#like the weekend got labeled immediately and didn’t even show up in the tags

[chryblossomjjk]

going to be writing all day today. am finding intrinsic values in writing again so the inevitable community label won’t kill my motivation again lol. tbh this piece is v much a fun personality piece lol like it legit just full of my type of humor n is full of anime references n yeah lol so im thinking it won’t be a long write like the weekend was!!! also i think u guys will love this jk. he is v relatable and endearing and different from the other jk’s. like he’s not dom n confident like imagine jk. he’s not free n charismatic like practice jk. he’s not cynical and parasitic like the weekend jk. he’s for everyone still struggling to find their footing in relationships, friendships, and just adulthood in general 🤧🥹🤧💗🥹🤧💗 love him dearly lol

[h2bakugou]

hitoshi x reader where denki and reader have been friends their whole lives, and after introducing the two, both hitoshi and y/n start going to denki about their feelings for each other and how much they struggle

denki eventually gets sick of it and starts finding different ways to get them together (eventually ending with them being like "oh i didn't think you liked me" and finally dating

maybe a bonus scene of denki's reaction to seeing them together and being like "hecking finally"

- 🪶

a/n: hii love!! this is a really cute idea omg i love this sm <3 i hope you enjoy it!!

summary: denki's been your childhood friend since, well childhood. when he introduces you to a certain lavendar-haired boy, you find yourself opening up to denki about your crush, and so does someone else.

key: (y/n) - your name / (f/n) - first name / (l/n) - last name / (e/c) - eye color / (h/c) - hair color / (y/q) - your quirk

warnings: swearing, fluff

word count: 2.1k

;cut for length;

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The electric blonde has been your childhood friend for years. You grew up together, you told each other pretty much everything. There was the occasional talk about crushes, boys, girls, and whatever else you could talk about while growing up.

You'd always been there for each other, and now you were both attending U.A., and being in the same class had been proven to be a bit of a task for Mr. Aizawa.

The day had pretty much just started, and Denki had asked you to come with him on your first break. You were almost always hanging out with him anyway, so you were a bit confused as to why he'd wanted you to come with him.

"Hitoshi!" Denki called out, alerting both you and the lavender-haired boy of your presence.

"Oh, hi Kami-" Hitoshi falls silent as he stares at the person beside Denki. You.

Shinso feels the world stop for a few seconds as he stares at you. He's honestly speechless.

Much like you are. You'd heard about this boy now that you've heard his name, and staring at him, you can feel your heart swell in your chest. He's so handsome.

"I thought I would introduce you two! Maybe we could all go hang out together this weekend since we won't have classes." Denki's sudden plans that would include this cute boy makes your face heat up. You begin to feel self-conscious, flattening your uniform, or tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as you glance at Denki.

"We're off for once?" You question.

"Yeah! We could go do laser tag, or watch a movie in my dorm?" Denki offers, grinning. His intentions had been pure, just wanting to introduce two friends.

"Oh, I totally forgot! Hitoshi, this is (Y/n), (Y/n) this is-"

"Hitoshi, Shinso." Hitoshi speaks up, and your heart throbs in your chest at the sound of his voice. It's oddly charming. And so is the soft scent of sage and teakwood that surrounds him. It had to be his cologne, whatever it was though, you enjoyed it.

"It's nice to meet you." You speak up, extending a hand to shake. Shinso glanced own before placing his palm in yours, giving you a gentle handshake. His touch is electrifying and sends sparks coursing through your veins as you pull away.

"Yeah." Shinso looks back at Kaminari, who's beaming at him, a shit-eating grin on his lips. Kaminari was reading Shinso like a book.

"Well, we've got to get back to classes! We'll talk our plans over later!"

And with that, Kaminari is yanking you back down the hall, running to make it back to class on time.

During lunch, your phone pings, signaling you've been added to a group chat. You immediately recognize Kaminari's number, his contact labeled 'kami :D' popping up followed an unknown number.

who's that?

The number asks. You see Kaminari typing a response.

It's (y/n) dummy, add them into your contacts🙄🙄

You realize this number must be Shinso, so you decide to type a reply.

it's shinso right? i'll add u too ^^

You quickly add Shinso's contact into your phone and put a purple heart beside his name. Kaminari glances over at your phone and giggles.

"A heart already? You just met!" Kaminari teases and you're plastering your hand over his mouth to keep him from speaking too loud.

"Shut up! I just think he's sweet! Besides do we need to talk about your contact info for-"

"Okay! Okay!" Kaminari quickly shushes you, not wanting his current crush to find out about whatever their contact info is.

A few days go by, and after your hangout session with Kaminari and Shinso, you find yourself falling for him more and more.

But Shinso is the one that drops the first hint to Kaminari.

"So is (Y/n) seeing anyone?" Shinso asks, helping Kaminari clean his cartilage piercing.

"What like romantically?" Kaminari asks, sitting up with his ear turned to face Shinso while his cold fingers brushed against his ear.

"Yes, you idiot. Do they have like a boyfriend or girlfriend?" Shinso asks. He's nervous.

"Nope! (Y/n) hasn't talked to me about a crush or anything. They're always showing me these fictional people though. Why? You know someone that likes them~" Kaminari wiggles his brows at the purple-haired boy.

"Shut up. 'm just askin'." Shinso is finally done with the cotton swab and tosses it before letting Kaminari go, his fresh piercing all clean.

Suddenly a knock on the door pulls them away from the conversation and Kaminari is on his toes opening it to reveal you in some goofy pajamas.

"I'm ready for pizza and mario-" Your face contorts in horror as you stare at Shinso on his bed, out of uniform in something dark and mysterious, a loose dark plaid button-up and dark jeans.

"Nevermind! Sorry for bugging you!" You yell and run back to your dorm, hiding your face in embarrassment.

"Wait! I wanted pizza!" Kaminari calls out to you in the hallway but you don't turn around.

Shinso's face is red when Kaminari turns back to look at him.

You looked so cute, and so effortlessly- You weren't trying to impress anyone, yet you looked stunning. In nothing but some silly matching pajamas that Denki most likely had a pair to match, you looked so cute.

"You didn't tell me you ate pizza and played Mario Kart..." Shinso says, faking hurt in his sentence.

"Oh shut up! Go to their dorm and see if they wanna come back up, I'll get it set up." Denki sighs.

Shinso's on the move, making his way to your dorm thanks to Kaminari's excellent directions. Knocking on your door, he feels nervous, anxious even. His heart's pounding in his chest and then cool air washes over him as you open your door.

"Kami I'm sorry I-" You freeze as you stared at the boy in front of you.

"Ohmygod." You say quietly, quickly hiding yourself behind your door.

"Hi!!" You speak up, glancing at him from behind your door.

"Why are you hiding behind your door?" Shinso asks, a small smile on his lips.

"Your pj's are cute."

It echoes in your head, over. and over. and over again.

Your pj's are cute.

You slowly reveal yourself and look away.

"So, did Kami send you down here?" You ask quietly.

"He did, he wants you to come back up, and if it's alright with you, I'd like to hang out too, though I don't have any cool pj's to wear."

Shinso's voice calms you down, though your heart still seems to beat faster and faster.

"I actually, um, hang on. You can come in!" You allow him into your dorm, and he doesn't decline.

He glances around, admiring the pictures of you and Kami. He giggles about how silly young Denki looks with his hair all crazy and spiked up.

"You guys have been friends for a while it looks."

"Since kindergarten! He shocked me on accident, and when he apologized, we just sorta clicked. Been besties ever since." You search through your drawers and eventually find a kitty onesie that was a bit too big for you.

"I think this should fit you."

"It's kitty onesie, though you don't have to wear it!"

"Did you say kitty?" Shinso's ears perk up and you nod. He graciously takes it and the two of you leave to return to Denki. Shinso changes in his bathroom.

It smells like you, and Shinso has to stop himself from smelling the hood every five seconds as he leaves. You just smell so sweet, it's kind of alarming how soothing it is.

You all play and it's a great night, until Denki decides to play a scary movie after. You're sandwiched between the boys but begin to doze off about halfway through the movie.

Your head leans on Shinso's shoulder while you doze off, and he notices right away. He glances at Kaminari who only gives him a reassuring wink.

"You're stupid." Shinso whispers.

"They like to cuddle~" Kaminari suggests.

Shinso graciously lays an arm over you, hugging you to his chest as you readjust in your sleep. You're so warm, and Shinso begins to doze off too.

When you wake up in the morning, you've been covered up by a fuzzy blanket, but the warmth radiating under you is the most alarming.

Your sleepy eyes open to see the purple-haired boy you have a crush on, under you. Your eyes widen but you don't move away. Instead, you lay back down, not wanting to wake him.

His arm rests around you, and his breathing is so calming. It lulls you back to sleep.

You don't talk about that night much afterward, until you're knocking on Kami's door at one in the morning after a bad dream.

"Is Shinso single?" You ask quietly.

"Yeah, why ya askin' me though?" Kaminari hugs you, your head resting on his shoulder.

"I'm too nervous to ask him." You giggle.

"So you like him?"

"Yeah. He's really sweet, and super cute too." You admit, pulling away to stare at your best friend.

"I'm totally not his type though."

"I'm going to beat you up." Kaminari jokes. You shake your head and laugh.

"He's gotta be into like super hardcore goth punk rock-"

"You're so oblivious." Kaminari interrupts you. You roll your eyes and get comfortable on the edge of his bed, snuggling with one of his plushies.

"Just go to sleep, you idiot." You throw another plushy at him.

"You're in my dorm! I can and will kick you out." Denki huffs.

"As if. You need my snoring as your white noise." You tease him.

"You're so mean to me." Denki pouts.

By the same time next week, Denki's heard Shinso's confession about his crush on you, and every little detail about what both of you had to say about the other.

And Denki was honestly tired of it, endearingly of course. So he was setting you two up.

"I need you to meet me here at two. Wear something cute." Is what the text had said. You repeated it as you put together a cute outfit.

Shinso had received the same text and was just wearing something casual like he usually did.

However, when you both spotted each other and not Denki, you began to realize what was happening.

"He's not coming, is he?" You spoke softly, staring at the attractive boy in front of you.

"I guess not." Shinso looks over at the cafe you're standing outside. It's a cat cafe.

"Well, if you're not busy, wanna grab a bite to eat?" Shinso offers, nodding toward the cafe.

"I'd really like that, actually. Thank you." You smile. He offers his hand and you take it gracefully, smiling at how warm it is.

Shinso's phone pings halfway through your piece of cake with a message from Kaminari.

nows ur chance dude, ask them out

Shinso swallows his fear and looks up at you. You're so beautiful, even all dressed up, you look adorable.

You're petting an all-white kitty that's laying in your lap.

"Hey, (Y/n)?" Shinso gets your attention.

"Mhm?" You hum, smiling at him.

"Do you wanna, maybe do this again sometime?" He asks, a blush on his cheeks.

"Like, as a date?" You ask, your own face heating up.

"Yeah. As a date, and as a couple." He glances over at a pretty black cat that begins to nudge your arm for a few pets as well.

"I'd like that." You smile, your heart swelling.

"Then it's settled."

Afterward, neither of you can contain your excitement. Walking back to the dorm with your hand in his, Kaminari is elated.

"Finally." He sighs.

"Finally?!" You both say in unison.

"You should've confessed the day you met. I had to listen to you two being sappy about one another for two weeks straight."

Both you and Shinso feel flustered at Kaminari's comment.

"But it's okay. I love you two so I'll tolerate it. But you two better get along or no more pizza and Mario Kart. You'll have to deal with Bakugou, and I don't think you'll enjoy buying a new controller every time you want to play."

Kaminari was genuinely happy to see you both together, and both be happy.

"Thanks, for you know." You nudge him while sitting on his bed, Shinso was gone, using the bathroom.

"What are you talking about. I didn't help. You two just finally confessed. You did that on your own."

"Yeah but, you made me feel confident about it." You smile.

"That's what I'm here for!" Kaminari smiles.

You couldn't ask for a better friend, or a better boyfriend.

»»————-　★　————-««

masterlist

[vibraniumwing]

my stars know about you.

a sam wilson x fem!reader blurb wherein sam finds the old videos the reader has when he was snapped away.

WARNING: a bit of angst and tfatws spoilers for those who haven't watched but aside from that, nothing else.

A/N: ha yes hello i impulsively wrote this bcs my muse was so high all of a sudden and i have this monologue ready for it. listened to this playlist right here and wendy ft. john legend’s written in the stars <3 also, is this still a blurb ??

---

Sam had promised you he would clean around the house while you go on a fun little weekend with Sarah and the boys, wanting to give you more time to relax and be around his family; his lips churning up into a small yet giddy smile at the thought of the small velvet box hiding somewhere in your shared room that contained the necklace you’ve been eyeing whenever the two of you could go out.

He was half-way done with the things hidden in your work drawer when he came across a flash drive that had a label written on it called visual diary. His brows furrowed lightly as walked to his side of the office, opening his laptop and plugged it in, opening the files to see multiple videos titled with dates, the first one from all the way back in 2018.

Sam shifted in his seat, clicking on that certain video only to be greeted by your tear-stained face and bloodshot eyes, under eyes dark from the possible lack of sleep. His heart dropped at the distraught look on your face as you took a deep breath in before looking into the camera.

“hey sam, it’s me. it’s一 it’s been exactly five days since Nat called me about how you were one of the people who, unfortunately, got snapped into non-existence.”

The way you spoke caused goosebumps to form along his skin, realizing that these were probably videos you'd made five years ago, when the snap happened. Sam’s heart was shattered at how lost you looked from the other side of the screen, wanting nothing more than to cradle you in his arms.

“I’m with Sarah right now, she’s sleeping in her room with Aj and Cass. She’s been strong, but you can see the worry in her eyes一 she’s holding up much better than I am though. I’ve been such a mess, I can’t look into the mirror without seeing… feeling you beside me. I miss you.”

Sam stopped the video, his own tears starting to choke him upon seeing the state that you and his younger sister have been. He knew that it was hard, after seeing Sarah struggle with the family business and keeping things together; seeing you wake up at night with cold sweat glistening on your skin as you jolted up from yet another nightmare of him not coming back.

He wanted to stop from diving deep into the videos but his curiosity was stronger. He scrolled through some more videos, randomly clicking on one.

This time, Sam was greeted with a somewhat cheery you, out on the hill you first confessed your attraction to him一 the same night he admitted that he loves you more than a friend, where everything started between the both of you.

“hey there, handsome. i surely hope you can recognize where i’m at right now, if not, then i guess i’m kicking your ass.”

He chuckled, finding your humor amusing despite how lackluster your tone was as you spoke into the camera. Sam reached up to trace your features that were present on his screen, remembering every single feature of yours, engraving it into the forefront of his mind.

“today’s the day we’re supposed to celebrate our first anniversary, sammy. we should’ve been in hawaii by now, swimming with the fishes or explore the beauty of that island. instead, i’m here, in my car alone on the hill where we first admitted our feelings for each other.”

Sam didn’t fail to notice how you were trying your best to hold back your tears, taking note of how your tongue poked the inside of your cheek一 a habit he noticed you would do whenever fighting strong emotions一 and he whispered a small, “Don’t hold your tears back, sweetheart.” and as if you heard him, you let out a small chuckle.

“if you were here right now, i know you would say something like, “don’t bottle those tears up, beautiful” or something along those lines. i want you to know that i’m trying, sam. but it’s hard, it’s been five long months since you’ve been gone and i don’t know how long i can last without hearing you say you love me or your obnoxious laughter that would resonate through the house.”

“I love you, baby.” was all that left Sam’s lips, tongue jutting out to dampen his lips as he listened to you speak, mind blank as too many thoughts about what he wants to say to you as of the moment are too much.

“i’ve told the stars about your laughter. it’s niche and cliche, i know, but mom told me to tell them all about the people i treasure the most whenever i can’t tell others about them.”

“i told them about how beautiful you are一 about how scintillating your eyes are that they could battle even the brightest star in the sky tonight. i let my stars know about how amazing of a chef you are even though you almost burnt my old apartment’s kitchen down because you forgot about the cake you tried so hard to bake.”

Sam cringed at the memory, nose scrunching up in disbelief that he could forget such a simple task; he spent the night apologizing and all you ever did was smile and lean in to give him a kiss in hopes to shut him up.

“i told my stars about how brilliant you are一 how your words are so deep even with the shortest sentences, about how you can easily captivate me and a bunch of others with the stories that you speak… about how much love you have for me and for everyone you care for. it never ceases to amaze me how you can stand up and fight for the people that you love.”

At this point, Sam was already in tears as you shared about how you spoke about him. He adored how your eyes were filled with that well-known fondness you have whenever you speak about something you love.

As the video ended, Sam was left to look at the reflection of himself on the screen, staring at his reflection as your words echoed in his mind. He always listened to you ramble on about how everyone’s destiny was written somewhere in the skies, their lives aligned like the constellations that shined bright in the nighttime.

Normally, he would brush it off, skeptic to that belief but as he tuned into your stories, he can’t help but believe that in what you were saying. Sam was about to play another video when he heard the familiar jangle of your keys in the front door.

Sam pulled out of his chair and raced over there to meet you, immediately engulfing you in a tight hug before you could even close the door. “Hello, beautiful.” he softly greeted, pulling away to place a light kiss on your temple. “How was your weekend away with Sarah and the boys?”

You chuckled softly at the sudden affection he was giving, dropping your duffel bag on the floor to wrap your arms around his torso, feeling how relaxed he was against you. “It was great! Could’ve been better if you were there to be with us.” you answered, reaching up to peck his lips a few times, making the latter smile. “What’s with the affection? Did you break something, Samuel? Wait一 were you crying?”

He shook his head, adamant in admitting that he was, he lifted you up easily as he took you over to your shared office, sitting back down on his office chair with you in his lap as he showed you the compilation of the videos, “I… I found the flash drive while cleaning and I got a little too curious and decided to see what was on it and well, turns out I got a bit more than what I expected.”

“I was going to show them to you one day, Sam.” you admitted, making yourself comfortable as you snuggled up to him, his arms laced around you securely. “But I wanted to make it a bit more… special since this was a very vulnerable time for me.” the softness in your voice made him curl a single digit under your chin to make you look at him.

“I’m sorry that I left you alone for that long, baby girl.” Sam apologized, feeling incredibly guilty for leaving. Despite knowing it wasn’t his fault, he couldn’t bring himself to accept that you and his sister had to spend so many years without him. “I know you’ve told me multiple times that I shouldn’t say sorry, but I can’t help it. You’ve waited for so long.”

“And I’ll wait a million more if it meant I could be with you.” you cut him off, shifting slightly to make you face him completely. “You can go anywhere, anytime, for how long and I would wait for you to come back every single time. So please don’t feel guilty about it, love.” your hands holding the sides of his face as you start to pepper it with gentle kisses.

You smile at his peaceful expression, “My heart is in peace knowing that we’re written somewhere in the stars.” you say to him softly, squishing his cheeks in a playful manner, light laughter filling up the room.

Sam smiled, sealing the feather-like kisses with his lips on yours, capturing it for an intimate one that conveyed how much love he has for you, resting his forehead on yours right after. “You know that I love you, right Y/N?”

“I do and I love you so much more, Sam.”

---

TAGLIST: @https-bvcky @harrysweasleys @selenasprompts @weasleytwins-41 @anchoeritic @marvel-diaries @demirunner @barneswidow @lovecroftreads @punkrific @6r4cie @yougottalovefandoms @swiftssss

to those whose urls are in bold, i can't tag you for some reason. join my taglist! it's in my main main masterlist <3

[tinyboxxtink]

"Weird Secret Friends" *Chapter 7*

Chapter 6

Chapter 8

I swear you guys I never know where these are gonna go, and then a plot just starts coming out itself. It's...starting to get dark, I won't lie to you. But not like-- super dark, no assault or anything. Just be wary reading this chapter, kay? Especially if you have any addiction issues.

Tag List

@madamsnape921

@lolliepopsicle

@chasingeverybreakingwave

@milkshqke

@wanniiieeee

@word-scribbless

@gibbs274

@sassyada

@aprildecker-blog

@bookishfanfic

@stars-in-the-skies-world

@stars-trash-18

@omgsuperstarg

@objection-argumentative

@thatesqcrush

@shittanyy

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

A few hours later Rafael’s alarm went off, causing you to groan and pull a pillow over your head.

“It’s Saturday,” You whined. “Why do you have an alarm set on a Saturday?!”

“Lo siento, amante,” He leaned over and turned it off, then pulled you closer into him as he nuzzled your neck. “I have to go in today,”

“On a Saturday?!” You repeated yourself.

“It’s what grown ups do, carino,” He chuckled, to which you promptly turned to face him.

“And what is that supposed to mean?” You frowned at him.

“Nothing, amor,” He assured you. “I was only joking,”

“...Were you, though?” You narrowed your eyes.

“You’re not a morning person, are you?” He was still chuckling with a sleepy grin.

“Not when I’m being insulted I’m not!” You now sat up, completely unamused by his flippant remarks.

“Y/N,” He sat up as well, putting a hand on your shoulder and stroking your hair with the other. “I really was joking. You know if we’re going to...spend time together, you should really get used to my snarky sense of humor,”

“Oh should I?” You crossed your arms.

“Yes,” He nodded, his smile never leaving his face.

“....And what exactly do you mean by ‘spending time together’?” You raised an eyebrow.

“...Well, I don’t know, do you really want to label...this, right this second?” He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, now finally reaching an annoyed point.

“...No,” You replied softly while you picked at a loose thread on the comforter.

“Okay, well--” He started to kiss you, but you put a hand over his mouth.

“Uh uh, Romeo,” You shook your head. “If we’re going to ‘spend time together’, you should know I don’t kiss before brushing,”

“Noted,” He chuckled once more as he kissed the top of your forehead. “If you need a label, I think we stick to ‘weird secret friends,’

“Well I don’t know if that applies anymore,” You sighed. “Considering we are no longer secret and I don’t think friends sleep with each other,”

“Well then we’re still weird, are we not?” He pointed out.

“Ha Ha,” You rolled your eyes. “So friend, what am I supposed to do while you’re at work?”

“....Talk to Sonny?” He asked as he got out of the bed.

“Oh, great idea!” You feigned excitement. “I’ll be sure to really twist the knife in his back this time,”

“You’re so dramatic,” He shook his head with a smile. “Just talk to him,”

“There’s no point Rafael,” You objected. “Unless I stop seeing you, he’ll never forgive me,”

“Well first of all, I seriously doubt that’s true,” He disagreed. ��And second of all, he’s going to be hurt whether we continue...seeing each other, or not. The bottom line is he’s upset he’ll never be with me,”

“...Does everything just lead back to you, counselor?” You asked him while he began to get dressed.

“Basically,” He teased while pulling on his pants.

“Look, you can call me selfish or arrogant, or cold hearted all you want,” He told you. “But just because you stand there in your moral ivory tower doesn’t mean you don’t feel the same way. You just don’t want to act on them,” He disappeared into his bathroom to brush his teeth.

“I’m sorry, and why is that a bad thing?” You called from his bed, an insulted tone obvious in your voice.

“Because it’s your life, Y/N!” He exclaimed as he reemerged from the bathroom, giving you a serious look. “It’s not mine, it’s not Sonny’s. You don’t have any responsibility for anyone else’s happiness but your own,”

“Well hurting my cousin doesn’t make me happy!”

“And being with me doesn’t either?” He asked with his own hurt tone while he buttoned his dress shirt. Your long pause made him stop and look at you, your head was looking at the floor in shame. “Y/N?”

“....It makes me the happiest I’ve probably been in my entire life,” You admitted, making him grin like a Cheshire cat. He finished buttoning his shirt and then walked backed towards the bed, wrapping you in his arms.

“Back at you, killer,” He pressed his forehead against yours before kissing you long a deep, crawling onto the bed. You began kissing for maybe a minute, then suddenly it dawned on him he still needed to go to work.

“Well, this might be a problem,” He pulled back from you and walked back to his closet now speeding up his routine. He grabbed his tie and began tying it quickly.

“...What is?” You looked at him quizzically.

“You’re clearly a distraction, amante,” He gave you a mischievous grin.

“Well I’ve been called worse,” You shrugged.

“I’m sure you have,” He teased.

“Hey!” You tossed a pillow at him, he dodged it effortlessly.

“Alright killer, I promise I'll be right back,” He grabbed his suit jacket and started to walk out of the bedroom. You trailed behind him, still stark naked.

“You sure you wanna leave all….this?” You presented yourself with an evil smile.

“Oh you are...you are diabolical, woman,” He eyed you up and down, kicking himself for making this meeting today of all days.

“Mmmhmm…” You raised your long leg up until it was right next to your face, reminding him how flexible you were.

“No,” He bit his fist. “No no no, I must go,” He shook his head and bolted out the door. You stared at it, shocked by his immediate departure. How rude! You scoffed and turned to go back to the bedroom to get dressed, just as the door swung open and Rafael rushed in, grabbing your naked body in a heated kiss.

“Okay, now I seriously have to go,” He sighed while taking a mental picture of your perfectly toned body.

“Fine,” You pouted. “See if I’m here when you get back,”

“Oh you better be,” He warned with a cheeky smile, walking back out the door and leaving you alone once again.

You quickly realized you might not have a choice to avoid Sonny, seeing as all you had were your still damp clothes from the night before. You grabbed them and tossed them in Rafael’s dryer while you paced the apartment in the t-shirt and boxers from the night before.

What would you say? What could you say?

-------

Later that day

You pulled up in front of Sonny’s apartment building and exited your Uber, thanking the driver before she drove away. You sighed and walked up to the stoop, ringing his box. There was a long silence, before you heard a woman’s voice:

“Hello? Sonny’s apartment,”

Who the hell was that?

“Um, yeah hi,” You stammered, completely taken aback by the turn of events. “I-I’m here for Sonny? It’s Y/N, his cousin…”

“Aw shit,” You heard Sonny’s voice muffled, before the buzzing of the door to let you inside. You walked into the building and headed up the stairs towards his apartment. As you reached his floor, you saw a blonde woman bolting out of his door, zooming past you and down the stairs. You looked at her for a moment before turning to stare at Sonny who just stood in the doorway.

“....And who was that?” You asked him curiously.

“Nobody, just a friend,” He dismissed you.

“A friend?” You half laughed. “Must be quite the friend,”

“You’re one to talk, with your stupid sneaky friends BS,” He snarked.

“...Weird secret friends,” You clarified in a small voice.

“Really, Y/N?” He asked you, unamused.

“Okay I’m sorry, you’re right--”

“Did you need something?” He crossed his arms as he leaned on his doorway.

“I um...I wanted to talk…”

“Did you now?”

“....And I need my clothes,” You gestured to the ‘walk of shame’ outfit you were still wearing.

“Ohhhh I see I see,” He nodded with a sarcastic laugh. “You needed your stuff so you can continue the sleepover with the honorable ADA?”

“Sonny--”

“Whatever, Y/N. I don’t wanna hear it. Just-- hold on,” He waved his hands in front of you as he disappeared into his apartment, his door slamming in your face. Soon he reappeared with your bag in tow, shoving it in your hands.

“There ya go, enjoy your weekend,” He started to shut the door but you put your foot in it.

“Sonny I’m not leaving until you hear me out,”

“...Fine,” He sighed and opened the door wider, letting you enter. You walked past him and sat on his couch. He walked to the couch and grabbed two beers, handing one to you as he sat on his armchair next to you.

“I um--” You started to say something, but you really needed it right now. Unfortunately, Sonny quickly realized his mistake and took yours back.

"Sorry, I forgot Sunshine," He apologized and grabbed a soda bottle from the fridge this time, and handed it to you.

“So,” He twisted the cap off his beer and took several big gulps, dreading this conversation already. “Talk,”

“Oh,” You hadn’t expected that. You hadn’t even expected to get in the door, let alone having to make some kind of speech.

Sonny knew that look in your eyes, the same look you had when you had forgotten the words to your song in your middle school talent show.

“Seriously, Y/N?” He shook his head with another sarcastic laugh. “You didn’t have anything prepared to say?”

“Well!” You took another swig of your soda

“You’re unbelievable, you know that?” “You just show up here, chase off Amanda, and--”

“Amanda?” You quirked an eyebrow.

“Irrelevant, Sunshine,”

“Right…”

“And you don’t even have a defense ready for your boyfriend?” He finished his thought.

“He’s not my boyfriend!” You objected.

“Damn straight he’s not!” He agreed.

“....What is that supposed to mean?” You narrowed your eyes.

“Let me ask you something, Sunshine,” He put down his beer. “You slept together last night, right?”

“...Yeah,” You answered cautiously.

“And then this morning-- tell me, what did he do?”

“...Well he had to go into work," You pushed a strand of hair behind your ear nervously. You didn’t like where this was going.

"Uh huh" Sonny nodded with a smile.

“He DID” You insisted.

“Right, and did you guys even discuss what happens now?” He kept questioning you.

“Wha? We're not teenagers Sonny,” You rolled your eyes as you took bigger sips of your soda, wishing it was harder stuff. You didn’t like this at all.

“But you're not wondering? At All?”

“….We decided not to label it right now,” You answered softly, looking at the floor. You didn’t know why you were suddenly so nervous about that answer. Weren’t you the one who didn’t want to label it yet?

“Did you decide it or did he decide that?” Sonny read your mind, freaking you out even more.

“What are you doing?” You slammed the bottle on the table. You're upset I "stole" Rafael from you so now you're trying to get in my head?”

“No!” He protested. “But I know how he is, sunshine. I didn't want you involved with him solely because I...have a thing for him, he said the last uncomfortably. It's because I know how...frivolous he can be with relationships,”

“Oh my god,” You rolled your eyes with a laugh. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

“I’m not fucking with you, sunshine!” He slammed his empty beer on the table angrily. “I’m serious,”

“Oh I’m sure you’re serious,” You nodded, still keeping your sarcastic tone.

“Look Sunshine,” He put a hand on your knee while lowering his voice to a softer, caring tone. “You can make excuses all you want. But I think you know me better than that. I wouldn’t tell you anything I didn’t explicitly believe,”

“...Yeah, I know,” You nodded in agreement, knowing he was right. He always looked out for your best interest, ever since you were a kid.

“So...will you at least think about what I’m saying?”

“What are you saying, Sonny?”

“I’m saying be careful, Sunshine,” He looked at you earnestly. “He can get bored very easy, and very fast,”

You thought to yourself that he couldn’t get tired of the ‘best sex of his life’ that quickly, but you’d never say that out loud to Sonny. Not unless you wanted him to have an aneurysm right in front of you. But then again, would you want him to want you around just for the sex, right?

“...I gotta go Son,” You glanced at your phone. “I promised him I’d be waiting for him when he gets home,”

“Seriously?” Sonny shook his head with yet another sarcastic laugh. “Damn Sunshine, you let him start working you fast,”

“Shut up,” You muttered uneasily as you got up from the couch and started to head out.

“Sunshine, one more thing,” He followed you to the door, you paused in the doorway to listen.

“Yes, Sonny?”

“...You know you always have a place here,” He gave you a big hug, you had missed this. You hugged him back tightly before pulling back and giving him a sincere smile.

“I know, Son,” You kissed him on the cheek and then began walking down the hall as he shut the door behind you.

He was just being his overprotective self….right?

---------

It was around eight that Rafael finally came back to the apartment. He found you stewing on the couch, half of his good vodka was gone.

“Uh….honey, I’m home?” He asked warily.

“Oh, are you?” You rolled your eyes, not bothering to get up,

“...What’s wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with me?” You scoffed. “What happened to “I’ll be right back?”

“...Stuff came up,” He mumbled.

“Seriously?” You half laughed. “Sonny was right,”

“Excuse me?” He took off his jacket and hung it up.

“I went to go get my stuff from Sonny’s,” You gestured to your own clothes you now had on. “And he told me to be careful with you,”

“Careful with me?” He laughed. “Like I’m breakable?”

“No!” You stood up. “Like you break other people,”

“Oh come on Y/N,” He rolled his eyes as he met you halfway in the living room. “Doesn’t that just sound like something he’d say to deter you from me?”

“He wasn’t saying it like that, Rafael,” You shook your head and crossed your arms. “He’s looking out for me, like he always has,”

“And what else did he say?” He eyed you suspiciously.

“He said…” You looked up at the ceiling. It was starting to swirl a bit, you rocked back and forth. Rafael noticed and quickly put both hands on your shoulders, knocking you from your daze.

“Y/N!” He cried as he led you back to the couch and sat you down. “Jesus, is this what you do when you’re upset?”

“...No,” You lied. You were in no shape and nowhere near close enough to him to start revealing dark secrets about yourself. You really should have thought that through. You had to recover from this, you didn’t want him to know.

“Are you sure about that?” He raised a questionable eyebrow, not believing you for a second.

“...This isn’t about me, this is about how you get bored of women-- and men, I assume,”

“What?” He blinked in confusion. “Is that what Carisi said?”

“Maybe,” You grabbed the glass of vodka and started to sip it, but Barba snatched it out of your hand.

“I think you’ve had enough of that,” He told you, his concern growing more by the second the more he looked at you.

“Great,” You muttered, focusing on the TV.

“Hey, Hey!” Rafael snapped at you. “We’re not done talking,”

“Alright, fine,” You turned off the TV. “You wanna talk? Tell me about the t-shirt,”

“...I’m not having this conversation with you when you’re like this,” He shook his head and stood up to go to his bedroom.

“You’re the one who said you wanted to talk, Rafael!” You threw your hands up. “So let’s talk about it-- or even better, let’s talk about the drawer full of girl’s clothes you have,”

“You went through my drawers?!” He snapped. “What the hell is wrong with you?!”

“Are they mementos? Gifts? Trophies?” You stood up, wobbling towards him.

“Trophies?” He scoffed while putting his hands over his face in frustration. “God dammit Y/N...I…”

“You what?” You crossed your arms, steadying yourself.

“I can't deal with...this,” He gestured to you.

“With what?” You suddenly felt a wave of dread. You’d seen that look before. Many, many times. From many, many people.

“With THIS, with YOU,” He walked up to you and walked you back to the couch.

“You’re clearly more fucked up than I thought, and I-- I can’t be your emotional support fuck buddy,” He went on as he grabbed a pillow and blanket from a closet.

“Wow...wow,” You felt tears choking your throat. “So that’s what I am, a fuck buddy?”

“I don’t--- I don’t know,” He rubbed his face, sitting down on the couch next to you.

“Really? Because twelve hours ago you were sitting here and telling me that- that I meant something to you,” You started to cry.

“You do!” He put a hand to your face. “You...you do, I just…” He looked at your sorry state. “I don’t know what to do with you,” Rafael was kicking himself for getting you both in this mess; he wasn’t equipped to deal with someone so unstable. Maybe it was a one time thing, a fluke.

“Look just-- just sleep it off and we’ll talk about it tomorrow, okay?”

“I don’t…” You whimpered. “I don’t want to,”

“Well, we have to talk about it--”

“No,” You stopped him. “I don’t want to sleep it off in here, alone,” You gestured to the couch, the bed he clearly had made for you to sleep in.

“I…” He sighed, finally conceding and picking you up to carry you to his bed.

“Alright baby, alright,” He placed you on his bed and laid down next to you until you fell asleep, then he got up and went into the living room, kicking a pillow across the floor in rage and upset, falling against the wall with his head in between his knees.

What the fuck did he get himself into?

[gingerale2017]

I Still Feel This Way

(AU Day!)

Cresswell - Day 3 of cresswell ship weeks

Modern tech shop AU

A/N: I finally did a fix for cresswell week. Its rushed and crappy, sorry in advance.

Cress stared at the laptop she was supposed to fix. It had come down with a bad virus and froze completely. It also had a cracked Cinder had to deal with that later. The owner of it definitely does not know who to take care of their belongings.

Sighing, she checked the post it note on the back of the laptop labeling the damages.

Virus, cracked screen, buttons don’t work, USB port broken.

Do people just not know how to take care of technology or is it just this person?!

She rubbed her eyes. What she needed was another coffee. What was taking Cinder so long?

Cress decided to wait and checked who was the owner of this laptop. Carswell Thorne, the chart said. Oh, she was going to have a word with this- wait why did that name sound familiar.

She pushed backward on her rolly chair to the desk behind her where the shop’s computer was. She typed his name and clicked on his Instagram account. Pictures of a very handsome face popped and her hand flew to her mouth.

This was Carswell Thorne! Her crush from high school.

Aces, she liked this man ever since she laid eyes on him. Sure they were close, but Cress never had the guts to ask him out. They promised to keep in touch after they went to separate colleges, but it's been three years.

And although it seemed impossible, she forgot about him. But now, seeing his picture, old feelings and memories came rushing back.

She scrolled down, studying his pictures. A small smile crept on her lips as she remembered her fantasies. Then a blush came next and she closed out of the tab out of embarrassment.

Okay. This is fine. She was fine. Her massive crush from high school is here and she was fixing his laptop. Oh no, what was she going to say when he comes to pick up his laptop?

Cress took a deep breath to calm herself down. She shouldn’t fear the worst because it won’t happen, right?

There was a thump from the front desk. Startled, she rolled back putting on a smile, then dropping it when she saw that was just Cinder with her coffee. But it was a frappuccino. She frowned.

“I wanted an Americano, ” Cress explained.

Cinder didn’t hear and let herself in. Her face was flushed and she had a dazed look, “Cinder?”

She looked at Cress and seemed to be brought back to the present, “huh?”

“Are you alright? I wanted an Americano by the way.”

Cinder blinked, “right, sorry. I forgot because…” she trailed off.

Cress furrowed her brow. She was acting rather odd, “Cinder, what happened?”

“I don’t know, ” she said slowly, “Shit, I gotta go,” she left her latte and headed out.

“What- you just had lunch, it's my turn!” Cress groaned. Better start working Thorne’s laptop, she thought.

After an hour or so, the laptop was ready to be fixed by Cinder, who still hasn’t come back. Her stomach growled and Cress decided to attack her snack stash.

Iko had come in to take care of customers and Cress was so grateful because she was terrible with them. Now Cress was in a workspace she shared with Cinder at the back of the shop. It was far away from people which was the best part.

“Hey Cress?” said Iko, head behind the door.

“Yes?”

“Someones here to see you.”

“Is Cinder back yet?”

“Nope, but the longer the better, ” did Iko know something?

Cress got up and stretched her neck. She turned around and saw a man in the doorway with brown hair and beautiful blue eyes. Spades, it was Carswell Thorne, from high school. He somehow looked hotter and her cheeks blushed for thinking that. And here was she, a mess from fixing tech all day with bad hair and a crinkled uniform.

“Hi, Cress, it’s been so long, ” he greeted, eyes sparkling.

She blushed even more, “hi Captain, ” she blurted. Oh, spades she used her nickname for him. This was going terrible.

Thorne laughed and her stomach felt crowded with butterflies. She chuckled, hugging her arm.

“Wow, I miss that. I miss-” he stopped himself and changed the subject, “how are you?”

“I’m good, school is going well, I’m majoring in Computer Science. Uh, how- how are you?” she stammered.

“I’m fine. I’m visiting family here and I saw Iko’s Instagram and you were in one of the pictures so I wanted to come by. I didn’t know you worked with her, ” he explained.

“Oh, only weekends because of classes. It pays enough. Wow, I can’t believe you’re here, I-I missed you.”

He blushed, “me too, ” he sniffed and looked to the ceiling. Cress also looked away, blushing.

“Cress?” she looked back at his ocean blue eyes. They were so wonderful to look at.

“Yes?” Thorne took a step forward.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you, to be honest, and I know I took three years to realize this but,” he grabbed her small hands and stared at them, “everyone I dated since then, which was a lot of people, I thought of you. And none of them made me feel, what you made me feel.”

Cress gaped at him, “Thorne, it's been year's I-”

“You don’t feel that way anymore, ” he looked at her, eyes full of sadness. He let go, “I understand, I know I messed up”

“No!” she grabbed his hands back, “it’s not that. I forgot what it felt like, but I still feel it, ” she cupped his cheek, “and I’m pretty sure that feeling is love.”

He smiled, “well then, would you like to go on a date?”

“Yes!” she hugged Thorne.

“This feels weird, to be honest, ” he laughed.

“Yes it does, and you and I probably changed-”

“We’ll make it work.”

“Yeah.”

(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())

Cress picked up her pasta with the fork. It fell before she could eat it and she let out a frustrated huff. Cinder snickered from across the table and she glared but she was laughing at something else.

“Do you like it?” asked Carswell beside her.

She smiled. It’s been a month since that fateful day. Cinder proclaims that she convinced Carswell to confess to Cress, therefore initiating thier relationship.

That’s why she was acting weird but she was also dealing with other business. That business being the boy sitting beside her.

They were on a double date and Cress couldn’t have been happier. She felt as if she was floating on clouds. Carswell transferred here for the pilot program and stayed with his aunt, so they could continue their relationship happily.

“I love it,” she replied, pecking his lips. He smiled as took a sip of his wine, immediately coughing it out.

Cinder and Kai laughed, leaning on each other. Carswell glared at them while cleaning his mouth with a napkin.

“What happened, ” Cress asked, confused.

“We put, ” Cinder stopped to take a breath from laughing so much, “the bottle of salt in his drink.”

Carswell coughed again as Cinder dug her head in Kai’s shoulder. Cress giggled.

“You guys are so immature!” he accused.

“Oh, look who’s talking, ” Kai spat, calming down a little.

Cress was thrilled but she didn’t show it. The real reason they are having a double date is that she, Carswell, and Iko are plotting to get them together. It was working so far and both of them agreeing to this date was a big step. And it brought her and Carswell closer.

She looked at him and he smiled knowingly.

Sighing happily, Cress successfully ate her pasta. She wished that this happy, floating feeling will last for a very long time.

Tlc Ship Weeks 2021 Masterlist

Tagging: @just2bubbly @the-wee-woo-rita @zephyr-thedragon @cerenoya @kaiderforever @salt-warrior @shelbylmkaider @shellyseashell @greenalmond @greasicookies @deprivedmusicaljunkie @impossiblesuitcase @sexy-dumpster-fire (ask if you wanna be added or removed!)

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

heyyyy luv could you please bless us with a secret relationship and bucky :')

specifics: bucky is always disappearing from the compound and everyone figures that it's bucky being bucky.. but he's visiting his civilian girlfriend and knows that she'll be in danger the moment they go public so he doesn't even tell the team about her.. and their circumstances of meeting could be in the aftermath of some Avengers thing?

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

Word Count: 2,837

Y/N had just hopped out of the shower and was now combing her hair and applying all your moisturizers. She was home alone in her small, one-bedroom apartment. She had some soft music playing from her laptop, trying to wind down from her day.

However, when she stepped out of the bathroom, there was a large man casually moving about her bedroom.

Y/N yelped and nearly dropped her towel from the fright.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Bucky! You nearly gave me a heart attack!”

He immediately looked guilty and tried to make himself smaller and less intimidating. “I’m sorry, doll. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“I thought you weren’t getting back until tomorrow,” she pointed out, hand still over her heart as if it would calm its racing.

He stepped over to her and gave her a hello kiss. “Got home quicker than we planned. I texted you, but I can obviously see that you were in the shower when I sent it.” He pointed to her phone that she’d left on her nightstand.

Then Bucky cupped her cheek and kissed her again, slower and more passionately this time.

“I really am sorry for scaring you,” he told her as he pressed his forehead against hers.

He could clearly hear the rapid beating of her heart with those insane super-soldier senses.

“It’s OK. Should be used to your sneaky, ninja ways by now.”

He chuckled.

That’s when Y/N saw the bruise on his left cheek. His hair was wet too. 

Bucky always showered before he came to see her after missions. Y/N had told him time and time again that he could shower at her place. Bucky always just shrugged and said it was quicker to do it at the compound. But he was actually just trying to hide all the blood that was left on his skin. Y/N didn’t need to see it. Especially when it wasn’t his blood.

“I’m fine. Just a few bruises. Don’t you go starting…” Bucky warned when he saw the concern in her eyes as she stared at his bruise.

Y/N sighed and allowed him to brush over it.

Then she moved around him to hunt for some pajamas and underwear.

“What’d you tell the team?” She tried to ask in a nonchalant manner as she shuffled through her dresser.  

“What do you mean?” Bucky played stupid.

Y/N straightened and turned to give him a look. “I mean, what lie did you tell them before you came over here.”

She didn’t mean for it to sound so harsh.

“I didn’t tell them anything. I snuck out when they were all in the kitchen eating.”

Y/N didn’t say anything, just went back to find clothes.

Bucky was suddenly filled with guilt. “Y/N–”

“It’s fine, Bucky.” She threw on a crew sweatshirt without even realizing that it was one of the many items of clothing Bucky left at her place.

“It’s not fine. You’re upset.”

She was fully dressed now and turned around to face him. “I’m not upset. I’m frustrated.”

Y/N was always one to be direct with her emotions. Never lied about being fine when she was not. Always told Bucky exactly how she was feeling, even if it took her a bit to fully figure out what that was. It was one of the countless reasons he loved her. And it made him less shy about expressing his own emotions. His mental and emotional health only improved because of it. Because of her.

“OK…” Bucky said slowly, inviting her to continue.

Y/N sighed and plopped herself on the edge of her bed. He sat down next to her. 

“Look, Bucky…I know why this – us – is secret. I understand where you’re coming from. I know…” She took a breath. “I know you do it because you think it keeps me safe. But the team…they’re more than the Avengers. They’re your friends. They’re your family. And I might not have ever met them, but from what you’ve told me, they would die before they told anyone your secrets.”

Bucky swallowed and was wringing his hands in his lap, head hung in slight shame. “I know that.”

“So why are you keeping me a secret from them?”

“It has nothing to do with you, if that’s what you’re thinking.” Bucky immediately shot down. “I’m not embarrassed or ashamed of you, Y/N. Hell, every day I wake up and wonder how I even managed to snag a dame like you. If anyone should be embarrassed, it’s you.”

She waited for him to continue and explain.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” Then he reached over to hold her hand. “It’s just…I feel like as soon as you meet them, our little bubble of happiness is going to pop.” His metal hand ran through his wet hair. “When I’m with you, I just feel like Bucky. Sometimes I even feel like my old self, that naive bastard from the 30s.” He sighed. “But as soon as I introduce you to that part of my life, I’m scared you’ll see all the things about myself that I don’t want you to. You’ll be reminded that I am – was – the Winter Soldier. That I’m not just Bucky, your boyfriend. I’m a surviving POW, I’m an assassin, a soldier, an Avenger. I won’t be able to hide all my baggage once that happens.”

Y/N watched him for a moment, love was in her eyes.

“Bucky, I knew those things all along.”

“I know. I know, doll. But I just – I don’t want anything to change between us.”

Y/N laughed lightly. “Of course things will change between us. That’s part of a relationship. We grow together.” She laughed again. “Or grow apart.” Then her smile dropped and she got serious. “But I don’t see the latter happening for us.”

Bucky just nodded in agreement.

“They love you like I love you.” Y/N shrugged sadly. “I just want to meet the people that take care of you when you’re not with me.”

Bucky gave her a sorrowful grin.

Y/N sighed. “I’m not going to pressure you to do anything that you’re not comfortable with. I just wanted to tell you how I was feeling about it all.”

He leaned in and kissed her forehead. “Thank you for telling me.”

Their night went on like it normally did. Bucky had returned Friday night, so now he got to spend the whole weekend with his girl.

When he was gone from the compound for long periods like this, Steve was the only one that really showed concern. He thought Bucky was always on some weird mental bender, going night after night without sleep and just wandering around. Bucky figured Steve imagined him trying to get drunk from one bar to the next.

Obviously Bucky felt guilty for unnecessarily worrying his best friend, especially when he was actually doing better than OK. But letting Steve believe in the false ideas was a sacrifice Bucky was willing to make in order to have Y/N in his life.

Bucky couldn’t stop thinking about Y/N’s argument for her to meet his friends. He understood completely where she was coming from. He wished he could give her that. He wished he could give her normal – that he was a different person, who didn’t have to hyper analyze every single decision in his life in order to keep himself and the people he loved safe.

But that kind of life was taken from him when he fell off that damn train.

————————————————

“You’re a god damn idiot, you know that?” Steve snapped at Bucky as he started ripping bandages from a roll with his teeth.

Bucky was currently laying down on the quinjet’s operating table.

“Sometimes I just hate that Captain America gets all the attention,” Bucky joked.

But Steve wasn’t laughing.

Because Bucky was bleeding out. 

And he was in pain, yes. But he wasn’t about to tell anyone that.

“Well, dying on me is definitely one way to steal the spotlight, punk.”

“Captain Rogers, if I could interrupt,” Vision was looking at Bucky over Steve’s shoulder. “The bullet was a through shot and it thankfully hit no important arteries or organs. Do not be fooled by the blood, Sergeant Barnes’ super-soldier enhancements will heal him faster than the average man.”

Steve ground his teeth, thankful for Vision’s scientific encouragement but also still irritated with Bucky’s condition. “Thanks, Vision.”

“See,” Bucky started coughing. He could only imagine how pale and clammy he looked. “I’m fine.”

“Oh. Well, I do still suggest we stop the bleeding or he will surely die of blood loss.” Vision piped in again.

Bucky glared at the cyborg. “We gotta work on your delivery, pal.”

Vision winced, but got out of Steve’s way.

“You just had to go and get yourself shot. You couldn’t let me take a bullet for once,” Steve muttered as he put pressure on Bucky’s giant wound.

“Well, you see, your shield was still planted in a brick wall and I saw someone pointing a gun at you. I thought my metal arm would do the trick but the bastard shifted his aim at the last minute.” He glared at Steve for real now. “I’m not sorry. And I’d do it again.”

Steve exhaled, knowing that there was no point in scolding Bucky. The man would sacrifice himself for any of his teammates and any civilian. That’s why Steve was friends with him.

“Hey, Steve?” For the first time since getting shot, Bucky sounded scared.

“Yeah, Buck.”

“I need you to do me a favor.”

Steve nodded. “OK…”

“You can’t…You can’t ask any questions. You just have to do it, OK? I promise I’ll explain later.”

His tone was starting to worry Steve. “Bucky, you’re not dying on me, you hear me? If this is some final wish, I’ll smack you.”

“I’m not dying today. I’ve been through worse shit. Just tell me you’ll do the damn favor, Steve.”

“OK. OK. OK. What is it?”

“I’m about to pass out from the blood loss. So, listen to me carefully.” Bucky’s eyes flickered around him to make sure no one else was paying attention to him. “I need you to get my cell. Find the contact labeled Smithsonian Institution Offices. Text them that I’d like my dog tags returned from the museum. She’ll know what to do from there.”

Bucky’s body relaxed once his instructions were finished. His eyes fluttered close. Sleep sounded nice.

“She?” Steve asked.

But Bucky was already passed out.

——————————————

Steve had been pacing in the welcome lobby of the compound for a solid 20 minutes now. He was pretty sure he’d correctly put together the puzzle pieces. But Steve was having trouble believing that Bucky would do what he was suspecting.

All pacing stopped when he saw security escorting a young woman through the doors.

She was beautiful. Anyone with sight would notice that immediately.

Even if her eyes were red – which Steve suspected was from crying – they were mesmerizing.

She looked uncomfortable and clearly felt out of place at the Avengers’ compound.

Steve stepped forward. “Y/N?” He asked carefully.

She stared at him for a moment, taking him in like she was trying to match up the reality to how she had pictured him in her head.

Then she nodded.

Steve eyed the two security guards on either side of her. “I’ll take it from here. Thanks.”

Then he turned his attention to Y/N. “Follow me.”

They started their journey through the large and complicated halls of the compound. Every so often, someone walking past them would eye Y/N, not recognizing her or wondering who was lucky enough to be in the company of Captain America.

“So…” Steve felt the need to break the silence on their long walk. “You and Bucky. You’re…”

“This is not how I wanted to meet you, Steve.” She quickly rushed out. “I’m so sorry. It was Bucky’s idea, keeping me a secret.”

“Oh, I know there was no way it was anyone’s idea but his own. This has Bucky written all over it. I’m just still trying to…” Steve scratched the back of his neck, “wrap my mind around it.” Then he shook his head. “It explains a lot actually: the late nights, leaving for days at a time, keeping his phone on him at all times.”

Y/N smirked then. “I send him a lot of stupid videos during the day. Mostly cats.”

They were at the medical wing then. Steve turned to face her. “I get it. I get why he did it. But that doesn’t mean I’m not still hurt that he thought he couldn’t tell me.”

Y/N nodded in agreement, understanding where he was coming from. “Well, if it’s any consolation, I’m happy to be meeting you now. Obviously I wish the circumstances were better.” She gave him a sad smile. “He’s told me all about you. I feel like I know all of you actually.” She bowed her head. “I practically begged him to let me meet all of you. But Bucky – he’s very protective of me.”

Steve nodded. That same characteristic was the very reason Bucky was even injured in the first place.

“He might be sleeping. But he’s in the first room on the left. I’ll make sure no one bothers you.”

Y/N nodded. She was about to take a step forward, but then quickly changed her mind and hurriedly pulled Steve into a hug.

Steve was caught off guard by it, but quickly recovered.

“Thanks for always taking care of him, Steve.” She whispered into his shoulder.

“I think I should be the one saying that to you…”

Y/N pulled away and quickly wiped away tears with embarrassment. “Right. I should…” She awkwardly pointed to the room and walked away.

Steve was going to give them a moment. But his curiosity couldn’t be stopped.

Ever so quietly, he tiptoed to the edge of the room and stood hidden off to the side of the door.

“Doll, please don’t cry. I promise I’m OK. It’s all part of the job.” Steve heard Bucky trying to console her.

“When I got the text,” Y/N cried. “I just knew it wasn’t you who sent it. I knew something was wrong. I’d been feeling off all day.” She sniffed. “Bucky, I was so scared.”

“Shhh. I’m OK. Everything���s OK. Come here, Y/N.”

There was shuffling and Steve could only assume Bucky had pulled her entire body to him.

“I love you,” Y/N whispered.

“I love you too, doll.”

An hour later, Steve found both of them passed out. Even injured and asleep, Bucky had both his arms protectively around Y/N, holding her as close as possible. His nose in her hair. Her head on his chest.

——————

A week later, Bucky found Steve in the study.

He’d been discharged a couple days ago, but firmly ordered not to overexert himself. The team had let him heal, all of them slowly being told about Y/N’s existence and letting her be the one to nurse Bucky back to health in privacy.

“You want to talk about this?” Bucky asked as he leaned against the doorway.

Steve closed his sketchbook and rubbed his face with a sigh.

“You’re allowed to be mad at me, you know.” Bucky added.

“I get why you did it. I do.” Then Steve finally looked at him. “But that still doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.”

“Y/N…she was the only thing in my life that was all mine and no one else’s. Everything else about me is owned by the world. My story, my history, my imprisonment. It’s out there for the world to read and make unfair judgements about.” Bucky shook his head. “I just couldn’t bare to bring Y/N into that: to be judged and criticized.”

“It’s me we’re talking about, Bucky.” Steve argued.

“But it wouldn’t stop there. Next it would’ve been Sam, then Nat, then Tony. It’s a slippery slope. All I ever wanted to do was keep her safe, Steve.”

“I know. I know.” Steve sighed. “That’s why I’m not mad at you.”

“You’re not?”

“Of course not.”

“That means a lot to me, Steve.”

“You know, it all makes sense now.”

Bucky’s brow furrowed. “What does?”

“Why you’ve changed so much – and I mean for the better. You seemed happier, lighter, healthier. It’s because of Y/N, isn’t it?”

Bucky smiled even at just hearing her name. “Yeah, it is.”

Steve nodded and gave him a shy grin. “I talked to the team. They understand the situation.” His eyes grew heavy with earnestness. “Your secret is safe with us, Bucky.” He cleared his throat. “She’s one of us now. And we protect our own.”

“Thank you, Steve.”

“Can you just do us all a favor though? Can you start bringing her around? Maybe just properly introduce her to everyone at least?”

Bucky smiled. “I think we can manage that. Y/N would – that would make her really happy.”

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

I have a few more of these requests to fill. Honestly, they’ve been fun and a great palette cleanser.

Let me know what you think!

(My requests are no longer open FYI.) 

[wallwriterstuff]

Ignorance Without Bliss || Heidi Volturi x Female Reader ||

Words: 4951 

Warnings: NSFW, oral sex, brief mention anxiety about crossing boundaries so if your sensitive to that please beware - remember anything nsfw is tagged as #writersfantasy so you can block this particular tag if you want to avoid this work and any others like it! 

Summary: You and Heidi have been together for a while now, the seductress unable to leave you since discovering you are mates. Everyone complains about the thirst you endure as a newborn, but you are thirsting for something entirely different...not that Heidi seems to realise. 

Heidi had never been late a day in her life until she met you.

She took great pride in her work, knowing she was a critical player ensuring the success of her coven, so she gave it due diligence. Every move Heidi made was carefully planned weeks in advance, every invitation she sent meticulously crafted and triple checked, her records filled with explicit detail and filed succinctly so the briefest glance could ensure that she wasn’t drawing too much attention to her little operation in any given part of the world. Yes, Heid poured her heart and soul into everything she did.

That included flirting with you.

You’d been smitten immediately for the woman who looked like she’d walked right off of the runway and into your little bookstore. She glowed under the warm, amber lighting in the cosy space, mahogany hair shining and striking violet eyes flickering over the shelves so rapidly you wondered if she was really seeing anything at all. You’d offered your help. It was only a small store with no employees to speak off except that one teenager that worked weekends, but this was a Tuesday, a rainy, dull Tuesday that had invited a gorgeous woman to your quaint little bookstore so many others passed by. She answered you in perfectly fluent English despite the lingering mix of accents that were melodic, but difficult to place.

With no one else in your store you’d devoted all your time and attention to her that day, enthralled by the bell like laughter and the generous heart she had. The radiance of her beauty was astounding yes but she was so much more than a pretty face, her quick wit and intelligence shining through the longer you spoke to her. She came back the next day to buy from you again, and one last time the day after that to leave you her contact details since she claimed to be moving on from the city. It would be a few months before you realised she was actually there to stalk her prey and ensure they got on the plane with her, Felix the one to let it slip as he playfully accused you of leaving him hungry. She’d been a whole 24 hours late and had half of the guard ripping into her for spending her time with you.

It was easy to fall in love with her, even over the internet. Text messages and video calls had become the norm for you and you worried when you didn’t hear from her for a while, though timezones weren’t an issue for her since she had no need for sleep and could reply to you consistently. Heidi was kind, thoughtful, charming. She was unnaturally gorgeous and yet she never failed to make you feel like you were the insanely beautiful one in your relationship, though it wasn’t defined for at least a month, by which time you were hopelessly in love and could care less about labels anyway. When she showed up unannounced one day you were absolutely delighted to see her, though her anxious expression had made you start to panic internally to.

She’d been horrified by the mere thought you might reject her for her vampirism, terrified you might run for the hills and leave her alone when you knew why she had really come to your city, what her job had required her to do to people you might have known or once served in your store. It had been a shock to say the least but somehow it was comforting, if only because you knew then that Heidi’s beauty was definitely inhuman so your own imperfections seemed less staggering compared to her flawless features. However, you had one small problem with your plan to run away with your vampire lover – how were you supposed to leave behind your life’s work?

You moved it online of course.

In the space of four months your life had changed drastically. With nothing tying you to your home city you had given it all up to live in a much smaller, quainter little town, launched an online business with the money you’d gotten for selling your store, and become the lover of a ridiculously hot vampire. It was like something out of a bad romance novel but you were thrilled by it all, thrilled she had chosen you, thrilled you could continue spreading your passion for good books, thrilled you could spend forever with someone who would only ever love you unequivocally. The thirst had been a little difficult to deal with at the start perhaps but as time wore on it was easier to forget about, to endure.

You were thirsty for something entirely different now.

Heidi took pride in her work because it was important, and that meant she dedicated a lot of time to it. She spent hours upon hours crafting invitations, travel plans and outfits, hairstyles. Heidi had crafted her persona now for centuries and was the ultimate seductress, so why the fuck had she not noticed how desperately you were trying to seduce her? Being a vampire heightened everything, and your desire for her had magnified to more than you could handle. You desperately needed an outlet for it and soon, because now you weren’t consumed by bloodlust your thoughts had turned to exactly how much you lusted for her.

You had never been particularly subtle, always one to speak before you had time to think, that preferred to be blunt over hedging around a subject, so you couldn’t blame her ignorance on yourself. You had stood behind her one night as she worked away in her desk chair and given her a shoulder massage, complete with feather light kisses that danced along her throat in the hopes she’d notice you. No luck. You had ever so slowly snuck your hand up her inner thigh, fingertips stroking lazy circle into her skin as you relaxed together on the chaise in your shared room watching TV once, but she’d moved to shower before you could take your hand any further, completely oblivious at your attempt to touch her.

You’d gone the whole hog and ordered some nice lingerie to in the hopes that she’d get the hint, but when she found you casually wearing it about your room you’d simply gotten a, ‘you look stunning darling’, before she went back to work that left your self-esteem a little shattered and you very grumpy. You’d given up at that point, your mind reeling with unanswered questions. Did she not want you that way? Was she asexual maybe? God you prayed your advances hadn’t made her so uncomfortable she didn’t feel she could speak to you about her boundaries, that was the last thing you wanted.

You were completely oblivious to her own attempts to seduce you too of course, completely unaware that Heidi was worrying about the same things you were. She’d ran the both of you a bath once, her hands sliding along the planes of your body she’d never explored before, but you had been newly turned and even the sensation of her skin against yours wasn’t enough to distract you from the burning in your throat. Heidi had understood that time at least, but she had been left confused and somewhat dejected when you’d refused her advances two months after that as well, her hands unzipping your jeans deftly when you’d suddenly pulled back to pack up a book needing to be shipped the next day you had forgotten about until that moment. You had both been getting ready to settle in for the night, so you’d thought she was simply trying to encourage you out of your tight jeans into something less constrictive for your comfort.  

She was working again now as you stared at her, half admiring her beauty, half worrying over how to bring up what you wanted to say to her. You needed to talk, your worry that you had crossed some unspoken boundaries too great for you to ignore now. You had been together for a little over a year and the lack of physicality was something you would work around if she needed you to, but you wanted her to be comfortable enough to talk openly to you about it so you could compromise, negotiate. You just didn’t want the relationship to fall apart because you’d been a bit too pushy with your mate. She was stunning even now, lustrous hair piled in a messy bun on her head and baggy sweatpants with the shirt tucked in was hardly an outfit designed to drop jaws, yet she made it look worthy of a Parisian fashion show. You ached to show her how beautiful she was to you, prayed one day she might let you, but for now you had much more unstable bridges to cross.

“Heidi?” you perched yourself on the end of your shared bed, staring across towards her desk with your nails digging into the duvet. She hummed her acknowledgement, hands flying over the keyboard of her laptop before she glanced across at you. She did a bit of a double take, noting your serious expression and your tense posture, then closed the lid and turned in her chair to give you her full attention.

“What is it darling? You look so serious.” She frowned, perfectly sculpted brows drawing low over burgundy stained eyes the same colour as fine wine. Her eyes were full of worry for you, her legs unfurling from beneath her as she sat forward, leaning towards you and cocking her head to try to prompt you to speak. You drew in a deep breath, trying to mentally prepare yourself for the conversation about to happen. You’d tried to think of what to say all week but nothing seemed right, no combination of words seemed sensitive enough or made your point as clearly as your usual blunt manner, so you were going to do what you did best and speak your mind. You could only hope she’d forgive you afterward if it made her feel more uncomfortable than she already did.

“I’ve been trying to seduce you for a while now and you’ve not really responded to any of my advances so…did I cross a line? Are you not, you know, are you not interested in being physical with me? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” You told her. You internally cringed at the genuine shock on her face, but the expression quickly melted away and was replaced instead by amusement, a giggle escaping her before she was slowly sauntering her way towards you. Your eyebrows rose slightly, eyes magnetised to the swing of her hips as she approached with all the stealthy grace of a big cat stalking its prey.

“You think you make me uncomfortable? That I do not desire you?” Was it a question or was she goading you? You really couldn’t tell, nor could you decide if the mischievous glint in her eyes was good or bad for you.  You sat straighter, watching her every move like a hawk as the venom began to pool in your mouth. It was so difficult to look away all of a sudden and you understood how little chance her prey stood when she turned her gift on then.

“Yes.” You said finally, forcing your eyes up from her hips to her face with a monumental amount of effort. Her lips had curled into a wide smirk as she slid her hands along your cheeks, gently cupping your face and bending at the waist to press a feather light kiss to your lips. Your eyes widened in surprise, the intoxicating sweetness of cherry lip balm spreading over your taste buds as she kissed you slowly, deeply. Heidi pressed a knee into the mattress by your hip, hands sliding down your neck to your shoulders, down your arms, coaxing them up so you could grip her hips. You held her steady and shuffled back, giving her adequate room to pull her other knee up and straddle you without fear of her falling off the bed.

The warm weight of her on your thighs, the curve of her waist in your hands, the taste of her tongue…it was better than any fantasy you dared admit you had indulged in. Heidi had ensnared your every sense, touch, taste, smell, sight, she surrounded you in every way and you felt utterly helpless to do anything but follow her lead. Your hands slid up her sides, one reaching around her back to push up her spine and into her hair, the other gliding smoothly up the front, grazing between her breasts on the way up to her jaw. Heidi pulled back, the trail of venom connecting you both only fuelling your lust as your grip on her jaw tightened, thumb reaching to graze her lower lip.

“Darling, I’ve been trying to seduce you to,” she sighed, eyes boring into your own, “I suppose we’ve both been a little blind.” You let her words sink in, the fire in your lower belly burning hotter as she touched your cheek oh so tenderly.

“So…I’ve not compromised your boundaries?” you checked, voice a little gruffer than you’d intended it to be. Heidi shook her head as you undid the bobble holding her hair in place, watching the waves of mahogany come cascading down over her shoulders with hungry eyes.

“None at all.” She promised.

“Are there any I should know about now?” you queried. Her lips slowly pulled up at the corners, her smile breathtaking.

“I don’t like to be tied up or spanked. I’m your partner, not your plaything.” She answered. You nodded your head.

“My bra stays on, and you don’t go near my ass.” You countered. Heidi laughed, the musical sound making you smile involuntarily. The heat in her gaze was matched only by the fire that had ignited in your very soul, the mere knowledge this stunning woman wanted you too enough to set you ablaze. How had you both missed the signs? It didn’t matter, now you simply had to make up for lost time…

“That can be easily arranged.” Heidi agreed, leaning forward to kiss you once more. You slid the hand on her jaw to the back of her neck, keeping her mouth trapped against yours. The best part about no longer having to breath was that you could quite literally kiss her forever, never once losing the sweet taste of her while your other hand tangled in her hair. A full body flush overtook you when you realised this was actually happening, that Heidi had genuinely wanted you all along. A groan escaped you as you tugged at her hair, forcing her head to tilt backward and expose her throat so you could lavish it with your affection.

She complied beautifully, lips parted ever so slightly and eyes closed as your mouth played along the column of her throat, searching for that one little spot you were itching to find. She was a vision to peer at through your lashes, a small smirk tugging at your lips when her brows were pulled downward, teeth catching her lower lip. You didn’t move after that, nipping and laving your tongue over the sensitive bit of her skin right in the hollow of her collar bone. Though you would never be able to colour her marble like flesh it didn’t mean you weren’t going to deny yourself the pleasure of trying. The hand at the nape of her neck slid down and around, fingertips teasing along her collarbone before you clasped your fingers around the fullest part of her breast, squeezing lightly as you bit down on the skin and pulled back to blow on the wet patch left behind.

She moaned so sweetly for you, the sound enough to make your ears ring. A flood of arousal assaulting your senses as you toyed with her through the fabric of her shirt, kneading at her chest and purring your approval when her hips slowly rolled against your own. It took her a few tries, but she quickly found a rhythm and a way of moving that tore your conscious thought to shreds. Mind foggy, you gave in for just a little while and let her redirect your kisses back to her mouth, her tongue moving perfectly in synch with her hips as the friction stoked the fire in your belly. Oh, she was good.

“I love you so much.” You mumbled between kisses. Heidi laughed, never once ceasing the rolling of her hips as she pulled back to stare down at you adoringly.

“The feelings mutual darling.” She replied. Your eyes wandered over the goddess bearing down on you, and your frustration mounted at just how little of her you were getting the pleasure of seeing. Hands moving to the hem of her shirt you tugged impatiently, Heidi pausing as she lifted her hands to let you pull her shirt over her head. No bra. You groaned your appreciation for the way her perky little breasts immediately bounced back into place, crystalline skin glowing in the sunset that poured through your window and leaving you reflected in rainbows. She was radiant in every way imaginable and the way your hungry eyes roved her torso actually made her shudder in anticipation. Her hair needed to be smoothed back from her lovely face so you could feel the full effects of her smouldering eyes once more.  

You were burning hot by now, so much so you feared the very flammable venom in your veins might ignite at the merest touch of her skin on yours, but you craved it more than anything you had ever craved before. She was beneath you in a heartbeat, gasping slightly at the sudden movement as you crashed your mouth back to hers for the briefest, most passionate kiss you could give her before your mouth was moving back to her collarbone, playing along the skin before descending lower. You shared arousal had long since tainted the scent of the air around you and you wanted – no, you needed to know, if it tasted as sweet as it smelled. Heidi’s hands found their way into your hair but you were far too focused on taking one pebbled nipple between your teeth, tugging lightly as your fingers tweaked it’s twin until her chest arched upwards, pressing for more of your attention with a contented sigh.

You left open-mouthed kisses around the curve of her breast, pressing your tongue flat to her skin and lapping at her nipple until you felt a tug at your hair. You glanced up to find Heidi’s eyes burning into your own, blackened by her desire for you.

“You want me to stop?” you asked. The sharp tug on your hair and the irritated growl that slipped from between her lips was enough to prove you wrong without the words that followed the action.

“No, I want you to stop teasing.” She pouted, making you grin.

“Teasing?” You questioned. Before she had a chance to reply you took her nipple back between your lips and suckled gently. A hiss of air escaped between her teeth and you chuckled, thumb stroking her ribs soothingly before pressing a gentle kiss to the swell of each breast and carrying on with your descent to the sirens call of her arousal. More hot, open-mouthed kisses you sporadically left over her stomach had her squirming ever so slightly, leaving you in awe at just how submissive you had made the seductress beneath you. She was completely compliant, more than happy to let you pleasure her as you had longed to do from the very early stages of your relationship.

Considering her dressed down appearance, the slinky black panties that were more barely-there-wear than underwear were a pleasant surprise for you. You snapped the elastic with a wicked grin.

“You like?” she asked, one hand carding through your hair while the other rested lightly alongside her thigh.

“I love,” You confirmed, “But they’d look so much better on our rug, black on white, you know?” Heidi laughed, lifting her hips for you to pull the flimsy fabric away without resistance.

“Are you sure you wish to do this for me?” Heidi asked. You snorted slightly, tossing her panties over your shoulder carelessly as you parted her thighs with your hands, rubbing up and down slowly as your gazed over every exposed inch of her.

“This and so much more, you’re stunning Heidi, an absolute work of art.” You vowed, your voice reverent as the fire in you raged, venom pooling in your mouth at the thought of the taste of her on your tongue. You swallowed it back, tongue darting out to wet your lips before your eyes darted back up to her face, keeping your gaze locked on hers as you lowered your body to the mattress. The movement was painfully slow and you could see just how much frustration it caused her, her head lifting to watch your descent before she flopped back with a slight huff, biting down on her lip to keep from begging you for more.

You had no desire to give in, enjoying teasing her too much as your lips ghosted along her inner thigh, your kisses pressing to every part of her except the place she wanted you most. The hand in your hair gave another sharp tug, trying to direct you, but you ignored it in favour of holding her thighs apart, simply exhaling right above her core. Her scent was driving you wild as your finger delicately drew a line down her thigh, up the crease where thigh met pelvis, over the top of her pussy and down the other side. Your shoulders shook with silent laughter as she growled at you again, and you finally took pity on your lover, reaching downward before pulling your fingers from top to bottom, gathering and spreading the wetness her weeping pussy offered.

Heidi sighed softly, tense muscles immediately relaxing as she settled back to enjoy herself. Your fingers smoothly ran back down between her labia, circling her entrance and shallowly dipping into her before running back up, your index finger giving her clit a firm little tap that made her toes curl just a little. She had waited so patiently just feeling your warm breath on her skin that the feeling of your actual lips pressing to her had her hand fisting the sheets. Your tongue worked its way between her folds, licking an upward stripe from top to bottom before you closed your lips around her clit and sucked firmly, just once, enough to give her a taster. Using the way your arms had hooked around her thighs to your advantage you reached around and gently spread her open, giving your tongue an all access pass to the most sensitive part of her.

You did not go easy on her, tongue flickering up and down, back and forth over her clit again and again until she was tightening her thighs around your head, the hand in your hair no longer able to play with the (Y/H/C) strands and instead applying a gentle pressure on the back of your head to keep you where she wanted you. Breathy noises were starting to escape without her permission, her mouth moving as if to speak despite no words coming out. Heidi bit down on her lower lip every muscles slowly going rigid with tension as she curled a leg around your shoulder to keep you closer. You pulled back from that, gently pushing her leg back. Her eyes snapped open, questioning and slightly annoyed you’d stopped, so you slid a finger through her glistening folds before carefully pressing it into her.

“I don’t mind doing this, but I’m not comfortable with you keeping me pinned, I need the freedom to move away when I want.” You admitted, probing her velvet heat as you spoke and taking note of how tight she felt as you stroked and searched. Heidi nodded her head.

“Of course, sorry.” She breathed. You leaned down to drag your mouth closed over her clit again, sucking as you went.

“Don’t be, you know now.” You said simply, resuming your kitten licks. The way she whined and squirmed to press closer had you grinning as you worked her over, the sweet, tangy taste of her on your tongue…you could feel your own arousal sticky wet at the apex of your thighs, your clit throbbing for some attention, but for now Heidi was your focus. You slipped a second finger along her slit before pushing it into her to join your index, but the way she tensed was just a bit too much and you immediately pulled back, making Heidi groan.

“No, don’t stop,” she pleaded, “Not when I’m this close.” A thrill shot down your spine but you kept yourself in check, even as the smug little smirk overtook your lips. You were the one who had done this to her, after all. The great seductress, on her back and begging for you to please her. It was like a good smutty novel, only better, since it was your reality.

“I don’t plan on it, but do we have any lube?” You asked, stroking her hip with your clean hand.

“Top drawer, my bedside cabinet.” She replied hastily. You shuffled over with all the speed you possessed to fish out your aid and swiftly moved back between her legs, pouring a generous amount out onto your fingers and directly onto her just to be safe. There was little resistance this time when you eased your second finger into her, scissoring and curling to help her stretch out just a little. Heidi watched you for a few minutes, the sight of your fingers disappearing into her over and over again only increasing her arousal, fingers twisted in the sheets while the hand that had previously been in your hair moved up to hers.

“Darling please.” She groaned, head tilting back and eyes closing so you wouldn’t see the desperation in her blackened irises. It was too late, you couldn’t miss seeing in her the same desperation you felt after all. There was no teasing this time, you settled yourself on your elbow and leaned down to flick your tongue over her clit again, mercilessly tormenting her now with a mixture of fast kitten licks and slow drags of the wet muscle, occasionally clamping down to suckle on her while your fingers worked inside of her, curling upward to prod at the soft skin that had her toes curling and her back arching. You held her down with a smug smirk, the inferno in your core raging as you increased the temp of your movements.

Heidi’s fingers tore through the sheets on your bed, her grip too tight for the flimsy cotton as her moans and pleas echoed around your room. You drank them all up, encouraged by her positive response to keep your tongue and fingers working in tandem until she clenched around you viciously, a loud, incoherent cry escaping her lips. With your keener eyesight you got to see every little tremor in her muscles as her orgasm took hold, your actions seeking to prolong her pleasure while your own desire became so insurmountable it demanded you slip your free hand down into your own pants. She was ethereal like this, writhing in pleasure, completely letting go and becoming her most vulnerable for you.

“Beautiful.” You muttered, slowing your pace. Time was different when you were immortal and what would have felt like the briefest 10 seconds of your life as a human felt like a small eternity now, one where you were both consumed by lust and pleasure and nobody else existed outside of that small bubble, no duties to attend to our businesses to run. She trembled as she came down from her high, her pussy still fluttering around your slick fingers as you pulled them free. Her eyes fluttered open just in time to watch you lick the digits clean, unable to stop the whimper of delight that escaped you. She tasted divine.

“Oh darling, come here.” She lifted an arm lazily, beckoning to you to come closer to her. With some reluctance you pulled your hand free from your pants, crawling up the bed and leaving lingering kisses against her skin as you ascended. Her arm curled around your neck gently, giving you plenty of wriggle room as her hazy mind recalled your earlier conversation. She had no problem tasting herself on your tongue and another needy whine slipped past your lips, your body aching with the need to have its more lustful desires sated. Heidi all but purred in your ear, hand reaching lower towards the hem of your shirt. You were more than eager to help her take it off.

“God, I need you.” You couldn’t keep the frustration out of your voice. Heidi’s lips pulled into a wide smile.

“Perhaps you shouldn’t have teased me darling,” She retorted. Her hand brushed up along your ribs, fingertips ghosting over the skin beneath the underwire of your bra. “It’s a shame you won’t let me take this off, though blue lace is certainly a good look on you.” She cooed, carefully rolling you onto your back as you squirmed at the ticklish feeling.

“Heidi.” Your voice was raw with need. Heidi merely tutted in reply, her expression mischievous to the point it was almost certainly dangerous.

“Relax darling, we have all the time in the world, and I intend to use every second.”

[callboxkat]

Second Chances part 8: The Visit (1 of 2)

Author’s note: Very excited to finally bring you guys this next installment of Second Chances! The second half should be out in a few days. Until then, enjoy this one :)

Summary: Between some difficulty getting along with his coworkers and his quickly approaching visit with his parents, Roman has a lot on his mind. He can only hope that things will turn out well.

Warnings (for part 1) : fear of being rejected, food mention, arguing, panic attack

Word count: 6134

Second Chances Masterpost!

Writing Masterpost!

...

Roman received his first paycheck on the Friday of his first week at the Sanders Café. He didn’t have an account set up yet for it to be directly deposited into—he and Logan were planning to take care of that over the weekend—so this first one was a literal paper check.

Roman was very excited, practically jogging back to the house. When he arrived, he immediately tried to give the check to Patton, in return for letting him stay at the house.

Patton turned him down, cheerfully saying that Roman didn’t owe them anything, and he wasn’t going to take his money. Roman probably should have expected that. He knew that Patton had benefited a lot from the kindness of strangers in his past—of course someone like him would try to pay that forward.

So, when Logan got home, Roman went to him instead and tried again to hand over his check, figuring that Logan was more likely to agree to the exchange. However, Logan just shook his head and pushed it back to him. “That’s yours, Roman. Maybe you can contribute something with future checks, but you should build up some savings for yourself, first.”

Roman had tried to insist, but Logan wasn’t budging, so he’d finally given up. He did have one more idea.

Maybe Patton and Logan had flatly turned him down, but surely there was one person who wouldn’t refuse some compensation for him being there. She hadn’t wanted him there to begin with, after all, and even though she had accepted him now, he still felt that she was the most likely to accept his offering.

This was how he found himself outside Val’s bedroom that evening, his paycheck clutched in one hand. He knocked with the other.

“It’s open,” she called.

Roman opened the door, staying in the hall. Val was sitting at her desk, painting her nails.

“Oh, hey, Roman,” she said, putting the brush back in the bottle and inspecting her handiwork. “What’s up?”

“Hey, Val,” he responded. He looked down at the check in his hand. “I wanted to ask… Pat and Logan wouldn’t take it, but….” He held out the check. “For uh, rent, I guess.”

“Is that your first paycheck?”

Roman nodded.

Val shook her head. “No, I’m not taking your money. Even if I wanted to, Patton would kill me. Or make my brother kill me.”

Roman sighed. He’d gotten this job in the first place so that he could help out and stop being a freeloader, and now not one of them was letting him do that!

“You know what you should spend some of that on?”

Roman looked up. “What?”

“You’re going to see your parents, right? You should use that for your ticket.”

“Mamá already paid for it,” Roman said. “She won’t let me pay her back, either.” She’d probably throw a fit if he tried.

“Okay, Plan B.” Val got up, stepped out into the hall, and closed the door behind her. “Let’s go get your parents a present. What do they like?”

“Weren’t you painting your nails?”

“Just finished. They’ll dry on the way. Now what do your parents like?”

Roman hesitated. “My mamá likes to garden.”

“Okay. Let’s go get her a plant. I bet she’d love something with flowers. What about your dad?”

“He… I don’t know. He’s really into birdwatching, I guess? But I don’t know what you’d get someone for that.”

“What else does he like?”

Roman dithered uncertainly. “Well, he used to collect a bunch of really old coins… but I don’t know where we’d find something like that.”

Val looked thoughtful. “I came across a site a while back where you can buy old Roman coins for like ten bucks each. Does that sound like something he’d like? If we ordered it today I’m sure it’d be here by the time you leave next week.”

“I—yeah, I think so,” Roman said, having the sudden urge to hug Val. “Thank you.”

She smiled. “No problem. Let’s go downstairs; we can pick one out, and you’ll pay me back once you deposit that check of yours.”

…

They ended up choosing a coin that was about $15, with positive reviews, guaranteed to arrive well before he left. Val placed the order, and then she took Roman to a garden store.

“Sure, you could wait and go with Patton and my brother, but my brother has no taste in plants, and Patton’ll probably buy whatever plant looks the saddest because he feels bad for it. Or end up accidentally getting a plastic one. You think I’m joking, but he literally did that once.”

So, Val and Roman went to the garden store alone. They picked out a little plant with small blue flowers, in a cute ceramic pot that had been glazed a darker blue.

Patton and Logan were sitting at the kitchen table when they walked in.

“What’s that?” Patton asked when he saw the plant in Roman’s arms.

“Present for my mamá,” Roman explained. “Val took me to get it.”

“Oh, she’s going to love that, kiddo!”

Roman smiled. “You think so?”

“Of course! It’s so pretty. What kind is it?”

“It’s…” Roman checked the label. “It’s a… myositis. Forget-me-nots.”

“Oh, cool!” Patton said.

“That can’t be right,” Logan said, frowning. “Myositis is a term for muscle inflammation.”

Roman blinked, then checked the tag again. “Sorry, it’s myosotis.”

“That does make more sense,” Logan said. “Interesting. Were you aware that that name translates to “mouse’s ear” in Ancient Greek?”

“Why do you know that?” Roman asked, staring at him. “Who just knows things like that off the top of their head?”

Val started snickering. Logan shrugged, looking embarrassed.

…

Roman was starting to think that being homeless and unemployed hadn’t been so bad. At least then he hadn’t had to deal with this hell spawn.

“I can’t do it!” Roman wailed as he flung open the door (while still making sure it didn’t smack the wall). “I can’t do it! He is the worst!”

Patton, who had been standing at the kitchen counter, cutting up vegetables, set down his knife, looking concerned.

“What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

Roman sighed, walking over to him. He put his elbows on the counter and hid his face in his hands. “It’s this guy I work with.”

“Your manager? Thomas?” Patton guessed.

“No, not him—he’s great. The other one.”

“What’s wrong with him?”

“He hates me, and I don’t know why!”

“Come on, kiddo, I’m sure that’s not true.” Patton picked up the knife and started slicing carrots again, still watching him between cuts to show he was paying attention.

“It is! He acts like every time I mess up, I’m doing it just to spite him, and then he gets on my back about it, which only makes me mess up more, and then he gets even more annoyed at me….”

“Could it just be growing pains? It’s only your second week. Maybe he just needs some time to get used to you.”

“I thought so too, but…” Roman sighed heavily. “It is not working.”

Patton paused. “If it’s really so bad, maybe you could look into possibly working somewhere else? Tons of places would be lucky to have you.”

Roman looked up sharply. “No… no, I’m not doing that.” He shook his head. “I do that, he wins.”

Patton bit his lip uncertainly.

“At least tomorrow is his day off,” Roman sighed. “So I get a break.”

“Well, that’s good,” Patton said. He pushed the carrots into a bowl with the potatoes he’d already cubed, and he picked up an onion. As he started to peel the skin off of that, he said, “Maybe it’ll be nice for both of you to get a break from each other. It could be you’ve just spent too much time together lately.”

“Yeah. Could be. I just don’t know what his problem is.”

Patton glanced up, humming thoughtfully. “Do you think any of this has anything to do with your visit coming up?”

Roman hesitated. “Maybe,” he admitted.

A major source of stress for him at the moment—maybe the main source of stress—was the fact that he was set to visit his parents at the end of the week, for the first time in a long time. If you considered five years to be a long time.

It certainly didn’t help that at the start of those five years, Roman had lied to them about heading to college and basically vanished off the face of the earth, leaving them with no idea where he had gone or if he was even still alive. That is, until Patton and Logan had convinced him to call his mamá the week before.

Ever since then, he had been calling her every evening before dinner, to talk. Mostly, they talked about unimportant things. How their days had been (Roman always sugar-coated things if they hadn’t gone well), what they were up to (you know, besides the homelessness), and how much they were looking forward to seeing each other when Roman was able to get enough time off for a visit.

Getting the time off he needed had turned out to be easier than expected. Roman’s schedule already gave him weekends free, so he had only requested one additional day—a Monday.

He hadn’t been sure whether to be relieved or sad that he had had to wait an additional week to go, since they’d been understandably reluctant to give him a day off in his second week on the job.

Of course, both Thomas and V, all that Roman knew his other coworker by, knew that Roman was taking the day off. Thomas hadn’t seemed to mind coming in on that Monday—since he usually took that day off—but V hadn’t seemed all that enthused. The fact that Roman was taking a long weekend after only working at the Sanders Café for two weeks hadn’t helped the barista’s opinion of him.

As one might imagine, Roman’s stress about the upcoming visit did not go well with the attitude V took with him, and it had already lead to several clashes.

As exemplified by today.

“Want to help me cut up some veggies?” Patton asked. “We’re going to roast them for dinner later tonight. Maybe it’ll help to take out some of that stress on an onion.” He picked up the newly peeled onion and offered it to Roman.

Roman sighed. “Sure.” He went to the sink, washed his hands, and took the onion and knife from Patton. “How do you want this cut?”

“However you like, within reason!” Patton said. “How about I heat up some leftovers for you, for lunch, while you do that? We’ve still got some spaghetti.”

“Sounds good. Thank you, Patton.”

…

Patton sat curled up on the sofa with Logan, only half-watching the news that his boyfriend had put on. After a while, he stretched and sat up.

“I’m going to go check on Roman. He seemed pretty upset when he came home from work today.”

Logan frowned, turning to look at him. “Did he say what was going on?”

“Some kind of disagreement with someone he works with. But I think he’s really just stressed about this weekend.”

Logan nodded. “That seems reasonable.”

“Anyway, I’ll be right back.”

“Okay.” Logan reached out, held his hand for a fraction of a second, and then let Patton go. Patton got up, walked past Val, who was reading, and went upstairs.

He stopped outside Roman’s room, whose door was slightly ajar, and knocked softly. “Roman?” he asked.

He waited, but he didn’t get an answer, so he tried again. When that still went without a reply, Patton gently pushed open the door, wondering if maybe Roman had fallen asleep.

The room was empty.

“Hm.” Patton leaned forwards to look around inside the room, but unsurprisingly, Roman wasn’t hiding in any corners.

He backed up, returned the door to how it had been before, and looked around.

Finally, he realized that he could hear something, faint, but not so faint that he thought it was coming from downstairs. Patton followed the sound.

Was that singing?

He stopped outside the bathroom, which was dark other than the light let in through the tiny, curtained window, but whose door wasn’t quite closed.

Roman stood in front of the sink, singing a song that Patton didn’t recognize. He was singing very quietly, but it was like he was serenading himself, complete with acting.

He also looked like he’d been crying.

Patton, who had been about to knock before he caught a glimpse of Roman in the mirror, stepped back before Roman could spot him. He did want to stay and try to help, but he really felt like he was intruding. Whatever Roman was doing, it seemed to be some kind of self-soothing method. Maybe it was a little unusual to serenade oneself in the mirror, but if it helped cheer Roman up, then Patton wasn’t going to judge him.

Patton quietly padded back down the hall and went back downstairs.

He settled himself back against Logan, who took his hand again. Patton read a headline on the TV screen about that week’s tragedy and sighed, turning his head so his face was against Logan.

“How’s Roman?” Logan asked, subtly changing the channel to one showing reruns of an old sitcom. “Did you talk to him?”

“He didn’t seem like he wanted to be bothered,” Patton replied, looking up again.

Logan nodded in understanding, although he was frowning.

“Is he okay?” Val asked as she turned a page in her book.

“I’m not sure,” he admitted. “He’s really nervous about this weekend.”

Logan fiddled with the remote without actually changing any settings. “I’d assume he’s afraid that his parents will reject him,” he said.

Val gave him a look. “Please don’t say that when he’s down here.”

“I don’t think it’s likely,” Logan quickly clarified. “They’ve seemed eager to talk to him thus far.”

“They’d better not turn him away,” Patton said. “I’ll fight them.”

“I thought we agreed you wouldn’t be fighting anyone. Besides, if they were going to turn him away, I’m sure it would have happened by now.”

Val closed her book, resting her head on one hand. “Whether it’s realistic or not, he’s obviously upset. And it’s probably not helping him, locking himself away upstairs with his thoughts. We should ask him to come downstairs in a few minutes. He likes to help with dinner, right?”

Patton glanced at the time. “That’s true. We should probably start cooking soon.”

“You cut up the vegetables like I asked?” Logan checked.

“Yep! Roman and I did.”

“Thanks. It shouldn’t take too long, then.”

Val set her book to the side. “Should I go grab him then, or…?”

“I’ll give him a few more minutes and then I’ll do it,” Patton said.

“Okay.”

A few minutes later, Patton walked back up the stairs. He was relieved to see that the light was on in Roman’s room now.

He knocked on the door, and waited for an answer.

A moment later, the door opened, to reveal Roman. He smiled, and if Patton hadn’t seen him before, he might not have known Roman had been so upset. “Hey, Patton. What’s going on?”

Patton smiled back, deciding not to bring it up. “We were planning to start dinner soon. Want to help?”

…

Roman had been making a point of getting to work early ever since his mistake the week before. So, it was no surprise that he was the first employee to arrive at the café that morning. It was a surprise, though, when neither V nor Thomas showed up. Instead, two younger employees, probably 18 years old or so, took their places: Talyn and Joan. Roman had worked with each of them before when they occasionally joined his shift, but never at the same time.

“Is Thomas not coming?” Roman asked, watching as the pair approached. He’d known it was V’s day off, and that Thomas didn’t come in every day, but usually their manager worked whenever V didn’t.

“He’s sick,” Talyn said, pulling on their apron. Joan went into the back to put their things away.

“Oh. Is he okay?”

Talyn shrugged. “He calls in sometimes. He asked me to take his place today.”

“Okay.”

“Joan and I can finish getting everything set up back here. Want to take the chairs down?”

“Sure.” Roman walked out from behind the counter to do just that.

“So how are you liking this place so far?” they asked as Joan returned from the back.

“It’s alright,” Roman shrugged. When V wasn’t getting on his last nerve, at least.

“Just alright?” Joan asked.

Roman flushed slightly. He didn’t want to complain about his job, not at his job, to his coworkers. That didn’t seem like a good plan at all.

Joan laughed. “Relax, I’m just teasing. It can be tough, at the start. Customers are something else. Plus I know Virgil can be prickly.”

Roman blinked. “What?”

“Virgil?” Joan looked confused. “The barista you work with?”

“Oh, right, sorry. I didn’t quite hear you,” Roman lied. He had a feeling he’d get teased if he admitted he’d gone nearly two weeks only knowing Virgil as V, or as the numerous aliases of the other worker’s name tag collection. “Glad to hear it’s not just me.”

“Has Virgil been treating you okay?” Talyn asked.

“Yeah. He can be kinda pushy, but he’s okay… most of the time. I do like his name tag collection.” Roman had tried to compliment Virgil on one of the name tags, pointing out that it was funny that the barista chose to wear one that said “Mary Lee”, and had only gotten even more hostility in response. Maybe Virgil didn’t want Roman to acknowledge that the name tags didn’t have the barista’s actual name on them? Maybe Virgil misunderstood, and thought Roman was making fun of whoever the actual Mary Lee was?

Whatever the case, trying to be that creepy cookie’s friend was proving rather difficult. Thomas’s “Storm Cloud” nickname made a lot of sense.

Talyn bit their lip, glancing at Joan, then looked back at Roman. Roman blinked, unsure what that was about. “Virgil can take a while to warm up to people, sometimes,” they said. “It’s probably nothing to worry about.”

Not long after, it was time to open up the café, and the attention of the three baristas was diverted to the grumpy swarm of early morning coffee-seekers.

It was a busy morning, with a lot of disgruntled people who thought they were entitled to their caffeine before anyone else and didn’t even tip well (if at all), but at least Talyn and Joan didn’t get mad at Roman for spilling a few coffee grounds, or for nearly forgetting the whipped cream on one of the orders. That was a welcome change.

Still, that afternoon, Roman spent most of his time holed up in the former guest room, trying not to stress too much about the next day, which was, of course, his last day of work before he got to go see his parents for the first time in years and hope they wouldn’t turn him away.

…

The following day, Virgil was back at work. And as tired of Roman was of his coworker hounding him like every little mistake he made would bring on the apocalypse, he did have some new information at his disposal, and he was going to take advantage of it.

Roman looked up as the barista came in, reluctantly lowering the headphones that had doubtlessly been blasting some sort of emo music moments before.

“Hey, Virgil,” he said pointedly, grinning.

Virgil hardly bothered to glance up, grabbing one of the aprons that still hung on the wall. “Hey, Princey.”

Roman was almost offended by that lackluster response. “How’s it going, Virgil?” he tried again, louder and with more emphasis.

“Fine?” Virgil said, giving him a strange look. “How’s it going, Roman?”

Roman sighed. “Disappointing.”

“What?”

Whoops. Virgil wasn’t supposed to actually hear that. He scrambled for an excuse. “…I said disappearing. The sun is gonna be disappearing sooner. The days are getting shorter again. You know.”

Virgil glanced outside, at where the sun was just beginning to rise, bemused. “I guess?”

“Aaaanyway. How was your day off?” Roman asked, tying his own apron in place.

“It was great. I actually got to miss the sunrise, for once.” Virgil started taking down chairs from the tables, putting them in place on the floor. “It was over pretty fast, though. Sure would be nice to take three days off in a row.”

Roman frowned.

“What are you doing this weekend, anyway? Video games? Binging Lord of the Rings or something?”

Roman let out a long sigh. “I’m visiting my parents,” he reluctantly admitted. “I haven’t seen them in a while.” Ever since Virgil had found out about Roman’s days off so soon after starting the job, Roman had skirted around answering the question of why he was taking that break. And while it still wasn’t really any of Virgil’s business, Roman was getting tired of this, and really didn’t want to deal with passive aggression when he was already worried enough. Today was Friday, and Roman was getting on the bus to go see his family that very afternoon.

Virgil’s mouth thinned. “Oh.”

The other barista turned away without another word, and didn’t bring up Roman’s days off again that shift. Roman felt that this was worth the admission. It would have probably been nearly unbearable otherwise, since Thomas was apparently still not feeling well, so it was just the two of them for the entire shift. As it was, other than Thomas being gone, Roman might have said that things were going… at least sort of well. Virgil wasn’t getting on his back too much, he wasn’t messing up as much as he’d expected, given how much he was thinking about that weekend (although he still messed up quite a bit more than usual). But of course, his luck couldn’t last.

He took a break during a lull in customers, and he came back, opening his mouth to tell Virgil to go ahead and take a break in the back, now.

But no words came out of his mouth. Instead, he froze.

Standing in the middle of the café, reading the menu, was a familiar figure. His dark hair was swept to partially cover his face, and he wore a black faux leather jacket over a band t-shirt.

Jay.

Roman felt dizzy.

“Roman?”

Roman shook his head, took a step back, and then sat down hard on the tile floor.

“Roman! F*ck, okay, hold on—Sorry, sir, get out, please! The store’s closed! Bye!”

“What the hell are you talking ab—”

“Store’s closed!”

Virgil herded the guy out, and as he disappeared out the door, Roman got a better look at his face. It wasn’t Jay at all. Just some guy who looked ridiculously like Jay.

“Dammit,” he whispered, wishing this realization would stop his heart from pounding, would erase the way he’d just embarrassed himself, was continuing to embarrass himself.

Virgil knelt down in front of him, hovering uncertainly. “Hey. Hey, Princey, what’s going on? Are you okay?”

Roman shook his head, his attempts to breathe only strangled gasps. It was all just too much. The stress of this new job, and the visit this weekend, and thinking he’d seen Jay, who’d been a catalyst in all of this— It was too much.

“I think you might be having a panic attack.” Virgil shifted uncertainly, hovering around him. “Does that sound right?”

Roman shakily nodded.

“Okay. Okay, good. No ambulance, then. That’s great. I mean, not great that you’re panicking, that—never mind. Can I help?”

“Yeah,” he gasped. Please make this stop.

“Cool. Cool, cool. Try breathing with me. It’s an exercise I use when I get anxiety attacks.” Virgil started with a long inhale, counting off a pattern.

“In, 2, 3, 4… hold, 2 3, 4, 5, 6, 7… out, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8.”

Roman did his best to follow the pattern, with difficulty at first; but soon enough, rather than freaking out, he was a more reasonable amount of mortified, and this time more about the fact that he’d freaked out in the middle of the café, in front of Virgil, than about anything else.

Virgil seemed relieved when it was clear that Roman was no longer panicking. The barista looked him over for a moment, then offered him a hand up.

“I think maybe you should go in the back for a little longer,” Virgil suggested as Roman was pulled to his feet. “I can take my break later.”

“…Yeah, maybe,” Roman admitted, not meeting Virgil’s eyes. “Might be a good idea.”

Virgil led him to the back room, shoved a plastic cup of tea in his hands, and promised to return in a bit.

Roman sat there, sipping his tea, wishing he could sink into the floor.

Several minutes later, Virgil returned.

“Sorry,” Roman said as soon as he saw that distinctive purple hair, gripping his cooling cup of tea tightly. “I didn’t….”

Virgil sat down on the arm of the sofa. “What was that about?”

Roman shook his head.

Virgil sighed, glancing back towards the main area of the store. “Fine, don’t tell me. But are you, like… good? You’re not going to freak out on me again?”

“No, I’m… I’m fine.”

Virgil looked at him doubtfully. Roman set his jaw, and then Virgil nodded. “Alright. Maybe clean yourself up a bit, though.”

Roman felt his cheeks burn. He nodded.

As Virgil turned to leave, Roman cleared his throat.

“…Thanks, Virgo.”

Virgil paused, turned, and said, “I’m a Sagittarius,” before leaving the room.

Under different circumstances, Roman might have laughed. As it was, he simply took a deep breath, set the remains of his tea to the side, got to his feet, and went to the employee bathroom. Looking in the mirror, he had to admit he looked rather… disheveled. He’d definitely seen worse days, that was for sure; but his hair was a mess, and his eyes were red and watery like he’d been crying.

(Had he been crying? He suddenly wasn’t sure.)

Roman reached over for a paper towel, folded it over, and ran the water over it for a second. He stood there at the sink for a while, the cool, damp paper towel held against his eyes. Once the redness had died down, he combed his hair with his fingers until it was back to its normal groomed appearance. Finally, he took a deep, steadying breath, washed his hands, and returned to the front of the store. Virgil looked up when he appeared, in the middle of making a cappuccino, and nodded.

Roman resumed his post without a word, and they both pretended like nothing had happened.

When Roman went back to the house that afternoon, he didn’t complain about Virgil, for once. Of course, he did have other things to think about. Like the little detail that he was leaving in only a couple of hours.

…

“Are you sure you have everything?” Logan asked as the trio walked to the bus station. They’d parked a couple of blocks away, since the parking spots at the station itself were metered, and rather expensive. Logan had offered to park there anyway, but Roman had insisted that he was fine with parking farther away. It was a nice day, anyhow; and he would be spending quite a while on a bus. “There’s still a little time, if we have to stop somewhere.”

“I think so,” Roman said, adjusting his grip on the handle of the small, baby blue suitcase Patton had lent him. It rolled behind them, occasionally bumping over an uneven patch of sidewalk. “I don’t have a lot of stuff.”

“And you’re sure you’ll be okay by yourself?” Patton checked. He held the small potted plant that Roman and Val had picked up as a present for Roman’s mamá. He almost seemed more nervous than Roman. Almost.

Roman swallowed, then nodded. “Yeah. I’m sure. It’s just a bus ride. My parents are going to pick me up at the station.”

Patton reached over to squeeze his hand. “They know what time you’re getting in?”

Roman nodded. “And I can always call, if I need to…. Thanks again for the phone, by the way.” They’d picked him up a cheap, prepaid one for emergencies, since Roman hadn’t had a phone of his own in a very long time.

“It’s no problem,” Patton said. “Just be safe, okay?”

Roman gave him a shaky smile.

“There’s the station,” Logan said, gesturing across the street. “Which bus are we looking for?”

“17,” Roman provided. He didn’t even need to check his ticket. He’d spent long enough staring at it the night before.

Logan glanced to make sure no cars were coming, then started across the street. He and Patton were already scanning the busses collected at the station, looking for the correct one.

“I don’t think it’s here yet,” Logan said. “That’s not surprising. We are early, after all.”

“Let’s find a bench to sit on,” Patton suggested.

Logan didn’t exactly look enthused, but he went along with Patton’s suggestion. They found an empty bench, and Roman and Patton sat down. There was still room on the bench, but Logan stayed standing.

“Perhaps I could pick us up some coffee from inside,” he suggested.

Patton giggled. “Only if Roman’s not sick of coffee yet.”

Roman cracked a smile. “Maybe just water for me. Lemonade if they have it. But water’s okay.”

Patton requested whatever coffee drink was the sweetest, iced.

Logan nodded and walked off towards the station’s building.

“He just doesn’t want to sit down,” Patton said, leaning over conspiratorially. “Logan hates public benches.”

“Logan hates public everything.”

“You’re not wrong!” he laughed. He set the plant at his side. “So, do you and your parents know what you’re going to do this weekend?”

Roman thought for a moment, then shrugged. “I hadn’t really thought about it.” He’d been too busy worrying.

“You don’t always need a plan. Maybe it’ll be nice to just get to hang out with them, catch up.”

“Or awkward as hell.”

“Ehh.” Patton shrugged. “Maybe at first, I won’t lie to you.”

“Yeah.”

“But they’re going to be really happy to see you. I’m sure they’ve missed you a lot.”

“…Yeah.” Roman knew they had. But he couldn’t help the terror bubbling up inside him, just under the surface, at what they would think when they saw him. At how angry they would be.

Apparently Roman’s silent dread had not been as hidden as he’d hoped.

“Don’t make me hug you,” Patton threatened, pointing at him.

Roman let out a startled laugh.

“I’ll do it! You know I will!”

“I do,” Roman agreed. He watched as another bus pulled up. Number 33. Still not his.

“They did have lemonade,” a voice said. Roman glanced up to see Logan, holding out a bottled lemonade. He took it. It was cool and already slightly damp with condensation.

“Thanks.”

Logan offered Patton another drink from the carrier in his arms. His was a very pale brown, mixed with ice and with whipped cream and drizzles of caramel and chocolate on top.

“Ooh, thank you!” Patton said. He hopped up, kissed Logan on the cheek, and then sat down, sipping loudly from his straw.

Logan coughed, his face slightly red. “You’re welcome. Has his bus arrived?”

“Not ye—oh! There it is!” Patton pointed. A new bus had just pulled in, the number 17 in its window.

“Excellent.”

Roman leaned over to look at a clock on the station wall. He still had ten minutes before he had to be on the bus. Reassured, he sat back and opened his lemonade, taking a sip.  Then he recapped it and put the lemonade in his lap, tapping on its sides with his fingers. “You guys don’t have to stay if you don’t want to. I’ll be fine.”

“No, no,” Patton insisted. “We’re going to make sure you get on your bus alright.”

“It would be rather unfortunate if we left early, and something happened,” Logan agreed.

Roman exhaled through his nose. “Okay. If you’re sure.”

“Yep! Besides, I can’t finish this in the car.” Patton took another loud sip of his drink. “So we’ve gotta stay!”

“True.” Logan was generally pretty insistent about there being no open drinks in his car. Or at least, that was the idea Roman had gotten so far.

Logan took a drink of his own iced black coffee and shrugged. “Coffee would be difficult to get out of the upholstery,” he justified. “Like any darkly colored beverage. One time, one of Val’s friends spilled fruit punch in her car. It was a figurative nightmare to get that out. I refuse to go through that again with my own vehicle.”

Roman glanced at Patton, who looked amused. “That’s fair.”

A few more minutes passed, with the three of the just enjoying their drinks, before Patton glanced at the time on his phone. “We should probably get you on that bus, don’t you think, Ro? You don’t want to get a bad seat.”

Roman shifted. “…I guess.”

Patton looked at him sympathetically. “Don’t worry. You’ll be okay.” He stood up, grabbing the plant; and Roman reluctantly followed, pulling the suitcase along behind himself.

In no time at all, they stood in front of the bus door, and Patton was handing the plant off to Logan and pulling Roman into a tight hug.

“Don’t be afraid to call us if you need anything at all, okay? I’m serious.”

“Okay.”

“Okay. Now go see your parents.”

“Have a pleasant trip,” Logan said as Patton released him. He offered a hand, and Roman accepted. Logan shook it.

“Thanks. I’ll… see you guys.”

“Good luck.”

Roman took a deep breath, picked up the suitcase and took the plant back from Logan, and stepped up onto the bus before he could change his mind.

“Hello, sweetheart,” the driver said, smiling kindly at him. She was probably in her fifties, and had clearly noticed how apprehensive he was. She held out a hand. “Have you got your ticket?”

“Yeah—um,” Roman pulled it out of his pocket, quickly did his best to smooth it out, and handed it over. “Here.”

The woman looked at it for a second, smiled, and handed it back. “Welcome aboard. Usually, we have everyone put their luggage in the storage area under the bus, but I think yours is small enough that you can keep it up here, if you’d like. We don’t have a full bus today. Do you have a preference?”

“Could I keep it?” Roman asked. It was Patton’s suitcase, and he was afraid that it might get damaged—or worse, disappear—if he let it out of his sight.

“Of course. You can go ahead and pick whatever seat you’d like.”

“Thank you,” Roman said. He turned to the rest of the bus, which was about a quarter of the way full with other passengers. He picked a seat about a third of the way from the front, beside the window, and put Patton’s suitcase and his mamá’s gift at his side.

He looked out the window, and saw Patton and Logan there, on the sidewalk. Patton noticed him and perked up, waving and batting at his boyfriend to get his attention. Logan waved as well, with significantly less energy, looking amused.

Roman hesitantly waved back.

He spent the remaining time until the bus departed just trying to keep calm, reminding himself that he did in fact want to do this, that it was a little late to back out even if he wanted to, and that even if his visit went about as horribly as it could go, Logan and Patton had promised that they wanted him to come back.

Finally, the bus driver stood up. She reminded everyone of which bus this was and the route they were taking, just in case someone was on the wrong bus, and how long the trip would take. Then, she sat back down, and they left the station.

Patton and Logan waved until they turned a corner, and then Roman was alone.

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, then turned to the suitcase. He unzipped it and pulled out a book, which Logan had lent him for the trip. He settled in, doing his best to focus on the story rather than on his fear over what was to come.

[oh-obrien]

Inscrutable {5}

Inscrutable: Impossible to Understand or Interpret

Relationships: Stiles Stilinski x Original Female Character

Word Count: 6,186 6,485

Warnings: None

Author’s Note: I am back!!! Sorry for the delay I just had a really rough go for a couple weeks. Now, an angsty chapter that may wrap up well before shit starts to go down. Message me or send me an ask to be tagged!!

THIS PART OF INSCRUTABLE HAS BEEN UPDATED WITH MORE CONTENT AND HAS ALSO BEEN EDITED MORE THROUGHLY!

“Beacon Hills is honestly pretty chill right now, man.” Scott shrugged and ran a hand through his messy hair, looking over at Malia for her to confirm his statement. However, Stiles also knew his dad had told Scott to keep everything that had been going on in Beacon Hills on the down low from Stiles, not wanting him more distracted from school than he would be normally. Malia’s hesitant nod only aided in confirming Stiles’ suspicions. “Seriously!” Scott added when he saw Stiles’ gaze narrow. “Me and Derek got it, we’re like, a power couple?” His voice went up a little bit at the end, making it sound like a question. “Yeah, I think that’s the right term!” He just shrugged afterwards, not really caring if his terminology had been correct or not.

Malia rolled her eyes at Scott, “seriously, Stiles,” she started. “We have everything under control here, you and Lydia should just be concerned about college right now.” Stiles took a deep breath and shook his head, about to tell the pair he could see through their lies when his phone started ringing. 

He quickly jerked his head over to where his phone sat on his bed and squinted, making sure he read the caller ID right. “Who’s that, bro?” Scott asked after seeing his best friend’s confused look.

“Uhh, Finley,” he said, picking up his phone and answering the call. “Hey, everything okay?” Stiles asked, his tone filled with genuine concern. Stiles knew that Finley had been going to see her dad earlier that morning, and he also knew from what she had said the night before that their relationship was slightly strained at the moment to say the least. 

“No. Stiles, I- I need to talk to you.” Her voice cracked towards the end and Stiles’ eyes widened as he looked up to see Scott and Malia watching and listening in confusion. Thank God they couldn’t use their were-hearing to listen in on the phone call, if they could Scott would have even more questions than he already would.

Stiles took in a sharp breath, “okay,” he tried to sound as soothing as possible, now would not be the best time for his anxiety to take over. Well take over noticeably, he already felt himself starting to panic slightly. “Right now, you’re safe though?” He tried to run through questions he knew his dad would as if he received a similar phone call. Stiles heard a small ‘mmhum’ from Finley and let out a sigh of relief. “Do you need me to come get you from somewhere, I can’t drive since I don’t have a car here, but I can come get you.”

“No,” she sniffled. Why would she be crying? “I just think I need to talk to you; can you meet me at my dorm in like an hour and a half?” An hour and a half seemed awfully long when she clearly sounded upset. However, if that’s how long she needed he would agree.

Stiles looked at the clock on his desk and noticed it had already passed noon. The pair had slept in until nearly ten, but he didn’t realize it had already hit noon. By the time he got to her dorm it would be nearly two in the afternoon. “I can do that,” he said, “do you need me to bring anything,”

“No, thank you,” she said quietly. “I’ll see you soon?”

Stiles couldn’t help but smile a little bit, despite how upset she sounded. He watched Scott raise his eyebrow and smirk and Stiles rolled his eyes at his best friend before responding.  “I’ll see you soon,” he went to pull the phone away from his face before adding, “call sooner if you need anything.” After hearing an ‘okay’ he said goodbye before hanging up. 

Stiles saw Scott and Malia still watching him. “So?” Scott dragged out the word. 

“She asked if I could swing by her dorm in an hour and a half,” Stiles looked down at his phone, confused. “She sounded like she was- crying?” He watched Malia’s face morph into confusion while Scott pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, clearly thinking. Which could be dangerous. At least there wasn’t any smoke coming out of his ears this time. Stiles swore it used to happen in school on occasion.

Stiles sank back into his bed even more than he had been before letting out a long sigh, pulling at the ends of his messy hair. “Uhh,” Scott started, “did anything like happen last night that could trigger a reaction like that?” He asked, clearly trying to help Stiles think over possibilities as to why Finley would be crying and want to see him.

“N- no,” Stiles stuttered out trying to think, “she seemed - well she got upset talking about like couples and how she’s never had a boyfriend or even a fling,” he spoke. “I don’t - I really don’t think talking about this would help my anxiety at all right now so, if we can just not focus on that I’d be happy,” Stiles started fidgeting with his fingers. 

“Yeah, totally man,” Scott smiled. “So, Chris and my Mom last weekend-”

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

Finley walked into her room and dropped her backpack on her floor, not caring about the new files her father had given her at the office earlier that morning. If they wrinkled in her bag, then so be it. She hadn’t even bothered to ask what they had in them after they had been handed to her. She shoved them into her bag before going off on a ramble about Stiles and how she hated how right everything felt with him. That had been before she got dragged to lunch with her uncle and wound up leaving the restaurant like some type of lunatic though. 

Pulling off her wet long sleeve shirt she dropped it in the middle of the floor with a loud, wet plop and sat down on her desk chair to pull off her jeans that stuck to her legs. She knew that her suitemates would still be out to lunch with a few of the guys on the men’s lacrosse team, so she didn’t care about pushing the bathroom door open in only her bra and underwear, both also soaked through.  

She pulled her bra and underwear off before looking herself over in the mirror. She still felt chilled to the bone from her walk back to campus in the rain, especially since it had been an unusually cold day. She looked exhausted, like she hadn’t slept in weeks. She let out a long breath of air and poked at the bags under her eyes. She had gotten the best sleep she had in months the night before, but she couldn’t help but feel absolutely exhausted. Talking about her family tended to do that to her though. It would forever be a topic that mentally drained her, no matter who she talked to about it with.

Finley made sure to lock the bathroom door that led into her suitemates’ room, just in case, before starting the shower, turning the handle to as hot as she knew she could tolerate without burning her skin. It would heal over almost immediately, but blistering her skin never tended to feel great. Stepping into the shower and letting the water run over her body, Finley felt her shoulders drop and her clenched jaw loosen, heaps of tension running out of her body and down the drain with the water. 

Resting her back against the tile wall of the shower, Finley closed her eyes and tried not to cry, tried to continue to let the water wash away her problems, even if it only lasted a few minutes. She wished that the water could wash away the memories she had of the past year and a half of her life, she wished she could replace them with something new, something better. However, she had accepted the past year months earlier, understanding that she couldn’t change things that had already happened. She also learned that dwelling on the memories would just make the recovery longer, harder; that wasn’t something she wanted to do to herself.

Finally opening her eyes again, Finley went through her shower routine slowly, trying to let water relax her tense body even more. After finishing rinsing any trace of suds out of her hair and off her body, Finley turned the water off before stepping out of the shower and wrapping a fluffy towel around herself, thanking her past self for doing laundry yesterday afternoon. She picked up her soaked bra and underwear before wandering back into her room. Closing her blinds, and setting her soaked undergarments in her hamper, Finley then dropped her towel from around her body and used it to dry off her hair, shivering while the cold air wrapped around her again. 

“Hoodie, hoodie, hoodie,” she mumbled to herself while sifting through the things she had hung up in her closet. Finally pulling out one of her old lacrosse hoodies from high school, she threw it on her bed while grabbing clean underwear and a sports bra out of her drawers. After pulling her undergarments and a clean pair of shorts on she plugged in her diffuser and fairy lights before throwing her backpack with the files her dad had given her on her bed. She shrugged on her hoodie and climbed into her bed, taking a moment to compose herself fully. 

Finley pulled one of her throw blankets over her lap before dragging her backpack closer and pulled her phone out of its front pocket and noticed calls from her father and uncle. After sending them both a text assuring them that she had gotten back to her dorm fine, she unzipped the largest pocket of her bag, dragging a heft stack of files out and setting them next to herself. She dropped her backpack on her floor with a quiet thud and pushed her glasses further up her nose, reaching over to her desk to grab her bag of highlighters and different colored pens. She needed to talk to Stiles, but until he got to her room, the files would have to serve as an adequate distraction. 

She grabbed the first folder and noticed that a few staples had made indents that showed through the cover, turning it to the side she read the label on the tab. ‘J. Whittemore’, had been scrawled across the tab in a red sharpie, the handwriting definitely her father’s. She pulled it open and looked at the profile stapled to the inside, chewing on the inside of her cheek while she did so. She noticed something circled in red and her eyes were instantly drawn to it, the rest of the individual’s profile quickly being forgotten. The words ‘Attended Beacon Hills High School’ were those circled in red, the neat Times New Roman font almost mocking her while she read them over and over again.

Pulling the next file over to herself Finley Again read the identification tab, ‘L. Dunbar’. She again opened the folder and saw the same three words circled. Setting her highlighter down she laid all the files out on top of each other, the identification tabs lining up neatly. 

L. Martin. 

I. Lahey. 

K. Yukimura. 

M. Tate. 

M. Hewit.

C. Bryant. 

E. Steiner. 

T. Raeken. 

D. Hale. She paused on that file, her teeth pulling a layer of skin off her bottom lip while she chewed on it. Hale wasn’t exactly a common last name, and Finley would have called herself stupid if she wasn’t the least bit suspicious of what exactly lived inside the files. Deciding to look back at the file after she confirmed her suspicions, Finley read the next identification tab.

S. McCall. Most definitely Scott McCall, she knew that without even opening the file.

M. Stilinski. Stiles hadn’t mentioned his father’s first name in any of their meetings, and she had remembered him stating it had just been him and his dad since he had been ten. So, it had to be a file on his father, but why would her dad need one?

Pulling the file out for ‘D. Hale’, before she even opened it, she knew it would be Derek Hale’s. Finley’s Pack had quite the alliance with the Hale’s, both in New York and California before the fire happened, she knew Derek himself quite well as they weren’t all that far apart in age. After the fire in Beacon Hills though, the Mannulv Pack had lost touch with the Hale family who remained in California, although their alliance with the New York Hale’s remained strong. 

Finley finally flipped the file open, and the identification photo stared back at her, it definitely was a picture of Derek, a much older Derek than she remembered, but still Derek. He no longer had the baby face that Finley remembered from when they had been younger, his features sharper and stubble covering his face. He had most definitely turned into the ‘handsome young man’, that Finley’s mother said he would years ago. She flipped through his entire file, noticing that much of it would be rather unnoteworthy, just normal facts about his life, his family, the fire. Nothing stuck out to Finley other than a warrant for ‘mass murder’ that had been dismissed.

With the Hale’s having once been the most powerful family in the were-community, and with the Mannulv family also having the same status, Finley had brushed shoulders with all of the Hale children when she had been younger. Cian had once looked up to Derek and always tried to talk to the older boy at weddings and other events that caused the two Packs to mingle, however, after the fire, Derek hadn’t been seen at any inter-pack events.

She opted to push Derek’s file aside and pull forward the one labeled ‘S. McCall’, Scott McCall’s file. Scott’s file was clearly the thickest in the pile, and Finley knew most of it would be information she didn’t need or want. She noted that the only thing that stood out had been the bolded line on his identification page stating that he had the current position of Alpha of the McCall pack, having presented as a True Alpha a few years earlier. Finley smirked and stacked Scott’s file on top of Derek’s. Two True Alpha’s meeting would be quite a rarity, but with Finley’s ability to control her territorial instincts and Scott’s rather limited knowledge on werewolf traditions, the pair would have no problem getting along. The other files that Finley’s father had given her had noted at the top of each first page that the individual was a member of the McCall Pack, but they presented to be a rather unusual mix of supernatural creatures.

After stacking all the remaining files together and setting them aside; Finley found her fingers wrapping around the final file, the file labeled ‘M. Stilinski’. She pulled her bottom lip before opening the folder, a picture of Stiles stapled to the cover and the bolded words, ‘Mieczyslaw “Stiles” Stilinski’, staring back at her. She quickly snapped the file closed before she picked up her phone and scrolled through her contacts. She pressed on her brother’s contact and hit the call button, her anxiety growing with every second that passed. She hadn’t gotten herself so worked up over something so quickly since her grandmother had told her she needed to move out of the main pack house for the ‘good of the family’. 

She started to gnaw on her bottom lip even harder while she waited for an answer and groaned out loud when she got his voicemail greeting. “Fucking football,” she locked her phone and threw it on her bed. “Why did he have to be good at football!”

She needed something else to distract her, she needed something else to think about. Adding Stile’s file to the top of the pile she pushed herself off her bed and picked up her backpack. With shaky hands she shoved all of the files into the bag before walking over to her closet. Finley found herself pushing her clothes out of the way so she could get to the back corner. She pressed the bag as far into the corner as it could go, as if it would make the files disappear, and pushed everything back in front of it. She still had to tell Stiles everything, she owed him it. She just had to accept that he already knew more than she thought he did. 

Finally, thinking of a distraction, Finley shuffled across her carpet and found herself in front of her wall of pictures. The same one that Stiles had been looking at the day before, admiring even. The thought of someone admiring the pictures of her and her family from the past year made her queasy, if only they all knew what had been going on. She swallowed thickly before looking at some of the pictures. Prom, nationals for her travel lacrosse team, all of her brother’s official college visits, she had plenty of good memories hung up on her wall. She would never deny that the wall had been filled with majority good memories. However, she also tried to hang up things that would make it seem as if she had a normal family life. It all felt fake, like she had put a huge lie up on display for anyone who entered her room to see. 

She had so many pictures of her family hung up, so many pictures she had to force herself to smile in, had to force herself to appear happy and healthy for. Pictures of her family in the pack house for birthday’s. Movie nights she had with her cousins before she moved into the guest cabin. She saw a picture of her entire family at the lake on their property for her and Cian’s birthday the previous year. After tearing her eyes away from the wall, Finley actually had to keep herself from getting nauseous at the memory. The twins’ last birthday at home had been a couple of months after they found out Finley had presented as a True Alpha and her grandmother hadn’t wanted to invite her to the party at all that day. She had only planned on throwing a party for Cian and had wanted to let Maxwell handle Finley, the animosity between Finley and her grandmother still too strong. The wounds were still too fresh.

Finley pulled her bottom lip between her teeth again and shuffled over to her desk, opening the top drawer she saw the pack of pushpins she had purchased to hang the photos up sitting right on top. Taking the plastic container between her hands she set it on the heating unit in front of her window, flipping the safety latch and opening it. Without thinking her hands started moving on her wall, pulling colored pushpins out of the corners of various pictures, letting the photos fall to the floor and putting the pushpins back in the right section of the container according to their colors. 

Finley had just pulled the last pushpin out of a picture from her sweet sixteen when she heard a knock on the door. She quickly turned on her heel, ignoring the tears she felt quickly gathering in the corners of her eyes, and set her foot flat on to the ground. “Motherfucker!” She felt a push-pin stick into the ball of her foot. Pulling it out she threw it in the garbage can before pausing near her door.

Stiles’ heartbeat sounded fast, too fast to write off as elevated just from him walking over to her dorm from his. He smelled like pure anxiety and nerves, she noticed it seeping under the door causing her face to scrunch up in disgust; anxiety had always been Finley’s least favorite of the emotions to be able to pick up on. It smelled tangy and sour, sometimes people’s anxiety would be so strong she swore she could taste it; like rotten lemons mixed with curdled milk. Putting her hand on the cool metal handle of her door she closed her eyes and felt the lock pop as it opened. There would be no going back now. “Hey, sorry to like,” she looked down at her feet while she opened the door, “do this,” why did she want to cry?

“No!” Stiles cleared his throat, waving his hands in front of himself. “I mean,” he sighed, “don’t be sorry, okay? I wasn’t sure if you were okay when you called and I just wanted to make sure you were,” he stepped into Finley’s dorm when she backed away from the door to let him in. He immediately noticed pictures scattered carelessly across her floor, some face up and some face down. There seemed to be no rhyme or reason as to where they were scatted in the room, and he noticed her wall of photos seemed to be mostly empty compared to yesterday. Did her make her uncomfortable looking at them? Oh god, he hoped not. She didn’t seem to mind then, but what if that had just been her being polite? Stiles took in a deep breath and turned back to Finley who still stood with her door open. 

Sighing, Finley closed her door and Stiles watched her pick up a soaked gray hoodie from on her empty desk and she hung it on the hook on the back of her door, a few drops of water falling off the sleeve cuffs. A pair of wet sneakers had been kicked into the corner of her room and a towel hung off the post of her bed. “I just- I got into it with my dad and uncle earlier,” she mumbled, bending down to pick up some of the photos on her carpet. Stiles tried to gauge her mood but couldn’t quite put his thumb on her emotions. Angry. Upset. Hurt. He wasn’t quite sure.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Stiles kneeled to pick up some of the photos Finley hadn’t yet collected, it seemed like a better solution than standing in her room awkwardly waiting for her to speak. He heard her let out a shaky sigh as she stood up, putting the photos in her hand on her bed. Stiles followed her actions and put the photos he had on top of her pile. Finley climbed into her bed and patted the mattress next to her.

Stiles toed off his shoes and left them on the edge of her carpet, momentarily wiggling his sock covered toes into the soft material of her carpet. He shuffled across the carpet and pushed himself up on to Finley’s bed, a dull ache from his first week of lacrosse still pulling at his muscles. He made sure that he left a comfortable distance between them, not wanting to make her uncomfortable, although she had seemed perfectly comfortable with him the night before. “I don’t exactly want to,” he watched her pull her bottom lip between her teeth, “but I feel like we need to. Sooner rather than later,” she added the last part after a small pause. 

“Finley, if you’re not com-”

“I’m never going to be comfortable talking about who, or I guess what I am. I’m never going to be comfortable talking about my family,” she saw Stiles open his mouth but cut him off, “but sometimes you have to step outside your comfort zone to set things right in life, Stiles.” She crossed her legs and turned to face him, her lip pulled between her bottom lip and a tight crease formed in her forehead while she started flipping through the photos that sat between them.

Stiles watched her shaky fingers flip through the photos, pausing on some for a few seconds before flipping to the next.

Eventually she settled on one, it pictured a large group of people, and she turned it face down between them. “So,” she looked up at him through the lenses of her glasses, her eyes red from crying and small bags starting to form under them. “I don’t really want to scare you away or anything, but uhh my family is kind of umm,” she trailed off, “unique.”

“Unless your family is running some super-secret and super fucked up cult I don’t think you can scare me away,” he laughed to try and lighten the mood. “You don’t know a lot about Beacon Hills,” he added to the end.

He watched Finley’s eyes widen before she let out a long sigh, “actually,” she said the word so quietly Stiles almost didn’t hear it. Did her family really run a super-secret, fucked up cult? “Y’know how my dad works for the CIA?” Stiles nodded slowly, wondering where Finley could possibly be taking the conversation. “Well, as you’ll find out one day. A lot of ‘conspiracy theories’ are true, and a lot of the time, the CIA is working on these things that people will tout as not possible, but you knew that already.”

“Okay,” Stiles dragged the word out, unsure where the conversation would head next. Hopefully it didn’t hang a left down Psycho Lane. “Like aliens being real or the concept that the world is really run by a singular governmental unit?” He offered two of the theories he knew were tossed around the internet quite often. Once he noticed a small smile pulled at the corner of Finley’s lips, he knew he had slightly diffused the tension in the room for a moment.

“Well,” she swallowed. “I can tell you I know who Scott McCall is, and I know Derek Hale uhh personally-” she trailed off for a few seconds. “And I know all about Scott’s Pack, your Pack” she flipped over the photo, Stiles’ heart beating even faster. “And I know that this is my Pack,” Stiles scanned the picture over, “well some of my Pack, that’s my immediate family.” There were probably about twenty people gathered around a lake, all squished very close together and smiling brightly. All except for Finley. She had a wide smile in the picture, but it wasn’t genuine. She didn’t have the usual dimples she would get when she actually smiled, and it didn’t quite reach her eyes. 

Finley pulled a few more pictures out of the pile and laid them out “I know that my dad and his four brothers are weres, that my grandma gave my grandpa the bite right before they got married.” She pointed to a picture of six individuals in front of the same lake, parents and four young boys all squished close together in it. They all looked strikingly similar, even for siblings.

“Who’s who?” Stiles found himself asking, leaning closer to Finley so he could see the picture better. He heard Finley take in a deep breath before she pulled another picture out of the pile. It pictured her in a short red cupcake dress that seemed to be covered in crystals, four men gathered around her and a wide smile on all of their faces. 

“Obviously,” she pointed to the man to her left, “that’s my dad. That’s my uncle Cayden,” she pointed to the man on her right, “next to my dad is Jordan and then next to Cayden is Todd.” She let out a quiet sigh before tucking the picture back into the pile. Stiles just nodded slowly, processing all the information.

A comfortable silence fell between the two while Finley flipped through pictures again, picking out another before she started talking. “I can tell you that most of my cousins are also weres and so are their kids,” she handed him a picture of her and Cian laying on the floor under a pile of younger kids. He saw adults laughing in the background and assumed those were the younger kids’ parents. There were so many kids in the photo, he had counted a baker’s dozen, that he wasn’t quite sure how anyone could handle them, but then again werewolf packs tended to share the child rearing duties. Stiles had done extensive research when Scott had first been turned, so he knew much more than he would usually admit. 

“And the pups are absolutely adorable when they chase you around full shift, like little puppies just learning to walk,” she flashed Stiles a picture of two wolf pups, her younger cousins, and even when they puppy pile you on the floor they’re kind of cute.” He saw a fond smile grace her face, obviously attached to the younger kids in her family. “I took care of them pretty often, I mean when my grandma still trusted me,” her smile faded. 

She grabbed a picture of her and Cian together, laying out in the middle of a large field, the almost full moon bright in the sky above them. “I can also tell you that Cian and I also happen to be weres ourselves, even though my mom never took the bite from my grandma, our Alpha.”

Finley looked up to Stiles when she finished speaking, her hands shaking much less and her anxiety decreasing with each breath she took. She noticed that Stiles’ heart still beat unusually fast, but he didn’t smell like anxiety anymore. His scent had returned to the one she had found comfort in the day before, he smelled warm and welcoming, she wanted to roll in that scent and never forget it. “So,” Stiles trialed off, picking up the photo of her family and looking it over. “You’re like all born wolves?” He asked.

Finley laughed lightly when he didn’t freak out, knowing she definitely wanted to keep him around now. “For the most part,” she let out a long sigh, “a couple of my aunts took the bite from my grandma and others didn’t.” She started flipping through pictures again. “But that’s my pack. That’s more of what a typical pack would look like, if you compare it to Scott’s obviously.” She watched Stiles set down the photo and he turned to face her. “And I totally understand if you want to like, not talk other than for the project just that had been eating away at me for a few weeks. Especially with Scott coming to visit soon, I didn’t want you to find out then because once we met it would be a dead giveaway. I just needed to tell you, it felt wrong not to, especially when you already know about our little world.”

Finley watched Stiles sink further back into her mattress while he shook his head, “I’ll stay,” he offered a smile, “as long as you get me that magic heating pad again?” Finley laughed and nodded, pushing herself off the bed and grabbing the heating pad from where she had left it on her floor that morning. She plugged it into her extension cord and handed it to Stiles before climbing back into her bed.

“Y’know, if you want me to like, take away the pain I’m able to do that right?” She offered. She saw Stiles’ eyes widen and he adjusted the heating pad on his back. His heartbeat had slowed down some, but it wasn’t quite at a normal resting rate yet, she assumed his discomfort contributed slightly. Finley assumed that his heart beating slightly father though would probably be normal, considering he had just found out he never really would be escaping the supernatural that he lived with in Beacon Hills. 

He closed his eyes and knotted his fingers together on his stomach, a sated smile on his face. “So, all of you are able to do that?” Finely crawled closer and let out a quiet hum in acknowledgement. 

“Some are better at it than others though,” she set her left hand over his that were clasped together, she felt her wolf dying to get even closer to Stiles in the back of her mind but pushed it away. “I learned really fast,” she watched Stiles’ pain climb up her arm and watched it fade under the rolled-up sleeve of her hoodie. “Took my brother a lot longer to learn that it took me.” Once she saw Stiles relax fully into her mattress and noticed his heart rate seemed normal again, she moved her hand off his despite her wolf trying to push her to be even closer to him still. 

Stiles opened one of his eyes to look at her, watching her crawl off her bed with her photos in hand. A comfortable silence fell between the pair and Stiles watched Finley slide a drawer on her one desk open. He noticed that Finley would look at each photo before she would place it inside the drawer, pausing longer on some than others. “So,” he opened both his eyes now and watched her closely, “why’d you take them all down?” He watched her pause for a second, bending the corner of the photo currently on top. 

“Complicated family dynamics,” she dumped the rest of the photos into the drawer without looking at any and closed it. “I uhh-” Finley sighed. “I don’t get along too well with some people in my family,” she shrugged and crawled into her bed again, lifting the blanket so she could slide her legs under it. 

Stiles sat up and lifted his side of her comforter, sliding underneath himself before settling the heating pad on his lower back again. He wasn’t in pain anymore, but the heat brought him a strange sense of comfort. “Like cousins or?” 

“Damn, digging deep already,” Finley let out a quiet laugh that Stiles barely heard while she grabbed an extra pillow to lean against. “Well, you know how pack dynamics work somewhat, I’m sure,” she looked over to Stiles and he just nodded. 

“Alphas and Betas and all that,” he added, hoping to ease Finley’s nerves slightly. “Scott’s an Alpha, Liam’s his Beta.”

“Scott’s a True Alpha,” Finley quickly corrected him. “Pretty rare if you want the facts about it,” she pulled at the loose strings of her comforter that covered her lap. Stiles could tell she wanted to tell him something but couldn’t find the words to say whatever it was, but he wouldn’t push her into territory she would be uncomfortable in. “Most packs don’t work that way, a true Alpha turning a Beta and so on, most are pretty structured. Throw in a True Alpha and forget it,” she snapped her fingers, “pack order and unity gone.”

Stiles sat up and decided to lean against the wall next to Finley, their legs close enough to touch if either decided to move even a fraction of an inch. Stiles felt oddly drawn to Finley, the night before had been the best he slept since moving into American. With Finley so close to him again he felt strangely safe, comfortable, and relaxed. “So, most packs work like the Hale’s did?” He asked, watching Finley’s reactions. He noticed her stiffen slightly before nodding.

“My Pack is a lot older than the Hale Pack, but similar enough,” she replied. “My grandma, my dad’s mom, is the Alpha right now, her dad before her was the Alpha but he didn’t have any sons, so his daughter took over when he was ready to transfer his power.” She shifted closer to Stiles and felt her leg bump into his, she waited for him to move away, but he didn’t. She let the warmth from his body calm her wolf slightly and let out a long sigh. “So, by tradition my grandma’s oldest son would take the pack after she passed,” Finley trailed off.

Stiles turned his head so he could see her better, “but?” he asked curiously, knowing there would be a but based on Finley’s body language and tone. 

“But that position isn’t up for grabs really anymore,” she quickly pulled her legs up to her chest, wrapping her arms around her legs and resting her chin on her knees. “When a pack that already has an Alpha also has a True Alpha in it, that True Alpha will take the Alpha’s position when they pass or decide to pass on their powers,” Stiles watched her close her eyes and take a deep breath in, a few tears gathering at the corner of her eyes. 

Without really thinking, Stiles wrapped his arm around Finley’s shoulders, pulling her into his side. Her head fell on to his shoulder and he hear her stifle a laugh, “we don’t have to keep talking about this y’know?” 

“No, it’s fine. I’m fine,” she reached up to grab his hand that hunger over her shoulder. Stiles watched as she started to absentmindedly play with his fingers before she started speaking again, “so when I presented as a True Alpha before I turned seventeen,” she trailed off for a moment.  “It kind of caused some complications in the family, but everyone got over it but my grandma.” 

Stiles just nodded along, still watching Finley play with his fingers while she thought, the silence between the two a comfortable one. “Really?” he asked after the silence had been stretched out longer, “she knows who’s next in line, she can help you learn,” he added.

Finley let out a mix between a snort and a laugh and turned so she could see him better. “Wow, someone else here thinks logically,” she rested her head on his shoulder, resuming playing with his fingers. “I’ve tried to explain that to her y’know? She didn’t get it though.” 

“It’s the most logical explanation!” Stiles stated matter-of-factly, “how could she not understand that?” He shook his head. “I thought that Alpha’s were supposed to be smart, but Scott is obviously another exception to that rule.”

Finley just laughed quietly as Stiles talked, “I really need to keep you around now,” she mumbled.

“Oh, I wasn’t planning on going anywhere,” Stiles placed a kiss to the top of Finley’s head, the action feeling natural. “It may not have been what I expected, but I’ve adjusted before and I can adjust again,” he rested his chin on the top of Finley’s head, a comfortable slice falling around them again.

Finley felt herself let out a happy rumble, deep from within her chest, something that hadn’t happened in over a year. She knew Stiles would be staying now and it had settled her wolf, something no one had been able to do since the day she presented as a True Alpha. They would most definitely need to have the ‘mates talk’ sooner rather than later, but for now Finley finally felt content and happy. She deserved to bask in the feeling for a little while, she really deserved it.Tagging those who have expressed interest: @stixnstripesworld​ @kellysashcroft​

[vmheadquarters]

We’re still playing our game of written hot potato! Dozens of your favorite authors are taking turns to tell a Veronica Mars mystery story. Each writer crafts their chapter and then “tosses” the story to the next person to continue the tale. No one knows what will happen, so expect the unexpected!

Follow the “vmhq presents” and “murder we wrote” tags for all the installments, or read the story as it develops on AO3. --Chapter Twenty-Four of MURDER, WE WROTE is written by @livinginsunnyhell​​. And stayed tuned next week for Ch.25 from @kmd0107​ - tag, you’re it!

_____________________________________________________________

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR by @livinginsunnyhell​

Carrie Bishop was pissed off that she was in this situation. Not only had she been about to make it big in her singing career (her manager had just booked her the music spot on SNL), but she’d started seeing a hot new male model who found her both charming and talented. He’d invited her to spend the weekend with him down in Palm Springs at a little villa he’d splurged on, but instead she was here, being hunted by some psycho killer.

Thanks Susan, again.

She turned to look around the room and spied Dick who was mixing another round of Godiva chocolate martinis. God, she was sick of those things. All they were doing was adding to her anxiety about the situation.

And giving her bad gas. She kept having to go to the bathroom to relieve herself. Right on cue, her stomach cramped in pain and she scowled as Dick asked the room who else wanted some chocolate martinis.

“Susan, I have to go to the bathroom,” Carrie announced pointedly raising her eyebrows at her friend who was chatting with Kimmy and Cole.

Susan frowned, “Carrie, can’t you take Dick or someone? What use would I be fighting off some killer?”

Carrie sighed and rolled her eyes, “Remember how in high school I told everyone I slept with that creepy weirdo teacher to cover for you? Remember that! Well now, I’m asking you to come with me to the freakin toilet! Is that so hard?”

When Susan just stared at her, Carrie huffed and stood up.

“God, Susan, can you be more self-involved?”

With that, she left the three 09ers and walked toward Dick who was shaking the martini mixer vigorously and shaking his hips. She doubted he even realized they were being hunted and taken out one by one.

“Dick, come with me to the bathroom,” she demanded.

“Seriously? I’m busy here, Carrie. Ask someone else, like Casey or Luke,” Dick said pouring the martinis out and handing her one.

She waved it away and looked around the room to find someone to escort her to the bathroom. Watching her old classmates lazing around, flirting with each other, she decided what the hell and grabbed a fire poker as a weapon.

Anything was better than listening to Cole drone on about life at some small school in Rhode Island or Luke try to convince people he didn’t have same sex tendencies or Gia’s obsession with her shoes.

Exiting the room, she advanced into the mansion looking around for the bathroom. Every time she left that room, it seemed further and further away.

She used her phone as a flashlight to light the way and nearly screamed when she ran into Veronica and Logan coming from the kitchen.

“What are you guys doing?” she snapped.

“Snacking, thinking, trying to figure out the mystery of who is trying to kill us,” Veronica said eyeing the poker in her hand.

“Where are you going?” Logan asked, tightening his hold on Veronica who was leaning into him to keep her weight off her ankle.

“Bathroom, Susan wouldn’t come with me,” Carrie said rolling her eyes.

Veronica and Logan traded looks and looked at Carrie with concern.

“We’ll come with you,” They said in unison.

Carrie rolled her eyes and muttered a ‘whatever’ before moving forward and going toward the bathroom. She glanced behind her to see Veronica and Logan waiting right where she’d run into them. Giving them an uncharacteristically grateful look, she stepped into the bathroom.

It was dark and she wasn’t sure where the lights were. No matter how many times she’d been in here since this whole thing started, she couldn’t remember if the switch was on the right or left hand side.

Stumbling further into the bathroom, her hand felt something mushy. Suddenly, something was falling on her and a warm liquid dripped down her front. “What the--” she began, her hand finally finding the switch.

Light filled the bathroom and her eyes landed on the dead body of a woman who she’d never seen before. Her neck had been sliced and blood had flowed down the front of her body, covering her clothes in dark liquid. She screamed alerting Logan and Veronica, who raced over and peered over her shoulder.

“Who is that?” Veronica asked as Carrie hurried forward to the sink and began to wash the blood that had gotten onto her clothes.

She screamed again when it didn’t come immediately off. “That’s all you have to say? She could’ve attacked me!” Carrie howled in anger.

By now, the rest of the partygoers had made their way toward the screams and were peering into the bathroom.

“Bummer, Carrie,” Dick said, drinking his martini and eyeing the woman on the floor. “Coulda just waited for Casey or I to go with you.”

“Does anyone recognize her?” Veronica asked, staring down at the bloody woman.

She frowned as she noticed the weird lopsidedness of her hair, her eyes were wide open in shock, and while her makeup may have been impeccably done before, now it was smudged from what Veronica could only assume were tears.

“Why’s she wearing a wig?” Logan asked and reached forward to remove the blonde wig.

Veronica moved to stop him so his hand prints wouldn’t be on anything and then grabbed a towel and removed it herself. “Don’t want your fingerprints on it,” Veronica muttered, removing the wig.

“What about my fingerprints?” Carrie whined as she finally got the blood off.

Veronica glanced at her, but chose not to respond. Instead, she stared at the ratty blonde wig and then back down at the dead woman. “Anyone recognize her now?”

“No, but winged eyeliner is so passe,” Kimmy said. Rolling her eyes, she stepped out of the bathroom. Carrie followed after her, not wanting to look at the body that had basically molested her.

That left only four people in the restroom, not including the body.

“Wallace? Mac?” Veronica asked as her two trusted friends advanced forward to look at the woman.

“That’s Della Pugh!” Wallace said upon closer inspection.

“Who?” Veronica asked, confused.

“You know, she was that one girl who was in the talent show when we were Juniors, I think. Everyone laughed at her when she tried to do a cover of some song...it was really bad,” Wallace said, frowning as he remembered how mean the 09ers had been. He shot Dick and Gia an accusatory glare as they giggled together, not in the least concerned about the dead body of an ex-classmate.

“I don’t remember this at all. What talent show? And what was she doing here?” Veronica asked, bewildered.

“And why is she dead?” Logan added.

They shared another look and then glanced at the rest of the 09ers who seemed to have lost interest since it wasn’t one of their own. Veronica watched as the last stragglers headed back toward the large room they had turned into their main headquarters.

“Should we check to see if she has anything in her pockets?” Mac added, looking at Veronica nervously.

“Maybe she was a guest?” Wallace said, bending down.

Veronica bent down as best as she could with her ankle and used the towel to touch the body, she couldn’t find any pockets or anything out of order, except for the blonde wig. However as Veronica continued to jostle Della’s blood soaked clothes, there was a soft clink of glass on the tile floor.

“Maybe she’s the one who has been watching us,” Logan suggested right as Veronica exclaimed out in triumph.

“What is it, bobcat?”

“I’m not sure, it’s a small vial of...something. I don’t think we’ll find out what unless we get it into a lab. Wait, there’s a label, it’s faded but I think that says…’arsenic?’” Veronica muttered squinting at it and then looked at the other three of them in alarm.

“She had arsenic in her pocket?” Logan asked, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her closer.

Staring down at the body, all four of them felt panic begin to rise and a question burned in their brains: Why had the woman had arsenic on her?

“So she wasn’t a guest...but the killer? But then who killed her? And why?” Logan asked.

“Maybe someone didn’t like that ratty ass wig,” Wallace muttered.

Veronica nodded. “Do you think she was watching us?”

The four of them shared a look, unease clouding their faces.

“Veronica and I were thinking that maybe--”

“Veronica! Come quick!” Kimmy shouted, darting back into the bathroom. She grabbed Veronica’s arm and yanked her forward causing her to stumble. Logan yelled and grabbed Veronica’s waist to stop her from falling and then glared at Kimmy.

“What’s wrong?” Logan asked, batting Kimmy’s hands away from Veronica’s arm.

“Cole! Cole! He’s gone!” Kimmy shrieked, tugging on her arm again to come back into the main room.

Veronica groaned and the five of them hobbled back into the room to find everyone looking agitated.

“We came back in here and Cole was gone! No one has seen him since we heard Carrie’s scream!” Kimmy yelled in a panic.

Veronica frowned as she looked around the room to see who else was missing. “Duncan’s gone too,” she said, turning to Logan who looked down at her.

“Do you think--”

“I don’t know,” Veronica whispered.

“We should go look for them!” Kimmy exclaimed, looking around the room.

“Nope, I’m staying here. Finding one dead body was enough for me,” Carrie said, rolling her eyes. She glared down at the offered chocolate martini from Dick and moved across the room to settle next to Susan.

Dick began to hand out martinis, until he came to Veronica and Logan. “Dude, you want one? I know your girl is working, but you can partake,” Dick waved the martini glass.

“I’m not sure if we should be drinking anything at all, we found arsenic in Della’s pocket,” Veronica said, glaring at Dick.

She didn’t really think that there was any arsenic in anything, whoever killed Della had obviously stopped her before she did anything since the liquid was still in the bottle. But she was tired of Dick’s comments and his drinking, so scaring him a bit was probably best for all of them.

His face blanched and he stared at her in shock. “You really think this is poisoned?”

Veronica shrugged, returning her focus to see if anyone else was missing from the room.

“We need to find Cole!” Kimmy kept shrieking again and again.

“And Duncan,” Logan added, as everyone looked at each other nervously.

“We shouldn’t split up, though, right?” Casey asked.

“Probably not, but we can’t just leave them out there,” Wallace said looking at Veronica.

Veronica nodded and leaned against Logan. “We could split into two groups. The injured stay here and a group of four go and look?”

“I’ll go,” Kimmy said.

“I guess, I will,” Luke said. “Better than sitting around here and waiting to die.”

“Casey, Alexis, come with me,” Kimmy whined.

Casey rolled his eyes, but got up anyway and Alexis followed. The four of them looked around for a weapon, Kimmy took Carrie’s fire poker and then they left.

Veronica watched them go and then began to search the room for clues. With the help of Logan, who was supporting her weight to keep it off her bad leg, she moved around the room tentatively.

“What’s that?” Logan asked, bending down as he saw a slip of paper. It was half hidden under one of the couches, the very one Duncan had been sitting on earlier.

“What does it say?” Veronica asked.

Logan frowned. “It’s one of those character descriptions. It says… ‘Campbell Scott ex-boyfriend of Enid Curtis. Broke up when she found out he’d drugged and taken advantage of her at a party. Best friends with Mason, but stopped being friends when Mason stole Enid away from Campbell. Campbell is attending the weekend to convince Enid they should get back together and take out Mason. He plans on doing this by--”

“By what?” Veronica asked wide eyed.

“Paper’s ripped.” Logan said, handing it to her.

Veronica scanned the piece of paper again, unsure what to make of it. She looked up at Logan who was staring out the window. She frowned thinking that he should be more concerned that Duncan’s sole reason for being here was to get her back...but then she reminded herself it was initially just a game, right?

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“I think I see someone outside,” he said causing the remaining people in the room to come over to them.

Veronica squinted through the darkness searching for some figure in the storm that had picked up again and sure enough, she saw a large figure moving in the distance.

“Do you think it’s Duncan or Cole?” Wallace asked quietly.

“Or someone else entirely?” Logan added.

Looking up at him, Veronica could see he thought something worse was headed their way.

[cryoculus]

More love for Semi please? Anything will do, your writing is exquisite in any form anyway :D

» Word Count: 1,857 wordsCross-posted on AO3

SORRY THIS IS SO LATE :(( I actually wrote three chapters’ worth of content for him already and you can read the whole thing on the ao3 link.(NOTE: This is based on the current events of the final arc of the Haikyuu manga. I tagged it as a spoiler but I won’t really go into the specifics of what’s going on. Semi is our main focus here ^__^)

—

“Please?”

“No,” was your flat reply.

Semi heaved a long sigh, mouth twitching into an irritated grimace. You returned his reaction with a sassy look of your own—one, finely penciled brow quirked as bright, red lips rivalled the adamance that Semi brought about. While you were in no position to tell him to just go back to his cubicle and get today’s work done (you, sadly, held the same position in office), you at least had the right to turn him down. Your department had a monthly financial report coming up. Why on Earth did he want your help writing a song?

“Come on,” he groaned. “You know I’d eat my fist first before asking for your help, but our manager really digs your old pieces from college.”

Your eye twitched.

“Way to beg for someone’s aid in a time of dire need,” you bit back sarcastically. “Go do it then.”

“What?”

“Eat your whole fist.” You gave him a pointed look, even making a show of paying attention by putting your pen down.

Your co-worker let out a frustrated groan, fingers carding through his messy, ashen hair. The gesture made the tattoos on his chest visible for a second, before disappearing again behind his barely done button-up. It was a mystery, how a man like him made it as a public servant—with his flamboyant piercings and tip-dyed hair—but you supposed you should learn to look past physical appearances. The agency allowed it, so why should you make a fuss?

Ah, right. Semi Eita was the most hot-headed man in your department, and he had a knack for picking fights with you.

“If you get the balance sheet done by five o'clock, I might reconsider,” you told him, not really meaning the words, as you directed your attention back at the paperwork on your desk. Balance sheets are the toughest to fill out, since the data needed had to be collated from different sectors of the city. You highly doubted that Semi, with his thinner-than-a-strand-of-hair patience, could finish it in one sitting.

“Deal.”

Your gaze hardened as you looked back up at him. “Come again?”

“Are you deaf?” he asked, folding lean arms across his chest. “I said it’s a deal.”

You couldn’t help the snort that made its way past your lips. Whatever his reasons may be, it was painfully obvious that he was desperate. But still. You knew that he wouldn’t be able to carry out the deed in your given deadline, but instead of talking him out of his own agreement, you merely shook your head in acceptance.

Semi eventually stalked off to his cubicle; the one just in front of yours. There was a divider that separated each employee’s workspace from the others, and it at least granted some semblance of privacy from outside gazes. You’ve been to Semi’s cubicle a couple of times—more to coordinate paperwork than engage in conversation, really—and he decorated his personal space exactly how a part-time rock band vocalist would. Though he didn’t exactly put up posters and painted the walls black, he added his own flair to his desk with guitar figurines, neon stickers on his desktop, and a photo of his bandmates enclosed in a sparkly picture frame.

The only reason you bothered looking so closely was the fact that you also went to the same university together (under the same degree, too!) You’ve always been keen around him, with his loud way of living, as opposed to you, who’s always chosen to live simply and without pretentiousness. Sure, the disparity between your lifestyles had caused you to be at each other’s throats since freshman year, but it was still a surprise that your synergy was top notch. You would, as Semi put it so delicately, eat your fist first before admitting to the fact, but it’s a given that you preferred to work with him instead of other, unfamiliar people.

You sighed, brandishing a bored look at the bleak document in front of you. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to help him out…

But when you recalled every time he’s talked over you during board meetings, sneered at you when he got a higher score during exams, and his distateful behavior in general, you steeled your resolve.

Either he’s going to get that balance sheet over with or he’ll keel over. If he wanted your help, he’s going to have to work for it.

—

You were in the middle of fixing your belongings when the sound of a stack of papers hitting your desk rang in your ears.

“There,” Semi said breathlessly, making you look up at him in surprise. He even tossed a flash drive on top of the papers he deposited, where you saw the city hall’s heading printed in full color. You reluctantly checked your phone for the time. 16:57, it said, in a mockingly bold typeface before shoving it in your pocket.

The damn guy really did get it done before five.

“The electronic document is saved in there, in case you lose the print.” He was panting at this point, and you had a vague idea as to why he looked like he just ran a marathon. The one printer in your department (this year’s budget was cut) broke down a few days ago, and the nearest functional one was at the Logistics office three floors down.

Still refusing to believe it, you peered at the documents he just brought in. You scanned each of the entries printed on each page. That’s when you realized that Sendai City’s expenses have skyrocketed since the new year because the list of expenses occupied a whole page alone. A worried sigh made its way past your lips, but at least the liabilities were cut down to a minimum. You heard that the governor of Miyagi was going to pledge a few hundred thousand yen for the city’s founding anniversary, too.

You paused. Blinking, you rearranged the papers neatly back into its pile—biting back the urge to clutch your wounded pride. Semi was looking at you expectantly, like he wanted you to praise his flawless bookkeeping.

In actuality, his determination was beginning to freak you out.

“Why do you want me to help you so badly?” you asked, voice almost trembling. “Seriously, dude. I thought we hated each other. Quit acting out of character.”

“I told you, our manager really liked the songs you composed back in senior year,” he drawled, tired of having to repeat himself.

Your face twisted in confusion. “Who even is this manager of yours?”

There was a half-second delay in his response, but before you could paint a reason for his hesitation, he immediately replied with, “Saito. Saito Makoto.”

You stiffened, gaze going rigid at the mention of that name. “Oh.”

“Yeah. If I manage to give him a piece by the end of the month, he’ll help us sign a contract with a big-shot record label,” Semi explained, oblivious to your discomfort.

“But haven’t you been writing songs since high school?” you wondered aloud. “That’s what you said during our Pol-Gov class ice breaker.”

He frowned. “You still remember that?”

Okay. You kept forgetting that your sharp memory wasn’t always a praiseworthy thing. You gulped, feeling the heat creep up your face. “Um, anyway, the point still stands. You’ve been writing songs for God-knows-how-long, and while I’m not one to dish out compliments especially to you, I’m pretty sure they’re okay if you managed to gather a decent fanbase.”

He rolled his eyes, leaning against the divider of your cubicle. “We’re a rock band. I write rock songs, but Saito wants me to write a goddamn love song.”

Typical Saito. Though he looked like a rugged high school delinquent, he was awfully sentimental when it came to music. He was the one who inspired you to write the songs Semi was pestering you about all day after all…

“Fine,” you relented. “I never go back on my word and since you did a…good job with this, I’ll help you out.”

His light brown eyes lit up for a moment, but Semi managed to mask his relief in a split second—containing his excitement in a single nod. “Are you free this Saturday? You can come by my place and we could start getting to work.”

Well, that was forward of him. You expected to work on the song in a coffee shop or something, but he went on ahead and invited you to his own humble abode anyway. You parsed through your weekend plans in your mind, and once you confirmed that you were free, you scribbled down your phone number on a sticky note. Almost five years of acquaintance and you’d never bothered giving it to him. Huh.

“Just text me the time and place,” you told him, pocketing the flash drive as you slipped the balance sheet in one of the empty folders in your organizer. “You better not pull anything funny and lead me to a secluded alley or something.”

Semi scoffed, folding the piece of paper and sticking it inside his trousers. “As if.”

You then slung your bag across your shoulders, grinning insincerely. “Glad we’re on the same page, then.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

With that, Semi exited your cubicle, leaving you no room to wonder why he didn’t even spare a quick ‘thank you’.

Just as you were smoothing out the creases on your pencil skirt, your phone began buzzing in the pocket of your blazer. Brows raised, you fished it out and unlocked it.

From: Makohey, wanna grab some dinner? its on me :3

Speak of the devil. You swallowed the lump in your throat, fingers shakily managing to type a coherent reply.

To: MakoYeah sure. Where to tho

From: Makocan we get some italian? ik u love the udon place across the street but akane’s having dinner w her friends there

From: Makocant have her seeing us together now do we

The way he put that so casually made your chest constrict with a too-familiar sensation. You heaved a deep breath, pursing your lips into a thin line as you sent a quick “Ok” text to end your conversation. Saito replied with those iffy heart-eyed emojis that he only ever used when he wanted something from you, and you had to compose yourself so you wouldn’t burst into tears right there.

“Oi.”

You almost jumped at the sound of Semi’s voice as he peered inside your cubicle once more. He clutched his suitcase in one hand, eyeing you curiously.

“What do you want?”

“You’re headed uptown, too, right?” he asked, and you nodded reluctantly. “Thought you’d want a lift.”

“Semi, just because I’m helping you achieve your dreams, doesn’t mean you have to be nice to me.” You laughed softly, tension easing from his uncalled for kindness.

He, however, looked unconvinced. “Do you want a ride or not?”

You raised your hands in defeat, managing a genuine smile. “Alright, fine. It’ll be a hellish commute anyway.”

You liked to think that that’s how you started becoming friends with your odd, hot-headed co-worker.

[assassins-and-hidden-blades]

The Predator and the Prey -- Part 2

A/N: (Early) Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays, everyone! Got a bit sucked into this to get back into the mood to write requests, and after this I feel a lot more inspired and out of the writing slump I’ve been suffering from for the past who-knows-how-many months. Hope you guys enjoy this as an early Christmas present, haha.

Feedback is always greatly appreciated; I’d love to know what you think!

Taglist: @marshmallow--3​ (shoot an ask if you wanna be tagged!)

Part 1 HERE (With general synopsis)

Previously:

“There’s been another robbery.” You flashed the envelope his way. “You might have one too.”

“Let’s go and get it.”

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

You arrived with Jacob back at his rented flat, and he parked next to Evie’s dark blue beetle. Jacob scrunched his nose up in disgust. “Ugh, Evie’s taste in cars is something ’ll never understand.”

“At least it’s not pink, and it hasn’t got eyelashes on it.”

“Don’t even joke about that.”

Jacob was the first one through the door. “Evie! We’re here!” he called up the stairs. He dropped his keys in the dish on the side and made his way to his bedroom. It was simple, but was still cosy and had more than enough room. He had a double bed -- not made-- and one of his walls was a soft shade of tangerine patterned with white birds in flight; they had a major resemblance to the one tattooed on his chest. He went to open his drawer, shielding its contents from you. 

“Don’t worry; I won’t ask about what you’re hiding from me.” 

All you got in response was an amused scoff.

As Jacob found the document, Evie came up behind you, drying her hair with a towel. “You both going into work, then?” she asked.

“I think we’re going to have to; we didn’t last night when the first one was reported. They’ll need more people to do the legwork.” 

“Even though you were both stuck to your laptop screens filing reports the night before?”

“Especially because we were both stuck to our laptop screens the night before.” 

“If you need anything, either of you, just give me a call.” She moved out of the room.

“Thanks, Evie.”

The door closed softly a few moments after. 

You sat down on the bed that was littered with one or two shirts, sliding your finger under the lip of the envelope in your hands. Inside was a typewritten letter that was signed by Henry Green -- your Detective Chief Inspector and Evie’s partner. You opened it and began to read:

        Inspector Y/N Y/L/N,

            At 0234 hours on Sunday morning, we received reports of theft that                  had taken place. At first, it was written off as an unrelated event, but is              now being filed as yet another heist linked with previous frauds that                    had stolen similar artefacts. 

            This is an urgent message. You and Inspector Jacob Frye are required              to come to Scotland Yard ASAP, in order to converse our course of                   action. 

           As you know, there have already been seven artefacts that have                       already been looted from various locations; this makes it the eighth. We             are only aware of these international crimes because of one reason.

           When you arrive, ask for an urgent meeting with me. We’ll discuss it                   then.

    Signed,

     HenryGreen

    Detective Chief Inspector (DIC), Henry Green

           P.S -- You both are the best I have. I need you to head this operation                with me. I don’t trust anyone else.

You checked the entirety of the letter to double check that you had read it thoroughly. Looking back at Jacob, you saw him writing notes in a notepad. “Do we need to change?” 

He clicked his pen and stood up. “I wouldn’t bother. It’s a Sunday, after all.”

You smirked, agreeing with him. “We should probably go.” Picking up your essentials, you followed him down the stairs.

“Don’t wait up for us, Evie. We’ll probably be a while!”

“Noted!”

You both went back to Jacob’s car and set a new course for New Scotland Yard.

------

You entered your workplace with your rucksack over your shoulder, while Jacob parked his car outside. The receptionist looked up at the sound of the doors opening and greeted you with a plastered smile.

“Hi, Caroline. Inspector Frye and I have an urgent meeting with--”

“Chief Inspector Green? Of course, I’ll let him know. Take a seat over there for a minute, will you?”

You nodded with a smile, and somewhat reluctantly sat on the chairs beside the desk. Jacob came in moments after, pocketing his keys in his back pocket. He seemed somewhat surprised to see you waiting. 

“You waiting for me?” He winked coyly, a corner of his lips upturning. 

“Caroline’s on the phone to let Henry--”

“You two need to go to the meeting room on the third floor urgently.” Caroline had put the phone down without a care in the world, ready for her weekend shift to be over. 

“Thanks, Caroline. Hope you can get home soon.” You and Jacob headed to the elevator. 

“Didn’t mention that we’re not here for fun?” He decided to ask as the doors shut and elevator music began to hum in the background. 

“I said it was urgent! She just seemed to want to be in charge.” You shrugged. 

Jacob scoffed in amusement. “Uh-huh.”

The elevator came to a stop on the floor you needed quickly enough. The meeting room was at the end of the open plan floor full of scattered wooden desks, of which about a third were littered with papers and files of all kinds. Walking through the paperwork minefield, almost everyone greeted you both, ranging from surprised waves to casual nods; all of which you responded to identically. 

Jacob reached the meeting room first, knocking twice and waiting for an affirmation before opening the door, which was labelled ‘Do Not Disturb’. Henry was sat there in a semi-casual outfit consisting of smart jeans and a  white shirt, no doubt displeased at having to be brought in on a Sunday. He sat at the end of a long glass table, surrounded by loose paperwork and random documents that stretched almost out of his reach. A laptop was open and charging beside him. He looked up when the door closed and put his pen down. “Glad you could make it,” he began, reclining into the leather behind him.

“We wouldn’t miss this for the world,” Jacob remarked sarcastically, slumping casually into the nearest chair. 

“Shut the blinds.”

You looked out onto the rest of the floor and quickly shielded the room from view, much to the curiosity of people loitering around. After, you followed Jacob’s actions, with an extra kilogram of dignity.  “What’s up, Henry?” You pulled out an average-sized notepad and a small pencil case, whereas Jacob pulled out a pocket notebook and a clicking pen from his pockets, resting his forearms on the table.  

“This morning, at about half past two, something was stolen from the British Museum.” Henry took the charger out of his laptop and turned it around, showing the artefact. He stood up briefly to turn the light down. It was a folded gold fabric that had white patterns inscribed upon it. “This was labelled in the exhibit as the ‘Shroud of Eden’. That obviously has many connotations that make it quite precious, especially to the public. This piece is not at all common-- in fact, it’s the only one of its kind-- so it can have an extremely high street value.” 

Your eyes drifted to movement in front of you. Jacob had lifted his legs up to rest his feet on the desk. His notebook was practically empty compared to yours, bar a few scribbled words. “How much is it worth?”

“Too much; possibly up to seventeen million-- most likely more.” Jacob wrote the figure down. “Continue.”

“The bottom line is that we need to retrieve this artefact. This was scheduled to be properly studied by the end of the week. Now that can’t happen and we have no idea what this thing does.”

“Who found it?” Jacob piped up again.

“A Lucy Thorne-- British curator, quite young, though.” Henry held up a picture of her. “It raised a few initial suspicions, but the head curator let it pass. Might be a good time to follow it up.” 

Jacob wrote down another few words. 

“How does any of this link internationally?” You asked your first question of the meeting, already two thirds of the way down the page. 

“This is why.” Henry pressed on with the slideshow, showing images of the other artefacts that were stolen across the world. They all held a similar resemblance of colour and patterns. “These all originate from the same place. Whoever stole these items know something we don’t. This is why it’s urgent. We have no idea what these things are capable of, what they do, and what that means for everyone else on this godforsaken Earth. 

“This isn’t just a matter of national security; it’s a matter of international safety.” Henry finished with a deep exhale through his nostrils, slowly moving to turn the lights on again. 

“Our primary objective is to retrieve all eight artefacts. Our secondary objective is to put the people found guilty behind bars. If that’s too dangerous for you both, abort. Get the artefacts back to MI5 first, but if not, bring them back here. That is of paramount importance.” 

“I have a plan.” Jacob put his feet down and leaned forward, arms back on the table. “We find this Lucy Thorne, and we interview her; take a statement, ask her a few questions-- find out what this thing does. We ask if she’s headed any investigations prior to working at the British Museum. We ask for the names of her superiors in her previous places of employment, maybe even search the place to find what else she might be hiding.” He gestured his point discreetly.

“We can’t do that without a warrant,” you remarked.

“But we know someone who can give us one…” Jacob looked to Henry. 

“I trust you both; I’ll give you whatever you need, but there’s no time to waste. We have to do something now.” 

You nodded. “I agree with Jacob.”

The corner of Jacob’s lips upturned. “Great. Let’s do--”

Before you both could stand up, there was a knock at the door. It opened almost immediately to unveil a very old rivalry. He stood tall, with his hair tied back with a red ribbon, dressed as if it was a weekday at the office. 

“Good to see people working, even on a Sunday.” He adjusted his cuffs. “Mr Frye, Y/N.”

“Shay.”

[stories-you-wont-hear]

– four seasons. | dive

this mini-series is inspired by something a friend told me her boyfriend once told her that i thought was so damn romantic. he said something like, “I want to see all four seasons together with you.” that inspired this four-part bit with billy (pre-anvil), and if there’s interest, i might do it with other characters but billy is definitely the first one to come to mind when I got this idea. hope you all enjoy!

tag list: shameless-pope  bellastellaluna  the-scarletsandwich

The first time Billy saw you, you were standing at the edge of the pool in Castle’s backyard, your face twisted in annoyance. “Did you have to do that?” you asked him, hands on your hips, the front of your sundress soaked due to the cannonball he had just pulled in an attempt to wow the kids. Sure, a man of his stature didn’t have to do much to impress a bunch of little kids, but the rush from compliments for “Uncle Billy” were worth the effort. “Woah, Uncle Billy do it again!” Lisa yelled from across the pool. Billy couldn’t help but shoot you a grin, cocking his head to the side in a way only he could get away with. “No,” you said firmly, about to continue when Frank Jr. cut in. “But Aun-” 

Your eyebrow rose as you glared at the boy who had swam to the edge of the pool, “Francis David Castle Jr., your mother told me to get you little heathens to come eat and I will not fail her.” Both Lisa and Frank Jr. groaned, but upon the mention of their mother, they both began to head towards where Frank Sr. was grilling up burgers. 

“So you’re Y/N, huh?” Billy said, hoisting himself up to sit at the edge of the pool. “That’s my name,” you replied, not moving to follow the kids but the edge in your voice wasn’t exactly an invitation to talk. “Listen, I’m sorry about that,” he said, gesturing to the front of your dress which was wet because of his whole cannonball show. “Don’t worry about it,” you replied, your shoulders easing a bit, “The kids loved it.” “They do love a good show,” he added, winking at you. You couldn’t help but laugh, Maria had told you all about Frank’s buddy from the Marine Corps. “They love you. You could sit in a chair and they’d be amazed by you,” you replied, recalling stories Maria had told you over the last few months. 

The two of you had worked together briefly, but had kept in touch even after you had moved on to a different workplace. While you were unmarried and childless, the two of you found middle ground in other things. You had met Frank a few times when he had been back home, but most of your time with Maria was when he was away. 

As a result, you had only heard of Frank’s “brother,” Billy Russo but were meeting him for the first time today. And the first impression hadn’t exactly been spectacular. You were sure that Maria was especially pushing for the two of you to meet so that you could get over your last boyfriend. “He’s easy on the eyes,” she had said to you the other day as the two of you went down the aisles of the supermarket together, busy preparing for the upcoming barbecue. You rolled your eyes at her, saying something along the lines of not needing a man, but upon actually seeing Billy, you had to admit that Maria was right.

“Maria’s talked a lot about you,” Billy said, taking a seat next to you just as you bit into your burger. “Good things I hope,” you replied, giving him a small smile. Billy mirrored your movements, biting into his own burger as he carried on the conversation. “Great things actually,” he said, “It was sorta like she was working on a sales pitch.” You laughed, catching Maria’s eye from across the yard. She was among other friends, but you had caught her eye on you the few times you and Billy had been near each other that afternoon. She should consider getting a job as a CCTV camera, you thought to yourself.

“I’m gonna get a drink,” you said, standing up after the two of you made casual conversation while you ate, “Want anything?” “A beer sounds good,” Billy replied, taking your empty plate from you. You made your way towards Frank who was sipping a beer at the grill while Billy took care of the plates, greeting your friend’s husband warmly. 

“Hey Frank,” you called, giving him a small wave. “Hey you,” Frank replied affectionately. While the two of you weren’t especially close, Frank’s appreciation for you being there for his wife and kids went unsaid but was always clear. “Now, what kind of beer do Marines like?” you pondered as you opened the cooler to examine the contents. “If it’s for Billy,” Frank called, gesturing towards a smaller cooler stored near the grill, “Give him some of the good stuff.” 

You raised an eyebrow at Frank, eyeing the label of the bottle of what he was drinking. It certainly wasn’t the cheap stuff you and Maria had picked up the other day. “Remind me how to get on your good side, Frankie?” you joked, “I want an in on the good stuff.” Frank smiled in return, a rare sight, but you were sure the beer had something to do with it, “We don’t even get the bad stuff when we’re out there. I figured it’d be a treat for my brothers before we head out in a few weeks.” “Right,” you replied softly, grabbing a beer from Frank’s cooler and a wine cooler for yourself. Frank, and by default, Billy were scheduled to be deployed in a few weeks despite having just come back only about two month ago. 

You remember that Maria had been overjoyed the first couple days, especially when you had offered to stay with the kids at the house this weekend so that he and Maria could get away for a few days. Over time, you could sense that she felt that Frank’s upcoming deployment was looming over them. You could sense it when the two of you went shopping together, all you wanted to do was to make sure that the two of them had a good time during the time together that they had. “See ya Frank,” you replied, giving him a nod of acknowledgment as you made your way back to Billy.

“Ah,” Billy said as he examined the bottle you had just handed to him, “Old Frankie broke out the good stuff.” You laughed, cracking open your own drink and taking a long, cool sip. “Not a beer kinda girl?” he asked, taking a long sip of his own drink. You shook your head, “I’m down for a cold one, but I’m watching the kids tonight so I want to keep it light.” He nodded, turning his attention to the rest of the yard which was full of other friends of Frank and Maria’s. There were a few other guys Frank knew from his time over there, but it was mostly families that lived nearby or classmates and parents of Lisa and Frank Jr.’s. “Not a mingle kinda guy?” you asked after a few moments of silent people observing. Billy shook his head, and you couldn’t help but notice how dark his eyes were. 

It was summer, so the sunset was slow and orange, like a melting popsicle. The lights Maria had strung up in the backyard, along the fences and near the big pool Frank had bought for the kids to enjoy, were aglow and music was playing softly in the background of everyone’s conversations. In the midst of all this, you and Billy stood off to the side, taking up two chairs in one corner of the Castle’s yard. While Frank made rounds as people began to leave, he had handed Billy another beer, you turning down his offer as the two of you continued your conversation. You found out more about Billy from him, not from Maria this time. He was raised in the foster system up in Albany, and had snuck down to the city that you called home from time to time. You wondered if your paths had ever crossed unknowingly, but then you pushed that question from your mind as you remembered that you were here in this moment together.

The more he talked, the more ingrained you found yourself in his thoughts. All of the military people you knew were Marines through the Castles, and most were married with families. You were a rare friend of Maria’s, without a family of her own much less a spouse overseas, and Billy was a rare first for you. “Y/N?” you heard Maria call you, pulling you from the conversation between you and Billy. You looked up to see the backyard as packed up as it could be after the party today, and Frank and Maria standing at the back door.

“Maria!” you called, standing up suddenly and walking over to your friend, “I should’ve helped clean up, I’m so s-” Maria held her hand up, in that kind of way that made her kids immediately stop talking, so you knew better than to protest. “The Moms helped,” she explained, “Besides, I didn’t want to take you from Billy.” You opened your mouth again but she shook her head, smiling knowingly. “Take care brother,” Billy called from behind you. Frank nodded his head in acknowledgement, and somehow those gestures were enough to communicate for the two of them.

“The kids are inside watching TV,” Maria explained, “So feel free to stay, Billy.” “I’ll tuck ‘em in,” Billy replied nonchalantly, “Tell ‘em a bedtime story.” “Didn’t know you knew how to read,” you blurted jokingly. “Hey!” Billy said with a huff, playfully bumping his shoulder with yours. You didn’t know if Maria could smile any wider than she was now, but even Frank had a little twinkle in his eye. “Drive safe,” you called to the two of them as they waved their goodbyes before heading out towards the driveway. 

“You wanna head inside?” you called as Billy stuck his head through the door. “Nah,” he replied, gently closing just the screen door behind him. “They’re busy being enthralled by whatever Lisa’s into right now.” You laughed, sitting down in a patio door close enough to the door so that you’d hear if the kids called out for you. Billy took the seat next to you, opting to take a water bottle from the cooler instead of another beer.

“So, how does it feel being back?” you asked, your voice cutting through the now almost silent backyard. “Funny you ask,” he replied, “Most people asked me how it felt to be going back soon.” “I’m not sure they’d understand even if you answered,” you noted. “They can’t,” Billy said, his voice taking an edge you hadn’t heard before. “There’s nothing ever that can compare, there’s no way for anyone who hasn’t done it to understand,” he continued. You let out a small sigh, partially because you were unsure of how to reply. “But being back,” Billy said, clearing his throat, “It’s strange.” “Strange how?” you asked curiously. You knew bits about Frank’s experience when he came back, mostly through Maria, but Frank was never one to talk much, and especially not about something like this.

Billy turned to look at you, and under the soft lights of the backyard, you could see him really looking at you. You weren’t sure if he’d answer, the topic was a sensitive one even with Frank who you had known for a bit. “It’s like being underwater,” Billy said softly, “Like you dive into the water and nothing feels quite right. You can see, but not clearly. You can move, but it ain’t the same. And then you surface and it’s clear but there’s that moment where you have to get used to not being in the water anymore.” You nodded, understanding what he was saying despite not being able to relate. “I used to think that being deployed was like being thrown back into the water, but lately…” Billy trailed off. “Being back here is the diving pool now,” you finished, and he smiled, genuinely smiled for you. 

Neither of you spoke then and you swore Billy had leaned in, and you could feel yourself leaning in as well until you heard Lisa’s shrill voice through the door, “Aunt Y/N!” Both you and Billy pulled back, turning to find Lisa’s face peering through the door. “Were you two kissing?” she called, blinking as she eyed the two of you. “No, you pervert!” Billy retorted. “I’m sorry!” Lisa huffed, pulling the door open to stick her head outside, “Mom just said she can’t wait for the two of you to get married so I just thought you might be practicing.” “I’m going to kill your mother,” you replied, shooting Billy and apologetic look. 

“What do you need, kid?” Billy asked. “Well, Frank started this movie and it’s kind of scary… Can you stay with us while we watch?” Lisa asked. “Only if you don’t make fun of me for covering my eyes,” you said with a sigh, turning your gaze to Billy. “I’m gonna head home,” he said, his hand moving to your shoulder as he stood up. “Come soon!” Lisa called over her shoulder as she disappeared back into the house. 

“Are you sure?” you asked, standing up to walk him out. “I’ll give you some time to work up some points with the kids, I feel bad that they love their Uncle Billy more,” he said with a grin. You scoffed, shaking your head in disbelief as you moved to turn off the lights in the backyard.

You walked Billy through the house so that he could say good night to the kids, with promises that they’d be good for you and get a waffle breakfast in return for Sunday morning. He wrapped them both in a big bear hug, picking them up easily while joking around with them and you could see why they liked him so much. With the kids settled with popcorn while lying in wait for you to return, you assured them you’d be quick with seeing Billy out.

You walked him out through the front door, stepping out to the porch away from Maria’s little spy. “I’ll see you on Sunday then,” you said quietly, crossing your arms over as the summer breeze blew a bit of cool air towards you. “Sunday it is,” Billy agreed, his voice matching the softness in yours. “Good night, Billy,” you said, giving him a smile. Instead of returning the goodbye, Billy leaned down, his hand coming to hold your face softly as he kissed you. You leaned into the kiss, stepping towards him as he ran his thumb over your cheek. When he pulled back, you followed, your hand flat on his chest. “What are we doing, Billy?” you murmured, your head clearing enough to remember that he was about to be deployed in a few weeks. He smiled softly and shook his head, pressing a kiss to your cheek as he brought his lips close enough for you to hear his low voice, “Practicing.”

________________________________________________________________

so this part was obvs summer, and the next three will be based around billy and y/n’s continuing relationship in fall, winter, and spring. love your comments, so please leave me lots of love! updates to precedence will come soon!

[bastardnev]

Broken (But Not Beyond Repair)

yknow i spent a whole lot of time referring to this as “the valentine’s fic” but meanwhile valentine’s day is mentioned like Once during this whole story. Nevertheless !

tagging: @sailor-slam-dunk @residentjoth @riveliciousx @lambchopviking @storyranger @nerdbrose (lemme kno if u wanna be added to my tag list !!)

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: World Wrestling Entertainment, Professional Wrestling, All Elite Wrestling Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Mustafa Ali/Pac | Adrian Neville Characters: Mustafa Ali, Pac | Adrian Neville Additional Tags: Valentine's Day, sorta but not really, its more mentioned than anything else tbh, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, i guess, Making Up, au where nev still lives in orlando and also has a big fucking dog, mustafa worries a lot, Implied Sexual Content Series: Part 2 of Jess Has Too Many Fics In Her Notes Summary: By all means, Mustafa shouldn't have even been thinking about Neville anymore. It had been over two years since he left WWE, and they were both at completely different points in their careers. It was pointless to dwell on the past or give any real thought to what could have been — all that mattered anymore was what the future held, and it looked like their respective paths were headed in opposite directions.

And yet, despite all of this, there Mustafa was. Seated in his rental car, in the parking lot of some cheap motel he had planned to spend the night at. Neville's number dialed on his phone.

(link to ao3)

By all means, Mustafa shouldn't have even been thinking about Neville anymore. It had been over two years since he left WWE, and they were both at completely different points in their careers. It was pointless to dwell on the past or give any real thought to what could have been — all that mattered anymore was what the future held, and it looked like their respective paths were headed in opposite directions.

And yet, despite all of this, there Mustafa was. Seated in his rental car, in the parking lot of some cheap motel he had planned to spend the night at. Neville's number dialed on his phone.

Mustafa stared down at the screen, squinting against the bright light. The rain rhythmically tapping against the roof of the car left him in almost a trance-like state as he debated whether or not to hit the "call" button. This wasn't the first time he found himself in this position — he was tempted to get in touch with Neville just about every time he and the rest of the WWE crew passed through Orlando during live event tours. He would usually only get as far as his contacts list, however, and he was never actually able to bring himself to make that move. Once he learned that the latest show would see him in the area again, he assumed that things would play out as they normally did, with him backing out at the last second and pretending like he had zero interest in seeing Neville.

But that didn't happen. This time, the urge to get in contact was so strong , far more than it ever had been. To the point where Mustafa was in the car and fully prepared to drive right over to Neville’s house. He had no idea what exactly it was, but he had arrived in town with an almost overwhelming feeling to just bite the bullet and do it. A sense that he needed to stop putting off something that was killing him not to do. He wasn't even sure where it came from, but it was certainly there — a feeling that he needed to reach out, to call, to talk to Neville again after so long of little to no contact.

To possibly rekindle a relationship that had meant so much to him.

To put it bluntly, Mustafa and Neville's relationship was, at its core, supposed to be just sex. Nothing more than that. "No strings attached", they always insisted. Once a week ( maybe twice, if they were feeling up to it), they would meet up in a hotel room to fool around, to blow off steam after a show. After Raw, after 205 — they weren't picky. Whenever they were both in the same place and could meet up, they spent the night together. It was nothing more than that, at least at first.

But then, it... changed. It had been gradual — Mustafa hadn't even noticed it right away — but the times they shared started to become something else. Before all they had done was meet up, do what they had to do, and then go their separate ways before anyone knew what they were doing. They did their best to make sure that no one even had a suspicion that there was anything going on between the two of them, hence why Mustafa would always go back to his hotel room after they finished. Whoever he was rooming with normally didn't ask too many questions so long as he was back from his "late night walk" ( horrible excuse, but it worked) at a reasonable time.

Then Mustafa started to actually stay the night with Neville. The first time he had simply been too tired and lazy to leave. The second time had followed a very similar format, only Neville didn't put up as much of a fight. Every time it happened thereafter, Neville cared less and less, and before either of them knew it it had become an established part of their routine, their desire not to clue anyone in on their secret be damned.

And then came the invites to each other's houses. It had started as a way to save money whenever tapings were in Chicago or Orlando, but before long they had becomed planned affairs, with one spending anywhere from a day to a whole weekend at the other's home. They acted like this was so they could hook up easier (and more frequently), but the fact was that those nights were... fun . More fun than they thought they would be. It wasn't just sex anymore — they were cooking together, and buying way too many snacks together, and eating those same snacks as they binged the dumbest fucking movies together. (Stupid Movie Fridays, they'd taken to calling them, though they weren't opposed to other days of the week being devoted to corny films.)

They were... getting closer. Close enough that Mustafa wasn't sure if they should be labeled as acquaintances, or as friends, or as... something even more than that.

Whatever the hell they were, it all came to a screeching halt in October of 2017, when Neville left the company and didn’t look back.

Mustafa still texted him after everything happened, but it was clear that things weren't how they used to be. Neville was distracted, so caught up in the drama of requesting his release that he didn't seem to have time to talk with him anymore. It wasn't like Mustafa didn't understand — though he'd never been through the process himself, he could only imagine how stressful it must be, especially given the specifics of Neville's situation. Not to mention that his own career picked up notably only a few short months later, and he hadn't done much better on the consistent communication front. This was far from being a one-sided issue.

What had gotten to Mustafa the most, though, was how abrupt it all was. How one moment the two of them were talking, and laughing, and genuinely enjoying one another's company more than they ever thought they would, only for all of it to suddenly stop. How they used to text each other the most ridiculous and pointless shit, only for their messaging to slowly taper off until it ceased altogether.

As of that moment, in February of 2020, contact between them was nonexistent. Like they were total strangers.

Mustafa wanted so badly to change that.

His thumb was hovering precariously over the "call" button. It was such a simple thing to do, but he was still having so much trouble with it. If he did that, then Neville would pick up, and then two of them would be talking again for the first time in years. He would get what he wanted. It was so easy, so doable .

Even so, he was hesitant. There was no guarantee that Neville would pick up to begin with. It was possible that he would see who was calling him and immediately reject the call, or let it ring and ring until Mustafa eventually gave up and left him alone. Worse yet, he might have deleted Mustafa's number, and he would hit him with a dreaded "Who is this?" the moment he answered. Each of those situations sent a chill down his spine, and it made him want to turn off his phone and forget about this plan like he always did.

But Mustafa couldn't let those worst-case scenarios get to him. Not anymore. He needed to do it, and he needed to do it right then and there. Otherwise, it would likely never happen.

With that, he made the call.

Bringing the phone up to his ear, Mustafa chewed on his lower lip. He listened to the rings, first one, then two. His heart was pounding in his chest by the time the fifth ring rolled around. A little voice was yelling at him from the back of his mind, telling him that he'd made a huge mistake and should just hang up the phone already. It was clear that Neville didn't want to talk to him — if he did, he would've picked up. It was only a matter of time before he got sent to voicemail and was forced to either hang up or leave some embarrassing message for Neville to delete—

"Ali?"

"Oh��" Mustafa's whole body tensed at the sound of Neville's voice coming from the receiver. He'd actually picked up — shit, shit, shit . He scrambled for something to say, anything . "...Hiya."

Real smooth, dumbass . "Hello..." Neville responded tentatively. God , it had been way too long since Mustafa last heard him. He probably would have enjoyed the moment more if he didn't just make a complete fool out of himself.

"What, ah...” Just say something! “What're you up to?"

"I'm... at home." Neville still sounded wary. Mustafa couldn’t exactly blame him.

"You had a match this week, right?" Mustafa remembered seeing tweets about it on his timeline. Reading that Neville had won had put him in quite the good mood for the rest of the night.

"I did."

"Good for you." Mustafa nodded. “Makin’ moves.”

Then, the line fell silent, and Mustafa had no choice but to come to terms with the fact that he did not plan this well — or at all, really. All those nights of internal arguments and wondering about how a potential phone call between him and Neville would play out ultimately failed him. He had no idea what to say next, or how to get to the point without making himself look like an even bigger idiot.

Fortunately for him, Neville was the one who eventually broke the silence. "Ali, what's going on?”

“What do you mean?”

“What do I— Are you kidding? You just called me out of absolutely nowhere. Why?"

“...Oh, that.” What else would he be talking about?!

“Yeah, that .” The tone left Neville’s voice and, quieter, he added, “Is everything alright?"

Mustafa swallowed. There, that was his opening. "Everything's fine, it's just..." He paused. "I... WWE's in Orlando this weekend.”

Neville was silent for a beat. "...Is that so?"

"Mhm. I just got to my motel a little while ago. Haven't even gotten out of the car yet, though, because of this rain." Taking a deep breath through his nose, he said, "I... was thinking about you. Wanted to know how things were."

“I see...” The line went quiet again, the only sound being that of Neville’s breathing and the rain, which seemed to have only gotten worse in the time they were talking. Mustafa was dreading eventually having to get out of the car.

“I-I know it’s sudden,” Mustafa explained, an attempt to save himself from this awkward situation. “And that you probably didn’t expect to hear from me.”

“I definitely didn’t.”

“Yeah... But I just wanted to check up on you. Make sure things were good.”

“They’re... They’re fine, thank you.” After a beat, “And you?”

“Same here.” Mustafa looked out the raindrop-speckled window. “I’m tired as hell, but... Still, it’s all good.”

This conversation needed to end. It was going nowhere, and Mustafa knew this. Hearing from Neville again was great, but all he was doing was embarrassing himself. Clearing his throat, he said, “Well... I guess I should be going. Still gotta get my room.”

“You haven’t even got one yet?” Neville asked. “What do you plan on doing if there isn’t one available?”

“I’ve slept in enough cars during my career to be okay with it. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.”

“I don’t remember ever saying I was worried.”

Mustafa snorted. “You haven’t changed a bit, you know that?”

“At least I’m consistent.”

“That, you are...” Mustafa licked his lips. “I’ll... talk to you later, maybe, okay?”

“Alright...”

Mustafa sighed softly. Here’s to hoping I’ll actually have the balls to call him again after this. He thought to himself as he brought the phone away from his ear. Considering how long it had taken him to initiate this five minute chat, it would probably take him an eternity to do it all a second time.

He was just about to hang up when he heard Neville say, “Wait!”

The phone was back to Mustafa’s ear in a flash. “Yes?”

Neville seemed to hesitate for a moment, but he asked, "If it’s not too far from your motel, do you... want to come over for a bit? Just until this storm lets up."

Mustafa’s eyes widened. “U-Uh...” He stammered, very much caught off guard. He had wanted to go to Neville’s house earlier, but he didn’t expect him to straight up invite him , completely unprovoked.

“If it’s too much trouble, then don’t worry about it,” Neville backtracked. “I know the weather is messy—“

“No it’s not,” Mustafa cut him off. “I mean, yes, it is, but I can still drive in it."

"Are you sure? I don't want you to get hurt."

"I won't. You know I'm a good driver."

"I know you're a slow driver."

"Close enough. I’ll... I’ll be over in a little bit.”

He heard Neville breathe out (in relief?) “Alright. You, uh, still know the way?”

“Yeah, I do.” Mustafa could never forget.

~

The one benefit to the rain being so heavy was that the roads were mostly clear. The few cars that were out at that hour were driven by people getting home late from work and lovesick idiots like Mustafa. He had to be careful, of course, since an accident was the absolute last thing he wanted at that moment (and always, really), but he maintained a decent speed as he went down familiar streets and made familiar turns, ones that he hadn't made in ages. All so that he could see Neville in-person again.

What would the two of them even do ? That question was bouncing around inside of Mustafa’s head the whole time he was driving. He... highly doubted that they would hook up, given the amount of time they had been apart. It was unlikely that they would so easily fall back into their old pattern. Chances were they would spend more time catching up (or sitting in uncomfortable silence) than anything else. He wasn’t quite sure how to feel about that — happy? Disappointed? An odd combination of both?

No matter how he might have felt, it was definitely happening. And before Mustafa knew it, he was pulling up to the front of Neville’s home, parking in what had been his usual spot only two years ago.

Mustafa shut the car off. Staring up at the house, he realized that it was no different than it had been the last time he visited. Very... ordinary. There weren’t any decorations up, despite Valentine's Day being just around the corner. He wasn’t quite sure what he expected, really — Neville had never been all that into decorating. Thought it was all a scam and a waste of time, even though it made his home stick out like a sore thumb during the holidays. Just as he’d said on the phone during their chat, he was as consistent as ever. The familiarity was... comforting.

Bracing himself for the weather, Mustafa stepped out into the rain, taking a moment to lock the car before hustling up to the front porch. His heart was thumping as he climbed up the steps. Come on, you can do this, don’t chicken out now. All the worst-case scenarios were starting to creep their way back into his mind, telling him that this visit was pointless. That they were far too different now, and getting together again even for a little while would only make things worse somehow. Mustafa stared intently down the doorbell, as if it were challenging him with its faint glow, and he pressed it before he could talk himself out of it. Screw that pessimism — he was already there. If talking to each other was bad, then running away when he was expected was even worse.

And, truthfully, leaving unnoticed at that point was impossible. The door was opened only a moment after he'd rung the bell, like Neville had been standing there waiting for him on the other side, and just like that Mustafa was once again faced with the man who he’d spent countless nights with only a few years ago. A soft, shy smile spread across Mustafa’s face. “...Hey, Nev.”

“Hi...” Neville’s expression mirrored his — his smile was still stunning. “It’s... certainly been awhile, hasn't it?”

“Sure has.” Mustafa’s hands were shoved deep in his pockets. Too long. Mustafa wasn't sure if he should say this last thought aloud or not.

“Well, don’t just stand there — it’s pouring.” Neville stepped aside. The rumble of thunder off in the distance did an equally good job of reminding Mustafa of the bad weather, and he nodded, making sure to wipe his feet as best as he could on the mat before he walked inside. "Just put your shoes with the rest of mine."

"Got it." Some of Neville's shoes were lined up against the opposite wall, surprisingly neat. This alone made it clear that Neville had managed to do (or, scrambled to do) some last minute cleaning before he showed up. They were usually a mess, one that Mustafa teased him about almost every visit. He couldn't say anything this time, however, and instead he went about slipping his own pair off.

Then, a large black shape came charging at him from the end of the hallway.

“Winston!!” Mustafa grinned, and he crouched down, scratching the bullmastiff on his head once he stopped in front of him. The dog responded by licking his face, and Mustafa laughed. “I missed you!”

“Looks like he missed you, too,” Neville mused from behind him, and Mustafa heard him close the door.

“It’s been way too long, boy-o!” Another rub to the head. Winston's tail was like a propeller, wagging rapidly. A paw came to rest on Mustafa's arm, and he faltered a little. "Hey, don't knock me over now."

"I don't mean to interrupt this tender reunion, but can I get you something to drink? Water, maybe?"

Mustafa looked up to Neville, Winston licking his hands now in an attempt to regain his attention. "That'd be good, thanks."

Neville gave him a nod and made his way towards the kitchen. Winston turned and followed him right away, which caused Mustafa's eyebrows to raise. "Wait, where're you goin'? I thought you wanted me to pet you!"

"He sees me going to the kitchen, he follows," Neville yelled back. "Seems to think me being in here automatically means he'll get a treat."

"Doesn't it?"

A pause. "...Well, yeah, but..." Neville trailed off, and Mustafa couldn't help but chuckle and roll his eyes. Who could've guessed the "Bastard" would be such a pushover?

Now alone in the hallway, Mustafa took a quick look around, noting some of the pictures on the wall. He wanted to say it was an evenly distributed assortment of photos, shots of family and the dog alike, but it was clear that there were just a few more of Winston than anything else. Neville's love for him seemed to have grown tenfold in the time he and Mustafa had been apart. Mustafa couldn't help but wish that he had a pet of his own. Winston had filled that role for awhile, but... well, it was hard for him to actually bond with an animal when he wasn't even speaking to its owner.

Mustafa decided to head into the living room then, and he sat down on the couch, shifting in the plush seat as he waited for Neville (and Winston, hopefully) to come back. The rain was still pattering away against the window, and Mustafa silently hoped that it would let up before the end of the night. Having to go back out into such a downpour and drive all the way to his motel — the same one he still didn't have a room at, now that he thought about it — would not be fun. The more he put it off, the more likely it seemed he would be spending that damp night in the backseat of his rental...

Mustafa shook his head and tried to get rid of the thought. He would worry about that later, after he did... whatever it was that he planned on doing with Neville. He still hadn't figured that out.

Sitting there and looking around the room, it was all so... familiar to Mustafa, just as so many other things were. Everything that had happened since he arrived at the house had been apart of his and Neville's routine — the old one, from before everything changed. It was all the same, from Winston greeting him at the front door to the drink offer. There was even some Netflix movie paused on the TV. Mustafa admittedly didn't recognize the name of it, but if he knew Neville half as well as he thought he did, it had to be tacky. Stupid Movie Night lived on, even though they hadn't actually gotten together to have one in years.

Mustafa missed this. All of this.

"Here you are," Neville at last returned to the room, handing Mustafa his glass.

"Thanks." Mustafa took it from him. Winston strolled in behind Neville, and Mustafa watched as he followed him closely, sniffing his lap after he sat down at the opposite end of the couch.

"I have nothing more for you, why are you looking at me like that?" Neville gave the dog a scratch behind the ear. "You've already gotten loads of treats tonight, take it easy."

"I see he's just as much of a mooch as he was before."

" Oh yeah. Actually, he might have gotten worse, if that's possible." Winston jumped up on the couch and settled himself as best as he could between Mustafa and Neville, the latter going right back to patting him on the head. "He's my boy, though. Wouldn't trade him for the world."

And then, without warning, it was quiet again.

The room that had just a moment ago been filled with their voices was now filled only with the sound of the rain. Mustafa licked his lips, and he stared at Neville, whose gaze was trained on Winston. When he looked to Mustafa, their eyes met, and Mustafa gave him an awkward smile (which was probably more like a grimace) before turning his attention to the paused movie on the screen. His nerves were beginning to make a comeback, just in time for he and Neville to have the first face-to-face conversation they'd had in a long time. He cursed his luck and, once again, his past self for not properly thinking through his plan for getting back in touch with Neville — he'd gotten as far as "call him and hope for the best" and left it at that.

Neville was the one that invited him over. He wouldn't have done that if there wasn't even a tiny part of him that wanted to see him, to talk to him. Even so, Mustafa was still hesitant, worried that he might slip up and say something that would do the opposite of saving their relationship. But he needed to take a chance. He'd told himself when he was standing on the porch that it was far too late to back out, and it was especially too late now that he was sitting on Neville's damn couch. Taking a slow sip of his water, Mustafa cleared his throat, and he made the first move. "Uh... So, things have been good with you?"

No sooner had the words left his mouth did Mustafa realize he'd asked him almost the exact same question on the phone earlier. However, Neville didn't seem to notice (or maybe he just didn't care). "They have." His hand was on Winston's back now, fingers slowly trailing over his fur. "Busy, but good."

"Weren't you wrestling on that cruise awhile ago?" At Neville's nod, "Damn, that must've been cool."

"It was... something, I'll say that much. Never thought I'd see myself wrestling in the middle of the ocean."

"Isn't there, like, no phone service on cruise ships, though? How did you even survive?"

"All the questions you could ask me about that trip, and you ask me about the wi-fi? I don't live entirely on social media like you do."

"Yeah, yeah..." Mustafa was tempted to take out his phone and begin scrolling through Twiter just to mess with Neville, but he decided against it. That would come later, once he was sure about where their relationship was at. "Either way, I'm really glad you've been able to find so much success."

Neville snorted. "Me too. And how about yourself? What've you been up to?"

"Things are..." Mustafa pursed his lips as he tried to come up with the right words. "They're okay. A little slow, but definitely not bad."

"Is that the polite version of 'I've been almost exclusively in dark matches for the last month'?"

He grinned sheepishly. "So, you know about that..."

"I haven't actually sat down and watched WWE programming in full in ages, but I still try to watch your stuff whenever I can. Once you stopped showing up, I kinda figured you were— ah, how do you put it? 'Stealing the show before the show'?"

"Hey, don't use my words against me like that!"

"Don't use them all the time, then! Seriously, you post the same thing after every dark match. Usually with a shirtless pic attached."

"Ooh, so you know about those , too?" Mustafa waggled his eyebrows. "You like 'em?"

Neville gave no response to this, though the hint of pink on his cheeks told Mustafa everything he needed to know. Cute .

Putting his glass down on the coffee table, Mustafa decided to follow Neville's example, and he also started to stroke Winston's back, the dog himself already sleeping. Mustafa had never known an animal that fell asleep so quickly until he met Winston. He nodded towards the TV. "I see you're watching a movie."

Neville looked to the screen. "Oh, yeah, that's right..." Had he forgotten all about it?

"Is it dumb?"

"Absolutely. You know I never watch anything good by choice."

"I knew it. So, what, is it a horror film?"

"It is, and it is atrocious , even by my standards. Sooner or later I'm gonna come across one that's actually decent, and I'm not gonna know how to handle it."

Mustafa chuckled. "There's no shortage of bad horror films, so I'd say your odds of finding a good one are pretty slim."

"Thankfully. It's, um..." Neville stopped suddenly, and Mustafa's brows furrowed.

"What?"

"It's... nothing, don't worry about it."

A statement sure to make a worrier like Mustafa worry every time he heard it. "Are you sure? You can tell me."

"Eh, you'll just laugh..."

"I will not." Mustafa's tone was gentle, yet firm. "I promise."

Neville blinked at him, then back at the screen. Mustafa couldn't even begin to imagine what it was that he was so hesitant to tell him. Of course, if Neville insisted that he didn't want to talk about it, then Mustafa would back off, but... Still, he didn't want Neville to think that he couldn't trust him not to make fun of him. Not if he wanted them to be back together for good.

Fortunately, Mustafa's prying seemed to be enought convince Neville. A moment later, they locked eyes again, and Neville quietly admitted, "Well... These movies just aren't the same when you're watching them alone. Sometimes I miss having someone to make fun of them with."

Oh. Mustafa's lips parted, his hand coming to a halt on Winston's back. This sudden stoppage caused Neville's hand to bump into his — ever so slightly, their fingers were touching. He expected Neville to flinch back, but he didn't, and his gaze was just as steady as it had been before. Mustafa couldn't bring himself to look away. Was this... an admission that he wanted he two of them to get back together...? Was that the sign that Mustafa had been looking for? He swallowed. "Um... Neville—"

BANG!

A sudden crash of thunder startled all three of them. The lights flickered, and a second later they went out, plunging the room into complete darkness. The loud noise prompted the now-wide awake Winston to leap off of the couch and bolt out into the hallway. "Winston, no!" Mustafa called after him.

"Christ, not again..." Neville griped. "Now is not the time for this..."

"No kidding..." Mother Nature sure had interesting timing.

The flashlight from Neville's phone was then turned on. Neville squinted at the screen. "Damn thing's gonna die if I keep the light on all night..." He muttered. He then stood. "I'll be right back, gotta go grab some candles."

"Can you check on Winston?" Mustafa pleaded to Neville's silhouette, which was already moving out of the room. "Make sure he's okay?"

"He's probably just in the kitchen — that's his hub whenever the power goes out." The little bit of light that had been in the living room faded away as Neville went down the hallway. "Yep, he's here. Hidin' out behind the island."

Mustafa breathed a sigh of relief. Winston was still scared, but at least he wasn't hurt. That was what mattered. "Good. You think he'll come back in with us?"

"Probably not." Neville's voice was fainter now — he must have gone into another room, possibly his bedroom. Mustafa was disappointed to hear this, but he had to have faith that Neville was wrong. He was sure Winston would rejoin them at some point before Mustafa needed to leave (he couldn't leave without properly saying goodbye, after all).

It was only when Neville re-entered the room holding two scented candles and a box of matches that Mustafa remembered the significance of those items.

The candles. How could he have forgotten about the damn candles ? He watched as Neville placed them down on the coffee table and went about lighting them, his brows furrowed as he moved the match from one wick to the next. That look of (almost unnecessary) concentration was such a familiar sight to Mustafa, one that he'd grown to like quite a bit during their time together, but also one that he had not seen for far too long. Now that he was looking at it again, he was transported to a different time, back when he'd first been invited to Neville's house. It very likely wasn't the same candles, but some of very similar scents and colors had been lit when he'd arrived. He teased Neville at first — he never thought he was a Mood Lighting kind of guy — but it turned out that he was just into candles. There was at least one in most of the rooms in the house. They had been a trademark of sorts for Neville.

Mustafa had lost sight of that fact after their separation. And now, on this gloomy, rainy night, he was once again being reminded of something that he'd missed terribly.

"There..." Neville's voice interrupted Mustafa's reminiscing, and he sat back down on the couch — notably closer than he had before, Mustafa realized. "That should be good enough."

Mustafa stared at the small, dancing flames. "Y...Yeah, it's fine," he replied.

"Something bothering you?" Shit. Mustafa had made his mood just a little too obvious.

"No, not really," he fibbed.

"Are you sure?" Then, "Am I... Am I sitting to close to you, or...?"

"No!" Mustafa quickly assured. "No, that's not it. It's..." He considered lying again, but after pushing Neville into talking a few moments ago he felt he had no right to keep any secrets from him — not to mention that Neville might get the wrong idea again. It was best to tell the truth. "These candles remind me a lot of the times we used to hang out. You had them lit all the time."

Neville followed his gaze, also becoming entranced by the fire. "Ah... Yes, that's right. The cinnamon one was your favorite, wasn't it?"

"It was."

"I wish I still had one, but it burnt out a long time ago. I didn't think to buy another one, to be honest."

Because Neville associated that scent with him. That had to be the reason. Neville had no reason to get a candle of someone's favorite scent if that "someone" wasn't even around to appreciate it. "I..."

"Hmm?"

"I..." Mustafa swallowed. "I miss you. A lot."

Neville didn't say anything to that. Mustafa continued, "I miss seeing you backstage, and talking to you regularly, and watching you wrestle, and just... being with you. Those nights we spent together were so fun , and I looked forward to them. I loved watching dumbass movies with you, and eating way too many sweets, and... everything else. But all of it— it just stopped . Out of nowhere. And I really, really wish that it didn't.

"I... I know you and I are both busy these days in our own ways. And I know that maintaining a relationship with our packed schedules is gonna be tough. But... I'm willing to give it a try, if you are. You obviously don't have to do anything you don't want to do, and I'm more than okay with you deciding that this isn't something that you're interested in, but I wanted to at the very least let you know how I feel."

Satisfied with his rambling, Mustafa took a deep breath, leaning back into the couch. He folded his hands in his lap and waited anxiously for Neville to reply — if he ever did. He was still staring at the candles, his expression unreadable. Maybe Mustafa's sudden confession was a lot to take in at once. Especially since it came out of seemingly nowhere, and was prompted by candles of all things. Is he... okay?

But then, faintly, Neville at last said something. "...I'm the one that fucked everything up."

"What...?"

"I'm the one that stopped texting you. I should've done more to keep in touch with you."

"But it's not like I ever tried to start a conversation," Mustafa argued. "I stopped, too. I'm just as responsible for what happened. You can't only blame yourself."

"I know, but..." Neville chewed his lower lip. "But I care about you. I never stopped caring about you, not even when I was sorting out my contract. And I should've done a better job at showing it. Instead, I just..." He shrugged. "I just let our relationship die."

Mustafa debated it for a moment, but ultimately he decided to take a chance, and he reached over and took hold of Neville's hand. For the second time that evening, Neville did not shy away from the contact. "It doesn't have to stay dead if you don't want it to. We can... try again."

"I want to," Neville admitted. "But like you said, it's not going to be easy. We're always traveling, and we're on completely different work schedules, and..."

"We can make it work," Mustafa cut him off. "It'll take some getting used to, but I think we can do it."

"But what if everything happens all over again? What if... What if something comes up and we just stop talking again?"

"Do you want that to happen?"

"No, absolutely not."

"Then let's try our hardest not to let it happen. We don't have to text every single day or anything, but if we both try to send each other something every now and again, things could work out just fine."

Neville swallowed. "...You're really serious about this?"

"I am," Mustafa said, clearly. "I wasn't lying before when I said that I missed you, and everything that came along with you. I wanna give us one more chance, see where things go. And if you want to, then... I say we go for it. What do we got to lose?"

Neville, whose eyes had been glued to the flames, turned his head to meet Mustafa's gaze. The soft, orange glow from the candles illuminated his face. The light gave him a haunting, mesmerizing appearance. One that Mustafa couldn't look away from even if he'd wanted to.

He looked... amazing.

Mustafa couldn't help himself from slowly leaning in and pressing a kiss to his lips.

It was soft at first. Mustafa wanted to provide Neville with ample time to pull away. It wasn't until he felt Neville gently reciprocating the kiss that he deepened it, a hand moving up to cup Neville's cheek. Mustafa's lips parted, and Neville's tongue slid into his mouth. The intimacy was almost dizzying. This was what he'd been waiting for. After all that debating about whether or not to make that phone call, this was what he'd wanted. What he'd missed so badly.

It had been over two years since their last kiss. Somehow, this one was the best of all.

If only Winston hadn't decided that that was when he'd choose to return to the living room.

All the two of them heard was another rumble of thunder and the sound of nails frantically clicking on the floor before the dog leapt onto the couch, where Neville had been sitting earlier. "Oh my God—" Neville gasped, putting a hand on his chest. "What the hell, Winston?!"

Surprised as he was, Mustafa couldn't help but laugh. "Hey, he came back! That's good, right?"

"Would've been good any other time..." Neville moped, but Mustafa putting an arm around his shoulders prompted him to smile, and a moment later he moved in for a second kiss. Just as good as the first one.

"...Hey," Neville breathed out against his lips. Between kisses, he continued, "Did you... ever end up getting a motel room...?"

Mustafa froze, eyes wide. In the excitement of being back together with Neville, he'd forgotten about the other date he'd be having that evening — the one with the backseat of his rental. "Uh..." He grinned sheepishly. "No, I did not."

Neville smirked. Mustafa's heart rate ticked up just a bit. "Would you like to stay with me tonight? We still have some... catching up to do, you know."

Mustafa's expression mirrored his. Suddenly, his sleeping in the backseat seemed a hell of a lot less likely. "You're right..."

"Is that a 'yes', then?"

"It is. But , I left my bags in the trunk. With my pajamas in them."

This statement caused Neville to chuckle, and he kissed Mustafa again, tugging on his lower lip with his teeth when he pulled back. "Hmm, Mustafa..."

"What?"

"I wasn't anticipating either one of us sleeping with clothes on tonight..."

[artificialqueens]

This Just Can't Be Summer Love Pt.1 (raja x raven) - Chardonnay

AN: Since Pride month is coming to an end I decided to keep the spirit alive with a little multi-chapter story! Lots of fluffy sweetness, sexiness, and of course weed and alcohol as Raja and Raven attend an out-of-town pride event together. Thanks to all my readers who keep me submitting. You guys are the best!

Sutan opened his eyes, squinting at the sunlight invading the small bedroom in his West Hollywood bachelor apartment. He still felt his head spinning, accompanied by a dull ache that was likely a result of his escapades the night before. The sun was just peeking through a crack in the loosely tacked up blanket covering his bedroom window, shining a soft, warm light into the room that danced across the handsome sleeping face beside him, just inches from his own. David staying at his apartment had become a habit lately, it happened so often that he’d sort of halfway moved in with all his stuff that he left here. Watching his defined features still resting in a deep sleep, Sutan could help thinking about how lucky he’d been lately getting to spend so much time with David. Both of them were busy drag queens, and they were very aware of their reality. It would be unrealistic to expect any kind of commitment in a relationship where at any point one person could be stuck travelling halfway around the country for weeks at a time, so both he and David had decided it would be best to keep things more casual between them. They’d spent many of their weekends together over the past couple months, his stay sometimes running into the weekday as well. With Raven now hosting at Micky’s every Monday they had more of a set schedule of when they would see one another. They would spend their Monday nights at the bar, Sutan either performing in the show or just watching in the audience, and then they would come back to his apartment and spend the night. Sometimes David would come a couple of days early to hang out and play, and other times he would stay into the week and they’d relax and go into the city together. Either way, they had found a perfect balance of “seeing” one another without expecting any kind of complete commitment. It was the best friends with benefits situation Sutan had ever found himself in. David was unthinkably hot and they had fantastic chemistry in the bedroom. Sutan had rediscovered the enjoyment of regular sex with the same person while simultaneously being glad that he didn’t feel tied down or pressured when he was away travelling. The 2 queens just considered themselves pseudo-roommates and took pleasure in each other’s company whenever they could.

Sutan continued to sleepily admire the steady sound of David breathing, smiling as his fingertips just barely brushed against the bare skin on his back. It was a Tuesday morning and as usual their Monday night had been filled with lots of booze and weed, and Sutan knew that meant David would wake up any minute now complaining of a hangover. Although he didn’t actually feel too badly himself, Sutan still got up and got a glass of water so he could have it ready with some Tylenol waiting on the bedside table for David. He knew he didn’t have to do these kinds of things for someone he wasn’t even in an actual relationship with, but for some reason he liked providing David with whatever he wanted before he even wanted it. It had been a long time since Sutan had had someone to care for. Plus he knew how insufferable and whiny David could be right when he woke up.

After he had used the washroom, freshened up, and put the water and bottle of pills on the side table, Sutan carefully crawled back into the bed where he had been lying next to David all night. He got back under the covers and tried to cuddle in as close as possible without waking David up. He had just settled his arm across David’s shoulders when Sutan saw the warmth of dark brown eyes slowly blinking open.

“Good morning” Sutan purred as he ran his hands through David’s growing hair, wondering how someone managed to look so good just after waking up.

“Mm morning” David hummed back with a small smile. Even though it had been over a month and a half, he still wasn’t used to waking up next to Sutan. And what a sight it was to wake up to, his long dark hair a tousled mess from their coupling the night before, his smile soft but still bright enough to fill the room. The sleepy sound of his deep voice was barely more than a whisper, but it was still the most beautiful sound to hear first thing in the morning. It definitely beat the sound of his alarm clock back home. David closed his eyes again as he felt the familiar panging in the back of his head that let him know they had gotten too wild the night before. Sutan immediately recognized the flash of discomfort across David’s features and reached for the pills on the bedside table behind him.

“Here, I’ve already got some Tylenol for you. And water.”

“Oh” David smiled “Has anyone ever told you that you are the best roommate ever?” He squinted his eyes open dramatically looking up.

Sutan smirked as David sat up slightly and took the water and pills from him. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure you did, over and over last night.”

David just gave him a look over the glass as he swallowed down the medicine, not saying anything because he knew he wasn’t over-exaggerating. Their sex was fantastic every time they were together, but last night David had been especially appreciative of all of Sutan’s attentions. As if they hadn’t just been together the same way two nights before.

After placing the glass back on the table beside him, David relaxed back into the pillows, not wanting to actually leave the cover of Sutan’s bed yet. He turned his body in toward Sutan, who was propped up on one elbow watching him intently. David lazily draped his arm over Sutan’s torso who continued to comb through David’s hair, his fingernails like a massage against his scalp. They laid in silence for a moment as they simply felt each other’s skin, Sutan’s small, intimate touches were causing David’s whole body to tingle in anticipation. Sutan’s fingers made their way down David’s neck and over his protruding collarbone, an obsession of his that had developed in the past few weeks. As he stared absentmindedly at his own fingers dancing across David’s bare skin, Sutan spoke.

“Are you excited for today? I remember you said you hadn’t been to San Jose for pride before.” His fingers continued to trace over the tattoo on David’s shoulder. “You live in California, how is that even possible?”

David shrugged “I guess I usually came up to LA or San Diego for pride. Most of my friends are up here anyways so we never went into the Valley.”

Sutan smiled at his nonchalance. He was quickly learning that David wasn’t quite the party animal he initially assumed. Sutan had probably been to every major city pride event within California at least once, maybe twice. But this year he was invited with his season 3 “sister” Shangela to promote Drag Race at the San Jose pride event, and he was happy that he convinced David to tag along with him, not particularly fond of the idea of spending an entire day alone with Shangela. He was however very fond of the idea of spending the entire day and night with David. Because they weren’t officially labeling themselves as any kind of ‘couple’, it was very rare that David and Sutan actually went out during the day together other than to occasionally go into town and stop at the Alley or another shopping centre. Today was their first time going out on anything that could be considered a ‘date’ since they’d first started sleeping with each other, and they both hoped that fans of the show wouldn’t get too crazy harassing them about being there together.

“But to answer your question, yes I am very excited that we get to spend the whole day drinking and dancing and having fun.”

Sutan snuggled in even closer and placed a soft kiss on David’s lips. He smiled at how sweet and domestic David always was when they were alone. Any time they were out in public or even with friends, he always had this put-on icy persona that made people feel slightly intimidated. This was especially true when David was all up in full drag, Raven was a self-declared ice queen. But out of drag and behind closed doors, David and Raven were both very domesticated and submissive personalities. Sutan had learned very quickly that all of David’s bitchiness was a front, and even though he could be a bit of a brat sometimes, he was actually one of the sweetest people Sutan had ever met. He just chose to show it only to people he felt comfortable with.  

Sutan’s hand began to trace lower down David’s chest, sending shivers up his back and making his morning semi twitch. But despite Sutan’s affectionate touching, David tried his best to stay focused on their schedule for the day, always worried about things running smoothly. “What time do we have to be at the airport?” He couldn’t believe that they were taking a one and a half hour flight.

“Not until 2.”

David looked at the clock that read 9:32am. “Oh that’s still a while from now.”

“Mhmm.” Sutan pressed another kiss to his forehead, then the bridge of his nose. His hand moving even lower down David’s torso. “Lots of time to relax and get ready and do…other things before we go.” Sutan’s hand moved down to scratch over David’s hip, David’s leg subconsciously tangling with Sutan’s, their inner thighs rubbing softly against one another. Sutan’s hand was now softly grazing over David’s ass and lower back, and he felt David’s fingertips lightly digging into him in response.

David was very distracted by Sutan’s hands on him, his eyes heavy and feeling the electricity in his touch every time Sutan would get close to a really intimate spot. But still he tried to keep his voice even and his mind focused “I want to shower before we go, I feel all gross from last night.”

Sutan was now so close to him they were almost lying directly on top of each other. “I think I can make that happen” he whispered into David’s ear as his index finger pressed gently against his entrance, not going inside, just teasing.

David’s eyes closed and his mouth fell open at the sensation, more blood rushing down into his cock. He let his head fall forward and rest against Sutan’s shoulder as he subconsciously arched his back into his hand, little noises escaping his throat every so often with each wave of pleasure. His nails against Sutan’s back were becoming less and less gentle. They were now laying as close as they could possibly be, their torsos flush against each other, their legs completely intertwined. Sutan’s hand came back up and swiftly slipped between them, finding David’s boner. He heard David groan against his skin at the contact as Sutan began to stroke him slowly.

“Yeah. Is that good babe?”

David only nodded his head, his eyes still closed. Sutan tilted his chin up and captured his lips as he continued to touch him. Both of them lazily swirling their tongues in and out of each other’s mouths.

Sutan spoke against David’s lips, “Are you gonna let me come shower with you?” David was sometimes a bit hesitant to share his shower time, claiming he’d get distracted and not have enough time to actually clean himself. But hygiene wasn’t at all what was on his mind at the moment.

“Uh huh” David nodded slightly and breathed back into Sutan’s mouth, completely melted under his touch.

Sutan smiled at David’s breathy answer and shifted his body slightly, lifting one leg higher over David’s hip. He somehow moved himself even closer, both of them looking down and adjusting themselves until their cocks were positioned right next to one another. David drew in a breath as he felt Sutan wrap his hand around both of them and begin stroking again. This time they both moved their hips in time with his strokes. The friction between both of their almost full erections rubbing together and coming from Sutan’s hand was amazing. David laid his head back against the pillows, fully enjoying the attention he has receiving, when Sutan leaned down and started to kiss and suck and nip at his neck.

“Ahh Sutan, stop!” David giggled and tried to playfully push him away, still moaning every so often from the assisted hand job. “Ah, seriously stop. I’m gonna—“

David pushed his hand away and looked at Sutan, silently communicating exactly what he wanted.

“Shower?” Sutan asked.

David nodded his head. He was already feeling so horny from Sutan’s touching, he needed to take a minute to clean himself up and calm himself down. “Just let me use the washroom first.” He got up and gave Sutan a quick peck on the lips before crawling off the bed.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

The water cascading over their bodies was scalding hot, the steam filling the bathroom completely and they had barely even touched each other yet. They stood under the steady stream, Sutan’s arms completely enveloping David from behind as he nuzzled and kissed the side of his neck. Shower sex was his favorite way to wake up in the morning. The combination of water hitting his bare skin and the pleasure from being inside someone energized his body like no cup of coffee could. They didn’t have a lot of time, they still had to pack up their drag and their regular boy clothes before they left for the airport, but Sutan was determined to give David everything he wanted this morning.

“You’re so warm David” Sutan whispered in his ear. His right hand moved down to splay across David’s flat stomach as he gently rocked into him from behind. His cock was still half hard from their morning wake up and pressing into David’s lower back. David’s body responded immediately, pushing his ass back against Sutan and making him groan softly. Sutan’s hand travelled lower to find David’s cock again. “Should I continue where I left off?” He didn’t even wait for David to respond before he began to stroke him again, languidly just as this morning.

David rested his head back against Sutan’s shoulder, mouth slightly open, drowning in the feeling of Sutan’s hands on him. And just like this morning, at the smallest exposure Sutan dove down to kiss and suck on David’s neck and jaw. The stimulation quickly became overwhelming for David so he buried his fingers in Sutan’s wet hair, pulling his head up from his own neck to kiss him deeply. As their tongues began to tangle, David managed to step out of Sutan’s grasp and turn to face him. David was already rock hard but from what he could feel in his back Sutan was still mostly limp. He felt obligated to return the favour. It was only polite after all.

David grabbed either side of his face and kissed Sutan even harder, arms eventually wrapping around his neck as they continued to make out like teenagers behind the bleachers. David’s kisses began to travel lower down Sutan’s jaw and neck and clavicle, and his hand reached down to just barely ghost over Sutan’s cock, a little harder now but still only about half erect. David continued to press kisses lower and lower down Sutan’s body, eventually resolving to kneel in front of him, his full lips placing kisses on Sutan’s protruding hip and pelvic bones. The water continued to wash over Sutan’s body, spraying it right into David’s face as he took Sutan in one hand. He squeezed slightly and let his tongue reach out to lick the underside of his cock before looking up. David was searching for Sutan’s gaze, searching for a silent permission to continue. When they finally found each other’s eyes, all David could see was Sutan’s need and desire. It was all the permission he needed as David continued to lick at him and eventually swallow Sutan down. His lips closed around the base of his cock, and David held Sutan’s gaze as he slowly slid his mouth all the way up, feeling every inch of him until he reached the tip. David swirled his tongue around the head, playing with him before closing his eyes and sliding all the way back down, as Sutan stared with his mouth open and eyes glazed. One of the hottest things that turned David on was feeling someone move and get hard in his mouth, being directly responsible for their pleasure made him feel both powerful and submissive, still knowing he was doing exactly what his top needed him to do. The mix of water and saliva was stimulating for both of them, and David felt Sutan growing harder when he hollowed his cheeks and moved rhythmically up and down. Sutan was involuntarily moaning now at the feel of David’s mouth, the low baritone occasionally echoing around them. He held onto the back of David’s head as he tried to gently fuck his mouth, not wanting to cause him too much discomfort but also enjoying the feeling of his cock twitching in pleasure.

As much as he would have loved to blow his load right into David’s soft and willing mouth, Sutan knew that he had promised to get David off too, and truthfully he was already lusting for the feel of David’s ass around him. He begrudgingly pushed David’s face away from him.

“Come here.”

David stood up so quickly you’d think someone had delivered an electric shock. He stared into Sutan’s eyes with excitement, awaiting his next direction. But instead Sutan surprised him and leaned down for a kiss. As they began slowly and leisurely kissing one another, David felt both Sutan’s hands snake around him, grabbing and squeezing his ass.

“Mm you’re so good at that. I wish I could last and enjoy your lips of me forever” He murmured against David’s lips. His fingers were starting to explore deeper, and Sutan reached out to grab the lube of the shelf behind them. He continued placing small kisses on David’s full lips, occasionally sucking on one while he squirted lube all over his fingers. He teased the outside of David’s hole a little before slipping a finger inside, not going too deep but moving in and out enough to prep him sufficiently. David let out a moan when he felt Sutan press another finger inside, his forehead resting on Sutan’s left shoulder as he heard him praise “Shh, I know. You’re doing so good baby. So good.”

After a few more minutes of prepping, David turned himself around, both hands pressed into the tiled wall. He instantly felt the warmth of Sutan’s body behind him, one hand gently caressing his back while the other lubed himself up. David was practically vibrating in anticipation when he felt Sutan kissing and biting at his earlobe, his cock already leaking.

“Are you ready for me babe?” He spoke low in David’s ear.

David immediately nodded his head. Sutan was being very sweet and slow this morning, and as much as David was enjoying their more laid back coupling, it was also driving him crazy. Finally Sutan motioned for David to lift his left leg. Of course he had one of those foot rests installed, meant for shaving but they both knew what it was primarily used for. David placed his left foot up on the rest and used one hand to pull his ass apart, ready and waiting. Without warning Sutan pushed himself halfway inside, pausing to take a breath and let David adjust himself around him. He pulled himself out a little before slowly entering the rest of the way, sliding in easily with the large amount of lube between them. David cried out at the feeling, his hole stretching and adjusting to compensate Sutan’s girth. After a moment David nodded and Sutan began to move. He held onto David’s hips and gave him long, deep strokes, eliciting moans from both men. Sutan wrapped one arm completely around David’s waist and started to thrust a little faster, but still deep enough to hit his prostate.

“Ah, fuck Sutan…” David reached behind them both and grabbed onto his ass, feeling the muscles clenching as he pushed up into him. Sutan held him close, still wrapped around his waist.

“Oh you like that.” It wasn’t a question, Sutan could see and hear David’s pleasure as he fucked him harder. His hole squeezing Sutan’s cock so tightly every time he tried to pull out, milking every inch.

David let out a noise and nodded in response anyways, truly enjoying the contrast between how gentle Sutan was treating him and his rough thrusting. Usually he really enjoyed just sitting back and submitting for Sutan, but right now he was actively fucking him back, bent over with both hands now pressed into the wall. He felt Sutan’s breath hot by his ear when he whispered.

“Touch yourself for me babe.”

David did just as he was told and the sensation made him moan loudly into the small shower.

“Yes! That’s it, fuck I’m so close” he heard Sutan grunt in his ear.

Before they knew it they were both coming, the sound of their groans filling the entire bathroom. David rested his face against the cool tile as he felt Sutan shoot his cum inside him, it was one of his favorite parts of being able to fuck bareback.

As they both came down from their orgasms, they continued their hygienic routine, helping rinse each other’s hair and wash away any trace of their exertion. Sutan’s favorite part of sharing the shower is the feeling of someone else scrubbing his scalp. It was almost enough to turn him on again. When he started to touch David’s legs again, raising just a little bit too high, David batted him away and scolded him, half laughing half serious.

“Stop! We don’t have time. We still have to pack and call a cab to the airport!”

“Mmm fine.” Sutan wrapped his arms around David again, burying his face in the crook of his neck. Most days he wished he could just stay in bed all day, enjoying David thoroughly. But today was going to be a fun day for them, and he was certain that there would be many more opportunities to fuck each other again later.

They both left the warmth of the shower and toweled off, now refreshed and completely ready to take on the excitement of the rest of the day.

[kpop-group-reactions]

this was an ask for the smut prompt. I'm posting them separately because I didn't want a long ask to label with a billion tags :/ i'm lazy tbh. sorry if this kind of bad, i lost interest with this near the very end. hope you enjoy, though. - minnie 💘

WARNINGS - mentions of sex (duh), mentions of rough sex

#3 - I’m gonna fuck you so hard that you forget you ever even met that asshole

Today was not the day you usually went over to your best friend Kihyun's house. Especially with a large suitcase, 3 boxes left in the back of your car, and a tear-stained face.

You had officially ended things with your unfaithful boyfriend, and you had no choice but to move out of the apartment you both had shared.

To put it lightly, you knew Kihyun was the only person that would let you crash on his couch.

He didn't like the fact you were knocking on his door at almost one in the morning (he despised this, actually), but you're his best friend, so he let you in, worried even through his sleepy demeanor. Of course his sleepy state changed immediately as soon as you dropped your suitcase to the ground; hard. Woke him up, that's for sure.

"y/n, what happened? did he kick you out?" The mother in Kihyun showed itself.

You shook your head, and began to tell him everything. What he did, and how everything feel apart. You were bawling your eyes out. He did his best to comfort you, and he did the best he could. He felt bad, so he said you could crash on the couch for however long you needed.

A month had past, and the couch had become your living space. You only got up to go to work, which was at night during the week, or do basic necessities to survive. The weekend you spent your day cuddled in blankets and surrounded by tissues while Kihyun went to work or run errands. You were like a heartbroken teenager experiencing their first break up.

Kihyun was reaching a limit, though: His living room was a mess, and he couldn't invite over his friends for video games for the entirety of your stay. You looked like crap, to put it nicely. He was kind of sick of seeing you like this, and decided Mother Kihyun had to make another visit.

"y/n, you can't stay like this." Kihyun said, walking into the living room. "You look like shit."

You sat up and what he said, kind of confused. You were in your own world still, having him still on your mind wasn't helpful.

"y/n, you have to forget about him." Kihyun said, throwing in the towel to be blunt with you. "He's turning you into a heartbroken teenager. And you're not a teenager."

"How can I forget about him?" You asked. "I loved him and he broke my heart!"

"Yeah, that's why you broke up with him." Kihyun stated. "Because he hurt you and doesn't deserve you."

You got a tad bit mad. "But I still care about him!"

And so, you went on, and on about how much you cared about him still. Kihyun was getting very fed up about this.

"I care so much about him." You said. "I wanted to marry this guy!"

He couldn't stand it anymore. He wanted you to shut up, so he could tell you how dumb you sounded.

So Kihyun did the most logical thing and kissed you.

This definitely shut you up.

"You know what?" Kihyun said. "If you'll let me, I'll make you forget it all."

Of course none of this clicked in your head. You were still in shock after the kiss.

"W-What?" You asked, blinking a few time to try and bring yourself back to reality.

"Let me try this then." Kihyun said. "I’m gonna fuck you so hard that you'll forget you ever even met that asshole."

"Y-You like me?" You said.

"Enough to fuck you? Yes."

Now you were paying attention. He gave you a look in the eyes. He still wanted permission before he went through with his statement. With a nod of your head, he attacked your lips with his. His lip cascaded to your neck, and lower.

Then Kihyun fufilled his promise.