#like its that or someone Did something to this drink but it was from a housemate's stash. oh my god i wanted more of this im so glad im in

[julieloves074]

It's you (Min Ho x reader)

Summary: Min Ho and Y/n are reunited in the second semester at K.I.S.S with their sarcastic, bullying friendship, but the drama get a little out of hand at the Moon's cabin, will the sparks that fly settle or burn Y/n up?

Warnings: Kissing, poor relationship with parents, underage drinking

Words: 4.1K

(Not my GIF :))

Being back at K.I.S.S for our second semester was thrilling, even just stepping out the car brings back a rush of memories and hope for this term. Kitty says she’s going 2.0 this semester and focusing but I think we both know she’ll lying to herself, Q and I made a bet on how long she lasts.

“I’ll give her a week,” I told him wanting to give the girl at least some belief.

Q pulled a face that screamed you’re joking right? And said ‘I give her till the end of tomorrow’.

Yuri was kind enough to invite out whole group to a reunion dinner tonight at our favorite barbeque restaurant, all on her, whilst the rest of us was excited Kitty was still stressing in our joint room about getting out of our living situation. Thankfully some music was able to calm her down for a second.

That was until Min Ho’s favourite song came on, and she turned to me with her mouth and eyes wide open in some sort of realisation. “Are you and Min Ho actually going to your lives together this semester?”.

I threw one of pillow at her, “Hey!” she exclaimed turning to me with smudged mascara on her cheek.

“Not this again,” I say rolling my eyes.

“I’m just saying I’m rarely wrong,” her voice goes a few octaves higher.

I turn back to my mirror, “You know I can’t stand how highly he thinks of himself, plus even I did he’s a player Kitty, I don’t put myself in situations where I’m likely to get hurt,” I explain.

“Yeah whatever live a little!” she threw the pillow back at me, which quickly turned into a pillow fight and bunch of laughter, until a knock on the door informed us we had to leave if we didn’t want to be late.

 The four of us girls walked towards the busy town to the restaurant, and he’s the first person that I spot in the crowd amongst our friends. Yuri shouts out a hello and the group turns around. His eyes meet mine, the same sneaky glimmer sits in his eyes, mouth in its signature half smirk.

I can feel Kitty’s eyes on me, and she gives me a slight push, I move my feet quickly hoping that no one saw that. I turn around and give her a quick death glare.

“Hello, y/l/n” his voice is all too familiar, I turn to meet his eyes once again, his hands are in his jacket pocket, and I note down that I would not mind stealing it from him.

“Min Ho,” I say back keeping it cool.

“Christmas break does not feel like a long enough break from you,” he says with a smile.

“Aren’t you a sweetheart,” I say back in a monotone voice.

“Now you’re complementing me? What have you done to y/l/n?” he questions grabbing my jacket sleeving and waving it around in an inspection, I roll my eyes at him and he lets my arm fall, “I heard about the living situation,” he changes the subjective with a gesturing nod to the restaurant as all our friends were walking in.

I let out a sigh and push some of my hair out my face, “Yeah, it’s a weird one, Kitty is super freaked out,” I say.

“I don’t blame her, living with someone you like and their partner sounds like personal hell,” he says with a distaste in his voice.

“Very helpful observation from you Min Ho,” I say deadpanning.

He puts a hand to his chest, “You’re so welcome,”.

“Aw and to think I almost missed this sarcasm of yours,” I say back turning my gaze away from his to the busy street.

Min Ho’s eyes crinkle in the corners “You did miss me,” he said as I stepped towards the restaurant, but I stopped before I could take another.

He circled around to step in front of me again, my brows burrowed, and I let out a nervous chuckle, “what did you say?” I asked trying to play dumb. Of course I missed him, I’m not sure how exactly our friendship could be described but our little digs were something I looked forward to, I enjoyed the challenge, the satisfaction that came from leaving him without a comeback.

I waited as he lowered towards my ear, his long eyelashes lifting as he observed something behind me, “You smiled when I said that”, I could feel the absence of his breath as he pulled away.  He was walking through to the table as I let out a composing breath and followed.

Kitty saved me a seat beside her, she wiggled her brows at me when I sit down, Min Ho was talking to Q and Dae looking at the menu.

“So?” she asked eagerly turning directly towards me.

“What?” I ask laying my purse down and grabbing a menu.

The brunette pulled it right out of my hands, “You know exactly what you’re going to order,” she says which is true, I get the same thing every time, why change something that works? “The tensions still there?” her mouth is a grin.

“It’s not tension,” I tell her for the hundredth since we started at K.I.S.S “we just don’t like each other,” I say pulling the menu back out her hand. I loved that Kitty was basically a radio tower for spotting who likes who, but not when it came to me, I didn’t like Min Ho like that and he definitely doesn’t like me like that, he was all over Maddison last semester.

“Whatever you want to tell yourself, “She murmured standing up to talk to the guys, Min Ho looks over to me momentarily as Kitty approaches them but then gets back into the conversation.

<3 <3 <3

Being able to spend the weekend at Min Ho’s cabin was amazing but waking up this morning to being basically snowed in was not a pleasant surprise, skiing was a no go, and it’s not like there was anything else near us. Everyone spent the morning playing card games or reading or trying to find something to entertain themselves because the internet was out.

It was fine until it hit five in the afternoon and even the team competition games were not feeling as empowering. Most everyone was feeling restless, that was until Q came up with what everyone seemed to think was a good idea, apart from Min Ho and me but I couldn’t pick his side.

“Oh come on we’re stuck on the property anyway!” Q pleaded in a whiny tone holding his hands together in support Dae gave a put his hands on his face and gave a cute smile. Min Ho half rolled his eyes and looked at all the faces in the room.

Dropping his hands with a sigh he agreed, and the room erupted into cheers, “But if you guys break anything I swear-” he started but was cut off as the chatter started. Maddison suggested we should divide up tasks, set up a small buffet, get alcohol and get dressed up.

Everyone separated the tasks between them, but my eyes kept shifting towards Min Ho, he looked distant, he was never usually against a party. He said he’d sort the alcohol and walked out the room, I looked around at everyone dispersing again then followed him.

We were heading towards his dad’s office, where Q had secretly snuck Jin in last night, thankfully the guys made up with him earlier or this day could have been very awkward, though it did seem like he gave them a rather tough time when they were younger and what he did to Q was not forgiven.

“Are you okay?” I ask after closing the door behind us, he didn’t turn, if he knew I was following him it didn’t show.

“Yep, I’m thinking the alcohol can be his payment for ditching me once again,” he says nonchalantly taking a key out of a draw and unlocking a tall cabinet, there on the bottom shelf laid what must have been about 30 different bottles.

I step closer and lean against the wall watching him pick up the bottles, read the label, leave some out and those that didn’t appease him went back in.

“Min Ho,” I said, my voice more tender than I intended, the playfulness was gone, “Can you look at me for a second?” I asked, for a moment he stopped moving altogether, before letting his shoulder fall and rising up to stand in front of me.

His expression was of that as always, but his eyes redder like a tear could appear any moment, “I can’t exactly say I’m surprised,” he shrugged and watched me waiting. A sadness settled over the room. I took a step towards him and just opened my arms, momentarily he was stood still, then he leaned down and wrapped his hands around my middle as mine went to the back of his neck.

“I’m sorry Min Ho,” I said, he didn’t let go, “You deserve better than this,” I said and pulled him closer, running my hand over his nape. As we stood there it felt as though a piece of my own heart was breaking, I could feel my throat getting drier, I shut my eyes tight.

I’m not sure if we were stood there for a minute or five but when he pulled away slightly, we looked at each other and for the first time I felt as though I saw him, really saw all of him.

“Whilst you’re here any preference?” he breaks out of the bubble and goes back to the stash as if nothing happened; I pull myself back together and kneel down next to him to look at options we have.

When we brought everything up Q looked directly at me, Min Ho placed the bottles on the table and rushed towards his room. I placed the ones I carried, and Q came right over, taking off the little apron he found leaving Julianna and Dae in the kitchen.

“How is he?” Q asks, and I lift my gaze from the table, the concern in his eyes mirrored that in mine.

I let out a sigh and shrugged my shoulders before replying in a hushed tone so they couldn’t hear in the kitchen, “He’s Min Ho, you know how he is, won’t say a thing,” I conveyed. Q nods knowing this would have likely been the case.

“He’ll come around when he needs to talk, for now it’s important we’re just here for him,” he said I agreed. When Dae announced they were done in the kitchen the four of us headed to get ready. Yuri laid her arm around my shoulder in a side hug as we walked to the room.

Yuri and I were the last to get ready the others were mostly done, the girls were playing music in the room, putting finishing touches to their makeup. None of us brought anything extremely fancy, but just enough.

The atmosphere in the house was much uplifted as everyone started having drinks and nibbling on the snacks. When Min Ho walked in and I couldn’t look away, he wore black trousers and a white sweater, his mood was too seemingly improved, he sent a smile my way.

Everyone was talking and dancing on the makeshift dancefloor, the table was pulled to the side, the drinks we’re going down as quickly for me as some others. Q and Jin were the sober ones as they both said that athletes don’t drink so at least I wasn’t the only one, though I was getting to the warm side of tipsy.

Coming back from the bathroom I spotted Dae and Eunice making out in the doorframe of one of the rooms and couldn’t help but smile, I was glad he was able to find someone who made him happy after how things ended with Kitty, especially since he wasn’t really over her at the start of this semester.

“Let’s do truth or dare!” Maddison announced after another shot as I made back into the room, a mixture of responses was heard but the red head quickly shot them all down, “Don’t all be babies, this is prime time to get to know everyone’s secrets,” she exclaimed falling back onto one of the sofas.

Everyone gathered around taking seats with their drinks.

“Okay I’ll start,” she said excitedly looking around at everyone as if they were her prey, “Okay, Julliana truth or dare?”

“Truth,”

“What is your favourite thing about Yuri?”

Julianna smiled at the question, resting her glass against her lips as she thought, “There’s just so many,” she laughed, Yuri looking at her expectantly, “The fact that she’s so unapologetically herself,” she said, and Yuri pulled her close and pressed their lips together. My eyes shot directly to Kitty who was looking everyone but at the couple.

“Okay, okay my turn,” Yuri said turning back to the crowd, “Q, truth or dare?”

“I’ll do a truth,”

“Who’s the best kisser you’ve ever kissed?” Q blushes and looks at Jin, his eyes shyly meeting his.

“Jin,” a series of aws and ews came out from everyone.

“Okay so, my queen of Choas,” Q started but Kitty threw him an exaggerated look of shock, “In retirement of course,” he finished lifting his hands in defence, if only he knew what Kitty had done before we left for this trip, “truth or dare,”.

“Truth,” she replied.

“Do you miss living with us,” he asked, and Maddison let out a boo, not juicy enough for her, but Kitty gave him a thankful look.

“Eh I basically spend the same amount of time at your dorm, apart from the sleeping fact,” she laughed, and Q gave her a side hug.

“Okay for that boring question lets do a never have I have, so drink if you have” the red head announced and looked towards Eunice.

The other girl furrowed her brows and made eye contact with Dae, “Never have I ever had a not so innocent dream about someone in the room,” she said. I lifted my glass to my lips whilst watching who else did, pretty much everyone, including Min Ho, everyone broke into trying to guess who dreamt about who.

Jin perked up “Min Ho yours has to be that girl you kissed in that music video for your dad this summer, surely,” but Min Ho only brushed him off.

Kitty quickly ceased control of the room “Okay, y/n truth or dare?”

“Truth,” I say not wanting to pick either really.

Madisson huffed, “Come on you guys let’s stop being boring!”, everyone else seemed to agree with her, convenient that she didn’t complain about that earlier.

“Dare,” I say giving in, and look back at Kitty with that mischievous glint in her eyes and am fully regretting my decision to give into peer pressure.

She smiled and proclaimed, “I dare you to kiss the person you find most attractive in the room,”.

Everyone’s eyes shot to me and an excited murmur started, I’m unable to take my eyes off my best friend, I knew she probably wanted to do good, but this was actually my worst nightmare.

“Kitty come on,” I try but no one jumps up to my defence. I look to Yuri and Q for some help but they both look like they want to see this play out.

Then Madisson’s new roommate Stella got out of her seat, she was always so quiet so all eyes shoot to her, “If you won’t do it I will,” she said with a new surge of confidence. Everyone looked confused, she made her way across the room to the wall on which Min Ho was leaning against.

His eyes scanned her face and a sick feeling started rising in my stomach, we are just good friends, maybe it was the alcohol not mixing well in my stomach. It’s not until her lips are about to touch his that I get up and rush out the room, saying I needed some fresh air.

Kitty tried to come after me, telling me its going to be fine that Stella had no chance against me and what not, but I just turned around and something in me exploded “How about you focus on your own love life Kitty, you need to tell Julianna the about what happened,” I whisper shouted.

Kitty’s face crumbled and she looked so hurt.

“Tell me what?” Julianna’s voice questioned as she appeared in the hallway.

Kitty and I turned to see her looking our way and Yuri standing beside her, Julianna looked between the two and a realization seemed to have struck her. Kitty tried to say something, to explain and I just walked away feeling even worse.

All of us had out swimsuits under our clothes cause we we’re going to end the night in the hot tub, so I headed out there now. Sitting warm water trying to keep my tears in check I could avoid the feeling of dread that I left in the house, still a few slipping gently down my face.

“Y/n,” a voice approached but I didn’t turn to him, I couldn’t, I just embarrassed myself and left Kitty to fend for herself, “come on,” he said sitting down on the side of the tub.

“I’m a terrible person,” I say simply, my whole body slumping into the hot water of the hot tub, being submerged made me feel numb.

“Can you come out so we can talk?”

“Nope, I’m going to sit in here until the water sucks me up whole and I disappear,” I admit and join my hands nervously under the water.

He sighted slightly and I could see him shuffling in the corner of my eye.

“If you won’t come out I’ll come in,”

“You really don’t have to,” I argue but he doesn’t listen, he steps in and settles in the water next to me.

“You’re not a terrible person,” he says and I turn to look at him momentarily.

“I got Kitty into shit with Julianna, I’m arguing with my parents over the most stupid thing, and I just keep ruining things for myself because I keep getting so anxious- I am like the worst,” I express looking out into the distance of the dark sky.

I feel him shuffle left to me, “come here,” he whispers and he pulls me into a hug, he’s warmer than the water, “The thing about Kitty was bound to come out at some point, and to be honest the longer it took the worse the outcome would have been,” he said brushing a hand down my hair.

I pull away slightly, “They broke up haven’t they?” I asked, his eyes softened, and he nodded, “and Kitty isn’t speaking to anyone?” I ask.

“Q went to sit with her, she won’t be angry at you forever, you guys will talk it out,” he reassured me.

I let out a half-defeated chuckle, “Who would have thought you could be somewhat wise,” I teased wiping a tear from under my eye.

“I am wise you’re just blind to genius,” he pulls one of his resting bitch faces and looks towards me with one brow raised and I actually let out a laugh.

“There she is,” he says and I can feel a smile spread across my lips, “So,” he says leaning on his arm to look at me, “who were you going to kiss?” he asked, his voice a whisper even though we were both alone out here.

I can feel the blush creep up the back of my neck and cheeks and hope that it’s too dark for him to see. The silene is peaceful and I could stay out here all night, with the mixture of fresh air and the hot water.

“Does it matter?” I ask turning towards him, I hadn’t realised how close he was sitting to me, I could feel my heartrate multiplying.

He smiles and shrugged, “I need more material for making fun of you,” he said but there was no harshness or mal intent behind it, an actual smile made its way onto my way and I shook my head, “Oh it was totally me,” and so the cockiness was back.

“Oh you wish,” I say with a challenge, the corner of his lips upturn, but my gaze falls down and my teeth sink into my bottom lip, “how was your kiss with Stella, I hear she’s been crushing on you,” I say with a sad echo of playfulness.

He shifted closer to me, “I didn’t kiss Stella,” he says, leaning his head against his fist, I watch his face waiting, “I told her there is only one person I want to kiss, and it’s not her,”.

His eyes flutter down to my lips, I can’t help but take in a breath and search his face.

“Who is it then?” I ask, so quietly you could almost miss it.

“It’s you, silly,” he says as if he were explaining it to a five-year-old.

The silence returned.

“Y/l/n”

I turned to face him again, his hand came up to move my hair behind my ear.

“Min Ho,” I say in tone that came out as a mix of a warning but also desire that was bubbling too close to the surface, we were crossing dangerous grounds here and there would be no going back.

His eyes went to my lips and mine to his. Then he was leaning in, I closed my eyes and let it happen. His lips against mine was much better than my imagine could ever do it justice, it was slow kiss, then another, and one more before he pulled away slightly and rested his forehead against mine.  

“I’ve been waiting a long while to do that,” he says and the strain in his tone brings out something in me. I put my arms around his hand and pull him onto another kiss, this one deeper, his arms found my waist and he pulls me closer and closer until I’m sitting on his lip.

“Better than you could have imaged, I know,” he says after he pulls away and laugh, moving my hand to splash him with water.

“I hate that Kitty was right. Again,” I say.

Min Ho runs a hand through his hair, “This is the only time I’m not mad that that girl is right,” he states.

Eventually we left the hot tub and made our way back inside, most people have dispersed to different rooms, the atmosphere definitely ruined. Kitty was sat crossed legged on the sofa staring at her phone as we walked in, Min Ho gave me a smile and pointed his head in her direction.

“Kitty,” I said nervously.

Her eyes shot directly to me, her eyes also red, she dropped her phone and rushed over to me pulling me into a hug, I squeezed her tightly.

“I’m so sorry,” I said, “I shouldn’t have said anything- it wasn’t my place-” I started to say rapidly btu Kitty interrupted me

“I’m also sorry, I’ve been so caught up in all this drama I didn’t even know you were fighting with your parents, and it’s good it got out now, it would have been so much more hurtful for everyone the longer it was kept quiet.

“I love you girl,” I said, tears building up in my eyes.

She giggled “I love you more,” she said pulling away, “and now I want to hear every detail about what just happened in that hot tub!” she squealed pulling to me to the sofa and pointing out the window a clear view of the tub, I hid my face behind me hands, “Looks like Kitty the matchmaker was right again,” she said proudly.

It was a relief that Kitty was able to forgive me, we spoke a little about Min Ho aware that he could be lurking around anywhere, then we talked about my fall out with my parents, and I dropped them a text saying we should talk when they wake up. Before we knew it was well past one in the morning and we agreed it was time for bed.

I paused in front of Min Ho’s door questioning whether to knock and say goodnight or if that was too weird.

“You go girl!” Kitty whisper cheered walking towards the room we slept in last night.

I took a deep breath in preparation and knocked, “Come in,” the voice on the other side said and so the rest of the night was spent talking and cuddling, maybe this trip wasn’t a total disaster after all.                                                                                  

[meadowfics]

scarface

se-mi x f!reader

the scar of your face is your coolest feature, according to se-mi

warnings: reader has a dark colored scar starting from her right lower eyebrow bone, circling around down to her coutour line on the cheek due to an accident she had as a kid. se-mi survived squid games in this fic. thanos calls you bro.

when you were seven years old, you were playing in the kitchen while your parents weren't home.

you opened up one of the drawers to find a bunch of silverware.. including one sharp beautiful knife with a pink colored handle.. your favorite color.

before you know it, you were in the hospital due to accidentally cutting yourself, very deeply and widely, on your face.

the doctors were lucky that you did not cut your right eye out.

throughout the years, you thought the scar from your stupid mistake would go away.

it did not.

nineteen years later, at the age of twenty-six.. you still had the scar that made you very insecure.

your fellow classmates throughout high school and college gave you the same nickname..

scarface

to most people, that is a pretty bad ass name.

however, it made you sick.

when you met se-mi through a mutual friend, nam-gyu to be exact, you thought se-mi would have never given you the time of day.

shoot, you never approached her.. but just always watched her as she talked to nam-gyu or min-su.

"stop being a pussy and go talk to her, bro."

thanos tells you each time he sees you yearn for se-mi in those party settings.

at one party, you excused yourself to go to the bathroom after not feeling you.

you weren't feeling well because when you tried to get a drink at the bar, the bartender flinched before he served you.

of course, the bartender apologized but you wished that your face did not scare people.

you pushed open the bathroom door as tears started to come out of your bright eyes.

everybody knew how beautiful you were behind the scar. your pretty eyes, nice cheeks, and the glow on your face overshadowed your scar.

even to se-mi.

when she noticed you going towards the bathroom, frowning, she tells nam-gyu that she will be right back.

leaning against the sink, you heard the wooden door open.

you did not bother to look up until you felt someones presence right beside you.

se-mi leaned against the sink counter just beside you, watching you with a sad look at you go to quickly wipe your eyes.

"I'm sorry."

you say, adjusting yourself to look better.

"did you need anything?"

you mumble to your crush.

"no, I just saw that you were upset."

se-mi responded.

you looked down at her hand that started to play with her lip piercing, which nearly distracted you before you coughed.

"well, its not nice being known for having an ugly scar."

se-mi flared her eyebrows.

"I think it looks fucking dope."

she mumbled.

your eyes widened, wondering if you heard that correctly.

"I'm not joking. I've talked to nam-gyu and thanos about it before, about how you always look like the coolest person in the room."

your lips turned into a smile, seeing the sincerity in se-mi's eyes.

"thank you."

"its no problem.."

you turned to face the mirror before se-mi continued,

"well there is another problem though.."

you turn back to the taller woman with confusion..

"huh?"

"you never talk to me, and its funny because I know about your little thing for me."

se-mi smirked.

you gasped quietly, wondering how she knew.

fucking thanos and nam-gyu probably told her..

"I--um."

"its okay, baby,"

se-mi comes closer to you, putting her hands around your waist as her face is inches away from yours.

"why is that? are you intimidated by me?"

"no.. its because I think you'd be intimidated by me.. not many people want to date someone who is called scarface.."

you frowned.

se-mi shakes her head, before leaning in to kiss the top of your scar below your right eyebrow.

"well, I do."

she whispers against your soft skin.

you smirk as you go and hug se-mi, something you thought you'd never get the chance to do.

"and besides... there are women out here in this world who want to date a rapper who is called.. "thanos," so just let me date the woman who is called scarface.. okay?"

se-mi's mention of thanos causes you to burst out in laughter.. breaking the sad tension that was once in the bathroom.

"a date it is then, se-mi."

I hope you enjoyed! so many more se-mi fics coming soon :)

[aangelinakii]

SOULMATE SCARS.

— matching wounds.

summary : ever since you were young, strange bruises and scars have been emerging all along your body. surprisingly, you weren't extremely clumsy, so you had no ideas as to where they came from. sure, a couple bruises might be okay — they don't even hurt anyway — but when you wake up with autopsy scars along your chest, it's time to tell a professional. what happens when you meet someone with the same scars as you?

note : description of blood and injury so just be aware of that if rhat stuff icks you out

when blood began dripping from your arm in the middle of drinks, your night got a little darker.

even in the darkness of the poorly-lit bar, a juke box in the corner ringing an old fleetwood mac song, one of your friends could make out the slash of a great cut peeking out of your shirt on your upper arm, a long, cool dribble of blood slipping down your flesh.

"holy shit—"

despite being used to plum-coloured bruises and scars from out of nowhere, you weren't much of a bleeder — or, at least, whatever strange power from above had cursed or blessed you with this.

someone grabbed a napkin and dabbed you up, but the damage was already done; scarlet spatters stained the white short sleeve of your shirt, and it stung to peel away the fabric from the fresh wound.

normally they didn't hurt, but something about this one was different. maybe you were asleep half the time they happened, so you only got the aftermath the next morning when you undressed for the shower.

needless to say, you weren't feeling like glasses of wine and gin and tonics anymore tonight, and bid your friends farewell before slipping into the nip of the gotham night.

as you rounded the corner down your block, after one of your shorter walks home, you glanced back down at your arm, goosebumps rippling along the flesh. now when you inspected it, beneath the illumination of the streetlamp perched above you, it almost looked as though your torn, sticky flesh was welding back together, starting with the edge of it.

no longer did it sting, but it was certainly sensitive against the biting breeze, and your pace quickened.

by the time you were opening your front door, light from the corridor spilling into your flat, the wound was only half-open. but also something was different.

in your apartment, i mean, like something had shifted.

steps careful and quiet, you slot your keys between your fingers as you edged further into your flat, turning the handle to make sure no noise came when the door met its hinges once more.

the couch had definitely inched slightly to the left, and the shading atop your lamp was crooked. perhaps the couch was less easy to notice, but when you lived here every day, you'd almost bumped into it before noticing — but the lampshade was undeniable.

something groaned from the bathroom, where, when you peered towards the door, had a sliver of white light peeking through the cracks in the hinges. the sound of like when you suck air in through the gaps of your teeth came after, and you knew then and there: someone was in your home.

for safe measures, you plucked one of your kitchen knives from its block and crept toward the bathroom; now, the scuff of a boot against the tiles.

once you were outside, but with enough distance to be able to make any split-second decisions, your voice edged up your throat, a croak at first, before you could find your footing.

"whoever's in there, show yourself," you stated as firmly as you could, though the waver in your tone was apparent to any trained ear. "or— or i'll call 911."

shit, you probably should've done that first, investigated later — but you'd already spoken, and there was no reversing it.

a pained cough came from behind the door, and your mind immediately went to the worst: there was a killer behind there, purposely staying quiet so you'd open the door and they'd jump out and kill you in your own home— oh, you're opening the door anyway.

but what you found wasn't any killer of the sort; just a guy.

a shirtless guy.

tons of supplies you didn't even realise you had in your house were scattered about the tiles around him, where a pair of thick tactical pants-clad legs lay spread apart weakly. one of his arms hung limp at his side, his hand sitting palm-up upon his thigh helplessly.

but what else you noticed... moving up his toned chest, flesh littered with scars and scratches, was one long scar you recognised all too well. the mere sight of it caused the painless mark along your own torso to throb — which it had never done in the years you'd had it.

starting just below each collarbone, sloping down to his solar plexus, and straight down his stomach to his navel.

a mirror image of what lay just below your shirt now.

but you had never had an autopsy, and, by the look of it, neither had this guy; sure, shadows curved below his eyes and grime littered his cheekbones and forearms, but this man was very much alive.

glinting in the light, your eyes caught a metal needle dangling by his limp arm. you followed a red thread up, up to the bulb of his shoulder, where a half-open wound lay, somehow simultaneously oozing with red and crusting with it.

mouth running dry, you tore your stare away, dropping the knife and taking your hand to tug at your stained sleeve.

although much less bloody, the cut you'd found at the bar was the exact same.

with shivering fingers, you took a ginger step forward and encouraged yourself to look back to the black-haired man leaning against your bath.

"you... you..."

it wasn't much, but it was all you could muster.

seemingly unaware of the connection you'd just made, the man averted his eyes, looking back to his wounded flesh. "sorry, i didn't realise you'd come home – thought the place was empty," he mumbled.

that didn't matter now.

perhaps it should've, really, but not when... well, you saw it.

similarly, the keychain dropped from your grip, and you edged closer to the man, whose expression twitched in alarm.

"can i see that? your arm?"

as you lowered down to a crouch, the man's green eyes followed warily, his previously parted lips thinning, but he didn't move away.

eyes lingering on him for a few more beats, you turned your attention to the red-hot gash embedded in his flesh. "what happened?" your fingers found the eye of the needle, conscious not to touch too much of the red that plagued it.

the man watched your careful movements, as you lined up the prick with his torn skin and slowly pushed it through. he was unflinching, apparently more glad to just be able to sit back and not worry about himself for once. "bad knife. really shitty as you can see."

"yeah, i can see." mentally, you snapped at yourself, for you'd been unable to leave the bitterness from your tone, and the man's expression only looked on quizzically.

your fingers left the needle, allowing it to swing against his arm as it had done before when you found him, specking him with little lines of his own blood. in one swift action, you tugged up your sleeve, revealing your own half-open wound, the seared edges of flesh linking miraculously together.

the man's dark eyebrows knitted together and he physically drew himself back slightly. "shit, what'd you do there?"

"i didn't," you snapped back — not mad at him, per se, but more so the situation: this man was the reason for your horrific wounds, ones you never felt, but were cursed with the burden of. "you did."

a scoff came from the man's lips. "yeah, right..."

no, he was right. he didn't need to say anything; you were crazy.

"have you ever... i don't know, woken up with a bruise you don't know how it got there?" you pushed, eager to plead your case.

he made an attempt to shrug, but winced and ceased the movement. "doesn't everybody?"

so he was one of those difficult ones.

he comes into your apartment bleeding everywhere, and has the audacity to have an attitude. he wasn't even welcome.

"my point is," you huffed, "yours are the same as mine."

you extended a finger at his chest. "this. i have this.

it was now that he finally looked convinced. well, not entirely, but that look of judgement softened into something more commonly identified as confusion.

you tugged at the hem of your shirt, and rose the fabric slightly to show where the end of your autopsy-type scar ended — just above your navel.

when he looked at you now, it was like trying to figure out if you were dead or alive. or maybe if he were dead or alive.

"what, so..." he began after a few silent beats. "so we're connected, or something? you get my scars, i get yours?"

that's certainly what it seemed, but you shrugged anyway; there was no way to know for sure.

lips pressing together, you leaned forward to resume sewing up his wound, unable to fathom the way your own scar seemed to stitch itself up, too — no thread, no needle.

what a strange way to end your night...

[4vanaa]

WHILE YOU WERE SLEEPING, rafe cameron, 18

summary: y/n left the outer banks years ago, determined to build a life far from the memories of her childhood love, rafe cameron. now a botanist, she's moved on-though a quiet part of her still clings to the past. when an event brings her back to OBX, she's forced to confront the one person she never truly forgot.

cw: angst | masterlist | 17 | 19 |

The sun was beginning to set over the Outer Banks as you and Noah arrived at the Chateau.

The house buzzed with laughter and familiar chaos, the kind of energy that only their group could bring. Noah seemed at ease as you approached, his hand resting lightly on the small of your back. It was a small gesture, but it made you feel grounded.

“You ready for this?” You asked, giving him a teasing smile.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” he chuckled. “Meeting your closest friends all at once feels like an ambush, but I’ll manage.”

You rolled your eyes, pulling him through the doorway. “They’ll love you. Just be yourself.”

Inside, the introductions began, and within minutes, Noah was doing what Noah did best—charming everyone.

“You’re into environmental work?” Pope asked, his eyes lighting up. “What’s your focus?”

“Mostly restoration and conservation efforts,” Noah said, leaning forward in his seat. “Right now, I’ve been looking at coastal erosion and its impact on wildlife ecosystems. It’s why I was in South America for a bit. But I’ve always been fascinated by sustainability and—”

“Okay, nerds,” JJ interrupted, grinning. “We’re at dinner, not a lecture hall.”

Noah laughed easily, unbothered by JJ’s teasing. “Fair. I’ll try to keep the nerd talk to a minimum.”

“Don’t worry,” Kie added, her voice light. “Pope and I will corner you later for all the details. It’s cool to meet someone who actually gives a damn about the planet.”

As the conversation shifted, Noah found himself bonding with JJ over surfing. They swapped stories, and JJ even suggested they hit the waves before the wedding. Cleo, sitting across from them, leaned back in her chair and studied Noah with a critical eye.

“I don’t trust it,” she declared.

Everyone fell silent for a moment, confused.

“Don’t trust what?” Sarah asked, her brow furrowed.

“Him.” Cleo pointed dramatically at Noah, though her tone was playful. “He’s too perfect. Smart, good-looking, and nice? There’s gotta be a catch.”

Noah laughed, shaking his head. “I promise, no catch. I’m just a guy.”

“He really is,” You chimed in, smiling at Cleo. “Told you guys you’d love him.”

Sarah nudged you, her voice lowering. “He’s even cuter in person. I’m so happy for you.”

You gave her a grateful smile. Everything was going well. Noah fit seamlessly into your world. Everyone liked him—everyone except for Rafe.

Rafe had been quiet most of the night, his standoffishness obvious to anyone paying attention. He leaned back in his chair, nursing a glass of bourbon, his gaze flicking to Noah every so often with thinly veiled annoyance.

When you reached over to brush something off Noah’s sleeve, Rafe’s jaw tightened. He couldn’t hold his tongue any longer.

“So, Noah,” Rafe started, his tone deceptively light. “You’re just… this nice all the time?”

The room quieted slightly, everyone picking up on the edge in his voice.

Noah glanced at him, his expression neutral. “I try to be myself, yeah.”

“Right.” Rafe let out a dry laugh, swirling his drink. “Seems a little too good to be true, doesn’t it? Nobody’s that nice. You sure it’s not all an act?”

“Rafe,” you snapped, glaring at him. “Cut it out.”

“What?” Rafe feigned innocence, looking around the table. “Just saying, it’s a little suspicious. No one’s that perfect. He’s gotta have a flaw, right?”

Noah tensed beside you, but his voice remained calm. “I don’t think being nice is a flaw.”

“Of course you don’t,” Rafe muttered under his breath.

“Alright, that’s enough,” you said firmly, your voice sharp. “Noah’s been nothing but kind to everyone here. Maybe you could try doing the same for once.”

The tension at the table was palpable, but Noah reached over and placed a calming hand on yours. “It’s fine,” he said softly, his voice soothing. “Really.”

“No, it’s not,” you insisted, glaring at Rafe again.

“He’s been nothing but rude, and I’m not going to sit here and let him ruin tonight.”

After dinner, you stepped outside for a moment of air. The night was quiet except for the soft chirp of crickets. You wrapped your arms around yourself, staring up at the stars, when you heard the sound of footsteps behind you.

“You just can’t help yourself, can you?” you said without turning around.

“Funny, I was going to say the same to you,” Rafe replied, leaning against the porch railing.

You sighed, finally looking at him. “What do you want, Rafe?

“I want to know why you keep pretending this thing with him is real,” he said, his voice low.

You stared at him, incredulous. “Are you serious right now? He’s my boyfriend.”

“And I’m supposed to believe you’re in love with him?” he challenged, stepping closer.

“I am in love with him,” you said firmly.

Rafe’s laugh was bitter, cutting. “Sure. That’s why you can’t even look at me without falling apart.”

Your chest tightened, but you stood your ground. “Please don’t do this.”

“Why not?” he asked, his voice softening. “You know how I feel about you, Sunshine.”

“Stop calling me that,” you snapped, your voice breaking slightly. “I love Noah. I don’t know how many times I have to say it before you get it.”

Rafe stepped closer, his eyes searching yours.“You can say it a hundred times, and I still won’t believe it.”

You swallowed hard, the weight of your words suffocating even as they left your lips. “You think this is love? Acting like a child every time I’m happy? Making me feel like I owe you something just because you can’t let go?”

Rafe flinched like you’d slapped him, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed thickly. The sharp glint in his eyes dulled, replaced by something much heavier, much harder to look at.

“Can’t let go?” he repeated quietly, almost to himself. He let out a bitter laugh, his voice trembling on the edge of something vulnerable. “I let you go, Y/N. I let you walk away. I let you be with him because I thought… I thought you’d come back.”

Your chest tightened, but you kept your gaze steady. “That’s not fair, Rafe. I didn’t ask you to wait for me.”

“No, you didn’t,” he agreed, stepping closer. “But you also didn’t tell me how to stop waiting, did you? You didn’t tell me how to stop hoping. You left, and I stayed here trying to figure out how to fix myself, because I thought maybe—just maybe—if I did, you’d see me differently.”

“Rafe…” you started, your voice softening despite yourself.

“But it was never enough,” he continued, his voice cracking. “I wasn’t enough. And now you’re with him, and he’s perfect, right? He doesn’t yell, doesn’t screw up. He’s everything I’ll never be.”

“Stop,” you said, your throat tight. “You don’t know him like I do.”

“I don’t need to,” Rafe shot back, his eyes burning with emotion. “I see the way you look at him, and I hate it. I hate him because he gets what I spent years trying to be good enough for.”

You clenched your fists at your sides, your resolve wavering. “This isn’t about you, Rafe. This is about me choosing what’s best for me.”

“And you think he’s best for you?” he asked, his voice trembling with disbelief. “Fine. Maybe he is. But don’t stand here and tell me what I feel isn’t love. Don’t act like I didn’t try.”

You looked away, unable to meet his gaze, the weight of his pain crashing over you like a wave. “You think this is easy for me?” you whispered. “I hate this. I hate that you’re hurting because of me.”

“Then don’t do it,” Rafe said, stepping closer. His voice was low, pleading. “You don’t have to hate me, Sunshine. Just… don’t push me away like this. Not like I mean nothing to you.”

Your breath caught at the use of the nickname, the softness in his tone slicing through your defenses. You shook your head, your voice breaking. “I’m trying to move on, Rafe. Why can’t you let me?”

“Because I don’t want to,” he admitted, his words raw and unfiltered. “Because moving on means letting go of the only thing that’s ever made sense to me. And I can’t. I won’t.”

You turned away, your chest heaving with the effort of keeping your tears at bay. “This isn’t fair, Rafe. To me, to Noah, to you. You’re not the only one hurting.”

“You’re right,” he said, his voice quieter now, almost defeated. “It’s not fair. But you’re the one who keeps telling me to be better, and I’m trying. I swear I’m trying. But every time I see you with him, it feels like I’m being ripped apart all over again.”

You turned back to him then, your eyes wet and glistening. “You’re hurting yourself, Rafe. You’re doing this to yourself.”

“I know,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I don’t know how to stop. Not when it’s you.”

Your heart shattered at the raw honesty in his words, but you steeled yourself, knowing you had to draw the line. “I chose Noah,” you said firmly, though your voice wavered. “I don’t know how many times I have to say it before you believe me.”

Rafe looked at you, his eyes glassy, and for the first time, you saw just how deeply you had cut him. He nodded slowly, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “I hear you,” he said, his voice barely audible. “I just… I wish it was me.”

The air between them was thick and suffocating, and before you could stop yourself, you whispered, “I wish you’d tried harder before it was too late.”

The moment the words left your mouth, you regretted them. Rafe’s expression twisted, his pain now painted clearly across his face. He opened his mouth, as if to say something, but then closed it again, swallowing hard.

You stepped back, the guilt clawing at your chest. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, though it felt meaningless now.

Rafe turned away, his hands shoved into his pockets as he stared out into the dark. “Yeah,” he said after a long pause, his voice hollow. “Me too.”

And just like that, the fragile thread between you snapped.

You stood frozen, the weight of your words lingering in the air as Rafe turned and walked away into the darkness. You wiped at your eyes hastily, willing yourself to stay composed. But as you turned back toward the house, you stopped short, your heart sinking.

Noah was standing near the doorway, half-hidden by the shadows, his expression unreadable. He hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, but the tail end of your conversation had carried to him like a whisper on the wind. His gaze lingered on you, searching your face for something—answers, reassurance, or maybe just the truth you couldn’t quite admit to yourself yet.

For a moment, he said nothing, his jaw tightening slightly before he finally smiled softly, as if to brush it off. “You okay, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice as warm and steady as ever.

You nodded quickly, forcing a smile in return. “Yeah,” you lied, walking toward him. But as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his chest, your mind wandered—back to the look in Rafe’s eyes, to the pain you couldn’t seem to escape.

And though Noah didn’t say anything more, his grip on you tightened, as if silently reminding you that he wasn’t going anywhere. Not yet.

a/n: started drafting the ending. you guys will be happy!!

🏷️: @xoxo-ada @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @sleepiibunniiii @urbrunettebombshell @sideboobrry11 @acidfeens @marleymarleymarleymarley @hadids-world @ursogorgeous1313 @louxmcl @cyberkitty1 @pogueprincesa @rlalliehayes @evelynffics

[gotham-daydreams]

Suspicions

Day 3 {Challenge Masterlist}

Getting close, but not close enough. Something's wrong here. How could they have known? Who did this?

[Yandere Batfam × Gender Neutral! Cop Reader]

[Warnings: Mentions of suicide (only briefly talked about in dialog), cults, occult like acctivites, weird behavior (?), arson (sort of).] (Note: Unless otherwise specified, it's to be believed that actions involved with harming, hurting, or heavily injuring the self are not talking about the Batfamily or the reader. Still, you have been warned.)

------------

Unlike the previous two days, this one starts off rather eventful - which is honestly more common and normal than anyone in the Wayne family liked to admit, but really, it wasn’t their fault they all just worked better in chaos. Nevertheless, for those that weren’t up already, the day is smooth sailing until they exit their rooms - or wherever they slept - and are left to find what’s happened in the batcave.

Tim is one of the last to find out, as he just gets his slow morning started - grabbing a cup of tea to help him wake up instead of coffee, rubbing his eyes to get the tiredness out of them, and starting things off officially with a plate of breakfast. Once that’s done and out of the way, he finally gives himself a good, simple stretch before heading down to the batcave. It’s only there, does he see the mess unfolding.

It’s subtle, sure, but with how long Tim has technically been a Wayne, well, he can tell when something’s going on. Bruce is drinking coffee, and Cassandra, while out of the suit, already looks to be itching to put it back on again. Tim noticed that Stephanie had slept over while he was on his way to the kitchen earlier, but didn’t think much about it - though what caught his attention was the fact that not only was Jason here, but that he was awake. Huh.

“What’s going on here?” Tim asks, voice having its usual echo as he takes a sip of his tea, approaching the little crowd by the batcomputer - taking note of Barbara’s presence as well, have any of them slept?

Cassandra seems to take note of him first, and perks up, though just as she goes to supposedly explain what they’re doing, Jason cuts her off. Instead, he straightens himself out, and asks, “Hey, have you or any of your birds seen anyone weird around, lately? Like, extra shady or just new? Like they come from out of the city?”

Tim raises a brow at the question, “This is Gotham? Every other person looks like someone shady- and what does ‘extra shady’ even mean? And besides, Gotham is a big city, newcomers come in and out everyday,” he points out, and though his response only gets an annoyed groan out of Jason, he can’t help but remain curious, “why? What’s going on this time?”

Jason seems to ignore Tim’s own question, and instead asks, “Okay, have you seen anyone with some weird symbol on them? Something simple that represents a sun, maybe on their neck, wrists, arm, or just some exposed part of their body?”

“Uh, no, I haven’t,” Just as Jason looks like he’s going to throw something, or someone, Tim adds, “but I think a few of the birds have, and- hey, some new officers came in from Metropolis, right? What’s up with that?”

Just as Jason goes to open his mouth again, Cassandra gives him a nudge, and gestures for Tim to come over.

From there, he’s given the gist, and he has the reasonable reaction of just, being confused. While he understands what’s going on, what he doesn’t get is the supposed group itself. While they do seem to be working towards this ‘Red Dawn’, is it something they’re working towards, or merely preparing for? Is there something on that specific day that will happen, and will allow… well, whatever they’re hoping for, to happen? There are a lot of things that are undetermined, but Tim is on board with the general goal - they have to learn more about these people, what they want, and put a stop to it since it has to be something bad that people are killing themselves over it. You were right when you said that the only people they were hurting were themselves, but they were still people, and what if their influence spreads? What if they rope in more people, only for them to die-

Duke rushes into the cave, a smile of sorts on his face and he hurries around the space, gathering a few things here and there - mostly his gear, but some other things too - quickly, as if in a hurry. It was hard not to notice, seeing as he was the only real movement going on in the room and it drew the attention of those at the computer. Tim was the first to question it, asking, “What’s the rush?”

“Patrol!” It was an easy enough answer, but something felt off about it, though Tim couldn’t put a finger on it - no one really could, but those that were paying more attention did notice something.

“Hey, aren’t you forgetting something?” Barbara points out, and Duke pauses, chuckling briefly before grabbing his helmet.

“Right- thanks! Anyway, gotta go-!” With that, the young vigilante rushes out of the cave after hurriedly putting on his suit and gear. A few of those in the cave stare, raising a couple of brows or just looking confused before ultimately returning to what they were doing – even if such a sight weirded them out. Cassandra, however, couldn’t help but narrow her eyes at the sight as she watched Duke rush out of the cave.

He seemed… really excited to be going on patrol… hm.

Duke could hardly focus on where his feet were going as he rushed out of the house, a warm sort of feeling blooming in his chest as he made his way out of the cave, and through the front door – nearly bumping into someone on the way out. Even if he was able to just barely move out of the way, a quick, “Sorry! I’ve really got to go, Selina!” Leaves him, the words tumbling out of his mouth like how he almost trips over the single step in front of the door. Leaving behind a confused but amused catwoman all the while.

Getting to the city is easy enough, and even more so with a small tug in his chest seemingly guiding Duke somewhere. Does he know where? Not particularly, but he can’t help but have a good feeling about this.

Dropping down in an alley, Duke peaks around a corner to get a glimpse of the city before slipping out – only to bump into someone… somehow.

Shaking it off, he goes to say something – only to stop himself when he sees who it is, what a coincidence. “Oh, [Last Name], what’re you doing here?”

You glance over your shoulder, and raise your brow at the sight of the teenager, “Grabbing breakfast? Why else would I be waiting in line at this breakfast spot?” A small, amused chuckle escapes you as you offer a hand to help him up, and it’s only then that Duke notices he fell at all.

“Oh! Yeah, that… um, makes sense?” Grasping your hand, he pulls himself up and glances to the side awkwardly. This wasn’t very professional, was it? As a vigilante, he was supposed to be better than this – and more, well, vigilant! He had to get it together, he couldn’t embarrass himself in front of you!

Clearing his throat, Duke meets your eyes once again, “Seems like things are busy here, huh?” Just what the hell was he trying to do? Duke couldn’t understand – he had patrol to do, he couldn’t just sit here and make small talk-

“I guess you could say that, it does seem busier than it has been the last few days, but nevermind that- what’re you doing here, Thomas?” Your grip loosens on his hand, but Duke can’t find it in himself to let go. Not after what you just said, and so casually at that – like knowing his secret identity was common knowledge and not, well, secret!

Duke’s mind races, with him staring at you like your face alone will provide all the answers, and in the midst of his disbelief, a breathless, stunned, “What?” Slips past his lips, and your brows seem to furrow.

“Is something wrong, Thomas-?”

“How-” Duke can barely even speak, his eyes blown wide. He wants to pull away, but it’s like your hand is the only thing keeping him grounded – making him almost hate how real it feels, especially as his hold tightens. With him now grasping onto it like he’s both afraid to let go, and desperate to cling onto something, but what? Duke doesn’t know. Hell, he’s almost scared to know, and that confuses him even more. “How do you know who I am?” It’s a simple question, but it’s spoken so quietly and hesitantly that it’s like Duke himself is unsure if he should’ve spoken at all, or if he even said it to begin with. As if, for a moment, he couldn’t tell if he managed to speak at all, or if his eyes and the way his hand shook had asked the question for him.

It’s beyond confusing, and honestly making Duke’s head hurt the more he tries to make sense of everything. The world spins, and yet zeros in on this moment at the same time, and Duke almost feels like he’s about to fall or even collapse all over again-

Then, he sees your smile and how you turn more towards him, and it’s like he can breathe all over again.

“Well, you’re adopted- or at least being taken care of by Mr. Wayne- aren’t you? It’s pretty hard to not know you, Thomas, especially in Gotham. Which- is sort of like Mr. Wayne’s little empire, don’t you think?” You respond easily, words almost playful as you carefully rest your other hand over his – most would pull away or tell him to stop because of how much it hurts, but you don’t. Almost like you can’t feel it, or just see how much the small action means to him – to hold onto something steady, unmoving, and undeniably real in this moment of confusion, dread, and fear. Maybe it’s both, but who’s to say.

Duke struggles to respond, only managing to stutter out an, “I-” a few times before you decide to spare him once more.

“Granted, I’m surprised to see you out and about so early. A growing boy like you needs his rest, doesn’t he?” Your fingers brush against the back of his hand, and it’s only then that Duke realizes that he’s feeling it on his skin, not though his gloves or suit – and he finally looks down. When… did he put on civilian clothes?

Regardless, he can’t help but ease. The tight tension in his shoulders drops, and Duke exhales, relieved. “Right- well, I was just out grabbing a quick bite to eat. Always good to get outta the house, yeah?” He replies easily, the excuse coming easy to him – and as if on cue, his stomach rumbles… Did he eat breakfast this morning? When’s the last time he’s forgotten something like that?

Your expression softens, and you give a small shrug, “‘Suppose you’re right, can’t really argue with that.” You glance down at his stomach before looking back at the teen, and pull your hand back – an action that makes Duke’s hand twitch before he lets it fall back to his side. “How about you join me?”

Duke can’t help but be taken aback by your request, and stammers a little as he straightens up and says, “I couldn’t- I can’t-”

“Oh, c’mon. It’ll just be a little bite, and besides, I’ve already got a table. Breakfast’s on me, yeah?”

“I really shouldn’t-”

“[Last Name]?” A waiter calls out, causing you to perk up.

“Ah, that must be it! Now, c’mon,” you gesture for Duke to follow you inside, “I promise I won’t keep you long. But consider this my thanks for yesterday- I definitely underestimate how big Gotham really is.”

The young vigilante hesitates, unsure if he should follow you or try to decline again. After all, he still had patrol – and with this weird group going around, he couldn’t afford to just go off and push aside his duty for breakfast, could he? In situations like this, it was best to stay on top of things and remain vigilant, wasn’t it?

Duke feels his stomach growl much more insistently this time, and he can practically feel the painful pinch of the void growing inside it… It wouldn’t be good if he did patrol on an empty stomach, would it? After all, he had to be in top shape to properly perform his duties, right? Being on an empty stomach wouldn’t do him any good, and would only hinder him further…

“You comin’, Thomas?” The teen’s feet before he could fully process your words, but he offers a nod and agreement all the same.

Bruce would understand, right?

The waiter leads you and Duke to a booth, and from there, things go smoothly. The silence isn’t as bad as one would think, and for those that didn’t know any better – they’d think you were friends or had some friendly relation since conversation flowed seamlessly and easily. It wasn’t long before your orders were made, with you encouraging Duke to order whatever he liked, and the wait was practically nonexistent. Though, that’s only to be expected when you two got along so well. It may have been weird in any other circumstance, but here, it wasn’t. It was natural, just like everything else was.

Really, only those on the outside looking in could notice anything, and someone eventually did.

Cassandra had felt that something was weird, and with how Duke’s body language had read this morning, she couldn’t help but be curious. Not to mention worried, especially since they had enough things to worry about. So, seeing her brother eating with a cop from Metropolis was… weird to say the least. It felt weirder knowing it was you for some reason, but she couldn’t explain why. You couldn’t have possibly been the reason for Duke’s excitement, could you? No, that didn’t make any sense – unless… you knew each other previously? Would Duke have left something like that out?

Just seeing something like this spawned too many questions, and Cassandra wasn’t getting any from standing across the street. Especially not when your body language reads as calm, happy, and oddly enough – full of energy, along with a trace of confidence. With Duke being almost… too happy, too calm and content for someone that was supposed to be a stranger. You were helping them on the case, of course, but they didn’t know you as civilians. They weren’t supposed to, and yet Duke didn’t have the suit on – where was it?

… She could stand there until you both left, but something told her that wasn’t going to get her anywhere either. Something told her that she had to approach, if only to confront you and get Duke out of there herself. To help him get back on track if anything, and to get some sort of explanation if she was smart about things.

So, approaching the establishment, Cassandra steps inside and wastes no time heading over to where you and Duke are sitting. Resisting the urge to just grab you by the collar and get answers out of you, she simple rests a hand on your shoulder and gives it a squeeze – which is more than enough to grab your attention.

Looking up at her, a confused expression passes by before another bright smile rests and makes itself home on your face. “Ah, You must be Cain, correct? Or would you prefer Cain-Wayne?” A light laugh escapes as you add, “It’s a bit of a tongue twister, but the choice is really yours, young one.”

Surprised, Cassandra can’t help but blink before her expression hardens and he brows furrow. Taking note of her confusion, you simply say, “I haven’t been here for long, but word travels fast in Gotham! Besides, who wouldn’t know about the children Mr. Wayne has taken in? You’re all a very common topic amongst the city folk, and from your expression – I’m willing to assume you’re surprised to hear that.” There was something in your tone that made those last few words of yours almost sound sarcastic. Cassandra couldn’t pinpoint what it was, but it made her narrow her eyes all the same. What were you trying to get at-?

“Cass?” Hearing Duke’s voice makes Cassandra glance at him for a moment, and the look in his eyes rubs her the wrong way. He shouldn’t have an expression like that, not for a stranger, even if you are from Metropolis. “What’re you doing here? I thought you were still… home.” The small pause in his words doesn’t slip past her, and it certainly doesn’t make Cassandra feel any better either, but it isn’t enough to make her leave.

Even as she doesn’t say anything, her eyes say enough, and you notice how Duke tenses slightly while under her gaze. You don’t understand what they’re saying, or whatever they seem to be communicating, but you’re not bothered by it. Communication was a universal thing, after all, and you’ve seen many people find all sorts of ways to do it – with or without words. It’s something you’ve picked up on with time, but that’s a given considering things.

Nevertheless, you speak up and interrupt… whatever it is that’s going on here. “Why don’t you join us, Cain? Thomas was just finishing up, but it’s like they say; the more the merrier!”

Cassandra seems taken aback by your offer, and so does Duke, but you only focus on her for now. Despite not having said a word, it’s like you can feel her growing quieter, and just as you go to say something else, she glances at Duke before promptly taking a seat next to him – nearly pushing him towards the window just to create some space for herself.

Naturally, Duke responds with a surprised, “Hey!” At the sudden intrusion of his space, but ultimately does little to get it back, and instead moves over to grant Cassandra her desired space.

From there, you carry on as you did before, but the younger ones across from you seem awkward – you can’t decipher a reason for this, not on your own, but a few eventually come to you and you try to work around it as best you can. At the start, things are strained and it’s obvious that there is something more than what both are deciding to show. Which, while smart, is inconvenient at best.

Regardless, you do what you can to spark conversation. Duke responds well enough after a few questions that ease him back into the flow of things, but Cassandra takes a while longer. Though that only makes sense since she’s just gotten into things, and is only starting to get into that flow as well. It’s not hard to notice that she’s simply just observing for now, and most likely wants to keep it that way, but you didn’t make that offer for her to just watch.

You start with something to drink, offering coffee since that seemed to be a common choice around here, and even take a sip of your own beverage while you were at it, and ask if Duke wanted anything else. It’s always the little things that count, but of course Cassandra remains as she is, and doesn’t respond. It’s only after a good minute or so does she get something, though if it’s to ‘blend in’ easier or because she genuinely wanted something to drink, you couldn’t tell – but that didn’t matter. Eventually, she gives you small responses by nodding or shaking her head, among other small gestures that seem to give just enough information to count as some sort of reaction. Cassandra was responding and reacting more to things Duke was saying, but that didn’t bother you. She was beginning to ease up, and that’s what ultimately counts.

Then, you’re given a golden opportunity as her stomach gives a small rumble. It’s barely noticeable, and not even Duke hears it, but Cassandra does and you notice her reaction well enough to tell. Of course, you give her the same offer you gave to Duke earlier – and even if she is more hesitant and reluctant, you take a risk and push things as you get her something. Just as before, the wait is hardly long at all – even if Cassandra seemed to feel it more than you did – and when it comes, it takes her a bit to even poke at it, but she caves eventually.

From there, everything eases just as it did before. Whatever you picked, she ends up liking it, and the conversation flows much better now that Cassandra is less tense. Your smile from before remains, and the morning carries on splendidly.

However, as with all things, it eventually comes to an end as you get a notification on your mobile device, and a small huff escapes you. Things are coming along, but it’s time to call it – you’ve been here long enough. You signal for the check, and once it arrives, you simply say, “Well this has been nice, hasn’t it? I don’t know what I expected, but I’m pleasantly surprised by both of you. This has been… eye opening, as one would say,” you muse, another light laugh escaping you, “but I’ve kept you both for long enough. I’m sure you both have places to be.” You don’t even look as the waiter takes the check back after you slip on your Rose Bank card.

Duke seems to tense slightly, and stops you from standing as he shoots up from his seat, “Wait, do you have to go right now? If there’s anywhere you need to go, I could take you-” You wave him off, and shake your head.

“There’s no need, I know my way around well enough, but thank you-” Cassandra moves to stand as well, and before she can even fully get out, Duke scrambles to get out of the booth and stand in front of you.

“You just got here a bit ago, right? I’m sure I can still help-”

“Thomas, I assure you I’m fine. I’m just heading back to the station,” you handle the check and slip your card back into your wallet when the waiter comes back around. Duke struggles to speak, and Cassandra seems concerned. Hm.

Exhaling softly, you give the teen a pat on his shoulder, “If anything happens, remember, you can always contact the GCPD if need be, alright?” Duke didn’t seem too pleased with that response, but all it takes is one more long look before he averts his gaze and nods.

“Yeah, yeah… alright.” You grin, and give him another pat.

“Perfect! See you around, kid!” With that, you leave without a second thought, feeling more confident then before – and Cassandra could tell. Of course she could, but before she could think about why you were going to the station this early in the day, her eyes drift back to Duke, and she can’t help but pause. His body language and overall attitude is completely different now… but… why? What could have made him so upset?

The young vigilante glances up when she hears the small bell of the door, indicating your leave… and she doesn’t know why, but she can’t help but feel disappointed.

— — — — — —

Making your way to the station is easy enough, and as you check the time, you hear someone clear their throat behind you. Just in time.

You turn around, and are greeted by the sight of blue eyes and dark hair – honestly, if his face shape was different, you’d think he was Bruce. It’s almost weird that they aren’t biologically related, but that’s the funny thing about genetics, you suppose.

Nevertheless, you offer a smile as always, “I got your call, but I didn’t expect to be meeting you in Gotham this soon, Grayson. You really are punctual. Though noon is an odd time to meet up, don’t you think?” Richard – or as everyone apparently calls him, Dick – just gives a smile of his own that borders on a smirk, and shrugs nonchalantly.

“Couldn’t think of a better time, and besides, it isn’t that bad. It’s just in time for lunch!” You hum at his response, finding it a bit curious before giving a nod.

“Well, when you put it like that it almost sounds smart,” You chuckle out, watching as his face contorts slightly. “Regardless, I got your call. You wanted to discuss the case?”

Dick doesn’t seem to appreciate your little jab, nor how you brush past it so fast – but just huffs before giving a nod. “Yeah, some guys said you’d know some things…? Or that someone here did?” You raise a brow before a look of confusion settles on your face.

“A few of us here do, but the one that would know the most would be detective Greenwood,” yet, you pause, as if thinking for a moment before adding, “I assume the situation in Bludhaven has gotten worse?”

The sigh that escapes him is telling enough, even more so with how he rubs the back of his neck, and the nod he gives is almost guilty. “Yeah… and even saying that feels like you’re sugar coating it.” Hm, must be like Metropolis then – that’s good to know. “I guess Ludwig told you?”

“Among a few other things, but just gave a general idea,” Dick visibly deflates at your words, and so, as if extending an olive branch of sorts, you gesture to a cafe nearby. “How about we get you some coffee and a quick bite to eat, hm? Can’t imagine getting here was an easy trip.”

Dick’s practically already following you to the small shop when you make your offer, and a low, exaggerated groan escapes him. “You don’t even know the half of it, it’s like Gotham’s become some highly sought out tourist destination overnight! It’s insanity, I tell you- makes no sense! The people who live here don’t like it enough as it is, why would anyone else want to be here?”

You shrug your shoulders, and guide both of you over to the cafe, “Not a clue, but it is weird when you put it like that. But maybe it’s nothing, who knows? We’ve got enough to deal with, anyway.”

“Tell me about it… not like there's anyone around here that wants to deal with this kind of weather. It feels way too warm for fall, if you ask me.” Dick mumbles, making his way over to the counter to order, and you only partially shrug, giving another nod in half agreement. You didn’t feel a difference, but it could just be because you’re used to it.

“I guess so,” you say, pulling out your wallet to pay – seeing as you offered to begin with. Obviously, Dick notices and doesn’t move to stop you, but can’t help but raise a brow.

“Aren’t you going to get anything?”

You glance at him for a moment before huffing softly, almost as if amused by what he said, and just hand the cashier your Rose Bank card to pay.

“I had a filling brunch.”

— — — — — — — — — — — —

Despite everything that’s been going on, this is probably one of their more organized efforts to tackle the night – which is really saying something, since there’s always been attempts, but it’s hard to be orderly amidst chaos. Something that Gotham practically breeds, even if this particular strain comes from out of town.

Tim and Duke are in the manor running tests on the organic material Stephanie and Jason had managed to get from the other night, with Barbara doing similar work in the clock tower. The others are out in the city, with Bruce running some things by Gordon, Selina being god knows where, and the others tracking some shipment while taking care of minor crimes and such along the way.

It’s almost… weird how coordinated this ‘cult’ seems to be, not to mention just how many people seem to be in on this thing. There didn’t seem to be an exact number at the moment, and if they really did split up, then there may even be more members that they weren’t aware of that have taken refuge outside of Gotham-

Point is, there were definitely a lot of people in this cult. Maybe even too many to coordinate and organize, at least for them to work so in sync with one another as they were now. It’d make more sense if they were only in Gotham, but until they got Clark’s report, no one could be sure of that – even if Dick responding so readily when Bruce had called him in was telling enough on its own. There was also the possibility of there being multiple organizers and leaders for this, which seems like the obvious choice, but even so – who could get a system in place that works this smoothly? It’s almost unnatural. Uncanny, even. Not to mention it doesn’t make sense if there’s no incentive for these people to be doing all of this-

Tim couldn’t figure it out, anyway. It felt like there was still so much they didn’t know yet, and like one thing was happening right after the other. Despite not being out in the city himself, he could use his birds as his eyes to see outside while he remained in the cave – so, in a way he was also tracking the cult. What Tim found weird himself is that you didn’t think the cult had a proper name, or that they weren’t called after the event all of these groups seem to be working towards. It made the most logical sense that they would be, or at least something similar to it – but you, someone who's been working on this case longer than anyone they knew at the moment, disagreed. Why? Regardless, aside from this supposed ‘Red Dawn’, what incentive did… well, anyone have to be a part of the cult to begin with? Did the event itself grant them something? What even was the Red Dawn? What did it have to do with all this soil and sand?

There were too many questions and not enough answers, but he supposes that’s why they’re even investigating to begin with. Though, if Tim had a say in this – it feels too organized to be something that only started three or so days ago. Have they really only been in Gotham for just a couple of days? If what his birds are seeing is real, then it’s more likely that they’ve been here for months-

[“Oh, would you look at that? They split again. Geez, really makes you wonder why they’re moving this stuff around like this. Seems ssseriously inefficient if you ask me.” Jason’s voice sparks in the commlink, tone sarcastic and rough.]

[“Agreed, there hardly seems to be a purpose to such tactics.” Damian huffs, going quiet for a moment only to add, “Unless they really are trying to distract us.”]

Tim perks up at this, and uses a nearby bird to perch on top of one of the telephone lines that go across the street. Watching as the next load of… whatever this cult was hauling and bringing around, drives off down the street. Some of it in a truck, and the other half of it in various cars. Not exactly subtle, but it would be hard to keep track of it all if one person was trying to keep tabs on things. Especially if said person was human.

[“Gonna have to agree with you guys, these people… they’re doing something, alright.” Stephanie chimes in, the suspicion clear in her voice.]

“What does that mean?” Tim can’t help but ask, trying to focus on the sample he’s analyzing, but can’t help but focus more on what his birds are seeing – especially when it’s more interesting the shuffling through samples of dirt.

[Stephanie sighs, “Seems like they’re trying to spread this stuff all around. Parks, gardens, bakeries, flower shops- all kinds of places, and from the looks of things? Whatever they’re doing here, it’s getting to other civilians as well. Guards and employees are helping them, and not just to open the back door either.”]

[“Someone open the front door?” Jason asks rhetorically.]

[Stephanic stiffs a chuckle, but Cassandra responds with a curt, “Yes. And storage.”]

[Jason was quiet for a moment before a small, “... Right, ‘course they did.”]

With his birds, Tim is able to follow as many trails as he can – and upon noticing a particularly weird detail, his brows furrow. “They… looped back around.”

[“Yep, I see them. Right back at the gardens… weird.” Stephanie confirms, sounding equally confused.]

[“They’re obviously trying to play us, but why? So they can plant more of this… red shit everywhere?” Jason can’t help but question.]

Tim shakes his head, which the closest bird to Jason and Damian emulates, “No, that doesn’t make sense. They’ve got loads of this stuff all over Gotham- I don’t see why they’d need more, unless…” He grows quiet, thinking for a moment before he looks down at the sample he’s supposed to be examining. Were they thinking of this the wrong way?

[“Unless… what?” Stephanie asks.]

He tries to think of a way to explain it, fumbling for a moment before just saying, “Well, do we even know what this stuff does?”

[“That’s what we have you looking at it for, yeah? Shouldn’t you or Barbara, or hell- even Duke know?” Jason chips in again.]

[Damian sucks his teeth, “Of course you can’t even do the one job we actually give you, Drake.”]

Tim can practically feel the disdain in Damian’s voice as he says his last name, which makes his brow twitch – but he shakes it off. He tries to, at least.

“I’m trying! I just… don’t know what I’m looking at, or why, okay? This whole situation is… weird.”

[“Look, Tim, people… people died over this stuff. There’s gotta be something weird about it. Maybe weird chemicals or…?” Stephanie tries to suggest.]

The watcher huffs at the reminder, but ultimately relents as he gives it another look while still having his birds keep tabs on things. All he sees is the same thing, and as he increases the magnification on the microscope, he only finds himself growing more… confused. More weirded out than anything, and a little curious, sure, but confused all the same.

Leaning back, he takes a breath, “I don’t understand, it looks alien… but how can that even be possible?”

[“We work with aliens, is it really that strange, Drake?”]

“I know that- but this is like- different! The organisms in the dirt are being taken over by something- and it’s like it’s both trying to take over and adapt to it?”

[“Like… a parasite trying to get used to its host?”]

“Kind of? It’s hard to explain… and this substance in the dirt- no wonder some of it looks like sand…”

[“So, instead of ‘getting used to’ the host, it’s killing it.” Jason suggests.]

“Yeah, like it can’t adapt properly or… is valuing infection over adaptation. It seems to feed on organic material and create more- but there’s something weird about it too.”

[“... And that is?”]

Tim hesitates for a moment, unsure himself, before eventually just putting the idea out there. “Well, at this pace… if their plan is for it to infect all the organic material in Gotham for whatever reason, then this is a seriously inefficient way to do it. Their plan here isn’t to have this stuff in all the dirt - at least, not to change it all. It seems more like a byproduct of whatever they’re trying to do with it.”

[“Well, what’s in the dirt, Tim?” Stephanie asks.]

“That’s the thing- I have no idea. It’s like its own organism, but I haven’t seen anything like this. It’s completely alien, and I doubt it’s the friendly kind.”

[“Well- I have to agree with you there. If it was… well, who knows how this would go. But nothing about all of this particularly screams ‘friendly’.”]

[“Did the people shooting themselves give that away?” Jason sarcastically quips.]

[“The purposefully suspicious activity certainly doesn’t help.” Damian adds, sounding equally pleased.]

Tim zones out of the conversation, glancing back at the samples Jason and Stephanie were able to bring in that he hasn’t fully looked at yet. The samples themselves don’t seem to ‘decay’ necessarily, and it seems to take them a while to eat away at the dirt or sand they’ve been ‘mixed’ with – from the looks of things, anyway.

No, if anything it gives the impression of a substance trying to reach homeostasis. Since, it’s either that or it’s trying to revert back to it’s original state for… whatever reason. Whatever other material it produces in that process is simply a byproduct of its efforts. The real question is why. Why is it trying to change? Why is it working to do… whatever it’s trying to do?

Mindlessly, Tim’s blank eyes drift over to where Duke was sitting, only to pause.

The teenager was hunched over, entirely focused on the task at hand – and whereas that isn’t inherently a bad thing, Duke hardly seems to be breathing, like the smallest gust of air or wind will tamper with the sample so much. Taking too much precaution when it comes to treating it. Not like it’s dangerous, but like it’s precious, like handling something more fragile than glass.

The sight alone makes Tim feel unnerved, and as his senses heighten – its only then does he pick up on the faintest smell. What… what is that-?

[“Oh shit- we’ve got to bounce. Now-!”]

[“Agreed. How did you even manage to-?”]

[“Let’s save the questions for when we’re out of the burning warehouse.”]

Tim blinks, eyes blowing wide as he looks away from Duke and focuses back on what’s going on. Using one of his birds, he can see that a warehouse is, in fact, on fire – and it is growing fast. “Steph-”

[“Already made the call, fire department is on the way but- how in the world did you guys even manage to set the whole place on fire?”]

[“Don’t lump me in with this brainless brute-” Damian’s complaint is cut off.]

[“I didn’t even expect the stuff to catch that fast! Just- ugh,” Jason groans, the subtle sound of the warehouse coming apart is just barely audible through the comlink. “Do everyone a favor, and keep those samples away from fire. That shit lights faster than propane.”]

“Even if it spreads quickly, how did the fire get strong that fast?!”

[“Hell if I know! You said this crap is alien, right? How is anyone supposed to figure it’d have so much kick!?”]

“You knew it could set on fire?!”

[“Last I checked, dirt isn’t flammable- of COURSE I DIDN’T KNOW!”]

[“Guys! Just- focus on getting out of there! We can figure out all of this once we regroup. Meet me and Cass at the station. We need to tell Bruce about this.”]

Tim glances at Duke once again, who’s hand twitches slightly, and the watcher grows quiet before looking back at his own sample.

… Could this night get any weirder?

— — — — – – – – – – — – – –

Eventually, towards the heart of the night, Bruce is able to reach the batcave once more, and everyone recounts what they found or learned – minus certain individuals.

The discussion is as chaotic as one would imagine, but the main points get across eventually, albeit between suspicions a few of them had, and more speculation on what could be going on. The biggest question is why this group had chosen Gotham of all places, if they really have been here recently or have been in the city for longer, who Tim and Cass were able to identify as members of the cult, and so on.

Whoever was organizing this was clearly doing something to the people following them. How perfect everything seemed to flow without their presence was uncanny and unnatural, not to mention how readily members have killed themselves without a hint of hesitation. Honestly, it was terrifying – and the fact there was still so much left unknown wasn’t helping. Not knowing who was behind this, or at least in charge of the group in Gotham was setting them back – and the risk of confrontation was too high. There was no telling if they’d dispose of themself just as quickly as the other members of the cult, but that was assuming there even were other leaders in place.

They certainly had their influencers and people who brought in more members into their cult, but for some reasons… most of the vigilantes had a feeling that there wasn’t. That there was just one person in control – the lack of evidence on that end didn’t help, but they sort of just knew. Regardless, it wasn’t enough to fully dismiss anything, even if some of them were pretty set on a couple of things. Duke, Jason, Stephanie, and Cassandra in particular. Bruce was… well, himself, but he seemed to have his mind set as well even if he left the door open for possibilities.

If this was really alien, who knows what they’re dealing with – and if what Clark said earlier was true, then it’s definitely mind altering, at the very least. Though, that did pose another question entirely about you and the cops that came in from Metropolis.

Were any of you under the influence of this… alien substance?

They weren’t given much time to dwell on that as something pops up on the batcomputer – a notification of sorts. “Ah, must be Clark.” Bruce mumbles, already working on displaying and finding out all the information Clark had gathered.

A map of the United States first flashes onto the many screens, before red dots begin to appear on the map. Like little fairy lights, they flicker on, and don’t stop until it looks like the country has got the bad case of chickenpox. Then, it zooms out, showing the whole world map, and more dots appear. They’re sparse in some areas compared to others, but the message is made clear enough.

Yet, before anyone could fully digest even the point Clark was trying to make, the funniest thing happens.

The dots begin to move. They weren’t just markers, they were trackers.

Some move faster than others, all of them blinking for a moment before shifting, showing their movement. There aren’t any labels, but the direction seems to be clear enough. Especially as the map zooms back into the United States, and shows the movement there a little more clearly.

On the East Coast, all of the dots closest to there seem to be moving towards two cities in particular – but before it can be shown where they are clearly moving towards, the power cuts. The batcave is swallowed by darkness, and the vigilante family is left in complete darkness for a few moments. The cave being the most dark any of them have seen it, and the silence near deafening.

It doesn’t take long for the lights to flicker back on, but they have the oddest shade of pink, and as everything powers back on – the ventilation is still paused, and something else has taken place of the map on the batcomputer – it’s taken over every screen even remotely connected to the advanced computer, actually.

A red solar eclipse with a timer right on the bottom, counting down. No explanation, nothing aside from the eclipse and countdown.

There’s no way someone in the cult could’ve got into the system, and especially not tonight when they were all on high alert and keeping an eye on them! It wasn’t possible, the security in the cave and manor would’ve been enough to stop anyone from getting in, or at least notified any of them if someone had gotten in. Hell, Damian’s sense and trigger would have alerted him if anyone had so much as stepped onto the property that wasn’t supposed to be there. There are too many precautions put into place for this to happen – and for the sight to stay on screen as well.

That didn’t leave many possibilities, and it was less about the why and more about how this could even happen. Which, amongst the options to shift through… with the threat they were dealing with here, only one seemed to stick out and seemed the most plausible.

There was a traitor among them.

[bellaxgiornata]

You Are My Sunshine [1]

Pairing: Jax Teller x Fem!Reader Word count: 5.3k [Series Masterlist] [Jax Teller Masterlist]

Summary: Recently released from a stint in Stockton Prison with a few of the Sons, Jax is still struggling with Tara returning to Chicago over a year after he killed Agent Kohn for her. When he returned to Charming, Jax noticed a coffee shop had sprung up across the street from Teller-Morrow Automotive and the clubhouse, oddly finding himself watching the strangely cheerful owner through the windows. One night he feels drawn to step inside, but he's left even more confused when the owner feels like the embodiment of sunshine itself. Jax quickly realizes that the more he visits her shop, the more at peace he finds himself.

Warnings/tags: 18+; sunshine!Reader/grumpy!Jax (somewhat), fluff, angst, friends to lovers, eventual smut, canon divergent, canon typical violence (more tags to possibly come)

a/n: Not everything will be true to canon in this little series, and this first part starts out in Jax's POV. I just couldn't resist the idea of Jax with someone so bright and bubbly bringing some happiness his way. As a note since I'm newer in the SoA fanfic scene, I always do my best to refrain from adding physical descriptions to Readers, but they are still some form of a character personality-wise. Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!

Placing the cigarette between his lips, Jax flipped open his lighter and held the flame up to the tip of it. He was itching for something right now–a smoke, a drink, a fuck, a fight. He couldn’t quite tell the difference anymore. Everything felt the same–a neverending blur. The days had all begun to bleed together ever since he and the guys had been released from Stockton the other month. 

And everything felt the goddamn same as it did before he'd gone in.

Taking a drag on the cigarette, he pocketed the lighter and leant back against the brick of the clubhouse behind him. Laughter and blaring music was pouring out of the building, the noise always far too loud to be contained by the structure. The Sons were partying again tonight, celebrating a successful closure of a deal from earlier in the day. But for some reason Jax hadn’t felt like partying. The air in the clubhouse felt suffocating, which was why he’d stepped outside into the balmy summer night for a cigarette instead.

As a trail of smoke curled its way upwards from between his lips, Jax stared vacantly across the otherwise empty lot, his eyes landing on the line of motorcycles across from him. His mind inevitably wandered back to Tara while he smoked, something it often did ever since she’d reappeared in his life over a year ago just to disappear all over again. Running away. That's what she had always done best.

He hated that he couldn’t get her out of his head even after all this time. But what he hated even more was that part of him still felt like it was holding onto the ridiculous hope that she’d come back to him. That she might wake up one day and return to Charming and somehow just accept him for who he was, who he'd always been. But that was a fucking bullshit hope and he knew it.

Jax’s jaw clenched in irritation, his fingers tightening around his cigarette as he drew it back up to his lips for another sharp inhale. It was impossible not to think that Tara had used him just to get rid of Kohn knowing that he’d be sympathetic to her situation. Knowing damn well that Jax would never have just walked away when she came to him for help. And it pissed him off that she’d played him like that–that he had let her play him like that. Especially when he’d been so fucking vulnerable after Abel had been born with all of his health complications weighing on his mind. 

He had needed her in return, but Tara hadn’t cared about what Jax was going through. She hadn’t cared about the fact that until that moment, Jax had never killed like he'd killed that night  for her. Every time before had always been for the club–for self-defense, retaliation. But that night? That night it had been out of love. It had been because he'd been protecting someone he cared about. And Tara had thrown him away a second time right afterwards, not even bothering to think about how any of it had affected Jax.

Movement across the street caught Jax’s attention, breaking through his spiraling, agitated thoughts. His head turned as he stood in the dimly lit parking lot, pulling the cigarette away from his lips and blowing out a plume of smoke as his eyes landed on you across the street through the large glass windows of your coffee shop. 

Honest Coffee. You’d opened it at some point when he and a few of the Sons had been doing a few months in Stockton, but ever since he’d gotten out, he’d found his gaze drawn across the street to that building more times than he’d ever willingly care to admit. And he wasn’t entirely sure why, either. Jax was not the kind of guy you’d find sitting inside of a coffee shop sipping on some fancy ass, overly sweetened and overpriced bullshit cup of coffee. That wasn’t his thing. So of course he’d never actually ventured inside the shop that had opened up across the street from the clubhouse and Teller-Morrow Automotive.

But for some goddamn reason he couldn’t help but look.

The entire place stood out amongst the old, worn brick buildings beside it. You’d painted the exterior brick white and hung up some bold, black sign with the shop’s name on it above the entrance. There were even a few little tables and chairs on the sidewalk out front along with writing on one of the large glass windows that read ‘Support your local caffeine dealer.’ Which, for some goddamn reason, amused Jax to no end considering your shop was located across the street from actual arms dealers. 

And there were plants. Goddamn, the amount of plants. A few large potted ones sat outside by the front doors, and there were a handful hanging over all of the large open windows. And, from what Jax had been able to see when he’d ridden past the place multiple times, you had plants on the tables inside, too. So many fucking plants it was like you were making coffee in a damn jungle. He didn’t understand why you had so many or how the hell they always looked like they were thriving. He’d often heard Gemma even compliment the goddamn plants the few times she’d stopped over to get herself coffee.

But it wasn’t entirely the plants or what you’d done to the building to make it appear so warm and inviting in downtown Charming that had him constantly staring across the street. It was you, if he was being honest with himself. You were always working there. He’d already come to assume that you were more than just a barista and that you actually owned the coffee shop with how frequently you were there. And you were attractive, that wasn’t even remotely a question. But you were nothing like the women at the clubhouse, or Redwoody, or Diosa. Where most of the women he’d encountered in his life were all rough and hard edges, you always seemed so soft and sweet. Like a warmth just radiated off of you everytime you smiled. 

And you were always fucking smiling over there. Whenever Jax watched you through the windows, whether he was outside having a smoke with the guys or by himself, you were guaranteed to be standing somewhere in that shop talking to someone with a smile on your face. Despite the fact that he didn't understand how one damn person could smile so damn much in a day, he’d sometimes found himself wondering what it would be like to see that smile up close, to have it directed at himself. There was just something about it, even from this distance across the street, that made it look different from any other smile he felt like he’d been given in his life. Like it was real and not covering a hidden agenda. 

Jax took a final drag on his cigarette before tossing it to the ground beside his feet, crushing it out beneath his shoe. His eyes were still on you through those large glass windows as he did. It looked like you were closing up the shop for the day. You were alone inside, the entire place empty as you swept the floor with a broom. But it almost looked like you were dancing as you cleaned, your hips swaying as your lips moved. The corner of Jax’s lips twisted upwards faintly at the sight. Who the hell were you? You were cleaning in an empty shop in downtown Charming, all alone just after sunset, across the street from the disliked and notorious motorcycle club, and you were dancing as you swept?

Who the fuck looked so happy to be cleaning?

Without even thinking, Jax pushed off the wall of the clubhouse and let his feet carry him away from the party raging behind him. An incredulous look was etched across his usually hard features as he began to cross the empty street and make his way towards your coffee shop. Eventually he came to a stop just outside of the front door, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans as he watched the back of you for a minute through the windows. Unquestionably you were inside dancing and sweeping as you listened to–what Jax assumed as he stood just outside–stupid coffee shop music. An amused huff came out of him as he shook his head at the sight.

Not even bothering to check if your shop was closed on the hours listed on the door, Jax slipped a hand out of his pocket and pulled it open. No bell chimed to alert you of his presence, meaning you continued your cleaning and soft singing to yourself with your back facing him, completely unaware you had a customer. A smug smirk tugged at his lips as he sauntered further inside the shop, making his way over to the counter near the register before resting an arm against the white countertop. He leaned his weight against it, crossing his ankles as his head cocked to the side, his blue eyes fixed on you. 

Christ, you looked adorable. Not a thought he often had about women. Usually he went for the ones at the clubhouse barely dressed in much of anything who were always very eager to spend the night with him. Even a few of the girls at Diosa and the pornstars at Redwoody that had sometimes caught his eye would never have been called anything close to ‘adorable’ by Jax. But you just looked so goddamn sweet and you hadn’t even noticed him standing behind you staring.

Clearing his throat, Jax figured he should probably alert you to his presence. He didn’t want to scare you, which he had a feeling might happen if you turned around and spotted someone that looked like him just quietly watching you.

“Don’t think I’ve ever seen someone look so damn happy sweeping a floor before,” Jax called out.

The way you startled at his voice, spinning around abruptly with a soft, surprised gasp while throwing a hand over your heart, had a pleased grin growing on Jax’s face. You looked so surprised with your wide eyes and parted lips. He almost wanted to laugh, but instead he bit his bottom lip and held the sound back. 

“Relax, darlin’. I’m not here to rob your coffee shop,” he teased.

Almost immediately your expression shifted, the look of surprise disappearing and being replaced with a friendly smile that lit up your entire face. The sight of it did something to Jax, taking him by surprise. Because it was nighttime, you were alone in your shop, and here Jax had stood unannounced behind you, and yet your reaction was to just smile at him like he was some old friend you’d been expecting to see?

A soft laugh fell from your lips as Jax watched you turn around towards him, leaning some of your weight against the broom handle in your hands while your eyes took in the sight of him. He noticed the way you'd briefly scanned his kutte, but that kind smile remained stretched across your pretty mouth when your gaze once more met his.

“I wasn't thinking you were going to, you just startled me,” you answered. “You're extremely quiet on your feet, you know.”

Jax chuckled at the comment, his grin growing a little more amused. If only you knew the half of it.

“I may have been told that a time or two,” he replied, his eyes still taking you in without a hint of subtlety.

“Well,” you began, a playful lilt to your tone, completely unbothered by his gaze, “you know what they say about strange men showing up unannounced after closing, don’t you?”

Completely thrown by the unexpected teasing question coming from someone who looked as sweet as you, Jax couldn’t fight back the small chuckle that managed to fall out of him. “No, darlin’, I don’t. What do they say?” he asked.

Your perceptive eyes, which were still lit from the warmth of your smile, watched the way Jax continued to lean so casually against the countertop. You didn't appear even remotely fazed by his presence here and he found that so incredibly odd. 

“That they want a coffee,” you answered matter-of-factly.

Jax raised a brow curiously at your response, your smile somehow widening even further on your lips. You were not what he'd expected–and he'd already expected you to be something sweet and nice. But it was almost like you were more than even just that. It felt like the goddamn sun was shining on him when you smiled at him, and he didn't know what to make of it. No one in Charming that was an outsider to the club was this kind and friendly to its members. Most of the town had a healthy fear and a good amount of disdain at this point for the Sons.

But not you, apparently.

“Thought you were closing?” Jax asked, shaking the thoughts from his mind as he eyed you curiously. 

You laughed lightly yet again, turning and resting the broom against the shop’s counter now. “Didn't stop you from sneaking in, friend.” You glanced over your shoulder at him, completely genuine in your question as you asked, “So, would you like a coffee?”

An amused noise of disbelief rumbled out of Jax. You spoke to him as if he was any other goddamn customer coming into your shop. He'd never been treated so normal before. 

“Guess if you're offering, sweetheart, then yes,” he finally answered. Jax moved over, lowering himself into one of the chairs at the small counter as he watched you make your way around it. “Though I can't say I'd normally be caught dead ordering anything from a coffee shop.”

Coming to a stop in front of him just on the other side of the counter, your head tilted curiously to the side as you studied him closely. Jax stiffened under the weight of your gaze. It almost felt like you were seeing right through him with the way your eyes ran over his face so carefully. As if you were really taking him in. He wondered what you saw when you looked at him, but then that damn sweet smile was plastered across your lips again before you were speaking.

“Then I'm honored to be the first. And,” you continued, the sound of your voice somehow temporarily soothing that constant burning rage inside of Jax, “I'll even make it on the house. Free of charge this time.”

Jax blinked back at you, stunned into silence for a moment. But then he shook his head, waving a hand at you. “Not gonna let you do that, darlin’. I can pay for a coffee.”

“Didn't say you couldn't, I'm just trying to spread some kindness. Looks you've had a rough day,” you replied, a softness in your voice that wasn't there a moment ago. But then the bright, playfulness was back as you pointed a finger at him. “You look like a regular coffee kind of guy. No creamer, bit of sugar. Am I right?” 

“I…yeah,” Jax answered, a little taken aback at how quickly you'd read him and how easily you spoke to him. “Yeah, I am.”

“There's sweetener on that counter behind you,” you said, gesturing at something behind Jax before you turned around.

He glanced briefly over his shoulder at what you’d pointed out before he focused back on you. Watching in silence, his eyes remained on the back of you as you started on his cup of coffee, but his brows soon furrowed as he watched you work. He'd never seen someone make coffee the way you were doing now. What in the hell were you doing?

“Don't you just...have a machine, sweetheart?” Jax asked slowly.

A soft laugh came from you as you worked, your back to him as you answered. “Pour over is better than drip. I promise.” Glancing over your shoulder, you smiled at him once more. “Just trust me.”

Still baffled and confused as to what in the hell you were doing, he couldn't help but to keep watching you in silence, completely confused as to how in the hell you were making him what should be just a simple cup of coffee. He really never had stepped foot into a coffee shop before–a big chain one or a locally owned place. He didn’t even know why he’d crossed the street and come over here in the first place, especially with the party going on at the clubhouse where he was supposed to be. 

Lost in his thoughts, Jax’s eyes inevitably dropped down to your ass, taking in the shape of it in your jeans. His head tilted appreciatively to the side as his attention focused on that instead of trying to understand the strange pull he'd felt to step inside your shop once and for all tonight. His tongue slipped out, running along the length of his bottom lip as he took in the unobstructed view before him. You filled your jeans out damn good.

“So you got a name, friend?” you asked, your voice breaking through his thoughts. “Or am I just supposed to keep calling you ‘friend’?”

Jax found himself mentally chastising himself at your interruption, his eyes moving back to yours as you turned around, leaning your back against the counter behind you. There was a sincere expression on your face, like you actually cared to know who he was, and that had him feeling guilty for the way he'd just been looking at you. You weren't like the girls he surrounded himself with, you were actually good. He shouldn't be eyeing you like that. There was no way in hell you'd ever be interested in a man like him, and you definitely didn't look like the one-and-done kind of girl.

“It's Jax,” he answered. “Jax Teller. You got a name, darlin’?”

A small smile curled the corners of his lips upwards when you gave him your name so easily. He had a feeling this was one of the rare times he wouldn't just immediately forget a woman's name after she'd given it to him. 

“You always this cheerful, darlin’?” he asked next, unable to resist the question that had been gradually growing in his mind the longer he sat here. “Or is this some professional, friendly barista persona that you throw on when you're here at work?”

Jax watched as you turned around to the back counter against the tiled wall again, picking up the strange glass container you'd just made the coffee in before pouring it into a to-go cup for him. You were quiet as you worked before turning around and crossing the space over to where Jax was sitting. Reaching a hand out, Jax accepted the coffee from yours, but when his rough fingers brushed against your soft ones, he felt the corners of his lips twitch.

“Owner,” you said softly, your hands resting on the countertop. “Not a barista. And it's not a persona I throw on for work, this is just me.”

Jax’s brows drew together at that as he got off his chair and made his way over to the counter by the entrance to add in some sweetener to the coffee. How the hell was anyone just that friendly and cheerful naturally? Without it being a front? But as he stirred his coffee, wandering back over to the counter and taking his seat again, he noticed that you looked sincere.

“How the hell are you this friendly to everyone?” he asked, sitting back down in the chair at the counter, his coffee momentarily forgotten.

“Because I like being nice,” you simply replied.

Jax made a face at that answer. Who the fuck liked being nice all of the time? That had to be bullshit. There had to be people you didn't like, people that you weren't quite so kind towards. People like him who definitely didn't deserve an ounce of kindness.

“Bullshit,” Jax argued, eyes narrowing at you in suspicion. “There's gotta be rude customers you aren't such a ray of sunshine towards, right? Bad people you don't want in here?”

He watched as your fingers lightly drummed against the countertop, your smile smaller but not gone from your lips. Almost like it was just a permanent fixture on your face.

“I believe everyone deserves some kindness,” you answered genuinely after a moment, holding Jax’s gaze. “Because you never know the weight of what someone is carrying on their shoulders. And sometimes, all someone needs is a kind word or a smile in their day.”

Jax just sat there in silence for a moment, staring at you like you'd just said the most absolutely ridiculous thing. And honestly, he felt like you had. You looked so naive and innocent standing there behind your counter full of those goddamn plants you appeared to love so much.

“You realize who I am, right?” 

The question had slipped out of Jax without much forethought, but he was curious now. Were you somehow that oblivious as to who your shop was across the street from? Was that why you were being so friendly to him?

“Yeah,” you answered with a nod, your eyes focusing behind Jax at the clubhouse through the window for a second before returning to him. “I've seen a lot of you with those…vests? Over there across the street.”

Jax couldn’t stop the chuckle that rumbled out of him. Vests. That was cute. Jesus, you really weren't part of his world at all, were you? You probably had no damn idea about the pistol in his “vest.”

“Kuttes, darlin’. They're called kuttes,” he told you as he drew his cup towards his mouth while he spoke. “They're a bit different and more important than just some vest.”

Jax took a sip of the hot coffee, entirely planning to continue his explanation about how wrong you were about the kuttes, but he was taken off guard by the drink. He hadn't expected it to taste as good as it did. He'd drank coffee before–a shitload of it most days because Jax was no stranger to sleepless nights even before Abel came into the picture–but this didn't taste like the acidic, burnt trash that he'd grown used to masking with sugar.

The sound of your delighted laugh drew his gaze back up to your face. A bright, amused smile was shining back at him. The sight momentarily had Jax forgetting about everything–the coffee, the kuttes, his anger at Tara, the clubhouse party he should be getting back to. All he could do was stare at you, taking in the sight of your smile and the way it felt like it had somehow warmed him more than that hot coffee ever could.

“Is it good?” you asked, gesturing your head towards the cup in his hand. “The coffee?”

Blinking a couple of times, Jax looked back down at the paper cup warming his hand, attempting to return to his senses. “Yeah,” he answered. Roughly clearing his throat, he snapped out of whatever it was that your smile had just done to him. “How the hell do you get your coffee to taste so damn good?”

A pleased smile spread its way across your face when Jax looked back at you. He liked the way a glimmer of something–pride, maybe–reflected back at him in your eyes.

“All about the roast and the extraction, Jax,” you replied. “Fresh, good quality beans that have just been ground make a world of difference. But I'm glad you like it. I've always said a great cup of coffee can help make a bad day better.”

Jax chuckled again, shaking off that weird sensation from a moment ago and drawing the cup up to his lips for another drink of the hot liquid. Goddamn, is this why people paid more instead of just making it their damn selves? Did it actually taste that much better from a coffee shop? 

“Maybe for some people,” Jax mused as he lowered the cup, his eyes fixed on you behind the counter. “But I don't think a cup of coffee is gonna do a damn thing to fix my problems, darlin’.”

Unfazed by his attitude, you simply shrugged a shoulder in response. “You never know, maybe you just haven't had the right cup of coffee yet.”

A smirk tugged at the corner of Jax's mouth. You were adorable. Naive, but adorable.

“I don't think coffee is the solution to anything other than how damn tired I am,” he disagreed.

Loud shouting from across the street caught both of your attention from the shop, the noise interrupting the conversation. Jax noticed the way your eyes darted to the window almost instantly before he sighed and looked over his shoulder behind him. A handful of the guys were outside drunk and having a smoke in the clubhouse lot, a few of the hangarounds clinging to them in their short shorts and crop tops. The sight of them out there was sobering. He knew he should get back to the clubhouse, especially now with how he was beginning to feel a little guilty that he'd interrupted you trying to close your shop.

Turning around in his chair, Jax entirely expected to see some sort of judgmental look on your face at the Sons and the croweaters across the street. It was how everyone outside of the club looked at them. But there was only a hint of genuine curiosity before your gaze shifted back to him in front of you. His brows furrowed faintly together at that, but he quickly pushed the growing questions away. It didn't matter. 

“I should get back over there,” Jax told you. “Make sure those shitheads don't cause too much trouble. And I should let you finish closing up.”

He rose from the chair at the counter, his lips straightening along his face as he got to his feet with his coffee in hand. For some reason, he found he didn't really want to go back over to the clubhouse, though. Whatever frustration he'd been feeling before he had walked over here tonight had somehow just vanished within the short time he'd spent sitting here talking to you. Something no amount of drinking, fucking, or riding his bike had even managed.

“You're right, it's well past close for me now,” you admitted, glancing at the clock on the wall behind yourself.

Another pang of guilt flooded Jax at your words. It was completely his fault that you were here so late now because he had stupidly walked in here for…he didn't even know what. Except that smile returned to your face again almost immediately, as if you weren't even upset that he had interrupted your night. 

“I'm curious about something, sweetheart,” Jax found himself saying, his eyes narrowing at you as he spoke. “Would you have kicked me out at some point tonight, or are you too nice for that, too?”

Another small, casual shrug came in response to the question. “Eventually, yes,” you answered. “I do need to eventually go home and sleep before coming back here tomorrow morning.” You paused, that look on your face like you were seeing straight through him briefly returning before you continued. “But you looked like you needed…something. Figured a coffee wouldn't hurt, at least.”

Jax stood there staring at you, just taking in what you had said and that warm, friendly smile. It didn't make sense–you didn't make sense. And he wasn't sure how he felt about the way you seemed to actually see him. It was unsettling.

“You're an odd one, sunshine,” he murmured. 

Almost instantly, a delighted laugh met Jax’s ears as he took another sip of his coffee. As he swallowed the drink down, his own lips couldn't keep from drawing themselves upwards at the sound. 

“Sunshine?” you asked, both of your brows raising back at him.

Bottom lip rolling between his teeth, Jax bit back the grin threatening to spread across his face as he nodded slowly. “Yeah. Sunshine,” he repeated. “Suits you. You're so goddamn friendly and nice.”

“Well that's a new one for me,” you told him.

There was something different about the smile on your face now, but Jax couldn't quite place what it was. He'd never had a woman smile at him like that before. Not even Tara.

The thought of Tara was like a kick to the chest, a jolt of pain shooting through Jax. His expression abruptly fell, aware that all the usual thoughts he'd had about her after she had left him a second time were going to come back and hit him hard the second he walked out of your shop. 

“Right. I should let you close,” he replied tersely. 

Giving you a nod in goodbye, Jax's mouth felt dry as he turned around towards the exit. A confusing mix of thoughts were swirling in his mind now.

“Goodnight, Jax,” you called out behind him.

The sweet, soft tone gave him pause as he rested one hand on the door handle. His blonde brows drew together, jaw clenching tight as that familiar rage and darkness inside of him felt like it was clawing its way up his chest, threatening to spill out of him in the form of some rude comment that would knock that friendly smile off your face. He didn't deserve you treating him like this. He was a terrible person. He knew he could prove it to you with just a few simple words, but before he could open his mouth, you spoke again.

“Feel free to stop in again sometime,” you told him. “You're welcome here anytime just like anyone else, Sons’ President or not.” A soft noise almost like a little laugh came next before you added on, “Preferably when I'm open, though.”

His body went rigid at that pleasant, melodic little laugh of yours. Slowly, Jax turned to look over his shoulder at you still standing behind the counter. You were indeed over there smiling, but the urge to be an asshole just to show you what kind of man he really was–that he shouldn't be treated like everyone else–disappeared almost immediately at the sight of it. How the hell did you keep doing that? Keep disarming him so easily with just a goddamn smile?

“I'll keep that in mind,” he muttered.

Without giving you a chance to say more, confused as to the weird effect you seemed to have on him, he pushed the door open and stepped back out into the summer evening. The noise from the clubhouse across the street carried its way to Jax’s ears as he began to make his way back over to where the Sons were smoking in the parking lot. He took another drink of his coffee as he went, his thoughts briefly straying to you and that entire strange encounter he'd just had.

There was just something about you that was so damn unfamiliar to Jax. You were all light and warmth, like the embodiment of sunshine itself. Nothing like anyone he'd ever met before in his life and it intrigued him as much as it bothered him. For weeks he had been watching you through your shop window wondering what it would be like to have you smile at him like he'd often seen you smile at all of your other customers, and now he knew. It felt like the summer sun finally rising to start the day after a long, dark night. And Jax found himself oddly craving more of your warmth, suddenly not giving a shit if he got burned in the process.

[rhiannonsknife]

— BUT I’M A CHEERLEADER (part 4)

— summary: the party at lottie’s & its aftermath.

— warnings: friends to lovers. lots of fluff. the highly anticipated nsfw content. mdni. (this takes place in their last year of school. all characters in this are 18+!!)

the ‘post game hangout’ at lottie’s is in full swing by the time you and nat arrive in her car.

you half expect it to be a repeat of cheer squad gatherings: loud music, sharp glances, and judgment lurking behind every corner. but as soon as you step into lottie’s house -a massive place, bigger than any party you’ve been to before- it becomes clear this is a completely different world from what you’re used to.

it’s also much more of a party than just a ‘hangout’, but neither of you minds.

“lottie really knows how to throw a party, huh?” you say, glancing around. nat grins, giving you a playful side-eye. “she’s got the biggest house, so she kinda has to,”

the sound of music and muffled laughter spills from inside as you approach, punctuated by the occasional cheer or shout from someone already a few drinks deep.

“we don’t do small, cheerleader!”

“i can see that,” your eyes sweep over the pristine lawn and the line of cars already parked in the long driveway. nat gestures towards the door. “ready?”

you nod, even though you can feel the nerves bubbling up inside you. it’s not the party itself that unsettles you, it’s the fact that you’re walking in with nat. for all the teasing from the yellowjackets earlier, the lines between what you feel and what you’re allowed to feel still seem blurry and fragile.

the inside of lottie’s house is just as impressive as the exterior already gave away: the foyer opens into a sprawling living room that’s packed with people lingering in groups, red plastic cups in hand, the atmosphere buzzing.

nat nudges you with her elbow while you’re still busy taking it all in. “come on,” she says. “let’s find the others!”

just like that, you let her lead you through the crowd. there’s no weight of curious stares and whispered commentary you expected and nobody minds as you two make your way through the living room. when you finally reach the kitchen, it’s no surprise to see van perched on the kitchen island, a bottle of something strong-looking in her hand, while taissa leans against the counter next to where van’s legs are dangling, caught up in a conversation with jackie.

“hey, look who decided to show up!” van calls out, waving at you both.

nat rolls her eyes. “you just saw us on the field an hour ago,”

“yeah, but this is different,” she teases, hopping down from the counter to greet you. “field nat is all serious and intense. party nat’s a lot more fun. and hey-“ she leans in conspiratorially toward you “she’s even more fun when you’re around!”

nat shakes her head, but you can see the faintest hint of color creeping up her neck. “i’m grabbing drinks!” she announces to the group, shooting you a quick glance before disappearing toward the living room.

you’re left standing awkwardly near the doorway until jackie waves you over to join them. “c’mon, don’t just stand there!”

you hesitate but ultimately follow her lead, perching on the edge of the counter while van leans in, her grin mischievous.

“sooo…” she begins, drawing out the word. “how long’s this been a thing?”

you blink, caught off guard. “what?”

“when did you and nat figure this thing out?” taissa chimes in.

“i don’t- there’s no- what thing?”

jackie gives a soft laugh. “come on, don’t play dumb! nat’s been acting like a completely different person lately. more focused, less grumpy. it’s cute, really!”

tai leans in, her voice low but teasing. “it’s pretty obvious. she’s been head over heels for you since, what? the arcade?”

your cheeks heat as you stammer, “we’re not- she hasn’t- there’s nothing going on!”

jackie exchanges a knowing look with the two. “if you say so,” she mumbles teasingly over the edge of her cup.

van, on the other hand, doesn’t let up. “c’mon, it’s fine! we’re just saying it’s nice to see her like this! she’s, i dunno… softer? it’s not a bad thing!”

you laugh awkwardly, unsure how to respond. before you get the chance to tell them that there really isn’t anything going on, nat returns, drinks in hand. the others exchange more looks as she strides over.

“there we go,” she says, handing you a cup, her fingers brushing yours briefly in the process. even as you take it from her, your mind is still reeling from what van, jackie and taissa just said. nat, head over heels for you?

“so,” she asks. “what did i miss? what are you guys talking about?”

“nothing,” van says innocently, her grin suggesting otherwise.

“right…” nat says, slowly lifting her cup to her lips.

the conversation shifts after that, the others diving into lighthearted banter about the game, but your mind lingers on what they said.

you glance down at nat once, catching her watching you out of the corner of her eye. she quickly looks away, taking a sip from her drink, but the small, almost shy smile that follows makes your pulse quicken.

all throughout the conversation, you’re hyper-aware of nat’s presence below you, standing close enough to where you’re perched upon the kitchen counter for you to smell the faint scent of her cologne and feel the warmth that radiates off her even though she’s not quite touching you.

the others are deep in their talk, laughing about some ridiculous inside joke that you don’t quite understand but can’t help smiling at. you feel lighter than you have in weeks, lighter than you ever did amongst the cheerleaders, like you’re finally where you belong.

still, your gaze keeps drifting back to nat, the reason why you’re here to begin with, why you get to belong like that.

it’s the shift of the music in the background, a louder, more fast paced song, snaps you out of your thoughts. a few people filter onto the makeshift dance floor that lottie has cleared in the living room, swaying awkwardly at first before finding a rhythm as a larger group gathers.

you glance back at nat as an idea begins to take shape.

“do you wanna dance?” you ask, your voice quieter than you intended but still enough to catch only her attention. nat freezes mid-sip, her eyes widening slightly as she looks at you like you’ve just suggested something completely outrageous. “dance?”

your nod, grinning despite the nerves. “yeah, you know…where you move around to music. it’s kind of a thing people do at parties?”

her lips twitch into a smirk and she sets her drink down on the counter. “i know what dancing is, smartass. i just don’t…do it!”

“why not? scared you’ll look stupid?”

she scoffs, crossing her arms. “i don’t look stupid. just don’t like it. it’s not my thing,”

“come on!” you plead, now drawing the attention of the others as well. “just one dance! for fun? for me!”

for a moment, nat looks like she’s about to argue again, her brow furrowing as if she’s searching for an excuse. but then her eyes meet yours, and whatever she sees there makes her hesitate.

“show us how it’s done scatorccio!” van interrupts her train of thought, already urging her forward.

“fine,” nat mutters, pushing herself away from the counter, then waiting for you to hop off after. “but, i swear to god, if i step on your toes, it’s on you!”

you laugh, grabbing her hand before she can change her mind. “deal,”

you don’t need to turn your head to feel the eyes of all three girls on you as you make your way across the room.

leading her to the dance floor, you notice the way her hand lingers in yours, her grip firm, like she’s still not sure what to do with herself. the two of you find a spot near the edge, the lights dim and the music low, and you turn to face her with a grin.

“see? not so bad, right?”

“you haven’t even started yet!”

you turn so your back is to her front, already swaying to the rhythm of the song. nat hesitates for a beat before resting her hands awkwardly on your waist. it’s stiff and a little awkward at first, but the warmth of her touch sends a pleasant shiver through your body.

“relax,” you tease, moving against her. “you’re not being graded on this!”

she huffs out a laugh, her shoulders loosening just a bit. “easy for you to say. you’re probably great at this! you’re a cheerleader!”

the two of you settle into an easy rhythm, and while nat is still clearly out of her comfort zone, she starts to relax, her movements becoming less stilted. you can still feel the eyes of her teammates watching from the kitchen, but for once, you don’t care who sees. it’s just you and nat.

at one point, she leans in just a little closer. her voice is low and her fingers hook around the belt loops of your jeans as she murmurs, “this isn’t terrible,”

you laugh, your heart skipping at the new proximity. “told you so!”

the music flows seamlessly from one track to the next yet nat doesn’t leave the dance floor after the first song like you half expected her to. instead, she stays, her presence warm behind you, her fingers gentle on your waist.

even as the upbeat tempo shifts to something a little slower, you’re quick to tug her hand, keeping her on the floor so she won’t flee from you.

“not letting me off that easy, are you?”

instead of replying, nat spins you gently, making you laugh as you end up face to face, more suited for a slow dance like this. instinctively, you drape your arms over her shoulders and lace your fingers behind her back.

nat’s body seems much more relaxed now, her grip on your waist softer, her movements less self-conscious. you’re still swaying together, but there’s something gentler about it now, something intimate, with the soft glow of the lights playing across her features.

at this point, you’re hyper-aware of her hands on you and how close she’s standing. so close her hair brushes your cheek when she tilts her head, so close you can feel the shudder in her breath, sending a shiver down your spine that you hope she doesn’t notice.

“you’re getting the hang of it,” you mumble.

“don’t push it. this is already way more than just one dance,”

“it’s called making up for lost time,” you counter. “you’re doing great!”

nat snorts, shaking her head. “dont lie! i’m terrible at this!”

without hesitation, you tighten your grip on the back of her neck, pulling her gaze back to yours. “nat,” you say softly, catching her attention. “nat, seriously, you’re really not,” you insist, meeting her eyes.

the room seems to shrink as the two of you sway to the slower rhythm. the din of conversation and laughter fades into the background, leaving just the soft hum of music and the warmth of her presence in front of you. you glance up at her through your lashes, heart racing at how close she is. her gaze flickers down to meet your eyes, then drops lower, to your mouth, and for a moment, the world feels like it tilts on its axis.

the song begins to fade, and before either of you can move, someone takes over the stereo. the slow melody is abruptly replaced by an upbeat, fast-paced track that jolts you back to reality.

nat groans dramatically, stepping back with a shake of her head. “that’s my cue to get off this death trap!”

you laugh, reluctantly letting her slip away. if it wasn’t already, the party is in full swing now, with people around you shouting and singing along to the lyrics.

you follow nat, intending to tease her about her endurance, but something else catches your eye as she brushes her hand over her face: the faint smudge of black along her lower lash line, where the eyeliner she always wears has started to smear.

“wait,” you stop her just before she reaches the comfort of the kitchen the other yellowjackets seem to have claimed. “your eyeliner’s all smudged!”

“what?” nat frowns, her hand flying up to touch her cheekbone, wiping at her eye in an attempt to fix it. “are you serious?”

“stop,” you chuckle, reaching out to still her hand. “you’re only gonna make it worse! come on!”

“i can do it myself,” she protests, though she doesn’t pull away.

you tug her down the hallway, weaving through the crowd toward where you assume the bathroom is. even though she grumbles something under her breath about not caring how she looks, she doesn’t let go of your hand.

you close the door behind you, and nat stands just inside, her posture uncertain. 

“sit,” you order, pointing to the closed toilet seat. “i’ll take care of it.”

she blinks before sitting down, knees pressed together, her hands resting awkwardly in her lap.

nat watches you, tracing every movement you make as you open your purse and pull out the small makeup bag. “do you really carry all that around with you?” she asks, her gaze meeting yours in the reflection of your mirror.

“hey! it’s for emergency touch-ups! comes in handy now, doesn’t it?” you laugh. “i could also leave you to look like a raccoon, if you want?”

nat huffs, shaking her head. “fine, fine. just get it over with.”

you turn around and step in, your knees brushing lightly against her legs. carefully, you move your fingers, steadying the eyeliner pencil.

“don’t make it weird,” she mutters.

you lift her chin gently to get a better angle, brushing her cheek with the pads of your fingers. “i’m not, i promise,”

nat doesn’t flinch when you trace her waterline, her eyes looking up as she stays still, her breath catching just a little as you work. there’s an undeniable pull now, an electric charge that shoots up your spine every time you glance at her.

you try to focus on the task, try to steady your hands, but it’s hard to concentrate when nat is so close. your heart beats louder than the soft scratch of the pencil on her skin.

“almost done,” you murmur.

when you finish, you lower the pencil and meet her touched-up eyes. they're wide as they turn to meet yours, her lips slightly parted. you don’t step back like you probably should. you don’t even remove your hands from her cheeks, where they still sit firmly.

there’s only the two of you and that undeniable pull. you’ve tried pushing it away, you’ve tried ignoring it. you’re tired of pretending like it’s not there.

you inhale deeply, your fingers tightening on her face and nat’s eyes fall to your lips. this time, it’s not a stolen glance either. it’s there, right in front of you, with neither of you bothering to hide it.

you’re about to close the space between you, when the door suddenly bursts open with a loud bang.

“guys!” van’s voice bursts through, full of energy and excitement. “you’re not gonna believe this, but-“ she stops mid-sentence when she sees you two, the scene frozen in place. for a beat, all three of you stand there, the room suddenly feeling much too small. van blinks a couple of times, clearly processing the intimate scene she’s interrupted, then grins from ear to ear.

“randy lost a bet and is jumping in the pool fully clothed!“ she announces. “but i guess you guys are…busy in there. i’ll leave you to it”

she’s already turning on her heel again, clearly not wanting to miss out on it. “remember to use protection kids!” she calls as she rushes down the hall. “don’t want any surprise bets on the way!”

you pull away just slightly, your heart still thudding loudly in your chest.

“uh, yeah,” nat says, clearing her throat, the moment slipping away from you. “we’ll be out in a minute!”

the second the door clicks shut, you and nat both exhale, as if you’d been holding your breath this entire time.

“i-“ nat starts but, for once, she doesn’t seem to know what to say.

“uh- i guess we should-“ you gesture over to where van had gone.

“yeah. yeah, definitely.”

you both stand in silence for another moment. for one last second, you think she might reach for you again. but she doesn’t. instead, nat takes a step back toward the door.

“wouldn’t want to miss out on that,” she says with a slight, uncertain grin, trying to shake off the awkwardness.

randy, true to his words, does make the fully-dressed dive into lottie’s pool, which earns him laughter and applause from the spectators surrounding the scene. the water splashes high as he emerges, dripping wet and grinning like a madman.

you don't catch half of it, too preoccupied with watching nat from across the yard, laughing with the rest of her teammates. you should have kissed that smiling mouth when you had the chance.

by the time the party begins to wind down hours later, only a few yellowjackets remain. the energy in the living room is mellowed but still full of warmth. van and taissa are the last women standing, still swaying to the beat of some toto song that's playing from the stereo. on the couch, shauna and jackie are curled up together, their heads close, their low murmurs barely audible over the fading music.

you stand near nat, a comfortable silence between you two as you observe the scene.

“guess it’s time to go,” nat says quietly, fiddling with the carabiner on her jeans as she searches for her keys. “lottie!” she calls, catching her attention from where she's chatting with laura lee -the only one of the group who’s still completely sober.

nat untangles the keys and holds them up. “i’ll leave the car here for the night, alright? just move it if it’s in the way!” she explains, setting them down on the table.

“you two heading out?”

“yeah, just walking home,” you tell lottie, nudging nat with your elbow.

“alright,” she hums, waving goodbye. “good night,”

“night!” you both call out to the group before turning to leave.

the cool night air is refreshing after hours in the suffocating warmth of lottie’s place and the streets seem quieter, the house fading in the distance as you walk side by side.

her hand brushes against yours every now and then, but neither of you makes a move just yet. the streetlights flicker above, casting soft golden light on the pavement ahead. you don’t speak right away, both of you settling into a comfortable silence as you walk.

the distance to your house is surprisingly short, but every step feels like it lasts a little longer than it should, like neither of you is ready for the night to end. it’s strange how just walking with nat feels like it could stretch into infinity, and you’d be content with that.

when you do reach the front porch, you stop, hand resting on the railing. nat lingers at the bottom of the stairs behind you, her own hands shoved in her pockets, not in any hurry to leave. you turn to face her, your pulse quickening in the stillness of the night.

finally, you find your voice: “thanks for tonight, nat,” you say. “i…i had a great time!”

for a beat you stand there, frozen in place, wondering if there’s more you’re supposed to say. your eyes meet hers again. you could say goodbye. you could walk inside, end the night, and pretend like there’s nothing more to it. but the moment feels too big, too full of things unsaid for you to walk away from it.

you turn fully to face her, your heart racing just a little. before you can second-guess yourself, you stumble down the stairs and grab the collar of her jacket. nat doesn’t have time to react, her eyes widening just as you pull her toward you, and in one swift motion, you press your lips to hers like you’ve been dying to all night.

everything pauses. the kiss is unexpected, quick, and electric. a mix of everything unspoken between you two. all the tension that’s built up over the weeks, all the doubts and fears, dissolve in that single, raw moment. nat’s body goes still, as if neither of you can quite process what’s happening.

then, almost as if waking up, she finally responds, her hands gently cupping your face. her lips move against yours with a softness that you hadn’t expected from nat: she’s slow at first, cautious as if she’s waiting for you to change your mind. but you pull her in closer, deepening the kiss without thinking.

the moment shatters only when you hear the faint sound of a car driving by down the street. you both jump apart then, but not far enough to break the connection. breath comes a little quicker now as you stand there on the porch, eyes locked, saying nothing.

the car drives by, leaving you invisible in the shadows of your house.

a beat.

you don't even register jumping back into motion, but suddenly, you're both stumbling back toward the door, lips locked again, hands moving instinctively, pulling each other closer. your heart beats faster with every step, every touch. you can't get enough of her.

you reach the lock, fingers fumbling with the key for a moment before it finally turns, letting you slip inside. the door closes quietly behind you, carefully pulled to avoid a sound. inside, it is quiet and dark, the house hiding you as you stand there, just breathing. nat’s forehead rests against yours, both of you too lost in the moment to speak, but the tension is still there, palpable.

nat breaks the silence first, her voice low, barely a whisper. "are we...doing this?"

you smile, your thumb brushing across her jaw as you pull her back into another kiss, slow and deliberate, like you're both savoring every second of it. you don't pull away at all this time. instead, you guide her to your room, the distance from the door to your bed feeling like miles.

you stumble against furniture and walls on the way there, giggling into each other’s mouths as you try to find your way.

when you finally make it to your room, you're both panting heavily, your hands still holding onto each other as if afraid one of you will slip away if you let go.

all the past weeks have come down to this.

nat leans down to kiss you again, even slower this time, her hands coming to rest on your waist, her fingers warm through the fabric of your clothes. you press yourself against her, and the kiss deepens, more urgent now, as though you both can't help yourselves anymore.

“we have-“ you murmur against her lips between kisses. “-to be quiet!”

nat smiles softly, nodding, her mouth brushing against your ear as she murmurs, "i think we can manage,”

you grin in relief. carefully, you make your way to the bed. the only sound is the soft rustle of clothes being discarded, and then the warmth of her hands against your skin, sending shivers down your spine.

“i’ve never-“ you begin as you toss nat’s leather jacket over your chair. your teeth dig into your lower lip nervously, both because you’re admitting this to her and because you know what’s still to come.

“hey,” nat nudges your chin so you’re looking back up at her. her hands reach for your cheeks, the cold metal of her rings pressing against your skin. “it’s okay. you’re okay”

you nod on a shaky exhale and nat’s smile softens, mirroring your expression.

“we don’t have to-” she starts, but you're already cutting her off.

“no!” the word comes out too eager, too rushed, and you feel your face heat. “no. i want to!”

no matter how appreciative you are of her patience and assurance, you do feel ready. you had been the minute she’d first kissed you under the porch light (perhaps even long before that), when her chapped lips started moving against yours slowly.

nat nods once, her tongue darting out to wet her lips, and your eyes fall to her mouth, helplessly transfixed. “okay” she says quietly. “okay...”

she's on you in seconds, her lips capturing yours again, her weight pressing against you until your back hits the mattress.

your arms wrap around her shoulders, pulling her impossibly closer, and she hums into your mouth, the sound vibrating against your lips. nat’s fingers skim your sides, slipping beneath the hem of your shirt, her nails dragging lightly over your skin. goosebumps rise in their wake, and you shiver involuntarily when her rings brush your bare side.

nat pulls back, her lips grazing yours as she grins. “cold?”

“a little,” you admit, breathlessly.

nat's teasing smirk only grows as she sits back on her knees, perched over your legs. her hand rests flat against your lower abdomen, just above where your shirt has ridden up, while the other ghosts over your ribs.

you reach for the one pressing against you, your thumbs circling her wrist to pull it in. you hold her hand up between you, examining the metal bands on each finger for a brief moment before leaning forward. one by one, you kiss the tips of her fingers, your lips hovering over the cool metal as you move lower.

above you, nat sucks in a sharp breath.

you glance up, and her wide, surprised eyes meet yours.

your finger brushes over her knuckles as you tug one ring free, then another. nat’s gaze follows every movement, and when you press another gentle kiss to her now-bare fingers, a tremor runs through her. you set the rings down on your bedside table and turn back up to look at nat.

the tension between you hums like a live wire, but it's not overwhelming. it's something else entirely, something that feels right.

nat swallows hard, her lips twitching upward. “better?” she asks.

“yeah,” you rasp. “way better.”

you sit up to meet her halfway this time, giving her room to peel your shirt off and toss it aside. it lands on the floor by the side of your bed softly, leaving you in a plain black bra. still, her eyes rake over your chest both hungrily and with an adoration that’s softer than anything you’ve ever seen playing out on nat’s features.

“you’re so-“ she says, her fingers twitching like she’s resisting the urge to reach out. once again, you take nat’s hand in yours and guide it to cup your breast. you both exhale simultaneously, adjusting to the new sensation. she must feel your hardened nipples through the fabric, judging by the way her gaze drops and she bites her lip.

experimentally, nat’s thumb flicks the pebbled nipple, instantly drawing a shuddered moan from you.

“nat, off,” you manage, head lulling back already.

thankfully, she complies: nat reaches around your back and smoothly unhooks the clasps. while holding the eye contact, she pulls the fabric off, exposing your bare chest to the chilly night air. she discards it carefully, letting it join the growing pile of clothes on the floor.

“you too!” you urge, fingers impatiently reaching for nat’s tank top. she smiles but helps you get it off and throws it aside, revealing the red bra she’s wearing underneath. the sight takes your breath away, and you’re stunned into silence. unlike nat, you can’t help yourself but blatantly stare.

“you’re so pretty,” you finally whisper, leaning in to kiss the swell of her breasts that spill from the bra.

nat’s now bare fingers tangle in your hair as she guides you, letting you have this. you mouth at the fabric eagerly, yet before you can pull it down, nat pushes you back into the sheets.

you don’t feel exposed like you thought you would in this position, even though you evidently are: with your hair sprawled out around your head on the pillows, your nipples hard and on full display, and your chest heaving rapidly. you can feel the wet patch in your underwear.

nat leans over you and begins kissing down the expanse of your upper body. her mouth trails down the valley between your breasts, leaving the faintest marks in the places where she sucks on your skin just a little harder.

“so pretty,” nat mumbles absentmindedly, her calloused fingertips roaming your sides. they fall to your pants next. with both eyes closed and your head thrown back into the plushy pillows, you nod.

“please,” you whisper into the space between you. a space that’s yours and nat’s only. “please!”

“i got you, cheerleader,” nat says teasingly. you blink an eye open to see her staring down at you. her hands spring into action, skilled fingers unbuttoning your jeans before unzipping them and peeling them off your legs. you kick them down the edge of the bed, leaving you completely bare except for the thin, soaked fabric of your underwear. nat must see the stain on the fabric from where she’s sitting between your knees.

her palms press flat against your legs, brushing up their length until they land on the flesh of your inner thighs and nudge them apart. if she hadn’t seen your arousal before, the pleased smile on her face when her eyes land on your crotch speaks volumes.

“holy shit,” she mutters, her voice husky and low.

you want her, you realize, more than you’ve ever wanted anything else before. you want her fingers, her mouth, whatever nat is willing to give you. you tremble with the force of allowing yourself to feel this kind of want, to let it take over you without any attempts or reasons to oppress it.

“nat,”

her eyes flick up and her fingers instinctively reach for the waistline of your panties, a silent question hanging between you.

“yes!” you nod. “yes please!”

instead of taking them off right away like you had expected, nat begins kissing up your inner thighs, occasionally letting her tongue dart out to lick over your skin.

“can i…?” she husks when her nose practically nudges the crotch of your underwear.

too impatient to deprive yourself of it any longer, you hook your fingers into the hemline yourself and push them down past your knees.

nat smiles up at you softly before she lets her eyes drop to your naked form. you can feel all the places where your wetness is sticking to your thighs, the air making you hyper-aware of all the wet spots.

“god,” she groans, her fingers running through her bleach blonde hair. “look at you…” she brings her other hand up to gently spread you open and take in the sight of your body bare before her.

you spread your legs a little wider for her, gasping when nat’s thumb brushes your clit for the first time. your soft moan makes her crawl up your body, her lips meeting yours in a searing kiss to hush you, her fingers gliding through your arousal.

“nat,” you moan against her mouth. “nat, inside.”

thankfully, nat understands. your body tenses when she slides them into you with a soft moan of her own, then immediately relaxes when she smiles against your lips. you feel yourself fluttering around her as you take nat in greedily.

“good?” she breathes, motionless until you nod erratically. that’s when she begins to move.

immediately, she’s drawing obscenely wet noises from between your thighs that echo from the walls around you. you gasp at one particular good thrust against your walls, her fingers curling against a spot that causes your eyes to roll back in your head.

you moan as your head falls back against the pillows and your mouth hangs open against nat’s. you cling to her body breathlessly, reaching around her back as her fingers work themselves deeper into you.

“mhm, i know,” nat gently whispers, “i know, that’s it, i got you,”

all her praise goes straight to your cunt, sending another wave of pleasure surging through your body. your hand finds hers through the haze and you lace your fingers together. you need to feel her, need to know that she’s still there.

“you take my fingers so well,” she praises, each word accompanied by another thrust. you nod once again, her voice sending you spiraling and gushing more arousal all over her fingers.

“i’m gonna put my mouth on you now, is that okay?” she asks.

“yeah!” you instantly assure, eyes turning to the ceiling above, mentally bracing yourself for the sensation of her lips and tongue on your pussy. “yeah, please!”

she doesn’t kiss your body as thoroughly this time for the sake of reaching her destination faster: only brushes her lips over your stomach briefly before getting comfortable between your spread legs.

your hands curl up in her hair tightly in anticipation and nat hums in response before her mouth closes around your clit and sucks. nothing could’ve ever prepared you for the actual feeling of nat scatorccio's mouth.

you can see her eyes through her sweaty bangs, catch the way they roll back in head at the first taste of you.

“oh, nat!” you moan, louder than you should, but neither of you cares. you arch your back off the soft sheets, grinding yourself against nat’s broad tongue until you feel your stomach coiling and tightening in pleasure. there’s an unrelenting tension building up there, one that’s just waiting to snap. she lets you chase your orgasm, allows you to move however you please.

“are you close?” nat murmurs against you, her fingers sliding back into your cunt so suddenly you shudder. it seems harder for her to thrust into you now, with your walls tightening around the digits.

“i think so” you manage breathlessly.

nat, spurred out by this, doubles her efforts and dives right back in, flicking your clit with her tongue and curling her fingers against your g-spot. it’s so much. it’s not nearly enough. it’s perfect.

nat sends you over the edge in mere seconds.

“that’s it,” you hear her praising.

with a cry of nat's name, you cum against the feeling of her mouth and fingers. you can still sense her voice talking you through it, but it feels distant with the pleasure rushing through your veins.

her hand squeezes yours through the orgasm, grounding you as you tremble with pleasure. not once does she take her eyes off you as you ride out the waves of your height.

only when your body stops shaking, nat pulls out, clearly not wanting to push you to a point of overstimulation. someday, you think to yourself, you might ask her to. but not tonight. tonight you want to enjoy the new experience with her and the tenderness of nat’s touch.

the next time you open your heavy lidded eyes, nat is lingering above you. she’s watching you recover through wide, curious eyes.

“hi,” she whispers when she notices.

“hi,” you chuckle, still breathless.

“was that…” nat trails off, biting her lips. “okay?”

instead of a verbal response, you cup her cheeks and crane your neck to gently kiss her lips. you can taste yourself on them and have to fight back the urge to lick your arousal from nat’s mouth.

“more than okay,” you whisper then.

you’re spinning her around before you know it, kissing nat with newfound determination as you press her into the mattress.

there’s a long night ahead of you.

the room is dim now, the only light coming from the soft glow of the streetlight outside. nat is perched on the windowsill, the cool night air blowing in through the open window. she exhales smoke, the grey tendrils curling lazily in the air before disappearing into the darkness, and you watch her.

“can i ask you something?” nat’s voice is soft, her eyes lingering on the street outside.

you nod, drawing your legs closer to your chest you as you sit beside her. “of course,”

she turns to you, a hint of vulnerability in her eyes. “what does this…what does it all mean for us? i mean, after everything with your ex, i want to be sure, you know? i don’t want you to feel like you have to rush into anything or that i’m, like, pressuring you,”

you can tell nat is trying to be careful for your sake, but it’s obvious her mind is already on what’s next. you want to reassure her, to let her know this is what you want, something that feels right in a way nothing ever did with your ex.

“nat,” you begin “it’s okay. i do want this. i want you. i’m not going anywhere!”

she blinks at you, her gaze softening as the words settle between you two. she takes a slow drag from her cigarette, letting the smoke drift out of her mouth with a sigh. then, she sets it aside on the sill, her fingers tracing a light path along the window frame.

“i just want to make sure I’m doing this right,” she murmurs. “i mean, i kinda jumped into it with you. and, look, i’ve never really been one for...all of this, you know? i want to take my time with you. show you that i want this!”

your eyes widen just slightly, a smile tugging at your lips. “you want to take your time with me?”

nat looks away for a second, clearly flustered. “i know, i know. it sounds fucking ridiculous, but…yeah. i do. i’ve never really done this right with anyone before, and i want us to take this slow!” she glances back at you. “not because i don’t want you! god, i do! it's cause i really do want to…swoon you properly”

you laugh, a light sound, your heart swelling with affection. “you’re really something, you know that?”

“a hopeless romantic,” she jokes, but you can tell there’s none of her usual sarcasm behind it.

you pull nat a little closer, your fingers brushing against her hand. “i’d love that,” you whisper, meeting her eyes. “i’d love for you to…” you grin, making a vague gesture. “swoon me”

before she can say anything else, you kiss her. it’s slow, sweet, the kind of kiss that feels like it could go on forever if you wanted it to. eventually, you do have to pull away to catch your breath.

“i’m not going anywhere either,” you assure. “take all the time you need, nat. i’m right here!”

she grins, a little sheepish but undeniably happy, and leans in to kiss you again, this time with more certainty, more trust.

“deal,” she murmurs. “but, for the record, i do want to be your girlfriend. if that’s…something you want, too?”

just when you thought this evening couldn’t get any better...

“yeah” you confirm, smiling so widely your cheeks ache from it. “that is something i want,”

weeks later…

the air is warm, bordering on too hot, a hint of summer heat creeping into the car despite the ac as the engine hums quietly. the smell of fresh grass and the distant sound of chatter from the graduation ceremony echo outside, but inside, it’s just the two of you.

you and nat are in the backseat, both of you in your graduation gowns, caps discarded carelessly on the passenger seat. the gowns, those stiff, awkward, and uncomfortable outfits, are crumpled around your bodies as you make out.

your girlfriend’s lips are warm against your own, her hand tangled in your hair as she urges you against herself. her laughter vibrates against your mouth, and you break the kiss just enough to look at her, eyes practically sparkling with mischief.

“we’re going to be late,” nat murmurs between soft kisses down your neck, her voice teasing. “they’ll be looking for us, and then we’ll be arrested for public indecency!”

you laugh, a soft, breathless noise that blends with the hum of the engine, and shake your head. “who cares?” you press your lips against hers again. “i’d rather be here with you!”

nat grins, a little breathless herself now. “yeah, me too.” she leans in again, but pulls back just as quickly, glancing at the clock on the dashboard. “we’re literally getting our diplomas in, like, 10 minutes. and we’re in the back of my car, making out. that doesn’t exactly scream ‘responsible graduates,’ does it?”

you both burst into laughter, the sound of it filling the space of her car. “let’s just skip the ceremony and do this all day,” you tease, your fingers brushing over her gown, feeling the fabric slide beneath your touch.

nat laughs again, pulling away to look at you with that same fond, playful expression she always has when she’s teasing you. “we could,” she says, “but i think the others might kill us!”

you chuckle, then glance out the window briefly. the ceremony is happening just outside the school, with enough room for all your classmates to gather for one final moment together.

you know this is it: this is a chapter closing. but for now, it doesn’t matter. all that matters is this moment. with nat and the heat of summer beginning to settle in around you.

her fingers brush your cheek, pulling your focus back to her. “we should really get out there,” she says, though there’s no real urgency in her tone. it’s clear that she wants to stay here with you just as much as you do too.

“i know,” you reply softly. then, after a pause, you add: “in a second!”

“in a second,” nat parrots, her voice full of affection. “just a few more minutes…then we can go face the world together, as graduates, yeah?”

you nod, your heart racing as her tongue briefly slips past your lips, deepening the kiss. her hand cups your cheek and her thumb brushes your skin, the free one creeping up beneath your gown, pushing your bra up and…

suddenly, there’s a loud knock on the window.

you both freeze, breaking apart so fast that nat accidentally bumps her head against the roof of the car. “shit!” she mutters, rubbing the back of her head as you whip your gaze toward the window.

outside, van is standing with a huge grin, tapping the glass with her knuckles. the rest of the team is waiting right behind her, all of them smirking knowingly.

“hey, lovebirds!” she calls, loud enough to make sure you both hear through the glass. she leans down so her face is level with the window, cupping her hands to block out the glare of the sun. “you two realize we can see you, right?” she says. “pretty sure the rest of the parking lot can too!”

nat groans, dragging a hand over her face while you stifle a laugh. she opens the door and climbs out, glaring half-heartedly at van. “ever heard of knocking quietly?” she grumbles.

“oh, i did,” van replies, her grin widening. “you just didn’t notice. wonder why…”

nat flips her off, more playful than anything. “you’re so annoying!”

“yeah, yeah.” van waves her off, completely unbothered. “let’s go, casanova!”

you climb out after nat, smoothing your gown and trying not to blush too hard under the knowing smirks of the yellowjackets gathered around.

jackie and shauna have their arms looped casually around each other as they exchange a look. “about time,” jackie says. “thought we’d have to drag you two out ourselves!”

nat snorts. “i don’t think either of you could’ve managed that!”

“don’t tempt us,” shauna fires back with a grin. “we’ve wrestled worse!”

“anyway,” taissa cuts in, grinning as she straightens the yellow sash draped over her blue gown. “can we get moving before we miss the ceremony?”

nat mutters something under her breath as she adjusts her own gown. you glance down, realizing the fabric is slightly askew where it had bunched up in the car.

“here, let me-” you step in closer, smoothing out the material over her shoulder and down her arm. your hands linger a second longer than necessary, and when you look up, nat’s gaze is soft.

van groans loudly, dragging out the sound and snapping you out of it. “oh my god, you two. we get it! you’re gross and in love! can we please go now?”

nat ignores her this time, grabbing your hand and intertwining your fingers together under the loose fabric of the gown sleeves as she tugs you toward the others.

by the time you reach the staging area, you've all settled into an easy hum of excitement. parents and relatives of your classmates chatter nearby, camera flashes going off as the graduates start lining up.

nat pulls you aside, letting the others shuffle ahead for a moment.

“everything okay?” you ask, your voice low.

she hesitates, glancing at the bustling staging area where the rest of the yellowjackets have gathered. then her eyes return to yours. “yeah, it’s just…this is it, huh?”

you tilt your head, smiling softly. “graduation?”

“no, i mean…this. us. life after this,” she says, her voice dipping quieter. “it’s all gonna change!”

your chest tightens at her words. things with you have been going well these past weeks. great even. life after graduation had been something you always purposefully avoided. you didn’t want to ruin your last weeks of this by worrying about what would come after.

now, before you can let the thought spiral, nat squeezes your hand. “not in a bad way,” she says. “i just…i want you to know, whatever happens now, wherever we end up, you’re it for me. you know that, right?”

it’s such a simple thing, the way she says it, but it hits you like the sweetest punch to the gut. you smile at her, your chest full of a warmth you can’t quite describe. “you’re it for me too, nat,”

before you can process what’s happening, the words tumble out of nat. “god, i love you!”

it’s barely above a whisper, but it’s there: raw and real and so perfectly nat. your heart skips a beat, your eyes widening as the weight of her confession sinks in.

she freezes, clearly realizing what she’s just said. “i- i mean-” she stammers, her cheeks flushing as she starts to backtrack. “you totally don’t have to say it back or anything! i just-“

“i love you too!” your voice cuts off her rambling. relief washes over her face, and she lets out a breathy laugh. “you do?” nat asks, like she’s scared she misheard.

you nod, stepping closer until the space between you is nearly nonexistent. “yeah, nat, i do”

she grins, her hands coming up to hold your face as she leans in. you kiss her back just as eagerly, forgetting for a moment that you’re supposed to be at graduation, that there’s a whole crowd of people right around the corner.

only the sound of a camera click jolts you both back to reality. you pull apart, turning to see jackie standing a few feet away with a polaroid camera in hand and a smug grin on her face.

“oh, come on!” nat groans, her hands falling from your face as jackie waves the photo in the air.

“this is going on the fridge,” she teases, holding it just out of reach.

“give it back!” you protest, laughter bubbling out of you as nat starts toward her. “come and get it!” jackie taunts, taking off toward the rest of the group.

you glance at nat, who’s already chasing after her. without thinking, you follow.

van watches the scene unfold, shaking her head with a grin. “they’re never gonna make it on time,” she says.

“totally worth it,” taissa replies, smirking as you and nat disappear into the crowd after jackie.

somewhere across the field, the cheer squad is frantically fixing their hair and makeup, their voices filled with nervous chatter. you don’t even notice. for the first time in what feels like forever, they’re the furthest thing from your mind.

the only thing you can think about is nat: her laughter, her smile, and the way her hand feels in yours as you chase after jackie.

and as you run, breathless and alive, you realize that all of this was supposed to happen. that you are exactly where you're meant to be.

— a/n: thank you all so much for reading! this was my first actual fic “series” with multiple chapters, so i hope i did a decent job covering everything 🐉 anon requested!! i appreciate your support & feedback so so much! thank you, thank you, thank you!! <3 (also the last sentence might be a chapter 1 reference…)

[loveandleases]

What kind of picture of MC (if any) would the ROs have as their wallpaper? And what's MC's number saved as? Rn and later on in a relationship stage?

I remember answering something similar last year, but I can't find the photos from then. So...just gonna do it again.

❤️ Cam - He tends to switch it up. Sometimes he would have a candid of MC that he totally didn't take because he thought they looked good. Or, it's a photo of the two of them. For holidays, it's a holiday photo. Ugly Sweaters for Xmas, a costume for halloween. Then a very random photo of Cam wearing bunny ears in some short shorts for Easter, while MC holds the carrot. (Cam had bet MC and they lost so.) Cam has MC saved under Red, but it can change due to player choice.

But relationship Cam... relationship Cam has a photo that he is so proud to display but his desire to have MC to himself refuses to let him.

It begins just below MC's nose and cuts off at the edge of their waist. A silk sheet lays draped across their body, its delicate texture contrasting with the raw marks he has painted on their skin. Bite marks and hickeys across the parts that are visible. His hand cups their chin gently but possessively, with one finger hooked slightly under their lip, tugging it down just enough to reveal the soft flesh within. MC's lips would be agape, lips swollen and flushed.

💙 G - They claim they don't have a single photo of MC, but they actually have several. Even one from graduation when they were no longer talking. They don't have MC's current number, (yet), but if they did it would be of MC asleep while in the library studying, or curled up in their bed. They would save MC's name as their nickname.

One option for relationship stage G is: "My once and always"

G would use the graduation photo. It was bittersweet because they hadn’t been the one to make MC laugh that day. And they hadn’t stuck around long enough to notice how their expression fell when they looked for them, only to realize G was already gone. No goodbye.

G had taken the photo when no one was looking, back when they thought they’d never have the chance to see them again. Despite their hurt and stubbornness, they’d given in to the desire to remember—to hold onto what MC looked like when their face lit up, the way they could make the world fade away.

G still looked at that photo sometimes, especially on bad days. Especially after running into MC on the street. Because no matter how much they wanted to believe MC hadn’t changed... they had. And knowing they hadn’t been there to witness it, to experience it alongside them, killed a little part of G every time.

💚 Kara - It's an old photo from back when they worked together. Probably taken when Kara dragged MC to a night of drinks after a long day of work. She had talked MC into allowing her to take a photo for social media, but once she saw it she decided against it and kept it for herself. She has MC saved as "Babes or Boss" (That last one is full sarcasm for crushing stage Kara.)

She thought MC looked very free, they didn't have the expectations of work, of their family, or of Chris and their upcoming nuptials. For once they looked like someone who could finally breathe. MC was a different person when they worked, there was a quiet confidence in them back then. Not like now, and no matter how much she doesn't want to think/admit MC lost that bit of themselves after everything with Chris. So, she likes to think of MC from then, hoping to be able to see MC with that spark of confidence once more.

💛 M - They so badly want a photo of MC in a costume. But would settle for any. Relationship stage M would want a couple's photo or a still from one of the photo booths that they talked MC into going in on one of their dates. It looks so casual from an outside perspective, but in actuality M couldn't have been more nervous. They were falling all over themselves and so sure that they ruined the date. Only for a kiss at the end of the night.

Relationship stage M would want a photo of MC holding one of their books. To anyone else it's just a photo, but to M, it's so evocative and it excites them. A heavy lidded gaze full of desire... directed at the person behind the camera. At M.

M would save MC's number under "My Muse".

💜 Isaac - It would be a selfie MC sent them, when Isaac was trying their best not to care. To be as detached as possible, and yet they still saved that photo. It was like the first little sign that Isaac was growing attached, that MC was nothing like their sister. That Isaac had the capacity to care for someone after that. Though Isaac would totally be okay if it was a photo of MC in the back of their car.

Isaac would first save MC under 'not a model', a throwback to when Isaac very much thought otherwise when in Cam's studio. Relationship stage would be "My Anchor"

🖤 Ardent - 100% a photo of MC and Cupid, even before relationship stage. It would likely have been taken one of the many times MC had to bring Cupid back to him after she followed Cam home. (Cam The Cat Stealer Returns!) Now relationship stage, maybe a photo of the three of them. But if Ardent could get one of them and then including his niece... he would be like putty. That photo would be his wallpaper and screensaver. It would have been taken on one of their outings, probably to a fair when MC had to practically beg him to get on the rides. (Ardent will not admit the sound that came out of his mouth in the scare house. Nothing happened!)

I could see Ardent wanting a more sensual photo of MC, arms above their head and his hand holding their wrists. Or... probably his favorite. MC bent over his hand resting between their shoulders and their eyes closed in complete trust. Of course the photo ends before you can see their hips, or the way they're slotted together. There's a softness in MC’s expression, and in Ardent’s memory, the feeling of being in control, yet his emotions were anything but. He might have had a grip of the situation, but he didn't have one on how he felt.

MC is probably saved under "Brat" , "Trouble", or "Kitten".

[morningsharksworld]

Just confess already!!!

Hazard x Hopeless Romantic! Reader

A/N: This was going to be an oc x cannon fic but tbh I know some people feel like this for others and went WHY NOT

Summary: JUST TELL HIM ALREADY

You were nursing a cup of coffee at the dimly lit bar the Phreaks called their second home. The music was low, a rare lull in the usual chaos that followed the gang. Across the room, Hazard was playing darts, his sharp eyes focused on the target. Every so often, he’d crack a joke or smirk at something Boomslang said, his laugh echoing in the space.

You couldn’t stop staring, your heart doing that stupid fluttering thing it always did when he was near. But no matter how much you felt, you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything.

“You’re pathetic, you know that?”

The sudden voice beside you made you jump, nearly spilling your coffee. You turned to see Boomslang leaning against the bar, her ever-present smirk firmly in place.

“Excuse me?” you said, raising an eyebrow.

“Don’t play dumb” she said, gesturing toward Hazard with his drink. “You’ve been making goo-goo eyes at him for months. Hell, maybe even years. When are you gonna grow a spine and tell him?”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Not you too.”

“Oh, definitely me” she said, sliding into the stool next to you. “And you’re lucky, ‘cause I’m the nicest one in this group. If Susie were here, she’d—”

“If Susie were here, she’d what?”

You flinched as Susie appeared out of nowhere, her boots clunking against the floor as she crossed her arms and gave you a pointed look. “Don’t stop on my account, Boom. Go ahead, finish the thought.”

Boomslang grinned. “She’d give you hell, obviously. Right, Susie?”

You felt Susie rolled her nonexistent eyes and turned her attention to you. “Look, we’re not trying to be jerks. But seriously, what’s stopping you? Hazard isn’t a mind reader.”

“He doesn’t need to be” you muttered, staring into your coffee. “It’s obvious he’s not interested.”

Susie snorted. “Are you kidding me? Do you know how many times he’s asked me if you’re okay when you’re not around? Or how often he gets distracted during missions ‘cause he’s worried about you?”

Boomslang chimed in, “Not to mention the fact that he’s actually tolerable when you’re around. That’s a miracle all on its own.”

You frowned, your heart pounding. “You’re exaggerating.”

“Am I?” Susie leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a serious tone. “Listen, I’ve been around enough people to know when someone’s holding back. Hazard’s got his issues, sure, but he cares about you. Probably more than he even realizes. You just have to give him a reason to admit it.”

You shook your head, your stomach twisting. “It’s not that simple.”

“Nothing worth having ever is” Boomslang said, clinking her glass against yours. “But you’re running out of time, sweetheart. Guys like Hazard don’t stick around forever.”

Susie nodded, her voice uncharacteristically soft. “I’m not saying he’s gonna disappear tomorrow, but life happens fast in our world. If you wait too long, you might lose your chance. And trust me, regret’s a bitch.”

You glanced back at Hazard. He was laughing now, leaning against the dartboard as another member of the crew tried (and failed) to beat his score. He looked so carefree in that moment, so alive.

“I don’t even know how I’d do it” you admitted quietly.

Boomslang grinned. “That’s the easy part. You walk up to him and say, ‘Hey, Hazard, I’m into you.’ Boom. Done.”

Susie smacked her arm. “Ignore her. Just… be honest. Tell him how you feel, no games, no excuses. If he feels the same, great. If he doesn’t… well, at least you’ll know, right?”

You swallowed hard, the weight of their words settling over you. They were right—you’d been holding back out of fear, but that fear wasn’t going to disappear on its own. If you didn’t take the risk, you’d never know what could have been.

“I’ll think about it” you said, your voice shaky but determined.

Boomslang raised her glass in a mock toast. “That’s all we’re asking for. Just don’t take too long, yeah?”

Susie hummed. “And if you chicken out, don’t worry—we’ll happily push you in his direction.”

You groaned, but a small smile tugged at your lips. “Thanks… I think.”

As they walked away, you took a deep breath, your eyes drifting back to Hazard. The fear was still there, but so was something else—hope.

Maybe, just maybe, it was time to take the leap.

The noise from the bar faded as you stepped out onto the balcony, the cool night air wrapping around you like a welcome reprieve. You sighed, leaning on the railing, the weight of your thoughts pressing down on you. This was the only quiet spot, far from the crowd—perfect for what you were about to do.

You pulled your jacket tighter around you, gathering the courage once more. You couldn’t keep pushing it aside—tonight had to be the night. You were tired of hiding your feelings, of pretending you didn’t care. Hazard deserved to know, no matter what came next.

Just as you were about to speak, the door creaked open behind you. You turned to see Hazard stepping out onto the balcony, his eyes scanning the space for a moment before settling on you.

“What’re you doin’ out here?” he asked, his tone casual but curious.

You shrugged, playing with the hem of your sleeve. “Needed some air. A lot of things have been… on my mind.”

Hazard’s brow furrowed slightly as he approached, his usual cool expression softening. “Ye a’right?”

You hesitated for a second, then let out a nervous laugh. “No, actually. I’ve been kinda of a mess.”

Hazard stepped closer, now standing beside you, his presence quiet but steady. “A mess? What’s got you in such a state?”

You sighed, turning to face him fully. “Look, I didn’t come out here to waste time. I needed to say something.”

Hazard’s sharp gaze sharpened. “Aye? What’s on your mind, then?”

You took a deep breath, gathering every ounce of courage you had left. “I’ve been wanting to tell you something for a while. And I can’t keep pretending anymore… I like you, Hazard. I like you more than I should...”

His lips twitched into a subtle smirk, and you could tell he wasn’t surprised—but it still made your nerves tangle. “Oh?” he murmured, his voice soft but with that familiar teasing edge.

“Yes” you continued, feeling more confident now that the words were out. “And… I don’t want to pretend it doesn’t mean anything anymore. I care about you, more than I should.”

Hazard’s smirk grew, but it wasn’t mocking—more like… intrigued. “You’ve been carryin’ this for a while, haven’t you?”

You nodded, unable to hide the blush rising in your cheeks. “Yes. And I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I—”

Before you could say more, Hazard took a step forward, closing the small distance between you. His expression softened, his gaze steady. “You should’ve told me sooner, then.”

Your breath hitched. “I was scared. What if I messed things up? or worse, what if you didn’t like me at all?”

Hazard chuckled softly, shaking his head. “You’re braver than most I’ve met, Ach, I've seen ye punch guys twice yer size Luv. But ye don’t need to worry ‘bout that.”

You frowned slightly, confused. “What do you mean?”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair before locking eyes with you again. “I’ve known for a while now… I’ve been feelin’ the same.”

Your heart skipped, the weight of his words settling in. “What?”

Hazard gave you a small, amused smirk. “Aye, I’ve been feelin’ the same way ‘bout ye.”

For a moment, you were speechless. Your mind couldn’t process it.

“…You like me?” you whispered, disbelief washing over you.

“Aye” Hazard replied, his expression serious now, but with that familiar quiet confidence. “Just didn’t want to ruin what we had.”

You blinked, your mind reeling. You couldn’t believe it—he’d felt the same for so long, and yet, he’d never said a word. And now, here you were, finally hearing it from him, your face completely flushed.

“ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!” you exclaimed, throwing your hands up in disbelief. “Do you have any idea the amount of nights I’ve stayed up thinking about you!? I mean I must look like a damn dog waiting for y—”

But before you could finish, Hazard stepped closer, his hand gently cupping your cheek. He leaned in, cutting you off mid-rant with a soft, kiss on the lips—firm but tender, grounding and real.

Your eyes widened in surprise, but your breath caught in your throat, melting into the kiss. It was unlike anything you’d imagined—something more, something you hadn’t realized you needed.

He pulled back just slightly, his Scottish accent thick and warm as he murmured, “Now, does that feel like ruinin’ anythin’ to ye?”

You blinked, your heart fluttering wildly. No—this felt right. More than right. And you couldn’t help but smile, your hands gripping the edge of his jacket slightly.

“No… it doesn’t” you whispered, feeling a warmth bloom in your chest.

Hazard smirked again, leaning in just enough so his breath brushed against your ear. “Good. ‘Cause you’ve got me now, and I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

You felt a rush of relief—of certainty—that this wasn’t just a fleeting moment. This was real.

And finally, you let yourself believe it.

[porcelainseashore]

Summer Solstice - Beach Episode by Night

Commissioned art by @medeaft

Author's Note: My “drabble” (inspired by a music ask) for the lovely @beach-episode-by-night event. A heartfelt thank you to @mortifying-macaroni and @alibellerosetta whom I dedicate this piece to. Your encouragement made it possible.

Along the I-10 highway to Tucson, Wynter takes a detour toward the coastline on impulse, chasing the memory of a bygone summer’s day.

Content Warnings: Suicidal thoughts, references to murder, wraith, pre-canon, weird uncle/niece relationship, blame it on the Giovanni.

How long has it been?

The chime sounded as she left the car door open with her keys in the ignition, monotonous, comforting yet cajoling her to do something about it. It didn’t matter; hers was the lone automobile on the desolate street. If someone wanted this piece of junk, they’d earn the right by swiping it off her hands behind her back.

In the tepid late October air, Wynter had taken a detour off the I-10 toward the Gulf Coast on a whim, with the windows rolled down because the air conditioner wasn’t working—it never did. Closer to the basin, the smell of brine from the Atlantic hit her tenfold. She had been swimming in her thoughts, her reflexes on autopilot, as if she remembered the route by heart. That was the question, what did she remember? Why had she come here, when she had spent the last two decades running off and reinventing herself, just like her estranged sire, Violetta, taught her to?

Instead of answering, she faced away from the wind, lashes downturned and fluttering, as she cupped her hand over her mouth, lighting up a cigarette and ignoring the faint protests of her Beast. The wind was still as violent as she’d left it. Heeled boots crunched into gravel, which finally opened out to soft mounds of sand. She wasn’t in a hurry; she had time to kill, even with her battered, old Honda that was on its last legs. 

The Prince could wait. 

What was a couple of USB sticks that he desired good for? They lay stuffed and suffocated in her worn-down satchel—one she’d found while rummaging through the trash—with its straps chewed and frayed at the ends. Maybe just enough for emergency repairs and a meal or two, if she was lucky.

From afar, she could make out the salt-stripped cafes, gaudy tiki bars with their balding straw roofs, and a row of little wooden clapboard houses, paint-chipped and peeling, along the boardwalk. Weather-beaten “For sale” and “We’re closed!” signs hung awkwardly from the establishments, some on their last nail, swaying to and fro, creaking in the breeze. Her gaze trailed over the tired beach chairs, deflated pool toys, and broken surfboards. A smattering of them had found their way across the divide, acting like driftwood in the sea.

The sound of children’s giggles and bare feet pattering on the floorboards echoed in the distance. She gripped her bag tight, but did not look back. Her shoes were sinking into the wet sand now, and the air carried warm moisture which settled beneath the layer of clothes onto her skin. Her very own form of sweat.

The moon illuminated her path, but at the edge of the ocean, she was at a loss for what to do. Why was she here? What had called her? How—

“Wynter,” it whispered, balmy in the zephyr. “Why don’t you come out to play?”

She shielded her eyes, as though blinded by the brilliant sun, peering out into the vast space before her. And there he was, clear as day, in his light blue shorts and a roseate burn creeping through his tanned back, wading toward her in the water. Earlier, she had been sulking under the beach umbrella while her mother flipped through a magazine and her father chatted jovially with other men over rounds of drinks at the bar.

The wind was howling. Fine, white sand swirled in the current. She didn’t like how hot it got under her feet. Everything hurt. But for Lucien, she would bear through it all. His smile ached as she splashed into the water, salt clinging to her lips and foam gathering in the tendrils of her hair. She took a deep breath and dived, dipping under the waves of the high tide. A strong pair of arms entangled around her waist as she was drawn out of the sea, and she wriggled to break free of their grasp while her uncle chuckled. And soon, she was laughing too.

“My very own mermaid,” he murmured. 

Wynter bared her teeth and hissed, “But I will drown you and taste your flesh.”

He touched her chin, smiling sadly. “Well, it would be worth it, to me.”

She didn’t think anything of it then, bounding out of Lucien’s embrace and paddling through the waters. That day, under the cloudless sky and the sun’s rays glittering beyond the horizon, she felt how magnificent it was to be alive. Glancing over at Lucien, she paused, meeting his eyes, shifting azure blue, watching the droplets trickle down his brow. The waves crashed on shore. Seagulls crooned overhead. Time whiled away in silence. Their eyes searching for a morsel they could hold on to. Years of an unspoken bond buried in a look. He believed in it then, how pure and indescribable it was. And the curve of his mouth reflected hers.

For all the trials he would be put through, he’d gladly suffer, even if there was no end in sight. She waded closer to him, the water now reaching waist-high. But it was murky. Her cigarette butt had gone out, leaving traces of the woody scent of dark tobacco in the air, but even that too was fading. Instead of the heat of the sun beating down her back, she encountered the cool, umbral glow of the moon, iridescent on her bloodless skin. She wanted it to burn her alive.

Her Beast recoiled at the mere thought of seeing the light of day, but Wynter entertained it for a moment longer, savoring the fear, the way the light extinguished in someone’s eyes before they expired.

“Let me drown with you,” she prayed, the flicker of an unearthly sheen present in her eyes.

In her peripheral vision, a shadow flitted between the steel scaffolding of the once-grandiose pier, now in a state of irreversible decay, rusting to the elements. She remembered standing there as a child, sick from cotton candy, and the noise of the fairground rides flooding her ears. A postcard marred with heavy creases—one of the many within the bundle she had stashed in her glove compartment. She held it out in front of the pier, shutting one eye and squinting, then doing the same with the other. 

Every year, she received a blank card, the address scribbled in handwriting she didn’t recognize. Regardless of whether she stayed at a temporary residence or relied on throwaway collection points dotted across the country, they arrived without fail. “Wish you were here’s” by the ghost of a loved one on perpetual vacation. Places she had been to. Places she had dreamed of. This time, a picturesque painting of the old pier at dawn. 

It could have been a trap, but she found it strangely comforting, knowing she had a place to come back to, observing the swell and receding waves until she would be nothing more than ashes floating on the surface at the break of day. Kindred talked about death as if it were so final, but to her, death was only the beginning. A concrete structure on the pier groaned, loosening from its bolt before collapsing into the sea. The sound and vibrations were tremendous, but Wynter didn’t flinch.

How long could she drag this out? How much more could she keep on going?

For a while, she had been aware of a presence watching her, but made no sign to acknowledge its existence. It was tempting to seek it out, as was the habit of being a hunter, but she decided otherwise. The Shroud was thin here. Mortals had long since abandoned this place. Yet some remained. 

There was a deep rooted tingle in her spine. She had overstayed her welcome; she should leave, but not before—

The postcard slipped from her fingers, drifting in the stream until she lost sight of it. A featherlight kiss on the nape of her neck. She shuddered again and closed her eyes. When they opened, she checked the time on her cracked iPhone screen. 

Without a word, she followed her tracks back to her awaiting car, the chime still ringing incessantly. She hopped in and drove off, leaving whatever had happened that day behind. 

The Prince of Tucson couldn’t wait any longer.

Dividers by @diableriedoll

[only-omo]

i know this has been said before but can we really go in depth on this

characters who are so incredibly skilled at pretending they dont have to pee that no one has any idea until they are suddenly wetting

characters who are actually almost painfully perceptive, but even they are shocked into silence as their friend just randomly starts peeing like its cool

and of course its only sudden to everyone else, poor victim themself has actually spent the past hour at least, if not more, doing everything they can to not flood themselves on the spot, but not anything that could give them away even slightly, so the desperation felt would be crazy extreme

they would probably start slowly leaking at some point, as they arent doing anything (except for mostly futile muscle clenching) physical to help them hold at all, and at that point theyll probably switch from trying to properly hold it, to just trying to be discreet about it. trying to hide any growing wet spots, trying not to go despondent and stay engaged so that people dont catch on, literally holding conversations as urine slowly runs down their legs and not really doing anything to stop it, but just trying to keep it slow and quiet, and above anything else, keep any clues of whats happening out of their expression and body language.

maybe they manage to be discreet the whole time, and no one ever even finds out what happened right in front of them.

or they manage to wet discreetly, but completely throw everyone off at a slightly later point, when someone suddenly notices their soaked pants, and cannot recall the last time any of them interacted with any liquids that could have potentially spilled, so they inquire. and now the victim can either come up with some poor excuse that maybe people probably dont believe, or they just come clean, rather sheepishly despite their nonchalant demeanor about it, that they did, in fact, piss themself, and it was actually a few minutes ago that it even happened

or they manage to kinda hold on despite leaking, enough to stretch their bladder to its proper limit, leading them to have a very noticeable, rather loud accident. maybe for some reason everyones attention was already on them, for something simple, like being asked if they want to order a drink or stuff like that, but they can no longer keep up the act, starting with just a long nervous pause, no one else able to figure out why the question asked poses such a conundrum to them.

after a long-ish moment, the victim would mutter out something, maybe an apology, maybe just weak noises of defeat, as the floodgates finally break, and they start wetting forcefully and messily.

theres something about more public wettings, especially if not even slightly anticipated, that is just the most thrilling. it can get to be so humiliating that it makes even me, as an omo enthusiast, cringe with embarrassment. but its the fact that, no matter how much anybody cringes, there is nothing that that person can do to stop what is happening. it is their reality and they have to deal with it as it is, even when its so humiliating it feels stupid

and you know that this kind of accident would be at the peak of max embarrassment, it doesnt matter if the people around them are understanding or mocking or what, the sudden attention on the one thing theyd been trying to avoid will send their brain over the edge of functioning, and the best they can do is just hide their face and wait for someone else to do something

[mailboxxi]

AH DW I LOVE ANSWERING ANY QUESTIONS ESP ABT MY GUY! it makes me really happy to see you genuinely interested in faro! he’s been rattling around my head for the better part of the last few months but only just now got the courage to share him it really validates me so ty <3

incoming yap fest ahh i hope u don’t mind how long this ended up being ..!

yes he was present during the trial, but stayed at the sidelines with the crowd as he wasn’t an apprentice of tom’s, just a kid that dropped by to watch them work a lot ^_^ it’s for that same reason that he didn’t end up being targeted by cp9- he didn’t know anything about the pluton blueprints, even if iceberg or franky might’ve brought it offhandedly to him, he wouldn’t have seen or known about its contents so i think he would’ve been safe (but i think they’d still keep a close tab on him for his current involvement and working so closely with iceberg til now)

he was really close with them yes, but i think the secret of franky being cutty flam would’ve been kept even from him as again, it deals with the involvement of the blueprints. faro would’ve absolutely mourned franky’s “death”, ended up avoiding iceberg for a while as he tries to avoid the inevitable conversation they’d have as he tried to grapple with the lost. he’s someone that struggles to accept change or move on from a lot of things, he’s very sentimental to a fault and gets anxious easily </3 (it’s a big part as to why he likes marine life or the ocean in general, he admires how free it must feel to just go with the flow in life and take things as it comes, he tries to act chill and not let little things bother him but he just can’t help it haha) (also comes into play with my oc x canon ship for him but i won’t tell u abt that not unless you wanna haha cringe and all..)

I like to think franky absolutely would’ve felt bad about it, deceiving his own bro like that feels like something that’d totally go against his code, but both he and iceberg agrees it’s the safest option for faro. had he known about the secret identity would’ve absolutely put him on cp9’s radar as we saw play out when they tried to kill iceberg in the show for that reason. it’s why he bickers back with faro whenever they bump into each other, it’s probably easier for him to play up the persona of a crime boss and be mean back at faro than try to be sincere or be anything else with his lil bro <\3

during the events of the show, i think he would’ve been at the bull rental shop where the strawhats borrowed their bulls from and met the crew first there. after iceberg has his first assassination attempt, faro was there with the other shipwrights when they guarded his room, and was also there with paulie when the reveal of cp9 happened. he helped with crowd during the luffy and zoro search, and tho he initially wasn’t gonna join everyone to enies lobby, (as much as he wanted to avenge iceberg like paulie did, he thought very lowly of his abilities) he still stowed away with paulie and chimney as his concern for the franky family’s bulls beat out his anxiety haha. it’s my extra little hc that he helped treat the bulls when the franky fam first freed them from the sea king, even if faro and franky did not get along there’s no one else more suited when it comes to knowledge on bulls and faro’s willing to put aside their differences for any animals ^_^

as a close friend and work associate of iceberg, faro would’ve absolutely met the shipwrights, and thought of them as friends like iceberg and paulie did. probably shared his first drink with all of them when he came of age too…

for the aqua laguna, i thought back to that one filler where a baby bull got lost and trapped in the sewage systems. id imagine that wasn’t just a single case, with other bulls lost and/or hurt during the storm, so faro likely would’ve led a project to help people relocate their bulls and offer whatever help he can give like medical attention!! also any businesses that involved bulls like the rental shop, (or even any nonprofit bull pet organizations that the city might’ve had but we never see) he would help raise money for anyone who needs it as they care for the bulls. would absolutely involve iceberg on his efforts too, he’s almost like his unofficial secretary lol they’d be the best duo you could have to help run a city together <3

haha can you tell i love water 7??

my op oc faro if anyone cares 🤲

[faaun]

procrastination is starting to have its consequences finally

[unproduciblesmackdown]

has happened plenty around iconis goings on but what an all-timer

[spacejammie-eimmajecaps]

Fell back asleep for a while (still have a horrible headache btw) and I had the most disturbing dream that I'm going to tell you guys about in the tags

[reddevilmcnt]

Maksim could always tell the exact moment when Ross started to crack under his words. It showed in the way Ross’s blood began to race, his heart pounding several increments faster in uneven bursts that Maksim’s attuned ears could detect without very much effort at all. To be fair, a petty, twisted part of him lived for moments like this------- baiting Ross was far too satisfying, especially since the human seemed to take as much delight in provoking him. However, Maksim couldn’t quite understand why this time Ross had let his banter hit so easily. Ross’s particular brand of boring would eventually sync up with someone else's wants and needs, those belonging to the right mate for him. But then again, Maksim couldn’t forget the breakup Ross had mentioned once, something about a guy who got bored and did walk away. Of course, it was probably more complicated than that. Humans, fickle and treacherous as they were, did possess certain habits of picking up and discarding partners on a whim. But, maybe, it also could've been one of those slow, creeping implosions where the cracks of the relationship spread too gradually to notice until it was too late. Making 'boredom' the most simplified excuse to end it when the real reason could've been far more complex. Either way, Maksim didn’t really care. It wasn’t his problem, and he wasn’t cruel enough to use it against Ross. …Well, that wasn’t entirely true------- he was that much of a dick when he wanted to be. But he wasn’t in the mood to dig at sore spots tonight. That wasn’t why he was here. His penchant for malice had its uses, though it was vastly better spent on battles that mattered.

"Calm down and eat a taco," was all Maksim offered in response to Ross’s rising frustration, his tone deliberately casual and infuriatingly dismissive. Without waiting for a reply, he bit into his own taco, taking a massive bite that demolished half of it in one go. His eyes shot wide open as Ross’s abrupt confession registered, the words sinking in mid-chew. A jumbled snicker escaped him then, in an animalistic sound that made him seem every bit the mongrel people accused him of being, but he couldn’t stop himself. Ross was a riot, genuinely ridiculous in a way that tugged a grin from Maksim no matter how hard he tried to hold it back. At least he wasn’t stuck protecting a human with zero personality or humor. So, not so boring after all. Not that Maksim would ever tell him that. "Hmm... are schoolteachers allowed to say the word 'slutty'? What sort of vocabulary is that?" Maksim drawled, expression a chaotic mix of shit-eating grins and doggish amusement. He took a long drink from his vodka glass, downing it in one go before promptly pouring himself another. Alright, this wasn't... so bad. Not first or second date material (because that would never happen) but tolerable. Maksim frowned at the thought, annoyed that Ross could push his mind in that direction for even just a second. Nevertheless, there were far worse humans out there, ones who couldn’t hold his attention for even half a conversation. This was something. Not friendship, God, no, but civil tolerance. A hey, I won’t let you get murdered out there in the streets kind of vibe. About as close to 'friendly' as Maksim ever wishes to be with a non-werewolf. And for now, that was enough.

"Mmm, I'm always naked," he quips, flashing an infuriatingly arrogant, crooked smile. There’s no hint of a joke in his tone------ he’s entirely serious. "...Not at this very moment, obviously. I couldn't show up to my favorite teacher's apartment like that. What would the neighbors say?" Fuck the neighbors, but yeah, nakedness is pretty standard for a wolf, especially post-shapeshift. He's only returning playful fire.

Maksim doesn’t start feeling the cherry vodka until his fourth glass, a subtle euphoria blooming in his chest, nothing dramatic, just something to set him at ease. His body, always running hot, doesn’t change much outwardly, but the tightness in his massive shoulders melts away, leaving him loose and relaxed for once. A rare reprieve from the usual tightly-wound aggression or paranoia. Ross throws out another wildly inappropriate comment, and Maksim nearly loses it, almost tumbling out of his seat from laughing so hard. What the fuck? "I guess," he manages weakly, voice rough and scratchy as he struggles to catch his breath between laughing, gasping, and shoveling shrimp into his mouth. "If that’s what you need." And honestly, it probably is. Ross seems like someone who needs dick more than anyone Maksim’s ever met. Anything to shut him the fuck up and knock him out for a while. After Ross gives his two cents about blind dating, the Alpha hums thoughtfully, then shrugs his strong, wide-set shoulders. "Welp. Maybe I’ll go through with it------ just to see what my people really think of me." His smirk is all good-natured mischief as he grabs another shrimp and drags it through sauce, thoroughly leaning into his caveman table manners. "Maybe I’ll even try your method," he adds with a wolfish grin. "Get slutty drunk and see who takes dick the best." He pauses, mock-serious, then tilts his glass toward Ross. "Wow, I think I learned something today. You really are good at your job." He knows he’s tempting fate; this conversation is practically begging for a glass to get hurled at his head. Worth it, though.

"i'm not a stick in the mud just because i don't want to put on that tacky see-through shirt my friend got me and go get sweaty on a dance floor." ross puffs up immediately, feeling his face flush, some startling combination of anger and embarrassment at being so thoroughly called out. it isn't as if he's desperately trying to impress this guy, of all people, but he doesn't want his legacy in anyone's mind to be that he's a boring loser who likes to sit at home and read or put together a puzzle on the weekends with a cozy cup of tea.

even if that's exactly what he is.

thrill and fun are great things, he enjoys them on occasion, but ross never wanted to be a dangerous guy, never wants to fuck himself over just to chase a few minutes of frivilous fun.

maybe he's boring. maybe he's the kind of nerdy guy that it's fun to hook up with for a while, because he's always thrilled and enthuiastic for his partners, but he's too boring to take out. maybe maksim has him wildly overthinking this.

all of those can be true.

hands curl around the glass that's been poured and left on the table, and he only hesitates for a split second of looking at the clear liquid before he lifts it and downs it like a madman. the burn is immediate and apparent. wild in his chest, blooming and warming his face like he's sitting next to a fire. "if you ask my friends, the answer is slutty." the glass is placed on the counter again, and he offers a little smirk, a hand coming up to lightly pull at his shirt, let a little airflow cool his still warming chest. "i'm a slutty drunk who'd be on his knees the moment someone told him to. so you're right, probably shouldn't overdo it. unless you wanna get naked in my kitchen again?" and he lets his eyebrows dance a little before the smile cracking his stoic expression crack through.

his body rests against the counter and he grabs a nacho to pop into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully. he's decided not to comment on the 'nagging little wife' thing, if only because there's some fundamental part of him that knows that maksim is right. even if he doesn't want to admit it to the cocky fuck. instead, he shrugs his shoulders. "maybe. i'll have to start getting slutty drunk and figure out what dick fucks me the best, go from there." his eyes roll, but expression shifts thoughtfully when the man starts speaking again, humming softly, listening. then his head shakes. "nah. i don't really think blind dating works. i mean, it's awkward as hell, you're just showing up to a place, and there's someone waiting for you, and it really gives insight into what the people setting you up think about you, about who you should be with. and i think starting on a back foot like that is just begging to make it impossible for some kind of real connection. and that's what finding love is all about anyway, right? real connection."