have to feel like cheapskates living paycheck to paycheck. Miles could manage that well enough. However, with Vivien not having a job or school to give her something for lunch, he’d have to take her shopping for things to eat throughout the day.

By the time the meal was over, Miles realized he hadn’t followed any of the conversation, his mind too preoccupied with his finances - or lack thereof - to bother listening to anything he wasn’t actively a part of. Once the table was cleared, they broke onto the beach, but Miles chose to sit on the front steps of the restaurant so that he was there when Royce clocked out. Carrie had sat with him for a few minutes before Vivien came over and begged them to join her in building a sandcastle. Miles had smiled and politely declined after explaining his desire to talk with Royce, but he nudged Carrie to join the group, watching the brunette pull his girlfriend away by the hand with a smile.

After discarding his apron and saying a quick farewell to some of his coworkers, Royce made his way out of the restaurant with a sigh, ready to start his three-day break from the place as the sun greeted him. Spotting his brother on the steps, Royce grinned and stepped down next to him, sitting beside Miles and leaning his head on the elder’s shoulder. “I forgot to thank you earlier.”

Glancing down at Royce’s tangled curls, Miles allowed a smirk to tug at his lips as he rested his cheek atop Royce’s head. “Oh yeah? What for?”

“Letting Viv stay with us,” Royce spoke softly as he listened to the waves crash against the shore. Lifting his head from its resting place, Royce found Miles’ baby blue eyes and said, “I’ll help however you need me to. If we need money or anything-”

“No,” Miles breathed, shaking his head lightly. Taking Royce’s hand in his, Miles squeezed it reassuringly. “We already talked about this, baby. I’m not letting you pay for anything.”

Royce’s expression contorted into one of exasperated understanding, “Miley-”

“RJ,” Miles interrupted with a smile, stopping his brother’s argument in its tracks. “I’ve got this. We’ll be alright. The only things you should focus on are work, school, and cleaning that disaster area you and Ben call a bedroom.”

Royce let out a scoff, “That’s more his disaster than it is mine.”

“Tell that to the pretty girl you’ve got staying with us,” Miles chuckled. As he glanced over at the group who were mourning the loss of a sand tower that had crumbled due to lack of moisture, Royce followed his gaze and smiled at the brunette who seemed to glow in the warmth of the Florida sun. Miles grinned at his brother’s expression and watched the group as he said, “The minute she walks in the door, you’ll see every little thing you forgot to clean and wish like hell it would all disappear before she saw anything.”

Royce’s smile seemed to falter as he recalled just how many dishes he’d left in the sink that morning that he was supposed to do after dinner that night, the basket full of freshly done laundry on the floor in his room that he’d neglected to put away and had just been pulling clothes out of for the last few days, and the multitude of books and paperwork strewn about the living room where his and Bentley’s friend groups congregated to work on homework and assignments together. As his gaze landed on Vivien once more, her infectious smile beaming proudly as she carried a snail back to the group alongside her bucket of wet sand, Royce couldn’t help but breathe, “I’m so screwed.”

Miles let out a soft chuckle and patted Royce’s knee as he stood, “Welcome to the club.”

Tearing his gaze away from his girlfriend of nearly four months to peer up at his brother, Royce’s eyebrow lifted and his head tipped to the side ever so slightly as he cautiously asked, “What club?”

Miles grinned, “The Whipped Idiots Committee. Butchy started it, I joined later on, and now, you’re here; congrats. If you’re anything like us, you’ll be here for a while.”

Though, as Miles walked off to join the others, Royce’s first instinct was to tiredly roll his eyes in disgust at the thought of Miles - of all people - feeling “whipped” over someone like Carrie, he found himself stopping to think for a moment. He knew from the relatively short amount of time he knew the man that Butchy was truly, inescapably attached to Mick’s hip; she could ask him anything and he would do it at the drop of a hat for her. And though it disgusted Royce to think about Carrie having Miles wrapped around her manicured little claws, he knew for a fact that if she told him to jump, he’d ask “how high”. Was he really any different from either of them?

If Vivien needed Royce for anything, he would be there in an instant and they both knew it. Hell, everyone who knew about their relationship, knew it. And he knew from experience she would do the same for him. Well… him, his brothers, their collective friend group, and even people he couldn’t stand someone like Carrie. Vivien was a naturally selfless person, but Royce knew that she cared about him and he’d be damned if she didn’t know he was crazy about her. He would do anything she wanted or needed him to do; even when they were just friends, he would have done anything for her, and they both knew it.

Thinking for a moment as he watched Vivien help build a castle in the sand, Royce smiled as he realized Miles was right. He was unconditionally, irrevocably, head-over-heels whipped for the brunette girl he was fortunate enough to call his girlfriend. Was that a problem? If you asked Royce, he would say no, no it wasn’t. Not in the slightest. If anything, he was proud. You could’ve put a plastic cap on his head and shoved him into one of the refrigerators at the grocery store alongside the cans of whipped cream for all he cared. He adored Vivien with all he had, and heaven help anyone who said otherwise.

Pushing himself from the steps with a goofy grin that just wouldn’t go away despite his efforts, Royce tucked his hands into the pockets of his shorts and made his way across the sand to where Vivien had begun decorating a lopsided, half-crumbling sandcastle with the shells she had pocketed on her earlier walk. The way her tongue poked out between her lips in concentration made his grin split into a smile, but as he watched her eyes sparkle as she turned her attention toward him, he felt as though he could have melted into the sand under his feet and he would have died happy right then and there.

Vivien patted the sand on her right, an invitation of sorts that Royce eagerly accepted, his hands immediately filled with a pile of shells as Bentley continued to spout off ideas about things they could do in the area. Although Vivien’s attention was split between the brothers and the castle before her, Royce found himself listening intently as his gaze drifted onto the eldest of his siblings, finding Miles smirking knowingly at him. Royce rolled his eyes, a soft sigh passing his lips as he relented with a shrug. Yeah, Miles was right, but did he have to act like he knew he was right?

Focusing on the task at hand, Royce slid a seashell into one of the sand walls and listened as Bentley began rattling off about places he enjoyed, “There’s a nature preserve that my whole grade went to and we got to feed the alligators, but I don’t know if we would be allowed to since we’re not with the school.”

“It still sounds cool,” Vivien said with a smile. “Is that your favorite place around here?”

Bentley was quick to shake his head, but Miles began teasing him before he could speak, “No, he prefers hanging out with his little girlfriend at the art museum.”

As soon as the words left Miles’ mouth, Bentley’s face scrunched up as a look nobody could quite decipher filled his face and he shook his head, “Kona and I are just friends.”

“Whatever you say, bud,” Butchy chuckled as he and Mick worked on sculpting a moat.

“Kona?” Vivien repeated with a grin. “Like my car?”

“It’s spelled the same,” Royce shrugged. “She moved here from Hawaii not long after we got here and is in the same grade as Bentley.”

Bentley’s smile returned as he explained, “Her parents own this really cool record shop near where Miles works. Her dad runs a radio station out of it and they live upstairs. You’ve gotta meet her; you would love her.”

Vivien smiled in kind, but couldn’t help teasing the boy as she elbowed his arm, “Not nearly as much as you do, apparently.”

Choosing to simply ignore the girl’s teasing, Bentley said, “She’s got two cats who roam around the store and beg for treats.”

With a nod, Vivien sighed, “I’m not a big cat person, but I bet they’re cute.”

As though snapped from a trance, Royce looked up and found Miles’ gaze already on him, concern filling their locked eyes as Bentley asked, “You don’t like cats?”

Vivien shrugged, “It’s not that I don’t like them - I do and I think they’re adorable - I’ve just never had one around, so I prefer dogs. My mom claims that she’s allergic to cats, so we’ve always had dogs. Personally, I think she just doesn’t like cats because she’s always calling them prissy and aggressive.”

Tentatively, Royce swallowed thickly and turned toward his girlfriend with a hopeful grin, “Would you mind living with one?”

Confused, Vivien shook her head, “No, why? Do you want one?”

“We already have one,” Miles explained. “A black cat we got around Halloween a while back.”

“His name is Binx - like the Hocus Pocus cat,” Bentley added with a proud smile as he stuck a stick into the top of a sand tower. “He likes Cheetos, long baths, and he sits on our shoulders like a parrot sometimes.”

Vivien giggled, while the concept of the boys having a pet had crossed her mind, she just assumed Miles would have a German shepherd or something for protection - if not a breed with enough energy to entertain Bentley’s golden retriever mannerisms. If anything, the only person in that house who she could imagine owning a cat was her boyfriend. Royce was, for all intents and purposes, the embodiment of a Chartreux - quiet, inquisitive, and gentle, yet playful when he wanted to be. He seemed to be the oddball of the group - Vivien’s spirit animal of sorts being the same outgoing, yet calm and perceptive hound who always fell asleep somewhere on her bed back home.

Shaking her head, Vivien grinned, “If you guys don’t have Cheetos at home, we need to pick some up for him.”

Carrie beamed, “They keep a bag just for him.”

“Aww!” Vivien cooed, her smile growing so big it began pushing her eyes closed. Lightly smacking Royce’s arm with the back of her hand, she asked, “Why didn’t you tell me about him before?”

“I thought I had,” Royce admitted shyly.

Vivien shook her head, “I would’ve remembered his name! Hocus Pocus is one of my favorite movies of all time.”

“Sorry,” Royce chuckled, a hand coming up to the back of his neck as Vivien smiled in his direction.

Nudging Royce’s arm with an elbow, Vivien grinned, “That just means you’ll have to formally introduce us later.”

Feeling himself smile as warmth crawled up his neck and spread across his cheeks, Royce nodded and breathed, “Yeah, okay.”

Giggling at her boyfriend’s reaction, Vivien turned to the others and asked, “So, what should we do first? Should we take the day to clean, and then you guys can show me around tomorrow, or…?”

“Well, today’s Saturday, so Kona should be busy helping her dad with his broadcast,” Bentley commented thoughtfully. “And the museums will be packed.”

“Sadly, so will that new mall I told you about on the phone,” Carrie mentioned as Vivien glanced her way. “Saturdays are when everyone and their mother try to get good deals.”

Royce looked ready to argue that he knew all too well that the blonde had already wasted enough money at the shiny new building, but Vivien spoke before he got the chance, effectively shutting down any snide remarks he planned on making as she smiled in Carrie’s direction. “I guess some things never change. My bandmates, Erica and Jade, work at the Mall of New Hampshire and say that they only work weekends so they get to watch the chaos from the food court on their breaks.”

Realizing, to his dismay, that his girlfriend would probably be just as enamored with the new shopping center as Carrie was, Royce asked, “Do you go there often?”

“All the time!” Vivien exclaimed. “It’s not a huge mall or anything, but they have some of the best clothes and stuff. I got my first pair of skates at that mall when I was little.”

“They sell figure skates at the mall?” Bentley asked.

“Yeah,” Vivien nodded. Glancing over at the unsuspecting Butchy, she smirked and added, “We went to Dick’s.”

Butchy looked up, an eyebrow raised at the younger girl as she grinned in his direction. Although he looked ready to speak up and ask the girl how on earth that could be the name of a store, Bentley beat him to the punch as his blue eyes sparkled with glee, “Dick’s?”

Vivien nodded, glad to finally have found a way to evade Butchy’s tax on swearing, but Royce let out a snort as he asked, “Is there seriously a store named Dick’s?”

“Dick’s Sporting Goods,” Mick nodded, fighting back a laugh as Butchy’s head practically snapped toward her, an incredulous look in his eyes. “What? It’s true!”

“You’ve got to be screwing with me,” Butchy muttered.

Carrie scoffed a laugh, her oversized sunglasses lifting as she smirked at Butchy, “What? Can’t handle a few Dick’s being thrown around here and there?”

“Yeah, it’s just a sports shop, big guy.” Vivien smirked, glancing around the group as she thoughtfully said, “I bet you would’ve had a heart attack if you had been with us on that trip my school took to the Hoover Dam.”

Bentley’s eyes sparkled as the third Percy Jackson book dragged to the front of his mind, and he asked, “Did you have to ride the dam elevator?”

Ignoring Butchy’s startled call of her friend’s name, Vivien beamed, “We did, but a few of us had to stop to use the dam bathroom first.”

Having read the books with his brother and girlfriend, Royce grinned as he questioned, “Did you get any dam snacks from the dam snack bar?”

“I bet those dam t-shirts were expensive.” An almost maniacal giggle bubbled up from Vivien’s chest as Mick spoke, her nonchalance causing a ripple of laughter to course through the group as Butchy sighed.

“This is the part where I admit defeat,” he muttered, pushing himself to his feet.

“I’d tell you to give up while you’re ahead, but you’re definitely not ahead of them by any means,” Miles chuckled, following his friend’s lead before reaching down and offering a hand to his girlfriend. As the kids scrambled to their feet, proud smiles on their faces as Butchy and Mick began the walk to Mick’s bus, Miles asked, “So, kiddies, where to first?”

Vivien took in a breath as both Royce and Bentley turned toward her expectantly, but her first thought wasn’t of adventure; it was of genuine confusion as Miles and Carrie followed the others toward Mick’s Volkswagen. “I thought we were going with you guys. Where’s your car?”

“We walked,” Bentley said with a shrug. “Our house is close enough that we walk or ride our bikes everywhere almost every day.”

“And I left my car at their house,” Carrie added, nudging her sunglasses further up her nose with a smile at the brunette.

Ignoring the blonde’s addition to the conversation with ease despite his girlfriend’s nod of understanding, Royce added, “And Miles’ piece of crap Jeep needs new spark plugs.”

“It’s not a piece of crap if it gets you two to school on time,” Miles sighed, the mere thought of having to put more work into the rust bucket exhausting him.

“What do you need to have done to it?” Vivien asked. “My Grandpa George lets me help him with his old truck all the time; maybe I can help.”

Miles shook his head, “You’re our guest; you shouldn’t be helping me with stuff like that. Besides, it’s mostly simple fixes - new spark plugs, an oil change, that kind of thing. The only thing I need to check on other than that is the clutch.”

“You drive a stick?” Vivien asked, her eyes sparkling at the thought. “Can you teach me how?”

Smiling at the girl, Miles chuckled and nodded, “Maybe one of these days, sure. Now, where do you need to go?”

Sighing as Miles turned the topic back onto her, Vivien shrugged as she replied, “Can we stop at a gas station or something so I can pick up some snacks before we get to cleaning?”

“Then what?” Carrie asked before Miles could ask her what she wanted.

“I don’t know, really,” Vivien admitted as Bentley tucked his arm into the crook of her elbow, her other arm already looped around Royce’s. “I’m just happy to be here with you guys. It doesn’t feel real.”

“I know the feeling,” Royce chuckled, offering his girlfriend a smile. “Having you here is so surreal.”

“Just wait until you meet everyone,” Bentley said, hopping off of a concrete parking block as Vivien laughed.

“You mean I haven’t already?” she asked. “I think I met everyone in town.”

“Not everyone,” Royce claimed, “but there aren’t a lot of people you haven’t met yet.”

“Kona, Zack, and August,” Bentley began.

“Benny’s friends from school,” Royce explained, to which Vivien nodded.

“Don’t forget Sandy, Lake, and Kit,” Miles tacked on.

“Cassandra Wheaton, and Laken and Katrina Dubois,” Bentley explained, tugging Vivien’s hand as he spoke. “Those are Royce’s friends.”

“Sandy is this red-head girl in my grade who constantly picks fights with the teachers if she thinks they’re wrong,” Royce explained. “She’s related to Butchy’s friend, Larry.”

“Lugnut,” Miles stated, holding the door open for the kids to climb in. “That’s what we call him. And, for the record, they’re cousins.”

“Why on earth do you call him that?” Vivien asked with a grin, pausing by the doorway. “Because he’s got bolts for brains?”

Butchy snorted from the front seat, turning to grin at the kids, “That’s one reason.”

As Bentley followed Vivien into the VW bus, Royce said, “She and her family are on vacation this week, though. Lake and Kit, on the other hand, are Lela's boyfriend’s best friend’s younger brother and sister - they’re twins.”

“Lake is usually the one getting into trouble at school, but he gets good enough grades that nobody really says anything,” Royce explained. “Kit, on the other hand, is the only sane one. She’s the polar opposite of her brother in school, but we’re all pretty sure she’s got some kind of rebellious side under her good-girl exterior.”

As Vivien pieced together the web that linked the group together as friends, she smiled curiously, “And they’re your friends from school?” Royce nodded, and Vivien shook her head with a chuckle. “Sounds like my friends - a mismatched abomination that works, for whatever reason.”

Royce smiled, but it was Bentley who spoke up, “You know, Lake’s the only reason Royce didn’t get in much trouble for punching that kid in the face back in February.”

“Really?” Vivien asked. When Bentley nodded proudly, still clearly relishing in how protective his typically calm older brother had gotten, Vivien turned to Royce and said, “I have to say, when I first found out about that, I didn’t believe it, but now that I know it’s true, I’m proud of you.”

Royce looked away as he heaved a sigh, “I could have handled it better.”

“You could,” Vivien shrugged, “but I would have done the same.”

“You would have?” Royce asked softly as the door slid shut behind Miles.

Vivien hummed, nodding in confirmation before smiling at her boyfriend, “Nobody messes with our siblings.”

Royce smiled, a breath of a laugh escaping him as he nodded, “I still feel kind of bad about breaking his nose and tripping the other one down the stairs.”

“You shouldn’t,” Vivien claimed calmly. Leaning her head on Royce’s shoulder, she smirked as she added, “Besides, I kind of like the thought of seeing you get all protective over the people you care about.”

One of Royce’s eyebrows raised as he looked down at the top of Vivien’s head. “Yeah?”

Instead of replying outright, she nodded against his shoulder, tipping her head back so that she could see his face as she muttered, “I would have paid big bucks to watch it go down.”

“I watched it in real time,” Bentley claimed, heaving a laugh as he recalled the day he watched his ever-calm older brother rail his fist into an upperclassman’s face. “It was a wonder Royce didn’t break his fist in Darren’s face.”

“Or get into any more trouble than I did,” Royce sighed as he leaned over to look at Bentley. “It was honestly a miracle I wasn’t suspended.”

Bentley rolled his eyes before grinning at Vivien and explaining, “Lake went with us to the principal and explained that he saw the whole thing. If he hadn’t, we would’ve gone back and forth until the bell rang.”

“Instead,” Royce continued, “they took his word and called Miles to come and pick us up.”

Turning enough to see the kids, Miles mused, “Most terrifying call of my life.”

“How come?” Vivien asked.

“All they told me was that there was a fight and I needed to get the boys,” Miles recalled. With a sigh, he said, “Since neither of them start fights, I figured I’d be dealing with broken teeth and blood everywhere. Instead, I get to the office, find some kid being called into the principal’s office with an icepack on his face, and these two sitting with the nurse, looking relatively unharmed.”

Royce glanced down at the knuckles on his right hand, flexing and clenching his fist as he examined the leftover marks from his first-ever fistfight. Though it wasn’t his dominant hand, his punch to the older boy’s face had certainly made a mark on both him and the older boy - breaking Darren’s nose for the second time that school year. The quarterback was a caricature of the stereotypical jock - obnoxiously loud, rude, and always vying for access to some poor girl’s skirt. Although Royce doubted he had much success with women in general, Darren acted like he had been crowned King of the school anytime he had a girl under his arm, pushing underclassmen out of his way and picking out random things to taunt them with at least once a day. He was rude, uncouth, and, quite frankly, had the punch coming.

“It’s just a miracle his parent’s didn’t press charges,” Miles mused. “Lawyer fees wouldn’t be cheap if we went against the town’s darling little quarterback.”

“It would have been sooo worth it to take them all down a peg, though,” Carrie sighed.

“Why do you even care?” Royce asked with a roll of his eyes. “Just because you would’ve had the money to handle it doesn’t mean all of us peasants could’ve.”

Though Carrie looked ready to fire back something about how money had little to do with the situation or how she cared because Miles cared, she bit her tongue and instead sighed, “I’ve heard enough shit about that family. They’re dicks to everyone.”

“Oh, joy,” Vivien sighed with a roll of her eyes. “I get away from one asshole family at my school only to meet another asshole family at this one.”

“Swear jar,” Butchy muttered from the front, echoed in near unison by his younger sister and Miles.

“Good thing I’m not staying at your place tonight,” Vivien snickered.

Lela glanced at the girl and sighed, “Don’t be surprised if he nails you for it later.”

“That’s not fair,” Vivien huffed.

“Neither is the swear jar,” Miles laughed.

“College fund,” Butchy corrected.

“More like the bullshit fund,” Carrie claimed with a roll of her eyes as she looked out the window at the passing scenery.

“Wait, how come she gets to cuss, but I don’t?” Vivien scoffed in disbelief, gesturing to Carrie.

Twisting in his seat to look back at the teenager in the backseat, Butchy grinned, “Because I don’t care what she does. You, on the other hand, are one of my responsibilities while you’re here.”

Crossing her arms over her chest and preparing her fiercest glare, Vivien smirked, but Miles caught on quickly, smirking as he attempted to placate the girl before she could push Butchy’s buttons any more than he was sure she had already planned to, “I wouldn’t.”

Choosing to ignore Miles’ tame warning, Vivien giggled, “If Butchy can’t handle the heat, maybe he shouldn’t be such a colossal dickhead.”

“Vivien,” Mack cautioned, “be nice.”

“I just want to see where the line is so that I can play jump rope with it,” Vivien claimed somewhat innocently, making Butchy roll his eyes as he turned back toward the road ahead. “Have I crossed it yet?”

“Wouldn’t be the first or the last time you did,” Butchy shrugged.

Vivien’s smile only seemed to grow as she contemplated her next course of action. Tapping her chin thoughtfully, she hummed, “How about prick; is that okay, Corporal Shithead?”

“I mean, under certain circumstances, I guess, but-”

“Shit? Damn?” Vivien continued. “How about Dick’s? The sporting goods place, not the anatomy.”

“I don’t have a written list of acceptable swears,” Butchy claimed with a chuckle. “And, yeah, store names are fine. Why do you-”

“How about fuck-nuggets?” Vivien pressed, her eyes practically glistening with joy. “I reserve that one for special people, you know, Señor Fu-”

“We’re here!” Mick exclaimed, cutting off Vivien’s fun as she pulled into the parking lot of a red and white convenience store, rolling up to the side of a gas pump before putting the oversized vehicle in park.

As she jumped out of the van, Vivien stared up at the building’s name with a look of scrutiny, encouraging a snort from Butchy as he smirked at her. “What’s with your face, piccola?”

Without batting an eye, Vivien stared up at the sign and asked, “The fuck is Wawa - some baby store bullshit?”

“It’s a gas station,” Bentley laughed as he followed Miles toward the store, digging into his pocket for some money. “You wanted snacks.”

Nudging the girl with his arm, Butchy grinned, “They have some of the best mac and cheese you will ever try.”

Slowly tearing her gaze from the store, Vivien looked up at Butchy and inspected his expression before softly asking him, “Better than Chick-fil-A?”

Dutifully, Butchy nodded as he brought an arm around the brunette’s shoulders, “By far.”

Eyes widening at the idea of anything being better than Chick-fil-A’s mac and cheese, Vivien swallowed and allowed Butchy to guide her toward the store. “I swear,” she began as he pulled the door open for her, “if you’re lying to me, I’ll strangle you.”

With a chuckle and a shake of his head, Butchy asked, “And if I was right?”

Vivien thought for a moment before shrugging, “I don’t know - I’ll tell Mick to kiss you or something.”

Butchy’s flat stare landed on Vivien as he asked, “She and I have been together for years now; why wouldn’t she kiss me?”

After thinking for a second, she shuddered and made a face at the taller man, “Well, I’m certainly not kissing you.”

Though Butchy pretended to gag at the thought, Vivien giggled, shoving him with her elbow as he guided her toward the wall of buffet-style foods across from the door. Chuckling, Butchy said, “Go check out the food, child. I’m going to pry Lela away from the Slurpee machine before she brings home another abomination that makes her sick.”

“Good luck with that,” Vivien snickered, watching him saunter off with a grin before turning to the food before her. The typical gas station foods - cheap hotdogs, sketchy burritos, and some half-empty trays of pizza - were on full display, but Vivien passed them with ease as her gaze narrowed in on a heated section of deep metal bowls of soups and steaming mac and cheese. Taking in a slow breath, Vivien paused as the smell of the food filled her. Why did it smell good? Gas station food never smelled good.

As a hand landed on her shoulder, Vivien jumped, turning toward Mack with wide eyes. Curious, the woman examined the food before asking, “Looks a hell of a lot better than the stuff we’d get at Cumby’s, doesn’t it?”

Cumberland Farms, a convenience store chain most commonly found in the New England region that Vivien proudly hailed from, was known amongst locals for their terrible, grow-hair-on-your-chest type coffee and shitty selection of “hot foods” that workers would hastily throw into the microwave before selling. Despite their food being sub-par, Vivien almost always stopped there for gas and a snack between school and skate practice. This Wawa place was putting her favorite gas station to shame with their fancy displays of food and varied selection of decent-looking snacks!

Nodding at the older woman, she asked, “Why does it smell so good?”

Mack smiled, “Because, believe it or not, it’s good food.”

“You’ve had some?” Vivien asked. When the graying woman nodded, she looked at the array of food and asked, “What do you recommend?”

“Just about anything,” Mack shrugged. “It’s all a lot cheaper than the stuff back home.”

As the brunette woman patted her shoulder and walked away, Vivien’s eyebrow raised, but as she slowly turned her attention back to the food before her, her curiosity was quickly replaced with surprise as she read the prices along the top of the heated cases. Thirty-five cents for a bowl of mac and cheese?! A box of uncooked mac and cheese - not even a good brand, just the generic, store-brand kind - back home was almost two dollars, and you still had to buy butter and milk to make it! Digging into the purse Lela had let her borrow, Vivien dug out her NASA-branded wallet and came to the realization that she had saved a load more money for the trip than she would probably ever need. Feeling a sense of wealth in a gas station - of all places - was surreal, but there she was, standing in front of the gas station’s array of mac and cheeses, feeling like the richest person in the world. Having saved all of her money from her band’s tip jar at their gigs, her allowances, and her part-time work at her family’s winery, she now had just shy of a thousand dollars saved for a trip that would, more likely than not, cost a whole lot less than she had anticipated.

“Are you good, kid?” a voice asked, making Vivien hastily zip her wallet shut as she turned toward Miles, her thoughts running wild at the thought of storming into the nearby mall and buying everything her heart desired without feeling bad for spending a ton on herself.

Vivien scrambled to find the words to say before stammering out, “I-I, uh, I just- I saved money for this trip.”

Miles smiled, a sense of pride filling him as he nodded, “Good job. Is it enough to buy what you want or do you need some change?”

Vivien’s eyes flickered to the sign, its two-digit number startling her once more as she half expected it to have changed since the last time she looked. With a vehement shake of her head, she began, “N-No, it’s not-!” She cut herself off and took in a breath, lowering her voice to a whisper and holding up her wallet with wide eyes, “I think I could buy a house with this.”

Miles glanced at the girl’s wallet and smirked, placing a hand over it and lowering it, “I highly doubt that, but isn’t that a good thing?”

“Yeah, I think so, but-”

“But nothing,” Miles interrupted, taking the girl’s arms in his hands and forcing her to focus on his words. “You’re here to have fun, not worry about finances.”

Vivien nodded dutifully, but as her gaze fell on her borrowed clothes, she found herself beginning to worry again as she muttered, “I don’t have any clothes.”

“What?” Miles asked, not having heard the girl’s simple statement.

Emerald eyes flickered up to meet Miles’, and he watched as worry filled them. “Mick told me to leave my clothes at her parent’s house and only take what I needed because I’d leave here with more clothes than I could fit in my suitcase. I borrowed all of this-” she gestured to herself, “from Lela. I don’t- I don’t have pajamas for tonight or clothes for tomorrow - o-or any day, for that matter. Miles, what am I going to do? I can’t just run around in the same outfit every day!”

“First of all, breathe,” Miles instructed, waiting until Vivien sucked in a breath before continuing, “and second, relax. You can borrow something for tonight, and I can take you clothes shopping tomorrow.”

Vivien took in the idea and slowly nodded. “Are you sure? I don’t want to get in the way of your plans.”

“You won’t,” Miles decided with a shake of his head. “We’ll worry about all of that tomorrow. Now, go pick out some snacks for tonight before the boys decide to buy half the store for you.”

Allowing Miles to nudge her toward the coolers full of drinks where Bentley and Royce were arguing over which drink they thought Vivien would want, she shoved her wallet back into her bag and allowed their voices to lure her in, glancing around at the myriad of snacks available as she closed the distance between them. “What’re you guys talking about?”

Glad to have someone there as a tie-breaker, Bentley beamed, “Oh, good! Viv, would you please tell your boyfriend that you’d like root beer more than Mountain Dew?”

Switching her gaze from the bottle of A&W in Bentley’s hand to the sloshing, radioactive green liquid in the glass bottle held by the brunet on her right, Vivien opened her mouth to speak, but Royce spoke first, “She’s been talking about having us bring her a bottle of this stuff since January, Ben.”

Choosing to speak up before the boys could argue more about her choice of drink, Vivien asked, “Why not just get both?” When the boys looked her way, she said, “I can have one tonight while we work and another in the morning with breakfast.”

“Soda with breakfast?” Bentley wondered aloud, glancing between Vivien and Royce. “Is that allowed?”

Vivien shrugged as she took the bottles from the boys, “Why not? If Miles can have his crackhead coffee in the morning, I can have a soda.”

Turning on her heel, Vivien headed for the chip aisle, examining the funky fonts with a smile as the boys fetched their own drinks from the coolers. As she picked up a tube of Pringles - the “newfangled” chip in a can, as the container claimed - Vivien tucked it into the crook of her elbow and waited for the boys to pick out their own snacks before following them to the cash register where a middle-aged man in a sweater vest began punching in the prices of their selection. Pulling out her wallet, Vivien began searching for her one-dollar bills, but Royce was quicker as he handed over a few bills and accepted the change from the cashier.

Taking the bag of items from the counter and thanking the man, Vivien allowed Royce to lead her outside before speaking, “I was going to pay for that, you know.”

“I know,” Royce said, a hint of a grin tugging at his lips as Bentley pulled his drink and snack from the bag in Vivien’s arms and took off for the van, “but I also know how expensive things are back in your world and how cheap everything seems here. You and I both know you’ll try paying for anything and everything if you get the chance, and I wanted to be able to say that I paid for at least one thing for you while you’re here.”

Vivien couldn’t argue with her boyfriend’s good intentions. She knew he meant well and, well, he wasn’t wrong. She liked being able to provide for the people she cared about. Taking in a breath and sighing, she relented, “Alright, you’ve got me there.”

“I know,” Royce smirked triumphantly. “I just hope you’ll let me pay for our anniversary dinner.”

“Anniversary dinner?” Vivien echoed. “We haven’t been together a year yet, Rolls.”

“No, but it’s almost our four-month anniversary, and we haven’t had the chance to really celebrate the last three,” Royce stated as they reached Mick’s bus, taking the bag from Vivien and stepping aside to allow her to climb in. “Why; do you not want to celebrate it?”

“I hadn’t thought about it, to be honest with you,” Vivien admitted. “My parents only really ever celebrated their yearly anniversary.” Pausing as she stepped into the bus, Vivien turned back to Royce and said, “But, I guess, if you think about it, they are divorced now. Maybe it’s not such a good idea to follow their lead.”

Royce let out a breathy laugh, “Yeah, maybe not.”

Once they were seated, Vivien leaned her head on Royce’s shoulder and asked, “So what did you have in mind for it?”

Royce chuckled somewhat nervously, “Honestly, I hadn’t really planned anything since I thought we would be on opposite sides of the country. My original plan was to see if we could have dinner over video chat or something, but now that you’re here, I don’t know what to do.”

Vivien hummed as she smiled up at her boyfriend, “Well, we have plenty of time to figure it out.”

“Yeah,” Royce nodded as he returned her smile, leaning closer to her with the intention of pressing the tip of his nose to hers in a sort of eskimo kiss. However, the van’s other occupant had another idea.

“Can you guys not be all lovey-dovey and gross when I’m trying to eat?” Bentley complained, interrupting the couple’s interaction and digging his hand back into his snack bag as the others began to return to the vehicle.

Instead of resorting to sitting silently and putting up with the boy’s teasing, Vivien turned toward the blond and pursed her lips, smacking them in an effort to psych him out with her exaggerated kissing noises as she leaned toward him, acting as though she was going to kiss him. Bentley was quick to react, letting out a squeal as he pressed himself as far away from her as possible. As he tossed a handful of Corn Diggers at Vivien, pleading with her to stop, Vivien laughed triumphantly and returned to her seat, pulling a couple of the Bugles' predecessors from her ponytail and popping them into her mouth as Bentley let out a noise of complaint.

“You tossed ‘em, you lost ‘em,” Vivien taunted in a sing-song voice, handing one of the corn chips to Royce as he chuckled beside her.

Before Bentley could complain any further, Mick turned toward the others in the back of the bus and asked, “Everybody in?”

Once everyone gave some form of confirmation, Mick turned back to the wheel before her and twisted the key in the ignition, feeling the vehicle rumble to life before pulling away from the gas pump. As the bus pulled away from the gas station and began to roll down Gulf Boulevard, Bentley and Royce began showing Vivien their town through the windows, pointing out locations as they flew by. Although the glimpses of buildings and hang-out spots wouldn’t satiate Vivien’s desire to explore to small city to its fullest, the palpable excitement radiating off of the boys on either side of her as they rambled and raved about their favorite places made her feel as though she had explored the area alongside them.

To Vivien’s great disappointment, the car ride didn’t last long, and they were pulling into the brick-lined driveway of Butchy and Lela’s Mediterranean-style home within minutes. The red shingles on the roof glistened in the afternoon sun, giving the structure a warm, comforting glow as Mick rolled to a stop in front of the garage. Climbing out of the bus, Vivien looked around at the neighborhood, a collection of one-floor, mid-century homes dotting the streets amidst the occasional larger home and making Vivien breath a sort of chuckle through her nose as she smirked. The pattern of large and small homes distantly reminded her of Morse Code - the larger building becoming dashes and the smaller ones turning into little dots in her head. However, before she could think too much on it, Lela took the girl by the hand and began leading her up the brick walkway to the front door, pushing her way inside before turning back toward the group and calling for Carrie to join them. Lela pulled Vivien inside before leaving to retrieve the girl’s suitcase from the kitchen where she had abandoned it earlier, allowing the younger teen to look around the living room for the first time as Carrie’s platform boots clunked against the hardwood floors. Though Vivien was only somewhat disappointed the home didn’t have a sunken conversation pit for a living room, the patterns and warm colors gave off an inherently sixties vibe that made her smile nonetheless. Turning to Carrie with a smile, Vivien watched as the blonde rolled her eyes, nudging her sunglasses atop her head with a sigh.

“This place feels like something out of I Dream of Jeannie,” Vivien commented with a smile, “or Bewitched or I Love Lucy.”

Carrie looked around and shrugged slightly, her head tipping to the side in a sort of “I guess so,” movement. Then, she beamed, “If you think this is nice, just wait until you see my place.”

“I thought you said you guys weren’t done rearranging your furniture again?” Lela wondered as she rolled Vivien’s suitcase into the living room.

“We’re not,” Carrie agreed, “but it still has one of the best ocean views anyone could ask for.”

“And looks like the inside of a Barbie Dreamhouse,” Butchy poked as he followed his wife into the house and headed for the kitchen with one of their bags from the convenience store.

The half-assed jab at her choice in decor did nothing to Carrie as she rolled her eyes and called after him, “At least I have taste. Your wallpaper is so bright it could blind the people on the moon.”

“Hey,” Mick whined in a mildly offended tone as she looked around her ecclectically decorated living quarters. “I thought you liked the wallpaper.”

As Carrie struggled to find something nice to say about the yellow, floral, somewhat kitschy wallpaper, Vivien quickly turned to the brunette and attempted to cover for the blonde, “I think it’s beautiful, Mickie. Loud and proud, but beautiful. Right, Carrie?”

“Yeah!” Carrie hurried to agree, plastering a smile on her face that only a skilled actress - such as herself - could have pulled off so flawlessly. “It matches the furniture and decor perfectly.”

Wiping her dismay from her face, Mick grinned, “I’m just screwing with you. It’s ugly as sin and we all know it.”

Letting out a sigh of relief, Carrie pressed a hand to her chest and breathed, “Oh, thank God.”

“It really is awful,” Vivien muttered as she looked around. Glancing at the coffee table in all of its wiry, metallic glory, Vivien winced at the rug. “I mean, come on, Mick! You’ve got a baby-poop-green rug, for crying out loud.”

Mick leaned against the back of the couch and laughed, “It’s atrocious, isn’t it? We’re going to be redecorating entire ground level soon.”

“Finally getting rid of the poop rug?” Bentley asked in a giggle as he perched himself on the armrest of a chair.

“If that thing’s not the first thing that gets thrown in the dumpster,” Butchy began as he came back into the room with a freshly opened box of popsicles and began handing them out, “I might just pitch myself off of the roof.”

“Promise?” Carrie asked with a smirk.

Digging into the box, Butchy produced a purple popsicle with a grin and held it out to the blonde with a smirk, watching as her expression soured once he pushed the clear plastic wrapper into her hand. “Just for that, here you go.”

“I’d rather drink sewer water,” Carrie claimed, letting the popsicle dangle from her fingers as she pinched the stick, her nose crinkling in disgust as she eyes the offensively purple ice pop.

With a giggle, Vivien pried the popsicle from Carrie’s hand and swapped it for the blue raspberry one she had been given, claiming, “I love the grape ones.”

“More power to ya,” Carrie shuddered. “They taste like these shitty throat drops I had to take before singing lessons.”

Butchy smiled as he slowly turned, ready to hit the blonde with a comment about how her singing lessons were clearly a waste of her family’s money, but Lela quickly intervened with a smile, stepping up to grab a pink-lemonade-flavored pop from the box in her brother’s hands before turning to Vivien and Carrie. “Are you girls ready?”

“For what?” Vivien asked as she unwrapped her purple pop.

“We need to make up a list of all the things you need so that we can go shopping,” Carrie explained.

Vivien shook her head with a small smile, “That’s alright, guys, Miles already said he’d take me shopping tomorrow.”

Not even a moment after the words left Vivien’s mouth, Miles felt the urge to run, hide, melt in to the floor - anything to get away before he felt the stares of the women around him sear holes into his skin. However, to his dismay, he felt rooted in place by an invisible force that he knew could only be described as fear - though he would never admit it. If it wasn’t bad enough that Lela’s mildly bewildered, somewhat upset blue eyes landed on him with an immediate “how dare you” glare befitting of her status as the self-proclaimed, spoiled youngest child, Miles tried not to wince as Carrie’s sharp gaze landed on him, her rarely used, angry girlfriend stare boring into his soul. Miles had hoped he would have the chance to tell at least Carrie about his short conversation with Vivien about taking the chance to shop on a day he and his brothers had nothing better to do. He knew Carrie would have understood and told the others - mainly the raven-haired girl starring daggers at him in the hopes he would croak where he stood - to let things go for the night.

Clearly, however, he hadn’t had the chance.

“You what?” Lela asked darkly, a thinly veiled threat latched onto her words.

“Yeah,” Carrie nodded, her arms crossing over her chest as she watched her boyfriend’s expression flit as he fought the urge to speak up in defense of his actions. “We told you we wanted to take her shipping tonight while you guys worked on getting things set up for her in the spare room.”

Shrugging in a vain attempt to calm the girls’ fury, Miles admitted, “I told her she could just relax tonight and get used to our place a bit before we hound her with shopping trips and adventures. You guys can still take her, but I wanted her to feel comfortable first.”

“He’s right,” Vivien confirmed with a nod as she took a bite of her popsicle, watching in mild amusement as Carrie and Lela’s matching aquamarine gazes fell on her in near-perfect unison. “I wanted to help clean out the room I’m staying in tonight anyway. I like organizing, and, besides, I would’ve felt bad if the guys did all the work when I had already offered to help.”

Carrie hummed thoughtfully, accepting the teen’s statement with relative ease as Lela huffed, “Fine, but we’re taking you out tomorrow - no excuses.”

Raising her hands in surrender, Vivien nodded, “So long as I can crash in a nice, comfy bed tonight, I have no issue with going out tomorrow. You can drag me out of bed, for all I care.”

“Don’t tell them that,” Bentley said quickly, shaking his head emphatically at the brunette. “They take that stuff literally.”

Vivien smiled at the young blond, but found her amusement wiped off her face as she caught sight of Lela’s mischievously glittering eyes. She attempted a glance at Carrie, but found the blonde smiling knowingly in her direction, the actress’ excitement fueled by her eagerness to get the chance to spend time with Vivien and get to know the young figure skater better. Hoping she wouldn’t regret signing up for whatever day-long plans the girls had in store for her, Vivien swallowed and plastered a wary smile on her face as she asked, “Why do I have the feeling I'm going to regret agreeing to this?”

“Hanging out with Lela is fun, but you’re spending the day with Carrie too,” Royce stated before taking in the last bite of his popsicle. Quickly polishing it off, he grinned as he rhetorically asked, “Who wouldn’t regret that?”

Though Royce was quickly shut up by Miles elbowing his side and quietly telling him to quit it, Vivien latched onto his words and stared him down with a disappointed frown knitting her eyebrows together. With Vivien’s stare unwavering, Royce opened his mouth to speak before sighing and looking away, his small argument forgotten. Placing a hand on Carrie’s arm, Vivien turned her gaze onto the blonde and smiled, “I’m actually looking forward to spending more time with you.”

“You are?” Carrie asked, echoed bewilderedly by Butchy, Royce, and Bentley.

The smiling brunette nodded, ignoring the boys’ comments and grinning as she admitted, “We haven’t really gotten the chance to get to know each other other than our love of theatre and music, so I don’t doubt we’ll have a lot of fun tomorrow.”

Vivien could tell by her smile that Carrie was happy, but the actress’ eyes seemed to water at her words, tears she was determined not to shed making her eyes burn. Carrie pulled herself together as best she could before nodding, “Lela and I will make sure you have fun.”

“And,” Lela began, sidling up to the pair with a smile and bringing her arms around them, “maybe we can even make a detour to Sycamore Close to check out where Miles and Carrie work.”

Though confused at first, realization hit Vivien like a Mack truck speeding down the highway as she recalled just where Carrie worked. Beaming at the blonde, she asked, “Really? Can we check out the studio?”

Carrie shrugged, a teasing gleam in her eyes as she offered, “I guess we’ll just have to find out, won’t we?”

As Carrie pivoted on her heel and began sauntering toward the door, Vivien balked and squawked, “You can’t just give me a ‘you’ll see’ and walk away!”

“I just did!” Carrie laughed as she stepped outside.

Vivien made a noise of disgruntled surprise and followed the actress, but was stopped at the doorway by Butchy’s arm. Looking up at the man, she found him smirking at her. Lifting an eyebrow curiously, Vivien followed his gaze to where Lela stood with a suitcase as he asked, “Forgetting something?”

Sighing, Vivien jogged back to Lela, thanking her with a hug as Miles led his brothers out of the house. Dragging her suitcase behind her, Vivien wrapped Mick in an embrace next, thanking her once more in a whisper. Running her hand up and down the younger brunette’s back, Mick grinned, “Anytime.”

As they separated, Mack stepped up and said, “Next week, the boys will be back to school and Brady and I will be going back to California. The choice is yours whether or not you want to stay at their house or come stay here in the spare room, but you should probably talk it over with Miles and the boys before Monday.”

Vivien nodded, glancing toward the door as Miles told Bentley to stop chasing Carrie around the driveway with a worm he plucked from the bushes while Royce laughed. Turning back to her neighbor and friend, Vivien smiled, “I think I can handle that.”

“Good,” Brady spoke up. Patting his pseudo-daughter on the shoulder, he grinned, “Have fun, alright?”

“I will,” Vivien said, tucking herself into the couple’s open arms and squeezing them close before heading back to the doorway Butchy leaned against. She examined him for a moment, taking in his laid-back expression and his knowing smirk before asking, “You knew I was coming, didn’t you?”

Lifting a brow, Butchy asked, “What gave you that idea?”

“You weren’t surprised to see me, but Lela was,” Vivien claimed. “That means that either Mickie told you or you just seem to know things, which would mean I have to go all super spy mode while I’m around you.”

Leaning closer to the girl, Butchy lowered his voice and grinned as he said, “Mick’s great with secrets, but I think we both know that she’s pretty shit at keeping her excitement for surprises under wraps.”

Vivien snickered, a knowing nod following soon after. However, as she took in his words once again, she gasped dramatically, pointing up at him with wide, sparkling eyes, “You swore!”

Butchy rolled his eyes and placed his hands on his hips, “I have been known to, yeah.”

“But the swear jar-”

“Has been decommissioned until you go home,” Butchy interrupted. When Vivien’s accusatory gaze begged him to explain his decision, he simply shrugged, brushing off the matter with ease. “You’re on vacation, piccola - I’d rather you didn’t go broke just because you swear like a drunken sailor.”

Vivien’s expression shifted, a knowing smile taking over her face as she patted his arm, “Whatever you say, big guy.”

Sighing in some form of admittance - at least, that’s how it sounded to Vivien - Butchy shook his head and tugged the younger girl into a hug, smiling as her snake-like arms wound around him in a tight squeeze. “Have fun with the guys.”

“And Carrie,” Vivien tried, a part of her still hoping to mend the blonde’s relationships with both Butchy and Royce during her stay despite the reluctance from all parties.

“Yeah, sure,” Butchy scoffed as Vivien took a step back. Cocking his head in a sort of shrug, he chuckled, “Well, I’m sure you’ll have fun with that empty-headed plaything; the boys aren’t exactly the Barbie-doll type.”

“You’re such a dick,” Vivien retorted, thumping her fist against his chest as she took her suitcase by the handle once more.

“To her, absolutely.”

“That’s not a good thing.”

“Is to me.”

Vivien rolled her eyes and nudged her glasses further up her nose before scoffing and allowing the subject to drop. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow, right?”

“Maybe after you’re done with your girl’s day,” Mick said with a nod.

“Aren’t you joining us?” Vivien asked.

With a shake of her head and a smile, Mick admitted, “Butchy and I have to help some friends move into their new place tomorrow, but I’m sure you’ll have a blast.”

Although the thought of not having Mick there as a buffer between herself and the other girls made her nervous, Vivien masked her worries with a smile and a nod, and gave the group a final wave before leaving the house, jogging down the front steps and joining the others at the end of the driveway. Miles looked up from his conversation with Royce and smiled, “You ready, kid?”

Nodding more for herself than for Miles, Vivien smiled, “As I’ll ever be. Did you guys call a taxi or something to bring us to your place?”

“No,” Miles chuckled with a shake of his head, gently tugging the girl’s suitcase from her hand and pulling it behind him as he began leading the way down the street. “We can walk from here to our house. It’ll take us maybe five minutes.”

“Seriously?” Vivien asked as Bentley took up the hand Miles emptied and began swinging it between them as they walked down Bay Street. “I know you guys said you could ride your bikes everywhere, but I didn’t know you could get where you needed to go so quickly.”

“It must be odd to you,” Carrie offered the younger girl as she fell into step on Miles free side. “I remember when I came to your world that everything in New Hampshire was really spread out. It made everything feel so small.”

Before Royce could butt in with a snappy comment, Vivien hummed, “Yeah, well, most of New England is like that, I think. The area used to be a lot of big farming areas and stuff in colonial times, so when things progressed, the plots of land didn’t, and there are a ton of places where you have to walk a country mile to get to your neighbor’s house.”

“It’s definitely not like that here,” Royce chuckled as Bentley took his hand and began swinging their joined arms between them in time with the other hand the blond had captured along the way to their home. “There may not be a lot of sidewalks on back streets, but in cities and communities like ours, it’s easier to walk places.”

Vivien smiled, “That’ll take some getting used to.”

Bentley grinned, “Nah, you’ll be a city girl before you know it.”

Although Vivien agreed with a nod, allowing the boys to carry the conversation as she let her mind wander. Though she could definitely get used to spending her days lounging on the beach with the boys or shopping with her friends for clothes that would only cost her a fraction of what they would back home, would she truly be able to adjust to wandering a city without a care in the world? In a way, she supposed, there would be pros and cons as there would be anywhere, but safety was something she doubted she had the need to worry about. With them living in a sort of movie universe, Vivien doubted there would be much crime, if any existed in their world at all - a welcome difference from her world.

Maybe staying In St. Pete Beach would be like the stories her grandparents had told her from their childhood - homes being left unlocked all day and night regardless of whether or not anyone was home and kids roaming the neighborhood until the street lights came on. Basically, things that would give her parents a literal heart attack if they knew where - or when - she really was. Would it really be so hard to adjust? Maybe it wouldn’t be half as hard as she was making it out to be. Regardless, as she listened to Bentley ramble about much he loved Florida more than their old hometown in South Carolina, Vivien came to the conclusion that she would try her hardest to feel at home in the small city.

As they turned right off of 64th Avenue and onto Gulf Winds Drive, Vivien found sandy, crack-riddled, cement driveways becoming more and more common than the clean-cut, brick driveways on the street Mick, Butchy, and Lela lived on. The larger, waterfront homes that lined the Boca Ciega Bay became nonexistent - replaced by a handful of one-floor, mid-century-style homes with cheerfully colored exteriors and neatly-kept gardens filled with palm trees, cacti, and other succulents. With a gentle tug on her sleeve and a somewhat apologetic smile, Royce led Vivien toward a pale turquoise house with a matching, topless Mustang parked out front, encouraging her to step over the edge of the driveway that the cement company hadn’t completely flattened out before allowing her to stop as she examined their home in full.

For a while now, Vivien had only seen glimpses of the building in pictures. She had practically memorized the peeled spot in the living room wallpaper from the background of where Bentley had opened his birthday presents the month before, the terracotta tiles of the back patio where everyone seemed to congregate on the weekends for cookouts, and the chipped, peeling paint of the front door that the trio of brothers had taken pictures in front of not long after Royce and Bentley had moved in with Miles. Now that she had their home in front of her and she was able to take in all of its haphazard glory, the idea of piecing together the rest of the puzzle pieces and seeing the rest of the house filled her with a sort of childlike wonder she hadn’t felt in a long time.

Nervously clearing his throat as his girlfriend stared at their house in silence, Royce admitted, “I know it’s nothing big or exciting like what you’re used to - and we’re still working on fixing up the walls and stuff - but it’s home.”

Vivien was quick to shake her head, wrapping her arm around Royce’s and squeezing it as she asked, “What are you talking about? I love it already.”

“Y-You do?” Royce asked in a breath.

“Yeah,” Vivien beamed. “I’ve only ever seen pictures of your house, so I’ve been looking forward to exploring it for months now.”

As Royce struggled to find something to say in response, Miles nudged Vivien and said, “If you’re that excited, the spare key is above the door frame. You can use it while you’re here.”

“Aren’t you guys coming inside?” Vivien asked, her eyebrow lifting in mild concern.

Miles nodded, smiling reassuringly at the younger brunette, “Carrie and I are just saying goodbye for the night. I’ll be in after she heads out.”

“I’ll pick you up around nine, if that’s alright?” Carrie offered as she tugged her car keys from her purse. “The mall opens at nine thirty, so that gives us plenty of time to pick Lela up and stop for coffee on the way.”

“Sounds good,” Vivien agreed with a smile.

“Good,” Miles grinned. “Now, go. I’m sure you’re dying to check out the dumpster fire that is our house.”

Carrie lightly smacked his chest with the back of her hand, scoffing that it wasn’t a dumpster fire now that they had started fixing everything up, but the comment went mostly ignored as the teenagers began making their way up the driveway. Although Vivien’s excitement was obvious and understandable as she began pulling Royce toward the door, Bentley jogged across the sandy grass to the door, his hand-painted key already glistening in the light as he tugged its chain over his head and slipped the key into the handle of the door. Stepping to the side as Royce took the key down from above the door frame and handed it to his girlfriend, Bentley pushed the door open and gestured for Vivien to enter first, “Ladies first.”

However, before she could take a step inside, Miles called out to Vivien from near Carrie’s Mustang, “Make sure the cat doesn’t get out!”

Vivien glanced back at Miles and nodded, but almost as though he had been summoned, a sleek black cat with golden eyes that shimmered in the sunlight trotted up to the door, sitting at the threshold as it observed the visitor before him with silent scrutiny. Without giving Vivien the chance to introduce herself to the cat, Bentley leaned down and scooped him up, cradling the onyx feline to his chest as he asked, “Did you come out to meet Vivien, Binx?”

Eyeing the girl, the cat’s golden eyes slid closed in a slow blink before peeling back open as he meowed softly. Reaching up a hand, Vivien allowed the cat to sniff her fingers with a grin, her smile growing as the cat’s head nuzzled into her hand, giving her permission to pet him. As Royce let out a breath of a chuckle, Vivien turned to him and said, “I think he likes me.”

Royce nodded, unable to wipe the smile from his face as he agreed, “I knew he would.”

Wriggling in Bentley’s grasp, the cat stretched out toward Vivien, forcing the girl to hold him as he climbed toward her shoulder and perched himself there. Smiling at the cat as his purrs filled her ear, Vivien chuckled, “He really is part parrot.”

“Told you,” Bentley grinned.

As the cat sprawled out, curling around the back of Vivien’s neck and resting his head on her left shoulder, she pressed a kiss to the top of his head. Watching his girlfriend as she nuzzled the top of the cat’s head and scratched between his ears, Royce smiled and spared a glance at the chaos they had left in the house that morning when they were rushing out the door. Miles was right; it was a dumpster fire. Although Royce was certain Vivien wouldn’t care that much about the art supplies littering the counters or the cat toys strewn across the floor, the urge to clean while she was distracted with the cat was strong. However, his time ran out as Vivien turned toward the door, stepping across the threshold and allowing the cat to jump onto the table by the door where Miles always ditched his keys.

As she began looking around, drinking in the details of the house with a smile, Royce stepped up beside her and said, “If we had known you were coming, we would’ve cleaned before we left this morning.”

“No, we wouldn’t have,” Bentley retorted with a snort as he stepped into the house and closed the door. “Miles woke up late because his alarm clock is a piece of junk, Jules picked you up early for work, and I was half-asleep still since you weren’t there to keep me or Miles awake.”

Reaching behind Vivien to half-heartedly slap the back of Bentley’s head, Royce sent him a look that begged for him to shut up as Vivien laughed, “I don't care how clean your home is. It’s your home and it should look lived in, not like some house on Trulia that’s been staged to look good.”

“Well, that’s good,” Bentley said with a grin, pointedly giving Royce an ‘I told you so’ look before taking Vivien’s arm and dragging her into the kitchen, exclaiming something about having to show her the progress report card he had been sent home from school with on Friday.

Royce let out a sigh and turned his attention to Binx as the cat head-butted his arm, asking for attention. “I’m glad you like her, Binx,” he whispered as he picked up the cat, the feline’s golden eyes somewhat calming as Royce took in a breath. “Knowing her, you’ll be spoiled rotten by the time she has to go home.”

The cat’s soft meow encouraged Royce to smile as the front door opened behind him, allowing Miles to step inside as the roaring engine of Carrie’s Mustang faded outside. Petting the cat as he set Vivien’s suitcase by the wall, Miles greeted him before turning his attention to Royce, “Where did they go?”

“Kitchen,” Royce replied with a shrug. Glancing at the door, he asked, “Where did she run off to?”

Brushing off his brother’s snipped tone, Miles answered, “She’s going home to make up a list of everything she thinks Viv might want.”

Royce scoffed, rolling his eyes at the thought, “How could she possibly know what Viv wants?”

“Royce,” Miles sighed softly as he put his hands on his hips, “can we not do this while Vivien’s here? You know she likes Carrie.”

“I don’t see how she can,” Royce commented with a shake of his head. “But seriously, Carrie hardly knows Viv; what gives her the idea that she can make up a list for her without talking it over with her first?”

“All I know is that she’s calling Lela and Mick for ideas,” Miles admitted with a shrug. “Knowing them, they’ll be on the phone all night.”

Running his hand down Binx’s side, Royce refrained from rolling his eyes as he relented, “That’s good. At least they’d take Viv’s interests into account.”

Curious yet cautious as he knew how deep Royce’s distaste for Carrie went, Miles asked, “What do you mean?”

“Well, Viv and Carrie are total opposites,” Royce stated as though his brother should have known that a long time ago. “The chances of Vivien liking anything Carrie picks out for her are slim to none.”

Hoping he didn’t appear nearly as happy to correct his younger brother as he felt, Miles grinned as he said, “Actually, Carrie was telling me that Vivien’s borrowed clothes from her a couple of times since they went to that show together; something about Mick being their delivery person.”

Though he didn’t want to believe his brother’s claim - or Carrie’s, for that matter - Royce sighed and chose to drop the subject, determined not to let his distaste for Carrie get in the way of him enjoying having his girlfriend around. Instead, he allowed Miles to bring an arm around his shoulders and guide him to the kitchen where Vivien was looking over a piece of paper. Bentley shifted a few magnets around on the fridge, nudging one from Miles’ work and one with their school’s mascot up to make room for the paper once Vivien was done with it.

As he caught sight of Vivien’s smile, Miles asked, “We’ve got a real genius on our hands, right, kid?”

Vivien nodded, glancing up from the paper briefly to tease the eldest of the brothers, “What does that make it, then; two out of three? That’s pretty good odds, all things considered.”

“Look here, you little shit,” Miles said, his grin still strong as he pointed at the brunette, “I happened to get good grades when I was in school.”

Waving Bentley’s progress report in the air, Vivien pointed at the teacher’s remarks and taunted, “I bet you weren’t this good, though. I mean, come on, Miles! How could you - of all people - possibly beat ‘has an inquisitive and engaged mind’?”

Miles shook his head, his smile beaming as Bentley’s face turned a soft pink at the praise from his friend, and the youngest of the family said, “It’s not that great. I’ve only got one A so far this year.”

“That’s because the American grading system is a pile of hot garbage,” Vivien scoffed, shoving the boy’s shoulder. “Besides, it’s still better than last time, if this is anything to go by. Last time, you had no A’s at all.”

“My art teacher liked me,” Bentley shrugged, hoping to brush off the praise. “This last trimester, I have French, and I just know it’s going to suck.”

“We can work on that,” Royce chimed in as Binx crawled out of his arms and perched himself on one of the kitchen counters. “Miles has been trying to teach me some more lately, so that won’t be a problem.”

Miles hummed, “And English should also be a breeze since Royce had Cushing last year too.”

“And I’m good with math and history, so those are covered,” Vivien added with a smile. Glancing down at the paper in her hands, she tried not to wince at the glaring D in the slot for Bentley’s science class as she said, “All we need to work on after that is science since everything else has a pretty good mark.”

“Science will be a bust,” Bentley huffed as he leaned against the fridge. “I think Mrs. Purington has it out for me.”

“She doesn’t have it out for you,” Royce claimed with a chuckle. “You just hate science.”

“I mean, yeah,” Bentley relented. “It makes no sense! The stuff she teaches doesn’t even come up on our tests, and half the class can’t stand her because of it. Most of our final grades this year will come from the science fair, and nobody knows what to do for it.”

As Miles hummed thoughtfully, a lightbulb flickered on in Vivien’s mind, snapping to life with a jolt as she thumped a fist on the counter and hissed, “Motherfucker!”

The three brothers and their cat jumped, watching as Vivien let out a frustrated sigh. Tentatively, Royce placed a hand on her shoulder and asked, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just-” she let out a heavy sigh, “I just realized that I left all the stuff for my battle bot project at home. I was going to ask Mickie to work on it with me while I’m here, and I figured Ben could borrow it, but without the motors, the radio control system, and some of the stuff I literally picked up yesterday at school, it’s useless.”

“That’s alright,” Miles reassured as Bentley stepped up and graciously wrapped an arm around Vivien’s back. “We’ll find something to do for his project - and maybe help you with the rest of yours too… if we can find anything for whatever it is.”

Though Vivien looked ready to explain her project, Bentley piped up, “Besides, the science fair isn’t until the middle of next month.”

Vivien grinned at the boy as Royce asked, “The Friday before prom, right?”

Bentley nodded, but it was Vivien’s gaze that locked on the curly-haired boy almost instantly. “Prom?” Vivien asked, earning a nod from her boyfriend. “You have prom in May? My school’s prom isn’t until the beginning of June!”

Though Royce was pleased to know that he would be able to attend Vivien’s prom - if she was willing to have him by her side in front of her entire grade, that is - the thought of her potentially still being in the area for his prom sent a hurricane of rabid butterflies through his stomach as he turned to Miles, a silent question on his lips as he grinned curiously at his older brother. With a smirk and a subtle roll of his eyes, Miles suggested, “Maybe, if you’re still here, you can go to Royce’s prom.”

Though Vivien’s eyes sparkled at the idea of attending another prom, she grinned and shrugged, “Well, he’d have to ask me to go with him first, but I’m sure I could find a place in my schedule for it.”

Royce’s smile widened as Vivien’s eyes met his, a surge of emotions flooding his veins as she smiled back at him. Maybe Miles was right - he was wrapped around her finger like one of her rings. He would drop anything to be with her so long as she would have him. Then, Bentley’s voice cut through their moment like a dagger, “You just got here, Viv. How do you have a schedule already?”

Wrapping an arm around Bentley’s shoulders, Miles chuckled and ushered him out of the room, “Come on, Benny, let’s get to cleaning Viv’s room.”

“But what about her schedule?” Bentley wondered as Binx hopped down from the counter and began following them. “How are we going to take her places if she has a schedule already?”

“She was joking,” Miles chuckled, tugging Bentley into the hall to leave the young couple alone.

“Oh,” Bentley breathed, a wave of understanding washing over his features as he turned back to Vivien, who nodded in confirmation. Beaming back at his brother’s girlfriend, Bentley wiggled his eyebrows at the pair and whistled comically before Miles slapped a hand over his mouth and pulled him away.

As his brothers left the room, Royce closed his eyes, turned to Vivien, and sighed, “I’m sorry about them.”

“Don’t be,” Vivien giggled, tucking Bentley’s report card back under a set of magnets on the refrigerator and turning toward Royce with a smile. “I’m used to their shenanigans by now.”

“I’m not so sure that’s a good thing,” Royce breathed as Vivien stepped into his personal space and draped her arms around his shoulders. “They can get a bit wild.”

Vivien snorted, “What, like I can’t?”

“Touché,” Royce grinned, bringing his arms around Vivien’s back. Smiling as he breathed in the scent of her perfume - a light, fruity combination of pomegranates, strawberries, and apple juice that was so distinctly Vivien that it had his attention in an instant - Royce swallowed his apprehension and asked, “Are you thinking of staying here for my prom?”

“If you’ll have me,” Vivien agreed with a nod. After a brief moment of silence, she met his gaze and asked, “Is this your way of asking me to go to prom with you?”

Royce grinned, but shook his head, “Not yet; I want it to be special.”

Grinning so hard her cheeks began to burn, she teased, “So, me flying across the country and entering another world for you isn’t special enough?”

“You know what I mean,” Royce chuckled, his fingers absentmindedly toying with the ends of Vivien’s hair as his thumbs rubbed circles on her spine. “As special as all of this day has been, I want to do one of those prom-posal things that are popular in your world. I don’t want to look back at this moment when we’re all old and wrinkly, and regret that I hadn’t been some knight in shining armor for you; riding up to you on a horse and asking you to prom like it was some fantasy ball.”

Smiling as his words came to life in her mind, images of him in blinding silver armor, riding up to her on a Clydesdale with a single question on his mind flooding her overactive imagination, she tugged her bottom lip between her teeth. “A knight in shining armor, huh?” she asked softly, running her fingers through his curls as she hummed thoughtfully. “I could see that.”

“You could?”

“Mhm,” she hummed, twirling a single curl around her index finger and allowing it to bounce back into place. “But, what I’m more interested in is the fact that you see the two of us growing old together.”

Freezing as his prior statement surged back to the front of his mind, Royce softly asked, “Can… Do you think we won’t?”

“I want us to - believe me, I do,” Vivien stated calmly, “but I guess I always sort of worry about the future. As much as I want a fairytale love like my grandparents’, my only other relationship crashed and burned so suddenly it made my head spin, and my parents’ relationship isn’t exactly sunshine and rainbows.”

Royce hummed thoughtfully. Vivien had told him enough about her parents and their on-again-off-again relationship for him to know that their relationship wasn’t something worth aspiring for. With a small smile, he said, “Well, if it means anything, I have every intention of staying by your side until you tell me you no longer want me to.”

“That won’t happen,” Vivien said with a firm shake of her head.

“In that case,” Royce began with a small smile, “we’ll have that happily ever after someday.”

“You think so?”

Royce’s curls bounced as he nodded, “I know so.”

Though her fond smile was evident, Vivien couldn’t resist teasing her boyfriend as she smirked, “That was so damn cheesy.”

“You love it,” Royce chuckled, smiling as his gaze flickered between Vivien’s eyes.

“I love-” Vivien’s brain froze as she coughed to clear her throat, her mind struggling to reboot itself as she realized how close she had come to telling Royce she loved him. Pretending to have gotten a hair in her mouth, Vivien wiped at the corners of her lips and made a face before deciding how to respond to Royce’s jest. “I-I’ll always love your way with words, but that doesn’t make it any less cheesy.”

“Are you okay?” Royce asked, taking a step back as Vivien dragged her nails across her bottom lip.

Nodding eagerly in the hopes that Royce hadn’t taken notice of her near-confession, she smiled and breathed, “Yeah, I think I just had some cat hair in my mouth, that’s all.”

Glancing toward the hall Binx had followed his brothers into as he grabbed a bottle of water from the floor by the refrigerator and handed it to Vivien, Royce chuckled, “That happens a lot with Binx. I think he sheds enough to make a whole other cat out of his fur.”

Glad to have moved on from her moment of adoration-fueled dipshittery with relative ease, Vivien smiled and opened the bottle after thanking her boyfriend, “Where is Binx, anyway?”

“He’s a nosy little guy, so he’s probably bugging my brothers while they clean,” Royce shrugged, watching Vivien take in a gulp of water. Holding a hand out to her, he offered, “Want to help me look for him?”

“Sure,” she replied as she capped her new drink. Smiling, she reached out for his hand, her fingertips just barely grazing his as an electrifying jolt ran up her arm toward her chest, forcing her to reel her hand back with a gasp. Royce was quick to follow suit, a noise of surprise leaving him as he jumped, his hand flinching toward his chest as aftershocks fizzled up and down his arm. Laughing as Royce shook his hand to rid himself of the electric tingles, she wiggled her fingers and gasped, “You shocked me!”

“No,” Royce argued lightly with a smile, “you shocked me!”

“Bullshit!” she laughed, shaking the electricity from her hand. “I think you were rubbing your shoes on a rug or something, because that hurt.”

“I could say the same,” Royce taunted as Vivien stuck her tongue out at him in retaliation, which he quickly reciprocated.

Brushing off the zap and their playful banter with a fond giggle, Vivien took Royce’s hand and laced her fingers with his as the static-like tingles pulsed under her skin, “Lead the way, static boy.” Though Royce looked ready to continue their mock-argument and declare, once again, that it wasn’t him who had shocked her, but the other way around, he took in her victorious smile and resigned with a humored shake of his head before guiding Vivien out of the room. Watching with a fond smile as Royce showed her the rest of the house, Vivien’s mind flitted back to her almost confession and she began to wonder why it had come with such ease?

They hadn’t even been dating for four months; how had she been so ready to tell him she loved him? She had dated Lexi for a lot longer and never once felt ready to tell her that. What was different with Royce? Well, actually, Vivien knew a lot of things that were different between the two. Really, there was no comparison. Royce was - in one way or another - a lot of things to her that Lexi never was. Despite their - quite literal - time difference, they never once had any issues with communication, and they had both been quite open with each other about what was going on in their lives, even before Vivien knew about his actual home.

Royce stepped aside as he guided her into the bedroom she would be staying in, allowing her to get a look at where she would be staying for the foreseeable future. Vivien smiled at him as she realized that she now had a lot more questions to ponder than she ever thought she would have while on her little stay-cation. With her luck, she would be up all night, staring at the ceiling in the dark as her thoughts wandered to her relationship with Royce. Letting out a soft sigh as she examined the room before her, Vivien grinned. So long as her thoughts were full of Royce, she really didn’t care if they kept her up all night.

#Same Trailer Different Park #STDP

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