#one of my friends said ‘coke eyes’ I’m CACKLING

[bitchesuntitled]

Three Months

Dieter Bravo x F!Reader wc: 4,490

Summary: Dieter wants to sleep with you, so you propose a deal. Warnings/Tags: MDNI 18+, best friends to lovers, mentions of drugs and alcohol, Dieter being well... himself, Dieter getting sober, fingering(f!receiving), unprotected PinV(be smarter than this IRL folks), I believe that's it but if I missed anything let me know! A/N: This would be my submission for my own Get Dieter Sober challenge! Don't forget peeps there's still time if you wanna submit something! Thank you @beefrobeefcal and @jennaispunk for lending their eyes for this one!

Masterlist||AO3

divider provided by @saradika-graphics

“Dee,” you let out a frustrated sigh, flinging yourself back on his bed, “We’ve been over this!”

“Oh, come on!” Dieter whines, “You’re hot, I’m hot. What would be the big deal?”

“Just because you want to fuck someone doesn’t mean it should be me!” You huff, rolling your eyes. Dieter flops beside you on his bed with a frustrated groan.

“It’s not fair,” he whines, laying on his side and propping his head up with his fist. “You’re my best friend! Why wouldn’t I ask you? It wouldn’t change anything just because we sleep together.” He tries to argue. “Plus, it’s not like we haven’t fooled around some.”

“We were both drunk,” you bark out a laugh, “I don’t think that counts. All we did was make out on your couch and you fell asleep dry-humping me.”

“Could try again.” He suggests, wiggling his eyebrows. 

You’ve lost count now of how many times he’s tried this during your years of friendship. Dieter gets this wild hair up his ass convinced he wants to sleep with you, only for someone else to come along and occupy him. You roll on your side to face him. Eyes roaming the features of his face: his pouty lips with his bottom lip stuck out further as he begged, the aquiline shape of his nose, and lastly, his big brown eyes, bloodshot and wide pupils from whatever substance he took today. Pills, coke, booze, you name it, Dieter Bravo snorted or ingested it. You smirked, an idea forming in your head.

“How bad do you want to fuck me, Bravo?” You ask in a sultry tone, your fingers scratching through the scruff of his jaw, leaning into him, tracing your nose softly against his.

“Really fucking bad.” He breaths out, his lips ghosting over your own, stretching his neck, attempting to slot his mouth over yours.

“Then I’ll make a deal with you,” you smirk, running your fingers through his thick brown waves, pulling his head away from you.

“Okay.” He giggles giddily as you loosen the grip on his hair, “What are you thinking?”

“Three months — no drugs, no booze, no sex,” you let out breezily, “Then I’ll let you fuck me.”

“What?” Dieter all but shrieks, eyes widening at your proposal.

“You heard me,” you say, booping his nose with your index finger, “You want to fuck me so bad. Need to be sober for three months.”

“What am I supposed to do for three fucking months?” He asks, flopping onto his stomach on the bed.

“Be sober.” You shrug, letting out an evil cackle, and gently pat his back.

“Deal,” Dieter grumbles into his comforter. “Three months will fly by.” He huffs, shrugging. “I’ll be fine,” he mumbles more to himself.

—

He looks up from his phone, watching the party around him. Women and men gyrating on the makeshift dance floor. A week into this deal with you and he feels fine. He won’t cave. A handsome brunette offers him some random pill but he declines, making his way through the house.

“Hey, Dieter!” someone shouts from a room off the hallway he’s been walking down.

“Hey man,” Dieter said, popping his head in through the door. “Guess I found the chill party, huh?”

“Have a seat.” A skinny redhead with tits trying to spill out of her top says, patting the spot next to her, “We can have fun in here.”

Dieter gulps, nodding his head as his eyes take her in, making his way to the spot next to her on the couch. When he sits down, he feels his phone vibrate in his palm. He looks down to see you sent him a message.

I know you went to some party tonight. Don’t forget our deal.

Dieter: Why do you hate me?

I don’t hate you. 😘

Dieter: At a party with a redhead sitting next to me with tits the size of bowling balls. You hate me.

You can back out at any time.

Dieter: NO! Why’d sex have to be off the table?

“Want some?” The redhead asks, offering Dieter the joint in her hand. He shakes his head with a polite no thank you, redirecting his focus back to his phone. He chuckles, reading your message.

You got tested, doofus. I’m not going to sleep with you if you’re not clean. 

Dieter: What if I get tested before we fuck?

No.

With a sigh, he pockets his phone, trying to pick up what is being discussed around the circle of people passing the joint around. He spends the rest of his time at the party in this small room, trying to steer clear of greater temptation down the hall. Dieter wouldn’t have even come to this party had his manager not forced him to. Something about socializing with some model and trying to get on a director's good side. Who the director and model were, Dieter had no idea. All he could think about was you, wondering what you were doing, if you were even serious about this deal. 

“Are you sure you don’t wanna hit this?” The redhead purred, leaning into his side, her breasts brushing against his arm.

Dieter clears his throat, trying his best to avoid looking at her cleavage. “Nope. I’m good.” He murmurs with a shake of his head.

Since the moment he laid eyes on you, Dieter knew he wanted to fuck you and wasn’t about to lose his chance now.

—

“Being sober is so fucking boring!” Dieter whines, sitting on the opposite end of his couch, snatching the open KitKat off his coffee table. “I don’t get why people do this.”

“Dieter. It’s been a month.” You huff, rolling your eyes as he takes a giant bite off the chocolate bar.

“I’m jus-“ he continues to chew, “I’m just saying, it’s boring! I don’t know how you do this.” He says after swallowing the sweet treat.

“Find a different hobby,” you say, shrugging your shoulders, picking the lint off your leggings, “I don’t know what to tell you, ya big baby.”

“I’m not a big baby!” Dieter huffs, tossing the KitKat back onto the coffee table. “I don’t have any hobbies besides fucking, drinking, and drugs!” He says, leaning towards you, his arms caging you in against the arm of his couch. Your throat feels dry suddenly, taking in his steely expression, “How am I supposed to release all this stress?” He asks, quirking his brow, his mouth so close you can smell the chocolate on his breath. Dieter gently kisses the corner of your mouth, his lips making a soft trail from your jaw to your neck, “Hmm?” He asks, waiting for a response before his teeth gently scrape that spot behind your ear.

You let out a soft whine feeling his hard length against your thigh.

“No!” You bark out, gently pushing him away from you, attempting to catch your breath. “Not the deal, bucko. It’s only been a month.”

“Fine,” Dieter huffs, sitting back on the couch and folding his arms across his broad chest. “Then what the fuck am I supposed to do with this?” He asks, nodding his head towards the tent in his pants.

“You’ll be fine.” You say, giving him a pointed look and grabbing the TV remote to turn something on to distract you after whatever that was. “Do we need to watch The Lion King?” You ask, a grin spreading across your face.

“Why? So I can be even more confused about my feelings for Scar?!” He laughs, grabbing his crotch and adjusting himself. “He’s a bad guy but maybe he’d be fun.” He adds with a shrug

“You’re so fucking weird.” You laugh, shaking your head, nudging his shoulder with your own.

“Fuck off,” Dieter grumbles, scooting his hips down to get more comfortable and stretching his arm across the back, “Actually, no. Come here,” he says, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you closer to his side. You lay your head on his shoulder, breathing in his scent with a smile. He lets out a sigh, laying his cheek against the top of your head. “I like this,” he whispers as you find a movie to watch.

“What?” You whisper, scooting closer to him.

“New hobby.” He hums, placing a kiss on your head, “Cuddling.”

You roll your eyes, biting your lip to keep from smiling. You are really beginning to like this Dieter. Sober Dieter is a lot sweeter.

—

Dieter sits in his art studio, contemplating what to paint. The drugs tended to spark that creativity in him, his hands moving mindlessly until some weird fucked up masterpiece was sitting in front of him. Except now. Now he sits wondering what he’s even doing in the room he’s avoided for weeks upon weeks. Unable to make that same spark come to life, staring out the window to his backyard. Maybe I could do a landscape, he thinks.

“What the fuck am I thinking?” He groans, throwing the paintbrush down in defeat, “I’m not fucking Bob Ross.”

He grabs his phone, opening it to the first thing he sees, a message from his dealer.

Hey Bravo. Been a while man, you good?

His palms begin to sweat, fingers itching to respond. What would he even say?

Sorry, your highest-paying customer is sober.

Hey, yeah everything’s great!

Actually everything is really fucking bad.

Can I stop by?

Then a notification pops up that you shared something on Instagram, deciding to click on it, his focus is immediately on you. He smiles, seeing the selfie you posted. You, with your soft lips, your sweet smile, your eyes twinkle like you’ve got a secret you’re not ready to share. Just you.

Dieter had a hard time admitting to himself that he loved you. Not the kind of love shared between friends but more. 

The first time it popped into his brain had been during a drug-fueled bender when you took care of him during and after, reminding him to drink water, laying in his bed with him because he didn’t want to be alone, scratching his back, and putting up with his demanding whines of discomfort.

The second time had been during a drunken night where he was trying to forget about his feelings. Only for him to wind up banging on your apartment door at four am, when he cried himself to sleep on your couch about how much he loved you, while you softly exhaled and shook your head with a pitiful face and told him  - Dieter, you’re drunk.

The third time and when he finally accepted it was the following morning, waking to the sunlight shining brightly into your living room. His body and head feeling so achy, slumping off your couch, making his way to your room. He smiled watching you deep in sleep, comforter wrapped around your shoulders and legs sprawled out. He let out a soft sigh, his feet slowly padding to your bed, nudging your shoulder when he was close, softly whispering - scoot over - before slipping under the covers as you created space for him, observing the crease of your eyebrows as you moved, the little pout of your lips, and the twitch of your nose as you slept. This is what he wanted to see every morning for the rest of his life. You.

He let out an exasperated sigh, putting his phone down to stare at the blank canvas again.

“Fuck!” He exclaimed, quickly grabbing some paint and squirting red, yellow, blue and white to his pallet. Not even noticing the joint he’d left last time he was in this room on the side table as inspiration finally struck.

—

“Dieter!” You call out as you open his front door being met with silence as you make your journey further into the darkened foyer, “I got those tacos you like!” Trying to coax him out of wherever it is he’s hiding.

You’re certain he’s changed his mind on the deal you’d made. It’s been weeks since you heard from him, past the three month mark now and the only reason you’re here is because he hasn’t been answering his phone and worry was getting the better of you.

“Dee?” You try again, flipping lights on in each room you pass until you come to the kitchen, “This isn’t funny dude.” You shout, setting the bag of food on the counter before going in search of him.

Making your way deeper into his home, you notice a light shining from under the door to Dieter’s studio. You can hear movement on the other side of the door.

“Dieter?” You ask hesitantly, tapping the tips of your fingers against the door. “You in there?”

You hear a groan before distinctly hearing something plunk to the ground. Taking a deep breath, you push the door open to see Dieter lying on the floor in front of a blank canvas. Paint is splattered all over the place, his paint brushes skewed about, and a cup he kept close by lies on the floor, surrounded by a murky puddle of paint-infused water.

“Dieter,” you hesitate, approaching his still form. “Hey, man. Get up,” your foot reaching to kick against his leg lightly. His speech is slurred as he grumbles, something you can’t decipher. Well - at least he’s still breathing, you think, furrowing your brow.

“Come on, Dee.” You sigh, feeling defeated. Hunched over his form, “Let’s get you to bed.”

“No,” he murmurs as you turn him flat on his back. “Stay here,” he groans out, eyes tightly squeezed shut like a toddler who just got woken up from his nap, reaching his arms out towards you, waving them in the air until his hand makes contact with your arm. Dieter moves on his side pulling you down with him, wrapping one arm around your shoulders and the other around your waist, a satisfied hum leaving his chest.

“Dieter,” you let out an annoyed huff, “This is great and all, but uh- why the fuck are we on the floor?”

“Sleep,” he murmurs into your hair.

“I am not sleeping on the floor.”

“Shut up,” Dieter whines, tangling his legs with your own. “I want sleep.”

You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head against his chest as he holds you against him. His breathing calms as you lay there in silence on the floor of his little studio, wondering what it might have been that he took this time. 

“I made it,” Dieter huffs against your hairline. As if the thoughts in your head were seeping through like osmosis into his brain. “Three months. No drugs, no booze, no sex.”

Your head tilts up, eyeing him suspiciously.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” he grins, bleary eyes raking across the features of your face.

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Bravo.” You give a teasing glare. “So you really made it three months?”

“Mhm,” Dieter hums with a shit-eating grin. “Bet you didn’t see that happening.”

“No, I did not.” You comment, quirking your brow.

“I need to…” Dieter pauses, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth, “I need to show you something.”

He gently moves you away, propping himself up to stand. “Ew,” he fusses, looking down at his soaked sock standing in the murky puddle of water. “Why’d you let us lay so close to that?!”

You scoff, rolling your eyes, giving him a pointed look.

“Right.” Dieter says bashfully, extending his hands to you, “Come on.”

Dieter gently pulls you to stand with him before taking a deep breath and leading you to the spot, the place he always puts his latest project to admire and contemplate, on the wall.

“So, I realized something during this three month stint.” He starts, clearing his throat before continuing. “I uh… Well…” he steps forward, turning on the singular light above the darkened spot on the wall, revealing a painting of you.

“Oh my god,” you gasp, shocked that this is what Dieter has been working on. A galaxy seeping into a meadow surrounding your face. The blues and purples of the galaxy blend in beautifully with greens and yellows of the meadow. The expression of your face stunning against the canvas. Is this how Dieter sees you?

“I’ve been working on this for weeks now.” Dieter mumbles shyly, scratching the back of his head, “I don’t know how to do this or how to make you believe me but…” he pauses, taking in a deep breath, “I love you.”

“Dee,” you murmur, taken aback by his confession, surging forward, wrapping your arms around his neck, one hand gripping the back of his neck to bring his lips to your own in a desperate kiss. Your fingers weave through his hair, gripping him to you tighter, sweeping your tongue against the seam of his lips he opens his mouth to let you in.

Your mouth trails down his jaw to his neck. “A- and not just like a friend but more than that. I know you’re probably gonna be all Dieter, you didn’t stick to the deal but I swear I did.” He hisses as the pulse in his neck thrums wildly against your lips, “I just-“ he gasps, feeling you lovingly bite against his pulse point, arms wrapping around your waist in a tight grip, “You initiated the bet - for me to get sober, and then I did. All these years I was doing all that shit to try and drown the noises inside my head but they aren’t so loud once I actually hear what they’re saying and the main thing they’re saying now is I’m an idiot for not being honest with you.”

“Dieter,” you let out an annoyed huff, looking into his melancholy russet eyes, “I love you too, okay? Now shut up.”

“Amazing,” he breathes out with a dopey grin, leaning forward to meet your lips again. You groan as his tongue slips between your lips, exploring your mouth with fervor. He guides you backward until the desk that sits in his studio bumps the back of your thighs. His hands glide down, cupping the back of your thighs, lifting you on top of the desk.

“Fuck,” you yelp, letting out a breathless laugh as his lips meet yours. Your hands reach for the bottom of his shirt, slipping underneath to feel the warmth of his skin against your palm.

“I love you,” Dieter breathes against your jaw, lips trailing down to your neck, “So fucking much.”

“Love you too,” you moan, bunching the shirt he’s wearing up his torso. He breaks away, letting you sweep it off him with a toss to the floor. Dieter grins, tugging your shirt off, reaching behind your back to undo the clasp of your bra with one hand, slipping the thin material off your shoulders to expose your chest to him.

“Nice,” Dieter hums, massaging your tits in his hands, brushing his thumbs across your nipples, “Always wondered what these bad boys looked like underneath.”

“Fucking christ,” you huff, rolling your eyes, “So fucking weird.”

He smiles devilishly before nipping your pert nipple gently, sucking it into his warm mouth, swirling his tongue around it. You let out a soft moan, feeling the ache between your thighs become more persistent. Fingers carding through the soft, wavy curls on his head, pushing at his shoulders.

“Off, " you demand as your hands grip the waistband of his pants, trying to push them down, “Off.”

“Easy,” Dieter smiles, slowly pushing his pants down, cock springing free and standing proudly.

“Fuck me,” you whisper in shock, taking in the sight of his length. Thick and long. You had a good idea, considering how many mornings you’d woken up with the thing poking you in the ass, but to see it hanging heavily between his thighs was monumental. He grunts when your hand reaches to touch him, squeezing him firmly at the base.

“Your turn,” Dieter hissed, grabbing your leggings. You let go of him, helping to lift your hips as he quickly tugged them down your legs. “Fuck me,” he utters, taking in the dark patch of your underwear, his hands rubbing up your thighs, teasing the soft skin of your inner thigh.

“Dieter,” you gasp, gripping his bicep, his thumb making tight circles around your clit against the cotton of your underwear. He hums, laving his tongue against your collarbone, licking a line up your throat as his fingers push the gusset of your panties to the side.

“Fuck,” Dieter pants, feeling the wetness between your folds. His fingers sliding up and down your seam, coating his fingers in your slick, teasing your entrance with the tips of two thick fingers.

“Dee,” you whine, breath hitching as your hips squirm on top of the desk when he pushes his fingers in torturously slow. “I need more.”

“You’ll get more,” he rasps, his fingers continuing their slow movements. In and out. In and out. In and out. His thumb moves to that bundle of nerves, alternating between sweeping back and forth and drawing firm circles around your clit.

You feel the pool of arousal building at the end of your spine, warmth spreading through your limbs like a wildfire. Your breath quickens as your walls tighten around his digits.

“Oh god,” you moan, gripping his bicep firmer, “Fuck. Dieter, you’re gonna make me come.”

“Come for me, baby.” He whispers against your ear. Fingers scrubbing against your walls faster, deeper until they hit that spot inside that feels impossible to reach on your own.

“Oh fuck!” You cry out, throwing your head back as the flames within consume you whole. Your back arching, pushing your chest against his, “Dieter,” you whimper, head resting against his shoulder as his fingers work you through your orgasm.

He scoops you up, flipping you over his shoulder, carrying you out the door of his studio, down the hall to his room.

“Dieter!” You shriek, giggling knowing he must be a sight to see right now. His heavy member bouncing between his thighs as he marches with you over his shoulder. “What about your back?!” You ask, grinning, taking notice of the walls of his room.

“Don’t fucking care,” he says, flipping you onto his bed, pushing your legs apart, creating space for him between your thighs. He crawls up the length of your body, arms resting on either side of your head. His cock pressing against your thigh, realizing what is to come next. “You sure you wanna do this?” He asks, his lips barely touching your own, breathing each other in, causing a dizzying arousal to pool in your tummy.

“Yes,” you breathe, hands trailing up the expanse of his back, gripping his shoulders. He grips his shaft; a breathy moan escapes you as he slowly strokes your seam with his tip. “Dieter,” you plead, nails creating half-crescent moons into his shoulders when his tip catches on your entrance.

“I got you,” he croaks, repeating himself as he pushes in, “I got you.”

“Oh fuck,” you gasp, feeling your walls make space for him inside your warmth. He lets out a hiss as your nails dig deeper into the skin of his shoulders, definitely leaving marks he’ll see tomorrow.

“Oh my god,” Dieter groans, his head coming to the crook of your neck, pushing his cock in deeper until you can’t decipher where you begin and he ends. You moan, feeling so incredibly full. You never knew sex could feel like this, and it’s barely even started. He holds still, allowing both of you to get used to the feeling of one another.

“Dieter,” you pant, squirming against him, “I need you to move.”

“Fuck me.” He grunts, feeling your walls clench around him. He slowly pulls out before thrusting back into your heat, his hips creating a slow, deep rhythm. “You’re so fucking perfect.” he whimpers, tongue flicking across your sternum. “So,” thrust, “fucking,” thrust, “perfect.” thrust. You release a broken moan into the room, the sound of skin slapping filling the air around the both of you.

“Harder,” you beg, “Dee, please. Harder.”

He releases a shattered breath, sliding one hand down your side and around your hip, bringing your leg up to rest against his ribs before snapping his hips into you.

“Dieter!” You scream out, back bowing off his bed. It feels so intense. His cock shredding up into you at this angle, hitting that spot perfectly just like his fingers. Your muscles begin to tense, thighs shaking as he continues thrusting into you at a frenzied pace.

“I’m not gonna last long,” Dieter admits, sitting up on his knees, grabbing your ankle to place your leg against his shoulder, staring down at you, watching your tits bounce with every firm thrust he gives you. “So fucking hot,” he groans, his hand sliding down your leg to your center. You let out a ragged moan as his fingers lightly pinch and pull your bundle of nerves, the impending wave of your orgasm getting closer and closer. “Need you to come, baby.” he all but begs, the muscles in his stomach tensing, trying to stave off his own orgasm, “I’m so fucking close.”

“I’m close,” you pant, nodding your head, “So fucking close. Kiss me.”

Dieter wraps your leg around his waist, collapsing on top of you, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss. The band in your stomach tightens more as your tongues massage one another, your walls fluttering around his cock, beginning to milk him for all he’s worth.

“Fuck,” Dieter whines, hips stuttering, feeling him pulsate inside of you, painting his come against your inner walls, pushing you over the cliffs edge as your pussy squeezes around him tighter. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck!” He whimpers, slumping against you, head resting between your breasts, trying to catch your breath.

“That was the best sex I’ve ever had,” Dieter murmurs against your sternum, placing a chaste kiss before peering up at you. “Worth the wait,” he adds with a wink.

“Was pretty good, Bravo,” you sigh with a nod. He lets out a hiss as you clench around him.

“Stop that,” he says, pulling out with a groan and flopping beside you on the bed, lying on his side, arm propping up his head, facing you. “Ya know, I really wasn’t looking forward to the whole being sober thing.” He admits, with a mock frown, “But it isn’t that bad.” he adds with a shrug.

“No, it’s not,” you laugh softly.

“I thought it would be worse than it was, but I kinda like it,” Dieter smiles, hovering over you, “Especially since it led to this.” He places a kiss against the corner of your smiling mouth, “And if I stay sober… will this keep happening?” He asks in a whisper, hesitantly awaiting your response.

“Dee,” you hum, “You got me. Just gotta take it day by day.”

[wazzappp]

NO SKIN SUNDAY!!

[tellthatbrokebitch]

fuck it, snippet from future fic in the stick season au verse, after byler fighting and calling a tentative truce

Mike follows him into the kitchen, pausing to look around with interest. “So, you cook a lot, huh?” he asks, wincing immediately afterwards like he regrets the question.

“Hm, when I can find the time. Or when friends drop by unannounced on my day off and demand breakfast.” He sees Mike wince again at the pointed jab and forces his tone to soften. “I’m joking, Mike. I’m grouchy first thing in the morning.”

As he sets about pulling cartons and jugs from his fridge, Will swears he hears a quiet “I remember” somewhere behind him. He bites back a reluctantly fond smile and turns to set his loot out on the island. At Mike’s obvious confusion, he gestures to the plastic cup in Mike’s hand. “I’ve got orange, apple, and grape,” he lists off, “or, if you don’t want juice, I have some Coke, or I have my Brita filter. If you’d prefer something hot, I could make tea or coffee-”

“Will.” Mike is giving him an entirely new look now, something less confused and more fond. “It’s okay. I’m okay with whatever.”

Will frowns. “It’s not okay, Mike, I’m just-” he sighs. “I’ve been sober now for so long that I forget it’s different for other addicts, being around friends who still drink. It doesn’t tempt me anymore, so it’s habit to just supply alcohol for everyone-”

“I get it, okay? Well, mostly. I’m not mad at you, Will. I’m not upset.”

Damn him. Damn him. The familiar burn of threatening tears builds behind Will’s eyes, burns at his throat. It isn’t fair. Mike’s been gone for a decade, left him behind for so long - then he waltzes back into Will’s life, and within a week he’s reading Will just as easily as he always did, digging right down to the heart of him.

He casts his gaze downwards to cover the emotion he knows always bleeds through too easily and clears his throat. “I was going to make myself some coffee and make Max tea,” he says, avoiding the questioning tilt to Mike’s head.

“Tea sounds good - unless it’s chamomile.”

“No, no chamomile. Not baby-safe. I have…” Will crosses to the cabinet above his Keurig and eyes the selection. “Peppermint, ginger, green, oolong, chai, earl grey.” He squints. “Some orange-spiced shit El bought and never drank.”

Mike hums. “The orange sounds good.”

Will twists to stare over his shoulder. “Seriously?”

He shrugs. “Why not? Adventure is the spice of life.”

“Pretty sure I said it was orange-spiced, but whatever, it’s your funeral.” Will pulls out a packet of the orange and one of the peppermint before his own words register and he freezes. His head tilts forward and hits the cabinet door with an audible thunk. “Shit.”

“It’s fine.”

Somehow, Mike’s forgiveness just makes him feel worse. With his forehead still pressed into the wood, he lets out a frustrated laugh that sounds more like a groan. “My inability to keep my foot out of my mouth doesn’t bode well for the rest of the night.”

“Will.” Mike’s voice is closer now, to his left. When he lifts his head to look, Mike’s leaning against the fridge, and his smile isn’t even the least bit sad. “You worry too much. I’m not going to break down into tears if you mention Ted’s funeral, or my sobriety, or - I don’t know - peeing my pants in Click’s class.”

“Okay, but maybe I will. Did you ever think about that?”

“Nooo, you? Big macho mechanic man?” There’s that teasing note to his voice, so familiar, and it throws Will back in time, to him teasing Will for misplacing his house key, for losing a game after shamelessly cheating, for getting an unwanted Valentine from Charlotte Grant from fifth period. It’s second nature to groan and say, “Shut up, Michael!” on a childish whine.

It’s worth the brief flash of embarrassment for the way it makes Mike throw his head back and cackle the way he always hated when they were kids, the way Will always loved. It’s a happy sound, happy in the way Mike hasn’t been all week.

It’s impossible for Will not to notice the air of palpable sadness that followed his old friend like a stormy cloud. Well, it was easy to ignore in the beginning, when the hurt and anger was still fresh, when he was still avoiding Mike like the plague. But since their talk, or fight, or truce, it was obvious.

The truth is, even after a decade apart, he can still read Mike - his moods, at least - and no matter how successful Mike is now, no matter the money, the notoriety, the fame - he’s not happy.

based, of course, on a song from the stick season album, primarily this one:

honey come over

the party’s gone slower

and no one will tempt you

we know you got sober

there’s orange juice in the kitchen

bought for the children

it’s yours if you want it

we’re just glad you could visit

feels like i’ve been ready for you to come home

for so long

that i didn’t think to ask you where you’d gone

so why’d you go?

[0nlythrowharrybeaux]

Oooooh I’m 100% all over number threeeeeeee please!

WARNING! (18+) for mentions of illicit drug use

Y/N couldn't tell you what Harry or his friends were thinking when they called her up at nearly 1am to see if they could stop by and pick something up but not what she sold in her dispensary, is specifically what Tyler had shouted in the background. She just shook her head with a grin and responded with a "yeah, sure."

And that's how 20 minutes later Harry, Tyler, Mitch, Tom, and Jeffrey filed into her apartment looking like a band of robbers. She assumes they were trying to look inconspicuous, but it was May in L.A., meaning it was already hot and they were all in hoodies and sweats with their hoods over their heads. Harry, Mitch, and Tyler looked particularly “inconspicuous” with the sunglasses over their eyes. At 1am. She cackled as she shut the door behind them.

"You guys look stupid." she said through a chuckle as she walked into her apartment's living room to see Tom, Tyler, and Jeffrey sitting on the couch while Mitch and Harry busied themselves with looking very intently at some embroidery hoop of Van Gogh's Starry night she had hung up against one of the walls.

"Y/N, can I have this?" Harry asked, she sniggered at the fact that he still had his sunglasses on.

"No. You may not."

"Why not?" he pouted.

"Because I really like it, OK?" she said and he huffed and turned back to it, "Are you all high?" she asked them.

"Yeah, but them more than us." Jeffrey said.

"And you drove here from Malibu?"

"No, what the fuck! We took an uber, OK? I mean a $75 uber, but that's only because we're responsible adults!" Tyler scoffed and she giggled.

"Yeah, I can see that." she teased looking at the three men before her, not sure who to direct her attention to knowing that they were all high. She then flickered her eyes over to Harry and Mitch who had removed the embroidery hoop from the wall and were talking about who knows what quietly as they pet at the threads. "What did you take?" she asked instead as she giggled.

"They took like half their dose of shrooms." Tom said and she nodded, "So not too much and we just took two of those edibles I got last week. They are potent, s'good shit." he said and Jeffrey nodded in agreement.

"Why thank you." she hummed. "So what do you want?"

"I need coke, I have to work while the ideas are pouring in and the THC is fucking with my follow through." he said and she smiled, she knew full well what he meant. "Just an 8-ball, yeah?"

"OK, I'll be right back." she said and headed off to her closet where she kept her safe.

She did have some drugs other than weed for personal use, but she didn't normally do side deals like this since this was her personal stash. Every now and again she would just sell a bit or share from her own stash for close friends or people she trusts, like now. Tom and Jeffrey had both been customers of her dispensary for many years and they became her friends. Then, when Harry became friends with them he would come to her store or contact her if he wanted anything. She had sold other things to him about once or twice over the years. She grabbed the little baggy of coke and locked up the safe before heading back out to find most of them in the same position as before except Harry, he was in her kitchen rifling through the cabinets.

"Here." she said tossing the baggy to Tom before hurrying over to the kitchen.

"What do I owe you?"

"Nothing, we're good. I've had it for a few months and haven't really been interested in taking it. Don't want it sitting there too long and going to waste, you know?" she called back, "Can I help you with something?" she asked with a smile.

"Was looking for a glass." he mumbled, "Also your face is melting. You should, probably get that checked with your doctor." he said with a small pout.

"OK, I will." she said with a smile before she headed towards the cabinet where she stored her glasses and reached for one. "Do you want room temp or cold water?" she asked him turning back to him. The key to these things is to just treat people normal as to not overstimulate them.

"Do you promise?" he asked her, "To get it checked? Like you're so pretty and it would suck if you stayed looking like a melted ice cream cone, y'know?" she giggled at his incoherence.

"Yeah, Har. I promise." she responded and decided on just giving him cold water from the jar in her fridge. He drank it down quite quickly and she poured him another glass before asking everyone else if they wanted water, which they all said yes. Soon enough, she was back before Tom and Jeff who were giggling at something so much so that their faces had gone red. Tyler was listening to music now and Harry and Mitch were sitting on the floor in the middle of a thumb war as they laughed their heads off. Oh the joys of being on drugs...

"Are you sure about the coke?" Tom asked her once he had calmed down from his laughing fit.

"Yeah, dude. Don't worry about it."

"The closest uber XL is 40 minutes away." Jeffrey mumbled.

"Shit, really?" Tom sighed and Jeffrey nodded.

"Do you mind if we wait here?" he asked Y/N.

"Of course not. But if you want I can drive you guys? Might have to squeeze in the back seat, but I don't mind. Save you some money." she said.

"We're all the way in Malibu, s'that OK?" Tom asked and she nodded.

"Yeah, s'cool."

"Do you want to crash there, s'pretty late? There's rooms there and all, I'm sure these guy'll just crash in the live room or something." he suggested.

"If that's OK?" He nodded and assured her it was fine. So she just threw a change of clothes and her face wash and toothbrush in a tote before rounding them all up.

The drive was fun, they all took turns choosing songs and well, one could imagine how a bunch of drugged up musicians sounded like all piled in a car together. It was chaos, but it was fun. When they finally arrived at the studio Tom let them all in and they all filtered into the lounge. They were all chatting and laughing as Tom started to split a few lines with the keycard to the studio's gate. He offered everyone a line and Y/N declined as she just immersed herself into the delicious couch. Mitch excused himself, presumably to get to bed and Jeff was now passed out on one of the gigantic bean bags in the lounge. Tom ended up splitting a line for himself, Tyler, and Harry. She knew Tom and Tyler would be alright, but she wasn't sure how often Harry did drugs like this, as in mixing things, so she was glad she was sober to keep an eye out on him. They all migrated to the control room and it took about 10 minutes for the drug to hit and Tyler and Tom just started going for it. Harry was sitting across from her on the little bench against the window and it looked like he was hard at work.

"What're you working on?" she asked him, he was scribbling like mad and was looking a bit stressed.

"I can't write." he said to her, "I forgot how to write like words." he said and she remained calm as she went and sat next to him and took the journal that literally was full of nonsense and scribbles from his hands.

"Is my face still melty?" she asked and he looked confused for a moment but then shook his head. That was good, he was likely coming off the peak of the high, but the coke probably fucked him a bit.

"Everything else is a little swirly though," he said as he looked around.

"Well, that's why you can't write right now." she explained calmly, "But it'll go back to normal soon, OK?" she assured as she looked into his eyes, she saw his pupils were blown out enormously.

"OK. OK. OK." He said softly but shakily and she bit her lip, if she didn't calm him down he was about to spiral into a bad trip. The room was pretty muted down, but all the lights were on and he needed as least visual stimulation as possible so that he wouldn't work himself up or get sick. He seemed to know that deep down because he pulled his sunglasses down from the top of his head and over his eyes.

"Here, come with me." she said grabbing his hand as she stood. He followed her without hesitation and she took him outside. The night was cool and she was envious of him wrapped up in his hoodie and coat since she was just in a thin long-sleeved t-shirt and shorts. "S'this better? Not too bright?" she asked and he nodded, "Good." she smiled, "C'mon." she continued guiding him down a path to where they could stand at the fence and look right to the pacific ocean. She was sure that his heart was pounding and that visually the world might look like a mess a bit, so she needed to ensure he didn't tip over the edge. She grabbed his hand and placed it over her chest, holding it there.

"Hey, look at me." she said and he glanced down. She smiled as he still had the blasted sun glasses on and she reached up with her other hand to take them off of his face.

"Oh, that's better." He said and she giggled.

"Good. Match my breathing, OK." she said to him, "Look at the sky, look at the moon, whatever, but just focus on the feeling of my breathing." she said and he nodded. His eyes did start to wonder everywhere, she knew that the coke probably made him want to jump off a roof or run down to the beach. So she needed to let him get it out without running wild, she could see his chest start to slow down now, "Better?" she asked and he nodded.

"Can I hug you? You look soft." he said and she smiled and nodded. Having his strong arms wrapped around her brought her the warmth she was craving. It didn't feel weird when he inhaled deeply, taking in the scent of her perfume. She'd done it plenty of times in this state - the more he used his senses the more he'd be grounded. He then started swaying them, the inkling of the potentially bad trip had dissipated enough.

"Should we dance?" she asked and he nodded with a big smile. She pulled out her phone and decided that classical music was the way to go. It was complex and beautiful and dramatic enough to allow him to feel and express without the intensity of electric and modern music. Sometimes those sounds effects did weird things to your brain. "So you can pretend that we're at some fancy ball or something and I'm the new mysterious debutante in town." she said and he chuckled and with all of the formality in the world and an exaggeratedly posh British accent he asked her to dance and they did. They danced and swirled and twirled and laughed as they added on to the fictional scenario she had suggested for him. He was really chatty as the cocaine did its thing.

"Is our story anything like Bridgerton?" he asked with a cheeky grin.

"No, Harry." she laughed as he pouted.

"What? Not even a quickie against a tree?" he asked sounding quite offended.

"Out of everything you saw that was the most memorable one for you?" she giggled.

"Yeah. Exhibitionism is not even an option for someone like me, OK?" he stated and she hummed, that was true, "I would kill to be Anthony in that moment." he confessed and she grinned.

"I'm definitely an Eloise-type so no fucking against a tree for me." she expressed.

"Lame." he said before spinning her quickly. She slipped on the damp grass and lost her balance. In an attempt to stay up she hugged around him, but he came tumbling down as well and soon they were just on the grass laughing loudly at their mishap. Y/N was on top of him and holding herself up against his chest. The moon was directly behind her and the glow surrounding her made her look like one of those angelic figures, it made his heart pound as the light swirled around her beautifully. It was so bright.

"Let's sit you up, come on." she said and he criss-crossed on the cold grass.

"The moon's really bright." he hummed and she gave him back his sunglass which he slipped on immediately.

"Did you get these because of Kurt Cobain?" she asked with a smile, her hand softly caressing the part of his knee that was exposed from a tear in his pants, another little thing to keep him grounded. He was doing really well.

"Course." he answered easily and pulled out his phone, a slight pout on his face as he tried to enter his password. She started to giggle.

"Kinda look like Damian from Mean Girls." she pointed out and he grinned.

"Yeah?" she nodded, "I wanna see, take a picture."

"OK." she hummed and scooted back some, "I'm gonna use the flash, OK. So close your eyes or something."

"K." he responded and she brought her phone up.

"She doesn't even go here!" he shouted before sticking his tongue out and she burst into laughter as she snapped the picture. He loved the sound of her laughter, specially now. It was mixing in with the sound of the waves crashing on the shore not too far from them, "Look." she said handing him her phone and he grinned.

"Sick."

"Definitely." she agreed, "S'gonna be your contact photo, OK?"

"OK." he smiled. The effects of the coke would wear off in a half an hour or so. And he was a lot more coherent, so the effects of the shrooms had more than likely started to fizzle now. They sat in silence for a bit, "Thanks for taking care of me. Got a little too reckless." he hummed softly.

"Did you feel good and have fun though?" she asked and he nodded with a smile, "Good." she hummed before exhaling slowly.

***** 2 Weeks later *****

"Ummm H, a package or something came for you!" Tyler announced as he walked back into the studio with the UPS package that had been left against the perimeter fence.

Harry hurried out with a confused look on his face. He hadn't ordered anything and he wasn't expecting anything from anyone. He grabbed it from Tyler with a shrug.

"OK, thanks." he muttered before heading back to the room he was currently sharing with Mitch. He sat on the bed and tore open the box, it wasn't huge or heavy, so he was a bit confused as to what it could be. As he tipped over the opening to gently slide out the contents of the package his lips instantly curved into a smile. It was the embroidered Starry Night from Y/N's apartment. A little note slipped out towards the end and he grabbed it quickly.

Because you liked it so much. Enjoy! - Y/N

Harry was now smiling so much that his cheeks hurt. He'd been a mess and she'd made sure he was well taken care of that night and now this? Y/N was sweet and selfless and now he had to conjure up an excuse to see her again. He just had to.

[btxtreads]

Breaking Free

PROLOGUE: START OF SOMETHING NEW

↳ Pairing: Hueningkai x Reader

↳ word count: 2.2k words

↳ rating: PG

↳ genre: Floof

↳ Warnings: BTS Maknae line are jerks but they mean well they’re just idiots, Kai is drinking alcohol idk if u guys can handle that yet

“Kai, put down your phone and go talk to someone else other than the boys.” A scolding voice sounded out.

Kai flinched in surprise as he looked up, another red solo cup thrusted into his hands.

“Lea, I’m pretty sure drinking grape juice in a party is as lame as talking to my friends at a phone the whole time.” Kai said hesitantly.

“I’m still your older sister and I will not hand you alcohol willingly.” Lea rolled her eyes and propped a hand on her hip. “Still, we’ll be stuck in this resort for three more days—you’ve been refusing to talk to these kids after you played basketball with them once.”

“You don’t understand,” Kai whined before lowering his voice in a whisper. “They can’t even shoot a basket.”

Lea shakes her head.

“Kai,” she clicks her tongue. “For the love of god, please. Talk to other people.”

The boy only blinked as his older sister turned abruptly and left, swallowed by the crowd in seconds. Kai shook his head, placing the cup his sister handed him in one corner and running his hand through his freshly dyed blonde hair. His eyes fell on a girl at the side who was giving him heart-eyes, making him smile softly.

“Hello.”

“Jeon fucking Jungkook, set me free or I swear to god, I’m putting itch cream in your underwear drawer.”

Jungkook only cackled, hands flat on Y/N’s back as he pushed her forward. On either side of the teenage girl, the boy’s best friends Taehyung and Jimin held her arms and dragged her along with them.

“Guys, I don’t want to party.”

“You’re a teenager—what teenager doesn’t want to party?” Jimin snorted as they finally stopped walking smack-dab in the middle of the party.

“Here, drink this.” Taehyung said, patting her shoulder lightly.

“This is tequila.” Y/N deadpanned.

Taehyung shrugged as Jungkook raised his eyebrow, offering a cup he mysteriously had in his hand.

“Would you like something stronger?”

“Kook—“

“Come on, you’re an adult.”

“It’s weird that you’re my older brother yet you’re encouraging me to drink.” Y/N sighed, smelling the content of her cup—surprisingly sweet. “This smells weird.”

“It has orange juice.” Jimin shrugged.

“I wouldn’t let you drink if you weren’t so uptight.” Jungkook shrugged. “Come on, you’re a kid. Have fun!”

Y/N sighed, rolling her eyes and tipping the cup back. The drink was surprisingly pleasant-tasting, save for the burn at the back of her throat.

“Oh dear god,” Y/N coughed, hand thumping on her chest. “That burns.”

“Alcohol is called liquid courage for a reason—“ Jungkook said, eyes trailing up to the ceiling in thought. “Definitely don’t tell mom I’m letting you do this, but for legal purposes, you are under my supervision.”

“Oh, mom’s going to fucking murder your ass.”

“And just for that—“ Jungkook snorted hand clasping on her arm as a bright light shone on him. “You know what I’m gonna do?”

“Oh, what are you gonna do tough guy?”

“Karaoke night!” Jungkook screamed, making Taehyung and Jimin laugh out loud as the former shoved his own sister in front of him. “She’s singing Start of Something New!”

“What?!” Y/N whirled around. “No, I’m not!”

As she turned back to berate her brother for shoving her in the spotlight, all three of her idiots were missing. The next thing she knew, hands were pulling her up to the stage.

After trying (and failing) to flirt, Kai was sitting down in another chair—this time clutching a red solo cup with a coke and soju mix he remembered Yeonjun teaching him the last time they were in a party. His other hand held his phone in his hands again, having just pulled up his messages to send a text to the gc when he was almost blinded by a bright light.

“What?” He mumbled under his breath as he looked up to see a lot of faces peering down at him. “What did I do?”

“Karaoke night!” He heard a voice scream from nearby, followed by a girl screaming in protest.

“Wait, I don’t sing—“ Kai yelped as hands grasped onto him. “Wait—“

He felt himself shoved onto a small platform which acted as a makeshift stage.

“I don’t know how to sing.” Kai said, scratching his head.

A flailing girl was shoved onto the platform next to him. He can hear the girl mumble curses under her breath, her hands shaking in rage as she set down a cup of what looked like tequila in her hands. He watched the girl take the microphone in her hands, angrily speaking into it.

“Jeon Jungkook, Kim Taehyung, Park Jimin—You hope you all die very gruesome deaths within the next hour because you wouldn’t like it when I get my hands on your fucking asses.” She hissed, sighing as loud rambunctious laughter came back to her from somewhere in the room.

Kai smiled awkwardly as he gaze fell onto him, making her stumble back slightly. It was then that her face heated up, realizing that she was in front of an audience at the moment.

“Karaoke Night.” Kai mumbled, eyes falling over to the crowd and wincing once he saw Lea holding up her phone.

“I-I don’t sing.” The girl said weakly as another kid who was acting as the party host of the night arrived with another microphone, plopping it down into Kai’s hands.

“You guys will thank me for this one day, you know.” The boy snickered before sauntering off of the stage.

“I-I don’t think I will.” The girl spoke softly as she looked after the boy.

There was a brief silence between Kai and the girl as they waited for the music to begin, a familiar tune sounding out after a few seconds. Kai hesitated slightly, stepping back for a moment before releasing a heavy sigh and lifting the microphone to his lips.

Living in my own world,

Didn’t understand

That anything can happen

When you take a chance

Kai’s face reddened when the girl lowered her head as he sang, her hair covering her face. Slightly embarrassed, especially when she saw Lea’s phone blink—signalling that she was recording—he sighed again, scratching the back of his neck as he moved to leave the stage. Before he could, he heard another voice filter through the speakers.

I never believed in

What I couldn’t see

Kai turned back to the girl, whose eyes are trained on the lyrics projected in a nearby screen—hands tightly clutching the microphone. Kai swore he could see three blinking phones from somewhere by the bar. Ignoring this, the boy stepped back to his spot next to the girl.

I never opened my heart,

to other possibilities.

The girl turned over to him with an unsure smile, making him smile kindly in encouragement. Their voices harmonized together in a beautiful melody as he lifted his own microphone to sing along.

I know that something has changed,

never felt this way.

Kai watched as the girl took an unsure glance off to the side—where the three recording phones were—before looking back at him with a bright, more confident smile.

And right here tonight,

This could be the start of something new.

It feels so right to be here with you, oh.

Kai could feel more people turning over to look at the two of them on stage. The song was getting more upbeat.

And now, looking in your eyes.

I feel in my heart, the start of something new.

Kai, perhaps feeling the effects of the alcohol he took a few minutes ago, felt heat wash over him. Feeling more confident than before, he pulled off his jacket and placed it on the floor as he took the girl’s hands in his. He grinned at the cheers from the crowd, and the light snort coming from the girl.

I never knew that it could happen till it happened to me.

The girl giggled as he spinned her around. She placed her hand on his shoulder as she stopped, grip still tight on the microphone as she sang.

I didn’t know it before, but now it’s easy to see.

At the high note, there were cheers erupting from the crowd. He can see his sister sway along with the crowd and the three men by the bar scream at the top of their lungs.

It’s the start of something new,

It feels so right to be here with you, oh.

The girl pulled away from him with a giddy smile.

And now looking in your eyes,

I feel in my heart.

The start of something new.

The start of something new.

He can hear the host coming up behind him as the song faded away.

The start of something new.

The two teens smiled at each other as claps erupted from the crowd.

This time, Kai found himself lounging in a standing table with the girl he sang with right outside the venue. He was having a genuinely good time as he talked to the girl about the experience.

“That was honestly the first time I’ve ever done that.” He laughed, making the girl laugh.

“Same!” She giggled. “Honestly, I wasn’t even picked. My brother was, he just shoved me over instead.”

“Imagine if I sang with him instead,” Kai wondered to himself making the girl laugh.

The girl laughed as the host arrived to his table, setting down two cups.

“You guys did great earlier for two people who supposedly couldn’t sing,” The host joked, patting them on the back. “Good job.”

Kai and the girl exchanged glances before laughing as the host left them. She shook her head and offered her hand out.

“My name’s Y/N.”

“Kai.”

“Nice to meet you,” Y/N grinned, taking a sip of her drink.

“You too, Y/N who doesn’t sing.” Kai snorts as he picked up his cup.

“No, I swear to god I don’t.” Y/N laughed. “That’s more of my brother’s alley—music and shit.”

“And what would be yours?”

“Math? Science?” Y/N chuckles. “Anything in a book.”

“Sounds fascinating.” Kai nodded. “Mine’s basketball.”

“Wait, wait—“ The girl almost choked, laughing. “You’re basketball dude?”

Kai blinked in confusion as the girl, almost lost in the sound of her laughter.

“You were the guy playing basketball with my brother and his friends the other day!” Y/N laughed, making Kai’s eyes widen.

“Your brother is the one who didn’t know what a point guard was!”

“Are you kidding me? Of course he knew what the was, the three of them were in the freaking basketball varsity team.” Y/N laughed out loud. “They were making fun of you, dude.”

“Oh my god.” Kai mumbled under his breath, laughing at himself.

“They do that a lot.” Y/N shook her head as she leaned back. “But they were right, you know. You do seem like a fun guy.”

“They deduced that from making me teach three varsity players how to shoot ball?”

“Yep,” Y/N giggled, making Kai smile widely.

The boy bit his lip to suppress how big his smile had gotten. He wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but that was the most fun he’s had ever since he was promoted captain of the basketball team.

“Hey, can I get your number?”

“I don’t know yet,” The girl shrugged, quirking her lips to a small smile. “I still haven’t figured out whether you’re a bonehead jock or not.”

5!

“Would a bonehead jock go up to the stage and sing a love song with you?” Kai raised his eyebrow.

4!

“Touche.” Y/N giggled, holding out her hand. “Give me your phone, then.”

Kai smiled, handing her his phone and taking hers in his hands.

3!

“You know,” Kai said with a smile as he took a photo of himself for the contact. “I really enjoyed today with you.”

“Did you?”

2!

“I did.” Kai hummed, giving back her phone and taking his.

1!

Happy New Year!

He smiled at the photo of herself that she took on his phone. Y/N turned, eyebrows raising as she saw Jungkook, Taehyung and Jimin at the side beckoning her over—Jungkook pointing over to his phone, showing their mother’s caller ID. She turned to say farewell to Kai, but he was too busy marvelling over his phone.

Taking one glance at the sky, covered in colorful fireworks, she shot one last smile Kai’s way before turning around and walking over to her brother and his friends.

“Is it okay if I text you tonight?” Kai asked after a few seconds, gaining his courage to face the girl—only to find no one. “Wh—Y/N?”

He sighed, rolling his eyes with a smile as Lea ran up towards him and slinging an arm around his torso.

“There’s my baby!” Lea greeted. “Who knew I’d see you actually be half-decent at something out of the basketball court? Why didn’t you tell me you could sing?”

Kai blinked over at the girl before looking down at his phone, smiling softly at the photo of Y/N.

“I really didn’t know.”

That night was the start of something new.

[xwing-baby]

Impulse: Part 1 (Javier Pena x Reader)

Summary: Top of your class, the DEA have sent you to Colombia to be the poster child for their new ‘placement program’. You’re thrown in at the deep end into the drug war. With Agent Pena as your mentor, what could possibly go wrong?

Warnings: ANGST! Explicit drug and alcohol abuse from the beginning, depressive thinking/intrusive thoughts, swearing

Word Count: 4.8k

A/n: My first ever Javi fic, of course I had to make it the angstiest thing I’ve written in a long time!!  This is part one of the first part of the story which is also the end of the story... just had to make it confusing for you. 

Disclaimer: I do not have any experience with cocaine or addiction, all writing is based on my own research and is not a good representation of how it really is! Don’t do coke kids, it’s never good.

Part 2

---

Four in the morning, the sun was just above the horizon and you were stumbling home from yet another party. Enough tequila swam through your system that you didn’t really think about the wellbeing of your neighbor when you tapped on his door. You wanted to keep going. Javier, you decided, would make the perfect company. And maybe you could continue that kiss you had not stopped thinking about since it happened four months ago! You grinned devilishly at the thought and knocked harder on the door.

“Javi! Javier!” You rapped on the door. “Javier Peña, abra la puerta!” You sang, leaning all your weight on the door as your world span fast around you, “Javi,”

“What?” Javier opened the door suddenly, causing you to fall into him. You laughed as you caught yourself on his arm. You had woken him up, he was dressed in a wrinkled t-shirt and sweatpants with his hair bushy and wild. 

“Hola!” You grinned up at him, not hiding the way you checked him out. You were obviously drunk and high, eyes red and shining brightly even in the dim light of the apartment block hallway. Javi wrinkled his nose as the smell of you hitting him, tequila and cigar smoke clung to you.

“Again?” Javi sighed heavily. This was the third time this week you had woken him up, accidentally or on purpose, coming home drunk. He was starting to worry about you. 

“Si,” You grinned from ear to ear, You were in more of a state than last time. For one you were still speaking Spanish, something Javi had rarely ever heard you speak. You must have been with your local friends, he surmised. “No lo siento Javi. ¡Es divertido!”

“It’s not fun, you’re a mess. Get in here,” He pulled you by the arm into his apartment, shutting the door behind him.

“Eres enojado?” You asked, still grinning. You walked backwards into his apartment, tripping down the step and landing with a thud on his leather couch. You cackled with laughter.Javier frowned and put his hands on his hips, of course he was annoyed at you! It was four in the morning and you both had work the next morning. You dramatically flopped back on his couch and huffed at his grumpy attitude, “It’s only polite, Javi! They gave it to me!”

“It’s poison!! He exclaimed, “Why would you do that to yourself?” 

“It’s helping,” You proclaimed. 

“It’s not helping anyone, you’re gunna fuck up sooner or later.” Javi warned, as he had done many times before. 

“I got that list,” You protested, “That was helpful!”

“And what will you do when they work out that you stole it?” 

“No lo sé,” You shrugged. You reached into your pocket and grabbed the last of the coke you had been given. You wanted a little more. You pulled the tin out of your pocket and placed it on the coffee table at your feet.

“You-,” Javi started before he noticed what you were doing, instantly he was on you, “Para!” He exclaimed as he snatched the coke from your hand before you had time to open it. 

“Necesito!” You whined, pouting at him. You were lying, you didn’t need it. You wanted it, a lot. 

“No,” Javi snapped.

“Lo siento, Javi,” You pleaded with him, eyes locked onto the packet in his hand.

“You’re not though, are you? Fucking look at me!” He yelled. You startled and looked up at him as tears pricked your eyes. “Quit it. Now. You know what this shit does, stop it. Whatever you think you’re doing is not worth it, okay?”

“Pero-“

“No. Me vale!” He cut you off. “You’re better than this, Y/n,”

You sustained eye contact for a moment. The room was deathly quiet, he glared at you with fierce intensity. You had never seen him so angry, if you weren’t so drunk you would have instantly buckled under the pressure. The only thing your drunk brain could think of was how hot he looked, you wondered how rough he would be with you if he was this angry. You couldn’t help the snigger that crept up in your throat at that thought. You clamped your hand over your mouth to stop the laugh, Javi rolled his eyes and shook his head in disbelief.

“I’m sorry I’m sorry!” You laughed, “It’s just you can’t look at me like that and not fuck me!” 

“Jesus christ,” Javier pinched the bridge of his nose. What little patience he had for you was running out fast. You continued to laugh. 

“Can I stay here?” You asked.

“Take the couch,” Javi waved you off, his back turned heading back to his bedroom. 

“I can’t sleep with you?” Your voice was laced with innuendo, he knew what you wanted. A part of him was tempted, your dress left very little to the imagination, but he knew he couldn’t do it.

“You’re drunk and high,” Javier said plainly, “and we’ve spoken about this before. No,” He was firm with you. He hated having to reject you for a second time but he wasn’t a complete monster. He wouldn’t sleep with you in this state. 

“Worth a try,” You laughed, thankfully giving up quickly. Javi shook his head and walked away again, “Muchos gracias, Javi,” You called after him. He shut the door. 

--

You woke up as the early morning sunlight pushed through the windows. You groaned and turned over, finding you were not in your bed but on a couch. Startled, you sat up and nearly screamed when you recognised the apartment as Javier’s. Luckily you were still fully dressed with your shoes still on, nothing had happened. Memories of how you got there were blurry, you remembered knocking on his door but had blacked out after that.

The clock on the wall said it was six am. You could go upstairs to your own bed clean up and hope that maybe Javi wouldn’t hear you and confront you about it. 

You stood up from the couch, trying not to think about all the things the man had done on it, and grabbed your jacket from the ground. As you stood up the strength of your hangover kicked in, you grumbled. That was when you noticed the discarded coke packet on the counter. You stopped. You knew you shouldn’t pick it up, you didn’t need it. But the taste caught at the back of your throat and you found yourself wanting it. It was undeniably addictive, you had promised yourself you wouldn’t take it this far but the foul substance had made its bed.

“Go home,” Javi’s voice broke you out of the trance. He was only wearing sweatpants, hair mussed up from sleep that you had most definitely disturbed more than once. He pulled the cocaine off the table and threw it into the trash before you could reach it. You gulped, shame rising like hot steam through your lungs. You grabbed your things and left, running straight upstairs to your own apartment.

It was still early but you knew you weren’t going to be able to sleep again. Shame was swirling up in your throat. How ironic that a DEA agent was addicted to the thing she was meant to be stopping? But you weren’t addicted, you reasoned with yourself, you were fine. This was no different to when you lived off Redbull for a month during finals, it was a matter of changing some coping mechanisms. It was a reaction to the stress of being so close to Escobar yet so still so far. You could change it, you had control. 

You made a coffee, instant and black. It was bitter and disgusting but it would keep you awake. You collapsed onto your tired old couch and flicked on the tv to a telenovela rerun. You barely understood what was going on but the hilarious overplayed drama was light enough to stop you swimming into the depressing pool of thoughts currently threatening to drown you. 

Eight o’clock came and you were ready to go to work. You were used to this routine now, hungover and tired, you knew you weren’t at your best but until this morning nobody knew about your slow descent into chaos. You weren’t surprised to find Javi’s truck gone without you. All you could remember from last night as how mad he was, and his face this morning only proved it. You dreaded seeing him. 

Luckily, you were spared the hassle of public transport by Steve who trundled down the stairs after you and offered you a ride. The conversation was light and everything seemed normal for a moment. You got to work, Steve ran off after a call from Javier leaving you with a mountain of paperwork to hunt through. For once you didn’t care, paperwork didn’t judge you.

A few hours passed and the boys returned. You did your best to ignore them while they bickered, hoping that you could melt into the background, until someone tapped on your desk. 

“Hey, I’m talking to you Rookie,” Javi’s voice made you look up. “Come on, we’re going,” 

Before you could say anything he threw your jacket at you and you had no choice but to follow him outside. You tried to rack your brain for why Javi would be taking you anywhere today, especially after this morning. You had expected him to ground you, to be impossibly angry at you, not take you out. You climbed into the passenger seat of the truck and Javi didn’t say a word. He didn’t look particularly angry, he looked stressed but he had looked like that since the day you got down here. He was silent, letting the radio play between you, when all of a sudden he reached over and turned it off. 

You looked over at him, expecting him to start his lecture but he didn’t. He let the silence sit between you for the rest of the journey. Somehow it was worse, you’d rather he got mad at you and shouted. It was just unsettling.

Finally you pulled into the embassy, you flashed your badges at the gate and parked. Fear was starting to grow now. Was he going to get you fired? He wouldn’t bring you down here for that surely? He would have called and said what he wanted, he hated coming down here unless he had to. You stayed quiet, too scared to ask, and followed him inside. 

Javi greeted the assistant at the door, as smooth as ever somehow managing to melt her in her chair in five seconds. You smiled and waved to her, she scowled at you as soon as Javi had turned his back. 

“He’ll be in a minute,” The girl called after you as you entered the Ambassador’s office. You took one chair, Javier took the other, in front of the large mahogany desk.

Unlike Steve and Javi you didn’t see the ambassador often, often left in the office while they had meetings about things higher than your post. Your heart was beating so hard in your chest you thought it might burst. You rubbed your hands on your jeans and fidgeted in your seat. Why in hell were you here? 

Before you could bring up the courage to finally ask Javi the Ambassador walking into the room. You stood up immediately to shake his hand, Javi stayed seated.

“Y/n, nice to see you again,” The ambassador smiled kindly as he shook your hand. “Agent Peña,” He greeted the agent next to you, who nodded casually.

“You too, Sir,” You tried your best to sound confident. The Ambassador sighed heavily as he sat in the leather chair, took a sip of the water at his side and began the meeting.

“So, I got the call from your coordinators this morning, they’re coming down on Monday for the review. I thought we should have this meeting together to discuss things before they come down,” 

Your six month review! That was what you had forgotten. Half relieved that your mentor hadn’t brought you down here to completely humiliate you, you smiled and nodded. With everything going on you hadn’t noticed the months fly past so fast, you barely remembered what day it was anymore. 

The Ambassador carried on with the meeting, unaware of your panicking. You nodded along, answering his questions in short yes or no answers, he then moved to Javier. As your mentor he was the one in charge of delivering your progress onto your coordinators. You watched him speak, sound not registering anymore. You hoped to god that he wouldn’t throw you under the bus and tell the entire truth, he knew how much this meant to you surely he wouldn’t. 

Nervous, you stuffed your hands into the pockets of your jacket. You almost had a heart attack when you felt something inside. A small metal tin, rounded and rusted. You immediately knew what it was and froze. There was coke in your pocket. Javi gave you a sideways glance, as he noticed you stiffen up suddenly. 

You wracked your mind for where the hell the tin had come from, until you remembered. This wasn’t your jacket, Maria had given it to you a few months ago and never asked for it back. You hadn’t worn it before today and had no idea that your friend’s stash lay inside the pockets. You tried to stay rational, tried to listen to the important conversation happening around you but your hand stayed clamped around the drug in your pocket. It would help you concentrate, it could calm you down. You could take it and nobody would notice. 

“I- I’m sorry can you excuse me for a moment?” You blurted out, interrupting the ambassador.  He frowned at you, surprised by your interruption. You had gone white with panic, obviously clutching at something in your pocket but he didn’t think anything of it. He nodded and you ran out the room before he could verbally release you. 

You tried to remain calm as you ran through the halls of the embassy, it seemed like everyone was watching you. They knew exactly what you were doing, they were judging you. You ran into the first women’s bathroom you could find, quickly checked nobody was in any stalls, and locked the door behind you.

Throwing the package on the sink like it was burning through your hand, you stood over it, watching it intensely like it could jump away at any moment. The voice in your head kept tempting you, calling you weak and useless, to do it to get rid of it. Nobody would know if you took it. You’ve given in this far why not do it. It will help you calm down. Take it. 

As if you were possessed, you unwillingly opened the tin and poured the powder onto the surface. There wasn’t much there, barely a pinch full, hardly anything at all. You couldn’t just leave it there now, someone would definitely know it was yours. They all knew why even bother hiding it anyway. You should take it. You were too weak to resist it. Take it.

And you did. The chemical shot straight to your brain giving you the brilliant feeling you had been missing. You sighed in a relief as you felt every anxiety fade from your body. It wasn’t that bad, you feel better with it, the voice in your head said. You weren’t wrong. You did feel better. You looked it too, your cheeks had colour again, you smiled and laughed to yourself as it took hold.

You brushed away the excess powder and unlocked the door. You nearly jumped out of your skin when you saw Javi leaning against the opposite wall. His arms were crossed over his chest, judging you with a cocked eyebrow. He had been waiting for you. You sighed and rolled your eyes immediately walking away from him.

“Don’t stand outside the women's bathroom’s Javi. It's creepy,” You snapped as you passed him. 

“You missed a bit,” Javi commented, following closely behind you. 

“Fuck off,” You grumbled. Despite yourself you wiped your sleeve over your nose. He was right. 

“Shooting up in a bathroom is real low, Rookie, even for you,” He snarled. You continued walking down the hall, ignoring him. You were as angry at your actions as he was but you didn’t have control anymore. You couldn’t stop yourself, “Hey! I’m fucking talking to you,” Javi grabbed your arm and sharply pulled you backwards, pressing your back into the wall and trapping your body between his.

“You’re hurting me!” You complained, shoving him off you with as much force as you could give. It didn’t get you far as he pushed you to the wall again with as much force. Your back slammed against the cold stone hard, no doubt bruising it. 

“Then listen. What the fuck is the matter with you?” He snarled, “Doing that shit here? Or anywhere in fact! You are completely out of control,” You ground your teeth, seething with anger, “Do you have no respect for yourself?” You struggled against him, trying to get away again to avoid the question, Javi held you in place. “Not going to say anything?” You looked away, purposely turning your cheek to him, “Get a fucking grip or I’m sending you home,” He growled. 

You didn’t answer, staring at the patterned tile floor. Finally he gave up. With a grunt he let you go and stalked away down the corridor. 

As he disappeared around the corner, a tidal wave of anger and frustration flooded your system. You kicked the line of chairs next to you, crying out curses as you sent them flying across the corridor. The metal clattered against the stone drawing people out of their offices, they all stood from their doorways and watched you, judging you. You heart hammered in your chest, chest heaving for air and you glared back at them all. You let out a deep breath and turned on your heel, leaving the mess behind you, and walked outside.

Despite himself, Javi had waited for you in the parking lot. You jumped into the passenger seat without a word, slamming the door hard to get your point across. You couldn’t tell if you were sweating from anger or the drugs coursing through you. Neither of you said a word for the journey. Javi had said he needed to, and you weren’t able to string together a coherent sentence for everything you wanted to scream at him yet. 

You were too focussed on the music playing from the stereo to really notice where you were going. The rhythms and lyrics seemed to float around you and soak into your skin. You didn’t see Javi’s furious scowl when you unknowingly started to dance in your seat, something you couldn’t help but do when listening to Columbian radio no matter your mental state. You were having a good time until the car stopped and the music was cut abruptly. Snapping out of your trance you looked around and realised you were at your apartment. 

“Get out. You’re done for today,” Javi said, his voice was eerily calm and you knew to be terrified. Quiet Javi was always the angriest.

“What?” You asked dumbly. 

“Get out!” He leant over you and pushed the door open. You frowned, but slipped out the truck and did as you were told. Javi pulled the door shut behind you and rolled away, leaving you standing on the sidewalk opposite the apartment building completely dumbfounded. 

You were stuck to the sidewalk, staring at the building. The sun beat down on you, scorching your skin yet you couldn’t feel it. You were numb to everything.

Your first thought was to find Maria and get more coke to hide further into yourself and avoid the awful shame creeping up your neck. The speed the thought entered your head petrified you. Your control was slipping through your fingers like sand and your body was screaming to move. Everything inside you told you to give up, that this was the tipping point and you might as well jump because what was the point in pretending anymore. If Javi knew what was the point in trying to cover up how much that narcotic had taken over your life. There was no point at all, you might as well enjoy the feeling whilst you could. 

You turned to leave, letting go of all self control. Your legs knew where to take you, you didn’t even need to look where you were going. But you did, when three steps from your original position you crashed into a woman carrying a bag of groceries. She yelped, the sudden sound snapping you back to reality. 

“What are you doing standing out here? Shouldn’t you be at work?” Connie startled you when she touched you, you had barely noticed her approaching. She frowned, concerned, when she took in your glazed appearance, “Sweetheart?”

“I’m okay,” Your voice cracked as tears filled your eyes. 

“Oh darling, come inside. Come on,” Connie walked across the road, expecting you to follow but you didn’t. You couldn’t bring yourself to move, you wanted to run in the opposite direction. You knew if you went inside you would have to tell her what was happening, you didn’t want to make her as mad as Javi was already. “Y/n? Sweetheart you’re scaring me, what’s wrong?” 

“I fucked it all up,” You whimpered as you began to cry.

“Come with me, I’ll get you some water,” Connie bartered, still you didn’t move. Too scared to admit to her what was going on, “Just come inside, please,” 

Finally, you nodded and followed Connie into the building. She walked you into the apartment, sat you on the couch and left to get a glass of water. You hadn’t stopped crying, everything in you was telling you to go and get more to calm yourself down again. You knew not to believe the thoughts but they scared you tremendously. You have really gone too far now. 

Connie passed you the water, and you drank it gladly. She crouched down in front of you, pressed a hand to your forehead and checked your pulse trying to work out what was wrong with you. 

“Did you take something?” She asked. You tried to shake your head and deny it but the way she’s looking at you, sternly but with so much care in her eyes, you couldn’t lie to her. Your no turns into a yes and you instantly recoil from her each touch, hiding in your hands. “What was it?” 

“It was only meant to help,” You cried into your hands.

“I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what happened,” She pressed. 

“Maria gave me some coke, and it was fine and fun and it helped me get that list from them,” You started to babble, all your words tumbling from your mouth before you could get them into any sensible order, “and everyone was so excited and then I went out kept doing it and then yesterday I ended up at Javi’s and I was tired and-,” 

“Slow down,” 

“It’s my six month review,  and I got so worried then I found it in my pocket! I didn’t know it was there and I just did it! Then Javi caught me again and he kicked me out here!” 

“Do you know how much you took?” 

“Like a tiny bit but I’ll be fine in an hour but-,” Tears slipped from your eyes once again, “What am I going to do?”

Connie didn’t know what to say. She knew you had been going out more with some new friends, Steve had complained because he was always woken up by you when you came back drunk from a party. That's all she thought was going on, you were partying, drinking, like you should at your age. But as she had come to learn, a lot of things in Columbia were not what they seemed. It seemed the darker side of life here had managed to get it’s claws well and truly into you. It broke her heart to see you like this, so broken up. 

You stayed with Connie for the rest of the afternoon, sat on the couch riding out the end of you high. TV kept you company and Connie chewed her nails trying to work out what to do. She thought should call Steve, but if Javier was the one to drop you off here, he probably already knew. She wondered how long it had been going on for, she didn’t get to see you as much as her husband and his partner, whenever she’d seen you you seemed fine, if a little hungover at times. When she thought about, all three of you had taken on destructive habits to cope with the hell you saw every day. Steve was becoming more aggressive by the week, while she knew she was safe she didn’t like what she saw when he flipped out. Everyone in the building knew about Javier’s escapades and now you. It was upsetting to watch from the outside, she couldn’t imagine what it was really like to go through. 

You woke up half an hour later, muddled and more tired than when you’d fallen asleep. 

“Feeling better?” Connie asked with a sympathetic smile.

“Feel like shit,” You muttered. Your head pounded and the heaviness still sat in your chest. That was the kicker, the coke could mask feelings very well but every time you sobered up they were still there waiting. You sighed heavily, pushing yourself to sit up where you’d slumped over, and rubbed your face with your sweaty palms. “What am I going to do?”

“I don’t know sweetie, but I’ll be here to help you,” Connie said kindly, as she sat on the couch next to you. You felt awful for dragging her into all this, yet another person you had let down, ”I think you should tell your boss? Or you’re coordinators, maybe they’ll help,” 

“I’ll be sent home!” You protested, tears filling your eyes once again, “I don’t want to go home, not now!” 

“You can’t keep it to yourself, it will only get worse,” She said, you nodded sadly and cried on her shoulder as she pulled you in for a hug. “I suggest a hot bath, watch some cheesy movie- I managed to find that Indiana Jones movie on tape. I know you love Harrison Ford,” 

“That sounds nice,” You smiled weakly. Connie let you go and grabbed the movie along with a bottle of wine for you. You gathered yourself together, enough to get yourself from Connie’s couch to your own at least. 

“I’m sure Steve won’t notice it’s gone. Go and chill out and watch the movie, have a bit of normality for a change. You’ll feel better I promise,” 

“Thank you Connie, you’re a really good friend,” 

“It’s no problem sweetie, like I said I’m always here for you,” 

Connie gave you another tight squeeze before you left. Iin the hallway you heard the clatter of Javi’s keys in his door below. You wanted to apologise to him, you wanted him to help you! You wanted things to go back to how they were before all this but you knew Javi wouldn’t talk to you. He’d displayed his distaste for the people that fell under the powder’s spell before, he wasn’t going to help. He had trusted you to sort it out yourself but now it was abundantly clear you couldn’t. 

Once again your brain reminded you how easy it would be to get some more coke to cheer yourself up. You could go downstairs and walk down the street, find one of your friends and be happy again so quickly. You didn’t have to feel this pain. 

This time, you ignored it and locked yourself in your apartment. You took yourself to bed immediately, not even bothering to turn on any lights along the journey through the tiny space. You fell on the bed face first. As soon as your body hit the soft material you curled up as tight as you could and began to cry. 

You had failed. You had let your team down, let your coordinators down, let your classmates down and let your family down. You didn’t even want to think about the conversation you would have to have with your mom as to why you were coming home six months early from a placement you fought so hard to get. You thought you could handle it, but you couldn’t. You failed.

--

Part 2

Translations (disclaimer I'm sorry if these are wrong I've been learning Spanish for all of 3 months hence the limited use)

Abra la puerta - open the door

No lo siento Javi. ¡Es divertido! - I’m not sorry Javi, it’s fun!

Eres enojado - are you angry?

No lo sé - I don’t know

Para!- stop!

Lo siento- I’m sorry

Pero- but

Me vale - I don’t care

The next part will be out next Friday! Want to get tagged? Let me know! 

Tag list: @beskar-tano @buckysbeloved @beskarbabs @all-hallows-evie @harrys-stan @browneyes-djarin @themidnightsun-12​

gunna be cheeky and tag some mutuals i think may be interested? @ithinkwehitametaphor​ @wille-zarr​ 

[pillage-and-lute]

Hey I have a holiday prompt for you! What if it’s the pairing’s first holiday together and they stress about figuring out what to get each other? Any pairing you feel like! PS Reading your stuff never fails to put a smile on face!💜💜💜

Hi Blondey!

cute shit ahead. Modern AU

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“Yen,” I swear,” Geralt panted into the phone. “It’s an emergency. Please, I need your help.”

“No.”

“Yen please I’m actually begging.”

“You should have thought to beg before Christmas Eve.”

“I’m meeting him tonight, Yennefer, I’m on Wilson Street, with all the shops and I’m so lost, please.”

“No.”

“I’ll set you up with Jaskier’s hot friend. The one from the coffee shop. She’s single.”

“...I’m on my way.”

-- -- -- Across Town, Triss and Jaskier’s Apartment -- -- -- 

“I just thought I’d have more time to get him a gift,” Jaskier wailed, draped dramatically over Triss’ beat up armchair. “And then it was thanksgiving, then finals and it’s Christmas eve and I don’t have a gift.”

“Well,” Triss said, sipping her cocoa and barely looking up from her book. “It’s not noon yet, shops aren’t all closed. What kind of gift does your relationship need?”

“What?” Jaskier looked up from his flop of despair, confused. 

“I mean, if you’d been dating for a month it would be slippers or some scotch or something.”

“We’ve been dating eight months though!” Jaskier wailed. “I love him, Trissy, desperately. I see his face and everything goes all pink and mushy.”

“You should get that checked out.”

“No, I mean,” Jaskier sat up and looked at her. “I think he could be the one. He might be it for me.”

Triss looked up from her book. She’d known Jaskier since university, and his heart had always been so mobile, but there was something shining in his eyes. She shrugged mentally. Put it down to a Christmas miracle, but Jaskier was really in love.

“What does he like?”

Jaskier huffed. “He likes being grumpy.”

“And?”

“Me.” He paused for thought. “His horse, Roach, he loves riding. He loves his goddaughter, and mythology.”

“Lord of the Rings nerd?”

“Oh you have no idea, he’s basically Aragorn if Aragorn had albinism.”

“I know a place,” Triss said, getting up. “Put on your coat.”

“Will it be open?” Jaskier asked anxiously, pulling his boots on.

“They live above the shop,” Triss said, throwing his scarf at him. “I know the owners, I’ll just shoot them a text.”

-- -- -- Back on the other side of town -- -- --

“Okay,” Yennefer said. “And you’re sure the hot barista is single?”

“Triss,” Geralt said. “And yes, apparently she’s been crying about it to Jaskier for ages.”

“Right, let’s go looking,” Yennefer said, looking remarkably cheerful.

The rows of shops were mostly open for last minute shoppers and Geralt and Yennefer fought through them. 

Well, Geralt fought. Yennefer just glared and people moved out of her way. 

“Does he cook?” Yennefer asked, pointing at a cookware store.

“Ramen and box mac n cheese,” Geralt said.

“You said he likes clothes?” A very full store with what could only be called hipster clothing.

“He has lots of clothes I want something...special,” Geralt said. He was trying not to lose hope.

“You really like this one.”

“I do, you met him he’s just...bright,” Geralt said, mumbling a little into his scarf as the wind blew a flurry at him.

“Hey, look at the music shop on the corner,” Yenn said. “I’m down here all the time, I’ve never noticed it before.”

Neither had Geralt. “Is it new?” It didn’t look new. It looked nearly condemned.

“You said he loves music,” Yennefer said, stomping in the direction of the store.

“I dunno, that store looks...”

“He loves music,” she said. “And you love him.”

They entered the store.

-- -- -- Triss and Jaskier -- -- --

“How the hell did you find this place?”

“I told you,” Triss said, matter of factly. “I know the owners. They’ll be down any minute to open it up.”

“They’re opening it up just for us?” Jaskier asked guiltily. It was Christmas eve after all.

“They owe me,” Triss said. “I introduced them. Well...reintroduced.”

“Welcome to The Sword in the Stone, Gifts and Novelties,” grinned a young man with very blue eyes and slightly large ears, opening the door. Behind him a blonde young man grinned cheerfully too, he was wearing a santa hat.

“Hi,” Jaskier said, stepping gratefully inside. “It’s a pleasure, I’m Jaskier.”

“Merlin,” said the young man who’d opened the door. 

“Arthur,” the blonde waved.

“Seriously?”

The pair just shrugged. Well, Jaskier, called Buttercup/Dandelion/Julian/a lot of other things, wasn’t about to tell people what to call themselves.

“I hear you need a gift for that special someone,” the blonde -Arthur- said, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Yeah, he loves fantasy stuff and I just... I don’t know what to get him.”

“Gotcha,” Arthur began to lead him back into the shop. Merlin and Triss were chatting by the door. 

“Were you thinking bigger, got a lovely cardboard cutout of Viggo Mortensen?”

Jaskier pictured Aragorn watching them have sex from the corner of Geralt’s little studio apartment. “Maybe smaller but kind of...niche?”

“Lucky you, this place if full of niche,” Arthur said cheerfully. 

Jaskier looked at the wall full of swords and was that a battle axe? “Yeah...”

“Does he wear jewelry?” asked Arthur, jingling a box full of metal in Jaskier’s direction.

“Not really,” Jaskier said. Then something caught his eye. “Wait...” he pulled something out of the box and held it up to the light.

Somehow...it was perfect.

“How much.”

-- -- -- Yen and Geralt -- -- --

“This place looks closed,” Geralt whispered to Yennefer, looking around at the racks of instruments.

“Not closed dearie, just dusty,” came a cheerful voice from right behind Geralt. He and Yennefer jumped.

“Sorry honeys,” said a little old lady with coke bottle glasses. “Got my slippers on, makes me quiet. She shuffled one foot, clad in pink fluff, off the floor as exhibit A. “Gift from my great grandson, aren’t they darling? Now,” she looked at Geralt with laser intensity. “You’d be needing a gift.”

“Um, yes ma’am,” Geralt said. How had she known?

“Ooohoo you need a gift,” said the tiny old woman, “Cause you’s a boy in love.” She nearly cackled. “Follow me honeys!”

Geralt and Yennefer looked at each other, shrugged, and followed. What choice did they have?

“Got a harp,” the shopkeeper called cheerfully. It was indeed a full, standing, concert harp. It had a figurehead on it but the face looked absolutely agonized.

“Maybe not,” Geralt said.

“Hmmm no,” said the lady, shuffling her fluffy slippers. “Bagpipes?”

“He lives in an apartment.”

“That’ll be a no, then,” said the woman, peering at a rack of instruments in the corner. “Aha!” she shrieked, startling Geralt and Yennefer both. 

“This!”

It was perfect.

“I can’t afford it,” Geralt said, feeling hopeless.

“Oh yes you can,” said the little old lady gleefully, if she could Geralt got the sense she would be jumping and clicking her heels. “Nobody wants ‘em these days, this one’s seventy-five percent off!”

Geralt left with a weird shaped package.

-- -- -- Geralt’s studio apartment, evening -- -- --

“Hey,” Jaskier, said, stomping his boots on the mat.

“Hi,” Geralt replied, stealing a kiss. “What’d you tell Triss?”

“Told her I was sending a gift, what’s you tell Yennefer?”

“She’s heading over there now,” Geralt said. “With that movie they both like.”

“Ocean’s 8?”

“That’s the one, and a plate of homemade Christmas cookies.”

Jaskier smiled at Geralt and stole another kiss. “We’re never going to have a moment of peace, now we set them up,” he said. Geralt grinned at him. “Never, but I think we did the right thing.”

They settled in on Geralt’s little loveseat. Jaskier set a wrapped present on the side table. Beside it, on the floor, was a very poorly wrapped mess. Lots of scotch tape was visible. It was quite large.

Jaskier felt panicky.

“Should we,” Geralt said awkwardly. “Do you want to exchange presents now?”

“Sure.” Oh god, Geralt’s gift was so small, and what if he hated it?

“You first?” Geralt said, handing over the odd package.

Jaskier had always been a rip-it-open present person, but he took his time, although there was no salvaging the taped up paper.

“A lute?” he turned to Geralt in delight, face lighting up.

“A lute,” Geralt said. “Is-is that a good thing?”

“Oh my god, Geralt, yes! Oh I love it! I can’t wait to learn it!” Jaskier dropped kisses all over Geralt’s face, careful of his new baby.

He handed Geralt the little package. “It’s not as great but...”

Geralt was a folding kind of person and folded up the wrapping paper carefully, then he opened the box and took out the amulet with the silver wolf’s head.

“Oh,” Geralt said.

Oh. Was that a good oh or a bad oh? Jaskier tried to breathe slowly.

“Jaskier I...” 

Oh no. He hated it.

“It’s perfect.”

What?

“When I was little I thought I’d be a knight,” Geralt said, pale eyes shining. “And I drew wolf’s heads on everything, my crest, I said.”

Geralt was holding up the amulet as if transfixed. 

“Vesemir can show you, he kept the drawings,” Geralt said. Then he slipped the medallion over his head.

“My knight,” Jaskier said. “My wolf.”

Geralt gave a playful growl. Jaskier’s heart thumped a little harder. Geralt must have picked up on something in his eyes because he cocked his head.

“Oh?” he rumbled, low in his chest. “You want a wolf, do you?” He growled again.

Jaskier leapt up, shrieking with laughter and ran to hide in the bathroom. Geralt caught up before he could close the door.

“I’ll huff and I’ll puff,” he said, dragging Jaskier closer and giving him a bear hug. He growled in Jaskier’s ear.

“And I’ll blow your...how does it go?”

“I’m not sure, wolfie,” Jaskier said, pulling Geralt closer by the amulet. “But I think it ends with you eating me all up.”

It was a very merry Christmas indeed.

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

Ope! Idiots! With a random appearance from BBC’s Merlin (In 2020? I guess.) and a little old lady. + the magic of christmas.

[stariwrites]

The way Denki and I would bully Bakugou aosbsosbsib if we were friends and he said something mean (but not actually mean) I would just automatically say “jail, jail for Bakugou” and Denki would jump in. Our banter would be absolutely priceless

Bakugou trying to give me a pep talk/hype me up: Are you a bitch?

Me: Absolutely I am, my mother raised a bitch and a coward. I may be both of those things but at least I chose life.

Bakugou *deep sigh*: you’re supposed to say no

Me: Oh….

——————————

Denki *whispering about All Might*: I heard he lived through the Great Depression

Me: Great! Hopefully I can live through mine.

Sero: *chokes on his water*

Kirishima: *cackling*

Denki: *wheezing*

Bakugou: You’re all idiots.

Me: You love us

Bakugou: Do I?

——————————————-

Bakugou *trying the pep talk again*: Are you a bitch?

Me: No!

Bakugou: Are you a doormat?

Me: No!

Bakugou: You gonna let some damn extras walk all over you?

Me: No!

Bakugou: So what are you going to do?

Me: I’m gonna get hard!

Bakugou: Hell yeah you-hah?!

Me: I’m gonna show the world I’m hard and I’m coming!

Bakugou:

Denki:

Sero: Was that a Camp Camp reference?

Kirishima *upset he missed the chance to say it when Bakugou was giving him a pep talk*: Yeah

———————————————————

Me: I haven’t had water in five days, I’ve been living off of Cherry coke and spite for the past week. I don’t even know what day it is but I’m vibing.

Bakugou *eye twitching*: you are one of the biggest idiots I have ever seen. Take care of yourself Dammit or so help me I will force you to eat healthy.

Me:

Bakugou:

Me: No🤍

Bakugou: That’s it, I’m making you dinner and so help me god if you don’t throw those disgusting fucking hot pockets away I’ll kill you.

Me: Listen, they’re so good though-

Bakugou: Banned.

———————————————-

Bakugou: Do you know where you’re going?

Me: Pft, absolutely I do, do you doubt me that much? I’m wounded.

*Five seconds later*

Me: So I may have lied-

[mindofharry]

Try a little tenderness is on, you’re in a a flowy summer dress and harry is in one of his flowery shirts and plain shorts. you both showered earlier together and then settled down to watch 10 things i hate about you. One of your favourites and one that harry likes too. After that you both decided carbonara was the meal you would make on the first night of your honeymoon.

“you smell good” you sighed snuggling your head into his chest as he moved you both around. “thanks, baby. used your shampoo by the way” he replied making you giggle. “i noticed” you say as he twirled you around. Dreams by fleetwood mac came on making the tempo of your dances change. Your dress twirled around as harry danced around the kitchen with you.

You never wanted this moment to end.

or you and harry have your honeymoon in italy.

The drive to the cottage made you feel car sick. You had begged harry to rent a car and let you drive, but he insisted on driving his new wife to the cottage. You love to drive. One reason why is because you never feel sick in the drivers seat, and because driving is just so relaxing to you.

“you’re not driving” Harry said taking the keys off of you. You pouted and stomped your foot like a two year old. Harry raised his eyebrow and pulled you into a hug. You got married two days ago, staying at a hotel in london before heading off on your romantic voyage. Harry (and you, but mostly harry) has been looking foward to visiting italy again. You’ll even say he was more excited to speak italian than say his vows. You can admit, italy has so much history. you both met here, you staying here for work and harry obviously here for a shoot or something. You bet at a local bar and hit it off straight away.

Harry and you spent the chunk of his trip together. At the beach, his hotel, your apartment, the bar. You thought it would just be a summer fling - but here you are, married and back in italy. Nothing beats it to be honest, you wouldn’t change a thing.

So here you are, in his car that harry loves, trying to keep your lunch in your stomach. Why didn’t you buy a bottle of water? And why didn’t you put your foot down with driving? Your stubborn usually, something harry loves about you. But once harry brings out those green puppy dog eyes and famous pout, there’s no way you can cause a fight over it, and that asswhole knows you can’t say no to the pout and puppy dog eyes.

“you ok baby?” the bastard asked with a smirk. you groaned and opened your window ignoring his question, harry placed his hand on your thigh his cold rings bringing some comfort to you. “we’ll be at the cottage in 5. you can hold onto until then, right”

He asked and you nodded placing a hand on your forehead. “i’m fine, just wished i ignored that pout” you mumbled making harry chuckle. “no one can resist it, honey” he said making you nod. It’s true, you’re not the only one. His mum, for one. The only that gave him those fucking eyes, can’t resist them. When he was a child the minute he didn’t get something - bam, puppy dog eyes and he’d get it straight away. The same with poor jeff. He just can’t say no.

“you definitely take advantage of us” you say, silently thanking god as you see the cottage just up the road. Harry scoffed putting on the indicator to park the car. “i do not take advantage of people. i just get what i want very quickly” he said making you laugh.

“sure, baby. if that’s what you want to call it”

Unpacking it the most relaxing thing for you and harry to do with each other. You offer to help him when he gets home from tour and trips etc, it’s relaxing and nice to just talk.

“How much did you bring?” Harry asked opening up your suitcase. “the right fucking amount. we’re here for two weeks, har. Not two days” you replied making your husband roll his eyes and open up the drawers.

Your husband.

you’ll never get used to that. Harry styles is your husband. you get to come home to him, have his babies, go to his concerts, paint his nails. You also get to watch endless amount of rom coms without any complaints so that’s definitely a plus.

“Don’t complain, just put away my clothes” you say only getting a kiss on your shoulder in response.

“Hey, why don’t we go out to the pool for a bit. unpack later? want to see my wife in a bikini” Harry said leaning back on the bed, you grinned and picked up one of your favourite pink bikinis.

“you’re desperate to see my tits, aren’t you?” you asked only getting a boyish grin from your husband. “ok fine. i’ll meet you outside then” you say grabbing your bikini and making your way to the bathroom. “hey! i wanted to see those beautiful boobs of yours!” harry yelled as you locked the bathroom door. “too late”

You changed in record time, tying up your hair and putting on some lotion and your sun glasses. Luckily you had waxed and shaved everywhere before coming on the trip. Usually you don’t mind having a little hair, but this time it was a little different. Harry always said he doesn’t care, but you’ve done it now so he better like it. Your bikini was a little small, but that was kind of the point. The last time you wore it was last year in spain - harry and his little (boner) friend liked it very much too.

You stepped out of the bathroom and heard harry jump into the pool outside. Walking outside you grab the attention of harry and unbeknownst to you, the two 14 year old boys next door. All men were gobsmacked and harry couldn’t believe you were all his.

“i’m so glad i put a ring on you” he said getting out of the pool and placing his arms around you, getting you all wet (in more than one way). “hmmm. is it just for my body?” you teased, harry shook his head kissing your neck. “i love you for how smart you are. God, you’re like a dictionary. And how kind and selfless you are, so nice to everyone. And of course your perky little tits”

You rolled your eyes “My perky little tits love you too” you replied moving around him and bending down. Harry god a good look at your ass, hello boner.

You guys stayed in the pool for awhile. Sometimes swimming together other times alone. You even had a little swimming contest that you won - harry said he let you win. But you know when he’s lying and you’re obviously a much better swimmer than him. The pool is refreshing and cool in the scorching heat and you’re sure harry’s going to burn because he hasn’t reapplied any lotion whatsoever.

After getting out of the pool you both lay out on two chair, waters and cokes in between you both. “Harry, let me put lotion on you. you’re as red as a lobster” you plead making him sigh. “fine but only because i want to” he pouted sitting up.

You rubbed the lotion all of his skin, enjoying the little winces he lets out. serves him right for not listening to his wife. You always warn him, but he never listens. One day you’re just going to stop and he’ll have to put his own lotion on.

“i love you”

“i love you too, now massage me”

It was getting dark out once you decided to cook dinner, you were going for dinner tomorrow instead too tired to go out right now. Anyways you love cooking with harry, it’s nice. Have some stevie nicks and otis redding on in the background while talking about different types of food is oddly comforting and such a nice thing to do at the end of the day. And harry doesn’t like to take over either - he does his bit of cooking, you do yours and that’s that. There’s always a dance break too, like right now.

Try a little tenderness is on, you’re in a a flowy summer dress and harry is in one of his flowery shirts and plain shorts. you both showered earlier together and then settled down to watch 10 things i hate about you. One of your favourites and one that harry likes too. After that you both decided carbonara was the meal you would make on the first night of your honeymoon.

“you smell good” you sighed snuggling your head into his chest as he moved you both around. “thanks, baby. used your shampoo by the way” he replied making you giggle. “i noticed” you say as he twirled you around. Dreams by fleetwood mac came on making the tempo of your dances change. Your dress twirled around as harry danced around the kitchen with you.

You never wanted this moment to end.

You could see you bringing your children here in a couple years, dancing with them to otis and fleetwood. That would be nice, you thought.

Making dinner was full of smiles, laughing and dancing. Just how you like it.

“This is amazing, baby” Harry said placing a hand on your thigh. “you made it too, har. take some credit” you say sipping at your wine. Harry squeezed your thigh and continued to eat his pasta - adele was currently on in the background, making it as peaceful as ever.

“i’m so glad i’m your husband”

“baby” you pouted pecking his lips. “i’m glad to be your wife” you say pecking his lips again. His lips are soft and something you could addicted to. You could kiss him for hours straight if you could.

“i think we should visit the bar we met in sometime tomorrow” you say, harry nodded in agreement. “yeah, they have nice sangria there too” harry replied making you roll your eyes.

“and a place full of beautiful memories” he added, you laughed nodding “that’s more like it. but yeah, the sangria’s are to die for” you agreed kissing his cheek before standing up and clearing off the table.

“why don’t you pick another movie and i’ll wash up?”

And so harry practically made you go into the living room and pick out a movie. Angus, thongs and perfect snogging - one he also didn’t mind. He really is the perfect husband. He did mind a little when you said the main male character, robbie was your crush when you were younger.

“so you weren’t a directioner?” he asked and you cackled “of course i was! i had multiple crushes baby!” you say trying to justify your crush on the character. Harry gave you the silent treatment for 10 minutes.

“Are you done ignoring me yet?” you asked as georgia the main character, flirted with robbie. harry sighed and pulled you into his chest making you look up at him.

“i guess. maybe you’ll have to kiss it better” he teased making you giggle but place your lips on his.

“i think i’m ready for bed, mr styles”

Harry bit his lip and pulled you off the couch making you squeal and laugh.

“i think so too, Mrs styles”

[shutupanakin]

Wasting Your Time Ch.3

“Wh— what?” Tommy choked out, his voice hoarse from the lack of use all day.

The man rolled his eyes, as if he didn’t just ask a completely impolite question. “I said, do you have any booze?”

Tommy sat still. He reached into his jacket pocket, his hand finding only a plastic pen. Could he stab this man with a plastic pen?

Tommy pulled said piece of plastic out, visibly holding it up. “I have a pen.” Something about the bemused look on the man's face made Tommy click it, and again, repeatedly.

click click click click click click click click—

...

or; Tommy planned on dying. He meets Wilbur instead.

Chapter Summary: Tommy is wrong. Wilbur tries to teach him color theory.

cw for suicidal ideation

Tommy was not proven right.

In better words, his thesis, his argument, it was wrong. He was wrong, okay? He could admit that! He was wrong and Wilbur was right. Wilbur, him, and his stupid antithesis. Wilbur got the good grade, Wilbur got the pat on the shoulder from the teacher. Tommy got credit for participation. Tommy got a pity smile and a gold star sticker and a ‘good job! You tried!’

Tommy should be happy. He is happy! He talked to Tubbo and Ranboo. After they were all done with classes on Friday, because Tommy had waited that long— he talked, and they listened! They did!

“ Would you guys be happier if I— I don’t know. Stop hanging around you, or something?” He was picking at the thread, pulling it so tight he could feel it move the inside of his sleeve.

The answer he got? They said no. Ranboo was quiet, letting Tubbo babble. Then Ranboo would reword what Tubbo said, more coherently. And Tommy resisted his urge to just scream, because that was their dynamic. Of course it was! Tubbo was the controlled forest fire and Ranboo was damage control.

What Tommy did not expect was when he had pointed that out, his friends didn’t let him burn out like he thought they would. Tommy wasn’t the tree burning up, Tommy was the water that Ranboo was using to put it out.

They had hung out at Ranboo’s all weekend, after that. Sam was busy and couldn’t handle the noise, Tubbo’s dad worked nights and refused to leave the house to them alone. Ranboo’s cousin was cool about it, thank god. The guys' friends were fucking awesome, Tommy thought. The shorter American was telling him about Molotov Cocktails and one with the stupid fucking glasses tried to teach him and Tubbo some clutch in Minecraft.

Tommy wasn’t afraid to admit that he lost.

The train, as it always does, stops in front of him. Tommy didn’t hesitate this time, grabbing his seat at the back. There might have been more of a skip in steps this time, but no one he knew was there to point it out. The woman at the front promptly ignored him. He sat down, hands tucked firmly in his jacket pockets.

He did not doubt that Wilbur would show up this time. The man himself had indicated that he’d love being proven right. Tommy was willing to let him take this, to take this ego boost. Tommy knew when to admit that he was wrong— he was, okay?

“I like your pin.” Ranboo’s cousin said, passing him a coke from the fridge. “Smile. Nice.”

Tubbo looked at him, his eyes settled on Tommy’s jacket. He reached out, fabric gripping up in his hand. His thumb ran over the yellow and black pin. “Bee.” Tubbo tilted his head. “When did you get this?”

“Oh. Uh.” Tommy stuttered. “Uhm. Two weeks ago! There’s this cool shop a bit out that sells them.”

Tommy fiddled with the bee, adjusting the diagonal position it had fallen into. He didn’t tell Tubbo or Ranboo about Wilbur— he didn’t know how to explain it. How to explain him. He didn’t want to tell them what had led him to go to the train station in the middle of the night. That was a conversation that Tommy was simply not ready for, yet.

Wilbur was also eerie, and he was sure that only Tommy himself could deal with his weirdness for a whole night. He would probably psychoanalyze Tubbo and make him cry, or monologue to Ranboo and give him a breakdown. He’d keep them separated for a bit, Tommy decided.

When they pulled into their next stop, Tommy didn’t shut his eyes this time. He watched Wilbur come into view through the window. Wilbur entered swiftly, following behind a man that nabbed a seat in the front.

“Hello, fellow science experiment,” Wilbur grinned, placing himself down opposite Tommy. “I assume it went well?”

If Tommy was in a worse mood he would curse him out. “I’ll have you know, it went exceptionally well, Mr. Soot. I even walked here with a bit of pep in my step. I did that! Not you!”

“Of course you did, they were your words, I just gave you a motive.” Wilbur hummed.

Tommy scowled. There it was. “You’re a prick,”

“A correct prick.” Wilbur said. “So your friends took it well then?”

Tommy hesitated. “Well. You could say that? They’re trying, now. They’re listening. I’m not just hitting the pavement anymore. But we’re talking! And we spent the whole weekend at Ranboo’s!”

“So you are getting somewhere,” Wilbur concluded. Tommy nodded.

“It— it’s nice enjoying myself, hanging out with them. Ya know? Like it’s not a chore. It’s easy. I don’t have to zone out to be around them.”

They stopped. No one got on, the man remained at the front.

When Tommy was around them, he would have to do that. Zone out. Sometimes it wasn’t on purpose, other times he just found himself begging to just go, anywhere else, but he was too aware to go away, their voices were too loud and the air was too cold and Tommy couldn’t fucking breathe—

He didn’t feel that way all weekend.

Tommy didn’t feel trapped. He was in the present. He was in the present and he was happy. If not just for a few moments, Tommy was okay and he didn’t have to think about anything else.

“So it worked,” Tommy said. “It did! We’re working on it; this weekend was fucking great though. I know how to make a Molotov Cocktail now—“

“You what —“

“I didn’t actually make one,” Tommy emphasized. “I was just taught how! It’s quite easy actually! Ranboos' cousin, one of his friends just... it was a lot of vandalism advice.”

Wilbur groaned. “Please do not get arrested for vandalism. You need better influences.”

“You’re a bad influence,” Tommy waved him off. “don’t worry big man. Can’t come to see you if I’m arrested. Sam would also kill me. In cold blood. Dead, I would be dead as fuck, man.”

If Sam had to bail him out for something as stupid as setting something on fire, he would be so fucked. Oh, Sam was so fucking overbearing when he was paying attention, he would never hang out with Ranboo again. Or Tubbo for that matter. Sam would deadbolt his door closed. Tommy would never see the sun again. Screw prison, Sam would lock him up himself.

Tommy will not be doing that, thank you. If anyone offered to help him burn something down, he would certainly not be taking it.

They stopped. A woman got on, the clanking of her jewelry as she sat down echoing in Tommy’s ears.

“How am I a bad influence?” Wilbur enquired.

“HAH!” Tommy blurted. “Look at me! Mr. Soot! I go on trains in the middle of the night! I gamble with teenagers. I am suuuuuuch a good role model.”

“I do not gamble with teenagers!” Wilbur cried. “No money has been placed! I told you that!” Wilbur accused. “Also I am not the one telling you to blow stuff up.”

“ Memememememe — I said nothing about blowing anything up,” Tommy argued. “I was at most implying arson. I said absolutely nothing about exploding shit! That’s you!”

Wilbur slapped his hand against his forehead. “Oh, you insolent child!”

“Oh, you cryptic old man!”

Wilbur shot up. “Hey!”

“I hardly know anything about you,” Tommy retorted. “You— you could be a war criminal or something for all I know—“

“Do I look like a fucking war criminal to you?” Wilbur interrupted.

“... You could be!” Tommy exclaimed. “What’s your favorite color?”

“What is your favorite color?”

“Red. Answer the question.”

Wilbur groaned. “Blue. Used to be teal.”

“Why did it change?” Tommy pressed.

“There is not enough of it here,” Oh god, Tommy thought. Here we go. “The sky is cloudy. The water is gray. It is muted, it is drowning in black and white film instead of saturation. I wish there was more of it. Especially down here.” He longed, Tommy was exasperated.

“Wilbur, we are underground. Look at the graffiti.” Tommy deadpanned. “Or just go on Google man. Color blue— not everything needs to be a Greek tragedy.”

“That is not a natural blue,” Wilbur objected. “It is artificial! From a spray bottle, or on a screen!”

“I’ll bring you some flowers or something, okay?” Tommy snapped. “You’ll get your fucking blue.”

“I will sneeze on you.”

Tommy hit the side of the seat. “You will not!”

Wilbur made a face, rearing his head back. “A—a— ACCHOO. Like that. But you will not be expecting it.”

“Fuck you! And your blue!” Tommy exclaimed, Wilbur cackled.

“And why do you like the color red so much then?”

There was no special reason as to why Tommy enjoyed red. When teachers asked in primary school he gave it as a response, no deep or intricate thought attached to it. That was the difference between him and Wilbur. Everything Wilbur did and said seemed to have some sort of deep thought attached to it, everything he said was planned out, and said carefully.

Tommy was decidedly not that.

Tommy existed in the moment and Wilbur existed around it, quietly observing. Whispering. Taking notes.

“No reason,” Tommy shrugged. “It’s just kinda nice. Loud.”

“Like you.” Wilbur teased.

Tommy groaned, hitting the back of his head against the glass. “Stop patronizing me! I’m done doing color theory with you!”

“Oh I can do color theory—“

Tommy put his hands out, gesturing for him to stop. “No, no. Please do not. I’m begging you. I can only handle so much of your monologues.”

Wilbur scoffed. “My ‘monologues’ are fantastic, I will have you know.”

“You should write songs,” Tommy said. “You’re a right emo; you— you— you could take all that messed up shit up there,” Tommy pointed. “and make stuff. I dunno.”

“I mean I used to,” Wilbur breathed. “not anymore though.”

“Why not?” Tommy pushed.

“Have not felt like it.” He said simply. “No fun in doing it anymore. Can not even sing to anyone.”

Tommy’s brows furrowed. “That’s shit,” he grumbled.

“Poor me, having to exist being friendless!” Wilbur sighed. Tommy knew he was being dramatic, but it still made Tommy glare.

“Hey!” Tommy objected. “I’m your friend!”

“That just makes me sad,” Wilbur groaned, rubbing his face. “we are friends?”

“ Nooo,” Tommy drawled. “I only meet mere acquaintances on the tube line in the middle of the night.”

“You came back here because of our deal,” Wilbur pointed out. Tommy’s brows creased, because technically he was right. To be proven right, to be proven wrong, that’s why he kept coming here. Some sort of odd mutual trust and genuine curiosity enabled Tommy to keep coming back.

Sam might call it a lack of self-preservation.

And he wouldn’t be wrong, sneaking out in the middle of the night, to a tube station, alone, to meet a practical stranger was in every right dangerous. The first time Wilbur had stumbled into the seat across from him, Tommy couldn’t bring himself to care about that part, the danger. If Wilbur had mugged him then and there it wouldn’t have changed anything.

Once again, the thought of not seeing Wilbur again was bothering Tommy. Did Tommy want to make another deal? To continue this odd tradition? Tommy felt, alright. Kinda. He was happy. This was a good weekend. His classes yesterday were bearable, the overwhelming feeling to pull his hair out was muffled under the warmth in his chest.

Did feeling better mean he would never see Wilbur again? Surely they could keep doing this. Just a... check-up.

“You should play again,” Tommy suggested. “if not for anyone else, then just for yourself ya know?”

“Do you play anything?” Wilbur asked.

“I know piano,” Tommy thought. He hadn’t played said instrument in a bit. He had a keyboard that sat in his closet collecting dust. He hadn’t taken it out since he moved into the flat with Sam. “I haven’t played it in a while. Too much noise.”

Their stop was coming, Tommy realized. Tommy hit his leg awake, standing up. “Guess we will dive into that later,” Wilbur said. Tommy shook his head.

“No, no,” Tommy was going to put a stop to that right now. “I’m not you. There’s no deep, depressing reason. I just don’t play anymore. Stop psyche evaluating me, or whatever the fuck you people call it.”

“Alright, alright.” Wilbur said lightly. Taking the lead as Tommy followed him out. “Are you still going to get pins?” Tommy hummed an ‘mm-hmm’ in response.

“I like the pins,” Tommy confirmed. “Do you want anything?”

Wilbur shrugged him off. “Nah,” He waved. “Knick knacks, I would have no use for that. Nowhere to put them.”

“Are you homeless?” Okay, that was a bit rude, Tommy would admit. But that slipped, alright? “Because that would explain a lot actually.”

“ No,” Wilbur said immediately. “I have a house, Tommy.” He groaned in exasperation. “Believe it or not, I can exist in different places other than a tube station. ”

“No, but it makes sense! Every time I see you you’re wearing the same shit!”

“It is my Tuesday jumper,” Wilbur defended. “I already told you that.”

“ It is my Tuesday jumper .” Tommy mocked. “Fuck you. You don’t have a house.”

They stopped outside the glowing Jack Of All Trades sign.

“Get something cool this time. Like an orca.” Wilbur suggested as Tommy pushed open the glass door, Tommy mumbling a ‘will do’.

Jack leaned over the counting, scrolling through his phone. His eyes met Tommy as he strolled further into the shop. “Hello again!” He put his phone down on the counter. “I was wonderin’ if you were gonna show up.”

“It’s become a habit,” Tommy said, reaching into the bowl.

“What’s ya name again?” Jack enquired.

Oh, Tommy realized. “Tommy,” He answered. He took the blood-orange-flame-shaped pin in his hand, placing it on the glass counter.

“You’re gonna run me out of pins,” Jack joked, sliding the pounds over to the register.

“You’re gonna run me broke,” Tommy joked back. He clipped the pin in, securing it. “Bye Jack!”

Jack waved as Tommy pushed out the door. Wilbur stood waiting for him, raising his eyebrow as Tommy showed him the new pin. “You did not get an orca,” Wilbur pointed, disappointed.

“He didn’t have any orcas, big dubs. Is that why you got banned?” Tommy asked, turning backward as he walked in front of Wilbur. “He didn’t have any orca merch? Is that it, Wilbur? Have I cracked the mystery yet?”

“Nope!” Tommy’s excitement visibly dropped. “Good guess! Still wrong.”

“ Ughhhh, ” Tommy groaned, kicking a stone. “Fuck you, man. Just tell meee,” Tommy begged.

“No,”

“Please.”

“Still no.”

“Did you steal something?”

“No.”

“Did you kill his mother?”

“ What ?!— Tommy, no!”

“Are you a felon, Wilbur?”

“Let me stop you while you are ahead,” Wilbur said. “The answer is no, no, and no. To everything.”

Fuck you, Tommy thought. He didn’t like not knowing things. He’d figure it out. He would drop it for now, because this clearly wasn’t getting anywhere, but he’ll make Wilbur slip. He will! He just needs to catch him off guard. He could do that! Outsmarting Wilbur would be a feat, an accomplishment.

“I’ll figure it out, you watch,” Tommy grumbled.

“Good luck with that Toms,” Wilbur hummed.

“I don’t need luck,” Tommy stated. “Just my big brain.”

“You do have a big head,” Okay, that was mean, Tommy thought.

“That was unnecessarily rude,” Tommy stated. “I can’t believe you’ve done this to me, Wilbur. My self-esteem. It’s ruined.”

“Oh come on,” Wilbur retorted. “I have a big forehead. Look.” Wilbur lifted the curly bangs that framed the front of his face.

“Oh no,” Tommy cried. “Don’t do that, please. My eyes! I can’t stare directly at it!”

Wilbur fixed his hair, chuckling. “My jumper buddy used to call me Forehead-Bur.”

Tommy snickered. “Jumper buddy sounds cool.”

“He really is not. He is a real loser.”

“Like you?” Tommy chortled.

Wilbur scoffed. “Shut it!”

When they got to the station, two women were standing together on the platform. Tommy nodded politely while Wilbur simply ignored them. When it had pulled in, Tommy trailed Wilbur to the back. The two women had sat down at the front.

“Got any plans for this week?” Wilbur asked, Tommy shrugged.

“Got a test Thursday. That’s about it.” Tommy thought. “I think Tubbo wanted to go to the mall Friday, dunno. I’ll have to text him.”

It would be the next time that Tommy would see him; his, Ranboo’s and Tubbo’s schedules made it difficult to see each other during the week. Tommy was no longer actively avoiding them now, though. Maybe Tommy could set up a game of Pub G, or CSGO.

He was starting to feel guilty for blowing them off, actually. Tommy would have to make up for that. He didn’t really regret coming to see Wilbur, he couldn’t. If Tommy was given the choice between playing a first-person shooter game on a Tuesday night with them versus… this…

Tommy knew what he would choose.

They stopped. No one on or off.

“You have anything planned?” Tommy asked.

Wilbur did not look like he was expecting to be asked. “Hmm,” He wondered. “Might go see my dad. Been a bit.”

Tommy did not know why that had shocked him so much. A father! Everyone had a father, Tommy knew that alright? That was completely logical.

Wilbur had just, given off the feeling of someone who didn’t have anyone. Wilbur was a feather floating in the wind. Tommy supposed that feather had to come from a bird then, perhaps it was missing it.

“You should bring your dad something,” Tommy said, shaking off the frown.

“Like what?”

“Like— like a snowglobe or something man, I don’t fucking know. Flowers!”

“He likes birds,” Wilbur thought aloud.

“Chicken,” Tommy decided.

“ No,”

“Chicken,” Tommy repeated. “You gotta let me know how that goes next time.”

“Next time?”

Oh.

They stopped. The two women left, the brunette left quickly while the blonde frowned at him.

Tommy forgot that they hadn’t even thought of another deal yet. Did they need that at this point? Couldn’t Tommy just show up and trust that Wilbur would be there, deal in the air or not?

“I... I—I think I want to keep doing this?” Tommy admitted, pulling at his hair. “Showing up. And talking, to you, ya know? I enjoy it. I keep thinking like, what deal, what bet this time we could make again. And nothing comes up.”

“You want another deal?

“Do you?” Tommy asked, genuinely. “I don’t… I don’t want to make you feel like you have to come back here.”

They stopped. A small group got on, this time kids around Tommy’s age holding bottles wrapped in brown bags.

Wilbur thought for a moment, like he was mewling over his next words carefully. “As long as you need me, we can keep doing this,” Wilbur said softly.

Catharsis, there it was. Tommy swallowed. “Okay. We can do that.” It was another deal, in all technicality. An extended one at that. Conditional.

But Tommy was relieved from that pressure of not knowing if there will be a next time. Because now he knows for sure there will be! And another after that!

Wilbur might have started as a buffer to what Tommy considered the inevitable, a simple delay. Despite the serotonin high that he had for the past few days, Tommy hadn’t forgotten about Wilbur. He hadn’t forgotten about why he met him in the first place.

Did he want to anymore?

Tommy didn’t have an answer, apparently.

That’s why he needed these meetings with Wilbur to continue, they got him to the end of the week, they got him through his current problems. He helped him fix his relationship with Tubbo and Ranboo. Maybe Tommy wanted to figure out what he could solve before he left. What he fixes— then he’ll decide.

He’d make up his mind then.

Because was Tommy’s decision to make, not Wilbur’s. Not Sam’s, not Tubbo’s, not Ranboo’s. His. He knew that. Alright! Tommy knew that.

They stopped. The loud group got off.

Tommy eyed them as they left. “It looks like you asked the wrong teenager for booze,”

Wilbur cackled, his boisterous laugh filling the now mostly empty train car. “I had forgotten I did that,” He giggled, wiping away at his eye.

“I didn’t!” Tommy pointed. “Man, I thought you were going to stab me. Or demand for my wallet. Or both.”

“You thought I was going to mug you?”

“You asked me for booze!”

“I was breaking the ice!”

“You break the ice by asking for alcohol ?”

“Yeah! You looked miserable. I thought you could use a good laugh.”

“I didn’t,” Tommy said. “I clicked a pen at you. I was prepared to stab you with that in case you were a wrongun.”

“Oh no, ink poisoning,” Wilbur dismayed. “What will I do?”

“Go to the ER,” Tommy replied. “But you’re probably banned from that too.” Wilbur was silent. Tommy had meant that as a joke. “Wilbur…”

“It is a long story,”

“Oh my god.”

“It is!”

“Geez man,” Tommy rubbed his temple. “And you scold me for making jokes about Molotov Cocktails!”

“They are mini bombs.”

“And you’re not allowed in places in half of England!”

“I did not set anything ablaze, Tommy,” Wilbur said, rising. His stop was next. The night was coming to an end. “Try not to get arrested between now and next week.”

There it was, his confirmation. “No promises big man!” The train was stopping. “Try to stop pissing people off!”

“See you, Tommy!” Wilbur stepped out, not looking back at Tommy.

When they moved again, Tommy startlingly realized that he was alone. Just him. Two weeks ago, Tommy would’ve killed for this. He would’ve died for this.

Tommy sat alone, and the flashing markers of the tunnel were too bright and the rumbling, vibrating feeling of the tube going at its ungodly speed was nauseating because Tommy should’ve been—

He could’ve been—

Tommy shook his head. Squeezing his eyes shut. He could drown out the lights. He was okay. He was alone, and that was okay. It didn’t matter. Being alone didn’t make a difference. Nothing changed. The time of the night was really starting to become very prominent to Tommy. He wanted to go home and just sleep. Tommy checked his phone, no new messages other than some old Instagram notifications.

When his stop came up, he practically bounced up and sprinted off of the train, pushing past a concerned-looking ginger woman. He was up the steps before the train could even pull out.

Tommy was alive for right now, and he was okay with that.

[alj4890]

Bryce x F!MC*Chris in a one shot.

A/N Just because I need more Bryce in Open Heart and was feeling a little angsty at how little we see him along with the whole "friend" mess. Plus it has been a crazy week personally spent in doctors' offices and hospitals, so my mind has definitely been in a medical mindset, LOL.

Rating PG for a little bit of language

@krsnlove @openheartfanfics ​ @ofpixelsandscribbles ​ @anotherbeingsworld @choicesficwriterscreations​ @twinkleallnight​

Masterlist

Ghosting

Chris didn't know how things had gotten to this point.

It couldn't be the work hours. She worked the same shifts Bryce did.

They had not had a fight. The last time they were together had been perfect. Romantic. Sheer heaven.

But if it was, then why had she not heard from him?

Not one phone call.

No texts.

Zero conversations at work.

Not even a flash of his flirty smile.

Absolutely nothing.

Chris thought they had become closer than ever when she was poisoned. Knocking on Death's door had caused Bryce to admit...well almost...what was in his heart.

And she certainly had not held back how she felt about him.

Then what happened? Why the silence? Why the pretending they did not have intimate knowledge of the other? Why was Bryce only speaking whenever their friends were around?

"Rookie?"

Chris looked up. Ethan, Harper, and Tobias were staring at her as if in expectation.

"Sorry." She mumbled. "My mind was elsewhere."

Ethan didn't bother to hide his irritation. "Do you know when it will arrive at work or is that too much to ask?"

"Lay off, Ethan." Tobias warned. "Everyone has their moments."

"Not weeks' worth." Ethan snapped. His eyes cut to Chris. "If being a part of the diagnostic team is too much for you then--"

"It isn't." Chris got to her feet, glaring at her mentor...one she thought was a friend. "I know you wouldn't understand since I doubt you're human, but this hospital is not my entire life."

Ethan stiffened, preparing to rip her a new one, when she turned on her heel and left the office.

Grumbling about a pretentious know it all doctor having something rather uncomfortable shoved up a certain orifice that should never be treated so badly, Chris hurried toward the elevator and slammed on the down button.

Without looking up, she stepped forward and into the arms of the one she hadn't had any contact with.

"Whoa there!" Bryce dropped his arms and ran a hand through his hair. "Where's the fire, Valentine?"

Tears pricked her eyes at something like that being the first words he said to her after weeks of radio silence.

Ignoring him, she reached over and punched the first floor button.

Bryce cocked an eyebrow. "Chris?"

She folded her arms and kept her gaze locked on the floor numbers counting down.

He reached over and stopped the elevator.

"What are you doing?!" She knocked his hand away when he brushed her hair over her shoulder.

"Checking to see if there has been any damage to your ear." His lips twisted into that smile she had once claimed made her melt. "I could have sworn you had perfect hearing."

That did it. That was the spark to set off the tinder that had been doused in gasoline, propane, and napalm.

Chris rounded on him, causing him to back up against the wall.

"How would you know if my hearing was perfect? You never talk to me!"

His eyes narrowed. "I do too."

"You don't!" She wanted to grip his scrubs and shake him. "You haven't called. Come over to see me. Asked--"

"I've been busy working and studying." He snapped back. "You're not the only doctor who has to do that."

"Please." Chris hit the button to get them going. "We used to study together. I know you don't break a sweat over books."

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed how hurt Bryce seemed.

"Chris, I know we, well, I mean I--"

She eyed him struggling. "Save it, Lahela. I don't care anymore."

He visibly blanched at her choice of words. "Chris, come on. You don't mean that."

"I do mean exactly that." She walked out of the elevator, leaving him devastated as he watched her walk out the front door of the hospital.

****************

That night, there was a timid knock to Chris's bedroom door.

"Who is it?" Chris called out from under her mound of blankets.

"It's us." Sienna, Elijah, and Aurora poked their heads in.

Chris softly groaned at her roommates' unwillingness to let her wallow in misery.

"Is she under the blankets or preparing to show Scalpel Jockey that she doesn't need him to have fun?"

Chris sat up with a start when she heard Jackie's voice on speaker phone.

"Really?" She sighed. "Every roommate has to be in on this?"

"She's been under at least three blankets." Aurora reported to Jackie.

"Five." Elijah finished counting the corners.

"Five blankets!" Jackie exclaimed. "This is worse than we thought."

Sienna sat down on the bed and threw her arms around Chris. "What happened?"

"Nothing happened." Chris wriggled out of her embrace. "I just needed to be alone." Her bottom lip trembled at the thought of this actually being her reality. "I'm--I was--tired."

"Is she doing that lip twitch when she won't share the whole truth?" Jackie asked.

The other three said, yes.

"Don't you have better things to do?" Chris snapped. "Jackie should be focusing on patients and interns minding their residents. You--"

"I am." Chris could practically hear Jackie's proud smirk. "But I am one of those highly talented doctors who can not only keep watch over my patients and keep those interns in line, but also make a friend of mine get her act together."

"I have my act together." Chris grumbled. "My act can be together while enjoying the comfort of my room."

"Get dressed." Sienna ordered. "We're going to Donahue's."

Chris shook her head. She could feel the familiar sting of tears forming at the thought of seeing Bryce there with the other surgeons. "No thanks."

"I'm sorry," Sienna's voice had sharpened. "Did that sound like an offer?" She jerked the blankets off of Chris. "Aurora, pick out an outfit that will make men drool. Elijah, go start the shower. And you," she jabbed a finger toward Chris, "You will get ready and go out tonight."

Chris's jaw dropped while the others scrambled to do as she said. She could hear Jackie's compliments over Sienna's bossiness as her friends left the room.

Knowing she wouldn't get a moment's peace, the young doctor forced herself out of bed for a night of drunken revelry.

***************

"Here." Sienna slammed down a tray of shots. "First thing to do is to get you relaxed."

"How relaxed do you want her?" Aurora asked eyeing the numerous glasses. "This will send Chris to the emergency room!"

Chris was tempted to down them all just to get out of staying in the bar crowded with doctors.

"They're not all for her." Sienna giggled. "We can't let her drink alone."

Elijah picked one up with a grin. "Anything for a friend."

"Is she drinking?"

Chris's eyes darted toward the cell phone sitting on the table. "Jackie?! Why are you still on the phone?"

"I told you. I have wonderful multitasking abilities." She replied. "Now down three shots."

Chris glared at the phone while doing so. She winced at the burn while slamming the third glass down. "Happy now?"

"It's a start." Jackie cackled. "Now go flirt and mingle. Dance and Gary! Who allowed Fisher to give an enema to the patient in room 3145?!"

"Have fun with that." Chris smirked at the panic she could hear before ending the call.

Aurora blinked a few times after her fourth shot. "I don't know why I try and keep up with all of you when it comes to drinking."

Elijah side hugged her. "Because you're the best."

A shy, delighted smile appeared on her face.

Sienna pushed Chris out of the booth. "Go do what Jackie said."

Chris caught herself before stumbling into Tobias. "Okay, okay. Jeez you are freakishly strong for someone so tiny."

Sienna burst into giggles while trying to appear fierce. "Don't you forget it."

Chris shook her head while making her way to the bar. Not bothering to meet anyone's eyes, she squeezed in between two men and asked Reggie for a bottle of water and a Rum and Coke.

"Looks like you're feeling better, Rookie."

Her gaze flew to Ethan's. "Not really." She cocked her head toward the back table. "I have too many doctors forcing their prescription upon me."

He chuckled at that before sobering. "Listen Chris, I'm--I apologize for being hard on you today."

"Me too. I mean for not giving our work my full attention." She dropped her head for a moment. "I promise I'll get my head back into the game, coach."

He nodded in approval. "I know you will." He squeezed her shoulder before finding his way to his usual seat.

She slipped onto a barstool while waiting on Reggie to finish her order.

"Another round of beers please."

Chris froze at the voice coming from over her shoulder.

Bryce moved beside her before realizing it was Chris.

His eyes widened.

She ignored him.

"Hey." He said softly.

"Hey." She repeated in what she hoped was an I'm not interested in you, hope you get your heart stomped on tone of voice.

He folded his arms on the bar, drawing her eyes to the way his t-shirt formed over his muscles. His hair was flopping dangerously close to his right eye causing her to be tempted to brush it back. His handsome face held sad longing in its expression.

His eyes were traveling over her low cut top and miniskirt before lifting back up to her face. "You look amazing, Chris."

Her lips twisted into an overly bright smile. "I know." She thanked Reggie when he handed her drinks over. Sliding out of her chair, she made certain to brush up against Bryce.

His body stiffened with lips parting in anticipation. His hands lifted to grip her waist, as if hoping to keep her there.

She immediately sashayed away, casting a mischievous look over her shoulder. "Have a good night Bryce."

"Chris, I--" he slouched against the bar as she left him for the back patio.

*****************

After delivering the beers to his fellow surgeons, Bryce glanced more at the texts Jackie had sent.

If you don't get that big head out of your ass, you will lose Chris forever.

She's not the type to stay single. Chris can only wait so long on you to decide what your relationship is.

Because me and everyone else are going to make sure she moves on.

And stop introducing her as your "friend". Everyone knows that's a load of BS.

Slipping his phone back into his pocket, he headed out to the back patio.

***************

Bryce halted in his tracks. Sitting beside Chris with his arm draped along the back of a seat meant for two was Tobias.

The pair were laughing while looking at one another.

Bryce grit his teeth together while trying to appear casual as he hurried over.

"I nearly lost it when you told Mr. Thompson--" Chris jerked her head to the left when Bryce squeezed into the spot next to her.

He smiled at her while slipping his arm around her waist. "Thanks for saving me a seat, Beautiful."

Her eyes narrowed.

"I never saved a seat for you. Feel free to take the one over there, Bryce." She turned once more toward Tobias.

Not one to give up easily, Bryce leaned close to her ear.

"I can't keep my eyes off you." He whispered.

He felt her stiffen. "Try." She ground out.

"Try what?" Tobias asked, thoroughly enjoying the couple's fight.

Color flooded Chris's cheeks.

"Can't we go somewhere private?" Bryce whispered.

"Feel free to leave!" Chris snapped.

"I guess I should go and check on Ramsey." Tobias chuckled at Chris trying to explain she meant for Bryce to leave. "See you at work Thursday, Valentine."

Chris wiggled away from Bryce. "What are you doing?"

"I'm trying to spend time with my favorite doctor." Bryce scooted closer, keeping his arm around her.

Chris eventually ran out of room to escape him. "I'm not your favorite anything anymore." She lowered her voice when she noticed other patrons turning their attention toward them. "I doubt I ever was."

Bryce's teasing expression fell. "Chris, you have been since that first day I found you crying in the supply closet." He ran his fingers through his hair while huffing at himself. "If I'm being honest, you have been the only one I wanted since I first laid eyes on you."

Chris shook her head. "Yeah, well, wanting me whenever you felt like it is not what I thought we had." She downed the rest of her drink. "I thought we were a couple in love."

Bryce leaned forward, bracing his arms on his legs as he looked at her. "Chris, we--I--you mean more..."

Her heart picked up the pace in anticipation. She knew hoped he felt more for her than friendship with a side of sexual attraction.

When he seemed stuck at finding the right words to express his feelings, she felt her need to be under every blanket in her apartment return.

She rose unsteadily to her feet.

"Chris, wait." Bryce pleaded, reaching out for her hand. "You know how I feel about you."

"No." She shook her head. "I really don't. Each time I think I do, you then stop calling and start introducing me as your good friend."

"You are a good friend. The best." He stood up pulling her into his embrace, hoping she would understand. "I've never had that."

She snorted, trying to push him away. "Please. You make friends everywhere you go."

His arms tightened around her. "I don't mean that. I mean, I've never been friends with someone I dated."

She stilled. "What?"

He shrugged. "I usually picked the most attractive and went after them. I didn't feel the spark of friendship and attraction for any of them." A soft smile formed as he looked into her eyes. "Until you came along."

Her eyes narrowed. "So you've been ghosting me because of that?"

"Yes." He shook his head. "No. I mean, I didn't mean to." His head dropped in frustration. "If I was with anybody else, you would have been the friend I would have gone to for relationship advice. But since you are the one I want to be in a relationship with, I couldn't come talk to you about how I should go about this."

Chris's lips were parted in confusion.

Bryce decided he wanted to communicate his feelings in a different manner.

Taking advantage of the position they were in, he captured her lips in a heated kiss. He felt a sense of triumphant when her fingers tangled in is hair. His hands drifted down, molding her soft curves to his hard muscles.

Bryce was dazed by the way she responded to his touch.

Chris broke away from the kiss. Her breath brushed his lips while she lifted her eyes to his. Gripping his t-shirt, she shook him.

"As a friend," she began, "I suggest you tell this Chris exactly what is in your heart or else she will end up ghosting you for a change."

His typical flirty smirk formed. "You think she might feel the same way about me?"

"Maybe." She replied, smiling back. "You'll never know if you don't tell her."

"I do hate unsolved mysteries." He muttered leaning down to kiss her once more.

Chris placed her index finger on his lips, stopping them from meeting her own. "Feelings first Lahela, then that."

"I love you, Chris." He responded.

She relaxed in his arms. "I love you too, Bryce." She leaned forward to kiss him. "And I'll make sure to give you an outline of how you will behave in our relationship.

His laughter soon turned to a moan from the intensity of her kiss.

"An outline huh?" He teased.

"Maybe a PowerPoint presentation." She smiled against his lips. "What else are friends for?"

[omg-im-such-a-masochist]

CONQUEST

Prompt: Based on the song Conquest (which originally is a Patti Page song but I’m using The White Stripes version because I love Jack White 🥰)

Word Count: Long-ish

Pairings: Seth Rollins x Reader

Warnings: Implied smut, love spell, a witch and a heartbreaker.

Tag: @marlananicole , @theworldofotps , @new-zealand-chic , @yungbludjazz360 , @drewmcintyrekoccsrocbwdgfan

Notes: So, one of my best friends was digging through her old laptop (one I used to use all the time when I was in her house) and found this little treasure into one of the writing folders. She thought it would be a good idea for me to post it so she sent it to me ☺️ Y’all know the drill loves,sorry for misspellings, english isn’t my first language (bla bla bla), check out my other stories if you’d like to(it would make your girl here very happy 😊) You can check them out on my Masterlist. Okay,now let’s get to the fun part, shall we? Hope you’ll enjoy 😉

Conquest

He was out to make a conquest

Didn't care what harm was done

Just as long as he won the prize

‘The most beautiful man I’ve ever seen’ that’s how I would describe him.

‘The biggest manwhore in the world’ is also how I would describe him.

Not trustworthy at all, but still, that didn’t stopped me from wanting him...

Conquest

She was just another conquest

Didn't care whose heart was broke

Love to him was a joke

'Til he looked into her eyes

Softly singing an enchantment, I pour the honey and rose petals on the bowl. As the candles burned, I imagine my soon to be husband...his long dark hair, hypnotic chocolate brown eyes, smug smile, full beard, soft lips, rough hands that I couldn’t wait to have it roaming through my body

And then in the strange way things happen

Their roles were reversed from that day

The hunted became the huntress

The hunter became the prey

I walk into the pub I always see him at, and faithfully there he is. One redhead sitting on his left thigh, one blonde sitting on his right thigh but I don’t let that discourage me, that was expected considering whom we are talking about.

I take a sit at one of the bar stools and ordered a jack and coke. All I had to do was wait for him to make his move, which I knew he would at any minute now.

After 10 minutes, I can feel his gaze upon my figure...weighing his options, debating what should he do, what should he say, how he should approach me.

He left both women sitting there and made his way to the bar

“Jack and coke, huh? You don’t seem like the type”

“Don’t seem like the type of what?” I asked him

“Who likes the stronger stuff” He smirks

“Oh darling, you have no idea” I giggled, sipping my drink

“I’m Seth, by the way. You?”

“I thought you already had company” I point with my chin towards the two women waiting for him

“Well, nice to meet you Mrs. I thought you already had company. It’s a lovely name although kinda long” Seth chuckled

I rolled my eyes, saying “Y/N, the name is Y/N”

“So what do you say about finishing your drink back at my place, Y/N?”

“I would love to” I smiled fondly

Conquest

Now you know who made the conquest

She with all her female guile

Led him helpless down the aisle

She had finally made a conquest

Enjoying our post orgasmic bliss laying on his bed, Seth asked

“Is it true what people say?”

“About?”

“You being the daughter of the most powerful witch in Iowa?” He laughed

“What?” I rest my chin upon his chest “Of course not!” I lied “Do people still talk about that?” I chuckled

“Apparently yes, they still do” Seth seemed embarrassed

“I swear this people still think we live in the XVI century!” I straddle his hips, letting the sheet that covered my body fall upon his chest.

“If that was the case, I would have done some sort of love spell for you, wouldn’t I?” I tease him

“I guess you would” He smirked when my hips began to move, making him grow hard again

“Do you think I did that, Seth?”

“You would never do that, baby” He moaned

I position him at my entrance and sank down on it, making us both gasp. I begin to ride him and leaning down to his lips I whispered

“Of course I wouldn’t!” I lie and kissed his lips.

And then in the strange way things happen

Their roles were reversed from that day

The hunted became the huntress

The hunter became the prey

6 MONTHS LATER

“I love you” Seth giggles, offering me some of his ice cream

“I love you too, babe” I gave it a lick on his ice cream “That’s so good!” I moan

“Told you” He cackled, sitting down in one of the park benches and pulling me down, to sit on his lap

“Marry me” He suddenly said, making me almost choke on the ice cream

“What?”

“I said, marry me” Seth chuckled

“What kind of man are you? You don’t even ask, just assume I’ll say yes! That hurts, babe” I joke

Seth laughed loud

“I love you, you’re the woman of my life and you love me. There’s no need for asking! It’s a simple math...So, will you?” He asked hopeful

“Yes, I will” I smiled widely

Conquest

Now you know who made the conquest

She with all her female guile

Led him helpless down the aisle

She had finally made a conquest

Conquest

2 MONTHS LATER

“So, what do you think?” Seth asked as I look around our honeymoon suite in Hawaii.

“It’s perfect” I touched the rose petals upon the bed

“You’re perfect! Everything I’ve always wanted in a woman. My world, my wife, my life, my everything” He kissed me lovingly

“And no witch spell was required for that” Seth joked

“No” I giggled and hugged him tightly, placing my chin upon his shoulder “Of course not!” I lied

Staring at the ocean with a smug smirk on my face...

Please if you’re comfortable with it, let me know your thoughts on this? Feedbacks are always appreciated 🥰😘

[leggomylino]

Vibe So Hot | Han Jisung

Genre: Fluff, Comedy

Pairing: Han Jisung x fem!reader

AU: neighbor au, prank war au

Word Count: ~11.7k

Warning(s): mild language (censored)

A/N: inspired by the song “Vibe So Hot,” Priscilla Ahn

ღ Stray Kids M.List | M.List ღ

-〤〤〤-

There were times when you weren’t really sure about Han Jisung. 

The day you moved from your parent’s house into your new home, life was a dream. A delight. A living fantasy. You and your closest friend of twenty-odd years had been visualizing it for ages- a home for just the two of you, where you could make and break all the rules you wanted, eat dinner out of the cookie jar, throw paint and crayon all over the walls, and dump all the grease, homework, and leftover brussel sprouts down the garbage disposal that you wanted. It would be your kingdom with the two of you at equal pedestal on the throne, and no one could say or do anything about it.

While your visuals and ideals did change over time, what with hormones and taxes and a general understanding of how the world worked, you and F/n never stopped dreaming of the day you each held one half of the kingdom between your fingers. One half of freedom. It was a blissful, beautiful Tuesday morning. Exactly five months ago. Birds chirping in the small tulip trees. The sweet spring breeze ruffling the surrounding azaleas. The simple but water-efficient sprinkler system the two of you had worked a summer job to afford that was...spraying…...coke… 

...Yes, it had been a beautiful Tuesday morning. And also the arrival of hell next door.

“HAN JISUNG!” you yelled, banging on your neighbor’s front door. “Han Jisung, I know you’re home!” You stamped your foot. “Open this door right now!”

It was now five months later. Five months since you’d moved into your dream home, something small and sweet and affordable that you and your friend worked hard for years to achieve. Just something small to start the two of you out, while you finished up school and figured out what the heck the two of you wanted to do with the rest of your lives. 

It had easily become five months of back-and-forth hell. “HAN JISUNG!!!”

Click. The door slowly creaked open. It was dark inside, far too dark for 2 pm, like something out of a horror movie.

Oh, but you weren’t falling for another one of his tricks. Not this time. “Han Jisung, I know you’re there…” You called...weakly. “C-Come out this instant. I know it was you who stuffed cereal into the birdfeeder and left glue on the door handles. I was almost late for work this morning and F/n is stuck on the back porch.”

There was no response. You agitatedly sighed, running a hand through your hair and taking a handful of strands with you thanks to the faint remainder of krazy glue that simply wouldn’t come off.

“Han,” you called, poking your head inside. “Han? Han Jisun-”

The moment you stepped inside, a loud whrr! resounded, your body hoisting upwards. You spun around in the flimsily thin netting, falling into a fetal position backwards.

Han and a few of his cronies came out cackling at your expense, watching you gently spin and sway in their ridiculous trap. “I caught Y/n!” one of them cheered. “That’s 1,000 points.”

Another scoffed. “You didn’t do anything,” he said, blowing long blonde locks out of his face. “The points go to me for setting up the...project.”

“Shouldn’t they go to Han?” Yet another asked. “It’s his house.”

You rolled your eyes, attempting to adjust. Han tromped over proudly and swung his arm around the boy. “Exactly!” he cheered, pinching his cheek. “I’m glad you see it my way.”

The kid squinted his fox-like features in disgust, shoving the ringleader away from him. Han merely laughed, smirking up at you next. He sent a flirtatious wink your way. You scoffed.

“S’up, gorgeous?”

“Drop dead.”

“Ouch,” he playfully winced, pretending to take literal damage. “Didn’t like the glue, or the cereal? I told Hyunjin no one wanted his bland raisin garbage. But,” He shrugged. “He insisted it was good for the birds. The raisins, anyway-”

“Screw you,” Goldilocks groaned. “Shove off, I never said I ate the stuff. I just said it was better than wasting Lucky Charms or something actually good.”

“...Yeah, so there’s that.” He spared a passing eye roll before putting back on his deceitfully charming smile. Disgusting. “What brought you to swing by? Just dropping in?”

The other boys laughed again, causing you to turn an annoying shade of pinkish-red, some cross between coral and rouge. “I don’t have to tell you anything!” you snapped in your anger.

Unfortunately, Han Jisung needed to know the facts. “Then...how am I supposed to help you? Oh, oh! Hold on a minute.” He simpered. “Are you maybe trying to tell me that you came by unannounced because...you wanted to get caught up in my web?”

Han’s crew all made catcalls and whistles along with nervous smiles and suggestive expressions. The nerve of him. You fought yourself into an upright position, clawing angrily at the seams. “I meant you already know what you did wrong! Get me out of this stupid thing and get over to my house so you can fix it.”

“Oooo,” A freckled-faced boy you recognized as Felix cooed. He’d often been a leading officer in many of Han’s classic pranks and schemes. “I think she wants you bro.”

The heat on your face was intensifying, whether from rage or embarrassment, you didn’t care. Your prison shook. “That’s not what I-”

“Well then,” Han (classically) interrupted. “Guess I better get over there and fix it.” He wiggled his eyebrows in a salacious manner, padding around the clamour of boys and taking the stairs three at a time like a gazelle. When he reached the top, he revealed a rope from around the corner, lowering you gently...at first.

After three careful tugs, he dropped the rope entirely. Your eyes went wide, screaming as you fell--

...Right into Han Jisung’s arms. The boy glided down the stair rail and caught you at the last possible second. “Plenty of time to spare,” he insisted, showing you his teeth.

You slapped them away, wrestling your way back to your feet. “...You’re such an asshole, Han Jisung,” You dusted yourself off, smoothing out your attire single handedly. “I--”

...You yanked your hand down. Away from his face. Hard. Harder.

It was stuck. Your hand was stuck to his cheek. Krazy glue.

“OW! Ow ow ow okay! That hurts! Sh*t!” He cursed. You rolled your eyes, kicking his leg. 

“That’s what you get for gluing my door! Now come on!”

To make things less awkward, you gripped his left ear, yanking him like a mother would a misbehaving child. The others crowded around and followed, laughing as—

The door slammed in their face. “OW!” You heard Hyunjin yelp. His watered-down image through the distorted window showed him covering his nose, the other two goons frantically asking if he was okay.

...Well, Felix did, anyway. Fox-face merely stared and shook his head a little. “Let’s go. You’re cleaning the glue off both doors and changing out the birdfeeder. If you screw it up, you’re buying me a new one.” A harsh gaze fell over your shoulder. “After you unstick F/n!”

Han grunted, his groans and whines a feeble echo of white noise along with the ridiculous passes he occasionally made on the way over.

-〤〤〤-

After spending an hour and a half watching Han unstick glue from around your house (after unsticking your hand from his face) and taking a trip down to the hardware store for a new birdfeeder that 100% came out of his pocket, you sighed, trudging yourself through the front door and collapsing onto the nearest sofa by a front-facing window. You leered, observing Han shuffle up his own walkway and exchange harsh words with his friends before they all piled inside.

That bastard. He was always coming after you, ever since you first moved into the neighborhood. After the first week of assaults (from moving day) you’d asked the other neighbors if any of them had any bad experiences from house 117, but they all gave a generally same response: “Who, Han Jisung? Oh, heavens no! He’s such a nice boy! A little quirky, sure, but such a nice boy! ...Are you sure it wasn’t a raccoon or a stray cat?”

Heh, yeah. Like a stray cat was capable of impersonating your friend to have the locks on your house changed. Didn’t they have to do security checks for that stuff?!

Speaking of locks, the sound of keys ricocheted from your left, and you turned your head to see F/n enter...very strangely. They looked spooked, their eyes wide as they turned their head this way and that, creeping into the house like an Egyptian wall painting.

“Is the cost clear?” they asked. “Is he gone? Nothing’s missing? Nothing’s amiss?”

“Relax, F/n,” you said, scratching your head. You desperately needed a shower, but that had been rather hard with the pipes spewing nothing but Mr. Pibb for the past three days. It’d apparently be a fourth until they cleared out. “The menace is gone, back to his evil layer. I made sure he cleaned up his mess and got him to replace your grandmother’s birdfeeder.”

F/n scowled, back to normal as they tromped into the room, throwing their bags down. “She made that birdfeeder from scratch, Y/n. With her own two arthritis riddled hands, that birdfeeder may as well have been an ancient relic. It was one of a kind.”

“I know, I know,” you insisted, peacefully trying to calm them down. “Just relax. I got it under control and taken care of.”

“You said that last time. Now look at the place.”

You looked around. “...It looks spotless. Han actually did a really nice job with that extra work he put in.”

“Well it wasn’t before! ...Wait, you let him into the house?!”

Whoops. “Only to do some extra chores. To make up for outside. And many other times he’s screwed us over.”

Your friend grabbed the sides of their hair, practically seething. They regarded you like you’d gone insane, and they were just on the brink. “Y/n have you lost your mind? Are you stupid? I thought you were smart! What was that 3.5 GPA for?!”

“Hey, GPA isn’t everything. It’s just a matter of getting on a teacher’s good side and paying attention. Also, I’m aware that...that may have not been the best move. But it’s fine!” you insisted, now following your friend into the kitchen. “I was watching him the whole time. He didn’t leave my line of sight once!”

F/n opened the fridge, glaring perplexedly. “...Not once?”

“......” 

You thought. Oh wait...well…

You smiled sheepishly. “...Actually...ahaha...he may have asked to go to the bathroom once…”

F/n’s jaw dropped. “And you let him?!”

Your hands found their way into the air. “What was I supposed to do, F/n? Follow him into the bathroom? That’s creepy and gross and uncalled for.”

Your friend grabbed a beer from the fridge, slamming the door shut after. “No, Y/n. You tell him to go next door and use his bathroom.”

“But what if it was an emergency?”

“I think he can hold it.”

“But what if he couldn’t?”

They paused just beside you, giving you a harsh glare. “After all he’s done? I’d say that’s a real shame and another mess he’d have to clean up.”

“F/n--!”

“NO, Y/N,” Your friend of twenty-odd years turned to you, making it halfway back to the front door. “You don’t get it! It has been five years--”

“Five months.”

“...It has felt like I have had my guard up for five years. I can’t relax in my own home. I can’t relax at work, I can’t relax at school-- I can’t relax anywhere!” They polished off the beer, crumbling the can and tossing it aimlessly into the kitchen. You ducked, the can soaring over your left ear and colliding with a kitchen cabinet. “URGH!”

They grabbed their bags, beginning to march out. You were faster, sliding on sock-clad feet across Han-polished floors to beat them to it, blocking the exit. “F/n, listen. Please. I agree it’s bad, but I think you’re overreacting just a little.”

“Overreacting?! …” S/he crossed his/her arms, glaring at you skeptically and in disbelief. “Okay, fine. Which bathroom did he use?”

“Huh?”

“Which bathroom?”

You swallowed, thinking again. “...Uh...the upstairs one.”

F/n deadpanned. Cold and hard. “Great. Thank you for that. All my school supplies are up there. My office and workspace is up there. That’s where I sleep, Y/n.” You blinked. 

“You sleep in your office?”

“URGH!”

They pushed you aside, storming into the wide, open world. Hysterically you followed, snagging your keys off the side table by the front door and making sure to lock up behind you. “F/n- ...F/n wait…! Ah, stupid locks…!”

“Don’t follow me, Y/n!”

“WAIT!”

“I SAID DON’T FOLLOW ME!”

From the corner of your eye, a silhouette of dark brown hair and overly-white teeth made its way toward your property line. “Hello F/n, Y/n.” The careful fall breeze blew the shade from his eyes, where evil and mischief still resided. “Having a little back and forth banter, are we? A disagreement, perhaps?”

Han-bleeping-Jisung. Your vision narrowed, a scowl aimed directly at him. When he was around, it’s all you could focus on. Your senses heightened, and not in a good way. He couldn’t be trusted.

You shouldn’t have let him into your house. Your sensors were picking up on something. He seemed too happy for someone that was just forced into doing chores in a house that wasn’t their own. And willing so…

A hot vibe was residing along the back of your neck, between your shoulder blades. A sinking, sensationally bad feeling. “What can we help you with, Han?”

“Oh,” he piped, brows raised. “We’re on a single name basis now. That’s rare.”

F/n cast him a dark look and continued down the sidewalk to their car. You sighed, trying to relax and having little success; F/n was right, it was hard to remain calm with a hellion next door. “What do you need?”

Han Jisung shoved his hands in his pockets. “Need is a strong word. I need a lot of things. Food, water, air--”

A groan escaped your lips. “Fine. Forgive me. What do you want?”

“Hmmm…” He smirked, listing his head. “I want a lot of things, princess. Depends what you’re referring to.”

You’re pretty sure you could hear the gag coming from F/n’s car as they started the engine, shifting into reverse. Han chuckled, letting you know he heard it too.

“Alright, fine.” He held his hands up in surrender. “You caught me. I came to warn you.”

“Warn me about what?”

“......” He pursed his lips. “...I may have gotten a bit carried away and...well, I couldn’t resist, really. But I was thinking and, maybe it was in bad taste. Since Hyunjin did break your grandmother’s bird-thing.”

A rustling came from the bushes. “That wasn’t me! That was you!”

Han cringed, turning over his right shoulder. “Shhh!”

You faltered, zoning in on Han’s shrubbery. “Who is that? Is that Hyunjin hiding in your flowers?”

Han rolled his eyes, tossing...some junk from his pockets. A coin or something. “I told you not to say a word!” 

Blonde hair revealed itself from the viburnum bushes on Han’s property. “Cattywampus.”

“I SAID TO SHHH!”

Hyunjin scoffed. “Oh, so when we’re playing Scrabble, it’s not a word. But now that we’re probing Y/n for information, all of a sudden, it’s a word!” 

The air left your lungs, quite dramatically, and you took a step back farther into the safety of your porch. “...What is he talking about? What information?”

Tensions spiked like never before. Han simply groaned. “Dammit...thanks a lot, Hyunjin.” He turned to you with a sour face. “Yeah, okay, whatever, just...I wanted to know when your birthday was.”

He shrugged, trying to pull off the most innocent, blow-it-off look possible. You weren’t buying it. “What were you saying before? What did you do to my house?”

“Oh yeah,” He clasped his hands behind his back, sending another classic trademarked wink your way. Hyunjin freed himself from the viburnum flowers, along with Fox-face, who’d gotten himself tangled up in the next-door rose bush; he tripped over an illy placed hoolahoop and ran into Hyunjin, the two of them taking turns removing literal thorns from their sides. “I left you a present inside.”

I left you a present inside.

I left you a present inside.

He left you a present inside your house. A surprise. A bad one. You had invited him into your living space, your relaxation hub where relaxation was scarce, and gave him just enough alone time to leave something behind.

Something terrible. Something rotten.

Han Jisung was no longer looking like Han Jisung to you; what you saw before you was his true form: a plotting, overzealous, sadistic little impish demon of a man, no...a demon pretending to be a man. Someone like Han Jisung couldn’t possibly be human. There was no love at all in his heart.

“F/N!” You yelled, chasing after them as they drove down the street. “F/N, WAIT! STOP THE CAR! PLEASE!!!”

You could feel Han Jisung’s eyes as he trailed you all the way down Maple Street, his friends watching as F/n hit the brakes a hundred feet shy of the stop sign and let you clamber in the back. 

“Step on it.”

S/he nodded, slamming the accelerator and getting the two of you safely out of Dodge. “I’m going to a friend’s house. I have to return a few things I borrowed before Han Hellion ruins them,” They looked over their shoulder. “Where are you headed?”

Your eyes glared proudly through the rearview mirror. F/n drew back, nervously looking between you and the road unassured.

But there was nothing for it. They could yell and pitch a fit at you later. Today, this very moment, everything was going to end.

“The craft store,” you said. “And you’re coming with me.”

“What?”

“We’re taking our house back.”

“......”

The car rolled to a stop at the cross section of Water and Runway Boulevard. If it was the friend you were thinking of, F/n would have to make a right here. Your local craft store was the opposite direction.

With a unanimous nod through the rearview, the two of you made a left down Water Street.

-〤〤〤-

Hobby Lobby had to be your favorite store, next to Fye’s Music Records where you occasionally went for your music collection and your favorite restaurant. ...Though a store wasn’t really a restaurant, and vice-versa.

You and F/n scoured the many aisles of arts and crafts, decor and gifts, candles and knick-knacks, searching high and low for everything on a messy-scribbled list the two of you put together in the parking lot. Revenge was going to be so sweet. Total bliss.

“Buckets?” A young employee repeated back to you. “Yes, let’s see, they should be near the back of the store, on the right-hand side. If you pass the glitter and pipecleaners, you’ve gone too far. I believe they’re on Aisle 13.”

“Thanks,” F/n said, grabbing your wrist and dragging you behind them. They almost seemed more excited about this whole revenge-war than you did. “Aisle 10...Aisle 11...Aisle--”

S/he stopped, pale-stricken. “What is it?” You tried peering around the corner. “What’s wrong? Are they sold out or somethi--”

Your heart nearly stopped. There, in the middle of the aisle, stood Lee Felix, perusing a wide selection of glitter glue. A bucket (not a basket) hung from slack fingers, carrying a barrage of other craft equipment as well as a plastic bag from the Home Depot next door.

Some kind of rage was flooding through your system. You could sense it in F/n as well. The two of you were in sync, fed up with the Hellion Clan’s crazy antics and batsh*t ideas that only brought you pain and suffering. Enough was enough.

You practically shoved your friend aside. “LEE FELIX!”

Felix jumped, startled, frantic, eyes zooming in on you like a deer in headlights.

Then, unlike a deer in headlights, he ran.

“AFTER HIM!” F/n cried, shoving the list in their pocket. S/he ran farther towards the front of the store to block the entrance, while you followed in hot pursuit of the freckled boy’s trail.

Your phone buzzed as you ran, and without taking your eyes off your target you shuffled it out of your purse, slamming the receive button a little too hard. “What?!”

“He’s going towards the back of the store! He’s heading for the emergency exit!”

You gave a quizzical look toward your friend’s voice coming out of your phone, then back at your target’s backside. “What? How do you know that? Where are you?!”

“Look up. Aisle 1. Holiday crafts.”

Carefully your eyes scanned the tops of the shelves near the entrance, and after doing a double take on a statue you found F/n squatting among some Santa Claus and Christmas angels, a pair of high-grade binoculars in their mits.

You had no idea when they’d gotten those. “Where did you get those from?! How the heck did you get up there?”

“That’s not important right now! Just SEIZE HIM! He’s getting away, run faster!”

With an aggravated grunt you hung up, shoving your phone away and pushing your legs to hit the tile twice as hard. Some twenty feet in front of you Felix squeaked, making a surprise turn down Aisle 2 and knocking over a stack of decorative boxes. You cursed, calling forth your skills from high school gym to hurdle yourself over the monstrosity and skid to a temporary halt before barreling down the half-storage half-Christmas decor aisle. 

“He’s getting away!” F/n yelled. “Move!!!”

“Why don’t you help me?!” You called back. Felix made a 90 degree turn, charging farther back into the store in the opposite way you were anticipating; unless…  

A store manager suddenly appeared at the end of the aisle, holding her hand out to stop you. “Excuse me, I don’t think so; there’s no horseplay allowed in the store.”

Though she tried to grab you, you dodged like a badass, perrying right, then left, then spiraling after a mop of retreating orange hair down Aisle 7. “Can’t! Sorry! I’ll pay for this later!”

“I’m sorry?!”

“Hold that thought!”

The sound of static and muffled voices crackled behind you as the manager called for backup, but you didn’t care. This would all be over once the little coral pipsqueak was in your grasp; you’d make sure to make him sing everything that was going on.

“LEE FELIIIIIX!”

Somewhere on the opposite side Felix squealed, either running into something or barricading another path to ensure his freedom. You slid to another halt, straining your ears to pick up on the sound.

Maybe you could sneak up on him. You were getting pretty tired, and running all over the store wasn’t a very good strategy for either side. Tiptoeing down Aisle 6, buttons and sewing equipment, you held your breath, carefully peering down both directions of the aisle.

Empty, minus a mom and her kid. You dropped down on all fours, crawling to the next aisle-- except--

“Ow!” you hissed, pricking yourself on something sharp. It was a discarded sewing needle.

It gave you an idea. After sucking on the injury a moment, you snagged the discarded object, pinning it to the side of your bag. 

You hopped to your feet and gathered the strongest thread and yarn you could. After diving into a pile of fabrics when a few security guards walked by, you got back to work setting up your ingenious idea. A little thread here. Some fabric there. A weight right here…

You quickly sewed (loosely) a few strips of fabric together, finally finishing your creation. “Sorry, this aisle is closed right now,” you said to a few customers, spreading slime over each end of the hall. It was showtime. “I’m ready,” you told F/n, uttering the words through your phone.

F/n had done well to keep their disguise as an oddly-put Santa, peering through their binoculars when no one was looking. “Okay. I sort of lost him after the cops started lurking by here. Let’s see…”

Another curse left your lips. “He didn’t leave, did he?”

“No, I didn’t hear the doors open or close. He’s gotta still be here somewhere…..aha!” Their cry made you jump. “Found him!”

“Where?!”

“Opposite side. Aisle 18. He’s hiding around the picture frames.”

“Dang it,” you groaned, “I need him over here!” You looked around hesitantly. “Can you get him over to this side? I’m on Aisle 7. Additional Sewing and Craft Supplies. Fabrics, yarn, etc.”

“I’m scared to leave my post, but…” F/n sighed. “...I guess if you have a plan, I can chase him that way.”

“Great, okay. Hurry.”

“Roger.”

You hung up, taking another deep breath. Waiting. Ducking when the cops circled back around.

Suddenly, you heard a familiar battle cry from the other side of the store, followed by a man’s scream. The security guards and management started racing that way, but by the time they’d get there the source would be long gone…

Because he was headed straight for your trap. You scaled to the top of the aisle, keeping low with a blanket of fabric over your head as you watched Lee Felix weave in and out of craft stands and passing customers, buzzing toward Aisle 7 like a bee to a honey hive.

“RwARGH!” F/n cried, their Santa disguise flying with a full-powered shove. Felix went plunging for the nearest aisle, your aisle, and the moment his sneakers hit Elmer’s Color Slime Kit, he slipped, spinning out of control right into the giant DIY net you created. Yes! Score!

“HIYAH!” You screamed, jumping off the aisle shelf and tackling him. Gave over. You’d won. 

Felix squirmed and fought with all the strength he had left in him, his abs, his arms, his quads, but alas, twice his body weight from you and your friend combined was more than enough to stop him. He gave out with a long sigh just as an employee rounded the corner, crying for assistance.

You were out of time. Tying his hands behind his back and bundling the rest of the fabric around him, your friend threw a couple twenties from their pocket at the young man before the two of you slipped out the emergency exit.

“You’re going to tell us everything!” You demanded, carrying his torso. Felix scowled, rolling his eyes. Despite his obvious anger, he was sweating bullets and looked rather afraid. 

“I’m not telling you anything. You made me drop my stuff.”

“You can go back for it later. F/n, open the door.”

F/n shook their head, placing your captive’s feet down and unlocking the back of their car. “Nuh-uh. He’s riding back here.”

“In the trunk?!” The boy cried.

“In the trunk.”

F/n was dead serious. You stifled a laugh, even if it was kind of mean. Felix whined and bowed his head as the two of you placed him inside, F/n smacking a bow on his head that’d stuck to them during the chase.

“Okay. Let’s get out of here.”

The two of you slammed the door shut.

-〤〤〤-

The moment light hit your captive’s eyes, he squinted, groaning from the bumpy ride (as F/n insisted on hitting every speed bump and pothole). Lifting the boy on the count of three, he made sure to cry out for help- “HAN!!! HYUNJIN!!! JEONGIN!!! I’M OVER HERE!!!”- but, as it was expected, F/n simply dropped the boy on the driveway and threatened to stomp over a...delicate area...before smirking at his wide-eyed response and stuffing the bow in his mouth.

“Um, F/n…” You muttered, hoisting your prize up the porch steps, “don’t you think maybe you’re being too-”

“Don’t,” they warned, casting you a glare. “I’m not being too anything. These jerks deserve way worse.” They shifted Felix’s weight in order to allow you room to open the door. “Besides, it’s not like we’re gonna torture him or anything. Just ask a few questions.”

Felix gave a sigh of relief.

“...We can figure out what to do with him after that.”

...He took a sharp breath, beginning to sweat.

Inside the house the two of you tossed Felix onto the couch, running around the lower level to gather equipment before shifting him to a dining room chair. You were adjusting his bindings when the phone rang, F/n scampering off to answer it after sharing a look.

They smirked at the familiar caller I.D. “Y/n and F/n residence,” S/he answered in an overly-pleasant tone. “How may I help you?” Quickly they pulled the phone away, placing it down on speaker. The two of you, and Felix, glared at the voice coming out from the other side.

“We know you have him,” Han’s voice echoed throughout the living room. He sounded serious, demanding almost, sending a shiver down your spine. That was new. “What do you want?”

“Oh, what do we want?” F/n asked. They scoffed, peering out the blinds on the opposite side of the fireplace, just next to the kitchen. Directly at Han’s estate. “That’s something you don’t hear everyday.”

Han huffed, sounding disgusted. Suddenly, Felix erupted, spitting out the bow you’d forgotten to secure. “HAN! HAN I’M OKAY!!! BUT I LOST THE STUFF AT--”

Frantically you pounced, stuffing a fistful of Kleenex in his mouth. A chorus of anxious whispers filled the other line from Jisung and his goons, before Han silenced them and got back to business.

“Felix, if you can hear me, it’s okay. I need you to take one for the team right now until I come up with something.”

Ironically and unneeded, Felix nodded, as if Han could see him. You and F/n rolled your eyes. 

Suddenly, a loud splat! sent them squealing backwards. 

Your jaw dropped, watching rotten egg dribble and creep down your immaculately-just-cleaned window. Felix chuckled, falling on a sour note after you elbowed him. When two more assaults hit, you ducked for unnecessary cover behind Felix, F/n plastering themselves against the fireplace. 

“What do we do?!” you whispered, cringing every time an egg bomb made contact with the glass. What if by some crazy law of nature those things actually broke the window and leaked into the house?! It could take days to get the smell out. Heck, given that it was right next to the fireplace, and you had yet to test the installation of the seams...it’d likely start leaking into the house within the coming hours.

The pelts were slowly getting louder, rising in a horrifically drawn-out crescendo. “GIVE HIM BACK! GIVE HIM BACK!” you heard the goons chanting.

Were they on the roof?! You couldn’t bear this much longer. Your house was being eggified. Sullied. Disgraced. Finally cracking under the pressure, you flew some hand signals F/n’s direction that didn’t really mean anything and army-crawled to a yet-to-be-ambushed window, examining the battle situation outside before rolling back to your feet and sprinting for a backroom.

“Where are you going?!” F/n whispered harshly. S/he and Han bantered back and forth a bit, his demands of Felix’s release rattling the warfront before you returned with exactly what you’d been looking for: a megaphone. Ah, camp counselor days.

F/n saw what you were doing and instantly, wildly, vehemently shook their head no. But you were taking matters into your own hands now. 

“Han Jisung,” you stated, loudly enough so your voice could travel over the massive egg-pelting outside. “Hold your fire and I’ll bring Felix outside.”

You waited a few seconds, and the firing stopped. Han’s voice practically purred over the speaker. Very disgusting. “You’re starting to see things my way. That’s good.”

“Oh yes. I’m most certainly starting to see things your way.” The phone lifted between your fingers. “We’ll meet on the roofs in five minutes. If I hear or see one more egg on my property, the meeting is off.”

“......” There was an uncomfortable silence on the other line. 

You tilted your head. “Han Jisung? No deal?”

Felix whined a few feet behind you. Han sighed, clearly hearing it. “...Fine. We’ll meet you there.” Click.

You tossed the phone to F/n, who scarcely caught it, juggling it a few times on nervous butterfingers. “Alright, look,” s/he said, pacing across the room and slamming it down on the receiver. “I don’t know what kind of cockameme scheme you have planned, but…”

You smiled. “Don’t worry. I know what I’m doing.”

They sighed exasperatingly. “I’m sure you told yourself that when you let him into the house earlier, too.”

“......” You faltered, crossing your arms. “Touche. But this time, I really know what I’m doing.” With the utmost confidence and summoned strength you tilted Felix’s chair back, causing him to panic. “C’mon. Help me get this up through the attic.”

-〤〤〤-

Glitter glue. Hair dye. A bucket.

Truth be told, you actually did manage to go back and secure Felix’s belongings. It was around some point during the creation of the gigantic net at Hobby Lobby: F/n had seen them while running around, snagged it, and stashed the goods in the car without telling you. 

Now, you were going to use them against the enemy. If only you knew what the wrench from Home Depot was for… “Okay, listen up,” you stated, standing proudly on your roof. F/n stood at your side, Felix in between you two, still strapped to the dining room chair. Though the Kleenex were now gone, his pie hole remained shut...with Puffs. Not the good brand, F/n had said. “We have your friend, and as you can clearly see, he’s fine. We haven’t done anything to him.”

“Yet,” Hyunjin sneered, standing atop Han’s roof. He crossed his arms at Han’s right, Fox-face (Jeongin) on the left. “I fail to see how tying him up and stuffing his mouth shut equates to not doing anything.”

“Hyunjin, enough big words,” Han moaned. “We get it, you’re good at Scrabble, and you should have won. Lay off already.”

Hyunjin growled, making a face. From the opposing roof, you lowered your mic, extending your hand left. F/n glanced sideways, placing the box of hair dye in your hand. The situation on the other side swiftly grew stiff, everyone’s eyes watching you expectantly.

“Y-Y/n...what are you doing?”

It came out as more of a statement than a question. A fretful smirk played on the corner of your lips. “Oh my, what am I doing? …”

Yours fingers got right to work tearing open the packaging. Felix turned his head as far as his binding would let him, his eyes widening and brows sinking beneath his coral-colored bangs the moment he recognized the object...and the word permanent etched within a warning sign. “Mmm! Mm-mm mmm! MMM!”

“Wait, Y/n,” F/n said, reaching out. They suddenly looked hesitant, unsure. “We never questioned him first. Shouldn’t we…”

You paused, tossing the box and plastic wrap over your shoulder. With any luck, it’d blow into Han Jisung’s yard; if not, you could just pick it up later. “What, now you’re getting cold feet?” You huffed. “You’re the one that was getting carried away before. I thought you were sick of all this crap.”

“I am...I am. I’m just saying, maybe we should have pressed him for answers before running up here.”

“After they started egging our house?! What, was I supposed to wait for toilet paper to fly through the trees and spray paint to stain our front door?!”

“No, I’m just saying—”

“I’m done talking!” Your eyes narrowed, focusing on Han’s. He was staring right back at you, an intense look residing. “I want revenge. I want action. This ends today.”

You popped the cap off the bottle of murky green liquid, Hyunjin and Jeongin both seeming to lose their posture as the cap flipped through the air, bouncing to the ground below. They started to squirm, much to your delight; though perhaps a little overdramatic; but it was about time the other side felt the same pain and turmoil you had. It’d been far too long an unjust imbalance.

But Han held his hands at peace, calming his soldiers and taking a step forward; sending the imbalance back where it was, in his favor. He cupped his hands around that loud mouth of his. “Y/n!!! Listen to me, you don’t wanna do this! ...I-I don’t think, anyway!”

He seemed nervous. Flustered. You actually had Han Jisung, Hellion of 117 Maple Street, in a nervous fluster. 

The moment was sweet, rich, decadent and savory. In the air, a cool breeze blew by. 

“I’m sorry? What was that?” You lifted the bottle over Felix’s head. His whole body tensed, slightly leaning away like a magnet that didn’t attract. 

Han bit his lip, gaze flitting between your hand and the boy below. Behind him, Hyunjin and Jeongin watched with battered breath, biting their nails and covering the lower half of their faces. Han sighed, suddenly waving his hand behind him. “Jeongin, you shouldn’t see this. Cover your eyes. I don’t know if I can stop her.”

The boy frowned, shakily turning from Han’s voice back to you. “I-I can’t, Han...it’s too horrible, but I can’t look away.”

“Then get back inside. I’m sure Y/n will at least allow that much.”

Raising his brow at you in question, you carefully gave a single nod, watching the young fox-face go. Jeongin had never done anything to you, except for maybe participate in the egg-throwing debacle eight minutes ago. Otherwise, as far as you could tell, he was clean, just a bystander in Han’s antics.

As the roof door shut above Jeongin’s head, F/n gave you a worried look. “Y/n…” s/he said, turning to you sideways. “...Something’s not—”

“Shhh!” You spat. Your hand holding the bottle teetered towards a horizontal slant. “Not now. This makes things easier. One less groupie to worry about.”

“But Y/n—”

Felix could practically sense your movements, starting to squeal. “HAN! Please! I have an interview tomorrow and I don’t think they allow unnatural hair!!!”

F/n grunted, crossing their arms at being ignored. You listed your head to match the angle of the bottle. Revenge was so sweet. “Well, Han?”

It felt like an eternity went by. Everything was still, calm, the only noise to be heard the rustling of the trees. A distant clicking that was probably just the other neighbor’s cat. You felt like you were in a Shonen anime, where the characters face off for episodes at a time with nothing but empty heated stares and uselessly repeated banter (usually flashbacks).

“......” Han Jisung swallowed. “Okay, Y/n, stop.” He sighed. “...You win.”

A heaviness released from your chest. You...won? That was it? Was he really just surrendering right now? No surprise counterattack? No negotiations?

Instead, Han Jisung and his last remaining sidekick glared pitifully in your direction, like all hope had fleeted from their grasp. Meaning… 

You won. You actually won... 

The biggest smile took over the lower half of your face, so happy you could have cheered, overjoyedly so, kissing your friend’s cheek. You squealed in delight, tossing the bottle in the air and not really caring where it landed, so excited, so stoked, so—

“Ow!” a young man’s voice said.

Gasp. What was that?! That didn’t sound like Felix or...your friend...that was...wasn’t...

“Y/n!!!”

You whirled around, just in time to see Jeongin standing at the height of your roof, stuffing your friend down the ladder. He paused, similar to how Felix had in Hobby Lobby; that deer in the headlights look; and with terrified effort kicked F/n down the attic, hopping in and letting the door drop after him. 

Laughter could be heard bellowing along the wind, a hurricane billowing your direction. You whirled around, flabbergasted, horrified to see Han Jisung with that coy smirk on his face, that evil glint in his eye, the long-legged Hyunjin doing a memey sort of dance, as the two of them laughing it up at your expense. Even Felix, still bound to the chair, was…

...Well, actually, he looked rather annoyed and a little pissed. “HEY!” he griped, stamping his feet. “What happened to releasing me first?! I thought that was part of the plan!”

Plan…? …… 

“You mean…” You glared expressionless. “This was all setup...from the beginning? Even Hobby Lobby?”

“Duh,” Hyunjin piped, giving you an incredulous look. “We saw you and F/n heading that way, so I called Felix while Han coached Jeongin on the art of...sneaking onto other's property. We knew the two of you were probably at your breaking point, given how you were screaming all the way down the street…” He shrugged. “We figured you’d try to retaliate. It was too good to pass up.”

“......”

Anger wasn’t enough anymore. You were downright enraged, seething...and also, a bit heartbroken. A lot heartbroken. It was all planned. Your revenge was just another part of their game. They anticipated it, adjusted to it, even arranged it. It was all for not...and, what’s more…

Now they had F/n. The Fox-faced demon would be scampering out of your house and into the devil’s layer at any minute.

But he’d made a fatal mistake. You still had one of their own in your grasp.

With the utmost vexation and irritability you screamed, grabbing the bottle of hair dye from where it got caught between two shilling panels and tore the whole lid off, dumping the entire bottle into Felix’s hair. Han and Hyunjin froze in the middle of their victorious dance ritual to watch in horror as Felix screeched, trying to shake the substance out and make any feeble attempt he could to get away. You ripped open the glitter glue next, aiming it right at his scalp.

“Give F/n back right now or I’m adding glitter. Lots of it.”

“......”

Han Jisung and Hwang Hyunjin just continued to stare at you dumbfounded. Because they didn’t respond, you emptied the entire container, not caring if it seeped into the boy’s eyes as you dropped everything else for the attic door. 

“OH SH*T! MY EYES! MY FACE! YOU GUYS SUCK! AHH—”

The roof latch clicked behind you.

Flying down the ladder and around the hall you ran with all your might for the front door. Surprisingly enough, however, Jeongin was having a tough time getting there himself, wrestling with F/n for a position that allowed him to keep them quiet while having the freedom to move quickly. Unfortunately for him, F/n wasn’t going down without a fight.

“Let...go…! Get…off…...ahh! Y/n!!!”

They were wrestling at the end of the hall, just above the stairs. You pushed yourself harder, faster, ready to pulverize this kid you once found cute and adorable.

Something was off, though. You noticed as you got closer. The way they fought— it was almost too carefully, like they were trying to avoid hitting something.

You found out too little too late. F/n’s eyes widened. 

“Y/n, no, look out—!”

Fwoosh!

Your foot tripped over a wire, and the three of you went tumbling upwards.

You couldn’t believe you fell for the same trick twice.

-〤〤〤-

“Hold still,” Hyunjin groaned, clawing at Felix’s bindings. The boy practically refused, squirming with all his might.

“I’m holding still! I can’t see!”

“What does that have to do with being still?!”

Felix fumed.

Han Jisung made his way to the top of the ladder, rolling onto his back to catch his breath. It wasn’t like he wanted to drive Y/n to do this. Rather, he was just having a little fun, passing time, and essentially, getting to know her. 

She was the girl he thought about spending quite a bit of his life with, after all.

He turned his head sideways, taking in the view of the mountains, the small forestry area, the big city on the other side. Dang it, he knew Y/n’s roof had a better view of the area. “Both of you...quit whining...for a sec…”

He fought to catch his breath. Normally he thought himself to be in pretty good shape, but maybe eating a whole cheesecake and slacking off last week for that Netflix marathon put him back a few steps. Diagonally above him, Hyunjin sighed, removing the last of Felix’s restraints. “Okay, there. You’re free now.”

Felix stood, immediately rubbing his shirt over his face and stretching his arms out wide, then his legs. He looked around. 

“Something wrong?” Hyun asked. Felix began to sweat, visible from a mile away.

“Oh, gosh, you guys. I still can’t see. I think I’m legally blonde.”

“......” Hyunjin blinked. “You mean legally blind? Legally Blonde is a movie.” He glanced up at his sparkling dishwater-green hair. “Also, your hair’s green now. An ugly green. And shiny. Too shiny—”

“Both of you shhh,” Han griped, sitting up sideways. He pushed himself up all the way, stumbling diagonally as he hiked up toward the other side of the roof. “Has Jeongin come out yet? Where’s Y/n?”

“I don’t know,” Felix spoke, swatting at his surroundings. “I can’t see anything.”

“He obviously wasn’t talking to you,” Hyunjin piped. He leaned over the edge, examining the front porch, then the lawn. “...I don’t know either. I didn’t hear the front door but, then again, I couldn’t hear anything with Whines-A-Lot back here blubbering so loud.”

“Why are you in such a bad mood today? Normally you’re really sweet and chill. And why is everyone attacking me all of a sudden?! I’m the one that agreed to be the bait of this operation! Me!”

“Okay, okay,” Han waved his hands. He really hated being the responsible one, but with these two at each other's throats and Jeongin nowhere to be found, he really had no other choice. “Felix, go inside and see if you can find Jeongin. Or Y/n. Anyone.”

Felix scoffed, throwing his hands in the air like a tossed salad. “Oh, yeah. Send the blind guy in. That plan always works. Makes total sense!”

“Oh, right...uhh, Hyunjin?”

Hyunjin scrunched up his face. “No way. I’m not going in there. Breaking and entering is not going on my personal record. Pranks are fine, but I’m not violating the law. That’s your department, Mr. Fifteen-Unpaid-Speeding-Tickets.”

“......” Groaning, Han made his way to the top of the roof, kneeling just short of the peak to pull the lever. However, the door wouldn’t budge. “...It’s locked.”

“Locked?”

“Yeah, that’s what I said. Locked.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Shoot, why would she stop to lock the door? Now wh—”

“HAN JISUNG!!!”

All three college boys froze. Crouching, they whipped their heads around wildly. Even Felix. “What was that?!” He asked. “Was that Y/n?!”

“HAN!!!” Another called. Smaller, lighter, yet contradictingly more masculine. Hyunjin gasped. 

“That sounded like Jeongin!”

Then, suddenly, all three missing voices meshed together, the chorus dark and booming: “LET US OUT! LET US OUT LET US OUT LET US OUT!!!”

Hyunjin jumped to his feet, kicking and pounding at the door. “Quick, open the door! We have to rescue Jeongin!”

Han’s jaw fell a little. “What about Y/n?”

“What about her?!” He grunted, hitting the door harder. “Jeongin is our first priority!”

“I thought you didn’t like breaking and entering,” Felix sneered from the back, still waving at the air like a recently-blind person would. His elder tsked, scowling.

“It’s not breaking and entering if someone’s life is in danger! Han, what the hell kind of trap did you put in there?!”

Han blinked, trying to process. Everything had gone South so quickly, curved in a direction he wasn’t expecting— he couldn’t think. His mind drew up blanks. Never in his thirteen years of pranking history had he ever not been in control of his own crafty work. 

Now his work was playing a joke on him. “Han! Hello?! Earth to Jisung?”

“...I…”

“What did you do in there?!”

“......” He swallowed, barely regaining his composure. “I set up another net. Just a quick one, like the one from earlier today.”

“What?!” Hyunjin roared. “But that took me all morning! How did you do it in five minutes?!”

“I didn’t,” he replied. “I did it in four.”

Hyunjin deadpanned, smacking a hand over his face. “‘Kay…how did you manage to pull that off?”

His superior in the art of mischief fell back on his behind, staring out seamlessly at nothing in particular. Obnoxiously calm for the circumstances. “I’ve been sneaking into her house every now and then when she left the back door open. I’d set up a small part here, or a spring wire there, just small stuff out of the way that no one’d notice. They’ve hardly been home with midterms going around.”

“......” Hyunjin shook his head in disbelief. “Han, there’s no way they wouldn’t notice or not accidentally set something like that off until now.”

Han turned back to him in earnest. “I just set the final wire down this afternoon. The activation one. One of them— probably Y/n— tripped over it.”

“...If that’s true, then…”

Another sonorous from down below reached the canopies above: “LET US OUT!!!”

Hyunjin dropped back on all fours. “LET US IN!!!” he cried, pounding on the hardwood door. “Jeongin, buddy, it’s going to be oka—”

“Come on!” Han said, leaping to his feet. He grabbed Felix by the wrist, tugging the two along behind him before making a crash landing for the bushes. No time to waste now. He needed to get his act together, take a leap of faith that, maybe, if he played his cards right, Y/n could see him in a whole new light.

It would be a long shot. If he remembered to jump from the right spot, anyway. “AAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!” Both boys screamed, clinging to each other’s sides. They hit the shrubs, bouncing forward and rolling into Y/n’s front yard.

“...Was that a trampoline???” Felix asked. Han scoffed, shoving the two off of him.

“I planted an emergency escape device in her bushes last week, just in case.” He dusted himself off, screwing his head on straight while jogging to the front porch. “What do I look like, stupid or something?” 

“......” Hyunjin watched him cross to the front door, lying upside down. “Do you want us to answer that?”

“...No.” 

Han rang the doorbell. Stamped his foot. Remembered all house guests and tenants were currently tied up at the moment, slapped himself, panicked. He banged his fist against the door. 

“Y/n?! It’s okay! Daddy’s going to fix this!”

Hyunjin made a noise (he was full of noises), tromping up the steps while Felix rolled himself around in the yard, trying to figure out which way was up and what he should do with himself. “Did you just call yourself—”

“Yes, now shut up.” Han dug around in his pocket, pulling out a key. “Heh heh heh…” 

He jimmied the lock, twisting and turning the key this way and that. But the door wouldn’t budge, not even an inch.

“Sh*t!” He grabbed his hair. “Why isn’t this working?! I made copies of her keys three weeks ago!”

Hyunjin glared sideways. “You changed out her locks two weeks ago.” 

Shoot, that was right. Han kicked the door, fuming. “Dang it! ...Ow!” 

He was spent. Gone. Energy depleting. And now, his foot hurt. Spinning around he banged his head against the door, sliding down to sulk on his backside. 

He hadn’t meant for things to go awry. He’d just wanted to mess with Y/n, see what made her tick, have some fun. Find out what she liked, what she didn’t like, maybe get up the nerve to ask her what she was doing for dinner next Saturday so he could mess with the food at her favorite restaurant and force her to come to a candle-lit dinner in his backyard instead, where he’d have her second-favorite takeout waiting on plates of gold he’d “borrowed” from Hyunjin’s aunt.

If only things would have worked out that way. “LET US OUT LET US OUT LET US OUT!!!” the house called.

Hyun and Han shared a pitiful look, plastering themselves to the walls and door. They had no choice. There was nothing left. “LET US IN LET US IN LET US IN!!!”

“HAN JISU— …” 

Quiet. That was strange. What was it quiet?! What happened?! What could have—

...Oh no. What if…!

“DON’T HURT JEONGIN!” Han screamed, pressing his nose to the glass. “PLEASE! Y/N F/N PLEASE HYUNJIN WILL KILL ME IF SOMETHING HAPPENS TO HIM!!!”

“WHAT?!” Hyunjin yelled, pressing against the glass as well. “Move over, I can’t see! WHAT ARE YOU FIENDISH PEOPLE DOING TO HIM?!”

There was no response. Han began sweating profusely, feeling his heart ready to burst in a bad way. This was it. It was over. He’d have to call the cops to have them released, and then Han would probably go to jail for twenty-seven misdemeanors and a couple felony charges. Not to mention those unpaid speeding tickets.

Chink. Clunk. Creek.

A force against him gave way, the front door magically opening. As Han and Hyunjin fell forward, a blind, sparkling, green-haired man smiled down at them, standing at the other side.

-〤〤〤-

The clamouring coming from your front door set you on edge, wiggling and slashing at the ties that bound you. And F/n. And Jeongin.

The three of you piled on top of each other in an awkward heap, you being fortunate enough to have flipped on top. “Ow! Y/n, get your foot out of my eye!” F/n cried.

Apologetically, you shifted your weight, trying to give them room in the small net. Jeongin huffed as you did, making the most cumberous and uncomfortable face as you shifted your bottom over his backside, close to his head. “This is your fault for sneaking in here and trying to kidnap F/n,” you scolded, only feeling a little sorry given the circumstances.

He blushed, perplexingly so, carefully trying to claw his way to a corner that didn’t exist. “I, um...I’m sorry…”

Like that was enough to get the three of you out of this arrangement. Rolling your eyes, you focused your attention on the front door you could just barely see, tuning your ears to adjust and pick up on anything.

“What are they saying?” F/n asked. You shrugged, huffing and puffing disorderly.

“I don’t know. I can barely hear anything. They’re whispering. They keep looking over here, though.”

“Who opened the door?! How did they get in here???”

F/n was currently squished with their head facing the opposite direction, explaining their heighted insecurity and naggingness. You sighed, squinting and rocking your weight in order to make the small flexible cage sway to better see around the corner. “I think...Felix let them in. He must have used the back door or something.”

“Son of a b*tch, Y/n!!!” F/n quietly fumed. “This is why I always tell you to make sure both doors are locked! You never think to check the back door and it drives me crazy!!!”

“I know, I know okay?! Calm down! You’re gonna draw attention!”

“HAN!!!” Jeongin suddenly screamed. “FELIX! GET ME OUT OF THIS THING!!!”

Both you and F/n panicked. “SHHHHHHHH!!!”

He regarded the two of you like you were crazy. “Just five minutes ago you were screaming too!”

F/n hissed. “Yeah, well that was five minutes ago, and this is now!”

Jeongin sighed. “Listen, this is really uncomfortable for me, especially because you’re sitting...entirely too close to me,” he spoke, “so how about I make a deal with you two?”

“No way. I don’t make deals with demons. Or vipers, or monsters, or Fox-faced devils that sneak into our house and try to kidnap me!!!”

Jeongin sighed again, letting out a slight hiss of annoyance at the end. At the base of the stairs, Han and Hyunjin started making their ascent, Felix stumbling around a bit with a bandana now over his eyes before following after them.

“Oh shoot,” you whispered. “Here they come.”

Making his way around the net once, Han paused right square before you; and there it was, that evil flirtatious wink, tongue sweeping over his lips scarcely so. “S’up, gorgeous?”

Shoot me. I want to die.

Han poked your nose, making a little annoying sound effect and laughing when you teetered backwards, swatting away at the germs he left on your face. “Aww, I think someone doesn’t like their situation very much.”

“Lay off. Get us out of this stupid thing and then get the hell out. If you don’t, I’m calling the cops.”

Han chuckled and slapped his leg like you were just the cutest little thing to him. “Oh, alright, calm down princess. You’re just sour over falling for the same trick twice.”

It burned you how much truth there was to those words. You would have spit at him if F/n wasn’t at risk of being in the line of fire. “Just shut up and get us out of here. Take your friend with you.”

Tangled up behind you, Jeongin sputtered; you could feel him roll his eyes. “Gladly,” he muttered.

After admiring your pissed-off look for a few seconds, and Han taking a few selfies for his own selfish gain, Han and Hyunjin got right to work, snipping wires here, tugging at rope there. Eventually, after a few moments of unblissful trepidation and embarrassment, the net lowered gently, falling lifelessly about a foot above ground. 

The three of you groaned, F/n having the wind knocked out of them for a second. Scampering and shoving off of each other, you turned away the moment you found your legs, brushing yourself off and walking down the hall a few paces. Your feet prickled with numbness, then faded and blood rushed through. 

When you turned around to check on F/n and kick everyone else out, Han Jisung had already found his way to your face. “Hey there, gorgeous. All better?”

You scowled most irately, placing your hands on his chest to push him off and startling yourself when he wouldn’t budge, and your hands just...stayed there. “Get out of here. You got us out, now you’re no longer welcome.”

“Oh, was that all you needed from me?” He smiled. Almost tenderly. Or maybe it was, you didn’t know. “I’m hurt, Y/n. I thought maybe we could...talk more. Get to know one another.”

“What?!” You tried to see around him, but he mirrored your every step and movement. When you pulled your hands away, he latched onto your wrists, placing them back. His fingers smoothed over the backs of your hands, intertwining with yours. You gulped, a feeling in your gut exploding.

“This is nice,” he said softly, giving your hands a gentle squeeze. “Isn’t it?”

It most certainly was not nice. Not nice at all! ...Yet, you were having quite a bit of trouble telling him that. His hands were so soft and...rigid...even the small calluses that sprouted along his palms and outline were somehow oddly alluring, inviting you to stay. 

You shivered, bristling all over. No, no. Get ahold of yourself Y/n. This can’t happen. I can’t go down like this. 

Shaking your head you shoved yourself back instead, running two steps to the right...and slamming gently into the adjacent wall. Gently. Softly. Softly slamming.

What the hell, why was everything with Han Jisung so soft all of a sudden?! You bore your eyes up at him, seeing as he was now just...inches away from you...again...g-getting closer…

His nose brushed right up against yours. A breath caught in your throat, begging to scream. Everything else in your body was. He had slithered himself to press up against you.

You’re pretty sure, even if you couldn’t feel it, your face was the darkest shade of red right now. Han undoubtedly noticed too, simpering just a fraction from your lips. “What should we do now, princess? Should we…” He inched your waist forward. “...go next door?”

Next door. Next door, where the hellhole of disasters had started. 

...Something about that line just didn’t sit right with you. Feeling as if the whole moment had been ruined (and good gravy you had to get out of this), you shimmied yourself a bit of wiggle room and shot your knee skyward, wincing as a howl of pain rang out in your ear. You kicked Han back, making a run for F/n…

...Who was again, gone. Everyone was gone.

Turning around, Han gave you a childish salute, that flirtatious wink following him all the way out the front door. You couldn’t do anything. Just observe him leave in shock.

Until you heard a thump from downstairs, and raced to find Felix feeling his way around the kitchen. 

“Now, I know there’s a backdoor somewhere...it was in here when I came in…”

You bore your eyes into him. Smirked.

Five minutes later, his whines echoed all through the house and down the porch steps.

-〤〤〤-

It may not have been high noon, but that didn’t stop Hyunjin and Fox-face Jeongin from turning on an old western showdown score. 

You stood on your side of the property line, Felix rebound though now standing at your side. If he was miffed about his hair and the overzealous glitter drawing attention to it, he didn’t say anything. Possibly because being temporarily blind was pulling all his attention away.

On the other side, about ten or twelve meters from the line, stood Han Jisung, in all his hellion, dark-profiled glory. F/n was bound and gagged beside him, looking like a tick about to pop. You’d never seen that vein before, throbbing above their forehead. Hyunjin and Jeongin observed from afar, amongst the safety of shade and porch railing.

You lifted the megaphone you’d brought back with you from the roof. “On the count of three,” you instructed, gripping Felix’s sleeve tight. 

Han Jisung cackled, or his eyes did anyway, a sparkle of humor at play. “Alright. Hostage exchange on three.”

“Okay…”

You both paced exactly twenty-something steps until you were only two feet from the line.

“One…”

“Two…”

“...Thre—”

“Wait.”

Your mind did a little flip, attention spiraling upward. “What?”

The hellion next door smirked. “I have one condition.”

“Oh?” You sputtered. “So do I.”

“Ladies first.”

You deadpanned. “Stop intervening and disturbing my life and F/n’s sanity and I won’t call the cops.”

He laughed, a very hearty, joyful sound. It sort of...made your heart spin. “That’s fair. I can agree to those terms...if you agree to mine.” You scoffed.

“And what would that be?”

Han Jisung smiled. Brighter than the sun. For once, it was almost as if he was revealing a side of his persona to you he’d kept locked away all this time; he suddenly appeared to be genuine, sincere, and oh-so benevolent. Not to mention handsome. “Go on a date with me. Saturday, at five.”

“What?!”

The world came to a crash. Everything just seemed to stop, the birds even dropping like flies to gawk at the enigma that was Han Jisung. Behind him and to the left, Jeongin and Hyunjin stared at each other in bewilderment. Felix muttered some kind of disbelief beneath his breath. F/n looked like s/he really would pop.

“Mmm?!” They shrieked. Han chuckled, ruffling his hair away from his face and casting squinted eyes out over the neighborhood. 

“Yeah, uh...I’ll pick you up at five, if you like. I mean, you have to, because this is a condition. My deal. Where we’re going is a surprise, but I can give you a hint.” He leaned forward, twitching his nose a bit. “There’s a lot of action going on in the color department, and it usually gives me an allergy attack. But, I figured you may enjoy watching my face fall apart.”

“.........”

Slowly, you adjusted your gaze over to F/n. They were shaking their head wildly, though limitedly, so as not to tip off anyone. 

“.........” You turned your face back to Han Jisung. “...Make it five-thirty. I have an errand to run that day.”

He bit his lower lip to keep from smiling too much. “Deal. Okay, on three. One…”

“Two…”

“Three.”

You each pushed your captives over at the same time, Felix and F/n stumbling forward over the property line. Hyunjin and Jeongin raced down into the lawn while you quickly got to work untying and freeing your housemate. 

S/he turned and looked to you with the utmost confusion and disappointment in their eyes. You smiled, sadly, and turning away watched as three of the four boys embraced and spat at each other, Hyunjin and Jeongin poking and teasing Felix about his hair, and Han Jisung watching you back with stars in his eyes. Once a hellion, it was as if a great fog had lifted over the valley, and now you could see he was both day and night. A myriad of sunlight, and a mischievous moon.

“You’re not really going on a date with him,” F/n scolded, walking in sync with you up the porch steps and in through the front door. You waited until they were safely inside and halfway to the kitchen for another drink, waving and even winking in Han Jisung’s direction. It caught him off guard, and you snickered at his confused stare. 

“We’ll see,” is all you said, shutting the door behind you.

-〤〤〤-

Saturday, 5:25 p.m.

Your house mysteriously felt like the Island of the Lost.

“F/n! Have you seen my hairbrush?!”

Running back and forth in front of the TV, up and down the stairs, rummaging through both bathrooms, F/n sighed, annoyed at having their early-evening talk show interrupted. They set the TV on mute. “What are you looking for? Your hairbrush?”

You nodded, heading back towards the upstairs bath. F/n jumped up from a commercial break, following you.

“How did you manage to lose your hairbrush? Sheesh, Y/n, you’ve been forgetful all day.”

You turned toward the mirror, staring worrisome eyes at the curlers in your hair, the sloppily-applied two minute makeup job on your face. F/n noticed as well, giving a small pout as s/he crossed their arms, leaning against the doorframe. “Where are you going, anyway?”

Uh-oh. “Hmm...?”

You pretended not to hear that. F/n blinked, their face falling to an unimpressed state. “I asked, where are you going?”

“......”

“......”

Downstairs, the doorbell rang. Crap. It wasn’t five-thirty yet!

F/n turned toward the sound, their brows lifting in minor surprise. “Who could that be? Are you expecting a package or anything?”

They began wandering in the direction of the staircase, but you cringed, throwing yourself as a blockade. “Ahahahahahahaha! …” Sweat. “...I-I’ll get it. You should get back to your show!”

F/n gasped, pushing past you and gracefully making a sharp left just a few feet from the door. Phew. 

You peered around the corner, trying to make out the silhouette through the foggy glass. 

Tall-ish. A bit on the short side. Skinny? Seemingly masculine.

It had to be him. Panic struck you like a bat out of hell, scrambling to the bathroom and ripping the curlers out of your hair. You fought through three bottles of creams and mascara while juggling your toothbrush hanging out of your mouth, rinsing, spitting, and finally flipping your hair down, shaking it loose and flipping back over.

Oh yeah. Messy-chic look. Perfect. With a touch of gloss (or lipstick) you smoothed out your casual-dressy outfit before skipping downstairs and slipping on your favorite dress shoes at the door, purse slung over your bodice.

This was it. You discreetly shifted your eyes to the left. F/n was still inthralld in their talk show. Now was your chance for a clean getaway without any awkward accusations or encounters.

Taking a deep, measured breath, you gingerly opened the door, blowing it out on the exhale. Han Jisung stood in all his new-lighted glory, his back turned to you as he examined the neighborhood, waiting.

You gave a small cough, stepping out and locking up behind you. Han turned around, his eyes widening when he saw you. “Whoa...uh…”

“Yes?” Your gaze traveled down to the flowers in his hand. “Are those for me, or an apology to F/n?”

You both laughed, Han thrusting them forward a bit forcefully. An awkward color painted a ring around his face, across his ears and along the curves of his cheeks. “Uh, b-both, I guess. ...But, mainly for you.”

He was nervous. For real this time. You smiled, taking the small bouquet and burying your face into the petals. You inhaled deeply. “...Mmm...they smell really nice!”

You beamed. For maybe five seconds. After that, a spout of water soaked your forehead.

Han Jisung pressed his lips together, trying his darndest not to laugh. His eyes avoided you entirely, observing everything but your face. A moment later, he bolted, signalling for his groupies to turn on the sprinklers. Coffee rained down on both of your lawns, dyeing both sides murky Vanilla Latte.

You chased him down the porch steps, through the caffeinated shower, laughing.

-〤〤〤-

“...And that about wraps up our show for today!”

F/n flipped the TV off, turning their gaze to the window. Is it raining already?

As they approached the window, their jaw fell. They opened the window. “Y/N!!! HAN JISUNG!!!”

...It was no use.

Pulling up a chair, they fell to their knees, observing the bizarre weather in a moment of acceptance. They extended their mug over the windowsill, sighing as the caffeinated shower refilled their morning latte.

ღ Stray Kids M.List | M.List ღ

[biffhofosho]

Jinx!

Fandom: Monsta X

Genre: Smut, natch.

Word Count: 6.5k

Pairing: Jooheon x OC

Trope: Best friends to lovers

Synopsis: Lex and Jooheon have been best friends for most of their lives. There’s nothing they haven’t done together. Except take a shower... 

The Vibe: Best friends through and through, silly antics, college shenanigans, tattooed OC, heartbreaker Jooheon who just wants constant love and attention, one thing leads to another, next thing they know they’re in the shower, secrets revealed, things get intense quickly, confused feelings, long-story love story, handsy Honey is best Honey, feelings boil over through sex, possessiveness, awkward after moments, happy ending.

“It’s the last one!” Lex cried as she yanked on the soda can clenched in Jooheon’s iron fist. “Haven’t you ever heard of chivalry?”

“Haven’t you ever heard chivalry is dead?” he volleyed as he jerked it back to him.

“Jooheon! Come on, I’m thirsty.”

“There’s water in the tap.”

Lex pouted her lower lip, but she knew she was no rival for his pout and so did he. She had to settle for sass instead. “I’m your best friend, you dope.”

“Yeah, but you’re not my girlfriend. I’m not obligated to give it to you.”

Suddenly, their joined hands sagged as they both shouted, “That’s what he said!”

“Jinx!” they raced to say first, but Lex edged him out by a second, and she beamed.

“What a coincidence. You owe me a Coke.”

Jooheon whined and reluctantly handed over the can to the triumphant blonde at the end of his couch. She tucked her legs under her as she pumped her fist, can in victorious hand, and thumbed his fat bottom lip.

“Oh, cheer up, sore loser. Of course, I’m going to share with you. ‘That’s what friends are for…’” she belted in her flattest alto.

He perked up immediately and leaned in, waiting for his first swig, but as Lex popped the cap, cola blasted everything in a five-foot radius. They squealed and flailed as she dropped the can and it sputtered wildly on the couch. Lex grabbed a pillow as a shield, but by the time she cowered behind it, the pressure had fizzled and the damage was done.

The room went silent except for the last death gurgle from the can and the tragic plip-plops of cola puddling on the floor.

Jooheon found Lex’s gray eyes peeping over the edge of the pillow, and their stunned blinking synchronized. His mouth hung open, flat soda dripping from his ebony bangs onto his lips. She was even more soaked, having bore the brunt of ground zero. Her now miserable pixie cut was shellacked to her face as her t-shirt was to her body.

“You…” Jooheon said with narrow eyes.

“Me? If you’d just given me the damn can when I asked for it, this would never have happened.”

“You’re cleaning this up!”

“I’m not in this alone, buddy. It takes two to—to—shake a soda!”

Their high-noon stare-down ended a moment later in a fit of cackling as they surveyed the breadth of the damage. Not only was the couch now a Jackson Pollack painting, but so were the walls, floors, and his poor cats’ condo tower. From the windowsill in the kitchen, Yoshi and Gucci were more than happy to showcase their disdain for the lowly humans sullying their home.

Jooheon waved to his kitties and apologized before returning his attention to his friend. With a purse of his lips, he said flatly, “Fuck.”

“Yeah, fuck.” Lex sighed and hung her arms out to the side to dry. “What am I gonna do? I can’t bike home like this. I’m already getting tacky.”

“You were always tacky,” he reminded, and she lobbed the sopping pillow at him.

“You’re one to talk, J. You wore a lavender suit to prom.”

Jooheon rolled his eyes and tossed the pillow back to her with a wet thump. “That was four years ago, and it was to match your dress.”

“You’re not supposed to match your date’s dress exactly! Buy a fucking boutonniere, jesus. What, are you going to wear white to your wedding, too?”

“If I look good in it, hell yeah.”

Lex almost ran a hand over her face but stopped as soon as her palm stuck to her forehead. “Why am I arguing about this with you? I’m literally turning into the Tin Man over here. Let me use your shower.”

“Sure,” he said as he peeled off his vintage Guns ‘n Roses concert tee and tossed it into a corner by the laundry closet, “after I’m done with mine.”

She gaped at him. “Come on! You owe me after the soda bomb.”

Jooheon shrugged, one perfect dimple piercing his round cheek. “Technically, it was your fault since it would have been fine if you’d just let me drink it. You’re the one who wanted to wrestle over it.”

“You know how I hate being sticky, J. I’m dying here,” Lex complained, trying to channel her inner Jooheon for a more pathetic pout. Either it worked or her bedraggled state actually cooled her best friend’s fiery spirit because he held out a wet hand.

“I’m not budging on this,” he said as he pulled her up, “but I’m not totally unreasonable. Just jump in with me.”

Lex blanched. “I’m not showering with you.”

“Why not? What’s the big deal? Just leave your underwear on. I’ve seen you in a bikini literally hundreds of times. And I’ll shower with mine on, too. Even-steven.”

She watched him warily as he unbuttoned his jeans and shimmied the damp fabric down his thighs. He was right—they’d seen each other mostly naked more times than she could count over the years. She’d even camped out in his bed in a tee and undies after many a campus rager without a problem. This really shouldn’t be any different.

But there was something she couldn’t quite put a finger on.

Lex furrowed her brow and said, “Yeah, but you get to step out in all new clothes. Mine are still gonna be wet.”

“You can wear mine. Hell, half your closet is my old shirts you never bring back anyway.”

Jooheon always had an answer.

“I don’t know…” she hedged.

Now stripped to his black boxer briefs, he shrugged again. “Fine, then wait your turn like a good girl.”

She scowled. “You know I’ve never been a good girl in my whole life.”

“Then what are you worried about?”

What was she worried about? This was Jooheon, her best friend since sixth grade when he’d shoved down Nitesh Patil for saying she was flat-chested. Since then, they’d been through everything together—what was one quick shower?

“You suck so bad,” Lex griped as she yanked the hem of her black tee. “Just for that, I call dibs on your ThunderCats shirt.”

“I don’t care as long as you bring that one back,” he said over his shoulder as he headed into the bathroom to start the water.

Lex stripped down to her bra and underwear and spent one last minute to weigh her options. She could just wait him out. He was a guy; he wouldn’t be in there forever. Except Jooheon wasn’t just any guy—he was her best friend and worst enemy. The man lived to tease her. If she didn’t show up, he would waste every last drop of hot water before he’d let her in, and maybe the only thing worse than being sticky was rinsing off that stickiness in an ice bath.

Decision finalized, Lex headed into the invigorating steam already funneling over the shower curtain.

“Close the door!” he barked. “You’re letting in the cold.”

“Bossy,” she replied as she shut the bathroom door.

Lex wasn’t a shy or even particularly inhibited girl. She’d fooled around with a number of guys and even a couple girls, and she had always been excited to show off her body. She worked hard for it as a bicycle courier, and yeah, her tits were small, but they were cute, and her thighs were thick, but they were strong. Still, it took a surprising amount of courage to pull back the curtain and step into the steam.

Jooheon was already hogging the showerhead. His fair skin tinged pink as the hot water sluiced over his shoulders and down his lean back.

“Feels good,” he hummed.

“You’re going to have to share, you know,” Lex reminded, though for some reason she was much more hesitant to manhandle him out of the way than usual.

“My shower, my rules. I’ll give it to you when I’m ready.”

“That’s what she said,” she teased, but the joke fell flat at their feet the moment Jooheon turned to face her.

No matter what he had said, this was nothing like swimsuits at the pool. Boxer briefs did not adhere the same way to his body as swim trunks. In a flash, Lex saw more of her best friend than she ever had in over a decade of friendship. Over those years, she hadn’t really thought much about the shape and size of her best friend’s dick, but there was no avoiding it now.

It was all she could think about. And she didn’t hate it.

As best as she could remember, she had only ever thought of him as something other than friends once. They had gone to prom together as a gag—at least that’s what they told everybody. Truth was, no one had wanted to ask the girl with the strung-out Shirley Manson bob and music taste a decade out of fashion, and it sucked. But Jooheon had saved the day as he always did with an obnoxious, over-the-top promposal like all the other girls expected. At the end of the night, he’d dropped her off in his beater Camry, and she never knew why—maybe it was part of the whole prom gag or, hell, it could have even been gratitude—but Lex had leaned over the center console and kissed him. He’d pulled away, and, red-cheeked and speechless, they said their goodnights and never spoke about it again. Seemed like they both knew it wasn’t who they were.

So who the fuck were they now?

“Hey, J?” she said at last.

“Yeah?” he replied as he looked up from the shampoo he was pouring into his hand.

Lex pulled her arms tighter over her chest. Man, this was a Titanically bad idea. Why the fuck had she let him goad her into this?

“Shove over. I’m cold.”

He huffed but scooted past her on an awkward shuffle around the tub. It was too small, and there was no way to avoid each other in here. His body grazed hers, and they fought to look anywhere else (who knew a wet washcloth could be so interesting…).

Lex busied herself with the welcome distraction of hot water melting dried corn syrup from her elbows and neck. She embraced her aquatic retreat, arms still tight against her chest, as she trusted the water to wash away the outline of her best friend’s cock from her stubborn brain. Maybe it was even working—until he cleared his throat.

When she opened her eyes, running her hands back through her hair to clear the last of the water, Jooheon was waiting for her, an awkward pinch to his dark brows. His eyes were darker than she remembered them.

“You all right?” she asked.

He was looking at that very interesting washcloth now, too, but he said, “You got a new tattoo? You didn’t tell me.”

At least his pout was familiar in here, the steam even amplifying his wounded tone.

“If I’d told you, you would have wanted to see it. Figured that might not be the best of ideas.”

Lex glanced down to the little flock of black swallows flying across her ribs under the hill of her breast.

“There’s one for my parents and my grandmas, and, look, there’s one for you.” She tapped the one at the back and grinned. “See? His mouth’s always wide open, just like yours.”

Jooheon’s finger wavered an inch from her breast before he jerked it back and cleared his throat.

“Very funny, Vetrova. You still should have told me.”

She rolled her eyes as she turned her back to him and shampooed her hair. “I don’t know what you’re getting so worked up about. You weren’t there for half of my other tattoos.”

“It’s just—” She heard him fumbling with the soap as he hesitated. “I wonder what other secrets you have.”

“Oh god, it’s not a secret. It’s just something I didn’t bother to tell you,” Lex said tersely as she turned around to find a well-lathered Jooheon.

He looked so fresh and inviting, and the stupidest idea of sliding herself against his sinewy body fluttered across her mind. Beckoning fingers of citrus and cedar coiled on plumes of steam as one particularly silky trail of bubbles slithered down his flat abdomen toward the one place Lex refused to let her eyes wander again.

It helped to remind herself of just the kind of man Jooheon was: charismatic trouble. She closed her eyes and rinsed her hair as she added, “You didn’t hear me bitching when Becca Moody told me you two messed around last week. Conveniently slipped your mind, too, see? Soap, please.”

He didn’t say anything.

Lex opened her eyes and found him still staring at the little birds. “Hello?”

Nothing but the thrum of water.

“Jooheon!”

At last, his eyes snapped up to hers. His cheeks were red, though that was probably from the steam. The water was too hot. It was like a sauna in here. They needed to hurry and get out.

Lex reached out her hand to grab the soap from him and she realized her three mistakes immediately:

1.      She should never have gotten in the shower with him.

2.      White cotton was not a satisfactory lingerie for a shower with her best friend.

3.      She should never have moved her arms from her chest.

Her rouged nipples were barely veiled by the now-translucent fabric, and Jooheon’s focus on them was undivided.

Mortified, Lex brought her hands back quickly and turned sideways under the showerhead.

“I’m cold,” he said.

Why was his voice so low?

“Want me to move?” she asked, watching the soap on her skin instead of him.

“Why don’t we share?”

She should have trusted that voice—she’d heard that sentence countless times from the same lips set between the same dimples in the same handsome face—but when he looked at her like he was looking at her now, like she was his next meal, she couldn’t trust it.

As Jooheon slid under the water in front of her, Lex backed up to the edge of the tub, careful that even their toes didn’t touch as she hurried to rinse off.

“I’m almost done,” she said as she shuffled toward the end of the tub, but Jooheon slid a hand onto her waist to stop her. His thumb swept across her rib and glossed over that last little bird.

“Why did you get a tattoo of me?”

Lex took a long drink of water from above—her mouth was strangely dry. As her gaze fell back to that washcloth, she shrugged and said quietly, “I mean, I didn’t just get a tattoo of you, egomaniac, but, you know… you’re important to me.”

Why was it so hard to say something she always said to him? Maybe it was because his hand hadn’t moved and his thumb was still stroking. Her eyes pinched shut as she tried to focus on anything other than the silken gloss of his finger. He was clearly waiting for more, and she wasn’t going to get out of it.

Lex closed her eyes and added, “And, you know, I love you.”

His hand tightened on her waist. “You love me?”

“I mean, duh. Don’t act like I haven’t told you that.”

“I love you, too,” he whispered as he took a step closer.

His thigh brushed her thigh. She would have thought it was an accident if it didn’t happen again immediately, this time grazing her core. Lex bit her lip and turned her head, trying desperately not to give away her gasp, but Jooheon curled a finger under her chin and turned her back to him.

“Let me show you how much I love you, Lex.”

He pressed a little harder with his thigh, and she almost lost herself in it. Jooheon was so magnetic and charming and powerful when he wanted to be. Over the years, she had seen firsthand how hard and fast many of her friends had tumbled into and out of his bed. But they hadn’t known him for a decade. If Lex fell into his bed, everything would change, and tomorrow she’d be alone.

Before he could kiss her, she jerked back, and the ice-cold tile behind her snapped her out of his spell.

“J, I’m not like Becca or Mina or Bianca. You can’t just get rid of me.”

But he was undeterred. His forehead pressed against hers as he caught her gaze. “I know that.”

There was a husky timbre to his voice, almost as if he were hypnotized. Lex had to wake him up before they did something stupid.

“Think about this, J. You’re tattooed on my body.”

He purred—he fucking purred—and ran his hand over her ribs, his fingers playing at the underside of her breast. “Yes, I am. Doesn’t that mean you’re mine?”

Oh, fuck, his fingers felt good. They were always mischievous, but now they were outright wicked.

“Jooheon—”

His nose skirted along her jaw and ear as his fingers tightened around her.

“I love that I’m on your body, babe, but I’d rather be inside it.”

He kissed her neck, savoring the sweet water there, and she whimpered at the roll of his tongue on her skin. His breath was hotter than the water, and she burned under him.

“I need you, Lexie.”

Jooheon hadn’t called her Lexie since the moment before they’d kissed at prom—since the moment he’d tasted the inside of her mouth, and she’d gasped and he’d mumbled that it had all been part of their gag and to forget it.

Oh god, this was another stupid joke of his, and she was falling for it again. She thought about chucking his shampoo bottle at him, but before she could reach for it, he flattened his wet body along hers, and she felt how desperately his cock strained for her through his pitiful briefs. This was no joke.

One of his hands gripped the back of her head and brought her eye-to-eye with him. His eyes were thin as razors and ten times as sharp.

“Tell me you love me again,” he begged.

At least Needy Jooheon was familiar. Lex had spent many Friday nights on his couch, his head in her lap as she combed his hair with her fingers and told him how handsome he was. This was just an extra needy Jooheon. She could handle him. She could handle this. A little praise and he would come back to his old self.

“I love you, J.” She raked her hand through his messy bangs like she always did. Now he needed a compliment, and this would all go back to normal. “You look so pretty all wet like this.”

The fuck did she say that for! No, that came out all wrong!

Except that every single syllable of it was true. Rivulets of water dripped from his lashes as rivers cascaded down his smooth torso and slicked their bodies together. The curtain diffused the light and gave his skin an illicit back alley glow. Friends shouldn’t be here like this.

Lex felt his cock twitch against her core. Fuck, it felt good. He wanted to put that inside her, and she knew it, and now she wasn’t just wet from the shower or sticky from the soda. It was all because of Lee Jooheon.

“Not pretty like you, baby,” he said. “Who could compete with this?”

His eyes snaked down to her breasts where his thumb finally ventured forward to stroke her nipple through her drenched bra.

“There’s my girl. You always get my attention. Let me give it all to you, Lexie.”

His thumb circled her perking bud a few times before he tugged it and she grunted. He was mesmerized.

“I waited too long. I should have been playing with your body like this the whole time.”

Lex’s eyelids fluttered shut as he teased her nipples and whispered sinful things against her ear.

“Don’t say things you don’t mean,” she managed between pinches.

Jooheon grabbed her waist with both hands and, with a growl, ground his hardness against her sex. “Do you believe me now, baby? I can’t lie anymore. I need you. Do you need me?”

“Lie?” she echoed through a haze of lust.

“Do you need me, Lexie?” he repeated, sliding his cock along her clothed sex.

“Yes.”

A smile spread across Jooheon’s face before he dove in for a kiss. This wasn’t like their awkward prom kiss. He was eager and determined, and he drove his tongue into her mouth without hesitation. He tasted suspiciously of mouthwash, and she might have figured he’d planned this if she didn’t know just how impetuous of a guy Jooheon was.

Lex’s hands reached up to hold his cheeks, and her thumbs found his dimples as he smiled into the kiss. His arms encircled her back and tugged her closer as pools puddled between their chests. The water was warm, but he was warmer against her, especially that stiff cock digging urgently against her belly.

He pulled back, and her eyelids fluttered open. It was the same face she’d known half her life, but it was so foreign. Water cascaded down his bangs and contoured his high cheeks. His eyes were black, and his always luscious lips were swollen and red.

He was breathtaking, and he knew it. Jooheon smiled and glanced down her body.

“We don’t need these anymore,” he said, toying with the hem of her underwear. “I can see everything anyway.”

To prove his point, he traced the seam of her pussy lips, and Lex’s head knocked back against the tile, but she wasn’t going to let him waste her to nothing without getting her own way, too. She gripped that enticing silhouette of his hard-on, and Jooheon’s eyes ignited.

“Yes,” he hissed.

He raced to take off his underwear, but it was trickier than he thought, and he pitched forward alongside her as he tottered on one leg.

“That’s what you get for showing off,” Lex teased as she tossed her bra then her underwear over the curtain rod with a splat.

“I haven’t begun to show off, baby,” he fired back, still determined, though he was caught up in one leg of his boxer briefs.

Lex laughed, but it was short-lived when she realized that she was now totally naked next to her best friend. Her skin flushed pink, and it had nothing to do with the hot water.

Finally free of his confines, he stood back up, and they took each other in. Much like every other part of him, Jooheon’s cock was pretty. It was powerful and thick with a bright pink head and throbbing veins, and it had a sexy curve that Lex knew would rub her just right.

She couldn’t help it. She gripped him immediately and relished the grunt of relief he released. Ribbons of water slicked her hand as she pumped him hilt to tip and feathered her fingers through the soft curls at his base.

Not to be outdone, Jooheon tweaked both of Lex’s nipples until they were firm and high and she was whining. His thumb flicked one over and over again, and he smirked at how she bucked her hips with each stroke.

“You have the sexiest tits I’ve ever seen, Lexie,” he marveled. Then his thumb swiped over the little bird at the base of one, and he smiled again. “I’m so fucking lucky I’ll be on them forever.”

Lex pumped his cock a little harder at his words before guiding his hand down to her aching pussy.

“I like it when you touch me, J. Touch me here.”

He glossed his fingers over her soaking folds and kissed her again through a chorus of shared moans. Their mouths molded together as their hands caressed each other until exploration gave wave to flagrant desire.

Jooheon parted her messy lower lips and glided his middle finger deep inside her. Lex’s hand tightened around his girth as waves of pleasure washed through her.

Jooheon was inside her. A part of him could feel her from the inside.

“Fuck,” she groaned as she pulled back from his mouth.

“Wow,” he murmured. “Lexie, I—”

His dick pulsed in her hand, and she knew he was as overcome as she was. She tipped forward and kissed him quickly on the lips, and they both remembered themselves. Jooheon curled his finger forward and stroked her velvet walls as her forehead clunked against his shoulder.

From here, Lex could see everything—her hand jerking his length, his palm massaging her clit. Her thumb circled the leaking head of his cock, and he pushed harder into her hand.

“Tighter, Lexie. Faster,” he said desperately.

Jooheon slipped a second finger inside her and gave her the same rough treatment he sought. Her heat constricted around the additional intrusion, and it was harder to focus on pleasing him when he was finger-fucking her so right. At least she could give him one thing no one else could because she knew him better than anyone else.

Lex switched her gaze from his shaft to his face. His eyes were hooded and narrow, glazed with the steam and his lust, and for a moment, it was hard to believe he could ever look at her this way. She pressed her lips to his jaw and whispered, “You’re so handsome, baby, and your fingers feel so good. You’re gonna make me cum on your hand.”

Jooheon loved praise, and she could feel his member twitch at her words. He nodded numbly but singled out her clit with his merciless thumb.

She whimpered against his ear. “No one’s ever made me feel this good.”

“Yeah?” he said breathless with hope. “No one? Just me?”

“Just you, J. Your fingers feel so good, but I want your big cock inside me.”

But Jooheon had always been stubborn, and he redoubled his determination to finger her into oblivion. Lex was slick with her desire for him, and it was easy for him to piston his fingers into her cunt as fast as he wanted. She was quickly approaching her end, but she tightened her thighs around his wrist, pinning him knuckle-deep inside her.

He looked up at her with wide eyes, but she assured him with another quick kiss.

“I want the first time I cum for you to be on your cock.”

He smiled, rivers of water channeling through his cavernous dimples.

“Turn around,” he said, and Lex released his fingers between her thighs.

She felt so empty without him inside her, and she had a sneaking suspicion it was always going to be this way now. Jooheon had a way of sinking deep into a person’s heart, and it would hurt whenever he would leave. Now, she was inviting him somewhere even more intimate. What had she opened herself up to?

Lex did as she was told and swiveled around on the shower mat so her ass was nestled right against his inescapable erection. His hands ghosted over her flesh, hovering just above her so that she could feel his intentions without knowing his first attack.

At last, Jooheon groped her breasts, kneading a handful of each as he kissed her neck. When he was ready, he bent her forward, farther and farther down until she was almost folded in half. Water sloshed down her back and over her shoulder blades to warm every inch of her skin. He savored her like that for a moment, caressing the globes of her ass and the tops of her thighs before he pushed two fingers back inside her cunt and drove them down with maddening precision.

Anticipation shattered, Lex cried out at the delicious penetration. Each digit stroked the most sensitive regions of her walls with relentless determination. None of her other lovers had lit every fuse inside her like this. Even with the water running, her arousal dripped obscenely down her pussy lips, and when Jooheon was satisfied, he slid both hands down to her wrists. He brought one of her hands up to brace against the wall and the other he pulled back behind her for leverage of his own.

With his free hand, Jooheon guided the tip of his dick over her folds until he was slick with her juices, and finally, he seated himself at her entrance. His cock poised there, her greedy hole inviting him in, but he hesitated.

Lex had never been known for her patience though, and she pushed her hips back against him, guiding him deep inside her. They moaned in unison, one breathy and one guttural, as they joined at the hilt. She started to move again, but Jooheon stilled her hips with urgent fingers curling around her.

“Give me a minute, babe,” he said between strained breaths. “You feel too fucking good.”

“Please, Jooheony? I need you. I really want to cum for you.”

It was a nickname all his girlfriends used; Lex had never felt right saying it, so she never had, and the effect was immediate.

His one hand pressed firmly at the top of her ass while his other pulled back higher on her wrist, pinning her tightly to him. When he pulled out, every ridge massaged her tight core and sent her shuddering. The curve of his cock was every bit as addictive as she’d expected as it raked just right inside her. It only took a few shallow, well-placed thrusts for Lex to realize, in all these years, she’d never been properly fucked until Jooheon.

He knew exactly where to drive his dick to stimulate her body and mind, and the sharp angle she was bent at ensured she felt every inch of him. He worked her pussy fast and shallow while she whimpered against the leg-trembling friction, and when he was ready, he plunged in until his hips ground against her clit. For a moment, Lex saw stars and her supporting arm buckled at the elbow.

“Oh my god,” was all she could manage, but she wanted to say so much more. She wanted to tell him how right his cock felt filling her up. She wanted to tell him how he was ruining her to all other men. She wanted to tell him that as good as he was making her feel, it was because it was her Jooheon, the man she trusted enough to tattoo on her body, touching her like this, and nothing and no one else would ever make every nerve sing like this again.

Jooheon was quiet behind her. His everything was focused on her and in her. One finger wrapped around her thigh and found her clit, flicking as fast as he was now fucking.

The water was growing cold, or maybe it was that her body felt so hot from the inside out. The rush of the waterfalls and the whine of the pressure in the showerhead faded behind her staccato panting.

“G-gonna cum,” Lex stuttered.

Her wrist thrashed in his hand as he held her in place and continued to work her stiff clit through her high while her knees quaked as she fought to stay upright. Her core quivered around his member and she cried out his name. She was tight and tired and spent and happy. Lex had never felt like this with any of her lovers, but then none of them had ever known her like Jooheon did.

She felt his fingers dig into her, and she expected him to follow her over the edge, but he was still teasing himself inside her. His rhythm had slowed and he let go of her arm so she could sag against it, too, on the wall.

“That was unbelievable,” Lex murmured with her cheek against the tile.

Except for the wet slaps of his hips against her ass, there was silence behind her.

“J?” she asked softly as she twisted to see him.

He was so beautiful, wet and ragged and focused solely on his length disappearing into her heat.

“J? You okay?”

His eyes were glazed, and his fat bottom lip hung open, collecting droplets. His voice was dark and faraway as he said softly, “I’m trying not to cum. I don’t want to stop fucking you, Lexie. I don’t want this to end.”

“It’s okay,” she assured, pushing her cunt back to envelope his whole cock inside her. “You did so good for me, baby. You made me feel so good, I want you to feel good, too. I want you to cum. Cum for me, Jooheony. Cum for me, okay?”

He groaned and held her hips so she met him thrust for thrust as he fucked her as deep as he could go. Lex’s mouth dropped open with a long whine punctuated by each ram of his hard shaft. The faster he went, the deeper his fingers dug into her, and she could hear from his little grunts that he was close. She squeezed her core to help him along, and that was all it took to do him in.

With a desperate moan, Jooheon pulled out and pumped his aching cock as he spurted his cum all over her back. In a moment, the water had washed their indiscretion away, and he helped Lex back up.

He reached for his washcloth and lathered up a fresh round of soap before he washed her back and legs for her. He was gentle, almost as though he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to touch her anymore. When he’d finished cleaning her back, he handed her the cloth before he soaped himself with his hands and hurried to rinse off.

“I’ll give you a minute,” he said quickly, avoiding her gaze as he hopped out.

Lex stood dumbfounded under the rapidly cooling water. She felt the irrational urge to cry, but she wasn’t sure why. Maybe the cold water was a wakeup call or maybe because it was starting to feel like a joke after all or maybe because, without Jooheon next to her, it felt like a one-night stand.

When she emerged into the fading steam in the bathroom, Lex was freezing, and she realized her only clothes were in a sticky, wet pile in the corner. The thought of padding out into his apartment in a towel made a shiver of new vulnerability shake her to her core.

Then her eyes fell to the counter where Jooheon had left a pair of his sweatpants along with the promised ThunderCats tee. He remembered.

Lex dressed quickly and mussed her wet locks into a reasonably cute style that gave her back some sense of control though it didn’t quell the dread building in her chest as her hand fell to the knob. She just had to pull off the Band-Aid…

Jooheon was sitting on the couch with his hands kneading his knees as he stared off into space. With a deep breath, Lex sat next to him. It still smelled like soda in here, and she couldn’t help the little smile when she’d realized he’d already flipped all the cushions. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him open a hand, and she took it.

They sat side-by-side in awkward silence, his hand in hers as they thought it should be after something life-altering like what they’d just done, but it felt strange. Neither said a word for several minutes.

“What is this, J?” Lex ventured at last into the uncomfortable web of tension between them. “I mean, are we still friends or did we ruin that?”

His hand tightened around hers, and it brought her attention to him. Jooheon was watching her with tender eyes. His thumb swept over the back of her hand before he said, “I’m not planning on going anywhere. Are you?”

“No.”

He let out a relieved sigh, and his grip on her hand loosened a bit. “So, can’t we make this an everyday thing?”

“What? Shower sex?”

He smirked. “Well, I mean, that’s an option, but how about sleeping in my bed?”

“Just sleeping?” she said with a raised eyebrow.

“After we’re done with the fun stuff, sure.” But then his dimples fell away as he turned to face her fully. “I just want you with me. All the time.”

“Like a thing?”

Jooheon laughed. “We’ve always been a thing, Lex. I just want more of it.”

She mirrored his laugh as she shoved a shoulder into his. “This your way of saying you have designs on me, Lee?”

“Hey, we could have been doing this since prom if you hadn’t pulled away from my kiss.”

“You’re so full of shit,” she said as she punched his arm. “You pulled away from me! I wanted to keep kissing you.”

“You did?”

“Yeah, idiot, I liked you. I just thought you wanted to stay friends.”

His eyes closed, and a new layer of thick anticipation settled between them. She could feel an oncoming truth, but she wondered if it would be something she was actually ready to hear. Every muscle tensed inside her, and she felt the urge to run. If his hand weren’t holding her in place, she might have. Jooheon took a deep breath, and the air pulsed.

“I’m in love with you, Lex. I always have been. I always will be.” He collapsed against the cushions and sighed, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Never thought I’d have the guts to say that.”

Every last bit of breath rushed out of her as she gaped at him. “What?”

“You’re the only girl I’ve ever loved, but I didn’t want to ruin the best thing in my life if you didn’t feel the same. But then I saw that tattoo, and you let me touch you, and— Tell me I didn’t fuck everything up.”

Lex covered her mouth to hide her astonished laugh. “Not everything. Just me.”

Jooheon dappled pink across his cheeks before he grabbed her into a fierce hug. They had hugged countless times over their years together, but none of them had ever been so intense. As her arms wrapped around him and her fingers twirled a lock of his hair, it felt like a prelude to a whole new chapter. He was so warm in her arms and his dimple was so reassuring against her cheek, Lex felt the words tumbling out of her mouth before she even realized it.

“I’m in love with you, too.”

In an instant, Jooheon brought his mouth to hers and pushed the two of them down onto his couch. He kissed her greedily until her lips were swollen and her head was muddled and their hearts beat in time, and when he finally came back up for air, he rested his forehead to hers and smiled the biggest smile Lex had ever seen.

“I love you,” they said together, and then, with a shared grin, “Jinx!”

This time Jooheon won, and his smile morphed into a smirk. “Now, what do you owe me? I’m all out of Coke.”

[arch-venus25]

The Head and the Heart, Part 4

Hello everyone,

I submitted this for @just-the-hiddles‘s The Damnit Jim, I’m A Vampire, Not A Landlord Fic Frenzy.

This chapter is less action heavy, but just as important. Thanks for hanging in there and reading!

Series Masterlist: The Head and The Heart

Summary: The twins are taking a night off from their graduate studies-- or at least Tessa is; her twin sister, Antha, is just trying to keep her out of trouble. What starts as a night of good old-fashioned fun and flirting quickly changes as they find themselves at the doorstep of the Hollow House Bed and Breakfast.

Characters: OFCs Antha and Tessa King, original characters/vampires

WARNINGS: 18+ for suggestive themes and violence, cursing, implied drug use, implied rape, stressful/scary situations, vampires, and characters with incredible hair-- you’ve been warned. Read at your own discretion.

Word Count: 3812

Part Four: The Aftermath

           The weathered professor seemed very confused but stood her ground and insisted, “Miss King, take the summer off.”

           “I just need a week, that’s all—and then I’ll get the methodology section to you—Dr. Watts I just need another week, please!” Antha pushed back. Dr. Watts set her glasses on her desk and then waved her over to a deep-tufted-leather sofa.

           “Antha,” her voice lowered, “I’ve known you for what—five years? You don’t become a valedictorian because you don’t like to write. You have been moody these past few weeks, you barely passed the final exam, and you’ve pushed back the thesis methodology three times. Last class, you were so distracted I would have rather you skipped. I know you, talk to me, what’s going on?”

           “My sister and I had a Friday night out with some friends and something happened.” Antha murmured, staring down at her feet.

           “Friday nights aren’t what they used be; did you hear about the fight that broke out at that dive bar off of—oh, what’s it called? You know the place—well, it was all over the news,” she paused gravely, “you weren’t there were you?”

           The twin nodded slowly. She felt overwhelmed in front of her advisor. She pinched the bridge of her nose and squeezed her eyes shut before replying. “Tessa’s date got into a fight with an old flame, it was a whole thing. But after…” She couldn’t continue. The advisor took her hand gently.

           “Did someone hurt you?”

           Antha’s eyes welled and all she could do was stare. As if she said the words out loud, it would become more true than it already was. The doctor’s forehead wrinkled as her brows gathered together. Having lived through the revolutions of the sixties and the proceeding struggle for equality, Dr. Watts knew the dangers women faced. She didn’t need an answer; she just wanted to offer shelter to a young woman. She knew just from looking at her student that whatever happened, it was beyond words.

           “You’re taking the summer and fall semester off—or at the very least take the summer off and go to a student counselor; its free, it comes with your tuition, so please use it. If you need anything you know you and your sister can come to me.” She wrote down her personal number and one for the counselors’ office. Antha held the little shred of stationary. She promised she would do just that.

        Shortly after, she left her advisor’s office and floated through the campus green and then waited by the bus stop. Her feet told her she was going home, yet her attention was somewhere far away. What can I say to a counselor? Who would understand what we saw at Hollow House? Without realizing, she had retrieved something from her pocket; she stared dumfounded at the pewter-colored iris that gleamed back.

        Antha couldn’t get rid of it. But in a moment of frustration, she chucked the marble-like eye into a nearby drain. She returned to her spot and tried to focus on scheduling a counselor. Moving forward, that’s what I need, she figured.

        A familiar wheezing crawled up the street. The sluggishness of a muffler that had seen better days filled her ears as she dazed at the phone number-laden scrap paper.  “—Antha!” Someone yelled. To her surprise she peered up to see Doug hanging out of his rusty Buick, looking just as timid as ever. He seemed anxious, for what reason she didn’t know. “I’ve been calling your name. You’ve gone deaf ol’ girl—you want a ride?” He asked with forced humor in his voice. She watched him blankly as his expression fell. “You alright?”

        Antha thought about it and suddenly felt stupid. All of her gusto about moving forward had evaporated; she lamely shook her head like a weary child. She felt like a little girl in a world that was too big for her. It all just seemed too much.

        The July swelter didn’t let up even with the windows down. The two didn’t speak as they made their way to their favorite pizza joint. Thrilled to be out of the unairconditioned Buick’s steel embrace, they collapsed into the far back booth of the pizzeria. All the servers knew it was Doug and Antha’s spot; they habitually kept it clean and empty, knowing they would eventually roll in. They made it to the “golden hour”. The sacred three hours between the lunch and dinner rush. It was their favorite time.

        “Whatchas want?” The straggly blue-haired waitress chewed her bubblegum like a goat.

        “The usual—uh hold on—when did you eat last?” Doug asked. Antha shrugged and realized she didn’t know. She couldn’t even think that far back. “Can we get a double order of the usual? But make two of them to-go?” The waitress didn’t even answer as she went to get drinks. “You want to talk about it?”

           “Nope. I said everything already.” Antha wasn’t mad at him, she was just tired. She was more annoyed that he would ask about the matter and then dispute the realism of what she explained. Doug grumbled when the waitress slopped the pitcher and straws down, vanilla coke-a-cola splashing everywhere.

           “—Hey, don’t we get like a punch-card or something? You know, for every hundred pizzas we buy, we get the next one free?” He politely suggested, his way of being confrontational. He was growing exasperated with the women in his life; he didn’t mind taking it from his close friends, Zoey and the twins, but he was having none of this waitress. She paused, chewed her gum, and left again.

           “Whoa, cool off killer,” Antha snarked, her spirits lifting with each sip of her fountain soda. She looked him over and thought on their friendship for a moment as he griped about that one particular server.

        Doug was a shy, lanky, ginger-bearded young man. He was passionate about things and supportive of the people he loved, but didn’t reserve much attention for the people outside of that parameter. He lived in vintage band t-shirts, had friendly light eyes, and a funny smile. No one could resist his unkempt wolfish hair or his corny sense of humor; he had a way of growing on a person. But he always showed up, his guitar in tow. That’s why Antha didn’t fight him when he asked about that night; she knew he actually cared and was trying his best to understand. He couldn’t help her though. No one could help.

        “How about we hang out this weekend, do a barbeque? Nobody grills a burger like you—and Tessa can make her sangria, huh, what do you think?” He tried to turn the conversation to open her up.

        “Uhh… I don’t know. I can’t plan that far ahead, I’m real busy.” She declined. The sausage pizzas arrived faster than expected and Doug dropped slices on their plates.

        “Busy yeah? Mmm-hmmm,” he bit into his slice, cheese tangling in his five o’clock shadow, “busy not writing your thesis, not eating, and not sleeping? Ant, the last time I saw you eat was a few days ago when I brought pizza over. You gonna talk to me?”

        Antha sighed loudly and glared at him. She was worn-through with the people in her life too. I’m too tired for this shit, she thought. She pushed her plate forward and abandoned her half-eaten slice. He saw her mild protest and his cheeks tinged pink. They silently stared each other down, him chewing as loud as he could manage while she obnoxiously slurped her soda in reply.

        Before they could hash out their issues a patron burst through the front entrance. “Hey—hic—you seen Ant? Where she at? The back?” Tessa was hiccupping and talking all sorts of loud, like she was in a club on a Saturday night. “Oh hey girls!” She pointed at the staff and sashayed herself to the booth; her bedazzled sandals slapping the linoleum like a jackhammer in the quiet place. The front door jingled again and in rushed Zoey.

        “I’m sorry,” she apologized to the front of the house and then chased after Tessa. “I picked her up because she was texting me weird messages—I thought I could calm her down with something to eat.” She explained to the table as she took a seat next to Doug.

        “I already ate today.” Tessa insisted, sliding in next to her sister and almost toppling over a pizza.

        “Oh yeah, what did you have for lunch?” Doug asked, his patience wearing thin.

        “GIN and uh—” she had to think about it but excitedly rebounded, “and uh water ice. Breakfast of champions!” Tessa thought she was quite funny, regardless how everyone else disagreed.

        “How about we have a little slice of pi—” Doug pandered but she wasn’t going to hear any of it.

        “Now who would put sausage on a pizza? Oh, no. I have enough meat in my life—you know what I’m sayin’ Zo—you feel me?” She howled.

        “That’s cute.” Doug’s patience officially went on vacation as of that second. He tore the sausage off some of the pie and then thrust the mangled slice in front of the drunk twin. “There ya’ go, just cheese—And you eat your damn slice too! This has gone on long enough—we’re going to have a barbeque and chill like we always do! It’s Fourth of July this weekend, did you know that?” He directed at the other twin.

        “This white boy’s hollering at you, oh lord…” Tessa cackled; her cheese dripped down the side of the table as she reached for some ice chips from an empty cup. Zoey was mortified and motioned to Antha for help, her friend was out of control.

        “Yeah—well this boy’s about tired of this foolishness! I don’t know all of what’s happened that night, but neither one of you will talk to me about it! Ant you’ve been practically dead, a walking zombie for three weeks—and Tessa, it’s three o’clock in the afternoon, what the hell has gotten into you?”

        “Gin.” She giggled.

        “Hey Katy? Can we get all this to go, with some two liters?” He yelled across the full length of the restaurant.

        Zoey handled the food transport as Doug buckled the twins into his car. He mumbled to himself, “…goddamn vampires my ass…” as he cleared his fogging glasses. Tessa began to mildly complain about the heat when the car stopped at a red light. They all noticed a young man struggling to get into a car at the gas station across the way.

        “Is that José?” She whispered. They witnessed his mother trying to steady him, juggling his crutches and searching for a spot on him that wasn’t bandaged. Adorned in a neck brace, shoulder sling, full posterior elbow splint, and full left leg cast. Poor José appeared like he faced-off with a combine. Doug glared at the girls in his rear-view mirror. The light turned green and not another word was said.

        He parked the Buick under the tree closest to the house and got the girls inside. Zoey did the same and brought the provisions to the shaded porch. It was too hot to do anything other than sit around by the fan or stay in the AC. Tessa went to her room when they got in; she felt awful about what she had seen at the gas station.

        They worked together to set up the tall pedestal fan on the porch, because the porch fan just couldn’t combat Mother Nature alone. They were in the midst of dawdling about when Antha accidentally fell asleep on the porch swing while Doug played the guitar. Zoey elicited his help inside to leave Antha to nap. The two were shocked with the state of things.

        Momma’s house was a frightful mess. They never saw it in its condition before: Dishes with dust, articles of clothing haphazardly dropped, laundry either half started or half done, it was difficult to tell. “Momma would roll over, I swear…” Zoey whispered. They agreed to tidy up while the twins rested, lest Momma rise up and haunt them. That woman was meticulous and was not above coming back from the grave to tell everyone what’s-what.

        As if life had been frozen in time from the month prior. The twin’s incident hit like a meteor and their friends now saw the wreckage. While they hadn’t admitted it out loud, they had stopped living too; obsessed with what happened that night at Hollow House. Grasping for a truth that they couldn’t reach.

        The overloaded dishwasher whined as it cycled and it reminded Doug of seeing José, busted up and struggling. That’s what really happens after a bar-brawl. There’s always a winner and always a loser. He half-heartedly swept the floor and thought to himself: these are the parts they edit from movies. The aftermath. The guns, the glory, the blood all made the cut; but the estranged motions we go through to try and find the thread leading back to our lives doesn’t. These are the quiet moments without answers, like loose ends dangling.

        Zoey crept into the kitchen and signaled for him to follow her to the porch. She had just hung the last load of laundry on the line for the afternoon. They were both beat and sweat through from cleaning. They shimmied the big metal ice bucket to the front, fearing they’d disturb Antha. She was so far gone that an earthquake couldn’t wake her. They popped two well-earned beers and exchanged the bits and pieces of what they learned from the twins over the past few weeks.

        “…that’s crazy, right? Like there’s no way what Tessa told me could be real, right? Did someone roofie their drinks?” Zoey asked him as she tied his wavy hair into a top-knot.

        “I’m just worried that something happened they won’t say, like they’re traumatized—I mean, Zo, I was driving to the bar and I seen them covered in blood on the side of the road. Tessa was screaming in the ER that a vampire attacked her sister—and then Antha all of a sudden, calms her down and explains to the doctors that they were lost in the woods, came upon the bed and breakfast for help, and that a strange man assaulted them there. Said they used a fireplace poker in defense, bloodied him up real good, and they escaped to the main road.” Doug took a swig of beer to recuperate.

        He was getting worked up just relaying the story, “But the cops, they investigated that place and found six bodies—slaughtered—in the basement, two of them the owners. The bodies had been sitting there for days before the twins got to ‘em. I’m scared that maniac’s out there. I mean—I’m scared in my own damn apartment when I think about it. What if they were found in that basement? What if we couldn’t find them?” He shook his head.

        “What can we do for them? Are there groups for people like this, who think they’ve seen something supernatural?” Zoey mused aloud as she pinned her jet-black pixie cut hair out of her face. The two pulled fresh beers out of the ice bucket and vowed to do some research after the weekend. They agreed their first goal was to get the twins fed and cared for.

        They watched the sun set into folds of purple, pink, and orange over the high grass. The heat of the day receded with the light, but the humidity persisted only to remind them that it was an intermission; the threat remained that the summer’s full force would return at tomorrow’s dawn.

        The grasshoppers were summoned as Doug strummed his guitar, not truly playing anything particular. Zoey brought out cards to shuffle, waiting on Tessa to play. The evening began to set in peacefully until a rumble cut through the twilight.

        A huge pickup truck barreled down the long drive and parked in front of the house. Out jumped the infamous Flake. His blond hair contrasted against the lavender sky, budding starlight glinting off his aviator sunglasses, and a tooth pick in the corner of his mouth completed his redneck-chic visage. He swaggered up to the porch and was met with a startled Antha; she had jumped up like a viper at the sound of his wheels. He donned a large patch like bandage over half an eye and his hands were wrapped too.

        “Tessa around?” Franco didn’t even offer small talk which had Antha go straight from just waking up to furious.

        “Not for you.”

“Well, I wanted to check in on her—haven’t been able to call on account of that scuffle at the bar. Them boys got my tires and my phone.”

        “Looks like they got your eye too.” She scoffed.

        “Yep,” he laughed and pulled his sunglasses down to reveal those piercing big blues, “you should see the other guy.”

        “We did.” Her disdain seemed to suck the air out of the whole yard. Franco leaned on the porch banister and pulled a smoke from behind his ear. Her eyes burned so hot on him she could have lit his cigarette.

        “I can see you’re not much for visitors, so I’ll just leave this. If you could give it to Tessa, I’d be mighty grateful.” He handed her a number, but she walked away not even considering it. Zoey jumped up and took the note. “Night ya’ll.” Franco flicked his butt into the yard and made his way back to his truck.

        Long after he left and the noise of his truck faded Antha sat, her arms crossed, on the porch swing. Her friends idled by, every so often glancing in her direction waiting for her to speak her mind. The disgruntled twin couldn’t connect the pieces of her dislike for Franco. It wasn’t as simple as his jeans were too torn, his truck too loud, or his gaze too heavy; it was the fact that she knew nothing about him. No one did. Where did he come from—and where was he going? It didn’t add up to Antha that he was the first hillbilly she ever met without a tan. What working man doesn’t have a farmer’s tan? Finally, after a good twenty-five minutes of contemplation Antha announced, “I need a drink.” With a flutter of Zoey’s sundress, she presented a liter of honey whiskey, lemon wedges, and shot glasses.

        A few shots and some pizza in her stomach, Antha started to feel somewhat whole. The four-hour nap revived her a bit, or least lessened the haze she had been wading through. She could finally take in her surroundings: she was lucky to have her friends. When the mosquitos really started to bite they brought their party inside and relished the cool—and now clean—house. “I don’t know what I’d do without you two, I’m sorry I can’t,” she paused, “I just can’t right now.” Before Antha could work out her sentiment the queen bee descended from her room.

        “That’s it! I have decided!” Tessa announced, thumping down the stairs like a sentinel charge. “I’m going to visit José tomorrow—even though it’s not my fault he got his ass beat, I still think it’s only fair to show love.” She waited, her hands on her hips, for their unyielding approval or preferably a round of applause.

        “Look at you growing a conscious,” was the general consensus of the other three. Tessa saucily tossed her braids as she dusted her shoulders. They all scooted into the kitchen table and fed her dinner. Just like a heart, she had a way of pulsing life into a room. Before they knew it, they were swapping stories like always.

        Tessa was laughing and teasing Doug when she took a shot. She threw her empty glass down on the table as was customary, but when the glass met the table it then clinked as if something had been dropped into it. They all sat forward to see a silvery-gray eye in the bottom.

        “Did you just spit that in there?” Doug’s eyes were wide.

        The twins beheld each other knowingly.

        In the beginning, they initially freaked out over the eyes returning. Now it became a sickening fascination of what they could do to them. The eyes always returned. They burned them, they drowned them, and they threw them away; every time the eyes returned to the twins.

        “I tried to tell you, but you’re not listening,” Antha began, “these eyes are following us. Ever since we killed that thing at Hollow House, we’ve had them.” Doug and Zoey’s faces were pained in disbelief.

        “Here.” Tessa got up roughly and held the eye over the sink. She turned on the garbage disposal and dropped it in; it made a grotesque metal sound and then after a few rotations, crunched like glass. Antha showed the eye that was always in her back pocket and explained she threw it away in a drain across town earlier that day. She threw hers in too, directly into the disposal.

        “Well, how long does it take for them to come back?” Zoey asked.

        “They’re not coming back—this is a trick!” Doug looked like an angry leprechaun with his reddened face and stubble. The twins’ faces didn’t even shift with the accusation.

        “Sometimes its seconds, sometimes hours, or a day. It doesn’t matter, they’ll be back.” Antha confirmed and the twins took their seats at the table. The room became solemn as Tessa popped another round of beers and poured a flight of shots for them all, knowing the liquid courage was needed. Doug jumped up from his seat and began checking under cushions, searching cupboards, and drawers. The girls sat back and waited as he processed.

        He huffed, “…you got back-ups, or hiding ‘em somewhere—I don’t know why you’re playing with me right now…it’s not funny…” But then a loud plop sounded on the kitchen table, like a golf ball dropped from the ceiling. He turned to watch a second oversized marble drop seemingly out of thin air. He returned to the table and gawked at the two eyes sitting in front of the twins. “You got to tell us what happened at Hollow House.” Doug’s voice was hushed as he shakily accepted the whiskey shot from Tessa. In unison they saluted and threw back the shots with beer chasers.

        While the four friends went over the sordid events, in gruesome detail, a mysterious figure watched from the unlit porch window. The uninvited guest crept off through the yard, down the dirt-path driveway, and made a phone call:

        “They got them eyes,” it reported, “I reckon there’ll be a war.”

Twinning Taglist: If you want to be added or removed just let me know; please share with anyone that might be interested. I would love any and all feedback so I can learn and become a better writer. Thank you!  I tagged some people that I thought would be interested in this. @myoxisbroken​ @just-the-hiddles​ @vodka-and-some-sass​ @nildespirandum​ @yespolkadotkitty​ @latent-thoughts​ @emeraldrosequartz​ @villainousshakespeare​ @hopelessromanticspoonie​ @caffiend-queen​ @poetic-fiasco​ @lokimostly​ @dianamolloy​ @marvelgirlonamarvelworld​ @brightsunanddarkmidnight2-0​ @cateyes315​ @mooncat163​ @nuggsmum​ @myraiswack​​​ @wolfpawn​​ @plastic-heart​​ @confusednerd09​

[reddesertcolbs]

new girl // colby brock

this made me sad

requested: yes 

summary: you’re colby’s best friend and he has been ditching you for his new girl, so you decide to give him a piece of your mind.

word count: 2.7k+ words.

warnings: mention of parties and alcohol, a few swear words, angst

masterlist

//

it is wednesday, which means it is pizza night for the whole group. not going to lie, you adored pizza night because it was the only time everyone got together without any distractions, the only distraction is when the boys battle each other on their games, but it’s a good distraction. 

however, this pizza night is different from any other pizza night. the vibe is completely off, as everyone watches colby introduce a girl who he has been talking to for a couple of weeks. 

you are still yet to meet the mystery girl, as colby has been very distant with you since she came into his life. any spare time that he had with you, has now changed to him spending time with her. recently, he has started to cancel plans that the two of you had together last minute, which not going to lie, has pissed you off because it’s so not like him. 

you and colby were best friends, and you were practically joint at the hip. even though you were supposed to be made up for your best friend finally meeting someone who feels right, you can’t stop the jealousy that is bubbling in the pit of your stomach. now, this isn’t because you fancied him or because you wanted to be his girlfriend, you just felt nervous of the idea of a new girl being in his life. 

colby made quick eye contact with you, and gave you a quick smile before turning his attention to the girl in front of him. you watch, as he wraps his arms around her waist, and leans in to whisper something in her ear and she chucks her head back as soft giggles fall from her lips. 

your gaze is diverted from colby and the girl, to sam, who is shouting at you from the opposite side of the room and waving his arm like a maniac to gain your attention. 

“y/n!” he shouts, waving a ping pong ball in the air. “devyn needs a team player, you’re up.” 

you nod, picking up your drink from the floor and stroll towards sam, kat and devyn who are standing by the pool table. upon arriving, you take a gulp of the drink, and place the now empty cup on the edge of the pool table. 

“what drink is in the cups this time?” you ask, peeping into the red cups and trying to take a sniff. 

“vodka, straight.” kat grins, watching as your face twists in disgust. 

“jesus, are you trying to kill me?” you chuckle, picking up the ping pong ball and bouncing it on the table, groaning when it misses the cups on the opposite end. “why couldn’t you mix it with coke?” 

“stop moaning and drink up.” sam cackles, as the white ball lands perfect in the red cup that is placed neatly in front of you. you groan, but pick up the cup anyway and chug it down quickly. coughs of disgust fall from your lips, and you grip your chest at the burning feeling of the vodka slipping down your throat. 

“fucking hell, that’s awful.” you whine, face still twisted in disgust, as the three laugh at your reaction. 

beer (vodka) pong goes on for at least forty minutes before sam and kat are crowned the winners, and devyn and you would have won if you both weren’t so bad at it.

during this time, colby still hasn’t been to see you or even spoken to you and as you’re getting more drunk, you can’t help but start to sulk at the fact your best friend of years, is ignoring your presence for a girl he’s known for a couple of weeks. 

you are sitting on the sofa, with your fourth drink of the night, as well as the vodka from beer pong, and you're resting your chin on your palm. you feel the seat dip next to you, and you turn your head to the left and smile as corey wraps his arm around your shoulder, in a friendly way. 

“i can’t help but notice that you’re not enjoying yourself tonight,” he speaks quietly in your ear. even though the music in the trap house is loud, he doesn’t want to gain the attention of the others. “what wrong? you can tell me anything you know.” 

“i just don’t like getting ignored.” you sigh, looking over in the direction of colby and his new girl, who is now sitting on his lap. you turn your gaze back to corey, who follows your gaze and his eyebrows raised in shock. “he’s been so distant, cancelling plans and ignoring my texts and calls. it’s starting to get to me, not going to lie.” 

you can feel your breath hitch and your eyes begin to water, as all of the emotions of the night begin to release. you blink away any tears that are threatening to fall quickly, and stand up from your seat and turn to corey. 

“i’ll be back in a minute, i’m just going to use the bathroom.” you smile, wiping under your eyes quickly and move towards the stairs that lead to the bathroom. 

stepping into the bathroom, you lock the door and sit on the edge of the white bath and you finally feel tears fall down the apples of your cheeks. sniffles escape from your lips as you rub the bottom of your eyes, trying not to get mascara all over your face, as you stand to look at yourself in the mirror. hastily wiping the mascara drips from below your eyes, you turn your head towards the door as a soft knock booms. 

“y/n, it’s colby,” he shouts from the opposite side of the brown wooden door. “can you unlock the door please?” 

your eyes widen at his voice, and you remove any reminders of the mascara from your eyes. it was obvious that you were crying, and you didn’t try to hide it as you walked towards the door and unlocked it, before sitting back on the edge of the tub. 

your head remains looking at the floor, as his shoes come into contact with your gaze. he places his hand on your shoulder, but you flinch at his touch and he frowns, then quickly removes his hand to play with his rings, that are littered all over his fingers.. 

“hey, look at me.” he demands, but in a soft voice to encourage you to look in his direction. “please?” 

sighing, you raise your head to look at him with watery eyes, as you bring your bottom lip between your teeth to stop it from quivering. his face is confused, but it’s also laced with concern as he studies your face. 

“what’s going on? corey said you’re upset. has someone said something to you?” he questions, eyes widening as he talks fast, determined to find out what’s wrong with his best friend. 

“it’s what someone hasn’t said.” you spit, voice laced with anger as you ball your fists in frustration. you didn’t mean to sound like a bitch, but you needed to let him know that he’s upset you and now is the best time whilst you’re both alone. 

“what are you going on about?” he looks at you puzzled, searching your face for clues as to what you’re talking about.

“you haven’t uttered one word to me all night. in fact for weeks, colby.” you sigh, looking down at the floor again, before returning your attention to his face. “you’ve cancelled plans, you’ve ignored my calls and texts and every time i come over to hang out you’re not here because you’re too busy with her.” 

colby was stunned. he didn’t know how to react because he didn’t know that he was the reason that you were upset and crying in the bathroom. 

colby sighs, as he brings his hand up to his hair and tugs on it. he is suddenly feeling stressed, frustrated and guilty knowing that he’s made his best friend and favourite girl feel like pure shit, to the point she’s crying. 

“i’m sorry,” he mummers, looking away because he can’t stand to see the hurt on her face. he moves back, so he is leaning against the sink, and folds his arms across his chest. “i didn’t realise i was making you feel this way, i’m sorry.” 

you scoff, and raise to your feet so you're standing in front of him. your scoff makes him lift his head and make eye contact with you, and he tugs his bottom lip in between his pearly white teeth nervously. 

“are you not happy for me or something? is this why you’re so pissed off with me?” he asks, standing up straight and he knits his brows together. 

“you’re joking right?” you say, shaking your head as you feel more frustrated tears threatening to fall. “of course i’m made up for you colby, as long as you're happy, i’m happy.” 

“well clearly you’re not because you’re acting like this.” he nods his head into your direction and moves his arms about to get his point across. his words only make you shake your head more, as you laugh humourlessly. 

“i’m pissed off because you’ve ditched your best friend of many fucking years, for a girl you’ve known for two seconds.” you try not to raise your voice, but you can’t help it as you feel the anger bubble in the pit of your stomach. “can i add as well, you’ve ditched the one who helps you edit your videos, the one who keeps you company when you’re feeling sad or want someone to watch movies with you, the one who cooks you food when you can’t be arsed and the one who cares about you so fucking much, that she’s crying right in front of you for treating her like a complete idiot.” 

you’ve let the hot tears fall now, and you can’t stop them as sobs begin to fall from your lips. colby’s heart is shattering at the sight, but he’s still taking in your words. 

it’s silent for a few moments, before colby moves quickly to wrap his arms around your frame. this time, you don’t shrug him off, because what you need at this moment in time is a hug from the man standing in front of you. so, you wrap your arms tightly around his waist and cling on to him as sobs wrack through your body. 

he rubs his hand soothingly on your back to help calm you down, and he sighs, playing back your words over and over in his head. guilt was all he felt. he didn’t know he was pushing you away, he was so wrapped up in something new, that he couldn’t see he was forgetting to spend time with the girl who means the most to him. 

“i’m so sorry, so fucking sorry y/n.” he mummers against your shoulder, squeezing your frame tightly as if he was afraid that you were going to push him off and tell him to go and fuck himself. he could feel himself starting to get emotional, so he tugs his bottom lip between his teeth again to stop it from wavering. 

you manage to calm yourself down, sniffling every now and then as you wipe your eyes. you loosen your arms on waist, and step back to wipe the tears off your face and sigh. you feel slightly embarrassed for confessing your feelings about the situation to colby, but you knew deep down that he needed to know, otherwise you were going to be more hurt in the long run. 

“i promise, colbs. i’m made up for you, but please don’t push me out because you’ve found someone.” you say quietly, suddenly feeling exhausted as your head begins to pound. you don’t know if it’s from the alcohol, or your thoughts, but you bring your fingers to your temples and rub gently. 

“i won’t, everything’s going to change. i promise.” he says softly, bringing you in for another hug before releasing and looking at you. “do you want to go back down there? or do you want to watch movies in my room?” he asks, searching your face for answers. 

“you can’t leave her down there for me, it’s not fair. i’m just going to go home, it’s getting late and i’m pretty tired now.” you say, looking at your hands to avoid eye contact with him. 

“okay,” he sighs, nodding his head in acknowledgment. “do you have a lift home already? i can drive you, i haven’t drank anything today.” 

“yes please, if you don’t mind.” you chew your lip, a habit that you have when you feel awkward or nervous, and you’re not too sure why you’re feeling like this in front of your best friend. 

“of course not, c’mon.” he says, giving your shoulder a last squeeze for comfort, before unlocking the door and climbing down the stairs. 

you wait by the door, as you don’t want anyone to see you in this state and anyone to question you, and you hear colby announce he’s driving you home and he won’t be long. you hear everyone shout goodbye to you, and it brings a smile onto your lips for the first time in a while, and you follow colby as he opens the front door and to his car. 

the drive to your place was short, as you live close by, and you rest your head on the coolness of his car window and let your eyes close. colby glances in your direction multiple times to make sure you’re okay, and once he arrives outside your house, he taps your shoulder to gain your attention.

“hey,” he whispers, not wanting to scare you. “we’re here.” 

you lift your head up to look around, and you can feel yourself relax when you look at the front door of your house. you unbuckle your seatbelt, and turn to look at the man in the driver's seat, who is chewing on his bottom lip watching your every move. 

“thank you for driving me home, colbs.” you smile, preparing to exit his car by grabbing your heels which you removed the second you sat in the seat and your bag. 

“any time, you know that.” he returns the smile, but a small sigh releases from his pink lips. “i’m really sorry for tonight, i honestly didn’t realise i was acting like a dick. can i make it up to you tomorrow, please?” 

“it’s okay, i mean it’s not okay,” you say, fiddling with your hands. “we needed that talk. how are you going to make it up to me?” you quiz with raised eyebrows and a small grin.

“movies with me all day tomorrow. i’ll pick you up around eleven and we can stop at the shop and grab snacks, and we can have a sleepover.” he looks at you with a glint of hopefulness, whilst he studies your face.

“sure, sounds good brock.” you beam, leaning over the console to engulf him with a hug. “i’m going to go inside now, text me when you get back to the house so i know you’re safe, please.” 

“i will do, now get out before you fall asleep in my car and i can’t get you out.” he winks, chuckling as you let out soft giggles and open the door. “message me when you have locked your door so i know you’re okay.” 

nodding, you gather your things, and exit his car. you begin to walk to your front door, before turning around and giving colby a little wave. he doesn’t move or take his eyes off you, until he sees that you have opened, entered and shut the door behind you. he waits a couple of seconds before his phone pings to say you’re okay, and that you’re off to bed. 

colby smiles, and turns his ignition on, and he begins the small route back to the house. your words from earlier play back in his head during the trip back to his house, and he can’t help but feel accountable for making you upset, so he is going to make sure he makes you feel so special during your time together tomorrow.

request here  

please give me feedback on this as it’s my first angst