#on top of that I’ve been fighting the urge to just drop off of social media entirely recently anyways

[lesbiansanemi]

I’ve been spending less and less time on this stupid ass website recently and honestly….. good

[banannabethchase]

Steady Love - also on AO3

~

Adam, with Nick as his roommate, starts off his sophomore year of college with a crush, actual friends and a whole lot of shenanigans. He ends it with, somehow, more.

~

Welcome to my 300th fic on AO3! I decided to combine elements of my 1st, 100th, and 200th fic on AO3 to create this one, and thus, a college AU involving 5 of my all time favorite ships across 3 of my most special fandoms. I hope you enjoy this continuation of The Rumor of Us for those of us who remember me from back then, and the continuation of the Quintis College AU I briefly wrote. Title from Look After You by The Fray, one of my all time favorite romantic songs.

~

“Page!”

Adam turns to see Nick throwing the basketball at him. He catches it and dribbles around the other team’s defense, which isn’t that impressive knowing who the defense is, and shoots.

The ball bounces off the rim and toward Nick, who makes the save and a three pointer.

“Yes!” Nick yells, dropping to his knees with his fists in the air. “I’m the effing king of this!”

Adam walks over and shoves Nick to the side with his foot. “Lucky shot,” Adam says, grinning down at him.

“Was not!” Nick scrambles to his feet. “I’ve been practicing my three pointers all summer.” He nudges Adam in the shoulder. “Anyway, we’re basically out of time for the gym. We only booked an hour.”

Adam checks the time on his phone. “Damn it,” he mutters.

“Are we done or something?” Toby asks. “Please say we’re done.”

“Wimp,” Happy says, grinning. “You don’t have to play next time, you know. I think I’d do better if you weren’t on my team”

“I do have to play!” Toby says, scrambling after Happy as she steps toward her bag on the side of the court. Adam’s kind of baffled he missed the insult entirely. “I have to make sure you don’t get yourself killed.”

“Toby, let’s be real here,” Happy says. “The only reason I play basketball is because you made me socialize with people other than you and the rest of the Cyclone, and you decided your roommate’s weird brother was the right call. You’re just mad I’m doing better with these friends than you are.”

Toby pouts. “Hey!”

“And I am not the weird one here,” Nick says.

“Bye, y’all,” Happy says, grinning over her shoulder. “C’mon, Curtis, to the showers.”

Adam rolls his eyes as Toby’s pout turns into unshielded excitement. They scamper away.

“They’re really weird,” Adam muses, dribbling the ball absently. “I like them.”

“Right?” Nick says. “Toby’s a TA, but he’s our age. He skipped a bunch of grades.”

“That explains some of the,” Adam shoots the ball and misses, pausing to find the right words, “socially awkward moments.”

“No kidding,” Nick says. He chases after the ball and chucks it back at Adam, who manages to make the three pointer this time. “There you go, dude. I knew you could do it.”

“It’s because he’s tall.”

Adam turns at a voice that makes his entire body light up. “Matt!” he says, trying to hold back before getting too weird. “Hi.”

Nick glances over at his brother. “What the eff are you doing here?” he asks, bouncing the ball. Adam fights the urge to tell him to shut up.

“You always make fun of me for not being able to play,” Matt says. He looks incredible; Adam’s never seen him in basketball shorts and a tank top. “So I figured I’d come and learn from the self-proclaimed best this year.”

Nick rolls his eyes. “You have awful timing. We only rented the court until five.”

Matt shrugs. “So, like, rent another hour?”

“That’s not how it works.” Nick belts Matt with the basketball, and Adam is impressed that Matt at least can catch it. He doesn’t dribble though. He just holds it in his hands. “Somebody else will have rented it out.”

“We could ask to share,” Matt says. With a quick flick of his eyes, he chucks the ball in Adam’s direction. Adam has to jump a little, feeling his shirt fly up as he does do, but he manages to catch the ball.

“You can’t – Matt, go away.”

“No!” Adam says. Matt and Nick look at him. “I mean, we could go to the outdoor hoops, right?”

“It’s ninety seven degrees outside,” Nick deadpans. “Let’s just go do something else.”

“Can I shower first?” Adam asks, wrinkling his nose. “I’m all gross.”

“I’m sure you’re fine,” Matt says, waving him off. “Dining hall should be serving dinner by now.”

“It’s five o’clock,” Nick says. “We – really?”

Matt shrugs. “I’m hungry.”

“Me, too,” Adam adds.

Nick sighs. “Whatever. Fine. Dinner.”

“I hope they have the pasta bar this time,” Matt says. And Adam knows, in that moment, with that smile Matt throws him, he’s doomed.

Matt flounces off to the pasta bar, almost skipping.

“Dude,” Nick says, elbowing Adam. “What is your deal?”

“Deal?” Adam asks, trying to keep himself from blushing. “There’s no deal. I’m – why?”

Nick stares at him. “You’ve hung out with Matt before and never been this twitchy.” He study’s Adam’s face. “Do you have a crush on my brother?”

“No.”

Nick’s expression goes from curious to annoyed. “You have a crush on my brother,” he says, definitively. “Oh, my god.”

“I – don’t!” Adam says. “And shush.”

“If you don’t have a crush on him, then I can say it as loud as I want.”

“No!” Adam says. “Damn it. Just – don’t tell him.”

“Are you gonna tell him?” Nick asks.

Adam presses his lips together and shrugs. “Maybe? I don’t know. I don’t…yeah.”

Nick sighs so deeply his shoulders slump. “If you make him cry, I have to kill you, you know that, right?”

“What?” Adam asks. “I’m your roommate!”

“Roommate and friend always comes second to brother,” Nick says, shrugging. “It’s biological. I am genetically wired to care about that dumbass.”

They look over, where Matt is very possibly flirting with the cook making the pasta, from the way he’s smiling and leaning against the counter. Adam can’t decide if he’s jealous or distracted by how good Matt’s butt looks in his shorts.

“Believe me,” Nick says, grabbing a slice of pizza, “I am the most annoyed about it.”

They grab some extra fruit and vegetables, because Adam’s mom’s voice is always in his head, and they find a small table near the hydroponics station.

“You ever get tempted to, like, grab a leaf of lettuce off of there and eat it?” Nick asks, shoving half the slice of pizza in his mouth.

Adam blinks. “No, but I am sort of fascinated at your impulse to eat public leaves.”

“They’re not public leaves!” Nick scoffs. “It’s lettuce grown by the college, and I pay tuition, so they are my leaves.”

Adam nearly stops breathing when Matt sits down next to him, like he doesn’t care Adam’s covered in sweat and his hair is a wreck. His heart is racing as Matt flashes him a smile.

“The pasta guy is really nice,” Matt says, mixing what appears to be something with vegetables and pesto. He shoves a giant forkful in his mouth and makes a face so pleased Adam has to turn away and take an unreasonably huge bite of pizza. “And he gave me extra pesto.”

“Yeah, because you were flirting with him,” Nick says, rolling his eyes. “God, you’re worse than Piper at that one party.”

“Am not!” Matt argues.

“The one when she stole all that toilet paper last year?” Adam asks, once he’s swallowed the pizza. “That was hilarious.”

“I was not flirting with him,” Matt says, and Adam doesn’t miss the way he flicks his eyes toward him. “Shut up. Eat your pizza, Nick.”

“Don’t tell me what to do!”

Adam snickers as the two of them bicker back and forth, finishing most of his plate before they get under control. Matt’s got his lower lip stuck out, Nick’s glaring, and Adam, mostly, is entertained.

“Are you two done?” he asks, because he wants to know what happens next.

~

By the start of September, Matt’s been to every single basketball court hour that they’ve had, and Adam is…technically handling it. The amount of times Matt has pulled off his shirt mid-game and Adam either missed a pass or immediately fell over is in the double digits.

He’s regaling his friends in class with the most recent story of Matt making a moaning noise during stretching when Annabeth and Piper both begin laughing at him mid-lecture, which feels excessive.

“Oh you legit like him,” Piper says, with a sharkish grin. “Pro tip? Act on it now. Otherwise you’re fucked like me and Reyna for the first semester of school.”

“Based on what I’ve heard before I’ve knocked,” Annabeth says, flipping to the right page in her notes, “nobody fucks like the two of you, but okay.”

Adam laughs as Piper rolls her eyes and slumps into her seat. “You all suck,” she grumbles.

They pass notes and tease each other through the lecture, which Adam would feel bad about but he scored a 95% on the first anthropology test and was only outscored by Annabeth, so he figures he’s fine.

Annabeth pokes him in the ribs when he snickers at a sex joke Piper makes.

“They’re going to hear you,” Annabeth says, scrolling her phone with one hand and taking notes with the other. “He’s not even using a mic now. And I really don’t want to get yelled at.”

“You’re on your phone looking up – oh, my god.” Adam leans back. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t see you putting lingerie in your cart.”

Annabeth smirks and shrugs. “Don’t look at my phone screen next time.”

By the time class is over, Adam knows he’ll be begging Annabeth for a copy of her notes, but he’s in good spirits to go for their basketball time.

“I gotta go,” he says, smiling at the two of them. “Basketball hour, you know.”

Piper immediately starts making kissy faces.

“It’s just basketball!” Adam says, suddenly wishing his hair was down to cover his likely pink ears. “He needs help with it.”

“You know what he needs?” Piper says, grinning.

“Don’t say it,” Annabeth says. “It’s a cheap joke.”

“He needs your dick.”

Annabeth and Adam sigh in tandem while Piper cackles.

“One of these days I’m going to tell on you to Reyna,” Annabeth grumbles.

“About what?”

“Bad sex jokes,” Adam offers. “Making fun of me.”

Piper scoffs. “She likes it when I do that. Reyna loves my stupid jokes.”

“Yeah, if you guys do go abroad,” Annabeth asks, adjusting her backpack on her shoulder, “you’ll have to learn a whole new language to make sex jokes in.”

Piper wrinkles her nose. “Reyna really wants to, but I’m not sure. She’s looking at France.”

“I’m sure there’s sex jokes in French,” Adam says, shoving his books in his backpacks. “Or you could just say ‘oui oui’ all the time and look like a dork.”

“Coming from you, that’s great.” Piper hits him on the arm with her notebook, grinning. “Go play homoerotic sports with your future boyfriend.”

~

The first set of tests by the second week of September hit, and Adam realizes he has a little collection of friends that makes him feel cozy, but a bit confused. He’s not exactly sure when his and Nick’s dorm room became the place where everybody hangs out, but he keeps trying to hide things like his teddy bear and his dirty clothes while Kenny and Piper try to kill each other in Street Fighter.

What’s even more difficult to manage, though, is Matt, sitting right next to him. On his bed. While Nick keeps glancing at him. Adam thinks that’s silly, because Happy and Toby are quite literally making out on top of his desk.

“Where’s Annabeth?” Reyna asks, yawning. “She and I have that Chem lab in the morning and I really want to go over our methodology.”

“Lame,” Piper says, twisting the controller and immediately killing Kenny’s character. Adam thinks that’s impressive, based on Kenny’s shriek of horror. “She and Percy are out on a date. She’ll be back soon.”

Reyna sighs. “She forgot to tell me. Jerk.”

“That’s because I was supposed to tell you, and I forgot, because I’m beating this wimp’s ass at every video game possible,” Piper says. She claps Kenny on the shoulder. “Actually, victory makes me horny. Reyna?”

Reyna snorts, but she jumps to her feet. “Why did I expect anything else?”

Piper throws a grin over her shoulder, short blue hair flying everywhere. “Later, nerds.”

Kenny’s still staring at the screen, open mouthed and miserable. “She beat me,” he says, horrified. He turns to Nick. “Why’d you – I brought my console here just so she could beat me?!”

“Piper’s weird, man,” Happy says, shrugging as she pulls away from Toby. Toby still looks super dazed. “Blame Adam. He’s the one who became best friends with her first or whatever.”

“Hey!” Adam says. He’s still trying to deal with the fact that Matt is pressed up against him. “She’s your friend, too.”

“That is beside the point,” Nick says, sliding to the floor. “Scoot over, Kenny. You can beat me.”

“It’s not the same if you let me beat you,” Kenny grumbles. “But, since you suck, I’d beat you anyway.” He hands Nick the controller.

“Hey, Hap?” Toby says, playing with the edge of her tee shirt. Adam rolls his eyes, meeting Matt’s in a knowing grin.

“What?”

“Your roommate’s out, right?”

She snickers. “God, you’re predictable.” She waves at them. “Later, everybody.”

The room is quieter, less intense now that it’s only the four of them, and Adam can feel Matt relax into his side. Nick and Kenny are fervently battling each other. Adam feels like this is a good moment. For what, he’s not sure.

“So,” Adam says, picking at a frayed end on the hem of his shirt. “How’re classes going for you?”

“Great!” Matt says, sending that megawatt smile in Adam’s direction. “Well. Pretty good, at least.”

“Only pretty good?” Adam asks.

“Yeah, math is kicking my butt,” Matt says, sighing. “I’m an ed major, so I have to take a class on how to teach math, which would probably be fine if I could memorize all the stupid vocabulary words.”

“I, um. I can tutor you, if you want.”

Matt turns to him. “You can?”

Adam nods. “I had a whole business in high school about it, but you’re my friend so I wouldn’t charge.” He smiles. “That sound good?”

Matt nods so hard his ponytail slips out. “Yeah!”

Adam leans behind.

“What are you doing?” Matt asks. He’s still smiling, though, so Adam thinks he’s in the clear.

“Oh,” Adam says, picking up the hair tie. “This fell out when you were nodding.”

Matt flushes the cutest pink Adam’s ever seen. “Thanks,” he says. Adam watches, probably too closely, as Matt ties his hair back up.

“So, um, how about tomorrow morning?” Adam asks. When he rests his hand on the bed next to Matt’s, the dip of the mattress makes his hand slide on top of Matt’s. Neither of them move. “For tutoring, I mean.”

Matt nods. “Yeah. That sounds good.”

Nick flicks his gaze over at Matt and Adam, frowns, and opens his mouth. But Kenny’s screaming in victory before he can say anything.

“Oh, that’s how it goes, baby!” Kenny yells. “Victory doesn’t make me horny, but it does make me hungry. Anybody want to go pick up pizza?”

They do. They get pizza and sodas and bring them back to the dorm room. Kenny and Nick hang in Nick’s bed while Matt’s with Adam on his.

Adam feels like he may just combust.

They put on Five Nights at Freddy’s, which Kenny insists will be good because of the game it’s based on, but Adam’s a little hesitant.

“They’re giant toys, Kenny,” Adam says. “How could they possibly be scary?”

An hour later, Adam is more than pleased that it’s actually scary, because Matt’s buried his face into Adam’s chest and is halfway in his lap. He exchanges a glance with Nick. And gets a smile back.

Kenny and Matt sleep over. And Adam thinks this might be what college is supposed to feel like.

~

Matt and Kenny leave after they get breakfast in the morning, but Matt reminds Adam of their tutoring date before he leaves.

“I’ll stop by around one?” Matt asks. “You know. Since we slept in.”

Adam nods. “Yeah, I gotta shower.”

Matt makes an interesting face, pressing his lips together. “Okay.”

Nick grabs his arm and yanks. “Dude!”

“What?!”

“You are in love with my brother.”

“Am not!”

Nick yanks harder.

“Ow!”

“You like him,” Nick says. “You like Matt. I know how weird you are about your bed, and you let him sleep on your pillow.”

Adam frowns. “I’m not weird about my bed.”

“You have to remake it every time you sit on it funny and you change the pillow case every time somebody touches it.”

Adam stops in his tracks and turns to Nick. “You noticed that?”

“Of course I did,” says Nick. “You’re my friend. It’s why I tell people, usually, to stay off your side of the room and not to touch your folders on your desk. But Matt walked in there and sat down, and you didn’t even react.”

Adam opens his mouth, but then steps forward and grabs Nick in a tight hug. “Nobody’s ever noticed that and been nice about it before,” he says, words muffled by Nick’s shoulder.

“Course, man,” Nick says, patting him on the back. “You’re my best friend.”

Adam won’t let himself cry. “I am?”

Nick nods, like it’s the easiest thing to say, to believe. “You are.”

Adam exhales. “Even though I have a crush on your brother?”

“I knew it!”

Adam laughs and runs back to their dorm with Nick chasing him, feeling at home with a group of people for the first time ever.

~

Around 1:05, Nick’s left for reasons he won’t tell Adam, and he’s got the room to himself. Matt’s not technically late, he guesses, since he’d said around one. But the possible anxiety of being stood up triggers his need to clean and organize. He’s in the middle of putting away his last few books into his mini bookshelf when there’s a knock.

He stands and opens the door to see Matt, hair in a neat little half ponytail, smiling at him.

“How’d you get in?” Adam asks. “Um. I mean. Hi.”

Matt, miraculously, laughs. “The RA here knows me,” he says. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah, definitely.” Adam moves so Matt can step by him, and his heart has never beat faster. Matt sits gently on the bed. There’s nothing in Adam that wants to move him or clean the sheets. It’s strange.

“I brought my homework,” Matt says, swinging his backpack to the floor. He pulls out a notebook and sets it on his lap, unopened.

Adam makes his way over to the bed and sits on his desk chair so he has a little extra space to set up on his bed. He shoves his glasses up his nose and forces himself not to look at Matt. “Um, so,” he says, clearing his throat. “Your class is kind of different than math that I take, since it’s learning how to teach math from it’s foundation. What are you stuck on?”

Matt blinks at him. “You know I don’t actually need help with math, right?”

Adam blinks and turns to Matt. “What?”

Matt’s smile is far too intriguing. “God, you’re cute.” Adam can hear his heart pound in his ears. “You – you’re smart, yeah, and I’m sure you could help me with everything. But I know the differences between subtrahends and addends and all that.” His eyes are too pretty under all those eyelashes. “I guess I wasn’t clear enough, but this was a ruse to hang out with you more.”

Adam’s mouth falls open as he looks at Matt, trying to process what all of it means. “You – hang out with me?”

“Without Nick, I mean,” Matt explains. “He always wants to tag along.” He turns to Adam. “This way we could have some time just us.”

“Just us?” Adam doesn’t know why he can only repeat the last thing Matt said. But Matt doesn’t seem fazed.

Matt nods, smiling. “I figured, after last night, you might like me too.”

Adam reaches out and rests a hand on Matt’s arm, trying to prove this is real and not a dream. Matt leans in and kisses Adam before he can process what’s about to happen. Matt’s lips are soft and warm against Adam’s, more than a dream. Adam almost falls over with how perfect it is. When Matt pulls back, his heart is racing and he can’t stop looking at Matt.

“Was that okay?” Matt asks. “I, like, have been trying not to want to kiss you for a really long time, and I almost did last night but Nick was there, and then you touched my arm and everything, so I figured –”

As much as Adam loves hearing Matt talk, he thinks he’s rambling and would appreciate being helped to quiet down. So Adam leans in and kisses Matt again, getting a cute little squeak of interest before he throws his arms around Adam’s neck. Adam breathes into it, leaning into Matt. He doesn’t know when he throws his arms around Matt’s waist, when he drags Matt into his lap, when Matt starts leaning into him, just that it’s happening.

Something about their combined weight is too much for the chair and it slides backward, the two of them falling to the floor. Matt giggles.

“Oops.”

“I think you broke my office chair,” Adam says, grinning up at Matt. “You are the worst person I’ve ever tutored, I think.”

“Am not!” says Matt, and Adam tries not to feel miserable at the lack of contact anymore. “Plus, it’s been, like, fifteen minutes, and it was a ruse I kissed you in the middle of, so that gives me bonus points.”

“I was going to tutor you the whole time,” Adam argues, and he adjusts his chair back up. It should be okay. “I just also wanted to kiss you.” He shrugs, leaning against his desk as Matt makes himself at home on his bed. “I was sort of worried the tutoring thing meant you didn’t think of me the same way.”

“Well, that’s just not true.” Matt stretches out in his bed, arms behind his head. Adam’s pretty sure he’ll have this image burned into his memory for the rest of his life. “I only started coming to basketball because Nick told me you were there.”

“So we have Nick to thank for this,” Adam says, grinning. He sits down on the bed, most of his weight still on his feet as he tries not to overstep Matt’s boundaries. “Good to know.”

“Adam?”

“Yeah?”

Matt’s grin goes a little devious. “If you want to come snuggle right now, it’s your bed. Or I can move. But you don’t have to sit so awkwardly in your own dorm room.”

Adam opens his mouth. “I – I’m not awkward.”

“You’re a little awkward, but it’s what I like about you.” Matt’s eyes are pretty and big, his smile honest. He scoots over and pats the side of the bed. “Come on. Forget math. Come snuggle.”

Adam carefully lowers himself into his bed next to Matt. They’re above the blankets, it’s the middle of the day, and Nick will probably be back from the gym any time now. It won’t go farther than either of them want.

When he settles, Matt turns over and cuddles into him. Adam automatically wraps his arm around Matt’s back and finally relaxes into the moment. “Hi,” he murmurs.

“Hi,” Matt says.

“Your hair smells nice.”

“Your sheets smell nice,” Matt says. It’s a sweet sentiment, but Matt’s face is shoved into Adam’s chest so he’s not sure how much of that sentence is real.

Adam doesn’t even know how to react. He’s spent weeks trying to get this moment to be anything near possible, and now it’s here in front of him. And he’s got no fucking idea what to do.

“Are you okay?” Matt asks. He scoots over, sitting up. “I’m going too intense, aren’t I.” Adam watches Matt curl up on himself. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re not too intense!” Adam blurts out. Matt tilts his head to the side. “I’m just sort of freaking out a little bit. Not because of you. Because I’m…me.”

“Because you’re you?” Matt asks, and he scoots back over to Adam. “That’s why I’m here. Because you’re you.”

Adam turns around, finding himself nose to nose with Matt. “I like you because you’re you, too.”

Matt tilts his face and they kiss again, soft, gentle, and intentional. Adam feels warm and cozy. He lets himself reach up and rest his hand on Matt’s waist. Matt scoots closer to Adam and sighs, sending a thrill of exhilaration through Adam’s body. He angles his hips away, because he isn’t willing to screw this whole thing up, and keeps the kisses under control.

He doesn’t know how long it is, only that he wants this to last forever, with Matt curled up in his arms, his little giggles, their brief breaks to talk.

“So, does this mean we’re boyfriends?” Matt asks, red faced and hair mussed after a particularly enthusiastic make out. “Just to clarify.”

“I – I hope so,” Adam says, and he feels his face heat up. “I’d like to, I mean.”

“Good,” Matt says. “Then we’re boyfriends.” He leans in and kisses Adam again, and it feels like they could do this forever.

Forever in a college dorm is impossible, though, and the door swings open.

“Have you talked to Matt? He’s not answering my texts.”

Matt and Adam separate, and Adam freezes. “Um.”

Nick breaks into a giant grin. “Oh, damn,” he says. “I knew it. I knew it. Matt, you’re as subtle as a freight train.”

“Shut up, Nick,” Matt says, but he pulls Adams arm more tightly around him. “Let me have some time with my new boyfriend.”

~

They come back from Thanksgiving break to a chill that only seems to be fixed by holding Matt’s hand in his. He’d missed Matt more than he realized possible in that week, and the way Matt had thrown himself into his arms when they saw each other that first Sunday afternoon they were back was more than he could imagine.

“Come on,” Matt says, pulling away. “Nick’s doing, I don’t know. Something to do with class, probably. Let’s go get lunch.”

“Diner?” Adam asks, taking Matt’s hand. “I tutored over the break so I have extra money.”

“Ooh, are you going to take me on a fancy date to the local greasy spoon?” Matt giggles.

“We can get really fancy and buy the real maple syrup when you drown your pancakes.” Adam pulls Matt in and kisses his forehead.

They sit at one of the shiny vinyl booths for two, and Happy comes over.

“You’re a waitress here?” Adam asks. “Since when?”

Happy blows her hair out of her face. “Since I realized my bike needs repairs I can’t afford, and I wasn’t willing to wait until summer.” She clicks her pen. “Alright, dorks. What do you want?”

Adam and Matt order pancakes and hashbrowns and all other things that will make the chill outside feel a little more tolerable. Matt sips his hot chocolate with a smile on his face.

“What?” Adam asks.

Matt shrugs. “I missed you.”

Matt’s in the middle of a story about how Nick got his hand stuck in the turkey when his mostly empty mug of hot chocolate flies to the ground and shatters.

“Oops,” Matt says, eyes widening. “Uh. Do you see Happy?”

Happy whirls around the corner. “What the hell was that?!”

“Hi, Happy,” Adam mutters, sheepish under her furious gaze. “We, um. Broke a mug.”

She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, no shit,” she mutters. “Wait, pretend I didn’t say that. I’ll go get a mop, but go check in with the front to see if they have anything to clean up the mug.” She frowns at it. “I don’t think I’m allowed to tell you idiots to pick it up on your own, even though it was your fault to begin with.”

“Yeah, I’ll go check,” Adam says. “You can stay here, Matt. Keep your sneakers clean.” He grins a Matt.

“No, I’m coming with,” Matt says. “It’s my mug, after all. I should let them know I dropped it.”

They make their way to the front space of the diner with barstools and a window into the kitchen where…where Adam…sees…

Adam’s mouth drops open, and he barely has the sense to throw out an arm to keep Matt from stomping through the door to the kitchen, but it’s no use.

“I’m sorry,” Matt says, and Adam should probably not be turned on by how bitchy Matt sounds, “since when have you been banging Mox?”

Nick sighs and adjusts his shirt and hair. “Since, like, the beginning of the semester. Took you long enough to figure it out.” Adam thinks back to the semester – other than when it was time to sleep or play basketball, Nick was pretty gone. He’d put it up to hanging out with Reyna or Happy or something, but nope. “How do you know Mox, by the way?”

“Not important.” Matt says, leaning against the wall and folding his arms over his chest. “By the way, Mox is short for…?”

“Moxley,” the guy says, and his voice is sand and smoke in one. “Jon Moxley. You his big brother or something?” He sticks out his hand. “Shake it. I’m a cook, not a monster. My hands are clean.”

Matt throws a hesitant look at Adam, who shrugs, then shakes Mox’s hand. “Hi,” Matt says, still with a little frown on his face. “Are you – what are your intentions with my brother?”

“Jesus Christ,” Nick mutters, dropping his head into his hand.

Adam watches as Mox’s grin goes a little…weird. “You really wanna know?” Mox asks.

“I – no,” Matt says, blushing furiously. He grabs Adam’s hand. “We, um. If you hurt him, I’ll kill you. Just for the record.”

“Sure you will, sweetheart.” Mox winks at Matt.

“Hey!” Adam says. “Be less weird about my boyfriend.”

“You sure about that?” Mox asks. He’s weirdly confident, almost too casual, as he leans against the stove. Adam secretly hopes it’s on. “Anyway, I’m supposed to be cooking, so it’d be great if all of you left my place of work.” He smacks Nick on the ass. “Except for you, baby. You can stay as long as you want.”

Nick nods. “Yeah, goodbye, roommate and brother. I have someone – something – things to do.”

“I should have known you were out getting laid when you were late to our study parties,” Adam says, but he can’t make himself be mad about it. He grabs Matt by the bicep and turns, leading him back to their seat.

Matt fumes silently as he picks up the shards of mug without any hand protection.

“The hell are you doing?” Happy asks. “I told you to ask the front to take care of that.”

“Your cook is making out with my brother, so he appeared otherwise occupied,” Matt says, glaring down at the puddle.

Happy snorts. “Oh, you didn’t know? Oops.”

“You knew?!”

“Only so many times you can hear weird noises from the kitchen before investigating,” Happy says, mopping up the puddle. It’s mercifully small. “Plus, me and Toby tried to hook up in the supply closet and the two of them were in there last week.”

“And when did that start?”

“Me and Toby?” Happy asks. “Like, last year.”

“No!” Matt says, throwing his hands in the air. “The Nick and Mox!”

Happy pauses mopping. “Don’t know. Don’t really pay attention to things like that. Mostly I’m focusing on how to make people tip me more. Toby’s been teaching me psychology tricks.”

“I can guarantee,” Adam says, “telling people about your tip related psychology tricks is not a way to get them to tip you more. I’ll tip you, like, 25%, but that’s because you’re my friend.”

Happy grins. “Then it worked!”

Adam avoids the urge to tell her it didn’t work the way she’d intended, but he does leave the big tip.

As they walk back into the windy chill of the day, Matt ramps himself up again.

“I can’t believe Nick is – is sleeping with the diner guy!” Matt says, immediately going red. “I – this isn’t – why?!”

“Is this a classist thing?” Adam asks, walking down the street back to his dorm. At the very least, he knows it’ll be empty for a while. “Are you mad your brother for sleeping with a townie?”

“No!” Matt says, and his hair is getting in on the drama, too. “I – that’s – not it.”

Adam studies Matt’s face for a few minutes. “Oh,” he says grinning. “You’re mad because you had a crush on Mox first.”

“I – did not!” Matt says, but he won’t meet Adam’s eyes.

Adam flashes his ID at the desk attendant as Matt stomps ahead of him. “You did,” Adam says. “Oh, this would be so funny if you weren’t dating me.”

Matt gets to Adam’s door and gestures to it angrily. “Open the door.”

“Why?” Adam asks. “So you can tell me how bad you want Mox to fuck you?”

Matt whines and stomps his foot. “No, because I want you to eff me, okay?”

Adam pauses, key halfway twisted in the lock. “Come again?”

“I – I liked Mox, a while ago,” Matt says. “Okay? I did. I thought – shut up.” Adam turns away and keeps opening the door and decides not to mention he hasn’t actually said anything. He pushes it open. “You’re not allowed to talk right now. Let me explain.”

Matt shoves past him and throws himself on Adam’s bed. “Before Nick went here, Mox and I flirted a few times at the diner when I was a freshman and all, so, yeah. I kind of liked him. But then I met you at the beginning of this year, and now I like you.”

At least, that’s what Adam heard. Matt’s face is shoved into Adam’s pillow so he can’t be certain.

“I know you like me,” Adam says, sitting on the bed next to Matt. It’s strangely reminiscent of the night they kissed the first time. “I was just teasing.”

Matt rolls over. “That’s the thing, though,” he says. “I don’t just like you.” He presses his lips together, and Adam thinks he can hear his heart racing.

Adam leans in and kisses Matt without pausing to think about it, laying across Matt’s body. He – he can feel that Matt’s hard against him, and his entire body electrifies with it.

“You know what I’m saying, right?” Matt asks, pulling back and tucking rogue curls behind Adam’s ear. “I love you.”

Adam nods, head spinning with all of it. “I – I love you too,” he manages to say. He didn’t know he did, not yet, but now, with Matt under him, with everything.

He’s sure.

Their clothes disappear in favor of roaming hands and lips. Adam doesn’t know what’s going to happen next, but he knows he’ll say yes to anything Matt asks of him.

“Are you,” Matt asks, lips parted and eyes bright underneath Adam. “I mean, I want to – do you want to?”

Adam brushes Matt’s hair away from his face, suddenly so glad Nick is busy. “Yes,” he breathes. “Yes, anything, with you. I want to. But, um. I’ve never – I mean, I’ve, like, kissed. Obviously. And- well, it depends – what do you want to do?”

Matt smiles. “Am I gonna be one of your first times?” He reaches up and plays with Adam’s hair where it’s fallen out of the ponytail.

“First time,” Adam whispers. “When it mattered.”

Matt’s eyes widen. “Oh,” he says. “Oh, okay. If you want to slow down, we slow down.” He reaches up again and cups Adam’s cheek, and it’s so sweet that Adam almost loses it right then and there.

“Do you want to slow down?” Adam asks.

Matt shakes his head. “Not even a little bit. But if you want to slow – ”

“No,” Adam says. “I want – I want you.”

Matt exhales, eyes deadly serious on Adam’s face. “Okay,” he says quietly. “I’m all yours.”

Matt is immeasurable kind and gentle, talking it out with Adam, explaining what to do, all while their hands are lined and Adam kisses along Matt’s body.

“You – you’re incredible,” Adam mutters. Matt throws an arm around Adam’s neck. “You know that?”

“You’re not so bad yourself,” Matt says. “I – oh, okay. You’re doing so good at this.”

Adam feels himself turn pink. “I am?”

“So good,” Matt says. “And I’m ready, if you are.” He looks a little smug. “If you have what we need, that is.”

Adam flashes back to the beginning of the semester, when he, Toby, and Piper had found themselves at Walmart.

“I, um. I do.”

Matt’s face lights up with excitement. “You do?”

Adam nods. “Piper told me and Toby we were too – I think she said vanilla?” He feels his face burn pink. “She made us get a bunch of lube. Condoms.” He forces out the last word. “There’s a couple vibrators in there, too.”

Matt giggles. “Yeah?”

He nods. “She’s very persuasive, Piper.”

Matt stands and walks over to his desk. “In here?”

Adam presses his lips together and nods. “Yeah.

“Can I open it?” Matt asks quietly. “I know you don’t like people in your stuff.”

“You’re not just people,” Adam says. “Go ahead.”

Matt takes out the lube and some condoms, wordlessly looking to Adam, who nods. Matt’s always got a way of getting Adam’s heart racing like this.

“I’m ready if you want to,” Matt says quietly, coming over to the bed. He sits down on the bed, eyes on Adam’s.

Adam has to steady his breathing. “You are?” It feels too soon, or too fast, for Matt. He doesn’t want to over do it, but Matt seems confident.

“I just – tell me what you want,” Matt says. “I want to make sure you know, so I know, and so we, like, understand each other.”

Adam laughs as he slots himself in between Matt’s legs. “I want to fuck you, you idiot.”

Matt beams at him. “Okay. Yeah, perfect.”

Adam’s never felt like this before, when he and Matt connect. There are fumbling fingers and limbs, some laughter, pauses to kiss. His entire mind is consumed with how Matt looks and feels, how he tastes when they kiss, how he sounds when Adam tries a different move with his hips.

He’s watched a lot of movies. He’s read a lot of books. But none of the words spoken or written are enough to explain how this moment consumes him.

Matt’s little encouragements, praise, gentle touches, anchor him to the moment. Without them, he thinks he’d float away somewhere else.

“Matt,” he warns. “I – I think I’m…”

“That’s okay,” Matt says. “I, um, I can take care of myself after.”

“Definitely not,” Adam says. “I’ll take care of you as long as you want.”

Matt makes an interesting, irresistible little whine, and Adam can’t hold it back anymore. His mind and body coalesce into spinning, whirling bliss with Matt’s name on his lips, and he gives himself a few seconds to breathe. It feels real, overwhelmingly so, and he has to lean down to kiss Matt.

“Hold on,” he whispers against Matt’s lips. “I – give me, like, three seconds.”

“Take your time,” Matt says, beaming up at Adam, and god isn’t that a sight he wants to see every day.

Adam ties off the condom and chucks it in the trash can, then comes back to Matt. “So, um, I’ve never – like jokes with popsicles and whatever –”

“I promise,” Matt says, “whatever you do will be amazing.”

Adam ducks down and tries his best to get this right. He will admit it’s messy, but Matt’s got a hand in his hair and is squirming, which makes him think he’s doing okay.

“Adam,” Matt whimpers, “you’re – oh my god – you’re really good at this.” He whines and twitches his hips. Automatically, Adam throws an arm across Matt’s hips to still him.

“You have no idea how hot this is,” Matt pants. “I’m gonna – Adam, I’m about to –”

He has a decision to make. Adam picks up the pace and grins when Matt cries his name with a hand resting on the back of his head. It’s not exactly what he expected, a little startling, but it’s worth it to hear Matt breathless and giggling farther up on the bed.

“You’re glowing,” Matt says, smoothing his hand over Adam’s hair. “Like, you usually have a sunshiney thing going with the long blond hair, but you’re really glowy right now.”

Adam ducks his head, the intensity of the eye contact almost too much. “I am?”

“Yes.”

Adam lifts his head to see Matt with an angelic smile on his face. “You are, too.”

They kiss and hold each other, and Adam decides this might be his favorite moment of his life. It’s important to him to remember it so he can keep it as his favorite memory, too.

“So,” Adam says. “You excited to go back to classes tomorrow?”

“I can’t believe you’re asking about classes right now,” Matt laughs, draping a leg across Adam’s. “You’re such a nerd.”

“And?” Adam asks.

“And that’s what I like about you,” Matt says.

The last bit of the semester goes by too quickly – two weeks aren’t enough time to study, take midterms, and spend time with Matt. They go to a few smaller parties, lose to Kenny and Piper at every video game known to Kenny’s game collection, and stay up to late studying in the library until they get so giggly they get kicked out.

On his last day, two hours before his parents are supposed to pick him up before winter break, he grabs Matt as he’s leaving his last final.

“You done?” Adam asks. His last final was the day before, but their little group had a study party at Toby’s apartment the night before and he and Matt had had some time of their own afterwards.

Matt nods. “It felt good. Must be all that tutoring you gave me.” He winks, and Adam blushes.

“I can’t believe you called sex ‘tutoring’ in front of your brother last night,” Adam mutters. “Like, that was so transparent even Happy picked up on it.”

Matt shrugs. “And?”

Adam pulls him in and kisses him. “I love you,” he murmurs against Matt’s lips. “I’m gonna miss you so damned much.”

“Me too,” Matt says. “But it’s only a month, right?”

Adam nods. “Only a month.” They kiss again, then Adam reaches for his pocket. “I, um. I was hoping you could open your Christmas present now.”

Matt nods. “Okay.”

Adam did a terrible job of wrapping the picture frame, but he hands it to Matt anyway. Matt opens it carefully, unpeeling the crumpled paper with gentle fingers, and looking at it.

“It’s all of us,” Matt says, fingertips brushing over where he and Adam are next to each other in the cover picture of the photo album. “It’s the picture of all of us from the Halloween party.”

Adam nods. “That’s the first night we all took a picture together.” He brushes some hair from Matt’s cheeks. “Very found family of us. The rest is other pictures from the semester, so you – so you can look back if you’re lonely.”

Matt dives in and kisses Adam, arms thrown around his neck. “Thank you,” he murmurs. “This is the best gift ever.” He steps back. “Yours is in my apartment, though.”

“Oh!” Adam says. “That kind of gift?”

“Well, yes, that too,” Matt says, rolling his eyes with a smile. “But, like, the actual gift is in there, too. They wouldn’t let me bring anything into the test room.”

They walk, hand in hand, to Matt’s apartment that he shares with Toby, and Matt all but shoves him on the couch. “Wait here,” Matt says. “I’ll go get your gift.”

“Still feels like you’re gonna walk out naked and say I’m all you want for Christmas,” Adam yells after Matt, but he stretches out on the couch.

Matt comes back and holds out a smally, square box. “Here.”

Adam opens it and pulls out the keychain. There’s a picture of him and Matt at the top, and, below, a Spotify code etched into the metal.

“Scan it,” Matt says, bouncing on his toes. “It’s, like, a 2020’s version of a mixtape.”

Adam scans the code and sees a playlist called Adamantium.

“Adamantium?”

“Because you make me strong,” Matt says beaming. “It’s songs that make me think of you.”

Adam reaches up and yanks Matt down. “This is the best gift ever.”

He and Matt are really ramping up when the door crashes open with a bang and they pull apart to see Toby and Happy making out and running into the kitchen.

“Oh,” Matt says. “Alright, then.”

“Shut up,” Happy says. “You have an apartment, right Cowboy?”

“I – yes?” Adam says. “Cowboy?”

“You and the stupid fuckin’ belt buckles,” Happy says. “Out. I have a boyfriend to fuck.”

“I’m the boyfriend!” Toby says, and Adam is surprised he managed to bag such a smoke show as Happy freaking Quinn.

“We can go to your dorm,” Matt says, grinning. “I have it, unfortunately, on good authority that Nick is otherwise occupied.”

They fall together in Adam’s dorm, the lingering feeling of the last time until they see each other next sticking in Adam’s heart, but it’s good. It’s always so, so good.

And he’s always so, so in love.

Matt helps Adam pack up the essentials, and then Adam’s parents are texting to say they’re here. “Probably too soon to meet the parents,” Matt says, small smile. “Maybe next semester?”

“Okay,” Adam says, exhaling. “I’ll see you soon, right?”

Matt nods. “So soon.” He stands on his toes and yanks Adam in for what is clearly one final kiss, their hair messed up and hearts full. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Adam rests his forehead against Matt’s. “Thank you for being the best part of my semester.”

Matt tilts his head up and steals one last, perfect kiss.

~

Mini Playlist:

Nonsense - Sabrina Carpenter

Kiss You - One Direction

Look After You - The Fray

I Think I'm In Love - Kat Dahlia

[existslikepristin]

Impromptu Review

Thanks for editing this one goes to momirene and Worldsover, and for helpful beta reading feedback from them and one dork who wants to remain anonymous.

Tags: TheLounge, Red Velvet, SNSD (Girl's Generation), Joy, Sunny, loneliness, potential traumatization of cats, a hoard of hell-themed sex toys, a strap on, a butt plug with Jiu's face in it, and bisexual problems.

The front door of Sunny’s apartment swung open so fast that Joy felt a breeze from the vacuum it left behind.

“Joy! You’re here!”

Joy blinked. “Yeah, I said I would come over.”

“It’s been so long since we’ve met up! Come in, come in!”

“It’s only been like a month though.”

Sunny grabbed Joy’s hands and pulled her through the doorway. “It feels like so much longer than that!”

Joy smiled and took her shoes off in the entryway. “You seem more excited than usual.”

“What? How so?”

“Well for one,” Joy said, pointing at the kitchen, “It looks like you prepared for a whole party in here.”

The kitchen’s island was covered in plates of snacks and several variations of alcoholic beverages. Additionally, Sunny was noticeably sweaty, like she had just run around the house preparing for guests. Joy figured it would be best not to bring that up.

“What? No. That? That’s… yeah, that’s a lot of food, isn’t it?” Sunny’s posture drooped, as if she’d already expended all of her energy on her greeting.

Joy pulled her into a side hug. Her height served to straighten Sunny back up. “What’s going on, girl?”

Sunny sighed and leaned her head on Joy’s chest. “I dunno. I’m just excited. Haven’t had a good social night any time recently.”

“Aw! But what about these cutie kitties?”

Sogeum popped her head out from behind the wall and gave Joy her signature droopy, grim stare without so much as a meow. As soon as Joy shuffled in her direction though, she turned and went back into the living room.

“Well, you know. Can’t really have a real conversation with the cats.”

Joy hummed her agreement and stepped into the kitchen. “I’m always happy to talk to you Sunny. They don’t call SM a family for nothing.”

Sunny groaned, loudly.

“Um. Okay,” Joy said when Sunny didn’t elaborate. “Not a family? Just a bunch of really close friends?”

“Yeah, that’ll work better. Not a fan of the family motif.”

Joy picked up a cracker and chomped down. “Gonna… explain? Family is normally a positive thing, isn’t it?”

Sunny grabbed a bottle of wine and yanked the cork out. “Yeah, totally, for sure. Hey, do you like Chardonnay?”

“I…” Joy didn’t want to skirt around whatever issue Sunny was having, but was well-aware of her stubbornness. “I sure do.”

As fancy glasses of white wine were generously poured, Joy made note of Sunny’s slow, unsteady movements. She worried that perhaps Sunny had already started drinking, or wasn’t getting enough sleep.

* * *

“Can you believe that, Joy?”

“No way. It’s just inhuman.”

“Completely! It’s not like green onions are suddenly more expensive to dry out!”

The conversation had started with gossip and cheese snacking when the sun was high. As the sun set, the discussion shifted to the price of instant meals, and the snack plates were all but empty. Joy had to fight the constant urge to fall asleep, as the topics were never much more interesting than that. But she let Sunny lead the talking as much as possible.

Joy was simply relieved that Sunny called her over before diving into her liquor storage. “You should start a petition to regulate the price. I’d be the first to sign it.”

Sunny’s tipsy grin matched Joy’s. Though the alcohol consumption had been slow-going, they had been doing it for several hours. “Oh that would be great press. ‘Washed up idol upset with ramen manufacturers.’”

With an exaggerated roll of the eyes, Joy pointed at a set of boxes in the corner of the living room, currently being used as a lookout tower by Sogeum. “You’re not washed up yet. Look at all of those sponsor gifts. Those weren’t here last time I came over… Wait, they weren’t, were they?”

Sunny giggled. “No, they’re, uh… new.”

Their corporate sponsors weren’t something that Joy, Sunny, or any of the other SM idols discussed often. There were usually so many vying for their attention that it was pointless trying to keep track. But Joy reasoned, somewhat drunkenly, that talking about it might be therapeutic to someone so down on their social status. “Who are they from, anyway?”

A blush deepened the red of Sunny’s already tipsy-glowing cheeks. “Uh… Nobody. Just a regular sponsor, ya know?”

Joy grinned. “Oh, come on. You can tell me. What am I gonna do? Call a press conference to tell the tabloids who’s contributing to your paycheck?”

Sunny rolled her eyes. She shot off the couch, spilling a drop or two of her wine in the process. From Joy’s naturally higher perspective, Sunny didn’t seem that much taller. “Fine,” she said, wobbling, “but you better not make fun of me.”

“I’ll make fun of you for other reasons, like how much I love you, bitch!” Joy blinked at her own shouting. She didn’t know when the alcohol had hit her, but she was beginning to think that she was a little more intoxicated than she previously thought.

Thankfully, the joviality in her voice seemed to encourage Sunny to play along. She set her wine on the coffee table and picked one of the smaller boxes off of the pile. “Disclosure first! We haven’t agreed to any deals yet. They sent me this stuff to try to convince me to shill it. I didn’t reach out to them.”

Joy waved the disclosure off like a mosquito, but Sunny still tossed the box in her direction. The weight inside of it was awkwardly distributed. Joy attempted to catch it, but it wound up ricocheting off the tips of her fingers and nearly knocking over an open, mostly full bottle of soju.

“The fuck is in this thing?”

“I’ve got some ideas but I just know who it’s from. Open it and find out.”

Joy tore into the box with no regard for the care that went into the packaging, which itself was surprisingly discreet. A smirk cracked her lips when she thought about what sorts of deliveries required such discretion. But the smirk faded right away when she got a view of the inside and realized that the packager apparently had the same idea.

Inside was a pair of plastic sheets wrapped asymmetrically around a roughly water bottle sized blob of blood red silicone. A small bit of pink cardboard advertised it as a five-speed, rotation-simulating, self-cleaning, pattern-switching, USB-charging, automatically-lubricating, remote-controlled vibrator with a speaker at the bottom for replicating a set of desired moans and a specialized charging dock.

Joy cleared her throat and stared at the horrifically fancy dildo, and its label, “Dante’s Dive,” unsure if she should toss it back to Sunny, considering it was clearly a personal item.

Sunny reached into what was left of the box, procuring a pretty little decorated card. “Dear Ms. Lee, we at Second Ring Inc were very pleased to hear your impromptu review of our products on a recent episode of ‘Welp, I Guess We’re Talking About This Now’ and wished to send you some additional items to show our appreciation. These are in no way a request for further public review,” Sunny was briefly interrupted by Joy’s disapproving snort, “but should you be interested in a partnership, we have included a phone number at which I, the chief executive officer, Lee Youngjoon, may be reached. Optionally, my username--”

Joy missed a few words as she was shocked by the extreme sound emitted by the vibrator when she pushed a button on the remote control.

“--is ‘worldsover’. As you know, Second Ring specializes in sexual wellness products, of which we’ve sent you a wide variety. They can be enjoyed by couples, or can serve as a fantastic outlet for power singles like yourself…”

Sunny trailed off. Joy was afraid she knew what was coming. “Damn, Sunny. You say so much as three words on national television and they scramble to get right up on your ass, eh?”

It was too late. Sunny was already tipping up the bottom of the soju bottle. A few drops spluttered back out of her mouth as Joy pushed it back down. “Sunny! You’ve said it yourself! You don’t want to get married!”

“Doesn’t mean I’m not still lonely!”

Joy wrapped her arms around Sunny. “You’ve got me. And a million other friends!”

“Fans don’t count.” Sunny’s voice was partially muffled by Joy’s shoulder.

“Ouch. Time for me to delete my Sone club membership. But fine. A hundred other friends. It’s not just me. It’s my members. Your members. And plenty of others. All of NCT would be--Okay, nevermind. Aespa though! They love you too.”

“But I don't want to inconvenience you." Sunny ended so matter-of-factly that Joy had to pause to process the short conversation.

"You know how… You know how you take a road trip, and there's a road block, or really bad construction, and you have to take a detour?"

"Yeah. I'm a detour."

"Come on, Sunny. What you are is the scenic route!”

There was a long silence.

“Was that the end of the metaphor?” Sunny eventually asked.

“I am very drunk.”

“You’re not that drunk.”

“Drunk enough to be shit at metaphors.”

“It’s…” Sunny extricated herself from Joy’s hug. “It’s okay. I think I know what you’re getting at, and I appreciate it. It’s just that a few words don’t really fix a brain, you know?”

Joy nodded slowly, watching as Sogeum casually stalked across the room. “Yup. But believe me. I’m here for you, at least. So if you need a friend, or some company, I’m at the top of your list.”

The cat plopped herself on the floor, right up against Sunny’s leg. Joy giggled. “Fuck off, kitty. I just said I was the top.”

It seemed the topic of conversation was ready to change. Sunny smiled, and it was enough to indicate her understanding.

“So!” Joy moved things along. “A pile of free, top of the line sex toys in your living room. What’s a young woman to do about that?”

Sunny snorted. “Well I’m not going to masturbate while I have company over, that’s for sure.” She grabbed another box from the pile and handed it over, doing her best not to disturb Sogeum’s new resting place.

The new box took mere seconds to open, this time revealing a black silicone butt plug with a red gem in the base. The casing suggested that a picture could be inserted beneath the gem, and it appeared there was one already there as an example. Joy had to flip it around to a variety of angles before she could make out that it contained a headshot of Dreamcatcher’s Jiu making finger hearts on her cheeks. She cocked her head, wondering if the image had actually been authorized.

Another box swapped between the womens’ hands. It took Joy a little longer to open than the last, but it turned out to be that way for a good reason, given that it was gently holding some fragile cargo: A red-tinted glass bottle of lube, labeled as “Juice from the Fruit of The Tree.” The lengthy product title had a snake winding through the letters.

“Well now they’re just really doubling down on this theme, aren’t they?” Sunny asked as she worked out how to open the next package, using her bottle opener as a makeshift knife.

Joy laughed and picked up yet another, now eager to see what kind of wild object it would contain. “Yeah, they really are! No lie, they’re starting to give me some ideas. Talk about sinful.”

“‘Oh I know,’” Sunny mocked the company, as SM artists often did, fingers still struggling to find their way under the first cardboard flap. “‘Let’s send Sunny a whole pile of sex junk. Bet she’s sinful enough to use it all.’ Like, come on Love-eye, or whatever your name is. What’s a single woman gonna do with all this? Hold up a pillow fort?”

“Hey, maybe he doesn’t know you’re single. Maybe there’s some stuff in here that takes two to tangle with… Fuck. Choerry’s got me using alliterations.”

Sunny barely managed to get her fingers inside the box, but her knuckles were turning white from the tightness of it. It seemed that she had left a portion of the packing tape uncut. “I said I was single on the show, though. I don’t think there will be any couples’ toys in here.”

“Oooh, I’m gonna make it a bet now.” Joy smirked. Her next sentence bypassed her verbal filter through the holes left in it by the alcohol. “If you get that thing open and there’s a strap on inside, you have to fuck me with it!”

A jerk of her arms snapped the remainder of the packing tape. Sunny chuckled. “You’re on. There’s no way it is.”

Joy had to admit that Sunny had a point, considering how small the package was. Surely it couldn’t fit a series of leather straps, or a dildo any larger than a couple of inches in any direction. The little voice in the back of her mind that told her making such an offer was stupid quieted down somewhat.

There was a moment of quiet. Sogeum rolled away from Sunny and made her way to the kitchen. Joy picked up another box, confident that she hadn’t just placed herself in an awkward situation. Sunny shook her head, amused. And then…

“J-Joy?”

Joy looked back, but wasn’t quite sure what she was looking at. It was a sort of mass of black string with some silver discs hanging off of it. Another piece of pink paper fluttered to the floor, where Joy picked it up and read aloud.

“‘The Obol.’ As Charon ferried Dante across the Styx and into the hole that is Hell, so too shall this state-of-the-art magnetic harness ferry our exclusive Dante’s Dive dildo into your… partner’s hole…”

There was more to be read, but both women seemed to get the point. The only sound in the room came from Sogeum chomping through some hard cat food in the kitchen. Slowly, their eyes raised and met. They both spoke at the same moment.

“That was a bet’s a joke bet right?”

Their drunken minds needed a moment to detangle their words into distinct sentences. Sunny’s “That was a joke, right?” and Joy’s “A bet’s a bet.”

Sunny started again first. “You know, we don’t have to.”

“I will if you want to.”

Every sentence being exchanged was followed by a palpable stillness. Joy’s heart beat loudly in her own ears, and she swore she could hear Sunny’s too.

“Do you… want to fuck me with that, Sunny?”

Sunny answered instantly. “Yup.”

There was a flurry of action, though it was slowed here and there by a tipsy stumble or two. Sunny gathered up an armful of the items on her coffee table, both sex toys and the bottle of soju, and sprinted for the bedroom. Joy rushed after her, messily attempting and failing to remove some of her clothes on the way.

Sogeum was spooked by the sudden kerfuffle and fled out of sight.

The bedroom was no less hectic. Sunny dropped everything on the bed except the soju, which she took one more swig of directly from the bottle before setting it dangerously close to the edge of her desk. She wiggled out of her shirt and bra, which attracted Joy’s attention instantly.

Joy struck at Sunny’s cleavage, wrapping her fingers as far as they could go around the legendary orbs, and her lips around one of the budding tips. Their differences in height made it awkward, but they very soon found their way to a horizontal state that eased that tension. Unfortunately, it was not on the bed, but on the floor, but they weren’t about to let something like that stop them.

What clothes they were still wearing exploded off their bodies. Joy’s shorts and shirt, Sunny’s pants and socks. All of it ended up in different sections of the room, thrown under and over furniture.

Joy was no stranger to encounters like this, and neither was Sunny. They had shared countless stories with each other… and some spit. But neither had considered their prior make out sessions to be precursors to explicitly sexual action. For her part, however, Joy considered this one differently, and Sunny’s hands searching half-blindly for Joy’s ass confirmed to her that Sunny thought the same.

Backs arched. Legs ground against one another. Open mouths met, trading the alcoholic scents that the women no longer cared to distinguish. Their minds had devoted themselves entirely to the search for physical pleasure.

A lot of exploratory prodding led Sunny’s fingers to the entrance to Joy’s pussy, failing to notice the number of pokes that ended up at Joy's exit. She took some time familiarizing herself with the drenched outer folds.

Joy, however, noticed the poking at her ass. Her mind swam with serotonin, thoughts of other people, and alcoholic fumes that seemed to rearrange the letters of her thoughts into nonsense. Or possibly into inspiration.

Inspiration relevant to the happenings at the prior year's award shows, that is.

Joy tried to pull back the moment Sunny’s fingers dipped inside her. She had opened her mouth to speak but instead groaned and arched herself further into Sunny’s grip on her sanity. "S-Sunny. B-bed."

At least that message was received loud and clear. Sunny dragged her fingers against Joy’s G-spot as she, disappointingly, pulled them out, nearly causing Joy to scream. The same fingers plunged into Joy’s mouth and quieted her as she diligently sucked her own juices from them.

The action transferred to the bed. Fingers immediately found their places again, and Joy bounced on her back in time with Sunny’s brutal shoves. Packaging bounced all around them. It was like a desperate, distracted game of Vegetable Shinobi for Joy, swiping at the jumping dildo. Sunny’s fingers were divine, eye-wateringly so, but Joy wanted something unholy.

Sunny muttered Joy’s name, catching her attention again. She lifted her head to meet for yet another imprecise kiss. Their legs twisted around each other. Joy could hear the desperation in Sunny’s moans, vibrating all the way down her throat, burning like the alcohol. She snaked a hand between them and found Sunny’s clit.

The moans freed themselves as Sunny bucked backward, almost out of Joy’s longer reach. Joy noted the exceptional reaction, and flipped Sunny onto her back, following immediately and putting herself in the position of power Sunny had initiated.

“You’re gonna fuck me with the strap on… right, Sunny?”

Sunny’s eyes widened, and she grabbed the toys.

“No, not yet,” Joy stalled in her most seductive voice. She slid down, nearly falling off the bed, and wrenched Sunny’s legs wide open with her elbows.

Sunny clenched her fingers around the hell-themed dildo for dear life. Joy’s name poured through her lips over and over again as Joy’s lips poured over her pussy.

Joy had to fight Sunny’s strength to keep her spread thighs from clamping around her head. She wanted to keep hearing her senior beg, loud and clear. To that end, she dug in her tongue, unable to penetrate far, but far enough to open Sunny up and feel the wetness flow into her mouth.

“Please… Joy… I’m close… Joy, please! Joy, don’t stop!”

The thought flitted through Joy’s head, that perhaps denying Sunny her orgasm would be fun, but something about the way she said it made Joy wonder if Sunny’s neediness was rooted in her loneliness, more than in her desire to get off. She shifted herself to wrap her arms under Sunny’s legs and pulled. It wasn’t possible for them to be any physically closer than they were, but she wanted to make it feel like they could be.

Sunny’s voice cracked, choked, and broke into a scream. Joy winced as her tongue was squeezed uncomfortably, but she wasn’t about to stop. The back arches, hair grasping, and pained gasps that followed were worth it.

Joy kept it up until Sunny’s body fell back down and her muscles relaxed. Only then, she removed herself to ask, “Need a break before my turn?”

A smile crept up Sunny’s mouth. Her fingers tightened around the dildo she still had in her hand. “Get… back down here.”

If there was any benefit Joy appreciated most about idol training, it was recovery speed, and Sunny still had it. Joy picked up the strap, quickly figuring out how it was supposed to fit and sliding it up Sunny’s legs. The motion doubled as her approach for another make out.

Of course, Joy was still immensely horny. Her interest in making out with Sunny was overshadowed by her desire to get fucked savagely, but she had the wherewithal to hold out, to let it happen naturally. She was always good at letting others take the lead. Whether they led from the top or from the bottom didn’t especially matter to her.

The alcohol made her more impatient than usual though. She forced herself to wait for the five-speed pounding she’d get, but she ground herself against Sunny’s leg in the meantime. Thankfully she didn’t have to wait long. Sunny threw her to the side and attached the vibrator to the unusual strap with very little trouble. Joy fingered herself as she watched.

“Fuck, yes, Sunny. This is going to be so goo--”

Sunny practically tackled Joy. Their lips collided again, strap hovering somewhere between Joy’s legs, but not close enough for her to feel it.

The moment she did, though, Joy grabbed Sunny’s ass and pulled. The lack of accuracy was made up for by the inhuman amount of lubrication present; both Joy’s and the curious synthetic compound that the dildo exuded seemingly of its own volition.

It was almost too much for Joy. The dildo was certainly longer than any she had used before, and bottoming out at full speed meant it hit her rather painfully in the cervix. She hissed, but otherwise just readjusted her legs in Sunny’s way to prevent the same thing from happening so easily again.

The strap held the dildo in place on Sunny’s body well. Despite its genuinely small frame, it seemed to prevent all wiggling. Every one of Sunny’s movements, including the less delicate, more intoxicated ones, translated to sensations that felt to Joy like a biologically attached dick, albeit with a plethora of extra features.

"You're so pretty, Joy," Sunny said. Even though she was doing all the work now, she wasn't nearly as winded as before. Knowing she’d affected Sunny made Joy grin into another kiss.

“No you,” Joy said with a smirk. She knew this would be good, but she truly underestimated how great it would be to see Sunny’s famous tits jiggling with the effort of fucking her. The sheen of sweat covering them would ensure the night wouldn’t be forgotten, even if Joy had another drink or two.

Joy’s first orgasm struck quickly and unexpectedly. Her breath stopped and a shudder spiked through her body from her core to the tips of her toes and fingers and head. The ability to think normally left her for a brief moment. She only kept the fleeting question of whether or not Sunny was able to feel Joy’s climax. Stars popped in and out of existence, obscuring Joy’s view of Sunny’s fantastic body.

It all faded relatively soon after, but it wasn’t enough for Joy. As soon as her lungs refilled, she screamed, “More! Sunny! Fuck me! Fuck me! Oh god!” She was practically numb everywhere, except for every square inch of her that the dildo rubbed, slid, and vibrated against. Her arms and legs wrapped around Sunny on their own.

Joy, eyes half closed, barely registered when Sunny slowed down to grab and open the extra package. She did, however, notice the sudden prodding feeling at her asshole.

“Sun--”

She couldn’t even finish Sunny’s name before something slipped its way into her butt. Her vision cleared up enough to see that even while she continued thrusting, Sunny had one hand tucked between them, and it was the source of the extra intrusion.

A couple more thrusts though, and Joy was lost to the pleasure again. She started to pant instead of scream or moan, or perhaps she was whimpering, or speaking fluent Polish. Joy couldn’t have said one way or the other. Another orgasm hit. And another. And another. She knew some time was passing between each one, but whether it was seconds or days between no longer mattered. Her mind was fading out of existence.

Until, that is, it wasn’t.

With seemingly no provocation, Joy suddenly remembered Cheungae. She had been meaning to talk to Sunny about him before they had gotten drunk. Her mind wandered, far, far more than it normally would during such intense sex.

Cheungae had taken her out several times since their first, less-than-professional meeting at the MAMAs with Wheein. Even though Joy knew he was struggling financially, he always insisted on paying for coffee, but would give up if he saw the bill when Joy took him to some of the much higher end restaurants.

He was always so polite, genuine, and humble. He didn’t even question when Joy told him they couldn’t be in a relationship, but instead insisted that they could be friends. Joy wondered if it was fair to him that she was treating him as a boyfriend in every way but name while she was still having a grand old time fucking everyone else in the industry. Cheungae knew about it, but wasn’t part of it.

And yet, sex with Cheungae made Joy feel good. Great, even. She could recreate the sensations in her mind for days afterward. His slim, toned figure hovering over her, his face contorted beautifully in adorable agony, his admittedly mediocre cock managing to hit her just right with every move. She couldn’t stop picturing him.

Another orgasm smashed through Joy’s illusion. The mental image of perfectly human Cheungae was instantly replaced with the very physical image of god-like Sunny. As tended to happen, Joy held her breath as the climax coursed through her. Her muscles contracted until she was holding Sunny in a deathly grip.

“F-fuck. Sunn-ny. Slow… slow down.”

It seemed that the request was desperately needed by both lovers, because rather than simply slow down, Sunny fell over. Joy’s pussy immediately craved to be filled again, but she knew she needed to clear her head. And besides that, she still had an odd full sensation. When her muscles relaxed enough for her to move of her own volition, she reached beneath herself and recoiled again at the feeling of a drenched butt plug. Her fingertips carried a puddle of mixed cum and lube back up.

“I’m sorry… Joy… I think that’s all I have left in me,” Sunny said between gasps.

Joy made note of her own throat and how dry it was. Whatever sound she was making while she borderline hallucinated, she’d be regretting it for a while. “All good. I was losing my sanity. That was unbelievable.”

Sunny giggled. It sounded painful. “The vibrator… or the surprise plug?”

Joy giggled back. “The plug was definitely a surprise. Was that the one with Jiu's face in it?”

“Mhm.”

“Cool,” Joy sat up, her head swimming in the aftermath. “But I just think it was you using the stuff that made it so good.”

Sunny seemed invigorated by the compliments. She smiled and reached under the bed, making some noise and bringing up a bottle of water. The two of them swapped it back and forth until it was empty and then collapsed into one another, idly feeling each others' bodies up the whole time.

“Does that mean you’re up for another… night like this? Or day?” Sunny asked as she fondled Joy’s tits. It sounded like she had sobered up, at least most of the way. Joy was too afraid of what she would see to look at a clock.

“You fucking know it,” Joy responded while she brushed her fingers up and down Sunny’s inner thighs. It was a reflex for her to agree, but she cringed inwardly as soon as she did, realizing how much more sober she had become herself, and how she wished she wasn’t. She was thinking about Cheungae again.

There was a barrage of light kisses all over her face, neck, and chest. Sunny looked far too happy for Joy to feel okay about retracting her statement.

“Maybe not right now though,” Joy said, just in case Sunny was already getting ideas. “We should really get to bed.”

She didn’t hear any arguments. They simply got up, and only long enough to flip up the duvet, flinging all of the remaining sex toys off, and jumped underneath.

It took a minute for Joy to realize she needed to remove the surprise butt plug. It was easy enough, and she ended up tossing it to the floor without looking at it.

Joy wrapped herself around Sunny. She was usually the big spoon, not that it bothered her. Sunny’s bare back felt comfortably hot against her chest and stomach. Cheungae liked being the big spoon too. He’d swap with her all the time…

“Hey, Sunny?”

“Mmm?” Sunny was on the verge of sleep, it seemed.

Joy lowered her voice, barely above a whisper. “Have you ever thought about… Settling down, I guess? Just being with one person?”

She didn’t expect Sunny to have an immense store of wisdom, but she hoped for more than what she got: a snore.

“Good night to you too, Sunny.”

[eureka-its-zico]

Damage

Request: You meet JB in a bar and have a one-night stand

A/N: My friend has asked me for JB fics none stop. I haven’t been able to finish one, because I get stuck in my head and think everything is trash. I think this one is okay, at best. I’ve edited as much as my eyes can stand. Either way, she seemed to enjoy it. I hope you all enjoy it in some way too. Much Love, Jenn

p.s. It’s named Damage because I literally had the song of the same name from H.E.R playing on repeat the entire time.

Jaebum X Reader

Genre: SmUt

Words:5534

Warnings: semi-public sex, rough play, some ass-slaping - you get the picture -

There was a time that the idea of sleeping with a complete stranger from a bar would’ve never crossed your mind. It wasn’t that you were a prude. A part of you secretly wanted to know what it felt like to be so overwhelmed by another that they made you less cautious and more adventurous. No one ever seemed able to stir that emotion in you, however. 

Until you’d met JB. 

Now, as his fingers traced across your skin, his lips kissed at the hollow of your neck, you couldn’t imagine an alternate universe where you didn’t say yes. Where you weren’t pressed into the backseat of a stuffy cab not caring that you had an audience while JB’s hand made its way between your thighs. His mouth hungrily lapping up your moan as his fingers slid under the edge of your panties. 

A part of you should’ve felt embarrassed. You were passengers in this cab. The obvious audience of the older man up front would’ve normally made you shove his hand away with your cheeks pink; pretending to care if they watched. 

But JB was a force you weren’t used to. One that threatened to consume you and god, did you want to be consumed. 

EARLIER

————————-

“Come on, Y/N. You can’t be sad forever about that asshole.” 

Your fingers skimmed the paper of your beer smearing an image of a heart in the condensation. Your teeth drawing in your bottom lip as you thought about what your friend was saying. Of course, she was right. It was two weeks, give or take, since you broke up with Mark. You’d had your days of wallowing, eating copious amounts of ice cream, and crying on the couch watching rom-coms and asking why can’t your life be like this? 

There wasn’t any doubt your ex wasn’t off doing the same. Hell, he’d made sure to take pictures of his latest escapades and made sure to share it to his social media. Not that you were looking at any of it or anything. 

“You’re right,” you huffed out in defeat. 

Why was it so hard to let him go? It wasn’t like he’d had such a hard time deciding to end your relationship. 

“I’m sorry. What was that? Can you say it a little louder for me please I’m hard of hearing.”

You shot her a look of disbelief that sent her head falling back with laughter. 

“This one time you might be a little bit right.”

You took a swig of your drink to hide your own smile. 

“Plus, how can you be sad over that loser when the hottest dude is five feet away.”

You followed her eyes to see what had her making such a bold claim. There were plenty of good looking men and women in the bar. How could one person possibly hold the title when your opinion could be different? 

It wasn’t. 

You found him easily. No longer needing the guide of your friend to find who it was that’d caught her attention. And sweet Jesus he was hands down the best looking in the room. 

He was leaning up against the wall. His eyes half crescent moons as he smiled. One hand holding a beer that was close to his lips as he replied back to whatever his friend said. You shamelessly watched how his lips wrapped around the bottle to take a drink. The sharpness of his jaw and the expanse of his neck. 

You wanted to know what he looked like with his mouth on you and tasting the sweetness between your thighs. 

The desire for it caused your legs to squeeze together to give yourself any sort of friction. Your mind still going over the fantasy you were creating with him in the starring role. Suddenly, he was looking back at you. A harsh blush rose to your cheeks at being caught but refused to look away. 

God! What am I doing?! 

You’ve never been the one to make the first move. Of any kind. Eye contact felt like a first move of showing interest, but you were more than interested and a part of you wondered if he could see it. See that even this far between your spaces in the bar how badly you wanted to know how he tasted. 

A gasp brought your attention back to the position of your friend. Her mouth agape in shock but that threatened to spill into a smile at any moment. 

“Hollleeeeey shit! Did you just give that guy ‘fuck me eyes’ from across the bar?”

You scoffed at the idea before shooting a cautionary look back in his direction. Using your elbows that were on the top of the bar you swiveled yourself to face the many rows of liquor. Fighting the urge to look back at him again or acknowledge your friend bouncing in her seat. 

“Yes you fuckin did!”

Your reply was a quick swig of your drink as you tried your best not to grimace at the taste. You’d been babysitting it too long and now it was lukewarm. 

“I've had my heart broken. I’m not dead,” you replied. 

“Let’s go over and talk to them!”

Your head whipped in her direction so fast you swore you’d ended up with whiplash. Yes, you were looking. And yes, this man did provoke unholy fantasies, but that didn’t mean you were ready to be that close. 

“You’re joking.”

“Nope. I think this will be good for you.”

She ignored your burst of panic and waved down the bartender who acknowledged her sooner than you would’ve liked. 

“What can I get you ladies.”

“Two shots of tequila, please.”

“What are you doing?” 

She wiggled her brows at you and rubbed her shoulder up against yours. Her weak attempt to pump you up with excitement for whatever diabolical thing she’d planned. 

“Just a little liquid courage before we head on over.”

“Heading towards the door, you mean.”

Your words came out as a grumble. A pout setting in as the bartender set down the small glasses in front of the two of you. Which she quickly slid hers to click beside yours. 

“You, my lovely friend, are going to have both.”

“Are you trying to give me alcohol poisoning?”

“Nope. Just trying to help you get some guiltless sex with a stranger.”

“Wow. You’re so amazing,” you deadpanned. Your hand snacking out to grab one of the shot glasses downing the first one. You were sure the reaction you were having looked like a cartoon character. God, this stuff was disgusting. “I’m pretty sure that stuff causes forest fires.” 

The bartender offered you a lemon, amusement flashing in his eyes. You were hoping he could see the thank you in yours with your mouth shoved full of lemon. 

You left it sitting in your mouth; teeth clenched tight against the softness and the peel exposed between your lips. You wondered if this was picture worthy and received your answer moments later when your friends’ camera flashed in your face. Your vision erupting in sparks of dark spots that left you unable to see. 

“Sorry. I couldn’t help it.”

With the peel still held between your lips you made a face at her. Her mouth opened to reply, and suddenly it closed. Her eyes wide and darting from you to whoever was now perched beside you. 

You remembered you still had a shot left and decided it was time to meet your fate. Your legs moved to turn you to sit straight on the stool when you realized someone was beside you at the bar. In perfect horror movie fashion, you glanced at your right and saw the man who’d caused your need for liquid courage. 

He was just there. His body casually leaning against the bar with an air of coolness that didn’t seem forced. He was talking with the bartender. The two of them locked in a conversation like they were old friends and catching up. Maybe they were. 

Up close he was even more striking. His hair was perfectly slicked back to make it appear short, but it was anything but. The gel he’d used was beginning to wear off and displayed hair that was beginning to fall into his eyes. 

You wanted to run your hands through it. To grip it as you rode his tongue. 

It felt like he must have had a sensation of what you were thinking. He ended his conversation and turned to look at you. A spark of laughter lit up the dark brown of his eyes and you swore you were swooning in your chair. 

“I see you must really like lemons.”

Your brow furrowed as you wondered what the hell he could be talking about. He must have caught on to your confusion and patted a single digit against the lemon peel still peaking like a smile between your lips. Your eyes shot wide with horror as you not too gracefully spit it out onto the napkin. 

“Oh...my...god,” you whispered at the wood of the bar. Praying that the floor would open up and swallow you whole. 

“Hi!” Your friend shot an arm over you with her hand extended for him to shake. “My name’s Vanessa. This is my lovely friend, Y/N. The lemon sucker.” 

Your head jerked in her direction and you hoped she could see how much you wish you could hit her. 

The man beside you, however, looked nothing but amused and took Vanessa’s hand. You couldn’t keep your eyes from looking at his fingers; the way it practically covered all of hers. 

“Nice to meet you both.”

He released her hand and shocked you by leaving his hand open and waiting for you to take. You glanced up at him and then back down to his hand. You took it without waiting too long, because you didn’t want him to think you were rude, or worse, weirder than he probably already did. The minute your hands folded around the other you swore it was electric. 

“My name’s Jaebum. Everyone calls me JB, for short.” 

Jaebum. JB. You would call him whatever he wanted. His voice was soft as he spoke and forced you to move closer to hear him. You wondered if that’d been his plan. It was the only thing you could think of as his thumb caressed over the knuckles of your hand before he took it away. 

You dropped your hand down to the side of your skirt and fought not to rub it against the fabric. The attraction you felt for JB was something that’d come unexpected and you found yourself inexperienced. It felt overwhelming this need to touch him. To be touched in return. To know how he sounded with your lips wrapped around his cock and those same hands on the back of your head. Bending you over and smacking your ass until it was cherry red. 

You were still staring at each other as these devilish thoughts played out in your head. His eyes roamed your face and you wondered what he saw there. If JB could see the dirty scenarios he held the starring role in. His gaze slid over you from the tips of your toes, over the exposed legs from your skirt, your chest, and back up to your face. 

There was no denying he’d thought of his own scenario with you in mind. His pupils fully blown with lust when he brought his eyes back up to you. Your pulse thudded wildly as you struggled to remember how to properly breathe. 

“Did you girls want to come back over to our table?” The question was meant for both Vanessa and you, but when he asked his gaze never left you. He only looked away to point to his indicated spot. “It’s just me and a couple of my friends. I promise, we aren’t weird or anything.”

A bright smile spread across his lips and if you weren’t swooning earlier, you were definitely doing it now. You were nodding your head yes, unsure if you could trust yourself to talk. Vanessa, unfortunately, didn’t seem to have that issue. 

“That would be amazing and so good for her. Her boyfriend just broke up with her. She’s very vulnerable.”

Oh. My. God. Was she winking like an idiot? 

You looked back at her and couldn’t keep the horror off of her face. Luckily, JB laughed it off. He reached out to grab the drinks he’d ordered and motioned with his head for you girls to follow. You waited for Vanessa to start forward before you fell into step beside her. Your arm shooting out to wrap itself around hers just so you could use it to pull her in tight. 

“What in the hell was that!?”

“I’m trying to help you here. Most men love the idea of a girl on the rebound.”

“Because they think they’re easy, Nessa.”

“Precisely.” 

She flicked her finger up like she’d just made a great discovery. The only thing she was about to discover was that you were, in fact, desperate but for a whole other reason. 

No part of you could remember your ex looking at JB. And while the idea of any sort of relationship with him, physical or otherwise, made you excited there was still that small voice in your head. The not so fun responsible part of you reminded you that you didn’t know him. He could be a weird pervert or a serial killer. Ninety-nine percent of serial killers were usually attractive. 

You let out a sigh not sure how to tell her nicely to butt out. 

“Just, help me less. Ok?”

She regarded you for a moment. Her arm peeling itself out of yours before bringing you in quickly for a one-armed hug. 

“Alright. Girl Scouts honor I won’t say anything else.”

“Thank you!”

And you meant it. Lord knew she only meant well, but in the end it came off embarrassing. Like the two of you were sixteen and in high school again. With you passing notes to all the boys you liked because you were too damn nervous to say anything to their face. You thought it was romantic. In reality, it just seemed well, kinda awkward. 

The two of you stood beside the pool table and you did your best not to fidget with your bag. The weight of six new sets of eyes made you feel like an animal in a zoo. 

“Guys, this is Vanessa and Y/N. I invited them over to hang out with us. If that’s cool.”

The friends all seemed to go from caution to excitement at seeing you in two point five seconds. All of them agreeing it was cool, and waving you all over to find a chair to sit in. 

You were following Vanessa to seats in between two  of his friends, when a soft hand on your arm stopped you. You knew without looking it was JB. Your body reacting instantly to his touch as if it’d been set on fire. 

“You can sit next to me. If you’d like.”

“I’d like that very much.”

Your voice was breathy. Like you were telling him a secret the two of you only needed to hear. The chair in question that sat beside his own, was inches from him. So close that when you sat down your knees were next one another. 

He regarded you briefly before he turned his attention back to his group. His arm snaking around your chair to rest on its back. You were aware that it was a show of dominance. Of signaling to his friends and anyone else who cared to look that you were his. The thought of it sent a thrill through your body of being claimed. Only wishing he would claim you another way too. 

JB’s group of friends were fun and easy to get a long with. One of them in particular, Hyun-Bae, was incredibly funny. He told stories that were entertaining and knew when to use his humor to make everyone laugh. It was enough to make you almost forget the man beside you. Almost. 

You weren’t sure when it had happened, but somewhere between everyone talking, JB’s hand that’d rested comfortably on the back of your chair had moved. His fingers brushed along your skin from your shoulder to collarbone. Each stroke deliberate; sexual and not. Like he could read that you found it comforting but also craved his touch. 

You ached with the urge to kiss him. To taste the liquor on his tongue. All those times you turned to imagine yourself leaning in and doing just that, you’d met his gaze. The two of you shared  a look of knowing and wondered if he’d just been waiting for you to close the last inches of space between you. You were looking at each other now; eyes hungrily glancing at the others lips. 

You wanted to be brave. To just close that space and tell him just to take you home. Screw this dance of cat and mouse. You didn’t want to be chased. You wanted to be owned. 

Instead, a soft, “Excuse me,” came from you as you rose up from your chair. You couldn’t get your  feet to walk fast enough to the bathroom. You were moving so fast you practically took someone out on the way inside. Getting inside the bathroom, you quickly shut the door and turned the lock. 

You were instantly greeted by your reflection in the dirty, marker-ridden, mirror. What you could see of yourself was defeated. A huff of frustration left you as you removed your bag from your shoulder and placed it on the hook on the back of the door. Your feet scuffing the ground as you took a somber approach to the sink. 

You told Vanessa you could do this. You didn’t need help to tell a hot guy you wanted him to fuck you until your legs were far past jello and more like liquid. And every time you were given the opportunity to do something at all, you backed out. 

You rested your hands on the sink and leaned in. Examining your makeup and how very un-messy it was. 

“Note to self: just fuckin do it.”

Yup. The greatest of pep talks. 

You weren’t ready to leave the sanctity of the bathroom but a knock sounded on the door. Reminding you very quickly that there were actual people who probably needed to use it. You moved to pick up your bag when another knock came. 

“Yea, yea I’m coming. Chill.”

When you opened the door, however, JB was just there. His body pushing into the bathroom causing you to step back to give him room. He closed the door without looking back. His body fully facing you as the door clicked closed behind him. 

“JB? Sorry I was just using the restroom-”

“Is that what that was? I mostly heard talking; no flushing.”

His lips spread in an amused smile no doubt at your expense. Your eyes were probably as white as the moon. How long had he been waiting out here?

“Sorry. I just got a little impatient waiting for you.”

In one fluid motion, his arm snaked around your back, and brought you to his chest. JB was prepared for you and his other hand was already holding your face giving him the perfect leverage to crash his mouth down on yours. The moment your lips met that electricity you’d felt earlier flared back to life. This time, it flared across your skin and sparked in every spot he touched. 

The kiss started out a brush of lips and soon became more. His tongue danced at the edge of your bottom lip and you gladly opened up to him. Your hands plunging to make a mess of his perfectly gelled hair at the same time his tongue slipped inside your mouth. 

You were eager to respond. Eager to caress his tongue with yours. His mouth tasted of the bittersweet liquor he’d sipped on for the last hour. Suddenly, the overwhelming urge to taste yourself on his lips made your body ache to be touched in other places. For your fantasies of his mouth on you to begin here. You didn’t care where. 

JB seemed to understand what you needed. He broke from the kiss fast and turned you around. His body pressed against your back and his hands at the edge of your skirt. You watched in the mirror as he moved your skirt up to your hips exposing your thong to the room. 

He watched you, his lips hovering over your ear before giving it a playful nip, and those same hands were now laced in the strings. JB moved back just enough to squat down so his hands could move them down your legs until he reached your ankles. 

“Step out.”

You followed his command without question. Your head tilting back to watch the little bit of cloth he held in his hand get scrunched up even smaller and placed inside the front pocket of his jeans. His eyes looked up to meet yours, and your body froze with anticipation. Whatever he would ask you to do, you knew you would comply. 

“Spread your legs.”

The demand in his voice was feverish. His own need on display as his hand caressed up your calf until it was between your thighs. A finger teasingly moved across your opening, causing a soft gasp to exit from your lips. You did as you were instructed and waited until you heard an approving, “Hm,” from his lips. 

The room swelled as the anticipation grew. The reflection you’d seen moments ago was washed away and the woman who’d taken her place was eager and ready to offer up her own demands. 

JB moved to stand on his feet with his hands traveling along the curve of your legs and up onto your hips. There his fingers dug into the soft flesh as he leaned into your back, his eyes on yours in the mirror, as he spoke into your ear, “Place your hands on the sink.”

“Spank me first.”

A shiver of shock ran through you. You couldn’t believe you’d said it, but after your request had left you, you’d refused to take it back. Your body craved to be reprimanded by his hands and the smirk on his lips told you plainly he was more than happy to oblige. 

“Beg for it.”

“Please spank me. Please, JB.”

His hand curled up to wrap around your throat as his index finger danced at the edge of your lips. 

“How bad do you want it?”

“I want I-“

The smack reverberated like thunder in the small room. The sting was instant and beautiful. The heat between your legs was aching and your ass jetted against his jeans for any kind of friction. JB stepped back, denying you any form of relief, and landed another smack on your exposed cheek. 

This one made your knees wobble as the pleasure rolled through you. Your hands on the sink was the only thing that saved you from showing him what he’d done. 

“You love that don’t you?”

JB already knew you did, but he wanted to hear you. He needed to hear you say how much you loved feeling his hand leaving its mark, red and angry, on your skin. 

“Yes,” you gasped. “It feels so good.” 

He landed another smack and you couldn’t keep yourself quiet anymore. Your moan loud and aching like your pussy. Luckily, his hand was still on your throat and silenced you by placing his fingers in your mouth. You sucked on them immediately and this time you could feel JB rut against your ass. The hardness of his cock pressed against the fabric of his jeans gave away just how turned on he was at your bathroom escapades. 

He pulled his fingers free from your mouth and, with the same fingers, slick and wet, placed it between your legs. The two digits moving to slide between your folds. First, scissoring around your clit; caressing the delicate bud until you gave him the moan he worked for. 

When the soft sound left you JB slid them deep inside you causing the noise to become louder. A shudder ran through your body as you backed up into him. 

His fingers removed themselves suddenly, and you couldn’t keep the disappointment from escaping you. A whine you were sure sounded like you were close to tears. JB gave your ass another smack and all it did was drive the need inside you closer to madness. 

His hands planted themselves onto your ass and you felt him kneel down. Those two strategically placed hands lifting up the flesh there leaving your pussy exposed and aching in his view. Your hands were gripping the porcelain of the sink so tight you’d thought it’d crack. Your body trembling in anticipation of what he might do and the need to cover yourself up playing tug-of-war in your head. 

The idea of any sort of hiding vanished when his mouth planted itself between your legs. His tongue snaking out to flick across your clit made you back up to greet his mouth. JB quickly took that moment to slide his tongue from clit to ass. The sensation was so foreign and new to you, you weren’t sure if you should be embarrassed, but the pleasure you got quickly washed the thought away. 

JB gave you no time to pull yourself together. His face was back between your legs with an eager tongue to lick up every last drop. His tongue swirled around your clit and sent light flicks when you were least expecting it. Each time your legs threatened to crumble, but JB held you there with steady hands.

His tongue explored you thoroughly and put to his memory what made your knees weak. What caused a soft mulling sound of need to claw up from your throat. And what caused your grip on the sink to become almost violent. 

Between each languid lick his tongue would find itself taking long strides all the way up and back down to your peak. Your body had now grown accustomed to the new sensation, and you welcomed it greedily as you pushed back against his face. 

When JB knew you were so close to your sweet release he focused his tongue more on your swollen bud. Each new caress of his tongue gradually made it harder for your arms to hold you up. For your legs to keep from shaking uncontrollably. 

Your orgasm continued to grow; blossoming between your folds with an ache that your body felt. You were so, so close and with a final thrust of his tongue you felt your world spin and that sweet heat between your legs finally sent shockwaves all over your body. 

You came moaning so loud anyone else would’ve thought you were screaming. Your head thrown back and riding the sensation of his greedy mouth taking everything you had to offer. 

When his lips finally released from you, your body was still coming down from your orgasm. The loud panting that came from you as you leaned against the sink completely spent. You watched in the mirror as he pulled a golden foil packet from his pocket. His eyes sinfully watching you as he ripped it carefully with his teeth. JB’s finger moved quickly to take out the slick rubber from the packet and begin to work it down his shaft. 

You’d been so consumed with recovering from his tongue that you hadn’t realized when he’d taken his cock out of his jeans that were now shameless at his ankles. He put a few fingers inside your wetness that caused you to gasp. Your body was still recovering from what had just taken place. 

He used your cum to lubricate himself and placed himself at your entrance. Already the tip of him stretching you out with the delicious sting that told you he was thick. You couldn’t wait. 

You moved to push back into him to help him inside and he pulled away. His hand smacking down on your ass making you even more eager. 

“Patience is a virtue.”

He tried to be funny, but his voice was deep and throaty with his own lust. You were close to pleading with him again like before, but he let it be known quickly he had no intentions to wait. 

JB slid inside you and you felt your pussy stretch to accommodate him. The feel of him making your breath catch. His girth much thicker than you’d imagined, and your body shook from the pleasure of feeling yourself stretch around him. 

His thrusts started off slow until he knew you’d had enough time. His hands found an anchor on your hips and used them to pull you in to meet his hips. A string of curse words fell from your mouth as your hips rocked back into him. 

Each movement felt like he was going deeper. JB’s hands on the cheeks of your ass kept you spread open to him and left no friction to catch his thrusts. Every single one was felt as he buried himself inside you in a rhythmic timing that left you moaning. 

You caught your reflection in the mirror, and glanced over to watch him as he worked. The way his hips bucked up only to be brought down. His hands stationed on your hips and bruising the flesh there as his grip got tighter. JB looked up and caught a glimpse of you in the mirror. His eyes locked with yours as he continued that unrelenting pace. 

He removed a hand from your ass and used it to wrap back around your neck. When he knew he had a good grip, he used it to pull you close to his chest. The angle of him in this new position somehow made him feel like he was pushing into your gut. 

Your mouth opened to make another sound, a moan or a scream you weren’t sure which, when that hand in your throat tilted your mouth towards him. His own came crashing down on your lips with his tongue that tasted of you slipping inside. You eagerly opened your mouth to him, and your tongue quickly moved to get a taste. 

JB deepened the kiss as his hips began to thrust harder into you. The movement building up your orgasm with each brutal movement until it threatened to spill over. 

“You taste so good with me on your lips.”

Your words fell earnest from your lips. You meant every one of them. You’d never tasted yourself so pretty on anyone else’s lips. JB obliged as he took your lips back. His mouth silenced another moan as his last free hand found its way back to your clit. Your body jumped at the added sensation. Your mouth tore away from his as another moan dripped from your lips. 

You were so close. You could fill yourself ready to cum if only he would let you. JB must have been close too, because his thrusts started becoming more violent and sporadic. Hitting in all the right places.

 At the same time as his fingers made small circles around your clit, a singular hard thrust of his hips sent his cock deep inside you. Your vision erupted in a sea of white. Your orgasm sent your body rutting back against him. 

He rode your orgasm and somehow made it grow in intensity as he continued to move his hips. His own breathing going ragged as you felt him finally release into you. 

When you both were able to breathe again, you’d realized you were laying over the sink. JB’s forehead resting on your back as you both struggled to regain your composure. 

JB was the first to move. The first to begin the arduous process of cleaning up. Like a voyeur, you watched him as he threw away the spent rubber and tuck himself back inside his jeans. A smirk creased your lips when you noticed he now had noticeable wet spots on his tee shirt. 

“You know, I don’t even know anything about you.”

You weren’t sure why you made the comment or why it mattered. You’d just had sex with the man in a damn bar bathroom. But JB didn’t seem to mind. His own smile curling his lips as he salvaged what he could of his hair. 

“What would you like to know?”

“Well,” you began as you started to situate your skirt. “What’s your favorite color?”

It was a silly question. By the look on JB’s face, he knew it was, but he humored you anyways. 

“It used to be blue, but I think red might be a new favorite.” 

“Why is that?”

You were wondering where your panties had gone until you spied a bit of the black cloth hanging from his pocket. JB walked over to you in a few steps and planted a soft kiss down on your lips. One that spoke plainly, this wouldn’t be the last time you’d see each other. 

“Because it currently matches the color of your ass.”

JB was out the door and in the bar’s hallway before you’d even got a chance to respond. 

[jjyusmile]

to feel free [social media au] - epilogue

please read under the cut!

pairing: best friend!juyeon x reader

genre: fluff, angst, sometimes suggestive

summary: what happens when your idea of soulmates is corrupted and the fear of losing your soul places walls around your heart?

word count: 1.7k

warning: swearing, mentions of food

taglist: @yeolsbubbles​ @localjisung​ @cgv-kayy​ @elcie-chxn​ @jaehyvnsvalentine​ @s33saw​ @softforqiankun​ @multistan-net​ @lovecn​ @maxiimiliane​ @bbangsoonie​ @younggwingss​ @staysstrays​ @winterbeartaehyungbestboy​

epilogue | main post

EPILOGUE; ‘but what happened’

the way your palms were rough against the handle of the saucepan as the water began to boil. the way your hands shook as you rummaged for the eggs in your fridge, his favourite ramen extra. his.

juyeon.

it was safe to say you were nervous, abundant scenarios flittering through your mind as you imagined his feet scuffling against the stairs as he made his way up. no you weren’t timing how long it took him to wrap his knuckles against your front door. nope. not at all!

but when they eventually did, the looming sound sent shockwaves through you as your spoon clattered on the side.

“just a second,” a shaky breath leaving your throat.

eyes scanning the apartment, you attempted to find something to delay having to look him in the eyes. with everything in place, as usual, you began to scold yourself for even worrying about the way things may seem to him. its usually him making the mess in the first place. memories of noodles being dropped on the floor, red wine threatening to spill over the top of the glass. small reminders of your best friend pulling at the corners of your lips.

you could hear shuffling from outside your door, clearly noting his impatience but caring personalities colliding with one another from the slither of light the seeped in the door frame. he fought the urge to knock again in fear of making you feel uncomfortable.

inhaling a deep breath, your eyes fluttered closed as your still shaking palm reached for the door handle. it was just juyeon. yes, just juyeon. the boy you realised you were unbelievably in love with since you first laid eyes on each other. the dull burn that lit whenever you thought of him began to ignite once again in the pit your stomach. just open the door.

and there he was. like a deer caught in the headlights as you flung the door open, juyeon’s chocolate brown eyes melting into your own like its the first time he is seeing you. the waves on his hair peaking out from under his grey hood, oversized yet hugging his body in comfort. he looked warm, as he always did, and inviting.

who knew how long you had been standing there, eyes flickering across each others faces in fear that this could be a moment that changes everything.

and it was him that broke the silence. “I missed you.”

his eyes were a little glossy, concern washing over them along with subtle hope that he hadn’t crossed the line.

“I missed you too,” another shaky breath, but your words were met with his relaxing shoulders. “do you want to come in?”

he nodded silently, afraid to open his mouth again. when did it come to this? since when did you walk on egg shells around each other?

with acceptance, he shuffled past you, heading straight for the stove to turn it off. “I thought you wanted ramen.”

a soft smile graced his lips as he turned to face you, resting against the kitchen countertop. “we both know that was an excuse.”

he was fighting the urge to come close to you, you noticed by the way his knuckles paled as he clutched to the countertop. so you took your chance, walking closer to him. instinctively, he reached for you, fingers circling your waist as your head met his chest.

his nose pressed against the crown of your head, he inhaled, the light vanilla that lingered from your shampoo flooding him with comfort. and you melted into his chest, unable to stop yourself from nuzzling in. it was as though the last month hadn’t happened.

“I didn’t mean it.” he waited for your body to go rigid, bit you just nuzzled closer. you knew he didn’t mean it. but what you didn’t know was what he was trying so hard to tell you.

“I’ve been trying to tell you something for so long...” he trailed off.

at this, you pulled away, searching his eyes. he was nervous, scared even.

your lips turned up in encouragement, fingers finding his with a light squeeze. he took this as an opportunity to pull you toward the sofa, placing you comfortably as his hands pushed you down by your shoulders; he took his spot beside you. he was far enough away that you missed his warmth already, but close enough for your knees to brush every so often.

with a deep breath, he began.

“what I said that day, it didn’t come out how I had hoped it would. not even because I had drunk my weight in soju...” he paused briefly, fingers fidgeting in his lap, gaze unmoving from the way his fingers knotted together. “... I can’t seem to put into words how I feel.”

“how you feel about what?” an unwelcome shaky breath left your lips again.

it was met with one of his own. until his finally lifted his head to look at you and it was like one of those cheesy scenes in films, where everything around the two protagonists froze in time.

“about you.” this time, your own were glistening. but he didn’t stop there.

“it’s ridiculous, if you think about it. the person I have opened up to for as long as I can remember, the one who knew all my secrets, didn’t know my biggest secret of all.”

you weren’t sure what caused him to reach for your jaw, but suddenly your eyes were fixed on him, unable to look anywhere else as his fingers rested under your chin.

“you know what I’m trying to say, right?” he quizzed.

you couldn’t help it. you knew exactly what he meant. the way his eyes glossed over whenever he was taking in your features, watching you do the things you loved, when he thought you didn’t catch him watching you rather than the film. hints had always been there, you were more afraid that you were reading too far into it. but this time, you were sure you weren’t.

so when your hand placed over his moved to cup the side of your neck, his eyes widened ever so slightly. but the urge you both had fought off for so long was getting harder each moment you realised your proximity; it was evidently the more prominent his breath felt against your upper lip.

you noticed subtle flecks of gold that flittered around his pupils the closer he got, mesmerised by the emotion that swirled alongside them.

“are you sure?” the way his swallowed back the urge to lean in straight away showed, the evident hesitation of crossing the line he had always wanted but knew it might ruin everything.

“yes,” it came out as a whisper, afraid that if you spoke any louder it would burst the bubble you had wrapped yourselves in.

with a quiet “fuck it,” his lips met yours - in that moment, everything crumbled away in its entirety. the fear, the hesitation, the worry that it would change everything had dissipated completely.

there was no hesitation, only certainty as he applied more pressure against your lips. you were wrapped up in each other, pent up emotions pouring through every touch. you couldn’t help the tear that escaped.

“I’m so in love with you,” was muttered between stolen breaths, evoking a low hum from your throat. you pulled away to focus on his gaze, slightly light-headed from the intensity of the kiss.

“I think i always have been,” he murmured, head rested against your forehead, thumb coming up to wipe away the fallen tears.

although the previous kiss had put those words into action, it didn’t stop that fire lighting once more. “I love you too.”

and there it was. the smile you had missed more than anything. the one that formed adorable crinkles around his eyes, causing his nose to scrunch up just slightly. he rubbed his nose against yours slowly, trying to savour every part of this moment. the one he had waited for since you were teens.

but in typical juyeon fashion, he broke the beautiful silence. “won’t hanse have something to say about you kissing other guys?”

he squealed as you stood up abruptly to counter attack his remark, defenseless as you leapt at him, both of you falling into the sofa, you conveniently placed on his lap.

“if I didn’t know you any better, I would claim you planned this.” he shot with a wink, placing his palm against your thigh that rested either side of his.

you reached up to take his cheeks between your fingers, squeezing so that his lips adorned a pout. giggles erupted from you at the sight, leaning in once again for a quick peck.

“there was never any hanse,” you admitted. “we met as friends, and gave each other advice on how to handle our own emotions.”

his adorable face morphed into a cocky smirk as he shot back, “so you used your boyfriend to talk about your real soulmate.” 

the way his eyes lit up as he mentioned soulmates was a sight you could look at forever. “something like that,” you replied, shyly hiding in the crook of his neck. he smelt like vanilla, too. little did you know, he had used to spare shampoo you kept at his place because he missed you that much.

the smirk reappeared earning a smack on the shoulder from you, turning quickly into a tickle fight, your giggles mingling in the quiet apartment.

neither of you had noticed the door swing open until kevin’s screams vibrated off the walls, “MY EYESSSSS”

the both of you were like a deer caught in the headlights.

in the doorway stood your best friends, changmin with his hands covering his mouth in shock, and jacob covering his own eyes, as well as kevin’s. something you’d have to pull jacob up on later.

it wasn’t until changmin lowered his hands from his mouth that juyeon loosened his grip against your thigh. “even though I feel lonely as shit, I am so relieved right now.”

it was only when you felt juyeon snuggled into your neck with soft giggles, his hands resting against your lower back, did it actually feel real at all. 

sensing your slight embarrassment, changmin added “maybe we should’ve knocked...”

[hateswifi]

Duck Season

Don’t ask me about the title go ask @thecaptainthunder also it is they’re prompt.

The Master: Master List

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

“Good morning, class, as I mentioned last week we have a transfer student,” Madame Bustier greets the class, smiling wide as if it weren’t a Monday morning. Damian rolls his eyes, avoiding anyone who looked like they wanted to talk and headed up to the back corner desk, where no one was sitting. 

It didn’t take long for someone to ignore the social cues he’d dropped because there stood a tan, green-eyed girl.

“You should come sit with me, the class bully sits back here and you don’t want to get mixed up with that,” the harlot says, batting her eyelashes. 

“I’ll take my chances back here,” Damian grumbles back, but once again she doesn’t take the hint.

“Lila, you’re in my seat,” another, sweeter, voice says. The harlot’s smile falters before she retreats down the stairs to stew in anger in her seat.

“You’re late,” he reprimands, looking at the apparent ‘class bully’.

“Welcome to our class, I’m Marinette, the class president,” She smiles, it doesn’t reach her eyes, she’s faking it.

“So class bully and president? Interesting mix.”

“Interesting assumption,” Marinette shrugs, pulling out her classwork. He raises an eyebrow and does the same, who does she think she is to talk back to him.

Needless to say, their relationship didn’t start out the best but it got better.

“I can’t believe they’re such imbeciles,” Damian breaths out, an almost laugh, Marinette thinks to herself. Damian has been in the class for a week now and absolutely hates and loves the class. He hates how stupid the class, but again loves the class because of how idiotic they are.

“What’d she say this time?” Marinettes sighs, sliding into her seat. This was becoming a routine almost, she sits down right before the bell rings and usually has enough time to hear Lila’s amazing stories from Damian.

“It was a classic Jagged Stone story,” Damian sighs.

“I literally know Jagged, and they know that I know him, but yet, in the beginning, I was ‘too jealous’ and now they won’t even listen to anything I say,” Marinette shrugs.

“You know Jagged?” Damian asks, raising an eyebrow.

“That’s not important, they can look up any of the information she says without having a personal contact, now shhh, class is starting,” Marinette says, ending the conversation. She avoids talking about herself, almost as bad as he does. He doesn’t mind it too much because she doesn’t appear to be a threat, but yet again appearances can be deceiving.

A month into the hell that is his class, he ran into her during one of the many akuma attacks. She had just run into a closet he was running for, he was a bit worried about her because Lila likes to take action during the chaos. He was expecting to see some cliche scene of Lila corning her, but when he opened the door, there stood the Parisian hero.

“What the actual--” He was cut off by her quickly butting in.

“Oh my god! You can’t anything, I have to go, but-”

“I understand, go fight,” Damian says, effectively stopping her rambling.

They had an awkward conversation after her and Chat Noir defeated the akuma, she picked him up and dragged him to a secluded roof away from the public prying eyes, and the numbing idiocy of the class.

“So another way you knew she was lying is you’re Ladybug,” Damian says as soon as they touch down.

“I would’ve known it without being Ladybug, seriously a foreign girl comes in announcing that she’s best friends with a hero but she's been in the country like three days tops, it’s pretty obvious,” Ladybug huffs, dropping her transformation. “Why’d you follow me into the closet?”

“Ehh Lila likes to come up with lies during the chaos, so if you had an alibi I thought it would be helpful,” Damian shrugs.

“Aww, you care about my well being,” Marinette coos, nudging him.

“You’re bearable,” Damian mumbles, a hint of warmth spreading across his cheeks, must be the afternoon sun.

“That’s the nicest thing I’ve heard you say since you transferred,” Marinette points out.

“That doesn’t matter, now let’s leave,” he says, standing.

“You really want to go back to class?” Marinette asks, standing as well.

“No but I don’t want to sit in the sun, so let’s go somewhere else. Are going to get us down?”

“Sorry, I can’t at the moment, but we can climb down the fire escape,” Marinette says, rubbing the back of her neck.

“That will do,” Damian says, easily moving down the escape. 

“Can we stop by my house real quick I want to grab a sketchbook, if that's ok with you,” She asks, pointing at the bakery that’s just down the street from the school.

“You live above the bakery?”

“Yeah, you hungry?”

“No, I don’t like sweets.”

“Your loss then,” Marinette shrugs, entering the back door. She appears a couple of minutes later, putting cookies in her purse. He raises an eyebrow but doesn’t question it. They walk over to the park and sit under a tree in the shade. He just sits in the shade and lets sounds of the birds singing, the breezing leaves, and the light trickling water take over his sense. It was a bit later when he hears her start humming if it were practically anyone else, he would’ve snapped at her to stop it, but her humming was calming.

He honestly should’ve seen it before he responded. It was a month after the revelation of her being the Parisian hero. They were walking around the Seine near evening after the defeat of another akuma and another day of drama with the harlot and sheep. Marinette had leave early due to the akuma and he was left to deal with the idiots by himself 

“What’s the matter?” he questions. 

“Oh, sorry, I have a lot on my mind,” Marinette says quietly. He steps in front of her and lifts her chin.

“What’s on your mind?” She looks up at him, his breath hitches in his throat, her eyes are glistening in the sunset.

“I… I don’t want things to change, but,” she pauses, taking a deep breath. “I really like you, you’re kind to me, even though you don’t try to show it and-”

“Enough,” Damian cuts her off, she stands in front of him, vulnerable. She’s trying to distract her self by rolling a rock underneath her foot. “If you don't want things to change, then don't change them.” He responds sternly. 

“Umm, ok, I’m sorry, I’m just going to go home then. Umm! Good night!” She says, swinging her head up quickly, just enough to see her eyes glistening with tears before she turns her back and she rushing home. 

“Why’d I say that?” Damian asks himself he watches her back and she rushes down the sidewalk. He has a strange urge to follow her, to pull her into a hug, and to, strangely enough, apologize for making her cry. “What’s the matter with me?” He sighs and agrees to talk to her tomorrow morning before class, as normal.

But that wasn’t the case, she slid into her seat just after the bell rung. Not only was that different, she was wearing make up, not enough for a majority of people to notice, but he knows her well, and her smile doesn’t reach her eyes again. He was going to try and talk to her during lunch, but conveniently Agreste calls for her attention as the bell rings before he could get a word out, they’re already out the door.

He feels weird, he knows he shouldn’t he also doesn’t understand why or what that feeling is. His feelings have been pretty abnormal since he got to know Marinette. When he met her, he hated her, but honestly, he hates everyone he meets so he didn’t expect to end up not hating her in the end. She was different than anyone he had ever met, she was kind, without knowing who he was, her smile was contagious. She beautiful but was humble and wasn’t a harlot like other women who had attempted to his attention.

“Grayson, I have a problem,” Damian says, sitting down in the library to eat his lunch in peace.

“What’s up, Birdie, you never call me,” Dick asks.

“This girl said that she likes me.”

“It’s not the first time, you’ve never had a problem rejecting girls before what’s up?”

“She’s my acquaintance.”

“So you like her? What's the problem?”

“Like her?”

“Do you have romantic feelings for her?”

“Explain.”

“Do you like it when she’s around? Is she apart of your life and it feels like a piece is missing if she’s not there?” 

“But that could be platonic as well.”

“It could be, but do you ever have urges to hold her hand, if she is crying to wipe away the tears, or to hold her in a hug?” (I had no idea how to write this btw, almost asked for help but imma too awkward)

“She cried last night and all I wanted to do was hug her and apologize,” Damian sighs.

“You were going to apologize? She must be special.”

“She’s fantastic, a literal angel,” Damian sighs, slouching in his chair to look at the ceiling. “She takes care of and loves animals. She so good with kids, even with brats.”

“Talk to her, I’m sure she’ll understand,” Dick says, there a banging being him. “Sorry, I gotta go, Jason just walked in.” he says before hanging up.

“Talk to her?” Damian mutters to himself. “Do I have feelings for her?” 

He heads back to class early, hoping to talk to her before class. There was one problem, she didn’t show up for afternoon classes along with Agreste. 

He decides that he’ll take the work and notes to Marinette. He enters through the bakery, they had stopped there a couple of times before to pick up stuff sometimes a sketchbook and sometimes a snack. Sabine and Tom recognized him and let him in. He knocks on the trap door and hears a come in, he pushes it open and sees Agreste and Marinette in their pajamas, playing a video game.

“Agreste, Marinette,” Damian says, stepping into the room.

“Damian?” Marinette asks, turning surprisingly pale pretty quickly. 

“I brought your stuff and I wanted to talk to you,” Damian says, rubbing the back of his neck, looking at the ground.

“Ummm… sure, Adrien can you give us a minute?” Marinette says, standing up from her spinning chair.

“You hurt her again, I’ll cataclysm you,” Adrien says, opening the trap door before disappearing underneath.

“Umm first, here’s your stuff and notes,” Damian says, handing her them. “Another thing, I’m going to guess you noticed, but I’m not good with emotions in general.” 

“Yeah, I kinda figured.”

“It took me a bit, but I talked to my brother today,” Damian pauses, taking a deep breath.

“Where’s this going? I don’t want to get hurt again,” Marinette says, taking a seat of her chaise.

“I didn’t realize it before I talked to Grayson, he’s my brother, but I like you. I missed you in class and I don’t ever want to see you cry again. I want to be able to you without it being weird,” Damian says, rubbing the back of his neck, looking anywhere but her.

“You like me?” Marinette asks, standing up.

“I hate the fact that I made you cry, I never want to see sadness in your beautiful blue eyes ever again. You’re too good for me, you are an angel,” Damian says, taking a deep breath.

“I’m just me though,” Marinette says, looking at the ground. Damian steps forward, tipping her chin to look up at him.

“And you’re perfect,” Damian says, Marinette reaches on her tiptoes and kisses his cheek.

“And you owe me for playing my heart, I honestly thought you didn’t like me and I had a mini-crisis,” Marinette giggled.

“Would you like to go adopt a hamster?”

“That’s perfect if we can her name her Fluffy,” Marinette smiles.

“We’ll talk about the name,” Damian chuckles.

“I’m open to a discussion,” Marinette shrugs.

Bonus:

“I just had the weirdest conversation,” Dick says, hanging up his phone to look at Jason.

“What’d ya mean?” Jason asks, plopping down in a chair across from Dick before slouching to put his feet on the desk, taking a bite from his apple with a solid crunch.

“I think Damian in love,” Dick says, causing Jason to choke on his apple.

“What the fack did I miss?”

Bonus Bonus:

“Remember how Damian was in an emotional dilemma,” Dick asks, entering the dining room.

“Damian has emotions?” Tim asks, throwing his coffee back like a shot, or maybe it was a straight-up espresso shot, Dick wasn’t really paying attention. 

“Yeah, not the point, not only does he have a girlfriend they have a hamster named Nightingale. Probably so Bruce can’t try and turn her into a bird,” Dick says, muttering the last bit.

“Hey I wouldn’t adopt Damian’s girlfriend, give me some credit,” Bruce says, taking the phone to look at the picture.

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

@mlbchaosqueen is this angst?

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[heavymetalover]

Call Me Daddy (Michael Langdon x fem reader)

{i imagined scruffy sojourn michael w this one but i left the description kind of open so yall can imagine whichever teehee}

Summary: Michael is about to become your step dad and the two of you have an unusual relationship…

Warnings: DADDY KINK DUH, smut, dirty talk, fingering, vaginal sex, dom!michael, hickies, rough sex.

WC: 5.5k

A/N: ive done the unforgiven… omg.

this is a different format from my other stuff. i didnt see anyone doing this and yall know me and my daddy issues I HAD TO. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE anon me, message me, whatever, if you want more parts cuz im down.

~~~~

 You had an average run-of-the-mill life with your mom. The two of you lived in a sizable suburban Los Angeles estate; your mom worked for most of her waking hours to keep you comfortable and you worked your ass off to stay in your top college. You had a few friends that would pop into your life when your mom left town, a few boyfriends here and there, even your mom dated around. Everything felt normal until Michael came into the picture.

Your mom has been dating Michael for a few months now, but every time he’s around he brings an eerie feeling along with him. Despite being nearly half her age, he has the soul of somebody from the eighteen hundreds. The way he composes himself, how he speaks with the utmost confidence and how his stares linger too long; his glacial blue eyes always watch you like he can see right through your clothes. 

You’ve been skeptical of him since the day you met him. When you shook his hand and accidentally removed one of his large rings, he nonchalantly told you to keep it. You decided to sell the huge diamond-encrusted Cartier ring and use the twenty thousand dollars to help pay for college.

Since then you’ve avoided the two of them in protest of their relationship. You knew it was juvenile to evade them, but the man turned you on more than you’d like to admit. His soft-waved blonde hair, fluffy lips, jawline for days, prominent cheekbones, and how can you forget the eyes… Everything about him looked planned, like he was designed to be flawless.

On a mundane weekend morning, your mom calls you from downstairs. “Y/n!” her voice echoes through the halls.

You stop reading your favourite book and take out an earbud. “Yeah?!” you yell back, looking up from the pages for a moment and waiting for her to say something else, but the house is silent. You pretend to ignore her call and go back to the story.

“Y/n!” your mom yells again.

You sigh and drop your book, rolling off of your bed and skipping down the stairs to see what fresh hell awaits. As you approach your mom, who’s opening her mouth to call you again, you smell something unusual. Something you haven’t smelt since your dad left. Cologne.

“Honey, he’s here,” your mom whispers to you, putting a hand on your shoulder. You try turning away to run back to your room, but your mom stops you. “Can you be nice for once, please?” she begs, squeezing your shoulder.

“Whatever, let’s get this over with,” you groan and shimmy her hand off of your shoulder.  

Michael works at the dining table, setting up three plates and utensils. You’re planted to the ground in awe, you’ve never had to eat dinner with the two of them before. It crosses your mind that they must be confronting you about bypassing them these past few months, your fight or flight response is already kicking in.

Michael looks up at you, finally acknowledging you and capturing you in his ocean blue eyes with a nanosecond of contact. Your mom moves in between the two of you and takes some food out of a paper bag. “Michael and I wanted all of us to eat dinner together,” she skips to stand beside him. You widen your eyes at her and cross your arms in objection. She widens her eyes back, you can practically hear her nagging you to be polite.

Michael puts his arm around your mom. “Your mother and I thought it best for us to… start acting like a family,” he says.

Your eyebrows shoot up and you can’t hold back your smile. “A family?” you laugh. You purse your lips and start walking backwards, aching to escape Michael’s spell. “Mmm, I think I’ll pass,” you turn around to start walking away.

“Y/n,” your mom snaps. You stop in the middle of a step and twist back towards them, taking small, reluctant steps to approach their little function. “We have something to tell you,” she says and immediately after, vaults her hand out to you.

You take it hesitantly and look at her, still trying to figure them out and failing. “What?” you ask.

“No, honey, look at it,” she rolls her eyes, “look at my hand.”

You gawk at her hand, her third finger is dressed in a huge diamond ring. It looks big enough to pay off your whole house. You unintentionally let out a dramatic gasp and drop her hand, she continues to hold it up for you. “It’s the bloodiest diamond he could find in the LA area,” she explains, “We’re in love.” She smiles and places her hand on Michael’s chest, looking up at him with hearts in her eyes. He gifts a small kiss on her lips.

You scoff and shake your head. Any tension that you felt from Michael has dissolved. He’s been dating your mom for five months, five fucking months. Who does he think he is? Are they both nuts? “You’re joking, right?” you ask, completely stunned by how brash the whole situation is. “Are you guys pranking me?”

Michael grins at you, it makes you melt and you hate yourself for it. “Call me daddy,” he sneers.

----

It’s a quaint Wednesday evening when you decide to take a break from studying and grab a snack. You’re scrolling through Tumblr when you walk out of your room and smash your face against a sturdy chest. “Jesus!” you gasp, looking up at Michael standing in front of your door; one of his hands is in a fist, ready to knock on your door, while the other is behind his back. “You scared the shit out of me!” You playfully push his chest away from you, trying to shake off the sudden rush of adrenaline.

He drops his fist as he stumbles back slightly. It’s the first time you’ve talked to him since they announced their engagement. Michael moved in about a month ago and it’s been hard to ignore him since he sits, day in day out, typing away on his laptop in your living room.

“Sorry,” he apologizes. “But I have to admit it’s nice to hear your voice again.”

You lean against your doorframe, trying to act casual as if he hadn’t just knocked the wind out of you completely. “Did my mom come home from work or something? She send you here?” you ask, declining his attempts to meet your eyes, instead you stare at his lapel.

“No, I got you something,” he explains, wiggling the surprise behind his back.

“Another Cartier ring?” you joke. “Oh, or is it a new girlfriend? Because that would be even better.” His eyes find the ceiling in annoyance and it feels rewarding, you were starting to think he couldn’t be cracked. “Did you get me an apartment, so I don’t have to live with another failed marriage?”

“No,” he snaps back, starting to sound impatient with your infantile attitude. You straighten up at his belligerent tone. He slides into your room, keeping the gift hidden behind his back. “It’s thoughtful, something I know you’d like, but… if you’re hellbent on loathing my existence, why should I be so kind?” he asks. He somehow manages to speak reserved, yet impossibly intimidating. Every word that leaves his lips demands to be heard, it sends chills down your spine. “Right?” he prompts.

You take in a breath. “Right,” you force yourself to agree, mostly because you’re curious to see what the present is. Another part of you is getting bored of acting like a hermit and going days without social interaction. “Obviously it feels weird; I barely know you and you’re becoming my dad and you moved in, everything just seems so fast,” you explain yourself. You saunter back into your room to meet him. “I’ve been a bitch. I’m sorry, Michael. Seriously.”

He takes a step closer to you, you’re only inches apart. You can feel the heat radiating from his body and fight the urge to wrap your arms around him. “We’ll work on ‘Michael’ later,” he replies. You’re about to question what he means by that when he takes the present out from behind his back. He holds a black bag in between the two of you and you immediately recognize the store. “I heard you on the phone with your friend about something red, lacey, with a bow. I think I found it…”

You take the Victoria’s Secret bag from him without saying a word. You have no words to say. You don’t know if you should thank him or refuse the gift or slap him for listening to your personal conversations. Your mind races wondering if you’d gossiped about his good looks on the phone with your friend.

You silently pry open the bag and paw through the lingerie, mountains of cute panties and bras, digging through things you were never able to afford but always wanted. And, of course, Michael bought the red, lacey one piece you were talking about with your friend. There’s a stillness in the room as you look through the bag. “You bought all of this for me?”

“Yeah, I can’t see how your mom would fit into any of those.”

All of the pieces are just your size, it’s the perfect gift… just not from your stepdad. “How did you even know my size?” you stop looking at the bag and make the mistake of falling into his eyes.

“I went through your clothes,” he carelessly shrugs.

You drop the present by your side. “You went through my clothes, like, my lingerie?”

He slowly nods his head, acting as if it isn’t strange for him to invade your privacy how he did. You huff and he begins looking agitated with you again. “Would you like if I returned all this stuff? I thought you’d like it.”

“I do,” you mutter and kick the bag away from him, you’re not jeopardizing this gift with your uncontrollable sass.

“Good,” he spits back.

“Just… don’t think you can just buy yourself into the family,” you mock. You catch yourself subconsciously crossing your arms over your chest to give yourself a breast lift, but you don’t stop.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he smirks. He looks down at your cleavage and it feels like all the air is sucked out of the room. “You have quite the collection of lingerie you keep hidden at the bottom of your drawers,” he observes, “like a dirty guilty pleasure.” You peer up at him, again trying to read him, and again failing. He uses one of his fingers to hook onto the thin fabric of your shirt, your tits are practically pouring out and begging to be the center of attention. He tugs at the fabric, looking under your shirt and inspecting your boobs suffocated in one of your intimate Victoria’s Secret pickups. “Kitten’s all dressed up?” he whispers, his fingertips graze the embroidered details.

You bite your lip, anticipating the second he’ll rip the bra off your chest. “It’s all for you,” you tease, pushing your tits together even more, “I’m always dressed up for you, Michael.”

He breathes in, groaning under his breath. “I thought I told you,” his voice is low and intimidating, “call me daddy.”

You’re drinking in a breath of his cologne, shifting onto the tips of your toes to give his soft lips a rugged kiss, when the sound of keys rattling downstairs takes you out of it. Michael still stares at you, his fingers continue to linger over your clothed tits. “Michael!” your mom calls from downstairs.

You look up at him with fear in your puppy dog eyes and Michael grins. He shoots you one last, knowing, glance before leaving your room. He leaves you without saying two words. “Yeah, babe,” he answers your mom, closing your bedroom door behind him.

What the fuck just happened?

----

Holding back your gags, you grasp your friend’s hair as she projectile vomits peach schnapps into an expensive toilet bowl. Her phone rings in her pocket and you huff, digging through the pockets of the leather jacket you lent her and pulling out a vibrating iPhone. You pick up the phone with an ill “hello”, answering too late and looking down at the screen. She must’ve ordered an Uber a while ago, there’s a ton of notifications that the driver’s outside. “Oh shit,” you mutter under your breath. “Your ride is here!” you yell at her, trying to pull her onto her feet.

“What?!” she yells into the toilet bowl.

You roll your eyes and lean down beside her ear, “I said, your ride is here!” you yell over the thumping music.

Your friend stumbles around, trying to stand up in her six-inch heels. You pull her onto you and her head rests on your shoulder, she goes limp against you. “Stop, come on!” you shout over the music. “You have to g-”

You’re cut off by your friend puking onto an expensive mini dress you bought for tonight’s party. This shindig was supposed to be a fun little escape from your school life, your home life, Michael, all your stress. You expected to make new friends, meet hot guys, but instead you came an hour late and have been nursing your friend the whole night. You’re seriously going to kick her ass tomorrow.

“Sorry,” she mumbles, her breath reeking of throw up.

You toss her arm over your shoulder and start walking her out of the bathroom. “I’m going to kill you tomorrow, you know that?” you say in her ear and she lets out a small, apologetic whimper.

A cute guy who was talking you up earlier approaches the two of you. He holds two red cups in his hands and shrugs when he sees you. “What the fuck, y/n? You disappeared on me!” he talks to you over the bass-y music. “I got our drinks!” he shakes the cups in his hands and hands one over to you, as if completely ignoring your drunken friend hanging off of your side.

Your friend staggers, nearly bringing you down with her. The cute guy helps you pick her back up and you sigh, annoyed at how much of a disaster your night has turned into. He knits his eyebrows at your sour attitude, then finding the vomit on your dress, he looks back up at you. You see his doe eyes grow apologetic when he mouths a weak “sorry” to you, stepping out of your way. You shake your head as if telling him it’s fine; you just wish you had more time to get to know him.

You continue dragging your friend along your side and hear someone call out your name from behind you. You whip your head around; your hair irritatingly sticks to your lip-gloss. “Hope to see you again!” he calls after you. You nod in his direction and resume walking your friend, who is nearly passed out on your shoulder, to the front door. When you walk out of the house, you’re assaulted with the smell of salt water. Despite this night turning into one of the most frustrating nights of your life, at least you got to visit a Malibu beach house.

A big, black SUV is parked outside of the house and you rush her to the door. Opening the backseat and stuffing her inside the seats in the back. “The app says where you’re taking her, right?” you ask the Uber driver, your voice sounds muted from being struck by loud music all night.

He nods and reads out her address. “Y/n,” your friend slurs, gripping onto your arm with all her strength, “you’re a really nice… you’re a… you’re a really good friend, you know that? Like, seriously,” she pauses to hiccup, “thank you for taking care of me tonight.” Her words are so slurred that it’s nearly impossible to make out her compliment, but you just nod in hopes it’ll get her to let go. She drops your arm and hands you your pricey leather jacket, bunched up in a ball, before shutting the van door.

You throw on your jacket, protecting yourself from the ocean’s breeze, and watch the van drive away when you notice a familiar car parked across the street. The SUV blocked a four-seater Maserati parked on the other side of the road. Michael’s sedentary in the driver’s seat with a cigarette hanging from his lips. You balance yourself on your ridiculously tall heels and stomp over to his car. He doesn’t even see you coming, he’s leaned back in the driver’s seat reading a book.

You crouch down and knock on the glass of his window. His eyes meet yours for a second and he slowly rolls down the window. A mob of cigarette smoke escapes the car and he chucks the stick onto the pavement. You’re both quiet for a few moments, the crashing ocean waves fills up the silence.  “How did you know I was here?” you ask.

He finally puts down his book and looks at you. “Just trying to be a good dad,” he responds.

“Ugh, ew,” you groan. “You’re my step dad.”

He adjusts his seat to start driving, his eyes looking you up and down as he does. “Looks like your night went a little… rough,” he jokes and nods towards the puke on your dress. “You need a ride?”

You look back at the party. As much as you wanted to live up the night, you’re already in too much of a bad mood to go back in there. It doesn’t help that your new dress is covered in puke, too. You turn back around to Michael, he awaits your answer with a cocked brow. “You can’t tell mom,” you sigh, walking around the car to get into the passenger’s seat. The luxury car’s butterfly doors obnoxiously open up for your entry. “Not a word,” you assure him as you slide into the leather seat.

He starts up the car and one of his Led Zeppelin albums begins to play. “I picked you up at the library,” he quips.

He starts driving along the empty coast and you decide to skip the seatbelt, you don’t want to dirty his car with your friend’s retch. His eyes glance over to your seat for a moment, he notices you second guessing the seatbelt and puts a hand on your thigh. You look up at him and intuitively try to tempt him, biting your bottom lip and batting your lashes. “I’ll protect you if we crash,” he whispers, his fingers lightly caress your thighs.

You put your hand on his and slide him further up your leg. He keeps one hand on the wheel, eyes on the road, but when his eyes do meet yours, it makes all the nerves in your core feel like a wave pool. Your dress is short enough for him to reach your panties without any hassle. Your hand is on his when his fingers begin to rub your pussy, still dressed in a pair of panties he bought you. “Baby’s already wet for daddy,” he says under his breath, kneading your clit in small circles.

You feel your stomach erupt with butterflies, you’ve never felt a nervousness so intense before. A rush of thoughts suddenly violates your mind, you try to shut them up but they keep coming. This is wrong. You shouldn’t be doing this. You’re disgusting for enjoying this. His fingers have been in your mom before.

You dig your nails into his skin and pull his hand away from you; bending over in your seat and clutching onto your stomach. You only had one drink tonight, you shouldn’t be feeling this sick.

“I-I’m sorry,” he stutters, “are you okay?”

“I think I need air,” you grumble through the sudden sickness. “Can you pull over?”

Michael only takes a minute to find an empty parking lot on the beach and pull into it. You get out of the car without saying a word to him and take off your heels, throwing them into the backseat of his car. You’re already starting to feel your anxiety subside as you shuffle through the cool sand and pace towards the erratic waves crashing on shore. This is one of the reasons you loved LA, the tons of tiny, empty beaches. The ocean at night, and how it constantly smelt like salt water, how it relaxed you.

The breeze blew through your hair, a part of you felt like running into the crashing waves, but a voice took you out of it. “Y/n!” Michael called behind you, over the sound of the whistling wind. He trudges in the sand to get to you; you faintly snicker at his dedication. “Are you okay?” he asks once he’s closer to you.

When you see him, face glowing in the moon light, golden locks blowing in the ocean breeze, face twisted with concern, it all settles. Everything feels like it’s in the right place. Your stomach, although still turning with butterflies, no longer feels sick.

There’s a pause between the two of you; both of you deciding to admire each other instead of the beautiful ocean view beside you. Then, it feels like everything clicks. Like the two of you mentally communicate your longing for each other, your desire. Both shutting your eyes and diving in for a kiss at the same time.

His lips smash against yours, sucking your face, and his tongue quickly invades your mouth. He kisses you like he’s craved your lips for years, passionately cleaning up your mouth with his eager tongue.

Michael works your jacket off of your shoulders and you shimmy it to the ground. He unzips your dress, the zip running along your naked back sends a shiver crawling down your spine. He abandons your lips for a moment to pull down your dress, exposing your bare chest and expensive panties. You’re too lost in lust to even realize you’re half naked on a public beach.

You’re both panting and releasing all of the built-up sexual tension. He stands back up and kisses you again, his hands cup your ass and he gives an echoed smack; his fingers creep down your legs. He grabs onto the back of your thighs and hoists you up, you lightly yelp into his mouth and wrap your legs around him. His large hands hold you up and he leans down, resting you onto the jacket you’ve thrown onto the sand.

Once you’re laid down, he begins rubbing your pussy again. His cold rings adding a different sense of pleasure as he rubs you into entropy. He slides your feeble panties to the side and spits down on your cunt, shoving his finger inside you. You moan at the sudden intrusion, taking in a breath of the salt-scented air. “That’s it, baby girl,” he whispers, adding in another finger, “I want to hear you moan for daddy.”

You take in a breath and whimper as he curves his fingers inside of you, slowly pulsing against your g-spot. He touches you as if he already knows which parts make you crumble. “Ooh yeah, daddy,” you cry and grind on his fingers, pushing him deeper inside you, “right there.”

“You’re my dirty little slut, huh?” he asks, gliding in another finger. Your eyes roll back in pleasure. “Little girl likes to get fucked by her daddy?” He adds another finger, completely stretching you out. Your breath gets caught in your throat and you can’t reply. “I asked you a question.”

You meet his cold eyes for a second, before you throw your head back in pleasure. “Yes!” you breathe out, feeling the heat rise in your body. Your sensitive cunt throbs under his gluttonous fingers, persistently fucking you and begging for more. “Yes, oh, keep fucking me just like that, daddy!”

His fingers find a rhythm inside of you, constantly bringing you to the brink of climax and slowing down. “Such a dirty little girl,” he teases and spits on your soaking cunt. He pulls out his fingers and holds them to your lips. You grab his hand and suck on his long fingers, tasting the cool metal rings mixed with the sweet taste of your pussy.

You sit up and lock your lips with his again. Both, you and Michael, unbutton his shirt; you want to feel his flesh against yours as soon as possible. When you get to the bottom, you slide your hands up his body and square the shirt off of his shoulders. His perfect, porcelain skin shines in the moonlight. You want to appreciate it for a moment, but he’s already unbuckling his belt.

He’s propped on his knees, unzipping his black pants and bringing them down to pull his erection out of his briefs. It springs out when you start grabbing for it, he moves back and clicks his tongue. “My greedy little girl,” he mocks, “you don’t get a taste until daddy says you do.”

He pushes you down with one of his hands. His touch is so delicate, yet so commanding. Everything he does is done with conviction and a power that only you could dream of, he is inherently dominant over you. He strokes his long, girthy length over you, you’re practically drooling at the sight. He spits on himself and rubs it into the head. “Spit on it,” he orders.

You sit up and weakly spit on the tip of his cock; it’s too late when you notice your mouth is dry from nervousness. He shakes his head. “You’re so pathetic, you can’t even spit on me right,” he sneers, divorced from the nasty words leaving his lips. He presses his dick against your folds and your fingers curl into your jacket, awaiting the moment he plunges into you. “Say the word, baby girl, say you want me,” he’s lingering at your entrance.

“Please,” you whine, your pussy is beating against his hard cock, “please dad.”

He pushes his head inside you and you grab his arms for support, digging your nails into his skin. He’s so thick, you’ve never felt something so large obtruding your tight cunt. He moves in slowly, reading your stunned facial expressions to see if he should continue stuffing himself inside of you. You let out tiny weeps as he digs deeper into your hole, but you can’t manage much more.

Michael thrusts himself into you until he’s balls deep, even he can’t help but groan. “My little girl is so fucking tight,” he grunts under his breath. He starts to hammer himself into you, going so deep that you feel like pushing him back, but you can’t bring yourself to do it. His cock is so thick that it hits every nerve you could imagine; it’s hard to gather a single word.

He lets out a small chuckle at your reticence. “My innocent baby’s never felt a real cock before, huh?” he taunts, still pounding his length into you. You open your mouth to speak, but settle on shaking your head. One distinct tear runs down the side of your face while stifled cries pass your trembling lips with each time his balls smack into your ass. “You’re taking me like a good fucking girl,” he admires, “my good little slut.”

He lifts up your leg and rests your foot on his shoulder. You’re twisted onto your side, trying to look over your shoulder to see how vigorously he pounds into your cunt. Michael’s new positioning hits exactly in your g-spot, you feel your leg shaking under his grip. “H-holy shit,” your voice trembles, you let out a built-up breath. “Keep going, daddy! Right there, right there, I’m so close,” you’re begging, voice is flooded with desperation. You don’t care how childish you sound, you want nothing more than to come all over Michael’s big dick. “Don’t move, please, please,” you grab onto his arm again.

Tears overflow your eyes when you look into his. Just seeing his determined light blue eyes peering back at you makes you unravel even more. He has no remorse for how weak he’s making you, how vulnerable you’ve become, his unmistakable dominion turns you on.

He listens to your wails, finally granting you the satisfaction you’ve been begging for and plows into your g-spot. Your grip on him gets tighter as he thrusts harder, you’re almost certain he’s going to leave some swelling deep inside your cunt. “Your dick is so, fucking, good,” you breathe in between thrusts.

Michael doesn’t give up, keeping up the same pace and fucking you exactly how you want him to. You’re about to praise his long cock some more when you’re thrown into climax. You try looking back up at him, but you can’t say a word; your mouth hangs wide open with nothing but small chokes croaking out. He can see how dazed he’s made you and shoves your face into the ground, pushing your nose against the leather of your jacket. “You’re going to take daddy’s cock like a good little girl,” he seethes, suffocating your head into your jacket. “Don’t come,” he demands.

He continues punching your g-spot with his huge cock, you feel your pussy spasming under his rough thrusts. He holds both of your arms back, shifting you into doggy-style. His balls slap against your sore clit and you feel yourself starting to ejaculate. “Fuck!” you scream into the breeze of the empty beach. Your cunt twitches and gushes its balmy juices all over Michael’s hard cock.

He slows down his pace and pulls your arms up towards him, you feel his heaving chest against your back. “What did I just fucking say?” he fumes, tugging your arms even closer to him. “Answer me.”

“You told me not to come,” you answer in a syrupy, naïve voice.

He grabs both of your tits to push you flush against him, maintaining his rough thrusts into your cunt. “That’s right,” he whispers in your ear, “baby didn’t fucking listen.” He smacks your tits with both of his hands, striking you hard. You jump at how ruthless he hits you, it makes your stomach flutter again. His full lips lug along your neck. “Remember who you belong to,” he speaks into your neck, sending an iciness throughout your entire body.

Michael digs his teeth into your skin, sucking up your flesh while he continues massaging your breasts, pinching at the hard peaks your nipples have formed. He sucks so hard it stings, you wonder how that would feel on your pussy. His love bite begins to hurt and you shift your head away from him, he snickers. “Who do you belong to?” he whispers, lips chafing the shell of your ear.

He pinches your nipples even harder and you sob in pleasure. “Mmm, you,” you respond, looking over your shoulder to give his lips a frail kiss. “I belong to you, daddy.”

He takes in a deep breath as if shaking off your spell and regaining his confidence. He pushes you onto the ground again and goes back to fucking you like a ragdoll. “You better remember that,” he breathes, mercilessly pummeling himself into you again.

He holds both of your arms back once more, driving himself into you so hard that you’re concerned about cervix bruising. His pace slows down a bit and you look back at him, his mouth drapes open and he stares down at the back of your head. He pushes you away as he orgasms, savagely shoving your face back into the ground, as you feel his warm seed spilling inside your wet cunt. Michael groans from deep within his chest, letting out a long sigh when he’s done. “Oh, fuck,” he moans, “fuck, you sexy bitch.”

You let out a little giggle at this and he joins. He hauls himself out of you and you feel all of your muscles relax. You shift onto your back, looking up at Michael in disbelief. You’re too caught up in euphoria to comprehend what just happened. All you can think of in this moment is how fucking good he was. Even Michael has a dumbfounded look on his face.

He shakes his head and liberates a nervous laugh, “We’re so fucked up.”

You can say that again.

[heartbreakgrill]

Anyone Else; Calum Hood

You leaned down over Calum’s shoulder, blocking out the bright sunset behind the two of you. He inhaled, reveling in the coconut scent of your shampoo, fused with sunscreen and chlorine-d pool water. He shook his head lightly, reminding himself to open his eyes and focus on the phone in his hand. You lifted your free hand, that wasn’t cradling a White Claw, and pointed at a profile.

“She’s super cute! I feel like she’s your type,” you commented at the picture of a taller girl, sporting fishnets and a Led Zeppelin.

“You think I’m only into girls who like rock?” Calum chuckled a little.

You shrugged, moving away to tug over a free camping chair. You leaned back in, giving Calum the view of your neck as your hair fell away from it. He licked his lips as you spoke again, “I mean, I think you look good next to someone like that based on how you dress and shit. If you’re not into that, dont let me pressure you.”

You giggled and twisted around to look at him. His eyes focused in on yours, “Uh, yeah. Or, no, youre good. Youre not pressuring me. Just helping, right?”

“Right,” you scrunched your eyes in a beat, to show you were somewhat confused by his confusion. “Anyways, swipe right or left and lets move along.”

“Okay.” Cal did as you said, allowing the screen to switch to another girl.

“Oh, no, no, she looks too much like Crystal,” you giggled lightly. “Love Crystal, but that’d be creepy.”

“So I can’t like anyone who looks like anybody in our friend group?” Calum remarked, his heart hoping you wouldn’t break it by what you would reply with.

You wriggled in your seat, “I dont know. I feel like its weird. If they look like Luke, Ill allow it.”

His lips fumbled before his brain could reach out and grasp the words and shuffle them back into a drawer, “What if they look like you?”

“Yeah, right,” you looked back at him, “I’m unique. One of a kind, baby.”

Calum flushed as you spoke. He fumbled again, about to spill again, when Sierra called your name from the pool. “Show me that boy from last weekend?”

You quickly got up, excusing yourself from Calum, and pranced across the concrete patio to the fire pit, where Luke and Sierra were cuddled up, talking to another one of your friends. Calum tried not to break his neck and watch you animatedly talk about your Tinder date last Saturday. Yet he knew it was noticeable he was trying to pry.

He felt a hand slap down on his shoulder and Calum jumped in his seat. Michael took your seat, Crystal trailing along behind and slinking into his lap. “You got it bad, mate.”

Crystal grinned at him, “You really do.”

Calum shook his head, “Dont know what youre talking about.”

“Oh, my God,” Michael pressed his fingers to his forehead, eyes cartwheeling in their sockets. “Seriously, I never understand situations like this. I dont think it’d ruin your friendship if you asked to kiss her and she rejected you.”

“It wouldn’t,” Calum remarked, speaking the honest truth. He shifted in his seat, glancing at you before meeting Michael’s eyes. “But it would ruin me. And I dont really want a broken heart right now.”

Crystal’s eyes widened and she leaned forward. “Cal, is it worse than we thought?”

“Worse?” Michael furrowed his brows, looking between the two before realization hit him like chance. “Oh, shit. Dude?”

Calum stood suddenly, tossing his empty beer can in the garbage. “I’m going home. See ya later.”

He didn’t give them the chance to say anything else as he gathered his damp towel, shoes, and bag from around him. He passed through the kitchen, waving lazily to Ashton and Kay, who were preparing the food for s’mores.

“Not staying?” Ashton called after him.

He heard Kay mutter something else to him and Ashton shocked a small, “Oh.”

You finished telling the story of Matt, who you had gone on a date with last week as Calum was pulling out of the driveway. “Yeah, but I don’t know if I’m going see him again.”

“Why?” Luke asked, puzzled by the fact that you sounded like you were really interested in him for the past five minutes, but didn’t wanna go on another date.

“I dont know,” you crossed your arms. “He’s just not my type. He’s kinda, like, stern. He’s funny, but funny in an unconventional way. He doesnt seem like he’d, I dont know, be playful in a relationship. Does that make sense? i want a guy who can be playful, but who’s mature.”

Sierra grinned to herself, nudging Luke with her elbow. “Yeah, that makes sense. Hey, ya know, Y/N?”

“Hm?” You looked to her.

Luke took over, “We know someone who’s like that.”

“Oh!” You smiled wider, “Who?”

You felt Michael slink an arm over your shoulder, whisper in your ear, “Calum.”

You moved from under him, his weight overbearing to you. “Yeah, okay.”

“What’s wrong with him?” Crystal sat on the couch across from Sierra.

“Nothings wrong. Hes just super out of my league. Plus, I’m not his type. I’m all, strawberries and picnics and, like, Hozier. He listens to Nickelback and he’d rather go to a club than kayak. I dont know, I feel like he wouldn’t like me because of my interests.”

“Cal’s a softer, you know that, right?” Luke replied. “Hes a big rockstar, yeah, but he loves hiking and nature, too.“

“He loves y- ow!” Michael groaned out, Crystal interrupting him with a shove to the ribs.

You gave him a strange look before looking back to Luke, “I know, but still. He’s still out of my league.”

-

The weeks passed, more pool parties and barbecues filling your lengthened free summer days that you weren’t working or going on sporadic Tinder dates. You’d been on five total, with four different guys. Each party brought more stories, more tall tales of Derek, the free lance artist who wore a scarf and ordered you red wine, Gideon, the police officer who hadn’t put his career in his bio, and got slightly upset when you talked about your advocacy for human rights. Spencer was just weird, with piles of facts, criticizing your jokes for being politically incorrect or scientifically impossible. However, Aaron was nearly perfect. He was super sweet, dressed like a normal person, and laughed at your jokes, agreed passionately with your advocacy.

Each time you retold a story, Calum would slide down in his seat, frown at the world around him, excuse himself from the party too soon. You were catching on slightly, smelling the jealousy seeping from his pores, though it was masked by chlorine. You figured he was just jealous because he couldn’t manage to match with a good enough woman on Tinder. So, tonight- though you had to leave early for a date with Aaron- you would most definitely find him a match.

Calum had arrived early to Luke’s house to get the meat started on the grill. He was flipping a few burgers, sipping at his first beer with absentminded concentration. His mind wandered as Luke rambled off his ear about something he saw on Twitter. Luke laughed at a joke he made, while Calum’s eyes lost focus and went blurry. His thoughts swirled with you- your shampoo, and its coconut scent that reminded him of his first crush in middle school. Your eyes were seen in so many, so similar, yet freckled with so much heartbreak and kindness that emitted from your soft spoken lips and light hands that had contact with the stars.

He didn’t care if he would look better next to a girl with jet black hair and a perfect body. He didn’t care if they played bass, too, or if they were famous and loved The Rolling Stones. He didn’t care if she was hard headed and loud. He liked that you were soft and quiet- he was, too. He loved that you dressed so different; your floral patterns went well with his dark jeans t-shirt combos. He didnt care about things looked, just how they felt. And things with you...Hell, you felt good.

Calum jumped as Luke shouted, “Youre burning the burger- Cal!”

Calum dropped his beer can, spilling the liquid all over his bare feet as he grasped for the spatula. He tossed a burnt burger into the trash with a huff, scooping the others onto a tray. “Sorry.”

Luke shook his head, sitting down beside Calum, who was dipping his feet into the water to clean them off. “What’s your problem, mate? You’ve gotten so quiet lately. Especially when Y/N’s around.”

“Part of me is hoping I’ll be able to fight the urge to kiss her if I just stop talking to her. But, then she comes around and i cant stop talking to her. We get on so well,” Calum murmured, though Luke could hear.

“Yeah?” Luke urged him, feeling proud he could get Cal to say so much. He was a quiet person, a loud jokester in social situations, but so soft and enclosed about himself.

Calum shook his head, huffed, “I cant settle for somebody else. I know that sounds selfish and stupid, but she’s all I want. She’s all I’ve wanted since i met her. She’s so perfect and good and...she makes me feel good. I dont know. Its not impossible for her to like me back, but she’s so obsessed with the idea of someone being her type. Its like she’s afraid to just take a chance and love someone who she doesnt have figured out. She wants it all to be certain and specific and exactly the way she expects it to be.”

Luke sighed, creating small ripples with his feet in the pool, “Cal, Y/N is like a literal angel. She’s gentle and quiet and contained and confirmed. She’s perfect, like you said. But, Sierra knows her so well. She keeps herself like that because she’s been heartbroken before. So many times before. She’s scared, yes. But I think shed be willing to give you a chance if you just tell her...tell her exactly what it is.”

“What do you mean?” Calum already knew everything about Y/N. But, he didnt want Luke to think he was obsessive even though she knew everything about Cal, too.

Luke shrugged, both of their head’s turning to the patio door as it opened. “I dont know. But, you do. Just tell her.”

“How will I know if I’m saying the right things?”

“You just will.”

Sierra led you over to a lounge chair, sitting beside you as you slipped out of your sandals and tugged off your shirt. You were left in your bikini top and shorts, a combination that made Calum’s heart palpitate. He took the courage from Luke’s words and stood, walking over to you.

“Yeah, so if he ever wants to...” Sierra trailed off as Calum’s shadow fell over the two of you.

He gave you a shy smile as Sierra grinned and excused herself.

“Hey, Cal,” your lips lifted, eyes following him as he sat next to you. “How’ve ya been?”

“Good, you?” He was shy. He knew you could tell, too. His eyes kept switching between yours and his hands, your lips and...

“I’m okay. A little burnt out. Work has been busy because its summertime. High fashion and stuff, ya know?” You laughed, jabbing at a joke. Your eyes glinted when Calum tossed his head back and laughed.

“Yeah, I know, dont you see my high-end swim shorts?” He made a motion to show off his pants, and you admired him.

“Cute,” you replied. A beat of silence passed before your phone made a noise. You didnt touch it, knowing it was rude to do so, but your brows flicked up. “Oh! Have you matched with any other girls on Tinder? If you haven’t, I’m making it my mission to find you someone else.”

“How am I supposed to think about anyone else?” He blurted out suddenly.

You stopped smiling, blood freezing and your body turning stiffly. “What?”

“Uh,” Calum thought, wondering how he should go about this. “Theres a million little things I haven’t told you. I cant go on keeping them to myself. And pretending I want anyone else.”

You met his eyes and Calum felt the world melt away. Like a focused lens on a camera, he only saw you, your golden little halo. Your shocked expression.

“Cal,” you hesitated, “Aaron.”

“Is he the guy you want to hold you?” Calum whispered.

You visibly shivered, your heart beating out of your chest.

“It kills me thinking of you with him,” he paused, “you and i could have it good. I dont know him, but I know myself, and I know that I can love you so much better than he could.”

You shook your head, sweat pooling on your hands and the back of your neck. “No, Cal. Please. Dont make it hard.”

“It’s not hard unless you make it hard,” Calum spoke as soon as you began to stand.

“No, its not supposed to be hard. I want it to be easy for once,” you said.

Calum grabbed your hand, turning you back around, “It is. I know were so different, and I’m on the road all the time, and I’m fucked up because of people from my past. I know I smoke, and you help clean up cigarette butts in the park and I’m silent when I shouldn’t speak, but if you jump, Ill jump, too. C’mon, please?”

You finally met his eyes, feeling the rhythm of your heart steady. “I know its dramatic, but I’m just so afraid. So many guys have hurt me and made me feel ugly. I carry myself in a way that allows protection and routine. I hate the idea of some disturbance because disturbance has always meant hurt. Cal...i could love you. I think I’m very close to loving you, but i dont know if i can let myself.”

“I do love you, and I’m letting myself,” Calum stepped closer, tugging you to close the distance more. “Just let go.”

With silent permission, his hands slipped around your waist and your clutched his t-shirt. Your fists were tight, your lips stoic. Until you felt a lock pick inside your soul and you relaxed.

TAG LIST: @mantlereid @boxofteenageideas

, @dinosaursandsocks , @ashhdaniellee95 @zhangyixingxing1

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Cosmic {1}

Lewis Tan x OFC Jupiter Azari

Warning: Plot, Cursing, Flirting, POV Changes, Fake Social Media Inserts

Words: 4k

Summary: Lewis has been single for three years after a stifling relationship that ended because of his reluctance to make a strong enough commitment. In that time, he’s focused on his career and living his life to the fullest. His goal was to have worthwhile experiences and make lasting connections. He’s got the experiences part down, but he’s never felt any sort of lasting connection until he’d seen your posts. After months of stalking your Instagram, he can’t stop thinking about you and decides to take a chance. Maybe it was time for him to take a chance on something new. 

Note: *Sigh* Another one, I know. *Deeper Sigh*. I apologize for the blurriness in some of the FAKE IG DMs. I’ve been working on this for so long, and finally, I can post a little something for it. Please tell me what you think. I am so excited to hear your thoughts.

Thank you guys so much for reading!!!! If you enjoyed this please LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG. 😊❤️❤️

***Loosely Edited/ Proofread***

***Interactive***

***Fake IG Post Creations***

-Lewis-

 He’d been single for a long time now. Three years. He’d been in a serious relationship for twice as long, so the math was right to him. There was no lying that he missed some of the advantages of relationships and having someone to journey through life’s ups and downs with. He missed things such as intimate dinner dates, entwining his fingers with someone else’s and relishing the feel of skin against skin, getting to know someone almost as well as he knew himself, and deep, fulfilling conversations. One of the most significant things he missed was companionship.

He knew he was not an unattractive guy. He also knew that being who he was, he could meet people effortlessly have a series of no strings attached romances where his physical needs were minimally satisfied for a short time. That was not a problem, but he’d long realized that was never enough for him. He needed more—a lot more. His busy schedule didn’t help matters at all, either. He was either on a flight every week or going between fight practice, meetings, filming, and a lot more. It took time to nourish a relationship and mold it so it could blossom into something strong and beautiful, time he just didn’t have. It was a simple fact—or so he thought.

 More and more, he’d been feeling as if maybe he could make that time; maybe he could find a way to have the highly sought after satisfying professional life but also that deeply fulfilling personal life. Maybe it was possible without having something or someone fall to the side. He began to think maybe he was ready to address his other needs.

 Groaning, he looked at the clock beside him. Two o’clock. Rolling out of bed, he walked into his bathroom. The day before was a long one; he hadn’t gotten in until nearly three in the morning. This was the first day in several that he’d been able to get more than seven hours of sleep. His body was telling him something. After tackling his hygiene routine, he pulled on a pair of his athletic quick-dry leggings and shorts then made his way to the back of his beach house.

It was another beautiful day in Spain, and he was ready to carpe diem the hell out of it—after he got his jog in. As he ran his standard four miles, his mind wandered to a variety of topics. He ran down his schedule for the next few days, went over his goals for the month, and made mental notes of things he needed to get done for the week. He believed in discipline, and the utmost show of discipline was having some over one’s life. Perhaps it was something he learned from his father as he trained in martial arts, or maybe it was a life lesson he’d picked up after so many years in the industry, both working and associating.

 By the time he plopped down onto the cool sand, almost two hours had passed, and he was sweaty and out of breath. He panted while gaping at the softy rolling waves and the faint sounds of the seagulls. It was a sight to be seen, one he was appreciative of. As he was getting lost in the view, a reminder popped up on his phone.

 *Social Media update*

 Sighing, he opened up his Instagram account and scrolled through his feed. If he didn’t set reminders for himself about social media, he would forget it entirely. He was one of those people who preferred to live life unfiltered and didn’t see a need to blog or vlog every little thing. He liked to share meaningful things. On the other hand, his team made it a priority for him to do more than share meaningful things. Their motto is if you’re not being seen or talked about, your brand and existence are inconsequential.

 So, four times a day, he had reminders set up. The plan was to engage with his fans while showing his personality. His agent’s exact words were; “Show the world what a swoon-worthy guy Lewis Tan is.”

 Just as he clicked over to his drafts, he registered her face. Quickly he tapped back onto his feed and on her recent post. It was an incredibly artistic photo of what could have been the universe, or even the mind’s third eye, or possibly a woman giving birth. It was just that subjective, but it was done in a way that made it seem as if you were looking through a kaleidoscope. He sat there marveling at the first photo, not even realizing there were three more that accompanied it.

 As he swiped through them, his mind was further blown. Each one gave off a psychedelic vibe. When he got to the last one, he found himself sighing out at the sight of her. The caption was,  “Art is subjective; who do you see?” Her face was one that easily held someone captive. Her eyes were impossibly deep and inviting. They drew him in, in a haunting and mysterious way. Even her username was creative as fuck. JupiterFallingToEarth.

 He’d spent weeks following her activity. She posted every day about once a day, sometimes two, and her posts ranged from artistic shots of landscapes, items, herself, and then she also posted products and fashion. It was clear she was a lifestyle blogger, and according to some of her posts, she was probably an influencer of some sort. There was something about her that drew him in from the first post he accidentally came across. That was four months ago.

 Since then, he’d practically stalked her page. The second he got a notification that she’d posted something, he was looking at it soon after. When he saw her stories, they always put a smile on his face. She was effortlessly adorable and sexy at the same time. It was a contradiction but one that you wore well. He didn’t know if he’d turned into one of those guys he’d seen countless times on Instagram. The ones who stalked a woman’s page and liked every single one of her posts and left vague comments under her pictures that could come off as creepy. He feared he had turned into that man.

 His interactions with her hadn’t gone to creepy lengths. He’d liked most of your posts, never commented because gossip was a real thing in his world, but liked other people’s comments under your posts. Sometimes he’d even tune in if you were on lives, and every time he watched, he was always filled with an urge to know you—really. He wondered if you’d even noticed he’d liked your pictures or if you’d gone to his page from curiosity to get lost in his content. One thing was sure; you’d never liked any of his posts. He’d noticed.

 “Get a fucking grip, man.”

 To help him on his way, he dropped his phone in the sand and ran to the waves hoping the water would do the trick. The coldness of the water shocked him, but it was a welcomed shock. Swimming further out to sea, he fought against the tide. Though he was exhausted, and his limbs were damn near numb, he pushed himself for just a little longer.  

 Ten minutes later, he dropped back onto the sand by his belongings while trying to catch his breath. That swim had his adrenaline surging competing with his exhaustion. Grabbing his phone, he went back to his drafts. Rather than posting one of them, he took a few shots of himself as he was dripping wet and all. Deciding on a relaxed-looking one, he prepped it to post. Before he did, though, he added a caption.

With it posted, he hopped to it. After a quick shower, he was off to tackle the day. On the agenda were three meetings for some brands that wanted him to work with them. The first up was a local Spanish sunglass brand, Vosotros. Throughout the meeting, he could tell that the campaign that they wanted to do was centered around bodies. Since the brand translated to the word “you,” their pitch was why not focus on everyone’s best selling feature—their body. It was a bit shallow for him, but the product was nice, and the pay was equally as appealing.

 After signing the contract, he moved to the second meeting. This one was for a couture men’s wear brand, Alma. This one he was familiar with. He’d worn many of their suits. They were comfortable but stylish and made from the best fabrics. He always felt like a million bucks when he wore them. This one was a no-brainer for him, and the compensation was the icing on the cake.

 Right before the third meeting began, he found he was running a little bit empty. The last time he’d had a meal was the night before. Before the meeting started, he pulled out his phone with the intent to figure out what was nearby so he could refuel once the meeting was finished. Once he saw the notifications, he opened up Instagram just to glance at them, but after scrolling through the eight thousand, among them, he found her name. Thinking he’d seen things, he scrolled all the way back to the top to refresh it, then scrolled back down, and sure enough, there it was.

 She’d liked six of his posts back to back. He couldn’t stop the wide grin that spread across his face. It was so broad that anyone would have thought he’d never gotten a like in his life. He spent the next few minutes going through which posts she’d liked. Each one made him smile wider and wider. By the time the prospective employers walked in, he was refueled enough to carry him through the rest of the day.

 ~~~~~~~~~~ 

-Y/N-

You’d finally bit the bullet. After four months of seeing the notifications on every one of your posts that he’d liked it or liked a comment under; it was about time. Right? The truth was you noticed each of them. The first time you got the notification, you almost fell out of your seat. You knew who he was because you’d seen one or two things that he’d been in and always thought he was hot, but of course, it was in passing. After the second notification of his like, you rushed to his page to go through each of his posts and found yourself salivating over every picture.

 After about half an hour, you got snapped back to your senses. The odds of it being him were slim to none. While you knew many celebrities liked to troll social media for their next piece of ass or entertainment, you never got that vibe from him. You deduced it must have been either a fan page or catfish at its best. So what did you do? Ignored it.

 You ignored every notification and did your best to shrug off the basal instinct that had your belly fluttering. In total, you had nearly two hundred posts, and he’d liked each and every one of them. It was a lot of ignoring. Today though, something came over you, and that something had you going to his page to see his new post. You couldn’t do anything else but stare. The truth was your finger slipped to tap the heart, and once you did, you tapped it again to unlike, but you knew once a like went through, you couldn’t take it back. Your only option was to deal with it. You dealt with it by liking five more of his pictures. Go big or go home, right.

 After ten minutes, you were still lamenting over if you should have or shouldn’t have. The internal conflict in you was high, especially when you began to kick yourself for overthinking it. There was no way it was really him. It was impossible. With that in mind, you calmed yourself enough to meet up with your friends. After pressing mute on your notifications, you proceeded to get yourself ready. It had been a good week since you and your friends had gotten the opportunity to hang out due to your busy schedules.

 When you were more than halfway there, your excitement began bubbling. When the four of you got together, it was always a good time. As soon as the Lyft dropped you off at the restaurant, a new construction that all four of you were dying to try, you were more than ready to eat, drink, and laugh. You stood outside for a few moments to admire the chosen exterior décor. It was an intricate mix of modern and seaside charm. It definitely was something different for the neighborhood.

 Walking inside past a line of about twelve or so people, you marveled at the entrance of the restaurant. Whoever designed it truly did a fabulous job. It was featured in the papers as one of the best new restaurants to try out in the downtown area. The way they’d incorporated indoor plants seriously captivated your attention.

“Welcome to Creator, my name is Kenji,” began the host who towered over you by like eight inches and bore green-hazel eyes. He was cute. “Do you have a reservation?” His smile was wide, and it showed off that his two front teeth were bigger than all the others. He made it work, though.

 “Yes. I believe my party is already here. I’m not sure who it’s under, though.”

 Kenji scanned the list of names on the iPad before her. As he did that, you scrolled through your texts to find the details that Zoë sent you. After a few short moments, he glanced back at you. After you found the reservation name, you rolled your eyes. Your friends thought they were funny.

 “Found it?”

 “Yes, and I apologize in advance,” you began. Kenji, the host, wrinkled his brow, not getting it. He would, though.

 Clearing your throat, held your head high, then spoke. “Punani Dasani.”

 Kenji’s eyes widened, then he pinched his lips tightly before he nodded and tapped a few keys on the iPad.

 “Wow. Eh-em. Yep, they’re here.”

 Nodding, you dropped your phone back into your clutch. When you looked back up, you caught Kenji’s eyes glued to your cleavage. When his eyes met yours, the embarrassment in them was obvious. Dipping his head, he signaled for you to follow him.

 The two of you walked through the restaurant under low hung plants, vines, and flowers. It was like walking through the garden of Adam and Eve. That must be what the owner had in mind when naming it Creation. It was clever, you thought. Just then, Kenji approached the table with your three friends. Once they saw you, they made a loud “Skeee” sound bringing the attention to those nearby. You couldn’t take them anywhere.

 “You guys think you’re funny with the reservation name?”

 They all laughed at you as you dipped down and greeted each of them with cheek kisses.

 “How did he look at you? From the way he keeps looking back, I can bet he wanted to sample that punani Dasani,” Tati joked to each of their delight.

 They were a trip, always had been. You, Tati, Monaè, and Zoë had been friends since high school and somehow managed to remain tight even though you each went your separate ways to different colleges. You each had spent two years apart until you came back together to finish your final two years of university together.

 “Don’t be mad. He wasn’t that cute anyway,” Monaè said, opening the menu before her.

 Cold-hearted, you thought as you did the same. Dinner progressed with laughs and stories of your days and recent happenings in your lives. As you ate, you decided to forget everything else and just enjoy yourself. You were in desperate need of a girl’s night, so you vowed to enjoy it fully.

 The food was delicious. Somehow they’d managed to make it taste healthy but also savory and completely indulgent. You felt as if every bite you took added thirty pounds, but you knew it wasn’t possible. The flavors all melded together so well that you wanted to send a message to the chef, letting them know they’d done well.

After a deeply fulfilling meal, the four of you piled into a Lyft and made it to your favorite club, Surge.  The music in the club was so loud that you could feel it bouncing inside of you. After getting your first round of drinks, the dancing began, and when the four of you got together with drinks and music, it was always an event.  You jumped into the middle of your circle and busted out your wine. Tati grabbed your phone from your hands and began recording you. Ignoring the camera and the gathering crowd, you allowed the alcohol to do its job and take you away.

 When you heard your friends cheering you on, you decided to really bust out your moves. Dropping to the floor, you did your best twerk. Holding your drink in the air, you began to wine your hips as you stood. It was one of your favorite moves. When you turned around, you saw Tati up close and personal. Slapping your hand in front of the lens, you giggled as you took your phone back to end the recording.

 “Jesus girl, those hips definitely don’t lie,” Monaè teased, making all your friends laugh.

 From behind, you felt someone approach you and place their hand on your waist. Turning, you gave him the rays of death with your stare telling him to back off. As quickly as he’d had the audacity to put his hand on you, he took it off just as quickly and backed away.

 “And don’t come back,” Zoë shouted.

 By the time you made it back home, it was three in the morning, and your feet hurt almost as much as your ass did. After leaving the club, the four of you had an impromptu photo shoot that lasted almost forty-five minutes and ended with you on your ass at the bottom of the pile once you’d tried some ridiculous cheerleading pose trying to relive your high school days. Big mistake.

 After a quick shower that had you almost falling asleep a few times, you dove into your bed, ready for some well-deserved rest. Just as you’d gotten comfortable, your phone’s alarm went off. Groaning, you reached over the edge of the bed, grabbing your bag to rifle through it. With your phone in hand, you blearily stared at the harsh light making your eyes feel as if they hadn’t closed in days rather than hours. You went to your alarm to turn it off, deciding that your routine dawn photo expedition would have to be rescheduled. You were too exhausted.

 Just as you were going to toss it away, you saw the notification of messages on Instagram. Your curiosity got the better of you, and you slid it down to get a preview. Through the blur in your eyes, you saw an icon that looked familiar. Tapping it, you nearly swallowed your tongue when you saw Lewis Tan’s image. Bolting upright, you coughed and slid to brace your back on your headboard.

 “What the--!”

The minute you saw it, you couldn’t believe your eyes. He’d send you a message. Chewing your bottom lip, you studied the time he’d sent it—over four hours ago. You then realized he’d see that you saw it, and you debated in your head if you should reply.

 “Jesus, get it together. Just say something simple,” you coached.

It was weak, but it was the best you had. You wondered if he would think it was weak too. As you obsessed about that, you also realized just how late it was. You’d responded to a DM at booty call hours. Rolling your eyes, you slouched back on your headboard. Your eyelids were heavy, and they drooped, trying to tell you something. Once they closed, your phone chimed that elaborate tone for your notifications.

Why had you responded? It was clear this was some fan page who either was using his image to catfish or gain followers. You never responded to questionable DMs, and this was as questionable as they got.

Even though you were still fighting your sleep, part of you was intrigued.

Flipping your smart TV on, and you turned to the Netflix app and found something for background noise.

Nibbling your bottom lip, you thought for a few moments. You didn’t know if it was the alcohol that had you thinking this deeply or if it was something else.

You snorted and shook your head. “He’s really going down with the ship, huh.”

This was always the reaction when anyone found out your name. They were always shocked and speechless. Usually, you got a few corny jokes or mentions about your favorite planet must be Jupiter or bring up some astronomy fact that was always wrong. It was annoying. You braced yourself for some equally corny mention from him.

The corny mention never came.

Your heart fluttered, and you couldn’t help but cheese from his compliment. You hadn’t expected it. Though you tried to stop smiling, you couldn’t. There was something about his words. It wasn’t like you’d never heard sweet words before. You had. This shouldn’t have been any different.

The exhaustion began to take a more significant hold, and you slid lower, tucking your comforter underneath your chin.

Filming? What the heck was he talking about, you wondered. He was really taking this shit a little too far.

You bolted upright again. Was he seriously going to take this that far?

He was insane, absolutely mental. You were so damn ready to end this. One thing you hated was dishonesty. You especially hated being toyed with.

There was no way that he could prove it. What was he going to do?

He thought you were an idiot. He must have. Your anger was rising.

Rolling your eyes, you tossed your phone beside you. You knew the chances of him passing this test were slim to none. You couldn’t believe that you’d given up the last thirty minutes of sleep for this. Groaning, you dropped back down, determined to drift away to sleep. Almost two minutes passed before you heard your chime again. Fighting the urge, you turned to your side, trying your best to ignore the fact that you knew he’d sent something.

After two minutes of curiosity killing you, you flung your hand back, grabbed your phone while flipping onto your back. You held your phone above your face, opened the app, and there he was.

Your jaw dropped, and your eyes drank in every inch and rippling ab. Jesus, you thought. As you were bringing your phone closer, you didn’t register that a video call was coming in. without even realizing it, you answered, and the same image you’d been looking at moments ago was now live. The only difference was the frame wasn’t as low to show his incredible abs. It cut right at his chest, giving you a peek at his dark, dusty rose nipples. You were utterly frozen. He smiled and raked his hand through his hair before he bit onto his bottom lip. It was Lewis fucking Tan.

 “Enough proof for you?” He smiled, and that was when your phone slipped and fell right in your face.

 “Fuck, owww!”

 The pain was so strong you were tearing up. Rolling to the side, you rubbed your face, then searched for your phone. When you got to it, the video call had ended, showing you your home screen.

 You began to freak out. “Oh my god, oh my god! What the fuck! What the fuck! What the fuck!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[inkribbon796]

My Favorite Human Ch. 2: I Want YOU in This Custody Fight

Summary: It’s not a date if you argue about the kids in front of the restaurant staff.

Chapters: 1, 2, 3

Chase tried to dress nice when he came to this building. It was one of the fancier restaurants under Dark’s control. He didn’t have a whole lot of nice suits but he did have a white button-up and a black vest. But that was as far as he got.

Dark never seemed to mind either way. After all this was strictly business. They’d talk about the twins, and then Chase would leave. The Entity would offer for Chase to order something from the menu, “on me”, and the marksman would always turn him down, even before he first glanced at the menu.

After he’d seen the menu he was determined to never order anything from this place because it was way too much for anything.

But the view . . . the view was amazing. The restaurant was situated by the river and so at night it looked amazing. Dark was always in a private business room, to make sure their conversations couldn’t be easily overheard by errant patrons.

As Chase walked up, sans superhero outfit or mask because he didn’t want his meetings with Dark getting on the news at all, a waiter led him right to Dark.

When Chase walked in he had his usual crisis, his feet stopping and a weight settling in his heart. Dark had his back to him as he looked out into the city.

Chase got his feet to work and he took his usual seat.

Dark sighed when Chase sat down, “I heard what happened.”

“Mori and Tempus think he’s better now, least he’s not runnin’[1] around naked in the woods anymore,” Chase reported. “I think Mem got most ‘a[2] it out ‘a[2] his system.”

Dark clicked his tongue. “I don’t know what’s gotten into him, at least the others don’t have to be watched so some random hiker wouldn’t get attacked.”

That got a chuckle out of Chase, settling a bit in his chair. “Really? I find that hard ta[3] believe.”

“Arthur was a bit of a handful but at least he could be contained to his books. He didn’t actively seek to become chaos itself.” Dark’s fingers drummed casually on his desk.

“Prolly[4] could have cut him off beforehand if I hadn’t been on patrol this mornin’[5],” Chase’s eyes tracked over as a waiter came in to bring some wine for Dark and a water for Chase, he was braced for a random attack. It was mostly out of habit — because of Clubs — but still trained all the same.

Dark’s aura circled around the rim of his wine glass. “Yes, Illinois commented the same.”

The Entity’s aura hummed as he thought, he twisted the base of glass with two fingers. “I was thinking that perhaps the problem is not that they need constant supervision, it’s merely that they’re bored and they do the first thing that comes to mind.”

“Not sure how I can help with that ta[3] be honest,” Chase admitted.

Dark paused to take an especially long sip of his wine. “It has occurred to me that perhaps if they spend a bit long thinking about the ideas they have that maybe they would make wiser decisions. They are very young spawnlings, and there is a certain impulse that such young demons only have when they have never been threatened and feel safe in a territory.”

“Really?” Chase smiled. “Yeh[6] were impulsive back in the day? Would’a[7] loved ta[3] see that.”

Looking away, Dark took another sip, “No, I made Egoton into what it is today so I would not have to waste my time finding a new territory every couple of decades.”

The smile didn’t fade from Chase’s face quite yet. “So yeh[6] got any plans fer[8] the twins, err, boys.”

At that mistake, the smile did drop and Chase was glaring out the window for a full second or two. “Yeh[6] got any plans fer[8] the boys?”

“A couple,” Dark mercifully ignored the slip up. “My first option was to just stick them with Illinois, he’s more than mentally equipped to corral chaotic spawnlings. But with the wedding coming up, I figured . . .”

Dark trailed off, waving his hand dismissively, “Best not to leave the responsibility with Illinois.”

Chase felt the urge to say something, but he didn’t even know what that something was, so he kept quiet. He preoccupied himself with wiping down the condensate from his glass.

“Tempus is fine on her own, but if I leave her to them, she’d only mildly protest at whatever they do and then record them, and Wil only seems to enable their destructive behavior,” Dark continued.

“Hmph, that’s Bubbles fer[8] yeh[6],” Chase dismissed coldly. “I think he might e’en be givin’ ‘em ideas.”[9]

“Oh, of that I have no doubt,” Dark agreed, “Tempus too, a couple of their more harebrained stunts have actually been her idea, despite Memento’s insistence that he’s the brains of their operation.”

That got a chuckle out of Chase.

“But that still leaves me with a problem, namely that apart from Illinois or myself there seems to be only one other person who can reason with them, or at least enough that they don’t get themselves into legal trouble. Their minor antics are fine, especially if they can confine it to the Manor, but running around the parks or beaches is getting them into trouble, and getting them noticed by demon hunters.”

“Yikes, didn’t know it was that bad yet,” Chase sat up a little straighter.

“It’s nothing that can’t be handled, but I was thinking, and Kay and Illinois posed the idea themselves, that you could help,” Dark proposed, his expression neutral and guarded. “Since you seem to be the only other person they listen to.”

Chase was quiet, the room was so quiet that he could dimly hear chatter from the other room. He wasn’t exactly sure where this conversation was going. “I’m tryin’ ta watch ‘em, but I still got patrols ta keep up with. I’ve got ta deal with random bullshite that the Duke or Anti cause in the city. I’m still part ‘a the Coalition.”[10]

“The heroes have more than enough people to deal with them,” Dark dismissed.

“Dark, I’ll keep doin’ e’erythin’ I can fer the boys, but I’m tryin’ ta stay on good behavior,”[11] Chase reminded him. “It’s bad enough they’re barely lettin’ me see my other kids, I don’t know what they’d do if I wasn’t bein’ a hero. It’s the only thin’ I got goin’ fer me.”[12]

Dark meant to be reassuring, that Chase was a natural parental figure underneath his poor mental health and self-incriminating bad choices. That they’d made a mistake when Chase was denied his children. But such words required a certain amount of emotional vulnerability from Dark, and the Entity could never allow himself to be vulnerable, even when it was desperately needed.

So the words that came out of his mouth were, “I could make sure there were no problems.”

Chase froze, staring at Dark in alarm. Normally his head and heart were at war. Between wanting to treat Dark like a dearly loved friend, and his head who reminded Chase that Dark was a dangerous, demonic mob boss. Someone who destroyed lives that didn’t suit him.

At this moment there was no discourse.

“What does that mean?” Chase’s tone was terse.

“I don’t see why anyone should have a problem with you seeing any of your children, Anti has not used you as a host in months. He has not targeted you in even longer. The correct people merely need . . . convincing.”

“No!” Chase snapped, surging up so he was away from the table. “Don’t! Just stop right there. Yer not gonna threaten or “convince” anyone. Stacy’s fine. She’s doin’ fine with ‘em. If yeh could get yer fookin’ claws outta Paddy that’d be e’en better.”[13]

“Your eldest has his own goals and if he wants to achieve it through my Network, I see no reason to stop him,” Dark dismissed. “He is an expert marksman who’s time and skill were being squandered on running around with other delinquents pretending to be gangsters. Crime and trouble would have found him if I hadn’t swept in and taken him.”

Chase made some ugly snort that carried his disbelief and offense.

“The four of them are already embroiled in the Network, it would certainly make things simpler,” Dark suggested, immediately doubling down on his point.

“Simpler?” Chase scoffed. “Fer who? I’m not gonna fookin’ sit on my arse until they do somethin’, it’s not like I’ve got anythin’ useful fer yer little crime organization.”[14]

Dark gave Chase a look.

Chase just stared at the Entity in alarm, “No.”

“You denying the very nature of your magic and soul doesn’t make it any less true,” Dark commented, metaphorically shoving his foot right into his mouth.

“No,” Chase repeated a little more firmly. “Fook[15] off.”

“The heroes have had a top marksman for years and yet you are sidelined constantly,” Dark commented. “Even if you’re not killing in my Network your skills would be more useful. You don’t even have to be in the room to do the job.”

“So that’s what this is?” Chase spat. “I’m just some asset fer yeh ta buy?”[16]

In the absence of anything that wasn’t an emotionally charged response, Dark fell silent.

Chase threw his hands up, so angry that there was a very furious grin where teeth ground together, “No. We’ll keep the system we got, it’s workin’[17] just fine.”

The marksman was boiling with rage and it didn’t help that Dark wasn’t confirming or denying it.

“Enjoy yer[18] overpriced steak, Dark, I’m goin’[19] home,” Chase decided, alright turning.

Dark stayed quiet, and when Chase looked back at him he let out a groan of annoyance and stormed off and out of the building.

The Entity didn’t stop him, he was too busy tending to his blue soul who was trying to follow Chase but was stopped because Dark was staying in his seat.

“He’s angry,” Damien commented in their shared headspace, his fragmented soul full of nothing but emotion and none of the social cues that kept those emotions from being acted on. “What did I do?”

“He’s a human, it’s all they do,” Dark’s red soul commented dryly. She was already wanting to leave, fretting about the mountain of work they needed to do.

“We can give him things,” Damien suggested hopefully, looking to Dark for approval.

Why? Dark asked. Is he the man we’ve been sleeping with for decades? Because I seem to remember someone a little more pink and mad. Or am I wrong?

Dark’s blue soul curled in on himself and stopped pulling the Entity to follow after Chase. He was more subdued than he’d been in a while.

It let Dark finally leave and head back to the warehouses to get some work done. And if Damien urged Dark to give little macabre trinkets to the triplets, he only hesitated for a little bit.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Post A/N: Man, if Dark and Anti were half as good at communicating as they were at killing people, all their problems would be solved!

Accessibility Translations:

1. running

2. of

3. to

4. Probably

5. morning

6. You

7. Would have

8. for

9. I think he might even be giving them ideas.

10. I’m trying to watch them, but I’ve still got patrols to keep up with. I’ve got to deal with random bullshit that the Duke or Anti cause in the city. I’m still part of the Coalition.

11. Dark, I’ll keep doing everything I can for the boys, but I’m trying to stay on good behavior

12. It’s bad enough they’re barely letting me see my other kids, I don’t know what they’d do if I wasn’t being a hero. It’s the only thing I got going for me

13. Don’t! Just stop right there. You’re not going to threaten or “convince” anyone. Stacy’s fine. She’s doing fine with them. If you could get your fucking claws out of Paddy that’d be even better.

14. For who? I’m not going to fucking sit on my ass until they do something, it’s not like I’ve got anything useful for your little crime organization.

15. Fuck

16. I’m just some asset for you to buy?

17. working

18. your

19. going

[kareofbears]

plainly in truth, chapter 2/5

“Without you around, it’s sorta like stuff is just kinda…bleh.“

—

Or: hiding, confiding, and misguiding.

read on ao3 or below the cut :)

Yusuke wasn’t too sure if what he was doing was of the right mind, but his heart is definitely in the right place.

There’s a lapse in time between Jails and hitting the road. Everyone is out soaking in the last of Sendai; Ryuji and Akira (and by extension, Sophia) are on a quest to buy any last minute supplies that they might need while the girls and Morgana are taking in the sights that they didn’t quite manage to explore as much as they’d like.

Well, the girls who like crowds and sightseeing are on a quest, at least.

Futaba and Yusuke are in the trailer by their own volition—he didn’t need to see anything else that wasn’t a timeless statue, and he learned early in his life that if you pace your spendings, you can then use that money to spend in the future. Quite the contrary, Futaba has had a little too much excitement these past few days and is more than happy to hide away in her top bunk with only her laptop charger peeking out from the bottom of her fleece blanket.

(A cartoon rendition of the Sendai temple is printed onto the fleece. Apparently Haru had yet to see Futaba purchase anything ‘tourist-y’ and action figures of various anime characters don’t seem to count.)

He tugs on her laptop cord. “Hello.”

“...What?” she grunts, voice slightly muffled. Through the thin fabric, he can see the illumination from her screen.

“I need help reacting to something.”

“And you decided to ask me?” she deadpans. “The literal shut-in?”

“The previous shut-in,” he corrects. “You haven’t been a shut-in in nearly a year. A marvelous feat, if I do say so myself.”

“Yeah, and this is my way of celebrating.” The lump on the bed seems to curl further in on itself. “Begone. Do a painting or something. This is my me time. The equivalent of guzzling down a boat load of Arginade. There’s barely any time to be by myself considering the whole group is treating this RV like a pimped out party bus, so shoo.”

J-pop starts playing from inside the blanket fort, and even Yusuke knows a dismissal when he hears one. That won’t stop him, though.

He tugs again, harder. “That is the reason I’m asking you now. I can’t have this be heard by prying ears.”

Had there been a cat on the bunk bed, its ears would have twitched. “Is this…?”

“Yes,” he nods sagely. “It’s a secret.”

Futaba’s head pops out, eyes wide and nearly glowing in excitement. If there was one thing that she liked more than recovering her energy, it's uncovering every nook and cranny of people’s lives, whether they want it or not.

“Inari, you should’ve said something!” She throws the blanket off herself, snatches her laptop in her arms and jumps down. Slamming it down on the booth, she throws herself on top of the smooth faux leather. “Tell me everything. The deets, the specs, all down to the last dirty drop of tea.”

He slides in to join her, albeit much slower. “Before you tell me that I misled you, I want to make it clear: I don’t know what the secret is.”

“What!” she slaps her forehead, groaning. “Yusuke, why would you do me like that? That’s false advertising to the max, and I do not appreciate you tricking me.”

“There wasn’t a trace of trickery. What I’m about to say really does have to do with a secret, but I need your help with how to deal with it.”

“I’m gonna level with you here pal,” she puts a hand on his wrist. “I’m not the right person for this, but I’d be darned if I let you walk away without telling me anything. So let’s hear it! I’m ready for some juicy goss. Oh! Can I guess? Is it about Haru?”

He frowns. “No. Is there something about Haru?”

“I don’t know, that’s why I was asking you!” she says, patting her hands rapidly on the table. “Come on, just spill the beans already.”

“There are no ‘beans’ to spill yet, and besides, that sounds like a waste of perfectly good food.” He leans back against the plush cushion. Only a pinch of guilt arises in him as he says it. “It’s about Ryuji.”

“Ooo, Skull himself. Gotta admit, I wasn’t expecting him.”

“It relieves me that you said that. I share the same sentiment—it wasn’t until I had run into him the night before when I had started to truly suspect something. And what I found was…” he trails off.

Her lips pull downwards. “That bad?”

“It was worrying, to say the least.”

She sighs. Most of the energy in her seemed to have filed out in the presence of a more serious topic. “Dang. I knew it was fishy when he left, but he’s always been able to just hash things out on his own.” Her expression changes as an idea pops into her head, and it morphs into one he recognizes. “Does—?”

“No. Akira doesn’t know, apparently.”

Futaba splutters, and he has to resist the urge to nod his head at her reaction. “He—Akira—wait, what? He doesn’t know? Oh, it must be bad bad.”

“My thoughts exactly. Initially, I had thought that whatever this was, it was manageable. Like that time he had spent his month’s allowance on a claw machine to win Makoto that light-up buchimaru.” Idly, he touches her keyboard lightly, appreciating the kaleidoscope of colors that emanate from it. “You know how I feel. We’re the Phantom Thieves; we can’t allow anyone to suffer alone, even if the one we’re helping is a Phantom Thief himself.”

Futaba raises an eyebrow. “And how do you want to help him?” she asks. “By talking to him? Let’s be real, you and I have the lowest social stat in this group. Combined, we can maybe reach the nerd student council president, and the guy who can and should handle this doesn’t even know about it!” Biting down on her lip, “Should we tell Akira?”

“Absolutely not. That was the one thing he had requested, and we cannot go against it. By extension, I don’t think we should tell anyone else.” A thought comes to him. “Wait, he mentioned that Ann knows of his situation.”

“Great! Someone who knows how to deal with people’s problems and isn’t us. What are we waiting for?” She reaches for her phone, and Yusuke proceeds to smack her hand out of the way. “Ow?”

“Don’t call her!” he hisses. “Ryuji said that she’s, and I quote, ‘part of the problem’. We can’t have her knowing that we know something.”

“Ann is?” Futaba exclaims, shoving her glasses up her nose. “This is getting too deep. We don’t even know anything yet, and it’s really starting to feel like we’re part of some conspiracy.”

“That’s right, we don’t know anything, and it is our largest road block.” Yusuke crosses his arms. “We don’t know what happened between Ryuji and Ann, or if something even occurred between Ryuji and Ann. What if they had an argument? What if they’re fighting, and it becomes irreparable between them? What if it begins affecting our Jail runs?”

“You really gave this some thought, huh?”

“But of course. I must nurture the few friends that I have managed to treasure.” He glances outside and sees the crowds clambering to see their tourist spot. “We may be different from most teenagers, but I don’t believe we’re immune to the nature of cliques or dramas or even insecurities.”

“God, what a good friend you are, it’s bugging me,” Futaba accuses. “So what the heck, Mr. Philanthropist? We’re stuck between a rock and our friend group here. This mission was doomed before you even dragged me out from my hideout,” she says, eyes drifting away to stare longingly back at her bunk bed.

“Stop making that expression. There’s a reason why I talked to you about this.” He leans forward. “What I’m asking is, to be frank, unfavorable, but I really do believe that it’s worth it to do this.”

She looks at him, and it only takes her a few seconds for realization to set in. Her jaw drops. “Oh Inari, that’s vile.”

“If you’re uncomfortable with it—”

“I didn’t say I was uncomfortable with it,” she cuts in. The grin on her face is wide; a woman in her element. “I just thought you’re the one who’d be all against this kind of thing.”

Futaba pulls her laptop towards her. “Sit back and observe the master at work.”

He watches as her fingers breeze through the keyboard, eyes inscrutable as light reflects off of her glasses. “So you can do it?”

“I’ve hacked into the Diet Building’s security cameras on a dare back when I was twelve,” she snorts. “This is Mario Kart Baby Park with the railings up.”

“I don’t know what that is.”

“It means—” With a flourish, she hits a key before glancing up at him, smug. “That this will be very easy. I’m thinking we can start with their text messages and work our way up to the big stuff.”

“Oh, right. You can go through our phones,” he grimaces. “You’ve stopped doing that, yes?”

“Of course I have! By the way, did you figure out what courses you wanted next term? I saw your advisor was bugging you about it, you should really email her back.”

“Yes, I’ve finally decided on sculpting as opposed to visual photography since it lets me focus on the anatomy of...” he pauses. “Wait—”

“Okay, looks like I got his text messages with Ann, so let’s all focus on this now!” she says loudly. “Scooch over, let’s go through ‘em.”

He does, and she moves to sit next to him. Yusuke peers at her screen. “Nothing out of the ordinary. There is a significant drop in the frequency of his replies, but that’s been the case for me as well.”

“Same here.” She continues scrolling up rapidly, so fast he wonders how she can keep up with herself. “Memes, memes, lots of ‘where you at’ texts, more memes…”

Something catches his eye. “Hold. Go down slightly, I think that link might be interesting.”

“‘How to treat knee pain: 11 steps with pictures’?” she reads aloud. “His knee is acting up again?”

“What’s peculiar is that I haven’t seen any sign of it.” He squints at Ryuji’s response to it—generic gratitude. “Even in Jails, he runs around without a care in the world.”

“What’s even weirder is that Ann is actually sending Ryuji wikihow links on how to treat his knee,” she snorts. “Let’s put a pin in this one and move on, Ann’s chat is chalking up to be a dead end.”

Rubbing her hands together, she straightens up like a professor in front of a lecture hall on the first day of classes. “Now Yusuke, when you’re looking to crack someone open like a tasty, moist omelette, there are two things that you must look into: their email and their bank account.”

After some clicking, Ryuji’s email pops up. “Email is obvious, since this pretty much tracks anything big. Delivery shipments, subscriptions to websites, acceptance letters. It’s all here in a neat little bow, ready for us to read.”

“‘Manga’s are 20% off for this weekend only,” he reads. “‘Anime convention next weekend’, ‘Pizza coupons’.”

“Ugh, he’s so boring! Next!” Clicking sounds through the RV, emphasizing how much they were snooping through their friend’s private life. “Bank account, show us your wisdom.”

“My word,” Yusuke gasps when the tab opens up. “That’s quite a lot of funds.”

“Inari, four thousand yen is definitely not a lot of money. How much do you have in yours?”

“I don’t have an account,” he admits. “I was on my way to the bank to open one, but I ran out of train fare. By the time I had gotten there, it was already closed. Quite rude, considering that it was only two o’clock.”

She levels him with a look. “Was it a Sunday when you did all this?”

“Why does that matter?”

“Never mind,” she shakes her head. “Okay, so nothing conclusive or even embarrassing. That means that whatever this is, he really doesn’t want anyone knowing about it.”

Futaba hops out of the booth and starts rummaging through everyone’s luggage. “That means we unlock the secret, classic, never goes out of style method of snooping—” with an expression of triumph, she showcases Ryuji’s backpack to him. “Going through their stuff IRL.”

Yusuke winces. “Don’t you think we might be going too far?”

“Hey, what’s with the cold feet? Where was your ‘justice’ from before?”

“I’m all for justice,” he watches her unzip the backpack, recoiling. “But even this seems a little excessive.”

“Look, we already went through his email, his bank account, his text messages. At this point, it’s kind of weird if we don’t find anything. Like—” she throws a pair of shorts behind her as she rummages. “What kind of teenage boy doesn’t have anything to hide? And also, it’d be kinda messed up to go through his stuff and come up empty-handed. If we didn’t find anything—” she pulls out several t-shirts and a crowbar and places them on the ground next to her. “Then we’d just be a bunch of snoops.”

“I suppose you’re right,” he reluctantly agrees. “Above all else, we need to find out what’s happened in his life to make him so upset.”

“Exactly. Oh man, wouldn’t it be crazy if we just found some porn mags or something? Retro to the max, but I can totally see him as the kind of guy to lug something like that along. Unless it’s of Akira.” She makes a face. “Ew. Funny thought is no longer funny.”

“Karma, if you will.”

“Shut it. Oh ho ho, what do we have here?”

“You found something?”

“It’s some fancy looking letter.” Futaba flops herself on the ground. She clears her throat. “'Sakamoto Ryuji. This letter is to inform you that…'” she stops all of a sudden.

“Futaba?” he probes.

“Um,” she blinks, and laughs nervously. “Um?”

He reaches over, and she doesn’t resist when it slips out of her hands. Skimming through the letter, only his eyes dare to move. When he finishes, he lets out a breath. “Oh no.”

“We shouldn't've read that,” she whispers, a perfect summation of what he was feeling. “We really should not have read that.”

—

There’s something to be said about the quayside in Sendai, in the way that it’s almost exactly like Tokyo.

Sure, the buildings here are definitely shorter—gone are the towering structures back home, and instead they’re replaced with shorter structures with cute local designs and colorful patio restaurants. The people here are different, too. Maybe it’s something to do with the water here, in how it’s cleaner and how you can actually see some fish down in the canals if you know where to look. Don’t even get him started in the air; jeez, do they infuse the oxygen here with something? He hasn’t stopped taking deep breaths ever since they got here.

But despite all of those discrepancies, the feeling of Akira’s hand in his is just like being home.

“And it’s actually really interesting,” he hears vaguely. “Because back in Leblanc, there used to be a couple issues about the temperature and stuff, but in my hometown there’s…Ryuji? Are you even listening to me?“

Akira’s telling him something. A story about Morgana? And Ryuji’s sure it’s very interesting, but he’s too focused on the way that sunlight hits his cheekbones.

“I’m listening,” he lies. “Keep going. This is just my listening face, I promise.”

“Sure, sure,” Akira agrees easily. “That’s just your listening face, rather than me and my wicked good looks, right? I totally believe you.” He wiggles his fingers. “Give.”

Ryuji offers him the caramel ice cream cone in his other hand, letting him bite into it like some kind of psychopath. “Done?” he asks, shifting the tote bag tucked into the crook of his elbow, careful not to rattle the eggs inside. Akira bravely offered to carry the groceries, but he had obviously refused.

“Mmm. That’s good stuff.”

“Right? I read about the ice cream here when I was younger, and they were really hyping it up on the ad.” He takes a lick, grinning when the taste hits his tongue. “And on a summer day like this? Unbeatable. It’s really reminding me of last summer when we hung out everyday in your room eating crap, taking naps, and playing games.” It also helped that hanging out with his crush was a daily thing, he thought.

“And I got to hangout with my crush a lot too, so that’s always a plus,” Akira adds.

Ryuji stops, and Akira turns around to give him a weird look. “What?”

“You get me,” he says in awe.

“I sure hope so,” he tugs him forward, and they continue their walk, their shoes rhythmically landing on the wood in unison. A comfortable silence takes over, but that’s no good. Ryuji wants to hear him talk.

“So imagine you get ten million yen,” he starts. “What do you do with it?”

It’s not the first time he’s asked this. They discuss it often, eagerly like the dreaming boys they both are. Akira considers it and Ryuji loves that about him. It doesn’t matter how stupid his questions are—he will always answer them with as if it were a serious question.

“For starters, Yusuke’s getting a place as soon as possible.”

“Duh,” he snorts. “Apparently, his roommate brought someone back to hook up with them. Poor guy got so traumatized he slept over at Haru’s.”

“We should be glad that he didn’t ask them for poses,” Akira laughs. “Next, I’m making sure that Sojiro has enough for retirement.”

“Obviously. Rest in peace Leblanc—you make fire coffee, but no one’s there to drink it.”

“And then I’m making sure your mom has the funds for retirement for sure.”

“I love you,” he sighs.

“I know.” Akira starts swinging their hands back and forth. “Then with the rest, I’ll buy us some new shoes for when we start training again together, and whatever’s left we can split it up with the rest of the Thieves and they can do what they want with it.”

“I bet Ann would go on a shopping spree in France,” he says.

“Haru would probably donate hers.”

“Makoto’s is going straight into university. I can see her going in to get a Masters with that kind of money.”

Ryuji refuses to let his expression fall. “That’s her. Big bookworm with a capital B.” Stop talking about this, stop talking about this. “How about you, Sophia? Any clue what you’ll do with a boatful of moolah?”

A harmonic beep rings through the air and Akira passes her over to him. “I would invest in cryptocurrency and turn ten million into one hundred million,” she says cheerfully. “Then I would take that hundred million and turn it into one billion yen.”

Ryuji coughs, sliding her into his back pocket. “You know what? That’s my bad. I should’ve expected that, honestly.”

Akira plucks the remainder of their ice cream cone from his hand and throws it in his mouth, munching. Wordlessly, he takes out a pack of wet-wipes from his pockets and hands it to Ryuji.

“Thanks.” Reluctantly dropping his hand, he thoroughly cleans through his sticky fingers. “You didn’t ask me what I was gonna do with my money.”

He nods in a go ahead way.

“After I give most of it to my mom, I was just gonna give the rest to you.” Ryuji kicks a stray pebble. It skirts off the edge of the boardwalk. There’s a tug on his arm. “Yeah?”

Akira covers his mouth with a hand, before making an incomprehensible garble of noise.

“Huh? My bad, I didn’t catch that.”

A few seconds of vigorous chewing, he swallows. “I said,” Akira says, eyes glimmering the way it does when he gets really excited. “I was going to do the exact same thing.”

“Dude!” Ryuji throws his arm around his shoulders, tugging him in close. “You understand me like no one else does. What the eff!”

“I’m glad,” he says softly. Wrapping his arm around him, Ryuji blinks at the unexpected hug. “It’s nice that we're on the same wavelength.”

Suspicion tingles across Ryuji’s skin. “Hold up.” Pulling away, he squints his eyes at him. “No.”

Akira immediately looks to the side. “What?” he says, defensive. “It’s nothing.”

“No freaking way.”

“I think I saw a cool arcade back there, it has cool prizes that I think you’d like, and—“

“Kurusu Akira,” he says sternly, grabbing his face between his hands. “Don’t tell me that you’re jealous.”

“I’m not!” he insists, pushing his glasses higher on his nose. “I’m not, you know I’m not that type of guy.”

“But?” Ryuji prompts.

“But…” he hesitates. “I’d be happy for you, if you find that it’s easier to talk to other people that aren’t me.” Akira straightens up, pulling out of Ryuji’s grasp but inspects his hand like it were something to be studied. How strange it was to see his long, elegant fingers grasp his brutish, blistered ones. “I’m relieved that I didn’t leave you alone. I just...miss being your go-to, I think.”

“Akira.” He says slowly. “My man. The love of my fucking life. You are never not gonna be my go-to. You’re my go-one.” Rapping his knuckles against Akira’s temple carefully, “Your hometown is messing with you up here, making you say weird shit like that.”

“I know, I know.” Running his index finger down his wrist, Ryuji can feel how cold he is. “You knew what you were getting into when you started dating an overthinker.”

“As a chronic underthinker, no, I did not.” He kisses Akira’s palm. “But it works out, so it’s all good.”

Turning them both around, Ryuji starts walking. “I know this is super duper impossible for a guy like you, but I’m gonna have to ask you for a favor.”

“Anything.”

“You have got, to the best of your ability,” he bumps into Akira’s shoulder. “Stop stressing out.”

He frowns. “It’s my job to stress out.”

“It’s our job to stress out,” he corrects. “You and me. Founding Thieves. We share the burden, bro. We got into this together, we’re getting out of it together. That includes you worrying about our relationship outside the ‘Verse, and extend it all the way to what dingy hometown you took the bullet train from.”

“I’ll try,” he says doubtfully. “You’re kind of enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“What do you mean? No way I can enjoy the most perfect person on the planet be a little jealous over his boyfriend getting attention, what kind of asshole would I be?” And before Akira can say anything, “I know, not jealous, but I’ll take what I can get.”

“I love you.”

“I know,” he flashes a peace sign.

“I know you know.” A group of middle schoolers pass them, chattering about nothing and pointing out random things on the quay, all enjoying their summer vacation. “You know that you can tell me anything, right?” he asks suddenly.

Unable to help himself, he ruffles Akira’s hair, pitch black and hot to the touch. “You don’t have to tell me twice.”

“I don’t?”

Gray eyes look into his brown ones, earnest and trusting. Just like that, the light feeling in Ryuji’s chest vanishes. “No,” he responds slowly. “You don’t.”

“Good,” Akira nods, and sees where they were heading towards. “Oh, you took that seriously?”

“You bet your crisp ass I did,” he says, pushing the glass door open. The arcade is bright, neon, and littered with claw machines. Add that to the list of similarities from Tokyo. “I don’t fuck around with arcades. I’m in the top hundred players in the Gun Gale in Shinjuku.”

“Was that with Shinya or without?”

“Not important.” He surveys the area. “There it is. Can you grab us some change? I’ll pay you back.”

Akira waves his hand, walking towards the coin machine. “Don’t. What kind of a boyfriend would I be if I let you pay for our dates?”

“A hot one!” he yells. When he turns the corner, Ryuji collapses into a bright red racing chair. “Fuck,” he hisses, heart beating too damn fast for it to be normal. “Chill out, Sakamoto, jesus.”

It only gets worse when a familiar beep rings out. “Ryuji, your heart rate is at 160. Is everything alright?”

“Sophia!” he wheezes out, relieved. “Can you—will—” he stops, scrunching his eyes closed. “I’m having a panic attack, I think.”

“Searching for how to treat panic attacks,” she says immediately, and he sags into the cool plastic gratefully. “Deep breaths will help, slowly to the count of ten.”

His heart is beating so hard that he can barely hear the jingles and the whirrs of the machines around him. “Count out loud. Hurry, before he gets back.”

She does, and he grips the side of the chair as he focuses on breathing. The attack passes by faster than he hoped it would. “Thank god,” he breathes. “Thank you.”

“No prob,” she says, before hesitating. “Akira—”

“Will not know about this,” he cuts her off, rubbing his hand over his face. “I’ll tell him eventually, don’t worry, et cetera. I know all this. Ann’s been hounding me non-freakin’-stop. Just don’t tell him, Soph. Please.”

Before she can say anything, Akira comes back, pockets full of change and that signature small smile resting on his lips.

—

The bright side about missing out on Sapporo’s snow festival is having its tourism as its lowest point when you visit it in the summer.

Even the shopping district just outside Susikino isn’t very crowded; there’s the usual street vendors and shops with bright pastries and cute clothes. But even having it right beside the Sapporo Tower, it’s still nothing uncomfortable. At least, it’s not uncomfortable when you get to observe the environment through a phone lens.

“This is nice, isn’t it? I don’t think I’ve had much of an opportunity to talk to you yet, which is quite rude of me.”

“No prob,” Sophia replies easily. She was swaying from Haru’s neck, hanging by a silicone phone holder that she had bought from a convenience store. Futaba had guffawed when she saw it, but Sophia’s happy about the purchase. It’s fun, and it lets her people watch from the perspective of one of her friends. “I have been meaning to talk to everyone one by one as to better understand each of you.”

“Oh, good! What better use of a nice chat while doing some shopping along the way?” Haru chirps, thumbing through a rack of out-of-season clearance sweaters as they pass. “I have to admit, I’m not the best when it comes to fashion and whatnot. Most of the time, I ask Ann-chan to accompany me.”

“I can try my best! Online websites are constantly updating in order to provide their readers with the newest trends.” Idly, she takes a peek. “Wide-legged pants are back in style.”

“That’s a relief,” she sighs. “I never pulled off skinny jeans too well. Long, flowy skirts have always been my thing. It just gives off such a nice aesthetic, doesn’t it?”

Sophia smiles. “I think you’d look good in anything. Have you considered going punk? You’d look very dope and intimidating with a black streak in your hair and a leather jacket.”

“Now that I can agree with, but that’s more Mako-chan’s style, I’m afraid.” She pauses. “Actually, I bet Mako-chan would actually like that. Sometimes I feel as though she isn’t willing to branch out of her circle of clothes past a pair of Oxfords and a deep-coloured sweater. A push might be what she needs.”

She considers this. “Is it possible to buy clothes for her? That can be a possible ‘push’, quote unquote.”

“Hmm, I don’t think so. She would never let us do such a thing.”

“One moment.” Pulling out a few files from inside her memory storage, she clears her throat. “According to my data analysis, Niijima Makoto has high difficulty straying away from well-mannered behaviours. Do you think that includes saying no to gifts given to her? That can be advantageous.”

Haru stops walking and pulls the phone up so that they’re at eye-level. “Sophia-chan,” she beams. “I have a feeling we’re going to be very good friends.”

They continue walking down the street when Haru gasps suddenly. “You literally can’t shop, can you?”

“Of course I can. I can get anything in the world for you,” she says proudly. “Anything.”

“Alright, we’ll have to test that later, but I mean you can’t use what you buy,” she frowns, eyes troubled. “Your sweater is adorable, but you’re forced to wear it everyday, right? Can you even do your hair differently? Is it possible for you to pin it, or even let it down?”

Sophia finds it endearing that she would let such a thing bother her. She doesn’t even have a social insurance number, but Haru’s worried about hair clips. “No, but I quite like it the way it is. It doesn’t get in the way when I do my work, and in the Metaverse, it gets completely hidden as to let me do my fighting,” she explains, karate chopping in her screen. “But I can understand the human desire for change.”

“Would you like that?” Haru asks gently. “To change? Um, change out of your clothes, and change mentally. Either one.”

“Change mentally, of course! I’d love to understand my friends better and understand how to help them. It’s a vast mountain of knowledge, but I’d want nothing more than to decode the mystery of the human heart,” she says eagerly. “But for clothes...I’m not sure. I haven’t tried it. I’m pretty sure I can’t try it.”

“That settles it,” Haru looks both ways before crossing the street, jogging slightly.

Sophia perks up. “If you’re heading somewhere specific, I can give you directions.”

“No need.” She has an intense, hungry look on her face, not unlike the one she had when the new axe Akira bought had finally arrived at their RV. “We’re just about here.”

They stop in front of a store, and she can barely read the sign from the phone’s angle. “‘Case in Point’?”

Haru pushes the glass door open, greeting the cashier. “It’s a phone modifier shop.”

There’s no effort to explain anything else, but Sophia can confidently add ‘anticipation’ onto her growing list of experienced feelings.

—

“Out of curiosity—” Haru begins as they exit the modifier store, the cashier still bug-eyed from the tip she had left at his counter. “Can you see everything inside Akira-kun’s phone?”

“Yes,” she replies. The environment that she lives in, and more specifically, Akira’s phone, is now a bright, perfectly polished shade of rose gold with a mint outline. A far cry from the matte black that it was before. “Why do you ask?”

“No reason.” Her voice is sweet as sugar. “Out of curiosity once again, is there anything interesting? Anything worth noting?”

She jumps as Sophia’s voice suddenly morphs into Akira’s without warning. “Nice try,” the phone plays. “But no.”

And just as quick, Sophia comes back to the phone. “Sorry about leaving,” she says. “Akira had asked me to play that clip if someone ever, and I quote, ‘tried me.’”

Haru giggles. “Just like Akira-kun to be so thorough. Impressive as always, leader.” She peers down at her watch. “I suppose it’s about time to head back, isn’t it?”

“We still have eight minutes to spare.”

“We do. Perhaps we should take a stroll around the park?”

“Cool,” she says. “Wanna ask Futaba and Yusuke if they want to come with?”

“Sure?” Haru blinks. “That’s very specific.”

“On your two o’clock,” she points out. “In front of the book store.”

They watch as Futaba and Yusuke stand across the street from them. Futaba is aggressively pointing her finger at the books on display, then slapping her fist against her palm like she was devising a war strategy. Yusuke shakes his head wildly, comically putting his hands in his pockets and revealing that there was nothing inside. She sighs and walks away, tugging along a dejected boy behind her.

“Aren’t you going to ask them?”

“In a moment.” Haru takes them to the front of the store. “This isn’t a bookstore, I don’t think. What’s it called Sophia?”

After a quick search: “‘Sapporo’s School Supply Store’,” she says. “The alliteration makes it fun to say.”

“Indeed it does.” Peering into the store, Haru makes an introspective noise. “Now isn’t this interesting?” she hums. “Do you mind if I make one more purchase?”

“Not at all,” Sophia says, thrilled to add another point she had learned: If Haru wants something, there’s nothing that will get in her way.

—

“So,” Makoto starts, and Ryuji has to hold back a groan. He knows that tone. He’s memorized that tone. All the second years can feel her tone from a mile away. Hell, Ann probably took an instinctive step back just now. “Have you started to think about university?”

“Nope,” he says, wiping the sweat off his brow as they jog around the corner of Odori park. Back before he had left for his hometown, Akira and Ryuji would be up at dawn to train. Lately though, he’s been using any free time he has that isn’t planning for, prepping for, or actively doing a Jail run to sleep in the RV. And hey, he has no beef with Makoto, and it’s not like she can’t keep up with his training (she can most definitely kick his ass in hand-to hand), but she has a tendency to push when it comes to this sort of stuff. “Not a single thought towards it. It’s been pretty good, actually.”

“I can tell,” she agrees. “It’s almost like you blocked my number.”

“I did not!”

“So you actively choose not to answer any of my texts?”

“Ugh, don’t set me up like that,” he winces. “You know I’m stupid enough to fall for shit like that everytime.”

“Hold on.”

Ryuji grunts as he feels a hold on his shirt, forcing him to stop. “Ew, don’t touch my back, it’s Nigeria there.”

“First of all, it’s Niagara.” She spins him around. He’s only a little taller than her, but something about her always seems to tower over him. “Second, do you know why I keep pushing all of you to go to university?”

“Because you hate us?” he mumbles.

Makoto glares at him. “Try again.”

“...Because you don’t hate us?”

“Because I don’t hate you,” she repeats. “You’re all rowdy and wild and sometimes I don’t understand the jokes you make—”

“You’re just mad ‘cause you fell for a deez nuts joke.”

“But I do, inexplicably, love all of you,” she pushes on, and that shuts him up. “I know what you’re all capable of. Amazing things! I understand you all believe that I’m the be-all end-all, and I appreciate your compliments, but there are some things that only Ann can do, or Akira, or Yusuke.”

Makoto continues running, and he reluctantly follows suit. “And you. You can achieve things that I can’t even dream of, Ryuji.”

He resists the urge to yawn. “Thanks for the pep talk, Niijima.” Looking left, the gelato is looking real good. “Wanna get something to eat? I’m starving.”

“You aren’t very good at hiding secrets, Ryuji.”

Now that grabbed his attention. “Whoa, whoa, whoa there, prez!” Speeding past her, he holds out a hand to make her stop. “What do you mean by that?”

She raises a brow. “Nothing in particular, but your reaction is showing me that I should have meant something by it.”

He gnaws on the inside of his cheek roughly. “Okay, but why did that come into your brain? Why do you think I have some kinda secret?”

“I live with a prosecutor everyday of my life, of course I know when something’s afoot.” Pushing her hair back, she squints up at him. “You’ve been more...jumpy lately, yet somehow more laid-back than usual. I wanted to talk to Akira about this—”

Blood pours into his mouth when he accidentally bites too hard. “You talked to Akira?!” he half yells, red dribbling from the corner of his lips.

“Oh my god!”

“Fuck,” he clamps a hand over his mouth. “Sorry. Bit too hard.”

“N-no! Don’t apologize!” she reaches into her pocket and pulls out a napkin, pulling him to a stone ledge. “Sit and take this so you don’t bleed all over yourself. I’ll be back.”

He doesn’t bother speaking, only nods as she turns around. When she comes back, she’s holding a water bottle. “Here.”

Taking it gratefully, he takes deep gulps before spitting it out. “Why the hell does this taste like the beach?” he splutters.

“I didn’t say to drink it! It’s salt water to get rid of infections!”

“Why would you do that to me?!”

“Because I thought you knew to do that from the second-year health class!” she shoots back. “Gargle it and spit. Near the gutter, mind you, it’s rude to spit in front of kids. They might get the wrong idea.”

As if kids are gonna see him and think that there’s something worth remembering. He sips, sloshing it around his mouth before gently letting it dribble into the grated sewer. “Blegh.”

“You’re welcome. Keep at it. And while you’re doing that,” she sits next to him, shoulder to shoulder. “Do you want to tell me what’s been making you anxious?”

He pauses. “Anxious?”

Makoto gives him a stern look. “‘Experiencing worry, unease, or nervousness, typically about an imminent event or something with an uncertain outcome.’ It was covered in your midterm.”

��Ah, right,” he mutters. Gripping the fabric of his shirt, his heart is beating too quick for it to be normal. Then again, when was the last time it wasn't? “You think I’m anxious?”

“I’m not sure. Keep gurgling,” Makoto chides.

He does, the salt water still red whenever he spat, and she continues. “All I know is when my anxiety gets really bad, I chew on my lip. Sae used to chide me when we were younger, but you know, she got busy,” she shrugs, as if he didn’t know how much it pained her to lose her only family member to a career of protecting the wrong people. “When I mentioned it to Akira, he took it upon himself to check up on me regularly during exam weeks.”

To prove her point, she takes her lower lip and flips it out for him to see—white teeth marks, but old scars instead of anything fresh. Letting go, her expression is smug. “He hasn’t felt the need to check in for a while now.”

Spitting, water finally running clear, he grins. “Good for you. I’m glad to hear that, dude.”

“Thank you, but that wasn’t the point. My point was that I was only able to get better because I told someone about it. Someone I trusted.” Makoto turns to him, her gaze serious. “I know that’s what Akira is to you. Habits like these are harmless at first, but they can turn into something else more dangerous. I won’t stand for that. My own justice won’t stand for that.”

Ryuji opens his mouth, before closing it. I’ll tell Akira, he wants to say. How many times does he have to repeat that line before he starts believing it himself? “Okay,” he says, because it’s the only thing he can say without hating himself even more.

“Okay.” She pats his knee before standing. “I can get us some gelato.” She stretches, wincing as her joints crack into place. “If you’re feeling up to it, start your cool down. Unless you wanna keep training?”

“I’m good. Felt enough blood rush for the day.”

She goes to the ice cream stand, and he stares up at the blue sky.

Makoto’s right, because of fucking course she is. She’s right, he knows she’s right. But she doesn’t get it. To her, Akira’s a friend. A guy who helped her out and changed her life, yeah. If he hadn’t met her when she did, maybe she would’ve become a scummy adult who didn’t look up from market pricing and hedge funds.

But Ryuji? Ryuji would be dead without Akira. That’s a fact and a half.

To Makoto, Akira’s a friend. To Ryuji, he’s Akira, and you can’t be on a higher pedestal in his mind than that.

—

It was Yusuke who took the first step.

“Ann,” he greets cordially. “How do you do?”

She gives him a weird look. “Kinda trying to focus here,” she says, gesturing at the scene in front of them. They, Morgana, and Sophia were in the B team as they watched the rest of them try and get rid of the remaining Shadows in Mariko’s Jail, tersely attentive and waiting on Joker’s word in case they needed a last minute switch. The Jail was environmentally brutal; the ice underneath the soles of their shoes makes them skid more often than they’d like. It almost makes the fights seem quicker, one notch faster than usual.

Yusuke pays her dismissal no mind. “I, myself, am learning many new things lately. Can the same be said about you?”

In the corner of his eye, Futaba pauses typing on her laptop to face palm.

“Are you...” Ann says after a brief pause. “Is this a threat? Are you threatening me?”

“No—”

“Panther!” Akira’s clear voice rings out.

Ann dashes forward without question, high-fiving Morgana as they trade spots.

Futaba marches forward, glaring at Yusuke like he was crazy. “You dolt!” she hisses. “What was that supposed to be? I said be slick and cool, not act like a fool!”

“While I admire the rhyme scheme, I don’t understand what you want from me. That was as ‘slick and cool’ as I’m capable of,” he furrows his brow. “I even opened with a question that seemed as though the conversation would be a normal one, but then used that to transition into what I actually wanted to discuss.”

“Stop looking so proud of yourself and—”

“Fox!”

“Back in a moment,” he says before he’s gone, Makoto taking his place, leather uniform still smoldering from when she took a fire move head-on.

“What was that about?” Haru asks, swinging her axe like a picnic basket.

“Nothing, Noir,” Futaba sighs, plopping back into place where Ann had stood. Carmen had kindly left a warm patch of concrete in her wake. “Just Inari became a big ole’ dumb-dumb.”

“I see,” she hums. “So this has nothing to do with what you two have been conspiring about lately?”

Her eyes shot wide open. “Con...conspiring?” she stutters out. “What do you mean by—”

A particularly loud scream rips into the air, and everyone turns their heads to see Captain Kidd slam his hook into the ground, purple arms erupting from the snow and wiping out a huge chunk of Shadows all in one go.

“Hot damn,” Futaba says, directing her focus back to her laptop and making sure Ryuji has enough health to keep going.

“He’s strong,” Haru observes, all playfulness gone.

“Too strong.” After Futaba gives everyone on the main team a good amount of health, something on her screen makes her pause. “Huh…?”

“Noir.”

Haru turns around to see Makoto waiting for her. “I need to discuss something with you.”

“Of course,” she steps closer to her and drops her voice. “Is everything alright?”

“I’d bring this up with Joker, but I don’t want to bother him if I’m not sure if there’s anything wrong yet,” Makoto pushes her mask up. “But have you noticed Skull's been acting strange lately?”

“Mona!”

He swaps with Ann, her pigtails covered in snow. “Ugh,” she grimaces as she shakes it out. “I could try and melt it, but it’ll just drip down my back and freeze later on, and I do not want that.”

“Panther, I’d like your input as well, if you don’t mind,” Makoto says.

“Sure. What’s up?”

“I was just talking to Noir about this, but did you notice anything strange about the way Skull’s acting lately?”

Ann takes a step back. “Well, what—No—I mean, that’s your opinion, I think!” she exclaims. “To me, Skull's acting is completely normal. He’s normal—actually, scratch that, he’s better than usual. Nothing about him is wrong, I think, and that’s pretty outstanding and impressive once you consider that he’s the one with the life-long injury. Not that that has to do with anything!” Ann yells. “I just wanted to point out how far he’s come, and how much he’s kicking ass right now. Actually,” her voice shifts to a stage whisper. “Don’t mention this because I don’t wanna cause drama, but Fox has been a little weird.”

“Weird how?” Makoto whispers back, looking extremely lost.

“Just earlier, he asked me how I was.”

“...I’m not following.”

“No, Panther-chan has a point,” Haru breaks in. “I can’t say for certain, but I have a strong feeling that Fox and—” she points at Futaba conspicuously. “Are up to something.”

“Sophie and Fox?” Ann breathes.

“Panther!”

“Damn, again? That’s what we get for going into an ice Jail,” she grumbles, swapping with Yusuke.

Haru sighs. “Panther-chan isn’t the best with context clues, is she?”

“Hello ladies,” Yusuke greets. “What were we discussing?”

Makoto gives him a suspicious look. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

His jaw drops, bewildered, but before he can say anything, Futaba waves him over. “Get your fox butt over here!”

“I...Alright,” he says, resigned.

“Look at them,” Makoto nods at the pair. “I think you’re onto something.”

“I think so too, but I don’t want to be too hasty. After all, the two of them are such good friends now; it would be unfair to assume negative outcomes without evidence, or at least confront them first,” Haru says nonchalantly.

She understands immediately. “You have evidence?”

“Something of the sort.”

“Noir!”

“Duty calls,” she gives her a thumbs up, before Ann comes back once again.

“I can’t wait for us to go to a really hot place again,” she kicks the snow with her heels. “Then I’ll be comfortably in the B team because all the Shadows have fire resistance to the max.”

“Oh good, she’s back,” Yusuke’s expression is one of relief.

“Fox—” Futaba warns without looking up from her laptop.

“Come here. There is something we would like to discuss with you.” Whether or not it was intentional, he rests his hand on the handle of his katana.

“Okay but before we start, I just wanna ask—what are you doing with Sophie?” Ann accuses. “It’s fine to be friends with her, but you have to be careful. She’s really susceptible to what we say right now, and if you try anything funny—”

“What are you even saying?” he says, offended. “I barely even talk to her!”

They all glance at Sophia, who had been standing perfectly still and silent. She gives them a wave. They all awkwardly wave back.

Makoto places a hand on Ann’s shoulder. “Panther, Noir meant Fox and Oracle.” Ann flushes red as she continues. “And while we’re all here, I wanted to bring this up with you as well. Have you all noticed something strange with Skull?” Futaba stops typing. “I’m not sure how to explain it, but I think he’s extremely anxious about something. You all know that I’m an overthinker, so I might have the wrong idea but…” she trails off.

Futaba glances at Yusuke. Yusuke glances at Ann. Ann helplessly glances at Ryuji, still fighting alongside Akira and the others.

“I know nobody asked me,” they all jump a foot in the air when Sophia speaks beside them. “But I can at least confirm for suresies that there is something strange with Skull.”

“Which is…?” Makoto prods.

“I don’t know the specifics.” Ann, Yusuke, and Futaba let out a breath. “But he did have a panic attack recently.”

“I knew it!” Makoto snaps her fingers. “He’s had signs of being anxious, but I wasn’t too sure about it.”

“Queen!”

She runs out, and Ryuji comes in, looking exhausted but pleased. “Hey y’all, what were we talking about?”

It was dead silent before Sophia steps forward. “Look what I can do!” she exclaims, changing the expression on her screen to be an emoji with a flower.

“Whoa!” His eyes bug out, and they all sigh in relief. “That’s awesome! Can you do more?”

“That’s super cool Sophie, but,” Futaba looks at Ryuji, skeptical. “Don’t you feel weak right now? Your health is way down.”

“Oh, I didn’t even notice,” he rubs the back of his neck. “Sophie, you mind?”

“Not at all.” She calls for Pithos and green sparkles fall on him. “Better?”

“Thanks, I owe you one.”

“Skull!”

“When the king calls, his knight answers,” he salutes, sprinting out as Makoto comes back in.

“So,” she glares at the rest of them. “What do the rest of you know?”

Ann groans. “Even if I did know something, I probably wouldn’t be able to tell you.”

“Wait,” Futaba points an accusing finger at her. “What do you know?”

“What do I know? What do you know? And for that matter, what does he,” Ann points at Yusuke. “Know? Noir said you guys are doing secret stuff together!”

“That’s preposterous,” he scoffs. “If it was secret, she wouldn’t have known.”

“That’s the dumbest argument I’ve ever heard.”

“How is it dumb?” he asks. “You can’t possibly think that just because Futaba and I are doing ‘secret stuff’ that it has anything to do with Skull’s situation!”

There was a pause. “Are those two connected?” Sophia asks. Futaba buries her face in her hands.

“That was...not the question I expected,” Yusuke answers weakly.

“Sophie!”

“God, I wish Joker would call for Inari instead,” Futaba groans.

Rushing out, Sophia high-fives Ryuji on the way. “Guess who’s back, motherfuckers?”

In an effort to bury their conversation, they all begin cheering overenthusiastically, Yusuke clapping politely. Bewildered, Ryuji instinctively gives them a thumbs up. “Thanks guys. Usually, my jokes don’t really land, but that made me real happy.”

“Uh, Skull,” Futaba raises an eyebrow. “How do you keep losing health? I didn’t even notice you taking a hit.”

“I’m low again? Damn, I didn’t even notice,” he groans loudly. “Queen, can you—”

“I’m on it.”

Just as Johanna heals him, Akira calls out once again: “Skull!”

“Joker really does rely on you, doesn’t he?” Yusuke observes.

Ryuji laughs. If they didn’t know any better, they would think it sounded a little nervous. “Well, gotta jet!”

High-fiving Makoto, he runs out. She stares at the remaining members of the B team. “You all know something,” she accuses. “And I understand if you’re all being loyal to him by keeping what you know close to your hearts. But remember this:” she takes a step forward, and they all take an unconscious step back, Futaba scooting from where she sat on the ground. “There comes a point where it’s actually more important to keep a person safe and healthy than to uphold a potentially dangerous secret.”

They all digest her words for a second, and flinch when a flash of blue flame appears, taking Akira’s Persona away.

“Finally.” He stretches his shoulders, satisfied. “That took awhile. Good work everyone, let’s keep going.”

Making their trek deeper into the Jail, Futaba half-jogs, half-speed walks to Ryuji. “Your health again,” she chides. “Seriously. I know I like to play around, but I always have my eye on you guys when you’re fighting. I literally have not seen you take a hit, but you’re getting drained like milk in a sink.”

He shrugs, unperturbed. “Whatever. You see my hits today, though? They were tough.”

“Yeah,” she agrees reluctantly. “But your health is still low. I’ll call Joker about that.”

Before she can turn, he grabs her wrist. “Nope,” he says. “I’ll ask Panther. Thanks though!”

Ryuji goes to Ann, and he can feel everyone’s eyes on him, watching him, surveying his every move.

All eyes except for the one that really matters.

[alj4890]

And Then I Left You

(Thomas Hunt x oc*Amanda) in a “what if” version to the RCD/TRR fan fic And Then I Met You Series

A/N Sorry for the delay. Life has just been off these last few weeks. This chapter is loooonnnggg, LOL. It was actually going to be longer, but I knew I couldn’t do that to everyone. Anyway, lets allow these two some time alone.

@krsnlove​ @my-heart-beats-for-ya @aworldoffandoms @flyawayboo  @trappedinfanfiction @everythingmarvelsherlockspn  @sophxwithers @kate-mckenzie @twinkleallnight

Masterlist

Chapter 8 Alone At Last

After all the uncertainty followed by being unable to find consistent moments alone, Amanda and Thomas were at last set free of worry.

Well, mostly.

They had to behave as friends when out amongst the small towns they stopped along their way to different historical sights. Though those moments forced them to keep their distance, neither tempered their soft spoken words.

Thomas had worried that first day how they would handle the hotel situations he believed they were bound to encounter. He had gotten used to Olivia's secret passageways allowing him to see Amanda whenever he wanted.

He should have known that the intelligent lady he adored had already solved that problem.

Pulling onto a gravel road, she drove him toward a cottage that sat alone in a rolling meadow dotted here and there with trees. The two-story, thatched roof building sat amidst large Cordonian oak trees. Roses twined around a drain pipe while wisteria grew in wild abandon adding even more beauty to the rough stone walls.

"I know we could stay somewhere different with each place we visit," Amanda explained. "But then I thought we could stay our entire time somewhere in the middle of it all. It will mean more driving each day, but we will have nothing but privacy here."

Thomas stepped out and followed her inside. The cottage was just as charming on the inside as it was on the outside. Much of the furniture was designed strictly for comfort and a few for whimsy. The wooden floors creaked with each step as he explored the different rooms.

Upstairs, there were two bedrooms directly across from one another with a bathroom dividing them.

His lips curved at knowing he wouldn't have to find a way to sneak around and see her whenever they weren't out in public.

"What do you think?" She asked, a bit nervous from his silence.

"It's charming." He set his arms around her waist. "And perfect for our needs."

She relaxed and wound her arms around his neck. "I hoped you would like it. We will stay here for most of the week before going to St Orella. Then we'll have a few days to ourselves there before I have to travel to Applewood."

"Before we travel to Applewood." He pressed a kiss to her lips. "I've decided to postpone filming until after Liam's Coronation."

"You have?" Her eyes widened. "Why?"

"By the time everyone gets here and settled, it will be just a couple of weeks before the end of the social season." Thomas explained. "I went ahead and told Holly to tell the others. Chris has already expressed his thanks since he and Sharon are still getting used to taking care of an infant. Ryan is still completing the last leg of his publicity tour of his last film and is grateful for not being rushed from one side of the world to another. Everyone else had nothing they needed to do that would rush the production."

"Oh." She smiled softly. "Just how long are you intending on being in Cordonia, Mr. Hunt?"

"As long as I can." He murmured, kissing her again. "If that meets with your approval."

"It does." She smiled against his lips before pulling away. "We should go get our things and unpack."

Thomas followed her downstairs as she told him that she had called ahead and had groceries delivered. She had thought of everything to make their time free of anything tedious they didn't want to have to worry about.

That evening, she pulled a map out during dinner and spread it between them.

"Over here is where the old abbey is that Arthur and Reginald had their duel. Then to the south, is..."

Thomas relaxed back in his chair as she continued to point out the places of interest to him. His attention remained on her face animated in excitement to show him these different pieces of her family history. His mind though focused on things other than the film.

Knowing this time alone would be his only chance at truly romancing her without the need of her pretending to want Liam, he wanted to make every moment memorable for her. Something was needed that would remain on her mind during the tedious dinners, balls, and teas she would have to take part in.

He also hoped this time together settled some personal decisions of his own concerning her.

"Am I boring you?"

"No. Not at all." He took her hand in his. "Forgive me, I was lost in thought."

She squeezed his hand then folded the map up. "Tomorrow we can drive to the Abbey and have a picnic. The weather should be pleasant and--"

A startled laugh escaped her lips when he yanked her into his lap. One hand slipped around her waist while the other tangled in her hair, urging her into a heated kiss.

Their eyes met when they slowly pulled apart.

"Why don't we take this-"

His phone began to ring.

Amanda eased out of his lap. "While you see who that is, I'll clear the table."

Groaning in resignation, he left to find his phone and see who would call him at such a moment.

"Hey!" Addison's cheery voice made him cringe. "I was wondering if it's okay that I come in a couple of weeks to compare my sketches and finished costumes to those paintings in Amanda's gallery."

"It's fine." He grumbled. "Now good--"

"How is everything going?" Holly spoke up before he could end the cal.

His eyes narrowed at being on speakerphone. "Is anyone else there?"

"Just me." Shannon said in a please don't be irritated tone. "I brought the baby by for a visit."

"I see." He bit out. "Everything is fine."

"Is it?" Addison persisted. "You haven't told us how things are going with Amanda."

"Did she ever speak to you again?" Shannon sheepishly asked.

"I can't tell if he's angry for us calling or angry because things aren't going like he wants." Holly complained to them.

"The former." He bit out.

Addison squealed softly. "So you and Amanda are together?"

"In a way." He glanced down the hall where he could hear water running and dishes clattering. "Her being a suitor has forced us to keep our relationship a secret."

"Oh thank goodness!" He could hear Addison dramatically dropping on a sofa. "After seeing all the pictures with her and Liam, I was afraid she had refused to even speak to you."

He hesitated and decided not to explain how difficult that truly had been. "If that is all, I will hang up now."

"Why?" Holly asked. "Are you on a date?"

"As a matter of fact, I am and will be this week as well. With Liam's help we were able to escape the court for some location scouting." He cleared his throat when he heard the water shut off. "Goodbye ladies."

"Wait!” Addison yelled out. “We need details!”

“How much longer until you guys can be out in the open?” Shannon added.

“Are you--”

Thomas jerked the phone away from his ear when Shannon’s infant let out an irritated cry. While the three were distracted with trying to calm the tiny girl, he ended the call.

He set his phone on silent. He didn't trust Addison or Holly and now he found that Shannon belonged in that same group. He had no doubt their curiosity would get the best of them or they would feel the need to offer unwanted advice and call within the next hour. He was determined that these few days he had with Amanda be focused solely on romance.

He knew she had it in her head that they needed to tour every single place. He had not had the heart to tell her that just by looking at her photos that he knew he would have an easy time filming at each location. He merely used seeing them in person as an excuse to spend time with her away from court.

He thought it was endearingly her that she was so ready to help him.

Thomas looked up when he heard her footsteps.

Amanda smiled at him as she set a tray down on a small table. "I thought you might like a cup of coffee."

His eyebrow raised when he saw the bottle of whiskey.

"Just in case you would like a cup of Irish coffee." She explained while preparing her teacup.

Her smile grew when he ignored the coffee pot and instead wrapped his arms around her. His lips skated down her neck causing her to have to fight back a shiver.

"Would you like me to fix you a cup?" She asked, biting down on her lip when he kissed up to her ear.

"Yes, please." He stepped back. "Just black coffee."

Amanda glanced back at him. "Are you planning on staying up late?"

His eyes drifted down her body before lifting once more to hers. "Yes, I am."

The heat rising up her neck and cheeks brought a smile to his face.

She cleared her throat and handed him his cup. Her own smile was warm when he motioned for her to sit next to him.

Thomas lifted his arm so she could settle closer. With little encouragement, she turned somewhat away from him so that she could rest her head back against him while curling her legs under her. The two relaxed and enjoyed the peaceful solitude similar to the ones they used to enjoy in California.

Thomas let his arm drape down to settle across her waist while pressing a kiss to the top of her head. He couldn't help but think that this was one of the things that he himself had been guilty daydreaming about. There were so many nights when he and Amanda would watch a movie or simply relax with a drink of some sort, yet had kept their distance from one another.

He had feared losing her if he stepped beyond the friendship line. To now know that she had felt the same made him wonder what would have happened if he had pulled her close one of those nights.

Their peace was interrupted by a sound of rolling thunder followed by the skies opening up.

Amanda eased out of his arms and peeked out from behind one of the curtains.

"There goes our picnic plans for the abbey." She mumbled. Turning back to Thomas, she grimaced. "I'm sorry. Many of the roads that lead there sometimes flood. We--"

"Then we'll go another day." He reassured her with a slight shrug. "I'm in no hurry as I explained earlier."

"About that," Amanda returned back to her spot beside him. "What made you decide to postpone? I know we've had to wait on Ryan, but you could have shot some scenes that he isn't in. Was it your idea or did the others talk you into it?"

Thomas took a sip of his coffee. "It was my idea."

Amanda propped her elbow on the back of the sofa and set her chin on her fist while studying him. "Yes, but what made you think of it?"

His expression was one of humored exasperation as he met her eyes. "Why do you think?"

She lowered her lashes. "Surely you didn't because of me."

"I did." He corrected.

Her brow furrowed as she looked up once more. "Thomas, you didn't have to change your plans simply because I would have to leave and travel with the court." She set her teacup down and reached for his hand. "I can always do a rewrite wherever I am if you need it and find a way to get it to you."

"You think I postponed the film for rewrites?" He couldn't believe this was her first thought. He clearly had more work to do than he originally thought to alter her view of how he viewed her.

"Didn't you?" Her brow furrowed when she noticed his brief flash of irritation. "I know it isn't because you're afraid that I'll end up falling for Liam or anything like that."

"No. I do not fear you will fall for a handsome, truly kind prince who could give you everything." He grumbled.

Her eyes widened at his tone. "Thomas?"

He turned toward her, mimicking her posture by resting his head against his hand. His dark eyes settled on meeting her slightly narrowed in concern stare with one of his own.

"I know if you felt anything for Liam," he began, "that you wouldn't have made any attempt to have a relationship with me."

He glanced down when she laced her fingers with his, giving a gentle squeeze of encouragement.

His lips curved slightly as spoke. "I want to be with you."

She smiled at him. "I want to be with you too."

He lifted their clasped hands to brush a kiss to her knuckles. "You don't understand. I don't want to be apart from you anymore than I have to."

She stilled. "What are you saying?"

He scooted a bit closer. His free hand lifted to her cheek. His thumb brushed the corner of her mouth

"What I'm trying to say is that I will wait however long for whatever amount of time you can give me each day." He explained.

Amanda merely stared at him as the full meaning struck her.

He loves me that much to ignore his passion for filmmaking in the hopes of having a few minutes here and there in secret with me while I am forced to pursue another man.

Of all the gestures or words he could have spoken, this particular one took her breath away. She had lived with him, seen his ever growing excitement, witnessed his work ethic, and had listened to more stories of his life as a director to realize that this was not only a huge sacrifice on his part, but also one that he had made without hesitation.

She had thought she didn't have anymore of her heart left to lose, yet he had found a way to steal it all completely once again.

"You don't mind that I wish to attend the rest of the court events and coronation, do you?"

Amanda could detect the worry in what was usually his confident tone.

Unable to find the appropriate words, she shook her head while leaning forward to kiss him.

His hands cupped her face, holding her steady as he returned her passionate response with his own.

She broke away. Her breathing a touch accelerated from the rush of feelings his touch caused.

He lifted his eyes to hers. "I love you, Amanda." He gently pulled her over to straddle his lap when she said she loved him too. "I don't want to say goodnight to you tonight."

She could feel her heart thudding in her ears. Swallowing, she briefly lowered her eyes. "I...neither do I."

Biting her bottom lip, she forced herself to see how he took her confession.

The look in his eyes caused her heart to triple in beat.

A surprised laugh burst from her lips as he quickly ushered her upstairs. The two stumbled into one of the bedrooms, shutting the door behind them. Thomas had left a small lamp on earlier, casting the room in a warm glow.

A soft smile graced his face when he tugged her back in his arms.

"What are you thinking about?" She asked when he simply held her.

"How happy I am whenever I'm with you." Thomas admitted. "Even before we crossed over into romantic territory, just being near you was enough to improve my mood."

"I've felt the same way for a long time." She cupped his cheek, feeling the sparks down to her toes when he placed a lingering kiss to her palm.

Each kiss and caress that followed grew more passionate as they tumbled to the bed. Thomas gazed down at her at one point. The intensity of the emotions he felt with being with her in a way he had only dreamed of had taken him by surprise.

Noticing his movements had stilled, Amanda breathlessly asked him what was wrong.

"Nothing at all." He simply knew in that moment that she was all he wanted, all he would ever want. "I--" he closed his eyes briefly when she instinctively shifted against him.

Her fingers trailed up and down his back while she waited, trying to be patient with this unexpected break.

His mouth claimed hers when he noticed she seemed to be ready to question him once more. He wasn't able to think how to adequately tell her all the feelings she caused. He hoped he could simply show her what his heart was trying to say.

"Thomas?" She bit her lip when he removed her shirt. "There's something I should tell you."

He trailed kisses down her neck. "Hmm?"

"I've never, that is to say..." Amanda stared up at the ceiling. "I mean, why would I? Ladies of the court are expected to behave a certain way and my family has a tradition of love matches and..." She knew she was making a complete mess out of her explanation. "I never..."

Thomas lifted his head. "Never what?"

Her eyes met his heated gaze. She gestured weakly between them. "Done this before."

There was no possible way he could have concealed his shock. "You haven't?" He didn't know how it was possible.

"Well, like I said..." She sighed as she felt the blush rise up her neck and cheeks. "I was taught that my reputation should be maintained and I knew that only love could tempt me into this."

Thomas propped himself up on his side while listening to her.

His undivided attention was making this seem so much more awkward.

Amanda swallowed and felt pressed to explain. "I had crushes, dates, and all. And there were a couple of times I thought it might be love...but not enough to make me engage in...sex."

"We don't have to do anything you aren't comfortable with." Thomas managed to say. He reached for the shirt he had just removed. "I don't want you to feel any pressure to--"

She slid her body on top of his, causing his breath to catch at the feeling of her skin against him.

"I'm in love with you." She muttered against his lips. "Knowing you feel the same way makes me want to get as close to you as I can."

He could see the vulnerability in her eyes.

"The only reason I thought I should tell you was in case I'm not," she averted her gaze, "in case I'm not very good at it."

"You will be perfect." He wrapped his arms around her. "You don't have to worry about any of that." 

He rolled them over and captured her lips in another heated kiss. Within moments they lost once more in the other. Every touch, every sensation seemed so much more perfect since they knew they had the other's heart for their own. There was no shyness, no hesitation, as they held tight to one another with every wave of pleasure that washed over them.

*****************

Thomas couldn't turn his mind off that night. He held Amanda close as she slept, allowing his hand to drift up and down her bare back in lazy caresses.

Something had happened when they made love.

His original plans for when she was done with this suitor mess had become obsolete.

And all because of his heart.

He hadn't expected to lose it completely. He had known his feelings for her were more intense than they had been over anyone else, but this...this was new. So different. So absolutely certain.

He didn't merely want a relationship with her anymore. He wanted her for the rest of his life. He needed her and her love to be his. There was only one situation where that could happen given their lifestyles and location of their residences.

I am going to have to marry her.

*****************

The next few days were spent with the two taking long drives to some of the smaller towns of Cordonia. Thomas listened to the stories she sprinkled in involving herself and either her family or friends. He found himself enjoying seeing this new side to her.

Gone was the stiff and proper duchess that had been present during every court event. She had been relaxed to a certain extent in California, so seeing her in Cordonia as a noble had been a bit of a shock for Thomas. Now that they had a chance to be a real couple, she seemed even more content and at ease around him when they were alone. Her laid back demeanor and humor that continuously brought a smile or chuckle from him had enchanted him.

There were even more surprises in store for the two. Amanda had let all her barriers down. Thomas realized during that he had done the same thing. It hadn't been a conscious decision. Something about her continued to drive him to being whatever was needed to win her over.

The sites they visited were deemed perfect for their film, yet if asked what he would remember most from their travels he would have to say that it was his time alone with her either in the car or in their cottage. They were able to talk about anything or simply sit in silence while reading or watching a movie. The rest of their time was enjoying the closeness that continued to evolve between them. It was something neither ever wanted to lose.

*****************

A few days later...

"Pick up." Olivia muttered when she heard the third ring go unanswered.

"Hello?" Amanda's sleepy voice croaked.

"Turn on your television." Olivia ordered.

"What?" Amanda sat up and blinked. "Why?"

"Do it." Olivia muttered as she hung up.

"What's wrong?" Thomas muttered into his pillow.

"I'm not sure." Amanda reached over him for the remote control.

She turned it on one of Cordonia's news station.

"...for those just tuning in, King Constantine has announced that he will be stepping down at the end of next month." A reporter said while rushing over to where Liam stood.

"Your highness?" He yelled out, "How does it feel knowing that at the end of your social season, you will be crowned king?"

"Which of the ladies do you think is most prepared to be queen?" Another yelled out.

Liam held his hands up to quiet all the questions being thrown at him. Riley stood beside him, blinking at the flashes of lights from photographers.

"Oh no." Amanda mumbled. "Poor Liam."

"What does this mean?" Thomas asked.

"It means that Liam has more stress than before." Amanda explained. "He has barely had a moment to come to terms to being our next king. Now he's pressured to choose a wife who will have to immediately step into the role of queen."

She slumped back against her pillows. "This announcement might make him hesitate in picking Riley."

"Why do you think that?" Thomas pulled her into his embrace.

"Leo's abdication has made the royal family appear weak, at least in some people's opinion. Liam has never had to be tested before since he was only the spare to the heir." She explained. "Now he isn't able to show what he is capable of, leadership wise, before taking the crown since he has to participate in this ridiculous queen choosing tradition." She huffed in irritation. "Now he'll stress over choosing a woman who can easily slip into the role of queen without a chance to learn what all that entails."

Thomas frowned somewhat. "And you don't think Riley can do that?"

"She probably could. With Regina there to help train her, I don't see why she wouldn't be a good queen." Amanda's brow furrowed. "The question is this: is Liam willing to put her through that." She snuggled closer into his embrace as she tried to think what Liam would do. "If they had more time alone together, then he would be able to discuss this with Riley and see how she feels about that aspect of marrying him."

Thomas pressed a kiss to the top of her head. After coming to his own decision about marriage, he too hoped that Liam wouldn't base his choice on anything other than his heart.

"Is there anything we can do?"

Amanda looked up at him, a teasing smile on her lips. "Why Mr. Hunt, are you planning on playing matchmaker?"

"No." He pressed a kiss to her lips. "But given everything Liam has done for us, I would like to find a way to repay him."

***********************

Back at the marina...

"Come with me." Olivia whispered.

Drake barely had a chance to catch his balance as she dragged him toward the docks.

"What are we doing?" He asked once they were out of earshot of the crowd.

"We are going to make certain that Riley impresses Constantine." She stopped him between her catamaran and the Beaumont's monohulled craft.

"We?" He folded his arms. "How are we to do this?"

"By Riley winning the race." She mimicked his stance with a slight irritated tilt to her lips. "You know how impressed the king is with anyone that can sail a boat."

"Yeah, but how are we doing that?" He repeated.

"Bertrand somehow lost his crew." Olivia checked over her shoulder to make certain no one was coming their way. "You will help Maxwell, Riley, and I assume Nadia can at least remain upright long enough to not be in the way, to win this race."

"You expect me and Maxwell to beat out not only your crew but everyone else with a full staff?" His eyes widened. "Liv, your vessel defeats everyone it has gone up against."

"I know." Her smug smirk briefly flashed. "That's why I too will be short a few crew members to help even the odds somewhat." Her eyes narrowed in thought. "We have to make it look like I'm winning until the last second."

She refocused on Drake. "After Constantine's announcement, he will be critically studying all the ladies he doesn't know well."

Drake's stance eased. "Brooks needs every chance to impress him before the Coronation."

"Exactly." Olivia gestured toward the schooner named, Squidsters' Paradise. "Quickly, get on board and be waiting on them."

Drake grinned at her. "I can't believe you're willing to throw the race for Riley."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm not doing it for her, I'm doing it for Liam." She huffed while boarding her own, Knife's Edge. "She's what he wants."

"I still think you are developing a soft spot for her." Drake called out.

"Whatever." She grumbled.

He chuckled at the insults she would occasionally say loud enough for him to hear while checking the rigging.

********************

Back at the cottage...

"The American won! A thrilled Lady Riley Brooks proved once again why she is a favorite among Prince Liam's suitors. She with only the assistance of Sir Drake Walker and Lord and Lady Beaumont, surprised everyone when she passed Duchess Olivia's boat. Prince Liam was witnessed beaming as he and King Constantine hurried over to congratulate her. After the break, we will hear from our panel about the number of Regatta winners who have then gone on to be the chosen spouse by the crown's heir."

Amanda looked up from packing to catch a few shots of Liam and Riley.

Thomas paused in his when he noticed her still. He then saw what she did.

Liam couldn't hide at all how much he adored Riley.

"At least when the court comes to St Orella, I can put them in rooms close to each other's." Amanda said. "If they are placed in my family wing then they won't have to worry about any other suitors interrupting them."

"How many rooms are in this family wing of yours?" Thomas asked.

"There's my chambers," she counted on her fingers. "Then the gray room, which is held for the king and queen. The blue room. That is usually Liam's." Her brow furrowed. "Maxwell and Nadia will need the green one I think for more space. Olivia usually takes the cream and gold one for the views from the balcony. Drake claimed the teal one years ago." She glanced up at Thomas. "I had planned on placing you in the burgundy room next to mine, if you would like."

"I would."

"Good." Her smile was warm. "I'll put Riley in between Maxwell and Drake's rooms." Her brow furrowed again. "I hope she doesn't mind the color lavender. That was my mother's favorite and reason she decorated the room that way."

"How long will it take to drive to St Orella from here?"

"About six and a half hours."

********************

St Orella...

After a lengthy tour of the massive estate, Thomas knew that there was no other place he needed to see to film. Part of the castle was used as a museum of sorts with many rooms remaining as they were centuries ago. The ballroom held him spellbound as he took in the beauty of the honey colored floors, gleaming in the light from the crystal chandeliers.

While he took in the gilded aesthetics, Amanda finalized decisions with her butler and housekeeper for when the court would arrive.

"We will be at Applewood for about eleven days." She explained. "I'll return as early as I can to help finish up preparations." She handed over her lists for menus for each day along with room assignments and seating charts. "If there is anything either of you notice that needs to be done, please don't hesitate to remedy it or to call me." A bright smile graced her lips. "I trust both of you to handle whatever happens."

Thomas watched the two servants puff up with pride as they reassured their mistress that all would be made perfect for her.

Once they were alone, Amanda turned toward him and held her hand out.

"Where are we going?" He asked as he allowed her to pull him along.

"To one of my favorite rooms." She winked at him. "I think you'll approve."

He chuckled at her trying to be cryptic. "I've seen your library." He lowered his voice as they passed by where some servants were working. "And your bedroom."

Amanda couldn't suppress her laughter. "This is something else entirely."

She led him back into one of the drawing rooms filled with antiques and priceless works of art. Her fingers felt along the engravings of flowers and leaves along the fireplace mantle then pressed on a nearby wall.

A doorway was created.

Thomas quirked an eyebrow in silent question.

Taking his hand again, Amanda led him into a dark hidden room. With a flip of a switch, he saw that it was a large theater room decorated in the style of the early 1930's.

"I read that one of my ancestors fell in love with a producer from Hollywood. They used to hold private screenings and wild parties during the beginning of talking pictures."

Thomas took in the large screen, blood red curtains, and decorations that seemed to have been left over from that bygone era.

Amanda wound her arms wound his neck while a smile played about her lips. "Would you like to have a movie date in here, Mr. Hunt?" Her fingers slipped into his hair when he kissed her. "I know it isn't quite like a movie theater, but we--"

"It's better than one." He interrupted. "Because here I can have you all to myself."

"Does this mean you will go out with me?" She teased.

"Yes." He managed to say before they heard a throat clear.

Her butler kept his eyes averted. "Dinner is ready, your grace."

"Thank you, Hudson." Amanda eased out of Thomas's arms. "Shall we, Mr. Hunt?"

He offered his arm as the two walked towards her dining room.

*********************

The next morning, Thomas left Amanda sleeping and headed into the small nearby town.

He walked past numerous charming shops and eateries that had yet to open until he came to the one that Hudson promised would both meet his needs and be discreet. Knocking on the door with the sign still saying that they were closed, he tried to be patient as he waited on the proprietor he had spoken with earlier.

"Mr. Hunt?" A middle aged woman greeted him. "Welcome. Please do come in."

"Thank you." He looked about at the many glass cases showcasing various pieces of jewelry.

It wasn't quite the quality of selection he was hoping to find.

"If you'll just come this way," the woman gestured toward a back door. "I think you'll find this to be more what you described.

Another room of similar size was hidden with displays of larger, more glittering gemstones. A standing safe sat against one wall, which was soon opened by the woman's balding husband.

Necklaces, rings, bracelets, and earrings sat upon velvet padded trays.

Thomas nodded in approval as he searched for just the right engagement ring.

Each one was carefully studied while the couple explained the carat and type.

And then Thomas found it. He knew as soon as he saw it that it was the one meant for his duchess. The six carat cushion diamond ring was perfect. The gold band had an old fashioned sense to it and had diamonds all along it.

The irony of the princess cut diamond was not lost on him and knew it would make her laugh.

After all, she was willing to give up a chance with a prince for him.

He returned to St Orella before Amanda had awakened. With a plan forming, Thomas decided to leave the ring hidden in his guest room. With Hudson's assistance, he hid it in a small dresser drawer that could be locked. Though he wanted to ask her right away, he thought he should at least discuss it with Liam and see how they should go about this.

Thomas then decided he would ask Amanda to marry him the night of her ball.

********************

Applewood...

"I'll see you at dinner." Amanda mumbled as she was separated from Thomas at the top of the stairs.

He nodded with a slight frown forming as he was led in the opposite direction from her. He knew once they were back with the court that they would have to revert to their friendship status. He hadn't expected it to affect him so severely. He knew these next few weeks would be difficult to endure.

It seemed that either the king or queen had decided to assign rooms according to rank.

Amanda's brow furrowed when she was taken down a vaguely familiar hallway, one she hadn't been placed in since she was a young teenager. Often when she would visit Liam here, he allowed her to pick the room she wanted. She usually chose one that lay to the north and had views of the apple orchards that dotted Applewood's rolling hills.

This time she was placed in one on the far side of the estate with a view of the hedge maze. Her luggage was brought in while a maid gave her an update on the evening's dinner plans.

Amanda left her door open once she dismissed the maid in the hopes of seeing just who her neighbors would be.

Her eyes widened somewhat when the king paused in her doorway on the way to his own chambers which were a few doors down from hers.

"Ah, your grace." He smiled at her. "You were greatly missed these last few weeks."

She curtsied. "You are too kind, your majesty." Her answering smile couldn't hide her excitement. "But the absence was well worth it. Mr. Hunt is convinced he can successfully film everything here."

"Good." He beamed at her. "I look forward to hearing his ideas." He left her doorway and knocked on the one next to hers.

"I have a surprise for you." She could hear him say.

The next moment she saw a slightly bemused Liam peek inside her room.

Instead of their normal way of greeting one another, they both fell back to their formal manners as Constantine observed them.

"Welcome back, my lady." Liam flashed a brief grin at her. "I hope your trip around Cordonia was successful."

"It was, thank you."

Constantine chuckled. "I'll leave you two alone to talk."

Once they heard his door close, the two relaxed.

Liam came inside and shut her door. "Now, how did it really go?"

"Perfect." Amanda sighed. "I loved every moment we had alone together."

He hugged her. "That was what I hoped for the two of you."

"What about you and a certain American?" She teased. "Any special time alone?"

"A few." He admitted before grimacing. "I assume you heard the news." He slumped back onto a small sofa. "What a mess this has turned into."

"I saw it on the news." She sat down next to him. "Don't let your father's decision affect your choice."

"Amanda, you and I both know that it will affect it whether I wish it to or not." He rubbed his hands over his face. "Father has spent more time than usual in pointing out which ladies should be on my final list."

"Oh." A slight frown firmed on her lips. "Is Riley on the list?"

"Yes, but only because I pointed out to him how much the people adore her like they did my mother." He turned toward her. "What am I to do? She has never experienced any of the pressures of ruling, but I..."

"You...?" She prompted after a few beats of silence.

"I believe she would be an amazing queen." He said softly. "Her compassion and loyalty would be what the people of Cordonia could always depend on."

"Not to mention keeping their king happy." Amanda pointed out.

Liam snorted in his laughter. "Yes, they would definitely have a more pleasant ruler if I was free to choose her."

"As I recall, you are the one who will be given ultimate power here." She reminded him. "I think that goes along with choosing the lady you care for the most."

"It's more than caring." Heat slowly went up the back of his neck and ears. "I think I'm in love with Riley."

"Then your choice is made." Amanda relaxed back against the cushions and nudged him with her elbow. "I know you have to wait until the end of this social season to tell the world, but I don't see any harm in you enjoying the fact that you have found your queen."

"I wish I had more opportunities to speak with her alone and make certain this is a life she can live happily." His eyes narrowed as he stared off in the distance. "I don't want her to feel pressured into accepting my proposal."

"No chance of finding time here?" She asked.

"Not with Father and Regina inviting senior members of the court to speak to me about their views and such."

Amanda looked about her room. "Where is Riley's room?"

"On the far side, where Drake's room is." He grimaced. "I overheard Father say to Regina that I needed to be reminded of the other suitors vying for my hand."

"Oh." A thought occurred to Amanda. She got up and walked over to a bookcase. She felt around along the top of the third shelf.

"What are you doing?" Liam asked.

"Seeing if I remember this room correctly. If I'm not mistaken, we used to--" she heard a click. "Aha!"

Stepping back, she swung the bookcase toward her room, revealing another door.

"Remember how Drake never could figure out how you and I always managed to win hide and seek together when stuck indoors?" She asked.

Liam's dawning smile was her answer.

"Wait here." He ordered on his way out of the room.

The second door opened, revealing his chambers.

"This is perfect." Amanda whispered, motioning him back into her room. "I'll simply switch rooms with Riley each night once everyone's asleep. Then, we can switch again before everyone wakes up that way your father won't be insulted that we rearranged our rooms."

Liam's eyes widened. "You would give up sleep?"

She laughed with a nod. "I would for you." She took his hand. "You were the one to not only convince Thomas to come here for me, but in finding us ways to be alone." She squeezed his hand. "The least I can do is give you and Riley a chance to be alone in here so that you can decide on your future together."

Liam hugged her tight. "Thank you." He shook his head. "I don't have the words of how much this means to me."

"You don't need them." She patted his back. "Now then. I'm going to go find her and share our plan." She opened up her door and peeped out. "We'll keep this a secret from everyone."

Once she saw that the hallways were busy with members of the court being placed in their rooms, she managed to disappear in the mad shuffle on her way to fix this situation.

[rosyredlipstick]

guess who watched high school musical 2 and got caught up in the ryan/chad of it all: a conchell AU

this is pure 100% cheese. thats ur warning. also unbeta-ed.

Spending the entire summer at their mother’s golf resort had sounded like a dream for exactly 3 seconds, until Mitchell remembered the…. Everything about his siblings. 

When he wasn’t pulling Sebastian away from flirting with all their guests and the entire staff, he was lecturing Scarlett and Drew about taking advantage of the concierge service, making sure Stefan and Valentina weren’t spending too much time in the sun and were definitely drinking virgin cocktails, reigning in Lacey and Sophia’s pranks, and making sure Sabrina was happy in her first summer enrolled in the youth program. Oh, and he was choreographing a major number for the end of summer talent show. So. Full plate. 

Still, it was nice he had convinced Will to come along for the summer. While he was one of Mitchell’s official guests, he had quickly befriended the entire young staff in the kitchens and by the poolside. More than often, when they were on their walks around the resort, Will would no doubt be called out to or greeted by grinning teens in red and white polos. 

Mitchell, used to his friend’s sunflower attraction toward attention, smiled knowingly and let it happen without a complaint. At least Will was enjoying himself--he’d been way too stressed about his pre-med program the last few months and, with Mitchell spending most of his time at the resort trying to rein in his power-drunk sibling, he was glad his friend wasn’t spending the summer alone at the poolside. 

Of course, with all his new acquaintances, that also meant that Will’s tendency to interfere with Mitchell’s personal relationships appeared. 

“I’m telling you, you need to hang out with friends more, you’ve been busy all summer!” Will was smiling brightly. “This is the perfect opportunity!” 

“Yes, the perfect opportunity to intrude on a social gathering!” Mitchell protested, “It’ll be weird if I go. You should just go and have fun, don’t worry about me.” Mitchell sighed, “I don’t want them to be uncomfortable! This is their down time, I don’t want to ruin it by being the boss’s kid.” 

Will rolled his eyes, “It’s a baseball game, Mitchell.” 

Mitchell shook his head, final. “Sorry. But I don’t think so. Text me afterward, okay? We can grab ice cream.” Will said nothing. He peeked a look back to the other boy, “Unless there’s something else?” 

Will sighed and looked off to the side as his cheeks colored. “Okay, listen, of course I really want you there because you’re my best friend and everything but also -” 

“There’s a guy.” Mitchell guessed, bored. Will found the love of his life at least once a week. “Who is he?”

Will didn’t even put up a fight. “I’m not sure if you know him. He works in the coffee shop? Pale, dark hair, sharpest cheekbones I’ve ever seen?”

Mitchell thought for a second, “Nico?” He guessed. Nico, for the past few months, has consistently served him the best caramel macchiato he’d ever had every morning. Mitchell dreamt about that drink, on especially good nights.  

Will melted into a dreamy mess. “Yeah. Nico.” 

Mitchell blew a puff of hair up into the hair around his face, “I mean…” He grimaced, “If you need a wingman or something -”

“Yes!” Will was already celebrating, “Thank the gods, thank you! I mean, I think you’ll enjoy yourself at the game and everyone’s really cool, but yes! Okay, if you could just like, set up a really good opportunity for me and Nico to be together like, alone, I’d so appreciate it -” 

Will continued to ramble about the perfect situation Mitchell could set up, including the ideal mood lighting, when Mitchell interrupted him.

"Is Percy okay?" Percy had just rushed by, looking upset, and hopped in his mother’s car without a word to either of them--odd, as he usually offered at least a hey guys! If not a full on conversation that left Mitchell feeling like a better person for having it. It was kind of his thing. 

"Oh, he's in turmoil because he feels like he has to choose between swimming or singing with Annabeth at the talent show and he doesn’t know which to choose." 

“Oh.” 

Will wrinkled his nose, “Yeah, he’s kinda got his own thing going on right now. I saw him dancing by himself in the golf course earlier, but I thought I’d just give him some space.”

“Smart,” Mitchell commented, growing a bit uneasy as they approached the field. There was a crowd already assembled there with a smaller circle throwing a baseball back and forth. As they approached, a few people called out to Will in excitement but it wasn’t until they were faced with a smaller inner group of people that Mitchell was addressed. 

A tall, smirking guy with wild curls was the first to greet him, lightly tossing a baseball into his own mit as he spoke. “Brought a friend, Will?” 

Will smiled brightly. “Yeah! This is Mitchell.”

“Trust me, I know who Mitchell is.” His humor-filled gaze flickered to Mitchell himself. “Nice to finally meet you.” 

Mitchell’s cheeks heated. “You know me?” 

Travis let out a small disbelieving laugh. “Yeah. Yeah, I do.” Travis elbowed the guy at his side, who shared similar curls and features. “And this is my brother, Connor.” 

“Hello, I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced.” Mitchell held out his hand with a smile. “I’m Mitchell. You’re on the staff, here?” 

Despite the incredibly stupid question Mitchell just asked considering Connor’s bright red LIFEGUARD tank top he still wore, Connor was kind enough to nod along with Mitchell’s obvious question, his eyes wide. Mitchell’s hand, still extended out to him, wobbled in the air. 

He was a second away from dropping his arm and shaking it off completely when Connor seemed to realize that he was waiting for a handshake in the first place and nearly dived for it. In his haste, he almost completely tripped over himself and onto Mitchell. 

“Oh, well,” Mitchell caught him before he could take them both down on the dirt field. “Are you okay? Is it too hot or something?” Connor’s face was strangely pale compared to his brother’s, despite the mid-afternoon summer sun. Mitchell resisted the urge to reach out and touch his skin for sun stroke. 

“So hot,” Connor whispered, in his arms. Mitchell stared down at him in concern.

A girl--Katie, maybe--came up beside him and physically took Connor out of his arms, a tight smile on her lips. “This is nothing, he’s just dehydrated.”

“More like thirsty.” A girl across from them muttered.

Katie continued on like no one said anything. “Let’s get some water in you, dude.” 

Will was smiling on like this interaction was completely normal. “So anyway I was wondering if Mitchell could join our game?” 

“Hmm, well this is an employee-only game.” Despite his words, the light tease in Travis’s voice kept Mitchell from getting nervous about the whole situation. “But it does raise the stakes.” 

That Mitchell could work with. His lips stretched out into a wide grin. “Yeah? What were you thinking?” 

Travis clicked his tongue, “How do you feel about being Captain? I take one team, you take the other.”

He thought it over then nodded. “That sounds fair. What’s the prize?” 

Travis shrugged, messing with the baseball in his mit as he spoke. “Any ideas?” 

Mitchell pretended to think, already knowing what he wanted. With a group this size, his choreo could really expand into something great. “If you lose, you guys have to join my dance group for the talent show.” 

“Hmm,” Travis looked to the girl at his side--Phoebe, he thought, another lifeguard. She once helped him with Sabrina’s floaties. “We’ll consider that. Guys?” The circle of employees gathered a bit closer to talk it over. Will shot him an excited look. 

Suddenly, in the midst of their talking it over, Connor burst from the huddle and pushed his way over to Mitchell. “I’ll give you fifty dollars if you let me on your dance team.” 

“Wait, no -” Travis grabbed his shoulders from behind to push him back, “Connor, we’re trying to negotiate with him!” 

“Oh,” Connor nodded seriously and turned back to where Mitchell was waiting, amused. “I’ll pay two hundred -” 

Katie slapped a hand over his mouth and dragged him back to the crowd, him protesting all the way. Travis looked back to Mitchell, tired. “Just ignore him, please.”

Mitchell watched him sink back into the crowd, something small curled at his lips. “I don’t think I can.”

“Anyway,” Katie was the one to speak now. “We talked it over, that sounds fine. If we lose, we’ll be in your show.” 

Mitchell had to resist punching the air in excitement. “Great.” 

Travis leaned back with his arms crossed, looking him over. “And what do we get if we win?” 

“Well, what do you want?” 

“Dinner and a movie,” Connor choked out, almost like he didn’t mean to.

Mitchell raised an eyebrow, “An catered employee afternoon in the movie theatre?” He thought it over, then shrugged. “I could probably arrange that.” 

Travis rubbed at his forehead, “I - sure. Yeah, that sounds fun.” 

“Alright,” Mitchell smiled with a small shrug of his shoulders. “I guess it’s game on, then.” 

...

Of course, against a batch of peers who had been playing baseball all summer, Mitchell was bound to lose. However, they didn’t lose as hard as he expected. 

After the match, when Mitchell was left aching from the game and loss but proud despite it, Will sunk down next to him at the picnic table. “Good game. I didn’t think you’d get so into it.” 

At the last moment, Mitchell had ended up diving for a ball, completely dirting up his outfit. He had caught it, and it had counted, but two players had already made it home in the meantime. Still, it was a close loss. 

Mitchell smiled slightly. “Me neither. But it was worth a shot at a full dance group.”

Will laughed softly, “Still. Great catch.” 

“It really was.” They both looked up at the new voice--Katie, from before. She’d been on Travis’s team with Connor, Jason, Leo, Annabeth and a few others. The rest of the group was mostly dispersed by now, most of them arranging rides home or plans to grab food. “We haven’t had a game that fun in a while.” 

At her arrival, Will stood and offered her his seat. Which was kind, but also definitely just a ploy to escape and run off wherever Nico was lurking. Mitchell waved him off with a roll of his eyes before returning back to the conversation. Katie took his place without a word. 

“Well, I’m happy to help. It was a good time, you guys work well together.” Mitchell shot her a knowing grin. “I’ll start working out the theatre rental. Any movie requests?” 

She shrugged, “We can take a vote on it. But we’ve also been talking.” Katie had an amused twinkle in her eye. “We’re in. We’ll still do your show, it sounds fun.” 

Mitchell sat up completely, a bolt of excitement hitting him. “Wait, really?” At her nod, he absolutely lit up. “Oh my god, it’s gonna be such a fun show, I promise!” He got to his feet in excitement and threw his arms around her shoulders in a hug, pulling away promptly. “Oh my god, wait, I’m covered in dirt I’m so sorry -” 

She waved it off but stood herself. She, too, was covered in dirt from the game so didn’t seem to care much at any additional. 

He couldn’t help but babble on. “It’s going to be so much fun. You won’t regret it.”

She smiled at him, looking like she was indulging him. “I know. Anyway, just a moment,” She disappeared for a few moments only to return, dragging Connor by the wrist. She pushed him toward Mitchell, almost bumping them into each other. “Connor will be your contact point for organizing this. Trade numbers, will you? For planning.”

“Oh, sure!” Mitchell fumbled to get his phone out and hand it over. Connor’s phone appeared under his hand faster than he thought possible. 

Katie left them alone as he punched in his own phone and name, drifting back to where Travis and a few others were waiting. He handed back Connor’s phone, suddenly closer to the other boy than he had realized. He paused. 

“You have grass in your hair.” Connor breathed out. 

“Oh,” Mitchell dipped his head in embarrassment and rubbed at his head. “Oops.” 

“I -” Connor gestured to his own temple. “Other side?” 

He tried but Connor only stepped forward slightly into his space, reaching out slowly. “Let me -” Mitchell felt a slight pull on his hair, not painful. Connor pulled away with a blade of grass in between two fingers. 

“Got it,” Connor said weakly, staring down at him. 

“My hero,” Mitchell teased. Connor nodded gravely at that, like he was accepting a mission.

Connor licked his lips before he spoke. “That was a really good catch. You’re a good player.” 

“Baseball’s just a dance of its own.” Mitchell shrugged, joking. “What can I say? I’m just that much of a star athlete.” Connor nodded, looking like he completely agreed. 

Before either of them could say anything further, Will called out to him and ran their way, grinning, with another guy at his side. “I heard the news! They’re still doing the show, that’s great!” Will was glowing, “See, coming to this was a great idea!” 

Mitchell stuck out his tongue, “You just wanted to brag that you were right.” 

“No!” Will looked behind where he had ran from and lit up, “Actually, I wanted to introduce you to Nico!” 

Nico, who trailed after him a few steps, walked up beside Will with a sarcastic roll of his eyes. Mitchell liked him already. “Next time you’re going to run off mid-conversation, can you at least give me a warning first? I’ll die before I jog after you in jeans.” 

“You’re the one who wore jeans to a baseball game!” 

“And why not? You think I’m gonna participate in this?” 

“Well, you’re an employee at an employee baseball game. Perhaps I thought you were going to play.” 

“Where would you get that idea? Have you not seen the everything about me?” 

“Hi, I’m Mitchell.” He stuck out his hand with a grin. He could sit here all day, truly, but he did have things to do. “You’re Nico?” 

“That’s me.” He raised an eyebrow. “You look familiar.

“Mitchell is one of Aphrodite’s kids. He’s a good one, don’t worry.” Will explained, shooting Mitchell a wince like he didn’t know exactly how his siblings were. 

Mitchell snorted, “On behalf of Drew and Scarlett, I can’t apologize enough.” 

“That… helps.” Nico winced. “I messed up Drew’s chai latte my first day on the job.” 

Mitchell groaned, “Again, I’m so sorry. I’ve been trying to get them to act like, you know, normal people -” 

Nico cut him off. “We work at a golf club. I get more cranky boomers in an hour than an AARP meeting.” Nico shook his head, “They’re a lot, but definitely not the worst customers to have. At least they tip well.” 

He could have wilted in relief. Across from him, Will’s eyes were nearly hearts. God, he was already lovesick. 

Which reminded him --

“Actually, Connor and I were just leaving. We’ll leave you two be.” Mitchell lightly grabbed Connor’s elbow to start steering him away. “Will, can you get a ride home? I’m probably going to be staying late.” 

Next to him, Nico perked up. “Oh, I can give you a ride? If you want? I’ll have to pick up my older sister but, um, it’s not that out of the way -” 

“I would love to.” Will looked perfectly composed, despite the screaming excitement that must be running through his head. He even managed to grab onto Nico’s hand as he led them away toward the parking lot. 

“Young love,” Mitchell commented, shaking his head fondly as the other couple walked off. “Must be nice.” He stepped back and dropped his hand from Connor’s elbow. “Oh, sorry!” He laughed lightly. “Sorry, I was recruited as Will’s wingman and I wanted to give them some time alone. Cute, right?”

Connor’s throat bobbled. “So cute. Um,” Connor made a jerky movement, like he was gonna run his hand through his hair but decided not to. “So you’re, uh, staying late?” 

“Yeah,” He blew some air up into the hair hanging over his face. “If you guys are gonna join the number, I want to have the choreo adjusted for a group before we start rehearsals.” 

“Cool, cool.” Connor nodded slowly, “Cool.” 

Now that he was closer, Mitchell could almost recognize Connor from his many shifts poolside. His lifeguard chair was almost right across from where Valentina would occasionally drag him to tan in the afternoon sun. Didn’t he once help Mitchell apply sunscreen, when Valentina ran to get slushies right when he was reapplying? 

His hands were cold, Mitchell remembered, or maybe his own skin was just that hot. He shivered when Connor applied the first handful of cream on his back. Mitchell had to advise Connor to take some of the sunscreen himself, after his own skin started to stain red. 

He was kind, was the point. Or at least, that’s what Mitchell remembered. 

Mitchell gestured at his parked golf cart as they approached it. “You want a ride anywhere? I’m heading toward the main pavilion.” 

Something wobbled in Connor’s expression before he spoke. “I could, um, go with you?” He said it as a question, looking slightly nervous as he spoke. 

“Yeah, sure! The employee entrance? Did you forget something?” 

“No, no, like -” Connor made another awkward gesture toward nothing. “Like, if you need help with the number? I could come? I mean, it’s never too early to get started on learning the dance, right?” 

Mitchell smiled, “Oh, sure! Do you have experience with dance routines?” 

Connor nodded confidently. “Yes.” 

“Really?” Mitchell turned to him in excitement. “Have you been in any dance groups before?” 

“Um. No.” 

“Oh, so like private lessons or something? A club?”

“Uh. No again.” His confidence was fully wavering now. 

Mitchell raised his eyebrows, “So what experience do you have?” 

“I sometimes dance in my room?” Connor scratched at the back of his head. “I, um. I didn’t think you’d ask many questions, actually.” 

Despite his awkwardness, Mitchell was… charmed by Connor’s fumbling. 

“Um,” Mitchell bit his smiling lip, looking away then back. “Actually, I was supposed to get ice cream with Will after the game.”

Connor deflated before he could finish. “Oh. Okay, yeah.” 

“No!” Mitchell was quick to correct. “I meant like, with Will going off with Nico, I still want to get it. With you. If that’s okay?” 

Connor’s expression bloomed into something so joyful, Mitchell was almost taken back. “I would… adore that.” 

“Adore?” Mitchell couldn’t help but tease. “Why’s that?” 

“I just,” He turned to Mitchell, his eyes wide. “I just really, really like ice cream.”

Mitchell bit his lip, “Me too. I mean, I really like ice cream. Ice cream is… sweet.”

Connor huffed out a small laugh, “Yeah. I, uh, agree.” He made an awkward little motion with his arm at the golf cart. “Um, shall we go?” 

Mitchell stepped forward and looped his arm with Connor’s. “Actually, I thought we could walk?” 

“I will do literally anything you want.” 

Mitchell laughed, “I’ll hold you to that.” 

To Mitchell’s amusement, Connor’s face turned a dark, dark red. He looked away, his lips pressed together in a small excited smile. Perhaps the baseball game hasn’t been such a bad idea.

[fangirl-writes]

Home Sick

70s!Roger x Reader x Ben

Warning(s): Swearing, mentions of sex, Roger being a little shit

Notes: How does this universe work, you ask. Shhhh, I tell you, just let us live in fantasy land. Aka I watched BoRhap again and I'm a sucker for Rog and Ben. Also very inspired by @strangeandwonderfulconcepts​ ‘s versions of this couple. I feel like it’s kind of all over the place, though.

Summary: Ben's away for filming and you're left at home with Roger who's working on Queen's new album and annoying you.

“Roger Taylor, I swear to God!”

Ben bit his lip as a smile spread across his lips, trying not to laugh at your outburst. He was sat in his hotel room, phone pressed to his ear, enjoying the small amount of downtime he had before filming resumed the next day. “What’s he done now?”

“He keeps poking me in the ass with his drumsticks. Oh!” You (who was back at Roger’s mansion in Surrey) cried out again. “Roger I will throw this lamp at you!”

Ben heard Roger’s muffled reply in the background. He could picture the mischievous grin on his face.

“Oh, so the lamp’s important but that TV you threw out the window- it is not different!”

Ben couldn’t stop smiling. The bickering was a little childish and silly, but it warmed Ben’s heart to hear the two people he loved the most bicker about nothing.

“And put that damn cigarette out! You’ll burn the house down with that nasty habit.” 

Ben could tell Roger was right next to you now as he said. “Ben thinks it’s sexy. Don’t you, Ben?”

“Yeah, well, Ben also thinks you look sexy in leopard print.”

“Hey!”

Ben couldn’t hold back his laughter now.

Both you and Roger were smiling at his laugh on the other end, playfully shoving each other to get closer to the phone so you could hear him.

You let out a squeal suddenly and Ben heard the crash of something that he assumed to be the lamp mentioned earlier. “Honestly!”

He could hear Roger laughing as he ran away. You’d obviously missed him with the lamp.

“God, Ben, I’ve got to go. Our boyfriend is being a pain in the ass and I’ve gotta kiss the brains outta him. Talk to you tomorrow?”

“’Course. Tell Rog, I love him.”

"Of course,”

“G’night, Y/N,” Ben said. “Love you.”

“We love you, too, Ben. Goodnight.”

You hung up and Ben sat there quietly for a moment, the phone still pressed to his ear as he remembered the sound of the laughter. God he missed them.

He’d worked on projects this long before but they’d always been right there in London where he could grab a taxi or have Roger come and pick him up at the end of the day. Now he was out of the country and he realized how much he took for granted the time he got to spend at home.

He assumed Y/N and Roger were accustomed to the situation. Roger was always gone on tour for months after they released a new album and Y/N sometimes had to travel for work, but Ben was always at home with one of them. Now he was the one branching off. 

He set the phone on the nightstand and laid down in the white sheets of the hotel bed.

It felt odd, almost foreign to him; laying alone in a bed. Roger wasn’t there to snuggle his face into his neck or play with the hair at the nape of his neck. Y/N wasn’t there to spoon him or tangled their legs together. No playful fighting over the covers, no cold feet or wandering hands, no drumming of Roger’s fingers against his arm, no Y/N drawing shapes on his back. It was funny to think how much he’d grown accustomed to the feeling of not just one but two people (his two people) laying in bed with him.

He fell asleep with those thoughts and a longing ache in his chest. 

Meanwhile, you were chasing Roger through the house, trying to take his drumsticks from him after he’d poked you in the ass one too many times. The two of you had just finished up doing...things and were enjoying a sweet moment until the drumsticks made a return.

Roger was laughing hysterically and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t grinning from ear to ear.

You were clad in only Roger’s white button up, your underwear, and socks while Roger had opted to only return to his boxers.

Suddenly he was cornered in the kitchen and you jumped onto his back, reaching an arm over his shoulder for the sticks still clutched in his hand, but he’d stuck his own arm out over the countertop so you couldn’t reach them.

“Roger, give them here!”

“Over my dead body!”

“That can be arranged!”

Roger burst into another fit of laughter and you giggled into his ear, still straining for the drumsticks.

You eventually gave up, dropping your hand and laying your head on Roger’s shoulder, breathing heavily as the laughter died down. He dropped the drumsticks on the counter and hooked his arms under your legs to help hold you up; a smile still on his lips and his cheeks sore from laughter.

You closed your eyes and it was silent for a few moments.

“Whatcha thinkin’ about, lovie?” He asked softly.

“Thinking that Ben would’ve been filming or taking pictures of us if he’d have been here...”

Roger hummed in agreement, walking from the kitchen towards the lounge. “I miss him, too,”

You still had your eyes closed, trusting Roger to set you down gently wherever he was taking you. “I wish you weren’t working on the album so we could go see him.”

“Me too. The boys’ve been exhausting lately. I love ‘em, but there’s only so much you can take sometimes.”

“Well, three explosive personalities plus Deacy-”

“Hey, you haven’t seen Deaks mad. It’s scary.”

“Yeah, well, I try to stay on his good side unlike somebody I know who likes to push buttons.”

Roger rolled his eyes as he deposited you onto the couch. You laughed as you bounced off the cushons before laying down, Roger crawling on top of you and laying on your chest.

“We would not fit nearly as well on this couch with Ben,” You commented with a grin.

“Yeah, we’ve tried, though. One of us always ends up on the floor.”

“Or squooshed,”

“Or both,”

You both smile, an ache running through your chests.

“He’s been gone far too long.”

“Yeah, when’s his film ‘sposed to wrap anyway?”

“Not sure. Should ask him when he calls tomorrow.”

Roger groaned. “Tomorrow is so far away.”

You ran your fingers through his hair. “Indeed it is,”

You fell into a comfortable silence after that. You putting Roger to sleep as you massaged his scalp and you lost in thought, staring at the ceiling.

“You think the boys might give you a few days off if I promise them you’ll be less grumpy when we get back?”

Roger looked up at you with a pout. “I am not grumpy.”

“You are too,” You said, a smile spreading across your face. “You miss Ben and when you miss one of us you get grumpy. Like that time on tour when you snapped a drumstick when you weren’t able to call us one night? Or when you busted a tambourine after we weren’t able to make it to the nearest show? Or when-”

“Okay, okay, I get it, I’m destructive.”

You laughed and Roger laid his head back down on your chest. “I suppose they might give that a go.”

“Then I’m calling Freddie,”

*** Ben woke up the next morning reaching out across the bed; searching for warmth that wouldn’t be there. He groaned, heart slightly heavy, as he shut off his alarm.

A shiver ran up his spine as he sat up and he cursed himself for not turning up the temperature before heading to bed. That had been the one advice Roger had given him before he departed. “When waking up alone in your hotel room, the temperature will always be colder than you want it. Check it before bed.”

He didn’t have time to dwell on his heartache before he had to gather his bearing and head to the set for his early shoots, but he missed Y/N’s good luck kisses and, oddly, Roger’s smack to his bottom before he would head out the door for a day of filming.

He shut the door to his hotel room and shook his head, trying to shake the homesick thoughts from his mind.

They wouldn’t do him any good anyway. It’s not like he’d be able to satisfy the ache.

Or so he thought.

***

You and Roger were currently sat on a plane, headed for Ben’s filming location.

Roger’s blonde hair was stuffed inside a cap and he had on a dark pair of sunglasses in an attempt to hide his identity. You’d asked him if he’d dye his hair black but he outright refused the offer.

“Love, I know you want this to be a surprise, but even if any paps or fans see us Ben hardly checks that stuff when he’s not filming. I doubt he’d bother while he is.”

You sat next to him, asleep, eyes closed with your sunglasses on, hair loose around your face, and the hood of your jumper pulled up on your head. Your earbuds playing your favorite music.

It was an early flight and you’d been up most of the night preparing for this spur of the moment trip. You wanted everything to be perfect.

“I can sleep on the plane,” You’d told Roger.

And you did. 

Roger laid his head on top of yours as you dozed on his shoulder, a book held between his fingers to pass the time, but, truthfully, he couldn’t focus on it. For some reason he had a lot on his mind.

The three of you hadn’t gone public with your relationship, but the paps had taken notice of Roger’s “mysterious lovers” and Ben and Roger had been seen talking at a party a few times, heaven forbid, but Roger had never dwelled on it before. You didn’t go to events together, never went on vacations together, Ben and you still had your own apartments away from Roger’s house so when he was gone on tour you wouldn’t be questioned coming out of his house while he wasn’t there; you’d taken practically every precaution to make sure the press wouldn’t find out before the three of you were ready.

Roger dug into his jacket pocket for his phone, discarding the book onto the table in front of him.

He opened social media with good intentions.

#rogertaylorxy/n-l/n

OMG did you see the way Roger looked at Y/N during the interview? #hearteyes

Roger is so in love with Y/N. They should just get together already. #(your-ship-name)

(you-ship-name) is real ❤

Roger resisted the urge to like any of them before moving on.

#rogertaylorxbenhardy

Ben said he wasn’t looking for a relationship rn but he looks at Roger says otherwise 👀

Roger and Ben spend an awfully large amount of time together for two people who claim to be ‘just friends’.

Forget Maylor have you seen the way Hardylor look at each other?

Roger snickered quietly. Okay, maybe he and Ben weren’t doing the greatest job either.

He stroked his chin for a moment before taking to the keyboard again.

#benhardyxy/n-l/n

Y/N and Ben seemed awfully friendly during her interview with him #(your-ship-name)

Have you seen the pictures of Ben and Y/N at that coffee shop together??? I bet it was a date 💘

Y/N brought Ben a flower at the BAFTAs to put in his suit pocket and he never took it out! I bet he still has it.

Observant, Roger thought, Ben definitely still has the fake flower.

He hummed in thought. What if...

#benhardyxy/n-l/nxrogertaylor

Y/N spends a lot of time with Roger Taylor and Ben Hardy outside of a professional setting. Who’s she dating though??? What if it’s both???

OMG BEN AND Y/N WERE SEEN LEAVING ROGER’S HOUSE! IN THE MORNING!!!

I bet Y/N Ben and Roger are all dating and just keeping it on the down low. We’ve all seen the heart eyes they give each other.

Y/N and Roger just got on a plane heading to the place Ben’s filming in as seen by his Instagram story. Coincidence?

Roger’s eyes went wide. He checked the timestamp: 20m ago.

Well, Y/N was right. Maybe he should’ve died his hair.

“Looking for something in particular?” Y/N asked, eyes now opened sleepily and looking at phone screen from his shoulder.

“Not really,” Roger replied. “Just curious. Seems the fans are supportive...and onto us.”

He handed you the phone and you squinted at the screen.

“Queenskiller, huh? Clever person.”

“I can see why you were paranoid now,”

You laughed. “We’re almost there. As long as it’s not obvious where we’re going, we’ll be fine.”

***

“And CUT! Good work today everyone, let’s wrap up for lunch.”

Ben sat up from his position where his character had just been beaten to near death and went to get the fake blood cleaned off of him by the makeup designer.

The radio in the trailer was fading out a Beatles song and fading in Bohemian Rhapsody.

It made Ben’s heart ache.

“Hey, did you see Y/N L/N’s new interview with Harry Styles and Elton John?”

The makeup artist removing the makeup shook their head. “Not yet, is it good?”

“Of course. She asks them about their collaboration, similar tastes in style, and she doesn’t mention their sexualities like every other interviewer does.”

“Thank god for her, she’s a blessing. All those other nosy interviewers don’t ever ask anything interesting. The celebrities always do all the work to make the interview enjoyable. At least Y/N is interesting.”

Ben couldn’t help but smile softly to himself. He was proud.

“Have you heard she might be dating Roger Taylor?”

“The Queen drummer? Yeah. I heard they were getting on a plane together this morning.”

“Secret honeymoon?”

“Maybe,”

Ben’s eyebrows furrowed. They got on a plane? They didn’t mention they were going anywhere on the phone.

“Ben, you okay there, dear?”

“Hm? Oh, yes, sorry. Just lost in thought.”

Ben exited the trailer with a clean face and a wandering mind.

It wasn’t unlike Y/N and Roger to be spontaneous but Roger was working on the album and he thought Y/N had another interview today.

Ben shook his head and pulled out his phone. Whatever. He’d just call them and get things cleared up. He was done on set for the remainder of the evening anyway.

He hit the home phone number and waited as it rang.

And rang. And rang.

“Thank you for calling Roger Taylor’s home phone, but I am currently out at the moment. Leave a message and I might call you back.”

Ben hung up.

Okay, so they weren’t home. No big deal, he could still call your cells.

He hit your contact and waited as it rang.

***

You were rolling your luggage out of the airport with Roger when I Saw Her Standing There blasted from your phone.

Recognizing Ben’s personal ringtone, you picked up the phone. “Hey, Benny, what’s up?”

“Nothing much. Just got done filming. Hey, did you and Roger go somewhere? Makeup artists were gossiping about it.”

You gave Roger a panicked look before quickly answering. “Oh, no. Must’ve been wrong. We’re just out for a walk.”

Roger rolled his eyes at your terrible lying skills.

But Ben seemed relieved. “Oh. I thought you might’ve gone somewhere and forgotten to tell me.”

“Oh no, not at all we just-”

Roger pulled you cellphone from your fingers and pressed it against his ear.

“Ben, you don’t need to worry about us. We’re doing fine.”

The rental car you and Roger had gotten pulled up and you quickly tossed you suitcase in the back and jumped in the passenger. Roger took the keys and got in the driver’s seat.

“I know, but I just wanted to make sure. Kept eating at me.”

“Ben, baby, where are you at, right now?”

“Uh, outside the set just about to head back to my hotel, why?”

“Oh, no reason. What hotel’s that again?”

“Lotus Hotel, why?”

“Just curious. Are they treating you right or do I need to make a phone call.”

“Christ, Rog, it’s find. Don’t freak. Are you driving? I thought Y/N said you were on a walk.”

“Oh, we just got back to the house and need to head to the store. Nothing too interesting.”

“A trip to the store with you is always interesting.”

“He’s not wrong,” you chirped from your seat and Roger sent you a playful glare, making you laugh.

Ben smiled. “Gosh I wish I could speed up the production. I’ve been gone from you two way too long.”

“Believe us, Benny, we agree. Hold on, gonna give you back to Y/N,”

He handed you your phone back as you handed him his for directions to the hotel.

“How was filming?” You asked, trying to change the subject.

“All right. Filmed the fight scene today, that was interesting.”

You hummed in response.

“Hold on, Y/N, I just got in a taxi- yes, take me to the Lotus Hotel on thirteenth please.”

“Thirteenth?” Roger cursed. “Stupid phone says twelfth.”

“It’s on the corner of the two. He’s coming from the other direction, remember?” You replied, hand covering the receiver.

“What was that, love?” Ben asked.

“Oh, nothing, Roger just missed the turn, again.” You quickly replied. “You said you filmed a fight scene today?”

“Yeah, my character, Jack, got the piss beat out of him in a fight. Gets pretty bloodied up.”

“Well, you know nothing can make that pretty face of yours prettier than blood.”

“Is that a reference to my bloody nose? ‘Cause I keep tellin’ you it was a one time thing.”

You laughed. “Just teasing you, baby,”

Ben let out a laugh of his own, leaning back against the leather seat. “I really miss you guys.”

“We miss you, too. I hope that- Roger it was right there! Oh, jesus, Ben, I gotta go, Roger’s missing turns again. See you soon.”

The line cut off before Ben could question you. See you soon?

***

“’See you soon.’?! Bloody hell, Y/N, why don’t you just give away your own surprise.” Roger said.

“Well, if you hadn’t missed the turn I wouldn’t have had to hang up!” You retorted. “We need to get there before him, remember?”

Roger stuck his tongue out at you as he turned the car around.

You stuck yours out as well and it turned into a fit of giggles throughout the car.

Finally, Roger pulled into the hotel’s parking lot and parked the car in a spot.

“Your turn to call him, Mr. Taylor,” You said, getting out of the directions and handing him his phone.

Roger put the phone to his ear and waited for Ben to pick up.

“Roger?”

“Benny! Made it to the hotel, yet?”

“Uh, no, close though. You not driving anymore?”

“Nah, Y/N is in the store. She wouldn’t let me go in with her. Thought I might get a little more chat outta you before she comes back.”

Ben laughed. “I guess I’ll allow that.”

“Popular boy, ain’t ya?” The driver asked as he turned the corner into the hotel lot.

Ben grinned. “Yeah, I ‘spose I am.” He handed the driver the money for the trip. “Keep the change.”

The driver tipped his cap at Ben and Ben got out of the taxi.

“Sorry, Rog, what were you saying?”

“Oh, not much, just wondering who let you walk off set in those joggers. They look hideous.”

Ben looked down at the old green joggers he was wearing with a laugh. “Yeah, I need to get a new pair- wait, how’d you know I was wearing joggers?”

Ben heard a whistle and turned around.

Y/N was waving and smiling from where she was sat on the trunk of a car and Roger was stood next to her, phone still pressed to his ear, with a big ol’ grin on his face.

Ben dropped the phone from his ear, ending the call, and ran over to them.

Roger intercepted his boyfriend, who practically jumped into his arms, and Y/N hoped off the car to join them in the hug. Ben wrapped an arm around her, squeezing the two of them tightly, tears beginning to pool in his eyes.

“Oh, I can’t believe you’re here!” He said, pulling back finally.

You and Roger laughed.

“Y/N’s a bad liar,” Roger quipped, nudging your side.

“Hey! I’m not the one who got lost!”

“I missed one turn!”

Ben kissed them on the cheek. “Shut up, the both of you, please.”

You and Roger melted, forgetting your bickering and appreciating his presence.

***

Ben went to sleep that night with both of you in his bed.

Roger had immediately turned down the thermostat and Y/N rubbed Ben’s shoulders to relax him. They fought over the covers, had a pillow fight, and made sure that Ben was in the middle.

It felt right. It felt like home.

“You two are amazing to me,” Ben said as his partners snuggled into him.

“You deserve it,” Y/N mumbled, laying against Ben’s chest, his heartbeat lulling her to sleep.

“Don’t ever leave us this long again,” Roger said, pressing a kiss to Ben’s neck.

Ben smiled. “Guess you two will just have to come see me, again,”

[solalunar-eclipse]

Team Dark: A Holiday Special

Chapter Two: Shadow

One | Three

Word count: about 6500 words

No warnings, just more angst than last time because Shadow.

Author’s Note: Thank you all so much for the great comments you left on chapter one- it’s really what keeps me writing and posting.

In other news, I believe that Hanukkah started yesterday evening, so to anyone who celebrates that holiday, Happy Hanukkah!

...

It was the dawn of a bright new day, and Shadow stirred as the sun rose, feeling oddly content. His bed was warm, and he was comfortable, and he really didn’t want to get up just yet. Fumbling around on the bedside table for his book, he began to feel even better at the thought of hiding under the covers for another hour or two, curled up reading…

Except his book wasn’t there. He made several quiet irritated noises, before forcing himself to sit upright.

Chaos, he was not a morning person.

This was incredibly frustrating, of course, since he only needed about five hours of sleep a night and tended to wake up early. Coffee beans usually helped with that, though, and some hot water. 

His thoughts now focused on coffee, Shadow dragged himself slowly out of bed, shuddering as the cold air hit his fur. He searched through the clothes he’d brought and pulled out a warm, soft sweater, sighing with relief as he put it on. It was his favorite, too, since it matched his stripes nicely. 

Sliding on a pair of slippers (plaid, fluffy, chosen by Rouge) he padded downstairs silently, eyes scanning the area for his book- and caffeine. He wandered through the main hall, enjoying the view that the large windows provided of the snowy landscape. Still, he wished they’d turn the heating up a little, shuddering as he wrapped his arms around himself tightly.

As he walked into the kitchen, still half-lost in a morning haze, Shadow was fully awakened by the shock of seeing other people up. More specifically, Rouge’s mother and stepmother were cooking. Already. He clamped a hand over his mouth to keep from shouting, and his quills bristled in surprise. 

His friend’s mother startled and dropped the flour she was carrying, while her stepmother yelped and fumbled with the frying pan on the stove. Shadow rushed over and caught the dropped bag before it could explode, his nerves feeling slightly shot from having to deal with so much this early on.

“My bad,” he whispered, placing the flour on the island in the middle of the kitchen. “I didn’t know anyone else was awake yet- sorry.” he finished lamely. The hedgehog began to feel slightly uncomfortable, as both of the other occupants of the kitchen were looking directly at him. Until now, he’d managed to avoid everyone’s notice pretty well at this party, fading quietly into the background after that first introduction. 

He was not prepared to socialize, especially not this early.

Camellia just smiled at him, though, and said kindly, “It’s perfectly alright, honey, we didn’t realize anyone else could stand to get up so early either!”

Rouge’s mother rolled her eyes good-naturedly at Shadow as she walked past him. “You say that like I like mornings, Cam.” she quipped.

He felt awkward just standing in the middle of the room- especially having interrupted their formerly-private moment- so he took a couple of steps to the side quietly. “I’ll just be out of your way now…”

“Oh no, don’t worry about it at all!” the bat exclaimed. “Were you looking for something, sugar?”

Having two terms of endearment directed his way in as many minutes stressed (and slightly flustered) Shadow, and he found himself beginning to retreat into his usual cold persona. The hybrid muttered, “I was just looking for my book. If you happened to know where the coffee is, that would help. That’s all.”

The cardinal handed him a bag of coffee beans, still smiling warmly. “And I think your book’s over there, honey.”

Shadow took his book and turned to walk out of the room, nodding a quiet ‘thank you’ as he did so.

However...the second he set a foot outside the kitchen doorway, he froze. Looking back over his shoulder, he asked, “...how much more do you have to do?”

It would be downright rude to leave his hosts doing all the work, wouldn’t it?

...and why did that sentence sound like someone else had said it?

“Oh! Well, we have the eggs, and the waffles, and the…” the bat began to rattle off a long list of the different things they had to make. “But don’t worry about us, dear, you have your book to read!”

He wavered a moment longer in the doorway, before reluctantly putting the book down. Walking back to stand in front of them, he sighed. “Where are the aprons, then?” he asked flatly.

“Are you sure, honey?” Camellia asked. “You really needn’t trouble yourself…”

Shadow raised a brow ever so slightly. “I’m sure.”

“Oh, aren’t you sweet!” Rouge’s mother gasped. “We usually get help a little later on, but if you really want to…”

“I have a little experience with cooking, but not much.” he warned, taking the apron she offered him and putting it on. (This was true. He only knew how to make waffles and French toast, and that was just because Rouge decided she would go without breakfast if she had to cook.)

The cheerful cardinal pulled him over to the counter, making Shadow startle slightly. “Have you ever made hash browns before, honey? Those shouldn’t be too difficult.”

“No…?” he said, a little confused. “I...I’ve never had those before. What are they?”

“What?” Lila cried out, on the other side of the room. “What has Rouge been feeding you? Well, it’s about time you learned then.” She moved over to stand next to Shadow, handing him a bag of potatoes.

The hedgehog just stared at the vegetables, his mind going blank.

He needed to have his coffee before he dealt with this. Now.

…

Two hours and several handfuls of coffee beans later, Shadow could say that he absolutely knew what hash browns were, having produced enough of them to feed an army. He had also made veritable mountains of scrambled eggs and stacks of pancakes, all while asking ‘Are you sure we need this many?’. He’d thought that the dinner spread was incredible last night, but seeing everything as it was being made only served to emphasize just how much food everyone here needed.

A few other family members had shown up near the end to help out Rouge’s parents, but the real flow of people was only just beginning. Young children were now rushing down the stairs, lured by the smell of breakfast. A few adults began to come down as well, along with Rouge and Omega.

The younger bat looked a little surprised to see Shadow in the kitchen, and he internally cringed as he realized just how bad he must look right now. His quills were tied back in a sloppy ponytail and the apron he’d been given was more than a little long on him. It wasn’t long enough to conceal his slippers, though, and his sweater was rolled up past his elbows, while his arms were covered in flour, sugar, and even a little bit of oil.

“Aww, hon! You’ve been helping!” she said, batting her eyelashes in a blatantly over-the-top manner. She was clearly fighting the urge to laugh at his appearance.

Shadow rolled his eyes. “Don’t rub it in.”

Rouge’s mother bustled up at that, smiling warmly at him. Shadow became significantly more uncomfortable- he was used to having glowers and wide-eyed stares directed at him, not...that.

“He just walked over and demanded an apron, then he got right to work!” she said cheerfully. “He’s really quite helpful, honestly!”

Omega looked at the older bat. “Shadow does not like to admit that he’s helping, even when he is very clearly doing so. His pride is too great to ever admit that he’d do such a thing.”

The hybrid scowled. “That is not true.”

Rouge giggled. “Oh, it’s not, hm? Then what about the time you finished-”

“-don’t you dare-”

“-cleaning my room when I-”

“-now you know how it feels, Shadow-”

“-shut up-”

“-took a quick break, or the time when-”

“Alright, that’s enough!” Shadow roared, leaping at her. Rouge’s mother seemed quite startled at this, but Rouge started cackling just like last night, and Omega looked incredibly smug (somehow), watching as she dodged his attack.

“Just look a little sad, Mom, and maybe tell him you’d be ‘ever so grateful’ and he’ll drop everything to do iiiaaaAAAAH!!”

Shadow had managed to catch Rouge and pin her down on the couch. “Take it back.”

“Never.” she said, smiling sweetly at him.

The hybrid prepared himself to inflict some sort of punishment (messing up her makeup, perhaps, or tickling) when he was hoisted bodily and flung over a very square and very metallic shoulder.

“Umph.” he wheezed in a very undignified manner as Omega hauled him out of the room.

The robot looked very pleased with himself. “Ah yes. Revenge is truly sweet.”

...

“Alright, guys!” Rouge announced after breakfast. “It’s perfect weather out, so you know what we’re gonna do? We are going sledding.”

Shadow- who had been cleaning up and lost in thought- nearly hit the ceiling. “Wait, what?”

“Don’t worry, hon, we’ll get you all wrapped up first.” Rouge said gently, placing a hand on his shoulder.

The hybrid’s body immediately sagged in poorly disguised relief.

Five minutes later, Shadow wore three layers of shirts, a coat, sweatpants, snow boots, thick gloves, a hat, and a scarf. “I look like an idiot.” he growled.

“Would you prefer to be cold?” Omega asked him dryly.

Shadow shuddered at the very thought. Pulling his clothes a little tighter, he was suddenly launched back into the past, a very particular memory running through his mind.

“You ready for lessons today, Shadow?” a young, blond-haired girl asked. 

Maria.

Shadow, at the perky young age of two and two-thirds (eight mentally), leaned on the edge of her bed, smiling. “Always!”

Professor Gerald entered shortly with their lesson for the day- exponentials for Maria and multiplying fractions for Shadow- and began to teach.

As Shadow worked on his problems later, the professor’s voice going on in the background as he spoke to his granddaughter, he began to notice his fingers trembling. Weird.

The longer he worked, the more it spread, until his fur was bristling and his whole body shook occasionally. But he was the Ultimate Lifeform! He was made to be tough!

So he kept on going.

Eventually, his breath began to come short and his teeth clicked together. He accidentally dropped his pencil, his fingers trembling too much to hold it.

Maria noticed.

“Shadow, are you alright?” she asked. “Come here for a second…”

He walked over, trying to keep his legs from shaking and failing miserably. She reached out to touch his arm, but gasped as soon as she felt his fur.

“Maria!” he cried out, worried. “Maria, what’s wrong?”

“You’re freezing, Shadow! Come here…”

She pulled him onto the bed next to her, the warm quilt on it keeping her from struggling as Shadow had.

He let out an involuntary sigh as warmth began to flood his body, melting away the shudders and allowing his breathing to return to normal.

“Strange…” the professor had said, after getting Shadow a warm jacket to wear. “This was unexpected- I didn’t think it was so cold! I know the temperature on the space station is meant to simulate wintertime inside on Earth, but it’s only an indoor climate.” He’d later discovered that Shadow’s DNA predisposed him to get cold easily.

Or as Rouge put it: “You’re half lizard, hon. I’m honestly surprised you don’t spend all day lying on hot rocks when it’s cold.”

That event had led to a lifelong hatred of Space Colony ARK’s air conditioning (and several heated glares at the ventilation system for Maria’s benefit).

And then…

Shadow remembered what it felt like to have ice cover his body. When he’d woken up from his frozen sleep, he’d been filled with a chill he just couldn’t shake.

He’d been able to ignore it in his quest for revenge, but from then until he finally went Super, he had struggled to become warm, even in the tropical heat of the jungle. A cold sensation had settled in his very bones.

But now, he no longer felt frozen inside, and the cold was just an irritation, albeit a slightly more emotionally charged one.

Wasn’t everything.

Rouge and Omega had both been incredibly understanding, though. The bat had never made him go outside when it was cold, and she often dumped armfuls of blankets on him at random moments. (He appreciated it more than he let on.) The E-series robot was more subtle in his support, doing things like handing Shadow an extra scarf before he left their house or silently placing a mug of hot chocolate next to him when he shivered.

And now, they were standing in front of him, having packed all of these clothes for his benefit.

Somehow, Shadow couldn’t find it in himself to complain.

“No,” he sighed, “I suppose I don’t.”

“Alright, guys, let’s go!” Rouge practically dragged them out the door, pushing Shadow up onto Omega’s shoulders and then flying up to grab his hands once they were outside.

“I will never comprehend how such a small being has the power to lift both myself and Shadow.” Omega commented as they took off.

“Lots of practice- hff- and weight training- hh- does the trick.” Rouge gasped, evidently straining to keep them in the air. “I’m- ngh- out of practice.”

“It’s fine, Rouge.” Shadow said, his voice muffled by the scarf. “Take your time.”

Eventually, they made it to a giant hill with an incredibly steep slope. As they trudged up to the top, the (relatively) small hedgehog began to notice just how very angled and high the incline was...

Shadow regretted everything. 

“Are you sure this is a good idea, Rouge?” he asked, watching as Omega lay down on what would have been his chest to be the actual sled.

“Of course, hon! It’s going to be great!”

“Uh…” the hedgehog muttered nervously, even as he allowed Rouge to pull him onto the robot’s back. “I…”

“Alright let’s go.” Omega said quickly, firing his rocket boosters.

Rouge whooped and Shadow (to his eternal shame) screamed as they blasted down the hill at top speed, flying across a patch of ice at the bottom and skidding to a stop several yards away. Panting heavily from his adrenaline rush, Shadow fought to get his thoughts in order. “That...that was….”

“Awesome!” Rouge shouted. “We’re doing that again!”

“...alright?” Shadow agreed. It wasn’t like he had much of a choice, but it was a little fun.

The next time, Rouge tried lying down and yelled the whole way- not being able to see where you were going made things a lot more scary. Omega tried carrying them up to the top of the hill as well, completely eliminating the usual grind of dragging a sled up the slope that came with this activity. Shadow got into it eventually, clearly enjoying himself despite the fact that he never quite yelled like Rouge as they careened wildly downhill.

Eventually, Rouge convinced Shadow to try lying down as well. “Don’t worry, hon, I’ll hang onto you and make sure nothing bad happens.” she reassured him.

“Okay...okay. Just make sure you hold on tight.” Shadow groaned, clinging to Omega with enough force to strain his fingers.

They blasted off down the hill and Shadow shouted in surprise- this was so much more intense! He felt every bump and jolt all the way down, but it was all fun.

Until Rouge yelled, “Omega! Tree!!”

Shadow gasped, startled. There was a tree and it was coming up-!

Omega fired his left booster, spinning them far away from the tree. Unfortunately, that meant spinning literally, as he’d majorly overcompensated for the potential collision. Whirling around in a circle, both Shadow and Rouge were thrown off. The bat managed to catch herself mid-air with her wings, but the shaken hedgehog wasn’t quite as lucky.

Shadow’s vision went completely white. For a moment, he feared he’d hit his head- but it was only snow. He sighed in relief.

That feeling didn’t last long, though, as he felt the cold begin to seep in from all sides. Panic wormed its way into his chest- and then when he tried to move, he could only push helplessly against the lightly packed material.

Calm down. It’s only snow. Rouge and Omega will be here any minute now.

He took a deep breath.

And another.

And then Omega was there, clasping his hand to pull him out of the snow, and Rouge was sitting on his shoulder, looking worried but pleased to see him alright. 

“I’m so sorry, hon, I didn’t mean for that to happen…” she said sympathetically.

“Neither did I.” Omega added, and Shadow noticed that the robot wasn’t quite looking him in the eye.

The cold was quickly banished with yet another reminder of just how much his friends cared. “It’s fine. I just…” He looked away, a little embarrassed. “I did what the therapist told me to do and just breathed, and waited for you.”

“Awww, that’s good, hon! Tolja therapy’d help somehow.” Rouge smirked at him, but it was all warmth and kindness underneath.

Shadow shuffled awkwardly in the snow. “It seems that way...I’ve decided to keep going with it, after all.”

“Excellent.” Omega said, and Shadow felt even better. “Now we should get back. Shadow appears to require the immediate application of blankets and hot cocoa.”

The snowy, slushy hedgehog was not in the mood to protest, and simply said, “Yes. Now.”

...

Two pairs of red eyes narrowed in a face-off. It had taken their owners over an hour to get to this point- the final competition. The winner of this match would be crowned champion.

About half of Rouge’s family watched, holding their breath as Shadow opened his mouth to speak.

“E-4.”

“Miss.”

“Dammit!”

Shadow didn’t care one bit who might hear him swear right now, his teeth gritted and mind racing a mile a minute. He was supposed to be good at tactics and strategy, yet here he was losing at Warboat. Badly.

Three of his ships, covered in red markers, lay slain off to one side. Meanwhile, Omega had only lost one and a half of his. Accursed computer processors.

The hedgehog was certain that Omega would have a gigantic grin on his face, if it were possible for him to produce one. As it was, he stared constantly at Shadow, even as he moved his markers around.

“C-6.”

Shadow felt relief flood his very soul. “Miss.”

It didn’t take long for Shadow’s fourth ship to get knocked out, even as he still searched for Omega’s third. He was getting trounced, and he knew it. Yet still, somehow, he had a shred of hope.

But then, two rounds later, he snarled furiously when Omega switched his LED eyes from full circles to half-moons- an evident hint at a smile.

“H-2.”

Shadow’s stomach dropped. “No!”

“Yes.” the robot said proudly, before planting a red marker on his board. 

The hedgehog began to search frantically for Omega’s ship, his moves becoming increasingly random and less thought-out as imminent destruction closed in.

Finally, something happened. “A-1.”, he muttered, resigned to his painful end.

“...hit.”

“Yessss.” Shadow hissed, somehow feeling triumph despite his imminent defeat. 

“Yay.” Rouge remarked dryly from the spectating area. “Consolation prize.”

“Shut uuup.” he whined petulantly, before realizing how very relaxed his demeanor had become. Straightening his back and smoothing down his quills, he allowed that familiar blank expression to settle back into place. “No distracting the players, please.” he added coolly.

Was it him, or was that a flash of...disappointment he caught from her?

Anyhow, he lost on the very next turn. Grumbling quietly, he went to sit down on a couch as Omega partied loudly with all of the children, blasting up-tempo dance music from his speakers.

It was one of the children (such sweet little kids, some of them were) who suggested that they make trophies. Pulling out cardboard and paper to draw on, they quickly made little certificates and gold, silver and bronze medals. One parent found some ribbon to thread through a punched-out hole, and then the little ones all scrambled to set up a proper ceremony “like on TV”.

As Shadow bent down to receive his handmade medal and crayon certificate, he knew without a doubt that this was being saved. For good.

…

Later, Shadow was relaxing in his bedroom when Rouge’s mother walked in, Omega following behind her.

“Oh, good, I’ve found you!” she said, her voice bright as always, but...off, this time. “Would you mind coming with me for a minute?”

As Shadow followed her out of the room, exchanging bewildered looks with Omega, he realized what the strange tone was.

Her voice was brittle. Fragile. As though it might break if one of them spoke wrong.

They entered a different room, one high up and far away from the rest of the party. Rouge’s mother stood in front of them for a moment, pulling at her sweater before deciding to sit down. She looked at her gloves for a moment, clearly thinking…

And then promptly burst into tears.

The two were incredibly startled at this, and despite both being relatively...emotionally inexperienced, they gathered around her to try and help. 

“Uh...I...is something wrong?” Shadow asked, immediately kicking himself mentally. Of course something’s wrong, people don’t cry if everything’s perfectly fine!

Omega, thankfully, got straight to the point. “What is it?”

“It’s...no, no, it was...Rouge.” the bat said, her voice sounding choked.

“Rouge?!” Shadow’s quills bristled. “What happened?”

“She...when Rouge came back. From her two years, you know, away-”

Shadow and Omega did know, now.

“-she came to the party two years ago, and she was different. She was cold, and distant, didn’t talk, and only laughed a- at people, not with them.”

Rouge? Cold and distant?!

“She wouldn’t talk to anybody about her life- the only reason I even knew she worked for G.U.N. was the logo on the paychecks she sent. When she stopped sending those, after I told her the news about Camellia- she took that well enough, but after that...I heard nothing. Nothing, for almost ten months.”

Omega’s eyes were wide, and Shadow was sure his own were as well.

“A-and then one day, she called me up. Her voice was different. Warmer. Happier. She apologized for her silence, and said she’d been in a bad place. I blamed myself, and accepted her apology, of course. She had to grow up so young, do so much all by herself… and she paid the price for it...for a while.

“And then I happened to look at an old article a couple weeks later, and I realized why she was better- and I couldn’t believe I’d missed it. My baby girl, in the news! And of all the things...fighting a world-renowned supervillain alongside the likes of Sonic the Hedgehog!

“But that wasn’t why she was better. No, when I started searching the internet frantically and saw her perched on the shoulder of a massive black and red robot, laughing uproariously- when I finally worked up the courage to go to her social media pages and saw, not darkness and pain, but her with an arm slung tightly around a young striped hedgehog, flashing the biggest smile I’d seen in years, I knew.”

Shadow’s hands were jittery and he really wished his heart would stop beating so loudly.

“It was both of you. I never found out the specifics as to how she met you two- I hope she’ll tell me the story someday- but you saved her from all of it. She had coworkers, sure, some nicer than others, but you gave her friends, and ones who understood her position at that.

“And this year- getting into a snowball fight! Telling silly stories at the dinner table! She would never have done that last year, mark my words.”

Rouge’s mother was smiling broadly through her tears now, looking at both of them. She reached out and hugged Omega, tightly but quickly, and did the same for Shadow, leaving him dumbfounded. “Just- I-

“Thank you.”

Shadow sat there for a minute, unable to do anything other than keep a hand on her shoulder. Suddenly, though, he noticed some movement by the door, and spun around to see Rouge standing there, absolutely silent as mascara-filled tears streamed down her face. Her hand was clamped over her mouth, presumably to keep from making any noise. 

“Rouge?” her mother asked, startled.

“Mooommmmm….” she whined, her own voice sounding tight- and then she rushed across the room and into her mother’s arms. “I love you, Mom.”

Shadow tried very hard to ignore the burning sensation just behind his eyes.

“You’re right. About, like, all of it.” Rouge said quietly, once she was finished crying with her mom. “Nothing here mattered to me when I was out there every day being, basically a soldier, y’know?”

She sighed, wiping more tears from the corners of her eyes, and stood up. “I think now’s a good time to say something that I’ve been thinking about for a while. Sorry if it isn’t perfect-” she laughed thickly- “I’m not exactly in the best state right now.”

Rouge’s mother smiled at her. “I’ll give you three some privacy, then.” she said gently, closing the door on her way out.

After she left, the younger bat resumed her impromptu speech. “Okay. Omega....chaos. Omega. Ohhh man.” She pointed at him. “That day? When you busted out of heckin’ nowhere and started blasting your machine guns like mad? O-one of the best days of my life. Wanna know why? I met you.”

Omega looked very fixedly at a point on the wall behind her.

“You literally carry me places. You crush our enemies with your epic missiles and fists of steel. You helped me prank Knuckles so bad he was checking everywhere for traps for the next week. You’re so fun and I just. You. Awesome. I can’t explain it properly right now but hopefully I’ll get to do a lot more of that later. You’re the best ever.”

“I…” Omega sounded like he was at a loss for words. “I am...honestly extremely flattered by this statement. I will continue to carry you places and destroy all who oppose us.”

“Awesome.” Rouge grinned.

“Aaaand Shadow.” She wheeled to face him, and the hedgehog in question attempted to mentally prepare himself and failed horribly. “You. You are so cool there are no words to describe it. And I don’t mean because you own a motorbike or you dress in all black or any of that stuff. 

“I mean because like half the people who’ve been important in your life so far have been trying to kick the ever-loving hell out of you...and yet you get up each and every single time they do it and win. Honestly...I’m proud to know you, Shadow. And I hope you know that if you need me, for anything ever, know that I will give up the Master Emerald in a hot second to help.

“So yeah. And you’re the first guy I’ve ever met who’s actually willing to talk makeup- let alone likes it. The one who tries all the new restaurants with me. And the only person I will ever know who can somehow handle going to the mall with me more than once in a week.” Rouge finished with a smirk. “I guess you really are Ultimate.”

Everyone in the room who had tear ducts was currently using them. A lot.

Shadow sniffed furiously and wiped tears from his eyes. “Th- thank you…” He cursed internally as his voice betrayed him.

“Oh yeah, get ready for more.” Rouge warned him. “There’s more.”

The hybrid’s throat tightened in response.

“You know how I said, before we came here, that you guys meant as much to me as my real family?”

“Yes?” Omega asked, his voice sounding a little quieter than usual.

“To heck with that. You guys don’t have to, like, change anything because of this, but you are my family. You’re both my real family. As real as Mom is.” Rouge said, her words shaky yet determined. 

Shadow felt as though he’d just been struck by a bolt of lightning. Dazed, he swayed slightly, clinging to the edge of his seat. 

Family?

Is...is Rouge...is Omega….

He began to hyperventilate just thinking about it, just considering that after all he’d been through, after everything he’d lived through- at the end of it all, waiting for him, right now, was a--

“Shadow. Shadow, hold your breath.” Omega reminded him, and he shut his mouth and clasped his hands tightly for a minute. 

A family? My family?!

“I- yes. Please. Yes. Family sounds good.” Shadow managed to stammer.

“Well, then!” Rouge said, looking pleased. “Now I get to assume the official Big Sister duties of kicking anyone who dares look at you wrong and buying you food.”

Shadow blushed a little. “Rouge. I don’t need protecting like that...”

“I know, but since when’s that going to stop me?” she asked. “And don’t start complaining- being the baby brother’s the good life, from what I’ve heard.”

A fresh wave of tears poured down his face at the words ‘baby brother’. 

Of course, that was when Omega decided to go completely off the rails. “Am I the middle sibling or the youngest?”

Shadow and Rouge stared at him for a second. Then they both started laughing wildly, the toll of the various emotional highs and lows hitting them all at once. 

“M-middle one.” Rouge gasped out eventually. “Definitely, the attention-seeking middle sibling.”

Omega made angry eyes for a second, but reconsidered. “Fine. That...yes, that works.”

“Family group hug?” Rouge suggested, smiling warmly at them both.

Shadow nodded weakly. “F-family group hug.”

Omega picked them both up and held them tightly. “You both will always be my favorite organic beings.”

“Thanks, Omega.” Rouge said, squeezing them both a little tighter.

…

A couple of hours later, Shadow was pulled out of his room for the third time in two days, again by Rouge’s mother. “Sorry to bother you, honey, I just wondered...would you mind giving us a hand with dinner? You were such a great help with breakfast that Cami and I had hoped....”

Curse you, Rouge.

So now he was in the kitchen. Again.

Only things were very different this time. Now, there were about ten people in there, all rushing around in some complicated pattern and carrying hot, cold, cooked, uncooked, and various other kinds of dishes all over without running into each other.

Somehow. 

Shadow, despite feeling very overwhelmed and (strangely) underqualified, took one step into the fray- and immediately jumped several feet straight back as he was nearly mowed down by one of Rouge’s auncles rushing past with some sort of casserole.

“Sorry, kiddo!” they yelled over their shoulder, handing off the dish to someone else before sprinting back across the kitchen. Seconds later, another relative vaulted over the island in the middle of the room to get to the sink as quickly as possible, while carrying a semi-full plate that he somehow managed to keep steady.

The hybrid suddenly remembered several battles and sparring matches that he’d participated in. This...actually looked a lot like those.

He locked eyes with Rouge’s stepmother. She didn’t have time to say anything to him, instead just tilting her head in one direction. Shadow’s eyes snapped to a frying pan left unattended and knew what he had to do.

He took a running start and launched himself clear over several people’s heads before sticking the landing right in front of the pan. Several people applauded, and one person- the vaulting relative from earlier- frowned, having been severely upstaged.

So it was a competition, then?

Shadow looked directly at him and smiled like a feral shark.

...

The wild food preparation/parkour show finished with several people throwing the food to each other across the room like in a musical (Shadow thanked his lucky stars that he’d caught his- it was made of glass), and he decided it only existed because Rouge’s family was extremely over-the-top.

Immediately following that, everyone gathered around for another large dinner, during which Shadow only ate a little. And after too many more embarrassing stories, everyone gathered into a room to watch one of those cheesy Wintersweek romance movies that always came out in droves at this time of year.

Shadow said that they were all incredibly cookie-cutter style stories, each one following the exact same plot. Rouge claimed they were uplifting, fun stories and that she didn’t care if they were all the same. Omega liked to categorize all of the things that were wrong with them, so he was willing to sit with Rouge as she watched them.

The hybrid had scoffed cynically and walked away, filling the kitchen sink with water in the next room over and making a big deal out of clattering the plates around that he planned to wash.

Romance movies were so overrated.

Shadow could still see the screen through the doorway (not that he wanted to), and despite his wishes, the movie kept distracting him. He couldn’t stop himself from looking up to see what was going on.

It appeared to be a classic enemies to lovers story, as currently the shy young woman with a rock band shirt- who also happened to be the main star (cliche alert)- was glowering furiously at the trendy, popular blonde movie star. Who was, of course, berating the main character for her poor customer service.

At a coffee shop.

Shadow sighed loudly.

And of course, just as he’d suspected (he wasn’t paying that much attention to the movie all these films were the same really) they both ended up competing. In a Wintersweek cooking competition.

The movie star was confident she would win. Her film crew was ever-present, taking all the best shots of her as she ‘worked’.

Obviously, the main character was determined to beat her through hard work and skill. She was fully prepared to show this star just who she was dealing with…

...and all that and so on. Shadow rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to the soapy water.

And then (this movie was like every single other one!!) their partners both came down with an illness that wiped out several other competitors as well. So naturally they were forced to work together. And of course they worked well, too.

(Shadow had stopped working on the dishes by now. Somewhere around here, he’d forgotten to look away.)

By the time these two had begun to look past each other’s flaws and see the real person beneath them, his eyes were riveted to the screen. It was still bad, he told himself, even as he watched every move they made. It was still bad.

They were working together now, smiling slowly and talking quickly and sometimes, occasionally, laughing. The obligatory hands-touching-by- accident scene happened. The two looked into each other’s eyes.

Shadow couldn’t decide how he felt anymore. Confusing emotions swirled inside him.

The kiss scene. (He saw it coming a mile away.)

The awkwardness. (Just to build up the tension.)

Their lips meet. (And a little voice deep down inside Shadow whispers…

 ...that feels right.)

The hybrid didn’t move a muscle for the next several minutes of the movie, refusing to miss a moment.

The couple won the competition. Of course, he thought, some form of rational thought returning to him. That was to be expected.

As the movie ended on their celebratory kiss, Shadow began, strangely, to feel as though someone had just punched him in the chest. When the credits rolled, he left, walking away from the movie, trying to get rid of this strange sensation.

He heard the click of Rouge’s high heels follow a minute after. And then the stomp of Omega’s ironclad steps.

Folding his arms, he tried to project an I-don’t-care attitude. Unfortunately for him, Rouge and Omega could a) tell that he was projecting said attitude and b) figured out quickly what he was really thinking. Curses.

“Was it the movie?” Omega asked bluntly.

The only acknowledgment Shadow gave was a slight twitch of his shoulders up and down.

“Did you hate it?” Rouge questioned.

Again, just a twitch of the shoulders.

They both studied him for a second.

“No…” the bat whispered, her teal-shadowed eyes widening. “No, you liked it! You liked it!”

“I did not!” Shadow spat furiously, more venom than he’d intended finding its way into his voice.

“You did.” Omega said. It wasn’t a question.

“I mean…” he sighed, looking away. “Let’s not talk about it, okay?”

“Come on, Shadow…” Rouge said, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

“Please?” Omega asked.

The hybrid groaned. “I...it was just- it wasn’t good, are we clear? It was just sappy. But. If you insist. I suppose...romance...argh. I can’t say it!”

“It’s okay, hon, just be patient.” Rouge said soothingly.

“Ugh...I mean...I’ve never dated someone before. Is it...really that nice?” Shadow muttered. His eyes narrowed, daring them to taunt him.

Omega looked at him, curiosity sparking in his eyes. “You want to date someone?”

“Wh-no, not like that! I- I mean...not just anyone…” he sputtered.

“So you’ve got someone in mind, then?” Rouge smirked at him, raising a brow.

“No!” he snapped, his eyes wide. “I- just meant- promise me you’ll never set me up on a blind date, are we clear?”

“Promise.” she said. “And I’m not crossing my fingers, either.” The bat waved both of them in front of her to demonstrate.

“However, we will force you to converse with others at future social events.” Omega declared. “I have heard that this is the first step in a successful relationship.” 

Shadow scowled, but without any real heat. “Don’t you dare.”

Rouge giggled. “No more sulking edgily in the corner for you, emo-hog!”

He groaned. “Are you both turning against me? Really?”

“Of course we are.” Omega remarked. “That is exactly what family is for.”

“I don’t know whether to feel flattered or irritated.” Shadow grumbled.

“Flattered. Definitely~.” Rouge quipped with a wink.

“Ugh. Well, I’m going to bed now. I’ve had enough of this nonsense.” he sighed, stalking out of the room.

“Aw, come on, Shadow!” the bat said teasingly. “Don’t you want to watch the sequel?”

The hybrid spun around so fast his quills nearly sliced up the doorway. “I’m sorry, the what now?”

“The sequel.” Omega repeated flatly. “You know you do.”

He hesitated.

“Fine.” Shadow growled through gritted teeth, his hands occasionally clenching into fists. “But only if I get to run commentary with Omega.”

“Sounds fair!” Rouge chirped, flying off with the other two right behind her.

As they walked away, Shadow in the back, he allowed himself a small, secret smile. They truly cared about him, and he knew they only wanted to see him happy. The teasing was all their way of showing affection. His eyes began to glimmer softly with a faint hint of happiness as fond thoughts and memories drifted through his mind. One sentence, though, stood out above all the rest.

I love my family.

[yoiku]

beep boop it’s an update on what’s going on in yoiland and how the main brain computer fried itself this time. It’s a long one!

So I got a letter on the 1st of July stating that I’ve been admitted into the big boi hospital for the proper tests/evaluation for ADHD and/or other neurological/behavioral issues. The paper said that I shoud be getting an invitation within the next 6months, and my goodness if time hasn’t been weird since then. Two months have passed and it feels like it’s both gone past really fast and agonizingly slow at the same time??? I’ve also been a real emotional rollercoaster because I decided to drop off my SNRI medication, and well, that’s been pretty rough. I gave it a slower drop off at first like instructed and for a few weeks after the effects had worn off I was feeling pretty great, I was able to find joy in little things again and it was great! ...Until I got that very familiar feeling of not being good enough again while I was trying to work on some art I owe to friendos. And to make things worse, when I tried to reach out for a meeting with a nutritional specialist for weight control purposes (this is a thing i’ve been trying to gather up courage to do for fucking years now.) I got straight up denied... because I don’t have diabetes(...yet). This on top of the pile of self loath I had already accumulated... Man that hit me like a truck hits a critter on a highway, and I went straight into suicidal mode in a matter of a few days. I’m not gonna go into detail about those few days, but long story short, I ended up popping my old doze of the SNRI pills to regulate my emotions for a few days. They make me unable to rest properly (can’t get more than a few hrs of shallow sleep -> constantly tired or high wired) but they also make me a mostly emotionless blob, so they helped in that moment. I still don’t want to continually take them though, they make me feel so understimulated about everything :/ I should meet up with my doc about it, but I already know he’s not going to have any new options for me before the ADHD thing is out of the way. Just gotta wait for now, ugh. I guess I do now have a better grasp on how the meds have affected me overall though, so going forward regardless of what those neuro test results will be, I feel like I have feedback to offer now.

Overall I feel like over this summer I’ve really gone backwards with my mental health. I don’t leave my apartment for 3-4 weeks at a time again, and when i do go out it’s like 10min trip to the grocery store to get something. The absolutely horrific heatwaves during june/july/august did not help. Not going out or getting even the slightest of excercise makes me really fucking tired, frustrated and hurty all over, all the time. Yet doing something about it all is hard when going out the door feels like climbing mt. everest with a spoon for an ice pick or something.

On a brighter note, autumn is on the door now and the cooler weather and darker nights are starting to give me better vibes. It’s nice to have a distinct day and night again. I’ve been able to resume my habit of drinking coffee on the balcony while it’s cool/cold out late night or early morning. It’s really cozy and gives me the Good Vibes™.

On the creative side of things, the vibes are still pretty bad. while on the meds I wasn’t getting much feelings about making art, not good or bad, so i generally didn’t really feel like drawing. No stimuli there so why bother? Now that I’m off meds I have a burning urge and the feel that I really want to create... But I’m also stuck in the self loathing pit again, feeling like shit about everything I make. The process is fun but the results make me want to never create again, so it gets more and more difficult to start a creative process, because I feel like it’s gonna make me feel worse anyway! >:/ Can’t have nice things, sigh. Still, I’m fighting that vicious cycle of feels right now, and I know it -will- ease up at some point. I just wish I was able to flip that switch in my head when I want to or need to, instead of having to wait and fight every goddamn time. I also should be starting another period of social/work rehab next month, and now that majority of people are double vaxxed for covid here, those workshops can operate local again. So I should be having a reason to leave the apartment at least twice a week then! I have so many plans and hopes on what I want to do with my life(and art), but all of them are being held back with all this mental health nonsense I have to deal with. I’d really love some healthy stability instead of this stagnation in my life x_x Still alive and occasionally kicking though.