#oh my god wait maybe i can hang them all on my rearview mirror...

[officialgleamstar]

anyone else making wise financial decisions today (spending $38 to get a full set of those dndads keychains)

[maswritingblog]

The Arrangement - Part Six

Summary: Lucy navigates her emotions and Marcus has a surprise.

Warnings: Conversations about pregnancy, Smut (18+ ONLY), Emotions.

A/N: Surprise! I'm so sorry it took so long to get this posted. I realized today that part five was posted in December 2022 and that's absolutely insane. Thank you to everyone who has been waiting patiently for this, and to those who still engage with me and my content even as I haven't been posting. I appreciate you all, and I hope you enjoy.

A/N 2: This is a reader fic but I have chosen a random name for the reader as that is the way I like to write. I give no descriptions of the reader, so feel free to picture "Lucy" any way you want!

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Friends raising a kid together.

That was the deal.

And yet as Lucy sat in her car in Marcus’s driveway waiting for him to arrive, she found herself questioning everything. What happened next? Where did they stand now that she was pregnant? They’d agreed to an arrangement to conceive, and they had done so, but she hadn’t expected things to change so much in the process. Maybe it was foolish of her to assume that she would be able to sleep with her friend for several weeks without developing feelings; maybe it was foolish to assume she could get through this and come out on the other side the same.

Part of her wondered if Marcus felt any different about her. He tended to wear his emotions on his sleeve and get caught up in them easily, but somehow she wasn’t sure where she stood with him. Either he’d learned to hide his emotions better than he let on, or he didn’t feel anything new for her at all. Maybe he was better suited for this type of arrangement than she was, surprising as that may be.

The crunch of tires on the pavement alerted her to his arrival and she took a few deep breaths to pull herself together.

“Okay, you can do this, Luce,” she whispered to herself in the rearview mirror. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”

Sighing softly, she stepped out of her car and followed Marcus up the driveway to his front door. He held the takeout bag in one hand as he slid the key into the lock and opened the door. As much as she was looking forward to some pancakes to cure her sweets craving, part of her wanted to take the bag and leave before she had to have an awkward conversation.

She followed him inside, kicking off her shoes and hanging her jacket as she usually did. Marcus placed the food on the coffee table before taking off his own shoes and coat. Lucy went to the kitchen for plates and cutlery and brought them into the living room.

“I got those strawberries you like.” He commented as he sat on the couch, loosening his tie until he could pull it over his head, ruffling his hair in the process.

“Mmm, thank you.”

Lucy kneeled on the floor on the opposite side of the table and opened the takeout bag, the sweet smell of pancakes hitting her nose. Although it made her salivate, the smell of Marcus’s bacon that followed immediately made her stomach turn.

“Oh, god.” She gasped, bringing a hand up to cover her mouth.

Marcus’s eyebrows furrowed deeply. “What’s wrong? You okay?” he asked urgently.

Swallowing thickly, she nodded. “Sorry, I guess bacon is off limits now.”

Standing, he reached into the bag and pulled out the container with the offending meat and took it into the kitchen without a word. When he came back, he had a glass of water that he held out to her.

“Sorry,” she swallowed again, taking the water to wash down the taste of bile in her throat.

He shook his head. “Don’t apologize. I had a friend who couldn’t stand the smell of cooked meat when she was pregnant. We’ll just have to figure out what sets you off and what doesn’t.”

She should have known he’d be understanding; there was no universe where Marcus Pike wasn’t understanding and attentive to the ones he cared about. It was probably only going to be amplified now that she was pregnant. She wasn’t sure why that overwhelmed her.

“Pancakes still sound good?” He asked, reaching into the bag for the container. “Or I guess ‘smell good’?”

“Thankfully, yes.”

They ate in silence for a bit. Lucy wondered what was going through his mind, wondered if it was anything close to what she had been thinking about in the car. Did she even need to bring it up to him? Or was he under a completely different impression? She supposed the only way to find out was to ask, but that seemed so terrifying.

“What are you thinking about?” Marcus finally broke the silence.

Lucy hummed around her bite of pancake. “Hmm?”

He set his fork down in his empty take out container and gave her his full attention. “Luce, you’ve got your thinking face on. What’s up?”

Well, shit. She had hoped she could avoid any awkward conversation tonight, but she forgot how attentive he could be, how much he paid attention.

Maybe she could avoid talking about that though.

Shrugging, she pushed the last bite of pancake through the sticky syrup on the bottom of the container. “Big changes. Easy to have a lot on your mind.” She hoped the vague answer would be enough.

She should have known better. Marcus nodded slowly, eyes flickering over her face as he studied her closely. Finally, he leveled her with a soft yet serious stare. “Lucy.”

It was just her name, but she could tell he knew there was something more to it by the way he said it. She could feel anxiety bubbling inside her at the thought of explaining to him what was on her mind. But she knew she needed to behave like an actual adult and speak with him instead of keeping it bottled up.

When she didn’t respond right away, Marcus’s brow furrowed. “You’re not…you’re not having second thoughts, are you?” he asked, his voice small as if the thought terrified him.

Lucy’s eyes widened. That had never crossed her mind, there was no way she’d back out of this situation; she would never do that to him. Shaking her head, she rose from her spot on the floor and moved to sit beside him on the couch, her hands reaching out to grasp his arm.

“Marcus, no. No second thoughts, no regrets, nothing. I’m having this baby…we’re having this baby.” She reassured him, holding his gaze so he would know she meant every word.

His deep brown eyes softened as the worry lessened, but he wasn’t completely reassured. “Then what’s going on, Luce? You look like something is bothering you.”

She sighed. There was no way to avoid it…but how did she ease into the subject?

“It’s not bothering me, it’s just something I started thinking about after the appointment.”

He nodded slowly, listening intently like he always did.

“I was just thinking about what the pregnancy means…for us.”

His brow furrowed again. “For us?”

“Okay,” Sighing again, she rose from the couch and began to pace the space in front of the coffee table. “I don’t want to make this weird or uncomfortable. I mean, we’re going to be raising a kid together and I don’t want to make that harder…” she was rambling now. “It’s just…maybe I don’t want this to just be friends raising a kid together. And that’s something I have to think about, because I knew what the deal was when we started this, and just because I feel differently doesn’t mean you do.”

How had she gone from deciding to put up boundaries to protect herself from getting hurt to confessing her feelings to him? Had those pancakes been laced with truth serum or something? Or was it just looking into Marcus’s kind eyes that had her willing to spill all her secrets? Maybe it was the hormones.

And now she’d probably made things awkward. How would he react to her confession? Would he let her down gently in the way only Marcus Pike could, or would he not know what to say and she’d have to leave and hope he just let her pretend none of this happened?

When she turned to pace back towards the front door, Marcus was suddenly there with his hands on her shoulders. “Lucy, take a breath.” He spoke softly.

She nodded, inhaled slowly, and reminded herself that she wasn’t just one person anymore.

He gave her shoulders a reassuring squeeze. “Good?”

“Yeah.”

There was a beat of silence. “Lucy, are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

Maybe she could play dumb her way out of this. “W-What do you think I’m saying?”

“That you have feelings for me.”

Well, nevermind.

She took in a deep breath before meeting his eyes, trying her best to not let her hormones get the best of her. Her eyes burned with unshed tears at the idea of him rejecting her, even if he did it nicely.

“Yeah, I think I do.” She whispered, feeling so small as she did so. “But…I understand that isn’t what you signed up for, so don’t worry about—”

“—Lucy,” he interrupted, his hands moving to cup her face. He let out an incredulous laugh, shaking his head slowly. “You have no idea how happy I am to hear that. I have been trying so hard to not let you see that this has changed things for me. I didn’t want to make you upset, but I think maybe I got in over my head with this arrangement. I don’t know why I thought that I could do this without falling more in love with you than I already was.”

She felt a lightening bolt shoot through her. “Y-You’re in love with me?” she gasped, the tears she had been fighting back prickling the corners of her eyes.

“I think since the moment I met you.” He murmured, thumb brushing back and forth on the apple of her cheek.

She didn’t know how to respond to that. He’d been in love with her the entire time, and here she was trying to hide her feelings to spare him any awkwardness. She let out a small, surprised laugh before reaching up to grip the collar of his shirt to tug his lips down to hers.

His arms dropped to wind around her waist, pulling her body flush against his as he deepened the kiss.

This had gone much better than she had expected and while they’d need to have an actual conversation about whatever they were at some point, she was more than happy to take this moment for what it was. Talk could come later; they had plenty of time for that.

She started backing towards the hallway, pulling him with her.

“What about your pancakes?” he chuckled, his mouth still pressed against hers like he couldn’t bear the thought of letting her go.

“Screw the pancakes.”

They stumbled down the hallway, Lucy’s fingers beginning to undo the buttons on his shirt and his began pulling her blouse from where it was tucked in her pants. As they reached his bedroom, she pushed his shirt off his shoulders and then lifted her arms to allow him to pull hers over her head.

They both made quick work of their pants and then she’d barely gotten her bra off before he was kissing her again. He stepped forward, leading her back towards the bed like they were dancing. He broke away to pull the blankets back on the bed and then they tumbled onto the mattress as their legs tangled, both laughing in surprise.

“Sorry, sorry.” He chuckled as he did his best to not land right on top of her.

Instead of responding, she pulled his mouth back down to hers and moving her legs to wrap them around his hips, letting out a soft moan as his hips met hers and she felt his hardness press against where she was already throbbing.

They’d had a lot of sex, but this felt different. Maybe it was because of her hormones, or maybe it was because they’d just confessed their love for each other. There was always something more special about being intimate with someone she cared deeply about, and knowing he cared for her just the same made it even more special.

He grinded against her and they moaned into each other’s mouths at the feeling. Lucy reached down to tug at his briefs and he propped himself up on one hand to help her push them down his hips. Once they were low enough he could kick them off, he sat up on his knees and helped her pull her underwear down her legs before slinging them over his shoulder to disappear somewhere across the room.

Lucy couldn’t hold in the giggle that came out at that, and she shook her head at him. Yeah, this was the man she had fallen in love with.

Marcus leaned down to press kisses to her stomach, lingering for a second on her lower abdomen before trailing kisses up the valley between her breasts. His lips found the spot he knew she liked behind her ear as his body slotted against hers.

Lucy’s hands trailed down his sides, nails raking his skin lightly the way she knew he liked. He groaned against her skin, hips involuntarily grinding against hers on reflex. She reached between their bodies and took ahold of him, turning her head to capture his mouth as he moaned. She took that moment to position him at her entrance, waiting for him to press his hips forward to press his tip in before she let go. Her hand came up to thread through his hair, tugging lightly at the roots as he slid deeper inside.

She could never get over the feeling of him, and she was grateful he didn’t want this to end; she was pretty sure he’d ruined her wanting any other man inside her.

They moaned into the kiss as he sheathed himself fully. She expected him to keep going, but then he pulled back to look down at her, his hips unmoving.

Her brow furrowed. “You okay?” she asked, still breathless from the feeling of being full.

Marcus’s hand came up to brush a strand of hair off her face, eyes softening as he studied her features.

“Marcus?”

His thumb brushed over her lower lip as he took a deep breath. “I love you.” He murmured softly, his voice thick.

Lucy’s heart skipped in her chest. It was one thing to hear him say he had fallen in love with her, and another to have him look deeply in her eyes and say those three little words. They hit her like a freight train. The hand that had been tangled in his hair moved to cup his jaw. “I love you, too.” She whispered.

He gave her that big grin she loved so much and leaned down to press a quick kiss to her lips, pulling back only far enough to lock eyes with her, his nose brushing against hers.

He shifted his hips, eyes never leaving hers as he pulled out and then pushed back in slowly. This wasn’t like they had done before; this wasn’t just sex.

They were making love.

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A/N: I know this probably felt finite, but I promise this is not the end! I just felt like that was the perfect end to part six, but I have more parts planned!

Tag List: Strikethrough means it wouldn't let me tag you.

The Arrangement: @moonlightburned @rebel-fanfare @supernaturalgirl20 @thevoiceinyourheadx @prideandpascal @nicolethered @littlemousedroid @theamuz @missminkylove @what-iwish-you-knew @amb11 @vanemando15 @paige96 @cleverusername027 @emilianamason @diaryofkali @thirddeadlysin @pedr0swh0r3 @we-were-owls

All current & future fics: @absurdthirst @sherala007 @athalien @hopeamarsu @adancedivasmom @gooddaykate @hotchlover @amneris21 @harriedandharassed @gzzzla

Please let me know if you want to be added or removed on the tag list or change your username in my tag list by visiting this link!

[collecting-stories]

Hey Stephen - Steve Harrington

Request: Hi, can I please have a ride based on Hey Stephen by Taylor Swift with Steve Harrington where the reader is Dustin's sister and Dustin's watching his sister crush on his best friend like "this is disgusting, but adorable"? @thecaptaingingersnap 

A/N: Sorry this took so long...I was kinda sick last week and struggled to get on. 

Stranger Things Masterlist

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

Your infatuation started long before your little brother somehow managed to become friends with one of Hawkin’s High school’s most popular students. It was probably around the time you sprained your ankle during gym class and Steve Harrington volunteered to take you to the nurse’s office so you could get iced up and call your mom.  

There in the nurse’s office, as he held a pack of ice to your ankle, you were positive, was exactly when the crush began. It lasted through girlfriends that he had, the few times that Carol and Tommy had set their sights on you during a class and Steve had rushed an apology as the bell rung and he followed them out, and now, his friendship with your brother. You weren’t even really sure how Steve had become friends with Dustin, or why for that matter, but you couldn’t help being a little thankful. Sure, most of the time when you knew he would be stopping by you were doing your best not to embarrass yourself but at least you got to see him right? Got to really actually talk to him.  

“You’re such a creep, you know that?” Dustin teased, standing in the kitchen doorway as he ate the pizza lunchable he had just constructed and watched you try to look natural as you glanced out the window for any sign of Steve’s car.

“I’m not a creep Dustin.” You insisted, “I’m waiting for our ride, like people do.”  

“Yeah, except normal people don’t stand at the window like they’re an axe murderer waiting for a victim.” He replied. He was all dressed up for the winter dance that you had somehow been roped into chaperoning. You knew Nancy would be there and, while you weren’t always the best of friends, she was nice and you could at least talk to her. Steve would be there, apparently, and he’d offered to drive you and Dustin there too.  

A dance for middle schoolers shouldn’t make you this anxious but you couldn’t help it. You felt like you were going to burst from excitement and nerves all at the same time.  

“I don’t wanna be late!” You snapped, turning to glare at him. You’d been ready for the last two hours, picking at your hair and dress, trying on three different pairs of shoes, reapplying mascara and lipstick, practically shaking. You wanted to look good, but for what? So Steve might, maybe, notice you? And not just as Dustin’s sister or that girl who couldn’t manage to run the mile in seventh grade but as an actual person who he maybe could like.

“Okay, okay, take a chill pill, god. You’re negative attitude is gonna deflate my hair.”

“I’ll deflate your hair if you don’t stop bothering me Dustin!”  

With your back turned to the window, headlights turned into your driveway and a horn echoed in the car port. Dustin smiled, mouthing a “showtime” as he tossed his trash in the bin and headed for the front door. You followed, grabbing your purse and trying to catch one last glimpse of your appearance in the mirror.  

“You look fine.” Dustin promised, grabbing your arm and dragging you out the front door. He didn’t wanna be late, especially not because of you and your weird Steve Harrington hang up. Will told him it was the same as him liking Max or Stacey but Dustin was unwilling to believe that explanation. It was just weird, his sister having a crush on his friend.  

“Hey Hendersons, ready to party?” Steve joked, leaning over the middle console to pop the passenger side door for you. Dustin climbed in the back seat and smiled, his reflection catching in the rearview mirror.

“I was born ready.” He replied, enthusiastically. “She was born with one leg up in the air.”

“It was the Olympics that year,” you shrugged, smacking your brother when he leaned between the seats, “I was getting a head start on gymnastics.”

Steve laughed as if that was the funniest thing anyone had ever told him, “that’s great.”

“So, are you excited about going to your sixth grade winter formal all over again?” You asked, twisting a little in your seat to focus on Steve as he drove.  

In the backseat, Dustin rolled his eyes.  

“I was gonna wear the same tux but, ya know, I got taller.” He joked.  

“I thought your hair just got higher.” Dustin teased and you couldn’t help laughing.  

“Ha ha you’re so funny.” Steve replied, “hey, smack your brother for me?”

You obliged, leaning over the seat to hit him. As you leaned passed the center console, you held the edge of Steve’s seat for stability, your arm brushing against his and your hair falling into his line of vision for a moment, curly strands tickling his cheek. He turned his head when the car stopped for a red light, watching you as you laughed at Dustin and pulled yourself away from him, falling back into your seat.  

Tommy and Carol always said you had a hopeless crush on Steve but he was always a little too preoccupied by the girls who were more vocal about their feelings. He remembered when Nancy first started flirting with him at a party. He’d felt a little “on top of the world” every time someone paid attention to him. Steve honestly couldn’t remember a time when you were throwing yourself at him though. You were always friendly, and he’d seen more of you this year as he found himself hanging out with Dustin in an unironic way, but he’d never really thought of you liking him. Even when Tommy and Carol first said it, he just brushed it off.  

“So, Henderson, you excited?” He asked, trying to get back some of that junior year cool he’d had.  

You raised an eyebrow at him and pointed to yourself, clarifying that it was you that he was talking to. When he nodded, you shrugged, “I guess.” You smiled at him as the light turned green, “I got a hot date after all.”

“What?”

“She promised Will she’d dance with him at least once.” Dustin replied. Out of all his friends, Will was your favorite. Much nicer than Lucas and Mike, not so self-centered.  

“Oh man, I can’t compete with that.” Steve laughed, “save me a dance though, will you?”

“I’ll try to pencil you in.” You replied, even as you felt your face get hot, flushed with the suggestion that the two of you might actually share a dance. You definitely shouldn’t be this excited about a dance for sixth graders.  

Dustin made an exaggerated gagging noise from the backseat, “disgusting, you guys are disgusting.” He stated, trying to keep the smile at bay. Disgusting maybe, but kind of adorable, though he definitely wouldn’t tell you that.  

[peterparkers-bad-youtube-apology]

Let’s Dance

Into the Rush - Chapter 7

Pairing: Snowboarder!Tom x Reader

Summary: You and Tom go to a party

Taglist

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

(y/n) watched from the kitchen as Tom squinted at his phone, he was typing away while she made them some tea.

“Everything alright?” she questioned.

He looked up at her and nodded, “Yeah, it’s just a groupchat with some of the other guys. I guess there’s some kind of party going on tonight.”

“Let me guess, you weren’t invited?” she snickered.

“What? Of course I was invited,” he shot her a glare.

“Well are you gonna go?”

“Why would I go? I’m hanging out with you,” he turned back to his phone, “I mean who else is going to keep you company while you go grocery shopping?”

“I can drop you back off at your place, I won’t be upset if you don’t want to go grocery shopping with me,” she set a mug in front of him before she sat down beside him.

Tom wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her against him, “No, I want to go with you.”

“I thought our next date wasn’t going to revolve around food?”

“In no scenario ever will going to the grocery store be considered a date,” he laughed and tossed his phone aside, “Do you like parties?”

She nodded, “Yeah, a lot actually. Do you like them?”

“I don’t really go to them,” he admitted, “I mean I always need to get up early for training so I try not to stay out late. Plus I don’t wanna get fucked up and do something that would hurt up my reputation, or end up getting me hurt or anything. It never really seems worth the risk to me.”

“Maybe you are too settled,” she teased, “I mean you’re already hurt, and you don’t have anything to get up for tomorrow, so why not go?”

“Because I’d much rather hang out with you,” he asserted, “I mean if you wanted to go then I’d go, but you’ve got work in the morning.”

“I’d love to go, I’d just want to be home by 11.”

“Hmm,” he hummed, pretending to think it over, “Are you going to dance?”

She rolled her eyes, “Of course I’m going to dance, it’s a party after all.”

He grinned, “Then I’m in, we’ll go grocery shopping, then we’ll party it up, and be back home so you can be in bed by 11:30. We can probably catch a ride with Haz too if you want to drink.”

“That sounds perfect, but you’ve got to have a couple drinks, and dance with me okay?”

“Deal.”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　 ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

(y/n) had told Tom she was going to dress up for the party, which Tom didn’t really think about until she left her room. She wore a short, spaghetti strapped, black velvet dress that hugged her body in all the right places. Tom couldn’t take his eyes off of her, and for a minute he couldn’t even remember how to speak.

“You look absolutely stunning bunny,” he grinned, inspecting her head to toe as she closed her bedroom door, “Lucky me.”

She blushed, “Thanks, I mean I never really get a chance to wear this sort of thing since it's always freezing. You don’t think I’m overdressed do you?”

He shook his head, “No, you look gorgeous, really, I think I’m about to start drooling.”

She rolled her eyes but a smile spread across her face, “Thank you Tom, that’s really sweet.”

“You’re welcome,” he offered her his hand, “Come on, Haz is waiting downstairs.”

“You look lovely (y/n),” Harrison complimented as they climbed into the car.

“Thanks,” she beamed from the backseat, “And thanks for driving me.”

“It’s no problem,” he assured, “As long as no one throws up in my car I really don’t mind.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not gonna drink that much,” she promised.

“Oh it’s not you I’m worried about,” he glanced at Tom in the rearview mirror.

“God, you throw up in one car and you never hear the fucking end of it,” Tom rolled his eyes while (y/n) giggled at his side.

The party was being held at the home of one of the other snowboarders, some boy (y/n) had only met in passing. She felt a bit awkward as Tom greeted everyone, she did her best to remember their names, but she didn’t spend much time with any of the snowboarders besides Tom and Harrison. There was one other face she recognized though.

“Well at least the busted leg got you a pity date,” Damien teased, “(y/n) you’re quite the little vixen tonight.”

“Uh, thanks,” she pursed her lips, the way his eyes wandered over her made her uncomfortable.

“Where’s your date Damien?” Tom wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her into him with a frown, “Or did you finally get dumped?”

“Ivy’s working, maybe you can catch her next time. I’m sure you’ll be coming out to party more often,” he nodded towards Tom’s leg, “I mean you’ve got nothing better to be doing right?”

“Well anything’s better than watching you fuck up halfpipe all day,” Tom flashed a fake smile, “Now if you don’t mind we were on our way to get some drinks.”

“Damien has a girlfriend?” (y/n) frowned as they walked away.

Tom nodded, “Yeah, they’ve been together for a while actually, they’re perfect for each other really, they’re both completely insufferable.”

“I guess there really is someone for everyone,” (y/n) joked, “He’s pretty flirty for someone in a relationship.”

“He’s not a very good person,” Tom hummed as he poured her a drink, “And he’s not even half as handsome as me, so I don’t know why he thinks he’s got a shot with you.”

She nodded in agreement before she took a sip of the drink. Her face puckering as soon as the liquid hit her tongue, “That is not good.”

“Well yeah, it’s basically all liquor,” Tom laughed, “It’s about getting drunk, not enjoying a nice drink.”

“You can make strong drinks that taste good,” she argued, “Here, try some.”

He took a sip, his lips puckered instantly, “Alright, it’s pretty bad, but once we’re a few drinks in we won’t even notice anymore. So let’s just force a bit down and then we can get to dancing, I want to see your best moves tonight bunny.”

“Well if I’m drunk they won’t be my best moves, but I will be doing them very confidently,” she forced down another gulp of the drink, “Come on Tommy, keep up.”

“Oh I will,” he poured himself a cup and clinked it against hers, “Cheers.”

After two drinks the buzz had started to settle in, making both of them a bit more giggly. By drink number three they were both getting flirty, seemingly becoming unable to keep their hands to themselves. Tom had poured them both a fourth drink before he decided it was time for them to hit the dance floor

“Be careful,” she giggled as he tugged her along, “Your leg.”

“My leg is fine,” he insisted, “Come on, I want you to dance for me.”

“Why are you so into dancing tonight?” she poked his chest before taking another sip of her drink.

“Because,” he leaned in, pressing his lips to her ear, “You look fucking gorgeous and I want to dance with you.”

She giggled again and wrapped her arms around his neck, “Let’s dance then.”

“Finally,” he pressed a kiss to the side of her head before setting down his drink.

The party had filled up quickly, and the dance floor had already become totally packed. Tom kept an arm around her waist to keep her close to him, guaranteeing they wouldn’t get separated. Her hips swayed against his, following the beat of whatever song was playing. Tom was totally entranced by her, he wouldn’t have been able to take his eyes off of her even if he wanted to. He never let himself let loose, there was always too much for him to worry about. Practice the next day, the possibility of getting himself hurt, but with (y/n) there there wasn’t anything to focus on but her. At least not until the drinks hit his bladder.

“Bunny wait here, I’ve got to use the bathroom,” he pressed his lips to her ear to make sure she could hear him.

She stopped her dancing and nodded, “Okay, I’m gonna fill up my drink,” she wiggled her cup at him and started giggling

He pressed his lips to hers and stole the final sip of her drink, “Grab me another too.”

“Okay,” she squeezed his bicep, “Be quick, I wanna dance some more.”

“You won’t even notice I’m gone bunny.”

The couple separated and Tom maneuvered his way to the bathroom as quickly as he could. It was far from the drunkest he’d ever been, but it still took him longer to navigate the bathroom than it normally would. When he finally stumbled out of the bathroom he was able to spot (y/n) almost instantly. She stood just outside of the kitchen, clutching two drinks while Damien leaned on the wall beside her. No one could get Tom going like Damien could, and he really couldn’t stand watching him hit on (y/n).

Tom stomped over to them and wrapped his arm around her before he spoke, “What the fuck do you want Damien?”

He smirked, “Well I was just telling (y/n) that I could keep her company since you disappeared.”

“Go keep your own girlfriend company,” Tom bit back, “She probably stayed home just to avoid you.”

“Why don’t you drive over there and ask her yourself?” Damien glared at him.

“I will bust your fucking leg worse than mine if you don’t leave her alone,” Tom threatened.

“Woah, woah, I think that’s enough,” (y/n) intervened before Damien could retort, “Tom maybe we should get out of here.”

He huffed as she pulled him away, “Yeah, let's go find Haz.”

They found Harrison near the door, chatting with some friends. He was happy to leave early, but he was a little puzzled by Tom’s sour mood. Tom was uncharacteristically quiet as they drove to (y/n)’s house. He was still angry, and maybe a bit embarrassed about his sudden burst of anger.

“Well this is my stop,” (y/n) broke the awkward silence as they pulled into her parking lot, “Thanks again for the ride Harrison.”

“It’s no trouble. Are you gonna be alright walking in?”

She nodded and let out a light giggle, “Yeah, I’m just a bit buzzed, but thank you for offering.”

“I’m gonna walk her up,” Tom declared.

“Alright, I’ll wait here,” Harrison yawned, “Just be quick, I’ve got to get up at 6.”

“I will be,” he assured, following (y/n) out of the car.

“Thanks for walking me,” (y/n) smiled at him and took his hand as they walked up the stairs.

“Yeah, I wanted to say goodbye,” he cleared his throat, “And apologize, I shouldn’t have acted like that with Damien.”

“It’s no big deal Tom,” she assured, “I mean we all get a little overconfident when we’re drinking.”

He rubbed the back of his neck while he spoke, “Yeah, I just don’t want you to think I go around getting into fights or something.”

“I know you better than that.”

He smiled and kissed her cheek, “Thanks. I had a lot of fun, aside from embarrassing myself, I hope you had fun too.”

She nodded, “I had a lot of fun, plus you’re a pretty good dancer.”

“That was all you bunny, I was just following your lead,” he winked.

She giggled and wrapped her arms around his neck, “Hopefully next time we’ll get to do it a little longer.”

“All night if you want,” he hummed, “Well I would love to stand here all night and gawk at you, but Haz is going to get upset if I don’t wrap it up soon.”

“Why don’t you just stay then?”

His already flushed cheeks tinted even darker, “Like spend the night?”

She nodded, “Yeah, I can drop you off at your place in the morning.”

“Okay,” he didn’t need to be convinced, “Let me text Haz.”

“Slumber party,” she sang, pulling him into her apartment with a smile, “Do you want some water?”

“Yes please,” he shot a text to Harrison and followed her into the kitchen, “Thanks bunny.”

“No problem,” she passed him a glass and hopped onto the counter, “I mean I’m pretty sobered up, but a little water never hurts.”

“Me too,” he leaned on the counter beside her, “It’s probably a good thing we left before we got too drunk, I wouldn’t want you to be hungover at work.”

“Yeah, good call,” she set her hand on his cheek, “You were kind of hot when you got huffy earlier.”

Tom choked on his water, “T-Thanks, I just didn’t really like it when other people hit on you.”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t like it if someone hit on you either,” she agreed.

He smiled and set his hands on her waist, “You are so gorgeous.”

She blushed, “Stop.”

“Why would I stop? It’s true,” he nuzzled his nose against her cheek, “Gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous.”

“Suck up,” she giggled and wrapped her legs around his waist, “Got you.”

“Yeah you do,” he agreed before pressing his lips against hers.

Her hands slipped into his hair, tugging at the ends of his messy curls. A groan left his lips and he dug his fingers into her waist, pulling her as close as he could get her. She ran her tongue across his bottom lip, smiling when he opened his mouth. They explored each other's mouths until they were out of breath, panting as they pulled apart. Tom’s eyes fell heavy as they wandered over her body.

“(y/n)?”

“Tom,” she purred in response.

His cheeks began turning pink again, “I wanna be your boyfriend.”

“Well I wanna be your girlfriend,” she smiled, continuing to play with his hair, “I’m obsessed with you remember?”

“Thank god,” he pressed his lips to hers again, “Come here bunny, I’ll carry you to bed.”

“Well that’s not happening until your leg is better, bed is a good call though,” she dragged her finger down his chest, “But I don’t think anything I have is going to fit you.”

“That’s fine, I prefer to sleep naked anyway,” he teased as she hopped off the counter, “So lucky you.”

She rolled her eyes and grabbed him by the edge of his jacket, “Come on boytoy, I’m getting cold.”

“I’ll keep you warm,” he assured, holding her waist while they walked.

He began trailing kisses from her shoulder up to her neck, she giggled and grabbed his hands as they settled on her hips. He grinned, working his lips against her neck while she leaned into him. She gasped as he nipped at her skin.

“Tom,” she closed her eyes, “I need to change.”

“I could help,” he offered, his hands moving to her back.

She nodded in approval and let him unzip her dress. She spun around and the dress fell off her shoulders, pooling around her feet. Tom’s eyes lit up with excitement at the sight of her. She pulled his lips to hers and grabbed the edge of his shirt, lifting it over his head while she backed him into her bed.

“You’re so beautiful,” he purred as he fell onto the bed. He quickly pulled her to sit over his lap, “You take my breath away everytime I see you.”

“Yeah, you’re not half bad either,” she teased, wrapping her arms around his neck, “Pretty face, nice body,” one of her hands dropped to his chest, tracing down his toned chest.

Tom set a hand on her cheek and pressed his lips to hers before pushing her onto the bed. He sucked her bottom lip between his, her lips still held a hint of her cherry-vanilla chapstick. He savored the flavor and let his free hand slip to her stomach, tracing over her soft skin. He had it bad, he let the rest of the world fade away and let himself get lost in her.

She leaned into him, his touch sent chills up her whole body, she was putty in his hands. Tom had a way of making her feel like she was the only person in the world, something about the way he looked at her. As far as she was concerned they were the only two people on earth, and she wouldn’t have changed a thing.

next chapter 

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

Taglist:

@kiszkastyleshigh @lharrietg @farfromharry @lolooo22 @peachyafshawn @saudadeholland @raajali3 @ellabellabus07 @niallsvirgosun

[ibis-gt]

ok ok i got the writing bug again. cam drives luther to the hospital to figure out why he's got Shrinks When Gay Disorder. 2k words.

~~~

“Well, Mr. Algers, from what I can tell you’ve got a very rare, very difficult autoimmune disease. We call it Gulliver’s Hanahaki.”

Luther sits glumly on the examining table, clad in a paper gown. He resists the urge to pick at the edges of it, instead keeping a tight grip on the table. Doctor’s offices always make him fidgety.

“Basically,” Dr. Townsend continues, “when your body encounters a specific form of stress, it will react in an attempt to defend itself, resulting in the reduction of size you’ve been experiencing.”

“So is there… any kind of cure?” Luther asks.

“Well, no. It’s not the kind of disease you cure.”

“Treatment of any kind? Pills I can take, shots, anything to stop it?” An edge of desperation creeps into his voice, the paper covering the table crinkling as his fingers dug into it.

“Nothing I can give you, I’m sorry to say,” Dr. Townsend sighs. “Unfortunately, its rarity means that it’s difficult to study. Any medication is still in the early trial stages and it wouldn’t be ethical for me to prescribe. There are two forms of preventative measures you can take to avoid further episodes, however.”

Luther straightens up from his slump. Thank god, something to get this nightmare to finally end!

“The first is very effective. Since the episodes are triggered by attraction to another individual and the anxiety resulting from that attraction, if you are able to avoid interactions with that individual altogether, no further anxiety will be triggered.”

Luther deflates, shoulders sagging. “That won’t work,” he mumbles. “We live in the same building.”

Dr. Townsend nods sympathetically. “I thought it might be something like that,” he sighs. “Your other option is to confess.”

Luther reels back like he’s been slapped. “Confess?”

“Yes. These episodes are made worse by bottling up your attraction or attempting to deny it. This causes the stress to compound and become more intense. If you admit your feelings to the individual you’re attracted to, then you will remove some of that stress and your episodes will be less frequent and less severe.”

“But- but that would only stress me out more!” Luther says, throwing his arms out to the sides. “I mean, I mean what if he says no? What if he says yes? What if he -”

Dr. Townsend puts a hand on Luther’s shoulder, cutting him off. His hand is… very large. Too large. Dr. Townsend and Luther are about the same height, after all, but his hand barely fits on Luther’s shoulder. Luther realizes suddenly that he’d been shrinking, and takes a deep breath. “Okay. Okay. I see your point. I just gotta tell him how I feel. Easy peasy.”

“Hm.” the doctor says. He lets his hand drop and a tinge of sympathy colors his serious expression. “Good luck, Luther. This is a very difficult disease to live with, even once you’ve mitigated your stress as much as possible. If there’s anything else I can do to support you, please let me know. Otherwise, our consultation is at an end for today. I’ll start reaching out and seeing what options there are for you - maybe a support group would help?”

“Thank you, doctor. That would be nice, actually. Um. Quick question - how… small can I get? Could I just… entirely disappear?”

Dr. Townsend lets out a huge sigh. “Well… on record, the smallest a person with Gulliver’s Hanahaki has been reliably measured at is about one and a quarter inch. There are rumors of people getting down to five centimeters, but frankly, that’s just ridiculous.”

Luther stares at the doctor for a long moment. “Right. Ridiculous.”

~~~

When he gets out to the waiting room, Luther is surprised to see Cam sitting there.

“I thought you left? You didn’t have to stick around.”

“Figured you might need a ride back. Wouldn’t want you shrinking on the way over.” Cam stands and stretches, rolling his neck. “Ugh. Little stiff,” he mutters.

Luther tries to get his racing heart back under control. He’s a little shorter than usual, and having Cam loom over him like this… it’s not doing him any favors in the height department. But he manages to keep a handle on himself as they walk out to the parking lot. Cam’s quiet for a bit, but once the car starts up, the questions begin.

“So, what’d the doctor say?” Cam asks, glancing over his shoulder as he backs out of the parking spot. A little ball of panic starts to form in Luther’s gut. Oh, nothing much, just that I’m going to shrink every time I’m awkward around my crush. Which is you, by the way.

“Uh, it’s… an autoimmune disorder,” Luther mumbles. “Rare one. They don’t know a lot about it yet.”

“Okay, makes sense,” Cam says. Luckily his eyes are on the road, so he doesn’t notice Luther losing an inch. “What’s it called?”

“G - “ Luther starts, then catches himself. What if Cam looks it up later and figures it out? He shrinks a little bit more and swallows, trying to clear his throat. “I… the name was… it was very long and I didn’t really, uh, catch it.”

Cam chuckles quietly. The sound reverberates around the inside of Luther’s skull. It’s so musical and sweet. He clutches the seatbelt and shrinks some more.

“Yeah, some of them have weird names. What kinda treatment are you lookin’ at?”

“Uh… this was just like, a consultation, to identify it? So we’re gonna do treatment next time.” Luther doesn’t even sound convincing to his own ears. Cam glances sideways at him and his heart skips a beat.

“We don’t have to talk about it,” Cam says, looking the other way as he makes a turn. “It’s medical stuff, it’s personal. I’m sorry for prying.”

“No, no, it’s not that! It’s… just a lot to take in, and I’m still - there’s a couple things it could be actually and they don’t know for sure so they took blood samples, and there’s tests that are gonna come back later, and um, uh…” Luther trails off. He’s shrunk so much now that the seat belt presses uncomfortably across his chest and neck, and the tension on it makes it difficult to adjust. He’d been staring out the windshield as he rambled, but now he’s too short to see much more than the sky. He feels Cam pull the car over and turn off the engine. Luther slowly turns to his left and looks up at Cam, who stares down at him in turn. Luther, maybe two feet high now, offers a shaky smile.

“There’s, um. No cure. Or treatment,” he says in a soft, wavering voice. “I just… live like this now.”

Cam tilts his head to one side like he’s trying to decide on something. He shifts in his seat, turns his body a little to face Luther, and props up one arm on the headrest. Then he sighs.

“You’re too short to sit in the front now,” he says. He glances to the backseat. Luther follows his gaze and stares in horror at the car seat sitting neatly behind the driver’s side.

“Oh, no,” Luther whispers. He raises his voice as Cam shifts again and undoes his seat belt. “No, no, no, no, I am not going in that! Cam!” But it’s too late. Cam opens the car door and gets out, then shuts it behind him. Luther slams down on the release button for his own seat belt with both hands, keeping his eyes on Cam through the windshield as he walks around the front of the car. The belt retracts with such force that it knocks him sideways, and it takes him a moment to right himself and get his bearings again. Before he can try to run or hide, the door opens, and Cam reaches in for him.

“No, please, come on,” Luther pleads. He backs up as far as he can, but Cam easily gets his hand around Luther’s middle and lifts him up. “I’m an adult, a full grown man, I can’t go in a baby seat! Please, Cam, don’t put me in that thing, why do you even have it? It’s so humiliating, you can’t do this!”

“Number one,” Cam says, opening the back door. “I can put you in it, I have plenty of practice wrangling my niece in there.” He sets Luther down and gets to work on the straps, easily subduing Luther’s halfhearted attempts to squirm free. “Number two, this is about traffic laws. If I’m driving around with someone under four feet in my front seat, I’m gonna get pulled over, and if you wanna explain to the officer that you’re a full grown adult and pay the ticket, be my guest. And number three,” he says, clicking the last buckle into place, “this is about your safety. We get in an accident, that seat belt up front is gonna do you more harm than good.” He straightens up again and shuts the door. Luther puts his head in his hands, trying not to break down in tears. That would only make it worse. The words ‘this is about your safety’ echo around his head in his father’s voice. He hears the driver’s side door open and close, hears Cam settle himself in, and manages to speak up.

“Just… please don’t laugh. Or take pictures, or anything.” He risks a glance between his fingers. Cam is looking at him in the rearview mirror, no amusement or pity visible in his eyes.

“I won’t.” The sincerity in his voice takes Luther by surprise. “This isn’t funny. This is really serious, and I’m sorry I had to do that.” He turns the key in the ignition and pulls the car back onto the road. “We’re nearly home. You won’t have to be there for long.”

Luther stares miserably out the window at the sky above. True to Cam’s word, it’s only another ten minutes before they’re pulling into the apartment complex’s lot. As soon as the car’s turned off, Luther starts pulling at the straps, trying to figure out how to get himself free. Cam comes around to his side again and opens the door.

“I got it, I got it,” Luther assures him. “It’s just this one, right? No… wait, this one? Or is it… um…”

“Let me,” Cam says softly. He reaches in and has the whole contraption undone in an instant. Then, to Luther’s surprise, Cam scoops him up and holds him against his chest like he’s a toddler. Luther’s arms hang over Cam’s shoulder as he blinks in shock. Cam whistles as he approaches the door to their building, fishing his keys out of his pocket. He opens the door one-handed and starts the climb up the stairs to their floor. Luther should say something, this is horribly demeaning, but… it’s also undeniably very nice. He feels supported and safe, and he’s so close to Cam but the usual stab of anxiety is totally absent. He could almost drift off like this.

Cam reaches his door and unlocks it, then stops suddenly and looks at Luther.

“Oh! Shit! I’m so sorry, it was kind of like muscle memory, I guess? God, I’m sorry.” He lowers Luther to the floor and looks away, rubbing the back of his neck.

“That’s… that’s okay. The stairs would’ve sucked to climb right now anyway.” Luther should leave, Cam’s still got the door open for him, but… “Do you mind if I stay for a bit? Just until I get a little bigger? Um, I can’t really reach my door handle right now, so…”

Cam smiles, and that familiar pang of anxiety flutters up inside Luther again. “Yeah, you can hang out here. You’re always welcome.” He turns and trudges towards the kitchen, his footsteps shaking the floor as he passes Luther. “It’s pot roast tonight, anyway. Even if you get your height back in the next five minutes, I’d insist you stay for dinner.”

Luther thinks about the doctor’s advice. Confess your feelings, and all of this gets easier. But when he goes to open his mouth, he loses another three inches all in one go. Luther digs his nails into his palms and sets his jaw. Not just yet, then. But soon. Eventually.

One of these days.

[ncssian]

A Favor: Part Eighteen

Nessian Modern AU

Masterlist

a/n: a short update while i try to find my writing rhythm again :))

***

Nesta hasn’t danced in over ten years—yet her body still remembers how to move fluidly and create shapes as if she never stopped. Pole dancing is different, of course: most of it takes place in the air, and she doesn’t have the right muscles developed to support her weight that well. Damn, she should really ask Cassian for help if she wants to keep doing this.

Still, Emerie and Gwyn are gaping by the time Nesta lands on the floor after trying out a basic spin.

She cracks her neck. “What?” she says at their stares.

“Where did you learn to do that?” Emerie demands.

She shrugs indifferently. “Eight years of ballet. Push-up challenges with Cassian.”

The instructor, an overly energetic Australian woman, comes up just then and claps Nesta on the shoulder, making her jump. “That was beautiful,” she praises. “Really, you have the balance of a cat. What’s your name again?”

Nesta introduces herself obediently, and Gwyn and Emerie follow.

The instructor nods. “In that case, Nesta, you keep doing what you’re doing. Don’t worry about your upper body strength yet, it’ll come around with time. You, the redhead,” she addresses Gwyn.

Gwyn straightens.

“I’ve never seen someone with your height and grace at the same time,” the instructor says. Gwyn beams with pride. “Unfortunately,” she continues, “I’ve also never seen someone so prone to hurting themselves on the pole.” Gwyn hangs her head.

“And the pretty girl.” She turns to Emerie last, who looks like she already knows what she’s about to hear. “Well, we can’t all be naturals.” The instructor grins broadly. “Feel free to keep using the poles after class is over.” She nods to their group and moves on to some other students.

Emerie sticks her tongue out and groans. “My tights keep giving me wedgies on the pole.”

“This was your idea,” Nesta reminds her as she reaches for her water bottle.

“Yet you’re the only one reaping the benefits,” Gwyn grumbles. “You never told us you had the body of a dancer and the balance of a gazelle.”

“Cat,” Emerie corrects.

“Guys,” Nesta says firmly. “This class is important for all of us. We won’t look this good,” she gestures to all their bodies, “forever. Gwyn is already pushing thirty.”

Gwyn’s jaw drops. “I’m turning twenty-seven, not getting menopause.”

“Same thing,” Emerie mutters. Gwyn shoves her hard and goes to pack her gym bag, leaving Emerie dramatically rubbing her shoulder. Nesta follows after Gwyn while the rest of the class begins gathering their things, too.

“How’re you feeling?” she mutters lowly as Gwyn packs. They haven’t brought up the conversation in Gwyn’s car since it took place, but Gwyn seems returned to her usual self now, if not even sunnier.

Gwyn’s lips twitch up as she glances sidelong at Nesta. “Perfect,” she says smoothly. “I can’t even remember what I was so upset about.”

Nesta is glad, even though she knows the nightmare isn’t gone. Knows that anytime from the next hour to the next year, it could reappear in full force and drag Gwyn down again. But hopefully it won’t hit as hard as it did before, now that Gwyn has her.

After class, they all pile up in Emerie’s car, a handed-down hunk of metal which Emerie insists on calling “vintage”. Gwyn sticks her head between the driver and passenger seat from the back and wrinkles her nose. “Get me home quick, it smells like a dead banana back here.”

“Oh, is that where I left it?” Emerie starts to turn around, but Nesta stops her with a hand on her shoulder. “I need a shower and a nap,” she pleads. “Let’s go.”

Emerie begrudgingly assents, sticking the key in the ignition and turning it. Nothing happens.

Frowning, she turns it again, but the engine doesn’t so much as choke. She slaps the dashboard like it’ll bring her car to life.

“Amazing,” Nesta mutters.

***

Cassian has imagined more times than he’d like to admit what it would be like when Nesta finally introduced him to her friends, but he never imagined this.

Three tired and hungry girls sit in his truck, alternating between arguing and laughing with each other. He can’t keep up with all of their personalities at once, so he just hones in on Nesta while he drives. Nesta, who Cassian has never seen so carefree or witty with people other than himself before. It both fascinates him and freaks him out, the realization that there’s so much to Nesta he doesn’t know yet. It gives him all the more excuse to spend the next several years getting to know her.

“Don’t tell me what to do with my car,” the dark-haired girl, Emerie, is snapping from the backseat. “Mr. Madani,” she abruptly says, sticking her head forward to look him in the face. Cassian nearly jumps. “Do you know how to change a car battery?”

Nesta shoves Emerie’s face back through the gap between seats from where she sits in the front. “You don’t need a battery change, you need a lifestyle change,” she says. “And don’t call my boyfriend by his last name, he’s not a middle-aged dad.”

Cassian bites back a laugh at that.

“Oh, but if I’m twenty-seven, I’m on the brink of menopause,” Gwyneth speaks up.

“Really?” Cassian says, meeting her eyes in the rearview mirror for the first time all drive. “You’re the same age as me?”

He remembers what Nesta told him about Gwyn’s discomfort around men, so he tries to keep his tone casual, distant. If he scares Nesta’s friend away, he’ll never forgive himself.

Gwyn looks stunned to be directly addressed by him, seeming to lose all her sass. “Uh...my birthday’s in a few days,” she says, suddenly awkward.

“That’s right,” Emerie interjects eagerly. “We’re having a rager.”

“We’re having a sleepover,” Nesta corrects. She throws Cassian an exasperated look. “Drive faster, will you? I can’t share a car with these girls any longer.”

“Don’t be fucking rude.” Gwyn flicks a hair tie at Nesta, making her cry out.

Cassian does not understand this dynamic at all, so he shuts up and does as he’s told.

After Gwyn and Emerie have been safely dropped off, Cassian throws his keys into the bowl at the cabin entrance and tosses off his shoes. “I think I finally know what it’s like to be you,” he tells Nesta as they meet the warmth of the house.

“What do you mean?” She unzips her windbreaker, revealing the form-fitting athleticwear beneath. God, he hasn’t even gotten a chance to look at her since he picked her up.

He redirects his eyes to her face. “You know,” he says. “On the outside looking in. I feel drained.”

Her lips quirk up as she hangs up her jacket. “That scared of a couple of girls, huh?”

“They’re your friends. I don’t know what else I expected.” He follows Nesta deeper into the living room, kicking at the ground. “So…” he trails casually. “How was class?”

Nesta responds by rolling her eyes. “I was wondering how long you’d take to crack.”

“What do you mean?” he says, indignant.

“I mean…” She steps up to him and takes his hands, dragging them up her waist to settle on the bare skin beneath her black crop top. “You haven’t said a word about pole-dancing since I told you I was starting it. One would almost think it didn’t affect you at all, and yet,” she tilts her head, “I get the feeling you haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. Especially at night, when you’re alone.”

Cassian’s breath goes thin. She knows him too well.

“Cunning witch,” he breathes. Nesta’s smile is slow and winning, which he takes as invitation to slip his hands around her back and pull her in. Her chest is pressed flush against his.

She stares at his mouth, the place she always stares when her mind is five steps ahead of reality. Like she’s already imagining how he’ll take her. “Dreaming about a private performance, are you?”

“Hopefully not right now,” a low voice says from above them.

Nesta jumps, spinning around in Cassian’s arms, but Cassian just closes his eyes and sighs. He opens them to find Azriel sitting in the reading nook that overlooks the living room, various work reports scattered about him.

“Have you been there this whole time?” Nesta demands.

“Unfortunately,” Azriel says at the same time Cassian grumbles, “Of course he has.” Remaining unnoticed is all his brother is good for.

Nesta sighs and rubs her eyes, the mood effectively killed. “I need a break.”

Cassian considers going up to Az and pushing him over the second floor railing as Nesta wiggles out of his arms and heads for the stairs. “And a back massage,” she calls over her shoulder.

“I’ll be right there,” Cassian tells her. But he waits to hear their bedroom door click shut before he also goes upstairs, not towards Nesta but to the reading nook.

“Hey, bro?” He tries to sound lighthearted as he approaches Az. “Do you mind not cockblocking me in my own house?”

Az doesn’t look up from the report he’s reading, flipping a page. “It’s rude to be horny in public spaces.”

“My house is not a public space,” Cassian growls, struggling to keep his temper. “Before you moved in, it was a very, very private space.” For him and Nesta alone, he doesn’t add.

Azriel finally looks up, question in his eyes. “So what?” he says. “You want me to leave?”

Never, is the automatic assurance that nearly comes out of Cassian’s mouth. Of course he’d never want his brother gone, especially when he’s clearly going through… something. But he bites down on the word and takes a seat in the chair across from Az. “I want to know how long you’re planning on staying. For real. You can run from your problems as much as you want, but that doesn’t mean I can provide you with a hiding place forever.”

“Wow.” Azriel’s eyes widen in mock-disbelief and he clasps a hand to his chest. “So cold, brother. I think you caught some of your girlfriend’s iciness.”

Cassian narrows his eyes seriously at Az. “Or maybe I’m being the only adult here.” Cassian now has responsibilities to a person who isn’t part of his traditional inner circle. A person he can see himself making long-term plans with, a person he plans on keeping around. It changes the course of his future in a way that the rest of his family probably haven’t realized yet.

Though maybe Azriel does realize it, because he looks away and murmurs, “No need to rub it in.”

For the thousandth time that month, Cassian wonders what caused Azriel to run away from Velaris. It’s a secret Az refuses to share with even him.

“I’m trying,” Azriel says. His words are slow, unsure. “I’m trying to create space between me and that city, but I’m going to need more time. I can’t tell you how long it’ll take until I can go back. But if you can’t keep me here, I’ll find someplace else to stay.” He shrugs. “It’s not that hard.”

Cassian exhales, feeling sympathy twist deep in his chest for his best friend—and he doesn’t even know what the sympathy is for. “Then take your time,” he says sincerely. “Stay here forever if you want. We can Photoshop you into all our pictures. But don’t think I’m gonna make it easy on you,” he warns.

“You already don’t make it easy on me,” Az mutters. “I can hear you and Nesta fucking all the time.”

“First, don’t ever talk about Nesta and fucking in the same sentence ever again.”

Az blinks in surprise, likely remembering the way they would talk about their hookups before Nesta came into the picture. “Damn, she’s got you bad.”

“Second,” Cassian continues, “I will not hesitate to make you sleep outside if you get on my or Nesta’s nerves.”

“With that attitude, I’ll be out of here by next week,” Az snorts. He crosses his feet and picks up his report again, clearly done with this conversation.

Seeing no hope in rubbing the point in further, Cassian leaves Azriel to his work.

***

Nesta is stripped down to her underwear and getting ready to shower when she notices a missed call from Elain on her phone.

She hesitates at her sister’s name on the screen, wondering what could possibly have encouraged Elain to call while Nesta was at dance class. What happened to the times that Nesta could go weeks without a single person checking up on her?

Looking toward the bedroom door as if Cassian will come in and save her from having to call Elain back, she waits a solid minute before giving up.

Elain picks up on the first ring. “I’m surprised you called back,” she greets.

“I’m full of surprises these days.” Nesta settles onto the bed. “What did you want?” She doubts Elain called just for a check-in, not with the stagnant bitterness that’s been between them lately.

“To have a normal conversation with my sister for once.”

Nesta tries not to roll her eyes all the way back into her head, even though no one is around to see her. “Go on and have it then.”

“I heard from Rhys that Azriel moved into Cassian’s place,” Elain says in her honey-sweet voice. “I’ve been meaning to ask how that’s going for you.”

Nesta’s brow furrows at that voice, the one that Elain uses whenever she wants to give her best first impression—or wants to pry something out of someone. “It’s going fine,” she says flatly. “Az and I get along great.”

That’s a bit of an exaggeration, but…

“You’re calling him Az now?” Nesta can hear the way Elain tries to tamp down on her curiosity, but she’s never been as good at affecting apathy as Nesta is.

“Yeah,” she answers. “Why? Do you miss him?”

Elain nearly chokes over the line. “Why—why would you say that?”

“I thought you guys were friendly,” Nesta says, leaning back into the pillows. “Doesn’t everyone miss him back in Velaris?”

“Oh.” The relief in Elain’s voice is palpable, piquing Nesta’s curiosity. “Yeah, we miss him.” She clears her throat. “He left without telling anybody.”

Nesta fiddles with the band of her panties. “You don’t know why he left either?”

Elain is silent for several moments. “No.” Her answer is quiet, truthful. “I don’t know.” She adds, “Keep an eye on him, will you? I would do it myself, but I’ve been iced out.”

Nesta finds this very suspicious. She can’t bring herself to be interested enough to keep snooping, however, not as the door creaks open and Cassian enters the room. “Will do,” she promises Elain, and makes a quick goodbye. When she hangs up, Cassian asks, “Who was it?”

“Elain.” Nesta frowns at her phone. She wonders if someone like Cassian would be better at reading between the lines of the strange conversation she just had. Maybe he could put his finger on the mysterious relationship between her sister and his brother. But since there are no creeks nearby for Azriel to be shoved into, and it isn’t any of Nesta’s business either way, she decides to give him and Elain time to sort their own shit out.

“What did she want?”

Nesta refocuses on Cassian, who leans against the door appreciating her half-naked form stretched out before him. Without words, she holds her arms open.

He shoves off the door and approaches her on the bed, letting her envelop him into a hug. It isn’t the warmest or most comforting hug, and her arms are stiff as stone, but he melts into her either way. There’s a weariness in his broad shoulders that spikes concern in her.

When Cassian pulls away, she traps his face in her hands and scans it closely for answers. “What’s wrong with you?” she asks. “You fell asleep early during the last two movies we watched and you’re half-asleep now.”

“What are you talking about?” He throws his signature smile her way, but it lacks alertness. “Do I look like there’s anything wrong with me?”

“You tell me.” Nesta shifts so she can slide her hand over the smooth plane of his back, resting her palm on the warm spot between his shoulder blades. It’s her best imitation of a soothing gesture, and it makes Cassian’s lips quirk up lightly.

He hangs his head and sighs. “Is it possible to have growing pains at my age?”

Nesta is confused. “Like, physically?”

“No,” he says. “Just… growing up.”

“I don’t think we ever stop growing up,” she answers honestly. Maybe she’s biased because a part of her is still trapped in that childlike state, and she has more growing to do than most people. “I think it hurts a little every time we have to shift and become someone older. What’s hurting you now?”

Her hand slides up to the nape of Cassian’s neck, gently massaging the muscles there. His head droops even more under her touch. “I can’t believe you’re asking me that when I’m supposed to be taking care of you,” he huffs. But he doesn’t look very inclined to argue.

Nesta squeezes the back of his neck. “I can be the stable one, too, you know. I can take care of you.” She should’ve defeated this misconception sooner.

“That’s not what I meant,” Cassian says, shaking his head. “I meant that I promised you a massage.”

Oh. She nearly forgot about that. “If you tell me what growing pains you’re having, I’ll let you join me in the shower,” she promises. “You can do whatever you want there.”

He looks up at that, dragging his gaze over her mostly-bare figure, and Nesta knows she’s won. “Tell me,” she demands one final time.

Cassian inspects her face, likely deciding how much he should reveal or not. “I’ve been thinking about the future,” he finally says. “It was never something I cared much about before, but now it keeps me up at night.”

Nesta is slow to realize—he’s talking about their future. “You really never thought about the future before?” she asks. At one point in time, Nesta had her life planned out to the age of forty. Her plans hadn’t included this, though.

Cassian shakes his head. “There was nothing for me to think about.”

She runs soothing fingers across his scalp, her heart rate unexpectedly picking up a beat. “And what do you think about now?”

Hazel eyes meet hers with wariness. “Stupid stuff,” he says. “Cars, taxes, insurance.”

At the look on her face, he pulls away from the hand that’s gone still on his neck. “Okay, let’s get you in the shower before I scare you away for good.”

Nesta feels herself being scooped into Cassian’s arms, but she doesn’t quite register it. It’s not until they’re in the bathroom that she remembers words. “I’m not scared,” she says from the cradle of his arms. “I was just surprised.”

Regaining her senses, she squirms until Cassian puts her down on the floor. She straightens. “I’ve never... pondered on the small things like that.”

Except they aren’t really small or stupid, are they? They’re big, inevitable facets of sharing a life with someone. She clears her throat. “The way we live now is already so nice. I guess I forgot things won’t be like this forever.”

Which isn’t the most assuring thing to say from the way Cassian’s face becomes carefully still. But in a blink he’s smiling again, his hands going to unclip her bra. “Don’t worry yourself with that shit,” he chuckles. “I was only dreaming.”

Guilt turns Nesta’s stomach into sludge. She made Cassian share what was weighing on him only for her to brush it off. She wants to talk through it with him until he’s giving her a real smile, but she doesn’t know where to start or what to say. So she lets her bra drop to the floor and steps close to wrap her arms around him.

His breath hitches against her ear, and one of his broad hands comes up to rest on her bare back. “Two hugs in one day?” he says, his amusement covering up some deeper emotion. “I’m either doing something right or doing something very wrong.”

“No. I’m just feeling appreciative.” Her hand returns to that space between his shoulder blades, the spot that seems to disarm him, and pats him there. She gives herself a solid moment to luxuriate in the warmth and size and hard strength of him before saying, “Get undressed, will you?”

One of his hands squeezes her butt. “You need to get off me first.”

She hums in agreement but doesn’t move—hoping he can feel everything she doesn’t know how to tell him.

***

a/n: i bought my eid dress and it’s so pretty yall 🥺

taglist: @hellasblessed @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @valkyriewarriors @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @everything-that-i-love @cassianscool @swankii-art-teacher @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy @poisonous-bloom @observationanxioustheorist @gisellefigue08 @courtofjurdan @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @wolfiixxx @cass-nes @seashade @royaltykxx @illyrianundercover @queenestarcheron @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies @humanexile @that-golden-lyre @agentsofsheilds @mercy-is-alive @cassiansbigwingspan @laylaameer01 @verypaleninja @maastrash @bow-dawn @perseusannabeth @dead-on-the-inside666 @jlinez @hungryreadingaddict @anidealiveson @planet-faerie @shallowhighwaters @ghostlyrose2 @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens @rarephloxes

[shartlord420]

Adachi and/or Maruki for the ask thing:0?

Okay Maruki first because my favoritism is almost certainly going to show with the depth of my Adachi answers

MARUKI!!!

How I feel about this character

Ohhhhh Takuto Maruki.... honestly, he hits just a little too close too home 🤧 It's really funny, actually, I realized almost immediately that his narrative like. Lined up SO evenly with my high school self-based vent oc LMAO. I won't get into the parallels/details, but it's hilariously uncanny. Like, obviously not an exact replica, but it's pretty close.

I like him a lot. I think he's an incredibly interesting character, and I'm always a sucker for compelling psychological profiles. He's not a bad PERSON, but his ways of coping and interacting with the world around him is so unhealthy and unintentionally damaging and I eat that up. My favorite characters are the ones who need to go to therapy BADLY. Process your trauma, Takuto, I am literally begging you.

Also he's a HILARIOUS character. Little juice man!!!!!! It's like watching a car crash, you can't look away. What are you DOING Takuto. 100% have vented to my friends about his plethora of bad choices.

All the people I ship romantically with this character

Tohru Adachi is the primary one, I won't lie, I just think the two of them would be SO interesting together. It would take an essay to explain, BUT. They just complement each other nicely. I think they could offer some nice balance for one another, and they have an obscure little bit of history in common- both being adult persona users who went down a dubious path at least partly due to the influence of a god. Like, how many people are you gonna meet who would actually get that?

My non-romantic OTP for this character

I think Yu Narukami and Takuto Maruki should be friends. They would be. Maruki deserves a friend like Yu.

My unpopular opinion about this character

HMMMM. Once again the popular vs unpopular opinions train stumps me. What are my unpopular opinions...

See the problem is, yet again, I do not engage with the masses enough to know what the typical take on Maruki is.

OH WAIT I KNOW. My take on Maruki is that he is not a certified therapist and him becoming a counsellor was a result of his powers as opposed to him getting formally certified. Listen. Maybe he did. But I cannot watch his "counseling sessions" without screaming. This man does not know what hes doing. You are a cognitive science researcher not a therapist what are you DOING!!!!! (I love him I swear I do but he makes me insane)

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon.

I want documented evidence of him getting a therapist

And now for the Tohru Adachi posting

How I feel about this character

I watched the Persona 4 anime in high school and then years later, as a young adult, as I remembered the series and characters yet again I finally caved and bought the game specifically so I could hang out with Tohru Adachi, if that tells you anything. My little man. My evil little boy. Stinky rotten man I love him so much. I once unironically said, out loud to myself, "I wish Tohru Adachi was my dad" while crying about my dad issues. I have a little keychain with him on it and I had it hanging from my rearview mirror for a while. I brought him with me when I visited California. He is currently pinned above my bed like a little guardian angel. This is a callout post for myself.

I have infected my friends with Tohru Adachi propaganda I can and will give you a detailed psychological analysis of this man. I basicslly have one written already, actually, it's almost 2,000 words long, a walkthrough analysis of his actions and frame of mind throughout the game,

I'm mentally ill!!!!!! And it's his fault. I love him.

All the people I ship romantically with this character

- Ryotaro Dojima

- Takuto Maruki

- Izanami

- Munehisa Iwai

- Therapy

My non-romantic OTP for this character

Aggressively shakes his entire dynamic and relationship with Yu Narukami mmmmm oh my god

My unpopular opinion about this character

I refuse to believe Atlus when they say his motive was being an incel and that's a hill I can and will die on Atlus just has a weird fucking obsession with adding misogyny at every SINGLE opportunity even if it doesnt add anything to the narrative (OR EVEN WORSE: DETRACTS FROM IT!!!!)

I mean, more likely they did in fact intend him to just be an entitled brat and the incelness was just a demonstration of that but they were SO audience blind and ignorant to reality that they didn't realize they had created a character that didn't scream "boo hoo I'm just MAD that the world wasnt handed to me on a silver platter", they created a character that resonated with a generation that was told that they just had to study hard and work hard and things would be okay, only to be thrown into a world that failed to deliver on the promises they had been given, not an ENTITLED character, but rather, a sympathetic man who got fucked over by not being properly prepared for the real world and being deprived of enjoyment of his youth BECAUSE of these false promises, so when the fans DIDN'T respond to Adachi with pure hatred and instead actually LIKED AND SYMPATHIZED with him they realized, oops!!! We misread our audience!!! And then they moved forward with more Adachi content and development, but just GLAAAAZE over the misogyny that is at this point ENTIRELY shoehorned in and Adachi is gay thanks for coming to my tedtalk

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon.

more.

[jaehyunfirstlove]

Highway to Heaven - Ch. 6

Your best friend Johnny wants to go on a road trip. The only catch? He wants to bring his roommate, Jeong Jaehyun, someone you just couldn’t stand.

Genre: e2l, fluff, angst, (eventual) smut

Warnings: Just some swearing

Taglist: @jaehyunnie77 @sehunniepot​ @jaejoongiewifey-blog @glxwingstar​ @sleep-is-all-i-seek​ (send me a message if you want to be tagged)

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5

A/N: No smut in this chapter, sorry :)

You woke to someone whistling, and looking over you saw Johnny packing his suitcase. When he saw movement from you he sighed dramatically.

“Well look who’s finally awake!” he said sarcastically, “come on and pack up, Y/N, time to head home.”

You sat up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, feeling amazingly well-rested. You were in the middle of piecing together what happened the night before when Jaehyun emerged from the bathroom. He saw that you were awake, but then averted his eyes.

“I’ll go pack up the car,” he said quickly, grabbing Johnny’s suitcase right out of his hands, picking up his own on the way by, and sprinting out the door. Johnny looked at his retreating figure quizzically.

“What’s up with him?” he wondered, and then it hit you. The hazy events of the night before started to come back to you, but in flashes, like an erotic movie on fast forward. You felt the blush creep up your neck and onto your face, mortification the weakest description for what you were feeling at that moment.

“Oh my god,” you whispered under your breath. What the fuck is wrong with you, you reprimanded yourself. You covered your face with both your hands, wondering if you could spend the rest of the trip like that and not have anyone question it.

“Let’s go, Y/N,” Johnny called, walking out the door. You got out of bed and quickly packed up, taking a deep breath before you opened the door to face your fate. Your heart was pounding when you got to the car, and it absolutely sank when Johnny called out to you. “Hey if you don’t mind I’m taking the backseat, I didn’t sleep well in that bed last night so I wanna take a nap.”

You looked at Jaehyun, who was sitting in the driver’s seat staring straight ahead. He didn’t turn to you when you got into the car, just put it in drive and maneuvered out of the parking lot.

---

There was a heavy silence for the first part of the drive, just the sound of Johnny softly snoring in the backseat. You couldn’t stand it anymore so you finally spoke up.

“Is it okay if I play some music?” you asked. Jaehyun nodded, his eyes never leaving the road in front of him. He also kept a death grip on the steering wheel, not his usual one hand on the wheel, one hand on the console between you. You could see his knuckles turning white. You had to address this before he combusted.

“Listen Jaehyun, about last night…” you couldn’t look at him as you spoke, but he didn’t respond, so you looked up at him cautiously. He looked like he was in pain. “I’m really, really sorry for making you do… that.”

“You didn’t make me,” he responded quietly, “I agreed to it.”

“Yeah, well, it was wrong of me to put you in that position. I’m sorry.”

He visibly relaxed, his shoulders finally slumping and his hands slackening a little on the steering wheel. “It’s okay, I didn’t mind. It felt nice to make you feel good like that.” He hazarded a careful smile as he finally looked over at you.

Again you didn’t know how to feel, should you be insulted that he enjoyed it, or should you be flattered that he wanted to make you feel good? It was all so maddening to you. His entire existence affected you in a way you’d never been affected by anyone or anything before in your life. Just his presence mere inches from you had an exhilarating effect that you couldn’t escape, no matter how hard you tried.

“Yeah, well, thanks then, I guess.” You really didn’t know what to say at that point.

“You’re welcome,” he said sincerely.

“Let’s forget about it then, okay? We can pretend it never happened, and I promise I won’t ask you to do anything like that ever again.” You looked at him expectantly.

His face fell slightly, his smile faltering, but he quickly regained his composure and nodded. “For sure, not a problem.”

Wanting to change the subject and also to fill the silence you picked up your phone. “Hey, what’s your instagram?”

He looked over at you in surprise, before he turned back to the road and smiled. “It’s just my name, I’m boring like that.”

You opened instagram on your phone and quickly found him, pressing the follow button. You scrolled through his page, filled with pictures of the night sky, and not much else.

“Wow, you really are boring,” you teased, but as you scrolled you came across a picture of him. He was sitting at a table, probably in a restaurant, the person taking the picture sitting directly across from him. He had his hands clasped in front of him, staring at the picture taker with a soft expression. “Hm, this is a nice picture of you.”

He looked over to see which one you meant, and just nodded. “My ex took that picture.”

“Which one?” you scoffed, and you instantly regretted your words when you saw how his face fell.

“Sorry,” you said in a meek voice.

“No, it’s okay, I deserved that.” He sighed. You should have left it, it really wasn’t your business, but you were dying to know.

“What’s the story anyway? With all those girls that you date. Are you really a ‘love ‘em and leave ‘em’ type of guy?” You tried to keep your tone light, knowing the subject itself was anything but light. He was quiet for a long time and you thought he might be mad at you for asking. “Forget it, sorry I asked.”

He blew out a breath, and you really thought he was going to lay into you, but instead he poured out his heart.

“It’s, um, it’s a problem, for sure,” he began, and you involuntarily leaned closer as if he was going to tell you the secrets of the universe, “I thought I could find, you know, ‘the one’ as they call it, but it turned out to be harder than I thought. Not that I thought it would be easy, but I figured she was out there, you know? But with each person I dated, I just wasn’t feeling it.”

“Were you being too picky maybe?” you offered.

He nodded thoughtfully, “I mean, yeah? I thought maybe I should give it a chance sometimes, but why prolong something that you know isn’t going anywhere? I usually knew by the end of the first date.”

“So wait, all of these women were just first dates?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

“So…. you weren’t, you know,” at this point you made a hole with one hand and the motion of your finger going through it with the other. If Johnny were awake he would have smacked you upside the head for being so juvenile.

Jaehyun just shook his head. “No, I didn’t have sex with them.”

You were floored. All this time you thought he was a sex machine, thinking he was bringing these women home to bed them and that’s why you and Johnny couldn’t hang out at their place.

“So when you were bringing them back to your apartment and Johnny and I were banned from hanging around, you weren’t banging them?” you had to ask.

He laughed. “No, I was cooking for them. It’s my thing.” He shrugged.

You didn’t know what to say. You’d had the wrong idea about him all this time, just like Johnny had said. You could hear Johnny’s voice in your head: you have the wrong idea about him, Y/N. Your mouth dropped open in shock. You could already hear Johnny gloating: told you so, told you so!

“It’s so lame, I know,” he chuckled humorlessly, “the last one really threw me though.”

“Why?” you asked, sincerely curious, “Did you have feelings for her?”

“No, it was the same story, but this time I decided to give it a chance. It got to the point where she really fell for me, but I couldn’t reciprocate her feelings and I felt terrible. I had to break it off, and she was furious. She blamed me for leading her on, told me I was a ‘lost boy who would never find love’ and threw me out of her house. I was at my lowest point and Johnny felt bad for me, so he suggested I go on this trip with you guys. So that’s why I’m here.”

You instantly felt like a sack of shit. Not only did you misjudge him so badly, you treated him like crap when all he needed was a fun time with friends.

“Oh fuck, I’m so lame,” you cursed yourself, “I’m so sorry.”

He smiled weakly. “Johnny told me what you thought of me, he said I should explain myself to you but I figured people believe actions over words, right? So I thought I could charm you but that backfired magnificently.”

You could only laugh. The two of you were like two dumb peas in a pod. “We’re both lame,” you lamented dramatically, at which point he threw his head back and laughed, a sound so beautiful to your ears you wanted to bottle it and keep it forever. Not to mention that when he laughed like that, the dimples in his cheeks got impossibly deep and his nose scrunched ever so cutely. You knew you were in deep trouble now.

“What’s so damn funny?” Johnny had woken up and clearly was not happy about it.

“Sorry,” Jaehyun looked in the rearview mirror to address Johnny, “Y/N was being funny.” He looked over at you and winked, you stuck your tongue out at him playfully. Johnny watched the two of you, the corners of his mouth turned up in amusement.

“Wait, does that mean the two of you are-” here he slapped his hand over his mouth in shock, “friends now?”

“Shut up,” you shot back, “I know this was all part of your plan. Go ahead and gloat, I’ll just ignore you.” You put in your airpods and pretended that you were listening to music.

“Finally!” Johnny yelled, clapping Jaehyun on the shoulders, “Told you she wasn’t a stuck-up, judgmental, annoying little brat!”

“Hey!” you turned around and punched him hard in the shoulder, “I heard that!”

---

For the rest of the drive Johnny alternated between expressing his relief at the two of you finally getting along, and teasing you about Jaehyun’s charms.

“You know that Jaehyun can cook, right? That means he’s good with his hands.” Johnny stated, smirking at the innuendo. If he only knew, you thought. You looked over at Jaehyun and his ears had turned red.

“I’m sure he is.” You couldn’t help yourself. Jaehyun shot you a panicked look, before he laughed nervously. “Maybe I can come over one day and you can cook for all of us.” You looked over to see his reaction. 

He smiled widely and nodded. “I’d love that.”

“Look at this! We’re all one big, happy family!” Johnny put his arms around both you and Jaehyun’s shoulders. You looked at your best friend and smiled. He was genuinely happy. You could only imagine how upsetting it was for him to have two people in his life who were very important to him, not be able to get along. You felt bad for putting him through that just because you were stubborn, and just as you were about to open your mouth to apologize he dropped a bomb. 

“And since we’re all so close now, we can all share the one king size bed in the motel tonight since it was the last room I was able to get.” He winked and shot finger hearts at you, and you wondered if there were any good places nearby to dispose of a body.

---

He was true to his word that night, climbing into the bed on one side and motioning for you and Jaehyun to get in with him.

“Come on in, I don’t bite. But I can if you want me to.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively. Jaehyun played along, giggling and covering his mouth demurely with his hand. You rolled your eyes. They really did belong together.

“You get in the middle then,” you addressed Jaehyun, “so you two lovebirds can be together.” Jaehyun laughed and got into the bed, and you followed, turning off the lights. With the lights on the mood could be playful and fun, but as soon as it was dark the seriousness of the situation hit you. You were so keenly aware of Jaehyun’s body beside you. You could hear him breathing, could see his chest rise and fall in the dim light. You could smell the faint musky scent of his cologne. There was no way you could fall asleep.

Jaehyun seemed to be having the same problem. Because of the lack of space, he wasn’t able to bring in an extra pillow to hug to help him fall asleep. He tossed and turned, sometimes kneeing or elbowing Johnny in the process, but Johnny slept like the dead and would only grunt and then turn over. This wouldn’t do.

“Do you need to hug something?” you whispered.

“It’s okay, there’s no space. I’ll manage.” He reassured you. But he sighed, and so you mustered up your courage.

“You can hug me, if you want,” you offered, “Just hug.” You felt like you should specify. He was quiet for a while so you thought he’d fallen asleep, but then you felt him turn towards you, his arm snaking around your waist.

“Are you sure it’s okay?” he whispered in your ear, and you involuntarily shuddered at his proximity. He felt good. His arm around you felt good. His body firm against your back felt good.

“Yeah,” you answered him, closing your eyes and finally giving in to the feelings you had been trying to hold back. “I’m really sure.”

[taehyungs-perm]

midnight love - ch. 1

collab with @jimins-filter

jimin x reader; superhero au; childhood best friends to lovers au; ceo, billionaire philanthropist, playboy!jimin

genre: angst; lowkey funny; eventual smut

summary: playboy park jimin comes back to seoul city after disappearing for six years; too much has changed, especially you. living out your nights as nyx, seoul city’s dark knight, is a secret you’ve kept for as long as jimin’s disappeared. but what happens when a new hero named eros comes into town just as park jimin shows up at your front door…

word count: 5k

chapter 2

PLAYBOY BILLIONAIRE PARK JIMIN BACK IN SEOUL

You stared at the main headline on the trending page of Twitter, clutching a cup of iced coffee, desperately trying not to crush the plastic cup as you sat on your bed. You didn’t know if you should feel relieved or annoyed that Jimin was back in Seoul. You clicked on the headline and your phone was immediately filled with pictures and videos of strippers, people doing lines of coke, and a wealthy array of booze.

Of course Jimin did this. It was so on brand of him: to go missing for six years and then show up unannounced and throw a giant, extravagant party (at his newly purchased penthouse in downtown Seoul, of course). In the most simplest terms, you were pissed. Even after all these years, you had held out some hope that when he came back the first thing he would do is come see you or call you. But nothing. No text, no call, hell not even a letter. You scoffed at your naivety. You clearly didn’t matter to him.

You rubbed your head in annoyance and threw your phone on the bed, trying to expel any thought of Park Jimin and focus on the case you had pulled up on your laptop. You’ve been working at it for a week now and any and all concentration you had mustered while drinking your 7th cup of coffee went down the drain when you heard a sharp ring from your phone. You picked it up from where you threw it on your bed, the phone screen illuminating your face in the dim light of your room. It was an unknown number. You hesitated for a second. It could be a work-related call, you realize, quickly picking up the call.

“Hello?” you answered, skeptical.

“______?”

What the fuck? How did he get your number? Your mind was racing with thoughts, thoughts that you had long since repressed ever since he left without a word. When you didn’t respond, he repeated your name again. His voice was as silky and calming as it was last time you heard it six years ago.

“Jimin?” you whispered, scared that this was all an illusion, that his voice would just suddenly disappear. 

As much as you wanted to be mad at him, you couldn’t. You really couldn't. He was your kryptonite. From covering for him when he skipped detention to writing his college essays, you would do anything for him. Well, you used to. That was a different time, a different you. Back then, you knew you could depend on Jimin like he depended on you. But that was before he broke your heart and your trust.

“______” he said giggly. He was drunk. Why are you not surprised?

A surge of annoyance went through you.

“Back from the dead?” you asked, dryly

“It sure feels like hell since you're not here. Why didn’t you come?” he whined.

“Where? To the brothel you call a home?” You let out a shaky laugh of disbelief. “ I had work,  Jimin. In case you’ve forgotten, some of us actually have a job.”

“I missed you.” he said in a feather light tone, sending shivers down your spine.

You wanted to believe him, every ounce of your being wanted to believe he meant those words. But you knew Jimin. He was irresponsible, he was a playboy, he was reckless, and most of all, he was a liar.

“Jimin, what do you want?”  you said exasperated.

“I want you. Can you please come over? I just wanna see you. That’s all I want. I don’t want this party and I don’t want anyone in my house except you.”

God, he can spew some bullshit. “I have to work Jimin. I can't come over. I have shit to do” you said coldly.

“Please? I know fucked up ______ I know I did. And I’m sorry. I'm trying to make things right. With us.”

And just like that you were 18 again, falling for his words and his empty promises.

“Jimin..” you said trailing off, unsure of what to do. You offhandedly glanced at your clock, it read 1:25 am. It wasn’t that late. You normally didn’t go to sleep until 3:00 am anyways.

“My driver’s already at your house” he said quickly.

“Fine. But I’m only staying for 20 minutes. Then your driver is going to take me straight back home. Got it?”

“Got it, darling.”

You glanced in the mirror. You were wearing grey sweatpants with an unzipped grey hoodie, revealing your white Calvin Klein bra. Your hair was falling out of the braid you had put it in a few hours ago, with a few strands covering your eyes. You were tempted for a moment to change, maybe wash your face, but then the familiar surge of annoyance came back. You were there to hear whatever bullshit excuse Jimin had, nothing else, nothing more; it didn't matter what you looked like, the last person on earth you had to impress was Jimin.

You slipped on some slides and walked out of your apartment, spotting the black Mercedes on your driveway. You felt a gust of brisk air hit you as you slid into the backseat of the car.

“Ms. ______?” the driver called from the front seat, his eyes meeting yours through the rearview mirror.

“Yes?” you said, shivering from the cold.

“Mr. Park insisted I come here to pick you up, if that’s alright?”

“It’s fine. But this is a short visit. I won't be staying there long.”

The driver nodded and reversed onto the main road. The drive was short. You had just about scrolled through some emails before the driver had parked the car in front of a large black tower. The driver got out of the front seat and opened your door. You stepped out, suddenly feeling very under dressed. He escorted you to the front desk where he whispered something to the concierge.

“He will be taking you up to Mr. Park’s penthouse,” the driver said, presenting the concierge. “I will be waiting out front for whenever you would like to be taken home.”

You nodded and thanked the driver, and then followed the concierge to the last elevator on the right of the lobby. You stepped in and watched as he swiped a card and tapped a few numbers on the keypad of the elevator. High security, you thought.

You watched the number on the screen inside the elevator go from 1 to 69 in a matter of seconds. The doors swiftly opened leading straight into the living room. Your mouth gaped open at the sight. There were girls stumbling around in their stiletto heels drunk, wine glasses and beer cans scattered on the floors, a bra hanging from the chandelier, and too many naked people. You looked back at the concierge who seemed unfazed by the animalistic sight,  standing in the elevator only for a moment before the doors closed behind you.

You carefully made your way through the mess when you heard a familiar voice, “Please put on some clothes mister. There are designated drivers who will take you directly to your residence.”

You whipped your head and saw a completely distraught Namjoon with his hands covering his eyes, talking to a completely naked man.

“Namjoon?” You said incredulously.  It had been a couple of years at least since you last saw him.

“______!” he said, immediately breaking into his familiar dimpled smile. He pulled you in a small hug. “It’s been too long! What are you doing here?”

“Um..Jimin asked me to come.” You admitted, feeling a bit embarrassed.

“Oh..” Namjoon knew your history with Jimin, the long complicated story of nothing. “He’s in his bedroom,” Namjoon said, pointing down the long hallway to the left.

You started to make your way to his room but as you walked, the old feelings of butterflies started to creep up. God, stop it. Literally look at this. He’s an idiot, a fuckboy, a full on hot mess. You don’t need this. You don’t need him.

His bedroom door was cracked slightly open, revealing a soft stream of moonlight trailing into the hallway. You pushed the heavy door open as you exhaled all your stupid worries. The room was quiet but you noticed some strewn pieces of clothing on the floor here and there. You saw a corner of the black framed bed but it was covered by large frosted glass panels. You walked over to his bed and saw the one and only Park Jimin. He laid there, his arm covering his eyes and his brown hair all messed up.. He wore a simple dress pant and shirt, the top buttons unbuttoned. His shirt was slightly raised, revealing his defined V line.

“You have a wine stain on your shirt.” you said bluntly, wanting to point out the imperfections on the oh so perfect Park Jimin.

Jimin smirked, lifting his arm from over his eyes. He looked at you lazily, his eyes slowly raking up and down your body.  

“Nice to see you too beautiful,” he said sleepily.

“I’m here, Jimin,” you sighed, crossing your arms. You shifted to the side, looking at him exasperatedly. “What do you want?””

“Just wanted to see you,” He mumbled, tucking the escaped strands of hair behind your ear. Jimin leaned forward, balancing on his elbows, and whispered in your ear, “I missed you.”

You fought back a blush and pulled away. “No shit, you’ve been gone for 6 years.”

“I didn’t mean to be gone for that long, it just happened.”

“You could’ve called or texted.”

“It’s complicated.”

“Everything’s always complicated with you, Jimin,”

“C’mon darling, I’m here now,” Jimin said sweetly, trying to reel you back.

“You didn’t even fucking call me when you came into town. I found out through twitter!”

“Well, I called you now,” Jimin teased, sitting up on the bed, about to grab your arm.

You softly shook your head before walking towards his sleek black dresser and pulling out a pair of grey sweatpants and a black t-shirt.

“You should change,” you said, throwing the clothes at Jimin who caught them with ease. You turned around, your back toward him to give him some privacy. You faced the floor to ceiling windows that took up one part of his room, overlooking downtown Seoul. The lights of the city twinkled with wonder and the cool gray fog covered it with secrets.

You suddenly felt a body press against your back. Jimin’s arms wrapped around your waist and he leaned his head in the crook of your shoulder. You wanted nothing more than to just melt into his arms and forget about everything. But that could never happen. You turned around, trying to get him away from you before you did something stupid like kiss him. God, you couldn’t think around him.

Jimin obediently pulled away, stepping back so that the two of you were now facing each other. You saw that Jimin decided to forego a shirt, allowing you to get a better view of his sculpted abs. Your eyes immediately caught his tattoo that definitely was not there before: NEVERMIND written in all caps in a scraggly font. There were various scars littering his chest, some of them even looked fresh. What in the hell was he doing in the time that he was gone?

His voice came out genuine but you could hear a tinge of desperation that you hadn’t recognized before, “I meant it, you know?”

“Jimin,” you sighed. You looked up to meet his brown eyes. He looked at you anxiously, craving your forgiveness. “I don’t think you missed me. I think you missed your life.”

“I’m being serious ______. I really fucking miss you. I thought about you everyday,” he continued, trying to convince you.  

“Maybe I would believe you, but there’s four naked girls in your living room right now. Your actions beg to differ.” You grabbed your phone that you left on his dresser and walked to the entrance of his room . Just as you were about to close the door, you turned around to look at him. “You haven’t changed one bit, Park Jimin.”

☙

You slipped off your slides as you re-entered your apartment, the sound of silence overwhelming you. Everything about him was running through your mind as you laid down on your bed, trying to process what had just happened. The scars on his body, the tattoos, his eyes: it was everything about him changed but nothing really had. He still had the same charming smile and idiotic behavior. You tried to close your eyes and finally get some sleep but you were still unsettled from the whole interaction with Jimin. Deciding operation sleep was a no go, you got up from your soft pillows and stretched your body. You knew only one thing would put all of this nervous energy to use: patrolling the city. 

You stepped into your closet and pulled out your suit: black cargo pants with a fitted athletic black tank top tucked in. Underneath your top, you wore a sleeveless blue turtleneck which doubled as a mask. You felt yourself fall into the familiar routine of suiting up, lacing up your boots and pulling your hair into a ponytail. You remember being so nervous the first few times you went patrolling, whether it was for your life or fear of failure, you can’t be sure. But now, you felt calm and relaxed. Even though you could never guess what new dangers would emerge from the depths of the city, you knew the citizens of Seoul could always rely on you. And at the end of the day, that’s what made you truly happy: helping others. It’s why you became a lawyer and it’s also why you donned the identity of Nyx.

Dipping your fingers in a pot of black face paint, you drew a crescent moon facing up on your forehead. You quickly put on your black gloves and pulled up the blue neck of your shirt so it covered your mouth and nose.  You stared at yourself in the mirror and didn’t recognize yourself; you only saw the beloved dark knight of Seoul city: Nyx. Grabbing your two daggers that were sheathed in black leather, you climbed out of your bedroom window. The only benefit of living in an apartment without a balcony was that right next to your window was the fire escape stairs, leading directly to the roof of your building. 

You peered down at Seoul, not seeing the beauty you had just seen from Jimin’s penthouse window, but rather witnessing the darkness and destruction that was slowly consuming the city. Your thoughts were interrupted when you saw the distinct crescent moon symbol that was flipped to form a “U" flash into the dark sky, the symbol of Nyx. It was coming from the Seoul City Police Department and you knew exactly who had signaled it.

You grabbed the nylon rope tucked into your pocket and pulled out a small metal tin. You clicked a button on the side of the tin, transforming it into a grappling hook. After securing the hook on the roof ledge, you rappelled down the building, safely landing on the ground. Tucking the rope and hook into your pockets, you made your way to the building’s garage where your beloved motorcycle was waiting for you.

You hopped on the bike and drove for what seemed like 10 minutes before arriving in front of the police department. You made use of your rope and grappling hook again, as you scaled the building to get to the roof. There, you saw a man with his back towards you wearing a long, black trench coat. 

“Detective Kim,” you called to the man, standing anxiously by the large spotlight with the Nyx symbol plastered on it. 

“Nyx,” he said whipping his head in the direction of your voice, “Good to see you. It’s been awhile.” 

It had been awhile. Detective Kim Seokjin had been only a small-time detective at the SCPD when you first started out. After realizing you both had the same goals and wishes for this city, you and Detective Kim decided to work together, confiding each other in your missions and reports on crime. 

You nodded, “Seoul has been quiet. Too quiet.”

“Isn’t that good?”

“Maybe. Or maybe it means I’m missing something.”

“Missing what?”

“I’m not sure yet. And that’s what makes me afraid.”

“Never thought I would hear those words from the hero of Seoul.”

“I’m not a hero. I’m just doing what I can.”

“The people of Seoul love you. That’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“I’m not ashamed, but I don’t want them to depend on me.”

“Why? Planning a vacation?” he said teasingly.

“Maybe. This really isn't my day job. Can’t be Nyx all the time.” you said, smiling.

“Anyways, I wanted to update you on something that’s been going on. We’ve kept it out of the news so far but with how things are going, I have a feeling that this will make headlines soon. People at the office wanted to take care of it ourselves but I can’t stand by any longer. We need your help.” Detective Kim said handing you a tan file folder. 

You rifled through the file as he continued to speak, “There have been 2 robberies at the two major banks, Bank of Seoul and Seoul Holdings Inc.”

“When did they happen?”

“Bank of Seoul was yesterday afternoon and Seoul Holdings was two days before.”

“Any leads?”

“We think it might be mob related.”

You looked up from the papers to meet Jin’s concerned eyes, “We cleaned up the mob.”

“Maybe they resurfaced, or maybe this is something entirely new we are dealing with.”

“Any idea of where they’re going to hit next?”

“We think Seoul United.”

“Have a unit there at all times. Make sure they keep track of who is coming in and out. Based on these two robberies, the next one is going to happen soon.”

“Got it. I’ll form a team and get them down there as soon as possible.” 

You had reached the end of file when a small business card slipped out and fell to the ground. You knelt down and picked it up, flipping to the front of the card, expecting to see the business card of one of the banks. But it was just a blank card with a demented looking smiley face drawn in blood red ink.

“What’s this?”

“Right. I almost forgot. We found that in the empty bank vault at the Bank of Seoul.”

“Did you have labs run an analysis on this?”

“Yep. They found nothing. No fingerprints, no trace of anything on the card. Completely blank.”

“What about the ink?”

“It’s ink. Not blood.”

“Find out what exact ink this is. Maybe it can give us a lead on something.”

Jin nodded as you handed the file back to him. You grabbed onto your grappling hook. But before you slipped back into the darkness you called out to him, “Keep me posted.”

☙

Waking up was too hard. You were far from a morning person, hitting snooze on your phone alarm until the last possible minute. Between seeing Jimin and meeting Detective Kim, you got a total of four hours of sleep, which was not nearly enough for your strenuous schedule. After hitting snooze for the fourth time, you had to scramble to get ready. You quickly brushed your teeth, washed your face, and combed your hair before changing into a black pantsuit. Slipping your laptop into your leather messenger bag, you blindly grabbed for your keys as you headed out the door, almost stumbling in your black heels. 

You made it to your office just in time, but because of your tardiness in the morning, you weren’t able to get any caffeine. You sighed, blowing the escaped strands of hair from out of your face, you knew it was going to be a long day. You opened your office door and saw your long time best friend sitting at her desk, opposite of yours. 

“Hey ______! Rough morning?” she said, chuckling at your state.

“Hey Sana,” you replied, giving her a quick hug. “ More like a rough night.”

“Who’s the lucky guy? I saw that Park Jimin is back in town,” she said teasingly, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Don’t even get me fucking started. “ You said groaning as you sat down at your desk.

“You went to his party?” she said shocked. “You know, I’m still offended he didn’t invite me. And after all we went through in college. I wrote so many essays for that punk—” 

“I didn’t want to go. He called me. Drunk off his ass.”

“Oh my god, really?” Sana said, pausing her rant about how ungrateful Jimin was and opted to lean forward in her seat to her what you had to say.

“Yeah and he asked me to come over.”

“So did you?”

“I did.”

“______!” She gasped at your actions.

“It’s complicated. But I went over and saw him.”

“What did he want?”

“Nothing. Or well he wanted to talk to me. See me I guess. He apologized.”

“For what? For leaving and not telling you? For breaking your hea—”

“For leaving Sana. He apologized for being gone for six years and for not calling me once.”

“What, he just said sorry and expected you to forgive him?” 

“Yeah I guess,” you said shrugging.

“Men are so fucking stupid.”

‘Tell me about it. Anyways, then I ended up meeting Detective Kim. Well, Nyx did.”

“Damn, you had a long night. What did he say?”

“He said there's been a couple of robberies, one at Bank of Seoul and the other at Seoul Holdings. They think Seoul United is next.”

“What's the plan?”

“He’s gonna set up a unit there to keep watch 24/7.”

“And what's our plan?”

You smiled at her words, “I was hoping Team Nyx could help me out.”

☙

After a long day at the office and figuring out a plan for the bank robberies, you were completely drained and wanted to do nothing except curl up in your bed and watch Netflix. You got home, kicked off your heels, dropped your messenger bag to the ground, and started to walk to your bedroom, thinking about which episode of New Girl you were going to watch. 

Suddenly, the doorbell rang, interrupting your train of thought. You wondered who would show up at your place unannounced at this time. You looked through the peephole of your door to see none other than Park Jimin holding a bouquet of roses. You stepped back from the door exasperated. You thought you had been clear of your hatred for him the other night.

You felt your heart beating slightly faster. Stop it, you chided yourself. It was evident from the other night that Jimin was still the same: a player and a liar. There was no place in your already busy life for someone as reckless as Jimin; you needed to focus and Jimin was an unnecessary distraction. 

You opened the door to Jimin, his hair tousled from the wind. He was wearing a black blazer, with a black shirt tucked into a pair of, you guessed it, black jeans.

“Hi,” was all he said, standing in your doorway and giving his signature smile.

“What are you doing here Jimin?” you said, crossing your arms across your chest. 

“I just wanted to explain myself again. Our talk last night didn’t go as I hoped.”

“And what exactly were you hoping for?” you snarkily.

“Forgiveness?” his wide eyes locked onto yours. 

“Jimin...”  you started to trail off. 

“I’m sorry ______. I told you, I wanted to call you but I just couldn’t.” 

“That’s such bullshit,” you started to close the door but Jimin caught it, pushing it aside to step into your apartment. He closed the door behind him, and he glanced around your apartment, taking in the place before looking back at you.

“______ please, trust me. If I could have called you even for one second just to hear your voice, I would have.” 

You looked into his eyes and saw his sincerity. You didn’t know what to think. You wanted to believe him so badly.

“I—” you started to say but Jimin cut you off.

“I would never do anything to hurt you on purpose, you know that,” Jimin said looking at you intensely. “Can you please forgive me?”

You didn’t want to fight with Jimin anymore. As much as you hated him for what he did, you missed your best friend. And deep down, you knew he was right, that he would never hurt you.

You let out a deep sigh, “Okay Jimin, I forgive you.”

Jimin once again gives his charming smile. He looked like he was about to hug you but refrained himself from doing so. Instead, he handed you the bouquet of roses he had been holding, “For you.”

You were so caught up in your fight with Jimin that you didn’t register the peculiar color of the roses until he handed them to you. They were black roses. The color was as dark as the night sky. You looked at Jimin then back to the flowers. There was no way he would have known right? There were only two people who knew that you were Nyx. Jimin just came back from Seoul so he couldn't possibly know.

“Why black?” you asked carefully, studying his expression and body language for any clues that suggested he knew of your secret identity.

Jimin just shrugged in response. “It’s your favorite color.”

“You still remember?” you asked incredulously, shaking your head.

“You’re a hard person to forget,” Jimin said quietly. He took a step closer to you and you suddenly registered the nonexistent distance between the two of you. You felt his hot breath fanning your face and you felt like your heart was pounding so hard he could feel it. Jimin tilted your chin up so that you were forced to look at him, staring into his brown eyes. You shivered at the contact of his cold fingers against your skin. He looked at your lips before looking back at your wide eyes, silently asking for your permission. 

“I can’t,” you whispered apologetically, trying to push his hand away.

Jimin caught your hands, his metal rings pressing into your hands, as he tried to catch your gaze, “Why not?”

You finally meet his eyes looking at you imploringly, waiting for an answer. 

“I have a boyfriend,” you choked out, knowing those exact words would be like venom to him. 

Jimin immediately let go of your hands at that moment. His expression hardened and he clenched his jaw: his telltale sign of anger. He walked away from you to sit on the navy blue sofa in your living room, spreading his legs as he sat down.

“I see,” he said coldly. 

“You can’t be mad at me. That’s not fair.” You said irritated, turning around to look at him.

“I never said I was mad,” he said, staring at the wooden flooring, not meeting your eyes.

“Jimin, you left. You left for six years and you didn’t tell me. What was I supposed to do? Wait around for you?”

“I just—” Jimin ran his fingers through his hair with frustration before letting his face rest in his hands. “I just thought things would be the same when I came back.” He said helplessly.

“Well, you thought wrong.” you quipped, crossing your arms over your chest, looking away. 

Jimin was quiet for a moment before speaking up, “I’m happy for you. Really. I would love to meet him.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” You scoffed.

“C’mon, we should try to move forward. At least be friends again.”

“Jimin, I just need some time. You can’t just show up in my life unexpectedly and expect everything to be the same. It doesn’t work that way.” You sighed. You opened the door for him, a silent indicator that he should leave. Jimin glanced at the door and your tired expression. 

He got up from where he was sitting and made his way towards the door,  “I understand ______. But know that I’m here for you. Anytime. I just want you back in my life again.”

He looked at you one more time before heading out, leaving you at the doorway as you clutched the black roses. You watched from the window as he got into his car, ignoring how the crushed petals slowly fluttered to the ground.

authors’ note: guysss this is @jimins-filter first posted fic (ah!). so there might be a few things that are a bit confusing in text but if you wanna see references as to how we came up with nyx’s character, Elektra’s costume and fighting style from Daredevil (the Netflix TV show) was a major inspo for Nyx, additionally we did take some style inspo (the crescent moon symbol on the forehead) from the Painted Lady from ATLA. We are super excited for this fic and hope you guys will love it. This is VERY different from strawberry girl so this is something different for me as well. give a follow to @jimins-filter her blog is aesthetic af. ty for reading and let us know what you think so far! 💜💜

[maddiwrites]

Secrets of the Shore (Chapter 22)

Pairing: JJ x OC

Summary: This is just my rewrite of the show Outer Banks with my own twist by adding another main character which also happens to be John B’s twin sister.

Note: Happy Sunday (: Only two more chapters left and I’m sad about it.

Word Count: 6.8k

Chapter 21 Masterlist

My friends drag each other to Heyward's shed where he stores all his useless junk he'll probably never touch again. I always said Pope's dad was a borderline hoarder. But the clutter does nothing to distract me from what's happening to my brother.

I pace back and forth with my hands interlocked on the top of my head. As I move back and forth, my friends keep their eyes trained on me as if I might sprint back to the airstrip.

No one says anything. The four of us are try to defuse the ticking time bomb thats about to blow in all of our heads without actually losing our minds.

I freeze when I hear the familiar hum of a plane fly overhead. I feel my throat tighten and my face heat with frustration. And just like that, Ward Cameron wins again.

"There goes the gold," Pope says and throws his hat across the room.

"Shit!" JJ kicks the closest thing to him which happens to be a three legged wooden table.

"Fuck!" Pope picks up a metal trash bin and throws it across the room, just like his hat.

"Pope!" Kie yells.

"God damn it!" He continues to throw anything he can find. His bomb exploded and he's destroying anything in his path. "Shit! Fuck!" He finds a wooden baseball bat in the heap of the clutter and hits whatever he can find. Glass tables, wooden chairs, more trash bins. I'm almost mesmerized by his movements because I have never seen this side of Pope before. "Shit! Damn it!"

"Pope!" Kie's trying to clam him down while JJ and I just watch with open mouths and raised brows. However, Pope just ignores her and continues to yell and break shit. "Pope!" I can imagine the release Pope must be feeling from this. All my life, I've never seen him act like this. He's usually so composed, always the one to keep us from doing shit like this. I don't know how to react now that roles are reversed. "Pope!"

Pope eventually falls with exhaustion against the arm of a musty green couch and pants to catch his breath.

"Yeah, dude," JJ says slowly. He puts his hand on Pope's shoulder and squeezes. "I was wondering when this was gonna happen. Here you go, chief." JJ holds out his dab pen for Pope to take. Pope looks at it and for the first time, he actually considers it. "A little weed never hurt no one."

"JJ," Kie says, disapproving.

"Relax, Kie."

"You know he doesn't smoke."

Pope ignores both of them and takes the pen from JJ and inhales a large hit. As if this kid couldn't shock me more today.

"Well, maybe not until today."

"Pope."

"Yeah, what is that gonna help?" Pope says. "I lost my scholarship. Walked out in the middle of the interview. Every -" Pope inhales sharply and shakes his head. "It's gone. It's not gonna happen."

"You did that for us?" Kie asks.

"No, not for us. For nothing."

I never thought of silence as being physically heavy, but right now, I feel like I'm being weighed down by a thick fog that I can't swim out of. Pope's right. Despite everything we did right this summer to get something we all deserve, we ended up with nothing except for more problems.

"I'm here for you, Pope," JJ says. "Welcome to my world, okay?"

Kie looks at me for some kind of assistance, but I have nothing to offer. She sighs and looks back at the boys. "JJ -"

"What, Kie? He's right. It doesn't matter anymore."

"You don't have to do that," Kie tells Pope and motions to the weed.

"What do you care?" Pope snaps.

Before this can get any worse, I turn at the sound of footsteps approaching us. My jaw physically hits the ground, at least that's what it feels like, when I see John B.

His eyes are facing forward and his clothes are covered in blood. He looks like he's in some kind of state of shock and I am terrified to find out why.

But my sisterly instincts kick in first. I'm running to him before the others even see him and my hands are pulling his shirt up to make sure the blood isn't his. John B reacts as if I'm not even there and stares ahead.

"John B what happened?" My voice shakes as my eyes scan his body. There's not a even a scratch on him, but I almost wish there was. Because this means the blood belongs to someone else, and I don't want to think that my brother is the reason for it.

"Dude! Dude, you good?" JJ runs up behind me and looks over John B's body with big eyes.

"Oh, my God! John B!"

"Is this yours?"

"Whose blood is that?"

I cup John B's face in my hands and make him look at me. When his eyes finally find mine, I ask, "What happened?"

Before he can answer, cop cars with their sirens on pass us on the road behind us. John B grabs me by the arm and shoves us all back into the shed and we duck behind a wooden slack.

"Shit," Pope curses as his chest moves up and down heavily.

When the coast is clear, John B tells us what happened. Sheriff Peterkin showed up. At first Ward thought she was going to arrest John B for breaking into the airstrip and almost causing a catastrophic accident, but she was there to arrest Ward. Of course Ward wasn't going to go down without a fight and before Peterkin could react, she was shot in the chest. By none other than Rafe Cameron.

"Rafe shot Sheriff Peterkin?" I ask in disbelief.

I always thought Rafe was a lot of things, but I never had cop killer written down on my list. However, I do know that Rafe is the kind of kid who would do absolutely anything to impress his dad. He's been fighting for his attention since he was a tween. Maybe in his own sick way, he thought killing Peterkin was saving his dad.

John B nods. He tells us Peterkin told him to run. And as much as he didn't want to, he was better off with us than dead. Sarah even told him to go as she protected him with her own body while he ran away. Rafe tried to shoot him too but couldn't get his aim down as he sprinted through the woods to get to us.

"What?" I feel my blood turn ice cold when I think about Rafe trying to kill my brother. The one family member I have left. "Why would Rafe want to kill you too?"

John B shrugs. "Because I saw the whole thing."

"So did his sister," I say. "Do you think Sarah is okay?"

"Rafe wouldn't hurt her."

I scoff. "Yeah right."

Now I know that Rafe is pretty much capable of anything worthy to an eternity in hell.  I don't think anyone is safe in his company. Not even Sarah. Maybe Ward.

"Kie, can you give me a ride somewhere?" John B asks.

We sneak through the back roads to get to Kie's house. When we get in her car, John B directs her to the police station. By the time we get there, the sun is completely set, blanketing the town in an eery indigo color.

Everything seems so silent to me now. The hum of Kie's radio, the shuffling of leaves brushing against each other, the bickering between my friends and brother. There's a ringing in my ear that won't go away until my hands are wrapped around Rafe's neck.

I feel like my brain as been replaced by a dark cloud. No ideas, no thoughts, no plans can make me feel any better or lighter. It's like an invisible hand has reached down my throat and twisted my heart right out of my chest.

Peterkin was the one and only person that actually helped John B and I. She kept DCS off our backs for as long as she could, she never rubbed it mine or John B's face that the whole island thought we were delusional when we said our dad was coming back, and she was even going to arrest Ward Cameron for my father's murder.

She didn't deserve to die. Although I wasn't the one who pulled the trigger, I can't help but think that her death is somehow my fault. It was my family she was protecting. She was doing her job, but she could have easily written my dad's death off as an accident like every other cop on this island.

"John B, what are we doing at the police station?" JJ asks when Kie parks the car right outside of the front entrance.

"Somebody's gotta tell them what happened." John B's voice is filled with sadness and guilt. I wish I could pull all this weight off his shoulders and add it to mine. He use to be so optimistic - always the one to cheer me up. Now that it's the other way around, I'm dumbfounded on what to do.

Pope takes another hit of JJ's juul and ends up coughing most of the hit up.

"Oh," JJ says from his seat behind Pope and pats his shoulder twice. "Easy there, chief. Damn."

I ignore the fact that Pope sounds like he's hacking up a lung and turn to look at my brother.

"Are you sure?" I ask him.

"All right. I'm just gonna be real with you right now," JJ says to my brother. "You might end up in the lion's den, but you don't go there on purpose. It's fundamental. Just like my old man always told me, you should never ever trust cops, no matter what the circumstance is."

I scoff at the idea of taking advice from JJ's dad.

"Your old man's an abusive liar," Kie says, looking through the rearview mirror with a scowl on her face.

"I agree with JJ," Pope says. "Fuck the police."

Kie turns to look at him. "You going dark side now?"

"When's the last time the police helped us?" Pope says.

"Peterkin looked out for me, all right?" John B says loud enough to grab everyone's attention. "Tried to, at least." He looks at me. "They need to know."

John B steps out of the car with his head hanging low on his shoulders. I bite down on my bottom lip, contemplating what our next move should be. All I know is that I can't let him do this by himself.

"Wait, John B!" I jump out of the car and follow him to the front door. "You're not going to do this alone."

I wait for John B to argue with me but he doesn't. Instead, he nods his head and leads me into the police station, a place I've been in a couple times by force. Never by choice.

There's a woman at the front desk who looks exhausted and busy. I can hear the mumbling of her radio on her desk and the static after each statement. I'm pretty sure I hear Peterkin's name but I don't know if it's my own head repeating her name over and over again.

"Um...excuse me, ma'am," John B says.

The woman barely looks up from her desk and writes something down on her pad of paper in front of her. "This is not a good time, kid." Had she just taken the time to look up, she would see the guy standing in front of her is covered in blood. Maybe then, she would be more worried. Instead, she focuses on her radio. "Adam, advise if you need air tran."

I open my mouth to give this woman a piece of my mind, but John B cuts me off. His voice soft and broken. "I know who shot the Sheriff."

I force myself to look up at him. He looks like he's trying his best to keep himself composed when all I know he wants to do is collapse on the nearest chair and just...breathe.

The woman freezes and finally takes in John B's appearance. She studies the stain on his shirt and the sweat on his skin, the hollowness behind his eyes and his shaky hands.

"You stay put," She says as she backs away. "I'll get a deputy."

I look around the station and feel an uneasy swirling motion in my stomach. It's unsettling. Like JJ's words are getting in my head. Maybe coming to the cops wasn't such a good idea.

My head snaps towards the radio when it statics to life again. "Central, three Vick. We have a suspect in our 31. John Routledge."

My blood runs cold and my eyes flash up to meet John B's. He's staring down at the radio like it's an actual person and he's frozen in shock.

Another woman's voice comes up on the radio. "Copy that. All units, be on the lookout for John B Routledge."

"Sixteen year old white male. Six foot. Last seen wearing board shorts, a 'Bad Brains' T shirt, and a faded red hoodie."

"Copy that."

My hands grab John B's to drag him out of here. My head scrambles to come up with our best plan, but I know staying here isn't it. Ward somehow managed to spin this around on my brother. I shouldn't be shocked, but I keep managing to be knocked out with more surprises right when I think things couldn't get any worse.

Just as I'm about to pull John B out of there, two cops come out from the back and stare at the two of us with big eyes. A man and woman dressed in their faded brown deputy uniforms. My eyes trail down to their hands that are both steady on the gun in their holster, ready to aim if they need to.

"Just...breathe. All right?" The woman cops holds out her hand as if to tell John B to stay calm.

The other officer nods. "John B. Do what she says."

"Look, I didn't...I didn't do it, okay?" John B tries to explain but his voice his shaky and lacks any sort of confidence.

"Dont...move."

"Go..." My voice is barely a hushed whisper but my tug on his arm is strong. "Go, go, go. Run!"

John B and I sprint out of the station before any officers can guard the door. I can barely hear them yelling after us through the drumming in my ears.

"Kie! Start the car!" John B yells as we basically body slam ourselves into her car. "Start the car, Kie!"

I basically rip the back door open and stumble into JJ's lap after tripping on my own feet. Everyone's yelling. The people in the car. The people running out of the police station.

"What? John B!" Kie yells as her hands shake. She tries putting the keys back into the ignition but her hands are trembling too much.

"The cops!"

"Shit!" JJ curses and looks over my shoulder at the cops who are sprinting towards us.

"Go!" John B yells at her. She turns the key but of course the car decides not to start. "Kie, drive! Go!"

"Go Kie!" Now I'm yelling at her.

"Stop the car!" One of the cops yell with her gun raised at the back window.

"I'm going! I'm sorry!" Kie says as anxiety cripples through her.

"Right now!" The woman cop from inside approaches the car. She tries to open it but the door is locked.

"What did you do?" Kie yells at us.

Kie moves the vehicle slowly out of the parking lot, but the woman is relentless. She runs with us side by side and hooks her fingers around the door handle.

"Open it!" JJ yells at John B.

John B opens the door to knock the cop off the car. The tactic works and she rolls on the ground. Only now we'll probably be written up for assault too.

I fall back into my seat and pant for breath. My head falls back against the cushioned seat and my eyes close. Okay, okay, think, Marleigh. Think.

Ward killed my dad. Ward stole my gold. Rafe killed Peterkin. And somehow, my brother is the one being framed for murder. Make it all make sense.

I hate them. The Camerons. Kooks. All entitled, greedy sons of bitches who don't know how to handle rejection or the word 'no.' They think all their meals should be served on a silver platter and kids like us are born for the sole purpose to serve them. They deserve to rot. They deserve to feel all the pain we do.

And yet, they don't. And they never will because that's the life we live. A life where people like Ward and Rafe Cameron can get a way with murder because no one would blink twice at their lame excuse of a story.

A lie.

It all boils down to money. Money we almost had right in our pockets. But now it's gone as is pretty much everything else in my life. My house. My dad. Maybe now my brother.

JJ laces his fingers with mine and gives my hand a gentle squeeze. I keep my eyes closed but let my head fall on his shoulder. I focus on his touch. How his thumb delicately rubs against my skin in a light up and down motion. How his lips are able to make my heart flutter when they kiss the top of my head. How his soft whispers, telling me everything is going to be okay, are sweet enough to make me melt into a buttery mess.

Maybe not everything's gone. I still have JJ. The constant in my life. The one who can always make me feel better even in the shittiest of situations. My sun on my darkest nights. My sight into the future when I can't even think of tomorrow.

I don't let JJ go. Even when Kie parks the car back at Heyward's shed under an open roof. We have literally nowhere else to go. The cops will undoubtedly check all of our homes, including Kie's. The Chateau is definitely surrounded by cops, waiting for John B and I to make the dumb move of going back there. And Tannyhill isn't an option anymore.

The sun is already poking out behind the trees as morning approaches. My body aches from sleeping in this cramped car, but I try to ignore the pain and focus on the fact that we're all still together. For now.

The five of us sit in silence. Some of us try to wrap our heads around what just happened and try to come up with another plan. The rest of us, like me, are so tired, they can't even remember what their middle name is.

The only noise in the car comes from Kie's radio. "...should be functional within twenty four hours." Meanwhile, another cop car with loud sirens pass us on the road without sparing this car a second glance. "And still, no arrest in the shooting death of Sheriff Susan Peterkin. The state police have issued a statement regarding a local person of interest, a juvenile from -"

Kie switches the radio off and glances back at John B and I. My brother has his seat reclined all the way back and is staring up the at the ceiling of the car. JJ has moved so his back is against the car door with one leg bent at the back of the seat and the other one on the floor. I sit between his legs and play with the necklace he gave me a couple days ago. Crazy enough, it feels like years since he gifted me this.

"Let's game this out," JJ is the first to speak. He looks at Kie and Pope in the front seat. "Maybe you guys can help, being the smart ones and all, but..." He sighs. "...who are the cops going to believe? Ward Cameron or us? So the accuser is a big shot developer, kind of lord of the island, got the governor on speed dial kind of person, and the accused...is John B, who is...pretty much a homeless sixteen year old boy at the moment."

"Thanks." John B deadpans.

"Okay, man. Yucatan, all right? I'm saying that's the only option." John B gives him a look to stop talking but of course JJ doesn't take the hint. "What other options do you have?"

"Enough with the Mexico bullshit," Kie says.

"Sarah will bail me out," John B says a lot more confidently than I feel about the situation.

"She did witness the whole thing," Kie says.

"Thank you."

"You really think she's going to pick you over her own family?" I can't help the attitude that drips off my tongue with each word. Sarah's a nice girl and I really liked her. But Rafe and Ward are her family. "No offense, but you've really only known each other for a few weeks."

"Not happening, bro. Okay?" JJ says, agreeing with me. "We gotta get you off the island."

"The ferry," Pope speaks up for the first time all morning. "It's the only way."

"Exit stage left while you still can. Before the entire island is on lockdown."

"Guys, just get down," Kie slumps further into her seat as another round of sirens pass us.

"Sarah's not a Pogue, John B," Pope says. He has a point. Sarah hasn't been friends with all of us for that long. I almost wouldn't even blame her if she took her family's side.

"Yeah. You can't stay here, man," JJ says, tightening his hold on me.

Another moment of silence passes through us and I wonder if JJ's right. Adrenaline on the island is at an all time high. No cop, no lawyer, no person is going to believe John B over Ward. Not without evidence. We need time to clear John B's name. So maybe getting him off the island would be best. Even if it's just temporary.

~ ~ ~

When Kie parks in front of the ferry, Pope hops out to buy the tickets and Kie moves to the passenger seat. I offered to go with him but JJ told me that was a bad idea because I would get recognized as John B's sister.

So here I am, useless and laying down as flat as I can next to John B to avoid being seen through the windows.

I look at John B. His eyes are closed and his chest moves heavily up and down. His fingers flex and clench into fists every couple of seconds. I wonder if his fractured hand is starting to hurt him.

"The first thing we're doing when we get off this stupid island is buying you a new outfit," I say. I cringe in disgust when I look at Peterkin's blood stain on his clothes. Another reminder that she's dead.

I look up to the front seat window when Pope comes back to the car. He's mumbling to himself and I think he has something in his hand.

"Okay. All right, no."

"Pope, can you act normal?" Kie says through clenched teeth and unlocks the door for Pope to get in.

"Okay, um...okay, so, bad news. The ferry's closed, and there is this."

Kie takes a piece of paper from his hand and looks at it. Her eyes close for half a second and she shakes her head. "Shit."

"What is that? What is this?" John B asks.

JJ snags the paper out of Kie's hand and looks at it. "Well, John B, uh...this is a good framer of you." He turns the paper over and shows my brother and I a picture of John B on a 'WANTED' sign with a cash reward of $25,000.

"Okay, so the whole island's looking for John B right now," Pope says.

"That's a lot of money," I can't help but laugh. "Gotta say, John B. Didn't think you would be worth that much. Hell, maybe I'll turn you in."

"Congratulations John B, you're famous," JJ says.

John B slaps the outside of my thigh with the back of his hand. I scoff and slap him back, which causes a strings of slaps and hits, though mostly playful, and some a little harder.

"Stop. Guys, stop!" Kie says loudly. JJ pulls my hands away from my brother and folds them in my lap. He gives me a warning look, like a teacher would their student, and it makes me want to laugh about how bizarre this whole thing is. "We got to get to the HMS. We need small, no running lights -"

"It's at the Chateau, Kie," John B says.

"And I wonder if the cops got the entire place taken out," JJ says sarcastically. "Let me think. Oh, yeah. No. they definitely have that place locked down."

"Let me think. Just give me a second," John B says frustratingly.

"JJ," Pope says.

"What?" He looks up.

"Does your dad still have the boat? The cigarette boat, the Phantom. The one he used to race."

I look up at JJ, but I can't read his emotions. He keeps his face unfazed. "Maybe."

"You could get right up the coast, no problem. Okay, look - "

"It won't be easy, Pope."

"The surf's running from three to four."

"I don't know where the keys are."

"Well, find them."

"I'm thinking," JJ snaps.

"Why is nobody moving forward?" Pope yells at the car in front of us and bangs the palm of his hand on the steering wheel.

I rub my fingers in a circular motion on my temples and close my eyes again. Words are being spat at about a million miles per hour. It's hard to keep up and my blood vessels twist with anxiety.

"Can you relax?" Kie hisses. "JJ, how much weed did you give him?"

"Guys," John B says. "Your car's on the poster."

Pope ignores everyone and hits his fist against the horn of the car. "Can we move it?"

"Pope!"

I'm going to puke.

"Come on!"

"Don't honk the horn!" Kie says, hitting Pope's arms away from the wheel.

"It's that guy. Right there!" I hear a voice outside our window say. The voice sounds young. Kid-like.

"Shit," John B tries pushing himself further into his seat. I didn't even realize he sat up in the first place.

"We got a snitch. Pope, turn the car on," JJ says, sitting up in his seat and leaning forward to hit Pope on the shoulder.

"We get $25,000 if we find him!" The kid says.

"Hey! He's right there!" Another voice. Manly. Great, we're drawing a crowd.

"Hey! We gotta go!" Kie yells.

"Pope, go!" I yell.

"Turn the car on!" JJ yells.

We're all yelling and I think my eardrums might burst.

"I found him first!" The kid says to the man.

"Hell you did, you little bastard!"

"Pope, turn the frickin' car on!" JJ yells.

The crowd starts growing around the car. John B turns into my side and pulls his hood up over his head.

"I am trying!" Pope yells back at us.

"Turn the car on!"

"Go, go, go!"

Pope jerks the car forward and hits the car in front of us. I jolt forward in the middle seat and stop myself from going through the windshield by pressing my two arms on the front two seats.

I hear the crowd gasp and move backwards to avoid the nutso in the front seat. Now that I think about it, who let Pope drive in the first place?

"Pope! Jeez!" JJ curses.

"Dude, back up!" Kie yells.

Pope puts the car in reverse and steps on the gas, but hits another car in the process.

"Hey!"

"The other way!"

JJ pats Pope's shoulder again. "It's okay! Pope, just go!"

Pope hits the corner of Kie's front bumper against the car in front of us again but continues to step on the gas until we're completely out of our spot.

"What are you doing?" Kie yells at him.

"We'll bump out!"

"Watch out!" I yell when I spot a couple of people crossing the street before Pope can kill them.

"Whoa! Whoa! Watch out!" Pope yells and swings his hands in front of him to motion for the people to jump out of the way. "Watch out!" My back hits the back of my seat, hard. Pope has the audacity to laugh. Head back and all. "Oh my god."

"Pope!" Kie yells. "What the fuck?"

"I'm living my best life right now," Pope says through laughter.

Kie slumps in her seat. "My mom's gonna kill me."

"I should be the last to say this, but you are not okay to drive," JJ says. I turn to glare at him and he puts his hands up in the air to surrender. He looks back out to the road and yells, "Stop!"

Pope stomps on the brakes and sends us skidding to a stop. JJ's arm whips out to the right to stop me from flying forward.

We're gonna die.

Pope looks over his shoulder at my brother. "John B, get out."

"What?" I glare.

"He's right," JJ says and my head snaps to him. He ignores me. "We'll draw the cops, you run."

"Shit," John B curses and unbuckles himself.

"I'll get the rig, and I'll meet you in the dump tomorrow, okay? Three o'clock, okay?"

"Wait, I'm coming with you," I say, but John B shakes his head.

"No. You stay here. Stay with them."

"I'm not leaving you!" I fight back and look at him like he has two heads. He must think I'm crazy if he thinks I'm going to let him run away by himself.

"JJ -" John B looks at him.

"On it. Go!" JJ's hands wrap around my waist, forcing me to stay in the car. I try prying his fingers off of me, but he's a lot stronger than I am. John B starts running off. "Three tomorrow at the dump!" When John B disappears behind the tree, JJ finally lets me go. I turn around and shove him back by his chest and slide over to the seat that John B was just in. JJ sighs and looks forward again. "Come on, go, go, go!"

Pope steps on the gas again and veers forward.

I look out the window and ignore the queasiness that has fully taken over my stomach. I know John B and JJ were right to keep me in the car. I would only slow John B down and get myself in trouble and therefore, be completely useless in helping my brother. But I can't shake the feeling that I'm abandoning him.

~ ~ ~

Pope, for some reason, is still driving. I don't know where he's going but it seems like we're on our way to Figure Eight. Pope turns on the radio, blasting one of North Carolina's hip hop stations.

JJ leans forward in the middle seat and pushes his head between Kie and Pope. He's managing to laugh like we're on some joy ride on Memorial Day weekend. "Pope, you clocked that car, man. Like that was so bad!" JJ shakes his head. "I'm just glad I'm not driving now."

" Pull over." Kie tells Pope. "JJ, it's not funny. He shouldn't be driving."

JJ grimaces. "Mama's mad."

Pope pulls the car over and switches seats with Kie. A delirious grin stays on the high boy's lips as he settles in the passenger seat.

"What are you -"

"Where are we going?" I ask Kie as she makes a familiar right turn.

"The last place they're gonna look." Kie says.

~ ~ ~

By the time Kie pulls up to Tannyhill, the sun has disappeared into the horizon and the pit of my stomach is the size of a category five hurricane. I can't remember the last time I ate or drank anything and the pounding in my head feels like a hundred bullets are penetrating my skull.

Kie's brilliant idea is to somehow get to Sarah and convince her to go to the police to confess what actually happened.

"Perfectly focused," Pope says to himself, which makes me glare at him. Pope is anything but focused.

"You sure this is a good idea?" JJ says.

"She's the only one who can clear John B," Kie says.

"Last place they'll look because of how stupid it is."

Kie ignores JJ and gets out of the car with Pope following right behind her. When I open the door, JJ pulls me back and closes the door again.

I look at him. My first reaction is to be concerned. Something in JJ's expression makes me fold. For a second I forget the mess we're in and I get lost in his blue eyes. It's just me and JJ and the world outside of this car no longer exists.

His warm hand wraps around my smaller one and he pulls me closer into him. His other hand cups my face, right underneath my jaw. My face feels like it's physically sparkling with the touch of his breath and forget butterflies - there is a zoo in the pit of my stomach. I glide into JJ like magnet.

His lips press into mine and I cave in. I pull him close enough to where I'm straddling him. Time stops as does my breathing. My fingers run through his blonde hair, tugging on the ends. He stifles back a moan and my face flushes pink.

I pull back for breath and rest my forehead against his. I don't know how many more times we're going to get to do that. And it hurts me thinking it might come to an end.

"I'm sorry," I say.

JJ ignores me. "When we get to Yucatan, we're getting a bungalow. We're going to live in bathing suits and get drunk off of pina coladas every day. Skinny dipping is going to be our main source of exercise - well, other than the hot dangerous sex we're gonna have every night. I'm never going to leave your side and I'm going to keep you safe until the day we die. In a few years, we'll get married. You're gonna wear that dress you wore to Midsummers and we're gonna have beautiful beach babies who will go on to win surfing championships by the time they're ten because they're going to be prodigies. Our prodigies. And John B is going to be there with us. Because he's not going to jail for a crime he didn't commit. Okay?"

I don't even realize tears are streaming down my face until he's wiping his thumb against my wet cheek.

"Promise?" My voice cracks and I really wish it didn't. But that's the life I want. That's the life I need. I don't care if it's in Yucatan or in the middle of a deserted island. I just need my boys, Kie, and Pope.

JJ kisses my left cheek. Then my right and my nose. "I promise."

"I love you, J."

"And I love you. Everything is going to be okay. I'm going to make sure you're okay."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Okay."

JJ laughs. "Okay."

As much as I don't want to leave him, as much as I'd rather stay here with JJ and forget about all our problems, I know I can't. Because Kie is probably freaking out, waiting for me. Because John B is on the run somewhere and I need to do something, anything to help him.

"I should probably..."

JJ rolls his eyes playfully. "Yeah I know. Be quick. Okay?"

I nod and jump out of the car before my head or my heart can make me do otherwise. I push my legs, that feel like rubber, over the stone wall that lines the Cameron's property.

I stop in my tracks when I hear Pope and Kie in some kind of intense conversation...well as intense as Pope can handle right now. I think he's still super high.

"Pope! Pope! Pope! Sh!" Kie says in a hushed tone.

"Hey, I'm trying to tell you, I love you."

Oh shit. I look at the stone wall I just jumped over and consider jumping back over it to avoid eavesdropping on this conversation.

"First of all, I need you to be quiet," Kie says.

"Okay, yeah. Quiet, I mean -"

"No. Stop talking, like, now." Kie says. This time, Pope doesn't speak. "Second of all...thank you for saying that."

I can't help but physically cringe at that statement. Because I know what's coming next.

"Okay," Pope chuckles.

"Now, that's very sweet, but it's - look it's not gonna happen."

"Okay, well, why not?"

This is like a car wreck you can't look away from. I had a feeling Pope was in love with Kie for years now. But he never acted on it. Didn't even flirt with her the way JJ did before we were together. A part of me always hoped he did. Because I wanted to see how Kie would react. I think the two of them would be really cute together. Kie could teach Pope to take more risks and Pope could give her a beautiful life that didn't require her working for her parents forever. They compliment each other. Always have.

"Because Pogues can't mack on other Pogues."

Pope scoffs. "That rule doesn't make sense, and nobody follows it. I mean look at JJ and Marleigh -"

"Look, I - I want something different."

"Okay, I-"

"I - I wanna go to Antartica, and I wanna ride camels..."

"I want to do those things with you."

"No. Pope, it's not gonna work."

"I want to be that person!"

"No. It's not gonna happen," Kie shakes her head. God, this is brutal. I can't wait to tell JJ. "Do you understand what I'm saying? Like..." Kie sighs. "Look, I know that that's really hard to hear right now, but we don't have time for this, and this is a really bad place to do it." She pauses and Pope doesn't respond. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah..." He says, but his voice has completely changed. It's dark and cold and doesn't match my Pope's personality.

"Are you ready for the plan, or..."

"Yeah."

"Okay..." Kie says and this is when I decide to make my entrance. I can't help with the situation at hand but at least I can cause a distraction.

So I cough. "Sorry for the hold up. JJ and I were just fighting over who has to be look out. So..." I force myself to look between Pope and Kie as if I didn't just witness their whole conversation. I try not to focus on the tear streak down Pope's cheek and look at Kie. "Ready?"

Kie nods and leads us towards the Cameron's. A house I almost called my home.

Kie is in charge of getting to Sarah Cameron by her bedroom window while I stay with Pope and create a distraction. We decided it was best if one of us stayed with Pope so I offered myself, considering what I just watched.

Pope still seems to be upset. He's not exactly being quiet trying to stay hidden like we should be.

"Gotta stick to the plan," Pope mumbles to himself and plays with the grill. I find the closest pillow on their patio set and place it on top of it. "I like camels. I like Antartica."

"Pope..." I say softly. The last thing I want is to piss him off more but he's making me nervous.

He ignores me. "What's wrong with that plan?" He bends down and picks up a rubber duck in a paramedic costume and looks at it thoughtfully. "Same." I don't know exactly what that means but he throws the duck into the grill and finds the lighter fluid. When he saturates the pillow...and duck, he turns the grill on. The fluid quickly ignites and flames shoot out from the grill. Pope's head is close enough to the fire that his hat catches on fire. "Shit!"

"Holy shit," I throw my arm at his head and knock the hat off of him. I stomp on it until the flame dies under my sneakers and pull him behind the closest tree that can hide us both.

Less than a minute later, I hear two pairs of footsteps come out. I recognize Ward's voice as he curses at the destructed grill until he stops and mutters the name "Sarah" under his breath and makes a beeline back in side.

Taglist: @notyourcupofteax @acvross-the-universe @jjmaybankzz @moniamaybank @realistic-breadstick @urbinoutfiters @jeeperky @brebear121 @x-lulu @freddymaybank @jjpouggues @lemur46 @is-it-really-a-secret @kkmikayla @folkloverr @alexa-playafricabytoto @jjxrudy @migilini @stellarskys @rochyu @itsagurl @dazzlingnights 

[whump-town]

Into Your Arms

@genevievedarcygranger this one’s for you (I would have done more but the other’s sucked ass)

Various ways Aaron Hotchner stumbles his way into his loved ones arms only to give them heart attacks because he’s a drama queen with awful timing (and inspired by this post)

(1) Haley

He tells her everything that he can when he gets home each night. A second debrief where he sits on the couch, anxiously rubbing at her fingers, and is allowed to feel the impact of what occurred. She knows it’s just the honeymoon phase, that’s why he still greets each day with a smile and promises her it’s not that bad. He’s still got that look in his eyes like he can save the world or eat it whole like he hasn’t decided but when he does...

She thinks that if there was ever a man who could succeed, it’s going to him. His background is so drastically different from everyone else there. Not the son of a politician, hardly the son of a lawyer. Aaron has dragged himself here bleeding, nothing more than roadkill to these men. He might not have been able to pour himself into these cases as they had, doesn’t have the experience, but he’s lived many of them. Felt abuse and escaped his monster’s hands. Maybe she’d just needed him to be different. Safe for once. 

But isn’t that what all those other men had wanted too?

It’s midnight when he gets home. She’s already in bed when she hears him fighting his bike into the door, the loud clatter of the pedals and the handles refusing to fit. All before he shouts angered and explosive and not nearly under his breath-- “fuck”-- before he gives up and throws it out onto the porch. Desperate with those thoughts that tell him everything is out to get him, that’s he’s alone in his misery.

She jumps when he slams the door, not expecting the sound from her typically very timid, soft-spoken husband. The man who will drop a dish or a pot and comes to find her to make sure he didn’t scare her. She’s known him for nearly all her life and she’s heard him utter maybe five curse words. It’s how she knows that what greets her downstairs will not be her Aaron but something broken, something like the boy who feverishly tried to convince her that his bruises and scars were something of her active imagination. The boy killing himself to save everyone else. 

“Aaron?” She comes down the stairs, making sure to hit every creaky board so that he can hear her coming. He’s not in the living room. None of the lights are on but with the street lights pouring in she can make out just enough, and he’s not there. She searches it twice, making sure her eyes don’t deceive her but he’s not there. “Aaron?” she comes around the side of the room and stops.

He’s standing in the kitchen, shoulders shaking. She can hear his soft intakes of breath, the way he presses his hands into his face to muffle the sounds of his sobs. “Oh, baby.” She comes around him, keeping her distance until she’s standing in front of him. Watching as he wipes at his face, jaw quivering as he fails to hide the tears streaming down his face. “Aaron,” she hesitates to touch him, waits until she’s certain he’s calmed down enough not to flinch at the contact. 

She starts with a hand on his shoulder-- this is the hardest part about loving him. No matter how many years she’s been here, no matter how long it’s been since he’s seen or talked to or been hurt by his father every time is like the first time. Like he’s still just a kid standing in his kitchen waiting to get beaten for something beyond his control. 

He lets her get closer, anxiety growing but he wants her there. Knows it won’t get better until she’s got both arms around him so he wills his body to remain stationary. He whimpers when she touches his back but she keeps going until their chest touch and there is, he’s right there. She wraps him as tight as she can. Feels his heart beat against her chest.

“Okay, okay--” she’s not ready for how quickly his knees give out from beneath him. She pulls him back when it startles him, holding his arms with her own, willing herself stronger to keep him down. “You’re okay.”

He shakes his head, bowing in until his face is in her shoulder. “No,” he rasps. “She was right there,” he cries. “I had her in my arms, Haley. I felt--” he chokes on his own words. Chest heaving. “She died and I held her, she wasn’t alone but I couldn’t do anything.” 

She hates the pain in his voice, the way he shakes nearly feverishly against her. 

“She was seven,” he cries, “and I held her the entire time, I promise I did. I tried but she just kept bleeding. She was so tiny, I don’t even know how she had so much blood. I hurt her, Haley. She cried when I put pressure on her wounds. She was scared and all I did was hurt her.” He’s frantic, trying to make her see his reasoning. See him for what he sees, the thing he flinches from in mirrors. 

She just holds him and waits for morning.

(2) David Rossi

Dave is going to put a tracker in the kid’s boxers. He’s fairly certain Haley might hate him but she might okay this idea, so long as nothing like this happens again.

“He’s like ten feet tall,” Max grunts, “how the hell did you lose him?”

Dave shoots him a glare in the rearview mirror. “I didn’t lose him!” He presses on the gas pedal, the old car groaning as it accelerates. There’s nothing David Rossi likes more than playing Mr. Cool & Collected and there’s nothing that Aaron freaking Hotchner has accomplished more than making Dave feel like the frantic father to a toddler that can’t just stand still in the store. It’s kind of ruining the badass vibe thing he claims so feverishly. It’s hard to be a hot FBI agent when he looks like those dads in the store, running up and down the aisle calling out for their child.

“Alright,” Jason soothes, reaching over to squeeze Dave’s elbow. He looks at the picture of calm but he can feel his own fears rising as the gauge climbs steadily over seventy miles per hour. “Easy, Dave. Have some faith in him, okay? You’ve put in the time, he’s a smart kid.” A blind hope sort of faith but all things considered (with the exclusion of the fact that Aaron is like a fire-bug and seems to not understand that you run from danger not to it) he’s has a good head on his shoulders.

“Right,” Dave mumbles. God, he should have left Aaron in Seattle.

They find him in a field and when Dave hears the deputy calling in his description-- early thirties, dark hair, slender build-- his breath catches in his throat. He’s expecting the kid from Seattle, whose gangly height had made Jason wince and Max laugh. Who drinks too much coffee and trips over everything to be brought back to him on a stretcher. A sheet thrown over his body. Suddenly all those jokes, the way Max pointed out Aaron’s ankles hang off stretchers, would fall bitter.

But instead, he sees that ten-foot-tall, 99% all-leg toddler that he hired and his throat dries.

There are deep, dark circles around his eyes. Too many cuts to count on his face, some actively dropping blood onto his dress shirt, but he still smiles. Still raises a hand to wave when Jason shakes his head and huffs out “that kid is a piece of work”. He leans heavily on the deputy at his side, wincing and limping but he’s upright and alive.

Dave gets to him first. Tearing through the tall grass to end up, chest heaving from the run, right in front of Aaron. He points a finger up at him, anger melting at the sight of just how tired he looks. How young he really is and Dave hates himself for bringing him into this stupid mess.  “Don’t you ever do something like that again, do you understand me?” Is this what it feels like to finally find your kid in the endless aisles of Walmart? Because he’s livid but he wants to pull this big oaf into a hug and never let him go. “You could have been killed. Do you know how much paperwork that is?”

Aaron smirks, tilting just a bit and wincing when he puts pressure on broken ribs.

“Come here,” Dave says far too angrily to make it clear he’s on the verge of tears here. He pulls Aaron down, cupping the back of his head closer and wrapping his other arm across his back. “Big old idiot,” he chides sniffling to keep his tears at bay. Dave can feel him shaking, shivering despite the humidity looming over them thickly. Making even the air nearly unbreathable it’s so thick.

Aaron grunts, shifting in Dave’s arms but not away. Just trying to be comfortable but his ribs light up like a match has been struck inside him. “Rossi,” is all the warning he can get out, knees rolling out from beneath him. He hits the ground with a thud, Dave grunting to keep him from falling completely.

Dave grabs him, wincing when Aaron’s eyes roll back into his head and his mouth slacks open. Body jerking.

“It’s a seizure,” the deputy drawls. Dave is too shocked to fight as the deputy eases Aaron to the ground, rolling him onto his back, and holding him on his side. “You have to time it.” Dave looks down at his watch but he’s unable to think-- unable to breath as he hears Aaron moan in pain, crying softly as his body jerks beyond his control.

The deputy rubs Aaron’s chest, whispering something softly until Aaron’s eyes peel back open. His choked breathes easing into breathless pants, confused mumbles leaving his mouth. He doesn’t pull away from their touch, if anything Dave thinks he might actually press his face into Dave’s leg. Holding on a little tighter to Dave’s hand. “My son used to have them,” he tells them both. “You’ll be tired for a while but you’ll probably be fine.”

Unless it’s a brain bleed or a severe concussion or brain damage or a thousand other things.

“Da--Dave?”

He leans closer, squeezing Aaron’s hand and rubbing at his back. “I’m right here, you’re okay.”

Aaron peels an eye open, that signature scowl slipping into place. He looks like himself for a few moment as he looks around and artfully deducts, “I’m laying in the mud.” Leave it to Aaron. “It’s cold.”

Dave thinks again to the sweat pouring down everyone else’s backs. To the humidity so thick it should be considered a solid at this point, defying all laws of matter. “Shut up,” he says entirely too softly to be taken as it should be. A jab, a taunt. “You’re always cold.”

The crunching of grass betrays the medics coming in behind them but Dave doesn’t leave Aaron’s side. He hears the deputy tell them about the seizure. He smiles down at Aaron, brushing back a strand of hair. “I’m putting a tracker in your underwear. Gonna handcuff you to me next time we go anywhere.” And as Aaron’s eyes slip closed, loosing his battle with fighting his body, he smiles.

Dave already complains that he walks too fast, how would handcuffing them together solve anything?

(3) Penelope Garcia

They entrusted him in her care. She’d seen the hesitation in Emily’s eyes, watched her move back to Aaron’s side twice before averting her eyes and going to stand back by Dave. As if physically putting distance between them would solve the gut-rotting feeling Emily has that she’s abandoning him. That they’re all awful for leaving him but there are no other options. They leave him and they go solve this case and they can come right back as soon as it’s over.

“I’ll watch him,” Garcia promises. “We’ll be okay.”

And it’s relieving to know that it’s Garcia who will be here. It’s unspoken the connection between Garcia and Hotch. No need to review the ways he won’t even behave for Emily or Dave, he will succumb to Garcia’s nurturing ways. Let her tuck blankets around him and fuss with him about resting when he wants to sign himself out. He’s far more hesitant to hurt her. He loves her just a little bit more.

“Call if you need anything,” Derek reminds her again, as he stalls at the door. Looking back between Garcia and Hotch, convinced there is no way this goes over smoothly. No way Hotch doesn’t burn her trying to self-destruct and he’s afraid of what that will do to both of them. Garcia has ever right to be wounded by the daggers Hotch throws when he’s down-- a wounded animal cornered, snapping and teeth barred fighting with all he has left. But if Hotch sees the blood, sees the way that he hurts them… He doesn’t need any help placing those knives in his chest,  prying his ribs open to see his heart. Trying to convince himself, as his blood flows freely over his hands, that his human. 

They’re all terrified of what will happen this time. As they are every time he goes down. How much longer until the next time? How close will he let them get? How much blood is it going to take? 

“We’ll be okay,” Garcia says again because she’s still trying to believe it herself. 

But she knows that when he wakes up, he will be someone else entirely. An animal biting it’s leg off to escape, unaware that is leaves that mutilated limb behind that they will never get free. A few feet. Maybe a mile. Blood loss and infection will set in and they will die alone. Panting but free. 

Aaron never cares about what he has to loose, he  just has to get free. 

The drugs hold him back for a day. She sits there, expecting every little hitch in his breathing to be the start, but the next inhale comes and all she has is a pained groan or a soft sigh. 

She falls asleep, laptop precariously tipping off her hips, when he wakes. He doesn’t make a sound, just peels his eyes back and takes in his surroundings. He’s panicked, on the edge, and he sees her but he can’t say a word. He’s too tired, too drugged to even try to make the great escape he’s already formulating in his mind. 

She hears the monitors pick up, something shifting in the room. “Sir,” she gasps but she’s a little too late. He’s already sitting up, hunched down and over himself. “Are you okay? Should I--” 

The door is thrown open, startling them both with the bright lights from the hall into the dark room. 

“Hotch are you okay?” she stays right beside him, trying to get him to say something. Anything.

The nurses buzz around him, not as frantic as she feels just quick practiced movements. She watches them give up trying to move Hotch’s arms, raising the sleeve of his gown up and plunging something into his arm. They step back, going to the machines.

“Hotch?” she tries again, softer. 

He turns his head, eyes darting between hers.

“Are you okay?” she touches his shoulder and nearly jumps in surprise when he leans into her. She hesitates for only a second-- mind racing to understand what’s happening right now. Hotch who avoids hugs and hates attention, leaning into her. Seeking out comfort. “It’s okay,” she whispers, pulling his shoulders closer to her. “You’re okay.” 

She can feel him deflating, all of him now against her. Head on her shoulder and his other arm, not the one pinned between their bodies, trying to reach closer. His breaths even out, no longer quick and shallow as they had been before. 

“It was a sedative,” one of the nurses assures her. “He’s okay. He just needs to rest.”

Garcia nods and tries to pretend like that idea doesn’t terrify her. She’ll call Derek or maybe Dave just someone later and tell them about this. How quickly Hotch had just gone limp in her arms, unable to hold his body up. She’ll cry in the shower and probably every night after this-- is that how desperately he needs a hug? Should she have really been listening to him all these years and skipping him while showering the others in affection? 

She doesn’t fall back asleep, she sits up with him. Listening to his breathing and calming him back down before he can wake up or work himself into a nightmare. She’ll make up for when she wasn’t there and vow that once he’s back on his feet, she’s going to pull him down into a hug and she’s never going to let go.

[ohmyjinsus]

that’s what friends do

kim hanbin x female! reader 

college! au (non idol) || 7.7k 

mostly fluff, quite a bit of swearing, some suggestive themes, pretty much just friends to lovers nonsense because I’m a sucker for that 

summary: you’re drunk and locked out of your apartment so what do you do? call your best friend hanbin, who you just happen to be in love with, and stay the night at his place, what could go wrong? 

“I’m not drunk.” 

“You definitely are.” 

You roll your eyes. You’re in your best friend’s apartment, with her partner and some of your other friends. It’s a Friday night, and you wanted to celebrate the end of the week. However, your best friend doesn’t drink, so she’s mostly been watching you and laughing at all the dumb things you say. 

“Are you ready to go home?” She asks. “I can drive you. I don’t want you wandering around in the dark.” 

“Are you trying to get rid of me?” 

“You know I’m going home for the weekend, I don’t want to get there in the middle of the night.” You can’t argue with that. You know she’s been missing her family recently, and you don’t want to take away from her time with them.

“Okay,” you grab your bag, pulling out your phone. “Let’s go.” She smiles and goes to get her stuff. 

When she’s ready, she leads you out to her car. You sit in the back, since her S.O. always gets to ride shotgun. Your single ass can’t relate. 

It’s a short drive, so you just hang out in the back while the two of them talk. You’re thinking about what to do when you get home. You texted Hanbin earlier, asking if you two could study tomorrow. He hasn’t replied yet, so maybe you’ll bother him. You hate being drunk and alone. When your friend pulls into your driveway, you reach into your bag for your keys. 

“It was lovely seeing you again, y/n.” 

“Yeah, you too,” you reply. You can’t feel them anywhere. You turn on your phone flashlight to get a better look. 

“What’s wrong?” Your friend asks. You shake your head. 

“I can’t find my keys.” 

“You’re joking,” she says.

“I wish I was.” She reaches out her hand so you give her your bag. She pokes around in there for a little while before coming to the same conclusion.

“You’re so dumb.” She’s not wrong. “Call your roommate, she’ll let you in.” 

“She’s at her boyfriend’s tonight...” You’re getting anxious now. You don’t know what to do. 

“Oh my god,” your friend hits the steering wheel. “What do we do with you?” 

“Can’t she stay with your roommates?” Her partner asks. The two of you shake your heads. 

“I don’t trust them to take care of her,” your friend says. “They’re good people, but y/n can be way too flirty when she’s drunk. I don’t want her sleeping with one of them.” That’s a valid point. 

“I don’t have any other friends-” you start to say when it hits you. “HANBIN.” 

“Who?” Your friend asks. 

“You know him!” You unlock your phone so you can call him.

“Is that the guy you’re always studying with?” 

“Yes!” You scroll to Hanbin’s contact icon and click it. “I’ve slept at his place before, he won’t mind.” 

“Is this a good idea?” Your friend asks. “Having you sleep at a boy’s house while drunk?” You don’t answer her because Hanbin picks up right at that moment. 

“y/n,” he says. “What’s up?” 

“Okay, this is going to sound weird,” you reply. Your friend laughs. “I’m a little drunk and I got locked out of my apartment and I need somewhere to stay so could I maybe sleep at yours?” You’re slurring your words a little bit, but you’re hoping he won’t notice. 

“Of course,” he says right away. You hear a door open. “Where are you? I’ll pick you up.” 

“No, it’s okay,” you tell him. “I’m with my friend, she can drop me off.” 

“Can I talk to him?” Your friend says from the front seat.

“Hold on, she wants to talk to you,” you say to Hanbin. “She needs to make sure you aren’t gonna murder me.” You can hear him nervously laughing as you give your friend the phone. 

You look out the window while she asks him a gazillion and one questions. She sounds concerned when she finds out he has 2 other roommates, both guys. You’re good friends with them too, thankfully. You can’t hear Hanbin, but whatever he says must be convincing. He’s the best person you know. But then again you’re drunk, and maybe a little in love with him. 

“And you’ll take her home tomorrow morning?” She asks. You turn your head and try to focus on their conversation.

“He’s not my father,” you say from the backseat. You’re tempted to make a joke about him being your daddy but you hold it in. 

“Make sure she calls me tomorrow as well, so I know she’s alive.” 

“For god’s sake,” you mutter to yourself. 

You’ve known him since you started university, but your friend has only met him once or twice. You and Hanbin are in the same program and the same year, so you have tons of classes together. In first year, you were thrown together for a group project. While working on that, the two of you quickly became friends. You started studying for all your joint classes together, alternating hanging out at each other’s apartments. Your study sessions usually turn into the two of you watching TV or ordering take out and just talking for hours on end. Sometimes Hanbin will share lyrics or songs with you and ask for your opinion. There have been a few times where you’ve been so deep in discussion, you don’t even realize it’s midnight. On those days, you crash at his place.

Your roommate is convinced the two of you are dating, but you constantly reassure her you’re not. Every time he comes over, you lock yourselves in your room, so she probably assumes you’re making out. You wish you were, but you’re happy being his best friend too. 

“If y/n gets hurt, I’m going to murder you, I hope you know that.” There goes any chance you had with him anyway. “Okay, I’ll give the phone back to her.” 

You grab it right away. “I’m sorry, I know she can be scary.” You say. Hanbin just laughs. 

“She cares about you, it’s a good thing.” 

“So I’ll see you in like 5 minutes then?” You ask. 

“Yeah, are you hungry? Yunhyeong made some food earlier, I think there’s some left.” You smile at that, he’s so sweet. Total boyfriend material. 

“That sounds lovely.” You glance at your friend, who’s turning the engine on again. “I’ll be there soon.” 

“Okay, bye.” 

“Love you,” you reply. “Bye.” 

After you hang up, your friend just stares at you in the rearview mirror. “Did you just say love you?” 

“Yes,” you say awkwardly. “That’s what friends do.” 

“You never tell me you love me.” She puts the car into reverse and pulls out of your driveway. 

“I love you.” 

“It doesn’t have the same effect now,” she says. “Are you sure he’s not your boyfriend?” 

“He’s not.” 

“Friends with benefits?” Her partner asks. 

“No!” 

“He’s cute though,” your friend points out. “Definitely your type.” 

“Yeah, I know.” You stare out the window again. 

“Wait, do you have a crush on him?” She glances at you in the rearview again. 

“I think it’s a little more than a crush,” you say, avoiding eye contact. “I might be in love with him, it’s fine though.” 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“He’s not interested.” 

“How do you know that?” She says right away. “He’s going to take care of you right now, while you’re drunk, what boy would do that if he didn’t have feelings for you?” 

“A nice one?” 

“Shut up,” she replies, turning right onto his street. “You’re drunk, you’re flirty, go get your man.” 

“Should we give her some condoms or something?” You and your friend both laugh at that. 

“No sex,” she says. “Not while you’re drunk.” 

“Hanbin would never,” you reassure her. “He always asks before touching me.” 

“He touches you?” She pulls onto his driveway. 

“In a platonic way!” You’re blushing now. You’ve been crushing on him for ages, but talking about it out loud makes it so much more real. You’re almost scared to see Hanbin now. You’ll wind up saying something dumb and ruining your friendship. 

“We’re here, so you can go touch him all you want.” 

“Stop it!” You take your seatbelt off and open the door. “I hate you.” 

“Do you want us to take you inside?” 

“I’m sure I can make it to the front door,” you say. “I’m not that drunk.” 

“If you say so,” your friend replies. “I’m gonna stay here and watch you go in.” Your roll your eyes, but you’re grateful for her. “Text me when you wake up tomorrow. I told Hanbin too, so you better not forget.” 

“I won’t.” You grab your bag. “Thanks.” She smiles. 

“You’re welcome,” you close the door, but she rolls down her window. “I love you.” 

“Oh my god,” you groan and run towards the house. You’re dying to get away from her so she’ll stop clowning you. 

When you get to the front door, it opens right away. Yunhyeong is there, smiling. He must’ve been expecting you.

“Hey,” he says. He notices your friend’s car in the driveway and waves. She waves back before reversing out and leaving. 

“Thank god,” you mutter, kicking your shoes off. You almost lose your balance, but he grabs your arm to steady you. 

“Hanbin said you’re staying over tonight.” 

“Yeah, and I’m drunk,” you tell him. He’s about to say something else but Hanbin comes walking down the hallway. You immediately run over and wrap your arms around his neck. 

He’s caught off guard, but he hugs you back. “Hi.” His arms are tight around you. 

“I missed you,” you say, before burying your face in his neck. “So much.” 

“Are you okay?” He asks, smiling. You nod and look up at him. You’re glad he’s amused. 

“You smell really good.” 

“You smell like vodka.” That makes you laugh. “You said you’re hungry, right?” You nod.

He untangles himself from you and walks towards the kitchen. You grab his hand without second thought. Since the two of you are usually pretty affectionate, he doesn’t think anything of it. You’re extremely grateful for that right now. You don’t want to act suspicious. 

Yunhyeong joins you at the kitchen table while you have some left over french fries from their dinner. Hanbin makes sure you drink some water too, even though you tell him you’re not thirsty. You ask where Chanwoo is. When they say he’s locked in his room gaming, you’re not surprised. You make a mental note to say hi to him in the morning. 

They ask about your night, and you explain how you forgot your keys and have nowhere else to stay. When they ask how much you had to drink, you genuinely can’t remember. 

“You better go to sleep soon,” Hanbin says. “I don’t want you to be hungover tomorrow.” 

“I don’t get hungover,” you tell him, yawning. “I’m not old.” He rolls his eyes at that. 

“You can sleep in Hanbin’s room,” Yunhyeong says. “He can sleep on my floor.” 

“Why can’t he sleep with me?” You two have never slept in the same bed before, but you don’t see why it would be a problem. Falling asleep in his arms would be amazing, especially since he smells so damn good. And waking up next to him in the morning? That thought alone makes you blush. 

“y/n,” Hanbin says, smiling. “What did you just say?” 

“I said you should sleep with me.” The two of them burst out laughing as you suddenly realize why. “Wait no, that’s not what I meant.” 

“Are you sure?” Hanbin asks, making eye contact with you. You know he’s joking but it makes you flustered. 

“Yes,” you mutter under your breath. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about Hanbin like that. You know he’s got some tattoos hiding under there somewhere. You’ve definitely thought about them before, particularly while imagining yourself underneath him. 

“Are you finished?” Yunhyeong breaks your thoughts, pointing to your plate. You nod and he picks it up, heading to the sink. 

“Thank you,” you call out after him. You might be drunk, but you’re never impolite. 

Hanbin stands up and holds out his hand. “Let’s get you into bed.” 

“I bet you’d like to,” you say, trying to give him a seductive look. That’s probably not even grammatically correct, but he laughs and pulls you towards his room. 

“You’re ridiculous.” You sit down on his bed as he cleans up his nightstand for you. You glance at your phone quickly, no messages. 

“Go take off your makeup,” Hanbin says to you, “you don’t want to look like a raccoon in the morning.” 

“Raccoons are cute though,” you point out. 

“That’s true.” He heads over to his closet. “But you’ll complain if I don’t make you do it now.” 

“Fine,” you groan, getting up and heading to his en-suite. 

You grab the micellar water and cotton pads from under the sink and use them to wipe your eye makeup off. The last time you slept over, he gave you your own toothbrush, so you grab that off the bathroom counter and brush your teeth. When you’re done, you walk back into the room, pulling the scrunchie out of your hair. 

“Do you want a sweater or a t-shirt?” Hanbin asks, holding out both to you. 

“T-shirt, I guess,” you reply, pulling off your own and throwing it on the floor without second thought. 

“Whoa.” He rushes to cover his eyes, which makes you smile. 

“You’re allowed to look,” you tell him, grabbing the shirt. “I was hoping you would see me shirtless in a totally different context, but this works too.” 

“What?” He’s smirking. 

“Nothing,” you say. “I probably won’t even remember this in the morning.” Hanbin doesn’t say anything to that. 

“Are you still half naked?” He asks a minute or two later, with his eyes still closed. The t-shirt he gave you is a free one from one of your university’s events. He got the biggest size, which you’re grateful for right now. You decide to take your jeans off so you’ll be more comfortable while you sleep. 

“Hold on.” You take them off and attempt to fold them, but in your drunken state, it’s kind of difficult. “Okay,” you say, placing them on his desk. 

When he opens his eyes, he glances you up and down. You act like you don’t notice, but you’re pretty sure his gaze lingers on your legs for a moment. You haven’t shaved in a couple days, maybe he’s frightened. He clears his throat, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“I’m gonna get you a glass of water,” he says awkwardly, turning around and walking out of the room. You don’t know what to make of that. 

While he’s gone, you crawl into bed and grab Hanbin’s phone charger. He’ll have to steal someone else’s if he needs it. He comes back, placing the water and a bottle of Advil on his nightstand for you. 

“Do you need anything else?” He asks. You shake your head. “I’m gonna put the garbage bin closer just in case you do feel sick.” He grabs it from under his desk and puts it next to you. 

“Thank you,” you say. “Seriously.” 

“That’s what friends do.” He smiles at you and you groan. 

“I don’t wanna be your friend,” you tell him, yawning. You knew you were tired, but you feel like you’re going to fall asleep any second, now that you’re lying down and comfortable. 

“What do you want to be then?” He asks, heading over to his dresser. 

“Your girlfriend.” He freezes for a second. “I’m sure you’ve thought about it too.” 

“Maybe,” is all he says in return. He grabs the rest of his stuff as your eyes slowly close. “I’ll see you in the morning y/n, sleep tight.” 

“Goodnight,” you mumble, rolling over. 

You fall asleep soon after that, dreaming of god knows what. But you wake up when you hear a shuffling noise. You sit up and open your eyes. It seems like there’s a figure wandering around in the dark. 

“Hanbin,” you say. “What the fuck are you doing?” 

“Sorry, I thought you were asleep.” You turn his nightstand lamp on and both of you flinch at the sudden brightness. “Are you okay?” 

You nod. “Come here,” you tell him. 

“Are you sick?” He’s holding his toothbrush and a notebook. He was probably coming to grab some stuff before heading to Yunhyeong’s room. 

“No,” you reply, you’re still half asleep and you’re sure he can tell. “I just want you to come sit for a second.” He puts his things down, so you scoot over a little bit so there’s room for him. 

“Do you need something?” You shake your head. “Why are you up then?” 

“You woke me up, dumbass.” He blushes at that. 

“I’m sorry.” You smile and take his hand. 

“It’s okay.” He interlocks his fingers with yours. “Stay with me till I fall asleep again and I’ll accept your apology.” 

“Fine.” He glances at the time on your phone. “That might take forever though.” 

“Nope,” you tell him. “I have a trick.” 

“A trick?” 

“Yeah,” you say. “When I’m at home and I can’t sleep, there’s one thing I always think of and then I fall asleep no problem.” 

“What is it?” 

“You.” 

“What?” He looks confused and it’s the cutest thing you’ve ever seen. 

“Remember when I said you should sleep with me?” 

“How could I forget?” You laugh, and he does too. 

“You should.” His eyes go wide. “Not like that, but also like that, I guess...” You lose your train of thought for a second because you’re thinking about him shirtless. 

“y/n?” You glance at him. 

“Sorry,” you smile. “When I can’t sleep, I think of you, and falling asleep with your arms around me, and it helps.” 

“That’s the most adorable thing I’ve ever heard.” He takes your other hand in his. 

“But,” you say. “When that doesn’t work, I just think about kissing you.” 

“You do?” He asks. He sounds genuinely curious. Surely he’s thought about kissing you too. Otherwise you’re just making a fool of yourself right now. Although it doesn’t really matter, since you won’t remember any of it tomorrow morning. 

“I think about kissing you a lot,” you admit. 

“Oh really?” You brain suddenly realizes there’s not that much space between the two of you, and it would be really easy to just do it now but you hold back. 

“You should kiss me,” you tell him. “To help me sleep, I mean.” 

“Drunk you is so entertaining.” He reaches up to brush some hair out of your face, which makes your heart beat a little faster. 

“You’re not saying no,” you point out. He moves his hand down, pulling you in by the neck. 

“I’m not.” 

You blink. He’s looking at you like he does actually want to kiss you, but you might just be imagining it because you’re drunk. But you also really want to kiss him and now seems like a really good opportunity if you would just- 

Your thoughts get cut off because suddenly Hanbin’s lips are on yours. He gives you a quick kiss, but you shake your head, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

“What?” 

“Kiss me properly.” 

“You’re ridiculous y/n,” he laughs. 

You quickly shut him up by placing your lips on his again. He kisses you deeper this time, taking your comment to heart. You get lost in the kiss, leaning back onto the bed and pulling him down with you. You expect him to stop before this gets out of hand, but he doesn’t. There’s a small part of you that’s scared of what this means for your friendship, but god, it feels so good to finally kiss him that you don’t even care. 

When he pulls away, it takes you a few seconds to open your eyes. Looking up at him feels so surreal. You think you might be dreaming. You run your fingers through his hair and it’s as soft as you remember. Maybe not. 

“Better now?” Hanbin asks quietly, never taking his eyes off your lips. 

“Yeah,” you whisper. He glances into your eyes for a second, before leaning down for another kiss. This one’s softer, more gentle. 

“Good,” he says, sitting up. You miss him as soon as he moves away. “Go to sleep.” 

“I’ll try, but no promises.” He smirks at that.

“Sorry.” You shake your head. 

“Don’t be.” 

He smiles and kisses your cheek. “Goodnight y/n.” 

“Goodnight,” you say back, closing your eyes and drifting off to sleep again. 

The next morning when you wake up, you feel much better. You must’ve slept pretty well. When you grab your phone off the nightstand you almost knock over the glass of water Hanbin left there for you. 

Right, Hanbin. 

The last thing you remember is him leaving the garbage bin by your bed and saying goodnight. You vaguely remember making some suggestive jokes, but nothing too terrible. You didn’t totally ruin your friendship, as far as you know. 

When you check your phone, you see a text from your best friend. Instead of replying, you call her. She’s glad you’re still alive. She asks about Hanbin and whether anything happened overnight. She sounds kind of disappointed when you tell her you just ate and went to sleep. She’s got plans for the day so you can’t talk for long, but she promises to text you later. 

You stay in bed for a little while longer, scrolling through your socials. Hanbin knocks on the door about half an hour later. He asks how you’re feeling and tells you to take whatever you want from his closet. You decide to take a shower so he grabs you a towel. He tells you to come join them when you’re done.

Once you’re finished, you quickly pack up your things. Then, you grab your phone and head towards the kitchen. You’re walking down the hall, when you hear Chanwoo say your name. 

“I’m so sad I didn’t get to see drunk y/n, she sounds like a lot of fun.” 

“She’s very entertaining.” That’s Hanbin’s voice. 

“She was flirting with you too,” Yunhyeong says. You creep a little bit closer, staying close to the wall, so they don’t notice you eavesdropping. 

“Maybe.” Hanbin pauses for a second. “She said something in my room later on.” 

“She was in your room?” Chanwoo asks. 

“What did she say?” Yunhyeong asks, ignoring him. 

“After r I got her some water and Advil, she said thanks and I was like ‘that’s what friends do,’” you hear someone groan at that. Probably Chanwoo. “She said she doesn’t want to be my friend.” 

Your heart starts to beat a little bit faster. You’re praying you didn’t say anything too dumb. And if you did, you hope Hanbin will just write it off as you being drunk. 

“She said she wants to be my girlfriend.” You cringe. It’s not terrible, but you’re still embarrassed. 

“I knew it,” Yunhyeong says. “You’re soulmates.” 

“Shut up,” Hanbin replies. “She was drunk, she probably didn’t even mean it.” 

“I think she did.” 

“We’ve seen the way y/n looks at you.” You cringe at that too. Have you really been that obvious? 

“That’s not it though,” Hanbin says. You wish he would just shut up. You don’t want to know what other dumb shit you said. “I kissed her.” 

“You what?” Yunhyeong says exactly what you’re thinking. You and Hanbin finally kissed and you don’t even remember it? You’re never drinking again. 

“It wasn’t planned,” Hanbin sounds worried now. “I didn’t mean to, she was just talking about how much she likes me and I couldn’t help myself, and now I’ve ruined our friendship.” 

“What did she say about liking you?” 

“She said that when she can’t sleep, she thinks about falling asleep in my arms, and if that doesn’t work, she thinks about kissing me.” You roll your eyes. All of that is true, but you don’t know why your drunk self felt the need to share it with him. 

“She’s practically in love with you,” Chanwoo says. He’s not wrong. You are in love with Hanbin, maybe he’ll finally realize now.

“What are you going to do?” Yunhyeong asks. 

“I don’t know.” Hanbin sighs. “She doesn’t even remember it happened, when I said hi to her this morning, she acted like everything was normal.” You don’t know if you’re grateful for that. Maybe if you did remember, you could actually address it and somehow get him to date you already. 

“Maybe that’s what she wants,” Chanwoo says.

“But is it what you want?” Yunhyeong asks.

There’s a moment of silence before Hanbin responds. 

“No.” 

“I knew it.” Chanwoo sounds so smug. 

“What do I do?” 

“How do you feel about y/n?” Yunhyeong asks. This is what you’ve been waiting for. You take a small step closer to the kitchen. 

“What kind of question is that?” Hanbin responds. “When she said she wanted to fall asleep with me, I really wanted to get into bed next to her.” That makes you blush. 

“Simp.”

“She’s adorable to begin with, but she’s like a thousand times cuter when she’s half asleep,” he says. You smile to yourself.

“Tell us more,” Yunhyeong says. 

“Does he have to?” Chanwoo groans. 

“I mean, y/n’s my best friend. She makes me laugh, she makes studying for the worst courses bearable somehow, I love spending time with her, I love it when she falls asleep with her head on my shoulder and I hate it when she cries,” he says. You’re shocked at how quickly he answers. “But I also love it when I can make her stop crying. I don’t know, I just really like her and I have no idea what to do about it.”

“You’re in love with her, we been knew.” Chanwoo sounds 100% sure. He’s not wrong, that is what it sounds like. “And we all know your lyrics are about her too.” 

“What?” 

“It does sound like you love her,” Yunhyeong says. 

“Shit,” Hanbin mutters under his breath. Your heart’s racing, waiting to hear what he says next. “Yeah, I think I do.” 

You lose your focus, ignoring whatever Yunhyeong and Chanwoo say next because you can’t believe it. Your best friend, the boy you love with all your heart, loves you too. You don’t know what to do next, but that’s a pretty good start.

“I should go see if she’s done,” you hear someone say, which snaps you back to reality. 

You rush back to Hanbin’s room and sit down at his desk, trying to act casual. There’s a bunch of notebooks piled against the wall, so you grab one, pretending to read it. Until something catches your eye. 

If feelings could be controlled, I would’ve thrown mine away a long time ago. I’m talking bout you and me, when I try to take a step forward, you take his hand and become distant. 

You’ve seen some of Hanbin’s lyrics before, but only the ones he’s shared with you. It feels like an invasion of his privacy, but you can’t help but wonder if these are about you, especially after what Chanwoo said in the kitchen. 

I’ve got feelings for you and you’re embarrassing me. Why are you so pretty if you’re not mine? 

Your eyes jump to the top of the page, looking for a date. He wrote this a year and a half ago. You try to go back in your memory to figure out what was happening around that time, when it hits you. 

You dated this guy in your English class that October. You remember he came up to you after one of your lectures and asked if you and Hanbin were dating, since you always seemed to be together. You laughed and rolled your eyes. He said he was glad he had the chance to finally talk to you, since that was one of the few classes you had without Hanbin. He asked if he could take you out for dinner that weekend and you said yes. When you told Hanbin, he didn’t seem disappointed, but he must have been if he wrote this. Your ex wound up leaving you after three months. He didn’t explicitly say it, but you suspect he was jealous because you spent more time with Hanbin than him. It was true, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. 

You never mentioned anything about your breakup to Hanbin, but he knows you too well. You wound up telling him about it when you were up late one night talking. He held you while you cried, but he never said a bad word about your ex. Later on, you realized you were crying more about how you’d never have Hanbin than the actual breakup. 

While thinking about that, you realize Hanbin hasn’t dated anyone in the time you’ve been friends. You know he has tons of other friends, and you know some of them also have crushes on him, but he never seemed interested. Now you know why. 

Yunhyeong appears in the doorway at that exact moment, smiling at you. You put the notebook down, trying to act natural. 

“Hey,” he says. “Have a nice shower?” 

“Yeah, it was great,” you reply, awkwardly. 

“You called your roommate, right?” You nod. “Are you going to head home soon?” 

“You trying to get rid of me?” You ask, jokingly. Yunhyeong immediately shakes his head. 

“Hanbin said you have some midterms and papers due this week that you seemed pretty stressed about. We just assumed you’d want to head home and work on those.” 

“That’s kind of both of you,” you say. “Perhaps you have a point.” 

“Do you want me to walk you home?” 

“Where’s Hanbin?” You’re scared to see him, but you’re also excited. You’re curious as to how he’s going to act around you now. You didn’t really have a proper conversation earlier. 

“I’m right here,” he suddenly appears next to Yunhyeong in the doorframe. You can’t stop yourself from smiling when you see him. He smiles back, which makes you a little flustered. “Have a nice shower?” 

You roll your eyes. “I smell like you now.” Hanbin raises his eyebrows at that, and Yunhyeong smirks. 

“I’m gonna go find Chanwoo,” he says. “I’ll leave you two alone.” 

“Are you gonna stay for a little while?” Hanbin asks. You can’t tell if he wants you to, so you shake your head. 

“I should probably work on my philosophy paper.”

“I should do that too.” You want to stay, and work on it together, but he doesn’t suggest it. You’re too scared to. 

“Text me when you’re done,” you say. “You can send it to me and I’ll edit it for you.” He smiles at that. 

“Thank you in advance.” You smile back. “I can drive you home as a token of my gratitude.” 

“Can we walk?” It’s only 5 minutes, surely the two of you can act normal for that long. 

“Sure,” he replies. “Have you got all your stuff?” You nod, grabbing your bag from the bed. Yunhyeong offered you one of his tote bags to put last night’s clothes in, so you pick that up as well. 

You follow Hanbin into the kitchen, where Yunhyeong and Chanwoo are still eating their breakfast. You say bye to both of them, and promise to see them again soon. Chanwoo laughs at that. Normally you wouldn’t think anything of it, but now it makes you feel slightly anxious. You ignore that feeling and go to put on your shoes. 

Once you’re outside, you feel so much better. Hanbin must notice, cause he’s looking at you with a weird expression on his face. 

“What?” 

“Nothing,” he says, walking down his driveway to the sidewalk. “They say fresh air is good for hangovers.” 

The second you get over to him, you give him a smack. “I’m not hungover.” 

“Sure you aren’t.” He gestures to the tote bag in your hand. “I can take that.” 

“Thanks,” you hand it to him. “And thanks for putting up with drunk me.” 

“It’s fine,” is all he says. 

“Sorry if I said anything dumb.” 

“You’re always saying dumb things, y/n, last night was no different.” You roll your eyes at that. 

“I didn’t do anything stupid, did I?” You ask quietly. It’s the perfect opportunity to bring up the kiss. 

“Of course not,” he says quickly, smiling at you. “You were actually kind of boring.” 

“Shut up,” you mutter. He bumps his shoulder against yours as you turn off his street. While you walk, you send your roommate a text to let her know you’re on your way home. She says she’ll leave the door unlocked. 

You and Hanbin talk about your midterms for the rest of the way. You’re slightly disappointed he doesn’t mention anything about last night, but you understand if he doesn’t want to ruin your friendship. You don’t want to bring it up because you don’t want to admit you were eavesdropping. 

When you get to your front door, he makes sure you get in safely before saying bye. 

“Thanks again,” you say, as the two of you stand in your doorway awkwardly. 

“That’s what friends do.” You groan at that, which makes Hanbin blush. You must’ve had the same reaction last night when you said you wanted to be his girlfriend. You wish you could remember.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, right?” He nods. 

“Of course.” 

You give him a quick hug and say thanks again before he leaves. Once you close the front door, your roommate pops out from her room. 

“So?” She asks, running over to you. 

“What?” You put your things down in the hallway and follow her into the living room. 

“Something’s up,” she glances you up and down as you sit down in the armchair. “You spent the night at his place, you’re wearing his clothes, your hair is wet - that only means one thing.” 

“It’s not what you think,” you tell her, pulling Hanbin’s sweater tighter around you. It smells so freaking good, you’re never giving it back. Even though you have like 5 other hoodies from him. 

“What is it then?” She raises an eyebrow. 

“How much time do you have?”

“More than enough,” she smiles. “Let me put the kettle on.” 

============ 

Things with Hanbin stay the same during the week. You edit each other’s essays and study for your midterms over FaceTime. He invites you over on Friday night to celebrate being halfway done with the semester. Apparently Chanwoo lost some bet between the three of them and he’s buying dinner. How could you say no? 

The day of, you’re about to leave when your roommate catches you in the kitchen. 

“Please tell me you’re not wearing that.” You glance down. You’re wearing one of Hanbin’s t-shirts and a pair of sweats. 

“What’s wrong with this?” You ask. “We’re not going clubbing.” 

“Yeah, but you want him to sleep with you, don’t you?” That makes you blush. “You should at least wear some makeup.” 

She grabs your hand and pulls you into your room. While she goes through your closet, you shoot Hanbin a quick text saying you’re running late. This better be worth it. 

In the end, your roommate lets you keep his shirt on. She says it makes you look more “fuckable,” whatever that means. You wind up changing into jeans and throwing a plaid shirt on top (which is also Hanbin’s, but you don’t tell her that). She brushes some brown eyeshadow on for you and picks out a nice shade of lipstick, which also happens to be smudge proof (“since you’ll be making out”). After you swipe it on, she finally lets you put your shoes on to leave. You’re unlocking the front door when she stops you again. 

“What now?” She drops a couple of condoms into your hand. “Oh my god.” 

“You and Hanbin would have adorable babies, but I don’t think now is the right time for either of you-”

“Why does everyone think I need condoms?” You say, mostly to yourself. You stuff them into your bag anyway.

“I just want you to be prepared.” 

“I appreciate that.” She smiles and opens the door for you. 

“You have your keys, right?” You roll your eyes but hold them up. “Good, now go get laid!” 

You feel bad about running late, so you speedwalk to Hanbin’s. You get there in less than 3 minutes, which you’re quite proud of. When he opens the door, he smiles at you. 

“Is that my shirt?” You blush. 

“Yes.” You push past him so you don’t have to look at him any longer. It wasn’t so bad in class, because the two of you had something else to focus on. But now that you’re back in his house, you’re feeling anxious again. He still thinks you don’t know about the kiss. 

“y/n!” Chanwoo appears in the hallway. “Pizza got here like 10 minutes ago, come have it while it’s hot.” 

You follow him into the kitchen, where he grabs you a plate. While he does that, you open the fridge to grab a drink. The second you pick up a can, Hanbin magically shows up and takes it from you. 

“I don’t think so.” 

“Don’t tell me what to do.” You go to take it back, but he holds it above his head so you can’t reach.

“Kim Hanbin,” you say, trying to use your serious voice. “Give me back my drink or else I’ll never proofread your essays again.” 

“I can easily find someone else to do that.” He keeps the can raised. You rolls your eyes but reach for it anyway. That makes Hanbin laugh as he tries to keep it away from you. 

“Can you two stop flirting?” You almost forgot Chanwoo was there. Whoops. You glance at Hanbin and he seems as caught off guard as you, which makes you feel better. You snatch the drink out of his hand while he’s distracted.

The three of you sit down and eat, talking about your classes and your plans for the weekend. Yunhyeong shows up about 15 minutes later. He walks through the door holding way too many grocery bags, so you immediately run over to help. 

“Thanks, y/n,” he says, handing you some of them. “I’m glad someone cares about me.” 

“Of course I do,” you tell him. Hanbin comes over to help you put them away while Yunhyeong has some pizza. 

When you’re done, you jump onto the counter. Hanbin gets a glass of water and sits next to you. 

“Have this.” He holds it out.

“Excuse me?” 

“It’s important to stay hydrated while you’re drinking.” 

“Shut up,” you tell him. “I’ll be fine.” 

“Fine as you won’t remember anything?” You freeze. It’s about time he said something, you just didn’t expect it to be like this. 

“Is that really such a bad thing?” You tease, but he doesn’t smile.

“Yeah y/n,” he says, running a hand through his hair. 

“Fine,” you take the water from him and have a sip. “I don’t want to forget anything that happens today.” 

“Good,” he says. 

“You better make it memorable then.” 

“Oh, I will.” You don’t know what to make of that. 

“What did I tell you about flirting?” Chanwoo says suddenly, getting your attention. You roll your eyes, but Yunhyeong changes the subject. 

“Who was that girl I dated in first year? I can’t remember her name.”

“Alex?” He shakes his head. “I have no idea then, sorry.” 

Yunhyeong runs through some other names, none of which you recognize. To be fair, you only became friends with Yunhyeong and Chanwoo last year. Sure, you spent time in their apartment, but they mostly left you and Hanbin alone to do whatever. 

“Wait!” You say suddenly, remembering a story Hanbin told you a while back. Everyone stops and looks at you. “Is she the one who said you were a bad kisser?” 

“Yeah,” Yunhyeong replies. “That’s the worst insult I’ve ever gotten.” 

“Can’t relate.” Chanwoo looks smug. 

“Have you even kissed anyone?” You ask him. “You’re like 12.” That makes Hanbin laugh. 

“Shut up,” He says. “I’m only 2 years younger than you.” 

“Hanbin’s probably the best kisser out of all of us then,” Yunhyeong points out. You bump your shoulder against Hanbin’s and he smiles. 

“Says who?” Chanwoo asks. “We should run a survey.” You roll your eyes. 

“What are you going to do?” You reply. “Make out with every girl on campus and ask who they liked best?” 

“Well you and Hanbin have already kissed so-” Yunhyeong doesn’t finish his sentence. All of you are staring at him. 

“I’m sorry, what?” You ask. You could just tell them you already know, but you decide not to. You want to see how this plays out. 

“When you were drunk,” Hanbin jumps in, turning to face you. “It was just a dumb kiss, it didn’t mean anything.” 

“It didn’t?” You ask. 

“Do you even remember it?” 

“No,” you shake your head, “but that doesn’t mean I don’t have feelings for you.” You hear Yunhyeong gasp. Hanbin just looks surprised.

“Did I say anything?” You ask him.

“You said-”

“Shut up Chanwoo,” Hanbin looks at you. “You said you wanted to be my girlfriend.” You could take a second and weigh your options, but you also know if you don’t say something now you probably never will. 

“Well, I do.” Your voice shakes a little, but you’re confident in your answer.

“You do?” You might be imagining things, but Hanbin looks happy. 

“Yeah.” He thinks for a second, then jumps off the counter. 

“Come on.” He holds out his hand, so you take it. Neither of you say anything to Yunhyeong and Chanwoo as you walk right past them, down the hall to Hanbin’s room. 

He follows you in and closes door behind you. Now that you’re alone, you don’t know what to do. You glance at Hanbin and he looks just as nervous as you. He’s leaning against the door. You wish he would come hold your hand or sit next to you or anything. 

“y/n,” he starts to say, but you cut him off. 

“I’m scared.” 

“What?” He looks so concerned. You love him for it. “What’s wrong?” 

“Come here,” you say without thinking. Hanbin sits next to you and takes your hand as you lean against him. It feels so natural. 

“What is it?” He asks quietly, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand. 

“What if we fuck this up?” 

“We won’t,” he says right away. 

“Listen,” you reply. “You’re my best friend, and I absolutely adore you, but if we do this, and we fall in love and date and whatever and it doesn’t work out, where does that leave us?” 

Hanbin turns to look at you. “Haven’t we already fallen in love?” 

You answer him by leaning in and giving him a small kiss. You’re surprised at your boldness, but it feels right. When you pull away, the two of you smile at each other. You really do love him. 

“Is that what our first kiss was like?” You ask, breaking the silence. “I’m so sad I don’t remember it.” 

“It wasn’t like that, no,” he tells you. 

“Oh god,” you groan. “Was it like messy and weird? I wasn’t that drunk, was I?” 

“No,” he shakes his head. “It was actually really nice.” 

“Can we do a reenactment?” Hanbin blushes. “Oh my god, was it like something out of a R-rated movie?” 

He shakes his head again. “Maybe like 14A?” You gasp. 

“You’ll have to show me.” 

“Not today,” he says, “I have things to do.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You frown.

“Just, uh,” he looks down. “If I kiss you like that again, I’m pretty sure I know what’ll happen next.” 

That makes you blush. “Okay cool,” you say awkwardly. “We’ll save that for another time.” 

“Good plan,” he smiles at you. “Should we go back out there?” He gestures to the door. 

“What do we say?” 

“What do you mean?” He asks.

“We’ve been in here, alone, for how long? That’s not what friends do. They’re going to have questions.” 

“We’re not friends,” Hanbin says. 

“No?” You ask, trying to ignore the fact that your heart rate’s gone up. “What are we then?” 

Before he can answer, you hear Chanwoo’s voice outside. “If you two are fucking in there, let us know so we can leave.” 

“We’re not!” You and Hanbin yell back in unison. 

“Okay good,” Chanwoo responds. You both wait until you hear him walk away. 

“Let’s go, so they stop speculating about what we’re doing in here.” You get up. Hanbin doesn’t. “What?” 

“I love you.” 

“I know.” 

“Oh my god,” he groans. “Did you really have to quote Star Wars right now?” You smile, as he stands up. 

“Sorry,” you tell him. 

Hanbin kisses your forehead, taking your hand. You give him what’s mean to be a quick kiss on the lips, but he wraps his arms around you, holding you close. 

“I love you too,” you whisper once he pulls away. 

“Thank god for that.” You roll your eyes. “Come on.” 

You’re not ready for the constant teasing you’re going to get from Yunhyeong and Chanwoo, but you don’t mind. Hanbin’s yours now, so at least you’ll suffer together. That’s what friends do, right? 

[bumblesimagines]

The Oldest Pogue

Part 3

Request; Yes or No

(Y/N) cut vegetables, mind drifting back to the events that had occured. They almost got caught by his dad, got in a boat chase, and found evidence of John B's dad possibly being alive. Just a few days ago, everything was normal. They fished, partied, spent each day having fun. Things were start to take a more serious turn. Suddenly, pain shot (Y/N)'s finger.

"Shit!" (Y/N) hissed, putting his finger in his mouth and tasting blood. He sighed, putting the knife down and rinsing his finger as the door opened.

"Hey, bud." Shoupe greeted, watching him. (Y/N) licked his lips.

"Hey, dad. How was work? Any luck finding that wreck?" (Y/N) asked, turning the water off and searching for a bandaid.

"Goddamn it." (Y/N) muttered. Shoupe's brows raised.

"You okay?" He asked. (Y/N) nodded, opening a cabinet and finding the box of bandaids.

"Cut yourself? Let me see." Shoupe approached him but (Y/N) shrunk away from him.

"Absolutely not. You'll touch it and it'll hurt more." (Y/N) said, applying the bandage on. Shoupe rolled his eyes, calling him 'dramatic' under his breath.

"To answer your question, no. We didn't get any luck. Who knows how far the current took that body from the boat? The waves from that day were strong." Shoupe said. (Y/N) hummed.

"Have you searched the areas around the beaches? Maybe he got far." (Y/N) went back to chopping vegetables. Shoupe sighed.

"And anyway.. Why is everyone searching so much? He went out during a hurricane and drowned." (Y/N) shrugged. "Did his autopsy reveal something?"

"Nope. No drugs, no signs of assault, no signs of intoxication. He went out there clean and with a clear mind. We want to know why. Finding the wreck will be the only way in knowing." Shoupe told him. (Y/N) hummed.

"I guess that make sense." (Y/N) mumbled. Shoupe nodded.

"So.. Have you spoken with Rafe?" Shoupe asked.

"Dad." (Y/N) looked at him. "No, no, I haven't and don't blame on it."

"He's a douche."

"Damn, a douche, huh?" Shoupe chuckled.

"Yeah, he ghosts me when he goes off to college and then expects me to sucker up to him when he gets back? JJ warned me-"

"JJ, huh?"

"Not every guy I talk about is my boyfriend, dad. JJ is my friend. Plain and simple." (Y/N) sighed, finishing the soup.

"Now.. Can we change the subject? How's Peterkin and everyone else?"

"DCS! I know you're in there!" JJ shouted, pounding on John B's door. (Y/N) rolled his eyes, chuckling. JJ went to the window, jumping and scaring John B. JJ laughed loudly.

"Gotcha, slick." He chuckled. (Y/N) shook his head, opening the door.

"Have any breakfast yet?" (Y/N) asked. John B nodded, sighing and putting on his hat. The boys left, getting in the van.

"Why don't you get a car, (N/N)? You have the money for it." JJ said. (Y/N) shrugged.

"Want me to get one for you?"

"You can't steal a car, JJ." (Y/N) said. JJ raised his brows, grinning. (Y/N) rolled his eyes.

"Okay, you can but you shouldn't. Dad already thinks we're dating and you stealing a car will-"

"Woah, Woah.." JJ flushed, blinking as he stared at him. "You're dad thinks we're dating?" JJ asked.

"Yeah." (Y/N) nodded. John B held back a snort, knowing how JJ felt.

"Speaking of dating, Kiara is into you, JB." (Y/N) said.

"She totally likes you, dude." JJ nodded, looking at him. "She's like, 'Oh, John B.'"

"Is that what she does?" John B cocked a brow as (Y/N) laughed softly.

"She's sketching about you diving, then she kissed you." JJ listed.

"She kissed me on the cheek." John B corrected. "It's not like we were makin' out."

"Low-hanging fruit, bro." JJ shrugged.

"Never hurts to try." (Y/N) said.

"Right? I see it in your eyes too, bro. You're like, 'I kinda like that,' and you start blushing." JJ grinned.

"Wanna talk about blushing and seeing it?" John B asked. JJ puffed out his cheeks, gaze flickering to (Y/N), who was too busy staring out the window to notice. JJ leaned forward, grabbing the compass in an attempt to change the subject.

"Hey, don't-"

"I was just looking at it!" JJ pushed John B's hands away. "I gotta admit, your father's compass in Scooter's boat, that's freaky."

"Yeah. That's why we're going to talk to Ms. Lana, figure this whole thing out." John B said.

"We?" (Y/N) repeated, looking forward at them.

"Yes, we. You're the best at consoling people." John B said. (Y/N) groaned.

"I knew I should've stayed in bed." (Y/N) mumbled. JJ chuckled.

"As if I would've let you." He shot him a wink. (Y/N) rolled his eyes, reaching forward and pinching his cheek. They turned up the radio, listening to it. John B drove onto a dirt road.

"So, what are we gonna say? 'Hey, we know you're crying over your dead husband but we found the boat he was in and tried to take valuable stuff but instead found this compass. Ring any bells?'" (Y/N) cocked a brow. JJ and John B glanced at each other, nodding.

"Yeah, basically." They replied. (Y/N) rolled his eyes, shaking his head.

"Starting to feel glad I came. For Ms. Lana's sake." (Y/N) mumbled, looking back out the window. They arrived, parking. John B and JJ hopped out, JJ opening the door for (Y/N).

"Such a gentleman." (Y/N) teased, chuckling softly. JJ bowed, pretending to tip a hat. (Y/N) rolled his eyes, gently pushing him. JJ chuckled, walking towards the house.

"Know what this house looks like?" JJ asked. "Whoever lives here smokes too much weed."

"A widow lives here, JJ." (Y/N) reminded, smacking the back of his head. The boys started slowing down, hearing glass shattering and crashing.

"Maybe we should come back." JJ said. (Y/N) shot him a look.

"What if she's being attacked?" (Y/N) asked. JJ shrugged.

"None of our business." JJ replied.

"Shut up, JJ." John B glanced at him. They heard more crashing before Lana screamed, telling whoever was inside the house was hurting her. (Y/N) dragged JJ towards the house. They heard the voices and Lana sobbing more clearly. They got down, pressing against the house.

"Still think we should stay?" JJ asked them quietly.

"The compass wasn't in the boat. Where is it, Lana?" A man asked. (Y/N) furrowed his brows, glancing at John B. He wondered what the hell they got themselves into. The walls shook, dried paint getting on them. They got it out of their hair. John B peeked before moving forward.

"We should just go. He's got smuggler written all over him-"

"Shut up." John B huffed. They peeked over the side, watching to men walk out. (Y/N) squinted, noticing it seemed like the boat that had chased them.

"Those are the guys from yesterday." (Y/N) mumbled.

"The ones that shot at us." JJ shook his head. They hid, moving back a bit so they wouldn't be spotted. Once they were out of sight, (Y/N) moved.

"(Y/N)? (Y/N)! Goddamn it." JJ huffed, following him inside. (Y/N) followed the sound of Lana sobbing, glancing at the trashed up house.

"Ms. Lana?" John B called out. (Y/N) turned a corner, finding her on the bathroom floor. He quickly rushed toward her.

"Ms. Lana, are you okay?" (Y/N) asked. She flinched, looking at him.

"It's okay, it's me." (Y/N) soothed. "She's tweaking, man." (Y/N) hushed JJ.

"Do you need a doctor? Want me to get dad or Peterkin?"

"No." Lana gasped out, shaking her head. "They can't get involved."

"Why not?" (Y/N) frowned.

"You shouldn't be here." Lana sniffled.

"That's enough for me, come on." JJ tugged on (Y/N)'s shirt. (Y/N) swatted his hand away.

"Wait, wait." John B crouched down by her, glancing at them. "What do you know about these guys?"

"They were looking for something." Lana whimpered. (Y/N) frowned.

"Do you know anything about this?" John B asked. Lana's face dropped, rapidly shaking her head.

"This is my father's. Scooter had it. Do you know anything about it?" John B asked.

"Don't tell anyone that you have that!" Lana glanced between them. (Y/N) was suddenly pulled up by JJ.

"We need to go, now. What if they come back?" JJ asked, raising his brows. (Y/N) glanced at John B and Lana.

"She's hurt, JJ."

"You can't always be the hero." JJ said quietly. Lana yelled at them to go and get out, JJ dragging John B and (Y/N) away. They got into the van, quickly driving away.

"We should go back-"

"(N/N), for the love of god." JJ climbed back into the backseats, sitting infront of him. He gently grabbed his face.

"She'll be fine. She had cuts and bruises. There was no blood spilled so she didn't get stabbed or shot." JJ said. "Start worrying about yourself before you get hurt."

"But.." (Y/N) breathed out, staring into JJ's sky blue eyes. He swallowed, nodding and shifting his gaze elsewhere. JJ hummed, letting him go and sighing deeply. He caught John B's eye through the rearview mirror. John B cocked a brow. JJ looked away, focusing back on (Y/N) and getting dried paint out of his hair. They got to the house, Kiara and Pope already there and waiting. JJ had them sit down, telling them all about it. (Y/N) stared at the tree, thoughts locked on Lana and the guys. (Y/N) spaced out, their voices being muffled and faint.

"The office." (Y/N) blinked, looking at John B when he spoke. "Huh?"

"My dad. My dad's office." John B said, entering the house. They followed, (Y/N) taking JJ's cigarette and butting it out. They followed him to the office, watching him open it.

"I just.. Kind of left it like it is." John B mumbled.

"Yeah, for when he gets back." Kiara nodded. Pope and JJ looked at each other. (Y/N) pinched JJ, squinting his eyes and shaking his head. JJ pouted, rubbing his arm. John B opened the door, entering.

"I've slept over here like 600 times, and I've never seen this door open." Pope said, entering the office. They looked around at the scattered papers, books, maps. (Y/N) hummed.

"Looks straight out of Pinterest." (Y/N) mumbled. JJ chuckled softly. John B grabbed a crappily made family tree.

"Look, this is the original owner, right here." John B pointed at a picture as they gathered around.

"Robert Q. Routleoge." Kiara read. (Y/N) hummed, looking over the pictures.

"Have I ever told you how weird your last name is?" (Y/N) looked at him. John B scoffed.

"Yours is Shoupe, it's not any better." He replied. (Y/N) chuckled, looking back down at the family tree.

"There's the lucky compass." Kiara pointed at the compass in the picture, smiling.

"Actually, um.. He was shot after he bought it." John B told them, softly.

"Then it was shipped back to Henry. He was killed in a crop-dusting accident when he had the compass." John B moved onto the next guy. (Y/N)'s brows rose.

"After he died, it was sent to Stephen. He had it with him when he died in Vietnam." John B glanced up at them. (Y/N) hummed.

"He died in action?"

"He, uh.. Was killed by a banana truck. In- In country." John B corrected. "He passed the compass down to my dad."

"Seems more cursed than lucky." (Y/N) mumbled. JJ nodded.

"Yeah, reoccuring theme called death." JJ said, shrugging lightly. "You're probably next."

"Am not." John B huffed, sitting down. "My dad used to talk about this secret compartment soldiers used to hide secret notes." John B opened the back, shaking it.

"That wasn't there before.. This is my dad's handwriting." John B said.

"How can you know?" Pope asked.

"Cause he does these weird Rs." John B showed him. "See?"

"Can I see it?" JJ asked. John B handed it to him. JJ sucked his teeth, looking over it.

"Red.. Rout.. No, I think that's an A."

"It says Redfield." Kiara corrected.

"Right."

"So, what's Redfield?" Kiara asked, looking at the boys.

"I can name a list of people and places with that name." (Y/N) said, shrugging and stepping away from them. He looked over some papers, glancing at the pen when he heard the rooster cawing.

"How can you think with that thing constantly crowing at you?" Pope asked.

"Everyone loves the rooster." Kiara muttered, watching him try to figure out the clue and trying to help. (Y/N) looked up, tugging at John B's shirt.

"Guys, we have company." (Y/N) told them. The others went to the window, watching the guys from before get out of the truck. JJ started pacing until John B grabbed him and spun him around.

"Where's the gun?" John B asked. JJ tried to think. (Y/N) swallowed, looking for another potential escape route. JJ left to get the gun but ran back into the room. (Y/N) looked at the windows. He went to one, trying to get it open. JJ and Pope jumped in to help.

"Why isn't it opening?" Kiara asked, panicking. "Painted shut." (Y/N) replied, glancing around for a knife or scissors. They could hear the men shouting, knocking things over. Kiara found something sharp enough. She started cutting the paint as John B and Pope leaned against the door. They stayed as quiet as possible, locking the door. A gunshot rang out, causing them to work faster. They got it open, everyone getting out. (Y/N) closed the window before being dragged away by JJ to the chicken pen. They hid inside, watching as the guys took stuff in crates into their truck.

"Do something, Pope. Shut him up!" JJ hissed, glaring at the rooster.

"What do you want me to do?!"

"Pet it, or talk to it. I don't know!" Kiara whispered back. Before Pope could do anything, the rooster tried attacking him. John B quickly hid. JJ grabbed the rooster by its neck, hitting it against the ground. It went limp, silence taking over. (Y/N) had Kiara bury her face into his chest, letting her sob quietly. JJ frowned, watching her. Once they heard the truck driving away, they got out and into the van. John B started driving. (Y/N) swallowed, staring at the van floor.

"Look, sorry about the rooster." JJ said. (Y/N) looked st him, shaking his head.

"My, uh.. My ex killed a cat once infront of me." (Y/N) mumbled. JJ's eyes widened, brows raising. (Y/N) nodded, confirming his silent question. The topic changed to John B and concocting. (Y/N) sighed softly, watching the trees pass by until they got to the lighthouse. John B parked, getting out with everyone.

"Right, you're gonna post up and look out for bogeys." John B said, looking at JJ.

"What? Why me?"

"Because you're not coming." Pope answered.

"Why?"

"Look, there are dependent and independent variables. You're an independent variable. We don't know what you'll do." Pope explained in his own weird way. An argument broke up but John B shut it down.

"Pope and (Y/N), you stand look out with JJ." John B said. (Y/N) shrugged.

"Alright." He nodded. "We'll meet back up later." John B said before walking away with Kiara. (Y/N) opened the driver door and sat in the seat. JJ approached him, resting his arms on (Y/N)'s knees.

"Why didn't you tell me about him killing a cat?" JJ asked softly. (Y/N) shrugged.

"No reason, Sunset. I just.. It's nothing." (Y/N) shook his head.

"Does your dad know?" JJ asked. (Y/N) shook his head.

"No. I'm not telling him anytime soon." (Y/N) gently ran his hair through JJ's hair. Pope approached them. He was about to greet them before they heard police sirens.

"Fuck." (Y/N) whispered as JJ and Pope got in the back. (Y/N) started the van, quickly driving away. He glanced in the rearview mirror.

"Shit, that's my dad." (Y/N) mumbled, driving faster.

[uchihacore]

newton’s third law

PAIRING: keishin ukai x reader SUMMARY: every action has an equal and opposite reaction WARNINGS: nsfw, pegging, blowjobs

You frown at your reflection in the tiny rearview mirror, rubbing at the edge of a purple mark peeking out of your shirt collar. You hadn’t noticed it last night, but then again, you hadn’t really noticed much outside of Keishin calling you ‘Princess’ as he sat you in his lap and pressed a vibrator between your legs. And really, can you fault yourself for that?

Lucky for you (or rather for lucky for Keishin), you always carry a tube concealer in your purse, just for these types of situations. You pull out the tube and dab some concealer onto your tender neck, gently patting away the cream until it blends with the rest of your skin.

“Sorry 'bout that,” Keishin says from the passenger seat. You can see him from the corner of your eye, and he’s grinning like an idiot, which makes sense because he is an idiot.

“No, you aren’t,” you scoff, rolling your eyes. You need to get him out of your car before he makes you late for work, or worse, a student sees you with him. You pack the tube away, pulling out your lipgloss as Keishin shrugs unapologetically.

“Nope, not even a little bit. But really,” he says, leaning in closer until you can feel his breath on your ear, “can you blame me? Seeing you all marked up, having to hide my hickeys at school, it’s so hot.”

“Nice to know you’re turning into a caveman, Keishin,” you say. And blush because the heater is on and not because of how close he is, the bruise on your neck tingling, “but not everyone gets the luxury of working for our mommy. Some of us have real jobs.”

(Which, admittedly, is a low blow. Especially considering he coaches the boys’ volleyball team for practically nothing, and gives Karasuno students discounts on like half his inventory.) You purse your lips together to rub in the lipgloss, fighting back an apology.

“And yet, here you are,” Keishin notes, seemingly unruffled. “Hiding my artful love-bites under a layer of makeup. Real job and all.”

“Get lost, Keishin,” you say, rolling your eyes. You toss your lipgloss into your makeup bag and turn to him. “I have classes to teach.”

“Of course you do. Have a good day at work, Princess.” he says, and the ballsy bastard actually kisses you before getting out of your car. You give him your best-unimpressed glare, and his smile widens when he turns and sees your expression before heading into the store.

And okay, yeah, maybe you a part of you is blushing and giggling on the inside like some idiot schoolgirl, but only because you’ve been treated like many things in your lifetime, from bitch to queen to child, but no one had ever made you feel like the Keishin does, like an actual, honest to God, princess.

But the other part is trying to figure out when he got so cocky, and how you’d allowed that to happen. Before you can contemplate further, a group of third-year students passes your car, and you put the car back into drive. Suddenly self-aware of how strange you must look mooning after the Sakanoshita Store guy, of all people.

You ponder it on the walk to your classroom, your sex life, or whatever it’s called, with Keishin Ukai is excellent, you’ll be the first to admit. He’s the first man ever to make your voice hoarse from moaning. But the last thing you want is for him to get a big head over it. He’s annoying enough as it is, thanks.

No, you need to get Keishin back down to Earth, somehow. He needs to be taught a lesson, taken down a peg.

And just like that, it hits you. Throwing a glance at your class, who are all too busy with morning pleasantries to notice, you pull out your phone and do a quick google search, you find the article you’re looking for and skim it. You’ll need to do some after-school shopping, but you’ll gladly sacrifice that cute skirt from H&M for this. You put your phone away and neatly write a line of notes about the kinematics on the chalkboard, drawing a smug little smiley face in the corner. Oh, this is going to be fun.

Your next 'meeting’ (because what the fuck else are you supposed to call it?) with Keishin is on Friday, and today is Tuesday. If you stop at the sex shop tonight and get the supplies, you’ll have two nights to figure them out. Which is essential because the last thing you want is to be unskilled in front of Keishin. He’d never shut up about it.

The school day passes by in a blur. You faintly remember scolding Nishinoya for using Tanaka as a springboard and a brief conversation with Hinata about the ‘epic highs and lows of high school volleyball’. Also, the concept of mitochondrial DNA had been clunking around your headspace for most of the day which was odd because you don’t even teach biology. Still, mostly you were just focused on the tantalizing idea of giving Keishin a taste of his own medicine.

You drive to the sex shop two towns over, as opposed to the one just off the highway, partly because it’s cleaner, but mostly because there’s less of a risk of seeing someone you know. You’d hate to have a student catching you buying a strap-on. Oh, the rumors.

The salesperson is a heavily tattooed girl with electric blue hair and a black heart stamped on each freckled cheekbone. She’s really helpful, though. She takes her time explaining just how all the buckles work, and which dildo to buy to fit into which harness, so do your best not to judge her too harshly. She also recommends buying silicone-based lube over water-based lube, because apparently it lasts longer and isn’t harmful in anal sex the way it is in vaginal sex.

So you give her a five-dollar tip for her troubles, to which she responds by giving you the toothiest smile you’ve seen in your entire life and telling you your boyfriend has no idea how lucky he is.

Which you give her another three dollars for because she’s completely right.

(About Keishin not knowing how lucky he is to have you. Not about him being your boyfriend, because he’s fucking not, okay?)

You bring your goodies home, feeling like you always feel after shopping: like you’ve just gotten a load of Christmas presents, and they’re waiting to be unwrapped. You have the presence of mind to hide the black and red bag in your oversized purse before entering your building. Just in case you happen to share the elevator with one of the old ladies on your floor.

Once you get into your apartment, you lock your door and layout your purchases on your dining room table, immediately picking up the dildo to test its weight. You’d picked a sparkly ribbed one, not because you particularly like it, but because you can’t wait to see Keishin’s face when he saw it. You’re pretty sure it’ll end up somewhere between shock, reproach, and begrudging amusement.

It’s the same abrasive yellow as Keishin’s bleached hair, average-sized, chosen more for entertainment value than anything else. You slot it into place then give the shaft an experimental tug to see just how well the metal ring in the harness holds it in place. Satisfied with the result, you examine the nubby, double-pronged vibrator on the opposite end of the harness. It’s supposed to go inside you when everything’s in place, so you get something out of it while you fuck Keishin senseless.

Though you’re reasonably sure that the very act itself of fucking Keishin senseless would have you curling your toes, you’re not about to deny yourself some extra stimulation.

You test the silicone lube between your fingertips. It feels weird, like the silicone-based face primer you’d used in high school, though this was less powdery and more expensive. You test on the skin above your knee, curious to see how long it takes to dry off.

While you wait, you take all of your clothes off, hanging up your blazer and throwing the rest in the hamper. You examine the harness, it’s an intimidating contraption of black nylon and silvery buckles, but that doesn’t deter you. You’re a high school science teacher, thank you very much. You explain physics to teenagers all day. This is nothing compared to that.

And actually, when you fit it onto your hips, it’s not too bad. A strap goes around each thigh, like a bikini, and one loops around your waist. You tighten the straps and peer down at the yellow, glittery penis now hanging heavily at the apex of your thighs. Huh. So this is what penises are like?

You grip the base and stroke up, grimacing at the sensation of your hand skidding over the rubber. Oh. Lube. Right. You squeeze some lube onto the dildo and start stroking again, much smoother this time. You hate how good the angle is; no wonder guys get so picky about handjobs. You fist it for a few minutes, feeling the vibrator bump against your clit. Which, considering its not even on, has no right to feel that good.

Once you get used to the way the dildo moves within its ring and how to compensate for the way the straps shift on your hips, you take the strap-on off and clean the dildo of lube. The stuff is way better than water-based lube, and you can’t wait to see it in action. You pack the strap-on and the lube back into the bag and leave it in your bedroom. Then you take a seat at your dining room table, pulling out a stack of ungraded papers instead. Time to spend some quality time with Marie Curie.

The next two days are validating, if nothing else. Keishin’s decided to go full little shit and keeps sexting you in the middle of your lectures like you’re supposed to just be able to explain oxygen theory of combustion after receiving a text detailing just how hard his cock is. You’d given him your best glare and sent a lengthy email telling him to fuck off, but to no avail. Plus, yesterday, he showed up at your office hours after practice, covered in sweat, and looking ridiculously hot, “just to say hi.” You won’t let it bother you, though. He’ll get what he deserves soon enough.

By Friday afternoon, you’re a mass of nerves and vindictive anticipation. Keishin’s been shooting you heated smirks all day. At lunch, he purposefully spills a packet soy sauce all over his hand just to seductively lick it off each of his fingers. You think it really speaks to your libido that, under the righteous indignation, you were actually pretty turned on by that. Stupid fucking Keishin, getting you hot and bothered with convenience store dumplings, of all things.

You’re practically vibrating when you open the door to your apartment at seven sharp, tamping down on your anxiety. You give Keishin your most relaxed, most expectant smile, and he responds by giving you that stupid(ly sexy) smirk and thrusting a bottle of cheap wine your way.

“Hey, Princess,” he says, bending down to peck you on the cheek. “How was your week?”

“Um,” you blink at him owlishly, thrown, “fine?”

“Really?” Keishin asks, stepping into your apartment and closing the door behind himself. As soon as the lock clicks into place, he’s on you like a starfish, head tucked into your neck. “Because mine’s been torture. All I can think about is how gorgeous you look under me. Over me. Everywhere. God, you drive me nuts.”

You feel something heavy in your chest. You bring your hands up to card through his hair. “I know the feeling.” Because all jokes and exasperation aside, Keishin’s under your skin in a big way, pumping you full of something that tastes like burnt, thick sugar and smells like Valentine’s Day chocolates. You’re drowning in Keishin Ukai, and you fucking love it.

“Do you now?” Keishin stills, then his hands change directions on your back, one scooping down to you ass and the other up into your hair. “And how does it feel, Princess?”

Oh, and there’s the smarmy little imp that’s been harassing you in school. Your lips curl into a devilish smile, out of Keishin’s line of sight, and you lean your weight into his hold. “Oh, I’m not sure I can even explain it, Keishin,” you sigh woefully. “Maybe I should just show you instead.”

“I think I could get behind that,” he agrees, pulling back. “Maybe even literally.” He leers down at you, eyes dancing with mirth.

“Classy, Ukai.” You snort despite yourself. “Remind me why I ever agreed to have sex with you?”

“Is that a request or an invitation?” His hands fall to your hips, thumbs rubbing lazy circles into your hipbones, “I accept both.”

You purse your lips, whether to fight a grin or a scowl, you’re unsure. “Let’s take this to the bedroom,” you suggest. “I have a surprise for you.”

“A surprise?” Keishin grins. “Lead the way.”

You set the wine bottle on the table and lead him by the hand to your room, hips swaying, nerves were forgotten. This is going to be so much fun. You open the door to your room, watching Keishin leap onto the bed. “Close your eyes and take off your clothes,” you order, unbuttoning your blouse. Keishin inhales sharply, eyes falling shut as he peels off his shirts and wiggles free from his pants. He’s already half-hard, boxers just beginning to tent.

“Can I open my eyes yet?”

“Not yet, no,” you replied, opening the drawer and pulling out your bag of tricks. you slid the strap-on into place, tightening the buckles with confident, practiced accuracy. “I thought we’d try something different today. Just the thought of it has kept me wet all week.”

Keishin twitches in his boxers, fists clenching on the edge of the bed. “Now, I’ve got to know. ”

“Open your eyes.”

Keishin blinks them open, freezing when they land on the dildo. You stroke it slowly, delighting in the way a ruddy blush works up his toned chest.

“Oh,” he says, sounding faintly disappointed. “I thought….”

“You thought you could tease me all week at school and get away with it,” you supply, baring your teeth when he flinches. “Newsflash asshole, every action has an equal and opposite reaction. So, what do you think of my cock, Keishin? I picked it out special, just for you.”

Keishin shudders, bowing his head in supplication. “Tell me what to do,” he says, voice gone hoarse.

“Answer the question.”

“It’s, uh,” Keishin stammers, glancing up at it, “it’s very… pretty?”

“Damn straight, it is,” you growl, striding toward the bed in long, slow steps. “What are you going to do with such a pretty cock, Keishin?” And wow, where is this coming from? You’re just supposed to fuck him and get it over with. This aggression is all-new, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t feel good. And, judging by how hard Keishin is, you assume the feeling is mutual.

“Can I suck it?” he asks meekly, eyes pointedly not meeting yours. A total display of submission. You approve. You move to stand in front of him, positioning the cock at his lips, quirking an eyebrow at him.

Keishin groans, reaching out to suck the head into his mouth. He bobs his head, working deeper down your shaft each time. You bite your lip, feeling a hot wave of arousal work down your spine. He’s beautiful like this, cheeks hollowed around the length of yellow, sparkly rubber. Your hand leaves the base to cup the back of his head, and his hand takes its place. He pulls back to suckle at the head, eyes looking up at you heatedly.

Fuck.

“So pretty,” you sigh, hand petting the dark hair on the nape of his neck. “I can see why guys like this so much.” Keishin’s eyes flutter shut, lashes long against his cheekbones. “What do you think, Keishin? Do you like sucking cock?”

Keishin moans, sucking as deep as he can go. When his eyes meet yours again, they’re desperate. His free hand moves to his own cock, pulling it out of the gape of his underwear.

You freeze, pulling his head back by the grip in his hair. “Did I say you could touch yourself?” Keishin shoots you a pleading look, but you’re already pulling out of his mouth, dildo shiny with spit. “Take them off, get on the bed. Hands and knees.”

He stumbles to do your bidding, cock dark red and angry-looking. You pick up the lube from where you’d placed it on the nightstand and kneel behind him. The lube opens with a wet click that makes Keishin jerk in surprise. You spread the lube liberally on your fingers, reaching out to trace one over his hole, teasing. Keishin mewls and pushes back, eagerly. You feel another gush of heat between your legs, pushing the finger in slowly. You work the finger in and out, curling it down to find his prostate. You find it on the fourth try, judging by the way he keens and clenches around you.

The second finger is met with a little resistance, and Keishin takes in a deep breath to relax his muscles. You kiss the small of his back in praise, scissoring the fingers once you’re able. This is a lot more intimate than you’d expected it to be, working Keishin open like this. It fills you with a strange sense of responsibility, you want to do this right, you want to make it good for him.

“Just relax, Keishin,” you whisper, as he whines and clenches around your third finger, “you can do this. We can stop anytime you want.”

Keishin heaves a great, shivering breath, but he relaxes. You work as slowly as you can, pushing against his rim more than thrusting in until he’s loose enough to take you. You squirt more lube onto your fingers, pushing them slowly into him until he takes them all the way to the knuckle. You make sure to graze his prostate every few thrusts, only content when he’s moving back to meet you thrust-for-thrust.

“M'ready,” he whispers, sounding wrecked. You pressed a kiss his hipbone in sympathy. “Want you.”

“Okay,” you say softly, pulling your lube-slick fingers out of him. You lube up your cock quickly, pressing the tip to his rim. “You sure?”

“Do it, Princess,” he says, wriggling his hips, “or I’ll start bringing bananas for lunch.”

You huff out a laugh, rolling your eyes. “Idiot.” You hold the cock firmly in one hand, pressing it carefully into him. His breath hitches and stops, and he leans into the intrusion. You press a wet kiss to the back of his neck when the head slides in. “How’s that?” You ask, moving slowly until the base of the dildo is pressed against his ass.

“Gimme a minute,” he manages, shoulders locked with tension. You hold your position, rubbing soothingly over his back and down his flanks. After a minute, he moves, shoulders relaxing. “Go slow, okay?”

You murmur an “okay” and pull out an inch. You move back in, starting a rhythm of tiny thrusts. You only lengthen them when he grows impatient and flails a hand at you. You pull out almost all the way, then shove back in, gasping when the vibrator buzzes to life over your clit.

You begin moving in earnest, grinding into him to feel the vibrator flutter against your clit. God, it felt good. You shift to the right a little, and Keishin moans, all high and whimpery and divine. You move to hit that spot again, grinning when he chokes out another moan. You angle yourself so that all of your thrusts will meet that spot, draping yourself over his back to work a hand on his cock. He’s hard as a rock and dripping pre-cum as he twitches under your touch.

Keishin makes a broken sound and works his hips, thrusting back onto your fake cock and forward into your fist. You feel the world spin around you; this was by far the hottest thing you ever done with anyone.

And you think Keishin might agree because thirty seconds later he starts babbling:“ fuck, I’m gonna cum. Shit, feel so perfect inside me, please, let me cum, tell me I can cum, please. I need you to say yes, please.”

You suck in a breath through your teeth. He wants you to give him permission? Oh, fuck, yes. “Cum for me, Keishin, wanna see you cum around my cock,” you command, voice deeper than you’d ever heard it. Keishin whimpers, and he’s cumming, hips spasming. You watch his hole clench around your cock and feel yet another gush of heat, this one dripping down your thighs. You continue to move inside him until he gasps and pulls away. You pull out slowly, groaning at the way his skin tugs around the length of you.

He flips onto his back as soon as he’s free, fingers racing to undo the buckles of your harness. “You didn’t come.” He huffs, tugging at the straps, “I wanna make you come. Please let me.”

You shove the strap-on away, throwing it half-way across the room. “How do you want me, Keishin?”

Keishin collapses, rubbery, on the bed. “Sit on my face, Princess.”

Fuck. You can do that. You move up until your knees bracket his head and hold yourself over his face. “Fuck, you’re so wet,” he whispers, kissing the dampness from your thighs, working up to your center.

He licks into you delicately, mopping up all of your juices. You’re hypersensitive already and gasp into his teasing touches. Keishin slides his tongue inside you, curling it upwards. You keen, grinding down onto his mouth before you can stop yourself. You move to pull off to apologize, but Keishin holds your hips down, face more blissful than you’ve ever seen it. You run your fingers through his hair, swiveling your hips over his mouth.

“Need you on my clit,” you gasp and Keishin hums (which, okay, wow) and sucks your clit between his lips, sliding two thick fingers into you. He licks and sucks at you, pushing you farther and farther closer to the edge, but it’s the gentle nibble that finally pushes you over it. You scream soundlessly, fingers scrambling for purchase on the bed. His hands keep you from falling off his mouth as he licks you down from your orgasm. When you mewl in discomfort, he presses one last kiss to you clit before pulling away.

You collapse next to him, thighs sore and blissed out.

“Learn your lesson?” you asked him sleepily, eyes closing.

“No wonder none of the boys are failing physics. You’re quite the teacher,” Keishin nods, still panting slightly. “Though, I think you may have to go over it again sometime.”

You laugh and turn to look at him. He’s smiling back at you, eyes soft and happy. The heavy feeling in your chest returns, and you feel like you can’t breathe. You lean in and kiss him, ignoring the way he tastes like you. His own flavor was much sweeter. “I think we can manage that,” you whisper against his glistening lips.

He lazily tangles his hand in yours and brings it up to kiss you knuckles. “Good.”

When you wake the next morning with muscular forearms wrapped around you, you panic for a moment before remembering who it is and relax into Keishin’s embrace.

[cockasinthebird]

Laced up and ready to get dirty

Fingers tighten around the leather of the steering wheel, tensing till his knuckles go white then relaxing again. Deep breath in, then a long exhale. In… and out...

Steve is excited and thrilled and eager but also completely, devastatingly… nervous.

He angles the rearview mirror to look at himself and fidgets with his hair- not that it needs to be retouched for the fifteenth time today already, but it buys him time. Precious time to waste away on hesitation, and the longer he gets to hesitate, the less likely he is to actually.... He glances down the tan, buttoned up trench coat and triple checks that it’s closed all the way up and pulls on the belt to tighten it around his waist till he loses breath, JUST to be safe and secure.

It was a stupid spur-of-the-moment idea he got last week when he was visiting Hawkins to clear out whatever was left of his childhood home; his parents selling it now that Steve doesn’t live there anymore, all with such a lack of grace that shows they never really cared for that house, as if it was nothing more than a lavish cage for their only child. In a bag of clothes marked for donation - his father’s idea of philanthropy - Steve found an old Burberry trench coat, truly as fashionable and fitting now as it was back then, only difference being that as an adult who pays for everything himself, this coat would now be the most expensive thing in his and Billy’s entire apartment. Maybe he should have been more grateful for all that he had back then, or so his father would say whenever he found time to reprimand his son, but that wasn’t what he needed.

“Arrh, fuck!” Steve groans and rubs his face in hopes of recentering himself on the task at hand. He could mope around and be sad about his terrible father later, right now there’s more important things to do.

Such as opening the door to the same old BMW, the car soon on its last legs, having only survived this many years thanks for Billy’s expertise truly. It’s a bit colder out on the street than Steve expected, or maybe just a bit too windy, but he isn’t exactly wearing it to stay warm as much as he is to stay covered.

The hem of it grazes against the top of his suede boots as he takes decisive but careful steps around his car, now facing the open carport that exposes the inner works of the small service shop. It’s been almost a year since Billy got hired here as a mechanic, and it is possibly the happiest Steve’s ever seen him. Neither of them ever dreamed of big and important lives, no wanting to be a doctor or president or astronaut. All they wanted to be was happy, and they’ve found it in the simplest way possible.

He spots Billy immediately, past all the sweaty men, scattered car parts, and open hoods, he sees his boyfriend rise up from having just been shoulders deep in the guts of a shiny pontiac, coveralls tied around his waist, his white tank soaked with sweat, arms stained black with oil and grease.

The sight of it all sends delightful shivers down Steve’s entire body, ears to toes, and as he watches Billy wipe away sweat from his brow, well suddenly Steve’s far more confident in what he came here to do.

It shows in the way he marches towards Billy, who turns with a cocked brow at the assertive footsteps approaching him, where once he sees that it’s Steve demanding his attention, the most effortlessly smooth and charming smile spreads across his face, lids heavy to match the way Steve stares - something so salacious in the way his eyes glide up and down Billy’s dirty body, shiny with sweat.

“What are you doing here, princess?” Billy asks in a low and gravelly tone, quickly glancing around to see if anyone heard.

“Hmmm well…” Steve coos and plays lightly with the belt of his coat, the way his fingers flirt with the fabric hopefully clear with his intent, then speaks bluntly, “I woke up kinda horny today, y’know? Thought I’d save it for later- for when you come home, and tried distracting myself with doing the dishes or vacuum or anything really, but my hand just kept going down to jerk myself off-”

“Jesus Christ Stevie,” Billy breathes harshly.

“-and so eventually I wound up back in bed, on my knees, three fingers deep in me-” Steve wiggles said fingers for certain emphasis. “-but it just wasn’t enough. I need something thicker and veinier.”

With every word his stomach ties knots around itself, yet his dick is filled with life at how risky this is, with how much he needs to feel Billy pounding him sore and weak.

“And what do you want me to do about that?” Billy licks his lips, a hand reaching down to inconspicuously cup at his growing erection.

“I was hoping you could help me with my little problem? Ensuring that my engine is properly lubricated,” Steve’s naughty little smile fails at his own words, growing wider and betraying the sexy facade.

But it doesn’t seem that Billy minds as he laughs a bit too loud, biting his lower lip as if that would help keep his own smile more casual than one filled with exuberant joy. “You’re a menace- that was absolutely horrible,” he chuckles and brings both hands to his hips.

“Don’t be mean, I worked on it all the way here!” Steve’s own amusement bubbling over and into his voice.

Billy dares take a step closer, eyes slipping from Steve’s lips down his neck, pausing where he should be able to see the collar of a shirt. “You don’t have to try so hard for me, baby. Just tell me what you need, and maybe I can be of assistance.”

Steve’s expression dips back into something most indecent, his gaze burning with desire, pink lips parted as he slowly enunciates, “I need you to fuck me, hard and rough. I want your hands all over me, want your cock in me so fucking bad I think I might go insane without it. Please Billy, I-I can’t wait till you get home,” desperation seeps in as his tone goes almost whiny.

And Billy gapes like a fish, lips hesitating around emptiness as he tries to formulate thoughts. He glances around the shop, up at a clock hanging above the “Employees Only” sign, brow furrowed as he contemplates his options, all the while Steve waits as patiently as he can, pulling the belt tighter around his waist as if it would magically open up if he didn’t.

“Why don’t we… step into my office, and I’ll see what I can do?”

 Unfortunately by “office” Billy meant the blindingly bright, claustrophobically small employee bathroom. It’s maybe 6 by 6 feet large and not at all what Steve had in mind, but he’s not going to complain about the abnormally large mirror above the sink. And at least it looks clean… enough.

Steve’s quick to turn to Billy as soon as the lock clicks, grabbing on to the white tank and using it to guide him to sit down on the toilet.

Billy, however, disagrees with that immediately and moves to touch Steve, who just as swiftly grabs his wrist, restricting his reach. 

"Billy-" he starts off a bit agitated, but smoothes into something more agreeable, "Baby, if you get my coat dirty, you'll be eating cornflakes till you can afford to send it to the dry cleaner." 

The way Billy laughs at that is mocking in a sense, but his shitty grin simply reminds Steve of the thrill he felt back in high school, after they started fucking around but before they became serious about one another. 

"Forgot what a priss you can be sometimes, princess," he drawls and leans back, licking his lips as he settles with something vaguely familiar to patience.

“Hmmm…” Steve hums, slowly untying the belt of his coat. “You like that I’m high maintenance sometimes.”

He smoothly slips out of the heavy boots.

“Makes you feel real good about yourself though, getting to fuck someone with above average standards.”

In a show of how agile and limber he is, Steve stretches out his leg where the coat parts in front, and hooks his heel over Billy’s shoulder. Who in turn stares with a bit wider eyes at the silky soft, pastel pink nylon stockings clinging to Steve’s shin. Billy’s grip on his own thighs tighten with self restraint, the urge to touch the smoothness of Steve nearly unbearable.

“Did you shave your legs?”

“I did, for you.” Steve generally doesn’t care about leg hair, but found it a bit awkward looking when his thick, dark hairs stuck out of the bright nylon. “Wanna see what else I’ve shaved?”

Leisurely but with gentle pressure, Steve lets his foot glide down Billy’s chest, over his abs and all the sweat stains of his tank, past where the sleeves of his coveralls have been tied together, till he finds Billy’s hard cock tenting already, eliciting a lurid little hiss as he rubs it with the sole of his foot.

“God, you’re so easy, baby,” Steve speaks low with intent, drawing circles, revelling in the choked groans. “Getting you hard like this is effortless.”

At an all too agonizing pace, deliberate and mean, Steve unbuttons his coat from the bottom and up, exposing more and more of his thighs, the build up thrilling him as he watches how Billy sweats and struggles to remain dormant. Oh how he cannot wait to get the coat off and let his boyfriend ravage him completely, even the mere thought of it makes his own prick throb and beg for attention.

Billy stares with the most attention he’s probably ever shown any one person, eyes following the movement of Steve’s fingers, up and up and up, until a hint of lace gets revealed at the end of the stocking, cute and floral and feminine, a dozen small roses hugging the pale flesh, shiny straps leading further up to hide beneath the tan of the trench coat.

Steve caresses his thigh, hooking a finger beneath the strap and pulls it up only to let it snap back against his skin loudly, the sound reverberating, all the while never looking away from how Billy watches with intense hunger.

The burning gaze affixed to fingers follow right along, as Steve makes a bit of a jump and starts unbuttoning from the top now. One by one, till he runs his index along the hem, up to where it grazes against his neck, to pull slowly so that one shoulder can slip out, uncovering the strap of what can only be a bra, reaching down to hold on to delicate lace.

Harsh sighs escapes Billy as he attempts to control his breathing and himself, tongue darting out to wet his lips - Steve can feel the way Billy’s fat cock pumps full of blood beneath his foot.

There’s only two buttons left, and as one of them falls free, the coat drops down to bunch around Steve’s waist and the sink he’s leaning against, putting the pink, lacy bralette on full display; roses and leafs arranged into small triangles that sits tight against Steve’s pecks, his nipples just barely visible beneath the gorgeous and elegant fabric.

“Stevie, babe, please, I’m going to explode here,” Billy complains in an almost hilariously irritated manner, raising his hand up towards Steve’s thigh-

“No touching yet, I’m not done.” Steve swiftly kicks away that dirty hand.

“Thought you needed me to fuck you so bad,” the mocking response comes as Billy’s hand retreats to dig into his pocket.

And Steve pauses with his fingers around the final button that will unravel everything. “Well yes, but the thrill of anticipation gets me so hard.”

He pushes it out, wraps his hands around the coat and slowly pulls it apart, like a curtain revealing a true masterpiece of craftsmanship. And if Billy’s eyes were wide before, they’re now threatening to pop out at the sight of the garter belt attached to the stockings hugging Steve’s waist perfectly, and a thong matching the bralette in shape and lace, that might once have had a chance of containing all that Steve is, but now his long, full dick reaches up towards the belt with hard pride.

“Holy fucking shit,” Billy gapes, “I didn’t forget our anniversary or something, did I?”

Steve chuckles and blushes slightly at the attention and knowledge of just how stunning he looks. “Can’t I just surprise my boyfriend for no reason other than fun?”

“I’m sure you can, but I’m also sure you have some ulterior motive… not that I’m complaining.”

The sly smirk across Steve’s face suits him well as he slips out of the coat entirely, and reaches out to hang it on the hook attached to the bathroom door. Now fully exposed before Billy, Steve spreads his legs a bit further, runs his fingers lightly over the lace of his bra, and bats his eyes slowly.

Who stands up just as slowly, hesitantly, as if he’s still awaiting orders, as if Steve will tell him to stop and sit down any second now. When he reaches out Steve grabs his wrist, firm and assertive, but doesn’t linger in that moment; brings Billy’s hand up and up to touch his cheek, brushing fingers against pale skin and defiling it with dark smudges of oil. Still Steve doesn’t relent as he guides the hand down again till the rough palm presses against his throat, and Billy takes the opportunity immediately to squeeze.

A gasp hurries out at the sudden tightness around his airway and Steve’s eyes rolls back with the pleasure that jolts through his system, making his already painfully hard prick pulsate worse.

“Fuck, Billy…”

The other hand lands on his thigh, besmirching the pretty pink there, pushing into the soft flesh. As Steve closes his eyes to enjoy the euphoric, brutish hold he’s under, Billy dives in all tongue and teeth, biting at his lower lip and licking in to taste how sweet his spit is. Steve lifts up his free leg to hook it around Billy’s hips, drawing him in, finally allowing them both some heady friction, encouraged by strangled moans.

“Mmh- arrh, shit, pretty boy, this really couldn’t wait till I got home?” Billy growls against Steve’s lips, tickling as they brush together.

“I- mmh-ah, I wanted you dirty and risky like this,” Steve coos as low as he can and chases a kiss, but Billy leans away with such a shit eating grin. “Billy-” Another chase. “-Billy, please.”

“Don’t gotta beg, princess,” Billy’s laugh rumbles like thunder on a summer night; warm and deep and comforting

He takes a step back, Steve’s body instinctively trying to follow at the abrupt lack of touch, and with quick hands Billy undoes the way the sleeves are tied around his waist, unzips the rest of his coveralls that fall without effort to the floor, and pulls down his dark trunks enough for his steely cock to practically spring free.

The way Steve audibly inhales at the sight of it is almost humoristic, his body now acutely aware of everything that’s about to happen.

“How do you want it?” Billy drawls.

And it brings Steve back from the more indecent places his mind went at the sight of what he’s been hungering for all day. Half of him wants to drop to his knees and suck Billy dry till he’s delirious, the winning half however… He looks away for only as long as it takes him to retrieve the small and discreet bottle of lube from his coat pocket and pops it open before Billy can even speak again. He pours it into his own palm and closes his hand around Billy’s thick dick, stroking him quickly with impatience, slicking up every inch of hard flesh.

“I want you to fuck me from behind, bend me over the sink and pound my hole till I’m on the verge of tears,” Steve’s voice a lewd little thing, a salacious whisper only Billy would ever be found worthy of hearing, ghosting across his lips.

To which the only appropriate response Billy deem fit is to grab on to his boyfriend’s naked hips and spin him around, leaving clear, gross handprints that get smudged when those same hands smooth their way down to fill out with Steve’s ass.

Steve’s all too eager to bend down over the short sink, bracing himself on the porcelain edges as he watches how Billy admires the view through the mirror. The way those clear blue eyes stare down at his exposed self, tongue out to lick his lips like a wolf would before pouncing on an innocent lamb; it makes his heart beat faster, drowning his senses in quick waves of heavy lust.

“So pretty for me, baby, all laced up and fingered, wish you could see this.”

Billy gazes up through his lashes to meet Steve in their reflection. He grins with his tongue caught between teeth as he raises his hand just enough for Steve to have a moment of realisation before there’s a loud smack and stinging sensation.

“Mmh- ah! Fuck…” Steve barely manages to catch the moan with a bite of lips, his cock dripping with pre cum into the sink, whining with elation as the firm palm on his ass massages the red print.

A finger hooks itself on the slight string of the thong that runs between spread cheeks, pulls it aside, allowing Billy a good eyeful of Steve’s rim still wet with lube.

“You really just stood out in the shop in nothing but this, all slippery and ready for me to fuck your tight little hole with my fat cock?” He pulls on the fabric till it can’t stretch any further, wrapping it around a finger to allow himself freedom to grab on to Steve’s ass again. “Came all this way because you needed me to fill you up with my cum so bad.”

The blunt head of his cock lines up perfectly with Steve’s greedy entrance, and the poor, needy brunette can’t help but push against it, eyes fluttering closed as he slowly slides further and further along Billy’s dick, who hums with appreciation at the way the other is so willing to do all the work, velvety muscles clenching around him when he bottoms out.

“That good for you?” he asks kindly and squeezes Steve’s fleshy, pale cheeks.

Steve draws shallow circles with his ass pressed firmly against Billy’s hips, breathing in a manner that would be moans at home in bed, panting and sighing now; low drawn out hums. He sounds relieved, like Billy’s girthy cock was exactly what he needed, swallowing thickly as he nods, incapable of words lest they come out too loud.

Billy leans in to kiss up Steve’s shoulder, giving every mole on his way the attention they deserve, moves up his neck to the shell of his ear, snaking an arm around to hold Steve by the throat softly and tenderly.

“You’re so fucking tight, princess,” he purrs and nibbles at Steve’s ear as he leisurely starts moving his hips back and forth, adoring how breathless Steve looks in their reflection, mouth hanging open.

With his other hand he leaves a trail of oil stains up Steve’s stomach, leading to where Billy smoothes his fingers across shaved pecs, caressing the skin as he teases the frilly edges of the pink bralette, his every touch like fire igniting inside of Steve, his body tensing delightfully.

Billy squeezes tighter around Steve’s throat, a gesture that can be felt vividly in the way his wet dick pulsates and drips - pre cum running down his aching flesh to wet the thong even worse. The thrusts grow longer and deeper, Billy pulling out till just the head is inside, then tentatively pushes back in till he’s balls deep, and every time he runs over that certain spot inside of Steve a sensuous little gasp escapes those perfect lips.

“Look at what a mess you are, baby.” He brings them as close as possible - Steve’s back against his chest, rim choking around the base of his cock.

And Steve opens his eyes just enough to get a good view of how oil and grease has stained his pale skin and somewhat expensive lingerie, pastel roses and delicate embroidery defiled and tarnished beyond repair no doubt. His painfully hard dick that with a stroke or two would have him come undone. Billy’s crystal clear eyes that stare back intently; hungry- no, starved for this.

“A beautiful…” Billy kisses Steve’s neck with undeniable love and infatuation. “Needy…” Lips at the crook of his neck. “Desperate…” His shoulder. “Mess.”

Billy pulls out and slams back in so suddenly it barely leaves Steve time to catch his lucid gasp before it would have been heard from outside the door. Billy’s hips snap against Steve’s ass again and again at an indelicate pace, his teeth sunk into a shoulder as he bites back his moans, eyes trained on the way Steve’s brows knit together, eyes squeezed shut tight as he struggles with his own wanting to give sound to the burning desire lighting him up.

Skin slapping together, the obscenely wet sounds of Billy pounding Steve’s hole, ramming against that glorious sweet spot over and over, it’s intoxicating, fueling the white hot fire that coils at the bottom of Steve’s gut. Both of Billy’s hardened hands grab at Steve’s pecs, the skin of his fingers toughened up from fiddling with engines all day, rough against Steve’s sensitive nipples as Billy pulls down the bra to pinch and squeeze.

“Mmh ah- fuck-” Steve’s eyes roll back at the flourishing bliss that forms in his chest. “Billy…”

“Yeah, you like that?” A rhetorical question that barely receives an answer before Billy presses his dirty thumbs harder against the strutting buds.

Steve’s thighs tremble from it all, teeth biting at his lower lip as he fights every instinct to let it all out. And from the way Billy leers and grins mischievously at the sight in the mirror, there can be no doubt he knows.

Moves his hands to grab Steve’s hips with near bruising tension as he starts slamming into him, thrusting with intense fervor; the pace punishing and the sounds of how their bodies collide worse. Billy’s eyes are pinned to the spread of cheeks where his steely cock pounds into his boyfriend’s tight, slippery hole, his breathing ragged and tongue out wagging enthusiastically.

And Steve’s helplessly lost in his own euphoria of the moment; a hand flies up to clasp at his mouth, the other pressing against the mirror for the sake of balance so as to not get shoved against it whenever Billy rams inside, helping Steve inch closer and closer to climax, with breathless groans and grunts, sighs and whines, all too loud for such a public setting, yet not loud enough for such an intimate act.

Billy bends over to press his sweaty forehead against Steve’s shoulder, gaze still locked to where heat flares up at every plunge, at the way Steve’s body clings to his veiny dick.

“You’re so perfect like this, baby,” his voice rough like wet gravel, “So eager and greedy. Gonna cum in you, Stevie boy, fill you up till you’re ready to burst.”

“Please,” the self-restraint apparent in his tone. “I-I’m so close.”

Then there’s a hand in his hair, yanking and pulling his flushed face off of the mirror and back, his intense breathing fogging up the mirror as he struggles to keep hushed through his sudden orgasm that washes through him, the intensity blinding, his every nerve buzzing vividly at the unexpected release till there’s nothing left in him, but the sensation of Billy vigorously driving his girthy cock in and out, sending forth slight waves of static heat.

Till it comes to a stop with one forceful shove, the hand in his hair tightening, the fingers by his hip digging in, as Billy buries himself completely, pressing Steve against the sink till his thighs hurt from the porcelain edge jabbing him.

But it’s worth it to feel how every muscle flexes, Billy’s teeth closing around Steve’s shoulder to muffle his deep rooted moan that almost escapes in its entirety. Worth it when Billy comes down from his high and relaxes again, yet stays here like this, softening inside of Steve’s well used hole, arms wrapping around his chest to hold him close whilst they both catch their breaths.

Billy kisses gentle apologies across the imprints his teeth made on Steve’s skin, up his neck and as far across his cheek and jaw as he can reach from behind.

And Steve simply stands still, caught between his boyfriend’s broad figure and the white sink, convinced he would fall if Billy stepped back. He leans into the loving attention he’s receiving, every press of lips to his sweaty skin a blissful little source of tender satisfaction. When he finally opens his eyes again after having mindlessly drifted away in the afterglow, he just barely catches the way Billy glances down and grins in a rather humoured way.

“At least you got most of it in the sink,” he rumbles against Steve’s shoulder.

Looking down Steve sees his cum splattered into the sink, yet a few good drops made it up around the faucet and almost even to the wall. Yet his first thought is that he could have made it onto the mirror if he had jerked himself off to completion.

“Who’s going to clean it up?” Steve huffs a little laugh and meets Billy’s gaze in their reflection.

Who tries to hide his smile with kisses. “Hmmm I dunno, kinda wanna see what happens if we just leave it like this; who my boss is gonna blame for cumming in the employee’s bathroom.”

“Gross.”

“It’s yours, princess,” Billy chuckles out and rests his chin on Steve’s shoulder.

“So you’re saying I should clean up after myself?”

“Mhm, yup,” the p pops.

When something changes in Steve’s expression, a clear difference from one second to another, lids heavy as he turns his head to look at Billy with lips inches apart.

“Then it’s only fair that you clean up after yourself, too, don’t you think?”

[carelessannie]

maybe it goes like this: tony courts peter (part 7)

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight | Chapter Nine | Chapter Ten | Epilogue

Read on A03

Read the Stuckony backstory

Word count: 5.7K

Pack focus. This means Clint x Peter x Annie (OFC), Clint x Steve, Steve x Peter, Bucky x OFC, and Steve x Tony x Bucky x Clint x Annie x Peter (wow)

It all goes to hell, because, of course it does. But it’s exciting to fix it, because everyone is falling in love.

Major warnings: D/S Au, A/B/O Au, subdrop, almost a fight bc Clint is aggressive

---

maybe it goes like this:

“So… have you heard from him yet?”

Annie sighs, rolling her eyes, and refrains from shaking the precious Omega standing behind her,

“Not in the past three minutes, Peter.”

“Sorry, I just—”

“I know, you’re nervous,” she tries to drop the tone, squinting in the bathroom mirror to finish her eyeliner, “why don’t you just call him? Or your boyfriend?”

In the reflection, Peter pouts, crossing his arms, “I tried, but both went to voicemail. He should have been done by now.”

Annie takes care to sweep perfectly symmetrical wings across each upper lid, before exchanging her eyeliner for a brighter tube of mascara. It’s taking a lot of effort to ignore Peter as he stresses over their evening, but no one has ever called her a quitter.

Peter continues his spiral in her silence, “What if they got into a fight? Could he be dead— is there a chance Steve killed him? Or what if he dropped again, and there’s no one there to help him? What if they’re in the hospital—”

Enough.

“Peter, stop it,” Annie finally turns away from the mirror and grabs Peter by his shoulders, “if any of those things happened, one of their packmates would have called by now. I know we have to leave soon, but there’s really nothing we can do, okay?”

Peter’s eyes tear up a bit and he sniffles, looking down at his outfit, which currently is one of Clint’s shirts and a pair of leggings, “Annie, I’m not— I’m not even dressed yet.”

“Let me help you, okay Pete?” she steers him out of the bathroom and towards their wardrobe, picking up her phone to try calling again as they sort through possible outfit choices for Peter.

The phone rings— once, twice, three times— before,

“Yello.”

“Clint Barton! Do you know how many times we’ve tried calling—”

“Annie! Holy shit, Annie— is Peter there? Do you have me on speaker?”

She shakes her head in disbelief while pressing the speaker button, making sure Peter can hear too.

“Is that Clint?” Peter asks, pointing at the phone. Annie nods, and Peter gasps, “You asshole! I tried to call you so many times, where on earth have you been?”

“I’m so sorry, Omega, honestly— the conversation with Steve went longer than I expected and I’m driving back now. But please, I have to tell you— I’m compatible with him!”

Both Omegas exchange a look, clearly confused and doubtful of their Beta.

“What does that mean, Clint?”

“It means I’ve got a chance. I thought I’d hate him, or be forced to put up with him for your sake. But, honestly… he’s pretty amazing. I can tell he cares a whole freaking lot about his pack and I think he’s in this for real.”

Peter reaches out to grab her hand, and Annie can’t help but smile back.

“Did you tell him your history?” Annie prompts, pulling Peter next to her so that they can sit close together on the floor.

She can almost hear Clint waving his hands around, animated in his response. “Yeah, I shared most of it with him and it made him cry, honest to god. I also told him he could catch his mates up to speed—”

“— oh my god, did you see Tony?” Peter cuts in, eyes lighting up as he wrings his tiny hands together nervously.

“Yes, needy Omega, I saw Tony. I gave him the flowers, and we had a little heart to heart, too. Real sexy, you know—”

“Shut up, Clint!” Peter squeals as Annie breaks down into helpless giggles at seeing his face light up pink, “does that mean you talked to all three of them, then?”

A small pause, “... no, actually that was kind of awkward. They said that… it seemed like… they had just finished a scene together when I showed up.”

“Oh, shit.” Annie breaths.

“Yeah, Tony definitely didn’t know I was coming,”

Peter covers his mouth, eyes going wide, “Oh god, I’m so sorry, I literally can’t believe I forgot to tell him. That sounds so horrible, C!”

There’s a chuckle on the other end, “Don’t worry, Petey, no harm done. I’ll be home soon, and we can head back out there, okay?”

Annie gives Peter a small kiss on the cheek before standing, grabbing her phone, saying, “sounds good, see ya Clint,” and hanging up without another word.

She spins, taking in Peter’s lost expression and the clothing scattered around their closet.

Okay. Motivation.

Peter yelps as Annie hauls him up by his armpits, “Time to get ready, Peter. C’mon— you are gonna look absolutely stunning tonight.”

Finally Peter’s expression melts and a genuine smile breaks out over his face. He pulls Annie closer, leaning in for a quick peck on the lips— careful to avoid messing up her lip gloss.

“I adore you, Annie,” he whispers, “— these boys are not gonna know what hit ‘em.”

She reaches up to twist one of his curls playfully before returning a smirk,

“You’re damn right.”

---

“I don’t see why I have to be in the backseat. I clearly called shotgun.”

Clint has been whining ever since they left their apartment, insisting that he was severely wronged by his insolent Omegas. Both of those Omegas are having fun ignoring him— turning up their music and talking louder to drown out his voice.

It took a half hour for Clint to get home after his call, and by some miracle, all three of them were dressed and ready to go with time to spare. Annie had spent time curling Peter’s hair into perfect ringlets before finishing his makeup with sparkly-pink eyeshadow and gloss. Both of them were ready and dressed before Clint got home, and had pushed and prodded the bewildered Beta into a nicer button up with dark jeans and combat boots.

Annie is proud of her and Peter’s outfits, of course. Not many Omegas can pull off pink like they can, and her powdered pink coat goes flawlessly with Peter’s pink polka dot button up. But even more than their outfits, she is proud of how put together their chaotic Beta looks.

After catching Peter glancing back in the rearview mirror for the third time, she decides to say something.

She turns down the music, “You look like a snack, Clint.”

Peter snickers as Clint looks down at himself in bewilderment, “I swear, I’ve never seen these clothes before in my entire life. But, thanks. I guess.”

Since Peter insisted on driving, he can only glance quickly to try and gauge Clint’s expression.

“Those boots are yours,” Peter says.

“Yeah, but when did you guys even have time to buy me clothes?” Clint’s back to complaining, and grumbles sneaky Omegas under his breath.

Annie turns, lightly slapping the inside of Clint’s thigh where he’s sprawled across the backseat, “Hush and take a compliment, Beta. I think I speak for both of us when I say we want to climb you like a tree.”

Peter gasps, swatting at her with one hand, as Clint’s eyes go wide.

She continues, “I mean, it has been awhile since we’ve had a scene, and the mention of Tony’s pack has me—”

Clint leans forward, posture straightening as he grabs her chin to silence her, “— you feeling horny, Omega?” he purrs, a feral grin taking over his face.

“M— maybe.”

“Have I not been taking care of you, Annie?” he moves closer, and forces Annie to turn almost completely in her seat.

“... Clint.”

He grips harder, “Try again.”

“Fuck, Beta. Please.”

“— guys, can this wait—” Peter tries to interrupt, but is quickly shut down by Clint growling, low.

“Sweet Omegas, is that why you dressed me up? Feeling all needy and shit?” he releases his hold on Annie’s chin and moves back to his seat, relaxing again before letting out a sigh, “but you’re right, Pete. This can wait.”

The silence is charged. Both Omegas wiggling in their seats in response to Clint’s dominant display, and Annie whimpers— a small sound that causes Peter’s breath to catch in his throat.

“Aw, Annie. No— come here,” Clint leans forward again, and as she turns he catches her lips in a lingering kiss, licking into her mouth quickly and coaxing a grin out of her.

“Don’t want you to drop, gorgeous. You know I’ll take care of you both, right? Love you so much.”

She pecks him on the lips, satisfied to see some of her pink lip gloss stain his mouth, “Love you, Clint. And you do look amazing tonight.”

“Thanks, pretty Omega,” even though it’s dark in the car, she can tell he’s blushing by the way he ducks his head bashfully.

Annie turns back to face front and catches the slight pout on Peter’s face. She crosses the center console to kiss behind his ear, and enjoys the surprised squawk from the younger Omega.

“Annie! I’m driving!”

Clint laughs, and reaches forward to rub Peter’s shoulder, “We love you too, Petey-pie.”

“Shut up.”

Both of them crack up as Peter shakes himself free. Annie intertwines their fingers and Clint settles back into his seat, quietly staring out the window at the oncoming traffic. She feels a small squeeze and looks up, exchanging a reassuring smile with Peter.

The rest of their drive passes in relative silence, and soon they are pulling up a long, winding driveway into what Annie would swear is a rainforest jungle.

As Peter navigates around the property, he explains, “Tony said that he bought this land right after Steve and Bucky courted him. A lot of it is a nature preserve, and it backs right to the Jamaica Bay. I know all of them wanted to stay in Brooklyn, but Tony absolutely refused to live near anyone, so they built this house together with the hope of living here with their future pack.”

Both Annie and Clint are glued to the window. They watch as the looming trees suddenly part, revealing a modern, sharply-angled, and breathtakingly enormous house. There are at least three stories, and the whole structure seems to be built into the surrounding forest, with a noticeable extension out into the bay.

“Peter,” Annie breathes out, still stunned speechless.

“I know, that’s how I felt earlier.” Clint replies, still looking out at the quickly approaching home.

Peter hums quietly, but Annie can see him shaking slightly. As they pull up and he parks the car, she gives his knuckles a kiss, “Peter?”

He turns and she catches a NervousDistress scent radiating off of him.

That’s not good.

With a quick look to Clint, they both jump out of the car, rounding the side to Peter’s door, and pull the startled Omega out of the driver’s seat.

“What are you— hey!”

“Come here, nervous Omega, and let us hug you,” Clint pulls Peter in, wrapping him in his arms, as Annie turns the car off. She joins the group hug and lets Clint wrap his arms around both of them.

After a few moments, Clint pulls back, gently scenting both of them for any lingering distress. Instead, he groans, “Damn, you two smell like fuckin’ ice cream. So sweet.”

Peter giggles and Annie leans up for a kiss— earning one from Clint first, then Peter.

“Feel better, Peter?” Annie asks, pulling away to look at his face.

He shrugs, “Yes, I just need to trust Tony to do his part, and… I think I’m just really excited to see him again,” he ducks his head, and Clint places another kiss on top.

“Let’s go get ‘em, tiger.”

“Ew, Clint, stop.” Both Omegas complain as Clint tows them towards the entrance, knocking firmly on the door.

They are still arguing about the merits of cheesy nicknames, when the door swings open.

“Tony!” Peter shrieks, throwing himself forward and into the larger man’s arms.

“Hi, baby,” Tony coos, picking his Omega up and spinning them around, “you look so pretty, Pete. You all do, honestly. Such a pretty pack.”

“Thanks Beta,” Peter stretches up to give him a peck on the cheek, and then freezes.

“Peter? What—” Tony puts him down, and Annie watches as two figures approach them in the hallway.

She hears Clint growl behind her, and immediately her eyes turn to Peter. She can only see the side of his face, but his eyes are wide, pupils dilated, and he sucks in a quick breath.

“A— alpha,” he moans, swaying on his feet.

The larger man— Steve, probably— steps out of the shadow and pushes Tony to the side, looming over Peter and reaching to grab his neck.

There’s an echo of growls, one behind and one ahead, before Peter collapses to his knees.

“Fuck no!”

Clint reacts suddenly, pushing Annie behind him. He jumps forward and aims a blow towards Steve, who’s still looking down at Peter, eyes glowing red. Before the hit can land, both Tony and Bucky step forward, blocking the attack on their Alpha and tearing Clint away.

Tony grabs Peter, pulling him to his feet, and pushes him into Annie’s arms.

“Down the hall, to the right. Settle him in the living room and we’ll handle this, okay?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer before grabbing Clint and dragging him back outside, hopefully to calm down. Annie struggles to carry the larger Omega down the hall, and thankfully neither Steve nor Bucky are anywhere to be found.

When they finally reach the living room, she drops Peter in a large nesting chair towards the corner and searches for blankets. After finding a few, she wraps him in them and climbs into the nest, throwing the others over top of them to enclose the space.

“Petey?”

No response. Shit.

She moves them so he’s facing her fully, and tries to shake him awake. It seems like whatever happened actually knocked him out, and she checks his eyes, his breathing, before holding him close.

“Petey, you have to wake up for me.”

It’s hard not lacing her words with a dominant tone, but the direct order seems to reach him and Peter’s breath picks up.

“Open your eyes, sweetheart, c’mon.”

His eyes blink open wide and he looks around frantically.

“— Alpha?” he whimpers.

“No, Peter. It’s me. Tell me what you need, Pete.”

He focuses on her then, lips opening and closing before he’s able to speak, “Need’ta come up, Omega. Please.”

Annie strokes over his brow, “Okay, Pete. I’ve got you.”

She uses one hand to block his eyes and the other to peel back the blankets, looking around for someone to help, and sees Bucky in the kitchen.

“Bucky, help,” she whispers, hoping the other Omega can hear her across the room.

His head shoots up as he takes in the situation, and he swiftly walks over. He looks into her eyes, sees her hold on Peter, and drops to his knees next to the nest,

“What do you need, Omega?”

She has to stop herself from reaching out to touch him, and instead keeps her eyes on Peter, “Please tell me you have apples, bananas and carrots? Or crackers?”

“I do— do you want them sliced, Omega?”

“Yes, thank you,” she agrees, turning back to Peter as Bucky hurries back into the kitchen. She cradles his head, keeping one hand over his eyes to block them from the light, and lets him curl in closer to her as he floats.

“Sweet Omega,” she whispers, pulling him closer, “so good for me. So good, Peter.”

“Here,” Bucky says gently, and offers her a plate with slices of each food. He also hands her a bottle of water.

“Thanks, Bucky. Can you dim the lights? Maybe light candles if you have them?”

“Of course.”

He walks away to lower the lights, and Annie finally takes her hand off of Peter’s eyes. He blinks up at her, adorably confused, and gives her a small smile.

“Apple, Peter,” she says, pressing the apple slice up against his lips. He takes a small bite and she watches as he chews and swallows before offering another.

Once the apple is gone, she holds up the next fruit, “Banana.”

He takes the softer fruit in one bite, and Annie notices his eyes clearing up and he tightens his grip on her arm.

“Last one, Peter. Can you tell me what it is?”

“Carrot, Annie,” he says, smooth and steady, chewing the carrot slice while maintaining eye contact.

After he swallows, she hands him the bottle of water. He drinks it slowly, taking in the room and turns his gaze back to her.

“What— what happened?”

Bucky comes back over to them and looks to Annie for direction. She motions for him to join them in the nest, and they both move over as Bucky climbs in, pulling the other Omegas to nestle into his side.

“What do you remember, Peter?” Annie asks, reaching over to hold his hand on top of Bucky’s chest.

“I… I’m not sure. I remember being in Tony’s arms, and then— did I meet Steve? And someone attacked him? I don’t know Annie, I just remember floating and then coming back up.”

Bucky makes a pained noise, “Stevie reacted to Clint’s challenge, an’ his display caused you’ta drop.”

“Display, what—”

Annie sighs, “Basically, Clint saw you react to the new Alpha. His hindbrain registered that as a threat, and he growled— challenging Steve. I think Steve must have released some type of Alpha pheromones, because my mind went hazy too. After that, both of them were growling and you kneeled for him.”

“For— Steve?”

“Yeah, Pete. He pushed Tony away to get to you and Clint attacked him. That’s when Bucky and Tony took control and split everyone up. Nothing happened to you— to anyone, okay?”

Peter still looks devastated and pulls his hand away, sitting up in the nest, “I can’t believe. I just— submitted like that. I didn’t even do that with Tony, but with a random Alpha—”

“Peter, hey,” Bucky grabs his hand, trying to calm him down, “it’s instincts, darlin’. Steve is really dominant, and in this setting— with everyone on edge and feelin’ horny and stuff— honestly… I’m a little pissed we didn’t plan better. Especially after Clint came by earlier.”

Annie sits up then, drawing Peter closer to her to sit across Bucky’s lap, “He’s right, Pete, none of us have ever dealt with a Dominant Alpha meeting a Submissive Omega before. There’s no way we could have anticipated how Clint was gonna react.”

They sit for a few more minutes before Bucky stands up, “I’m gonna check on Tony and Clint— I think I have a plan for tonight.”

It’s a few more minutes that the two Omegas can sit in silence, eventually moving from the nesting chair over to the couch and preening each others’ hair and makeup. There’s a sound from down the main hallway, and a figure comes barreling towards them.

Annie throws her arm over Peter and yells, “Hey!” to get the person— Clint, it’s freaking Clint— to stop. He falls to his knees, only a foot or two away from them, and crawls the rest of the distance.

“Petey, I’m so sorry. Sweet Omega, I had no idea— I didn’t mean— I’m so so sorry, oh my god, I completely freaked out and ruined your night, please—”

“Beta, come here,” Peter opens up his arms, and Clint falls into them, clawing at Peter’s back and scenting him thoroughly, “it’s okay, C, I understand. I forgive you.”

Annie looks up to find Bucky and Tony standing, bewildered, in the entrance for the living room. She gestures towards the couch next to them, a clear invitation to take a seat, and Tony quickly moves to sit next to Peter and pull him into a hug after Clint releases him.

“So— Annie, Peter,” Bucky starts, shifting on his feet, “I have an idea, and our Betas have agreed to it.”

“What is it, Bucky?” Peter asks, surrounded now by both Tony and Clint, and looking beyond satisfied.

Bucky looks off, down the hallway behind the kitchen, “I think we should go to my nest. The— the three of us. Omegas, I mean. And meet Stevie there.”

“But… why?”

“It’s neutral,” Tony chimes in, “and Peter needs to meet Steve somewhere safe. Bucky’s the only one who can really bring the dumb Alpha out of his head— so the nest seems like the best idea. And a balance of chaperones that are all Omega should help ground everyone present. It’s a good idea.”

Annie stands up, crossing her arms, and looks at the two Betas, “You’re serious? You’re both completely okay with this, and anything that could happen in that room?”

Tony nods, but it’s really Clint’s reaction that she’s waiting for. The Beta also agrees, nodding slowly, “I told you I would try.”

Peter gets to his feet, wiping off his pants, and offers his hand to Annie. He then walks towards Bucky and offers a second hand, “Lead the way, Omega,” he says, grinning at them both.

Bucky gives a tug, and pulls them down the hallway. They pass the kitchen, a few other rooms that are all closed, and turn a corner. On the right side is a set of french doors with curtains— bedroom?— and the left—

“Holy shit.”

“Oh my god.”

Bucky steps away from them to gesture to his nest, the large fixture taking up the majority of the space in a room that could have otherwise been a large library. Or a sunroom.

Two of the walls are windows— they stretch from floor to ceiling and meet at the arched apex of the ceiling where a large, twinkling chandelier cascades down, filling the room with warm light and extending over the white canopy that dominates the center of the space. Twinkle lights surround and flow around the nest— dropping over and under the structure— and a few smaller lamps sit strategically both outside and inside.

The nest itself seems to be slightly elevated— giving the illusion of floating in the center of the room on a simple wooden palette. There are vines and ferns sprinkled around the base, and Annie can see the legs of at least one table that reach underneath the canopy. It’s a cloud. It’s a dream.

There’s definitely someone inside.

“Bucky, this is… amazing.” Annie is still frozen with Peter in a similar state beside her.

“C’mon,” Bucky finally reaches back and snaps his fingers, breaking them out of their trance. He grabs Peter first, kneeling up on the entrance to push back the curtain and let Peter in. Annie ducks down, following Peter through the opening.

Okay, the meeting in the hallway earlier did nothing to prepare her for the giant, hulking Alpha in Bucky’s nest. Even with his head down and neck exposed, Steve is a sight to behold, and by far the most dominant Alpha that Annie has been around in her entire life.

Strong hands grab her from behind, and Bucky settles both of them near the entrance to watch.

Steve has his eyes down still, throat exposed, as Peter inches forward. They all freeze as his scent changes to CuriousInnocentDistressedOmega, and finally Steve looks up.

The sound that comes from Peter is not quite a whimper. He turns his head to the side and makes it again.

An invitation.

Steve moves immediately and folds Peter into his arms. He makes a low reassuring noise, and Peter just melts, a high pitch chirp leaving his lips before his body goes limp. Steve has a tight hold on him, and turns their bodies to settle the tiny Omega underneath him. Almost in sync, they bare their throats and scent each other.

Annie scoots closer to Bucky, letting him wind his arms around her as she rests between his legs, against his chest. He stretches his legs out, and she turns slightly to add her legs to the tangle.

There’s a small sniffling noise, and both Omegas look up. Steve is still holding Peter close— but now they’re eye to eye, and Peter is crying. Annie immediately sits up to separate them, but Bucky holds her back, whispering for her to wait.

They watch as the Alpha and Omega cry together, sharing comfort and tears, as they continue to scent-mark each other.

“Is it uncomfortable to watch your Alpha connect with another Omega like this?” Annie whispers.

Bucky, still behind her, just draws aimless circles on her arm as he responds, “We talked ‘bout it. Doesn’t feel weird— just feels right, ya know?”

She nods, “It definitely looks right.”

And it does. Annie thinks about her mom and dad— how many times she’s envied their bond and the love that they share. Even then, they are a VersAlpha and VersOmega couple and they’ve never been able to build the pack that they want, even though their relationship has been full of love and their pack is strong.

With Steve and Peter… it feels like watching a King and his Queen. It feels like the ocean meeting the shore, like stars in the sky, like pen on paper. The perfect balance, opposites fated by biology, Alpha and Omega.

It feels right.

Annie is crying now, and notices it when Bucky reaches up to wipe one of her tears away. She leans into him, moving her hair and exposing her neck for him to scent. He intertwines their fingers around her waist and she can feel his nose, his mouth, pressed against her sensitive bonding glands.

In an uncharacteristically dominant move, Bucky lifts one of his own wrists for her to scent. She pulls it closer and sniffles at his pulse point, enjoying his warm Milk Chocolate and sweet Orange scent.

“Oranges and Strawberries,” he breathes, tickling her neck.

“Chocolate and Caramel,” she takes one more inhale before turning in his arms, letting the other Omega stare into her eyes.

She licks her lips, “I’ve missed your scent. I can’t believe how compatible… I mean, you know— how good—”

Bucky chuckles, playing with a piece of her hair, “I can’t believe how compatible we are either, darlin’.”

Damn, he’s sweet. Annie can feel her face heat up, but she’s helpless to look into his eyes, steel-blue and darkening by the second. He’s holding her so close, and he’s so warm. She closes her eyes, letting a quiet purr build from deep in her chest.

There’s a soft press on her lips, and she gasps, fluttering her eyes open to see Bucky pulling away from her face with a shy smile.

“Sorry, sorry, I thought—”

“— why’d you stop?” Annie asks, returning his smile.

This time she sits up, pushing into his space, and locks their lips together. His hands clutch tighter around her waist as he tilts her head back, deepening the kiss. His lips move slowly, sweetly, and she keens into the feeling, opening her mouth a little more, inviting him to take.

Instead, he slows the kisses down further, releasing her waist and brushing his fingers over her eyelids, her cheek, and she rests her hands on his chest. He pulls back after one last kiss, lips red and bruised, and a smile lights up his face. She hums her approval, sure her face looks similar, and moves one hand to brush back the hair off his forehead.

“Wow.”

The voice breaks the spell— Peter and Steve are staring at them, mouths agape. Annie pushes Bucky away and he laughs, trying to catch her around the waist before she can escape. Peter giggles, still so cute and tiny in Steve’s monster arms, and Steve can’t help but laugh along.

Okay, so maybe making out in the nest wasn’t a great idea.

She looks back at Bucky— head thrown back in laughter and eyes bright with joy— and honestly she doesn’t care. She feels her heart soften, almost literally, and pulls him in for one more kiss— ignoring the protests coming from the back of the nest. Bucky’s lips taste like heaven.

Once they break apart, Peter crawls over, nudging her to change places with him.

“Real quick, Annie. You haven’t even met him yet.”

“Okay, okay— pushy Omega.”

Peter immediately snuggles into Bucky’s arms, and the two turn to watch as Annie shuffles over to where Steve is still seated.

He gives her a hesitant smile, and offers his hand, “Hi Annie, I’m Steve.”

She looks down at the professional handshake he’s trying to give her and back up to him in disbelief. Boys are idiots. Shaking her head, she crawls the last few inches and sits squarely in his lap, offering her neck, “Hi Steve, I’m Annie,” and she guides his hand back around her waist and his nose into her throat.

There’s a moment where she can tell he takes over, and she lets herself relax in his strong grip. He nuzzles into her neck, scenting her deeply, and she slowly leans down to do the same.

Oh. Oh no.

“Oh, oh my god, Steve—” she mewls— yeah, fucking mewls— into his skin, and is horrified to feel his pulse under her tongue.

Annie, you are fucking licking this man. Get yourself together.

No. He tastes delicious.

And it’s true— Steve tastes like actual Summer Storms and strong, Espresso Lattes, and she cannot keep her mouth off of him.

The other two Omegas are chuckling from the other side of the nest, and she huffs in irritation, trying her absolute hardest to pull away from this Alpha’s body.

“S— sorry, fuck. I can’t believe. You’re just... you’re just so—” get it together, Annie.

“Hey,” Steve thrums, and she looks up into his deep, blue eyes, “I’m flattered— no harm done. For the record... I think you smell delicious, too,” and he winks at her, making a point to squeeze her tighter before they separate.

“Peeeete,” she whines, falling back to look at her packmate, “we’re marrying them, right?”

Peter giggles, “Seems like we might be.”

ProudSatisfiedContentAlpha absolutely saturates the nest, and all three Omegas turn to look, suddenly thirsty for Steve’s Coffee.

Bucky moves first, putting the smaller Omegas behind him and moving quickly to his Alpha. Annie watches as they share a quiet moment, before both men turn towards them with similar fond expressions.

“Sorry, uh— let's go see our Betas, okay?” Steve asks, ushering them back towards the entrance.

Annie and Peter stumble out of the nest, waiting to be led back to the living room. Bucky is careful to turn the lights out and straighten the nest, displaying the care and importance he obviously places in his home. Steve loops his arm around Bucky’s shoulders, pulling him in for a quick kiss, before giving him a playful shove to get them moving down the hallway.

It’s clear the Betas are laughing and enjoying each other’s company as they arrive, and Annie heads quickly to Clint’s side, ruffling his hair and accepting a kiss on the cheek. Steve sits in an unoccupied loveseat, but Bucky doesn’t go to join him. Instead, he and Peter exchange a few words and Bucky sits next to Tony, ducking under his arm.

The room is quiet— only a few whispers between Tony and Bucky— and Peter turns to settle onto Clint’s lap. Annie lets him go, watching as Peter scents— no, scent-marks— him thoroughly, rubbing the combined scent of Alpha and Omegas into his skin. Clint’s breathing picks up and he looks at Peter, confused.

“Omega, what—”

“Hush,” Peter grabs his face, whispering intensely, “you are going to ask that Alpha to scent you, and you’re gonna go sit on his lap. Don’t you dare come back to us until you smell like him, do you hear me?”

Clint looks properly chastised as Peter hops up off his lap, grabs Annie’s hand, and pulls them to sit with Bucky and Tony on the couch.

They watch Clint’s internal crisis as he walks over to Steve’s seat, obviously uncomfortable but oh so stubborn and determined.

He stops in front of Steve, who looks up in question, “Steve.”

“Clint.”

“I need… Can I— can I formally scent you?”

Steve actually looks shocked, “I… yeah, of course, Clint. Whatever you’d like.”

Clint looks back at them— Bucky flashing him two thumbs up— and steels himself, grabbing Steve’s shoulders before climbing onto his lap. Steve raises his hands, obviously not expecting the submissive posture, and looks to their couch for some direction.

Both Bucky and Tony give him a shrug. Helpful.

When Clint settles in, wiggling a few times, Steve bares his throat and lowers his eyes in submission. Every person in the room gasps, and Bucky might even let out a small, hysterical laugh.

Clint doesn’t say a thing. He leans in and gently presses his nose to Steve’s pulse point, audibly inhaling. His body visibly relaxes, and he pulls Steve in to scent him in return.

Annie settles back against Peter, letting the three men fold her into their embrace. The room feels light and heavy at the same time. All six packmates are relaxed— breathing in each others’ scents and eyes closed to the warmth of close bodies. The joy of shared kisses.

Behind her, there are soft sounds of kisses and whispered promises being exchanged. In front of her, her best friend and future Alpha are wrapped in an intimate embrace, crying and clutching at each others’ faces.

There’s a hand on her shoulder, and she turns to face Peter’s half-lidded, giddy expression,

“I love you so much, Annie.”

He leans down— kissing her head, her eyelids, and her nose— and holds her close as he presses a tender kiss onto her lips. Both of their eyes close, and they smile into each others’ mouths. Peter gives a small nip to her bottom lip as both of them break apart laughing.

They look up and see Steve and Clint, finally standing and making their way to the couch. Annie opens up her arms to catch Clint as he dives forward, and all of them groan as he gets comfortable in their arms.

Annie glances up, watching Steve. The Alpha looks so proud and happy— and even as Bucky and Tony start to whine about being hungry, it seems as though the only thing Steve wants is to make his pack happy.

And that’s something Annie can get on board with.