#slaps hood of car these two can pack so much angst in them

[iszapizza]

Thinking of them

[simpleserendipity]

Wish you were here | Calum Hood

Pairing: Calum Hood x Reader (established relationship) Warning: angst, swearing, death, blood (very minor) Word count: 2,218 words

This was inspired by the song Wish you were here by Neck Deep

Saying that Calum Thomas Hood is your boyfriend is an understatement. He is your lover, your confidant, your teacher, your best friend, and your soulmate. Every day you’re left wondering how you could have found someone like him among all the people in the world. How someone so caring, smart, funny, handsome, and kind fell for you. It’s like he was made to be yours and you were made to be him, there was no one else for you two but each other. Your relationship rivaled only those of a fairytale.

You two had nothing but hopes and dreams for your lives together until the day it all changed. The day that you lost him. You were right beside him when the accident happened. You took months to recover but he was touch and go from the moment he was pulled from the wreck and didn’t even make it through the night. You didn’t even get to say goodbye because you were still under surgery, a life-saving surgery you needed to survive. Not that you would call this living because without him it’s surviving, not living. Realistically there wasn’t like there was much you could have done but you keep thinking maybe if we hadn’t argued 3 days earlier, maybe if you hadn’t insisted on going to the party, or maybe if you hadn’t been singing so loud. You just keep thinking maybe there was one thing you could have done. You know that it wasn’t your fault and it wasn’t Calum’s either so you didn’t understand why the world was so cruel. You knew it was the fault of the ice on the road and the driver who was speeding and spun out into your car. You couldn’t tell if it was guilt that you survived and he didn’t or if it was just the pain of losing him. You knew that if either of you should’ve survived you know it should’ve been him, you always knew that Calum was the light in a lot of people’s lives, especially yours.

You knew this day would come, where you had to pack up Calum’s house. It took you months to gather the courage to set a time with everyone to pack up the house because the idea of setting foot in this house without the possibility of seeing him, makes you sick.  After the accident, you took care of Duke but you still couldn’t go into the house, Luke having to bring Duke to your apartment. Now Duke is one of the only pieces of Calum you would have left. You haven’t slept this entire week in anticipation of this day. but you thought it would be under such different circumstances. You always pictured packing the house to move to your home. You always assumed this house would be packed up so you two could start your lives together in a shared space, not because he was gone. Now all you’re left with is pictures of his smile, videos of him laughing with you, memories of nights you spent together tangled in the sheets, talking and laughing. You have all of his things but nothing would matter if he wasn’t around to use them.

Now you had Calum’s best friends and his family here, helping you pack up the house. The worst part was having to explain that while they left the house to you and it would be one hell of an upgrade from your shoebox apartment, you couldn’t stay here. This big empty house was only a home because of who you shared it with, it would never be a home without him. You assigned each person to a room, you took his bedroom for yourself, wanting to savor each memory the room would bring up. You moved to the nightstand, picking up the framed photo of you two that he had put up. You remember being so surprised when you saw he framed a picture of you two for his bedside, he said he wanted to wake up to your face even if you weren’t with him.

“______?” A voice startled you and you dropped the picture frame, the corner hitting the floor. The frame broke and the glass shattered upon hitting the wood floor. You broke it, one of the sweetest memories you had of him.

“Shit,” You knelt to clean it up before looking back to see Ashton coming over to you, “What’s up?” You asked hurriedly, trying to clean the glass from the floor.

“Hey hey hey,” Ashton urges, kneeling beside you, “Wait a minute you’re gonna cut yourself on the glass.”

“It’s fine,” You reassure, your tone shaking and tears pricking your eyes, “Did you need something?” You sped up your motions.

“I just came to see how you’re doing.” Ashton places a hand on your shoulder.

You scoffed, “I’m fine. How are you?” You continued to scoop the glass up.

“______,” Ashton places a hand on yours, trying to get you to not worry about the glass anymore, “I’m serious. I know this must be hard for you.”

“Ashton, I’m fine.” You huffed, shaking his hand off yours, focusing on cleaning the glass again. You couldn’t help but feel guilty because everyone was walking on eggshells around you as if they didn’t lose their brother/son/best friend, “How are you? I know this is hard for you too.”

“It is hard,” Ashton agrees, “But I know it’s gotta be hardest for you.”

“And why would it be hardest for me? I mean his parents lost their son, Mali lost her brother, you guys lost your best friend and your fans lost their idol. Everyone lost a lot-”

Ashton cuts you off, “You lost your soulmate.”

Your breath hitches at the words and your hand slips, slicing your finger on the glass, “Shit.” You looked down at your finger which was bleeding.

“______, I told you to be careful,” Ashton shakes his head, “Go clean up and I’ll finish boxing up the room.”

You just nod. It doesn’t take you a second thought before you’re on your feel headed to the large bathroom. The bathroom was all dark tile which should be more intimidating but all you could think about is the mornings you spent, showering together, the nights in the bathtub, or getting ready to go somewhere together. You stop at the sink and rinse the blood away. The blood is an awful reminder of the worst night of your life. You keep rising until it’s all gone, letting out a shaky breath. You slowly crouch down to look in the cabinet where Calum kept the first aid kit. You had to shuffle through the random products under the sink, “Where the hell is it Calum?” You muttered to yourself, feeling your heart sink a little more when his name left your lips. You rummaged a little more until the white plastic first aid kit was found, you moved to shut the cabinet but a little black box tucked into the far corner catches your eye. You move to shut the cabinet, not wanting to snoop in his things before realizing that he couldn’t yell at you about snooping anymore. You huffed to yourself, “What were you hiding Hood?” You grasped the box. It was black crushed velvet, a jewelry box. You carefully flip it open like someone would walk in and catch you. It revealed a ring, a diamond ring in the center, and two colored stones, one on each side, his birthstone and yours. “This can’t be,” The tears you had been holding back all day finally came streaming, “Calum you’re a dick,” You said in hysterics, looking up to the sky, “You really did it. You listened to my idea for an engagement ring and fucking made it.” You couldn’t quite discern what you were feeling at this moment because while you thought you ought to be in tears, you couldn’t help but laugh instead. “You made my dream engagement ring, then I assume you were gonna propose then you went and fucking left me?” You were in full hysterics now, silent tears streaming while your mind was racing. You decided to pull it out and slip it on. The ring fits like a glove hurting you more than ever, “And it fits perfectly. Of course, it does.” You sit down with your back slumped against the bathtub, still in shock of the find.

You wanted nothing more than to walk out of this room, down the hall to his studio, and see him sitting at his computer. You wanted to slap the back of his head and chew him out for hiding this in such an easy-to-find spot but you couldn’t. You instead slipped the ring off and back into the box, just staring at it. Ashton’s knock at the door startles you, “You alright?” He asks as he slowly opens the door.

You shut the box and look at Ashton, “Did you know?”

He glances between your eyes and the box, “______…” He trails off, which in itself tells you that he knew.

“Did you know when?” You asked, the tears finally drying up, all feeling sucked out of you. You couldn’t even muster up enough emotion at this moment to continue crying, you were drained.

“Your birthday.”

“Birthday? Interesting.” You chuckled to yourself, letting your mind wander to what it would have been like. Your eyes stay latched on the box in your hands. 

“He loved you so much ______,” Ashton kneels to be eye level with you, “He always said you were the only one for him. How he wanted a life with you.”

You looked up at his words, never knowing that Calum spoke of you in such a way, “I didn’t know he told you those things…” You trailed off.

“I heard it all the time,” Ashton reaches up and brushes the single stray tear away, “How a life with you was all that he looked forward to, how he had such big plans for you two.”

“I would have given anything for that life with him.” You whisper.

“I know,” Ashton sighs, “Maybe you should call it a day.” He stands up. You take a moment to gain a little more composure, not wanting to break down again completely in front of everyone. There was enough of that at the hospital and the funeral. You didn’t think it would be very helpful to anyone if you broke down and caused others to break down.

“Can I take this?” You ask Ashton as you stand up. You guys stand facing each other.

“I think you should.” Ashton nods, “He wanted to give it to you but either way you should have it.”

You don’t know what comes over you but the next thing you know, you throw yourself into Ashton’s arms, “Thank you.” You two stand pressed together for a moment before you pull back.

“Of course,” He flashes a sad grin, “Maybe you should call it a day, you can come help again tomorrow. I can tell everyone you left.”

You open your mouth to protest but instead you agree, “You’re right. I bet Duke misses me at home so I should probably go.” You smiled softly.

“Of course,” Ashton’s grin seems more genuine than any smile you've seen from him recently, “Give him an extra treat from me.”

You nod before moving past him, tucking the ring box into your sweatshirt pocket. You see the picture from the frame resting on the bed and also tuck it into your pocket. You went down the hall, looking carefully at all the pictures on the wall. Your pictures from Europe, the one of him that you took and he framed because he said it was the best photo of him ever taken, that no photographer could ever compare. You smiled at the pictures of you two together on the walls, the pictures you took of Calum and Duke, and all the pictures of the guys, goofing off. You sighed before heading down the stairs thinking of the mornings you spent chasing Calum through the house or late nights coming up the stairs to see him. You luckily didn't pass anyone as you slipped out the front door. You went running down the driveway so eager to get to your car. You’ve never wanted to leave Calum’s home more than you did right now. You hop into the driver's seat, slamming the door behind you. Instead of pulling your keys from your pocket, you pull out the jewelry box and picture.

You open the jewelry box slowly, “You always knew exactly what I wanted,” You whispered as you slipped the ring onto your finger, “You always knew me so well.” You turned to the picture, stroking the curve of his face tenderly. 

Now you were still grasping at the fact that you had nothing but the pictures and the memories to remember him. Your fairytale ending wasn’t what you expected. You didn't get your prince charming sweeping you off your feet and running away with you. You couldn't help but think not all fairytales can have a happy ending, so maybe this wasn’t one of those happy fairytale moments. Calum would always be your prince charming though, even without the happily ever after. 

[adamfoolcry]

Troublesome (Part III)

part I, part II, part III (2) - coming soon

pairings: Maneater/Partygirl!Reader x BoyfriendMaterial!Jungwoo, Maneater/Partygirl!Reader x FirstLove!Hendery, BestCousin!Sicheng, Bestfriend!Lucas

pairings: 18+

warnings: consumption of alcohol, swearing, explicit language

genre: comedy maybe even a crackfic, smut, fluff, and a teeny tiny pinch of angst

summary: Your relationship with Jungwoo is moving fast except for one part, your sex life. You didn’t know you signed up for the nunnery when you agreed to dating him. Oh, and Lucas your best friend is transferring to Korea.

word count: 3,438

chinese slang: meimei = little sister, gege = older brother, baobei = baby

a/n: I always forgot I have this in my drafts nyways there is no smut here and jungwoo barely appears. Here is the third installment of my crackfic:Troublesome.

"Mèimei no you're not moving in with Jungwoo. Don't even try I won't ever allow you to." Sicheng's eyes were hard he was already set to stone. Yes, it is nice that you have finally decided to pursue a serious relationship since your first one but isn't living together too much of a stretch.

"As if that will stop me Gege. Go worry about your relationship I heard Jiwon is complaining about your lack of sex drive." You are already packing your things at your dorm when Sicheng stormed in with angry livid eyes going on and on about that moving in this early in a relationship is too fast. You have been dating Jungwoo for three months now and everything is going smoothly. Your ears are ringing from his sermon and Sicheng won't shut up.

"Shut your yap Sicheng gege! I know you care about me but if you won't support my decisions then get the fuck out of here." You shouted at him. Sicheng was so astonished it has been a while since you raised your voice at him. Jungwoo entered the room unaware of what's happening.

"Princess you finished? Oh Sicheng hyung why are you here?" Jungwoo looked at Sicheng confused. You would have never guessed what will happen next Sicheng have never been a person capable of hurting any living creature but he leaped at Jungwoo punching the other boy's cheek.

"How dare you Jungwoo! How can you tell her our boy talk? We swore an oath!" They both stumbled down to the ground Sicheng straddling Jungwoo's waist pulling his fist back for another punch aiming for Jungwoo's jaw.

"You don't know how powerful she is hyung." Jungwoo made a makeshift shield using his arms attempting to block Sicheng's upcoming punch.

"No gege! Not my baby's face don't ruin his face!" You shouted at Sicheng. Sicheng slowly put his fist down and got off Jungwoo's waist.

"Whatever do what you want to do mèimei. I am tired of taking care of you." Sicheng said resigned knowing he can never stop you because of how stubborn you are.

You quickly rushed to hug Sicheng from behind proclaiming your undying love for him. "I love you so much gege you know that right." Jungwoo stood up from where he is situated on the floor and joined the group hug, hugging Sicheng from the front.

"Get off me man." Sicheng said irritated. Jungwoo pried Sicheng out of your embrace and replace Sicheng's position circling his arms around you. You giggled at how silly Jungwoo is. He looked down at you and asked. "Why didn't you help me when Sicheng Hyung is beating me up?"

You looked at Jungwoo your eyes glinting with menace. "You two looked like the main characters of a BL series it's so hot."

Both men exclaimed mortified.

"Princess!"

"Mèimei!"

In the end, it was Sicheng and Jungwoo who did all the work packing up your things and moving it to Jungwoo's apartment while you order them left and right. Jungwoo was so tired that after setting up everything he fell to the bed out of exhaustion straight out of the shower. You pout beside him you have prepped yourself with your high-end lotion and even waxed your coochie one week prior to the move for the most-awaited sexy time but ever since Jungwoo asked you out, you two have never done it and he won't even let you see his dick. Yes, he was superb in fingering and eating you out but you're really high maintenance. Before this relationship, you go around the town thrice a week with different flavors. How can he neglect you like this? You shook his arm timidly.

He opened one of his eyes and turned his face sideways to smile at you. "What is it, Princess? Why are you grumpy?"

"Jungwoo why do you deprive me of your allegedly self-proclaimed big dick?" You pouted at him.

"Good things to those who wait Princess. Come here hug your baby. I am so tired we have to convert the other room into your walk-in closet because you own too many clothes." You snuggled beside him wrapping your arms around his chest.

"Why do you own so many Halloween costumes?" Jungwoo asked you confused.

"That's for roleplaying stupid." You rolled your eyes at him.

"Then why is there a guadatema onesie I don't think my dick will react to that." Jungwoo announced incredulously.

"That's my pajamas!" You slapped his chest.

Today is your fourth month anniversary and you are getting tired of Jungwoo not initiating sex. You can't take this anymore you have been practicing celibacy for four months now you didn't know you signed up for the nunnery when you got into this relationship. Jungwoo always looked so hot especially when shirtless yes he doesn't have a six-pack but he's lean and well-muscled and holy shit his v line coupled with his height. Every time you see him shirtless you are sure you like a dog with rabies salivating at the sight of him. You don't know if he is teasing or he is that oblivious. Sicheng called you and waved his hands up your face seeing that you are not listening to him anymore.

"Mèimei did you understand what I said?" Sicheng asked you.

"Yeah yeah." You brushed him off. "We will fetch Lucas at the airport next week. He will be transferring next sem at our university and will be staying at your apartment." It's not that you are not excited to see your bestfriend again but there are more pressing matters like you going crazy because of your nonexistent sex life.

"Gege did I gain weight?" You asked Sicheng to which he answered with a shake of his head.

"Did I become less attractive?" You asked him again.

"Mèimei what is this about? This is the first time you have been insecure." Sicheng asked you seriously.

"It-has-been-four-months-since-Jungwoo-and-I-started-dating-and-he-never-initiated-to-have-sex-with-me." You let it all out in one breath embarrassed that you are confiding to your older cousin. Sicheng laughed so hard that he was clutching his stomach.

"So ironic that you a man-eater choose a monk for a boyfriend." Sicheng continued laughing even clapping his hands looking like an overexcited seal.

The three of you are standing at the airport waiting for Lucas. You even prepared a poster for him your arms are getting tired of holding it up but you decided to endure it. Jungwoo hugged you from behind placing his head on your shoulder most likely bored from waiting for 45 minutes.

"Princess so tell me something about Lucas." Jungwoo asked out of curiosity.

"He is our giant baby. For context, he's taller than you. He is always full of energy and is such a sensitive soul despite his appearance." You look at Jungwoo listing Lucas' good points.

"Should I be worried it sounds like he's an old flame?" Jungwoo replied scrunching his eyebrows.

"Yeah he is but it didn't work out." Jungwoo looked at you shocked. You snickered he's so cute. You can't help but press a kiss on his cheek.

"You should actually be worried Jungwoo there was a time that even I feel like a third wheel whenever the three of us go out and that was after they decided to be just friends. The two of them are so alike.” Sicheng fueled Jungwoo's worries. Just as Sicheng finished his sentence you saw Lucas running towards the three of you leaving his luggage and sprinting in your direction.

"Baobei!" Lucas shouted opening his arms. You rushed towards him breaking free of Jungwoo's hug and letting your poster fall to the floor. You leaped onto his arms and he lifted you into the air, spinning you around your joyous laughter filling the place. To everyone else watching it's like a scene taken out of romance movies where the two lovers reunited again after having been separated for a long time even the crowd was taking pictures and videos because of the sweet encounter. Jungwoo's jaw almost fell to the floor. This gorgeous man is your bestfriend and also your ex-boyfriend he didn't know he signed up for more trouble when he asked you out.

Sicheng sighed "See what I mean. Don't even try to separate them tonight." Sicheng then proceeded to fetch Lucas' luggage pushing it towards the parking lot.

"Come on you three it's getting close to midnight." Sicheng shouted. Needless to say, Jungwoo went home to your shared apartment alone you decided to spend the night at Sicheng's he wanted to stay with you but you told him that you will be not sleeping and most likely visit a club or two with Lucas.

It was just like the old times when you and Lucas are younger after visiting a club, you two will drive around at the wee hours of the morning grabbing fast food and talking just about everything. It feels comfortable with him but this time neither of you are trying to fill a gap in each other’s hearts. Lucas parked Sicheng's car at a secluded parking lot with a beautiful view of the night sky. The two of you sitting on the hood of the car eating burgers and fries.

"So I heard from Winwin ge that you are in a serious relationship now with that guy Jungwoo." Lucas broke the comfortable silence looking at you his stare questioning.

"Yeah Yukhei can you believe it? and I am so happy. I like him a lot like a lot, a lot." You smiled at him and Lucas smiled back at you. This is Lucas' genuine smile, not the one he throws at potential one night stands he reserves it for his most cherished persons and that includes you.

"I see baobei then there are no questions needed." Lucas reached out and held your hand in his. You are so lucky to have Lucas who supports you unconditionally.

"What about you Yukhei? Tell me do you still pursue casual relationships?" You asked him.

"I actually stopped when you left me in Beijing to study here. With you and Sicheng gone I was so lost and sad. Sleeping with girls didn't help in fact it made me feel crappier so I decided to stop it altogether." Lucas confessed looking down as if he was ashamed of himself. You tried to comfort him leaning your head on his shoulder and drawing circles with your thumb at the back of his hand.

"Don't worry you're here now whenever you feel sad or disheartened just call me and I'll cross the high heavens and lowest depths of hell just to get to you." You poked his belly with your index finger.

"Don't make me cry baobei." You heard Lucas sniffling his tears.

"Even now you're still a big baby Yukhei." You laughed at him. The night sky is so beautiful and you have never felt this happy in a long time.

The next day Sicheng arranged a welcome dinner on behalf of Lucas of course the two of you are fashionably late. Sicheng, Jiwon, and Jungwoo are already at the restaurant waiting for you and Lucas to arrive. You made your entrance at the restaurant your arm looped with Lucas' facing each other talking animatedly and laughing. It was as if the two of you are in your own little bubble. When the two of you reached the table you went to where Jungwoo is and sat beside him. His arm automatically circling your waist as he press a kiss on the side of your head.

"Awww so sweet." Lucas teased you and Jungwoo. He was sitting on the opposite side besides Jiwon.

"You're just jelly Yukhei." You stuck your tongue out at him. Everyone laughed at your retort. The food arrived and the conversation was flowing steadily there was a continuous stream of laughter. Lucas using his charms threw a joke one after another paired with his comical facial expressions and broken english phrases. Sicheng and Jiwon bid goodbye first and left earlier the three of you stayed at the restaurant.

"By the way man did I tell you how I met ________?" Lucas started rubbing his palms together his lips forming an evil grin. You kicked Lucas under the table trying to stop him.

"So it goes like this I met _______ at a club she was having a catfight with another girl who is accusing _______ of sleeping with her boyfriend. They were clawing each other’s' face off basically it was chaos the crowd even formed a circle around them as if it was a live wrestling match betting on who's gonna win. Then-" Lucas stopped his narration and started laughing so hard wiping tears from the corner of his eyes. You started kicking him harder under the table.

"She puked at the other girl I swear everyone was so mortified. I even recorded it on my phone. _______ went viral and was banned at that club." Lucas continued laughing you quickly got of your seat and placed your hands around Lucas' neck intending to choke him. Jungwoo had to pry you off Lucas to make you stop. Lucas was coughing so hard.

"What was that for baobei?" Lucas started rubbing the part where you nearly asphyxiated him a handprint evident on the skin of his neck."Seriously man how do you deal with her?" Lucas asked Jungwoo while trying to clear his throat. Jungwoo just shrugged and looked at you lovingly.

You decided that if Jungwoo won't take matters into his hand you will have to seduce him. You pampered yourself with your one hour self-care routine and wore your white off-shoulder dress showing just the right amount of cleavage that makes you look like a greek goddess.

Jungwoo just got off work from where he was interning at and he just wants to end the day by cuddling you on the bed before going to sleep. When he entered the apartment door he was surprised to see you waiting for him, dressed up so prettily. He smiled he was so lucky to have you.

"Princess you look like an angel." Jungwoo said admiring you.

"You look like a CEO, who fucks his secretary." Did he hear you right? Jungwoo was shocked as you made your way to him like a predator hunting its prey. He was in trance it was as if someone glued him to that spot as he watches the subtle sway of your hips as walk you towards him.

"I can be your secretary." You look up at him sultrily, pushing him against the closed apartment door as you kiss him deeply. You got so impatient to touch his bare skin so you work on untucking his white polo from his slacks. Your greedy little hands roaming under his shirt heating up his skin. Jungwoo pulled your bare thighs around his waist carrying you to the kitchen. He placed you on top of the counter and you pulled him closer wanting to feel his growing bulge against your core. Jungwoo broke the kiss placing his forehead on yours.

"Princess, what brought this on?" He asked breathless tucking some stray strands of hair behind your ears.

"Just because. Do I need a reason to kiss my boyfriend?" You asked him as you press a short kiss to his lips. You started pressing kisses on his jaw at the same time palming his hardening cock. "I want you to fuck me Jungwoo." You stated boldly and Jungwoo moaned closing his eyes in pleasure.

"Princess stop please." Jungwoo placed his forehead on your shoulder trying to control his desire. Your body instantly went cold you can't believe what you have heard. You slid down the counter and Jungwoo reached out to hold your wrist but you moved your hand away.

"Are you disgusted with me Jungwoo? Is that why you don't want to have sex with me? Cause I've been sleeping around before our relationship." You accused him livid; hurt pouring out with every syllable.

"Princess I would never be dis-" You didn't let him finish you turned and walked away from him heading towards the door.

"Princess don't leave let me-" That was the last word you heard from him slamming the door closed at your shared apartment. You ran as fast as you can to the elevator. You drove to Sicheng's place where he and Lucas were having a movie marathon. You stormed to the sofa where they are sitting. Sicheng and Lucas already know that you are in a bad mood just by the sour look on your face.

"Oh oww someone's in her period." Lucas teased you.

"You two go get dressed we're gonna fvcking drink our ass off." They were left with no choice knowing not to oppose you when you get into one of these moods or else you will throw the biggest tantrum that will be the cause of complaint filed by Sicheng's neighbors against him.

Three Jack Daniel's later and an assortment of cocktail drinks littered on the table you are occupying the three of you are utterly and devastatingly wasted. Even Sicheng who has the highest alcohol tolerance is starting to giggle at every little thing you and Lucas are saying.

"Jungwooss thinkss thad I have STDs he dont wanna banggg mee someboddy hang me." You say in a slur. "I am the most top one pretty." Sicheng just giggled again in response.

"Nahhhh you using condomms right? We the advocates of safe sexxx." Lucas shouted the last sentence catching the attention of other bar-goers. Sicheng dialed Jiwon's cell.

"Babbbbyyy I am soo drunkk!" Sicheng can't help but giggle on the phone. Jiwon asked where he is concerned about Sicheng's state of drunkness. After making fun of yourselves for another fifteen minutes Jungwoo came to the rescue before the three of you could make any more scene. Jungwoo attended to you first kneeling so that he'll be at your eye level trying to gauge how far off drunk are you. Your vision is blurry but still seeing him concerned for you makes you forget about the fight you had earlier.

"Hey Handsome why are you here?" You smiled and proceeded to caress his cheek with your fingers.

"I am looking for my girlfriend. She's mad at me -" Jungwoo seized your hand with his pressing his cheek further into your palms looking at you pleading eyes." and I already miss her."

"Take me away then." You throw your arms at Jungwoo's shoulders.

Jungwoo started carrying you in a bridal position. You circled your arms around his neck and leaned all your weight to him causing Jungwoo to almost lose his balance. "Princess don't do that we'll fall if you do that again." You burrowed your head deeper to his neck littering kisses at the juncture where it meets his collarbone. Lucas who was mostly talking to himself and shouting at no one saw that you are being taken away. In his drunkness he didn't recognized that it was Jungwoo and thought you are being kidnapped. He forced himself to catch up with Jungwoo walking in long strides almost slipping a few times due to his dizziness he pulled at Jungwoo's shoulder strong enough to make Jungwoo face him with you slumping in Jungwoo's arms.

"Hey Pervert! Where are you taking Baobei? You have to go through me first." Lucas took a deep breath dramatically as if gathering strength and got into a fighting stance like Bruce lee boucing on the balls of his feet, flinging his arms periodically jabbing into nothing.

"Yukhei my luvvvvv save me from this godawful creature." You dramatically put the back of your hand at your forehead speaking in a theatrical voice playing along with Lucas' delusions.

"Baobei I am coming I'll-" Lucas shouted attracting the crowd's attention. Jungwoo interrupted him before he makes an even bigger scene. "Lucas man, it's Jungwoo. _________'s boyfriend."

"Oh" Lucas was suddenly dumbfounded. "Hi, man nice to meet you I am Yukhei but you can call me Lucas. I am _______'s bestfriend." Lucas scratched his head and smiled sheepishly before passing out on the floor. Jungwoo sighed with Sicheng giggling by himself at the table like he was exposed to some substance to Lucas passed out on the floor he didn't know that liking you would be so troublesome. Jungwoo looked at you in his arms as you scrunch your nose in drunken slumber. Even when you reek of alcohol he found you endearing.

"You're so lucky Princess that I like you a lot." He said as he kissed your scrunched up nose

a/n: Check out my other works for NCT here:masterlist.

part III (2): It was a peaceful morning until someone shrieked so loud that even the neighbors occupying the other units was startled. It was Sicheng who produced that godawful noise finding that he is naked in bed with none other than Lucas who was equally as naked as him sprawled at the other half of the bed. Lucas drowsily opened his eyes seeing Sicheng on the other side of the bed clutching the bed sheets at his chest looking as if someone has harrased him. He looked down and saw that he was only in his underwear and also screamed his lungs out despite having a deeper voice it was as if some girls were having a screaming contest. "What did you to me Winwin ge?" Lucas asked horrified. "What do you mean? I should ask you that I woke up with no clothes on?" Sicheng pointed at him accusingly. "Did we-" Lucas swallowed and looked at everywhere but at Sicheng.

[roscoe-dream]

End of the Line [ 2 ] || Stiles Stilinski

A/N: part two is here! there isn’t much stiles present in this until the end because.. he’s erased.. rip.. but I hope you read it still! STYDIA turned STILESxREADER. Some other scenes are changed around too. italicized text are memories.

word count: 8,239

WARNINGS: lots of angst and tears! but your heart will be mended at the end.

Inspired by this song and this song. Highly recommended you listen on repeat while reading!

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ [ Part One ]

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀* * *

You couldn’t tell if the reason the aching was due to your heart cracking in two or not, but you didn’t give it much thought as tears rolled down your cheeks. As you stood in front of the pack, your eyes darted over each one of their solemn faces that stared back at you. Your mouth was agape, opening and closing like a fish out of water as you tried to form a sentence. But you couldn’t, your body was frozen in place as you tried to process the utter betrayal of your friends.

‘Stiles can’t be her son.’

Lydia’s voice echoed through your ears, the words tumbling from her lips in defeat. You refused to believe them, though. From the night you woke up gasping for breath, the name ‘Stiles’ being the only thing you said, you refused to believe that he wasn’t real.

“We-” You stammered, bottom lip quivering as you locked gazes with the leader of the pack. “We have to keep looking for him. We have to keep looking for Stiles.”

Scott’s face fell, his heart aching as he watched his best friend break over someone none of you could remember. Although he was silent, it spoke volume to you. “What about a relic?” You tried, eyes darting to both Malia and Lydia desperately. The strawberry blonde sighed, her hand grabbing onto the wrist that was roughly handled not too long ago. “There’s no relic of Stiles-”

“We don’t know that!” You shouted at her, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth and looking down at your shuffling feet to avoid their bewildered gazes.

Malia’s blunt voice was next to speak, “It doesn’t even sound like a real name.” She scoffed, her arms crossing over her chest while glancing over to the other two wary teens. “We’re fighting the wrong battle, Y/N.”

Your vision grew blurry with tears, and while you tried your best to make sure they didn’t fall, a few escaped in the process. “We’re trying to bring Stiles back.” Your voice was weak. The thought of your best friends abandoning someone so easily made your heart ache. “He’s out there, and we need to help him. We need to-”

“Enough!” The alpha’s voice suddenly boomed, making your heart stutter. You stared at him with bulging eyes, jaw dropped in shock at the volume of his voice. “The ghost riders are back, and we have no way of stopping them.” Scott spoke sternly, his eyes narrowed at you. “And whatever they are, they’re real. We can’t keep chasing after someone who isn’t.”

Malia instantly agreed with him, her head bobbing up and down. “We have to move on. He didn’t leave anything behind.” She said, the pair of them turning away from you and making their way towards the exit of the hospital. When you looked to Lydia with your bloodshot eyes and wet, flushed cheeks, your bottom lip began to quiver again.

“The only thing he left behind, was me.”

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀* * *

Your fingers massaged your temples in attempt to soothe another one of the piercing headaches you’ve been getting since a couple weeks ago. You knew it had to deal with Stiles, it was the only explanation. For the past three months, up until a couple weeks ago, you never thought of a Stiles or felt as empty as you did now without him.

“Why don’t they believe me?” You croaked, letting your tear stained face fall into your hands as your shoulders raked with sobs. They didn’t stop, even when Lydia placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. “He’s real, Lyd. I know it.”

“I believe you.”

Your hair stuck to your stained cheeks as your head to snap up to her direction. “After everything we’ve been through, I believe you.” Her words were soft, but sincere, and it was all you needed to pull her into an embrace you so desperately needed. You two held each other in silence, and you thought back of the event that took place a few days ago with the pack at the hospital — of them giving up on Stiles. Lydia pulled away when the shrill sound of the bell rang throughout the hallway, her hands coming up to your face to wipe at your cheeks and fix your makeup. “Let’s get to class.”

“Stiles, seriously, I need to get to class!”

Your laughter was loud as it bounced off the walls of the hallway. It was empty, just you and Stiles in it as he grabbed a hold of your wrist tans tugged you close to his body. Whipping around to face him, your laughter died down as you stared into his whiskey eyes, your lips curled into a soft smile.

“You have a bathroom pass, you’re okay to stay here for a few more minutes.” He assured, his bottom lip jutting out into a little pout to persuade you. With a playful roll of your eyes, and a cheesy smile, you sat back down on the stairwell.

“Okay, Stilinski, but you’re the one failing history. Not me.”

And once again, your giggles could be heard throughout the empty hallway as you watched your hazel eyed best friend do a victory cheer.

You inhaled sharply at the sudden ache to your head, a whimper leaving your lips as you squeezed your eyes shut. You haven’t felt a pain like that for a few days, why is it starting again now?

Ignoring Lydia’s lingering concern, you adjusted the strap of your bag and quickly scurried off to AP Biology. Fortunately, you shared that class with Lydia, but you also shared it with Scott. Your bag made a small clattering sound when you plopped down in your assigned stool, your head falling into your folded arms. Your position stayed this way for pretty much majority of class, up until you felt a nudge to your side. Pulling your head from your arms, you turned to look at Lydia with furrowed brows, lips parting to ask what was wrong before she silently pointed outside the window.

Slowly following her gaze, you stared straight at what appeared to be an abandoned powder blue jeep.

“What if we gave it a paint job?”

You asked aloud as you leaned down to soak the large sponge in your hand with water from a bucket by your feet. Plopping it onto the hood of Stiles’ jeep, you bit back a smile after glancing at the spastic boy’s bewildered expression.

“No!” He gasped, sounded deeply offended. “I love this jeep. Rust, dents, and all. Plus, it was my mom’s and she never changed the color.”

Your lips pulled into a frown at his words, loosening your grip on the sponge and let it sit on the hood of the jeep, rounding the front of the vehicle to meet Stiles on the other side. “I’m not saying we change it, Sti, just.. make it look nicer. It’s like the homeless person of cars!”

You fell into a fit of laughter at his horrified expression, not missing the ghost of a smile he held on his freckled face.

“That’s it, you’re walking home!”

Your eyes grew wildly as you continued to study the jeep, ignoring the stinging to your skull as you turned to face Lydia, shaking her out of the daze you found yourself in seconds before. She quickly blinked back to reality, her eyes eagerly searching your own. “We need to get to that jeep.” You whispered, watching as her strawberry blonde hair swayed with the bobs of her head. She opened her mouth to speak, but was very soon interrupted by another voice.

“Ladies, is there something outside that’s more fascinating than the structure of the human mind?”

“No.”

“I don’t think so.”

You grimaced at the woman’s pointed gaze at your answer, quickly giving her an apologetic smile before she turned back to the rest of the class. As soon as her attention was off the pair of you, your eyes traveled back to the rusty jeep in the parking lot. “Now, many people credit the corpus callosum for giving us sense of intuition, gut instinct, even we ourselves aren’t aware-”

Her lecture was cut short by the screeching of stools. The sound made the class of teens divert their attention from the biology teacher to you and Lydia, who were looking around with a similar absent look in your eyes. You opened your mouth to speak, but no words came out, only tears forming in your waterline. Thankfully, the teacher noticed, and with a labored sigh, she nodded towards the door. You quickly exited the classroom, faintly hearing an ‘I’ll be right back’ from Lydia and an ‘I’m going to go check on her’ from Scott. Your swift pace didn’t slow at the sound of another pair of clacking heels and thudding footsteps. Pushing past the school doors, you ran towards the man attaching his tow hook to the front of the jeep.

“Hey, wait!”

The man turned in your direction, an eyebrow raised with curiosity at your frantic behavior. “You can’t tow this jeep.” You spoke between pants, looking behind you to see Scott and Lydia walking up to your sides.

“Paperwork says I can. It’s been reported as abandoned.”

Your eyes rolled, and you pushed past the man to slap a hand on the hood of the vehicle, eyes narrowed up on his taller figure. “There. Now it’s not.”

The man opened his mouth to protest, but with the menacing glare Scott was giving him, he unclasped the hook from the hood of the car, and pulled out of the parking lot. The three of you looked between each other, clearly stumped as to why you went out of your way to stop the tow man. “Well, now we have a jeep- Scott, you okay?”

The teenager had his head cocked to the side, eyes squinting in concentration as he slowly walked towards the door of the jeep. You took a step back, too curious to interrupt what Scott was doing.

“There you guys are!”

All three heads snapped towards Malia, who’s dark brown eyes were eyeing the jeep intensely. “You heard it too?” Scott asked, pulling his face away from the window of the jeep. “It’s coming from inside.”

“Break it.” Lydia ordered, stepping closer to the group, “The jeep’s abandoned anyway, nobody’s going to say anything. Break it.”

Scott hesitantly nodded at her insisting, guiding the three of you away before smashing the driver’s side window. The ringing sound that the two werewolves could only hear grew, making it loud enough for you and Lydia to hear as well. “Is that a radio?” You asked, stepping forward to peek inside the jeep to find a police scanner installed into the vehicle. The four of you swiftly shuffled into the jeep, eyes locked on the device that kept its consistent ringing noise.

Then suddenly, it stopped.

And honestly, it felt like your heart might’ve too.

“Why’d it stop?” asked Lydia.

“It doesn’t matter,” you sighed, reaching out for the glowing on/off switch to shut it down. From the passenger seat, you turned to look back at Scott, who held that same perplexed expression from outside the jeep. “What? Did you catch a scent?”

Both teen wolves nodded at this, their noses twitching while they inhaled deeply. You were soon met with Scott’s dark eyes, confusion swirling in them. “Yeah, uh..” He shook his head in disbelief, eyeing each person inside. “Mine. Lydia’s, Malia’s. Yours.”

“Especially yours.” Malia added, slouching in her seat with scrunched brows before asking, “But how? I’ve never been in this jeep before.”

“Neither have I.” Scott said, propping his elbows on the back of the two fronts seats. You turned to face Lydia, who’s lips were twitching into a small smile. “Yes, we have.” She said quietly, and you were quick to catch on. “We just don’t remember it.” You finished quickly, your eyes searching both Scott and Malia’s desperately.

“I thought we were done with that.” Malia deadpanned, glaring at Lydia for getting you riled up again. The three of them continued their quarrel while you let yourself grow distant, a faint ringing in your ear that grew louder instantaneously.

The grip he had on your face readjusted as he licked his lips nervously. "Remember... Remember that I've been in love with you since the beginning of our friendship, and that I didn't even realize until middle school." He chuckled humorlessly, swiping at the few stray tears that sprung from your eyes.

You shook your head in his hold, the faint memories of your blossoming friendship since diapers flashing before your eyes. "Stiles." You wailed, sucking your bottom lip into your mouth to silence your cries.

The boy's eyes flickered past you, his heart stopping at the sight of a Ghost Rider just outside your window. He released a steady breath, leaning into your face.

"And remember this."

“Y/N!” You heard Lydia shout, pulling you out of your trance-like state. You sniffled, glazed eyes looking to hers before letting them wander to the rest of the group’s concerned stares. “I’m sorry I, uh, was just thinking of something. I’m sorry.” Your words were rushed before you bowed your head down to avoid anymore prying eyes.

“We found an address..” Lydia said gently, almost as if she were to speak any louder, you would break. “It’s 129 Woodbine Lane.”

Exhaling slowly, you lifted your head up, a small sound of disbelief tumbling from your lips. “That’s the Sheriff’s house.”

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀* * *

“Girls, is this about Stiles again?” The Sheriff’s voice was stern as he looked between you and Lydia from across.

When you announced that the address was home to the Sheriff and Claudia, you and Lydia booked it to her car, rendering both Malia and Scott speechless. After being there for about fifteen minutes interrogating them about their apparently ‘stolen’ jeep, the two adults eventually caught on to your persistence. “Y/N,” Claudia called out to you, a soft, yet worried smile on her face. “Don’t you think it’s time to let this go? Talk to somebody about this?” She asked, shifting her attention onto Lydia as well. “Maybe it’s a good time to talk to your mothers about this..”

You stared at her blankly, worried that if you thought about nobody understanding what you and Lydia did in the slightest, that you’ll break. That you wouldn’t be able to put yourself back together this time.

“I’m sorry, you’re right.” Lydia said, collecting her things from the floor before she stood up from the lounge chair. The three of them conversed a bit longer, but it was all just background noise to you. You were too lost in your head to notice them make subtle glances towards you. Suddenly, you stood up, alarming both Claudia and the Sheriff. You could feel your hands shaking, so you held them, twiddling your thumbs rapidly. “Do you mind if I-” You choked out, resulting to just nodding your head in the direction of their restroom. Once granted permission, you rushed to the hallway, not caring that the three awaiting bodies could hear your pained cries. Your grip on your bag faltered, and you let it drop onto the floor. You stared at the wallpaper that Lydia had told you about peeling, and you found yourself gently rubbing the paper. Pressing your back to the very same wall, you slid down the wall with your head in your hands.

But what you didn’t know, was that the teenage boy with the unforgettable whiskey eyes was doing the very same thing.

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀* * *

As you sat in the driver’s seat of the rusted blue jeep, you let out a wince while your stomach churned, unable to fathom the familiarity the vehicle brought you. You just couldn’t remember where it came from. You sat there in silence with Lydia, waiting for Scott and Malia to return from wherever they ran off to after hearing a faint roaring in the distance.

“We’re gonna bring him back, you know.” Lydia’s voice broke the silence, attempting to ease your visibly distraught state. Although it didn’t work, you appreciated the effort. “How are we going to do that when we’re the only two people who believe he’s even real?” You asked, your eyes begging for an answer from your best friend even though she was unable to give you one. Just when Lydia’s jaw dropped to speak, footsteps approached you both quickly. You looked over to find a huffing Scott, his right hand clutched around something as he stopped by your window. “Where’s Malia?” You asked, looking past Scott briefly to see if she would turn up, but didn’t. “The roar,” Scott panted, eyes squinting as he recalled the previous event. “It was Peter’s. Peter Hale’s. H-He got out from where the Ghost Riders are keeping people, and he gave me this.”

Before you could ask more questions, a set of keys were in front of your face, hanging off of Scott’s index finger. You eagerly snatched the set from him, looking over them while Lydia climbed into the back seat for Scott to sit in the passenger. Giving the two of them another glance, you slid the key into it’s ignition, a laugh falling from your lips when it was a perfect fit. Turning the key, you heard the engine begin to roar to life, making a smile appear on your lips. Not soon after, there was a loud clunking noise, before the engine died down. “God! Stupid thing..” You grumbled, turning the key again while pressing down on the gas.

“Don’t flood it.” Scott warned, making Lydia cock her head at him with raised brows. “Do you even know what that means?” She asked, chuckling as Scott looked at her with a pained face. While the two engulfed themselves into a small bickering match, you managed to start the car, a squeak of excitement coming from you as you watched the lights inside the car come to life.

“Hello?”

The voice was faint behind the static being from the police scanner, but that was all it took for your heart to skip a beat or two. “Guys..” You mumbled, voice going unheard by Scott and Lydia as they continued their argument. “You guys!” You shouted, eyes looking between the two of them when they silenced, huffing out a breath before gesturing to the active police scanner. “Listen.”

“Hello? Is anyone there? Can anyone hear me?”

And just like your own, both the boy and girl’s eyes grew to the size of saucers. Scott barely hesitated, snatching up the mic and putting it to his lips. “Stiles?” He asked tentatively, like he was waiting to be wrong. When the name fell from Scott’s lips, your body went rigid. The possibility of Scott actually believing you now made your eyes well up with tears, a hand reaching up over your mouth. You watched as Lydia grabbed the mic and put it to her own lips, “Stiles, is that you?”

The silence between the three of you was agonizing, the only thing you could do was wait for the familiar voice to ring through again.

And then it did.

“Scott, Lydia, is that you?”

The gasp you let out was muffled behind your hand, the tears in your eyes trickling down your face while you stared at your two best friends in awe. This was real. Stiles was real, and he’s alive.

“Oh my god, Stiles.” Lydia wailed, a tearful smile jerking at her lips along with Scott. “We can hear you.” He confirmed, making a glance at you before looking back at the small wired mic.

“Oh my god, you know me? You-you remember me?” Stiles asked, his tone showing evident disbelief. “Okay, okay, um.. Where’s Y/N? Is she there?”

Your eyes fell from Scott’s to the handheld device, only to look back to him. He gave you an encouraging nod, giving you the mic and staring with Lydia as you held it to your lips, asking quietly, “Stiles, is this.. is this really you?”

From the other line, you heard a slow breath of relief come from the radio. “Yeah, listen to me.. Do you remember the last thing I said to you?”

Your mouth fell agape, looking to the mic as if it had all the answers, while Scott and Lydia stared, expecting one from you.

“Remember… Remember that I’ve been in love with you since the beginning of our friendship, and that I didn’t even realize until middle school.”

Your eyes closed briefly, the blurry memory growing clear as your face scrunched up in concentration. Then it hit you. Moments before Stiles was taken. His love for you. And the kiss. Putting your lips back up to the mic, you spoke breathlessly. “You said.. You said ‘remember I’ve been in love with you, since the beginning.’ and then-” your bottom lip was worried between your teeth, a small sob escaping you. “And then you kissed me.” The words came out weakly, tears rolling down your face just as much as the night he was taken, but that was the only thing you knew from the distant memory. Scott took the microphone from you, knowing that you wouldn’t be able to talk in the state that you were in. “Where are you? We’re coming to find you.” Scott asked hurriedly, knowing that his best friend was out there was putting him on edge.

“No, no. You can’t. You won’t be able to find me.”

He sounded so defeated through the radio, and god, did it break you. You thought that him talking to the three of you might be doing more harm than good to you right now. What if you wouldn’t be able to get him out?

“Stiles, what’re you talking about? Just.. Just tell us where you are and we’ll come, we’ll come.” Scott pleaded into the mic, eyes filling to the brim with salty tears, same as yours. In the distance, you could hear loud rustling from Stiles’ end, making you involuntarily lean towards the mic. “Just, just remember this. Canaan, okay? Remember Canaan.” His voice sounded panicked, and the rustling only grew louder. Stiles was in danger. Ripping the device from the tan boy’s hands, you cried into the mic, “No wait, Stiles, don’t go! Stiles!”

You were too late.

He was gone.

But, you were determined to bring him back.

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀* * *

You looked between your pack in the dinning room of the McCall house, you felt as though you were stuck right at the beginning. Scott face was blotted with tears, his cheeks glistening underneath the light as he stared blankly ahead, repeatedly calling a disconnected phone number.

Your attempt to get Sheriff Stilinski on your side after hearing Stiles through the radio fell straight through, as he shot you, Scott, and Lydia down almost instantly. After looking through the underground tunnels, you managed to find a riff, but it was destroyed by the hellhound — who was being controlled by a supernatural Nazi from 1943. You could almost relate to how Stiles felt right now — uou were stuck, and you didn’t know what the next step was or if it was even worth it.

Lydia was the first one to break the fifteen minutes of silence. “Scott,” She sighed, placing her hand over the cellphone in the tan boy’s hand, slowly easing it down onto the table. “Your mom’s gone, but she’s still alive.”

“What do we do now?” asked Malia, her dark eyes looking to the three of you expectantly. She was never really one to follow rules or plans, but this was different — it was all you had left.

“We can’t hide from them.” You murmured, looking to your fingernails as you picked at them to avoid eye contact. “What about Lydia? The Ghost Rider was scared of her.” Malia pointed out, making you sigh and simply shake your head at her.

“No, it wasn’t fear. It was more like.. reverence.” Lydia said.

“It doesn’t matter!” You snapped, the weight in your heart only seeming to grow heavier with each breath you took. “The rift is gone. We’re the only ones left.”

Then it was silent.

Until it wasn’t.

The backdoor of the McCall house opened abruptly, creaking as Sheriff Stilinski stepped through. His light eyes looked to each of you while you stared back at him, confusion clear in the four of you.

“I have a son.”

And that was all it took for your hope to be restored.

Looking up at the older man with glossy eyes, your expression mimicked the three of your friends — hope and confusion.

“His name is Mieczyslaw Stilinski. But we called him Stiles.” Noah’s eyes drifted to yours, an apologetic smile gracing his features before he cleared his throat. “I remember.. when Stiles was a little kid, he couldn’t say his first name. Not sure why, it pretty much rolls of the tongue. But, uh, the closest he could get, was ‘mischief.’” This time, the Sheriff’s eye’s drifted to Lydia, who was giving him a tight lipped smile to match with her green eyes.

The man pursed his lips, a dry chuckle rumbling from his chest as he looked to the four teenagers. “I remember when, uh.. Stiles first got his jeep. It belonged to his mother, she wanted him to have it. The first time he took it for a spin behind the wheel, he went straight into a ditch. I gave him his first roll of duck tape that day.” His lips curled into a smile as he thought back on the memory, and you couldn’t help but do the same because finally you could see it — you could see the end of the line. “We’re here tonight because my goofball son decided Scott and Y/N, two of his greatest friends in the world, into the woods to see a dead body.”

You blinked up at him, your jaw slacked while you tried to form a simple sentence in your head. “How.. How did you remember?” You asked, blown away at his ability to remember someone he so blatantly told you didn’t exist. Noah nodded towards Lydia, and you quickly whipped your head around with a watery grin on your face. “It started with Stiles’ jersey. Then I found the red string for his crime board. Finally, his whole room came back and all the memories.”

“Then the strangest thing happened.” The Sheriff scoffed, looking to Scott when his eyes furrowed curiously. “I thought I saw him.. Something opened, right in the middle of the room, just for a moment. Then it was gone.”

“A rift.” You mumbled, eyes growing in realization as you looked to the group. “I thought there was only one left? We saw it disappear.” Malia asked, referring to the portal that was now destroyed by Parrish — in his hellhound form. “You remembered Stiles, and that opened a new rift.” Lydia pieced together, pointing to Sheriff Stilinski who looked among you all with a lost look on his face.

Scott bowed his head, the ends of his lips twitching into a smile. “If the Sheriff can do it.. maybe we can too.” He proposed, looking to you with hopeful eyes. You grabbed ahold of his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze and nodding to him. “The rift closed, but we can open it again.”

“How?” asked Malia.

“By remembering Stiles.” You said firmly, “we have to remember everything.”

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀* * *

“How will we know when it’s working?”

Your question was muffled behind your fingers, your teeth gnawing on the nails and turning your skin soft. Lydia looked over her shoulder at you, eyes narrowed with pursed lips, and you immediately shut your mouth. You were in the Argent bunker, watching a locked Scott McCall travel through his own mind in some sort of cooling machine.

With Malia and Lydia on your side, you watched a Scott stood still with seeled eyes, waiting for further instructions from Lydia. “This isn’t working..” Lydia whined, her voice wobbling with panic as her eyes grew at the way Scott thrashed around in the machine. “You said he needs an emotional connection, right? Like what the Sheriff did?” Malia asked, stepping closer to Lydia who was pacing on the other end of the room. The strawberry blonde nodded, looking to the taller girl with glazed eyes. “He wasn’t just remembering someone, he was remembering his son. His family.”

“Whatcha thinkin’ about, Stilinski?” You asked, crawling your way between him and the McCall boy as you all laid on the floor of his cluttered bedroom. Both of the boys shifted about on Stiles’ floor, making room for you before cozying up again.

“I don’t know, I just.. I don’t know.” The whiskey eye boy sighed, his tongue darting over his lips as he stared at the ceiling. You looked over to him, brows raised in concern as he struggled to find the words. With your bottom lip worried between your teeth, you let your closest hand reach out for his, giving it a small squeeze of reassurance which he returned almost immediately.

“It’s just.. ever since my mom died, and my dad being in the station majority of the time,” He mumbled, exhaling shakily before sitting up from his position. You and Scott both mocked him, sitting up with crossed legs in a small circle to see each other. “You two are my best friends, you know? You’re all I have left. Besides my dad, but he doesn’t risk his life nearly as much as we do and-” He paused, his eyes filling with tears that caused your own to prick with them. Looking to Scott, you watched as a small teardrop rolled down his tan cheek.

“I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if something happened to either one of you. You’re family.”

“Scott!” You called out to the boy, gently tapping on the glass window of the machine in attempt to catch his attention. “Listen, I remember something. During our junior year we were with Stiles, okay? And-and he was talking about how.. how after his mom died, we were all he had left.” Your eyes welled up with tears, blocking your vision. You sniffled, not caring if the tears shed or not.

“He said that he wouldn’t know what he would do with himself if he lost one of us, that we’re family. But he’s lost right now, Scott. He’s lost and we need to remember him, we need to remember our family and find him.”

Your words seemed to strike a cord with the alpha, his thrashing stopped and he was mumbling things underneath his breath. But it stopped, and as soon as it did there was a deep rumbling sound, causing you and the girls to jump and stare at the flashing light coming from the window. As soon as it appeared, it vanished, and was replaced with a loud beeping sound coming from the machine. You were quick to act, pulling Scott out of it. Malia rushed over with a blanket she found lounging around and guided him to sit as you glanced at him.

“It was working, why’d you pull me out?” Scott asked incredulously, eyes bulging as he looked between the you and Malia. “You were going to die in there.” You said simply, catching a glimpse of Lydia who was already staring at you.

“How do you get Scott to do that?” She asked, tone almost accusing, as if she were piecing together some sort of puzzle.

You blinked at her, eyebrows scrunched together as you thought of the now distant memory. “When, uh, when you and Malia were talking about family, it triggered a memory of Stiles.” You mumbled, but it was loud enough for everyone in the room to hear. “For the past few weeks, I would get these headaches.. and whenever the headaches came, so did the memories of Stiles. As soon as I remember though, it gets blurry ��� I forget. But I know they’re from him.”

You never looked up from your locked gaze on the floor, but when you did, you were met with three stunned stares.

“It’s you..” Lydia said quietly, her heels clacking faintly on the concrete floor as she made her way towards you. She grabbed ahold of your wrists, her sea foam green eyes boring into your own. “It’s all about connection, and you’ve had one with Stiles since the Ghost Riders took him.”

“It’s true.” Scott agreed, his teeth chattering slightly while he cuddled into the blanket around his shoulders. “When I was remembering him, I was also remembering the two of you together. I would also tease him for making it so obvious,” he chuckled, staring off distantly before he locked eyes with you. “Nobody had a connection like you two.”

You were speechless, staring between the three of your best friends with soaked cheeks. “Okay.. okay, so, what do we do?”

Just as you spoke the words of agreement, smiles appeared on their faces, which only made you mirror them. “We have to do it the old fashioned way.” Lydia stated, grabbing ahold of your shoulders and guiding you to an empty stool propped up next to the metal table. “We’re going to have to actually hypnotize you.”

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀* * *

You were in a classroom. A single desk occupied by you whilst you sat in front of a television, a remote settled on the wooden desk by your right hand. As you looked around cautiously, a ghost of a smile appeared, genuinely excited about the fact that you were actually hypnotized.

“Weird..” You whispered, your eyes darting around the empty classroom and to the television that displayed a static channel.

“Y/N? Are you in the classroom? Do you see the TV and remote?” Lydia’s voice echoed throughout the room, causing you to jump slightly in your seat. Your focus drifted to the remote, picking it up and inspecting it. “Yeah.. Yeah, I’m here.”

“Good. Now, the remote gives you access to all of your memories. Find the memories of Stiles.” Lydia’s voice directed, and your thumb hovered over the power button, thinking of the missing boy before clicking play.

You heard the faint patter of footsteps approach you, it was a boy about your age, six years old. He had freckles scattered across his face, a shaved head and a sheepish smile.

“Hi. I-I’m Mi..Mie-Mieczy...” You watched as the boy sighed, his face heating up with embarrassment. When he looked back up to meet your eyes, you offered him a friendly smile, holding your hand out for him to shake. “Hi, I’m Y/N.. your name is Stiles? Your dad said so!” You asked, beaming happily when the boy, Stiles’, face visibly perked up at the fact that you knew his name. A small giggle escaped your lips as he shook your hand enthusiastically.

As you conversed animatedly with the younger version of Stiles, you could hear Sheriff Stilinski speak to your mother faintly in the background as they watched the two of you together. “Something tells me they’re gonna get along just fine.”

You gasped, no longer reliving the memory of the young version of yourself and Stiles. Now back in the empty classroom in front of the TV, you looked between it and the remote in your hand, a laugh of disbelief erupting from you and echoing throughout the room.

“Stiles..” You whispered, longing evident in your tone. In your trance, the three of your friends watched you intently as you whispered his name, making the flame of the candle flicker lightly. Lydia then cleared her throat, taking the lead once again. “Y/N, look for another memory of Stiles.”

You did as you were told, flickering through the multiple channels the television had to offer.

“You’re too pretty to be crying, Y/N.”

“No! You can’t go, it’s too dangerous!”

“Sometimes the person we’re looking for isn’t in the search at all. Maybe.. maybe they’re just right in front of us.”

Stiles’ voice echoed loudly around the room as you clicked through every memory, each one being passed by because none of them fit — none of them felt like what you were looking for. You landed on a channel, pausing briefly your rushed clicking and letting it play.

“I’m with you, ‘til the end of the line.”

It was Stiles’ voice again. No memory being played, just his voice, but you could somehow remember the exact moment of the conversation took place. “Is that a Marvel reference, you Star Wars nerd?” You heard your voice this time, echoing just like Stiles’ had been. A smile grew on your lips as the memory began to restore itself in your mind. “Yeah! But, you’re so into that stuff so.. it could be our thing! What do you think?”

“I think..” You found yourself whispering the same response you said in the memory, “I think it’s perfect. I’m with you ‘til the end of the line, Sti.” You murmured in your trance, confusing the three teenagers once again. “Y/N.” Lydia’s voice called out to you again, “Find the memory that you and Stiles made a connection.”

You furrowed your brows, looking over your shoulder suddenly. There was a door, but it wasn’t there before. Setting the remote down, you picked yourself up from the wooden desk and made your way to the door, slowly pulling it open. You found yourself in the Sheriff’s house once again, but you weren’t alone. You were in a memory. This memory was different though, and you knew it as you made your way to where the memory was being played out. You always relived them, never watched them — but this one, you were exactly that.

You watched your eleven year old self sit down next to a boy around the same age, who you knew was Stiles, and place a hand over his. He had tears in his eyes, and his face was vacant of emotion. You watched as your younger self looked at him with sorrow eyes, and your heart broke when you realized what memory was being played.

“This was the night his mom died..” You mumbled, tears clouding your vision and you quickly wiped them to watch the memory continue being played out. No words were being said between your younger selves, but none were needed to be. You observed Stiles placing his head in your lap, tears rolling down his face at a quicker pace as his expression finally broke. He released heartbroken sobs as your fingers ran through his hair, your younger self staring ahead. If you didn’t know that this was a memory, you would’ve thought she were staring right at you.

It didn’t take you long to figure out why this memory was being played, and your jaw slacked at the realization. “That’s when it happened.” You whispered in shock, finding yourself slowly being pulled from the trance.

“That’s when what happened?” You heard Scott’s faint voice ask. The vision of three of your best friends were blurry as you were snapping back to reality, and they all were looking at you expectantly as you cried.

“The night his mom died, when I was there.. H-He was crying with his head in my lap. That’s when it all changed.” You spoke while staring off at the candle, who’s flame was now burnt out. “I-I didn’t realize it until now, but that... that was the night we fell in love.”

At this point the tears trailing down your face were relentless, only growing worse when you painfully gasped. “I was there! I was there the night he was taken.” You sobbed, hands covering your mouth while Scott, Lydia, and Malia’s faces contorted with shock. “When the Ghost Riders took him, I was there.”

As you stood up from the stool, the ground shook beneath your feet, a bright, zapping light took over the room before disappearing behind the door. You glanced back to the three teenagers behind you, taking a step forward and carefully opening the door, revealing a blinding white light at the end of the tunnel.

Stiles turned his body to face yours, using both hands to grab onto yours with need. “Y/N, I’m going to be erased, okay? Just like Alex. You’re gonna forget me.”

“No. No, I won’t! I won’t. I won’t.” You promised, your sobs escaping at every chance they could.

“You will.” He whispered calmly, tears rolling down his own freckled cheeks as he gave you a small smile. “Remember… Remember that I’ve been in love with you since the beginning of our friendship, and that I didn’t even realize until middle school.”

“I never told him,” Your voice croaked at you spoke aloud, walking closer to the white light. “I never told him how I felt before they took him. That I love him. I never said it back!” You shouted, the feeling of Scott grabbing ahold of your arm to keep you from walking towards the light making itself present.

Then suddenly.. there was no need to walk towards the light.

Because there was a figure standing in front of it.

You let out a cheerful laugh, tears bunching at the creases by your eyes as you stared at the familiar shadowy figure, gasping out it’s name.

“Stiles.”

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀* * *

“Where is he?” You whimpered, feeling your knees buckle at the thought of failing Stiles yet again. Gripping onto the stool, you looked to Lydia and Malia, who were staring at you sympathetically. “We didn’t see anyone.” Lydia spoke gently in attempt to keep your emotions from spilling.

Scott had left you with both Malia and Lydia to keep trying to bring Stiles back and to be here just in case he comes here looking for any of you.

“I saw him. It was working, I know it.” You mumbled, mostly to yourself, but with Malia’s supernatural hearing ability, she heard you loud and clear. You stared at her blankly as she hopped up to her feet, pulling open the door and beginning to step out. “Um, where are you going?” Lydia asked from where she was next to you.

“To go find Stiles,” Malia stated as if it were obvious. “Listen, Stiles isn’t coming here. If he were, he would’ve, but he hasn’t, so he’s not.”

You blinked at her, deciding to disregard her last sentence before standing up yourself. “You believe me?” You asked her, and when she silently nodded her head, you were quickly on her side. “Okay well,” You trailed off, turning to Lydia who was still sitting on the stool. “Stiles is out there, I can feel it. So please, Lyd, help us bring him home.”

You watched as the strawberry blonde pursed her lips, lifting herself off of her own stool before strutting over to you. “Let’s go find him.”

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀* * *

“Y/N! What are you doing here?” You heard Scott yell from the end of the hallway of Beacon Hills High. Stumbling over the train tracks that were magically built into the floor, you grunted as you fell into his chest. “I’m looking for Stiles.” You answered with a shrug of your shoulders, watching Scott’s eyes grow with an emotion you really didn’t have time to decipher. “I’m going to places he’s most likely to show up while Lydia and Malia look at where the other train track lead, but his jeep’s gone.. So I won’t be able to look anywhere else but here on foot.”

Scott eyes darted around as his mouth opened and closed, trying to find something to say. “I, uh, took it? Yeah, Liam needed me so I hotwired the jeep and drove to the hospital.” He explained, a sheepish smile on his lips. You nodded slowly at his explanation, not really seeing all the pieces fitting together. “Okay.. so where is it now?”

“What? Oh! It’s still at the hospital. I, uh.. ran.. here.”

You rolled your eyes at his painfully awkward replies, pulling away from him and beginning your journey down the hallway. “Well, I’m going to the lockerooms.” You announced, peering back at Scott who was now conversing with Lydia, who appeared out of absolutely nowhere. “Take Lydia with you! There are Ghost Riders everywhere.” Scott shouted, giving Lydia a shove before dashing off into the other direction.

“He seems a little.. off.” You said to Lydia, chuckling softly. The two of you walked side by side through the eerily silent school, occasionally checking over your shoulders in case you needed to defend yourself. “Yeah, but that’s Scott McCall for you.” She laughed nervously which you furrowed your brows at.

“You know, you’re acting just like hi— Lydia, look out!”

Your words quickly caught her, and the Ghost Rider’s attention. “Cover your ears.” Lydia warned, her voice low but stern and you quickly did as you were told, squeezing your hands to your ears as Lydia released one of her banshee shrieks, sending the Ghost Rider flying into the set of lockers. It was silent, and you slowly pulled your hands away from your ears, stepping closer to Lydia to see the damage done.

But when you did, you felt your heart stop. All because were staring straight into a pair of whiskey eyes, and while you did, you felt all the memories with those eyes come rushing back.

“Lydia..” You heard Stiles’ voice say with relief, a smile appearing on his lips at the sight of his best friend. Deciding to come into better view, you shuffled to the side of Lydia, and the scuffling of your feet surely brought attention from the two other people in the room. “Y/N..” He mumbled, his voice holding a whole new different emotion as his hazel eyes filled with tears. In the background you could hear the clacking of Lydia’s heels fade away, giving you two your moment.

You didn’t know what to think as you slowly stepped towards the boy, almost as if you were to rush towards him any quicker, he’d disappear. A face you haven’t seen in months was finally in view, and the gaps in your memory were finally being filled by the boy you loved — it all made sense again. It was that moment where all the tears, all the fighting, all the heartache- it felt worth it. It felt like the world finally made sense again.

“Is this real?” You croaked, a weak sob eliciting from you when your hands reached out to cup his cheeks, all while staring into frantically into his eyes. The brunette quickly leaned into your touch, his tears rolling down his cheeks and onto your hands as he greedily soaked up the feeling of you touching him — deprived of it for what felt like an eternity. “It’s real, I’m here. I’m here, I’m real.” He repeated to you, eyes fluttering shut before he held the back of your head to his chest, nuzzling the tip of nose into your hair.

The moment, however, didn’t last long before you were thrashing in his hold. “I never said anything back,” You wailed, bottom lip quivering as you recalled the last memory you had of him. “You told me you loved me, and I never said it back. I never told you how I felt.” You panicked. You felt the heat rush to your neck and cheeks as Stiles gripped onto your face as a way to snap you back. Fortunately, it worked, and you were staring at him wide eyed while he simply looked at you with his same beautiful, lopsided smile.

“You didn’t have to.”

Was all he said before his lips were slanted on yours, involving you in a kiss that was completely different the first one the two of you shared. The first kiss, it was frantic, rushed. Stiles kissed you because at the time, it was the last time he would ever see you again. This kiss, however, was slow and it said everything that words couldn’t. You felt your breath hitch, your body melting into his as you kissed him back with love and longing — two emotions that overwhelmed your body more than any other. You felt the grip he had on your face tighten, pulling you even closer to his body as he pushed as much passion as he could into the kiss. Finding yourself holding onto his flannel overshirt, you couldn’t help but shuffle your feet closer to close any existing space.

He was the first to pull away, his forehead pressed to yours once more while he inhaled deeply to catch his breath with you doing the same. Your eyes were open, scanning over his face and looking over each freckle and beauty mark that littered his face gracefully, bringing a small smile to your lips.

And as the boy in front of you slowly peeled his eyelids open, revealing the beautiful whiskey color you found yourself in love with, you knew this was it.

He was back in your arms again, more real than ever. Not a pounding headache of a memory. Not a faint dream that had you gasping for breath in the middle of the night. Not a figment of your imagination. He was real and this was it.

This was the end of the line.

[samdeancass]

Troubled

Requested by: _stellastyless on Wattpad

Pairing: Derek x Stella (OC character)

Genre: Angst/Fluff

Characters: Derek, Stella, Scott, Stiles

Before her parents died in a plane crash, Stella was a very traditional girl. She always obeyed the rules, never stepped out of line and always had the best grades. All of that changed, however, when the fatal incident happened. Her life came crashing down around her. She had no siblings, nobody to turn to apart from Stiles. Stiles and Stella became super close and he became the only one she would confide in, especially since she was a closed book around everybody else. Her parents deaths changed her in a way that nobody could have predicted. Stella went from the perfect girl with a perfect life to an independent woman, stubborn and sarcastic just like her younger cousin. Stella has had a number of fake friends and flings that ended badly which crumpled her trust with anybody apart from Stiles.

There was one thing that she didn't trust Stiles to do though: take himself and Scott home without being harmed. It seemed that Stella wasn't the only one with these doubts as Sheriff Stilinski also didn't trust Stiles enough to reach home alone which is how she found herself parked outside of Beacon Hills High School. Stella was sitting on the hood of her car, tapping her fingers impatiently on the hood when she noticed a guy standing a few feet away staring at her. She hopped off the hood and began to walk further towards the schools entrance. Looking back behind her, Stella noticed that the guy had begun to follow her. Anger was building up inside of her, but she really didn't want to kick this guys as in the middle of a high school parking lot, so it was lucky that she spotted another guy heading towards her, Derek Hale. Stella giggled internally as she remembered a conversation she and Stiles had had not so long ago involving Derek.

"There is absolutely no need for how angry he is, Stella. He just sulks in the corner of a room, not saying a word. I can always feel his eyes on me, li,e he wants to eat me or something." Stella chuckled at Stiles' description of Derek. "Are you scared of him, Stiles?" His head shot up as his eyes widened. "No, definitely not." Stella shook her head and went back to reading her book.

Stella headed towards Derek and grabs his arm, interlocking their fingers together. "Play along". Stella whispered in his ear, only to leave Derek even more confused. This feeling soon went away when he spotted the guy that had been following you. Derek's eyes turned into slits as he slid his arm around Stella's waist, pulling her close to him. The guys eyes widened at what was playing out in front of him and soon walked away. Derek's arm fell from Stella's back as she stepped away from him.

"Thanks for that. Really didn't want to make a scene in front of a high school." She gave Derek a sheepish smile as they both walked towards her car. "Anytime, Stella. I always enjoy rescuing a damsel in distress." He began to laugh as Stella dug him in the ribs. "That will only happen once, I can promise you!" Stella could feel a familiar feeling brewing in the pit of her stomach as she carried on the conversation with Derek. Stella and Derek didn't really know each other so it was hard to gauge how much she could trust him, but she really couldn't resist the flirtiness of her old self. "Wanna go out for some drinks later?" Derek stared at Stella a little taken aback. He knew that she didn't really talk to people that wasn't in her inner circle. He thought for a second before accepting the offer. Stella smiled at him before she spotted Scott and Stiles heading down the path in front of them. "I'll meet you at the bar at 7." Stella waved at the two teens before walking towards them, leaving Derek slightly confused but amused at the situation he found himself in.

Later that night at the bar after dropping off Scott and Stiles, Stella and Derek were sat at the bar having a light conversation. "So I know about all of the werewolves and supernatural creatures in Beacon Hills, but I just wanna know how in the hell you cope with it all? I'm not around here all the time, but when I am it always seems like you, Scott and Stiles are always out trying to fix the town." Stella took a sip of her drink as Derek laughed slightly. "To be honest, it's quite hard trying to keep this town safe. The amount of things that these people have witnessed over the years is horrific. I'm actually surprised there are people still living here." Stella laughed in response as she downed the rest of her drink. "Another?" Derek smiled and nodded as Stella hailed down the bartender. "So, Stella, I've sort of noticed that you don't really talk to people who you aren't close to, so I'm just wondering why you decided to invite me out?"

The question took Stella by surprise as she downed the drink that she had just ordered. "Well, I think it has something to do with the fact that you helped me, practically a stranger, scare off a creepy dude who was following her." She took a deep breath as Derek smiled in response. "The thing is Derek, I'm sort of broken. I never used to be like this, I was a totally different person before...." Her voice stuck in her throat as she tried to finish the sentence. Derek placed a hand on hers and nodded. "I understand. Something happened to my family when I was younger that changed me in ways that I didn't even know, so trust me I know exactly how you're feeling." Stella smiled gratefully and ordered two more drinks.

A lot more drinks later, Stella and Derek found themselves hooking up together. For Stella, it was partly accidental but partly intentional as well. She really felt that Derek and her had a connection with each other and she wanted to feel closer to him. Stella awoke and looked around her, finding Derek asleep next to her. She smiles softly at him before quietly getting out of bed and getting dressed. She looks back at Derek one more time before creeping out of Derek's loft.

When Stella is in Beacon Hills, she stays af Stiles' house. She was hoping that nobody would be there when she arrived in order to escape staring eyes and awkward questions. That hope quickly faded when she spotted Scott's motorbike parked outside of the house. Stella sighed inwardly and readied herself for the interrogation that was sure to come before putting her key in the lock.

When she opened the door, footsteps sounded from the upstairs of the house. She rolled her eyes as the footsteps came closer and closer to her. "Where have you been?" She turned around to see Scott and Stiles leaning against the wall, arms folded across their chests. "You don't need to know." As Stella began to move around the kitchen and dodging Stiles' questions, she could hear Scott sniffing slightly and she knew he could sense a change in her scent. She swung around and brought a finger to her lips when Stiles wasn't watching, silently asking him to hush. He nodded softly before Stella headed upstairs.

A few days later the pack had gotten together to discuss another supernatural threat. Frustration was evident between Stella and Derek but nobody wanted to admit it. Both Stella and Derek had feelings for the other but they didn't know if they were ready to admit it to themselves, especially Stella. She was so afraid of being hurt and putting all of her trust in somebody she barely knows, but somehow she knew that Derek was worth it. Throughout the meeting, Derek barely looked at Stella and the frustration that she felt began to build inside her, along with a little sadness. Stella thought that Derek had feelings for her but with the way he was acting now, she wasn't so sure. At the end of the meeting, the frustration had turned into bitterness as her mind dwelled on hers and Derek's relationship. Before he left, letting the bitterness get the better of her, she pulled Derek aside to confront him about the situation.

"Alright Derek, I need to know. Where do we stand with each other? I thought you hooked up with me because you had feelings for me, but obviously you didnt. I cared all along for you, Derek." You breathing became rapid and angry as he gave you no verbal response and shook his head. Stella's anger got the better of her and she slapped Derek across the face before walking away.

The rest of the packs meetings resulted in Stella defending everybody's reasons and plans apart from Derek's. Stella was still very bitter about what happened between them both and felt that Derek didn't acknowledge or appreciate the hard work the rest of the pack puts into putting the plans together.

At one of the meetings, Isaac sensed a change in Stella's scent and decided to talk to her. "Hey, Stella. You Ok? I can sense something's wrong." She sighed a little and reassured him that she was OK. He could still sense her discomfort and engaged her in a mood lifter conversation which Stella became fully indulged in. Throughout the conversation, Isaac could sense Stella's discomfort leaving her body which brought a smile to his face. Stella walked away and sat down, taking Isaac with her.

"The thing is, Isaac. I sort of have feelings for Derek but he doesn't feel the same way." Stiles overhears the conversation and walks over to Stella. "Seriously Stel, Derek? I get what you're saying, I really do, but Derek?" Isaac looked up at him and shook his head before kicking his shin. "Go away, Stiles." Stiles groaned in pain as he hobbled away towards Scott, who he undoubtedly will tell. "Dont listen to Stiles, he's a moron." Stella laughed in response and begins to talk to Isaac some more.

After that, at another meeting, Stella found herself having to contradict Derek. Isaac could sense the change of her emotions and immediately pulled her close and hugged her, which oddly calmed her down. Every time this happened, Stella could feel herself mildly enjoying the attention. Throughout the meeting, Derek was unconsciously waiting for Stella to snap at him like she has been. He becomes a little confused when Stella isn't contradicting him anymore and actually agrees with him. Derek looks over in your direction and sees Issac and Stella cuddling together.

Anger rose through Derek's body at the scene in front of him. "Isaac, would you please concentrate and leave Stella alone!" Derek gritted his teeth together to keep himself calm before Stella jumped to Isaac's defense. "Hey, lay off. We're talking about the plan." You frowned at Derek before turning back to Isaac, throwing her arms around him. At this point, Derek was seething with anger. He absolutely hated the way Stella seemed so comfortable with Isaac and how quick she jumped to his defense but he chose to act like it didn't bother him.

A few days after this, Stella's phone lights up with a text from Isaac asking her to hurry over to the loft for a meeting. She hopped into her care and drove to the loft. Stella opened the doors and walked inside, only to find herself with Derek. Stella groaned inwardly at how awkward this was going to be.

"Erm, how've you been?" Derek looked over in Stella's direction and cast a small smile. "Absolutely fine, and yourself?" Ste,,a looked over at Derek and kept a straight face showing no emotion. "Fine. What are you doing here?" "Isaac told me to meet him here for a pack meeting or something." Silence filled the air for a few moments before Derek walked towards Stella and gave her a questioning look. "So, I've noticed you and Isaac have been getting pretty close lately and I'm just wondering how it's going."

Stella stepped back slightly in confusion and raised her eyebrows. "What on earth are you talking about, Derek? Me and Isaac aren't a thing, we're just good friends." Derek let out an angry huff. "C'mon, Stella. Dont give me that shit." Stella threw her hands up in the air. "What are you going on about?"

"With all the cuddling and giggling and whispering, it looks like you two are a thing. You seem so comfortable with him, I just assumed that you were both together." Stella gave him a deadpan look. "We're just good friends Derek, nothing more. We just get along really well and we understand the things that we have both been through. That's it, purely platonic. I'm way older than Isaac anyway, so having a relationship with him really doesn't seem practical in any way."

"Why are you both always co,fy with each other then, always cuddling each other?" Derek's frustration was starting to show at how naive Stella was being. He placed around the room as Stella shrugged in response. "I'm like that with everyone." Derek stops and over to Stella, stopping right in front of her. "You're not like that with me, though." "I would be if you hadn't of been such a jerk and played me." Derek scoffed. "What is your issue with me?"

"I like you, OK. I have for a while now. All of the little things that you do, like taking on the big bad by yourself, putting your life before anybody elses. It's things like that that allowed my feelings to develop, Derek. I haven't felt this way about anybody in a really long time and I get that you dont feel the same way, but you really shouldn't be interfering in my personal life."

Derek's head hung low as she finished her sentence. "I do admire you, Stella. So much. It's just, my past still haunts me to this day. I've lost so many people and I don't want to lose you to." Stella huffed in annoyance as tears began to prick at the corners of her eyes. "Please stop pretending, Derek. Its hurting me more than you know." She turns away from Derek but stops in her tracks when he grips her wrist.

"I love you, Stella. So much, please don't leave." Stella looked up into Derek's eyes to try and find any sort of uneasiness but all she found was genuine love. Stella tries to push Derek off her but her fights back and places his lips on hers, engaging her in a passionate kiss. As time goes on, the kiss progresses into something more.

Stella and Derek pull apart when they notice that Isaac is skipping around them, throwing rose petals along with Erica. In the background, a soft romantic song played. Stella and Derek looked up to find Boyd and Peter looking smug as hell. "What in the hell is happening here?" Derek looked around the room at each person before the door opened, revealing Scott and Stiles.

"GET A ROOM AND HOOK UP ALREADY!" Isaac shouted from where he was standing as Scott and Peter looked at Derek and Stella. "That was step one, guys. Just wait until step 2." They both wiggled their eyebrows at the couple before Stiles piped up.

"Derek Hale, if you hurt her, so help me. I will grab some wolfsbane, wrap it in mistletoe and mountain ash and shove it up your furry ass."

[theonewiththefanfics]

Not So Bad After All (one-shot)

Synopsys: When the Reader’s car won’t start and the only person around is Billy Hargrove, she’d rather let the Demogorgon take her out on a date. But when her crazy ex decides to roll around, having another person in her corner might not be that bad. 

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x f!Reader

Genre: fluff, lil bit of angst, but only like if you squint

Warnings: swearing, mentions of stalkerish behaviour, suggestive talk, but nothing much. If there’s anything else, please let me know :)

Word count: 3008

        Summer nights in Hawkins were like a game of Russian roulette. They could be hot and sweltering, and to the point that you wanted to camp on the lake for some kind of relief from the heat, or they could be ruled by piercing winds, and temperatures that dropped below 50 degrees, despite the weather during the day being literal Hell.         Fortunately for Y/N, it was the first one, as she had no harrowing want to go back to the community pool in barely there jean shorts, a bikini top and a loose Jaws t-shirt over her body.         Working at the pool was a tradition at this point for her, and forgetting her bag with her driver’s license, wallet and house keys much the same.         Letting out a frustrating huff, she opened the gate to the pool and strutted towards the women’s changing rooms, not acknowledging Billy Hargrove who had applied for the lifeguard job and had gotten it, becoming her partner. Sort of.         They shared shifts, as there needed to be two lifeguards on spot at all times, but if Y/N was being honest, she’d rather share her time with a Demogorgon, than Billy.         He was stuck up, thought he was better than everyone else, flirted mercilessly with anyone that would come up to him, had two boobs and a vagina between their legs. Not that she really cared, but when in the timespan he was offering Nancy Wheeler’s mom ‘private swimming lessons’, a kid had slipped and broken his nose and another one had twisted her ankle, Y/N was very much so over his bullshit.

        Y/N groaned seeing as someone had left the women’s sauna door open, which meant all the heat had escaped into the showers, and she could only hope it hadn’t been left open cause Billy had wanted to have some fun with a girl.         Sighing, Y/N peeked inside and crossed her fingers that she wouldn’t have to clean all that mess up, and it turned out luck was on her side, as everything seemed clean. Heather would still have to mop down the floors in the morning when her shift started, but that was not Y/N’s concern.         As quick as possible, she closed the sauna door, placed a towel by the entrance to soak up the moisture on the tiles and rushed to get her stuff. She was starving by that point, and her dad had promised they’d be having a barbecue night. Just at the thought of food, her stomach released the loudest grumble ever.         With her bag slung over her shoulder, Y/N pulled out her car keys from the back pocket of her shorts and gave Billy a small tight-lipped smile as he held the gate open for her before closing for the night.         “You sure you got everything?” he asked, and she nodded.         “If not, I’ll just get it tomorrow.”         And that was it for their conversation. They weren’t enemies, but they certainly weren’t friends. Y/N hung out with Steve Harrington most of the time, and let’s just say Billy and him were not buddies. Besides, it’s not like Billy had expressed any interest in getting to know her, so why should she?         She pulled back the hair that had stuck to her forehead from the humidity, and dropped her bag into the passenger seat, putting her foot onto the clutch and twisting the key.         Her eyebrows furrowed, and she repeated the motion.         Like before, the engine sputtered, rattled and did nothing.         “Fucking, hell, are you kidding me?” Y/N muttered and slapped her hands against the wheel, stepping out of her car and sighing. “I just fixed you.” It was an old car, but it wasn’t ancient so it made no sense why it would be acting up.         From the corner of her eye, she saw Billy approach, and Y/N rolled her eyes at the cigarette he dumped onto the ground and extinguished with his foot. “Need some help, sweetheart?”         “I’d rather shove a spoon through my eye.”         Billy let out a small snort and shook his head, the dirty blond curls that had stretched out a bit from the heat swishing along his forehead in soft waves. “Come on. I just want to help. I promise that’s all.”         Y/N eyed him sceptically but relented in the end. Maybe she’d need his help and have him spark her car up. “But if your hands go somewhere, I can’t see, you’re dead.”         “Noted, princess.”         She rolled her eyes at the nickname, which seemed to be Billy’s favorite pastime, but nevertheless, Y/N opened her door and leaned to open the glove compartment where a flashlight resided. You never knew, when it could come in hand, and the lighting outside the pool’s parking lot wasn’t the best.         “Pop the hood,” Billy said, and Y/N pressed the button on the inside, the hood obscuring her vision of her ex-classmate.         “Your ignition cable’s gone,” he immediately announced.         “What?” she rushed to his side, shining the light to where Billy was pointing at, and true to his words – the cable was gone.         “Are you kidding me?” Y/N leaned closer but nope, the view didn’t change. The cable was really gone. Right then, the sound of a car engine rolling up next to them made the two look up. Even without glimpsing the shitty green paint job on the Mustang, Y/N would’ve recognized the car and the owner in a matter of seconds.         “You’ve gotta be joking,” she mumbled glaring at the car that was approaching them as if she could see through the metal hood.         Billy’s eyes flitted down to where Y/N was glaring a hole in her car.        "Know who it is?"         “That’s my insane ex-boyfriend. Ever since I broke up with him, which, mind you, was months ago, he’s been stalking me.” She slammed down the hood, and it would’ve made Billy flinch, had it not been for the overwhelming feeling of anger that started to course through his veins. “And I don’t think it’s a coincidence that my car’s dead.”         “The pool’s closed, amigo,” Billy called out to the boy who stepped out from his car. The Californian would never admit, but he’d grown really attached to Y/N. He didn’t show it, nor did it seem like she noticed one bit, but he always kept out an eye for her.         Whenever she was the one on closing duty, he lingered around under the guise of trying to hook up with a girl in his car, but in truth, it was to see if she got to her own vehicle safely.         He always made sure Y/N took her lunch breaks and wasn’t in the direct heat of the sun for too long. There had been one time she’d passed out in the girl’s locker room, according to Heather, after having basically worked a double shift, and Billy’s protectiveness just grew. He'd even given half of his sandwich when the only thing Y/N had had time to pack before rushing for her shift had been an apple.         “Y/N,” the dark-haired boy’s tone had the fake-shocked note to it. “I didn’t expect to see you here… is everything alright?”         She crossed her arms and popped her hip out. “It was. Until you showed up and completely ruined my evening.”         “That’s a bit mean, isn’t’ it?” the guy chuckled, and pretty much simultaneously both Y/N’s and Billy’s jaws clenched. Hers because Derek was the last person on her list of people she wanted to see, Billy’s cause he could instantly tell what a disgusting slime ball he was.         “We’re alright here,” the blond answered and puffed up his chest a bit if only to make it clear Y/N didn’t need his help and neither wanted him there. “And again – the pool is closed. So, piss off.”         Derek scoffed. “Yeah, I wasn’t talking to you, Hargrove. I was talking to the lady here.”         “Well I don’t think she wants to talk to you,” Billy sneered in response and looked over at Y/N who was just looking at Derek. For the first time ever, he was glad her eyes were not on him. Whenever he caught her glancing his way, his heart sped up in excitement, but now... if looks could kill, Billy was sure Derek would be twenty feet under.         “I think she can talk for herself, right, lovie?”         And Derek got what he wanted – a reaction out of her. Y/N hated that nickname, had always despised it, but it took two to play a game.         “Car trouble,” she said and slowly walked closer to Derek and coincidentally, but not really so coincidentally, her trunk. “Couldn’t start it, and Billy here offered his help.”         “You know that you can always ask me for help, right?” Derek’s tone was softer now but held an edge to it as he eyed Billy. “We might not be together, but I still care about you. Unlike the slut of the town who probably just wants to get in your pants.”         “Oh, I don’t doubt that,” Y/N smiled at the ground, and it made Billy’s heart clench. He knew he had a reputation, but that didn’t mean he didn’t genuinely care for her. Though when she pulled out a baseball bat, her grip tight around the handle, his mood shifted. “But there’s caring about someone,” she said, “and then there’s your absolute psycho behavior.”         “Y-Y/N?” Derek stuttered, and Billy crossed his arms with a smug look on his face.         “See here’s the thing, Billy boy here said that my ignition cable’s gone, which is funny, cause I was at the pool for barely five minutes,” she tossed the bat from one hand to the other before flipping it in her palm. “And less than two minutes after I’m in a little bit of trouble, you,” she pointed at Derek with the bat, “show up. And if you think I believe in coincidences such as this, you’re dead wrong.”         Derek bristled, and Y/N smiled seeing a muscle in his jaw tick, especially when Billy went to tower behind the other guy’s back. “You can’t be serious and think that I'd do something to your car? This is ridiculous.”        “Then you wouldn’t mind me searching your Mustang?” She pointed with the bat at the window. From the corner of her eye, Y/N could see Billy’s lips pull up in a smirk. She’d be lying if the thought of having him on her side wasn’t a soothing one.        Derek’s eyes widened at the sight, and he gulped when she gently slid the piece of wood across his back window.        “You wouldn’t mind me taking a look, would you?” Y/N repeated in a way too sweet of a tone.        “You’re crazy,” he said, making her eyes darken.        “Fine. Then I guess I just have to make myself fit that label,” she sneered and swung the bat back. Just as it was about to reach the window, Derek screamed, ‘alright, fine!’        His chest was heaving up and down, but Y/N could see how his fists clenched and unclenched. “Do whatever the fuck you want.”        In mock gratitude, Y/N put a hand against her chest. “Thank you.”        Her eyes flitted to Billy. “Would you mind keeping an eye on him?”        The Californian’s grin widened, and his tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip. “Not at all, princess. Take as much time as you need.”        But Y/N only had to look for three minutes, before she remembered that under the backseats, there was a compartment Derek had made to stash his weed, fearing his parents might find it if he hid it in his room, so with a little bit of prying and almost breaking off a nail, Y/N opened the little compartment and was greeted by a greasy tube sticking out from it.        “Oh, Billy, would you look at that!” Y/N exclaimed not surprised at all as she threw the boy the cable. “I think we found the hidden treasure.”         “Well, I think you need to change professions from a lifeguard and become an archaeologist, miss Indiana Jones.”         “Exactly my thoughts,” but her sarcastic reply was not filled with any humor at all.        “Listen here, you absolute psycho,” Y/N growled as she moved closer, grip tightening around her bat. “If I even smell you anywhere near me, your ass is dead. Got it? I broke up with you cause you were a piece of shit, but I wanted to remain civil. Though, now, it seems like it’s not possible.”        But as much as Derek was scared, ‘cause he knew Y/N never made threats only promises, he still wouldn’t see the error of his ways. “Come on, darling. I just miss you. Why don’t we go grab a bite and talk everything out? Let’s not let this dent our relationship…”         “Dent,” Y/N chuckled and shook her head. “The only dent that I’ll ever acknowledge, cause there’s no relationship between us, is the dent in your car.”         Simultaneously as Derek yelled ‘what?!’ Y/N swung back the bat and let it connect with the passenger door.         “You bitch! What are you doing you psychopath?!” her ex screamed as his hands went to tangle in his hair. “I’ll make you pay for that, just you wait!”        “Go on,” she smirked heaving in a breath after she left another dent on the side, “tell your daddy and mommy your crazy ex busted up your car. And I’ll tell Hopper how you’ve been parked outside of my house for the past three months trying to spy on me. Or how about the times you've followed me with your car? Who do you think he’ll believe – me, someone with evidence – or you – a bitter boy who just can’t get over a girl that doesn’t want him?”        Derek’s eyes widened in fear. “What evidence?”        Y/N scoffed and crossed her arms. “Did you really think I wouldn’t notice you lurking outside my house and not do anything about it? I know how people treat women, that whenever they say something it’s because they’re crazed bitches. So,” she smiled smugly, “I had my parents install a security system with cameras. And your license plate shines brightly under those streetlights. Oh, and how could I forget our star witness tonight. Billy, sweetheart, if I went to Hop and told him about everything, would you mind corroborating the story? You know, how I came here to get my stuff, how I couldn’t start my car and we found out my ignition cable was gone. Not to even mention, how it turned up in the back of Derek's car here?”        “Of course not, princess,” he smiled mimicking Y/N’s position. “It would be an absolute honor.”        “You’ll never get into her pants,” Derek sneered at the other guy, trying to strike a chord, “in three years she didn’t put out once.”        “Trust me,” came Y/N’s immediate reply. “Billy has more chance of getting with me than you ever had or will. Now stay away from me, or it’ll end uglier than it started.”        Derek swung open his door and hopped in his car, sneering out a ‘you’ll regret this, you bitch’, before driving away into the night.        “Gotta say, Y/L/N,” Billy smirked and helped reinstall the cables to her car, “I’d be lying if I said I’m not scared and aroused at the same time.”        “Busting up a car makes you hard?” she let out a genuine laugh sitting down into the driver’s seat and turning the key, fist-bumping the air as her car roared back to life.         “No, but a girl not taking anyone’s bullshit might,” the look on his face was the pure embodiment of what she thought of Billy, of his womanizing ways, and Y/N rolled her eyes.         “If you haven’t noticed, I haven’t been taking your bullshit either.”         He sucked his bottom lip between his teeth before answering completely honestly. “Then why do you think I’ve been trying so hard to make you like me?”         Her jaw practically slammed through the car floor, because when Y/N’s eyes met his, there was not a single trace of him lying or scheming something up. This was Billy without his bravado, asking out a girl he had actual feelings for, and hoping that she wouldn’t break his heart too much.        “What are you doing this Friday?” Y/N asked both hands on the wheel to have something to hold on instead of fidget with her fingers.        For a second, he was stunned but quickly regained his composure. “Dunno,” Billy smirked, “have any ideas?”        Y/N shrugged but didn’t hide the smile that blossomed on her lips. “They’re still showing Day of the Dead. Wanna go and watch?”        He seemed to contemplate her proposal but then shook his head. “Can’t,” he chuckled. “I’m taking this smokin'-hot chick on a date tomorrow morning, so hopefully on Friday it’ll be our third one.” But his face had this huge grin on that made her frown in confusion.         “Then why did you say you don’t know?”         “Cause first I have to take you out for breakfast.”        “What?” her eyebrows scrunched up and she let out a small laugh. Billy pointed at her before hopping into his Camaro, rolling down the passenger side window and stating, “10 AM. Benny’s. Be ready or I’ll leave without you.”         With that, he revved up his beloved blue baby and reversed out from the parking lot.         What she didn’t see was how he smiled all the way back to his house even doing a little dance as he walked up the steps.         What he didn’t see was how she squealed in excitement and hugged both her parents when she got home so hard they thought they’d pass out.         “What’s up with you?” Y/N’s father laughed seeing his daughter so over the moon that he had to look at her mom with a raised eyebrow.         “Nothing,” she shook her. “I’m just… happy.”         Luckily they didn't question her any further, and just let her smile as widely as her cheeks would allow.        Maybe the bad boy of Hawkins wasn’t that bad after all.

Tags (crossed out wouldn't take):

Forever tags: @lumelgy @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @breezy1415 @crazy--me @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @s-c-a-r-e-d-po-t-t-e-r @reblogger-not-a-blogger @m-a-t-91 @dalilx @i-need-a-hero-i-need-a-loki @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @in-the-end-im-still-trash @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @sweet-ladyy @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees @bnhvrdy @tvwhoresblog @celebsimagines @thatkindofgurl @sj-thefan @teenwolflover28

Billy Hargrove’s tag list: @la-reina-tigresa @youcanstandundermyumbrella

A/N: thought I’d get something else up as well for Billy :)

[damn-behzinga]

Falling On The Battle Field

Ethan Payne Centric

Part two of Losing The War Against Himself

summary - Ethan tries to take his own life, the sidemen try to cope.

warnings - attempted suicide, talks of mental health issues, angst, graphic description of violence

masterlist/request info

REQUESTS ARE CLOSED

Ethan was sat on the sofa with his friends after the video shoot. He felt his sadness push in and he wanted to escape the situation as soon as possible. He wanted this feeling to stop, he wanted everything to stop. Ethan knew he had to take control. He knew it. And so, Ethan suddenly stood up and grabbed his coat.

"Sorry boys, I've got to go." He whispered. "You know, film a video, have a bath, and whatever."

"Ethan, you've been quiet all day," Vik said as Ethan walked towards the door. "Are you okay?"

"I'll be okay." Ethan smiled softly, checking the time on his phone - 1:54 PM - quickly before pocketing it.

"Are you sure?" Simon questioned bluntly.

Ethan froze, staring the wall. He never lied to his friends, that's just how he was. Ethan was a lot of things but not a liar.

"Yeah." Ethan gulped, surprising himself when he lied. "I'm just tired."

"Okay, we were gonna do a call later for some brainstorming," Josh informed, smiling softly. Ethan nodded and left the flat after saying his goodbyes.

He rubbed his eyes before he started driving home, stopping at Tesco. He put his hood up and made his way into the store. He grabbed a basket and walked down the aisles to collect his items. He grabbed a couple of bags of sharpeners before making his way to the sweets aisle. He grabbed some packets of Haribos before making his way to the medicine aisle to grab sleeping pills. He knew that he should only buy a pack or two. He walked to the cleaning supplies and picked up a bottle of bleach and laid it in the basket.

"Oh, um, Ethan?" A small voice asked. Ethan turned and saw a girl no older than nineteen, standing shyly. "Is it all right if I can get a picture? It's cool if not."

"Yeah, that's all right." Ethan smiled. "what's your name?" He asked.

"Oh, my name is Lily." She smiled extending her phone to take a selfie. Ethan immediately posed by throwing up a 'gang' sign which made Lily laugh and do it too. "Thank you, I hope you're having a good day."

Ethan chuckled and smiled at her, "I hope yours is going well. Have you been busy?" He asked. Lily seemed surprised by his effort to make conversation but Ethan knew that this would likely be his last fan interaction and he wanted to go off with a bang.

"Um not really. Mum wanted to go out shopping and I happened to join." She smiled softly.

"It's good that you came along." Ethan smiled. "Otherwise we would never have met."

Lily giggled and her eyes flickered down to his basket and Ethan didn't fail to notice. He moved the basket so it was hiding behind his back, hoping she didn't connect the dots. Her eyebrows furrowed and she said, "I've been watching you since 2015 and I think you have been so incredible. I used to have really bad mental health problems but I have grown to love who I am. I think watching your weight loss has heavily inspired me."

Ethan swallowed thickly. "Thank you." He felt tears pool in eyes and nodded at the girl.

"It's so nice watching you and the other guys just being you. It's so relieving, especially for us lonely lot." Lily chuckled. "I think it's so nice that you have a real relationship. I can't wait to see where you lot go."

"I appreciate that." Ethan smiled. "I'm sorry. I have to go."

"Thank you for the photo." Lily smiled. "Have a nice day."

"You too." Ethan waved and made his way to the checkout. Ethan was thankful that the self-checkout existed so he didn't have to make awkward contact with the worker.

Ethan put the bag in the car and he gripped the steering wheel and let out a sob. "Fuck!" He started slapping the wheel and let out a broken sob. "I don't want to do this." He looked over at the bag and stared. He shook his head and drove home, racing to his flat.

Ethan very hastily recorded a video and tidied his room. He didn't want anyone to struggle cleaning after he was done. He threw on some shorts and his old top before making his way to his bathroom. He got a text from Charlie which immediately reminded him to let him know that it was okay for him to stay with his family longer if needed. Ethan turned the hot water up and laid down. A small sob escaped his trembling his lips. He studied the blade before pressing it against his wrist. He swallowed thickly and dug the blade into his skin.

"This is it." He muttered. He then felt tears escaped his eyes. His wrists ached as blood oozed out of it, he watched carefully when he felt nausea rise to his throat but he swallowed it away and reached for his phone. He knew all the other boys were in a group call trying to come up with new ideas. He joined the call and soon there were cheers for his arrival. Ethan was scared, he didn't want this. He hadn't said goodbye.

"Ethan, what do you think about the Cal's in another video?" Josh asked as he joined.

"Boys, boys." Ethan cried out. "I need help, I-"

"What happened?" Simon asked and the call suddenly went silent.

"I need help. I didn't mean to cut too deep. I'm gonna die." Ethan sobbed. "I need an ambulance."

"Ethan-" Harry gasped.

"It hurts so fucking bad, there's so much blood." Ethan stuttered. "I'm gonna miss you guys a lot." Ethan cried. "I didn't mean to. I'm sorry."

"Can you tell us what happened?" JJ asked.

"I just wanted it to stop." Ethan sobbed.

"No, Ethan, no, please! It's okay!" Tobi whimpered.

Ethan tried to relax his breathing but he couldn't stop the tears from escaping as he stared at his wrist.

"Ethan, what is your new video about?" Vik asked.

"Um, I tried a workout that Freezy and Lux made for me," Ethan whispered.

"Can you tell me about it?" Vik questioned.

"They made me do a shit ton of press-ups. My arms ached so bad and I couldn't do it all." Ethan chuckled weakly, his words started slurring. "I had to do a lot of squats, almost collapsed."

"How did the Cal's react?" Vik asked.

"They laughed at me," Ethan said. "I don't know why but-"

Ethan trailed of suddenly quieting.

"Ethan, are you still there?" Vik asked.

"'M tired. Wanna go to sleep." Ethan slurred, his eyelids fluttered. "I think I'm gonna sleep."

"No, c'mon Ethan. Stay with us." Harry begged. "If you wake up, I'm gonna upload something embarrassing on your channel."

"Go ahead. I don't care. Need to upload my goodbye video anyway." Ethan said.

"Goodbye video?" Tobi asked, voice high with confusion and worry.

"Made a video so I could explain it," Ethan mumbled. "Boys why is there banging at my door?"

"Ethan, hold on," Harry whispered.

"I wanna sleep."

"Don't go to sleep!"

"I'm going to sleep." Ethan's eyes fluttered shut and he dozed off.

JJ had never been properly scared. Sure, he had been nervous but he always switched it to adrenaline and made sure he saw the positive. He always knew the logic behind things and chances. He wasn't book smart but he knew how to see things to see what matters in the matter. He wasn't scared when his grandma was told she had a deadly illness, he knew the chances were low of her survival and so when she did pass, he was just happy she wasn't in pain anymore. But, JJ was terrified. His friend, by the time that he got to the flat, could be dead.

JJ ran into the flat with Simon close behind him, trying to unlock the bathroom door.

"Move back." He ordered and Simon did as he said stepping back. JJ hurried, knowing every second could count, slammed his foot on to the door. The door only shook slightly so JJ did it again, harder, a dent appeared in the door. One final kick and JJ's foot shot through the door and he fell forward slightly. He quickly pulled his foot out and fumbled with the lock and unlocked the door.

JJ surprised himself when he realised that he sprung into action and grabbed towels and pressed it against Ethan's wrist.

"Ethan, can you hear me?" Simon asked as he shakily held on to one of the wrists. JJ nodded at Ethan's chest and let out a shaky breath.

"He's breathing," JJ said. "Can you see how long the ambulance is gonna be? I'll keep ahold of these."

Simon just nodded and grabbed his phone out of his pocket and joined the group Discord call again. "Boys, we're with him now. Do you know how long they'll be?"

"Josh said they're pulling up soon," Tobi answered. As if on cue, JJ heard the doorbell. Simon sprinted to the door and guided them to the bathroom.

JJ blocked out what happened next, allowing Ethan to get rushed to hospital with no knowledge of what was going to happen. JJ and Simon arrived after the other guys and JJ collapsed into the seat and put his head in his hands. He was trying to block out Harry and Tobi's crying, he wanted to process what had just happened a mere few minutes ago. He jumped when a hand rested on his shoulder. JJ glanced up and saw Simon holding a blanket with a smile on his face.

"The receptionist said that you might want to cover that up." Simon nodded towards the blood that had spilt on to his top. JJ took the blanket before resting back. Simon sat beside him and took a deep breath.

Simon had always felt responsible when things went wrong. So, as he sat on an uncomfortable chair in the middle of the hospital, he looked back on his day and noticed everything that had happened. He imagined a scenario where Ethan hadn't resorted to taking his life. He thought about how he should've pushed more when he noticed Ethan was acting off. But he didn't. And if Ethan died, Simon knew he would never be able to get rid off that guilt.

Simon broke out of his thoughts when he heard a sob rip from Harry. He sighed and made his way over, wrapping an arm around Harry.

"He'll be okay," Simon whispered.

Harry sniffed and nodded. There had never been a major death in his family. Sure, he had the odd grandparent or uncle he never truly knew but he never felt so much sadness due to the idea of death. He was uncertain whether his friend would come out of this alive and that ruined Harry the most. He was upset that they couldn't contact Ethan sooner, he was upset that he didn't know, and he was upset that he may walk out of the hospital with the knowledge that his friendship group would shrink by one. He was so heartbroken that his friend didn't reach out and tell them how he was feeling.

Harry glanced over to Vik, who's foot was tapping anxiously as he continued to glance around.

"Vik, keep breathing," Harry muttered softly.

Vik just closed his eyes shut and ran through every event that had lead up to where they were. He tried to piece it together as if it were some puzzle that had been scattered across the floor. Why hadn't Ethan said anything? Had Vik been that bad of a friend? Did he miss all the signs? Vik's answers came up short as he desperately tried to figure out his confusion. There were so many moments where he thought Ethan was getting better. And he wondered if he had said something that had caused the final push. What were they going to tell the fans? There was so much Ethan was excited for, what were they going to do now?

Vik closed his eyes and let out a long breath when he heard muttering from Tobi beside him. Vik knew not to interrupt as Tobi prayed so he simply whispered, "Please, God."

Tobi linked his hands together, the cross of his necklace held tight between his palms as he recited a prayer and desperately tried to connect to his God. Ethan had to survive, they had got to him on time. Tobi continued whispering prayers under his breath as he waited for what he desperately wanted to be good news. He hoped his God would save the friend who was trying to leave far too soon. He was reminded of his mum who would always tell him that if you have hope, good things would come. Tobi had to remain hopeful, his God, alongside the hard-working doctors would save Ethan, he prayed they would.

Tobi looked over to Josh who was staring blankly at the floor and Tobi placed a hand on his friend's arm. "Josh. It's okay."

Josh felt disconnected to the ground. As he looked at all of his friends, he tried to remember when they all had become so close, all huddled together. He hated hospitals, it always felt like a new universe to him. As if reality had shifted as soon as he walked through the doors. It also felt strange to know that, a few rooms away, his friend, who Josh truly believed to be one of the best people he knows, laid dancing on the line of life and death. Josh didn't know how to cope and he started to go through ideas and his schedule in his head. He tried desperately to forget the reason they were there, knowing if he overthought it, he would have a panic attack or run away. He knew he couldn't forget but he was just so afraid.

"Um, the family of Ethan Payne?" The doctor asked and the boys all stood up. "He's alive and stable. We need to get blood transfusion so he has a few IVs in him at the moment. It may be scary but he's alive. I just wanted to ask a few questions? If you're in the state to answer." The men just nodded. "So he cut his wrists in a bathtub. Has he ever had suicidal tendencies before?"

"Um, he's harmed before. And he's thought about it but never-" Vik swallowed thickly. "He's never tried."

"Okay, does he see a therapist? Or used to see a therapist?" The doctor asked after jotting notes down.

"Yes," Josh answered. "He saw a therapist once a week but I don't know if he's gone in the last few weeks."

"Will he have enough money to see a therapist?" The doctor asked and the boys nodded. "Okay, you can see him now and I'll finish the questions later."

"Thank you. For saving him." Simon said quietly. "His mum lives a few hours away, we're the only other family he has."

"I'm just doing my job." The doctor smiled as he led them outside the room. "Just a warning, he's now got two scars on his wrists. They are bandaged and will stay bandaged but if you need to understand that they'll be big and not pretty. We may have to keep Ethan in for twenty-four hours but he's alive."

The doctor opened the door and the men walked in to see Ethan in bed asleep, several wires going into his arms. Harry gasped and Tobi let out a small cry.

"He won't be awake for forty-five minutes to an hour so I would recommend you maybe grab some of his stuff he'll want and some food for you all. Here's a list of things he'll be allowed." The doctor handed them a piece of paper and smiled softly. "Try not to bring anything he can hurt himself with. Any wires and whatnot, make sure you take it home with you."

"Thank you again." Tobi smiled. The doctor just nodded and left the room. The group all looked at each other and sighed.

"So should we do three of us go get his stuff and the other three go pick some food up?" JJ suggested.

"Um yeah. I'll go to his place." Tobi took a deep breath. Josh and JJ both decided to go alongside Tobi as Harry, Simon, and Vik went to the store.

The stopped at JJ and Simon's flat so JJ could change out his bloody clothes. He threw the clothes away and walked out in a hoodie instead. The three were on edge as the walked into Ethan's flat, a new feeling bubbling in their chests.

They quickly made their way to Ethan's bedroom and picked up a few of the things they know Ethan would want. His AirPods, his Switch, his laptop, and his-

"Jide, Where's his phone?" Tobi asked. JJ sucked in a breath.

"The bathroom." JJ stuttered.

"I'll go get it." Josh smiled softly, knowing how JJ would react. JJ and Tobi nodded as the continued looking for whatever they may find that Ethan would want. Tobi was searching the desk when he noticed a USB stick lying neatly next to his computer. Tobi put the USB stick in his pocket and continued looking as Josh returned with Ethan's phone.

Simon, Vik, and Harry were picking out snacks as they all thought about what Ethan would want and would help him recover. They packed up the food before quickly making their way back to the hospital, the last thing they wanted was to hear Ethan had woke up alone.

When they all re-met in Ethan's hospital room, they had a few snacks, all sat at whatever part of the small room they could find space in. After a few minutes of silence, Tobi pulled out the USB and held it out in front of him.

"Should we watch it?" He asked his friends.

"I think we should," JJ said.

"It will give us more of an insight as to why." Josh agreed.

Tobi pulled out Ethan's laptop and praised silently that he remembered Ethan's password before plugging the USB into it. The file only took a few seconds to download and Tobi opened it.

He placed the laptop in front of the friend group who was all crowded around it on the floor.

"I'm assuming if you're watching this you're looking for a why." The on-screen Ethan swallowed thickly and took a deep breath. "I am so tired. I did not give up, I promise. I battled as hard as I could, I swear. Nothing I did was good enough. I tried to make my mum proud, and the boys proud. And they always told me they were but I never felt it. I tried so hard not to try this way of ending but I realised that this was my best option. I'm not good enough."

Tobi paused the video and closed the laptop. "I can't watch this."

"Me either." Harry sighed.

"Okay, let's just-" Josh suddenly gasped. "Shit, has anyone spoke to Ruth?"

Mumbles broke out within the group and Vik hastily pulled out his phone, stepping out the room to talk to Ruth. They all felt silence wash over them as they waited for their friend to wake.

Another few minutes past, they heard groans and confused mumbles coming from Ethan. JJ ran to get the doctor as Ethan started crying, his eyes darting around as he trembled. Tobi and Josh tried to calm Ethan down, explaining that he was okay and alive. The doctor walked in with JJ and calmed Ethan down. Ethan wrapped his hand around his wrist, gritting his teeth in pain.

"Would you like some painkillers?" The doctor asked softly. And Ethan nodded as tears escaped his eyes. Ethan took the painkillers with water and the doctor said, "Open your mouth please, I need to do a cheek check."

"Why?" Ethan asked before opening his mouth.

"We need to make sure those who try to commit suicide don't store their medication in their cheeks." The doctor said before giving him the all-clear.

"Can I ask you some questions?" The doctor asked and Ethan nodded slightly. "Okay, I'm going to have to ask you six to leave the room please." The six friends nodded and turned before leaving the room.

"Okay, so, were you originally trying to commit suicide? Or was it an accident?" The doctor asked.

Ethan felt sick, tapping his fingers against his thighs. "It was originally and then I freaked out and called my friends, who I assume called an ambulance?"

"Well, it was your friends JJ and Simon who got to your flat before the paramedics. They saved your life." The doctor explained and Ethan let out a sob. "Have you tried to take your life before?"

"When I was fifteen but that was over ten years ago. Since then I've only thought about it and hurt myself." Ethan explained honestly.

"Okay. Have you been diagnosed with any mental disorders before?" The doctor asked.

"Um depression," Ethan answered quietly. "That's what I was diagnosed with after my first attempt."

"Anything else?" The doctor asked and Ethan shook his head. "Okay, your mum has been contacted and she is on her way in the next few hours. We need to keep you here for a day to make sure you are okay. I have lists of recommended therapists and hope you'll get better."

"Thank you." Ethan rubbed his eyes to clear his tears before the doctor welcomed his friends back in.

They all stood awkwardly before Ethan whispered a small, "Thank you. I regretted as soon as I did it."

"I thought we were going to lose you!" Harry sobbed as Ethan pulled him into a hug.

"I'm sorry, bog," Ethan muttered. "I was just so tired." His voice broke as a sob escaped.

"Please, never do that again," Simon begged.

"I felt so-" Ethan paused, trying to find the right words. "I just felt like nothing I did was good enough. I tried to fight, I did. I saw the therapist and I tried the exercises but nothing was working. So, I tried to make everything stop. It was so hard." Ethan was crying, his words slurring together as he sobbed.

The friends could only watch, their heart was breaking at the sight.

"Ethan." Josh frowned. "We are always here for you. We would do anything for you. If you ever feel like this again, please, talk to us. Or your therapist. None of us has ever been so scared in our lives."

"I'm sorry." Ethan whimpered.

"You're here now. And you are alive and breathing. That's what matters right now okay?" JJ said and Ethan nodded shakily.

"You're going to have scars," Tobi said. "And you'll probably hate them for a while but they're going to show you that you are a survivor."

"I don't know if I'll ever want to look at them again," Ethan said honestly. "And the fucking fans will comment on them. Fuck, have you told them anything?"

"Ethan, the fans can wait," Vik said. "You are far more important."

"Am I?" Ethan asked.

"Of fucking course!" JJ exclaimed.

Ethan was taken aback and just looked down at his lap. 

"You're good enough, Ethan. I promise." Simon whispered.

Ethan just nodded, not fully believing the love he received from his friends. He didn't know if he ever would but as he sat in the hospital bed surrounded by his friends - his brothers - he felt relief that he had woken up in hospital rather then not woken up at all.

[trillian-anders]

amor de mi vida - 1948

pairing: bucky barnes x latinx!reader

warnings: racism, prejudice, fluff, angst, smut

word count: 2423

description: Bucky Barnes is a sweet young Brooklyn boy, just on the cusp of manhood, a hopeless romantic that falls in love with almost every girl he sees. when he sets his eyes on a young girl fresh off the boat from Cuba he finds out how hard love can really be.

for @cake-writes 1940s challenge.

You told Bucky you were never having sex with him again. 

Jaime was the eldest of three, Dia becoming a middle child, and those newborn cries you weren’t given the time to miss sounded from your bedroom at night every two hours like clockwork. 

Grant was a handful. But he was so cute you forgave him for it. Jaime looked like his father with your coloring, Dia was an exact replica of you, but Grant, he had his father’s eyes. They just about knocked the wind out of you when they didn’t change from that milky newborn blue to brown. His sweet fat little cheeks and blue eyes. 

Dia waddled her way over to you, holding onto the side of the couch and bouncing while looking at her father, babbling for his attention. Bucky peaks at her over his newspaper, the radio keeping Jaime preoccupied while he plays with a toy car Santa brought him for Christmas, making motorized sounds as he pushes it across the carpet. 

Dia lets out a little screech. Bucky laughs and drops his paper, her little arms reaching out for him. He picks her up and settles her on his lap. Another screeching sound as she bounced, Bucky’s mouth blowing raspberries and tickling her. Grant was milk drunk and falling asleep on your breast. 

“We need a vacation I think.” Bucky laughed, Dia pulling roughly on his hair that desperately needed to be cut. You smile softly, looking down at your newborn. 

“Just you and me?” Dia screeches again, accidentally jumping on Bucky’s lap, feet first into his groin. He groans, lifting her off his lap, 

“Just you and me.” 

Martha Green was still talking to your husband. He was short with her, mostly ignoring while he mowed the lawn. You stood in the front window of the house, watching her. Leaning on the fence, pushing her breasts out, smiling. She was wearing a frilly pink dress and for a moment you envied how she had two kids and kept her figure, there was no secret that yours had filled out. Almost every dress you owned had been adjusted. 

But Bucky had seemed just as insatiable as ever. He still kissed you a hundred times a day, he still pressed himself against your back at the sink, he’d grope your ass or breast in passing. A playful slap here or there. But he was respecting the fact that you weren’t comfortable enough to have sex again, not yet. 

But maybe you were wrong for that. 

Grant was three months old now and while the weight from Jaime didn’t stick to your tummy or hips, Dia and Grant certainly did. Bucky respected the fact that you weren’t ready, and not out of fear that you’d get pregnant again, which he was happy to buy rubbers for, but the change in your body was hard to deal with. 

You loved your children more than life itself, and you heard the ‘girls steal your beauty’ more than once after Dia was born. That didn’t help. 

Bucky had packed on muscle. And a lot of it. Between boxing and training with Steve. Completing missions, his arm had been upgraded to just about match his flesh arm, and he was sporting a six pack when he flexed. But luckily enough he seemed annoyed with her. Bucky could hold a grudge and the woman had called the police on you after all. 

He glared at her, pulled the mower, and resumed cutting the grass. Grant wailed from behind you and you gave her one last look, her face clear with disappointment and annoyance before she stomped back into her house. 

Later that night, after the kids were sleeping soundly, you knew Bucky wanted to have sex. He had a tell. “I just like looking at you.” He always says when you’d playfully tell him to stop, but his eyes stay on you as you wash your face and set your hair at the vanity. You could see how hard he was in the mirror. The gentle hands that began to massage your shoulders. 

But the doubt and the insecurity from earlier was still nestled in your chest. You shrug his hands from your shoulders and step from the vanity, walking to your side of the bed and removing your robe before slipping under the covers. Bucky was looking at you from his spot still next to the vanity, debating,

“What’s wrong?” He asked. You’d known each other for nine years now, if he couldn’t tell something was wrong there would be a bigger problem in the marriage other than insecurity about extra weight. He squat next to your side of the bed, brushing his fingers across your cheek, cupping your face. 

“Nothing.” You shake your head, pressing a kiss into his palm. “It’s nothing.” Three months was the longest the two of you had gone without sex since he’d gotten home from the war. 

“It’s not nothing, talk to me.” You roll onto your back, rubbing your eyes, before looking back at him. Concern clear on his face. 

“I uh…” You felt anxious, sitting up in bed he rested his chin on your knees, looking up at you. “Do you…” His hands found yours, thumbs brushing over the back of your hands. “I just…” You could feel yourself getting emotional, wanting to swallow it down. 

“Dahlin, talk to me.” His voice was full of concern. 

“Should I lose weight?” You ask him. “Do you think I’m…” His brow furrowed and he leaned back on his haunches. 

“Is that what this is all about?” He asked. You let out a heavy sigh and nodded. “Sweetheart, I don’t care about any of that.” His hands left yours and held your hips. “You’ve given me three children,” Hands bunching your night dress, “You’re so beautiful.” A kiss to your knee. “If losing the baby weight is something that would make you happier, I’ll support you.” Kiss to your other knee, “But I don’t mind either way.” His hands met your hips under your night dress and pulled you closer to him, his lips trailing up your thigh. “I’ve loved you since the minute I first saw you.” Hot words against your thigh as his fingers twisted into your panties, tugging them down your hips, “Nothing is going to change that.” 

Your back met the mattress as he placed your thighs on his shoulders, fingers intertwined with yours as his tongue met your clit. Back arching and soft moans, his hands leaving yours to grip your thighs and fondle your ass as his tongue pulled moans from your lips and made your hips roll against his face. You were quick to cum, his eyes hooded and mouth tangy with your release as he kissed you. The quiet shift of his boxers being dropped and he paused over you long enough to roll a rubber down his shaft. 

Whispered love and affirmation as you joined for the first time in three months, hands gripping sheets and mouth muffled moans to keep from waking the kids. 

Bucky made it a point to tell you that you’re beautiful daily after that. And he meant it, truly. 

Bucky had gotten home midday in Spring, another mission done, tired to the bone. But from the kitchen sink he could see clear into the backyard. Jaime was in just his shorts, running around the backyard, enjoying the playset Steve had helped him build a few weeks before. Dia in her diaper following him, your sweet voice calling out to them and ‘ralentizar’ and ‘ven aquí’, Dia coming back to play with the blocks you laid out on the blanket that 6 month old Grant was currently banging together. 

His eyes moved to you, a slip of a dress on, shoulders bare, laying back in a day of heat that was causing the flowers you’d planted to bloom. He admired you from the window. Your skin seemed to glow in the sunlight, hair in loose curls down your back the way he remembered seeing for the first time in that club so many years ago. A relaxed loose, carefree way he always wanted for you. 

He sighed in contentment, leaning over the sink to stare out the window. Watching you lean back on your forearms, Grant’s one tooth smile grinning up at you, holding out his blocks and banging them together while he laughed. 

Your dress business is being taken care of by five employees of your own now. You’d talked to him about maybe getting a building in the city, maybe with his backing you’d be able to open a small store. Once the summer was over, the two of you decided, after the vacation he’d been planning, then you’d work on opening a store in the city. 

“I’ve never been away from them.” There was a little panic as Winnie took Grant from you. Bucky rubbed your arms, Jaime’s hands wrapped around your legs. He was already so fussy that day. Like he knew you both were leaving, he’d thrown three tantrums which caused Dia to be uncontrollably fussy, Grant was the only one who seemed content to go with whatever was going on. 

“They’re going to be fine.” Bucky soothed. George was bribing Jamie with a toy, trying to pry him from your arms, but the two-year-old was not having it. His face red and wailing, arms wrapped around your neck as you hugged him goodbye. “It’s just a week sweetheart.” Your heart broke as you walked down the steps of the Barnes’ brownstone and to the car. Winnie having Grant wave goodbye and cooing to Dia and Jaime that the two of you will be back and that they’re going to have so much fun. 

Howard had a beach house in the Hamptons, quiet and secluded. Far away from anyone able to protest and argue. A beautiful house with large bay windows and natural light. Bucky was unpacking the groceries, your shared suitcase by the front door still, while you looked out at the crashing waves. This was your home for the next week. And while you’d sit on the phone with Winnie each night, asking her to hold your babies up to the phone, you couldn’t help but be relieved for finally having some kind of break. 

The sun was going down, both of you warm with it, sleepily laying in the sun listening to the waves crash. No kids to care for, no responsibility, just the two of you. You’d eaten cold cut sandwiches and had started drinking at lunchtime, followed by an indecent amount of kissing and fondling on the blanket in the sand. 

He blocked out your sun, leaning over your frame, mouth consuming and hot, malty from the taste of liquor. 

“I’ve missed this.” He said, your face on his chest, fingers dancing down your back. “Just being the two of us.” You hummed, sleepy and a little drunk. 

“Me too.” His hat is halfway propped onto his face, he continues, 

“Once the kids grow up and move out,” He says, “Maybe we could retire up here.” You hum, knowing that it probably won’t be possible, not unless they abolish segregation, but who knows. Maybe one day, maybe when you retire forty years from now things will be different. 

Maybe. 

The bath is big enough for the both of you and once the sand is rinsed from your bodies you find yourself there, sinking into the warm water, your back to his chest. Bucky tried his best to make it romantic, all the candles, the oils in the bath. A bath that wasn’t littered with toys and having the ability to bathe longer than five minutes was a definite advantage. 

The days that followed were much like the first, a steady routine you both created in the absence of the normal routine you had at home. Automatically formed out of habit. 

The sex was passionate and much needed. The ability to love each other openly without worry of a baby crying or interrupting in any way. Bucky’s stamina was unparalleled. You’d even risked it out on the sand, swimsuit bottoms pulled to the side, legs over his shoulders, moaning against the sound of the waves beating on the shore. 

You’d lost count of the times you called the Lord’s name in vain. Dumb and babbling with it. Bucky’s back was littered with deep red marks that weren’t given time to disappear. A revitalization for your marriage, with a realization that you’d been together for eight years. Married for six. 

You celebrate your anniversary in the Hamptons, definitely not on your anniversary, and eat cake naked on the kitchen floor. 

“Okay,” You hum, “You look beautiful.” Peggy gave a watery smile in the mirror, the satin and lace wedding gown draped over her body accenting every curve she had. You smiled at her, your dark blue bridesmaid dress a stark contrast. 

Turning she grasps your hands and holds them between the two of you, her nails red lacquered and pale. 

“Thank you for being here.” She lets out a heavy sigh from nerves, “I don’t have many girlfriends.” You shake your head, 

“You’re my friend,” A grin, “Of course I’m here.” 

A small ceremony, not much fuss, that’s what Peggy wanted but certainly not what she settled on. It was a little larger, with a lot more flowers, and a bigger audience than she expected. She was marrying Captain America after all. They’d gotten requests from reporters, people wanting to take pictures as the couple took their vows, but they were told a hasty ‘no’ and now sat outside the church waiting to snap a picture of the newlyweds as they left. 

You cried. Standing across from Bucky as he stood behind Steve. You tried not to, but you couldn’t help it. Not just for the happiness of the marriage, but the love you could feel from your friends. Bucky met your eye and smiled, eyes watering as well, clapping with everyone else as Peggy and Steve shared their first kiss as husband and wife. 

Bucky met you behind them while they walked down the aisle, pulling you tightly into his side. “Do you regret that ours wasn’t like this?” You met his eyes and they were watery, he seemed upset. You shake your head, pressing a kiss to his lips, the congregation more focused on Captain America and his bride. 

The love you felt for him chokes you and you begin to cry, “Not at all.”

.

.

.

taglist //  @corneliabarnes​ @bookish-shristi​ @saturnki​ @jennmurawski13​ @geeksareunique​ @albinotigerpython​ @cake-writes​ @iheartsebastianstan​ @000bananaclip000​ @shadowbusiness @sprinkleofbooty​ @gifsbysimplysonia​ @vhsbarnes​ @loseralert @wendaiii​ @mcueveryday​ @alwaysbenhardysgirl @beck-alicious​ @thefandomzoneisdangerous

[tasteslikepepsicola]

Somebody Else (Sodapop Curtis x Reader Part 2)

Part One - please read first!

Y/N confronts the boys about what each of their relationships with her mean to them. A party at Buck’s is sure to cause drama when Y/N shows up with one of them, and the other proceeds to get drunk out of their mind, becoming Y/N’s responsibility.

Word Count: 4800+

Warnings: drinking, slight angst (not really)

Authors Note: Hey guys! Hope you all enjoyed part one, and heres part 2! I hope to have part 3 up within a week. I am not sure how much longer this story will continue, but I do not believe it will extend over 5 parts. Please like, share, and follow! Your support means the world <3 

As Y/N approached the D.X, her heart thumped. She could see Sodapop working on a car inside the garage. However, Steve wasn’t in sight. She watched the movie star handsome boy wipe a bit of sweat from his brow, and pause to take a sip of water.  As she came closer, he finally noticed her walking towards him.

“Hey, Pepsi-Cola” Y/N hummed sweetly. 

“Oh, hey, Y/N” He went back to working on the car, trying to look like he was concentrated on it, but Y/N could tell by the way he stared blankly at it, pretending to fidget with it, that he was just trying to seem uninterested in what she had to say.

“I’ve barely seen you the past three days,” she said.

“Yeah,” he mumbled.

“I tried calling... but um Darry and Ponyboy answered each time I called, you never seemed available. I even stopped by today hoping to see you, but um- your brothers told me you were at work so I-” she was abruptly cut off.

“Guess I figured you were too busy fooling around with Steve to want to see me.” He shrugs nonchalantly, but his words sting.

“Soda, it’s not like that, you and I both know that.” She takes a step closer to him, trying to reach out for his face, to rub off a smudge of dirt he got while working on the car. But he pulls away sharply.

“Really? Do I? Do I know that it’s not like that? Cause neither of you told me you cared for each other like, like- that until you got caught.” His anger fades and his voice breaks by the end of his sentence. His tone softens, “were you even going to tell me?”

“Soda, that was the only time Steve and I did something like that, I- I don’t even know why we did it. We didn’t even kiss. We just got caught up in the moment.” Y/N realizes how desperate she sounds for him to believe her, but she doesn’t care. “Please believe me…” her voice trails off.

Sodapop stands above the hood of the car he was working on, anger prevalent in the way his muscles are flexed from gripping the edge of the car so tightly. 

The desperation begins to leave her voice as Y/N becomes more frustrated, and it is replaced with indifference.

“I get that it was shitty to see your friends act so out of character, but it was one time, and there’s no reason for you to be reacting the way you are.” At those words, Sodapop breaks.

He slams the hood of the car shut aggressively, Y/N jumps back. The Sodapop she knew never acted like this. He runs his hands through his hair, tugging at it, he looks like he wants to punch something. He sighs, calming himself down. Finally, he makes eye contact with her with a softened expression.

“You’re right, okay? If you want to date Steve, that's fine. I don’t care. At all. Make out with him all you want.” He flails his arms around, exaggerating every gesture, like he often does when he's upset. “Just don’t do that shit in front of me, or in my house.”

“No, you don’t get to ignore me for three days because of one stupid decision and then pretend you’re okay with it because its easier than dealing with the truth.”

He laughs sarcastically. “Oh so now there’s some whole big hidden meaning behind why I’m upset that my two best friends betrayed me?”

Y/N stands there silent for a minute. Could she be wrong? Did she misinterpret what Darry and Pony had said? No, Soda has to be jealous, that's the only explanation. But what if she's wrong? What if she only believed it so easily because she wanted it to be true?

Softly, she asks, “isn’t there?”

He looks away from her, and down at the ground. “No, there isn’t.” He replies.

Y/N could feel her heart drop in that moment. She hadn’t even realized how much she had wanted it to be true, how much she wanted Sodapop to care about her the way she always cared about him. 

“Fine.” is all she says as she walks away from him, and through the doors of the D.X. Regardless of the hurt she may be feeling, she still owed someone else an explanation.

Above her head, the small chime of a bell rang, alerting the cashier of her presence. Another young teenage greaser stands at the cash register, mindlessly flipping through a magazine that looked to be about cars. He’s tall, with slicked back, thick black hair. He almost looked like Steve, but tanner and with chocolate eyes different from Steve's signature green. 

Y/N walks right up to the boy, as he chomps on a piece of gum obnoxiously, eyeing her up and down. 

“What's cookin’ good lookin’?”

Ugh, he did not seriously just use the cheesiest pick up line I’ve ever heard. Y/N sighed, rolled her eyes, and crossed her arms over her chest, suddenly a little self conscious.

“Is Steve here?” she asked, fed up.

The greaser boy smirked at her. “So you’re Y/N?” he let out a low whistle. “You’re even prettier than I imagined. And trust me, he was talking about you a lot, so I thought I had a good idea. Anyways how did a girl like you end up with someone li-” he was interrupted by a flustered Steve running out of the stock room. 

“Y/N!” he forces a smile. “I see you’ve met my friend Jess,” he slaps Jess on the back, a little too hard to be considered friendly. 

Jess turns to look at Steve, casually, then points back at Y/N, “Your girlfriend is here.” He says smugly.

Steve and Y/N both immediately rush to explain, speaking at the same time.

“Woah woah woah buddy you are way off base. We are not dating. Nope”

“She is not my girlfriend, okay? We’re just friends.”

Jess lets out a small laugh, ignoring their claims, and heading back to the cash register. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say. But um, if you’re not dating then, does that mean you might wanna catch a movie sometime Y/N.” He nods in her direction, flashing a smile.

Steve defensively puts an arm around Y/N. “Yeah, nope. That’s not happening on my watch.” He replies.

“Relax Steve-o, I’m just messin with ya.” Jess winks at Y/N, causing Steve to glare back at him. 

Quickly, Steve checks his watch, then smiles. “I’ve still got fifteen minutes left of my break. Y/N, take a walk with me?” he offers.

“Sure,” she accepts.

Jess returns to flipping through the pages of his magazine, as Steve and Y/N walk out of the convenience store, past the garage, and down the road they had walked so many times before. It almost felt like old times, Y/N reminisced about a time when she, Steve, and Sodapop would all walk to the D.X and she would sit at a short distance watching them fixing up cars. Y/N would never admit she actually found it kind of boring, but she appreciated any time she could spend with her friends, since their schedules were already so packed. She also knew the days she would watch them at work they were always happier, having a little more distraction and just slightly more fun. And, if she was being truly honest, she had always loved the way Sodapop looked when he was really into something he was doing, it was one of the only times she ever saw him have a passion. He was a dropout, there weren’t many options for a guy like him. And he needed to provide for his family, he didn’t have time to pursue his interests. But cars, well they seemed to genuinely bring him excitement and joy. And for that, Y/N was so grateful.

“So,” Steve starts, unsure of what to say next. “I guess we should talk about what, um, ya know, happened that night with the gang.”

Y/N nods, knowing he didn’t know how to continue. Instead of watching him struggle to find the words, she prompted him, “Well, what did it feel like to you? Was it just fooling around, or did it mean something?” Y/N asks, unsure of which answer she would rather hear.

“Honestly, I could stand here and lie to you and say I didn’t feel anything, but I just can’t anymore. I- I didn’t know I felt the way I did about you. But then you were just, there, in my arms. And your skin is so soft, and your hair smells like flowers, and um-” he pauses, blushing. “I guess what I’m trying to say is, I care about you. But also, if you don’t feel that way about me, we can just pretend this never happened. It’s not like I’m in love with you or anything but-”

“Steve?” she cuts him off, smiling up at him.

“Hmm?” he hums.

Suddenly, something comes over Y/N, she doesn’t owe anyone anything. Sodapop has made it clear how she feels about her, and she might have a real chance at happiness with Steve.

“Can I just, um try something?” she says, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Uh, sure.” he replies, unsure.

Y/N tries to steady her breathing, before wrapping her arms around Steve’s neck, standing on her tiptoes to reach him, and leaning in to kiss him. He meets her halfway, and before either of them fully understand what they’re doing, the two of them are kissing. Y/N feels warm, and safe, and comforted, like Dally pulling her into his lap with a blanket, or Darry holding her while she cries because she had another horrible fight with her family. It’s like how Ponyboy always listens to her no matter how frivolous her topic of conversations seem. It’s like how Two-Bit never fails to put a smile on her face. It’s how Johnny always gives up his jacket when she says she's cold. It’s almost like the butterflies she feels in her stomach when Sodapop says her name.

When they finally pull away, they are both smiling at each other. 

“Wow,” is all Steve says.

“Yeah,” is all Y/N can add.

“Alright, I know this is all new and I don’t wanna scare you off, or think I’m trying to be exclusive all at once but um- do you wanna come to this party with me Friday? It’s at Bucks which I know isn’t your usual scene, but most of the gang will be there and, I don’t know, I’d love to have you there with me.”

Y/N kisses him on the cheek swiftly, “I’ll be there.”

“I’ll pick you up at eight?” he beams.

“It’s a date.” she replies.

*****

Friday came sooner than Y/N could have ever expected. A thousand nervous thoughts ran through her head. But truthfully, what did she have to be afraid of? It was still Steve, and she was still Y/N. They would always be best friends above all. 

All her attempts to reassure herself were equally matched with the nagging thought, would Sodapop be there? But no, she was just being paranoid. She knew as well as everyone that Soda was not the partier type. He never touched a drop of alcohol, he always talked about getting drunk off life instead. Y/N finally managed to push her thoughts away from Sodapop so she could focus on getting ready for the night.

She settled on a simple white flowy sundress that fell just above her knees. She let her hair do its natural beach wave type-of-thing, and used a few bobby pins to make it look a little more intricate. She kept her makeup light and natural, as always, with just a bit more mascara and a lip gloss with a peachy tint.

Once she was done, she looked in the mirror and was reminded of how good it felt to dress up a little from time to time. She had always been relatively girly, and although she certainly doesn’t wear flannels and boots everyday, she still had to stick to some form of the greaser look. But tonight, it looked like she could party with the Soc’s any night. Y/N loved the look, hated the actual concept of a Soc party. Although she doesn’t go out much, when she does, she would much rather be with her own people.

Y/N checked the clock across her room, and noticed it was now 7:58 p.m, meaning Steve would be here any minute. She has just enough time to apply a dash of her signature perfume, before there's a knock at the door. Luckily enough for both her and Steve, her parents weren’t home, so they didn’t have to face any interrogation about where they’re going and when they’ll be back.

When she opened the door, she could have sworn she saw Steve’s eyes bulge out of his head.

“Y/N, you look...incredible.” He barely manages to get the words out.

She giggles, cheeks heating. “Thank you, so do you.”

The two of them stand there staring at each other for a moment.

“Uh, Steve? Shouldn’t we be going now?” Y/N inquires.

A second passes before he seems to return to reality. “Oh yeah, of course. Sorry, it’s just- you look really beautiful.”

Y/N smiles at the ground for a second, before replying. “Okay, smooth guy. Let’s get going now.” She loops her arm through his as he escorted her to the car.

*****

When they enter the house, the smell of alcohol and cigarettes fills the air. Loud music is playing, it seems a couple card games are already going on, and the night is just starting.

The couple immediately sees Dallas and Two-Bit and makes their way across the room to them. 

“Guys! You made it!” Two-Bit exclaims.

“And...together?” Dally questions.

“Well, I mean, we’re here together, but we’re not together.” Y/N tries to explain.

“Ahh, and how does Romeo feel about Mercutio stealing his Juliet?” Dallas quips.

Y/N is stunned for a second, “Wow, since when does Dallas Winston reference Shakespeare?” she asks.

“Since I heard Ponyboy use that exact same phrase an hour ago and he had to explain to me what it meant. I’d figure you’d get it Y/N.” He laughs.

“Oh, trust me, Romeo and Juliet is my favorite Shakespearean tragedy, but I still don’t get what you’re meaning to relate it to.” Y/N added.

Steve let out a nervous laugh, before placing his hand in the small of Y/N’s back. “How about you and I go grab a drink, Y/N?” Steve suggests while leading them off. “Catch up with you later guys!” He shouts, already halfway across the room.

For another hour or two, Y/N tried to let loose, she had a couple drinks and danced with Steve. She was having a great time, no doubt. But she still couldn’t push Dally’s words out of her mind. He was quoting Pony? About Steve and Y/N… The whole situation was messy and she was trying to piece it together as she sat at an empty table watching Steve play a game of pool from a short distance.

And all of a sudden, from across the room, none other than the handsome greaser who she had been trying to push from her mind all night walks through the door. Sodapop Curtis is at one of Bucks crazy parties. But why? And then it clicks all at once. Ponyboy must have been trying to say that, well, if Y/N is Juliet, Steve is Mercutio, that means...Soda is supposed to be Romeo? But in some messed up version where Juliet is at a party with Mercutio, and kissing him, and making out with him during movies with Romeo just feet away. 

Y/N felt light headed, trying to process where she was and what she was doing. Sodapop told her there was no hidden meaning behind his passive aggressiveness. He assured her he was just mad because he was shocked, because it could break up their friendships. He practically told her he wasn’t jealous. He couldn’t be Romeo, he couldn’t feel that way about Y/N. Ponyboy must have been severely misinformed.

Before he can catch her staring, Y/N pulls her gaze away from Soda, instead opting to grab onto Steves hand, and leading him onto the dance floor once again. She can feel his eyes on them as they dance, his burning gaze that he had no right to be plaguing her with. Maybe it was the liquid courage, but Y/N thought to herself, fine, if he wants to stare, might as well give him something to stare at.

Just then, she pulls Steve close to her again, crashing her lips on his, while they continue to sway to the music. When they finally come up for air again, Sodapop is nowhere in sight. 

“What was that for?” Steve grins.

“You just look so darn cute when you dance,” she replies, pecking him on the cheek. 

Another hour or so passes by, and the party is in full swing. But Y/N has yet to see Sodapop since he first walked in.

“You know, I’m gonna go grab another drink, you want anything?” She asks Steve.

“I’m alright, thanks though.” he replies.

She swiftly saunters off, pushing through the crowds of people, scanning their faces for an all too familiar one.

After a few minutes of wandering, and almost completing a whole lap around the party, Y/N is about to give up. Remembering she was supposed to come back with a fresh drink in hand, she makes her way into the kitchen. Of course, in the comical mess that was Y/N’s life, a very intoxicated Sodapop was standing next to Jess as he handed out drinks. Y/N cautiously approached the pair.

“Y/N! Steve actually managed to convince you to come?” Jess joked.

She let out an uneasy laugh, “yeah, I guess he did.”

Sodapop completely avoids Y/N’s eyeline, huffing at the mention of Steve.

“So what can I get you?” Jess asks. 

“Just another…” Y/N pauses, lifting up her drink to inspect it. “Whatever this is?” she replies unsure, giggling a little.

“Coming right up, beautiful!” he replies, before ducking deeper into the kitchen to retrieve the drink, leaving Y/N and Soda alone together, for the first time in days.

The silence is practically unbearable, so Y/N decides to be the first to end it. She takes a seat at the table next to Sodapop. Around them, people dance, sing, kiss, scream, and fight. But not here. Here, at this remote island Y/N finds herself stuck on, it’s just her and Sodapop, not knowing what to say.

“Hey,” she begins with.

He rolls his eyes over to meet hers, over exaggerated annoyance apparent on his face. “Hello, Y/N.” he states. 

“How have you been?” she questions.

“Grand.” he says sharply, crossing his arms over his chest.

Y/N puffs out her cheeks, lost for words. She’s about to go find Jess and head back to Steve, and she even stands up to leave before she feels Sodapop reaching for her.

“Wait...don’t leave.” he slurs out. 

She sighs, but ultimately sits back down.

“I’m sorry I’ve been like this, the past few daysss.” he extends the last word, sounding barely awake. 

Y/N says nothing, waiting for an explanation. 

He realizes she isn’t just brushing him off and he continues. “I- I just don’t like-” he pauses, tilts his head back, and scrunches his eyes shut for half a second before quickly continuing. “I don’t like seeing you and Steve together. All in my-” he gestures his hands around his head. “all in my face.” he finishes.

Y/N bites her lip, not knowing what to say next. He eagerly awaits her response.

“I know, Pepsi-Cola, and I’m sorry I wasn’t honest with you earlier.” she apologizes.

He lets out a sharp laugh. “That's ironic isn’t it?” he stares down at the table, seemingly not focused on anything.

Y/N feels her brows knit together like they do when she’s confused.

“What do you mean?” she asks.

Suddenly, Sodapop looks stone cold sober. “It just didn’t matter to him at all did it?” he says.

Now, Y/N is more confused than she was before they started talking. She wasn’t even sure how that could be possible.

“What didn’t?” she pushes for an answer.

“I’ve been in love with you since the seventh grade, and he still took you from me, like it- like my feelings, our friendship- like it meant nothing.”

Y/N’s heart sinks. Her head whirls. Her breathing halts. The world stops spinning, just for that moment. That moment where Sodapop said he loved Y/N. Loved...loves? She tried to replay what his exact words were, but her brain couldn’t produce a coherent thought.

“You’re drunk, Sodapop.” is all she can say.

“In fact I am, Y/N.” he replies.

Just then, Jess reappears, a drink in hand. He places it in front of Y/N proudly.

“Thanks, but I actually don’t think I’m gonna need it. I really think I should bring Soda home.” Y/N places her hand over Sodapop’s forehead, who looks like hes about to be sick. 

“What do you mean? The party’s just starting! It’s barely past midnight- and I haven’t even gotten to show off my impeccable dance moves to you yet.” he jokes.

Y/N keeps a hand against Sodapop’s cheek. He wraps his arms around her waist, as she is now standing while he remains seated. She messes up his hair a little, affectionately. 

“While that is quite tempting, this dumby here is kinda my best friend. And he’s pretty much the biggest light weight you’ll ever meet.” She says, helping Soda rise to his feet. He slings his arm around her for balance. “So with that being said, if you could do me a favor? Tell Steve something came up and that um- I had a great time. And to call me when he gets home so I know he got back safe.” She smiles at Jess, about to leave before turning around and adding, “And if you wouldn’t mention that I left with Soda?” she says barely above a whisper.

“Your secret is safe with me.” He winks at Y/N, before heading back to serve more drinks.

When they had finally made their way out of the party, they began the short walk across town, to the Curtis house. 

*****

Wow, that walk takes a lot longer when you’re dragging your drunk buddy behind you the whole time. Y/N notes. Darry and Ponyboy are both fast asleep by now, so quietly she sneaks Sodapop into the kitchen. 

She manages to get him to sit at the counter without breaking anything in their path. She quickly grabs a glass from the cabinet, fills it with water, and leaves the room for a moment, before returning with a couple aspirin in hand.

“Take these.” She hands them to Sodapop, watching as he swallows them to make sure he does. “And drink all of this.” She taps the glass.

He smiles at her, amused.

She can’t help but feel her face slightly light up at his sudden cheerfulness. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asks.

“Cause you love me,” he hums.

Y/N’s heart races, but she attempts to remain composed.

“Of course I do, you’re my best friend.” she reasons.

“No, not like that Y/N. Never like that. Okay? We’re more than that. I love you. You see?” His motions still indicate he’s intoxicated, but not quite as heavily as he previously was. 

Y/N pours herself a glass of water, too, and stands across the kitchen from him, leaning against the counter. 

“You don’t know what you’re saying, Sodapop.” Y/N mentions.

He smiles obliviously, before shouting as loud as he can, “I love you Y/F/N! I am in love with you!” She immediately rushes over to him. Clasping a hand over his mouth. 

“Oh my god Sodapop, what are you thinking? Are you trying to get us killed? In about two seconds Darry is gonna run in here and he’s going to see that you are drunk and then-”

Sodapop grabs Y/N, pulling her into his lap. Y/N removes her hand from his mouth, in shock by his blatant neediness. 

“Why don’t you just kiss me already, Y/N?” he whispers to her. At this point, her heart is racing so fast, that Y/N is sure he can hear it beat. And as much as she wants to, she can’t do this.

“No Soda, come on, not like this. We’re better than this. If we’re gonna do this, our first kiss will not be in your kitchen at one A.M when we are both drunk.” She kisses his temple lightly, before standing up and offering him her hand. He takes it half-heartedly as she leads him to bed.

“So you’re saying you’ve thought about it then? And want it to be special?” he inquires.

Y/N rolls her eyes and giggles. “I didn’t say that Pepsi-Cola.”

“Well I’ve thought about it. A lot. More than I should possibly.” When he says this, Y/N swears she’s died and gone to heaven. Or that she must be dreaming. 

Finally, they reach Ponyboy and Sodapop’s shared bedroom. Pony is sound asleep, somehow, despite Sodapop’s previous screaming. 

“Okay,  smooth guy, let's get you to bed.” It isn’t until the words leave her mouth that she recalls how she used the exact same nickname earlier in the night, to her date, Steve. A wave of guilt comes crashing over her. She tries to brush it off, and focus on the task at hand.

Sodapop struggles to take off his shirt, so Y/N helps him, while he manages to take off his belt and jeans. Standing there in just his underwear, Y/N tosses him a shirt she grabbed from his dresser. He quickly puts it on.

“Turn around, I need to get dressed too.” she states. Sodapop obliges, quickly turning around. And then there is silence as Y/N reaches behind her to try to unzip her own dress. Even in his drunken haze, with his back turned to her, Sodapop knows she's struggling.

“Uh- do you need help?” he asks innocently.

She sighs, “Actually, yes.” Y/N replies.

Finally, Sodapop stands behind her as she holds her hair up and away from the zipper. He is extremely cautious as he unzips the tight dress, and it falls off her body, and to the floor softly. For that brief moment, there was a shared intimacy between them- the tension was so much. It was almost like, Y/N could have just turned around and kissed him. Well, she could have. But it wasn’t right. Not yet. They had waited years for their time, it certainly wasn’t right now.

Sodapop’s cheeks turned a bright red, flushed, and he quickly turned around to hide this from Y/N. She threw on one of his oversized shirts, and noted that it smelled so much like him and found comfort in that. She taps him on the shoulder, “you can turn around now.” she adds.

“Oh,” they face each other once more.

“Let's get you to bed Pepsi-Cola.”

And then, shes at his bed side. Guiding him under the covers, leaving a glass of water on his nightstand. And wanting nothing more than to stay there with him, possibly forever.

She kisses him on the cheek, “goodnight, Sodapop.”

“Why do you always sleep on the couch, there’s enough room for two people in the bed.” he yawns through his question.

“There's already two people in the bed silly,” she glances at Ponyboy, who remains sleeping.

“I guess that's a valid point…” he mumbles. “Have I mentioned that I love you?” he responds.

“A couple times.” She kisses him on the nose. “Now goodnight, for real, Pepsi-”

“Do you love me Y/N?” he asks with pleading eyes.

Maybe it was because she just wanted to go to bed, or maybe it was the alcohol, or even because deep down she knew it was the truth, but Y/N responds, “Of course I do, Sodapop, I always have, I always will.”

“Always?” he asks.

“Always.” she repeats, before closing his door, and heading to the couch for an inevitable restless night's sleep.

[lightyagamiis]

i hate that i want you

Pairing: reader x jungkook Genre: angst Warnings: none Word Count: 1.9k

i’m always tired but never of you...

~~~

losing him was probably the hardest thing you’ve ever had to deal with.

it’s been months but the smell of his cologne still filled the air of the apartment you both once shared.

the shirt he left behind still barely smelled like his skin, you refusing to wash it being scared it’ll lose its scent.

you missed him. more than you wanted to admit or even speak out loud.

you hated the fact of you missing him. you hate that you find yourself not being able to sleep because you aren’t wrapped in his arms.

you hate that you still reach for his coffee cup every single damned morning ready to pure it full of his favorite but only to be disappointed of not feeling the glass with your fingertips in the cabinet.

you hate catching yourself staring off into space at the chair he once sat at while twirling your fork around on the plate of food not being able to eat.

you hate him. hate with a capital H A T E. but yet you still miss every part of him.

even the annoying parts, like how every morning he’d roll over and tickle you until you woke up, how he’d tease you over how much of a nerd you were for astronomy, how he’d leave his dirty dishes around the apartment in random places, how poorly he’d fold the towels fresh out of the dryer. the list goes on.

driving alone was one of the hardest parts to deal with. you missed him in your front seat always messing with the radio or using the aux to play his own music. missed how he’d rest his hand on your thigh and gently rub his thumb against your skin and sing along to every song that blasted through the speakers.

but now it’s you and an empty front seat.

you missed riding with him in his car, he’d always let you Bluetooth your phone to the radio(his car obviously being a better model than yours, because yuck using an aux s u c k s) and playing all your favorite songs. he’d laugh at you singing off key and still say you had a beautiful singing voice. you missed holding his hand while he drove and how every once in a while he’d lift your hands and connect his lips to the top of your hand, his eyes not leaving the road.

but now your spot in his front seat is empty, or so you hoped.

your best friend has tried to talk you into leaving the apartment and moving back home with your parents, but you always refused.

“come on y/n!” your best friend groaned slapping her hands to her thighs, “you can’t go on like this! i’m sure your parents would love to take you back in! you can even stay with me if it’s a must!”

you’d just continue to shake your head in refusal, “I can’t just leave…”

you’ve tried looking for other apartments, but the thought of you even leaving this one killed you. you wanted to leave, but knew you couldn’t.

sometimes you sit around and wonder if he ever misses you as much as you miss him.

if he misses waking up to you, misses coming home to you every night after long days of working. misses the endless nights of crying together over bad days. misses holding you tightly against him. miss the silly jokes and chasing you around the apartment. the nights of endless lust and your voice calling out his name while pressing him closer to your bare body. the warm morning showers and washing each others hair and purposely washing each other’s hair wrong to irritate the other. the nights of binge-watching all the harry potter movies and Marvel films.

god knows how much you hate yourself for missing all those moments and hoping that he missed them too.

it’s been so long since you’ve last heard his voice, but you can remember it as clear as day.

you remember the sadness in his voice, the tears that filled his eyes, the trembling of his hands as he held yours for the last time.

you remember hearing the last words he spoke to you and remember feeling your heart break into pieces.

“it just...won’t work y/n,” he released his hands from yours, breaking eye contact and staring off at the fully packed boxes filled with his things, “it hurts me, trust me..but this is for the best.”

you clenched your shirt remembering the painful memory. “I hate him I hate him I hate him.”

you used to take late night walks with him when you both couldn’t sleep, it’s how you two met actually.

the college dorms were too noisy one friday night, keeping you from sleep and sleep from you.

pissed and irritated you changed into your leggings and throwing your favorite hoodie on and stepping into your white converse then quickly bouncing out of your dorm room.

the hallway was filled with drunk kids who were barely legal adults to even be drinking.

you scoffed at their loudness, how could people be this loud?

you found yourself walking in the courtyard, seeing another figure in the distance walking in your direction.

his face was hidden with the hood of his jacket pulled over his head and him keeping his eyes locked with the ground.

you were hoping he’d just keep walking and not even notice you, but the moment you hoped for that, he glances up seeing you.

“can’t sleep either huh?” his tired voice spoke.

you noticed he stopped in front of you, forcing yourself to stop in your tracks.

you scanned him, scanned his dark chocolate eyes, dark fluffy hair. tight skinny jeans and black timberlands.

he gave you and soft smile, having you picture him as a soft bunny.

not letting your guard down, you just slowly nod at him, “yeah, the dorms are filled with drunken idiots who don’t know what peace and quiet is.”

he chuckled, nodding in response, “I feel that.”

you nodded again pressing your lips into a thin line, ready to walk around him and continue your middle of the night walk.

“you know it’s not safe to walk around by yourself this late at night.” he said, knowing as if you were about to ditch his ass in the middle of the courtyard.

you raised a brow, “you saying since i’m a female I can’t take care of myself?”

he quickly shook his head, “no no!” he raised his hands up in defense, “I didn’t mean it that way, you look as if you could totally kick my ass.”

“then what exactly do you mean?” you crossed your arms shifting your weight to your left side.

“I mean that walking around alone isn’t safe because if a group of people, or drunken idiots, decided to gang up on you, you couldn’t take them all on your own.”

“then why are you walking around alone then?” you snapped.

he smiled softly again glancing down at the ground, “I was hoping to find someone else. someone to take walks with, I guess.”

his words hit your heart, probably harder than they should have.

“well...maybe we can walk together then.” you said softly, playing with your fingers out of nervous habit.

“i’d actually really love that.” he said in response.

and since then he’d call you in the middle of the night asking for late night walks.

the two of you connected quicker than expected. you knew for a fact you were the one that got attached first.

you found yourself purposely acting cold to see if he’d wrap his arms around you or even offer you his hoodie.

you found yourself missing him before you even realized you were missing him.

but soon enough, you started to realize the attachment he had to you also.

you’d never forget the way he asked you to date him.

or the way his lips felt the first time he kissed you.

you’d never thought the day would come where you’d no longer have the feeling of him on your lips.

tonight was the first time taking a late night walk in months.

you always thought taking a walk without him was wrong, but tonight was the exception.

pulling your phone from your pocket, you dialed his number, your thumb hovering over the send call button.

you wanted to call him, to talk to him. have him come along on this walk and see how much he missed this.

but you quickly locked your phone and shoved it back in your pocket.

ten minutes have passed as you walked past the coffee shop the two of you used to go to when you both were too lazy to make coffee that morning. seeing the chair and table you two always sat at.

you instantly pulled your phone back out and redials his number, pressing call and holding the phone to your ear, listening to the ringing.

“sorry to miss your call! leave a message and i’ll ring ya back!”

you ended the call after hearing his voice mail. your heart broke at hearing his voice, but you always found yourself smiling knowing that his voicemail was still the same.

the two of you sat around for hours helping each other with voicemails.

you sighed, thinking he’s probably sound asleep.

or so you thought until you heard his laugh.

you froze in place, glancing across the street to see his well-known figure. his hood over his head, his typical timberlands, and skinny jeans with a white tee shirt.

his laugh was followed by the voice of his friends and then softly pushing on each other.

it broke your heart to see them all together. you missed his friends as well, they were at one point your best friends also.

you couldn’t move from your frozen place, eyes locked onto him, half wanting him to notice you and the other half not wanting him to see you at all.

he looks at the ground, then up and over in your direction, his smile slowly fading at seeing you.

his eyes that were just smiling were now filled with pain.

he stopped walking, turning and facing you.

he took deep breaths, seeing you after months was killing him. his heartaches and all he wanted to do was rush across the street and wrap you in his arms.

but he knew he couldn’t.

“why wouldn’t it work Jungkook?!” you softly spoke with a shaky voice, it was clear as day that your heart was broken just as much as his.

“because i’m holding you back from a future you need. I can’t give you the things you’d want. i’m just some music major and there’s no for sure when it comes to this. you’re going to be an amazing doctor someday and I can’t hold you back.” jungkook responded.

he believed leaving you was for the best of your future, but he didn’t realize how much he’d mess up your future.

he kept staring at you, and you finally decided to unfreeze yourself and rush to him, that was until his attention was taken back by his friends. he jogged to catch up to them, leaving you alone.

never would he ever leave you stranded alone this late at night.

but there was a first time for everything.

“I hate you, jungkook. I hate that I love you. I hate you I hate you I hate you,” you whispered watching him continue to walk down the street, “I hate that I want you still.”

[joonbird]

Heartbeat | 7

➭ “You’ve always stayed far away from the Kingsnakes, the coldblooded gang that runs the dark heart of your city. That is until your life collides with the intriguing and dangerous Jung Hoseok.”

pairing: hoseok x reader

genre: gang!au, smut, angst

wordcount: 12k

part one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight | nine

** warnings: Graphic descriptions of injuries and violence, dark themes, gang activity, explicit drug references, mentions of physical abuse, mentions of death. and bathtub sex **

Sleep feels impossible tonight. 

Every muscle in Hoseok’s body is locked in place, his eyes stare listlessly into the darkness of his room. No matter what he does, no matter how many times he swears under his breath and rolls over onto one side, he can’t fall asleep. 

His mind is swirling with thoughts, thoughts that are unwanted and painful, thoughts infused with the question mark of what could’ve been, thoughts that start and end with your name on the tip of his tongue.

Hoseok has never been the type of person to reminisce on the past, largely due to his belief that reflection is unnecessary. You can’t turn back time and change the past, so why bother dwelling on it? But now, when the evening is fading into dawn, and the sky is awash with the milky blue of breaking daylight, Hoseok silently confesses that he chooses to ignore the past because it’s easier than confronting it.

The past is painful. Hoseok knows this better than anybody. He’s trained his mind to not think back on particular turning points of his life, he’s sharpened the skill of actively not remembering darker times. But ever since you came into his world, he can’t ignore his past anymore. Everything that he tried so hard to bury deep is rising to the surface.

Hoseok clutches the sheets in his hands and lets out another soft, “Fuck”. It does little to ease his racing thoughts. He thinks about you, how your eyes flash with hurt when he says things to you that are particularly cold and cruel. He thinks about how your voice sound when it whispers his name, the nape of your neck and the curve of your waist, the look of shock that painted over your features when he pressed his lips to yours for the first time.

“Stop it,” Hoseok mutters into the darkness, his voice harsh. Stop thinking about her.

Hoseok curses himself for his total lack of foresight, for his inability to see when something is good before it’s too late. He thinks he’s so cunning, so clever, when in reality he can’t see anything at all. He didn’t see you coming into his life, he didn’t see you changing his life, and he didn’t see you walking out of his life- until of course, it was too late.

Am I a bad person? The thought creeps in, and Hoseok sighs. He doesn’t know anymore. For a long time, he had just accepted that he was a bad person. Hoseok can’t recall all the times he’s done fucked up things, hurt people, received a sick sense of numbing satisfaction from affirming that yes, He had never considered the possibility that he was redeemable, that he may not be an intrinsically bad person. Until you.

Hoseok leans back on his bedframe, slumping forward until his head is in his hands. This hurts. This really, really hurts. It hurts, the way you eased into his heart with killer precision. He doesn’t know how to get you out. He doesn’t want to get you out. 

Hoseok lifts his head and absently fumbles on his nightstand table for the pack of cigarettes he keeps there, his fingers catching on the box. He hesitates, before he finally throws the box, hard, across the room. A dramatic gesture perhaps, but Hoseok couldn’t give less of a fuck right now. Cigarettes spill out onto his bedroom floor and he swears again. 

He looks at the clock, it reads 5:03AM. It’s 5AM, and he’s here, head in his hands, thinking about a woman who makes him feel a heady kind of hopefulness, a woman who taught him that there may be more to life than living fast and dying young. 

Hoseok squeezes his eyes shut and weakly tells himself to stop being such a weak motherfucking bitch, that you have left his life and it’s for the better, that you’re just another memory to lock away and forget about.

He lies awake in bed until daylight breaks over the horizon.

Twenty years ago, on a Friday evening in the middle of December, Jung Hoseok fell in love with dancing.

It was a Friday, because Friday was always the day that his Mum liked to go grocery shopping. Every Friday was like clockwork – Hoseok trailing his mother around the store while she slowly, carefully picked out boxes and cans. It was always Friday, because Hoseok’s father stayed out on Friday nights, stumbling in the house late into the evening with the sharp smell of alcohol plumed around him like smoke. 

It was during October, because the air was brisk when Hoseok slipped away from his mother and walked out of the store. It had felt like a thin film of ice was going to settle over his skin if he stayed outside for too long. 

Hoseok was certain he’d always be able to remember it. The cold that brushed over his skin, the quiet hum of the store doors closing behind him, and there – on the concrete in front of the store, a group of guys. 

They had a battered portable radio that was perched on the hood of an equally battered car, the crackly weak bass of a hip hop song filtered into the air. The group of guys were joking around, pushing each other and filling the beats of the song with their light, cloying jabs and insults – and they were dancing.

Hoseok had stared at them with wide eyes. Each movement they made was strong and bold, and they were entirely in control of their bodies. One guy, the one in the middle with a cap jammed over his hair and trackpants about two sizes too big for him, had a smile that he was struggling to contain. He was a man who was in control of each of his movements, a firm grip on the rhythm that coursed through body, controlled over everything except the smile that teased at his features. 

Hoseok’s breath was coming out in puffs of cold into the night air and he wondered, right then and there, if he could be like that one day.

It was one of those, right time, right place sort of situations. The kind of scenario where everything pieces together so exactly, that it can only be due to a stroke of luck, a twist of destiny. A red thread of fate.

Hoseok was a few days from turning sixteen when he met Z. 

His father had passed away the month prior. Hoseok had stood at his father’s funeral just last weekend, dressed in a rented suit that smelled like sweat and felt starchy on his skin, watching as people he had never met before shuffled through with tears dotted on their cheeks. Hoseok had looked up at the framed photo of his father that people were crying over, and he wondered what exactly they were crying for.

You’re nothing. His father’s voice floated into his thoughts. Hoseok squeezed his eyes shut, thinking about all the times his father had called him a loser, a coward, a ‘fucking pussy’, until finally just landing on the words that Hoseok had grown accustomed to hearing – ‘You’re nothing, Hoseok.’ 

Hoseok thought back to all the times he had seen his mother crying in the kitchen early in the morning when she thought the house was asleep, her hands bent in front of her, praying. Hoseok had always felt so tiny and powerless every time he heard his mother cry, every time his father’s fist went crunching into his cheek, every time the words You’re nothing echoed through his thoughts. 

Hoseok’s eyes had fluttered open and a few funeral-goers stared at him, eyes sympathetic and pitying. His mother, standing beside him, was crying – his baby sister in her arms. Hoseok’s father was gone, but the pressure he put on the family remained. He was gone, but all these people were still crying. Hoseok looked at the tears tracking down everyone’s faces, at the photo of his father perched high in the funeral hall.

He didn’t cry.

It was that memory that lingered in Hoseok’s mind when Sungmin approached him after school and asked him if he was free to talk. He was the same age as Hoseok, they were in the same Geometry class, yet Hoseok had never exchanged more than two words with him. 

Sungmin was something of a mystery, no one knew much about him. What Hoseok did know, however, was that Sungmin was always wearing a leather jacket that was two sizes too big for him, Sungmin was part of some newly established gang, and that Sungmin, for some reason, was standing on front of him now wanting to ‘talk’.

Sungmin was the same age as Hoseok but he felt older. He had an air of confidence about him, and he dug into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette, lighting it. He offered it to Hoseok, and even though Hoseok had never so much as touched a cigarette in his life- he took it. 

He held it gingerly in his fingers and took a drag, coughing at the feeling of smoke in his lungs. Sungmin just watched on, an amused smile on his face.

“Will you teach me how to breakdance?”

Hoseok had been momentarily surprised. Of all the questions he had been anticipating, it hadn’t been that one. What surprised him the most though, was how quickly he answered back, his response.

“Okay.”

Sungmin was a slow learner. He was a clumsy dancer. He also, surprisingly enough, evolved from classmate to friend. 

Hoseok learned a lot about Sungmin when they met up after school. He learned that Sungmin wanted to learn how to dance because his girlfriend, Lorna, had mentioned she liked breakdancers. He learned that Sungmin had a short fuse and a tendency to spew filthy swear words when he couldn’t get a move right.

He learned that Sungmin’s chest puffed out in pride whenever he talked about his friends, the gang that he was currently being initiated into. ‘The Kingsnakes,’ Sungmin would say, struggling to keep a cool expression on his face, ‘That’s our name, by the way.’ 

Hoseok had learned that Sungmin, when he found something unbearably funny, slapped his hand over his mouth and laughed silently, shoulders shaking up and down. 

He wasn’t sure when it happened, but it did – somewhere along the way he had become friends with the other boy. It was a realization he had when he was leaning against the wall of the warehouse one school night with Sungmin, smoking cigarettes and discussing whether it was worth staying in school, or dropping out. 

“You never smoke them properly.” Sungmin had complained, pointing his cigarette butt at Hoseok accusingly. “You’ve gotta inhale. Yoongi taught me that.”

Hoseok wrinkled his nose, watching as the other boy took a deep drag, exhaling a mouthful of smoke with exaggerated confidence.

“Yoongi?”

Sungmin hummed in response. “Yep. He’s the leader of the Kingsnakes.”

Hoseok’s mouth opened into a small ‘o’. He stared at the cigarette in his hands, the glowing embers falling to the ground.

“Sungmin, will you introduce me to him? Yoongi, I mean.”

“Z,” Sungmin corrected. Hoseok looked up questioningly and Sungmin shrugged.

“Call me Z. It’s a new nickname I’m trying.”

“Loser.” Hoseok rolled his eyes and Sungmin grinned, staring at his friend thoughtfully.

“Yeah, I’ll introduce you. You’ll owe me, though.”

Hoseok nodded, feeling a thrill start in his spine. He didn’t know why he was asking to meet Yoongi, he didn’t know why he was here with Sungmin, all he did know was that he felt good. He felt like he belonged, like he wasn’t a kid anymore, like he was taking charge of his life.

He picked up the cigarette and inhaled properly. It burned in his lungs and it made his head spin, he fought the urge to cough as he exhaled all the smoke. It cloaked his vision and somewhere through the haze, he heard the almost silent strains of Sungmin’s laughter.

Min Yoongi was not what Hoseok had expected. He had hair that was dyed an unnatural shade of ice blue, and eyes that gazed him up and down suspiciously upon first glance. 

“Who’s this?” 

Yoongi didn’t direct the question to him, glancing over instead at Z who was standing by Hoseok’s side.

“My friend. Wanted to meet you.” 

And just like that, Yoongi’s eyes were back on him. Hoseok squirmed uncomfortably.

“Why did you want to meet me?”

Hoseok’s voice was pitchy, it gave away his nerves as he spoke.

“I was wondering if I could hang around with you guys.”

Yoongi just raised an eyebrow.

“…You guys?”

Hoseok’s face flushed and he nodded. “The… the Kingsnakes.”

For a long moment, Yoongi just stared at Hoseok, a perplexed expression on his face before he sighed.

“Yeah, whatever. You can hang round with us if you want.” Yoongi’s voice was bored, and Hoseok nodded eagerly. 

“But if you’re going to do that, you need to understand that there’s nothing more important to me than loyalty. Whether you’re going to hang round for a little bit or longer, at the end of the day, all I ask for, and all I expect, is loyalty. Whatever you see, whatever goes down – it’s between us and us only. Understood?” He spoke slowly, still with that bored tone- but Hoseok didn’t miss the steeliness in his words. 

“Yeah, I… I understand.” 

He must have passed whatever test Yoongi was giving because the older boy relaxed, but kept eyeing him curiously. 

“So, why do you want in with the Kingsnakes, kid? You want money, drugs, friends? What is it?” 

Hoseok sensed Sungmin’s eyes on him too, and he shrugged.

“I just don’t want to feel like I’m nothing.” He said honestly, to which Yoongi just let out a soft hum in response.

After that, Hoseok’s life became something like a whirlwind of firsts. 

The first kiss, exchanged at a Kingsnake party with some girl from another school who had crawled into his lap and kissed him. 

The first time he had done drugs, a tiny bump of cocaine that he snorted while wedged between Yoongi and a few of the other members at a party.  

The first time he skipped class, spending the day hanging around with some of the guys and getting high, enjoying it so much that he eventually stopped going to class altogether. 

The first time he fucked a girl, thrusting into her, his body using hers, feeling invincible. 

The first time Yoongi asked him to help out, to keep watch for a drug deal. That had also been the first time Yoongi had slapped his shoulder and grinned at him, telling him he was alright. 

The first time Hoseok was handed an envelope stuffed with bills, feeling a rush of excitement because that money was his, he had earned it. It was the first time Hoseok felt secure, powerful, like maybe he had someplace where he belonged. 

The first time a needle touched his skin, inking a snake onto his wrist. The first time his mother saw the tattoo and teared up, asking Hoseok if he was safe.

The first time he and a few of the guys beat up another guy for ratting on them. The first time he punched someone’s jaw. The first time he saw Z’s eyes flash with simmering lust, punching until Yoongi told him in a sharp tone, Enough.

The first time Hoseok felt uncertainty about his decision to join the Kingsnakes. The first time he questioned whether he had made the right choices, whether his past was doomed to repeat itself. 

“Yoongi likes you.” Z muttered to him on the night of his eighteenth birthday. “He’s always picking you to be his backup him in deals and shit.”

The two had slipped outside for a cigarette, standing shoulder by shoulder in the brisk air. Lorna, Z’s girlfriend, had joined them at first before she too slipped back inside, complaining about the cold weather. 

“Yoongi?” Hoseok echoed. Z just grunted. Hoseok cocked his head to the side, considered those words.

“You’re probably next in line to run the group, at this point.” Z added.

Hoseok had turned to his friend, whose face was lit only by the red embers. Ash fell to the ground and Hoseok shrugged in response. He felt good, his body was buzzed, he felt like something, like he was something. He thought back on the tiny, frightened kid he used to be and a wry smile tugged on his lips.

“Nah. That’s all you, Sungmin.” 

Z let out a loud scoff, reaching over and giving Hoseok a feeble punch. “You loser.” He laughed. “Come on, let’s go inside. It’s fucking freezing.”

A few weeks later, Hoseok stood outside Yoongi’s house, shivering and muttering complaints under his breath.

“Stupid motherfucking Min Yoongi asks me to drop something off and then doesn’t even answer the door,” Hoseok mumbled, walking down the driveway. “Fuck, it’s cold.” He paused once he got to his bike, sighing in annoyance as he turned around, walking directly past the front door and weaving his way through the gate. 

He had been to Yoongi’s house several times, and when he got to the back door, it was, as expected, unlocked. He stepped into the house, holding the package under his arms. The house was quiet, his footsteps heavy on the floor. 

“Hoseok?” 

Yoongi padded out, dressed just in a pair of black jocks. “What are you- just, get out of here, I’m busy today.”

His voice was harsh and Hoseok cringed, throwing the package down on the kitchen table. “Yeah sorry, it’s all there, the delivery, the guy-”

“Yoongi?” A female voice cut faintly through Hoseok’s words. Hoseok froze.

He recognized that voice.

He glanced over at Yoongi questioningly and the stricken look on the other man’s face said it all.

“Yoongi…. Is that…” Hoseok breathed.

“Fuck,” Yoongi swore.

Hoseok closed and opened his mouth.

“Don’t say anything,” Yoongi asked in a low voice, he pinched the bridge of his nose. “You won’t say anything, Hoseok?” He looked up and for the first time Hoseok saw Yoongi not as the strong, invincible leader of the group but as he was – vulnerable and broken. 

“Okay.” Hoseok muttered dumbly. Yoongi nodded and the two men stared at each other tensely before Hoseok turned and walked out of the back door. 

He half expected Yoongi to come barreling behind him, but he was met with nothing but silence. He got to his motorcycle, still perched by the driveway.

Hoseok recognized that voice, husky and distinctive. Hoseok saw it in the panic that crossed over Yoongi’s face, the pleading tone of his voice.

It was Lorna. Z’s girlfriend.

“Fuck,” Hoseok muttered. “Fuck!”

Anger, fear, hot and uncomfortable emotion swelled in his chest as Hoseok kicked his bike. 

The resounding pain that went through his leg just intensified the frustration, but there was nothing he could do about the pain. It was too late, and what had been done, was done. 

Months later, it was summer. The days were long and hot, and the air felt still. It was the calm before the storm.

Hoseok spent the majority of his days in a sticky, clouded haze. He was stretched out on the couch, his mind comfortably blurry when he heard his front door slam open. 

He didn’t bother locking it half the time, today was one of those days, and he glanced up blearily. It was Z, and Hoseok sat up, yawning.

“What’s up dude? Haven’t seen you round last few days.”

Z was agitated, Hoseok could sense it from the moment that he walked in the room. Z didn’t respond immediately, pacing back and forth before he finally flopped down on the chair opposite Hoseok.

“Found out that Min fucking Yoongi was screwing my girlfriend behind my back.”

Hoseok’s blood turned to ice. 

Z let out an emphatic, “Fuck” before he sighed, leaning back on the chair.

“I… how?” Hoseok asked, his voice sounding faint to his own ears.

Z didn’t answer, his eyes closed. “Does it matter?” 

“Where…. Where is Yoongi now? Have you talked to him?”

Z opened one eye. A smile spread across his face, and he shrugged.

“That’s just the thing. I was going to talk to him about it, but you’ll never believe it. Turns out there was an oxygen bubble in his bloodstream. He’s dead.”

Dead? 

Hoseok could hear the blood in his ears. Z closed his eyes again and shrugged.

“Freak accident. Crazy, right?” 

Hoseok’s throat was dry. He sunk back down onto the couch, his head spinning.

And there it was. The sound of Z’s silent, dry laughter. Hoseok could recognize it anywhere. Hoseok felt dread start to pool in the pit of his stomach as Z spoke, his words low and dangerous like the rattle of a snake.

“There’s nothing more important than loyalty, right?”

Hoseok didn’t answer, pushing off of the couch.

“Need a cigarette.” He mumbled. He knew it was a stupid excuse, for God’s sake he smoked in his house, but he needed fresh air. He needed to clear his stupid, clouded, jumbled thoughts, because Yoongi was dead. Yoongi was dead. Hoseok’s mind was racing with thoughts as he pushed open his front door and walked down the driveway.

An oxygen bubble? In his bloodstream?

Hoseok’s hands were trembling as he walked down his street, he furtively glanced behind his shoulder to ensure no one was tailing him. He pulled out his phone, holding it to his ear. The moment it clicked, he spoke.

“Lorna, Yoongi’s dead.” 

There was a shocked silence on the end of the line. Hoseok didn’t let it linger, speaking rapidly.

“Get out of here, okay?”

He heard a choked sound on the other line, an almost animal like cry. He didn’t dwell on it, he squeezed the phone tighter, feeling his heart thump in his chest.

“Lorna, do you understand me? Get the fuck out of here, alright?”

She was crying, and Hoseok hung up, his hands trembling. 

He had no idea why he had done that, he didn’t owe Lorna anything. He didn’t owe anyone anything. Except Z.

Z. Hoseok stood, frozen, as he looked behind his shoulder again. The street was empty, but he felt a hum of paranoia and fear race through his veins as he turned off his phone, trying to settle his shaking hands as he turned and walked back into the house.

He walked back inside his living room, feeling his muscles tense up. Z was still sitting in that same chair, he didn’t look up as Hoseok returned to the couch.

“So, we’ve got the Deckard deal next week. You’ll help?” Z began, and Hoseok glanced up. Their eyes met and Hoseok swallowed. 

You can still run, Hoseok.

He nodded. 

I can’t run.

“Good.” Z glanced back at the TV and Hoseok stared at him. He and Z were friends. He owed Z, it was Z who had pulled him into the web of the Kingsnakes, it was that web that had given him power, money, helped him pull himself and his family out of debt.

Hoseok negotiated in his head that really, nothing had changed. The Kingsnakes would remain the same, even with Z at the helm. That Yoongi’s death really was a freak accident. Things wouldn’t worsen, they couldn’t.

I won’t run.

“Hoseok, you didn’t know about Yoongi and Lorna, did you?”

Hoseok felt his heart stutter. His stomach twisted, as he looked up, meeting Z’s gaze.

“No, I didn’t.”

I can’t run.

Z smiled, satisfied, and nodded. “Good.”

I can’t fucking run.

Hoseok sat still, feeling utterly paralyzed. For the first time in years, he felt that insidious, horrible feeling inside of his chest, that voice, telling him that he was nothing. And the red thread of fate that tied him as a ten year old kid to dancing had been cut. 

It was replaced by the black threads of the Kingsnakes, woven tightly around him until he could no longer breathe.

The moment you enter Taehyung’s hospital room, you gasp. 

A sharp, involuntary intake of breath that draws everyone’s attention on you. Your eyes scan over the room – at Ara, who gazes at you with an expression that is saturated with disappointment and hurt, at the police officers who eye you with suspicion, at a nurse who hones in on you as soon as you enter.

“I’m sorry, but you’re outside of visiting hours.” Her clipboard is tucked under her arm, her hair slicked back into a low bun. “Only direct family are permitted here, you’ll have to come back tomorrow.”

“She is family.”

The voice interrupts before you can respond. It’s Taehyung. Your eyes meet his and he smiles tiredly at you. 

Your heart gives out in your chest when you see him, at the faded bruised rings that mar his face, at the way his chest heaves delicately with each breath. 

“She’s not-” Ara begins, but Taehyung just continues to speak.

“She’s family. Nurse,” Taehyung glances away to smile politely at the nurse. “Could I have five minutes with her?”

The nurse grumbles, you hear the soft strains of her voice and Ara’s but eventually, she nods. The police officers stand up and leave first, their eyes beady and intent on you as they shuffle out of the room, before the others follow. You try to meet Ara’s gaze but she stares away from you pointedly, and you feel a twist in your chest.

Finally, the room is empty. You glance at Taehyung, he smiles at you and nods to the chair that is perched beside his bed. “Sit down.” 

Your legs feel wooden as you walk over, lowering yourself into the plastic chair.

The room elapses into silence, a silence that is broken only by the quiet electronic beat of Taehyung’s heart monitor.

“Tae-”

“Are you-”

You both start speaking at once, faltering when your voices overlap. Taehyung chuckles, shifts in bed. “You go first.”

You glance up, meeting Taehyung’s eyes. He looks so frail like this, mottled splashes of purple fading beneath his skin, pale lips, a smile on his face. Your eyes linger on the IV drip that threads into his skin and you swallow.

“I’m sorry.”

You whisper the words like they’re a secret.

Taehyung clicks his tongue softly. “What are you apologizing for?”

“I… what happened to you, I-”

“What happened is just a case of wrong time, wrong place. Nothing more than that. Just some thugs who were high on drugs and wanted some quick cash.”

Taehyung speaks quickly, his voice low and calm and you shake your head, tears beginning to strain at the back of your throat. Taehyung’s voice rises a little, speeds up a touch, “Really, it was just bad luck. Thank God for insurance, right? The doctors said I’ll heal up in no time too so-“

”Tae.” You say his name and Taehyung falls silent. “It was the Kingsnakes. They-”

“I know it was them.”

A silence settles between the two of you and Taehyung’s fingers, trembling, run over the IV drip in the centre of his hand. For the first time since it was just the two of you in this room, Taehyung looks away. You keep your eyes on him, seeing the rapid blink of his eyes, the way his lips move as if he’s talking silently. He’s trying not to cry, trying to hold himself together even now when his body is on the brink of falling apart. Your chest aches and the raw ache at the back of your throat intensifies.

“I’m not going to tell the police anything about them. I haven’t. And I won’t.”

“Taehyung, you didn’t have to do that.”

“Yeah,” Taehyung’s voice is hoarse. “I did. I’m not saying a word. I’m not putting you in danger. There’s no evidence. It’s better to not say anything.”

“Taehyung this is serious.” The words come out harsher than intended and Taehyung finally looks up again, his eyes uncharacteristically steely. 

“I know it’s not a game. It’s your life, and…” His eyes are wet with tears and he looks so young that your heart twists and tears finally start threatening to spill in your eyes, because this is Taehyung, the Taehyung you have known since you were a kid, the Taehyung who was always older and cooler and never afraid of anything, “…the thought of your life being at risk... I can’t, I just can’t.” 

He swallows hard and stares determinedly at the grey hospital blanket draped over his lap. You feel a twist right in your gut, a pain like a knife slicing through butter. 

Taehyung, staring down at the ground, his eyes wavering with tears that he is fighting to hold back, the steady beep of his heart-rate monitor, the sterile smell of the hospital filling your nostrils and locking around you hard and fast. 

It feels like your mind is going a million miles a minute, different emotions tugging you into different places. You think about Taehyung, who is protecting you even now, who is doing the wrong thing for you. Guilt in the sharpest sense needles at you. 

You think about the fists that crunched with a ferocity you’ll never know right into the small of Taehyung’s face, of the half burned down gallery that now sits in your city, of X’s flat eyes staring into you. It’s a world you don’t understand, that you don’t belong in, a world that has grasped onto you and no matter how hard you want to, you can’t seem to shake off yourself. You feel fear, a rendering of fear so awful and deep-settled that you can’t shake it away. 

The sound of Taehyung shifting in place has you breaking out of your reverie.

Taehyung sighs. He reaches up and then stops, he is unable to run his fingers through his shaggy fringe. He stares at the thick, alabaster plaster wrapped around his hand.

“I just...” His voice is raspy, he swallows hard. “Do you love him?”

You gaze at Taehyung and you can see it etched right there in the slightest quiver of his lips. All of the ways a soul can hurt, scatterd there like kisses or bruises. 

Taehyung is composed of light and clarity. Hoseok is the utter opposite - he is the tiniest of moans that escapes your lips when he presses his mouth to the shell of your ear, he is a heady and wickedly uncontrollable tempo, he is a dark place where you can unravel new threads, pieces of you that you had alwys been too afraid to confront in the past. 

While everyone else is safety, Hoseok is freedom.

Taehyung smiles at you. Barely - the slightest twinge of his lips, a crease of his eyes. You are sure it hurts, that reassuring smile painted on a face as sore and bruised as his. But he smiles anyway, because he is Taehyung. And for a moment your heart aches, because it occurs to you how easy it would be to love somebody as safe and sweet as Kim Taehyung.

“Yes.” You keep your eyes steady on Taehyung. You feel your heart constrict, because is it a cop out, to rattle out the words ‘you can’t choose who you love?’ if you could choose to love Hoseok, would you? You think about him, Hoseok and his dark, desperate eyes when you had turned away from him just hours ago. If you could choose who you love, would you still choose him?

Your chest is tight, and you think to yourself that if someone could crack open your body, they would likely find a kingsnake coiled in between your ribs, its body wrapped firmly around your heart.

"Yes,” You murmur. “I love him.”

You glance up to see Taehyung’s reaction. He looks up, stares at you. His face is carefully passive, his eyes searching yours for a split second before he speaks.

“Does he love you?”

It’s a question that catches you offguard. You stay still for a moment, your mouth closes and opens. 

“I… I don’t know,” You answer honestly. A corner of your heart peels backwards, sings out silently that he does, I hope he does. 

“Do you trust him?”

Taehyung keeps his eyes on yours and you nod. 

“I do.” Your voice breaks off into a small, sad laugh. “I don’t know if I can trust myself, though.”

Taehyung doesn’t speak immediately, the beep of his monitor feels the space.

“Trust your instincts,” He says finally. You think to yourself that you can’t, that you can’t trust yourself, your heart, even your mind. 

“I’m scared to.” The words come out as the barest of whispers as tears prick your eyes. Taehyung leans forward and his bandaged hand brushes against your wrist. 

“Don’t be scared of trusting yourself.” He says softly. “I know a lot of people in my position wouldn’t tell you this. Usually, when a guy loves a girl, the last thing they want is to see her with somebody else.” His eyes flicker, he glances at you and you understand what he’s trying to tell you. His eyes search yours for a split second, looking for something, before his face breaks into a small, sad smile.

“Look… if there’s something there, a spark, a feeling, a flame… don’t throw it away because of fear. The only person who truly knows your heart is you. The only person who truly owns your heart is you. So… trust yourself, okay?” 

Tears drip down your cheeks. You nod, your bottom lip wobbles, you tell yourself not to cry but the tears only drip faster and fatter down your cheeks.

“Okay.”

Your voice is strained and thick with tears, and you glance up at Taehyung. His eyes are wet too, and you stand up, leaning forward to wrap your arms around your friend.

Taehyung’s hair brushes your cheek and you can tell he’s crying from the wet tears that drip onto your shoulder. You can feel it when you are standing this close to him, how much pain he’s holding inside, how much fear and loss. 

You are full of blame, guilt and confusion, but you stay close to Tae, holding him in a hug. Telling him, in a way that only you can with somebody you’ve known as long as you’ve known Kim Taehyung, that you’re sorry. 

You pull away and Taehyung’s tears have subsided, as have your own.

“I just... This s a whole other league, and I… just be careful. Of them. Of all of it. Be careful. You know that, right?“ 

You don’t miss the worry that infuses Taehyung’s tone. You reach out and hold his hand. The plaster is rough under your palm and you nod, tears spilling down your cheeks. 

“I know.”

Once you are outside of the hospital, you cradle your phone in your hands.

Logically, you know that the smart thing to do is to put your phone back in your pocket and to go home. The right thing to do on paper is to write off Hoseok as just a fleeting mistake, to turn away from him for good.

But you can’t. You don’t want to. 

You think about Taehyung’s words, about the spark, and the flame, and you think about Jung Hoseok. You don’t know what is it about him, but you don’t want to let go of it. You don’t want to let go of him. And it is that thought that you have in mind as you press dial and lift the phone to your ear.  

The phone rings out and you feel your mouth go slack with nerves.

“Hey.” Hoseok’s voice is cautious as he answers, you swallow.

“Can I see you?”

There’s a silence across the line and then Hoseok clears his throat.

“Uh… okay. I’m at my place, do you want to come over? Or I can meet you-” 

“Your place is fine. Can you text me the address?”

You hear Hoseok swallow, mumble out a soft “Sure”. You tell him you’ll see him soon, as you hang up and hail a taxi, wondering if the decision you’re making is the right one. 

The drive isn’t long, you are wrapped up in your thoughts about Hoseok and the gravity of the situation. You pull up to Hoseok’s house, and see him sitting on his front step. He’s dressed casually, a black tee and black jeans, and he stands up when you approach.

“Why are you here?” 

His question is careful and you stop in front of him. 

“You said you don’t lose me.” You say quietly, and Hoseok nods. “I don’t want to lose you either. I just… feel scared when I think about what exactly I’m losing. Is it the real you, or the you I want you to be?”

Hoseok stares at you and then glances away, his eyes downcast.

“The real me isn’t great.” He says in a short voice. “But with you I was… I was always the real me. If that’s what you’re asking.”

The two of you just stare at one another and Hoseok sighs. 

“Is your friend okay?”

“He’s not going to say anything to the police if that’s what-”

“Hey. I wasn’t going to ask that. I was asking because I actually want to know.”

Hoseok has one eyebrow raised and you falter.

“You actually care about him?”

You can’t help but sound bitter.

“I care about you, so, yeah. I guess I do care about him.” 

Hoseok’s words has your resolve crumpling, and the composed expression slips from Hoseok’s face as he steps forward.

“Hey, I…” Hoseok bites his lip. “Fuck, I’m the worst with this kind of thing. I…” His voice raises with each word and then he pulls you into his arms in an uncertain hug. You inhale him, feel his arms encircle you, crying into the crook of his shoulder. Hoseok just runs a hand along the centre of your back in circles, until finally, the tears subside.

You pull away from him and Hoseok peers down at you. “You look exhausted.” Hoseok says brusquely, “Have you slept? Showered?” 

You shake your head, and Hoseok nods. “Look. Come in, do all of that stuff, and then we can talk about whatever… okay?” 

“Okay.”

Hoseok whirls around and walks up the stairs to his house, and you follow.

“Bathroom’s down that way, kitchen’s through the hall if you want something to eat. Alright?” Hoseok looks uncertain for a moment and you nod, heading to the bathroom.

You close the door behind you and stare at your reflection, feeling your frayed nerves start to settle. You turn the tap on for the bathtub, letting the small bathroom fill up with steam, your thoughts slowing and your breathing evening out as you pull off your clothes and turn off the tap, lowering yourself into the tub. The water is hot, soothing, and it pulls away at the tension gathered inside of your chest. 

“You alright?” Hoseok’s voice calls out from the hallway, and you glance at the closed door. 

“Can you come in for a second?” You call out, and the door opens. You hug your legs to your chest, covering yourself as Hoseok walks in. 

“What did you think when I walked up to you the first time we met?”

“Honest answer?”

You nod. Hoseok tilts his head to one side, staring at you before he lets out a sigh.

“I thought you were trying really hard to prove something to yourself.” He murmurs. “I thought you were hot too.” He adds, smiling faintly for a second. 

“But you didn’t care about me then, right? At the start?”

Hoseok bites his lip. You rush to fill in the spaces.

“Honest answer again, please.”

Hoseok gazes at you and nods slowly. “At the start, yeah. I didn’t.” 

“So what changed from then to now? What makes how you felt about me then, different to how you felt about me now?”

Hoseok leans against the bathroom wall, swallows. “I don’t really know what it is.” He says eventually. “But the more I got to know you, the more things changed. I like how being with you makes me feel. I care about you and I want you to be safe and happy. I miss you when you’re not with me. I don’t want to just fuck you, I… dunno, wanna spend time with you.” 

You don’t answer, staring at Hoseok. 

“I’m scared.” You whisper. You don’t explain what you are scared of. You don’t put into words that you’re scared of loving him, that you’re scared of trusting him, of being vulnerable. That even though you’re scared, you still want him.

“I’m scared too.” Hoseok responds. “Of a lot of things, actually. But I feel less scared when I’m with you.”

His voice breaks and he shakes his head. “Sorry, that was cheesy as fuck.” He mutters, but a smile slips across his face.

The honesty in his words takes you by surprise and you hug your knees to your chest. He tilts his head back, and you stare at him and try to remember how to breathe. Because like this, when he’s standing in front of you, eyes creased in the corners, a smile soaked in an effortless, easy kind of happiness, arms folded and those clavicles peeking out from the neck of his black tee… you haven’t taken a breath, you can’t take a breath.

“I…” Your voice speaks of its own accord, his eyes hone in on yours and you let out a shaky mouthful of air, the words tumble out before you can quite stop them, “Join me.”

Hoseok pauses and his eyes flicker over to the tub that you are perched in. You have slept with him what feels like countless of times, you have the imprint of Hoseok’s bare body stamped in your mind, but there is something about this moment right now that has the breath seeping out of you and a tremble deep in your bones. 

Hoseok doesn’t speak, he just clears his voice. 

“Really?”

You nod, draw your knees in to your chest. Hoseok gazes at you for a prolonged moment, and then reaches behind his body, his fingers grasping at the back of his tee to pull it off of his head in one clean motion. 

You see it- the flex of his torso, his taut, lean stomach, the dip of his collarbones and his fingers as they tug off his black jeans. You’ve seen it, you know it, but still your heart hammers hard and fast in your chest.

Hoseok pulls off his pants, revealing his thighs, strong and muscled. His hips, they twist as he throws his clothes carelessly in the corner of the bathroom, he steps towards the bathtub and steps in until he is seated opposite you.

You immediately close the space, inch closer to him until your knees are touching, and he lets out a soft sigh. You watch as he reaches up and runs a hand through his hair, the water keeps his hair slicked back and off his forehead.

He cocks his head down at you. 

“You’re an idiot.” He murmurs, but there is no malice in his words. Instead, he sounds oddly breathless, his voice so husky and soft that you can only just make out the words. 

“I’m an idiot?” You repeat, your features wrinkling into a delicately affronted expression. 

Hoseok nods, his face is a mixture of emotions that you place for split seconds, like rolling waves, one replacing the other – intensity, vulnerability, tenderness, affection. 

He cards his fingers through his hair, shakes his fringe out of his eyes, the snake on his wrist disappears under the water’s surface. 

You feel your breath catch in your throat, a tremble working its way up your thighs and locking tight around your stomach like a band. He hovers in front of you, oozing a dark and dangerous charisma. Your eyes linger over his shoulders, the curve of his collarbones, his taut stomach.

Neither of you speak. You just stare at one another. Here, seated opposite one other in an old, cracked bathtub, it feels as if time is still. 

He reaches out and presses his palms gently, carefully, around your face. His fingers skim over your jaw, until he is holding you in his hands and his eyes are searching yours. He is looking for protest that you don’t give, before he finally leans in.

Hoseok kisses you slowly. It’s something you aren’t used to with him – you are accustomed to hurried, hungered kisses. This is slow, languid almost- his lips careful and a bit clumsy against yours, his palms still cupping your face. Right there into the curve of your lips he lets out a sigh and his body relaxes. 

At the sound of it- the throaty sigh of release deep from within his belly, you lean in closer, chasing into the feel of his lips. Hoseok responds, his hands sliding from your cheeks to rake into your hair. 

It occurs to you in a fleeting thought just how well he can read you now, how your body responds almost instinctively to his. 

The water splashes quietly against the side of the tub as his hands comb through your hair down to the centre of your back. He tugs you closer to him so that your body folds on top of his, he stretches his legs out along the expanse of the tub.

His skin glides against yours underneath the water, you begin to feel a slow knock between your legs as his hands massage intently against the small of your back. You let out a tiny groan and pull away for a moment to glance at him – Hoseok, his hair wet and slicked off of his face, droplets of water on his skin. 

His hands are still tight against the slip of your waist, he kneads his fingers harder into the curve right above your ass and you let out a tiny, stuttered moan. Your face is only inches away from Hoseok’s and he keeps his eyes locked on yours, his breath ghosting over your lips.

“Do you want me?”

It’s a simple question, his voice low and tilting, but for once there is no teasing note at the end of his words, the smirk gone from his lips. Your breath shudders out, you can feel your lust knocking between your legs as you stare into his dark eyes. His face is utterly serious, his eyes dark with desire and intensity.

“Yes,” You breathe out, and Hoseok’s eyes flicker, his tongue licks over his lips.

“Yes,” You repeat, watching as a muscle in his jaw twitches. He lets out a tiny groan and captures your lips in another kiss. 

You kiss him back hungrily, letting out moans in between kisses as Hoseok pulls your body even closer to his, growls against your lips as his hands curve around to cup your ass.

Hoseok breaks away from your mouth, he doesn’t stop, his mouth trailing down and stamping hot kisses along the curve of your jaw, down the slope of your neck. You are trembling, the thud between your legs dangerous and familiar as you adjust your hips. 

Letting out a soft whine, you rock your hips, feeling the smooth friction of his thigh against your cunt. 

A loud moan spills out of your mouth at the feeling of contact against your sensitive core, at the barest thread of pleasure and relief it offers. You grind against him harder, it only makes the ache worsen, and Hoseok lets out a growl right into the base of your ear.

“You’re such a fucking tease,” He says in a low voice. “Hmm? Rubbing that pretty cunt all over me?” 

You breathe in sharp and quick at the sound of his voice, raspy in your ear, the grip of his fingers on your ass. He smirks when he hears the ragged whine that escapes your lips as you swallow hard.

He reaches between your bodies and his hand slides over your inner thigh. You let out a begging sound, the ache growing more intense between your legs.

“I want you, Hoseok,” You choke out and Hoseok lets out a low hum, pressing his body closer to yours. 

The water laps at the sides of the tub as he nears closer to you, his mouth inches from yours, his palm still flat on the inside of your thigh. 

The sides of his knuckles graze at your sensitive core and your breath pitches in, lust pooling in your body. You tilt your hips upwards, desperate to feel more of his touch against you. 

Hoseok’s dark eyes stare into yours, his hair wet, drops of water slowly sliding down his face. Your heart is hammering your chest, your thighs tensed, your core aching and throbbing for him. Hoseok leans in and presses his lips to yours carefully, as his fingers inch closer. 

The tip of his pinky carefully caresses over your slit and you fall apart into his kiss.

“Sit up.” 

He murmurs it into your lips and you hesitate, pausing before he says it again, more forcefully.

“Sit up would you?”

“W-why?” 

“Just… just sit on the edge of the tub. That end, princess.” His voice is impatient, but softens as he uses the nickname. You push yourself off of him reluctantly and stand, sitting down on the edge of the tub with your back against the wall.

As your back touches the cold tile, Hoseok heads towards you. 

His hands brush over your ankles in the water, his palms smoothing over your calves. Your breath rushes in as he slowly moves up your legs, until his palms are canvassing your inner thighs, his fingertips grazing carefully over your pussy.

Your back is stiff, desperately arched, as Hoseok glides his hands back down your legs. It feels as if your entire body is on edge, wanting him to touch you, the gnawing ache between your legs wicked and intense. 

His fingers journey up over your inner calves, your thighs, resting by your knees before he pushes. 

You glance down, taking in the visual of your legs spread, Hoseok between your thighs.

You swallow hard, a new punch of lust searing through your body.

“H-Hoseok,” You stammer out his name and Hoseok gazes right at you, his lips quirked into that same slow smirk, his eyes intent on yours. 

“Yes?” He murmurs, leaning down and pressing his lips teasingly to your knee. 

“I…” Your voice thins as he inches forward, presses his lips against the soft skin of your hip. You tremble as Hoseok places his hands on the inside of both of your thighs, spreading your legs apart wider.

You can’t think of words,  your thoughts fading out into an incorrigible mess of emotions as Hoseok leans in, his words come out softly against your spread cunt.

“Is there something you’re trying to say?” He gazes up at you from between your legs. 

Your breath comes out in ragged gasps, the knock between your legs intense and all consuming. Hoseok gazes right at you, dark eyes tracked on your face, his mouth only centimetres away from your pussy. Fuck. 

You press your head against the back of the wall, clench your thighs, let out a shaky breath. The word breezes out between your lips.

“Please…”

Hoseok lets out a moan and glances down, staring at your core. 

“God,” He mutters softly, “I love hearing you beg.” He swallows before he leans in even closer.

His tongue wetly traces up your slit. The sensation of his tongue against you has you twitching your hips, your hands grip the edge of the porcelain tub. Hoseok’s tongue, tasting all up of your wetness, ends by your clit, you cry out as he hums, pulling himself away.

“Feel good?”

His voice barely registers as his tongue finds your pussy yet again. He presses the flat of his tongue against your clit, tracing down your inner thigh. His tongue is coaxing, flicking slow patterns around your clit. You throb from how good it feels, his mouth on you, Hoseok between your legs letting out soft moans, his shoulders flexing as he reaches up and slides his finger into your walls.

You feel your belly start to coil tightly as Hoseok pushes the entirety of his finger slick into you. His tongue continues to work needy circles around your pussy as he pushes his finger in and out of you. 

The rhythm is slow at first, teasing, the rock of his finger fucking you out and the lapping of his tongue against your folds. The sensation of him pushing his finger inside of you has you gasping, your legs stiffening, while the softness of his tongue has your deep-seated urgency unravelling at the seams.

You tip your head back hard against the wall as Hoseok slips another finger inside of you. His thumb darts in to massage teasingly around your clit, his touch is hard and punishing, almost making you cry at the sensitivity before his tongue is there to gloss over the ache. 

“I’m going to cum,” You pant out, turning your head to the side so that your cheek is pressed flat against the cool ceramic tile of the bathroom wall.

Hoseok doesn’t stop, he rubs his thumb against your clit harder, works his tongue deeper into you.

The back and forth has your back stiffening desperately, the throb causing your mouth to fall open as the high rides over your body, breaking in euphoric waves as you moan out his name.

“Fuck!” Your voice shakes as Hoseok tilts his head back, his eyes on yours as he sits up, still between your legs. 

You let out a strangled, wanton moan, your orgasm washing over your skin as Hoseok chases into you, his lips close to yours when he whispers, “You look so hot when you cum…” He lets out a possessive moan as he kisses you, deep and long before he groans out, “I want to fuck you.”

His words make you moan. Your eyes flutter open as you gaze at him. The glow of your orgasm, and him, hair wet, mouth glossy with your wetness, the lust hungry in his eyes, has something snapping inside of you.

“Fuck me,” You breathe out, “I want you to fuck me until I can’t walk.”

Hoseok’s hands grip around your thighs at your words as he tugs you down until you are back in the tub, the water splashing as he kisses you deep and rough, his tongue domineering as his hands squeeze your hips so hard that you can’t help but gasp breathlessly into the kiss. 

He breaks away and kisses down your jaw hard, peppering his mouth against your neck and against your pulsepoint. You whine as his lips clamp down at your neck, sucking at the skin there before he jerks his head up, his lips by your ear.

“Turn around.” His demand is spoken lowly and you feel a shaky spin of lust and excitement grip you as you turn around, no longer facing him. 

Hoseok immediately crooks his body behind yours, his hands roaming your front, grabbing at your breasts and squeezing hard. His fingers find your nipple and he skims over your hard nipple with his fingertips, teasing out a choked moan for you as he pinches down, his lips at your ear again. 

“You missed me fucking you like this?”

He reaches up between your breasts, one hand on your neck, the other shifting to your left breast, stroking your nipple as you nod desperately, breathing out a shaky, fevered yes.

He pulls away, his palm is on your back and you move, shifting until you are bent forward. The tile is hard against your knees and Hoseok lets out a growl, moving so that he is directly behind you. 

You feel as if you are unraveling, your body tensed and desperate for him to fuck you. The tip of his cock is right at your slit, and you shake.

“Please,” You moan out, your lean forward, propping your ass up higher in the air, wanting, needing him to fuck you. 

“Fuck, I love hearing you beg for it,” Hoseok murmurs in a throaty voice and the words spill out desperate and heavy as you arch your back even more.

“Please fuck me, God, I’ll do anything, please-”

He pushes himself inside of you mid-sentence and you break off into a loud moan, feeling his cock stretch you out, his hips snapping into you hard and fast.

You can hear him groaning in your ear at the feeling of your walls around him, and the fullness of him inside of you as you mewling out in pleasure.

Hoseok doesn’t give you time to fully settle into the feeling of his cock as he slams his hips against yours, snapping his hips upward so that you feel all of him inside of you, you whine at the pain of it, the satisfying hum of pleasure as he groans, right into the shell of your ear. 

“You feel so fucking good, God.” He thrusts harder, deeper, and you feel your breath hitch in.

“And you tasted so fucking good.” His voice is rough, hoarse as he keeps fucking into you. He thrusts hard, making your body sway, and the sensation of it has your walls clenching. The waves of pleasure are still faintly ebbing through your body from your earlier orgasm, but the pleasure builds in a new, duller, deeper anticipation at each punishing snap of his hips.

“Hoseok, harder,” You moan out his name, each heavy breath seems louder in the bathroom, the water splashes as he stutters out a moan, thrusting inside of you even deeper.

It feels so good, him crooked around your body, fucking you so hard and so deep that it feels like all you can think about is him. You pant out his name, your voice husky and breathless from the intensity of his cock slamming into you so deep and filling you whole.

“Fuck, you’re gonna make-”

“Cum inside of me, please.” Your breath rushes over his, the feeling tightening in your stomach as Hoseok lets out a groan at your words. He leans forward, tilts his hips and fucks into you harder, ruthlessly, before his body staggers forward as he cums inside of you.

You feel a wave of satisfaction wash over you as Hoseok’s body shakes from the force of his orgasm, his thrusts slowing. 

It feels as if the space between the two of you is electric, everything is magnified – the water against your skin, the sounds of Hoseok’s ragged pants, the soft, pleased hum that is fighting it’s way from the back of your throat. 

You feel light, like you’re floating, as Hoseok’s body starts forward, his muscles relaxing as he moans into your hair.

“Fuck,” He mutters, he presses his lips against the back of your head. “Wow. I thought I was gonna black out for a second there.”

He pushes himself backwards and you turn until you’re sitting and facing him. Hoseok has a blissed out, relaxed smile on his face as he leans forward.

“Your knees,” He tuts, the porcelain of the tub has left your kneecaps pink and his fingers brush over them in a surprisingly tender gesture. 

You both sit like that for a moment, facing one another, your ragged breathing slowing and evening out. You feel thoroughly fucked out and so satisfied that it crackles over your skin. 

Hoseok is the first to move, he stirs, pushing off of the tub until he is standing. He reaches above his head and stretches, before he steps out of the tub.

“C’mere,” He glances over at you and outstretches a hand. 

You gaze at him, the softness that has settled properly into his face. You feel it bubbling up in your throat, thumping through your veins. You gaze at Hoseok’s outstretched hand, at the snake’s tail that curls around his wrist, and you think about everything that you have tried so hard to fight, to run away from.

You grasp Hoseok’s hand and stand up.

“Remember the time you tried to run away from my place by escaping through the bathroom?” You ask suddenly as you step out of the tub. Hoseok just lets out a wry laugh in response, as you step over until you are facing him. 

“Shh,” He mumbles, reaching up and pulling you in until you are in his arms. A tiny gasp escapes your lips and Hoseok leans in closer, an amused smile playing on his lips.

“Do I really have that effect on you?” He asks, a hint of a laugh in his voice as he mimics your gasp. He dips his head closer, and you feel the jackhammer drum beat of your heart from being so close to him, from the intensity of his gaze.

“No,” You lie, and Hoseok’s face opens into a proper smile, as bright and golden and warm as the sun.

“Uh huh,” He responds in a dry tone, as he opens the cabinet behind your head. He pulls out a fluffy white towel and wraps it tightly around your shoulders. 

He runs a hand through his wet hair as he stands in front of you, his eyes crinkling in the corner as his smile fades. 

He stares at you, his face serious, his eyes locked on yours like he is memorizing every single inch of your face, travelling it like a map. 

He reaches forward, his hands loop around the small of your back as he pulls you into his arms.

His lips find yours with that same rushed assurance that you’ve come to recognize as Hoseok’s signature. He rushes into it, his mouth chasing into yours hungrily, and you let out an involuntary sigh into his lips. His palms press flat against the curve of your waist, you can feel the heat of his body, the towel still wrapped tightly around your body.

You reach up and cup his face with one palm. You slow the kiss down, right down, until you are kissing him at a pace that is languid and slow. You feel your heart beat louder and faster in your chest, relinquishing in it – the feel of his strong body holding onto you, his lips, the way he matches your rhythm.

His hands flutter up to gently, carefully cup your face in his hands. The kiss deepens, enough to have you sighing and feeling as if your entire world is spinning. 

You aren’t thinking anything, you aren’t feeling anything, all you are aware of his him, the boy kissing you sweetly and tenderly, drops of water form his hand sliding down your shoulders, the soft towel wrapped around your skin.

Finally, Hoseok steps away, but he keeps his hands on your cheeks. He gazes down at you, and you feel it - a flutter in your chest that is more akin to a knock than a flutter, a swoon so deep and intense that you can feel it not only weakening your knees, but your shoulders, every muscle in your body. 

You expect Hoseok to break away, to run, because that’s what he always has done in the past. Your lips part but Hoseok doesn’t move away this time, instead, he stays close. You can hear it, his breathing, heavy, before he speaks.

“I think I’m…” He swallows, fingers relaxing. “…I....” His voice trails off uncertainly and you lean into him closer, press your lips against his in the softest, lightest of kisses. 

Hoseok makes a small sound right at the back of his throat and when you pull away, he keeps you close, his face inches from yours.

“I’ll leave the Kingsnakes.” 

For a moment, you don’t speak. Your eyes widen and you open your mouth but Hoseok hurries to speak.

“I… I’ve been thinking about it for a while and it’s time to move on. I don’t want that to be my life anymore.”

You breathe in, lean back on your heels. Hoseok’s face is serious, more serious than you’ve seen it before. You fight to keep your face calm, composed. 

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” Hoseok responds softly. “I’m sure. I want to be with you.”

Something leaps vibrant and bold in your chest, a glimmer of hope. Hoseok is still staring at you intently, a flash of worry crosses over his face.

“That’s um, that’s not the only reason by the way, there’s a lot of reasons why I want to leave. Just so you know.”

It feels like there is an egg being cracked in your chest, the golden yolk sliding down your belly and seeping into your bones.

“There’s a lot of reasons?”

“Not a lot but a few reasons, yeah.”

“And I’m one of the reasons?”

You are pushing it now, just because you want to hear it one more time, make sure you weren’t imagining it, imagining this-

“Yeah, maybe.”

You smile. Purse your lips teasingly. Step closer, tilting your head up to his.

“Maybe?”

Hoseok’s eyes soften, he softens, his shoulders sink and he reaches up so his fingers grasp the towel draped around your shoulders.

“Uh-huh.”

A burst of butterflies right there in your ribcage where your heart is.  

“You’re one of my reasons too.” You whisper. Your lips curve into a smile and Hoseok lets out a tiny sigh, like he’d been holding his breath.

“Cool,” He mumbles, and feel your heart rate start to pick up. You are so close to him that you could lean forward and your lips would brush against his. Words and sentences race through your mind, things that you want to say to him, things you have been holding in. 

“Hoseok, I-”

A loud, sharp ring slices through your words. Involuntarily you start a little, jolted out of your stream of thought. 

Hoseok glances over at the corner of his bathroom, at his jeans which are crumpled in a small pile.

“One sec.” He murmurs, he steps away from you and picks up his phone. The ring seems even louder in the echo of the bathroom, and you watch as Hoseok glances at the screen. His face crumples a touch, the barest amount before he covers over it neatly. 

“I’ve gotta take this.” He murmurs, before he opens the door and is out.

You wrap the towel tighter around your shoulders as you stand in the bathroom and wait. Just when you are about to walk outside, see if he’s okay, the door opens again and Hoseok is standing there. He has a pair of jeans on and a black sweater, his hair damp. You swallow, standing up.

“Is everything okay?”

“I…” His voice trails off and he shakes his head, a disoriented look on his face before his features frost over. The softness from before has dissipated.

“I’ve…” He clears his throat. “I’ve gotta go. Z wants to see me.”

“Z?” You repeat, Hoseok just nods tersely.

“What does he want?”

“I owe him a favour from a long time ago.” Hoseok stares at his hands. “He’s calling in the favour now, apparently.”

“Will-will you be okay?”

Hoseok nods briskly, he seems distracted as he steps towards you.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine, no one knows Z better than me. I’ll just go help him and then when that’s done, I’ll tell him that I’m out of the Kingsnakes.” 

The worry doesn’t ease and he steps towards you, his voice lowering. “I promise it’ll be okay. Stay here, alright? I’ll be back soon.”

He sweeps you up and presses his lips to the corner of your mouth in an absentminded kiss. 

“See you soon.” He murmurs into your hair before he turns and strides away, leaving you alone in his bathroom. 

You shiver and draw the towel around you closer, trying to ignore the growing sense of dread unfurling in the pit of your stomach.

Hoseok’s house is silent after he leaves. What felt so cosy before, now feels empty.

You stay up for three hours, perched on his old tattered couch, trying to distract yourself. When the clock strikes two AM, you pull yourself upwards and go to Hoseok’s bedroom. It smells like him – a bed with messy, unmade sheets, sneakers with the laces tangled on the ground. There, in the bin, are several unlit cigarettes. You feel a funny ache in your chest as you crawl into his bed, under the sheets, and will yourself to fall asleep.

You tell yourself to sleep and that when you wake up, Hoseok will be there beside you. But as time passes, you can’t fall asleep, and Hoseok doesn’t return.

Sleep feels impossible tonight.

amynote: ahhh it’s nearly the end...! thank you for reading ♡

[shimmershaewrites]

Waltzing's for Dreamers, Chapter 11 (a Walking Dead story, Caryl AU).

Title:  Waltzing's for Dreamers. 

Rating:  M, just to be safe. 

Warnings: adult language, allusions to abuse, some angst. 

Characters/Pairings:  Daryl Dixon, Merle Dixon, Enid, mention of Oscar, mention of Sophia Peletier, past Carol/Daryl, mention of past Merle/Karen, hints of Karen/Tyreese, mention of Axel, mention of Negan (ugh), his wife, Amber, Dwight/Sherry. 

  Behind a cut.  Because this one got away from me.  Hope you don't mind. 

Waltzing’s for Dreamers

    More than six years after Vegas.  Early August. 

      “Pull over,” Merle orders.  “Gotta take a piss.  Probably ain’t the only one.” 

  A glance in the rear-view mirror suggests otherwise—E’s been playing that new game Oscar downloaded to her iPad, Temple-something or other, since the novelty of being chauffeured around in the Impala had worn off ten minutes into their hour's long trip—but Daryl don’t say nothing.  Recognizes his brother’s stall tactics for what they are and flips on his turn signal at the intersection.  Pulls into a gas station with a Texaco sign and a towering James Dean pointing the way and parks.  “You go on.  We’ll just stay here.” 

  “Suit yourself,” Merle shrugs as he unloads his big body from the passenger seat.  “You want something to eat, you’ll get your asses movin’.  ‘Sides,” he slaps the car’s hood, “damn thing’s hotter than hot.” 

  The double meaning of his words makes Daryl grumble.  “You best be buyin’.”  Heaving his own door open, he performs the same courtesy for his niece and the preteen barely even takes her eyes off of the screen in front of her as he nudges her toward the mini-mart’s entrance.  Still enthralled with her game and happily oblivious to the back and forth bitching between him and her jackass father.  “Ever occur to you,” he hisses as the kid passes beneath his brother’s bracing arm and ducks into the air-conditioned tourist trap, wandering a few feet away from them both, “we could be arrested for this?” 

  Merle grin falters slightly.  “Got your panties all in a twist for nothin’, Darylina.  Thought we’d turned over a new leaf, but I can see we still have a ways to go.” 

  Guilt only softens Daryl up so much and the best non-apology he can manage is to keep his mouth shut.  Let the subject drop for the time being.  “Man, just hurry up.” 

  “Fuck, but you’s straight up actin’ like a woman,” Merle mutters as he makes a beeline for the restrooms. 

  “We ain’t here when you come back,” Daryl calls out to him, “we’re in the car.  Waitin’.”  Soon as his brother’s out of sight, he tracks down his niece.  Finally finds her clear across the store.  Standing in front of a red counter and a display case full of fudge that sets his mouth to watering.  Flipping her ponytail over one skinny shoulder, he voices a gruff reminder.  “Know you shouldn’t be sneakin’ off like that.” 

  “I didn’t sneak.  You and Merle were just too busy fighting to pay me any attention.” 

  It still throws him, her calling Merle, well, Merle.  Logically, he knows it shouldn’t when his brother didn’t know shit ‘bout her for the first eight years of her life.  Still.  When it’s all said and done, he’d been in Sophia’s life even less time than the three or so years Merle’s been in Enid’s and he’s still haunted by the memory of that little girl asking if she could call him Daddy.  By his choice to walk out on her and her mama without saying goodbye.  It’s always there, that regret.  It never fuckin’ leaves him, no matter how many times he reminds himself he only done it for their own good.  No matter how many vices he indulges in to try to dull it.  It’s always there.  Just like the wariness the kid staring up at him has never quite managed to shake completely.  Yeah, she might have let them in.  Him and Merle.  But it ain’t escaped Daryl’s notice she keeps one eye on the door, always ready to make her escape should his shithead brother relapse into the fuckin’ mess her mama kept her protected from all those years, and he can’t say he blames her.  Not one bit.  “Weren’t fightin’,” he tells her.  “Not really.  Ain’t seen us really fight.”

  Those big, old soul eyes of hers narrow skeptically. 

  “M’serious,” Daryl insists.  “You ain’t.  Hope you never do.”  Nodding his head at the display case, he unconsciously swipes his tongue over his lips.  “Shit looks good.  Want some?”  He looks up sharply when a cotton-candy sweet voice butts into their conversation. 

  “I can give you and your little girl some samples if you’d like.” 

  “Ain’t my…” 

  “One of each flavor,” the cooing blonde entices.   

  “One of each?”

  Kid asks the question with an overkill of wonder, and Daryl has to bite back a smirk because there ain’t no DNA test needed to tell him the little con artist slipping her arm through his and tugging at the back at his shirt is his brother’s girl.  Naw, she’s a sweet and sour chip off the old block, and he knows for a fact Merle would be beaming at her right now.  Proud as a fuckin’ peacock if he weren’t taking the longest piss in the history of all mankind.  “Dunno,” he says, wincing slightly when the comment earns him a pinch to his side.  Looking back up at the woman, he explains.  “Gotta be gettin’ back on the road soon.  Don’t have time to stick around.” 

  “I can box them up for you.  Won’t take but a minute.” 

  Little E turns up her game, batting her lashes and pouting.  “Please, Daddy.” 

  Choking back a laugh, Daryl gives in.  Goes all in, really.  Those years of pretending with Carol—first as a loving husband, then as a man that was walking away from one big, elaborate sham—coming in handy.  “Alright.  Really do need to get a move on.” 

  They make out like bandits, all three of them.  End up back in that Impala, eating up the miles between Bakersfield and San Francisco before the girl’s mama can send out a search party.  Pull up in Karen’s driveway in the middle of the afternoon to find the woman herself waiting beside an idling U-haul, the concern on her face morphing into a relieved smile when she lays eyes on her daughter.  Then dissolving into a disapproving frown when she sees the kid’s chocolate smudged lips and the nearly empty box of fudge in her hands. 

  “I’d make her ride with you and Patrick, but I’m not sure you can keep both of them alive,” she mutters with a roll of her eyes.  No, ma’am,” she says, plucking the box of sweets from her daughter and pushing them into Merle’s chest.  “I think you’ve had enough, thank you very much.  Go wash your face.  We should have been at the airport an hour ago.  We should have been in Jacksonville with Ty and the team last week.  Got the Patriots in their house in less than a week, but I digress.

  “’Member now why me and you, we never made a real go of it,” Merle tells her with a shake of his head.  “Always been a real buzzkill, Woman.  Life of the fuckin’ party.” 

  Daryl elbows him sharply in the side.  Exchanges the bulging duffel bag in his hands for the box of candy.  “Merle.  Just shut up while you’re ahead.” 

  “Listen to your brother,” Karen advises over her shoulder as she marches up the shrub-lined sidewalk.  Checks to see what’s taking her girl so long.  “Enid!  We still have to go through security.”  

  “What?  Company jet not available?  Ow.  Ouch.  Dammit, Darylina,” he scowls, rubbing his already tender side.   

  “Stop bein’ a jackass.” 

  “Fine.  Somebody gonna tell me who the hell Patrick is?” 

  “Kid’s pet turtle.  ‘Member?  Had him since she was six,” Daryl reminds him as he pops the Impala’s trunk and slides the girl’s back pack over his own shoulder.  “Named it after some cartoon character.  Here,” he says, looping the bag over his brother’s prosthetic when he stands in front of him again.  “She’s gonna want this with her on the plane.” 

  “Sure you won’t come with me, Baby Brother?  Ain’t never gonna remember all this shit.  Don’t know what I was thinkin’.  Girl ain’t gonna care one way or the other if I follow her all the way to Florida.  Ain’t cut out to be no daddy.  Hers or anybody else’s.” 

  Daryl frowns.  “Now who’s actin’ like a woman?”

  “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that,” Karen comments as she rejoins them.  Sizes Merle up.  “You backing out?  Because if you are…” 

  Merle clenches his jaw.  Straightens his shoulders and stands a little taller.  “Ain’t.” 

  She stares at him, like she’s not sure if she can believe him or not, the same way Daryl catches her girl doing sometimes, and he supposes that’s fair.  His brother ain’t really done nothing in the past to earn their trust.  But the sonofabitch is different now.  Daryl knows it even if they don’t, so he comes to the asshole’s defense.  One last time, hoping he don’t make a fool out of him when all is said and done.  “He ain’t backin’ out.” 

  A split second of hesitation and Karen nods.  “Good.  We’ve got a layover in Las Vegas.  Another one in Chicago.  I’m going to call you,” she warns as she walks toward the waiting cab.  “Check on Patrick.” 

  “Hear that?  That’s one stone cold bitch right there,” Merle tells him with a dawning grin.  “Startin’ to ‘member how me and her got along.” 

  Daryl’s brow furrows in confusion and the fog of memories dredged up with the mention of Vegas dissipates.  “You didn’t.” 

“’Xactly.  Made the sex…well, hey there, Darlin’.  Come to see me off?” 

  The eleven-year-old scoffs and snatches her back pack from him, works it over her small shoulders.

  “Enid!  Hurry up!” 

  Daryl chucks her on the chin.  Offers her a tiny smile when she turns her back to his brother. 

  “Bye, Uncle Daryl.” 

  “See you ‘round, Kid.” 

  “Hey,” Merle grouses.  “What ‘bout me?” 

  “Try not to kill Patrick.  ‘Kay, Dad?”  Then she’s off, racing to the cab and her anxious mother.  Grinning that coat hanger grin out the window at the two of them and their stunned expressions, their jaws still dragging the ground as the cab leaves their sight. 

  Daryl’s the first to recover.  He reckons it’s gonna take a while for his brother to come back around.  “Heard the girl.  Best protect that turtle with your fuckin’ life.  Listen.  I, uh.  I gotta get back on the road.  Square things away with Axel and the guys.  Was thinkin’…” 

  Merle, being Merle, is impatient.  Interrupts him.  “Yeah?” 

  “Was thinkin’ you were right.” 

  “Ole Merle’s always right.” 

  Daryl doesn’t even try to refute the bastard’s claim.  Doesn’t have it in him to poke holes in the natural high he’s enjoying.  “Bakersfield.  It ain’t home.” 

  “Georgia on your mind?” Merle drawls.  Winks. 

  “Man, could you just…what the hell’s this?” he asks, when a yellow package hits him square in the chest.  “Ass Kickin’ Beef Jerky?” 

  “Kick your ass right back to Mouse and your girl.” 

  He ducks his head, grips the Impala’s open door until his knuckles turn white.  “’Phia ain’t mine.  Don’t deserve that little girl or her mama.” 

  “Yours in every way that counts, Lil Brother,” Merle says, clapping a hand over his shoulder and giving it a brotherly squeeze.  “And that woman of yours?  You don’t just up and quit lovin’ somebody the way she loved you.  I know.  ‘Cause you ain’t never stopped lovin’ her.  Been tryin’ to fool yourself for a long time, but me?  I ain’t never bought it.” 

  “Yeah?  How come you never said anything, Asshole?” 

  His brother shrugs.  Turns toward the idling truck, but not without a glance back.  “Figured you’d come ‘round.  In your own sweet time the way you always do.” 

  “Things you don’t know.  Ain’t so easy as me makin’ up my mind, admittin’ I still love ‘em.” 

  “Never was.” 

  “Naw.  Wasn’t,” Daryl agrees.  A thought occurs to him then.  Out of the blue, and he pinches the bridge of his nose.  Sighs.  “That asshole Negan ain’t gonna be waitin’ for me, ready to take battin’ practice when I get back is he?  You sure we didn’t steal his car?” he asks.  Watching Merle climb in the U-haul after his bags, settle himself behind the wheel. 

  Merle shakes his head, slides a pair of sunglasses on his nose, and gives him a grin full of nicotine-stained teeth.  “Just borrowed it.  He claims otherwise?  Just ask him how Amber’s doing.” 

  “Amber?” 

  “Cheerleader that came in with her mama last week when they dropped off the Volvo.  Real pretty little piece of jail bait I’m sure his sick wife would just love to meet.” 

  “Dammit, Merle,” Daryl curses.  Disgusted and more than a little bit disappointed in his brother.  “Girl’s a kid.  Not much older than…”  He can’t even say it.  Feels too sick to his stomach to even think of somebody taking advantage of Sophia or Enid like that and he slaps his hand down on the car’s hood.  Swears some more.  “Fuckin’ hell.  Dirty piece of shit.  Girl’s a kid and you’d just let…”

  “Ain’t just lettin’ nobody do nothin’,” Merle is quick to cut him off.  “Prick’s days are numbered, thanks to that weasel Dwight.” 

  “Dwight?  What’s he got to do with...no.  Sherry?” 

  “Is probably filin’ assault charges as we speak, promised to go with the kid to the police station to file her own.” 

  “Wait a minute.”  Daryl’s frown deepens even further.  “Where’d you hear all this?” 

  “Got eyes and ears all over the place, Baby Brother.  All over the place.  That’s why I know.” 

  “What?” 

  “Time for you to go home. Running out of time.” 

  “What do you mean I’m running out of time?  Merle?” 

  “Mean what I mean,” Merle says cryptically.  Shifting the U-haul into gear and maneuvering it around the Impala.  “Daylight’s burnin’.  ’Member what I said.” 

  “Which par…dammit, Merle.”  He leaves, disappearing around the same corner the cab had, and Daryl can only wonder. 

 Running out of time for what? 

[prettyblossoms]

Lost In Limbo

Summary: Dealing with the pressure of being a teenager is proving to be too much for seventeen-year-old Eddie Kaspbrak, who is unable to deal with his overbearing mother’s expectations and violent school bullies. To make matters worse, he is fighting a losing battle with his sexuality. Meanwhile, Richie Tozier is trying to convince himself that what he feels towards his best friend is mere attraction. Will they be able to find the truth in each other or are they destined to crash and burn?

Pairings: Reddie, Stenbrough, Benverly.

Warnings: Angst, homophobic language, groping, kissing, making out, aged up characters!

                                  Chapter 9: I Adore You

Bill sat on the cold tile flooring of the school while engrossed in a large paperback novel. The cover was flawed, having rips and wrinkles along the edges and around its binding. On the inside, the pages were crumpled making them elicit a sound when he turned one. Bill seemed unfazed by the condition of the book as he effortlessly read the text aloud, only stopping to prevent himself from stuttering. The redheaded male, seated directly next to him, gently slapped Bill's knee as a way to encourage him to continue reading. Bill smirked and placed his thumb on the page he was on and pulled the book closed with his remaining fingers. Bill heard Stan huff in protest, but his attitude shifted when the auburn-haired teen slung his arm around him, pulling their bodies closer together. Bill met Stan's stare and they both grinned wildly at each other. Stan's cheeks became blotched with a red hue, and Bill would have taken it as a compliment had they just not gotten out of baseball practice. "I know you're worried about Eddie, S-Stan." Bill caressed Stan's shoulder lovingly, "We all are, but just know he is gonna be okay. We're going to make him okay again." Stan didn't respond. He was too caught up trying to control the butterflies dancing around in his stomach. He practically melted into Bill's arms and he took advantage of the moment, nuzzeling his head into shoulder closest to him. The smell of natural earthy tones consumed him when Bill rested his head on Stan's own. The moment came to a screeching halt when Ben exited the classroom, almost hitting them with the door. Stan and Bill pulled apart from each other and immediately jumped to their feet. Ben's eyebrows deepened, and an all-knowing smile became plastered on his face. As they exited the school, Stan opened up his umbrella to avoid getting his hair drenched by the rain showing them. They walked past the football field just as Mike was coming out carrying heavy bags in tow. "They cancel your practice because of the rain too?" "Yes. It is a good thing too because it is disgustingly muddy out here," came from Stan as he pulled his umbrella back from Bill, who was trying to force his way underneath it. Ben chuckled to himself as he watched them eventually compromise, huddling together under the one person umbrella. The rain beat down upon them as they walked towards Mike's truck. It was much larger than Richie's and was a four-seater given to him by his Grandfather. Ben took the passenger seat while Stan and Bill sat in the back, laughing about only god know what. Mike began to drive towards Eddie's house slowly as to avoid the potential dangers of being on the road during the storm. Bill looked out of the window, watching as the rain destroyed everything in its path. Then the laughs ceased, completely dying on his tongue. Stan sensed the tension that began to flood the car and looked at Bill questioningly. Bill's fists clenched and he was digging his nails into his palms. His baby blue eyes squinted under the pressure of his brow that was now forming stress lines. Bill's foot bounced against the truck's floorboard, which was surely a sign that something was wrong. "What's wrong, Bill?" Stan asked. "I left S-Silver yesterday, and now it's raining." "Well, where did you leave it?" Mike asked, "We can go get it." "I left it in the Q-Quarry." "Shit! The Quarry always floods during the rain, especially like this!" Ben added, "We better hurry!"

"Say no more!" Mike stepped on the gas and accelerated towards the Quarry being as fast and safe as possible. His windshield wipers were in high gear, as they swiveled back and forth clearing Mike's vision for only a few seconds. He sat up in his seat as he pulled a U-turn, now driving in the direction of the Quarry.

Stan tightened his seatbelt and grasped onto it like a life preserver. Mike had never driven this fast, and it was intimidating as hell. He was just about to scream for Mike to slow down when he looked over at Bill, who was holding onto trucks grip and laughing wildly. With everything going on with Eddie and Richie, Bill had been incredibly stressed, so Stan welcomed the change in his crushes demeanor. His lips curved into a smile as he stared at him. His heart started to beat harder against his rib cage, but this time it wasn't because of the fear of getting into an accident; he was head over heels for Bill. They reached the Quarry in record-breaking time. Stan almost wanted to kiss the ground in relief that they had lived through the whole ordeal. Almost. "Where did you leave Silver, Bill?" Mike asked pulling the hood of his hoodie over his head. Bill squinted as he scanned the area. The sky was almost pitch black, and rain was barreling down on them, making it difficult to see. The water was rapidly accumulating causing the Quarry's waters to become deeper in depth. To avoid slipping in the mud, he began to slowly walk in the direction where he believed he left the bike. He moved branches from the trees blocking their path when all of a sudden they met eyes with Victor, who had appeared to be hiding. The boys weren't expecting to see anyone, so it started the majority of the four Losers. Stan brought his hand up to his chest preventing his heart from jumping out. Ben stumbled backward but still stared at Vic with a scowl of defiance. Bill's mouth fell open as he let out a gawk of disbelief. Mike was the only one to put arms over his chest. He attempted to glare at Vic, but it came out as a look of confusion. Despite his impressive stature, Mike was too sweet to be seen as intimidating. Yet, Vic's eyes widened as he looked towards the Quarry's waters and then back at them, looking like a child with his hand stuck in the cookie jar. His body recoiled in terror leaving Stan, Bill, and Ben confused. Mike was unfazed, only following Vic's gaze to see Henry Bower's in the Quarry's waters. "What the hell is going on?" Mike asked no one in particular, his eyes glued to the scene unfolding in front of him. His voice was dangerously low but lethal enough to make Victor cower in fear. The other three males turned their heads to see what Mike was staring at and gasped. Victor saw that the Losers were distracted, so he began to run away hollering, "Belch, Henry! We got company." The minute Henry Bower's flew from the water they saw something had remained, but the water conflicted with their vision. They began to walk more quickly towards the lake anticipating the worst. Their worst fears were brought to life once they were at the water's edge; a silhouette of a body became visible. And it wasn't moving. Dread pooled into their bellies causing them to become more reckless. They sprinted into the icy water as if their lives depended on it; welcoming the pins and needles that electrified their bodies. Mike, being the fastest out of them all, made it into the water first. He felt a lump in his throat arise when he saw those unmistakable shorts and fanny pack on the person's waist. This fueled his body to move faster; battling against the current more aggressively than before. Once he reached him, he wasted no time hauling him up into the air. The other boys, who were a short distance away from Mike, felt their hearts sink when Mike pulled Eddie out of the water. His body was so limp that even Mike struggled to lift up him. Usually, he could pick up Eddie like a sack of potatoes, so it was unsettling that he now felt so heavy. Mike ran back to the rocks as quickly as he could ignoring the pleading looks from Stan and Bill. His muscular legs felt like jello by the time he laid Eddie down onto the ground. Being as gentle as Mike could, he tapped Eddie's cheeks together in his hands. "Wake up, Eddie," Mike's voice hitched. "Please." Eddie's body didn't even flinch as the light taps on his cheek became harsher slaps.  Mike was overwhelmed, to say the least. Panic painted his face when he noticed that Eddie's lips were blue and his skin was as white as a sheet. Quickly, he put his head up to the boy's nose and looked down his chest to check if he was breathing. He put one hand over Eddie's upper stomach and then placed the other one on top, intertwining his fingers together. He pushed his hands down hard only stopping to give Eddie two rescue breaths. Bill dissolved into tears. His hands violently shook as he tried to reach out for Stan to hold him steady. The emotional turmoil going through him caused his stutter to become more prominent, "F-f-f-fuck! E-E-Ed-die!" Stan watched the scene unravel in horror. Eddie looked like he was dead. His face was covered in blood, and now Mike giving him chest compression's hard enough to break his ribs. He averted his gaze, unable to handle the feelings coursing through him. But when he heard Bill's weeps he felt his legs give out beneath him. Wails of grief came out like out blood-curdling screams. "Oh no. No. No. No!" Ben only saw red as he ran after Henry and his goons. He began throwing large rocks at him screaming, "Fuck you! Pieces of shit!" Even as they jumped into their vehicle, Ben stayed on their tracks. In a rage of fury, he grabbed one more rock and chucked it at their car, obliterating the back window right as they pulled away. Tears clouded Ben's sight. Out of instinct, he brought his hand up to wipe his eyes clear, but he was crying faster than he could wipe. After a relatively powerful push, Eddie began vomiting up the water that had filled his chest. The taste of the copper was replaced with a mixture of water and whatever contents were in his stomach. It burned all the way up his throat as it violently expelled from his body, causing his body to lurch irrepressibly. He struggled to catch his breath as he choked on strangled cries.

Everything hurt. So bad. Mike rolled him over onto his side to prevent him from choking and patted his back. Bill couldn't contain his relief and sank to his knees immediately grabbing onto Stan and pulling him into a tight embrace. "It's okay, S-Stan! E-Eddie's going to be o-okay!" Stan looked up to see Eddie puking and grimaced. While it was absolutely disgusting, he couldn't help the smile that spread on his face. All that mattered was that Eddie was alive to be able to have bodily functions at all. He watched as Mike picked the asthmatic up bridal style, grabbing onto Eddie's shoulder and thigh for leverage. Meanwhile, Eddie was fighting between going in and out of consciousness. The last thing he could remember was Henry holding him underwater as he fought to intake air. All he could hear was Henry's voice in the back of his head saying, "Your dear friend Richie helped me out," over and over again, as if it was stuck on repeat. The only thing loud enough to drown it out was the sound of a loud, piercing cry that could have broken the atmosphere. Right about the same time he he felt a boiling sharp pain in his leg. Their euphoria of relief was interrupted when Eddie's body tensed up and he screamed out in agony causing Mike to loosen his grip. Eddie's cry was so raw that it tugged at their own heartstrings and they grimaced when his pain shot through them. Stan's eyes searched frantically for the cause of the outbreak and stopped on the trail of blood beginning to pour down Eddie's leg. "Fuck! His thigh is bleeding really really bad!" Bill wasted no time pulling his sweater off and handing it to Stan, who took it without hesitation. Mike readjusted his arm so that it was placed under Eddie's knee. "Stan, you gotta wrap that around where it's bleeding. Wrap it tight, okay?" Stan's hands began to tremble as he tightened his grip on Bill's sweater. If the situation weren't dire, he would have put up a very convincing argument. His first point would have been, 'Why me?' Followed by, 'This is unsanitary.' But, none of it even felt valid.

Because this was Eddie. He inhaled deeply as he put the material under Eddie. He brought the sleeves up over the front of his thigh and released the breath he was holding. Quickly, he shut his eyes as he tugged the material together tightly, causing Eddie to bellow out in intense pain once again. Stan grit his teeth when he knotted the material together hearing the low whines rip through Eddie's body. "We gotta him to a hospital!" "N-no, Mike. W-we can't-" "What are you trying to suggest we do, Bill?" "They'll c-call his mom and Eddie's not going to want t-that. W-we can take him back to his house and t-take care of him." "Do you know how crazy that sounds!? Who cares if they call his mom, all that matters is that he gets treatment so he can live !" "Look, you guys, this is no time to argue! Let's just go to Eddie's so we can get him warm and then we will figure out everything from there. Okay?" Ben intervened before the debate became more heated. They sighed in unison and made their way back to the truck exchanging no words. The Losers sat in the same spots as before, except Eddie was sprawled out over Bill and Stan. Bill brushed the wet hair off of his forehead and locked some of the strands behind his ear. Eddie groaned when Bill continued to run his fingers through Eddie's hair. The numbness in his body was replaced when unbearable pain crashed down on him, causing him to emit a low hiss from his mouth. He needed to see what was around him, but there was a substantial weight on his eyes that he couldn't fight. He admitted defeat and kept them closed. He could sense presences around him.  Sure, he didn't want to see the ADHD stricken teen this morning, but he wished he could have gone back in time and taken it all back. He needed one of them to be Richie because when he was around that meant he was safe. Until he heard it again. Vile words hit him like electricity sending a shiver down his spine, "Your dear friend Richie helped me out." Moments he had shared with the boy he adored flashed through his head like a camera's film, one after another in a still image. A younger version of Richie came first. He was equipped with his broken glasses fixed with tape, a Hawaiian button-up shirt, and that crooked grin.  It was replaced with wide brown eyes magnified twice their regular size and he could practically feel Richie's hands shaking his face. The picture fast-forwarded years later. Richie had gone through his growth spurt and puberty had been very kind to him. His teeth were immaculate; straightened and pearly white. Perks of having a dentist in the family. And the only benefit of having Mr. Tozier as a father. The large dorky glasses were replaced with contacts, which had become much more modern in Derry. Richie's hair remained unruly, wild, and free. It sprawled out in every direction. The picture displayed Richie frozen in a ridiculous pose pretending to be one of the manikins at a department store and his grin was a mile long. He could specifically remember why they were there that day.

"Eds, once I get that guitar I am going to start a band! I'll be like David Bowie or Kurt Cobain, just you watch and see! Girls will be lining up around the block to take a trip on this willy.” Richie shouted too loudly and made an inappropriate gesture to his private area. "First off, that is fucking disgusting. Secondly, the only thing girls would line up to see is you being euthanized like the horn dog you are.” Eddie didn’t let it go at that as a thought entered his mind, “Besides, you already have an instrument." Richie raised an eyebrow, but Eddie continued, "Your mouth literally spews out nothing but hot air and noise twenty-four hours a day." Richie only laughed, "Aww, Eds! Are you trying to tell me that my voice is beautiful?" He playfully pinched Eddie's cheek only to have his hand slapped away. "Yes, it's so beautiful," Eddie oozed sarcastically. "So beautiful in fact that you cause all of the stray animals in Derry to howl at night. You blend in so well with them too. I can see your name in lights now." Eddie pointed at a blank billboard sign and expanded his hands over it for dramatic effect. "Richie: The Walking Trashmouth! " Richie snorted and shook his head with newfound determination, "If only you knew what this mouth could do. Just ask your mother, last night I had her screaming-” “Beep Beep Richie!” Eddie scowled at the other teens joke. “Stop talking about my mother.” “Alright, Eds. I’ll prove it to you that I have the voice of a fucking angel.." Eddie's eyes widened, and he began to walk faster, knowing Richie was up to something. He couldn’t get away quick enough. " Do you mind if I adore you, For as long as it will take ?" Richie sang loudly to Eddie as he took long strides to catch up to the shorter male.  Before Eddie could run Richie slung his arm around Eddie's shoulder and his voice elevated even more, " Do you mind if I adore you, every moment I'm awake ? Ohhhh~! I adore you, Eds!" People were now stopping and staring at the duo with grotesque expressions. Eddie was so embarrassed that he tried to bury himself in his baseball cap, concealing his face from onlookers. "Richie, if you don't let me go and shut the fuck up this instant you aren't going to live to see the day you play any instrument."

Despite what he said, a smile spread on his lips and his cheeks radiated a bright shade of pink. Even way back then, part of him wanted Richie’s words to be true.

That moment faded and was replaced by the serious look on Richie's face yesterday after they kissed, shame littered deep in his eyes. Then it all disappeared. "Your dear friend Richie helped me out." He could feel moisture on his cheeks, and his chest tightened as he began to breathe more rapidly. Richie had told Bowers exactly where to find him. Nothing made sense. Richie had him beaten, bruised, and almost- Visions swam through his head once more, but they were all of Henry Bowers. Laughing at him as he punched and kicked him mercilessly. The snide smile on his face as Eddie gasped for air. And those hands under the waistband of his shorts, trying to go lower. "I am going to take away all of your dignity, Kaspbrak. Everyone is going to see you for the faggot that you are after this." A dim light bulb went off in his head effectively shattering what was left of his heart;  Richie hated him. His breaths became full on hyperventilating in a matter of seconds. Strong hands embraced him so closely that he could feel the person's body heat seeping into him. He thrashed against the person's grip, but he was too weak to get away. Eddie's body shook like a leaf and the world was beginning to spin. All he could focus on was what he felt at the moment; the emptiness in his chest. The thought that Richie would do something like that hurt more than any physical wounds he had suffered  in his seventeen years of living. It even hurt more than his mother’s lies, about him being sick. But what was worse was that he still loved Richie with all of his being.

"R-R-Rich-h-h-ie?" Eddie stammered out.

Everything was slipping away slowly like water going down the drain, and his time being conscious was running out. He could feel it and it shook him to the core that this may be the last time he opened his eyes. A pang of bravery motivated him to move his hand to clasp the one clutching his arm. Bill looked down at him grief-stricken and then looked to Stan, doubt hidden behind his baby blue eyes. Stan bit into his fist to avoid crying out again, but slowly nodded his head towards Bill. It was obvious between the other Losers that Eddie had always felt closest to Richie meaning that was probably the only person Eddie wanted. Bill intertwined his fingers with Eddie's and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “I’m h-here.”

Eddie heard the response, but suddenly, he didn't know what to say. There were too many things he wanted to tell Richie. He wanted to ask why he turned his back on him and tell him just how badly it hurt. He wanted to apologize for their fight and beg to have his best friend back. Most of all, he wanted to finally tell the truth.

Bill’s lips quivered unsteadily when Eddie began to cry out through chattering teeth, "R-Rich, I a-adore you. " His fragile voice trailed off and his grip on Bill’s hand loosened before passing out once more.

[buckyscrystalqueen]

Assholes and Award Shows

Pairings: Chris Pratt x named!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, asshole exes, fat shaming, fluff, smut, angst.... story has it all.

Word Count: 8,534

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Isn’t that like… a lot of weight?” You asked quietly and hesitantly, not wanting to cause any more of a scene in the middle of the gym. Your boyfriend, Josh, glared up at you as he slid a ten pound weight into place.

“If you can’t even handle this, you’re worthless, Jamie.” You bit your lip to hold off your tears once again and nodded as he slid the clip on the end to hold the weights into place. “Let’s go. I ain’t got all day.” With a deep sigh, you wiped your already sweaty palms on your sweat covered leggings and laid down on the bench press seat. He offered zero instructions as you gripped the textured metal in both hands right above your body. You tried to ignore his scoff as he lifted the bar off the rack and let it go.

“See, I knew it. Worthless.” He growled as the 45 pound bar and the four, ten pound plates began to wobble in your shaky hands. He smirked down at you and shook his head. “You know, I was gunna wait until you sucked my dick one more time but this just isn’t worth it. I’m done with your fat ass.” Your eyes went wide as your arms gave up trying to hold the weight up above your body. This is not how you saw your first time at the gym going.

“Wait Josh. I… I can’t.” Your stomach turned as you frantically tried to lift the bar that was now crushing your sternum but your arms couldn’t handle it. Panic set in as your boyfriend of only a few months grabbed his water bottle and strolled out the door. Tears burned your eyes as you tried to hook your feet onto something for a little more leverage as breathing became even more difficult than it had when he made you run on the treadmill for twenty minutes.

“Here, let go. I got it.” A man said as your vision started to darken. You instantly let go of the bar as a blast of air filled your lungs. You bolted up on the seat and gasped for only a moment before the need to to vomit the two bottles of water you had drank became over whelming. You scrambled to get to the trash can as your head pounded and you made it just in time.

“Hey, you’re OK.” The same man said as he grabbed the end of your pony tail and held it to your back. You barely registered his hand rubbing your sweat drenched back as you lost the little water you had left. Once you were sure you were OK, you stood up and burst into tears.

“I’m sorry.” You sobbed as the man guided you to a bench near by. “I don’t know what I’m doing here.”

“Yea well that guy wasn’t helping you much either.” You shook your head as you used the bottom of your shirt to wipe your face off. “So you’re a Marvel girl?” You nodded as you looked at the Guardian’s of the Galaxy tank top you had on.

“Good movies. Good sound tracks. Great actors. What’s not to…” Your words caught in your throat as you looked straight into the smiling face of Chris Pratt. The red flush from working out drained immediately and your jaw snapped closed. You frantically shook your head and scrambled off the bench as a panic attack threatened to rip your lungs out of your chest.

“Hey, wait. It’s OK.” Chris said calmly as you backed into a rack of weights; knocking some of them to the ground with loud bangs. You squeaked as you looked down at them before heading to the woman’s locker rooms as fast as you could. As you power walked into one of the bathroom stalls, you burst into tears; mortified at how your morning was turning out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After an hour of hiding in the bathroom, you figured that you had given the actor enough time to finish his work out and leave so you could slip out without him seeing you. As quickly as you could, you walked out to the locker you had your phone, cigarettes and car keys in, grabbed them and power walked out the door. You kept your head down to hide your bright red cheeks and embarrassment. Tears stung your eyes as the faint sound of two women laughing at you hit you like a brick wall as you shoved the door open and walked out side; hating yourself even more. At 28 years old, you were 5’ 9”, 295 pounds and battled a laundry list of mental illnesses. You wanted to get healthy but going to the gym was always so daunting. Josh had promised he would make it easier…

“So, she’s not a vampire.” Your feet froze on the sidewalk at Chris’ sweet voice and laugh. “She can come outside to play.” You looked over at him as you pulled a cigarette out of the back and lit it, desperate for the nicotine. He pat the bench next to him as he held up your water bottle. “I’m holding it hostage until you sit down.”

“You can just keep it.” You said as you took a step off the sidewalk toward your car. You made it two steps before he was in front of you with his hands raised.

“Look, I won’t take ‘no’ for an answer right now. I have to know you’re OK…”

“I’m fine.” You interrupted as you took a drag of your cigarette and tried to step around him, unsuccessfully.

“Please. Humor me? I’m having a shitty day, too.” His green eyes danced from your brown eyes to the cigarette between your left fingers and back again. “Care if I bum one?” You exhaled a drag and handed him your pack. You took another drag of your cigarette as you walked around him toward your car.

“So, what do you want to know?” You asked as you unlocked your car and pulled open your passenger door. “I’m nothing special.”

“Well I beg to differ on that one.” Chris said as you started grabbing stuff that belonged to your ex and throwing it on the ground. He tossed the back of cigarettes on the hood of the car as you held your Zippo out to him behind your back. You stood up and looked at him with a huffed laugh.

“Look, Mr. Pratt…”

“Chris, please.” He said around his cigarette as he handed you the lighter with a smile. “I know what you’re gunna say. ‘You’re famous, I’m just a fan, what could I possibly have to offer someone like you?’ Am I right?” You couldn’t help but blush and turn away to continue to toss your ex’s things out of your car. “Thought so. What if I just want to help someone? What if I just want a friend that can make working out fun for me again?”

“You don’t know me.” You said as you put your water bottle in the cup holder and started your car to get it cooled down. “I’m crazy.”

“Crazy is fun.” Chris said with a laugh as he leaned against your passenger door to keep you from closing it. You sighed as you stood up straight and looked at him with a shake of your head. You opened your mouth to protest but he quickly held up his hand. “Look, you’re a fan so I know, you know I’m going through a separation, right?” Your mouth slapped shut and didn’t say anything.

“Yea. So I know what it’s like to want to get healthy but not having the motivation. I know what it’s like to hate yourself because of what you look like. I also know what it’s like to feel like you have no one on your side. Let me help you. My guess is, having Star-Lord as a gym partner is going to help you as much as helping you is going to help distract me.” His brow furrowed as he looked down at you. “I’m saying help to much, aren’t I? Help. Help? HEELP!” You couldn’t help but laugh at him and nod.

“You sound like you need an adult right now.” He chuckled and nodded at you.

“I always need an adult. Always.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket, unlocked it and handed it to you. “Help me, help you so you can help me help me.” You smirked and nodded as you put your cell number in his phone.

“I will if you stop saying ‘help’, deal?” He nodded and laughed as he took back his phone and looked at your name.

“Jamie. Beautiful name.” You blushed as he stood up straight and nodded at you. “Nice to meet you. See you here tomorrow say 11?” You nodded as you closed the passenger door to your car. “Good, and don’t think I won’t blow up your phone if you don’t show up. You can’t turn down all this.” He said as he gestured to his muscular physique. You bit your lip as you forced yourself not to check him out.

“I don’t think anyone could.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So, first off you need to remember not to push yourself to hard to start.” Chris told you as he lead you away from the treadmills, after your mile and a half power walk warm-up, toward a corner of the gym that didn’t have mirrors on every wall. “That idiot yesterday was trying to kill you. Which is…” His words trailed off as he grabbed two, one pound hand weights with a grumbled growl. He shook his head and turned back toward you with a smile.

“So, we’ll start simple. Take these.” He handed you the weights and took a step behind you with a smile so you were both facing the wall. “Now arms straight down to your sides.” You nodded as he put one hand on your shoulder and pulled it back so you were standing straight up. You were suddenly grateful there was no mirror as a slight blush spread across your cheeks.

“Now, don’t slouch and bring your arms straight out to the sides like a ’T’.” His hands moved to your wrists and guided your arms up so they were even with your shoulders. “Good. Then back down.” You followed his guidance as he walked over and grabbed his own set of 45 pound weights. He moved so he was standing in front of you and nodded. “Let’s do this.”

“You make that look so easy.” You told him as he went at your speed. He chuckled and gave you a half shrug.

“It’s all a matter of time. You keep up with working out and thirty, forty pounds will be nothing to you. Now, you rest. I got a couple more.” You nodded as you let your hands fall to your sides at ten as he did five more. You couldn’t stop yourself if you wanted to but watch the way the muscles in his arms pulled and bulged with every rep. He chuckled as he let his arms come to a rest at his sides. “Good motivation, right?” Your face flushed red and you turned away.

“Stop.” You laughed as he reached out and pushed your shoulder with his weight.

“Quit, you’re not done.” He laughed as he nodded his head. “Again, ten more.”

“I hate you right now.” You grumbled with a giant smile on your face as you followed his lead and did ten more.

“You think you do, but you really don’t.” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes as you counted in your head, trying to focus on anything but Chris’ arms… or shoulders… or anything about him, unsuccessfully. “At least, today you don’t. I make no promises about next week or the one after.” You sighed as you let your hands rest at your sides as Chris kept going.

“Why are you doing this for me?” You asked as you looked up at him. He smiled as he finished his last reps.

“Because you’re gunna save my butt like I am yours.” You couldn’t wrap your head around his generosity when he gestured for your next set. “Look, you can over think this out of the gym. Get to work, missy.” You giggled as you did your last set of ten while he did his set of fifteen in like half the time. Once you let your hands come to rest, Chris moved so he was next to you.

“You know how to do lunges?” He asked as he demonstrated what you were doing next. You nodded as he stood up straight and touched his feet together. “You’re gunna do five with your left leg first.” He said with a nod as you put that foot forward and lunged forward as far as your muscles would allow. He smiled and shook his head. “Don’t push too hard. That’s your limit today, roll with it. You got it.”

“OK, this isn’t as fun.” You said as you put your hand on your knee to help push yourself back up.

“That’s OK. You’ll hate them even more tomorrow.” You glanced over at him as you both did another lunge. “Try not to use your hands to push yourself back up if you can. You don’t wanna get in to the habit of doing it. And don’t forget to breathe.” You nodded as you did the third lunge, exhaling as you went down and moving your arms a little out to the side as you stood back up with a very unattractive grunted growl.

“OK, I take it back. I don’t like Star Prince anymore.” You joked as you did the forth lunge. “You’re making me turn DC right now.”

“Oh, come on!” He laughed as he did two lunges in the time it took you to do one. “It’s Star-Lord.” You looked over at him as you stood up from your last lunge and he scowled. “Star Lord.” You smirked as he showed you the in-between rest exercise; bicep curls. His face dead-panned. “Star-Lord.”

“Fine, Star-Lord. But I’m still turning DC with those lunges.”

——

“So what do you do for work?” Chris asked as the two of you sat down at a table at a small diner in Hollywood Hills. You bit your lip and shook your head.

“I don’t right now, actually.” You said softly, your face red with embarrassment. “I… um… well, it’s a long story.” He nodded as he pushed his menu to the side and rested his arms on the table.

“There’s nothing wrong with that. You’re doing what you’re capable of right now.” You nodded and looked down at the table as the waitress came over to take your drink order. Chris ordered two waters and asked for a minute before folding his hands in front of him. “Look, I don’t know your story at all and I’m not gunna assume that we’re the same but I’m gunna tell you a little about my struggle.” You forced yourself to look up at him as the waitress set down two waters. He smile at you as he gestured to the menu. “Two burgers, medium, no buns. Side salads, Italian dressing on the side?” You nodded in agreement as he grabbed both menu’s and handed them to the waitress with a smile. You watched her melt in her spot as he looked back at you, giving you his full attention. He waited for her to walk away before he tilted his head a bit to the side with a genuine smile.

“When I first got into acting, I wasn’t all that healthy. I was pushing three hundred pounds, I was tired, depressed. I hated everything about myself most days… I had real health issues that were affecting me in a major way. It’s bad for your heart, your skin, your system, your spirit.” He gave you a weak tight lipped smile as you nodded in understanding and agreement. “So I get this movie contract; Zero, Dark, Thirty… you seen it?” You nodded with a slight blush.

“That was actually the first movie I saw of yours but didn’t know who you were. I never saw Parks & Rec.” He huffed a laugh and shrugged.

“It’s a good show. I’d tell you to check it out but then I feel like I’m super self promoting so I’m not gunna do that.” You laughed with him as the waitress brought over your food; essentially ignoring you like most people in the world did.

“Can I get you any thing else, sir?” She asked sweetly as she put the plates down on the table. He looked up at her with a smile.

“Ask her first so I can figure it out.” You watched her smart a bit before turning to look at you.

“I’m fine.” You squeaked.

“So am I. Thanks.” You watched her dance between her feet for a second before jumping the tiniest bit and walking away, quickly. Not missing a beat, Chris continued. “So anyways. I got help. Started working out with a trainer, got some advice from a nutritionalist. Got a lot of help from Anna and my friends… and I noticed something. The more I lost, the happier I felt in general. I wasn’t as tired and the depression ebbed. I was able to get back in the saddle if you know what I mean.” He teased with a smirk. You put your hand over your mouth to stifle your laugh around the bite of salad you were eating and he shrugged as he grabbed the ketchup off the table and spun it in his palm.

“So now I’m here. Now, like I said, I’m not gunna assume I know anything about you. But my guess is that you are in a position where you don’t have people behind you to motivate you to see who you can really be.” You sighed and put your fork down on your plate and folded your hands in your lap.

“It’s not that. Well… it kinda is.” You gave him a weak smile, moved your hands under your thighs and looked down. “I was always over weight. I used to eat my feelings, ya know and on top of it, I battle bi-polar depression and anxiety. Have since I was a kid. Making friends was never easy for me because of both those things. I learned it was easier to push people away than risk getting hurt. Which ended up being the exact opposite when I started dating. I date assholes that use me just because it’s better than being alone.

I was doing good for a while… just existing properly I guess you could say. I was on a medication that was working really well but I had an anger outburst at work and lost my job. So I couldn’t afford my insurance anymore. So I had to switch from the name brand to the generic which doesn’t work as well. My depression intensified to a nearly crippling level, my weight sky rocketed. It got so bad I had to move back in with my mom because there were days I couldn’t even get out of bed.” You pulled one of your hands out from under your thigh to catch some of the silent tears that were spilling down your cheeks. You finally looked back up at him and shrugged, desperate to try to play it off.

“I know what I need to do to lose weight. I went to a weight loss boarding school my sophomore year of high school. My mom tries to help but she is out of patience with my meds being off. If it wasn’t for the disability money I give her for bills, I think she would have kicked me out a long time ago.” You gave him one more shrug as you grabbed your napkin just for something to hold on to. “I really appreciate your help but I am much more hassle than I am anything else. Your image doesn’t need to be tainted with some hopeless nobody like me.”

“See, that’s where you’re wrong.” He said as he handed you his napkin to replace the one you had managed to shred in a matter of seconds. “That’s exactly why you need my help. Because you deserve it just as much as anyone else. You deserve to be given a chance too, Jamie. Just like I was. So now it’s my turn to pay it forward. And I would say ‘if you’ll let me’ but I know you’re gunna just say no so I’m taking it upon myself to say I’m not giving you a choice. Besides, like I said, it will keep my depression away. So we’ll be helping each other.” He smiled as he stabbed some lettuce on his fork and pointed at you with it. “Besides, you can’t say no to Star-Lord.” You huffed a laugh as you used his napkin to wipe your face.

“I mean, I could. And I probably will a bunch of times, too.” He shrugged as you picked up your fork and finally started eating again.

“And I still won’t take ‘no’ for an answer.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Come on, push, push, push!” Duffy Gaver shouted as you and Chris ran suicides in the gym. It had been one year and one hundred and twenty-seven pounds since the day you two had met and he had refused to let you slack once.

If he was at the gym, so were you. He had taken it upon himself to cover your gym fees with his Marvel trainer and his nutritionalist, Phil. After the first few weeks of you meeting him for work outs and lunch every day, it got to the point where even if you weren’t at the gym, you still were together. You were actually surprised at how much you had in common and you were amazed at how easily he could handle your bi-polar craziness with his comedy sometimes. And just like he had told you the day you met him, he had helped you as much as or more than you helped him through his divorce.

“Let’s go! Don’t slow down, Chris or your tacking on push-ups for Jamie!” Duffy shouted when Chris took a little too long to hit the line. You growled at your friend as you pushed yourself harder.

“Damn it, Chris!” You shouted as you slammed your hand down on the ground and took off in the other direction. He growled at you to ‘shut up’ as the two of you passed each other heading in the other direction.

“Alright, time.” Duffy finally said as you and Chris hit the ground on opposite ends of the room at the same time. You huffed as you stood up and looked at your best friend.

“I hate you.” You huffed as he sat down on the ground and fell back with his arms stretched to the side. He half-heartedly flipped you off as you grabbed two bottles of water and walked it over to him.

“Your Space-ness.” You teased as you dropped it on his stomach and sat down next to him with your back to his side. He reached up and squeezed your bottle of water in your face in retaliation.

“Knock it off, you two.” Duffy scolded as you grabbed his water and poured it over his face. You bolted up and ran away from your best friend with a giggle.

“Now I don’t feel bad about the push-ups.” Chris said as he used his shirt to wipe off his face. You chugged what was left of your bottle and grabbed a towel.

“Too bad you’re the one doing them not her.” Duffy said as he updated your and Chris’ progress on his iPad. You burst out laughing, spitting water all over the gym floor as Chris scowled over at your trainer.

“What?!”  Duffy looked up with a small shrug as he pointed at you with his stylus.

“She beat you by two; that’s twenty push-ups for you. She’s done for the day.”

“Sucks to be you!” You called out at Chris as you kicked your legs out in front of you and put your hands behind your head, casually. He looked up at you as he rolled over and pushed himself up into a push-up.

“Keep talking shit and you can stay home and not go to the premiere tomorrow night.” Your jaw snapped closed as you looked at him.

“What premiere?” He smirked as he looked up at you through his lashes.

“Marvel’s opening some movie and they want all of us to attend. I need my best friend as my plus one.” Your brow furrowed as you let your hands fall into your lap.

“You even gunna ask if I want to go or are you demanding?” You asked as he did his last push-up and pushed himself up off the floor.

“Come on, Jamie, really? If you don’t wanna go, don’t go. You wanna go, I’ll get you a dress and we go. Simple as that. No need to work your anxiety up over it. Go or don’t. Isn’t gunna stop me from kicking your ass in swimming laps tomorrow.” You sighed as he helped you up off the floor.

“Yea, about that. 8 am tomorrow, guys. It’s my anniversary.” You groaned as you looked around Chris at your trainer.

“Seriously?” The two of you said at the same time. Duffy simply shrugged as he grabbed his gym bag.

“If you’re late I’m tacking on time for both of you.” You sighed as you grabbed your gym bag off the floor. Chris bumped your hip playfully with his as he grabbed his bag.

“My place for a swim and lunch? Then I’ll take you to find a dress?” You looked up at him with a heavy sigh and nodded.

“Yea, I guess ‘cause I know you’ll keep pestering me until I agree to go with you.” He smirked and nodded as you both grabbed your car keys from your bags.

“You know you can’t resist all this sexy in a suit.” You fake gagged as you pushed open the gym door and walked toward you car.

“Swear to God someone needs to get your ego checked out.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Chris! This isn’t just ‘some premiere’, this is the freaking Golden Globes.” You said as you whacked your best friend’s arm. He smirked as he simply poured you a glass of champagne.

“If I had told you the truth, you wouldn’t have come with me.” You grumbled to yourself as you chugged the glass down and held it out for one more.

“I hate you.” He chuckled as he poured you half a glass and put the bottle off to the side.

“I know you do. Which is why you even put heels on for me.” You forced a scowl as you downed your second half glass of champagne and shivered.

“You owe me so freaking big for this, Chris. Like two cheat days this week, big.” He chuckled as he grabbed your handbag off the chair for you as the town car slowed to a stop at the end of the red carpet.

“I’ll give you three cheat days and take you to an after party for this if you smile pretty and pretend you’re not nervous at all.” You laughed and rolled your eyes as you scooted toward him on the back seat, being careful not to ruin your light blue, floor length, Marchesa’s chiffon dress. You could already feel your heart starting to race in your chest as one of the attendants opened the door but before he got out, Chris turned back and looked at you with a smile. “Just don’t picture them naked. Trust me when I tell you that’s the worst idea you could ever have.”

“Oh, my God.” You laughed as he got out of the car and held out his hand for you. “Why thank thank you, kind sir.” You sighed as he steadied you on your short, strappy heels; a still slightly foreign concept to you. You smiled at the fans that were milling around and of course immediately pictured most of them naked. A shutter rolled through your back and Chris chuckled as he offered you his arm.

“Pictured them naked, didn’t you?” He teased.

“God, it’s gross.” You laughed as he pointed toward the approaching path. The two of you paused as you waited for the celebrity in front of you to pass by the photographers.

“Told you. Now, this is where we sort of split. Thankfully for you, pictures here only last like five minutes then you get to suffer in the heat with me as we make it through small talk and interviews.” He tilted his head back and let out an evil, yet sort of quiet laugh and you elbowed him in the side.

“See, I told you that hand held fan would have been a good idea.”

“You know what we could have done? Hair blowing competition. See who has the best hair stylist and hair spray.” You tapped your nose in agreement as he was forced to let go of your arm.

“This is you fault, Chris. Ruining my fun.”

“How will you ever forgive me?” You shook your head as you were held back from your best friend.

“I won’t.” He laughed as the attendant put his hand politely in front of you as Chris posed in front of a dozen cameras, turning this way and that and shooting you goofy grins when he could. As you moved along behind him, you couldn’t shouldn’t help but notice that there were a few photos taken in your direction. By the time you even realized it was actually happening, Chris popped up next to you with a mischievous look on his face.

“So I was just informed that they’re passing out like top shelf champagne. Wanna go hunt some down since you’ll finally be tall enough to reach it?” You scowled and looked over at him.

“Man, I am nearly as tall as you even without heels. Keep making jokes and I will kick your ass in suicides again.” His smile dropped a bit and he shook his head.

“Please no! No more push-ups!” The two of you laughed as you took his arm once more; not paying any mind to think otherwise. The two of you spent the thirty minutes before the show actually started, laughing and joking and it took you nearly all that time to realize that you were standing in the middle of a crowded hallway of sorts, surrounded by famous actors and actresses.

Chris was an absolute angel once you were inside. He made sure he grabbed seats at a table where your back was to the isle so that you wouldn’t be too overwhelmed with all of the people in the building. He introduced you to the people at the table and made sure to go out of his way to start conversations that he knew you could be a part of too, making you feel, for the first time in a long, long time that you fit in with everyone that he introduced you too.

——

“I don’t care where we go, I just want to dance.” You informed Chris a little loudly (thank you champagne) as you bunched up your dress around your knees to keep it out of the rain that had started sometime during the show.

“Cardio! I’m down!” Chris said with the slightest slur as he took ahold of your arm so you wouldn’t fall and pulled you a little closer to his side. You squealed as the two of you darted through the rain toward the line of cars, leaving the attendant that had offered you an umbrella in your dust.

“Scoot, baby scoot!” He called out as he ripped open the door and nearly pushed you in the car. You made it to the middle of the seat on your side before he jumped in behind you, landing half on your hip and half on the chair. You burst out laughing as you grabbed his arm so he wouldn’t fall out of the car and you tried to scoot away from him to give him more room.

“Get your butt off my dress.” You snapped as you tried to move again, unsuccessfully. You heard a loud groan as the door to the car was closed and suddenly his entire body weight was laying on top of you.

“Better?” He asked as he rested his head on your arm and looked at you. You glared at him for a moment and shook your head.

“If you’re gunna do that, come here.” You chided as you pushed his hips off yours so he was laying a little more comfortably. He nearly rolled off the small seat and you shouted ‘no’ as the two of you frantically clung to each other in a fit of giggles.

“How about this?” He asked as he maneuvered both of you expertly so that he was on his back and you were laying on his chest. You hummed as you bent your knees so your heels touched your ass.

“Now TMZ can see my butt.” You giggled as you laid your head down on his chest.

“It’s a cute butt. I like it, a lot.” He responded lazily as he wrapped his arms around your waist. The two of you laid there for a moment before reality settled in to your champagne clouded brains. You looked up at him at the same moment he looked down at you, both of your cheeks flushing bright red for a second.

“Fuck it.” He growled as he moved his hands off your sides to grab your ass and pull you closer to him. His lips devoured yours as he spun on the seat and sat up so that you were straddling his lap.

“Home. Take us home.” You gasped as he started kissing his way down your jaw. You wrapped your arms around his neck and ran your manicured nails across his scalp. A low moan rumbled through his chest. His hands slid up your spin to your shoulders as his lips found yours once again. The two of you made out like teenagers for the entire ride with not a single care in the world if anyone saw you on during the 15 minute drive to his house. The car had barely come to a stop in his driveway before he scooted toward the door, threw it open into the rain and stepped out into the drizzle.

“Got everything?” He asked as he put you down gently on the ground. You nodded as you grabbed your handbag, his tie and one of your shoes. You both stepped away from the curb and you couldn’t stop yourself from grabbing his wrist as the car drove away.

“What are we doing?” You asked as you searched his beautiful green eyes.

“I’m doing something I should have done a long time ago… I’m making you mine.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Something lightly pulling at your hair pulled you from your sleep. It took only half a moment for the smell of Chris’ favorite cologne to flood your senses and a small smile crept across your face.

“How long have you been braiding my hair and stressing over this?” You asked sleepily as you forced your tired eyes open. You heard him chuckle as he ran his fingers through your hair to untangle the braid.

“Since I pulled out.” You rolled onto your back to look at your best friend in the world in the barely there sunlight. His eyes frantically searched your face, fear obvious in the beautiful green pools. “I fell in love with you… months ago.” You nodded as you reached up and cupped his jaw with your hand.

“I know.” You smiled at him and nodded. “So did I.” He let out a small sigh of relief and his forehead landed on your shoulder. You couldn’t help but laugh as you wrapped your arms around each other. “You could have woke me up for that, Chris.” He nodded as he propped himself up on his forearm.

“I was… I…” You nodded in understanding as you swung your leg over his to keep him in place.

“Scared to fall in love with someone that was a fan way back when. Scared to fall in love again. Scared that I wouldn’t feel the same…”

“Scared you would see me as just a friend.” He chimed in with a small nod of agreement. “Scared that sleeping with you was going to fuck up our friendship if you didn’t love me back.” You smiled and shook your head as you captured his cheeks in both your hands.

“Don’t be scared. If anyone should be, it’s me…” He shook his head as he reached up and brushed your hair off your face.

“Don’t be scared, baby. Just… be mine.” You nodded as you moved your arms around the back of his neck.

“For as long as you want me to.” He nodded as he shifted his body on top of yours; pressing his hardening cock into your core.

“I love you, Jamie.”

“I love you, Chris.” His smile threatened to break his cheeks as he leaned forward and kissed you as gently as possible. His arms moved from your sides and wrapped around your shoulders as he pressed his hips into yours. Your gasp at the stretch was lost in his mouth as you wrapped your legs around his waist. Neither of you needed to move, needing to just be together in that moment more so you knew it wasn’t a dream. Once he had hardened fully; filling you in a way you never knew possible, he rolled his hips tentatively. You let out a moaned whine as you dug your heels into his ass.

“Baby, move.” A low growl pulled from his chest as he pulled his hips back a fraction of an inch. A moan left your lips as his cock twitched inside of you and heat flooded your core around him.

“Say it again.” He growled as he rolled his hips back into yours until he bottomed out. His forehead rested against yours as you ran your fingers through his hair.

“I love you, baby.” He groaned as he started rolling his hips into yours.

“Fuck, sweetheart. I’m never gunna get tired of hearing you say that.” You nodded as he crashed his lips to yours, his tongue dancing with yours as he picked up a punishing pace.

Every inch of his well-endowed cock hit places inside of you you never knew existed before with each pass; dragging gasps and moans from your lips. You dragged your nails down his back, pulling a growl from his chest as he brought you up to the edge faster than any man ever had before. Your breath came out in short pants as you held on to his sweat drenched body.

“Chris.” You whined as he held onto your shoulders to keep you right where he wanted you.

“I know, baby.” He growled as his arm started to shake and his pace began to falter. His hips tilted the slightest bit to the side and his length hit a spot you never knew existed. Your body lurched against his as he assaulted your sweet spot with ease. Words that made zero sense filled the room as your orgasm came faster and harder than you had ever felt before in your life. A warm rush raced through your veins and your thighs shook around his hips. You screamed his name as your nails unintentionally drew blood on his back and a rainbow of colors danced across a white background behind your closed eyes.

“Jesus, fuck!” Chris yelped as your walls gripped him tight and pulled him in; triggering an intense orgasm that rocked his world. His nails dug into your shoulder as he tried to keep himself upright as you rode out your highs. Neither of you moved as your muscles twitched with after shocks and your hearts hammered against each others chests.

“Don’t you ever fake it with me again.” He panted as he rolled to his side still buried inside of you. Your brow furrowed and you shook your head.

“I didn’t…” He shook his head and pulled you into his chest.

“You did last time.” You nodded in understanding. You weren’t a virgin by a long shot but the men you had dated before had never fucked you the way Chris just did.

“What was that?” You asked with a weak huffed laugh. He kissed your forehead and hugged you impossibly tighter.

“That’s sex when you actually love someone.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So apparently E! News knew we were dating before even we did.” You glanced back at Chris as you made breakfast, despite the fact that it was dinner time.

“Is that so?” He nodded as he spun his laptop around toward you with a smile.

“You looked amazing last night.” With a quick flip of the pieces of French toast, you took a step toward the breakfast bar he was sitting at and smiled.

“That’s so weird… what does that say? ‘Unidentified date’? What am I, an alien?” He chuckled as he spun his laptop back while his phone started ringing from his bedroom for the fifth time since you actually forced yourselves out of bed. You recognized the ringtone immediately and you gestured in that direction with the spatula in your hand. “She’s just gunna keep calling.” You told him as the phone call finally started ringing through on the screen in front of him.

“Really? I had no idea.” He joked as he ignored the call on his laptop and got up; letting your ‘Lazy Daze’ playlist turn back on. “I’m spending quality time with my alien girlfriend and don’t want to talk to my ex-wife.” He snaked his hands around your waist as you swayed to the music. He rested his chin on your shoulder as you flipped off the stove. “Do you know… I fucking love you in my shirt.” You giggled as you grabbed two plates out of his cabinet.

“You know this isn’t the first time I’ve stood in your kitchen, cooking in one of your shirts seeing as though I practically live in your guest bedroom.” With a hum of agreement, he slid his hands slowly up to your breasts.

“Yes, but this is the first time I can do this.” He squeezed both your breasts once and made an obnoxious horn noise before dancing away when you tried to whack him with the spatula.

“You’re so funny.” You sassed as you served two plates. You didn’t even get a chance to pick them up when Chris spun you away from the counter by your hip.

“Dance with me.” He said as ‘That’s Why God Made Mexico’ by Tim McGraw came on. You laughed as he grabbed your hand and spun you in a circle. It wasn’t unusual for him to ask you to dance in the middle of doing something but this time, it was different. It felt more personal, more intimate… more you. He spun you around his kitchen without a care in the world as he sang along to the music. You felt like you were on a cloud, floating in the air of a dream that you never had to wake up from. With a smile, you laid your head on his chest. He pulled your hand in his to lay in front of your face over his heart.

“You have no idea how long I have waited for a morning like this.” He said softly as he kissed the top of your head. You smirked as you looked up at him through your lashes.

“It’s dinner time, baby.” His eyes narrowed as he tickled your side.

“Way to kill the moment, sweetheart.” You giggled as he spun you away from him as his phone rang once again.

“There. She ruined the moment, not me.” You joked as you stood on your tiptoes and pushed his shoulder so he would spin around. With a small chuckle, he dipped under your arm, awkwardly. “Wait! Hold that thought.” You laughed as you let go of his hand. You darted over to the counter, shoving the two plates of food out of the way so you could climb up on the counter to make yourself taller. You barely had enough time to stand up when Chris put his shoulder into your stomach and moved away from your perch.

“Perfect! Way to go baby, ‘cause now I can do this!” He laughed as he danced wildly to ‘Old Time Rock and Roll’ by Bob Seger. You squealed with laughter as he held your thighs tight and sang his heart out; dipping and swaying and being mindful that he didn’t hit your head on anything. You used his boxer clad ass as a set of drums as you bobbed your feet in time to the music, laughing your ass off. Out of no where, as the song was ending, you heard Anna’s distinct voice call out Chris’ name from the front door.

Whap!

“Chris!” You shouted as your hands flew to the side of your head a second after it connected with the edge of the counter when he spun toward the noise a little too quickly. Your body went sailing in the other direction as he flipped you upright and carefully set you on the counter.

“Shit. Honey, I’m so sorry.” He said as Anna came running into the kitchen at the noise.

“What is going on here?” She asked as she looked between the two of you; her ex-husband in only boxers and you only in his button down, dress shirt from the night before and a pair of panties.

“Anna, we may still be cool with each other but you can’t just walk into my house.” Chris said as he glanced over at her while he tried to see if he had split your head open.

“You weren’t answering your phone. I was worried.” She responded over your hiss as he pressed on the tender spot on your head.

“We were making dinner. I was going to call you back later.”

“Ice, Chris.” You chimed in as you pointed at the freezer, suddenly feeling really small.

“I thought we agreed that we would tell each other if we started dating before the divorce was one-hundred percent finalized.” Anna asked as she eyed you up and down. Chris looked over at her with his brow furrowed.

“Are you kidding me right now? We just…”

“Why am I finding out from Perez fucking Hilton that you took your new girlfriend to the Globes.” Chris groaned as he carefully placed a bag of frozen corn on the side of your head.

“First of all, she wasn’t officially my girlfriend until about 5:30 this morning. By the way, this is Jamie, gym partner, best friend, roommate, now my girlfriend. The girl you never want to hear about when we talk who you have met at least three times in the last year. Second, you’re my ex-wife. You would have gotten the call when I had a minute to actually make the call. Calling me a bunch of times and showing up at my house because you’re jealous isn’t going to get you any…”

“Oh, I am not jealous of some… fan girl who’s probably just after you for your money.” Your face turned bright red and you subtly bit your lip to hold back your tears. With a small nod, Chris found your eyes and gave you a tight lipped smile; knowing that that comment cut deep to you.

“Funny thing is, Anna… people said the same thing to you about me, didn’t they.” He glanced over at her and gestured toward the door with his chin. “You should go now. You got your answer.” He looked back at you as he carefully lifted the bag of vegetables off your head to see if you were bleeding. “Oh, and leave your key. This isn’t your house anymore.” You heard her growl as he cautiously put the bag back and stepped forward between your legs. You rested your pounding head against his chest and wrapped your arms around his waist as her shoes clapped annoyingly across the tile floor. You couldn’t help but jump a bit as she closed the front door sharply.

“Shit Jamie, I am so, so sorry.” He said as he wrapped his free arm around your shoulders, ignoring how cold the bag was in his hand. “You OK?” You shook your head as a few tears slipped down your cheeks.

“I don’t want your money.” You said softly as you sat back to look at him, ignoring the slight throb in your skull. He nodded as he wiped the tears off your cheeks with his thumb.

“I know you don’t. She’s just… jealous Anna. That’s all it is.” He gave you a small smile as he leaned down so he was eye level with you. “I know you well enough to know that if you were really after my money, you would have left the first time I had you do suicides for half an hour straight.” You huffed a laugh as you reached up and replaced his hand on the make shift icepack.

“Don’t kid yourself, Pratt. Money or not, I was already in love with you at that point.” He chuckled and nodded as he helped you off the counter.

“Yea, I know the feeling. How about breakfast in bed and a Netflix marathon to make up for your ‘welcome to dating me’ concussion?” You glanced over at him as he grabbed the two dinner plates off the counter and some silverware from the drawer.

“Who said I want to date you now? You just smacked my head against the counter! What, did you absorb my concussion for me or something?” You yelped a laugh when his foot connected lightly with your ass as you walked toward his bedroom.

“I bet you if I call your mom right now, she will have our wedding invitations printed out tomorrow.” You laughed as you climbed on the bed and turned to take the two plates.

“You know as well as I do my mom has been dying for us to get together just like we have.” You looked up at him as he traded you his plate for some silverware. “Why did you wait so long, anyways?” He looked over at you with a tight lipped smile and nodded slowly.

“I wanted you to love yourself as much as I love you first.” Your heart melted in your chest as he leaned over and gave you a chaste kiss. “Love you.”

“Love you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[squishysvt]

Get Away

Member: Johnny (NCT) Word Count: 2,427  A/N New admin here! I got inspired to write this while on my June teenth camping trip and I loosely based it on a few events that happened while on it. Despite whatever vibe the title gives, this isn’t angst (saving that for another day hehe). I’d like to thank the other admins for giving me plenty of support with my writing, especially Admin Sierra and Madi! Okay, I’ll shut up before I start rambling (more than I already have), hope you enjoy! -Admin Ay

*quick warning that there’s a tiny bit of cursing here*

 “Yo, pack your bags, loser! We’re going camping!”

 Your previously planned luxurious night of sipping on apple juice and scrolling through Instagram was ruined with the loud bang of your door being opened. You barely had time to flinch as your best friend towered in front of your sprawled figure on your living room couch.

 “Johnny, why the hell are you in my house?” You swung your legs out of the way to make space for the intruder to sit next to you.

 “Well, you left the door unlocked for starters. Which is a habit you need to fix by the way. What if I was a murderer?”

 You rolled your eyes. “Yes, mom.”

 “Anyway, hurry and go pack we’re camping for the next few days.”

 “I don’t remember agreeing to this.”

Before you could say anything else Johnny quickly picked you up off of the couch, throwing you over his shoulder and carrying you to your room. Strings of curses turned into giggles as he tossed you onto your bed and tickled you.  When you finally calmed down Johnny leaned down to your ear, a different kind of fluttering sensation in your chest than what was caused by your laughing.

 He whispered, “Pack your bags.”

 Knowing Johnny could be pretty stubborn if he wanted to be, you sighed as you rolled out of your soft mattress to pick out stuff you might need. After a good five minutes staring at your empty rucksack you remembered that you haven’t actually camped before. The closest experience to it being that one time when you were little and your dad pitched a small tent in the backyard that you never actually slept in. The sounds of little creatures scurrying around outside scared you far too much to stay in it.

 “Johnny, what am I even supposed to bring?!” You yelled once you realized he was not still in the room with you.

 “Look it up! You have internet!” Johnny’s response came back muffled, most likely from stuffing his face with food from your kitchen.

 When you had finally pulled up a few things on Pintrest, you sighed.

 “I’m gonna need a bigger bag.”

 The car ride to whatever campsite Johnny had planned to go to was mostly you going through different scenarios in your head, each ending in either you or Johnny dying, or maybe even both.

 Noticing the nervousness practically radiating off of you, Johnny rested one of his hands on your knee. “Chill, it’s all good in the hood.”

 “I’m not all that experienced with nature, okay? What if a water moccasin gets into our tent? Or–”

 “What the hell is a water moccasin?”

 “It’s those fucking snakes that swim in water!”

 “Well, I mean, I don’t even think those things live at the place we’re going to?”

 “What about other snakes?! What about possums? Those things are vicious. Did you know armadillos carry leprosy? I could get skin disease!”

 “You know an awful lot about animals you don’t like.”

 “I need to have the upper hand if I ever see one. Know all their weaknesses and all that. Have you even camped before?”

 Johnny winced. “Technically…no”

 Your face darkened in horror. You were being lead into a death trap. Neither of you had experience in surviving in the outdoors. If the animals didn’t get you, the insects would, if it wasn’t the insects, it would be the weather, if it wasn’t the weather…

 “(Y/N), stop over thinking things, okay? Have a little faith in me.”

 You decided not to respond. The last time you trusted Johnny, you got a 50 on one of your tests. The horrendous grade made you swear that you would never let him help you study your class material ever again. However, his hand that still hadn’t moved from it’s position on your leg grounded you a little. Maybe everything would turn out alright.

  A small jolt and the sound of the car’s gear shift causes you to slowly open your eyes. It takes a few seconds to realize where you were, you notice Johnny is already out of the car. When you finally decide to come out and help, you’re met with his lanky self attempting to carry all of the bags at once. The sight of Johnny swaying back and forth with the items caused you to chuckle.

 “Do you need any help, you dumb giant?” The sentence coming out feathery, Johnny’s struggling still managing to tickle you.

 “What does it look like?”

 You smiled as you took your rucksack and another unfamiliar bag, probably filled with a whole bunch of Johnny’s unnecessary gadgets, from his hands. Spotting a picnic table nearby, you set the bags on it and turned back to Johnny. He was also making his way to the table. Normally with his uselessly long body Johnny would have probably taken half the time you did to get where you currently were, but the large amount of bags he carried slowed him down immensely. Rolling your eyes every time he dropped something, you decided to meet him halfway and take some of the load off his hands before something broke.

 “So what are we supposed to set up the tent or something now?” You asked once everything was put down.

 “Assuming you don’t want to sleep outside in the dirt, I would think so.”

 You scowled at the tone he used. The two of you normally went back and forth but it was normally more light hearted than anything. “Dang, what’s with the attitude?”

 Johnny sighed, “Sorry I just…it’s just been a bad week. I barely got any sleep last night and I got fired from my dumb summer job–”

 “Is that why you wanted to go on this sudden camping trip? To get away or something?” Your words had come out a bit muffled as you hugged Johnny, your face buried in his chest.

 “Something like that”

 The both of you stayed in that position for a while, enjoying each other’s presence in the quiet nature around you. The nervousness the thought of staying in the outdoors gave you was long gone. You sighed as you reluctantly pushed away from Johnny.

 “Let’s get that tent put up now.”

 The tent materials were surprisingly heavy, causing you to groan as you picked them up. Johnny automatically moved to take the bag out of your hands when he heard you struggling.

 “Jeez, let me help you with that before you hurt yourself, princess.” He winked as you pouted at him.

 “Do you even know how to put up that thing?”

 “Uh, no. That’s why I have instructions.”

 To your surprise, Johnny had managed to set up the tent in around 10 minutes. You gave him a very impressed nod, Johnny giving a very smug smirk in response. The stroking of his ego may have been a bit of a mistake, but you were too happy that his mood seemed a little lighter than before to care. While he had been setting up the tent you put up your two chairs. You had also taken out sandwiches for you to eat and to feed Johnny every time he took a small break. This left you with nothing much to do since it was not dark enough to start a campfire yet.

 “Now what?”

 Johnny looked around the area to find something to do, soon gaining a rather mischievous look on his face. “Why don’t we skinny dip in that creek over there?”

 You felt your face heat up at the suggestion and slapped his shoulder in annoyance.

 “Okay, maybe not skinny dip but we can still swim in it.” He started towards the body of water and you followed him.

 “But I don’t have a swim suit,” you stated.

 “Neither do I.” Johnny smirked at you. Seriously, he smirked way to much and you were starting to wonder when he started the annoying (and sort of heart fluttering) habit of his.

 Once again your face had darkened in horror as he began to take off his shirt and jump into the creek.

 “Johnny, what the hell you could get hurt?! How do expect your clothes to get dry?! You could get sick!”  

 Despite your panic Johnny only laughed. “Come on, (Y/N)! I can dry off by the fire. Stop being such a square and have a little fun!”

 When you had managed to convince yourself that everything was fine you (hesitantly) stepped into the water as well. The water was cold, contrasting to the summer heat. It took you a second to get used to with Johnny splashing you with water constantly, but once you did you began to loosen up. Soon you and Johnny were enjoying yourselves in the water. Both of you had lost track of time until Johnny had pointed out the sun starting to set and decided to head back to the campsite and start a campfire.

 You had decided to pull out your speaker and play music from your phone as Johnny started the fire. Initially you had planned to sit down and rest as Johnny got the flames going, but in the end he had been struggling way too much and you had to eventually step in and do it yourself.

 “Uh, looks like you got it so I’ll go ahead and take out the stuff for the s’mores.”

 You only nodded and hummed in response, trying to remember your dad’s random survival tips on how to start a fire.

 “Did you by chance bring any skewers to roast the marshmallows with, (Y/N)?”

 You took your attention away from the fire towards the parked car where Johnny was rummaging through the car’s trunk. You shook your head until you realized he wasn’t look at you and spoke up.

 “No, I didn’t even know we were gonna do s’mores tonight.”

 “Haha, well shit I forgot to bring them. I’ll go snap some twigs from trees to use.”

 Bringing your attention back to the sparks you were creating you only nodded.

 “Don’t get bit by a snake,” you sighed distractedly.

 Once you had finally gotten the fire started you had noticed that Johnny had been gone quite a while. Getting worried you got up to call him when a high shriek interrupted you. Alarmed you ran into the direction of the noise and was met with Johnny doubled over in pain and holding his hand.

 You started to panic.

 “Johnny are you okay? What happened?”

 You moved Johnny to stand up straight and grabbed his hand to get a good look at it. His face scrunched up in pain while he groaned.

 “I got stung by a bee.”

 At his words your head snapped up.

 “Are you kidding me? Ugh, I hate you so much sometimes.”

 You grabbed Johnny’s hand and led him to the picnic table to sit down. You then marched to the cooler holding your drinks and grabbed a handful of ice.

 “What are you,” you put the ice in the hand where Johnny was stung, “Fuck, that’s cold!”

 Before he could drop the cubes of ice you stopped him. “Shut up and stop being a wuss. The ice will reduce the swelling so make sure it’s on the sting.”

 Johnny looked at you surprised. “How’d you know to do that?”

 “Didn’t I tell you I like to keep the upper hand with these type of things?”

 Both of you laughed and made your way to sit next to the burning campfire. Johnny took a bundle of sticks from his pocket.

 “S’mores?”

 You smiled, “Yeah, when you finish roasting your marshmallows I’ll make yours for you. Being one handed and all.” You pointed at his hand holding the ice.

 “Thanks.”

 After eating more s’mores than probably healthy and drying up, you and Johnny decided to head to bed. As Johnny made his way to the picnic table that his sleeping bag laid on top of, you felt a sinking feeling in your stomach.

 “I forgot my sleeping bag.”

 Your small voice caused him to look up to hear you better.

 “My sleeping bag. I forgot it.”

 Johnny coughed at your statement. “Um…I guess you’ll have to sleep with me…?”

 The suggestion caused you to blush and look away. Sure the both of you were friends and you didn’t mind skinship, but sleeping together? That was unexplored territory. Before your mind could wander towards the unknown scenarios of the night you shuffled towards the tent.

 “Yeah, okay. Let’s go. I’m tired from all that swimming.” The sound of your voice leaving your mouth caused you to cringe. It coming out in a higher pitch than intended.

 Once both of you were in the tent and settled the sleeping bag in the right position, you both didn’t really know what to do. You soon got tired of the awkward atmosphere surrounding Johnny and you and decided to take the lead in the situation.

 You huffed, “So are you going to lay down first or am I?”

 Johnny seemed to have snapped from his original state of mind after you spoke. “You first, princess. Make yourself comfortable.” To put more emphases on his use of the word “princess,” he bowed and pointed in the direction of the sleeping area.

 You rolled your eyes at the gesture. “Gee, thanks.”

 You crawled into the somewhat large sleeping bag and wriggled around to get yourself comfortable and stared at Johnny as he slid into the bag as well. He was about to zip it up until you nudged him.

 “Don’t. It’s hot and you’re so huge half of you might have to stick out anyway.”

 Johnny giggled and threw an arm and a leg over you.

 “Stop being annoying.”

 Rather than pushing him away however, you turned so that you were facing each other and threw an arm and leg over his body as well. With the eventful day slowly weighing on you, you slowly began to fall asleep. The rise and fall of Johnny’s chest and his steady heartbeat gave you comfort.

 It was then when you heard a soft “I love you,” from the male. If you had been a more awake condition, you probably would have been in shock.

 But you weren’t.

 So you allowed yourself to be entranced by Johnny’s warm embrace and the quiet of the nature around you, and slept.

 The two of you both would have to save the conversation about your future relationship for in the morning, when you both woke up sweaty from the heat.

[blissfulcastiel]

Get Closer to Me

Fandom Writing Challenge | blissfulcastiel Prompt: Sweat Pairings: Destiel Tags: College au, friends to lovers, confessions, angst/fluff, bed sleeping bag-sharing AO3 ; thank you to my beta-bae @adoringjensen ♥

Cold air brushes across Castiel’s cheeks as the door swings open, hinges creaking their usual protests. He breathes out, a small puff of white briefly appearing before him until it disappears within seconds. Stepping out of the Impala, he glances around the small campsite, finding a small fire pit with the stones in disarray. Other than that, there’s nothing. So Sam wasn’t kidding when he mentioned they’d be ‘roughing it’. Their saving grace is that there are bathrooms down the road.

“Brr, it’s gonna be a cold one,” Jess comments as she gets out of the car next and hugs herself with a small shiver.

“No kidding. Sam, we’re going to freeze our asses off,” Dean grumbles beside him as he steps out next, the door slamming closed behind him.

“You’re the one who changed his mind about coming, Dean. And wasn’t I the one who told you that leather jacket wouldn’t be warm enough?” Sam counters, throwing him a look over the hood of the car. Castiel catches something along the lines of ‘whatever’ under Dean’s breath as he moves towards the trunk to unload their bags.

Sam does pose a good question, though. When he asked Castiel if he wanted to join him and Jess to go hiking, he’d asked if Dean was coming too – not that it would’ve swayed his decision one way or another. Even though he’s been friends with Dean since freshmen year of college and didn’t meet Sam until later, a good friendship formed between them. But when Sam told him Dean ‘had no interest in sleeping on the frozen ground next to a pair of gross lovebirds’, disappointment laid thick over Castiel. He couldn’t tell if Dean truly had no interest in hiking or he just didn’t want to spend more time with Castiel. He’s fearful it’s the latter.

Ever since that party last week, things have been off between them. He was hoping this outing would’ve brought them back together and they can officially get past this… awkwardness. That’s why when Castiel went over to their house so they could leave together for their last minute camping trip, he was surprised to see Dean getting behind the wheel to drive. By the look on Sam’s face, he wasn’t the only one taken aback by Dean’s presence. It begs the question: why did Dean change his mind?

Castiel’s happy Dean did – he’s always happy when Dean’s involved – but so far, they’ve barely spoken two sentences to each other. Just an awkward greeting and an offer from Dean to help Castiel put his bag in the trunk. If that’s any indication to how the rest of the trip’s going to go, this is going to be a long two days.

“You know how to pitch a tent, Cas?” Sam asks, bringing him out of his reverie.

“It’s been awhile,” he admits, following them around to the back of the Impala to help unload their supplies.

“Don’t worry, I’ll show you the ropes,” Dean tells him with a grin and a wink as he hauls out one of the tent bags. Castiel snorts at the awful pun. Okay, maybe he was over thinking everything, as per usual. Maybe things with Dean are fine. At least, that’s what he’s desperately trying to convince himself of as he follows Dean to pick out a smooth patch of ground to set up their tent, Sam and Jess settling nearby to do the same.

They work together fine, but there’s really no conversation except for Dean giving Castiel instructions and him asking questions in return when something isn’t going together correctly. Once they have the tent up, Dean leaves him to set up the guy lines as he demonstrated while he goes about making everyone some sandwiches before they hit the trail. Castiel glances over at him occasionally, still feeling unnerved by how he’s supposed to be acting. Working close to Dean wasn’t uncomfortable per se, but… something’s not right. Dean is Castiel’s best friend, and he always knows when there’s a problem. The only difference this time is that he can’t tell if Dean feels this too or if Castiel’s the only one still trying to get past what happened. They still haven’t had that conversation.

Dean glances up, meeting Castiel’s eyes and his mouth twitches as he holds up a hand – along with a slice of cheese – in a half wave. Shit, caught staring. Castiel never used to be embarrassed if Dean caught him staring.  

“You okay, Cas?”

He nods quickly, tearing his gaze away while his chilled cheeks fill with warmth. “Uh – yes. Maybe, um, if you have a second, check my work?”

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Dean slap together a completed sandwich, dusting his hands of crumbs, and walks over. Just the presence of Dean standing behind him feels like a heavy weight slowly crushing Castiel. Even worse – Dean leans down, reaching past Castiel to pluck at one of the thin ropes.

“Nice work, Cas. They’ll hold well if we get any crazy ass winds tonight.”

“Thank you,” Castiel murmurs, still very much aware of how close Dean is to him. Dean seems to finally notice the same and he jerks back to his feet, putting space between them. “Lunch is, um, ready.” Castiel listens as Dean walks over to Sam and Jess’ tent, the couple having decided to disappear inside to ‘set up their sleeping bag’.

Over lunch, Sam outlines which trails they’re going on and which natural wonders they want to see, the biggest one being a frozen waterfall. With the route he and Jess make up, it’s set to keep them out the rest of the day and hopefully not too much longer into dusk. With that as a source of motivation, they’re quick to gather their things and set out on their first trail.

Castiel enjoys the outdoors. He finds nature fascinating and relaxing. It’s his time to clear his mind – or let it wander – and feel the peace surround him. This hike, however, is anything but peaceful.

First, there’s the overwhelming presence of Dean walking next to him. Most of the paths are wide enough that they can walk two by two with Sam and Jess leading the way. It’d be pretty damn obvious if Castiel was avoiding Dean by either walking ahead or lagging way behind. Then there’s the known fact that they walk together wherever they go. He hates it because they’re so close. At times, their arms brush together and it leaves Castiel momentarily stunned, instantly thrown back into a time when the room was hot and packed with too many sweaty bodies while the floor vibrated with the music’s heavy bass beneath their feet. A time that might seem hazy from the several shots he’d taken, but he can still very much recall the way Dean’s hand felt brushing against his arm, bodies pressed together from lack of anywhere else to go. He always snaps himself out of the memory before it can progress too far, and keeps walking as if nothing happened.

Second, Dean’s grumbling the whole way. About the cold. About almost slipping on a random frozen puddle. About how ‘this waterfall better be some epic shit for all this effort’. Sam and Jess are too wrapped up in their conversation to hear him, but the little comments are starting to get under Castiel’s skin. Because it still doesn’t make sense. Why did Dean fucking change his mind?

Then there’s the final straw. The moment that convinces Castiel he’s actually in Hell.

They’ve arrived at their final destination, the frozen waterfall, after hiking for hours. Castiel can see why Sam and Jess were so excited to see it. The sight is truly breathtaking. Winter may have just begun, but the cold has already hit them hard and therefore creating the wonder Castiel’s currently staring up at in awe.

It isn’t a huge waterfall by any means. It’s spread wide as it tips over the cliff’s edge above, making it look bigger than it is, but the stream isn’t too intense. Standing under it in the summer would probably be akin to standing in a shower with excellent water pressure. Now, the water’s frozen mid-air, some sections of the waterfall touching all the way to the ground. Behind the distorted icy wall is an alcove that could possibly be considered a small cave, where Sam and Jess are currently exploring. Castiel’s not really sure where Dean went. Maybe he followed after them.

It’s been a fairly gray day, but there have been occasional breaks in the thin layer of clouds that tease the blue sky behind them. Now, with the sun setting behind the cliff, the colors of sunset reflect off the gray while creating a picturesque backdrop beyond the waterfall. Jess, having a love for photography, has been taking pictures along the way and Castiel could easily ask her to take the photo for him, but he decides to see what he can capture on his own.

Stepping back, he pulls off a single glove to fish his phone from his pocket and open the camera app. He holds it up, but he’s too close to get the full view he wants. Step by step, he backs up as more of the cliff fills the screen. It’s too late that he realizes he should probably be paying attention to where he’s walking, because one moment he’s upright, the next his feet are tripping over a rock. He scrambles to regain his footing, but lurches the wrong way and ends up on the small stream created by the waterfall, the frozen water doing no favors in his attempts to right himself. His feet finally slip out from under him, and with his heart in his throat, he braces for impact, praying his head doesn’t land on anything sharp. His fall is stopped by something, though. A tight grip wraps around his arms, and he’s leaning against something soft. He opens his eyes, having squeezed them shut at some point, and looks up to find green eyes staring down at him.

“You should probably watch where you’re going,” Dean tells him.

Castiel breathes out, body slumping against Dean’s while his mind plays catch up. “Sorry.”

“Are you okay? Can you stand?”

With the help of Dean holding him, he’s able to regain his footing on the ice, but Dean holds on securely while Castiel takes stock of himself. “I think I’m good. Nothing seems to hurt.”

Dean grins at him. “You’re lucky I was here, then.”

Castiel swallows, heart still thudding in his chest, only for different reasons this time. “Um, thank you. I, um, didn’t realize – I thought you were with Sam and Jess.”

Dean shrugs. “Figured they’d want some time alone to be in their nerd heaven. I’m more interested in finding a way to climb this thing and get a vantage point.”

“Any luck?”

“Not without doing some serious climbing or walking around to find a better slope. I don’t know about you, but my fingers and toes are too frozen for all that.”

Castiel chuckles. “I’d have to agree.”

For a moment, they both look at each other and seem to realize that Dean is still holding onto Castiel’s arm. He drops it awkwardly before nodding towards the waterfall. “I, uh, believe you were trying to get your picture?”

Castiel pushes away the emptiness that comes with the loss of Dean’s touch. Those feelings are bad. They’re the reason why the incident happened. They’re the reason a cloud of tension has been hanging over them ever since. He nods before lifting his phone to snap his picture. When he opens it up to check the quality, he’s acutely aware of Dean looking over his shoulder at it.

“Damn, Jess is gonna be jealous someone can take as good a picture as her.”

Castiel snorts, looking up at him. “You’re just saying that.”

“Come on, Cas, I would never…” He trails off suddenly. Something flashes through Dean’s eyes then. Was it doubt? Hurt? Castiel can’t place it before it’s gone, replaced quickly with mischief. “Hey, get a picture of me licking the waterfall.”

Castiel chuckles. “Don’t you need a few shots first to think reckless ideas are good ones?” The words are out of his mouth before he realizes it and the regret is instant. The playfulness of Dean’s face dissipates into guilt and… something else. “Dean, I didn’t mean –“

“It’s fine, Cas. You’re not exactly wrong.”

Before Castiel can try to do some damage control, Sam’s calling to them. “Hey, you guys done looking around? Sun’s going down fast and we should be heading back.”

“Sure thing, Sammy,” Dean replies gruffly as he walks away from Castiel. He waits a few moments before sighing and following suit. He hadn’t meant to say what he said, but is it not true? Alcohol has a long history of clouding people’s judgments, which happen to include kissing your best friend. Castiel swallows thickly, quickly shoving the memory away before it can fill his mind with images and feelings he shouldn’t be thinking about.

The walk back to camp drones on too long. Dean’s walking ahead of the group while Castiel brings up the rear. He can feel Sam and Jess’ curious gazes glance back at him, but he ignores them. By the time they make it back to camp, it’s pitch black with the exception of their flashlights lighting up the darkness. Sam gets to work building the fire while Dean loads their cooler from the trunk of the Impala. Jess and Castiel set up their chairs around the fire pit and give order to the stones meant to contain the fire. Once Sam gives life to the flames, they all take a moment to thaw their frozen bodies and visit the bathroom before roasting some hot dogs, a classic camping meal according to Dean.

They talk as a group, Sam and Jess taking up most of the conversation as they pass around her camera to view her pictures. Dean and Castiel never speak directly to each other. In fact, Dean won’t even look at him. Not that Castiel is looking much at Dean either. He sneaks quick peeks here and there, but he’s too terrified of what he might see if their eyes meet. His stomach churns and he’s worried he may just be sick. This was never supposed to happen.

So many times, Castiel’s thought about what it would be like to kiss Dean. All sorts of scenarios, all sorts of events. Just about every one of them was more favorable than the drunken make-out session they had. Of course it felt incredible. Castiel still recalls the way Dean’s lips felt against his, how wonderfully soft and smooth they were. The way Dean’s hands gradually slipped around his waist, pulling them even more impossibly close than they already were. His tongue – oh god, his tongue. Like silk, sweetened from the fruity tequila cocktail he’d stolen from Charlie. Castiel swore he could stand there all night, relishing in the way Dean felt and tasted. The kiss – quickly turned plural – was sloppy, but oh, did it make Castiel’s head spin. For a moment, he was convinced he was getting drunker off Dean than the actual alcohol.

At the time, Castiel didn’t care that he’d regret not tearing himself away sooner. In that moment, it was perfect to him. Hindsight is 20/20, though. Now he can see how he lost his chance. His one and only kiss with Dean, and it was wasted at some random party with alcohol being the only reason it happened. Castiel can’t remember how it got initiated, but he’s fairly certain it was all on him. Years of pining mixed with tequila means very little restraint on Castiel’s end.

But aside from the kiss, their friendship. What if they won’t ever be able to get past this? Castiel’s been trying to put it out of his mind, but how can he ever act like he isn’t painfully in love with his best friend after getting a taste of what it’d be like if things were different? Keeping Dean as a friend is more important than some stupid kiss, but how long will he be able to keep up this façade that he’s fine?

“Cas?” He looks up to see Jess looking down at him, eyebrows furrowed. “You okay?”

He blinks a couple times before giving her a smile. “Sorry, I just - Are you and Sam turning in?”

She grins at him. “It’s okay. I know we did a lot of walking today and it’s cold as hell. But yeah, we are. Maybe you should be getting some sleep too?”

Castiel nods, getting to his feet. “Good idea.” He says his goodnights to Sam and Jess before they disappear inside their tent. When they’re gone, he glances to Dean, who’s staring into the fire. “Are you, um…”

Dean doesn’t meet his gaze. “In a few.”

“Okay,” Castiel sighs softly. “Goodnight, Dean.”

“Night, Cas.” The soft way Dean says the words only serve to make Castiel melt and ache all at once. Without sparing another moment, he slips into their tent and zips it up behind him. He quickly sheds all his layers to change into something more comfortable to sleep in – a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt with a hoodie thrown over. Within minutes, he’s tucked into his sleeping bag, watching the shadows created by the flames slowly fade as the fire dies out. It’s then he hears Dean stomp out the remaining embers and starts unzipping the tent. Castiel closes his eyes and is eternally grateful for the dark to hide his horrible attempts at acting. Once Dean is done changing into his own version of pajamas – it’s too hard to see through the dark what he’s wearing – Castiel hears him slip into his sleeping bag.

Then it’s just quiet.

Castiel honestly tries to go to sleep. He really does. But his mind won’t shut off. It won’t stop thinking about Dean and the kiss and everything that’s happened since. It won’t stop thinking about what the future holds for them, whether Castiel should come clean about his feelings or hope the eggshells will eventually clear and he and Dean can be the friends they were before that damn party.

Out in the middle of nowhere, essentially, with the darkness too thick to see much of anything, time is not a concept to Castiel. He has no idea how much of it has passed. An hour? Two hours? Thirty minutes? He could probably sneak a look at his phone, but he doesn’t want to give away that he’s been up this whole time.

He keeps trying to make his eyes shut. Eventually the exhaustion from the hiking and shivering from the cold will wear him out and he’ll have no choice but to pass out. But why won’t it just happen? Probably another twenty minutes passes, if Castiel’s being realistic, and the wind starts to pick up. The tent is doing pretty well at taking the brunt of it, but he can still feel the icy breeze sneak in through the zipper of the entrance and ‘windows’, despite them all being zipped closed. If he wasn’t shivering before, he definitely is now.

There are times when Castiel wishes for endless nights. This is not one of those nights.

Barely withholding a frustrated sigh, he crawls out from his sleeping bag and reaches for his duffle. He packed an extra pair of fuzzy socks to use at night should it get unbearably cold. He feels around for the soft bundle, but comes up with nothing.

“Please, please, please,” he prays softly, this time dragging out all his stuff in hopes the socks will appear. They don’t. And then he remembers. The socks are sitting in his laundry basket, waiting patiently to be packed. “Fuck,” he sighs, sitting back dejectedly. He must’ve forgotten them while he was too busy wallowing over Dean not coming on the trip. Which, as it turned out, was completely pointless.

“Cas?”

He freezes at the sound of Dean’s voice. It takes him a couple seconds to remember to answer. Obviously Dean knows he’s awake now.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

Some shifting. “Nah, you didn’t – it’s alright. Is, uh, everything okay?”

Castiel sighs. “Yes. It’s just that I didn’t exactly come as prepared as I intended.”

Dean chuckles, a quiet sound. “Leave it to Sam to want to go camping while it feels like Elsa iced us all over.”

“At least it’s not snowing.”

“Thank god for that. Please promise me you’ll never take me camping in the winter again.”

A smile pulls at Castiel’s lips. He wants to ask why Dean even came in the first place, but the comment gives him some hope. Any talk about the future together is a good sign.

“You have my word. Although, I doubt Sam and Jess will want to have a repeat of this night. I bet they’re just as cold as us.”

Dean snorts. “No way. Those two are definitely sharing a sleeping bag. They’re probably alright.”

“Ah yes, I forgot about the benefits of sharing body heat.”

“If we’re smart, we should do that too.” At first, Castiel doesn’t think he hears him correctly, but then Dean clears his throat. “I mean, um, if you’re really that cold. Survival 101, ya know? I, um, have a double, so there’s room over here.”

“You’d be… okay with that?” Castiel asks slowly.

“Come on, Cas. We’ve kissed before, haven’t we?” He can tell Dean means to say it as a joke, but it comes out almost timid, as if worried Castiel might storm out of the tent at the reminder. If he knows what’s good for him, Castiel would politely decline the offer. There’s no way he’d be able to sleep next to Dean and not slowly die the rest of the night. But right now, Castiel’s freezing and he misses being close to Dean. He hates this space created between them. If this is Dean’s attempt at getting past the tension, then there’s no way Castiel’s going to leave him vulnerable.

“Alright.”

He feels his way over Dean, and it takes some shuffling before they get settled in the sleeping bag. There’s enough room for them to turn over, but close enough that Castiel can feel Dean’s breath tickle his face. They lay in silence, but it’s oddly not awkward. There’s just a sense of ease being this close to Dean. They’re able to do this. Coexist in silence and not feel the need to fill it. Until a question blurts out of Castiel’s mouth before he can stop it.

“Why did you change your mind?”

Dean doesn’t answer. Not right away, at least.

“I still think about that kiss.” It’s barely a whisper. “I… Fuck, I know I shouldn’t be saying this right now but - I think about that kiss too fucking much.”

Wait… What?

“And I know we were drunk. I know it meant nothing, but dammit Cas, I – I can’t forget it.”

“Dean,” Castiel interrupts, his head spinning. He can’t be really saying what Castiel thinks he’s saying. But there’s one thing that Castiel wants to make perfectly clearly. “It wasn’t meaningless to me.”

“It… It wasn’t?”

Castiel huffs a soft, humorless laugh. Well, if they’re going down this road, might as well see what’s at the end. “Not in the slightest. You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to…”

A pause. “Do you really mean that, Cas?”

Castiel nips at his lip. He’s thankful for the darkness because a blush is burning hot on his face, but damn if he isn’t dying to see exactly what’s showing in Dean’s eyes right now. “Of course. I – I’m sorry it had to come out this way but… how could I not develop feelings for you, Dean? You… you mean too much.”

As if set off on a trigger, the warmth on Castiel’s side disappears and suddenly there’s a weight settled on top of his body while lips dip down to meet his. Castiel’s breath hitches in his throat and it takes a moment for his brain to figure out what the hell is happening. When it finally does a heartbeat later, Castiel’s frozen fingers tangle themselves in the fabric of what feels like one of Dean’s Henley’s and he returns the kiss. It doesn’t last more than a couple seconds before Dean pulls back enough to whisper clearly against his lips.

“So long, Cas.” Another soft kiss. “So long I’ve wanted to tell you. I should’ve, but – dammit, I had no idea how. You’re my best friend and I didn’t…“

Castiel grins in the dark, kissing the corner of Dean’s mouth. “I think we both shared the same thoughts.”

Dean chuckles quietly. “You know, I never thought it’d come out like that. Drunk at one of those stupid frat parties. I… I always kinda pictured us going on a date or something…”

“Dean Winchester, old fashioned? I would’ve never guessed,” Castiel teases, earning him a gentle shove against his shoulder.

“Shut up. I wanted to be classy for you, okay?”

In reality, Castiel knows perfectly well how thoughtful Dean is to his love interests. He may put on a tough front, but he’s never been anything less than a gentleman in his past relationships. That was always hard to watch for Castiel, wishing it could be him. He reaches up to feel along Dean’s jaw, which causes him to shudder. They can’t see each other, but he’s hoping the touch will make for a good substitute of seeing each other’s eyes. “I like you as you are, Dean. You don’t need to be anything but that for me to be happy.”

Dean ducks his head, forehead resting against Castiel’s shoulder. “Jesus, you – you can’t say stuff like that, Cas.”

Castiel smiles. “Say for the sake of curiosity, we haven’t had our first kiss…”

Dean lifts his head. “Well, since you asked.” There’s no doubt a smirk is painted on Dean’s lips and a glint is in those eyes right now. Butterflies take flight in Castiel’s stomach as Dean’s lips brush against his, a soft peck that’s quickly followed by a firmer press. It’s innocent and tender, completely different from their first drunken kiss. This must be what it feels like for angels to soar through the clouds. So breathtaking and light, the feeling of invincibility and awe spreading throughout his body. Castiel’s hands trail down Dean’s side before spreading out over his back, feeling along the strong muscles underneath the Henley. Dean, still holding himself up with one arm, uses the other to cup Castiel’s face, his chill fingers searing against the warmth that seems permanent under his skin now.

After a few moments of gentle kisses, there’s the lightest brush of Dean’s tongue against Castiel’s bottom lip, and he parts his mouth experimentally. A soft sigh escapes him after the first caress, and he eagerly seeks out more. Honestly, it’s silly for Castiel to feel like he’s never kissed anyone before, but kissing Dean completely sober like this, without the taste of alcohol, it’s making his head spin more than the first time, which also was ten times more explicit.

It doesn’t take much for the kisses to lose their shyness, transforming into complete and utter want. Dean works his tongue deeper into Castiel’s mouth, and Castiel pushes back in an attempt to get more. Their breathing ratchets up with the heat, hands moving more eagerly over skin and clothes, touching all they can. A low fire starts to burn in Castiel’s stomach, and it’s materializing in the way his cock gradually hardens. Feeling Dean’s cock do the same, pressed against his thigh, isn’t doing him any favors either. Imagine how powerless he is when Dean adjusts himself so that when he thrusts ever so gently, it brushes right over Castiel’s erection.

“Dean,” he moans against his lips. Dean chuckles in response. Castiel isn’t too far gone to get his revenge, though. Gripping Dean’s hips, Castiel moves his hips and gives an answering thrust.

“Fuck,” Dean breathes, fingers tangling into Castiel’s hair. They continue to go back and forth, their kisses becoming sloppier and more desperate as they rut against each other. Jesus, they’re like the horny teenagers in those eighties movies Dean had them watch during their movie nights. He should probably be embarrassed at how fast he’s approaching the edge, his boxers absorbing the pre-come as he aches for more while having no control over the desperate sounds that are escaping him. He can’t find it in himself to care. Dean seems to be the same above him anyway.

“Shit, Cas, I’m gonna –“ And just like that, Dean rips himself from Castiel’s arms, rolling onto his back beside him. Castiel whines pathetically at the loss, but his mind won’t give words to his protests. “Christ, Cas, we can’t – we shouldn’t do this here.”

Castiel’s trying hard to catch his breath, feeling dizzy from being so close to coming and then suddenly lacking any stimulation. But Dean’s right. If they come now, they’d either have to sit with the mess in their boxers all night or be assaulted by the cold to change into new ones. Neither option sounds particularly pleasant. “You’re right,” he admits reluctantly.

For several moments, they lay in silence with the exception of their labored breathing, not feeling chilled at all. Far from it. In fact, he wants to shed his hoodie because his blood feels like it’s boiling under his skin, causing it to become damp with sweat. That’s one way to warm up, he supposes. When it feels he’s come down from being so high, he rolls over to nuzzle himself to Dean, almost worried he might wake up any second now and realize this is all a dream. He’s reassured by Dean’s arms wrapping around him, and a soft kiss is placed just above his eyebrow. If only he was able to look at Dean right now. Read whatever could be in those green eyes.

“I’m glad you changed your mind. About coming with, I mean,” Castiel finds himself saying.

“Me too, Cas.” A soft kiss. “Me too.”

Sleep takes Castiel then, and when he wakes up the next morning to find himself still tangled with Dean, whose hair is a mess from last night, he smiles. His heart skips a beat when Dean blearily blinks open his eyes, slowly adjusting to the bright sunlight streaming through the walls of the tent. All sorts of shades of green and hints of gold dance in them as they come to life and seem to remember the events that led them in the same sleeping bag.

“Good morning, Dean,” Castiel murmurs.

Dean smiles lazily at him, adoration prominent as he gazes back at him. “Morning, sunshine.”

It’s then that Castiel swears he’s fallen in love.