#me in college getting a ticket every other day because they wouldn’t give me a disability pass because “’they thought I would heal’

[kaijuno]

[morganski-19]

I Don't Know Which Way's Home

Chapter 19: Nightmares

ao3 link, Part 1, Part 18

tw: minor descriptions of physical assault, PTSD panic attack, car crashes, and emetophobia (very minor description)

Present Day, June 1986

It’s been three weeks since the court ruled in Steve’s favor, and he still doesn’t quite believe it. Doesn’t believe it when his lawyer calls to tell him that the payment will be coming to him soon. Doesn’t believe it when that money gets transferred to him. When he pays his lawyer and it’s all over.

Steve doesn’t have to fight with them anymore. Have to think about them anymore. They have absolutely no power over him whatsoever.

He doesn’t know what to do with that really.

All his life, he’s been playing the part designed for him. Done what other people wanted, doing things for himself later. In secret. Now that most of it was out, the pressure gone, he doesn’t know what to do anymore.

Steve gets up to go to a job that he didn’t want in the first place. Really only got because his dad wanted him to get a part time job as punishment for not getting into college. Following Robin after the mall blew up. It was all just stops on a train that he was given the ticket to.

Now he switched trains on his own accord. Went in a different direction. One that he chose because he wanted it. Sounded like a life he wanted to live. Sounded like there were other passengers on the train that might get off at the same destination. Want to spend time with him as they traveled. Get to know him. Maybe even love him.

And that’s what happened. He still doesn’t know how, or why. What to do with it. But he’s learning to.

If anyone were to ask him what he was going to do with this life he has now, with the winnings, he wouldn’t know. He doesn’t know what he wants to do tomorrow let alone in the next five years. The picture he has in his head looks the same as it is now. Happy with everyone he loves around him, looking exactly the same.

But that’s not what’s going to happen.

The kids are going to grow up, change, go off to school. Julie will too, leaving his house empty again. Robin will eventually go to a school that can give her more than a community college can. People in the town will continue to outgrow it.

While Steve continues to stay in the same spot forever. Rooted in the same place that hurt him so much. The same place that helped him grow into someone he’s actually proud of. Showed him the life he could have if he was just brave enough to go and catch it.

Now that he has it, it’s all he’s ever wanted. He’s not ready to let it go quite yet.

“Do you think you could teach me how to drive?” Julie asks Steve over dinner.

Steve freezes in shock, head shooting up to look at her. “Yeah, sure, I guess.”

He’s known her less than a year but the question still makes him feel so old. Feeling like he watched her grow up as she went through so many changes. So many emotions. Slowly formed into the person she is now right in front of him.

“Cool.” Julie says, going back to her dinner.

Steve wonders how long she’s been wanting to learn how to drive. She’s been able to for over a year now, just never got around to it. With the nature of her mother’s accident, he wasn’t sure when she would want to ever learn. If she would want to.

“Is there a reason you wanted to learn?” He asks, trying to sound nonchalant.

Julie shrugs. “Just haven’t yet. And I’ve been thinking about maybe getting a part time job, saving to try and get a car of my own before I go to college. I know it’s still a year away, but cars are expensive and minimum wage is shit.”

College. Something he knew was coming but was hoping it could be a little farther away. He wonders if this is how every parent feels. Wishing their kid would just stay in one place for a little while longer and stop growing. Stop changing. So they don’t have to change with them.

He’s not a parent. Not yet, and not for a long while. But he can’t help but feel some sort of protective instinct over these kids that changed his life. Want to look out for them in every situation, make sure that nothing ever hurts them. He knows that’s not how life is supposed to go. Kids are supposed to make mistakes and learn from them. That’s the way it went for him, so it’s the way it will go for them.

He just didn’t want it to.

“I don’t know why you’re so worked up about this,” Robin comments while unboxing the newest releases. “We all knew this day would come someday.”

Steve sighs, leaning on the door of the stock room. “I just wanted that someday to take longer to actually get here. It’s like the last few years went by so fast and got so muddled in my mind that I forgot time kept moving.”

“I get that. But,” she places the last tape on the cart and turns to him, “just because the kids are getting older, doesn’t mean that they’re leaving.”

They are in a way, though. Even though he knows that won’t be permanent. That they won’t forget about him the way other people have, it still makes the anxiety trapped in his chest start to rise. The instinct to hold on tight and never let go so much stronger.

“This town is too small for them. We both know that. They are going to go do amazing things, while I’m still here doing the same mediocre things I always do.” He holds the door open for her as she rolls the cart through.

“Have you ever thought about doing other things?”

Steve pauses in front of the cart, making Robin run into him. “What?”

“You’re acting like you can’t do other things. If you hate what you’re doing right now, try something different. No one’s forcing you to do the same thing you were doing yesterday.”

She pivots the cart to move around him, leaving him with thoughts he’s honestly been scared to think about.

Steve’s made a routine for himself. Go to work, pick up the kids, drive them around, go home. Live a life that he enjoys and work a job that he kind of hates. Follow his best friend wherever she goes because he’ll love whatever it is.

Was it what he thought he’d be doing with his life, no. Is it something he wanted to do the rest of his life? He doesn’t want to answer that question. The rest of his life was uncertain for the longest time. Each year testing the strength of his body and his mind. Making it feel like tomorrow was some bright future he may never get to see.

It was easy to get so stuck in the present when the future seemed like it would never come. Now that it is, Steve is scared to figure out what it is. What it means for him.  

“Look,” Robin continues, knowing exactly how he’s feeling. “I’m not saying you have to pick what you want to do right now. Or tomorrow, or the day after that. I’m just saying that if you really hate doing this,” she waves towards the shelves, “then you can start thinking about what you would want to do instead. There is still so much time for you to figure it all out.”

Time is something Steve’s learning how to deal with. But Robin’s right. Maybe it’s finally the right moment to think about what he can do with it.

. . .

“That is so exciting,” El exclaims when Julie tells her that Steve is going to teach her how to drive. “You will be the first one of us to learn how to drive.”

“Well, that’s actually Max,” Lucas corrects. “She learned how to drive a while ago.”

“Yeah poorly,” Mike adds. “And only in a parking lot.”

Max rolls her eyes. “I drove in the street that one time.”

“And almost got us killed.”

“Scared Steve shitless.” Dustin laughs.

“Scared all of us shitless.”

“Not me,” Lucas defends. I wasn’t scared.”

Dustin snorts. “So that wasn’t your high-pitched scream then?”

Lucas kicks him under the table.

El turns to Max. “When did you drive?”

Max motions for El to get closer and whispers it into her ear. Just another reminder that Julie has no idea what they are talking about. Another inside joke that she’ll never understand. El takes a second to be shocked before bursting out into giggles.

When the bell rings, Max stops Julie before she can walk away. “Hey, could you help me bring my stuff to my next class. El has a test today so she can’t do it.”

Julie shrugs. “Yeah, sure.”

She picks up Max’s backpack and carries it in front of her. Following after Max as she yells at the groups of seniors who like to stand in the hallway and block everyone’s path.

“So, you and El have gotten pretty close, yeah?” Max asks way too casually than she should for such a loaded question. And in the middle of the hallway.

“I mean we’re friends, right,” Julie tries to play it cool. Especially since to El, this is all they are.

Max stops, turning her chair to Julie and giving her a look that tell her to cut the shit. “That’s not what I meant.”

“I don’t really want to talk about this here.”

She barely wants to talk about it at all. The hatred for herself slowly turning into guilt that churns her stomach each time she looks at El. Knowing that she’s feeling something that she shouldn’t. Almost asking El for something that she can’t give. Wishing that this feeling could go away and they could just go back to being normal friends. Without all this complicated shit.

“That’s fair.” Max resumes rolling down the hallway, stopping in front of her classroom and reaching out to take the bag from Julie. “Your house after school then?”

“You’re not going to let this go, are you?” Julie wishes she would.

“El’s my best friend. Of course I’m not.”

The school day ends, and they go over to her house. She sits next to Max in her room like it’s some interrogation. Waiting for her to be the first to speak. Not wanting to share too much too fast.

“You know, El’s probably going to be pissed when she figures out that we hung out without her,” Max finally breaks the silence.

Julie huffs out a laugh. “Yeah, probably.”

The thing about actually having a crush, Julie realizes, is that it’s so special to have one. Like a little secret that she and only a few other people know. This special little feeling that, at the end of the day, brings her so much joy to have. Even though it’s terrifying. It’s a good terrifying.

“I was really happy when El became friends with you so fast,” Max continues. “I love the guys, but she needed someone else who knew how to take it down a notch. Someone calmer. Someone like you.”

Her lips can’t help but turn into a soft smile. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Max nods. “I think we all needed that too. Life has been crazy the last few years and it’s been nice to have someone to remind us that life doesn’t always have to be tied to that. Especially for El.”

“What do you mean?”

Max takes a deep breath, shifting the pillow behind her. “There’s a lot that I can’t tell you, and there’s stuff that I don’t even really know. None of us do. She wouldn’t tell us all of it. But you know how El is adopted right?”

Julie nods.

“I, uh, don’t know how much of this she wanted me to tell you. Just that she didn’t want to do it herself so bear with me here. Before she was adopted, El was in a really bad home. If that’s what you could even call it. And a lot of really terrible things happened there that none of us like to talk about. She escaped from there one night and eventually got adopted by Hopper.”

Julie remembers that night she stayed at the Byers after they got kicked out of the house. How she told El about the fourth of July when the mall burnt down, and she saw all those people walking to their death. The face El made after she said it. Looking determined as all hell and older than she needed to be. Like a switch in her mind flipped and she was a totally different person than Julie knew her to be.

How horrible her life must have been to take the joy out of her face so fast. To turn defense mode on in a way that made her look like a soldier.

“That’s terrible,” are the only words Julie can think to say.

Max nods, looking down at her hands. “Yeah, it is. This is the same place, same people, that are responsible for a lot of the bad things that happened in this town. They worked at the Hawkins lab.”

“Shit,” Julie sighs, leaning back against her wall.

“Yeah, shit.”

The room fills with silence.

“Why are you telling me all of this now?”

“Because I’ve never seen El open up to a person as fast as she has with you. It took a long time for her to open up to me, and sure there were other things in the way that stopped that, but I’m talking right as we became friends. We were close, but not you guys close.”

Julie can’t imagine Max and El being different from the way they are now. The soft interactions full of a trust that looked so natural. Like they had been friends for a lifetime, fully comfortable around one another.

“And I’m starting to notice, and please tell me if this is out of line, that you might be thinking about El differently than I think about El.”

Julie wonders if this is the time where it isn’t taken well. That someone tells her that this is the worst thing that she could do. Having a crush on a friend could break relationships. She didn’t want to break this one.

“I do,” she finally says to Max. Ready for the berating to start.

Instead, Max nods with resignation. “I think El does too.”

The room starts to buzz as Julie’s heart starts to pick up. “What?”

“She hasn’t, like, told me anything. And she’s probably going to hate me for telling you this at all. But I want to protect her and protect you too and this weird waiting period is really awkward for me, and I’d rather just get to the point where I’m third wheeling.”

“I’m sorry,” Julie interrupts her, still trying to wrap her head around the idea that there’s a possibility that El might like her back. “You think El likes me?”

Max raises her eyebrow. “Have you seen the way she’s been acting around you? Complimenting you every day, clipping your hair back, giggling at literally every joke you say. No offense but that’s a little excessive, your jokes aren’t always that funny.”

Moments start to replay in Julie’s mind. Having been so focused on the way she’s been acting, that she didn’t even notice the way El’s behavior around her changed. How she interacted with Julie just different enough from the rest of the group for it to be significant. For it to be special.

She remembers shrinking in on herself when she knew El was looking at her for longer than she should. Thinking that it was because Julie was making her feel uncomfortable. Never because she could have been doing the same thing Julie has been doing this whole time. Admiring in secret.

“I didn’t notice.”

Max groans. “Of course you didn’t. Neither of you did. It’s like Will and Mike not realizing that they’re into each other. Do you know how frustrating it is to know that your friends like each other but they’re too stupid to do anything about it.”

“Oh my god, you noticed the Will and Mike thing too, I thought that was just me.”

“Don’t try and change the subject. You like El, and I think El likes you. What are you going to do about it?”

Julie winces. “Is nothing an option?”

Max grabs Julie’s arm. “You are driving me crazy. Ask her out or some shit.”

“What if it doesn’t work out?” Julie says, full of fear. “What if I mess up and then I lose all of you guys. I already feel like an outsider sometimes when you guys start talking about the things I don’t know about. I’m the friend that everyone would be ok to lose if this doesn’t work out.”

A few beats pass before Max starts to speak. “Ok, one, you are not the friend that everyone would be ok to lose. You have integrated yourself into the group more than you think you have. Second, you are so focused on a relationship that you haven’t even started yet. Life’s too short to have regret for the steps you didn’t take. Believe me, I know.”

Max wraps her arms around her leg, shifting it to a better position. Inadvertently reminding Julie of the things that have happened the past few years. The events she was just a bystander to, never fully experiencing what happened. When they did, somehow. She still wished she kind of knew.

But maybe Max was right. Maybe Julie could take the risk. Ask El on a date. Hope that it would work out, and that she wouldn’t regret it later. What would she regret more? Asking, or forever wondering how it would have turned out had she not.

. . .

July 1987

The room is blurry as Steve comes into consciousness. The bright lights giving him a headache, and the taste of copper resting on is tongue. His one eye can’t open that well, almost swollen shut. His wrists burn against rope as he twists them. Trying to get them apart.

His good eye blinks, focusing on a pair of black boots in front of him. Raising his head, he meets the scowling face of the Russian officer. Hearing words spoken in a language he doesn’t understand to the other man in the room.

“Ah, he’s awake,” The Russian slurs in English. Stepping forward and looking down at Steve. Menacing.

“Let me go,” Steve begs. “I don’t know anything.”

The officer grabs his hair, pulling his head back to look at him. Steve’s tempted to spit in his face.

“I am only going to ask you this again. Who do you work for?”

Steve can’t help but let out a sad laugh. Knowing he won’t be awake for much longer. “I already told you. I work at Scoops.”

The ringing in his ears starts when his cheek burns. Vision blurring again. He straightens his head, panting to try and get the air back into his lungs. Only for it to leave as the officer hits him again. Always the right side of his head. It hurts so much it’s almost numb.

“No, no, no,” Steve pleads as the officer winds up again. Blood pooling in his mouth with the next collision. He spits on the group. “I work at Scoops,” he screams with as much breath he can muster.

The world goes dark again.

Steve wakes with a scream. The surroundings not matching that of his cell. A weight around his torso preventing him from getting up. He rips the blankets off of him, pulling the weight off and throwing it away. Cursing as his feet can’t kick off the sheets. Can’t get free.

Tears are streaming down his face as he struggles. His hands free. The rope burn stinging his skin. His torso itches like crazy. Like small little bites stabbing into his skin. He needs to find Robin. Needs to see if she’s ok.

“Steve,” a voice says to him. How do they know his same? Did he tell it to them? What are they going to do to him now.

He still struggles with the blanket, finally pulling his feet free. Attempting to get off the bed and search for anything as a weapon. This place isn’t the cell he was in before. They must have moved him when he was knocked out.

“Steve,” the voice says again. Sitting up on the bed and starting to move towards him.

Steve flinches from the touch, raising his fists. Ready to strike them first this time. His heart is beating in his ears, the constant ringing in his right only amplified. Adrenaline pumping through his veins.

He needs to get out of here.

A light clicks on. Illuminating the room he’s in. It doesn’t look like a cell. It looks like a bedroom. Have they constructed this just to give him a false sense of security?”

“It was just a dream, Steve.” The man gets out of the bed, taking a cautious step towards Steve. Hands outstretched to block any punches Steve might throw.

Steve wasn’t the threat here. He was just trying to protect himself.

“Can you tell me three things you notice about this room?” The man cautiously spins them around, clicking on another lamp in the room.

The bare walls reflect the light, the soft yellow so different from the blaring white. The walls a tan instead of white or grey. It looks so familiar, but Steve’s mind is so confused. The tears continue to stream down his face as he tries to figure out where he is.

“I work at Scoops,” Steve stutters.

“I know you do.” The man replies quickly. “I believe you.”

More tears. Steve’s hands lower. They know now. Does that mean he’s free to go?

“Tell me three things you see,” he repeats. So soft it makes Steve want to crumble.

“A bed,” he whispers. “A nightstand. A lamp.”

The man takes another step forward. Coming into more clarity. Brown curls fall onto his shoulders. He looks nothing like the Russians.

“Good. Anything else?”

“There’s a picture on the nightstand. The bed has blue sheets. There’s a poster on the wall.”

Eddie places a gentle hand on Steve’s shoulder, he flinches before leaning into it. Closing his eyes and trying to focus on the touch. Letting it ground him.

There’s a knock on the door. Steve’s eyes fly open again as he whips his head to look. Heartbeat increasing again.

“Take a seat, sweetheart, I’ll get it.”

Steve freezes, unable to move. He’s directed toward the bed, somehow, he sits down. Knuckles clenched into white.

“Are you guys ok,” he hears a soft voice say. “I heard screaming.”

Eddie doesn’t open the door more than a small crack. “Yeah, we’re fine. I got this, you can go back to bed.”

The door shuts with a small click. Eddie returning to Steve. Sits next to him as the adrenaline fades. Leaving his body exhausted and his mind still searching for explanations.

“Can you tell me what year it is, Steve?”

He shakes his head.

“It’s July second, 1987. You survived them, Steve. Everyone did.”

A sob escapes his throat. His body collapsing into himself. Curling up as the energy releases. He’s wrapped into a hug and pulled further into the bed. Being protected while he falls apart.

Steve wakes up again a few hours later. Gets out of bed and into a routine. Takes a shower, gets dressed, makes himself breakfast. Goes through the motions of a normal morning.

The front door closes quietly. Eddie and Robin coming into the house. Sitting with Steve at the table.

“I took Julie to school, that’s why I wasn’t here,” Eddie explains. “I told Robin what happened.”

Robin looks down at the table, biting at her lip. “Tomorrow marks two year since-.”

Steve looks at his coffee. “Yeah, I know.”

“I can’t believe it’s been that long. It feels so close yet a lifetime away.”

“It was like I was back there. Even when I woke up.” Steve takes a deep breath. “I thought it was going to be better this year.”

Robin’s hand finds his, her fingers shaking. “Me too.”

They find themselves curled up on the couch for the rest of the day. Eddie there just to make sure they’re both ok. The house quiet except for the low volume on the tv. Lights off so they don’t flicker. Robin’s fingers pressed into Steve’s wrist to feel his pulse. His arm holding her close, proving that she’s there.

They made it out of there. They’re both alive. He wishes that their minds would stop trying to tell them otherwise.

. . .

Julie walks into a dark house. Steve and Robin asleep on the couch with Eddie awkwardly sitting next to them. Looking out of place. She wants to ask about what she heard last night. How she heard the screams from across the hall.

Eddie gets up when he notices her. Motions for her to meet him in Steve’s bedroom. Shuts the door gently behind them before turning on the light.

“You probably have a few questions about last night.”

Julie nods. “Is he ok?”

Eddie runs a hand down his face. “Physically, yeah, he’s fine. But other than that, he will be. This week is an anniversary of something for him. He was reminded of that last night.”

“The mall fire,” Julie fills in. “I know that they were there that night.”

“Do you know why?”

Julie shakes her head. No one would tell her more when she asked.

Eddie nods, crossing his arms and swaying on the balls of his feet. “I’m not sure if I’m allowed to tell you what happened. I don’t even know the full of it.”

She thought Steve told him everything. “It was bad, wasn’t it?”

“Yes. It’s the reason Steve can’t hear well in his right ear anymore. And the reason he gets really bad PTSD attacks. Like the one he had last night.”

“And that’s why,” she tilts her head to the door. Knowing that Steve and Robin tangled together in the living room.

“She was there too.” Eddie looks at the door. Pain painting his face. “A part of me wishes I knew what really happened to them so I could help. But they already relive this pain more than they should, they don’t need to do it again just to fill me in.”

Julie pauses before asking the question that’s been on her mind since the first time she heard screams through the walls. Wonders if there’s a part of her that really wants to know. Or if this is just morbid curiosity. But there were memories of her own that haunt her. Placing her back into moments of her life with things left unexplained.

She cares about these people. It hurts to know that they are in pain. And if she could help, know how to help them through the panic or PTSD attacks, she thinks it’s important enough to know.

“Do you think you could tell me what you know,” she asks softly. “Or at least what you do to help calm him down. I think it would be good for me to be prepared in case it happens and you or Robin aren’t here.”

Eddie presses his lips together. “I’ll do the second one, not the first. As much as he doesn’t want to talk about it, it’s not my story to tell.”

“That’s fair.”

Eddie tells her what he does to calm Steve down when it gets really bad. How with the panic attacks, it’s good to count with him while he breaths. And if he’s willing, grab his hands to help ground him. Tell him about what’s in the room. How it’s different than the pictures in his mind. More things kind of all based on that.

Julie takes it all in, making a mental list in her mind, hoping she doesn’t forget it. Hoping that if it ever happens, she won’t mess it up. Saddened by the fact that this is Steve’s reality.

. . .

A few days pass since Steve’s reality morphed with his nightmares. The date crossed out on his calendar far enough away that it’s finally starting to sink in. Steve made it out of there two years ago. Yet it still affects him like it was yesterday.

Just like back then, life moves on. He goes to work and comes home. Gets weird thinking of the future, and what that means for him. How each milestone will pass, the anniversary of dates coming and going. Affecting him in more ways than he realizes. Until he’s waking in a cold sweat and his body is transported back into his past selves. Some fucked up time travel.

His mind stays fixated on that night. How long it took for his brain to recognize Eddie’s face. To differentiate the safety of his home with the danger of his interrogation cell. How dangerous it could have been.

Eddie told him that Julie has asked about it. How he didn’t say anything, but did tell her ways to help him through an attack. It’s something he never thought of before. Out of all the possibilities that run through his mind, the thought of her being present for one of the attacks never crossed. He never thought she would be there for one of them.

But she almost was. If Eddie hadn’t been there, it would have been Steve opening the door. He didn’t want her to see him like that. He didn’t want the monsters in his head to meld her into something she wasn’t.

She wasn’t a part of this life, he wanted to keep it that way. But Steve has never really gotten what he wished for. It was time to tell her the parts he could.

No one wants to hear about the truth. They don’t want to know the dangers that rest beneath their feet. Blissfully ignorant and wanting to stay that way. Ignorance, however, can hurt sometimes. He didn’t want it to hurt her.

When Julie gets home from school, Steve asks her to sit in the kitchen. Takes the seat across from her and starts to lay out everything. How this conversation can’t leave the room, and she’s never to let anyone know that he told her this.

“This is about Starcourt, isn’t it?” She asks somewhere in the middle of his warnings. “Why all those people walked straight to their death.”

“How did you know about that?” Steve knew that people must have seen it, but it was kept out of the news.

Julie tells him about the night she went looking for her mom. How she got caught in the crowd of people walking toward the mall. Saw the names of people she knew flicker on the tv screen the next morning.

Steve tells her more than he should. About how Will going missing five years ago was a catalyst to so much more. How he got roped into everything. Skipping the bit in the middle for the most part, focusing on how Max came into it all. Then gets to the Russians.

Tells her the story of an innocent mystery turned terrifying nightmare. The interrogation that thankfully didn’t end in his death. Fireworks that crashed into the monster the size of a building and crashing a car into a possessed maniac. All of it ending in burning red, leaving the survivors to cope with their loss.

She’s taking it better than he thought she would. And he hasn’t even said everything yet. Just barely gets to spring break before Julie is pulling him into a hug. Until he realizes the wetness of his cheeks.

“I’m so sorry,” she chokes. “I am so sorry you had to live through that.”

He doesn’t finish telling her everything. It’s probably a good thing. The NDA’s aren’t as loose as the ones from a few years ago. And it’s better for her to process this and maybe learn the rest later. If she wants to. If he wants to explain it all again.

. . .

“Alright, now turn on the blinker and slowly hit the gas again,” Steve instructs as Julie sits at a stop sign. No one else around.

It’s been a few weeks since she’s started learning how to drive. Slowly easing into it in random parking lots while no one is there. Learning where all the signals were, and basic traffic laws. Most of it was review, but she didn’t mind the practice.

She pushes on the gas, jerking the car into motion. Pulling away from the parking lot and onto the street. For the first time. Julie is driving on the road.

“Ok, good. Just try not to hit the gas so hard next time.”

Steve’s been an ok teacher. Patient for the most part but gets frustrated when he can’t explain something properly. But he hasn’t gotten angry at her yet. Carefully corrects her but makes sure she knows that she’s doing ok. That she’s starting to get this right.

Julie pulses the gas. Learning how to keep the speed of the road. Overcorrecting when she gets too close to the yellow lines. The overcorrecting again when she gets close to tree line.

It’s scary driving something so large. So powerful. Hearing how the engine revs each time she pushes her foot down too hard. Feeling the pull of the seatbelt against her chest as she hits the breaks too fast.

But she’s getting it. Adjusting herself as she gets used to the feel of the petals beneath her feet. Loosens her body as she gets more comfortable gripping the steering wheel. As she gets used to the size of the car and the way it moves.

“Great. You’re doing really great, Julie. How about we turn here and-.”

A deer jumps in front of the car.

Julie slams on the breaks as she swerves close to the trees. The car coming mere inches from the trunk. Her arms shaking as they grip the wheel.

It all can happen so fast.

Steve unbuckles his seatbelt, turning towards her. “Julie, take a breath ok.”

One wrong move and the hood of the car would be curved around the tree. The airbag would be in her face.

“Just take a breath, we’re ok.”

What if her foot had slipped as she pushed down on the breaks? What if her hands fumbled the turn? Would the deer have contacted the car? Would she have killed it?

“You followed your instincts. We’re ok. That’s all that matters. We’re ok.”

Was this what it was like right before her mom’s crash? Did a deer just jump in front of the car? Her foot missing the break as she slammed into a tree. As it crashes just right to take her life. Was this mistake so easy to make that Julie almost made it too?

“Julie,” Steve touches her shoulder, comforting her. “It’s ok. Take all the time you need.”

Julie unbuckles her seatbelt and bolts out of the car. Runs to the wood as bile stings her tongue. Let’s the adrenaline out onto the dirt as she crashes. As the air escapes from her lungs.

Steve’s beside her rubbing her back. Saying something but it doesn’t register. Too stuck in her head to think of anything else.

“I’m sorry,” slips out of her mouth. Not sure of what else to say.

“Don’t be. It was just an accident, it happens all the time.”

Tears start to make their way out of her eyes. “But I didn’t see it. I could’ve. I could’ve crashed the car. Or worse and.” Sharp, shaky breaths interrupt her sentences.

Steve turns her to look at him. “Julie, hey. Look at me.” She does. “Take a deep breath, ok.”

He counts as she forces herself to breath in. She holds it, feeling the beat of her heart in her lungs. Releases it. Does it again.

“I didn’t see the deer either,” Steve admits once she calms down a little. “Something must have scared it, and it ran into the road. And you did a good job avoiding it.”

She doesn’t feel like it was a good job. “It all happened so fast.”

The tears continue to stream down her face. The feeling of the break pressed into the bottom of her foot. Throbbing. Her shoulder stinging from the pull of the seatbelt. The feeling of it all finally registering.

Her forehead hurts. Something is dripping down in between her eyes. She reaches up and swipes away blood. The buzz coming back to her veins.

“Fuck,” she mutters, eyes glued to her hand.

Steve gets up and comes back with a small first aid kit. Wiping away the blood with some napkins and pressing them against her forehead. Waiting for the bleeding to stop.

She doesn’t even remember her head hitting the steering wheel.

They sit in silence while Steve cleans the cut. Julie wincing when the alcohol wipe hits her broken skin. Steve finds a small piece of gauze and tapes it to her forehead. Packing up the first aid kit and returning to just sitting next to her.

“We’ll sit here as long as you want to, then I’ll drive us home,” he says.

Drive. Julie doesn’t know how she can sit in the car again. Knowing how easy it is for it all to fail.

“It all happened so fast,” she says again. Fixated on it.

“Yeah, yeah it did.” Steve’s trying to stay strong but she can see the shock in his actions too.

“Was it that fast when,” a lump forms in her throat. “When she? When my mom?”

Steve realizes what she’s talking about, starting to open and close his mouth. Trying to find something to say.

“I,” he starts. “I don’t know.”

“That’s all I could think about.” She looks at him. “All I can think about is how I could almost have died just like her. One wrong move and I-. And we-.”

Steve grabs her arms, looking her dead in the eyes. “Hey,” he says softly. “It’s ok. Whatever could have happened, it doesn’t matter right now. What matters is that we’re here, and we’re safe. You got shocked and followed your instincts. And because of that, we’re both ok.”

Ok normally doesn’t feel like this. But she tries, really tries to listen to his words.

“I know none of this is going to stop the what ifs in your mind. Believe me, I know. But those what ifs are not going to change what happened. It’s important to remember that.”

She knows he’s right. But it’s so hard to keep her mind on track. Letting it off rail to the ends of possibilities. Wondering if there was ever one where there was never an almost crash to begin with.

“Let’s go home. Get an icepack on that head and make sure it’s ok before you go to sleep. Ok?”

Slowly, Julie nods. “Ok.”

She gets in the car. Buckling the seat belt and tugging it to make sure it locked. Steve gets in the driver’s seat and readjusts it and the mirrors before slowly pulling away. The almost accident fading as she stares in the sideview mirror.

It was just an accident. It can happen to anyone. It just had to happen to her.

Tag list(let me know if you want to be added or removed): @homoerotictangerine, @mugloversonly, @thesuninyaface, @imyelenasexual, @anaibis,

@ilovecupcakesandtea, @brainsteddielyrotted, @jackiemonroe5512, @eddie-munsons-missing-nipple, @goodolefashionedloverboi,

@cinnamon-mushroomabomination, @lolawonsstuff, @writingandmushroomdragons, @stevesbipanic, @sierra-violet,

@steddie-as-they-go, @dauntlessdiva, @mousedetective, @the-daydreamer-in-the-corner, @zombiethingy,

@connected-dots-st-reblogger, @that-agender-from-pluto, @allyricas, @cheddartreets, @devondespresso,

@crypticcorvidinacottage, @queenie-ofthe-void @chronicpainstevetruther, @melonmochi

[gettothestabbing]

Friendship issues

So I impulsively bought concert tickets for an older band I like a few months ago. And I say tickets plural because I thought, hey, this concert is in a city my old acquaintance X, who I recently started talking to regularly, lives in. I should invite him! It would be fun to get together and I feel like treating someone to something. So I did. He liked the idea and said yes.

Today I got a strong feeling that I should remind him of the date now that it’s only a month away. He quickly responds, “Oh, I won’t be back from my trip then, sorry.”

I know, from our conversations, that his trip details weren’t finalized until after I had invited him to this concert. I’ve never been to a live concert before, so I don’t know if my tickets are relatively cheap or not, but to me, it was a significant amount to pay. We hadn’t seen each other in person in some time. And it’s not some conflict with a significant other, since neither of us have one.

I told him that his forgetting hurt my feelings, he wrote me a carefully worded apology (which also implied that I had been told his trip details weren’t finalized at the time), and I accepted it. But I almost wish I hadn’t. It feels like, when someone is making an effort to apologize to you, you should accept it most of the time. It’s not that he didn’t apologize properly. The format was correct. But from the careless way he actually treated this invitation, and his failure to tell me on his own (having to be prompted) that he couldn’t make it, I don’t think he really sees this as important. And I feel like now that I have accepted this apology, there’s almost no way to express my continuing sense of hurt without coming across as unreasonable or as holding a grudge.

Blah blah blah, girls overanalyze and boys are straightforward. That’s kind of why I still feel hurt. I thought that this person respected me and my time, at least enough to give me a heads up if plans changed. And clearly, that’s just not the case. I had been looking forward to this, for a lot of reasons, and he didn’t even try to schedule his trip around it. I know the nature of the trip and it wouldn’t have been that difficult. So he just forgot it completely, didn’t even write it down. Wow.

(And honestly, I used to have a crush on this guy in college. Since we’re both single, and he is a rare unicorn who shares both my political and religious beliefs, I hoped to form a deeper connection. But obviously he doesn’t even think highly of me as a friend, despite our having talked almost daily for almost 6 months.)

I’m really tired and sad thinking about this pattern of friendships where I’m emotionally invested and the other person appears to be too, until they decide to just stop pretending and drop me. I had a friend I talked with regularly and had worked with. The moment she found out (how, I don’t know) that we voted differently, she spent multiple days messaging me long, condescending things trying to change my mind in time for the 2020 election before ceasing to speak to me altogether. She couldn’t put this one difference between us aside for a multi-year friendship.

Several times when I worked in New Jersey, I would befriend staff members that were close to my age. We had fun together, and I helped them drive to things or figure out American stuff if they were on a visa here. But often, after I would do something big for them (helping pick out a wedding dress, taking care of their pet, etc.), they would thank me and then just stop talking to me almost at all. They found my most useful point of existence for their life and decided that it wasn’t worth the time investing in a relationship with me anymore.

Not every adult friendship has been like this. But a fairly large portion of them have. It is hard to predict which relationships I invest in will continue for a long time and which will abruptly fall off a cliff.

[purplesurveys]

1658

Are you Guilty or Innocent of these things?

[A/N: Bold means guilty, no bold means innocent, italicized means ehhhhh sometimes I’ll be guilty of this but sometimes not.]

Liking pineapples on pizza I hate pineapple in general so they never go on my pizza. I’m also personally not a fan of the whole pineapples-on-pizza thing but if I see other people preferring them then it’s whatever.

Not drinking enough water I do skip water the whole day then drink a whole bunch of it in the evening, which isn’t the healthiest habit. At night I can probably reach 5-6 glasses.

Calling sick a lot at work Like, using up my sick leave credits? I rarely do so if it wasn’t a legit situation. Generally I also just rarely take leaves as it’s hard to get behind in such a fast-paced industry.

Leaving the dishes to "soak" in the sink a little too long It used to be a habit but not anymore. I hate leaving stuff out for too long and it makes me feel more at ease the sooner I clean up after myself.

Putting things off until last minute Yeah pretty much in all aspects where this is relevant. The only time I’d say I’m not guilty of this is at work because I’m super rigid with deadlines.

Not being able to keep a secret Depends. I’m mostly innocent and can keep a secret but there are exceptions where I can’t help but tell Angela. Making plans and canceling This was sometimes me in college, which I know is SUCH a shitty behavior; but I don’t do this anymore. I’ve experienced people canceling on me hours before said plan and I hate it so I avoid doing it at all costs.

Making impulse buys Yeah...hate this habit. Like I’m always 97% likely to buy something on impulse if I feel like I have extra money on me. A couple of months ago I got a bracelet I knew I was gonna lose in like two weeks anyway (I really did lose it eventually).

Having trouble saying no to others Yup, ESFJ struggles hah. I have a desperate need to please others all the time even if it comes at the expense of my own convenience.

Over spending Very guilty but I’m actively trying to address it now. I haven’t spent on anything in nearly a month, especially after I had to shell out 12 grand for my dog bite vaccinations.

Gambling I have never gambled and will never consider doing so.

Stealing something I’ve stolen an abandoned pen here and there in school, but it’s never gotten anything bigger or more serious than that.

Singing in the shower I’ll occasionally hum extremely softly but I’ve never broken out into song.

Sleeping naked I’ve done it a few times with a partner but I wouldn’t do it on my own.

Making New Years resolutions you can never keep I never make resolutions in the first place.

Being arrested I’ve never been arrested. Pulled over and gotten a ticket, sure; but not arrested.

Not studying before taking tests Might be the Asian in me but that just feels so wrong, lol. I always skimmed over my notes one way or another for every single exam or quiz.

Making up fake reasons to get out of plans with someone Not anymore but I did this a handful of times in college back when I had a partner and wanted to hang out with them instead (ew), or when I’d suddenly get hit with a wave of social anxiety.

Googling your symptoms Well, yeah. I kinda do that for every single inconvenience I experience with my body hahaha.

Peeing in the woods Have never done that.

Regifting a Christmas gift you didn't like Not guilty and would never consider doing this. I always get plagued with thoughts of how the gifter would feel if they found out.

Locking your car keys in the car You know what? Considering how clumsy and forgetful I can be all the time, it’s a miracle this hasn’t happened hahaha.

Road rage Ugh very guilty, especially in college. I know it’s not an excuse but Metro Manila traffic can be extremely frustrating, guys. Couple that with the fact that Filipinos are generally super inconsiderate and unpredictable on the road, and it all makes out to give you just a very stressful experience altogether.

Buying more books even though you have books you havent even started yet I don’t do this with books but have occasionally done this with notebooks in high school.

Wearing pajamas out in public Innocent. I did bring my BTS pajamas for the theatrical premiere of Yet to Come Busan but ultimately didn’t change into them because I got too shy and was afraid that people were going to judge me for wearing pajamas in public haha.

Breaking something and then lying about it For sure, especially when I was younger.

Ignoring phone calls and watching the call until it stops ringing Guilty but I don’t feel guilty about it. Message me first, you rude weirdo.

Petting every dog or cat you see As tempting as it can be, it’s potentially dangerous, so mostly innocent. For pets I’d typically just wave at the dog, then for stray aspins I would pet and interact if they seemed accustomed enough to people.

Cheating at a board game Eh, innocent. I don’t like playing board games anyway.

Dropping an ice cube and kicking it under the fridge I know it melts and evaporates and all but am innocent, that just seems so gross to me hahaha who knows the gunk that hangs out underneath the fridge...if I drop an ice cube I just drop in the sink and let it melt there.

Lying about your age Guilty, once. I wanted to try my first margarita, so I ordered one at 17. The waitress could immediately tell I was a minor though and I was shot down when I couldn’t provide an ID.

Watching cartoons as an adult Guilty, but again I don’t feel guilty about it haha. I literally watched a few Spongebob episodes with my sister yesterday.

Sneaking your own snacks into the movie theater Bringing in your own food in the cinemas here in the Philippines is allowed; you don’t need to sneak anything in.

Littering Innocent. I don’t get what’s so hard about putting your trash in your pocket or bag first.

Cutting your own hair Innocent, that’d be a recipe for disaster if I were ever to do it myself.

Looking for your phone when it's in your hand It’s definitely happened more than once; with my glasses, too.

Folding laundry but never putting it away LOL yeah. Why can I never manage to put it back in my closet? :((

Blocking people you dislike on social media Guilty but unbothered. I get annoyed fairly easily and a block is the quickest and most satisfying way to deal with people.

Giving someone a fake phone number Was never stuck in a situation where I had to do so.

Buying clothing that you never wear Yeah, guilty. It’s always the clothes that looked good on the mannequin but didn’t end up suiting me.

Putting a christmas tree up before thanksgiving Not relevant to me; I don’t celebrate Thanksgiving. My family does put up our Christmas tree in October, but that’s because that’s the practice here in the Philippines. You’d be the weird household if you only put Christmas stuff up literally in December hahaha.

Spending hours on TikTok watching videos TikTok edits are cringey for the most part, but I can spend hours going through IG Reels since the videos there are more straightforward.

[inriospocket]

Your Rio stories are so good and make my day!! Would you be up to write another one please? I was thinking he and reader used to date, but she left him because he never shared anything about himself. He was it for her and vice versa. They run into each other some time later and Rio thinks he can get her back with being his cocky self, but it doesn’t work. One night he invites himself to her home while she’s taking a bath. He joins her and starts telling her about himself and just lots of fluffy loving (and smut afterward if you feel like it?). I could use some fluffy loving please 🥺. Thank you!! ❤️

Always up to it! I hope you're doing okay ❤

word count ♡ 1,253

summary ♡ Rio tries to win reader back with his cockiness after running into each other but realizes later that he has to win her back with honesty.

situation ♡ fluffy/smutty

-

“Oh, damnit!” You cursed, picking up the folded ticket from your windshield. You were parked there barely for 10 minutes trying to pick some coffee up from the nearby shop.

You heard a light snicker from behind you. “You still haven’t learned.”

You turned around recognizing the voice. It had been 3 months and 16 days since you last saw your ex but you weren’t counting was what you always told yourself.

You knew you could never escape him but you also didn’t think you would just see him on a whim.

“Folding a piece of paper and sticking it on my own windshield is not going to work.” You folded your arms.

“Always worked for me.” He smirked. You gave him a slight smile, unsure of what to say next.

“How you been?” He asked. You stuck the ticket in your purse before answering him.

“Just fine. I should be going.” You said, reaching for the handle to your door.

“Hey, maybe we can catch up some time.” He said which stopped you.

You narrowed your eyebrows at him. “So you can always give me a vague explanation of what goes on in your life? Sorry, I’m a bit bored of that.” You said and opened your car door.

“Oh come on, mama. You never could say no.” He pushed.

You shook your head and sighed. “Well now I am.” You said and closed your door. He always made you weak from the moment you met him but you didn’t want to keep wasting your time here.

You barely knew him when you were dating and as much as you loved him from what you did know, it just wasn’t enough. You were always so open and honest and he gave you nothing in return.

And as much as you wanted to say you no longer loved him, you couldn’t. Even when you broke up, you knew in a way that it wasn’t over because your heart still belonged to him and vice versa.

After a long day, you just wanted to disappear but instead you settled for the bath tub. You played with the bubbles on your hands, your thoughts never straying from Rio.

You almost felt like you manifested him when you looked over at your ringing cellphone. You deleted his contact months ago but you always knew his number by heart.

You hesitated for a moment but you quickly dried your hands off and picked up the phone.

“Hello?” You answered.

“Can I come over?” He asked. You hesitated again, wondering if this could possibly go any further but you already made up your mind.

“...sure” you said.

Once Rio got there you had already left the front door unlocked for him. He walked in, following the light coming from your room and then to the bathroom.

He was hesitant in opening the door, knowing how vulnerable he was going to have to be but the thought of you with him again pushed the door open.

You had your knees to your chest, the bubbles covering your intimate areas. You watched him sit at the edge of the tub and you could see how hard it was for him to start to tell you more about him.

A part of you wondered if he ever had the chance. Or if anyone ever tried to listen.

“It’s okay.” You reassured him.

He took a deep breath, realizing it was a safe space and he could finally talk about all of his underlying feelings.

“It’s easier,” He started to say, playing with the rings on his fingers.

“What?” You asked.

“To be the bad guy. You never expect anything from them.” He said, thinking about how his “cousin” Nick who had it all and no one realized he was the bad guy all along.

You were going to say something but you wanted him to keep talking and he did. He told you about Nick, his love for his grandma, where his parents were, everything.

“I went to prison. He went to college.” He shook his head.

“You’re still a better man.” You told him truthfully.

“Nah, I ain’t trying to be better.” He said, pursing his lips. You knew what he meant. Rio was a reoccurring factor in Nick’s life. Someone to blame. He wasn’t trying to be better like he said, but he did want to be seen.

He turned to you and you could see the seriousness in his stare. “There are still things I can’t tell you about and I don’t want you to ask. If anything were to happen...” He said.

“It’s okay. I know.” You reassured him once more.

His eyes became softer and he reached to run his thumb across your cheek lovingly.

You smiled, happy that you finally got to feel his touch again.

“Can you pass me my towel?” You asked as it sat next to him. He grabbed it and handed it to you but instead of taking it you, you pulled his arm until he fell into the tub with you.

“Y/N!” He couldn’t help but laugh at how soaking wet his clothes were.

You watched the water rush over the tub onto the floor but you didn’t care. “I missed your laugh.” You said, watching him maneuver to sit across from you.

“Shut up.” He said jokingly as he splashed you. He looked down at your chest, noticing there was no longer any bubbles covering you.

“Come here.” He said and you could see the familiar look in his eyes. You moved closer to his end of the tub until you were close enough.

He let his hand rest on your neck as he guided your head to his.

He glanced at your lips first, remembering how much he missed their softness on his skin. He knew he didn’t want this to be just another memory. He wanted to be able to feel you every day.

He finally kissed you. His demeanor was so cold on the outside but you loved that just for you, he could show you how much he was capable of loving. Capable of feeling.

He shifted your legs so you could be straddling him and pulled away from your lips so he could see your entirety.

You felt yourself getting wetter, the way his hands slowly felt your body.

Your collarbones, your breasts, your waist, until they reached your inner thighs.

You let out a soft moan once you finally felt his finger on your clit. He took his time, rubbing small circles before he finally entered a finger in you.

You squirmed a bit when he curled it upwards to enhance the pleasure. You grabbed his wrist to stop him.

“I want you in me.” You whispered close to his ear. Bathtub sex would be a first for you but you wouldn’t want to experience it with anyone different.

He didn’t waste any time unbuttoning his soaked pants and pulling himself out.

Your entrance lined up perfectly with him and he helped you rest comfortably on top with both of you sharing a moan.

He took his time moving in and out of you. You both had your fair share of fucking but this time he made love to you. Wrapping his arms around your waist and holding you close.

You never felt so loved. He peppered kisses from your neck to your chest, guiding your hips into him and loving the sounds it made you make.

“I’m never letting you go, mama.”

[neoheros]

moving in — seijoh 4 x gn! reader

it’s been exactly two weeks since you’ve made the decision of moving in with your best friends, and so far, everything’s been a bit better than you expected.

when the idea was first pitched to you, you admit, you thought it was a very poorly written out joke shared over a few beers and the pitiful nostalgia of graduating— you were wrong.

they were alarmingly serious about this.

“just a few months ‘til we all head off for college.” hanamaki told you, his arm casually over your shoulder and you’ve known him long enough to know that pushing him off is futile.

“then do it without me.” you said, a lazy smile on your face as you continued to walk. “i’ll visit literally every day.”

“no, you won’t,” matsukawa said, his words laced with a soft chuckle, “you don’t ever go anywhere without being physically dragged off.”

“you don’t understand,” you smiled, “i have such a lovely room.”

iwaizumi fell next to you, his voice blunt, “you can have the biggest room.”

“that’s not entirely better.” you shrugged.

“at least think about it,” oikawa told you, his charming smile coating his tone and you found a bit of warmth in the reserved gaze you realize he only had for you, “for me.”

“as if that’s the selling point, shittykawa!”

“i am always the selling point, iwa-chan!”

you ignored their usual banter, moving away from the four as you quickened your steps and you sighed. “i’ll think about it.”

you don’t miss the shared grins they all give each other, knowing you well enough to understand that they’ve successfully wore you down and before you knew it, you were signing a lease to a four bedroom loft that you were lucky enough to afford.

it didn’t feel weird or anything, you’ve known these guys since forever and more, really the only problem you’ve had with this was the fact that you knew how much of a slob they’d all be to live with — not that you were any better — but hey, surely you were neater than four sweaty athletes.

which brings you to where you are now; just a few weeks after graduating from aoba johsai and barely even a few days since getting comfortable in your new temporary apartment.

you figured it was better than you expected.

hanamaki’s nice to keep around. he’s almost always just lounging in front of the tv, sometimes a controller in his hands, most of the time, his fingers running through his short trimmed hair as he shifts over numerous college application essays.

you’ve found yourself waking up at three am a few times to get yourself a cup of water only to see him to have fallen asleep on the coffee table with folders and envelopes around him.

sometimes you’d sit with him, sometimes you’d wake him up to help him trudge to his bed. either way, he’d always end up pulling your head close, giving you a quick kiss on the temple as he sleepily mumbles something along the lines of “thank you” or “good night”.

iwaizumi’s somewhat the same; buried in college prep and sorting through plane tickets as he made the ever so impressive decision to take his future abroad. you’d told him numerous times how proud he made you and he’d always give you back the warm grin he seemed to have reserved just for you.

he isn’t the last one you see off to bed, but he’s always the first to get up in the morning. no matter what time you wake up, he’s already there in the kitchen brewing a pot of coffee (much to your dismay since his blend is a tad bit bitter to your liking but you’ve never had the heart to tell him that).

(though truth be told, ever since iwaizumi found out you woke up at the crack of dawn, he’d begrudgingly fallen into the habit of waking up before you just so he could make you coffee before seeing you off for the day.

he hates waking up that early.

but he does like the smile you give him when you walk out the door.)

you spend the most time with matsukawa. his schedule was freer than the rest of the boys so if you ever needed to go anywhere, he’d already be there to insist that he came with you.

he’d pick you up from your day job, a lazy grin encasing his face the minute he sees you from the car window— you looked tired, worn out from the ruthless retail, and though he couldn’t say that to your face, he sure is glad he’d have an excuse to take you for coffee before heading home.

oikawa’s the busiest. his taxing schedule now so much worse after his decision to go to argentina. (you told him you’d miss him, he told you you didn’t have to, and begged you to try and fit in his luggage.) all that aside, you barely got to see him; you’d wake up finding him already gone for the day, and come home to him passed out on the couch.

some nights he’d come home later than you, too tired to know which is left or right, and more than once, he’d end up in your room, clocking out the second he crashes on your bed.

you don’t push him off, you never had the heart to. you missed him. not that you’d ever say it to his face, but he hasn’t even left for college and you were already missing him.

it’s a sunday morning— one of the few times a week all of you had a free day, and normally you’d all just end up sleeping in, most days you’d get up and enjoy breakfast with the other four, but when the bed felt too warm and too peaceful, you’d rather just waste the day away in your room.

a pair of arms pull you out of your sleep, your head softly falling against someone’s chest and you blink— you went to bed alone last night.

“what the hell, shittykawa!” you yell, sitting up and pushing him off of you.

oikawa groans, having just been brutally woken up, he pouts, “... you spend too much time with iwa-chan, you sound exactly like him.”

“go sleep in your own room!”

“but — you have the softest bed!”

“no?” matsukawa says, leaning on your door frame looking like he’d just woken up. his voice is groggy, almost annoyed, “i have the softest bed.”

oikawa pushes you away, ignoring your groans as he laid back on your mattress and he says, smile wide, “that’s not true— feel this.”

matsukawa narrows his eyes, walking up to him without even acknowledging your constant complaints of ‘no! do not feel this, go away!’

he sits on the edge of your bed, taking a second before falling on his back and taking in your white comforters.

“what the fuck?” he says, “what the hell, why do you have the softest bed?”

“because i’m me.” you tell them both, rolling your eyes as you realize that you probably won’t be getting your bed back anytime soon.

hanamaki walks in barely a moment later, his hand tiredly rubbing his left eye as he yawns away the last of his sleep.

he blinks, unsure what to make out of the scene in front of him. matsukawa and oikawa pulled on your duvet, pushing each other off every second as they fought on who got a bigger part of the blanket, and you, well — you had your head propped up on your headboard, muttering under your breath as you tried to push the two off your mattress.

“what’s going on?” he asks, a smile already forming on his face as he recognized the early morning chatter.

you look up, eyes brightening at the sight of hanamaki, he was going to help you.

“makki! my love!” you yelped, “get them out of my room, please.”

“no. makki will not.” matsukawa grins, “did you know this is the softest bed in the apartment?”

hanamaki frowns, “i have the softest bed in the apartment.”

oikawa grins, “feel this!”

you take it back. oikawa tooru might not make it to argentina after all, not when you were going to kill him in cold blood after this.

before you could even protest, oikawa pushes you more to the side, clearing some space for hanamaki who (so traitorously) plopped down on his side beside you.

“what the fuck,” he says, eyes widening as he moved around for a more comfortable position.

matsukawa nods, “that’s what i said too.”

“why do you have the softest bed?” oikawa groans, “we’re the ones who play volleyball— we’re basically sore all the time.”

you blink, “i was sleeping.”

they ignore you.

“you want the bed?” you ask, getting up from your mattress, and you glare. “fine. keep it.”

“wait, we were just joki—”

you ignore what they were going to say, slamming your door on your way out, and you curse under your breath every step of the way to the room right across from yours.

iwaizumi’s room. somewhere cold, peaceful, quiet. you ought to remind him to keep his door locked, but right now, as you stood by his doorway, drowsy and almost desperate to go back to sleep, you’re thankful he doesn’t.

you don’t say another word, walking directly up to his bedside and plopping down on the open space next to him.

he stirs, and you take his movement with a sigh.

“move.” you tell him, a pillow in hand and he looks up at you with sleep plastered on his face.

iwaizumi does as you say, moving deeper into his side and he yawns, “what’re you doing?”

“we are going to sleep.” you tell him, snuggling deeper in his covers as you got yourself comfortable.

you look at him, “unless you want to join those three idiots outside.”

iwaizumi ignores the warmth coming up on his face, pushing his pulsing heart aside, he shrugs, throwing an arm over you, and he mutters, “not even gonna ask what happened.”

(you fall back asleep quick after that, but that doesn’t last long as iwaizumi’s door opens again, oikawa going on and on with complaints about how iwaizumi was obviously your favorite, matsukawa barely caring as he pushes past him and just crashes in between you both and hanamaki declaring a dog pile as he so ruthlessly jumps on top of you.

it was horrible.

you wouldn’t have it any other way with them.)

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

A weekend in Quantico | Stiles Stilinski x Reader

Summary: You surprise Stiles and visit him in Quantico

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski x Reader

Word count: 1.3k

-

After graduation, Stiles got accepted at the FBI National Academy - as he should. You were very proud of him and both happily cried together when he received his acceptance letter. He was finally going to put his investigating talents and heightened intelligence to good use.

It also meant being apart.

The first week was alright. You missed each other, but made sure to call every night.

The second week, Stiles started his program and fell asleep on the phone. He was tired from his new schedule and you couldn't blame him.

The fourth week, you started your senior year. It was lonely without Stiles. Thankfully, you had friends to sit with at lunch, but they kept talking about how cool it must be to have a boyfriend who was in college. Sadly, dating a college boy was one of those things that's only cool outside of the picture. When you're the one in the long-distance relationship, things are much less cool.

The sixth week, Stiles was calling you two times a week and you started showing up to school wearing one of his flannel button ups. It was soft and smelled like him.

The eleventh week, he told you he wouldn't make it to Thanksgiving because the buses were expensive and he had a lot of work on his hands and studying to do too. You were really bummed out by the change of plan, but understood that college came first. That night, you cried.

The twelfth week, a traitor, who you assumed was Scott, told Stiles how you really were doing - which wasn't too well - and a package showed up at your door coming from Quantico. You opened the box with a curious eyebrow and found one of Stiles' hoodies and a short but cute hand-written letter.

I'll be home for Christmas, the letter promised. Christmas was in six weeks. There was no way you would last six more weeks without seeing your boyfriend.

It was late afternoon when you arrived in Quantico. The crisp wind was filling through your jacket, causing goosebumps to raise on your arms. You should have worn something warmer. Perhaps a hat too? But it was too late for that.

Your bag was slung over your shoulder as you crossed the street and followed the indications on your phone that would lead you to the campus.

After getting lost three times, you finally made it to the building where Stiles had his last lesson of the day. You didn't dare go too close to the classrooms, scared someone would ask for your access card and kick you out.

Stiles saw you before you saw him. He was turning a corner, walking down the hallway to take the stairs and stopped in his tracks when he saw you, startled. ''What the hell.'' At first, he thought his vision was playing him tricks, but you looked back at him, confirming that he wasn't hallucinating.

You grinned, finally seeing him after weeks of being apart. ''Missed me?''

Instead of replying, Stiles closed the distance between you and him to pull you in an embrace, snaking his arms behind your shoulders as yours wrapped around him tightly. You felt him exhale in your hold, his face finding home in your neck and shoulder.

There was no better feeling than holding the one you love.

The hug was longer than it should have, being in the middle of a hallway, but neither of you cared that students were passing by.

''What are you doing here? Not that I'm not happy you're here, because I'm fucking ecstatic that you're here.'' Stiles smiled down at you, brushing your cheek with his thumb as if to check if you were really there. ''It's just that I suspected my dad would be visiting this weekend. Not you.''

Noah had called Stiles last night to check on him and casually ask about his weekend plans. Clearly, he had failed at not evoking suspicions from his son.

Stiles re-adjusted his book bag on his shoulder and you looked at him up and down, taking in his dress pants, white button up and tie. It was the mandatory dress code for the FBI Academy and, honestly, it wasn't unpleasant for the eyes. You weren't into men in uniforms, but he looked hot.

You glided your fingers along the hem of his tie. ''You are looking mighty fine, Agent Stilinski.''

''I'm not an agent yet. I'm just an intern,'' Stiles reminded you. ''But, I'll take the compliment.''

.

The two of you walked to his dorm, which he shared with someone named Vincent - who was currently at the library.

The bed on the left was made in a very Stiles fashion. The comforter was neatly pulled with his pillow on top, hiding the wrinkled sheets underneath. His desk was a complete mess. There were piles of textbooks and miscandelious papers and pens everywhere. You couldn't even see the wood of the desk.

Stiles dropped his bag on the floor, tired of carrying it all day. ''I'd love to give you a tour of the campus, but I have a lot of reading to do and I need to solve this new mock case for Monday. If you had given me a heads-up that you'd be visiting this weekend, I would've cleared my schedule a bit.'' His face was conflicted.

''If I told you, it wouldn't have been a surprise.''

''I know... But I don't want to confine you to my dorm all weekend because I have work to do.''

You had travelled all the way to Quantico and he felt bad for not making the weekend interesting, knowing how expensive plane tickets were.

''I don't care what we do. I just want to spend time with you.'' You snaked your arms behind Stiles' neck, your fingers brushing the bottom of his hair, and brought him down for a kiss. ''And, we can always kiss during study breaks.''

''Of course we will,'' Stiles said, refusing to break tradition.

Although you weren't in the same grade, you and Stiles would study together a lot. You'd go to his house after school and he would help you with maths - because maths is hard and he aced his exams last year. And, most importantly, you'd take study breaks - aka kissing breaks. They would sometimes last longer than intended, but neither of you complained.

''You know what? Let's go out for a pizza,'' Stiles suddenly decided, changing his mind about staying in. ''There's this Italian place just outside the campus that makes the most delicious pizza. Dad and I ate lunch there when he dropped me off.''

Getting pizza with Stiles was a classic activity. You went almost every Thursday since you started dating. Sometimes, Stiles' dad would even join in - if he didn't have too much work at the station.

''Are you sure?'' you asked.

Stiles nodded. ''Well, we gotta eat and I'm tired of the healthy food they have here. I want pizza.''

You sat on his bed, waiting as he changed out of his school uniform. As hot as he looked in his fancy clothes, you liked the familiarity of Stiles' flannels and hoodies.

He unclasped the tie from his shirt, shocking you. You gasped. ''It was fake?!''

Stiles scratched the back of his neck. ''Eh, yeah... I used to wear a real tie, but I'd feel stressed or anxious, the tight feeling around my neck was making the situation worse. But, don't tell anyone.''

Although there was nothing to be embarrassed about, you could tell by his voice that he was embarrassed. You were actually proud of him for finding a solution instead of being frustrated for the way his brain worked. Stiles had gone a long way with his anxiety. He no longer let it control him or stop him from living.

''Your secret is safe with me, babe,'' you promised.

[miyuwuki]

Hi!! I'm not the one who requested "prioritizing happiness" but I really loved it! Can I request part 2, time skip where they meet again and go back together because they couldn't stop loving each other🥺. Also, thank you so much, I'm in love with your account♥️♥️

omg!! i would love to write a part 2 for prioritizing happiness! :)

part one can be found here

warnings: slight angst

miyuki kazuya x reader

prioritizing happiness (pt. 2)

it’s been years since then.

it’s been years since you left that door, forever leaving the man you once called the love of your life, behind. yet it was the only thing that remained on the back of your mind every single day; you’ve graduated college, got an amazing job, yet when you’re reminded of the events that took place, your feelings came crashing back on you all over again. you’ve had your fair shares of relationships throughout the years, and even an engagement, but you couldn’t devote yourself to anyone when you were still thinking about miyuki.

and you won’t lie, you self indulge by watching the mlb just to see the pretty boy take his place as the best catcher. no matter what happened in the past, he was coolest when he was on the field, and those burning eyes is one of the things you loved most about him. which is why one of your coworkers offered you a ticket to the game this weekend— everyone knew how you kept up with the mlb (more than anyone ever did in your workplace) and you were in no position to deny.

“y/n! do you want this extra ticket to the game this weekend? i don’t really keep up with baseball, and i’m not sure who else i should give it to.” as much as you wanted to refuse out of embarrassment, you were quite intrigued into watching a game in person— not to say, but it also gave you an opportunity to see him again. it’s not like he’d notice you amongst the crowd of a thousand people, so watching it from afar wouldn’t hurt, right?

“i mean sure, if no one else wanted it.” your coworker handed the ticket to you, your eyes lightly shining at the piece of paper in your hands. your heart was beating so fast, too excited before the game even started. “thank you so much for this,” you said, bowing to them.

your coworker chuckled, “glad it didn’t go to waste! enjoy your time.”

soon enough, the weekend came by and you were standing in front of the entrance of koshien stadium where the game was being held. you were nervous, and you didn’t get as much sleep the night before due to the jitters. and out of paranoia of bumping into miyuki, you wore a cap, sunglasses, and a mask as a disguise. you facepalmed at yourself in your head, maybe i shouldn’t have came..

but it was too late for that as you were already ambling your way up the bleachers, taking a seat around the middle area. you had a couple snacks packed and a huge bottle of water as it was pretty hot today. left and right were hundreds of people, and you even saw a group of high schoolers with miyuki’s face on their shirts. you chuckled and turned to the centre where you saw the players go to their proper dugouts, and without even knowing, you were trying to look for a certain someone.

and there he was, putting on his gear and chatting with his teammates. he’s gotten a little more mature, his features a bit more prominent and his undercut shaved. you could hear the drums of your heart through your ears as you saw miyuki walk onto the field. all the people starting cheering on his appearance, and you couldn’t help but smile too under your mask. the announcer went in between the two teams and yelled, “bow! let the game begin!”

the day went by and soon the bright blue skies were replaced by the oranges of the sunset. the game was so close and so intense that you had to get up a couple times, but nevertheless miyuki’s team won. 

you stayed behind, watching the people leave the stadium. you felt so nostalgic, reminiscing about the times you would watch miyuki’s games back in high school. you inhaled the air of the empty stadium, taking off your hat, sunglasses, and mask. the breeze was slightly chilly, but it felt nice as it went through the roots of your hair. you closed your eyes, focusing onto that sentiment of the old days. “ah, to go back..” you said into the winds, letting the weather relax your whole being.

“y/n, is that you?”

what..?

that familiar voice. that familiar feeling. that familiar everything; it all came rushing back by the second of that moment. your heartbeat was getting loud again, and your head felt hazy, not knowing what to do. you opened your eyes towards the sound that called your name, and there he was, standing right in front of you. 

“kazuya?”

“y/n, what are you doing here?” miyuki asked, dropping his bags below him. he couldn’t believe it either— couldn’t believe that you were here again right in front of him. if you thought you couldn’t get rid of the thought of the things that happened, then you should take a look at him, because he thought about you every second of the day; during his practices, during his games— not a minute passed by when he wasn’t thinking of you.

your breath got caught in your throat, fearing that this would’ve happened; maybe not this exact situation, but bumping into him. “hey kazuya,” you croaked, a lump forming in the core of your throat.

“you came to watch the game?” he quietly questioned, taking a seat next to you. he ran his fingers through his hair and took a deep breath. 

“uh, yeah. my coworker had an extra ticket and i figured why not..” you replied, feeling awkward. you fidgeted in your seat, a clear indication that you weren’t sure what to do from here. did you even want to talk to miyuki? what were you even supposed to say?

“what are you doing here, kazuya?” you asked, “shouldn’t you be heading home?”

he replied, “i usually like sitting in the empty stadium after each game. it brings me back to the old days.”

and there it was again, that awkward silence that acted as a barrier between the two of you. your head started to hurt, and you started to think about all the memories you had with him. shit.

“y/n-”

“you played well, kazuya,” you said, interrupting him. you got up and packed your things, wanting to leave before you started to yearn for more than you should. if you didn’t get out, who knows what could happen? “i need to get going. good job today, kazuya. take care.” but before you could even get past him, he grabbed your arm and turned you around, his grip tightening on your wrist.

“kazuya! what are you doing—”

and with that, he roughly places his lips on yours, causing your knees to be weak and tremble with anxiety. he wrapped his arm around your waist, giving you support so you wouldn’t fall, and kissed even deeper into your own pair. shocked, you push him off, wiping the wetness of his lips with your hand.

“what was that for, idiot?!” you exclaimed, panting. the shadow of miyuki’s hair casted over his eyes, “i still love you, y/n.” he whispered, not looking up at you. but it was barely even audible, so you replied with a, “what? what did you say?”

then, miyuki looked up at you, his brown orbs burning with sensation. the same pairs that you loved so deeply. it caught you off guard, but you held your stance, waiting to repeat what he said.

“i still love you, y/n, and i never stopped. not after that day, not after we graduated— i’m so fucking in love with you still and i don’t know how to stop.” 

your eyes widened, not registering what he just said. he still loves me? “cut the crap, kazuya..”

“y/n, i was a stupid high schooler who didn’t know any better,” miyuki continued, “but gosh, i never thought i’d see the day where i’d run into you again.”

beads of tears started to form in the corner of your eyes, mixed with emotions that you didn’t understand yourself. were you happy? angry? irritated? well, whatever it was, you couldn’t hold it in, and you could only move forward with it.

“kazuya..” you mumbled, “kazuya i—”

“you don’t have to answer, but i never stopped loving you y/n, and this just confirms it even more. you standing here right in front of me just makes me not want to let go.”

sigh, what’s there to lose anymore? you’re all he’s got, and the same went for you.

as the water began to run down your cheeks, you hugged him, burying your face into his shoulder. “i never stopped loving you either, kazuya. i never stopped thinking about you.”

miyuki’s heart pumped, looking at your figure perfectly fitted into his. he felt his shirt getting wet from your tears and felt the slight shivers you were giving off. he slowly wrapped his arms around you, getting a good embrace on your body. “y/n.. i’m so sorry for what happened before. i am so so sorry.” you nodded instead of speaking, too afraid to sound like an idiot when you were crying so hard. you hugged him tighter, a sign to tell him that it was okay, and that all that mattered was that he was there.

on the field he was the pretty boy catcher, miyuki kazuya, but on the outside he was now yours again; i mean, he always was yours.

“i’ll never let you go again, y/n. i promise. let’s talk about this at my place.”

EPILOGUE

“kazuya, i’m home!” you yelled, entering the threshold of your shared home with the love of your life. kazuya peeked out of the kitchen, wearing an apron and holding your little boy koya.

“dinner’s almost ready.” kazuya said, putting koya down. “this little guy’s been helping me in the kitchen.” your son ran up to you, going straight into your arms where he snuggled into your chest. you picked him up and swung him around, making his glasses fall just on the tip of his nose. you giggled and placed a kiss on his soft cheek, “koya’s been helping dad to cook? how sweet.” you teased, putting on his glasses properly. “pretty boy koya.”

a sudden wave of joy washed over you, content of the peak of your life. having a beautiful family, having an amazing job, all while spending it with the person you loved most. love hurts, and it uses a lot of our tears and brings out the worst; yet it is so beautiful, and in the end if it was meant to be, it will be.

“i love you, kazuya.”

“mm, i love you too.”

I HOPE YOU LIKED THIS SEQUEL, ANON! i was planning to keep prioritizing happiness just as one part, but i got carried away with this. i enjoyed writing this, thank you :)

also update: finished the daiya anime! i am empty.

[simply-zhouye]

Zhou Ye: The Wonderful Ideas of Lotte Girls // Esquire Fine photoshoot & interview ~ a really wonderful interview with Yezi!

Read rough translation of interview below: https://mp.weixin.qq.com/s/lY3oBM51ytlua7S8ZRdmlw

The lively character is like jumping candy, and the crisp voice is like summer honeydew. It can be a cute angel or a rebellious girl. Who wouldn't like a beautiful and free girl? We met Zhou Ye at a claw machine shop, and she caught the one she wanted five times!

Zhou Ye didn't laugh when shooting the magazine blockbuster, but she liked to laugh privately.

In the eyes of the people around, she is a simple and lively little girl, born optimistic, loves to joke, and loves to share all the fun and delicious. After catching up with the good-looking drama, she will also be ambitious to everyone, even if she encounters any troubles, she It will be resolved soon. She denied the title of "Girl's Heart"-when she was not working, she liked to lie at home and chase dramas, and science fiction and fantasy were her dishes. She enthusiastically gave an example. There is an American drama called "Stranger Things". It is about a little boy who disappeared in a small town in the United States. Everyone went to find him and found that there was an entrance to another world, exactly the same as this world. , But there is no one in that world. Such a story attracts her even more.

A few days ago, she took a four-day holiday, "very satisfied!" During the holiday, she made appointments with a few good friends for dinner, went to the playground, and watched dramas. If the vacation is longer, she would prefer to go home and stay with her family. Playing with mom and dad, playing with grandpa and grandmother, the family finds a beautiful place to go camping, and if you don’t go out, you can play mahjong with the whole family. She can stay away from looking at her mobile phone for a day.

Asked this girl who is not so girly what she wants, she said, "Now I want to accomplish everything in the moment, and every day will be better than the day before!"

Therefore, Zhou Ye, who hopes to be more progressive, raised his face and chatted with us about serious matters.

Before, people often said to me, "I like your performance of "Youth", but now everyone talks more about "Shanhe Ling". Let’s start the conversation with "The Order of Mountains and Rivers".

Gu Xiang in the play is a girl who is cold on the outside and warm on the inside. She helped Cao Weining, Zhang Chengling, and the singing sisters, but it didn't mean that she trusted them. She just felt that these people were very pitiful. Because Gu Xiang was picked up by her master when she was a child, she felt sorry for them and wanted to protect them.

She is defensive to everyone, and she will not trust anyone easily. In terms of character, Gu Xiang and I are a bit like. Both are more lively. What we don't quite resemble is our life experience and living environment.

When I first finished reading the script of "The Order of Mountains and Rivers", I loved Gu Xiang from the bottom of my heart. Gu Xiang grew up in Guigu where she was killed and beaten everywhere. Although she was lucky enough to meet Wen Kexing, the master who protected her, the rivers and lakes were sinister and Gu Xiang never really relaxed. Therefore, she can only protect herself by fierce methods. She looks acrimonious, slurs and curses, and she has to fight or kill at every turn. She looks very fierce and cruel, but her heart is really innocent and special. Kindness. When encountering people like Cao Weining, Zhang Chengling, and the singing sister Hua, Gu Xiang will rescue them and help them beat the gangsters. 

Many audience friends felt that the ending of Gu Xiang and Cao Weining was too miserable when they watched "The Order of Mountains and Rivers". Gu Xiang originally didn't know what the outside world was like. After she came to the world, she met Big Brother Cao, and the two people who loved each other were about to be happy. Unexpectedly, on the day of the wedding, Gu Xiang lost her lover so much that she would fight herself Life. I am also uncomfortable with this ending. It is not easy for them to get to this day. Why can't they live well? If I were to write an ending, it would definitely be two people living together happily forever.

For me, playing Gu Xiang should be more difficult than playing. This is my first time shooting a costume drama, and also my first time shooting a martial arts drama. "Shanhe Ling" really has a lot of martial arts, because it tells the story of the rivers and lakes, so I joined the group some time before I started, and learned some moves from the martial arts masters. 

In retrospect, the scene of the wedding was the most memorable. I had been shooting for three days in a row. I had been beating, killing, and hanging off Wia, and I would beat off some hair accessories from my hair. I didn't dare to hang on Wia at first, and the costume was so thick that I could easily trip on my feet. But I can’t take care of this when I shoot. This is Gu Xiang’s most emotional scene. I feel the same for Gu Xiang and can’t help crying. Until the end of my cry, I can’t tell whether my face is tears or saliva. , I hope that through this scene, everyone can feel Gu Xiang’s pain.

For me at this stage, whether it is a role that is more similar to myself or a completely different role, I am willing to give it a try. If the character of a character is very pleasing, I will have a sense of substitution when I read the script, I will like it, and I will really want to play it. 

In fact, my interest in acting began after I was in college. When I was a child, I learned piano, and I was not very sensible at that time. I thought it would be fine to play the piano every day after growing up and collect tickets. After being admitted to the Beijing Film Academy, we often watch movies. When the directors see their favorite movies, they will think "I can make such a great movie in the future". I am in the acting department, so I hope I can do it in the future. Acting in a particularly powerful movie may be the influence of the school atmosphere. I still remember that I watched some old movies when I was in school. I really liked "Scent of a Woman" and Marlon Brando. He played "The Godfather" very well.

In the film school, we had a lot of opportunities to meet the director and the crew. We tried again and again, and slowly met scenes that were willing to use our young actors, and started the road to filming. I will definitely read the script several times before filming. In addition to my own role, I have to read the whole story, write a short biography of the character, and talk to everyone at the script reading meeting. For example, when shooting "Ah Cradle", I often consulted sister Haiqing and the director. In the filming of "Youth in Youth", I would also ask the director: The girl I played has such a good family, why does she bully her classmates? The director told me that because her parents had very strict education for her, she was required to be particularly good since she was a child. She was under tremendous pressure and kept suppressing it, so she vented the pressure by bullying her classmates.

When taking the play, I don't worry about people comparing my previous works or achievements, as long as my requirements for myself will not change. My request is to do my best to shape each role. Every time I finish filming a film, I will have a certain evaluation of myself, and I will also look at other people's evaluations of me, as well as the opinions given to me by my predecessors, to integrate these. Every time, I hope I can do better next time. 

Up to now, I have been shooting for a few years, and I feel that I am not a talented actor, and I have to be a model worker. However, the sisters who brought me to the management team said that my biggest change and improvement is that I am more independent than before. When I first started filming, I would hide in the room and cry by myself every time I joined the group, especially wanting to go home.

Now I am more comfortable with the life of the crew than before. When I first joined the group, I still felt a little homesick. I hope to finish the filming soon, and become familiar with everyone. After work, I will play with the actors in the same group. When I was resting, I was playing with werewolf killing or something, so happy, I didn't want to kill it. I didn't want to be successful when I was filming "Shanhe Ling", and the same was true when filming "Ah Cradle". As actors, it seems that we can go to different places every time we film. In fact, there is not much time to spend in the local area, but we can eat a lot of local delicacies.

As I said just now, I want to do everything right now, and the current week is the best week.

 Do you often dream? Please share a dream that is more imaginative.

Zhou Ye:

I sometimes dream. Once, I dreamed that I received an acceptance letter from an owl, took the Hogwarts Express train to the magic school to learn magical magic, visited Hogsmeade Village, and met so many new friends. .

What is your dream day like? How to spend it?

Zhou Ye:

At this stage, my dream day is to sleep in late, and after waking up, I will lie in bed and watch a drama or hang out with my friends or watch a drama.

How to arrange the dream holiday? Stay at home or go out to play?

Zhou Ye:

Of course, it is best to have two days, so you can stay at home one day and go out to play one day!

What about the journey of your dreams? With whom, where to go, and how to play?

Zhou Ye:

With your family, you can go to the beach or play paragliding.

What is your dream job announcement?

Zhou Ye:

Go to Universal Studios to shoot hahahaha, I really want to go!

What kind of "dream skills" do you want to have?

Zhou Ye:

Teleport!

Which era is the dream era? why?

Zhou Ye:

Now, now is the best time. Grasp the moment.

[golden-barnes]

𝓛𝓲𝓺𝓾𝓲𝓭 𝓢𝓶𝓸𝓸𝓽𝓱 I : ‘𝓒𝓪𝓾𝓼𝓮 𝓲𝓽’𝓼 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓼𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓸𝓷

Pairing: Spencer Reid x F! Reader

Summary: Spencer always gives her a warm smile, despite being a stranger but he never imagined that their meeting would be like this.

Word count:1.3k

Warning: Mentions of the case they are working on, suicide, and stuff involving the investigation

Author’s note: I am very excited about this. It’s my first Spencer story, so let’s see how it goes.If anyone want to be added to my taglist, send me an ask. Comments and reblogs are always welcomed.

“Order for Spencer!” The barista shouted. Spencer grabbed his satchel and his papers and rushed to get his food and coffee. He was waiting for his next class to start and decided to get a snack to clear his head and revise his notes. 

He thanked the barista and went to add the insane amount of sugar he likes to add to his coffee.

That’s when he saw her again.

Spencer saw her everywhere. At the coffee shop. On the university campus. At the library. At his favorite bookstore. She was there but strangely it didn’t worry Spencer. She didn’t look dangerous or that she was a threat. She intrigued him. She looked like a normal University student, so it never raised any alarms in Spencer’s head. 

She seemed lonely though. That’s what always struck Spencer as interesting. Most college students travel in groups but she was always alone. Reminded Spencer of his time in college.

 Spencer bumped into her, carelessly. This was the first time he had seen her up close. 

“Oh, are you okay?” Spencer said to her, grabbing her forearm to stabilize her. The woman only nodded. Her eyes were focused on the door of the shop. Spencer looked in the same direction to see a man with short, brown hair standing on the other side of the street, looking at the two. Glaring at the woman. Spencer felt her shiver in his arms. 

“Uhm, thank you, sir.” She mumbled under her breath and walked out in a hurry. The man Spencer saw was gone. Spencer frowned at that. She walked to the street where the man was and just like that, she vanished too. Weird way to start the morning.

And things got weirder when Emily called him after his last class ended. 

“Hey, Reid. You are done with class, right?” She asked. 

“Yes...What’s going on?” Spencer said, packing up his things from his desk. Usually, Emily wouldn’t call him while he was on a sabbatical. Unless it was for some team activity or some dinners at Rossi’s that they plan at the last minute. 

“There’s this case and I know you are on sabbatical but we need your help,” Emily stated, trying to convey security. But her voice faltered at the end. This case had to be extra bad for Emily to call him and for her voice to be like that. 

“How fast can you get here?” She added. Spencer could hear Luke in the back talking. Spencer walked out of his classroom and started jogging to his car.

“I am on my way.” Spencer said and hung up. 

Spencer has only seen the BAU in a total mess only a handful of times. And today was one of them. Penelope was running to Emily’s office, where JJ and Emily were talking. All of them looked stressed. Rossi and Tara were talking to some agents. Rossi looked tired. The older man noticed the young doctor’s presence and called him over.

“That’s all agents. Wait for further instructions.” Tara concluded, and the agents went to their places. She let out a sigh of frustration. 

“Oh, Reid. Thank God you are here. Come on let’s get you up to speed, kid” Rossi exclaimed, signaling to the younger man to follow him.

“For the past 2 weeks, we’ve been investigating a string of murder-suicides all over Virginia and Maryland.” Matt started. Spencer looked at all the pictures of the crime scene. 

“10 men killed themselves. 5 of them were family men, and they killed their entire family before killing themselves.” JJ explained, her gaze was stuck on the photos of the families. They were happy and looked like normal, wealthy families.

“And there are no signs of foul play?” Spencer questioned.

“None, boy-wonder. But this is the weird part, none of these men had suicidal tendencies before their deaths. In fact, they were living the life. They were rich beyond all definitions of the word. They had several houses in different parts of the world and traveled to them a lot. They woke up one day and chose violence. Hell, Mark Holland, the 3rd victim, had plane tickets to Dubai.” Penelope answered. Spencer gave her a confused look. It seemed strange but nothing that the team couldn’t handle without his help. They’ve done this multiple times. Why was he called in?

Emily looked at the doctor, noticing the confusion in his face. 

“These men have no connection except being rich, privilege, and white. But their paths have never intersected. M.O is different because every suicide wasn’t carried out the same. There’s no suspicious phone calls or messages. There’s no threatening emails from one sender. There’s nothing. Only the victimology.” Matt continued.

“It’s like the puzzle from hell because everything is missing.”Penelope snorted.

“We’ve been 2 weeks on this, and we only have one lead. The fiancé of the last victim overheard him murmuring a name for days. Y/N Y/L/N. Luke is bringing her to the interrogation room.” Rossi said, looking directly at the doctor. The rest of the team turned their attention to him. There was a silence in the room. It was uncomfortable, so much that Spencer shifted in his chair.

“Reid, we need a fresh set of eyes with this woman and this case. We’ve been too invested with no rest.” Emily finally explained. Spencer just nodded and grabbed the case files and headed to the interrogation room.

As if it were a joke, Spencer saw her again. Being dragged by Luke into the interrogation room. Spencer opened the files and saw the name Y/N Y/L/N and the picture. The same woman he has been seeing everywhere was the only lead in this impossible case.

“She hasn’t said anything?” Tara asked Spencer and Luke. Y/N was staring at the glass, bored. But for the past 30 minutes, she has been silent. Not even looking at the photographs of the crime scene that were around her.

“No. I’m gonna talk with her now, I think she has had enough time to think.” Luke said. Tara nodded and left the room. Something in the back of Spencer’s mind was telling him that she wasn’t going to budge. 

“Hello, ma’am. My name is SSA Luke Alvez.” She huffed and crossed her arms. Luke smiled at her, trying to see if the nice guy approach would help.

“Do you know why you are here?”  Y/N rolled her eyes. Maybe not.

“Probably to waste taxpayer money.” She retorted. Luke let out a soft chuckle but took out the photos that were in the files.

“Do you recognize any of these men?” Luke asked. Y/N glanced at the pictures. She looked bored still but there was no sign of recognition.

“So you want to waste taxpayer money.” She laughed. “No, I don’t know who any of them are. Now can I please go?” 

“Do you know this man?” Luke asked, pulling out the picture of the last victim. She rolled her eyes again and leaned back in her chair. 

“If you are gonna keep showing me pictures of men I don’t know, at least give me some water or something.” She joked. Her body language hasn’t changed. If she had anything to do with these murders, she was a great liar.

“How about a hint? His name was Nicholas Mclain.” Y/N stiffened. Her gaze was stuck to the door, similar to the way it was at the café. 

She recognized the name but not the face? Weird. Spencer thought

Suddenly, Tara ran into the interview room. Spencer couldn’t stop her, so he entered the room with her. 

“There’s been another suicide,” Tara announced, out of breath. Luke stood up and looked at Y/N, whose eyes were trained on Spencer. 

This case wasn’t going to be easy.

[prurientpuddlejumper]

Cozy Sweaters

Jackson Neill x Reader

Sequel to Cold Hands, requested by @detectivebarba​ & written for @storiesofsvu​’s Fall Bingo! 

Warnings: Angst. Angst. Angst. Fluff? 

Summary: Oh my god they were roommates.

3,350 words

September 8th

The living room of your apartment—what used to be your apartment—was abuzz with heated voices.

“We’re sorry, but you said you were moving out!”

“So you just gave away my room?! I’m allowed to change my mind!”

Your roommates glanced between each other, awkwardness thick in the air.

“Ed is moving here all the way from England on the promise that he would have a room. He already bought his plane ticket. We’d really be screwing him over.”

“But… where am I supposed to go?”

Jenny sighed and shook her head. “Listen, if this wasn’t so last-minute, I’d understand, but you were supposed to move in with your boyfriend next week. We already made plans to fill your spot…” She really was sorry, in other words, but you were stuck.

“Can’t you still move in with him?” Todd added, and Jenny shot daggers from her eyes.

“He cheated on me!”

“Yeah, but you said he didn’t want to break up, right? Just work things out.”

“I am not,” you hissed through gritted teeth, “ever taking him back after what he did.”

September 13th

Every one-bedroom apartment listing in the greater NYC area was out of your price range. You tapped your friend group, colleagues, and acquaintances for roommates and came back empty. You went on Craig’s List and met with a few strangers seeking roommates. The ones who weren’t terrifying never called you back.

Meanwhile, Jackson Neill had been blowing up your phone.

Well, not blowing up—the first night he got drunk and filled your inbox begging you to come back, sobbing and slurring into your voicemail, spamming indecipherable text messages. The next morning, a single text read: “I’m sorry. That was inappropriate, and it won’t happen again.”

And it didn’t.

But he sent another message a few days later telling you he’d found some more of your stuff, if you’d like it back. That you were always welcome to talk if you wanted to. He wanted to be there for you. You didn’t message him back.

September 14th

It was a cold, rainy day on campus, so you risked taking a shortcut to the dining hall. You turned the corner of an old brick building, and there he was, walking out of the Department of Religious Studies, jacket collar pulled up over his neck because the forgetful fool could never remember his umbrella.

He froze at the same time you did.

All you could hear was your pulse drumming inside your skull like rain. You knew you’d run into him eventually, but you hadn’t decided how to react, and your body wasn’t offering any suggestions.

He gave you a pitiful smile and lifted his hand. “Hi.”

“Hey.”

One leaden foot shuffled in front of the other, and you kept walking. He nodded with a wan smile and sad eyes and didn’t chase you.

The outdoor seating was closed because of the weather, so the dining hall was crowded and buzzing. You snatched a small two-seat table just as another student left, brushing a stale French fry off it onto the floor. Sinking down to enjoy your cheap sandwich, you glanced around the crowd.

A middle-aged man with a soggy jacket and salt-and-pepper hair, who had no right to be so breathtakingly handsome, was searching desperately for a seat while precariously balancing a tray of soup and coffee.

He felt your gaze on him, and you were fixed with a beam of frozen green eyes.

You waved him over.

“I wasn’t following you, I swear.”

“I don’t know, eating lunch? At lunchtime? That can’t be a coincidence.”

The corner of his lip wanted to smile, but he didn’t seem entirely sure you were joking.

“Just sit down and eat,” you sighed. “There’s nowhere else.”

He sat.

Silence crackled between you like the sky before a thunderstorm as you ate your lunches.

“So,” Jackson started cautiously, “how have you been?”

You gave a dry snort. “Oh, just fucking peachy. I’m going to be homeless in two days, thanks to you.”

“What?!”

Jackson listened with a deepening frown as you told him about your roommate plight. Then he offered you a room at his house.

“Go to hell. I’m not going to move in with you like nothing ever happened!”

“No, it wouldn’t be like that. I have a spare bedroom. It’s a big house, and I could use help with the bills. Please—it’s the least I can do. Just until you get back on your feet.”

September 17th

It wasn’t like you had much choice.

You moved into Jackson’s house as originally planned, albeit under different circumstances. Instead of sharing his bed, he cleared out the spare room he’d been using, in theory, as a “gym,” and in practice as a storage closet. There was plenty of space, and with how late he always worked at the university, you’d barely see him anyway.

This might just work out.

September 20th

This was never going to work.

Your heart broke all over again every morning you walked downstairs and saw Jackson in the kitchen making pancakes, because every time, you had to fight the urge to come up behind him and wrap your arms around his waist like you used to do.

God, you wanted him back. If only you could erase the image of him with her from your mind.

October 7th

Jackson begged you to take him back.

One thing after another had gone wrong after he publicly confronted the Meyerist Movement. The cult pressured the publisher to pull his book. The university put him on leave while they investigated his alleged relationship with a student. You wandered into the living room that night and found him curled up on the couch, and his resolve broke.

There were tears in his eyes as he tried to pull you into a hug, and when you jerked away, they cascaded down his cheeks. He kept saying he was sorry over and over.

“Please. I need you. Everything is falling apart—if I could at least have you to hold onto… just one thing that wasn’t broken. Please, just tell me how to make it up to you. Haven’t I done enough? If I could take it all back, I would. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Please forgive me? Please let me hold you?”

This was hard for you, too. Part of you wanted to give in, tell him it was all OK, let him kiss you, and see him smile. The worst part of all of this was that you still loved him, but you could never trust him again. He put on such a sweet, innocent act—he was a wonderful boyfriend—but now you knew he was a manipulative liar.

You should never have moved in.

“There’s no undoing the past. We both need to move forward, not back. I’m going to start looking for other places to live.”

October 8th

Morning brought a more sober Jackson knocking at your door. Dark circles hung under his eyes, but he hadn’t been crying recently.

“Please don’t feel like you have to leave. I can get my shit together. I’m calling a therapist today.”

“That’s a good idea.”

“Yeah.” He stared at his feet, shifting on the hardwood floor.

“Jackson… I’ll only hurt you if I stay. This is too hard on you.” For us. “Besides, I can’t freeload here forever.”

“You do pay rent, you know.”

“I know, but—”

“I only have the kids every other weekend, and it’s a big house. It gets lonely. You’re doing me a favor being here.”

November 10th

In the last month, Jackson convinced you there was no hurry to move out.

He was a great roommate. He cooked, cleaned, respected your boundaries. He was a truly decent man, if an unfaithful lover, but since you were just friends now, it didn’t matter who he fucked. The biggest concern was that he wanted you back, and living together was a constant source of emotional pain. But on that front, he finally seemed to be moving on.

Whenever the topic came up, he assured you that you were welcome to stay as long as you wanted.

“It’s just so hard to find a decent place in my price range.”

“I mean it,” Jackson reiterated, adding emphasis. “If you want to stay, I enjoy having a roommate.”

You searched for hidden motives in his voice, his expression. Was this part of a long game to get you back? But his tone was friendly and open. Knowing how quickly he jumped from his ex-wife to you to Sarah, there was no way he didn’t already have his eye on someone new. At this point, you were just roommates.

“You mean permanently? Isn’t living with an ex a recipe for disaster?”

He chuckled. “The last few years with my wife were much worse than this, trust me. We were trying to stay together until the kids went to college, but emotionally, we were already divorced. It was awful… sharing a room. Constant fighting.” His eyes took a dull, faraway look as he remembered.

Worry lines creased your brow. “Are you sure you want to put yourself through that again?”

He grinned, snapping out of it, and patted you on the head like you were one of his kids. “You are nothing like her. We’re friends.”

You liked the sound of that. Friends.

November 14th

The sound of screams greeted you as you opened the front door and hung your keys on their hook next to your jacket. Jackson was watching a scary movie marathon in the living room, apropos of the foggy autumn weather.

“Candyman. Care to join?” He patted the cushion beside him.

You stayed up past midnight in your pajamas, sharing popcorn, laughing, and hiding your eyes from the gory parts. Jackson remained on the opposite side of the couch, careful not to touch you.

November 19th

You caught Jackson having lunch with an attractive student. It made your blood freeze, then boil when he walked with her back to his office.

Alone.

Fists clenched, you pressed your ear to the closed door, and heard… an essay on the role of religion in perpetuating homophobia. He was helping her edit a paper. Like professors do.

You followed them all the way from the dining hall just for talking.

When did you become a crazy ex? Why would you care if he was schtupping a hot student? You wanted him to move on—you were glad he didn’t tear up every time you walked into the kitchen anymore. But you knew then that you weren’t over him yet.

If you saw him out with someone new, it would sting like he was betraying you all over again. So you tried hard to be the one to move on first.

November 30th

A car honked outside.

“Oh, that’s my date,” you apologized to Jackson. “Gotta go.”

You got a little rush of schadenfreude from the kicked-puppy look that flashed across his face as you left him mid-conversation, sitting at the kitchen table across from your abandoned teacup. It felt like a big fuck-you, letting him know you’d be fucking someone else. A dare: let’s see if you really meant it when you said we could be friends.

But the look had barely contorted his features when he swallowed it down and smiled, “Be safe.”

He was probably going on plenty of dates himself and just didn’t tell you out of consideration for your feelings. He didn’t want you to feel used, betrayed, and immediately replaced. You were both moving on.

After a string of Tinder hookups, you felt like Jackson was out of your system, romantically speaking.

December 17th

A light dusting of snow floated down through the pale morning air. Jackson woke up on the left side of the bed, as he did every morning, and as he did every morning, turned to his right hoping to find you there. The blankets were cold.

He shivered.

You had a date last night and didn’t come home. He waited up, but never heard your car in the driveway, your keys in the door. Since you weren’t there to see his red eyes, he allowed himself to cry.

February 14th

A dull, rhythmic thumping carried through the walls. The creaking of a mattress. You cried out a name, voice cracking as you came for the second time.

It was the same guy again.

Casual hookups he could handle, but it had been the same guy for weeks now. Jackson told himself he deserved this. This was what he did to you, only while you were together. When you trusted him not to. He deserved to hear the one he loved being taken by another man.

As much as he wanted you to be his, you weren’t. He had no right to feel burning bile rising in his stomach at each of your moans and gasps. You were doing nothing wrong.

“You live here. Of course you can have dates over. No, it’s not awkward. We’re friends.”

A hot tear slid from his eye as he buried his head in a pillow.

This guy better take care of you.

May 1st

He didn’t have a roommate anymore. Not really. You spent all your time at Rodney’s apartment.

Soon you would move out, and he’ll have lost you forever.

He wanted to warn you not to move so fast, but what right did he have to judge? He let you move at the same pace with him. Let you trust him, fall in love with him, have a spare toothbrush on his sink within a few months. All the while, he figured a little action on the side wouldn’t hurt. Did he think he could chase two of you at once and get to keep the winner?

Idiot.

Sinner. That’s what his mami would say.

The few times you were home, he didn’t express his concerns about your boyfriend. He would only sound jealous, and it would push you away. If he wanted to be someone you would still answer the phone for when you moved out, he had to be a good friend, not a jealous ex.

Fuck. He hoped it worked out between you and Rodney. He really did. He hoped you were happy.

October 2nd

You came home for the first time in weeks crying. Heavy tears rolled down your face, legs shaking as you crawled up the stairs to your bedroom. Jackson was off the couch in an instant, spring up to follow you.

“Hey… Hey, what’s wrong?” He gingerly touched your shoulder, palm spreading out to make comforting circles when you didn’t shake him off. “Did something happen? Do you want to talk about it?”

You shook your head, sniffing as you slumped down onto your bed. Jackson sat beside you, worry etched into his features. He was so cute. After all this time, he still cared about you. You thought about all the times he’d begged for you back, in the beginning, desperate to hold you again. Fuck, you just wanted to feel that wanted again.

“Rodney and I broke up,” you mumbled.

“Oh. I’m sorry to hear th—”

You gripped the hair at the back of his head and tugged him roughly into a kiss. Every muscle in his neck and shoulders tensed. A surprised noise was muted between your crushing lips. You could have sworn, for a moment, he started kissing you back, but then his big hands clamped like two vices on your shoulders, and he pushed you away.

“What are you doing?” His eyes were wide.

“What does it look like?” you purred, fingers clawing at the buttons of his cardigan. “I want you to take me, Jackson.”

His hands stopped you from leaning close again. “No. Stop it.”

“Come on, this is what you wanted, isn’t it?”

“We can’t… I won’t take advantage of you like that. You’re just upset, and—”

“Fuck you! So you’ll fuck anyone and not give a shit—you’ll fuck around on me and break my heart, but you won’t fuck me when I’m asking you to?! The one time I just need you to be there, and now you’re on your high fucking horse, pretending to be a good guy?! I bet you’d screw Sarah! Fuck you. Fuck you!”

Your shoulders shook as your tirade broke down more and more into sobs. Deep down, you knew he was right. You’d regret it in the morning. But you couldn’t he just… want you?

“Why? Why not? Am I that… am I that unlovable?”

“Because you crying.” Tears were shimmering in his eyes as he said it, softly wiping a tear from your cheek. “You’re crying.”

With a gasp, you threw yourself down on the bed and buried your face in a pillow. You screamed into it, your own breath hot and wet against your face. Jackson’s weight shifted the mattress beside you, and your hand shot out in panic, blindly groping toward the movement. You felt pathetic. Needy. But you didn’t want to be alone.

“Don’t go.”

The mattress sank back down under him. “I’m not going anywhere. I won’t take advantage of you, but if you want me to stay, I’ll stay. As long as you want.”

That was all you wanted to hear in that moment, to know someone wouldn’t abandon you. His warm hand rubbed your back in slow circles as you wept, patiently listening as you told him everything in disjointed, broken pieces. How you were just being paranoid—invading Rodney’s privacy when he left his phone unlocked. You were paranoid because your last boyfriend cheated. Then you found the lewd messages, and it didn’t seem real. Plans to meet at a bar downtown. You didn’t believe it until he was toweling off, telling you something came up with his mom, and he’d be out for a while. And you followed him down to the bar and saw them together.

“He was an asshole,” Jackson said.

“Am I doomed? Cursed? Why does everyone cheat on me? Is it my fault?”

“No. Of course not.”

“Shut up! You did it, too,” you snapped. “I’m just not special enough to hold anyone’s attention. I’ll never be enough.”

“No,” he growled with a ferocity that startled you, “You’re wonderful, and anyone would be lucky to have you. That guy was an asshole, and so was I for taking you for granted. You did nothing to deserve this. One day you’ll find someone who appreciates you… who learns to treat you the way you deserve to be treated before they lose the best thing to ever happen to them.”

You shifted to press yourself closer to him. The tears didn’t stop, but a warmth spread through your chest. Jackson felt like a cozy sweater—warm and familiar. Easy to cry into. His arms were surprisingly solid and thick, but gentle when they closed around you.

He was a comfortable old sweater you could slip back on after leaving it in the closet for a year.

***

Hours passed by, and you had no more tears left. No energy left to move. Jackson was still beside you, keeping watch, as promised. You were curled up with your head in his lap, his fingers in your hair.

When he was sure you were asleep, he carefully extracted himself from under you, gradually shifting your head onto the pillow so you wouldn’t wake up. He breathed, heart aching as he looked down at your sleeping form. You deserved better than tear-stained cheeks. He knew he had no right to be so angry, but he couldn’t stand seeing you hurt again.

You wouldn’t have been if he had just…

He let his tears fall silently. This was about you, and he didn’t want to make you console him, but you were asleep now. He could let go.

He ran his fingers through your hair one last time. Then, with a furtive glance, he bent and pressed a tender kiss to your forehead.

“I love you,” he whispered. “I never stopped.”

• ● • ━━━━━─ ••●•• ─━━━━━ • ● •

Tags: @beccabarba​ / @itsjustmyfantasyroom​ / @thatesqcrush​ / @dianilaws​ / @permanentlydizzy​ / @mrsrafaelbarba​ / @madamsnape921​ / @astrangegirlsmind​ / @neely1177​ / @onerestein​ / @dreamlover31​ / @isvvc-pvscvl​​  / @shroomiehomie / @storiesofsvu​ / @welcometothemxdhouse​​ / @feedthemadness-sweetie​ / @law-nerd105​ / @amelia-song-pond​ / @michael-rooker​ / @xecq / @madpanda75​ / @alwaysachorusgirl​ / @bananas-pajamas​ / @leanor-min​ / @mad-girl-without-a-box​ / @katierpblogg​ / @worldofvixen​ / @sassyada​ / @detectivebarba​

[spicycreativity]

Flufftober Day 1 - Winning a Tedddy Bear for the Other

This is the only October prompt fic I was able to write, so uh. Hopefully you enjoy it!

2.5k words, pairings are pre-Logince, Dukexiety, and pre-Moceit

Nobody actually wins a teddy bear for anyone, despite their best efforts

Truly have no idea if this is solely an American hick town thing or not, but where I'm from, all the summer drama took place at the county fair; the hook-ups and break-ups and all the stuff that people would gossip about at the beginning of the school year. Except! The crew have just graduated and this is kind of their last hurrah before college and work and what have you.

Roman closed his eyes and tried to focus. He turned the basketball over in his hands, privately grossed out by the weird, sticky texture beneath his fingertips. He let the ambient noise of the county fair fade into the background. Focus. He just had to focus.

Then Virgil's voice shattered his concentration: "You know this game is rigged, right?"

Roman opened his eyes and, catching an annoyed glance from the carnival worker, sighed and hurled the ball at the hoop. It soared a neat arc and fell neatly through the center of the hoop. Ha. "I'll have you know I played basketball in middle school." He puffed out his chest a little and raised his arms so Virgil could admire his killer delts. 

"And how old are you now?" Virgil leaned into Remus, who was lurking over his shoulder like some kind of lanky cathedral goblin. How Remus had landed a boyfriend before he did, Roman would never know.

The worker handed Roman another ball, which Roman accepted with a half-hearted "Thanks."

"It's true, though," Remus said, placing his chin on Virgil's shoulder. "The hoops are ovals."

"Everybody knows that," Roman huffed, and threw the ball.

"Yeet!" said Remus. Idiot.

The ball bounced off the rim. "You distracted me!" Roman huffed. The carnival worker held out another ball, but Roman dismissed him with a wave of his hand. "Oh, forget it!" Two baskets would only get him a stupid Minions keychain, and he definitely didn't want something that cursed in his possession. He turned and walked away, half-hoping Remus and Virgil wouldn't follow him. 

"Dude, you paid for three tries," Virgil said.

Roman stopped and turned around and nearly got trampled by a herd of excited pre-teens. "You don't get it!" He gestured at Virgil and Remus' intertwined fingers, even now unable to fight back the wave of jealousy and longing that rose up inside him. "You guys already have your fairy--" He paused, corrected himself. "Your weird, creepy, Tim Burton fairytale dream. I have one shot to impress Logan tonight and I need to make the most of it!"

"Hold on, hold on, hold on!" Remus grabbed Roman by the wrist (ewww, Roman, just try not to think about where his hands have been) and dragged him over to a bench. "Your grand plan is to win Logan some lame carnival prize before he even gets here?"

"Oh, buddy." The mocking pity on Virgil's face was enough to make Roman blush. Jerk. All he'd had to do was sit around and wait for Remus to make the first move. "What makes you think that's even going to work?"

Roman stood up again, motioning for Virgil and Remus to stay seated. He'd had enough. "Because it's a grand, romantic gesture and I am a grand, romantic prince. Now leave me alone! You're wrecking my concentration and I'm supposed to meet Logan in an hour!" And he stalked off, soon getting lost in the crowd.

Virgil looked at Remus, who was wearing a look of undisguised masochistic glee. Still, Virgil ventured, more to soothe his own conscience than anything, "Should we try to help him?" 

"Look!" Remus shot to his feet, pointing off into the distance. "Deep fried pickles!" He took off, nearly jerking Virgil's shoulder out of socket.

Virgil dodged an elderly woman and nearly tripped over his boots. "Roman?"

"No, I'm Remus."

"No, I mean, should we try-- Oh, forget it." Virgil wrapped his free hand around the back of Remus' and let Remus yank him through the crowd. There was a long line for the cart selling deep fried monstrosities because this was the county fair and people lost their humanity upon stepping through the gates. Not Virgil. He would sooner lick the door of the horse barn than consume anything from this horrorshow of a food cart. That was one thing Virgil and Roman could agree on: fair food was disgusting. Ah, poor Roman. "You do have to feel a little sorry for him, though," Virgil said, admiring the shiny piercings decorating the shell of Remus' ear.

"Who?" said Remus, standing on tiptoe and examining the crowd. 

"Ro--"

"Oh, Roman?" Remus landed hard on his heels and nudged Virgil with his hip. "No I don't. A little heartbreak might take Sir Brags-a-Lot down a peg." Something caught his eye and he jerked his head away with a smile. "Hey. V. I'd like to dip my pickle in your deep fryer."

Virgil made a face, but soldiered on. "But he's had a crush on Logan since, what? As long as I've known him."

"Longer." Remus stuck out his tongue. "He and Logan were lab partners Freshman year. And I had to hear about him every single night." He lowered his voice into a passable imitation of Roman's, gesticulating with abandon. "'Ugh, Remus, this boy in my science class is so annoying; he knows about dumb shit like protons and covalent bonds. Who even cares about that? I don't. So I'm gonna keep talking about it for the entire bus ride home.' Nightmare."

"Exactly!" said Virgil, though he had kind of forgotten what he was getting at. What had he been getting at? He shuffled forward as the line moved and turned his fractured attention to the menu.

"Hey," said Remus, now drumming on Virgil's shoulder with his fingertips. "When was the last time you saw Pat and the Hat?"

"Who?"

"Come on, that was clever."

Virgil tapped his lower lip. "You mean Patton and Janus?" Remus just blinked at him. "I dunno, didn't they say they were buying tickets?"

"Yeah, like, 30 minutes ago.

The line moved forward again. Remus ordered his horrifying hell-pickle. Virgil ordered a lemonade, knowing full well that Remus would insist on paying anyway.

"Maybe," said Virgil, side-stepping away from the order window and deliberately ignoring the way Remus was running his tongue all up and down his deep-fried pickle, "they went to the petting zoo."

"Well, let's go get 'em," Remus said. "They don't get to ditch us just because Patton wanted to see the bunny rabbits."

The setting sun painted the clouds a brilliant orange. Patton sighed and stared out at the expanse of the fairgrounds beneath him. One by one, rides were starting to turn their lights on. It was exactly the most romantic time of evening, exactly how he'd wanted things to go when he suggested they take a quick ride on the Ferris wheel before tracking down the others.

Well.

Almost exactly.

"I should sue," Janus said. Again. He looked over the edge of their basket where it dangled almost exactly at the top of the Ferris wheel. "How long would you say we've been stuck up here?"

"Um," said Patton, trying to wiggle his phone out of his pocket.

"What if I was diabetic, hm? What if one of us needed to take life-saving medication and couldn't because we were stuck at the top of this death trap?"

"But Janus." Patton waited for Janus to meet his eyes, then smiled. "We don't."

The magic didn't last. "It's the principle of the thing!" Janus said explosively, looking away in obvious agitation.

Patton rallied and tried again. "You don't think it's kinda romantic? I mean, look out there." He gestured at the lit-up fairgrounds and the golden haloes of clouds.

Janus huffed and didn't look. "I don't see what's so romantic about a potential reckless endangerment lawsuit." And he was off again, ranting about confusing legal concepts and other things Patton wouldn't care about, except that they were important to Janus.

Oh, well. He sighed and watched the blinking lights of El Niño. If they got down soon, maybe he could win Janus a teddy bear or something and make his confession then.

"What color?"

Roman ran a hand through his hair. Of all the games to have a knack for, he hadn't expected darts. "Pink, I guess-- No, wait, the blue one."

The attendant nodded and handed Roman a flimsy acoustic guitar. "Congrats, man."

"Thanks." Roman turned to go. He had to meet Logan at the gates soon. At least he wasn't doing it empty-handed, not that a barely-playable guitar was a particularly romantic gift. Realy, who was he kidding? Logan didn't want the guitar and Logan didn't want him.

The fairground lights lit everything up a sickly green. Roman scanned the crowd at the midway, trying to determine the best way through, when his gaze fell on a familiar pair of glasses.

He was still trying to decide how to react when Logan reached him, his arms full of brightly-colored stuffed lemurs. "Hello, Roman."

"How long have you been here?" Roman demanded. The idea that Logan had been sneaking around, avoiding him, sat heavy in his stomach.

But to Roman's surprise, Logan blushed. "Not long," he said, shifting his weight. "I wanted-- Well, it seems foolish now."

Roman forgot his anger in an instant. "What? C'mon, Lo, I don't think you're even capable of being foolish."

"I had thought," Logan dropped his gaze to the stuffed lemurs in his arms, "I had thought that if I came early, I might be able to win something big and--" He cleared his throat. "And give it to you."

"Why?" Roman demanded. Why would Logan copy his plan? 

"Well, Roman," Logan said in such a clipped, professional voice that he might have been delivering the weather report, "traditionally, winning a large prize for your sweetheart at the county fair is a romantic gesture."

"But I'm not your sw-- Oh." Roman's jaw dropped. The guitar's strings dug into his fingers. Then he started to laugh. Logan's expression hardened, but he stayed put, staring intently at Roman. "I'm sorry!" Roman choked out, brandishing the guitar at Logan as some sort of peace offering, though Logan didn't have a free hand to take it. "I was--" Tears streamed hot and ticklish down Roman's cheeks, his entire body still spasming with stifled laughs. "I was trying to do the same thing! That's how I got this stupid guitar."

"Oh," said Logan. "Oh, dear."

"Come on, let's sort this out." Roman stood on his tiptoes, spotted an empty bench, and led Logan to it.

"This is terribly awkward," Logan said, adjusting the lemurs in his arms. "Do you even want these?"

"Not really," Roman said. He held up the guitar. "Do you want this?"

"I don't."

They smiled at each other. "You know," said Roman, hurriedly counting Logan's stuffed lemurs. "You can trade six of those in for a kiss."

"Piercings!" Remus tugged on Virgil's sleeve and gestured at the booth. 

"I thought we were looking for Patton and Janus," Virgil said, already trying to think of a way to keep Remus from getting an ill-advised piercing.

"Forget them! I wanna get my tongue done."

"Here?" Virgil asked as Remus tugged him closer and closer to the piercing booth. "We're, like, six feet away from a horse barn. You're gonna get an infection."

"Damn, V, it's not like I'm gonna French kiss the horses."

Virgil bit his lip and made a second attempt. "Don't you have enough holes punched in yourself?"

"Nope!" They reached the booth and Remus bounced on his toes while he studied the laminated photographs pinned to one of the tent walls.

"Fine, but don't expect any kisses until that piercing is fully healed," Virgil said, struck by an eleventh-hour moment of genius.

"Hold up." Remus turned around and stared at Virgil. "What?"

"You heard me." Advantage secured, Virgil relaxed a little and even managed a sneer. "No kisses until I'm 100% sure you're not gonna get blood or anything else in my mouth."

"Baaaabe." Remus wrapped his arms around Virgil's shoulders and let Virgil take some of his weight. "You're killing me! What about my self-expression?"

"You can get your tongue pierced," Virgil said, "just not at some shady horse barn-adjacent piercing booth run by a bunch of traveling randos."

"I'm an American," Remus mumbled into Virg's collarbone. "It's my God-given right to die of a horse infection because I got my tongue pierced at a-- Whatever you said."

"C'mon." Virgil stood Remus upright and took him by the hand. "I'll pay for you to get your tongue pierced at that nice place downtown. Or I'll get Janus to pay for it. Next birthday. I promise."

"Thanks, I guess," Remus muttered. He was obviously trying to pout, but his face kept cracking into a smile.

"And as for your self-expression…" Face-painting booths were a dime a dozen at the fair; you practically couldn't turn a corner without running into some kid with their face painted to look like Spider-Man. Virgil pointed to the closest one and continued to lead Remus toward it. "I'm thinking spider eyes for me, kraken for you?" Remus took a breath, but Virgil knew better. "There's no way anyone is going to paint a photorealistic dick on your face."

"Alriiiiight," Remus said. "Kraken it is."

The sun was now nearly gone over the horizon, only visible as a faint golden line. Janus had finally worn himself out and gone silent, though even in the darkness, Patton could see the annoyance smoldering in his eyes.

Oh, he was so cute. Even when he was annoyed. Which, granted, seemed to be most of them time, although some of it had to be an act. He smiled sometimes, when he thought Patton wasn't looking.

It was those secret smiles that had given Patton the courage to make this plan. He jiggled his leg and swallowed as nerves sent flutters of nausea through his belly. "Um, Janus?"

"Hm?"

"I mean," Patton started, "since we're stuck up here and everything."

"Don't remind me."

"I mean, you know, It's not all bad. If I have to be stuck at the top of a Ferris wheel, I'm glad it's with you. I… I'm glad it's us."

For a moment, Janus was silent. Then he said, in a tone of suspicion: "You're trying to cheer me up."

Patton sighed. As smart as Janus was, he just didn't seem to be putting the pieces together. Although, that was as much Patton's fault as it was Janus'. Well, it was mostly Patton's fault. He just had to be brave. "Look, Janus, I had this whole plan where we were gonna ride the Ferris wheel together and it was gonna pause at the top and while we were looking out over the fairground, I--" His breath hitched.

"...Was going to push me over the edge?" Janus asked.

"I was gonna do this." Rainbow lights from the Ferris wheel spokes danced across Janus' face. Patton leaned over and took his hands. "Janus, I really like you. And I want--"

"Yes," said Janus. "Whatever you're about to say, yes."

So Patton kissed him. 

[kmomof4]

Oh, Shit!

It’s here, y’all!!!! Only took a week!!! I am very excited to share this fic with all of you, even if I’m wanting to run and hide at the same time! This fic was spawned by a tweet that @stahlop shared on the CSMM discord last Tuesday. 

In college, a friend set me up on a blind date. I wasn't in a great mood because I had received a traffic ticket a few hours before. My day got worse when my blind date turned out to be the cop who gave me the ticket.

After a bit of discussion with the ladies on discord, I started writing. I do believe this is the filthiest thing I’ve ever written and I hope you all enjoy!

HUGE internet hugs and ALL the love and thanks to @hollyethecurious @karlyfr13s and @justanother-unluckysoul for their beta services. I am a very boring and repetitive writer on my own and without their INVALUABLE input, this would have been about as entertaining as plowing your way through waist deep snow in a blizzard.

Ao3 link

Rating: E

Words: Just shy of 4900

Tags: Blind Date, Smut

Tag list: Please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed.

@hollyethecurious @winterbaby89 @snowbellewells @stahlop @resident-of-storybrooke @jennjenn615 @kingofmyheart1426-blog @profdanglaisstuff @branlovestowrite @thisonesatellite @ultraluckycatnd @flslp87 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @let-it-raines @shireness-says @kymbersmith-90 @darkcolinodonorgasm @bethacaciakay @searchingwardrobes @ilovemesomekillianjones @teamhook @aprilqueen84 @qualitycoffeethings @superchocovian @artistic-writer @donteattheappleshook @doodlelolly0910 @seriouslyhooked @tiganasummertree @lfh1226-linda @xsajx @klynn-stormz @jrob64 @wefoundloveunderthelight @zaharadessert @elizabeethan @xhookswenchx @gingerpolyglot @allons-y-to-hogwarts-713 @sailtoafarawayland @justanother-unluckysoul @veryverynotgoodwrites @jonesfandomfanatic @deckerstarblanche @the-darkdragonfly @batana54

Adding a couple of other folks from discord who were excited about this one. Let me know if you’d like to be added to the regular list.

@purplehawkcaptain @holdingoutforapiratehero 

Under the cut, unless Tumblr ate it.

Emma Swan lifted the glass of white wine to her lips as she looked out the window of the restaurant to the streets of Boston below. She wasn’t in the best mood to be going on a blind date, but she’d promised her best friend, Mary Margaret, that she’d still come even after the day she’d had.

She’d lost a big skip with a hefty payday because she’d been stopped for speeding in the middle of chasing him down. So the last thing she wanted to do tonight was make idle small talk with some random guy who was friends with M’s fiance, David, who had also made the reservation. She took another sip of her wine and turned toward the front of the restaurant as the maitre d approached. The man behind him cut quite a figure in the black suit he wore. He was tall and raven haired with dark scruff lining his jaw, and it took Emma a moment to recognize him.

Oh, shit…

~*~*~

Killian Jones walked into the swanky hotel restaurant and approached the maitre d.

“Reservation for two under the name Nolan,” he informed the man.

“Yes, sir,” he replied. “Your table is ready. Right this way, please.”

Killian followed behind the man as he led him toward the back of the room, where a blonde goddess sat alone holding a glass of white wine while looking out the window. She turned toward them and Killian stopped in his tracks.

Oh, shit…

~*~*~

3 hours earlier

Emma looked in her rearview mirror when she heard the siren. Flashing blue lights filled her vision.

Oh, shit!

She pulled over and watched as her mark sped away, slamming her hand on her steering wheel in annoyance. Glancing in the rearview mirror, she tried to plaster a winning smile on her face. Dressed the way she was in her best honey trap dress, it was always possible that she’d be able to talk her way out of a ticket.

She looked in the rearview again and caught her breath as the sexiest cop she’d ever laid eyes on got out of the cruiser and made his way toward her bug. He was sex on legs. Tall and lean with artfully mussed black hair and scruff lining his jaw, she snapped her mouth closed and swallowed heavily.

“Do you know why I stopped you, ma’am?”

Emma batted her eyelashes at him innocently.

“No, I don’t, officer.”

He raised an eyebrow at her and the corner of his very full, very soft looking lips raised with it. She nearly needed to fan herself.

“You were going nearly 20 miles an hour above the speed limit back there.”

“Oh, really?” she asked, feigning surprise. “I had no idea! I’m so sorry, officer. I will be sure to never do it again.”

“Mmhmm.” His lips pressed into a thin line. “May I see your license and registration, please?”

“Oh, of course,” she agreed, lifting the hem of her dress up her thigh to where she kept her identification and a few bills in a thigh holster when she was working. She took her time getting her license out, hopefully giving him an eyeful. The man’s stunning blue eyes were darkened with lust when she turned back to him and handed him her information.

“Thank you, Miss… Swan,” he said, looking at her license. “I’ll be right back.”

She watched him walk away, appreciating the view as he approached his own vehicle, before her own desire turned into anger.

“Dammit, dammit, dammit!” she hollered, slamming her hand on the steering wheel with each curse. She looked in her rearview again and saw him looking right at her. His intense stare told her that he had seen her outburst and that she hadn’t fooled him a bit with her little innocent act. She blew out a frustrated breath and waited for him to return, struggling to bring her libido under control.

Several minutes later, he returned. As he handed back her documents, Emma screwed up her courage.

“Listen,” she began, “I really am sorry for speeding so much back there, and for the little act earlier.”

His eyebrow raised again. “Really,” he deadpanned.

Indignation flooded her cheeks with heat as she took a deep breath before continuing.

“Yes, really. See, I was chasing a skip…”

“Your reasons don’t really concern me, Miss Swan,” he said, handing her the citation.

She huffed in annoyance as she took the ticket from him. Their fingers brushed briefly and Emma could feel the shock all the way down to her toes.

“Is this really necessary?” She wasn’t above begging.

“I’m afraid it is.”

With his heated gaze on her, she looked at the citation and gasped in shock. “$350,” she shrieked, “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Watch your language, miss. I could add another hundred for disrespecting a police officer.”

Emma’s eyes got wide and she had to swallow her retort. She tossed the offensive piece of paper to the passenger seat and turned a sickly sweet fake smile on the man.

“Am I free to go now, sir?” she grit out with as much sarcasm as she could muster.

“Yes, ma’am.” He raised his eyebrow at her again and smirked while running his tongue over his bottom lip. If she wasn’t so pissed, she’d be really turned on by his actions. “I hope you have a good rest of your day.”

She wanted to tell him to piss off, but she also didn’t want to antagonize him. So she just rolled her eyes and turned the car on. When she pulled into traffic, she looked into the rearview mirror one last time and saw that he still stood on the side of the road looking at her car with a roguish smirk on his face, like he wouldn’t be opposed to pulling her over again... and maybe frisking her. And if she wasn’t so angry, she had to admit, she wouldn’t mind it either.

~*~*~

Oh, shit…

Killian couldn’t move. Couldn’t bring himself to put one foot in front of the other. The woman he was meeting, at his best friend David’s behest, was the angel he had ticketed earlier this evening.

Just looking at her again, a smirk spread across his face and he could feel his slacks tightening. He couldn’t pretend that he wasn’t very pleased about this turn of events, but he imagined that she wasn’t terribly happy to see him.

~*~*~

Oh, shit…

It was him. The cop that ticketed her a few hours ago. A flush blossomed across her face and spread down her chest- whether from arousal or indignation, she wasn’t sure. She took a deep breath, her chest rising. His eyes followed the action and darkened with desire before he subtly adjusted himself. Her own smirk ticked up the corner of her lips to match his. This was gonna be fun...

~*~*~

Killian resumed walking toward the table, inserting a slight swagger in his gait. When he reached the table, he held his hand out for her and raised it to his lips when she placed her own hand in his.

“A pleasure to see you again, Miss Swan,” he murmured, brushing his lips across her knuckles.

Raising her eyebrow at him, she snarked, “So now you’re gonna be a gentleman?”

“I’m always a gentleman, Swan,” he said, releasing her hand and sitting down across from her.

“Coulda fooled me,” she replied, rolling her eyes at him. He couldn’t help the genuine grin spreading across his face at her action. “I don’t think a gentleman would have given me a $350 ticket when I was just trying to do my job.” She raised her eyebrow at him again.

“Your job?” he asked. “And what might that be?”

“Well, I tried to tell you and you cut me off.” She could feel her anger at him rising again. “Not exactly gentlemanly behavior, you know.”

He felt his cheeks flame in embarrassment but nodded in acknowledgement of her assertion and motioned for her to continue.

“What? No ‘I’m sorry, Swan, you’re right’? No begging me for forgiveness?”

He smirked at her again. “I don’t beg.”

She pursed her lips and he was about to have a serious problem in his pants if she didn’t let up soon.

“Mmhmmm, we’ll see about that,” she murmured. Her eyes had darkened to a deep jade and she ran her tongue along her bottom lip. Yep, definite problem… He adjusted himself again, trying in vain to get comfortable.

“What do you do for a living, Emma? May I call you Emma?”

She rolled her eyes again. Every time she did that, her sex appeal increased ten fold and so did the tension below his belt.

“Might as well,” she exasperated, “since this is supposed to be a date. I’m a bail bonds person,” she continued, “and I was chasing my latest skip. He left his mother on the hook for his bond and she’s about to lose her house if I don’t bring him in.”

“I see,” he frowned. “I can’t do anything about the ticket itself. It’s already in the system. But perhaps we can team up and get him back behind bars without you endangering yourself and others.” He raised his eyebrow at her and was pleased to see her eyes darken further with a come hither look within.

“I don’t think I’d be opposed to that,” she flirted back, her bedroom eyes making it nearly impossible for him to think straight. If he didn’t have her tonight, he was going to lose his ever lovin’ mind.

The flirting between them continued back and forth over the course of the evening as they discussed their proposed partnership to bring in her skip, exchanged light and teasing touches, and swapped stories about David and Mary Margaret.

Killian was nearly driven mad with desire, much like he had been earlier when he ticketed her, between her sultry looks and the way her lips wrapped around her fork as she ate. She stared at him over the candle-lit table as she drew the fork out of her mouth in such an erotic way that he wished she was taking him into her mouth instead. He could just imagine her pink lips wrapped around him, sucking him down, which was not helping him bring his libido under control, at all.

~*~*~

Emma watched him from under her lashes as she ate, doing her best to keep her own breathing under control as she watched him squirm. She knew exactly what she was doing to him; the only problem was, watching him was turning her on too. The way he was looking at her now, he looked like he’d rather be dining on her, rather than the excellent steak on his plate.

His eyes bored into hers, his blue irises nearly swallowed by black, his jaw slack. She chewed and swallowed, never breaking the heated stare between them.

He swallowed heavily. “You wanna get outta here?”

“Yeah,” she agreed, wiping her lips and standing as he pulled out his wallet and tossed a couple hundred dollar bills on the table. He grabbed her hand and all but pulled her out of the restaurant into the lobby and towards the reservation desk.

“Do you mind? I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to wait long enough to get back to one of our places.”

She shook her head, seeing the logic in the plan. Her heart rate was already galloping a mile a minute, but when he drew her into his side and his arm snaked around her while his fingers drew nonsense along her waistline, it increased even more.

Once they were on their way up to the room, he captured her lips and caged her in at the back of the elevator, his hands running along her sides and setting her on fire. She pulled him closer and wrapped her arms around him, burying her fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck. Their tongues battled for dominance as he pulled her leg up over his hip and ground his hardness exactly where she needed him.

~*~*~

Killian swallowed her wanton moan as the ding of the elevator signaled their arrival on their floor. He reluctantly pulled away and touched his forehead to hers as she tried to compose herself before the doors opened. His desire for her threatened to drown him and he didn’t know how he was gonna make it to their room before ravishing her completely.

The doors opened and he grabbed her hand again as they exited the elevator. Moments later, they arrived at their door. Plastering herself to his back, her arms wrapping around his front, she writhed against him as he waited for the lock on the door to disengage. She cupped him through his pants just as he opened the door.

He covered her hand with his own, prompting her to giggle, as they fumbled into the room. There was no time to look around at the fancy amenities the hotel offered, not when he had a bloody goddess in his arms. He spun around in her embrace and caged her against the closed door.

“You’re gonna pay for that,” he growled, prompting another giggle from her.

“Promise?”

“Yes, indeed, Swan,” he murmured before his lips latched onto her neck and sucked hard on her pulse point.

~*~*~

Emma’s head fell back against the door, granting him more access as white hot pleasure spiraled through her and centered in her throbbing core. She reached down and cupped him again, his length and thickness filling her small hand, before undoing his belt and pants.

She pushed his boxer briefs down his hips freeing his cock, then wrapped her hand around him and started stroking him up and down, up and down, up and down. His lips released her and he lowered his forehead to her own, a broken groan erupting from his throat as she continued her ministrations. Having him like putty in her hands was a heady feeling and she couldn’t bite back the smirk at the wicked thought that suddenly entered her mind.

She pushed away from the door, never halting the movement of her hand, forcing him to step backward into the room toward the king sized bed. She caught his sapphire gaze just as his lips crashed to hers again. They continued to shuffle toward the bed as his lips tried to devour hers, his pants falling all the way to his ankles. It was a wonder he didn’t get tangled up in them, pulling them both to the floor. They came to an abrupt halt when his legs hit the edge of the bed and tumbled onto it. He never released her as they fell and she laughed out loud when she landed on his chest.

She looked down at him and was struck by the wonder and awe she saw in his eyes. A sentiment that should make her want to run as far and as fast as possible. She didn’t know where these feelings were coming from but she knew she didn’t want to run from them either. Looking in his eyes, she saw a tender care within them that made her feel safer than she ever had, with any man. She was always very careful to keep her heart behind heavily fortified walls, but being here now, with him, she could feel those walls crashing down, leaving her totally exposed. The awed surprise and devotion she saw in his own cerulean depths told her with absolute certainty that he would catch her when she fell.

She lowered herself to him, much more slowly this time, and gently touched his lips with her own. His hands buried themselves in her hair as their tongues caressed one another, moans and soft gasps coming from them both. Her own hands started working down the buttons on his white dress shirt and stroking the soft chest hair that was exposed as she went. Finding the zipper at the back of the dress, he lowered it as his fingers stroked the exposed skin, kindling an inferno within her.

Once the zipper was down, she raised up again as he pulled the straps of her gown down her arms exposing her breasts to his sight. His eyes darkened impossibly further as he lifted his head and latched onto a pink nipple, teeth nipping and tongue laving as he held her tightly to him. A contented sigh left her as he released her and turned his attention to its twin. The inferno was dying down, replaced with glowing white hot embers, whose warmth filled her all the way through her extremities.

“You taste absolutely divine, my Swan,” he murmured, still showering her breasts with attention. She keened in pleasure before opening her eyes and pushing his jacket and shirt off, exposing his entire chest to her exploring fingers. They danced along his ribs and she couldn’t help her delighted grin when she found a spot just below them that caused him to jump, halting his worship.

“Ahh,” she breathed, “a bit ticklish are we?” She didn’t give him a chance to answer before she grasped his length again and began pumping him in earnest. His eyes rolled in his head as she stroked him from root to tip, swiping her thumb across the head that leaked precum at each pass. Releasing him for a moment, she shimmied out of her gown, leaving it to pool on the floor around her feet before she climbed fully on the bed with him.

Their eyes met, his blue completely swallowed by black, before she began leaving open mouth kisses down his torso, never breaking the spell woven between them in their transfixed gazes. She placed a kiss with a swirl of her tongue on his hip bone, his length rubbing against her cheek. Turning, she placed a kiss to the tip before taking him into her mouth. Their gazes remained locked as she took him as deep as she could before coming back up to start all over again.

“You look so good with my cock in your mouth, love,” he moaned, “Just like I imagined. Just like that, Swan. Yes. So good.”

She went to work on him in earnest, her wicked thought from earlier flicking back through her mind. She bobbed her head up and down his shaft, her tongue swirling about the head before she took him in again. When he bumped the back of her throat, she cupped his balls in her hand and swallowed around him before releasing him with a pop. The groan coming out of him was positively wrecked and she couldn’t help the smug smirk spreading across her face as she looked back up at him.

“You are a wicked vixen, Swan,” he choked out. It took him a moment to match her smirk with one of his own.

“You ain’t seen nothin’ yet,” she cheeked, before swallowing him down again.

~*~*~

He fell back down on the bed and grabbed the bedspread with both fists, determined to let her have her way with him and not just hold on to her head for dear life as he took his pleasure in her mouth.

She licked and laved and he thought he might die from the exquisite torture of holding himself back as he bumped the back of her throat again and his balls drew up ready to explode down her throat. She released him with a pop again and this time his groan was more of pain than pleasure. He blew out an exasperated breath and caught her eye again. The green orbs danced with mischief and his own narrowed in speculation.

“Just what are you up to, Swan?” he asked, in between heaving breaths.

“You’ll see,” she replied before sucking him down again.

This time he didn’t hold back. He grabbed her hair and began pumping into her mouth, nearly desperate in his need. He could feel his balls drawing up again and was about to release her of his own accord, when she pulled completely off of him once again, wringing a wretched moan from the depths of his soul out of him.

“What do you want, Swan,” he groaned in agony. “I’ll give you anything if you’ll stop teasing me.”

He looked at her gorgeous face, her cheeks flushed, her pupils dilated, her lips parted, red, and swollen. She was just as aroused, but wasn’t to the edge of desperation like he was. His eyes widened as he suddenly guessed her purpose.

She grinned like the cat that caught the canary. “I’ll let you come,” she began, taking him in hand again and stroking up and down, “if you’ll pay my ticket.”

“Gods, woman,” he croaked, “Yes, anything. Just please, let me come,” he begged.

She lowered her head, taking him down one more time and he sighed in relief as he felt her mouth envelope him. That relief was short-lived however as she slowly stroked and swallowed him down. He thrust himself into her mouth and in seemingly no time at all, the tide of ecstasy overwhelmed him as he exploded down her throat. Thick jets of his seed burst from him so furiously after all her teasing that he struggled to remain conscious.

She swallowed every drop before releasing him and licking her lips. The erotic picture she painted roused him enough to grab her by the shoulders and surge upward, crushing his lips to hers. His tongue stroked the seam of her lips, tasting himself before she opened to him, her tongue matching his stroke for stroke. They finally broke away and he touched his forehead to her own, panting for breath.

“You are a minx, Emma Swan,” he confessed.

She smiled, a more genuine one this time before she pecked him on the lips. When she pulled back, he grabbed her.

“Uh, uh, uh, Swan,” he cajoled, drawing her close and kissing her gently. “A gentleman never leaves a lady wanting.”

“And you did say that you’re always a gentleman,” she agreed. He lowered her down to the mattress and looked his fill as his hands traced her curves from her jaw, over her shoulders, down her side and brushing the side of her breast, over her hip and down her long legs.

“You are exquisite, Emma.” His gaze captured her own again and as much as it had been teasing just a few minutes ago, now they were filled with a longing desire that matched his own.

He captured her lips again as his hands continued his exploration. Finally touching her scorching center, he dipped one finger into her depths, drawing it through her drenched folds then raising it to his mouth where he sucked it clean.

“You taste delicious as well,” he purred. Killian moved down her torso, leaving tender kisses and light teasing touches in his wake until she was nearly vibrating in anticipation. Looking back up at the gorgeous woman on the bed with him, a genuine smile broke over his face as he maneuvered himself between her spread legs and inhaled deeply. “And your scent,” he hummed in appreciation before diving in like a man starved. He licked a long stripe through her sodden folds and followed it up with his fingers as she writhed above him. Deciding to torture her a bit as she had him, turnabout is fair play after all, he pulled back and placed a hard and dirty kiss to her throbbing clit. A groan of complaint flew from her lips as his fingers withdrew.

“What the hell, Jones? This is not being a gentleman.” She lifted her head and scowled at him, apparently most displeased with his reciprocation.

“Getting a bit of revenge does not negate my gentlemanly qualities,” he cheeked at her irritation. “Don’t worry, Swan,” he assured her, “As I said before, a gentleman never leaves a lady wanting.” Waggling his eyebrows at her, he placed an arm across her torso, holding her still. He turned and gently bit down on the inside of her thigh before soothing it with his tongue. A tortured moan from Emma, her fists gripping the bedspread, prompted a kiss to her other thigh before he turned his attention to her core again. Lapping at her folds, her juices bathing his tongue, he plunged two fingers into her depths, curling them just right before he wrapped his lips around her clit and sent her flying over the edge. Her cries were music to his ears as her hips bucked against his face. Bringing her down gently, he rested his head on her hip, watching her face as the aftershocks flowed through her.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything as beautiful as you when you come, Swan,” he murmured, pressing his lips to her hip bone.

She looked down at him, slightly dazed. “Flattery will get you nowhere, Jones,” she declared. “You did promise to pay my ticket.”

“I did, indeed, Swan,” he conceded. “And as a man of my word,” he put his right hand upon his naked chest, “I will do so.” He surged toward her, capturing her lips and rolling them until she rested on top of him. “Once I’m done with you,” he whispered, pressing kisses along her jaw.

She moaned as he rolled them again, working his way down her jaw to her collarbone and chest before his lips wrapped around her nipple, teasing it to a hard peak before turning his attention to the other.

“So responsive to me,” he murmured against her skin. He felt her grab his hair and tug relentlessly until he released her with a pop and let her draw himself up until he was staring down into veridian orbs that he could easily drown in.

“I need you inside me, please,” she begged, drawing him down into a bruising kiss.

“As you wish,” he cooed against her swollen lips. He looked down at her again as he lined himself up at her entrance. “Do we need anything?”

She shook her head. “I’m clean, I’ve got it covered, and I trust you,” she assured him, arching her back until he barely slipped inside her. His heart soared at her words as he thrust home, sheathing himself within her depths in one stroke.

Killian lowered his forehead to hers, glorying in the words she’d just spoken and in her tight warmth surrounding him. His lips gently stroked her own as he began to move within her. Moving languidly, deliberately, stoking the fire between them, he slowly made love to her. Moans and gasps of pleasure spurred him on, grinding against her every time their hips met. He could stay buried within her, holding her close to his heart, all night, every night. For the rest of his life.

Emma’s legs wrapped around his hips urging him deeper as her walls fluttered around his length. He increased his pace, pushing her higher and higher until their cries of mutual pleasure joined together in an age-old chorus of completion.

Killian shuddered above her as his release pumped into her depths. His hips stilled and he had to steel himself for what he might find when he opened his eyes. David had warned him that his date tended toward being closed off, holding people at arm's length, but that if he gave her a chance, he really thought Killian could find happiness and eventually love with her. And after the evening he had spent with her, he was ready to hand her his heart on a silver platter. She was brilliant, feisty, gorgeous, could hold her own in any situation, brave, strong, his match in every way. But he was so afraid that when he looked into her eyes, he’d see nothing but a citadel hiding, protecting her heart, after getting exactly what she wanted out of him. He took a deep breath and opened his eyes.

Eyes as green as the verdant forests he’d vacationed in as a lad stared back at him full of hope and trust, tinged with fear. Wanting nothing more than to erase that fear, he cupped her face in his hands and softly pressed his lips to hers, trying desperately to convey his own hope, trust, devotion, and yes, even love for her into his kiss.

When they broke for air he wanted to tell her everything. Everything in his heart. But before he could, she placed her finger on his lips and shushed him.

“Not tonight,” she said, removing her finger and kissing him again softly. She turned in his arms and snuggled back into his embrace. He held her tighter, burying his nose in her golden mane before he let sleep overtake him.

~*~*~

Killian struggled to open his eyes as the old fashioned, jarring ring of a landline telephone sounded from the floor next to his side of the bed. Emma still slept soundly in his arms and he groaned as he turned over and scooted over to the edge, his hand fumbling around on the floor until it closed over a cell phone. He fell back, eyes shut and answered.

“Hello?”

“Killian?” Mary Margaret asked, barely containing her squeal. “What are you doing answering Emma’s phone?”

Killian’s eyes flew open.

Oh, shit!

[groovyzombiellama]

The Golden/Stylish Trio

Title: The Golden/Stylish Trio

Requested? Yes.

Plot: You are an actress and shoot a project with Alex and Bill and the two of them have a crush on you.

Word count: 1617

—***—

Ever since you were a child, you knew that you wanted to be an actress, and it didn’t matter how many people told you that you shouldn’t dream so high and that you were gonna fail, that just made you want to work more just to prove them wrong. You were constantly told that you wouldn’t have enough work, and that being an actress is stressful and difficult. Of course you knew that, in their own way every job is difficult, but you didn’t mind it because you knew that you would have difficult moments, but you were ready for whatever that world had to throw at you, because at least  that way, you would be doing something you love. You had the support of your immediate family, like your parents in the first place, and so you decided to take a chance and start your path towards making your dreams come true.

At first you had it quite difficult, not really being what the casting agent was looking for, both in terms of character and in your lack of experience. You had sleepless nights thinking about how you were supposed to gather experience when nobody wanted to give you a chance to gain any of it. And you expected this, so it wasn’t a surprise to you, and it just motivated you to do better and go to some classes and stuff, but that doesn’t mean getting rejected so many times didn’t hurt you. There were times where you would feel like the people who told you that you wouldn’t be able to make it were right and that you should just give up and go back home. Your family was alright with you coming back and going to college for something else, but just like your friends, they believed that you could do it and that every beginning is hard, but that doesn’t mean that you won’t succeed. And indeed, with patience, it started happening, you started getting cast.

Of course, you wouldn’t be able to get a lead role right off the bat, but you were getting work as eather a background character, or a very minor character that maybe had one or two lines. And even though it was something small and didn’t mean a lot of camera time, you were still extatic and extremly grateful and happy to even be getting any work at all. Your portfolio was growing, your list of work experience was becoming longer and longer, and a lot of casting agents saw your passion and dedication to acting, to the point where you even got cast as a supporting character in a movie, the so called “best friend trope”, and your lines consisted of pep talks and you were honestly just there to lift up the lead character. But it was the longest time you had spent in front of the camera so far and the most speaking lines you had gotten, so to say you were grateful and excited would be understatements.

You had no idea where all of this was gonna take you, but you were so proud of yourself for not giving up on your dreams. You even sent tickets for that movie to your cousins who didn’t believe you could make it and some of the people who bullied you and said you would never amount to nothing. It wasn’t to spite them, not too much anyway, because you never were a person to hold a grudge or feel good if others are feeling down. You just wanted to tell them that hard work will always pay off and that hard work can beat talent if talent doesn’t work hard. You were getting recognized and it was blowing your mind to be walking down the street and hear people talking about you as you pass them, guessing if you were the girl they had seen in that movie. And it made you smile every time. Eventually you ended up getting an e-mail that changed your life in a drastic way. A huge gig, bigger than any you have had before, with actors that you admired.

You had known Bill Skarsgård from his role as Roman Godfrey in Hemlock Groove, and as the iconic clown, Pennywise, in the most recent IT movies. And when your agent told you that he was gonna be one of your costars, you had to sit down, as your legs felt like they were gonna give out. He always seemed like a truly pleasant person to be around and an actor who really cares about the craft. And his good looks were just a bonus to a very amazing person. And that was the case for your other costar who once again gave you that feeling that you were gonna collapse if you keep standing. The Ivar the Boneless from Vikings, Victor from Outsiders, Alex Høgh Andersen. Alex always had the appeal as a literal ray of sunshine to you and it made your head feel dizzy to be working with them at all, and even when you met them, you couldn’t believe it was true.

Both Bill and Alex found you adorable as you tried not to fangirl around them, and be your cool self, or at least what you thought was cool. Bill had known about you as he had watched one of the movies you were in and he admired the way you put everything you had into your character, so he already knew some things about you, but even with that, you had managed to amaze him beyong belief. To Alex. meeting you was completely new territory, but he was enjoying every second of it, seeing the way every part of you contained the character you were supposed to potray. Even your eyes would show the emotion your character was supposed to be feeling that both men were dangerously close to apologising to you the moment they looked into your eyes as you were filming a scene where you were supposed to have a disagreement or fight.

Both Alex and Bill felt like they were learning a lot from you, as much as you were learning from them. And your vibrant personality, combined with that smile of yours were enough for them to develp crushes on you. It amazed them that neither one of them was able to say anything to you, that when it came to you, they would feel nervous or get tongue tied. When the two of them were talking and you came up, the shock on both of their faces, wide eyed expressions were almost comical as they realised the second they started talking about you that they had crushes on you. They didn’t want to make this a rivalry between them and try to win you over from one or the other. They were gonna leave the choice to you if you ever developped feelings for one of them and the other was gonna support you both. But that didn’t stop them from admiring you constantly and gushing about you in interviews and to each other.

As more time passed, the more the three of you started getting closer, so much so that they put up with the silly nicknames that you gave them and even though Billy and Lexie weren’t their favorite, and they honestly prefered some of your more creative nicknames, or standard “love” or “hun” that you loved calling people who were important to you, they cared about you enough to accept you just the way you were, which meant the world to you. Bill’s brother Gustaf was really glad that his costar from Vikings was friends with his brother, because the cast of the show had become like his second family in a way, and now you were a very dear friend to all of them.

Every interview that you did with these boys was a blast, you would always have fun and if they even sensed that you were feeling uncomfortable with a question or something, the both of them would create a diversion, as you woke up in them the feeling to be protective over you, but not too much that you feel suffocated, but just enough for people to know that you were not someone to mess with, both because of you being a strong and independent woman, and also because you had the two of them who had your back as much you had theirs. You three were truly a great trio, and your friendship was one that you were sure was for the books and that it was gonna last.

Regardless of the fact that their crushes were growing by the day and often times they had to stop themselves from spending entire interviews talking about you, they never forced you into anything, or tried to convince you that one of them was better for you than the other. And their biggest pet peeve was when you didn’t believe in yourself and always claimed that “people were just too kind to you” whenever someone complimented you, because they just wanted you to know that to them you were absolutely amazing and to so many people who were fans of you. But they appreciated that you were kinda using that to keep your humble nature, worried that if you started giving yourself that much credit, you would become vain and too self absorbed. They were thankful that they met you and hoped your friendship lasted a long time, even if nothing more developped from it. You were the Golden Trio, named by the entertainement industry, or the Stylish Trio as fans started calling you after Alex’s post, and you were happy with it.

---***---

SURPRISE @walkxthexmoon !! You wanted either one of aus that I do, but you were always sweet to me and kind, that you get all of it, written, gif and social media au :D <3 I truly hope you like it :)

I appreciate all of you guys and thank you all for your follows, likes, reblogs, I’ll never be able to thank you all enough. Every time I get an e-mail telling me someone followed me, it makes my entire week better and keeps me motivated! So thank you to all of you, I love you all so much, and if people are nice to me I do my damnest to be 10x nicer, because you deserve it back, so this fic took a lot longer to make than I thought, and hopefully it’s a good one and you guys like it, and just once again, I appreaciate all of you <3

[tomboyneedshercoffee]

Lovedust Pt.3 || Peter Parker x Stark Reader

Summary: Y/N catches the eye of one of her male classmates who invites her to an upcoming party. As she weighs her options, Peter takes her out for a treat but old history comes back up. 

Word Count: 4.1k

Author’s Note: I hope everyone is safe during this crazy time. Remember: Wear a mask, wash your hands, and only leave your house for necessities! You can literally stay at home and read fanfiction all day and you would be saving lives! I introduced a new male character and I’ll be real, Joshua Bassett needs to be appreciated so I put him in! However, for the character Josh you can think of any celeb or crush you have if you want! 

Warnings: Adult language, mentions of sex

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

part seven || part eight || epilogue

When Monday rolled around, all you wanted to do was stay home. You felt that there was too much going on to just go on autopilot for eight hours at school when all you could think about was how to fix Peter.

While you had decided that you would at least be nice to him, there was still a small part of you that was worried about what would happen if he never got better. 

How much of your relationship would change and worst of all, what would happen to his ‘superhero’ duties?

If you were really the only thing running through his mind, how would he even function saving lives?

As much as you wanted to sit and worry about him, you knew you needed to get your own life together before you started fixing other people like going to school.

You went to college-prep academy which really just meant that everyone had to wear uniforms to kill all individualistic forms of expression and pay ridiculous tuition to learn. 

You really didn’t mind since most of your classes were ridiculously easy but a lot of your classmates were spoiled monsters who liked to flaunt their rich last name.

Lucky for you, Stark was pretty hard to beat.

Once you slipped your blazer on, you grabbed the straps of your backpack and walked out into the kitchen to pack your lunch where Peter was already awake, making breakfast.

Usually, by this time, Peter would already be on his way to school on the subway but your dad and Banner thought it would be best for him to stay at the complex so they could run more tests on him.

Peter took his attention off of the stove and drew his eyes towards you, his face already flushed red as he tried not to stare below your skirt,” Y/N! You look really pretty in your uh- uniform.”

At this point, you knew that whatever words that came out of Peter’s mouth wasn’t his fault so you decided to roll with it. You were so used to him always giving you snarky replies about your school uniform but now, you didn’t have to waste your energy thinking of a comeback.

You hummed as you leaned over the kitchen island to grab a piece of bacon that was off to the side,” And you look really pretty in your pajamas Parker. How are you holding up? Are they getting any closer into figuring out how to stop your chest pains?”

Ever since Peter first made contact with the lovedust, he had been complaining about how tight his chest was feeling. It seemed like a normal side effect since it would happen whenever you were close to him but as days passed, his chest started to hurt more every time you weren’t around.

You felt guilty knowing that you going to school would literally cause him pain but at the same time, you couldn’t adjust your whole life around Peter.

Peter shook his head as he swallowed hard,” No not yet but I’m sure they’ll figure out something soon... I packed your lunch by the way. It’s over there by the sink.”

You looked over towards the sink and sure enough, your lunch bag that you hadn’t used since freshman year was neatly packed. You didn’t have the heart to tell him that your school had really good chicken pesto on Mondays so you gladly looked through the lunch bag to see what was inside.

As you looked through it, you could see a white piece of lined paper folded and taped against a small packet of Oreos. Peter noticed that you had found the note and this time, his face grew redder.

“ You can throw it away if you want, I thought it would be nice or whatever,” Peter said quietly as he walked over to where you were standing.

He reached for your lunch bag but you tensed up, pulling it towards your chest,” Aw, come on Parker, please? Technically, this note is like mail and you know it’s a federal crime to tamper with it.”

Peter bit the inside of his cheek and nodded as he rubbed his sweaty palms on his thighs. You had never seen Peter ever this flustered before and a part of you felt guilty that you were the reason he was so nervous but a part of you liked the attention.

You had to remind yourself that once Peter was cured, it gave him free rein to possibly be the same dick as before. At least for now, you liked being friends with Peter.

“ I gotta go now but I’ll see you after school,” You finally said as you put your backpack on and walked over to the elevator,” try not to die or anything.”

“ I’ll do my best, have a good day,” Peter smiled as he suddenly remembered something,” oh, make sure you bring an umbrella, it’s supposed to rain today.”

You checked your phone to look at the weather for the afternoon but saw that it was supposed to be bright and sunny all day,” I’m sure it’ll be fine, bye Parker.”

Once you made it all the way downstairs to the main entrance, you looked behind your shoulder to make sure no one was behind you before rummaging through your lunch bag. You took out the note Peter had written to you and even though you didn’t even open it yet, you already felt your stomach twisting and turning.

You had a feeling it would be him saying how pretty you looked or how much he loved you since he was under his lovey trance but when you opened up the note, you felt yourself smile.

Thank you for not being weird about everything that’s going on. I’ll make it up to you, I promise. P.S I love it when you call me Parker

                                                      -------

School dragged on and on and by the time the last bell had rung, you felt like you were on the verge of dropping out.

Any of your STEM classes weren’t as interesting or as challenging to you anymore, especially since you had a whole floor in your own house that was just laboratories filled with people who have actually won Nobel Prizes.  

Once you left class, you made your way straight to your locker and put your math textbook into your backpack. When you shut your locker, you looked up to see your friend Kim holding up her phone towards your face.

“ Hello to you too, what am I looking at?” You asked as you took her phone to get a better look at the screen,” is this a Snapchat invitation?”

“ Good, you can read,” Kim teased as she adjusted the straps of her backpack,” Amber is throwing a party on Saturday and we have to go!”

You furrowed your eyebrows as you handed the phone back to her. You didn’t hate parties but you much rather preferred smaller functions with all of your friends than a room filled with total strangers your age.

“ I thought we hated Amber and I’m pretty sure she hates us. She literally called you rat face when you were doing your presentation and you pushed her into the trashcan the other day,” You reminded Kim as your mind thought back to how much you disliked Amber.

If your school was the chocolate factory, Amber Kennedy was Veruca Salt. Anytime she pouted and whined about whatever new golden ticket she craved, she got it.

While Amber never anything specific towards you, anyone who disrespected your friend was an enemy in your book.

Kim rolled her eyes as the two of you made your way down the hallway,” Okay that’s true, I hate that bitch with every fiber of my being but I just need a mental break from school. Plus, it’ll be good for you to get yourself out there. I heard a certain lead singer in a band is looking forward to seeing you there.”

You knew right away who Kim was going on about but you only shrugged,” I don’t know who you’re talking about...Is it raining outside?”

Of course, she knew you were lying because there was only one guy you ever mentioned around her when you weren’t complaining about Peter.

Joshua- or Josh- was one of the few guys in your life who managed to not piss you off completely but that wasn’t the only thing you liked about him.

“ Let me refresh your memory; dark brown, curly-haired genius who sits behind you in Anatomy and according to you has ‘perfect brown eyes that make me want to jump off a bridge’?” Kim reminded you as you playfully hit her shoulder.

You were never the type to be boy crazy and you weren’t one of the girls who felt their knees buckle every time they saw him, but whenever he would wave or smile at you in class, you had to physically stop yourself from blushing like a schoolgirl.

In all honesty, you wouldn’t say you and Josh were friends, a better-suited term would be classmates that occasionally talked about things outside of school ever now and then. 

“ Look, as much as I would love to go to a party where I know no one and where the host hates me, I’m not going to go to a party just because Josh is going to be there. I don’t care how cute he is, I’m busy dealing with you know who,” You said as you heard someone chuckle behind you.

“ You think I’m cute?”

Your heart dropped to the floor as you turned around to see Josh standing behind you with a wide smirk on his face. You could feel your throat hitch as you quickly looked Josh up and down to make sure he was not a figment of your imagination.

It was nearly impossible for anyone to look good in a school uniform but of course, Josh managed to pull it off every time. His tie was loosely undone around his white collar and his sleeves were rolled up all the way to his elbows and you were 100% on board with it.

For a moment, you felt actual sympathy for Peter because now you understood how he must be feeling.

Without a second thought, you felt your binder slip out of your hands and once it hit the floor, your notes came out of the binder pocket.

You both took a moment to stare at the papers on the floor but Josh was the first one to bend down and pick some of them up.

You snapped out of your daze and kneeled down in front of him awkwardly as you helped him pick up your notes,” I’m sorry, you just startled me.”

Josh let out a small laugh as he shook his head,” Well, I didn’t mean to scare you. I was hoping to do the opposite actually. I was calling your name earlier but I guess you were too busy talking about...me.”

You pressed your lips together as you tried to avoid his gaze, as if that would help the blush fade away,” Yeah, about that, Kim was just telling me that you were planning to go to some party this weekend. Apparently, your band is playing right?”

You looked over your shoulder to look up at Kim but she was nowhere to be seen. Coward.

“ Amber’s party, yeah,” Josh said as you neatly put your stack of papers into your binder,” I didn’t mean to eavesdrop but were you saying that you aren’t going?”

Your heart skipped a beat as you looked up at Josh and you felt stupid for feeling so nervous around him.

 By all means, you were not in love with him and saying that he was your crush was pushing it a bit.

All you knew was that apparently, Josh had been asking about you and that alone made something inside of you click.

You cleared your throat as you nodded, tearing your eyes away from his,” I mean, I would love to go but I might have plans.”

“ That’s too bad, I was kinda hoping I would see you there,” Josh said quietly, his face slightly flushed,” but don’t worry about it. I’m sure whatever you have going on is more important than just some party.”

You didn’t even realize you were both reaching for the same page of notes until his hand rested against yours for a moment. Your heart stopped as you waited for him to pull his hand away but he kept it on top of yours.

After a few seconds passed, Josh held your hand tightly as he helped you stand up again. He gave your hand one last squeeze before he let his hand fall to the side.

What the hell is happening?

As much as you wanted to go to the party, all you could think about was Peter. You knew that more than ever, he needed you and if your dad needed your help in the lab, you wanted to be there.

Then, as if your mind was telling you to reconsider, it pushed forward the conversation you had with Peter before he made contact with the lovedust.

“ You wasted your whole high school years on never accomplishing anything. You never went to a single party, you never passed your drivers test, and you’ve never even had a boyfriend before.”

A part of you couldn’t even believe Peter would ever say something like that because of how obsessed he is over you. Yet, that memory of Peter was only a few days ago.

You couldn’t just let it all go, you knew he was capable of saying hurtful things and for once, you didn’t want to worry about someone else.

For the first time ever, you were going to be selfish.

“ Maybe I can stop by to say hi or something to listen to your band,” You said as you watched him smile back,” but I can’t promise anything.”

Josh flipped his blazer over his shoulder and smirked,” Too late, I’m already looking forward to seeing you there.”

Josh gave a small wave before walking back over to his friends who were leaned up against the lockers. As you walked away, you felt like a huge weight had been lifted off of your shoulders.

When you got to the front doors, you looked out the windows and watched the rain quietly. Of course, Peter was right.

You had planned to walk to the subway station after school since you knew your dad would be too busy fixing Peter to pick you up but if you would have known it was going to rain, you would’ve asked Kim to take you home.

You opened up the glass doors and held your textbook over your head, thankful for once that Mr. Carter had assigned homework from this mammoth of a book.  As you made your way down the stairs, you spotted a familiar face waiting on the bench in the courtyard with an umbrella.

“ Peter?” You called out as his head snapped up to see you,” what are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be in the lab?”

Peter stood up and held the umbrella closer to you so you wouldn’t get wet and rubbed the back of his neck.

“ Your dad and Banner have been running tests on me all morning so they sent me to my room to rest for a bit. But then I saw that you forgot your umbrella and I didn’t want you to walk to the subway in the rain,” Peter said as the two of you shared the umbrella,” so here I am.”

“ You didn’t have to come all this way...but thank you,” You said as the two of you walked out the gates. 

Peter smiled as you interlocked your arms with him to get closer. As the two of you made your way across town, you both exchanged how your day went but when it came to talking about yours,  you purposely left out the part about Josh and the party.

You didn’t know why you would even keep it from him but you just kept telling yourself that what Peter didn’t know, couldn’t hurt him. Plus, if Peter found out about your interaction with Josh, there could be a possibility that he would be on a whole other level of jealousy and frankly, you didn’t have the time.

“ So, I read your note,” You said as you felt Peter tense up beside you,” you said you’d make it up to me and now I’m intrigued. What did you have in mind?”

“ A lot of things, if we’re thinking about someplace romantic there’s this-” Peter stopped himself and shook his head before taking a breath,” sorry. I’m just trying to get better at controlling what I say around you. I was just going to say that there’s this place around the corner that makes really good milkshakes and I thought it would be a nice date- as friends! Just friends. Unless you want to- fuck! I’m sorry Y/N, I’m just going to shut up now.”

You couldn’t stop yourself from letting out a small laugh as Peter shook his head,” You’re such a sap, Parker. It really is never a dull moment with you.”

Peter opened up the diner doors and as soon as you stepped in, you felt like you had been transported back in time.

The floor was sketched in the iconic black and white checkered print and the platinum bar had bright red stools along the outside. 

Just from your spot in the front, you could smell the peppermint disinfectant that they used to wipe down the tables but you were most focused on the jukebox in the corner as a Ritchie Valens song started to play in the background.

“ How did you find this place?” You asked as Peter led you to one of the booths in the corner of the diner.

“ I always knew about it but I figured it wouldn’t be fun without bringing someone along,” Peter admitted as you looked around at the old, decorative records across the wall,” I know how much you like those old movies so I thought it would be nice to take you back to the fun part of the 50s without the, you know, racism.”

You shook your head laughing as you turned your attention to the menu,” Nothing says the 50s like institutionalized racism and systemic oppression of women.”

Once the waitress arrived at the booth, Peter ordered a milkshake for the two of you to share and while you felt yourself falling deeper into the cliche, you couldn’t oppose since he was paying.

When the waitress left, Peter turned back to you and rested his hands on the table nervously. You couldn’t even imagine what he was thinking about but that in itself made you stand up straighter.

“ Can I ask you something? You don’t have to answer it if you don’t want to but I’m just curious,” You asked as Peter nodded enthusiastically.

“ What does the lovedust feel like?” You asked as Peter raised his eyebrow,” I mean, how does it make you feel... about me?”

Peter felt the inside of his mouth dry up as he croaked,” Do you mean- are you asking me what it feels like to be in love with you? Because honestly Y/N,  it feels so weird-”

“ Being in love with me is weird?”

“ Well yeah! Wait no! No, it’s not weird!” Peter stammered as you watched him get more and more nervous,” it’s not weird to love you but my body feels weird around you. My hands are constantly sweaty and clammy and sometimes it’s hard to even focus on small things like breathing. I can’t even shower without thinking of you- not like that- well kinda like that- but every time I have a quiet moment to myself, all my mind wants to think about is you. When your dad was running tests on me this morning, all I could think about was how you two shared the same last name and one day-hopefully-I can change your last name to Parker- okay see I can’t stop what comes out of my mouth when I’m on a roll!”  

As your mind started to break down every sentence he said, the waitress gave Peter a strange look before placing the milkshake in front of the two of you.

“ Wow, okay that was... a lot. You could’ve left out about half of that but I’ll give you a pass because I feel sorry for you,” You admitted as you took the paper wrapping off of the straw and dipped it into your milkshake,” but is there anything else? Like is there any part of you that still hates me? Or is it all gone because of the lovedust?”

Peter furrowed his eyebrows as you leaned over to take a sip,” Hate you? I never hated you Y/N.”

You pulled your lips away from the straw and sat back,” What do you mean you never hated me? I’m pretty sure you hated me, we were so mean to each other. Like our relationship was toxic as hell.”

Peter lightly banged his straw against the table and tore off the paper around the straw without looking at you.

“ I never hated you. Was I a huge dick to you? Of course I was. Was it entertaining watching you air out your room after I left smoke bombs in it before your friends came over? Kinda yeah. But I never did it because I hated you. I would never do those things out of pure malice but...it’s hard for me to look back and imagine us hating each other when I’m head over heels for you now,” Peter sighed as he started playing with the wrappings of the straw.

It was hard to believe that after all this time Peter never hated you because there were countless times for you where you really hated him and planned to murder him in his sleep without a second thought.

“ I’m not going to lie, I hated you. Some days, you made me feel so shitty about myself that I would cry underneath my covers so no one could hear,” You revealed to him as Peter felt a wave of sadness wash over him,” After a while, I wasn’t even sad anymore I was just so exhausted. I felt like I always had to be on my toes around you just in case you would pull something on me and to make sure you would never make me cry again, I knew I would always have to have the upper hand.”

You watched Peter almost sulk back into his seat, his mind swarming with memories of how awful he really was to you,” Y/N, I am so sorry I ever treated you like that. I never knew I made you cry. I know I’m sick with the powder but even if I wasn’t, I would still feel as miserable as I do right now...I’m a monster aren’t I?”

You wanted to be as honest as possible with Peter but in the state that he was in at the moment, you weren’t sure if he was in the right mental headspace to hear any harsh criticism.

“ We were both monsters...but now we’re different. This is the first time in years where I’ve actually enjoyed your company and while I’m not ready to start picking out baby names or whatever you’re trying to do with me, I like what we have. I just hope that when you get cured, things don’t have to change, you know?” You said as you reached across the table and opened up your hand.

You never knew how important starting over was until now and you knew that no matter what, Peter would always be in your life. The only question was what he really meant to you but at this moment, you didn’t have an answer and it was okay.

Peter looked down at it and hesitantly held it, his fingers caressing over your knuckles lightly as he inhaled deeply,” As long as you’re in my life, things don’t have to change.”

You squeezed his hand as you leaned in to take another sip. When you pulled away, you leaned back into your seat as you playfully sighed,” You know, I can’t decide if I’m weirded out or flattered by your comments lately but at the same time, I kinda wanna just open the flood gates and see what kind of crazy stuff you say so I can blackmail you later on.”

Peter only shook his head as his face started to grow flushed,” Y/N, please,  if I could control my mouth, I would. Once I start talking, every single thought in my mind surges with your face and how I feel like how fucking amazing you look in your uniform-”

“ Nope, nuh-uh, we can stop it right there pervert.”

@eridanuswave​ @juliet-winterson​ @akacalumtrash​ @ilovepeterparker13​

@parkerboop​ @juliebean247​ @multi-fan-lover​ @ffffan-----girlll @lukesbabylon​

@danicarosaline​ @parkeret​ @marvel4geeks​ @hollander69​ @spideyyeet​ @spn-assemble-seven​ @vibraniumdaisies​ @spaghetittiesbcimgay​ @vi-bi-bye

@lemonsnips​ @aduky​ @faithfullcompanion​ @stopthemotherfuckingmusic 

@satellitespidey @foreverpark​ @marvelobsessedteenager​ @deadpoetsbackup

@zalladane​ @starcourt-s​ @parkersinfinitywar​ @stargazingcarol​ @littlesugarb​

@itsteph13​ @jennasmmith​ @liljennyx3​ @harryspet​  @todaynotseen @oh-whatabeautiful-parker​  @tiny-friggin-human @ popluckbih    niiight-dreamerrrr     sovereignparker  marie-is-in-the-dark  buckyboy-soldier   maia030   parkershoco  wolverinesbeer   cherrysruin  sunkissdes  kiainspace  songofcosplay  spideylovin  write-from-the-heart  thatcrazywhovian09   eternallyvenus  thollandx msrawog  idiosadeoro  imawkwardandhereweare  foundwolves  thequeen-oni  silverwolf-sama  inspiring-bea  multiversegalaxygirl   lastupidebitchette idekwho1am

[becausethathappens]

Spare Change

4k - college - Link is furious, so Rhett tries to calm him down.

For @peachworthy​ and anyone else who thinks swearing is hot.

-

Link is mad.

Link is pacing.

Rhett tries to help.

“Why don’t you just scream into a pillow, like you always do?” Rhett offers.

“I did that!” Link cries. He makes a show of going over and doing it again. Rhett can’t help his instinct to recoil at seeing his friend yell like that. 

Link’s car has been towed. Link can’t go on a date with the girl he’s been trying to court all week. 

On top of that: Link doesn’t have a credit card (all he’s got is cash) and it says right on the tow sign they don’t deal in it. Somehow Link missed the whole thing, the first time around, when he parked wrong or whatever. But now going to have to borrow his Mama’s card just to get the truck out of impound. 

All this and he still has to cancel on his date tonight.

“I didn’t even see a line!” he yells again, recounting the events that have unfolded. “How am I supposed to take their word for it without a picture, either! And like I said, if you can’t see the line, how are you gonna know when you’ve crossed it?!” he decries.

They’ve towed his car because he parked outside the student residential boundary lines on the main street. Everyone knows this is how the city of Raleigh makes most it’s coin. Shoving parking tickets on unsuspecting co-eds.

Link never thought they’d tow his freaking car, though.

Well, his truck. To be specific.

He feels stifled, cornered, and hot. Very hot. His skin is boiling, red and he wants to punch the pillow he’s just released after screaming into it. 

His only permanent means of escape.

At least, unless he borrows Rhett's car.

“I can’t believe they wouldn’t even give me a warning! Or wait five minutes! I was only in rec center for ten minutes picking up freakin’ — these freakin’ things,” Link spits the words as he picks up and tosses the flowers back down on his desk.

They’re rumpled, now, with his tense hold and actions. Rhett gets up and fidgets with them, trying to smooth the foliage back into the nice shape it started in.

“Link, it’s okay, Lindsey is gonna understand,” Rhett explains.

“It’s not — it’s — there’s — why’s it always —  I’M SO MAD!” Link ends with, apoplectic and beyond any other way to articulate it.

“That’s okay!” Rhett tells him, since he has every right to be upset. 

“I...! Ughhhh!”  He walks over and bangs his right Reebok heel against the closet door once for good measure.

It makes a noisy sound as it bends at the overhead slide hinge that keeps it on track. Link kicks it again, seeming pleased with the audible response from the wood bending and cracking loudly in the room, like a smack to the face.

“Link!” Rhett reprimands, sure that they’ll be in trouble with their resident advisor for damaging property if Link keeps it up. 

“I’m sorry, I just! I just wanna — ‘s just been one thing after another, this year!” Link growls, continuing his pacing and returning to the wooden door again. “I’m just so — so — ARRGH!” Link fumes and before Rhett can jump up to intervene, he watches his friend punch the door.

“FFF—reak! Dang it!” Link screams.

Rhett watches, eyes wide.

“Shit!” Link yells as it hits. It gives with a loud, snap-crack and Rhett’s mouth makes a perfect “o” in reaction. 

Link’s hand goes to his mouth catching his own language. “Shit!” he cries again like he can’t stop, muffled by his hand. 

Afterwards, he’s panting and Rhett is left standing to the side staring in a bit of awe. He didn’t know Link had that in him, to be honest. “Shit, there’s a hole!” Link exclaims.

Their eyes both guiltily dart to the half-filled swear jar on Link’s desk. Usually he’s the one keeping after Rhett for saying “Hell!” or “Damn!”

Although Rhett’s said all the bad words, at some point or another, it is unlike either of them to spew out a ton of foul language in a string as Link has. 

“Swear jar?” Rhett says, mostly in question. He can tell Link’s much madder than the other times they’ve punished each other for cursing. His willingness to let it go is rife in his tone, but Link shakes his head, madder at himself for having swore and willing to pay the price.

He saunters over to his backpack and finds his wallet. “No, no, I earned it.” He tsks himself as he pulls out a few singles and strides over to the jar, tipping them in.

“You overpaid, there, bo,” Rhett advises, watching the bills settle. It was a quarter a word and Link put in three dollars. 

“‘S for the door,” Links says, shrugging. “I don’t know what the Hell I ‘s thinkin’!”

He closes his eyes. “And for that Hell, too,” he adds. “And that one!” He throws his hands up. “ARRgh!”

“Link!” Rhett yells as he slots another single dollar bill, adding to the overpayment, but cushioning the extra curses all the same. “Link, it’s — you — it’s fine!”

“It’s not fine!” Link yells. “I’m screwed. And now I’m cursing like a sailor watchin’ my favorite football team lose the playoffs!”

Rhett makes a face. “What, we talkin’ the Army-Navy game, or what?”

“Damn it, Rhett!” Link snarls. Then he closes his eyes and makes a face at his own words. “Damn it, Rhett!” He paces around, throwing his hands back around, gesticulating. “I feel like I’m trapped in some sick dirty mouth loop!”

“That sounds… why does that sound worse than the cursing?” Rhett says, joking. “Maybe you should add another dollar?”

Link sighs, dramatically, and does so. 

“Link, I was — you don’t have to actually — Link, it’s okay!” Rhett stammers out, eyes bright. He comes at Link with his hand out, like he’s asking to be heard out. “You had a horrible day, you should be allowed to vent a little!”

“Vent a little?!” Link shoots back. “I put a hole in the door!”

“Yeah, okay, maybe that wasn’t your finest moment, but you’re pissed!” Rhett explains. “I get it!”

Link throws his hands up as if to say, at least there’s that and not much else.

“You should get a pass.”

“A pass?” Link questions.

“Yeah, just for tonight.” Rhett puts his hands on his hips. “You already paid for a week’s worth of curses with my exchange rate,” Rhett jokes. 

Rhett didn’t curse much, but all the other money in the jar was his. Link’s never so much as taken the Lord’s name in vain before.

Link spares a sidelong glance and hustles back over to his backpack to return his wallet. 

“Go ahead, man, you’ve earned it. Blow off some steam!” Rhett advises.

“So, you just want me to start cursing?” Link asks, joking with a touch of condescension. “Like some — some degenerate?”

“Degenerate?” Rhett asks, laughing. “Who said anything about being a degenerate?”

“That’s who curses, Rhett!”

Rhett looks Link over and decides to try and get his mind off what’s eating him by messing with him. His favorite pastime. 

“You should say the ‘F’ word, Link,” Rhett urges, suddenly, overcome with the desire to corrupt Link. He’s a bit ashamed of it, but another side of him insists that it would be hilarious to see Link snap and start saying filthy things, even for just one night. 

Hearing him say Shit! is enough to get Rhett interested in hearing more.

Link frowns. “Fornicate?”

Rhett smirks. “Yeah, but the bad version.”

Link’s eyes go wide. “Rhett!” he puts a hand to his chest, finally settling on a posture that indicates he’s nearly at his wit’s end. Rhett beams at him. 

This is as much about teasing Link to take a night off being Mr. Perfect as it is about Rhett noticing that Link screaming Shit! also did a lot to calm him down. If he curses more, maybe he’ll feel better altogether. Plus, as established, Rhett found it hilarious to watch unfold.

In his opinion, it’s certainly worth a shot.

“C’mon, Link — let one rip!” Rhett teases and Link’s brows furrow.

Unfortunately, Rhett’s efforts to cheer him up are doing the opposite for his mood in the meantime. Link looks actively annoyed at the supposition.

“Will you please — ? We’ve established I’m having a terrible enough night as it is and I don’t need your added bull —” Link stops, then goes silent off at Rhett’s delighted expression.

“My what?” Rhett teases more. “My bullshit?”

Link’s eyes flick to the jar. Rhett makes a show of grabbing a quarter from his laundry money holder on his own desk and walking over to put it in the jar. 

“Yeah, that,” Link bullies. 

“Well, too dang bad, Link,” Rhett says, splaying his arms wide and taking in that Link is at least partly distracted from his terrible night, even while he spoke of it. “Rules are that so long as I pay up, I’m fine.”

Link huffs.

“This is —” Link starts, voice rising again in agitation.

“Uh, huh,” Rhett encourages.

“You’re such a —” Link begins and ends. Rhett’s eyebrows and eyes both dart up then turn crooked, waiting for any addition to that comment, but it never arrives.

Link starts pacing again, faster, back and forth between the dorm beds and their door. 

Rhett merely nods, waiting for more.

Finally, something in Link stops him in his tracks. Whether it’s the constant grinning nods from Rhett to egg him on, the long itinerary of Bad Things that keep on Happening, or just that Link is filled with an urge to punch the closet door again and he knows he can’t do that. 

So, he snaps, “IT IS BULLSHIT!” full volume at Rhett.

Rhett’s head nods even more swiftly, taking a deeper path up and down, like he’s bobbing over steady waves to stay afloat.

“IT’S ALL BULLSHIT!” Link repeats at the same charged decibel.

Rhett still nods more, as if to tell him to elaborate further, but Link’s anger stagnates his thinking. He just wants to keep screaming that, so he does. “IT’S ALL SUCH BULLSHIT!”

“Yeah, it is!” Rhett calls back at him, like he’s cheering him on in the stands.

“And you?!” Rhett puts a hand on his own chest as if to answer silently who me? Link’s, fired up again and pointing in Rhett’s direction. “You don’t get to have fun with this, you’re — you’re just as bad!”

“YEAH! I AM!” Rhett calls out, uncaring about being thrown into the mix as well.

“When you drove us to the rec center last weekend, we double-parked with our hazards on and took twice as long!”

Rhett exclaims, “We did!” in agreement.

“ASSHOLE!” Link yells at him.

Rhett nods. 

Link tears his fingers through his hair, overwhelmed at how out of hand his words have gotten, so quickly. His eyes stray back to the swear jar where he knows he has at least a few words to go. Disturbing though the thought, he considers also that he has more money in his wallet. 

He knows how far he’s strayed, already, from that change in priorities alone. When he looks back at Rhett, who is still giddy, waiting for him to say more, he gives up. 

“Fuck,” he mutters, in absolution.

Rhett gasps. 

He’s been waiting for Link to say that, most of all, and is shocked by how quickly they’ve arrived there. Hearing it spoken so casually, on top of it all.

“Fuck,” Link repeats again, in surprise that the word actually tumbled out of his mouth so smoothly.

“I don’t even think I’ve ever hardly thought that word before, let alone said it, now I can’t f — fuck, now I can’t stop!” Link growls at Rhett, furious at his role in what feels like a downfall.

Rhett is still aghast. His mind racing. 

He’s been waiting for the delivery and is amazed to hear Link actually do it. His mind has been picturing this as a funny joke, but Link is just standing there, mad, yelling fuck, again and again, accusatory. Rightly so. 

Rhett knows he drove Link to this, in part for his own amusement, but it doesn’t feel funny at all anymore. His cheeks feel warm.

Link’s face reddens further at Rhett’s lack of response. 

He gets up in Rhett’s face and Rhett feels himself start to back up so quickly he nearly stumbles to sit on the bed. He needs to concede this fight because it’s clear there’s a lot more pent up anger than he’s realized inside Link. 

He thinks back to the door and looks around. That did calm him briefly, but surely he can’t just punch the door again. “You should yell,” Rhett ekes out the next best thing. What Link shouted after the punch. “Yell it.”

He means the f-word, still. The way Link is saying it, it feels immoral to be saying it, too.

“FUCK!” Link yells, at his continued badgering, whether it’s in fulfillment of his request or not, Rhett couldn’t say. His body shudders in fear at how loud and direct an outburst that was.

Now, he’s worried their dorm mates are going to think they’re in an all-out fight. Rhett’s eyes scan the bed and he grabs a pillow. “Yell into this,” he offers, handing the pillow over.

Link, still looking annoyed, takes the pillow. He shoves his face against it and screams, “FUCK!” at what must be the very top of his lungs.

Rhett has to brace himself against the top bunk. He’s waiting for the punchline. 

It still hasn’t come.

Link, meanwhile, has pulled his bright red face from the pillow and takes in air in pants, looking over at Rhett. Rhett is sure he’s never looked so tough, so masculine, so — Rhett’s stomach lurches.

He knows that can’t be healthy. To consider any of those traits as a burly or cool, but he’s too concerned with why they’re making his insides tingle to interrogate it much for himself.

He offers to take the pillow back and Link hands it to him. Instead of putting it on the bed, Rhett holds it in his hands. He’s speechless, he thinks, but his head is pounding too hard to know why his mind directs him to his next request. Muscle memory, perhaps. 

Normally, Rhett would wrestle with Link until he got the anger out, but that feels absolutely impossible to initiate right now. With Link this mad, somehow Rhett worries that even being bigger and heavier, Link would find a way to win that match, looking as livid as he does.

 “Um,” Rhett starts, unable to figure out what more to say, now that Link’s gone through all that. He holds up the pillow. “Punch this,” Rhett says, not thinking about the fact that said pillow is still in his grip. He’s more focused on the mental image of sweaty, angry Link punching things again.

It’s what helped him relieve tension before, after all.

So, he pushes the pillow forward again, centering it where Link can take an easy swing in the middle and miss Rhett’s hands entirely, and waits for Link to make a move.

Soon, Link does swing, deftly, landing a soft punch on the object with a huff. Rhett can see some of the tension lock up and release from his shoulders. It’s not gone, but it must be helping. Rhett knows shooting hoops when he’s pissed always did the trick.

Link then punches again, firmer, this time, shouting, “Fuck!” along with his movements.

Then again, then a third and fourth time, until the pillow gives way and flies back towards the chair behind where Rhett stands. “Shit!” Link calls, watching it settle on the desk chair to their right. 

Rhett considers that is likely to keep happening, once Link builds back to that momentum, so he turns back and squares up. He holds a palm out behind another palm. He doesn’t ask, but Link can tell he’s being told to punch into Rhett’s open hand like it’s a boxing or pitching warm-up.

Link pulls back and slams his fist into Rhett’s palm. The taller of the two staggers back, but doesn't flinch. He puts his hand back in the same spot waiting for another. Link gives just as hard again. 

On the third hit, Rhett finally falters. The sting of the punch is too much for him to let on as harmless, when he waves his hands around the air to ease the throb. He grabs a throw blanket and drapes it two or three times around his upper chest, then motions for Link to aim there instead. 

Link gets a good hit in and Rhett is sure this way is going to last even less than his naked hand did, but he has to try to keep at it. Link is so angry, but he looks so good hitting like this, like he could star in a cologne ad or work at Abercrombie & Fitch at the mall. Rhett has to let him get the tension out. 

That’s Rhett’s job as his best friend.

Eventually, the pain is too much and he needs a break. Rhett puts a hand up in pause and sits himself on the bottom bunk and waits for Link to say something. They’re both panting with the same amount of exertion they use when they wrestle, but they still have all their clothes on.

For some reason, Rhett’s mind takes note of that.

He realizes he’s been staring at Link when Link starts to return the gaze. “Why’re you looking at me like that?” Link asks. 

Rhett blushes. “Like what?” He can’t see his face to know.

“Like I’m a sideshow exhibit,” Link tells him, throwing his hands back up in derision. “Or — or, I don’t know a piece of undercooked meat, almost.”

“What?” Rhett asks, blanching.

“Like you’re sizing me up to fight,” Link clarifies. 

Fight — Rhett considers. Quite the opposite. His mind thought Link meant piece of meat — to bite. Which sent a chill up his spine. “I-I wasn’t…”

“You were!” Link says, still crackling with tension. Rhett doesn’t have any part of his body to absorb it, any longer, he feels useless to help.

“Link…” Rhett starts to say, looking up at Link. Link still has an arm on the top bunk but now he’s leaning down a little, friendly but threatening, and Rhett’s insides start to turn over in knots. 

“You want to pound me, admit it!” Link says, impatiently.

“What?!” Rhett replies, stunned.

“You,” Link says, pointing at Rhett. “Want to pound me,” he starts only to stop and point at himself. “It’s clear as day on your face.”

“What?!” Rhett yells at him. 

“You want to pound me, Rhett. You’re so predictable,” Link elaborates, plainly. “Go ahead!”

Rhett’s eyes nearly bug out of his head. “Link, I-I…” Rhett trails off, his face blotchy and drawn.

“C’mon,” Link begs, leaning forward down at Rhett, taunting him. “Hit me!”

Rhett registers his words, understanding finally that he means to physically fight him, not to pound him as in fuck him. In Rhett’s defense, that word has been thrown around pretty casually for the first time ever and he’s racing to keep up with everything Link is doing.

Unfortunately, Rhett comes to this conclusion after he’s already leaned upwards and started kissing Link on the mouth. 

Once he’s there, realizing the grave error he’s made, he breaths a huff of air in humility as he feels Link’s mouth open in turn. Then Link’s tongue darts out to push into his. 

As the wet tip bursts in and out, rapidly, and Rhett contemplates that it’s like Link is still hitting him, in this tiny only-in-his-mouth kind of way. So, maybe Link was right and he did want to pound him but only via the mouth. Since it also felt so good, Rhett starts returning the kiss, rapid pace, and pulling Link closer. 

Link groans under his guidance, but it’s a good groan. Link rests a thigh over each of Rhett’s and sinks back on his knees, sitting over Rhett, as they continue to twist tongues. Rhett doesn’t know what to do with his hands, so he moves them around to Link’s back and they naturally drift towards gripping his ass while he holds him.

Link moans into his mouth at the feeling.

Eventually, Link pulls back, leaning so there’s enough space to speak his shock. 

“Fuck, Rhett,” Link mutters. Rhett feels his dick throb and thrust up towards Link’s lap as he shifts. Rhett’s not sure when he got this hard, but it suddenly feels like he has a steel rod stuffed down his sweats. “What are we doing?” Link breathes out. “Was that — were we just kissin’? What the Hell is going on?” Link questions, desperate and aroused.

Rhett humps up another time and Link keens at the sensation. 

“I think my body just wanted to help relieve the tension of, uh, you know, all that anger and — " Rhett starts to explain, but he’s helpless to the feeling of Link rolling around in his lap and generating even more friction between their overlapping arousal. “Guess it preferred the idea of this over punching you.”

Link rocks his hips and giggles through his own enjoyment as he watches Rhett squirm. “I’m a little biased, but yeah,” Link says, grinding down more. “This does beat a punch in the face, I’ll give you that.”

They’re both panting and rubbing on each other more before Rhett reaches down to touch Link. “Honestly, I think I could —” Link says, grinding with extra effort in a way that makes Rhett feel Link’s erection evidently as it presses against his midsection. He grinds back into that area specifically.

“Yeah, same,” Rhett agrees, circling his hips in time with Link’s.

Nothin’ like some good old dry humping, for what ails ‘ya, he figures. 

Link leans down and either forgetting his initial shock or abandoning it, he captures Rhett’s mouth in another kiss. 

Before long, they start gasping for air from one another’s open mouths while their faces stay pressed together but not kissing, as they grind harder and harder where they sit. 

Rhett reaches a hand down and fondles them both at once, rubbing his sweats against Link’s khakis. Link throws his head back in pleasure. “Feel better?” he asks, hoping this has been as erotic and pleasurable for Link as it has been for him.

“Oh, shit, Rhett, yeah,” Link moans, waist canting in time with Rhett’s motions. While gripping Link’s ass, Rhett’s moved his right hand up his back to steady him with how harsh the kisses are, each time. The hand that moved to Link’s back has stayed under his tank and drifts to his front. Rhett feels around for a nipple and squeezes once when it finds purchase. 

“Oh, fuck, yeah, just like that, oh my God, fuck, FUCK!” Link bellows out, suddenly aware that Rhett is sucking kisses into his jaw and throat as his other hand, the one not on the nipple, still squeezes his ass.

“I’m gonna — I can’t stop — I’m about to,” Link begins several attempts to warn Rhett, but comes before he can finish or Rhett can respond.

Rhett’s eyes go fully wide again, in amazement, feeling Link’s dick throb and spurt laid against his own. It’s enough added heat and friction that he feels his own orgasm begin to crest unexpectedly. He hasn’t come that quick in years. Maybe ever.

Link pants through his come down, but doesn’t move to get off Rhett right away. They both remain still, clutching each other as they sit tangled limb over limb. 

“D-Did we just have sex?” Link asks, mortified, but still draped over Rhett.

“Technically,” Rhett confirms. “But it was non-penetrative, so we’re still good, I think.”

“Oh, okay, yeah,” Link says back, his eyes far off. 

“You sure that’s okay?” Rhett asks, looking for Link to meet his gaze and assure him that is.

He does, but he speaks his mind, to clarify anything not given away by his crooked grin. “No, I was askin’ ‘cause I wanna do it again.”

Rhett’s eyes light up.

“A lot,” Link explains. 

“Fuck,” Rhett moans, softly, brushing a thumb to Link’s lower lip. 

He joins their mouths again.

Link cuts the kiss short, with a hand between them, however, and gives Rhett a stern look. Rhett knows in that moment and any proceeding it, he’ll do anything Link asks of him. 

Rhett’s glazed eyes spin focus to Link’s face again to figure out what that will be this time. Link nods his head towards the half-empty jar on his desk. 

“Pay up.”