#we have been through this before and i swear to everything even remotely fucking holy i am fed up with this shit.

[saintedbythestorm]

Alright youtube.. listen... no sit yo ass down and listen.

Stop giving me that damn commercial for that fucking show from a Chinese cult.

I am ready to fucking burn something.

Stop it.

[13uswntimagines]

Always Hers (Emily Sonnett x Reader)

Request: A sequel to Always Yours where Kelley introduces Sonnett to reader and they hit it off, and a relationship builds. Basically it’s 7000 words of Emily and reader falling in love, Christen realizing she royally messed up, Tobin freaking out just a touch, and Kelley totally not gloating about it. 

Author’s Note: This was requested by @women-enthusiast​

Emily was terrified. She had been having the time of her life, sat in the front row of an Y/n L/n concert dancing next to Kelley. Hell, during Shut Up and Dance you had even winked in their direction (making all of the girls around them swoon). But about halfway through the show, a very large man had come to stand in front of them.  

He had simply stood and stared, leaving them mostly alone until the very end of the show. He sent them a small smile and an “if you two ladies could come with me please”, before escorting them out of the crowd and deeper into the stadium. Which every turn down the twisting hallway, she felt the knot in her stomach get tighter and tighter. What the fuck was happening? 

“You gotta relax before you have an aneurism. Everything will be fine,” Kelley said quietly as the man led them through a door and into a cozy-looking room. 

A couch sat against one wall, a Stanford sweatshirt thrown carelessly across it and a guitar propped up beside it. The sound of running water gave them a very good guess of what was behind the door on the opposing wall. 

Emily took a deep breath, holding in a gasp. This couldn’t be what she thought it was. 

“If you would please wait here, Ms. L/n will be with you in a few minutes. Feel free to help yourself to the table,” The man smiled, gesturing towards the table filled with water and a fruit tray across from the comfy looking couch. 

Kelley rolled her eyes, immediately making her way over to the food table to peruse the options. She scrunched her nose as she looked over the items. 

“Well this is bullshit,” She mumbled, grabbing a grape and popping it into her mouth. Emily frowned, unsure as to how Kelley could be so casual right now. 

“What?” She asked, stepping towards the table. She blinked at the spread. There was way too much food on the table for one person. 

“There aren’t any chocolate-covered strawberries. They always used to be on her riders,” Kelley mumbled, puffing her cheeks out as she grabbed her another grape. Emily frowned. How the fuck did she know what was supposed to be on the table? She opened her mouth to ask the question, but a voice behind her beat her to it. 

“Apparently they were unavailable this last minute,” Emily whipped around in shock, her eyes bulging at the sight of you in a pair of sweatpants and a white tank top, casually running a towel through your hair. You smiled crookedly at them, your dimples on full display. It wasn’t your stage smile though, Emily noted (barely able to take her eyes off your exposed biceps enough to actually think about it). It was easier, more natural.

“Holy shit, you’re-“ Emily studdered, her brain unable to process that you were standing right in front of her. Your lips quirked in amusement before you looked past the blond to your favorite defender. 

“You couldn’t come and greet us yourself, you had to send oddjob after us?” Kelley asked, tossing another grape in her mouth and crossing her arms. She hadn’t brought Emily here to set you up, but her reaction was definitely amusing. She also hadn’t missed the extra blinks you had given the blond defender. Perhaps her plan was going to work better than expected. 

You rolled your eyes at the woman. Greg had been your security guard for years and she still refused to learn his name. You were just lucky that their presence hadn’t caused a riot in the crowd. 

“You conveniently forgot to tell me that you were coming, and Greg didn’t want a replay of the riot we almost had at the Superdome,” You said, your eyebrow quirking up. She winced at the memory, shaking her head and finally closing the distance between the two of you. 

You huffed her tightly to you, resting your cheek on the top of her head. The two of you swayed lightly as you hugged. It had been way too long since you had seen each other. 

“Missed you sunshine, you never answer your phone anymore” She hummed into your neck. 

“Missed you too,” You said softly, holding her tighter, and ignoring the second statement. The truth was that it was hard, that sometimes when you talked to Kelley all you could think about were your college days. It wasn’t just her that you pushed away, it was everyone. 

You had been friends with the woman even before the two of you went to college. She was your sounding board, your rock, more your sister than your friend at this point, and she hated you were locking yourself away again. 

“You, you’re-“ Emily’s voice brought you out of your thoughts. You squeezed Kelley one last time before returning your attention to the blond standing wide-eyed in the middle of the room. 

You had to admit that she was adorable with her pink cheeks and her hands pinned at her sides, unsure of what to do. 

“You should introduce me before she passes out,” You whispered loudly, nudged Kelley. The older defender smirked at her counterpart. She hadn’t meant for you and Emily to be more than friends, but if it turned out that way, she wouldn’t be upset. You were the sweetest person she knew, even if you had lost some of your sunshine over the years. You would treat the blond defender well and vice versa. You both deserved to be happy. 

“Right. Emily, this is Y/n. Y/n this is frat daddy junior Emily,” She nodded, not missing the eye contact between the two of you. You smiled wide, taking a step towards the frozen defender and grabbing her hand. 

“Well Emily, it’s a pleasure to meet you. A friend of Kelly’s is a friend of mine,” You said, bowing slightly and lifting the back of her hand to your lips. You could be suave when you wanted to be. 

“You said my name,” She said dumbfounded, her mouth hanging open slightly. 

“I think she’s made one too many tackles,” You laughed, glancing at Kelley over your shoulder. The woman facepalmed. The most interest you had shown in another person in nearly a year, and she’s too star-struck to realize it. 

“I swear she’s not usually like this,” Kelley mumbled, and you bit your lip in amusement. 

“Whatever you say Squirrel,” 

*****

Emily smiled down at her phone. The two of you had been texting nonstop since the concert, and she found herself slowly becoming addicted to your sweet and sometimes dirty sense of humor. 

It was interesting, how different you and your stage persona were. 

She learned how quiet and thoughtful you were. But no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t hide the sadness that seemed to linger behind your million dollar smiles. A cautiousness behind every interaction. She wondered what had turned you from Kelley’s so-called sunshine into a cloudy day. 

She bit her lip watching the three little dots, indicating that you were typing, hoping that you would like the restaurant she had chosen. She giggled at your quippyness about how posh the place sounded. 

“Who ya texting that’s got you smiling like that?” Kelley asked, placing a hand on the woman’s shoulder. Emily jumped, her phone nearly falling out of her hands as she rushed to get out of the message, before seeing it was only Kelley. 

“Oh, just Y/n,” Emily mumbled, her cheeks turning very pink.

Kelley smothered her smirk as she sat down beside the defender. “That’s cool, what’s she up to?”

“She’s in town, we’re going to get lunch or something,” Emily shrugged nonchalantly, and Kelley’s smirk got bigger. She wasn’t sure if you would go for it after the whole fiasco with Christen. 

“Really?” 

“You sound surprised?” Emily’s nervous eyes met hers. Kelley paused unsurely. How did you tell one friend that your teammate hurt the girl that she might be interested in so bad that she was terrified of relationships? 

“Y/n got hurt really bad by someone she loved. She hasn’t been the same since,” Kelley said softly. 

“You mean she hasn’t moved on yet?” Emily’s head tilted to the side, trying to understand. She had heard your stories through music, but she never thought about how that might translate into real life. 

Kelley shook her head, biting her lip. After Christen, you had rebuilt your walls and hidden your heart away in your castle so no one could hurt you. That was until you laid eyes on Emily. “She hasn’t let anyone get close to her again,” 

“Oh,” 

“Yeah, Just don’t hurt her, alright?” Kelley hummed, patting Emily’s knee. If you were going to open up the gates again, she didn’t want an army of white walkers marching in. They would pillage the little bit of you that was left. But the way pink traveled up Emily’s neck all the way to her ears told her that her best friend knew how delicate this situation was.

“We’re just friends Kell,” Emily muttered. 

“Whatever you say junior, and for the record, she didn’t text me about lunch,” Kelley laughed, patting her leg one more time as she stood. You two would figure it out on your own time. 

****

Emily smiled at Greg as she passed through the door to the little cafe you had chosen for lunch. He winked at her and pointed towards a table in the back, away from the windows twiddling your fingers nervously. 

All the security and fans staked out everywhere you went took some serious getting used to, as did your propensity for cheeseburgers over anything remotely fancy. Each time the two of you had done this over the past few months you had chosen somewhere with reasonable food and amazing milkshakes. 

The crooked grin you saved specifically for Emily broke across your face when you saw her, and you stood from your chair to greet her in a warm hug. You kissed her cheek and stepped back to pull her chair out for her, before handing her a beautiful (plastic) Rose. It had become a thing between the two of you. You didn’t like real flowers, they died, but fake ones stayed forever. 

“Hey superstar, I’m glad you could make it,” You grinned, pushing her chair in, and taking the seat across from her. 

“Well, you’re too cute to pass up,” She quipped back, enjoying the pink that dusted your cheeks. 

“I ordered you’re regular. Is that ok?” 

“You remembered my order?” Emily asked, her eyes widening in surprise. You felt the warmth in your cheeks travel up to your ears. The truth was that you had known her order after the 3rd time lunch the two of you had done, (and you ordered extra onion rings in case she didn’t want the French fries). 

“Well, we’ve done this a few times,” You shrugged, picking at the table. Her hand covered your own, and you smiled softly at the action, suddenly feeling shy. 

“You’re adorable,” She mumbled under her breath as the waitress set two milkshakes on the table in front of you. Noticing that yours wasn’t your normal chocolate peanut butter concoction and instead was the strawberry one she had tried last time. 

“Hmm, 20 questions?” You asked, sipping your shake (that you definitely didn’t get in case Emily changed her mind). 

It had become your go-to game with the woman, and both of you have always had a blast with the get to know you game. 

“Are you going to answer mine honestly?” She quirked an eyebrow up at you. The last time you had seen each other, you fibbed just slightly (not so slightly) about your new music. You were reluctant to give spoilers, and you told her your lead-off single was going to be a fun song playing off the saying sex on a beech (cake by the ocean). Instead, you had chosen something much sappier, about the start of a new relationship called Begin Again. 

Your fans had gone crazy, trying to put all the pieces together. It seemed they were divided on if you and Christen had gotten back together, or if you were finally moving on. You kept your lips sealed, and it had taken Emily more than an hour to finally weasel to real answer out of you. 

“Scouts honor,” You saluted, taking another drag of the strawberry milkshake. 

“You go first,” Emily grabbed your shake and took a sip, pushing her own chocolate one back towards you. You blinked, thinking for a second. You had never mastered suttelty in normal conversation, and you had no idea how to ask your question. 

“Are you dating anyone?” 

“Nope,” She smiled, popping the p. You released a breath you didn’t know you were holding. 

“Cool. I believe you’re now entitled to a question?”

Emily tapped her chin in thought, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Are the rumors true? Kelley won’t tell me,” 

“You’re going to have to be a little more specific babe,” You smirked, smiling kindly at the waitress as she set down your double cheeseburgers. Your life was plagued with rumors. That you were dating this celebrity, that Preath had broken your heart. 

“You dated Christen and all your songs are about her?” Emily asked, grabbing an onion ring off your plate and dipping it in your milkshake. 

“I think dating would be a bit of a stretch,” you snorted, shaking your head. You weren’t sensitive about it anymore considering the media shoved it down their throat every chance they got. Emily waved her hand as if to say go on, you sighed. Despite the media pressure, you hadn’t really told anyone (besides Kelley) about it before.“We were best friends, who occasionally slept together. I caught feelings, Christen didn’t. She wanted Tobin and I was her plaything until Toby was ready.” You said the midfield turned forward’s name mockingly, looking wistfully over Emily’s shoulder. 

She watched you for a moment, taking in the faraway look in your eyes. Her heart ached at the deep line in your forehead that hadn’t been there mere moments before. 

“That was only the first part of my question,” she said softly. You blinked back to yourself. 

“I write about what I feel, so some of them are about her. But lately they’re all about an amazing girl who makes me feel things that scare the crap out of me, things I wasn’t sure I’d ever feel again,” Your y/e/c eyes met her blue ones and you smiled softly.

Emily sat up in surprise, anxiety beginning to bubble up in her chest. She liked doing this with you, and she didn’t want it to stop. She opened her mouth to ask her, but your shaken voice cut her off. 

“Would you be my girlfriend?” 

“I thought you’d never ask,” Emily smiled, leaning across the table, cupping your cheek and placing a very sweet kiss on your lips. Your fingers tangled into the baby hairs at the back of her neck as you carefully pulled her closer. You pull away a second later, connecting your forehead and breathing heavy. You would take that as a resounding yes. 

“Does this mean I can hear the rest of the album early?” She asked, her breath fanning across your lips. 

“I’m sure we can work something out,” you said as you leaned in again. Gosh her lips were addictive. 

*****

Distance sucked, but over the past year, you and Emily had made it work. It was difficult with your music commitments and her soccer stuff, but as far as the two of you were concerned, it was worth it. 

Emily laid with her eyes closed, her phone resting on her chest and Kelley sitting beside her as the radio host introduced you to the audience. She was happy to relax and listen to you talk about the thing you were the most passionate about (besides her). 

It was nice to hear your voice, even if it sounded even more tired than it had when you talked the night before. 

She could tell how much the press tour for your new album was taking out of you, and it killed her just a little bit to not be able to comfort you. You hadn’t exchanged the words yet, but she was sure that you loved her as much as she loved you ou. 

“So I’ve got to ask, this album sounds so much different than both Heartbreak Hotel and Divinely Inspired to a Hellish Extent. There’s less pining and a lot more love,” The interviewer asked casually, but Emily could hear the smirk in his voice. The fans were going nuts now that your music had shifted from heartbreak to a blossoming love story. They all wanted to know who (Christen) had you writing sappy love songs. 

“Yeah, I’m in such a different place than when I wrote either of those two albums, and I think that’s reflected in the music,” You volleyed the question, twisting it around so you were answering it and not answering it all at the same time (a skill that Emily both admired and was terrified of). 

“So, it’d be safe to assume that you’re first two albums were about one relationship and this one is about another?” The interviewer pressed. And Emily groaned loudly. God, why couldn’t they just let it go? It had been nearly 3 years since you and Press were a thing. You had moved on and were finally happy, why wasn’t that enough? 

Kelley smirked at the outburst, side-eyeing the defender. She was thrilled that you had finally found someone who would treat you right. Both women were so caught up that they didn’t notice the couple entering the room and sitting on the bed opposite of them. 

“God, why can’t they just let it go?” Christen said loudly after yet another question from the interviewer. All eyes snapped to her, and Kelley raised her eyebrows at the outburst. “Don’t give me that look, I’m tired of them trying to get her to confirm that we dated,” She huffed, crossing her arms and leaning further into Tobin who began to rub her back. 

“I think dating is putting it loosely. If I was her I wouldn’t have just thrown you under the bus, I would have been the fucking driver,” Kelley rolled her eyes. 

“That was uncalled for,” Tobin grumbled. 

“You’re just upset because you didn’t know Forget You was about you,” Kelley snorted. Remembering how Tobin had walked around camp whistling the tune until she had broken the news. (Still, you found it hilarious considering the original lyrics). 

“You know what I meant,” Tobin grumbled. 

“I’m pretty sure she’s tired of it too,” Emily said softly, smiling almost sympathetically at the woman. You had gotten over most of your anger, and insisted that she shouldn’t be mean to Tobin. Love made you all do crazy things. 

“I write what I feel, and I think the only safe thing to assume from that is that I’m happy,” You added, bringing everyone’s attention back to the interview. Emily smiled softly at the phone. You were happy. You had gained your sunshine back, as Kelley put it, and she was glad that she was part of the reason for that. 

“And sickeningly in love?” The interviewer again tried to dig. 

“And in love,” Your smile was visible in your tone. Emily masked her sudden intake of breath. She knew, but it was the first time she was hearing it out loud. 

“I didn’t know she was in a new relationship” Christen’s eyes snapped to the phone in surprise. She knew you would move on eventually, but actually seeing evidence of it was causing all kinds of feelings to bubble in her chest. Feelings she didn’t have the right to have. She made her choice and she was happy too. You deserved that. 

“The new love songs are so sweet. It’s probably her best album yet,” Emily added with a shrug. It wasn’t just the music that was good, it was the knowledge that you were both falling together. That you would be there to catch each other was amazing. (And the memory of you strumming out a few of the love songs in your underwear in a concert just for her was a bonus too).it didn’t matter that the world was sure they were about Christen. Everyone in this room knew they weren’t. 

“I’ll have to listen to it, wonder who it's about,” Christen said thoughtfully. She shouldn’t deny that she missed you. Missed the friend part of your relationship. 

“Someone who knows just how lucky she is,” Kelley said, looking Christen in the eyes. It was no secret that she still harbored ill feelings over what happened between Chris and her best friend. Emily shrunk slightly. The two of you had agreed to keep the relationship on the down-low, and Preath were the last people she wanted to tell. 

Christen’s jaw dropped in surprise. You never talked about your relationships. Not even when you and her were involved. You weren’t good with emotions and it was a more ‘gentle-womanly thing to do’.

A barely audible “She told you?” left her lips. And Emily’s heart rate skyrocketed, thinking that this was about to become even more awkward than it already was. 

“My lips are sealed,” Kelley smirked, running her hand across her mouth in a zip it motion before throwing away the key. She wasn’t about the mess up the most stable relationship you had ever been in, and it was fun to watch Preath squirm. 

Emily took a deep breath. Some relaxing evening this had turned out to be. She went to swipe the radio app away on her phone when your name popped up next to a text. She couldn’t help the edges of her lips turning up. 

You really did have amazing timing. 

*****

Emily loved peaceful nights at camp. Early nights where the team bonding movie ended at a decent hour and they didn’t have early morning practice the next day. Sure her bed's cuddles weren’t as good as yours, but they still comfy. 

She had gotten to talk to you tonight, a long FaceTime. It bothered you how exhausted you looked, how your crooked smile hadn’t met your eyes. The chaos of touring was rough, made even more difficult by time zone differences. But still, you had made time to talk to her, to tell her how much you loved her. 

She idiot wondered what had pulled her out of her sleep, before the soft knock on the door sounded again. 

“Who the fuck is at our door at 3 Am?” Emily groaned loudly, rolling onto her back, and glancing over at her roommate in the other bed. She thought late-night pranks were banned at this camp, and she had been lucky to be roomed with her best friend. 

“I have no clue. Maybe if we ignore it, it’ll go away,” Lindsey mumbled, burying her face further into the pillow, moaning loudly when the knocking got even more insistent. 

“Fuck, I’m coming, cool your jets,” Emily huffed, throwing off the covers and marching towards the door. She flung it open, ready to yell at however the fuck had the nerve to bother them at this hour. But the words died on her lips the second she saw your very tired form leaning heavily against the doorframe, plastic Rose clutched firmly in your hand. 

“you’re here,” she said softly and you flew into her arms. You held her tightly, running your nose along the collum of her neck. She stumbled with the foot-wide, grabbing the doorframe to steady the two of you. 

“Sorry, I just. I missed you. I can’t sleep without you,” You mumbled into her skin, placing a kiss on the spot she loved so much. Emily wasn’t sure if you were apologizing for waking her up, or for nearly tackling her to the ground, but she didn’t care. It was so nice to have you in her arms after nearly 2 months of being apart. 

“Shhh, come in. It’s alright, I missed you too babe,” She hummed, stepping back and pulling you into the room, and closing the door. She grabbed the flower, smiling softly at it before placing it in her nightstand. She could tell how exhausted you were (you had probably flown in right after your show), and the last thing you needed was her teammates coming out to see what the commotion was. 

You mumbled something incoherent into her neck, following her as she sat down on the edge of the bed. 

“Babe? Who is it, Son?” Lindsey Asked sitting up and taking in the sight of you basically sitting on Emily’s lap with your head buried in her neck. You looked up at the woman wide-eyed, and she gasped. “Holy shit, you’re Y/n L/n and Disani just called you babe,” 

“Surprise...” Emily smiled, and you huffed into her neck. She could feel your nose twitching, a telltale sign that you were probably about to fall asleep.

“How long?” Lindsey asked breathlessly, holding in the awe at how cute you two looked together. She never expected the big badass singer to turn into puddy in her best friend’s arms. 

“Like a year and a half?” Emily shrugged, shushing you again and running fingers through your hair, scratching your scalp. Your schedule was brutal and you had a propensity to avoid sleep when you were stressed. But on the bright side, she had learned that you always got cuddly when you were sleepy Like a puppy. 

“Damn, That’s why you’re so obsessed with all her music. It’s about you,” Lindsey laughed. Emily’s cheeks turned bright red as she cleared her throat. You weren’t really awake enough to register that your girlfriend was still your number one fan. 

“Let’s get Y/n into bed. You must be exhausted,” Emily said softly, maneuvering so you were both under the covers. You hummed, leaning up to peck your girlfriend’s lips before settling back into your favorite hiding spot. 

The room was quiet for a few minutes, and Emily breathed a sigh of relief as your breathing evened out. You had never been a great sleeper, and she worried about how much you got while you were on tour. You were adorable, even more so when you were sleeping. Your face relaxed and you looked younger. Emily couldn’t help but wonder how the hell Christen ever let you go when you offer up the opportunity to see you so unguarded (a sight your fans rarely got a glimpse of). 

“You know the media is going to think you snuck into the hotel to see Christen right?” Emily murmured after a few minutes, not expecting you to reply. 

“Fuck the media. They need to chill with that Preath bullshit,” You huffed, burrowing deeper into the woman and placing a kiss on her collarbone, completely forgetting that you weren’t alone. You would call your publicist in the morning and have all the rumors squashed anyway (you didn’t want another disastrous interview like the one where Ellen had found pictures of you and Christen from college). 

“Wait you dated Christen?” Lindsey gasped, nearly falling out of her bed, and you groaned incompressible into your girlfriend. 

“A loose interpretation from what I’ve gathered,” Emily giggled, again comparing you to a puppy on her head. 

“It doesn’t matter, we all know who’s bed I was in tonight,” You huffed. 

“Damn right we do,” Emily tilted your chin up to kiss your lips. Emily wasn't the jealous type, but it was hard when the entire world was convinced you were with someone else. It also helped that you were always so sweet with her and made sure she knew how much you loved her. 

You pulled her closer, your fingers tangling in the baby hairs at the back of her neck as your tongue ran over her bottom lip. God, you had missed her. You moaned lightly when Emily’s tongue met your own. 

You were brought out of your moment by a very loud cough. You sat bolt upright, blinking owlishly around the woman in the opposite bed. 

“No sex while I’m here alright?” Lindsey smirked, amused by this you that few people ever got to see. This adorable side that seemed to be entirely taken with her best friend. No wonder you wrote her so many sappy love songs. 

“You’re no fun Linds,” Emily cackled, pulling you back down beside her. 

It would be a pain in the ass to get you out of the hotel without anyone seeing you, but the risk was totally worth getting to spend time with your girl, even if it was only for a few hours. 

****

You couldn’t wipe the smile off your face if you tried. You had won 6 grammy’s the night before, and now you got to sit in the stands while your girl fought for the Shebelieves cup. You hadn’t been to a soccer game since Paris, and you had to admit it was slightly addictive watching your girl be a badass defender. It was one thing watching it on TV for the 3 years you had been dating, and an entirely different one to actually be here. God, she was gorgeous. 

You pulled your jacket tighter around you and shifted your hat down a little bit further. This was Emily’s moment, and you didn’t want to draw any attention away from her. 

*****

Tobin was freaking out, her normally chill persona nowhere to be found. Her hands were shaking and she didn’t know if it was fear or rage. Who the fuck gave you the right to show up at one of their games (sporting a jersey nonetheless) after you had released a song like To Make You Feel My Love. She thought that you had given up on chasing Christen years ago, but why were you here, seeming hiding in the stands. 

The media had been shoving the Preath narrative down your throat for months, maybe it had finally gotten to you. Yet, weren’t you in your own relationship? Maybe they had all read the signs wrong and you were still head over heels for Christen. 

If you were going to finally make a stand for her girl, why had you chosen this venue? She shook her head, heading into the tunnel for halftime, she needed to figure out how to stop your bid for Christen’s heart. 

“You didn’t tell me she was coming,” Tobin growled, passing Kelley as she made her way to her locker. 

Kelley shrugged, unable to suppress her smirk. “She’s not here for you anyway,” 

“She’s wearing a jersey Kelley,” She spat, glaring at the defender, who simply shrugged again. 

“Yeah, so? She wanted to do something nice, prove how much she loves her and all that,” 

Tobin opened and closed her mouth several times, her fist clenching as Kelley all but confirmed her biggest fear. But she wasn’t going to go down without a fight.

*****

You found it incredibly amusing that your girlfriend couldn’t seem to keep her eyes off you during the second half. Hell, it was so obvious that at one point she had tripped over thin air cause she was looking at you instead of where she was going. 

And by the time the final whistle blew, you had garnered the attention of most of the national team, wondering why their frat daddy junior was so distracted. 

Lindsey got to you first, hopping up onto the railing to talk to you (as you had chosen a front row seat just behind the bench). 

“Hey rockstar, wanna come down and see your girl?” She smiled, leaning over the rail to tug you forward. You glanced behind her, wincing at the glare Tobin was sending you. You tugged your jacket closed again and shook your head. 

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea Linessie,” 

“Oh come on, Kelley and I will protect you so you can serenade Sonnett,” She laughed goodnaturedly, remembering the many times you had convinced your respective best friends to help you surprise your girlfriend. 

“Haha, very funny,” you frowned, biting your lip. You really wanted to see Emily, but from the looks Tobin was sending your way, you weren’t sure if that was a good idea. 

Lindsey’s eyes softened at your hesitance. It was rare you let your softer, more shy side out in public. She knew you truly cared for Emily, and that you were worried your presence would ruin the night for her. 

You glanced at the railing, picking at the chipping paint. “She deserves to savor your win, not have me and my drama on the front page,” 

“Everything will be fine. Emily is super excited you’re here, and when they get a picture of your jersey, I think that all the preath shit will be in the past” Lindsey said softly, grabbing your hand and tugging you onto the field. 

You hid behind Lindsey as she navigates you through her teammates, intent on making it to the frat daddies who were across the field(who just happened to be standing next to Christen). That was until a very angry Tobin stepped directly into Lindsey’s path. 

“I can’t let you go over there Y/n. It’s over, just let it go,” Tobin said, crossing her arms like a petulant child. 

Lindsey rolled her eyes at the woman, attempting to take a step around her. “Chill Tobs, it’s not a big deal,” Tobin again stepped in your way. You frowned. This was why you didn’t want to come down in the field. 

“I think it’s a really big deal that she’s trying to steal my wife,” Tobin huffed, sniffing slightly. 

“What?” you asked, your eyebrows furrowing. You weren’t here to see Christen at all. You were so busy staring quizzically at the midfielder that you didn’t notice your girlfriend sprinting in your direction until she launched herself into your arms. 

“I’m so glad you decided to come! I wasn’t sure if you’d come,” She mumbled into your neck, and you pulled her closer to you, tilting your head so you could place a kiss on her lips. This moment made everything worth it. 

“You said it was important so I’m here. I’d do anything for you superstar,” You said softly, kissing her cheeks and her forehead, drawing a giggle out of the girl. 

She shoved you lightly, catching you by your jacket collar to pull you back into a kiss. 

“I thought you were an Arsenal fan, not a Chelsea one?” She laughed against your lips, and you pouted. It had been the only jacket in Kelley’s apartment that fit you. You pulled away completely, shrugging out of the offending piece of clothing, revealing your jersey beneath it. 

“I just wanted to hide this until the right moment,” You smirked, ignoring the gasps of the women behind you. (Tobin had been watching dumbfounded from the moment you started hugging Emily, and the large Sonnett on your back had her even more confused. Why were you in Somnett’s jersey if you were trying to win Christen back?)

“God you look good with my name on your back,” Emily smirked, her hands on your hips, pulling you back in for yet another kiss. You smiled against her lips. This hadn’t been your plan, but everything seemed to be coming together. 

“What if it was our name?” You asked, raising your eyebrows at her and tilting your head to the side. She froze, blinking rapidly to process what you were saying. 

You barely registered the “Wait, what?” From behind you, and the slapping sound that followed. You could only assume it was Kelley as she added a “Shut up, she’s been planning this for months,” 

You had been planning this for months. Planning the perfect moment, and it couldn’t have been more perfect than this. You were both winners in your respective fields, and you wanted to be a winner in this too. You had never felt this way about another person. 

 Emily blinked at you again, asking a silent what, and you took that as your cue to continue. “Like, what if Sonnett was my name too, like minus a hyphen?” You shrugged, poking the 14 on her jersey and the matching one on yours before beginning to dig into your pocket. 

“Are you?” She stuttered as you dropped down on one knee, pulling out the ring you had stashed in your pocket. Yeah, this was much better than doing this in some back hallway of the stadium. 

You took a deep breath and looked up into Emily’s eyes, opening the ring box and asking the simple question “Marry me?” 

“Yes,” Emily is on her knees in an instant, cupping your face and kissing you again. She didn’t need a big long speech about how much you loved her (the two albums made your feelings crystal clear), and she loved you too. She couldn’t wait to be your wife. 

“Told you she wasn’t here for you,” Kelley laughed, nudging Tobin and Christen as they gaped at the two of you. How had they not known? 

Christen gulped down her feelings, leaning further into Tobin’s side. You weren’t hers anymore and she was somehow alright with that. 

[serasvictoria]

So this entire thing basically came about because of a silly discussion and that gave me a small idea, but then this morning I got another one so I had to do something with it I guess.

@alexhandersen-marcoilsoe-fandom, @vikingstrash, and @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie, this one’s for you.

Sugar

You weren’t entirely sure when this entire thing had started, but you found it difficult to stop now. You kept coming up with the most ridiculous reasons to go up to Hvitserk and Ivar’s apartment and borrowing stuff from them was as good a reason as any. It had all started with the oldest trick in the book.

“Sugar?”

“Yeah. I ran out.” Hvitserk was having a hard time not laughing out loud at your, quite frankly ridiculous, request. “Do you guys have any?”

“Probably? I’m in charge of the snacks, I don’t buy any of other stuff. That’s Ivar’s job.” He jerked his head in the direction of the kitchen and you followed him. “This may take a while.”

You stood in the doorway as Hvitserk started pulling open all the cabinets and drawers. The way that he kept bending over made it feel like he was giving you a show of kinds and you really didn’t mind that one bit, because Hvitserk always wore the skinniest jeans known to man and they emphasized his long legs and his ass perfectly. You made small mental notes of the things that he pulled out of cabinets so you’d know what to ask for at a later time. Rice, pasta, honey, tea bags… you could keep this ridiculous thing going for ages.

“What the fuck are you doing!” All your attention had been so incredibly focused on Hvitserk’s ass, that you nearly jumped a foot in the air when Ivar suddenly materialised next to you. “Look at this mess!”

“I’ll put it back,” Hvitserk waved a hand in Ivar’s direction and didn’t even bother to look up. “She needs some sugar.”

“What!” Ivar looked at you and then back at Hvitserk again. “And why the hell would we keep the sugar down there?”

“I don’t know, man.” Hvitserk sat down on the floor and smiled at you apologetically. “Do we even have any?”

“Of course we do. We’re not fucking heathens.”

“What’s that got to do with it?”

“Someone might want sugar in their tea.”

“Who?” They’d probably never even had anyone over that drank tea. Beer seemed to be the usual beverage of choice. “So where is it?” Ivar moved into the kitchen, opened the door of one of the top cabinets and pulled out a bag of sugar. “Ah. I was going to look there next.”

“Yeah, sure you were.” Ivar hit Hvitserk’s leg with his crutch and then handed you the bag of sugar. “Bring that back when you’re done.”

“Sure thing. In case anyone wants sugar in their tea.”

Hvitserk snorted with laughter and before Ivar could deliver a scathing reply, you muttered a quick goodbye and got out of there as fast as you could.

“Sugar? What the hell kind of excuse was that?” Hvitserk shrugged and started putting everything that he’d taken out back in again. “You’re doing it wrong, moron!”

You had no idea how many things you had borrowed by now, but after going through almost the entire contents of their kitchen you decided that you needed a new approach.

“DIY?” Hvitserk scratched at his chin as he regarded you curiously. “I know how to use a hammer if that’s what you mean.”

“Good enough for me,” you replied with a smile. “I need to hang a mirror and I’m not allowed to go near hammers anymore.”

“Not allowed?,” he said with a laugh. “You got told off by the DIY police?”

“Something like that. Trust me, you don’t want to know.” He didn’t have to know that you always fixed everything in your apartment yourself. This was just a little white lie to get him into your apartment. “Could you do it for me?”

“Sure. You need me to do it right now?”

“Tomorrow?” You needed time to set your little plan in motion. It would be ruined if he came with you now. “Say, two in the afternoon?”

“I’ll be there.”

He shook his head when you walked away, headed back into the living room and dropped down on the couch.

“What did she want now?”

“DIY.”

“What the hell.” Ivar sighed deeply. “This has been going on for ages. Why don’t you just ask her out already?”

“What? I think it’s cute.” Hvitserk threw a handful of popcorn in Ivar’s direction. “Are you jealous?”

“Why the hell would I be jealous?”

“You know what, why don’t you go round tomorrow and hang that mirror for her.” Ivar was ready to launch into a tirade about how their downstairs neighbour obviously had the hots for Hvitserk, but then his brother used the same line that he’d been using for many years. “Or are you chicken?”

“Fuck off.” Hvitserk started making chicken noises from his sofa until Ivar threw the remote at his head. “Fine! I’ll go! Fucking asshole.”

*****

The idea that you’d had was absolutely fucking genius. It was foolproof.

You’d leave the front door ajar (that was the only part that was slightly risky), Hvitserk would come in, call your name and you’d tell him that you were in the bathroom. He’d walk in, find you completely naked because guess what? You’d run completely out of towels. You would ask for his shirt to dry yourself off with and voila, he’d finally end up in your bed. Surely a guy like Hvitserk would appreciate the effort that you’d put in, right?

You knew he liked you, because he’d started flirting with you from the moment that you’d moved in. His brother, Ivar, was also hot as hell, but he was more difficult to gauge. Hvitserk was easygoing whereas Ivar was standoffish. It hardly mattered now anyway. You’d finally get Hvitserk where you had wanted him for a while, that was the most important thing.

He’d be here at around two. You knew that punctuality wasn’t exactly his thing, so you had taken it into account that he might show up a bit later. Again, it didn’t matter. You’d stuffed all your towels into various clothes drawers to really make it seem like you had just magically run out at the exact moment that he’d shown up. You got out of the shower a little bit before two, just in case Hvitserk was going to be on time, but left the tap on to make it seem like you’d forgotten at what time he was going to show.

A voice called out your name and your heart started beating furiously inside your chest. This was really happening. “I’m in here!” You turned the shower off and swore just loud enough for him to hear. “I’m so sorry! I forgot the time. Just thought I’d have a quick shower.” You pulled the door open, water running down your skin in little rivulets and you put your hand on your forehead to feign stupidity at your current situation. “Can you believe that there aren’t any…” Ivar was standing on the other side of the door, eyes wide and looking you up and down. “...towels left…” For a few seconds, you thought about attempting to cover yourself up with your hands, but it was probably a little bit too late for that now. “Oh fuck.”

“No towels?” He squeaked and then cleared his throat. “How does that even happen?”

“Clumsy?”

“That’s not clumsy, that’s just plain stupid.” You saw his lip curl up as his eyes roamed up and down your body again. “You want me to go back upstairs to get you a towel?”

“What I want is your shirt.” Ivar looked at you with raised eyebrows, not entirely sure what you meant with that. You had somewhat expected that Hvitserk was going to be the one to come to your aid, but Ivar hadn’t exactly run out on you just yet so you just rolled with it. “To dry myself off with.”

Ivar didn’t respond immediately, briefly making you think that this absolutely genius plan had failed completely, but then he took off his shirt in one fluid movement and handed it to you. You had to work really hard to stop your jaw from dislocating when you finally caught sight of his toned chest and used his shirt to cover your face for a few seconds so you could regain your cool. Then you held it in front of your body and gave him a look that you hoped was seductive.

Instead, Ivar took his mobile out of his pocket, aimed the camera at you and took a picture. He tapped on the screen and then you could hear a noise that told you that he had just sent a message. You wanted to ask him what he had just done, but he simply held his finger up to you to silently indicate that you had to wait. About a minute later, you heard a great big crash coming from upstairs followed by loud swearing. You could hear Hvitserk stumbling around in the back of their apartment where his bedroom was which was promptly followed by more swearing.

Ivar turned the screen in your direction with a smirk to show you that he’d just sent a picture of you to his brother and that Hvitserk had sent him back a message that simply read “HOLY SHIT”.

“He’s typing again.”

You moved in close to Ivar so you could look at the screen together and then another message popped onto the screen.

“I am coming downstairs. NOW.”

Ivar put the phone back in his pocket and reached out so he could squeeze your ass. “He was still in bed when I went downstairs so what do you say about us getting started already, hm? To give him something to walk in on?” You giggled and then nodded quickly. “Good girl…”

[fruitcoops]

Can you do one where it turns out greyback injuring Remus way back years ago was actually caught on camera and that video of young remus getting his shoulder ripped is like released at a hockey game on the screen or maybe just put online and everyone sees what happens Omg please I'm begging you to do this!!! ILYYY

Hello anon! This is a really interesting idea and I’ve been thinking about it for a while--the NHL doesn’t allow security cameras in locker rooms, but I assumed there would be audio somewhere from one nearby. People who leak ~scandalous information~ on the internet are literally the worst.

Sweater Weather credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW for graphic descriptions of injury (mostly the sounds)

“How did this happen?” Remus asked, wincing internally at the tremor in his voice. He was shaking from head to toe; it was a miracle he hadn’t started screaming yet. Then again, he wasn’t sure that he would be able to stop. “How the hell did this happen?”

“We don’t know,” Alice said quietly in the chair across from him. “This information was confidential and we haven’t even presented it to the NHL board for review. Someone must have leaked it to the press.”

“Why does this keep happening to me? First Sirius, and now—” He pressed his lips together as his voice cracked. There were a few beats of silence. “Why did you call me in here? I already saw it on the internet.”

“We need you to confirm it was you and Fenrir.” Alice looked him in the eyes. “If you don’t think you can listen to this, Remus, that’s okay, but it will help us build a stronger case to get him punished.”

He took a deep breath. “Can—can Sirius come and sit with me for it?”

“Of course.” She stood and left the room, leaving him alone with the coach.

“You’ve listened to it, haven’t you.”

Arthur nodded. “I’m so sorry, Remus.”

“I don’t need you to be sorry, I need people to not look at me like some sob story.” Bitter fury rose in his throat, though he wasn’t angry with Arthur. “I worked hard to get there and even harder to come back. I’m done dwelling on the past. This is going to undo everything and I’m sick of it.”

“Did the team know?”

“I told some of them when Sirius was at All-Stars.” Remus knew Arthur remembered the fight; he had chewed Sirius out for it as soon as practices resumed. “Didn’t tell my parents, though.”

Arthur closed his eyes and let out a long breath. The door clicked open behind him. “Re?”

“Hey, baby.” Instant relief washed over Remus, though he still felt like he would lose it at any moment.

Sirius settled into the chair next to him and held out his hand—Remus took it immediately, scooting their chairs closer together so their shoulders touched. “Are you ready?” Alice asked, picking up a remote. Remus nodded.

The video was grainy, but the audio was pristine. A few voices—familiar voices, I remember them clear as day—jumbled together as the last members of the team filtered out of the locker room. “See you tomorrow, Moony!” one called over his shoulder. “Great game!”

“Bye, Tags!” Remus said from inside. Did I really sound that young?

The hallway outside the locker room was empty; he heard himself shifting around inside as he stretched out. Left thigh, right thigh, left calf, right calf, reach and roll. “Hey, Lupin.” Fenrir’s gravelly voice made him freeze and Sirius rested his other hand on top of theirs.

“Sup, Backer.” A light smack signaled their fistbump. “That was a beautiful goal you had at the end of the third, by the way. The scouts definitely saw.”

“They certainly did. Are your folks here tonight?”

“Yeah, Jules was so excited. He’s been bouncing off the walls for the past couple days.” The unbridled fondness in his younger voice was a balm. Jules had been convinced that he would be drafted to the NHL right after that game.

“They’re saying you’ll be number one.”

“Really?” Young Remus laughed. “I dunno, man, there are a lot of players this year. You and me are neck and neck, right?”

Dumbass! he wanted to shout. Just shut up for once! “Neck and neck,” Fenrir muttered, barely loud enough for the camera to pick up. “Hey, do you need a hand with your stretches?”

“Sure, thanks. Might have a bruise from your pads tomorrow, eh?” The friendly joke made him wince. More shuffling noises followed. The hall stayed empty.

“Here?” Fenrir asked. There was a dangerous edge to his voice and Remus swallowed around the sudden dryness of his mouth.

“Yeah, that’s—okay, that’s actually a bit too far, can you let up a bit? Fenrir, you’re pulling too hard.” Panic seeped in. “Fenrir, stop, you’re hurting me—”

There was a horrible cracking noise and younger Remus’ strangled shout cut off abruptly as his shoulder came out of the socket. He squeezed his eyes shut and gripped Sirius’ hand. If he focused, he could still feel Fenrir’s fingers pressing his face into the mats.

“‘Look at me, I’m Remus Lupin, I’m the fastest player on the ice and I’ll be number one’,” Fenrir mimicked as Remus’ agonized whines continued. “You think you’re so clever. So perfect. You’ve never had to work a day in your life. I’m the best player out there and the scouts are fucking idiots if they think you’re better.”

A muffled wail ended with a gasp and a series of pops. “Please—”

“Shut the fuck up,” Fenrir growled. “Look at you now, crying like a girl. You’re never going to tell anybody about this, because I know your secret.” Remus’ breath shuddered. “Oh, yeah, I know all about you. If you even think about tattling, everyone is going to know.”

“Ple—ah.” Sirius’ grip tightened around his fingers as Remus’ sharp cry caught in his chest. The green-tinted video fuzzed out for a moment, but still nobody walked past. Fenrir had planned this well.

“You’re nothing now, Lupin. You are damaged goods and you’ll never set foot on the ice again.” His voice lowered. “If you do, I’ll find you.”

There was a thud as he finally released Remus’ arm and quiet, wheezing sobs filled the silence. “What did you do to me? Oh my god, oh my god, it hurts so much, what the hell did you do?”

Remus tasted something salty on the edge of his lips and pressed his thumb against Sirius’ ring. This was real. This was his. Sirius loved him. The team loved him.

“I did what I had to do. Say hi to Jules for me.”

The locker room door opened a few seconds later and Fenrir walked out, flexing his hand. With the open door, Remus’ hoarse weeping was clearer as he was left alone on the floor. The video ended.

“Remus.” Alice held out a box of tissues, her voice gentle as the screen went dark. He reached out for one, but his hand was shaking too bad to grab it; Sirius took one and carefully wiped his cheeks dry with feather-light touches.

“That was him,” Remus managed around the boulder in his throat. “That was Fenrir Greyback, and that was me.”

“Would you be able to swear it in court?”

“What the fuck do you think?” Remus snarled. Sirius ran his thumb over his knuckles. “Do you want to see the scars on my shoulder, too? What reason do I have to lie?”

“I meant are you prepared to talk about this in front of people?” Alice rephrased, calm and collected as ever. “This is a traumatic event and I don’t want to force you into anything.”

“Remus, you’re a valued player on the team,” Arthur said. “I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure you’re safe in this league.”

“Don’t look at me differently. Now that you know this, now that everyone knows, people will treat me like I’m fragile. I’m the same person I was two days ago and this will not change how I play.”

“I know.” Arthur folded his hands on the desk. “You’re a fighter, Loops. That’s one of the reasons I wanted you on my team.”

“Do you two need a moment before you head back out?” Alice asked, glancing between him and Sirius. “We’re going to kick the reporters out and then everyone’s going to go home for the day while we talk to the board.”

“We do, yeah.” Remus’ voice wavered and coach stood, following Alice into the hall.

“Oh, mon loup,” Sirius murmured, standing and pulling him into a hug. A kiss pressed against the top of his head and Remus grabbed the back of his soft shirt like it was the only thing holding him steady. “I am so sorry.”

“You already knew.”

“No, I didn’t. You told me, but—” Sirius faltered. “I had no idea how bad it was. The things he said to you…”

“Were wrong.” Remus finished. He had spent so many long nights and dark days convincing himself of that.

“They were wrong. You are not damaged goods,” Sirius said fiercely, pulling back to hold his face in his hands. His eyes were fiery. “Listen to me, Remus. You are not damaged. You are everything to me and I love you for exactly who you are.”

“I love you, too.” Remus’ lower lip wobbled and he rested his forehead on Sirius’ chest again. “Hearing it—I already knew what happened, but hearing it was horrible.”

“It was.”

“I’m sorry I made you listen with me.”

“Don’t be sorry, mon amour. I’m with you through the good, the bad, and everything else. I’m glad I was with you for this.”

“The team…” He trailed off and sighed. “I don’t want them to see that. My folks, too.”

“I think they already have,” Sirius admitted. “But they love you so much and they’ll be here for whatever you need.”

“We have to go sometime.” He took a deep breath and stepped back, rubbing his eyes and kissing Sirius quickly. “Alright, let’s go.”

They made it four steps down the hall before James appeared and engulfed Remus in a hug. “Holy shit, I’m so angry,” he choked out on a harsh breath. “I love you, man.”

“Love you too, J. Where’s everyone else?”

“Inside. I called dibs on first hug.”

“Have they all seen it?”

“Some of it. I don’t know if anyone watched it all the way through.” He sniffled and squeezed Remus tighter. “I don’t know how you came back from that.”

“PT helped.” He closed his eyes and leaned into James. “So did you guys. I couldn’t have made it this far without you.”

“Neither could we.” James pulled back. “Do you want to see them or are you heading out?”

“Heading h—”

“I want to see them,” Remus interrupted quietly. Sirius raised his eyebrows. “It’s going to happen sometime. Might as well be now.”

James nodded and walked over to the locker room door. “Ready?”

Remus laced his fingers with Sirius’. “Let’s do it.”

[guessimwritingficsagain]

Delightful, chapter six (the final one)

Warnings : NSFW so +18

Author’s note : So, this is the end. Thank you all so much for reading and for the feedback. I had no idea where I was going with this but I have to say this : you and your reactions - on this fic and others -made me realize what it was that I wanted to talk about and it's helped me with projects of my own. That doesn't mean that I'm leaving, though. I'm a sucker for pining and yearning. I'll keep giving that to you. But, once again, thank you : I think fan fictions are very important, and they shaped me as a writer, so to whomever read this : if you're just a reader, thanks for reading, thanks for taking your time to connect with me, and thank you for your passion. If you're also a writer : thank you all the same, and good luck with your writing. You are legit. Your writings matter. You matter. All of you matter. Thank you.

------

Javier stilled for a second to look at you. You whined :

‘I swear, if you stop…’

He chuckled, and put his mouth to work again. You were on your couch, his head between your thighs. You’d wanted to go to the bedroom but apparently Javier found it poetic to eat you out on the couch he’d spent so many nights on. You didn’t care about poetry much, not at the moment, but you indulged him. So here you were, still dressed except for your panties, sitting on your couch, Javier Peña kneeling on the floor, doing the Lord’s work because there was no way something that felt so good wasn’t holy. Except he was taking his sweet time, and you needed more. You bucked your hips to meet his face but he held you down, whispering against your cunt :

‘I got you, just enjoy.’

You were enjoying the moment, but Javier kept driving you to the edge and then he would just stop, kiss you, work you up again and then repeat the whole thing. You were going crazy with the need to come.

‘I swear, babe’ He mumbled as his nose teased your clit, one of his fingers pulling at the hair there, ‘it’s gonna be worth it in the end.’

You were about to quip back it didn’t seem worth it right now, but his mouth went back to work you found it was worth it. Not that you’d say it out loud. The way you grabbed tough, was enough for him to understand, your fingers clutching at his shoulders so much it hurt. He worked you through it, his moustache mingled with the hair between your legs.

When his face found yours again, you tasted yourself on his tongue, and licked his moustache for good measure, up until he proposed :

‘Drink ?’

You were dumfounded for a second, and admitted :

‘Well, I was thinking bed.’

He shook his head.

‘We have time, right ?’

He got you some wine, a bottle of whisky for him - you didn’t even feel ashamed when he found his bottle waiting for him, because you never threw it away. He laid down on the couch and motioned you to come closer. You obliged. You could feel his chest rising with every breath, and how hard he was against you. Before you could do anything, though, his fingers sneaked in between your legs again and you found yourself rocking against him, helpless as he drove you to your third orgasm tonight.

You hadn’t even come down completely when you turned around, fumbled with his belt, set him free and impaled yourself on him. You wanted to see him come, but he had the same idea about you, and made you come for the fourth time that night before he finally got his release. By the time you were done, you felt like you could never get up again.

Javier brought you close to him, and held you.

‘I knew you had it in you, babe.’

You punched his shoulder playfully.

———

Javier never laughed.

He chuckled, yes, but you’d never seen him goof around, or have a full-belly laughter, something ripped out of him and wild. So when he did, for the first time, you couldn’t do anything but stare at him. Hard.

He was beautiful, you thought, the joke you’d just said completely forgotten. It was so easy to lose yourself in him that it scared you, sometimes. He leaned in and pressed a sloppy kiss on your cheek, still chuckling against your skin and it hit you like a train, at that moment, how much you loved him and longed for him every second of your existence.

You were scared. Scared of everything. Of getting a call telling you he was dead. Scared you were still one of many women he was seeing - yeah, you hadn’t had that conversation yet, even though it’d been a few weeks since that night at the bar. You were scared of how much that man meant to you.

You were trying very hard not to let it show, but, as if he could read your mind, his mouth traveled down your neck as he whispered, his words unexpected but not unwelcome :

‘Do you know how much I dreamt of that ? You and me just hanging out, just like that, and me kissing you whenever the fuck I wanted ?’

You squeezed his thigh and he sighed in your neck, his breath so warm on your sensitive skin. There was a beat of silence, then, until :

‘I flirted with a woman, for work.’

The admission was whispered, barely there, but you fet his body go tense. Despite all of your fears, you couldn’t help to go back to the old you, the one who thought she didn’t give a damn about all that and you teased :

‘And how did that work out for you ?’

‘Bad.’ He mouthed on your neck. ‘She thinks I’m an asshole.’

‘Is she pretty ?’ You asked, something teasing in your voice, even though your mind was wondering how long this woman would resist him.

‘Very. Very in love with her husband, too.’

‘You hit on a married woman ?’ You answered, your hand slapping his arm in a playful manner.

‘Yeah, the job. You know …’

Your heart did something weird, at that, because, yes, you knew. But you didn’t want to know. As clueless as you were to the inner workings of the DEA, you were pretty sure the flirting and the fucking were not mandatory.

‘Don’t hide behind the job, Peña, we both know you hit on every woman you meet.’ You corrected him.

He chuckled and quipped back :

‘Didn’t hit on you when I met you.’

The truth of his statement gave you pause.

‘Why not ?’

The ache in your chest grew at his silence. He detached his mouth from your neck and his eyes found yours.

‘I wanted you to like me.’

One of his hands found the inside of your thighs and squeezed. Whatever answer you’d had on the tip of your tongue vanished. You wanted him. You wanted that man so much. So much, so much that you’d wait.

And wait you did, waiting like a puppet left unused, worthless - the rational part of your brain kept reminding you you couldn’t do anything because this wasn’t your world, this wasn’t your life, and this wasn’t your fight.

Up until it was all over and Javier Peña was free, the burden not lifted from his shoulders but removed by himself. He was tired, and ready to go home. You didn’t know where that was, up until one evening, he laid down on your thighs as one of his hands lifted your shirt and he pressed a kiss on your belly, at random, the gesture not even remotely sexual but very intimate.

‘What about we visit my dad, and then your parents ? And then maybe they could all meet. That’s gonna be awkward. And then, we see.’

He was mumbling against the skin of your belly, his eyes avoiding yours. You sunk your fingers into his hair and whispered back :

‘That would be delightful.’

------

Taglist

@pedritobalmando @amidjarin @ajeff855 @justpedropascal @sara-alonso @sarahjkl82-blog @amidjarin @sara-alonso @justpedropasc @mrsbentallmadge @farfromjustordinary

[glowinggator]

Chicago Lightning

Summary: You and the rest of the Mud Dogs plan a heist on a bank, and end up getting into a pretty serious gun fight. It’s way different from what you usually attempt, but where there’s a will, there’s a way. 

[A/N: Good evening, fellow Mud Dogs enjoyers <3 These three live in my head rent FREE and by god, I’m gonna make that everyone else’s problem.]

Content Warnings: Gunfights, mild arson, copious swearing, crime, and the fear of death. Nobody dies, and there’s a happy ending. <3

Pairing: Mud Dogs/Reader (Platonic/Familial) 

Word Count: 1572

God, your ears are gonna be fucking ringing tomorrow. Whoever suggested staging a robbery is certainly going to get a verbal beating, if you even make it out of here in the first place. The deafening “crack” of a bullet tearing by instinctively pushes you further into the white, porcelain countertop, and you blindly fire a few rounds from behind cover. Your ears ring at the noise, and your legs ache dully from crouching down for so long. 

“What’s the plan?” You yell, glancing nervously towards the pillar where Leonard’s taking cover. 

“I don’t know!” he yells back, “Give me a minute to think!” He taps his fingers against the muzzle of the glock, eyes glancing around the building. Dust from ricocheting bullets clouds the air, sending pits of granite and porcelain dust through the room. The light filters through them, although just barely so. You hardly even recognize the building anymore, you think to yourself. Leonard fires a few shots from behind the pillar before taking cover once more, looking up at the ceiling with furrowed brows. 

“Hate to burst your bubble, Loathsome,” Danny yells from your left, “But we’re already a bit behind the eight ball here. We don’t have time to spare!” 

“Yeah, no shit!” Mickey yells, “And I’m not really in my element, either.” He fires off a couple shots, and the recoil from the gun is obvious despite his white-knuckle grip on the firearm. He scowls, turning to fire off a few more shots from the other side of the counter. What he lacks in experience he makes up for in pure gusto.

“Easy on the lightning, pal!” Danny calls, “we ain’t exactly armed to the teeth, here. If we run out of ammo, we’re screwed!” 

“I’ve got it!” Leonard yells to you, “Grab those bottles of hand sanitizer off the counter and throw ‘em to Mickey. We’re gonna light it on fire, throw it at ‘em, and bolt for the back.” 

“Then what?” You say, grabbing the bottles and throwing them to your friend. 

“Steal a fucking car, I guess? What else?” 

“Sounds good to me!” Mickey calls. His eyes light up as he disassembles the bottles, twisting and turning a few paper bills to create a sizable fuse that leads out of the liquid disinfectant, like the true firebug he is. If they land just right, it should spread quickly enough to get out of control. If they land perfectly, that is. But you’re not gonna have time to tell, are you? You just have to pray that it does, and if it doesn’t, that it burns hot enough to stall them. Oh, how you’re lamenting skipping out on that oxidation unit in chemistry class.  

“Just tell me when!” He shouts, although you can barely hear him over the crack of yet another bullet flying by, a little too close for comfort. 

You look back towards the emergency exit, steeling yourself to run. The bright red sign flickers slowly, just barely clinging to life after being struck with a stray bullet. You tear your eyes away from the door, glancing at your friends nervously. The air between all of you isn’t peaceful: not by any means. But it’s full of understanding: An understanding that if there’s any real, perfect way to go out, it would be right here. Danny’s grip tightens on his gun, and the tip of his tail twitches slightly, as though he were fighting the sensation entirely. Leonard’s eyes flit around the room quickly, scowling down the opposition on the other side of the building. Yet when he turns to the rest of you, his eyebrows soften. And Mickey’s apprehension… God, he’s doing a great job of hiding it. He smiles brightly, but the look in his eyes clearly conveys his thoughts. His fingers twitch around the plastic bottle, peeling at the wrapper as though looking for something to tether him to the world. The pops of your enemy’s guns might as well be static, for all you care. 

But it’s the chipping of porcelain, the crack of a supersonic bullet whizzing past you, and the pop of yet another gun that brings you out of your stupor. The corner of the porcelain countertop chips off and falls to your feet, and you can feel your heart leap into your chest. Had you been leaning out any farther, you’d be dead. Your breath catches in your throat, and you throw yourself deeper into cover. You whip your head around to Leonard, steeling your nerves and throwing him a firm nod. 

“On three!” He shouts. 

“One!”

Inhale. You’re all gonna be okay. 

“Two!” 

Exhale. You shoot one last look at your friends and set your eyes on the door.

“Three!” 

Mickey shocks the flammable paper leading out of the bottle and chucks it towards the entrance of the building the moment it forms a strong and steady flame. And for a moment, the world moves in slow motion. It arcs wildly, but the flame persists nonetheless, crawling its way into the bottle. It hits the ground with a thunk - much less grand than your traditional molotov, you remark sarcastically - and splatters. The flame jumps from puddle to puddle, quickly spreading out of control. The rest of the containers are thrown haphazardly, which only fuels the intense and wild flames: it eats at the carpet, the walls, anywhere it can reach. And with that, all four of you bolt towards the exit. 

Your feet pound against the carpet, and you’re the first to reach the door. You ram your shoulder against the bar, opening it quickly for everyone to follow out. You bolt for the nearest car, looking back once to make sure everyone’s made it out. And sure enough, they have. The nearest car is an old four-door, and you pray to every deity you can think of as you race towards it. You shoot at the passenger side window, shattering the glass almost instantly, and you throw your hand through the jagged pieces to unlock the car as quickly as possible. You throw open the car door, ripping off your jacket and throwing it over the broken glass on the seat before patting around the car for a spare key. You don’t have any fucking time to hotwire the damn thing, and who the fuck knows what year this thing is from? 

You breathe a sigh of relief when you find it and clamber into the car, jamming the jagged end of the key into the ignition and smiling as the car roars to life. Danny is the second to reach the car, sliding over the hood to hop in the passenger side. Mickey is the third, as Leonard runs behind him, providing covering fire for the smaller man. You reach behind your seat, pulling up the lock for him to tear open the door. And with that, Leonard runs the final few feet to the car, throwing himself in the door that’s already open and sliding in next to Mickey. You don’t waste a second, throwing the car into reverse before speeding out of the lot. 

The force throws you harshly back into your seat, but you can’t help but laugh. “We made it out! Holy shit!” You put the pedal to the metal, gripping the steering wheel tightly as you floor it down the street. The buildings zip by so fast that they’re hardly more than a blur, and you revel in the adrenaline rush. The boys laugh alongside you, still reeling from their escape. You swerve off the small street and onto the highway; hopefully, you’ll be able to turn off onto the countryside at some point and find a remote place to lie low while the heat dies down. A farmhouse would be nice, you hum to yourself, although who really knows where you’ll end up this time? 

Mickey leans forward through the armrest. “Dude,” he laughs, “that was the coolest shit ever!” 

“We almost died,” Danny chuckles, dragging his hand along the armrest, flicking off little pieces of glass as he goes, “But I have to admit... it was pretty incredible.” 

“See? I told you guys I had it all figured out,” Leonard says, “And look at all this fucking cash! Even after Big Mama’s cut, we’re still gonna be rich.” 

“And did you see how quickly that fire spread? You might as well have doused the damn building in Everclear!” Mickey laughs, “Something tells me that place won’t be there tomorrow.” 

The highway is practically abandoned, perhaps because of the recent events. And for that, you’re thankful. You’re sure that in a few minutes you’ll be chased down by those blue and red lights, but for now, everything is okay. You press the pedal down as far as you can, making as much distance as possible before the chase starts up once more, and you chuckle. Danny rests his arm on the window, picking up little pieces of shattered glass off of his seat and throwing it out onto the highway. That’ll be someone else’s problem then, you think to yourself. He meets your gaze with a smile, and you return it happily. Mickey and Leonard shove each other playfully in the back seat as they rifle through the duffle bags, presumably counting your earnings. 

“So,” you muse, “how many days do you think it’ll take before we can go to a restaurant without getting arrested?”

[bangtanlalaland]

a dose of relief | ksj (m.)

synopsis ⇣ the CDC’s hottest scientist so happens to be your lab partner. how much longer will it take until he has you begging for him?

— health scientist!au

⇢pairing: CDC health scientist!kim seokjin x female reader

⇢genre: crack, pwp, smut

⇢word count: 5.7k

⇢contents ⨯ warnings: so sorry for this filthy porn with no plot, I’m also horrible @ science (even though it’s one of my fave subjects in school) so plz forgive me if I said something wrong or certain facts are incorrect, I tried to not use so many details/specifics on the science ooey gooey stuff in case that could trigger anything amongst readers, srsly tho somebody call the fanfic writing police, omg, there’s so much tension lolol, Jin is a dom in this OMFG, masturbation, mentions of an outbreak (oops sorry), lab sex (yes, I really went there plz don’t judge me [I know I’m a dirty hoe]), semi-public sex? (not really, but almost) use of sex toys, hair pulling, spitting, face/ass/pussy slapping & licking (oop), unprotected sex (lolol the irony; STAY SAFE!), orgasms (duh), creampie, degradation, so much name calling (holy fuck), JIN HAS A BIG DICK OK (BECAUSE WE LOVE BIG DICKS RIGHT?!)

a/n: honestly I find it so hard to write for Jin & IDK WHYYY. so I couldn’t pass up this opportunity to let the light shine on him for this one. besides, Jin would make the PERFECT hOTTesT SCIENTIST. because WHY NOT?!?! oh & let this fic just be a reminder for those of you out there (you know who I’m talking about): WEAR A GODDAMN MASK.

Seokjin Kim.

The name of the most handsome man in the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, and yet you cannot spend a minute around him without perspiring. Because, well, you’re convinced he just has that affect on everyone. When in reality, it’s really only you. You sweat bullets being around him.

And he knows this. Which is why he’s near you again, looking just as sexy as he did the day before, attired in his white, lab coat — his blonde tresses clouding your vision as he wanders through the lab. You internally curse the universe for having made you both cross paths. You’d often speculate why he’s working here as a scientist. Shouldn’t he be somewhere on the front cover of like GQ Magazine or something? But no, for whatever reason, in this fucked up world we live in, he’s currently in the lab with you, performing test results, by using various liquid solutions.

“Ah, I can’t wait to finally clock out tonight.” Seokjin states while flicking a test tube that remains between his glove-covered fingers, gently placing the blood sample along with other tubes in the tray to be put away in the cooler.

“Hot date I’m assuming?” You question with a secret hint of jealousy oozing from your words — observing a sample through the microscope, turning the knobs to adjust the coarse and fine focus.

Jin beams at your assumption, shaking his head, “Ah. Nice one. But no.”

Your gaze flies up to his towering figure, raising your eyebrows, “So what is it?” You try not to get too lost into staring at his plump, pink lips. He almost catches you eyeing him and you instantly look away, darting your vision back into the microscope.

“I have the whole weekend off,” He coos with a giddy expression, and you internally scoff. That fucker.

You shake your head, “Sounds great!” No, it doesn’t sound great. Because he’s probably happy that he gets to be off so he can be with someone- Wait, no. He’s clearly not going on a date. Duh, he just told you that. Okay, now you’re really just fishing for something, but you’re also jealous of him that he’s off the entire weekend. These past few months have been hell, courtesy of a recent outbreak — every official, scientist, representative and whomever in the CDC is currently working day and night, non-stop to formulate a vaccine. Therefore you shuck away your feels, because you know Jin has more seniority than you within the company. You’d only just been transferred to his department right before the outbreak had occurred.

“Some well needed rest, huh?” You question, an attempt to keep the conversation going while also being the nosey old woman you are deep down inside. “You need it,” You unconsciously continue, somewhat too occupied in ensuring the proper amount of the sodium hypochlorite solution drops are added, squeezing the pipette carefully.

Jin nods his head in agreement, “Oh yeah,” he sighs, “Could definitely use what I call the Four S’s.” Your eyebrows furrow, more-so at concentrating on your accuracy.

But you hear him, and once the final drop of solution has been added, you pull away from the microscope, discarding the pipette in the proper disposal bin. “Four S’s?” You ask, with a tilt of your head.

“Mmhmm,” Jin seats himself on the stool in front of you, placing his hand under his chin. “Soup, soju, sex, and sleep.”

You nearly topple over when trying to seat yourself, and he doesn’t miss your clumsiness either. He thought it was cute how flustered you suddenly became, and he knew why you had. The word sex having stood out amongst the others he’d mentioned. You’re smoking under his gaze, a sudden wave of heat flashing over you within the blink of an eye. Ugh, how you hate the way he does this to you. Whatever this is. With a flicker of his eyebrows, a coy grin creeps upon his face. And you nervously swallow a gulp, easing the parched feeling in the back of your throat.

Awkwardly, you clear your throat, “Sounds like one hell of a weekend.” He continues his smirk at you, and at this point you grow slightly annoyed. Oh, his stupid hot face. Why does he keep staring like that?

“What?” You deadpan.

With a suck of his teeth, he pushes himself off the stool and stands up on his two feet, “Don’t miss me too much while I’m gone,” he coos with a wink. Yes, the fucker actually winked! You had to double check within your mind that you’re fully conscious because you couldn’t believe he did that. Jin doesn’t flirt with you, like ever. And you know that even he knows this, that grin still plastered upon his face. How the hell does he do it? Do this to you?

The sound of the door clicking signals his departure, to what you only assumed he was going on his lunch break. But the real question is, does he know? He must know that you are attracted to him, otherwise he wouldn’t have insinuated you’d “miss” him. Fuck. You’re screwed and you know it. Unfortunately not in the way you’d like to be screwed.

—

The weekend didn’t fly by like a breeze as it normally would, but instead dragged. You thought at one point the time may have just frozen, but subconsciously you knew that wasn’t even remotely possible. Although, you’re convinced that the reason for it all is because Seokjin wasn’t there. Normally, you’d both share the same shifts on weekends and everything felt in tune. You’d complete tests, run samples, and literally anything else under the sun together. But the time felt different when with him, and you’re beyond relieved to find that the end of your shift approaches. You both say your farewells and do it all over again the next day. It became a routine, really, one that you’d grown accustomed to.

However, since his weekend off, you felt something change, and you didn’t like it. You noticed since the start of your shifts, he permeated an odd vibe. Jin wasn’t making eye contact with you, and hell he didn’t greet you when he clocked in. Even when you’d discussed to your boss that after copious amounts of research and tests, the sodium hypochlorite solution kills various diseases and viruses, including HIV/AIDS, although said concoction is overly toxic for ingestion.

Seokjin never spoke or added anything from his research to back up your claim, which was completely degrading to you, because well… teamwork — he made you feel as though the countless amount of hours you’d both spent in the lab together was a waste. So yes, it was strange. He was acting strange, and you didn’t know whether to be gloomy or pissed about it all. After the meeting with the board, discussing the current problems with hygiene and public health, you returned to your station with Jin. You decide to test the waters and break the awkward silence since he wouldn’t.

You clear your throat in an attempt to draw his attention, but fail, his back still turned to you, “How was your weekend?”

He continues his work, not even flinching when you’d suddenly spoke. He replies so fast you were convinced he just knew exactly what you were going to say and simply waited for you to do so.

“Great,” he retorts with a nonchalant tone. You hear a few snap-like sounds and immediately note that he’s placing his gloves on. He brushes past you and into the cooler, removing a tray of blood samples to set them down onto the counter. You bite back a remark and instead try again.

“Had any good soup?” You internally cringe at yourself for saying something so stupid, but you can’t help but be the curious cat you are. Then his silence doesn’t make it any better. Here you are again, “Or at least some proper rest?”

His eyes finally meet yours, and you can’t quite read his pokerface. “I did,” He adds with still the most blank expression you’d known him to make. His gaze drops back toward the test tubes he’s busied himself with.

You continue to probe him, even though your insides scream otherwise, “Couldn’t have forgotten about the soju too, right?” You question, a tone laced with curiosity. He makes a simple “mmhmm” sound, clearly understanding where you’re going with this. A brief moment of silence subsides between the both of you, and for a moment you appreciated it but another side of you just had to know. Your essence ached for an answer, even though if said answer wasn’t one you’d want to hear, you still had to know. And you swear the phrase, “Curiosity kills the cat” could explain this moment in time.

“W-what about….” You trail off, in hopes he’d catch on. His eyes meet yours, and you can’t help but want to shribble up under his stare — whilst his defined lids peer into you, as if cascading into your soul.

“What about what?” Jin knows the next question you want to ask, and part of him wishes you’ll just ask already. He needs your inquiry of his sexcapades, because truth be told, he has none; and he’s on the brink of bending you over on this counter and fucking you senselessly — a burning ache, desperate to release his pent up frustration, mixed with the daily stresses that come along with work. His eyes linger onto your facial features, searching for a warning that you’d finally cave in, that by some miracle you’d admit you want him in just as a lustful manner as he wants you. Needs you. His weekend having been a long, cold, and lonely one. He’d desperately yearned for a woman’s touch, a dry spell long overdue.

He notes how your lips part and eyes widen, as if you’re stuck like a deer in headlights and don’t know how to simply let the words flow from your tongue. His pink, plush lips catch your attention, his bottom lip protruding in a manner that’s tempting for you to simply lick the flesh — the need to graze your teeth along the tissue clouding your mind. You suck in a quiet gasp, but audible enough for Jin to hear you. The sudden twitch of his member down below, the visual of having you whimper underneath him having flashed through his imagination. You instinctively obscure any second thoughts of your actions, because if he didn’t want you to know then why would he have mentioned the “Four S’s?” It’s like he’s calling your name, indirectly. Seokjin knows how curious you’ve always been, and it’d be silly to not know such a fact. After all, you’re a scientist that works for the CDC.

The more dense part of you spills, “Well, you know-” His eyebrow quirks up at you, as if not falling for your little trap. No, he wants to hear you say it, he wants those words coming out of you and streaming to his eardrums.

That familiar hum he has a habit of making slips from him, “Hm- No, I don’t.

He proceeds to his previous endeavors, scouring through the cabinets for some tools. You stand there dumbfoundedly, and cursing your own self for not having the courage to just speak your mind. Seokjin marvels at your conflicted expression, thanking his own self for not giving in so easily — because he wants to confirm his assumptions and needs you to make that move. He definitely didn’t want to be the first to impose, just in case you were to reject him and immediately perform some type of backlash technique. The last thing he needed was to lose his job and/or face a lawsuit for harassment. He ignores your stiff figure and gracefully mixes various liquids into a beaker. Your fingers tap along the counter and mind races hundreds of miles per hour. Just do it.

“Sex,” You whisper. His stirring stops suddenly and eyes move to yours with a slight tilt of his head. “Did you… Have sex?” You add, voice barely above a whisper. Jin sighs in relief, as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders — the air now somewhat less stuffy, and he chooses to stifle back a moan of satisfaction at your question. And within an instant, he scoffs, sending a rush of discouragement over your being.

He shakes his head while a sly grin paints upon his face, “Wouldn’t you like to know, hm?” You roll your eyes at him, can’t even believe the audacity. Of course, you should have known he’d be comical about it. Because that’s what Jin does, which makes you question how he’d even passed the entire hiring process to be promised and given this position.

With a slight pull of your strands out of frustration, you retort, “What the hell, Jin? You were the first one to mention “the Four S’s” You make sure to exaggerate air quotation marks on the phrase.

“And now you’re acting like you can’t even say if you’ve gotten some over the weekend. What am I not allowed to ask you questions anymore?!” Seokjin stares at you with wide eyes, immediately making you feel guilty for your sudden outburst. But what was he to expect? How could he not think you’d be curious of how his weekend ended after revealing to you his much needed desires. You palm your face in embarrassment, not wanting to meet his gaze any longer. And that’s when he removes his gloves, discarding them in the designated bin, and the feel of his palms encase around yours, pulling you from your hidden position to reveal your face that’s now strained with a painful look.

“If it makes you feel any better… I haven’t had sex.” His sweet voice oozes of comfort, granting a sense of calmness to reside within you.

“It’s been so long, and I am actually going to lose my mind if I don’t soon enough.” His confession causes you to gasp lowly, and he notices this. You hadn’t realized he was still holding your hands, his fingers long and cold, rubbing light circles within your palms. You know that he’s telling the truth; his eyes screaming for attention. Jin is desperate, and you sense that, which would explain why he’d been so tense ever since showing up to work today. You take this chance to take in every feature he has to offer. His broad shoulders aiding to tower his figure above yours just as he constrains his neck slightly to glare into your eyes. Your mouth flies agape just by an inch, and you hadn’t realized how close Jin was to you. You could feel the warmth of his breathing from his nostrils hitting you like the heat boiling down below.

You had a dire need to just smash your lips with his to finally know what the pillow-y tissue feels like between your own. His deep, chocolate irises reeling you in and suddenly your hand clenches tight underneath his touch. He notices and releases his grip from you, not realizing he’d been holding you this entire time.

And then you break the ice suddenly, “I think you should get that taken cared of soon.” Jin watches your form whilst you depart yourself from the room. Entering the main hall, you hadn’t processed how warm the atmosphere in the lab had been — a thin sheen of sweat coating your face and neck, courtesy of Seokjin Kim.

—

And then things got weirder.

There was this unspeakable tension between the two of you. You hardly made much eye contact with him at work now. You trained yourself (somewhat) to not ask so many questions during your shifts together, and if Jin noticed this then he definitely didn’t show or tell that he did. You’d find yourself going home at the end of the day and pulling out your favorite vibrator just to orgasm at the thought of Seokjin and his rosy, juicy lips, slender fingers that you know could reach the highest of places; those silky, light, blonde strands that long for you to tug on them as he buries himself in between your legs. However, Jin does the same, even on that weekend when he was off. He coated himself in lubricant and acquired his pocket pussy to stuff his thick length through the silicone material, imagining that it was your walls encasing around his cock instead.

Bucking his hips upwards, wanton moans spilled from him whilst he continued to ride out the waves of pleasure he’d endured just by dreaming of you. He continuously re-played the sight of your face over and over again in his mind, when you’d looked up at him that day in the lab — with glossy, bright eyes twinkling of curiosity. He wanted right then and there to shove himself down your throat and make you choke on his big dick. At the moment his groin tensed up and balls ached to release his load, he moaned your name repeatedly, as if he was summoning you into his bed. Streams of his cum erupted into the sleeve, soaking his length with the creamy substance just as he huffed for air, an attempt to gain back his normal breathing pattern.

And then the next day…

He did it again.

But this time it was different. He opted for his palm instead and your voice. He scrambled through anything in his phone that could get him off, more like anything of you in his phone. Until it dawned on him. You’d left him a voicemail back when you first got hired, introducing yourself to him and asking him to give you a call back to discuss work-related matters.

Bingo.

Your voice sent tingles down his spine as it resonated through the speakers of his iPhone. Jin quietly hummed at your words, as if he was agreeing to what you were saying — even though it had nothing to do with sex or pleasing him in any matter.

“Wish you were here,” He slips with his eyes shut, whilst his palm eagerly strokes his stiff cock, fingers gently brushing along the vein on his shaft.

“Need you so bad. Want to make you scream my name.” He replays it again with a hiss through his teeth. Drips of precum seep from the head of his cock; he lightly grazes the flesh with his long fingers, stimulating the sensitive area. The squelching noises from his slick length can be heard throughout his apartment as he pumps himself vigorously.

Another uncontrollable hum spills from Jin when he replays the recording again, picturing you on your knees blowing him off until you lose your breath.

“Hi Mr. Kim!”

How much he loves when you call him that. He’d almost forgotten when you used to address him that way, until he insisted that you didn’t have to and to simply refer to him as Jin.

“Mmm, love it when you used to call me that,” Jin whispers softly.

His hips move on their own, bucking up into his hand. His thighs clenching as he continues to fuck himself through his palm, and with furrowed brows he claws the sheets of his bed at the sound of your voice.

“This is ____, I was just transferred to your department and was told to follow up with you for any questions I may have.”

Jin’s hums now turned into moans, “Oh, fuck. Want to make you cum on Mr. Kim’s cock.”

“Anyways, if you could please give me a call back then I would really appreciate it. I look forward to meeting you!”

Jin’s toes curl at the last statement, his lips part instinctively and thighs stiffen themselves. His impending orgasm approaches as he cries out in pure bliss, “Oh, yeah! F-fuck!”

His chest rises and falls when streams of cum project onto his abs, some coating his fingers — while he softly pumps himself to rid of the remaining secretions. His loose strands stick to his forehead, thanks to the built up perspiration due to the raise in his body temperature. Jin lies there with a shaky breath and trembling thighs paired with thoughts of you. How much he wished his cum hadn’t gone to waste, how he wished he could cum so much inside of you that you gush pools of his jizz when he removes himself out of you. And lastly, how he’s nearly on the brink of risking it all just to be inside you.

—

One morning you break through the doors of the lab you share with Jin, to find him peering through a microscope. You can’t take it anymore; it’s been too long since the day you’d met him that you wanted to literally devour him whole. The need to hold your composure now thrown out the window completely. You snatch your badge off of you followed by your coat and slam your hand onto the counter, startling him from his work.

“I need you to fuck me until my brain is dead and I forget who I am and that we are in the middle of a pandemic.”

Seokjin’s mouth and eyes fly as wide as they can go. Without hesitation, he perks up from the stool and nearly tumbles over to tear his gloves off, remove his glasses, coat, and protective mask. He hurriedly washes his hands in the nearby sink, his eyes still traced on your uptight form. With lips still parted, he makes his way back to you and grips your sides, caressing you as if he’s admiring this moment of you standing here in front of him, begging for only him. He can’t process what’s actually happening and so he opts to do so later, and instead just appreciate this moment  — a dream that finally came true. Unexpectedly, he lunges you against the counter, causing your back to hit the handles of the drawers.

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve been waiting for you to say that?” He admits with a tone that’s mixed with lust.

Jin’s warm breath breezes past your face, sending a wave of chills down your spine. He cups your cheeks, and captures you in a heated kiss. His plump lips smooth out your own, a faint hint of coffee left on his tastebuds that signals you he more than likely had a cup of Joe this morning — your kisses filled with a fiery passion you didn’t know would finally come to light. His hands fall down to grip your waist in a feverish manner. Your fingers laced into his hair, an action you’d wanted to perform for what seems like forever now. His strands feel like satin under your fingertips.

His hands trail down to your ass cheeks, gripping the cushions with a hungry force. A rush of wetness seeps into your panties, and you silently convince yourself that you’d never been more horny until now. With teeth and tongues clashing, hands roaming along each others bodies, you both lose yourselves within each others touch — drifting into the euphoria of finally being relieved of the backed up tension that accumulated over these lonesome months. This moment in time was everything Jin had wished for. He yearned to have you in this way, and he’d only accept it if you were comfortable with doing so. The pang in his groin area throbs due to his high libido. Those nights he’d spent jerking himself off to the thought of you were now just a memory. When the burning need to breathe approaches, you both pull away panting for air. Jin’s already full lips now swollen and wet, his gorgeous almond-shaped eyes staring down your form in awe.

Your palms rest on his wide shoulders, caressing them with desperation.

“Please, Jin.” You plead with a whine. Within a swift he turns you around and bends you over. Your grip lands on the counter, knocking down the numerous utensils he’d previously been using, an almost failed attempt at keeping your balance. Jin roughly pulls your garments down, showcasing your panties. He brushes his digits along your covered core that pulses, almost as if speaking to his fingers. He applies more pressure, earning a small whimper. His erection gradually growing itself behind his briefs. He uses his index finger to pull your lacy undergarment to the side, a final reveal of your juicy lips. Your core clenches in front of him, as if calling to welcome him within your walls.

And suddenly a harsh slap lands on your delicate womanhood. You nearly fall apart on the spot at the abrupt infliction.

“That’s Mr. Kim to you.” He slips harshly and yanks your panties down to your ankles, your feet having tossed them somewhere in the distance. You hear the unbuckling of his belt, and he swiftly drops his trousers on the ground along with his briefs pooling at his ankles. His erect cock springs up, teasing the cheeks of your ass. And before you could even turn your head to take in the view of him, Seokjin slaps your lips a few times, the tip of his cock grazing against your clit while doing so. He then shoves himself entirely into you within one go, not even thinking to spare you even just for a moment. You knew you didn’t have to actually see his dick to know how big it is because damn did he stretch you out like you’d never been stretched before. You relentlessly pulsate around him, soaking him in your juices.

The pads of your fingertips grip onto the edge of the countertop. “Oh fuck me, oh!”

“Wow, you’re so tight. Fuck.” Jin moans. You find your hair being pulled back; he whispers into your ear, “I’m going to fucking give it to you, you hear me?” His large palm lands a rough smack to your ass cheek.

“Yes! S-sir!” You cry out, and another slap reoccurs, a familiar tingly sensation shoots straight to your heat. You didn’t think Jin was this dominate, but you’re convinced after such a drastic period of time, it would only make sense that he’d release his tension as he pleases. He creates his own brutal pace — relentlessly pounding your pussy out with no mercy. Your body bounces forward from Jin’s ferocious strokes, and your scalp aches from his tug on your hair.

“So wet, so tight,” He whispers to himself, blowing yet another smack to your bottom, followed by a gentle rub, an attempt to ease the soreness. You’re sure he’d leave a mark on you. The sound of his balls clapping against your cheeks resonates through the lab, and you internally pray that no one walks in because how fucked you’d both be if that happens. But at the same time, you really could care less because you’re being fucked by the hottest man in the company and that’s what matters right now.

“Fuck me, Mr. Kim! Please don’t stop!” His tug on your hair gets tighter. His delicate strands flapping up and down in the process of him hammering into you, his Adam’s apple bobs as moans emit from him, and his cock drenches itself in your arousal. He cherishes the sight of his dick entering and exiting your kitty, only for him to thrust forward into you with a sharp jab. He treasures your soft whimpers and cries of his name.

Jin pulls himself out of you completely, and you whine at the sudden loss of contact.

“Turn around,” With shaky legs, you comply and Jin gestures you to sit down on the stool — wrapping his arms under your knees and pulling your legs apart as wide as they can go, your drenched cunt on full display for his horny being.

You can finally see him and nearly cum on the spot at the sight of his huge cock. It’s beautiful, he glimmers of your wet — his mushroom tip approximately the same shade of color as his lips. He gives your pussy a few taps, mimicking a “knocking on the door” motion. The tip of his member prods your entrance, your fingers grip his forearms in hopes to not crumble from his ministrations, your legs eagerly wrapping themselves around his small waist. Once Jin’s length pushes past your folds, your walls immediately welcome him inside.

A fervor moan spills from you, and this time he doesn’t let up on your tender core, continuing where he left off with his rigid pace. With one hand gripping your waist, he uses the other to grip your neck, “Look at you all needy and desperate,” He slaps your face teasingly, earning a yelp from you. “I knew you wanted me this whole time.”

Another slap with a bit more force. A soft gasp falls from your fucked out self.

“Wanted me to destroy your tight little pussy just like this?” He forces a deep thrust, followed by another and another and another, gaining a strained cry from you. Your walls contract around his hardened length, begging for his motions to never stop. He slaps you again, making sure to leave a mark behind on your cheek.

“Speak when you’re spoken to.” He uses this time to slap your clit harshly, unsatisfied with not receiving a response from you.

You whimper in reply, a sudden jerk of your thighs, “Y-yes, Mr. Kim!”

Jin slaps you again, “Who’s a cock-hungry little slut for Mr. Kim?” He continues to slap your face again, alternating between your left and right cheek.

And again.

His filthy words cause a tingly sensation straight to your core, “Me. I-I am a slut for you, Sir.”

And again.

That familiar hum rumbles from Jin’s chest, an approval laced in satisfaction, “Mmm, that’s right. You’ll walk around this facility with my cum buried deep inside you. Understand?” He punctuates his question with a thrust so deep, you swear you feel him in your tummy.

“Yes, Sir!” You cry out with trembling legs. He’s hitting your sweet spot so well, and with another slap to your face, your eyes prick with tears. Jin’s overpowering demeanor is nothing like you’d ever seen before.

“Play with your clit.” He demands, and you follow. Your fingers find the nub to gently rub along the sensitive nerves, causing your thighs to twitch within Jin’s hold.

“Harder,” he commands. You comply and add more pressure, a boiling heat rising in the pit of your tummy. You close your eyes and focus on the sounds of Jin’s panting and your thighs smacking against his. He lands another harsh slap to your face, and squeezes your cheeks together with one hand.

“Open your mouth.” You obey him and find yourself opening up as he requests. He drops a line of his warm saliva onto your tongue, and demands, “Swallow.”

Your clit throbs in pleasure and he notes you’ve stopped rubbing yourself. With a gulp, you ingest his spit with a whimper. Jin slaps your clit this time, your legs naturally jerking in response.

“Did I tell you to stop touching yourself?” He probes while halting his thrusts. You nod your head in a no gesture, “N-no Sir.”

He slaps your aching clitoris repeatedly, then pulls himself out of you. Your walls cry at the loss of his thick cock. He bends down to forcefully slap your pussy, running his fingers along your dripping heat and within moments he lewdly spits on your wet folds, his saliva now glistening your already soaked labia. His tongue darts out to slither along your lips and he places a wet kiss to your clit before pulling away.

“I’d love to keep eating you out, but I’ve been dying to get inside this pussy,” He sheathes his member back inside of you and buries himself to the hilt, pulling back out all the way and slamming back into you. He releases another trail of his spit onto his shaft, smothering himself more. He licks the pad of his thumb and rubs your clit relentlessly, while giving you short and fast strokes; and suddenly your toes curl themselves at the same time your eyebrows furrow.

Seokjin notices your contorted expression, and with a beaming grin, he coos, “That’s right. Cum for Mr. Kim like the good, little slut you are.”

“Cumming, Oh fuck!” Your body quivers within his hold while your orgasm overtakes you, even the stool you’re still seated on slightly skids across the floor beneath you. Jin helps to ride your orgasm out, applying just the right amount of pressure as you writhe underneath him. Your nails graze along his clothed biceps, his sleeves now scrunched and wrinkled, and you honestly have no shame — too lost in being drowned into your orgasm.

He groans at the feel of your cunt contracting around his cock, his thrusts now gaining a sloppy momentum. “Fuck, didn’t know you could get so tight.” His eyes fall down to his cock — the sight of your lady lips sucking him in entirely and contracting around his shaft tips him over the edge.

Seokjin gazes into your eyes with parted lips and lets out a shuddering moan dipped in ecstasy, his nails dig into the flesh of your waist as he rides out his high.

“Fuck,” he breathlessly says. A sudden warmth down below causes you to witness Jin’s cock pulsing as thick ropes of his cum surges into you, painting your walls and filling you up entirely of him. He joins you in watching himself gradually ease out of you. You clench your walls intentionally; Jin’s cum drains from your fucked out heat and drips onto the ground.

You both remain in silence, the sound of your breaths filling up the entire space. Before you could even process what just happened, or simply let out a syllable or two, the double doors of the lab burst open.

There stood a tall, slender man with glasses and a dark-chocolate, bowl cut. His deep, baritone voice sends a shuddering chill through you.

“Someone’s got a lot of explaining to do.”

“Ah, shit.” Jin whispers, with both hands on his hips and his soft length now flaccid. You cover your face in your palms, in full shame.

[kkusuka]

Third year songs <3

this is most of the thrid years- not all 

from my spotify liked playlist <3

comes with a side of slight character analysis 

These are my interpretations of HQ characters and these songs!!

Time-skip spoilers!! (very slight) 

---

Karasuno 

Daichi Sawamura

 Waiting for Superman- Daughtry

She's waiting for Superman

To lift her up

And take her anywhere

Show her love

And climbing through the air

Save her now

Before it's too late tonight

She's waiting for Superman

Daichi seems like he makes a  lot of promises, that he just can’t physically keep. He just has so many things going on that he just can’t pay attention to all of them at once. This leads to far too many forgotten dates and even more broken promises. You know its not his fault and he does too, he just can’t leave anyone hanging. 

Koushi Sugawara

 Island- Florida Georgia Line

We might as well be on an island

Like we're the last two on this Earth

Like we're frozen here in time

Like it's empty here tonight

I feel like suga likes to put himself back into happier times. And that he tries to hold into happy moments as they are happening. He says he is a man of the moment, but when he feels down, he tries to put himself back into the more joyous times. 

Asahi Azumane 

You say- Lauren Daigle 

You say I am loved when I can't feel a thing

You say I am strong when I think I am weak

And you say I am held when I am falling short

And when I don't belong, oh You say I am Yours

And I believe (I)

Oh, I believe (I)

What You say of me (I)

I believe

Asahi is clearly very attached to how people perceive him. So when people shower him with compliments, he attaches onto them. He likes what makes him comfortable and he wants to stay comfortable for as long as he can. Words are important to him, so when he hears something bad it can ruin him for a while. He really does believe what the people he loves say to him. 

Kiyoko Shimizu

 Mothers daughter- Miley Cyrus 

Oh my gosh, she got the power

Oh, look at her, she got the power

So, so, so

…

Must be something in the water

Or that I'm my mother's daughter

The power this woman carries. She’s built her confidence and she’s not letting anyone ruin it for her. I truly believe that her friends all become more confident because she wants everyone around her to feel confident too. Since she doesn't speak all that much she lets her body language do most of the expression. 

--

Nekoma 

Tetsurō Kuroo

 High school sweethearts- Melanie Martinez 

Could you hold me through the night?

Put your lips all over my mine

Salty face when I start cryin'

Could you be my first time?

Eat me up like apple pie

Kuroo definitely takes trust very seriously. I feel he’s also really scared of someone breaking this trust, so he does form it with a lot of people. That saying if he does, he wants it to last forever.

 (...Step twoThis is a waste if you can't walk me down the finish line…) 

He truly believes in the people he surrounds himself with. 

Nobuyuki Kai 

Kill the Lights- Set it Off

Now I am cutting ties clean off

And I can breathe at last

So we all stand enthralled by this bland curtain call

And the truth we pursue as we all, we all beg you to

 Kai seems like he wasn't really that invested in volleyball, so having all these passionate people around him was a shock.  But he really got into third year, and he wants people to feel that passion too. In the back of his mind he feels bad for not feeling it like the rest of the team, but since looking in the past means nothing now, he tries to move on. 

Morisuke Yaku

 Mama- Mcr

And when we go don't blame us, yeah

We'll let the fires just bathe us, yeah

You made us oh so famous;

We'll never let you go

And when you go don't return to me my love

I mean, he is part of the mom squad. But it's ever so slightly more deep. I’m gonna say it's momma-bird syndrome. He doesn't want people to move on without him, seeing people achieve their dreams is great but he doesn't want you to do it if that means loving him. 

--

Seijoh

Tōru Oikawa

Prom Queen- Beach Bunny

Maybe I should try harder

You should lower your expectations

I'm no quick-curl barbie

I was never cut out for prom queen

I feel like oikawa is constantly feeling like he has to catch up to everyone around him. At some point in Argentina he came to the conclusion that he was good enough and didn't need to rise to anyone's standards of him, but when he got picked for the national team everything came back. He still has all of those feelings from high-school. Never making it to nationals, feeling like he failed his team. 

Issei Matsukawa

Bubblegum Bitch- Marina and the diamonds 

Got a figure like a pin-up, got a figure like a doll

Don't care if you think I'm dumb, I don't care at all

Candy bear, sweetie pie, wanna be adored

I'm the girl you'd die for

I feel like to earn Mattsun’s trust, he would put you through some ridiculous trial of sorts. I also feel that he is very comfortable with who he is, and he takes no shit about it. But that comes with the fact that he rarely takes fault in things, and that sparks arguments. He’ll use your love for him against you, he’ll be as cold as he can muster, until YOU take fault. 

Takahiro Hanamaki

 OUT THE ROOF- Chase Atlantic 

Yeah, we stay lit

We fuck bitches, pop on pillies, that is it, yeah

Holy moly, holy shit, yeah

Me and all my people are heaven sent, yeah, yup

9this is a strait vibe for Makki) 

I feel like Makki drowns his problems out with meaningless activities. Like smoking or one-night stands. He’d rather drown out his problems then have them in his  face. Or when he’s forced to face them, he’ll deflect until he has nothing else to deflect. Because when you’re high there nothing to worry about! Why stress about meaningless problems when he can be having fun!  

Hajime Iwaizumi

 Endlessly- The Cab

Yeah, your friends may think I'm crazy

Cause they can only see

I'm not perfect, but I swear, I'm perfect for you.

And there's no guarantee

That this will be easy.

It's not a miracle you need, believe me.

Yeah, I'm no angel, I'm just me

But I will love you endlessly.

Iwa knows that he can't be there for you all the time. Physically he tries his best, mentally he can help when he can. But you both know that you're perfect for one another. He just can't help but listen to the people around him sometimes. You deserve the world, but he doesn't know if he can give that to you. 

--

Fukurodani

Kōtarō Bokuto 

Prima Donna- Andrew Lloyd Webber 

Can you bow out when they're shouting your name?

Think of how they all adore you

We’ve all seen how Bokuto gets what he’s praised for literally anything remotely impressive. So that makes him a cannon prima donna! but that also means the lows and really bad mood swings. This song just fits him so well it’s scary.  

-- 

Shiratorizawa

Wakatoshi Ushijim

 More- Usher 

If you really want more, scream it out louder,

If you on the floor, bring out the fire,

And light it up, take it up higher,

Gotta push it to the limit, give it more.

This seems kinda obvious, but Ushijima never gives up. Ever since he was a kid, he set a goal for himself and he went beyond what he even set out for. And that comes with a lot of work and training for every new level of volleyball. He’s just going to get better and better until he retires, or is forced to retire. 

Eita Semi

 strawberries and cigarettes- troye sivan

Long nights, daydreams

Sugar and smoke rings, I've been a fool

But strawberries and cigarettes always taste like you

Headlights, on me

Racing to 60, I've been a fool

But strawberries and cigarettes always taste like

Blue eyes, black jeans

Lighters and candy, I've been a fool

But strawberries and cigarettes always taste like you

I feel like semi always thinks about how Shirabu replaced him on the starting line-up. But he’s mostly gotten over it, but certain things bring him back into that stage of his life. Then the cycle starts all over again. He constantly looks back on the game against Karasuno and thinks about wat would have happened if he was the setter instead. 

Reon Ōhira

 Remember when- Chris Wallace 

So can we push push push rewind,

Go go back in time,

When we were kids sneaking bottles of wine,

Take take take me back, I wanna go back,

Back to what we had! Do you remember when we started this mess,

My heart was beating out of my chest!,

Remember when we stole your dad's car,

Reon gives me the vibe that his days at Shiratorizawa were some of the best of his life. How can they not be? He made the greatest friends of his life there. And I also feel like he looks back on them a bit more than he wants to admit.

Satori Tendō

 This Side of Paradise- Coyote theory

Are you lonely?

Passion is crashing as we speak

You seem so lonely

You're the ground my feet won't reach

So if you're lonely

Darling you're glowing

If you're lonely come be lonely with me.

I get the vibe that Tendou attaches himself to whatever makes him feel wanted/safe. (ex. volleyball) he knows it isn't healthy, but he can't help it. This does lead to him completely distancing himself from you over and over because he thinks you’ll leave him. 

Hayato Yamagata- House of gold- Twenty one Pilots 

I will make you

Queen of everything you see

I'll put you on the map

I'll cure you of disease (Ooh)

And since we know that dreams are dead

And life turns plans up on their head

I will plan to be a bum

So I just might become someone

Even though we don't see a lot of him, I get the feeling he treats people really well. Like he cherishes people a lot more than some of them deserve. As you can see this leads to some unfair relationships and toxic people. He just wants to hold on until a good person comes along. 

--

Nohebi 

Suguru Daishō

Mr Loverman - Ricky Montgomery 

I'm Mr. Loverman

And I miss my lover, man

I'm Mr. Loverman

Oh, and I miss my lover

I feel like this was way too obvious, but it really is his song. It’s literally cannon, every lyric in this song is what happened with Mika. but in the end he got her back and made his promise  to be a better loverman <3. 

Kazuma Numai

 Nonstop- Drake 

Future took the business and ran it for me

I let Ollie take the owl, told him brand it for me

I get two million a pop and that's standard for me

Like I went blind dog, you gotta hand it to me

He looks and acts like a guy who listens to drake. He just seems like a guy who won't stop or give up even when things take a turn. He’ll just keep fighting until nothing’s left. 

Kōji Hiroo

 At the Wheel- Colorblind 

I need something to wake me up

It's never strong enough

I'm just getting colder and starting over

Going numb is just the way I run from

All my problems when I can't solve them

Need to break away

Escape the way I'm feeling

Hate to be fake, but I'm just dealing

This one doesn't really have a true reason, i really just felt like this was his song.  Sorry just the vibe. 

;)

Inarizaki

Shinsuke Kita

 Oh Ms Believer- twenty one pilots 

Oh, Ms. Believer, my pretty sleeper

Your twisted mind is like snow on the road

Your shaking shoulders prove that it's colder

Inside your head than the winter of dead

I will tell you I love you

But the muffs on your ears will cater your fears

My nose and feet are running as we start

To travel through snow

Together we go

I feel like kita is unintentionally cold towards the world, like he wants to open up but can't figure out how. But in turn if you can get him to feel “warmer” (get closer to him) he’ll share everything with you, almost oversharing. Just because he can't help it, he’s kept it all in for so long. Sometimes he just needs someone to hold him and make HIM feel better, because he does it for everyone. If you can manage all of this i feel like he’ll keep you with him forever. 

Ren Ōmimi

 Armor- Landon Austin

I'm not bullet proof when it comes to you

Don't know what to say when you made me the enemy

After the war is won

There's always the next one

I'm not bullet proof when it comes to you

I feel like not a lot of people approach ren because of how intimidating he looks. This has made him weary when people are really enthused to first meet him, because he thinks it’s a joke. After getting over that hurdle i feel like he just isn't an open person so it’ll take a long time to even get to a point where he trusts you. Hence the other wars after the first. 

Aran Ojiro-

 Never really over- Katy perry

Two years, and just like that, my head still takes me back

Thought it was done, but I guess it's never really over

Oh, we were such a mess, but wasn't it the best?

Thought it was done, but I guess it's never really over

Just because it's over doesn't mean it's really over

And if I think it over, maybe you'll be coming over again

And I'll have to get over you all over again

After all of these years, I really don't think Aran has truly gotten over losing at nationals in third year. And now on the national team he sees Hinata and Kageyama all the time and it takes him back. It makes him re-feel all the emotions he felt after the game. It hurt him to know that he gave his everything and still lost.  Like when he’s in bed he puts himself back into that self loathing phase of his life. 

Michinari Akagi

Try Hard - 5sos

It's obvious she’s so out of reach

And I'm finding it hard 'cause

She makes me feel, makes me feel

Like I try, like I try, like I'm trying too hard

'Cause I'm not being me

And it’s getting me down that

She makes me think, makes me think

That I try, that I try, that I'm trying too hard again

Akagi gives off boy best friend vibes.  But like to EVERYONE, so the person he liked just thought he was making fun of them and he didn't like them back. And i feel like that kinda traumatized him a bit, so when he got a new s/o he tried really really hard to make them special, but the same thing happened. 

i may do some with the second and first years, idk this took so long :)

[rawmeanderson]

pretty please ― friday.

ft. Kevin Hayes plot: with Kevin, Brady, and Jimmy all gone from New York and the new season about to start, everyone gets together for a long weekend. warnings: swearing, drinking, body issues, all sorts of sexy things but no penetrative sex. word count: 9.2k, making this the longest thing i’ve ever posted, holy shit. special thanks: a big thank you goes to @danglesnipecelly​ for proof reading for me, and also to @capobiancos​ for being such a wonderful hype person that validates my long winded chapters 🤗 notes: so, I basically lay out all of season two of Fleabag in this chapter in a way that would definitely fall under the realm of spoiling it, so I apologize if that upsets anyone! with that warning, I definitely encourage everyone to take the time to watch the series at some point because it lives rent free in my mind and will continue to do so for the rest of time. part of this takes place on a boat, and i’ve got to say, I don’t know a fucking thing about boats so i’m sorry if I got anything wrong 😂

THURSDAY

A knock on the door woke you up with a start the next morning, your body jolting for a brief second before you yawned, stretching out along the mattress. A second knock followed shortly after, and only then did you remember that someone had knocked to begin with, and that you weren’t even at home.

“Yeah?” you grumbled a second later, rolling onto your opposite side to face the door.

“Hey, it’s me,” Sophie said, opening the door enough to slip inside. She was still in her pjs, a sleepy smile on her face as she crossed the room.

You reached for your phone, checking the time and seeing that it was just a little after 10. There was a text from Kevin from 17 minutes ago, reading “Fleabag today?” You’d reply to it soon.

“Morning,” you yawned, stretching out along the mattress as she joined you in bed. She did this often at home on weekend mornings, usually to discuss what to do for breakfast or how to spend the day. 

“Mm, good morning,” she responded, already wrapping her arms around you as she pressed her face into the back of your shoulder. Sophie had always been a physically affectionate person, and you knew that was one of the things you’d miss the most when she moved. “Are you having fun?”

You snorted softly, rolling your eyes. Of course she was checking up on you. “Yeah, Soph, I’m okay,” you assured her, putting your hand over hers were she was holding onto you. “It’s good to see everybody.”

“Yeah, it really is,” she said, exhaling a content sigh. “What did you and Kevin talk about last night?” The question was innocent enough, but you could tell that she’d been dying to ask since you and Kevin had rejoined the group last night.

“We just caught up, really,” you told her, turning your head to yawn into your pillow quietly. “He wants me to come visit him in Philly sometime.”

“Aww, he’s always been so sweet on you. He was super happy when I told him you were coming this weekend.” Her words surprised you, making your cheeks burn a little, but you didn’t respond otherwise. Sophie knew that you and Kevin had hooked up before, and had always encouraged you to pursue him more. “We’re going swimming off the boat later, you should come with us.”

You made a slightly noncommittal sound, shrugging. “Maybe. Kevin wants to watch season two of Fleabag today, so I guess it depends when you leave,” you said, which resulted in Sophie making kissy sounds in your ear. “Oh my god, stop!” You both laughed as you elbowed her in the ribs gently, which only made her hold you tighter.

A quiet sigh left you, and the two of you laid there for a few minutes longer, until Sophie started snoring softly. With a soft laugh, you nudged her awake gently, and she groaned, forcing herself to sit up. You promise to get out of bed and join her in the living room soon, sending Kevin a quick thumbs up emoji, tacking on “I’ll be functional in 10 minutes” as you finally got to your feet. 

You changed out of your pjs into a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, tying your hair up in a bun as you crossed the hall to the bathroom to brush your teeth. Kevin had texted to say they’d be back in a few, but you hadn’t even realized that he had left.

Still feeling relatively sleepy, you settle into the corner of the couch in the living room next to Sophie, learning from someone that Kevin and Nolan had gone on a coffee run. Just as they get back, you were wishing you’d known that so you could’ve asked Kevin to bring you back something. It surprised you then, when there was suddenly a cup being offered to you.

“Caramel iced coffee, biggest one they had,” he said, tilting his head as he looked down at you. A smile spread across your face, feeling a tug of affection in your chest over the fact that he had remembered your coffee order. You thanked him, and he looked rather proud of himself for getting it right. 

“You ready for some Fleabag?” you asked, taking a sip as you looked at him with raised eyebrows. You wished you didn’t feel so giddy, that the idea of spending the next three hours with him didn’t have you damn near preening. 

“Hell yeah,” he said, glancing over his shoulder toward the hallway. “My room’s got a TV in it, and I think I figured out how to stream to it.”

You hadn’t fully gotten around to thinking about where you’d be watching the show, so the mention of Kevin’s room, where you’d both surely be sitting on the bed, made you straighten up a little more. “Yeah, that sounds good,” you said, flashing a grin and taking another long sip of coffee.

As you get to your feet, Sophie caught your eye, wiggling her eyebrows at you. If you were closer, you’d swat at her playfully, but you settled for rolling your eyes at her instead. 

Kevin had already showered, you realized, as you followed him to his room. His hair was still damp, and you could smell his body wash and cologne when you stepped past him into the room. Silently, you wish you’d taken the time to shower, knowing the smell of last night’s fire still clung to your hair.

You were eying the armchair closer to the TV when Kevin dropped onto the bed, sprawling out, but you knew it’d be weird to sit that far away. God, Kevin took up so much of the bed that it was a little absurd, his legs stretching out along the mattress, hand behind his head where he was propped up by the pillows. His attention was on the remote, and you cast a final look at the armchair before he patted the spot next to him on the bed without looking at you.

Your shoulders were tense as you walked around to the other side of the bed, sitting down and leaning back against the headboard. Kevin looked up at you, and you cursed the fact that with you sitting up, he could see one of your worst possible angles. He smiled either way and you willed yourself to relax.

Even after just one night at the cabin, the bed smelled like him. It was both calming and borderline panic inducing, making it impossible to stop yourself from thinking back to his bed and the way the sheets slid along your skin as he...fuck. This wasn’t what you needed to be thinking about when you were poised to be spending the next three hours on the (much smaller) bed next to him. What didn’t help at all was the hand Kevin put on your knee, squeezing lightly, almost looking like a giddy little kid as he pressed play on the first episode of the season.

“You ready to cry, Hayes?” you asked quietly, looking down at him. He looked so comfortable and relaxed, stretched out beside you.

“Man, I guess. Is it really that sad?” he questioned, eyes moving from the screen to you for a short moment. His voice was as soft as yours was, deep and gravely enough that you felt it practically vibrate through your body.

“Kind of, yeah,” you said with a laugh, sipping at your iced coffee. “Honestly, I cried like a baby through a good chunk of it. It felt really personal, especially the first time I watched it.” He nodded, eyes lingering on you before they went back to the screen just in time for Fleabag to say ‘this is a love story.’

You’re both pretty quiet through the first episode, with Kevin muttering about how much of a slime ball Martin was. True to your own nervous habits, you sucked down your iced coffee pretty quickly, as it gave you something to think about other than the 6’5” wall of muscle stretched out next to you.

“Is she gonna fuck the priest?” Kevin asked, looking up at you as the credits for the first episode rolled. Laughing softly, you leaned to put your now empty cup on the end table next to the bed.

“You’ll see,” you responded, eyes meeting his when you settle into the bed a little more. Your gaze dropped to his mouth for a brief second before you forced yourself to look back to the TV.

“Whenever you say that, it always means ‘yes,’” he teased, still watching you as the next episode started. He kept sneaking glances at you as it played but you kept your eyes trained forward.

It would be impossible to count how many times you’d watched Fleabag. Since it was only 12 half hour episodes in total, it was easy to rewatch in a single afternoon, making it an easy comfort watch when you were feeling down. Watching it with Kevin though, hearing him make quiet predictions and chuckling here and there, warmed you down to your soul. He had always seemed to enjoy the movies and shows you recommended to him, which had always left you feeling...valued by him. You tried not to let your mind dwell on the fact that he’d been waiting for this, to watch Fleabag with you for over a year and a half because it reminded you of the distance that would be between the two of you again in just a matter of days.

By the start of the third episode, you were sitting up more, your legs crossed and your elbows on your knees, like putting more space between you and Kevin would stop your chest from feeling like it was caving in. The iced coffee had made you a little jittery and restless, and just when your throat was starting to feel tight from thinking too hard about everything, you felt his hand rub over your back.

You glanced back at him and he smiled softly, his fingers tracing up your spine. His touch was warm and soothing, and the loud laugh he let out over the award debacle in the episode sounded so happy and genuine that you decided you never wanted to leave this bed. The curtains were closed, keeping the room relatively dark despite the early afternoon sun outside. 

Hot Priest had shown up again, and just as sexual tension was building on the show, you swore you could feel it building between you and Kevin as well. You were still sitting up, his hand still on your back by the time you gave in, sliding down to lay beside him. He watched you as you moved, his arm slipping around your shoulders easily when you curled into his side. It had been more than a year and a half since you’d laid like this with him, your head on his shoulder, but the position was still so familiar that you sighed comfortably.

The two of you were quiet and still for a while as the fourth episode started, and Kevin was the first to move, turning his head enough to kiss the top of your head. His stubble brushed against your hair and his arm tightened around you. When he laughed, you could feel his body rumbling with it. 

“Oh, she’s totally gonna fuck the priest,” he murmured to you, his mouth against the top of your head, speaking as the confessional scene started. The words were so low that it sent a jolt of desire through you that only made you lean into Kevin more.

The make out scene that followed seemed to have both of you holding your breath until the painting fell on screen, jolting both of you and the characters. Kevin exhaled a breath and you found yourself laughing softly, tilting your head up to look at him.

“You good?” you asked, grinning as you tried to stop yourself from thinking about just how close his face was to yours.

“Yeah,” he responded, holding your gaze as the credits rolled. Your hand on his chest curled into a fist as you remembered how good the prickle of his stubble always felt against your palm. His eyes dropped to your mouth as his fingers slid over the nape of your neck. You didn’t doubt that he felt you tense against him as a shiver ran through you from the contact. 

You wanted to kiss him, wanted to press your body against his and never pull away, but instead you tucked your head against his shoulder. He didn’t seem to mind, rubbing his hand over your back again comfortably. 

Kevin roared with laughter over Claire’s haircut, almost as much as you had when you first watched it. You couldn’t help but laugh with him, enjoying the way his body shook against yours. When he quieted down again, you could hear his heartbeat as you pressed your ear to his chest. If you closed your eyes, it would probably feel like everyone was back in New York, that you’d have all the time in the world to stay like this. 

At the end of the episode, when the sexual tension exploded on screen, Kevin nudged you. “Called it,” he said, murmuring the words against your temple as he nosed at your messy hair. His voice vibrated through you in a way that made you feel warm all over. As badly as you wanted to, you didn’t look up at him, knowing that you wouldn’t have the self control not to cross that invisible line.

As the final episode started, you realized just how warm it had gotten in the room, and being curled up against Kevin like you were hardly helped. This episode always tore you apart then put you back together again, and you lifted your head to glance at him once when Hot Priest was giving his speech about how love is awful, then nuzzled right back into his shoulder for the time being.

You weren’t sure if it was Sophie’s impending move or the fact that Kevin was with you, but as soon as This Feeling started at the end of the episode, there were tears in your eyes. The song itself just felt like it was hitting harder, and you chewed on the inside of your cheek as you sniffled. Kevin’s arm tightened around you as the credits rolled, kissing your hair again as he sighed a moment later. 

“When is season three coming out?” Kevin asked eventually, his cheek resting against the top of your head as his thumb rubbed firmly over your shoulder blade.

You lifted your head to look at him, knowing tears were still swimming in your eyes. “That’s it. There’s not gonna be a season three,” you told him with the same sad smile you always had when remembering what you’d just told him.

“What? Are you fucking kidding?” he questioned, sounding outrightly offended. You snorted softly, still looking at him as you laughed. Now that the show was over, you weren’t able to distract yourself from how badly you wanted to stay just like this for the rest of the weekend.

“Phoebe’s busy! She’s got Killing Eve to work on, plus she did the screenplay for the new James Bond movie,” you told him, shifting onto your stomach a little more so you didn’t have to crane your neck to look up at him. His arm resettled around your waist, keeping your body pressed close against his. “Besides, how could she ever create something else as perfect as that second season? It’s just impossible.”

Kevin hummed once, nodding. “Yeah, you’re right,” he murmured, eyes moving over your face. “I’m glad I waited to watch it with you.” His voice was softer, making your heart race as he brushed his knuckles over your cheekbone.

“So, it was worth the wait?” you responded quietly, tilting your face toward his a little more.  

“Oh yeah, you always have been,” he told you, making you crack a wide smile as you scoffed.

“Damn, that was smooth,” you teased, licking your lips as he grinned. He shrugged it off, and you wondered if he realized how obvious he was being, staring at your mouth like he was. 

“Always have been,” he repeated, making you snort. Before you could laugh, his hand slid along your jaw, drawing you close enough that he could kiss you.

It’s probably for the better that he kissed you, considering you wouldn’t have been nearly this slow about it. He was still cupping your jaw, keeping you close as you leaned into him more. You were trying to pace yourself as want coursed through you, and you realized that he’d never kissed you like this.

The pair of you had hooked up about half a dozen times, and each time was rough and hungry, but now, the leisurely pace of it had your toes curling. He was kissing you like he had all day to savor you, to wear you down and build you up again. Honestly, you didn’t know if you’d ever been kissed like this.

When he sucked at your bottom lip gently, you sighed against his mouth, unable to hide the way you arched into him. You felt him smile slightly, and it was like your world was on fire. If you had remembered how to move, you would’ve shifted to lean over him, to take it farther, but even kissing him this slowly was taking every ounce of your energy.

He pulled back just slightly, and you were grateful for the chance to breathe. Your body was still buzzing when you smiled, settling your head on his shoulder again. Kevin kissed your forehead then your hair again, exhaling a heavy sigh of his own.

“How long do you think we’d be able to stay here before Sophie comes banging on the door, looking for you?” he asked.

“Probably not long,” you responded, reaching for your phone that you’d left on the nightstand. Checking your notifications, you scoffed as you pressed your face into his shoulder. “I’ve got three texts from her. They’re going swimming off the boat, and were kind of waiting on me.”

Kevin nodded, reluctantly loosening his arm around you. You stayed where you were though, knowing Sophie would survive a few more minutes. Finally, you mustered the motivation to move more than an inch for the first time in over an hour, leaning over him to press a quick, firm kiss to his mouth.

His hand slid to the back of your neck easily, kissing you back harder than he had before, and to stop yourself from melting against him, you pulled back, already moving to the edge of the bed. Kevin made an irritable sound that did wonders for your confidence, and you looked over your shoulder at him with a grin.

“D’you think there’s room on the boat for me to join?” he asked as you got to your feet. 

You shrugged quickly, lingering at the edge of the bed. “I’d assume so,” you said, knowing you needed to get back across the hall to change, but it was just too hard to take your eyes off of him right now. “Tell me to go get changed, or else I’m never going to leave.”

Kevin smiled and it was the kind that made you feel warm everywhere, like honey was running through your veins. “Go change, Y/N,” he told you, nodding toward the door. You looked at him for a moment longer before doing as he said, slipping out of his room to return to your own.

You texted Sophie to let her know you’d be ready in a few minutes before stripping out of your clothes. Pulling on your swimsuit was the first time all day that the self-consciousness crept into your mind. You’d been in desperate need of a new suit earlier in the season and, feeling good, you’d ordered one that showed more skin that you were used to. The cutouts at your sides especially had you itching to pull something on over it. The suit fit, but snugly enough that you found yourself trying to tug at it here and there, wanting to make it longer or bigger.

Pulling your shorts on as you grabbed a towel was a band-aid to the feeling, but it did the trick as you ventured out of your room to find Sophie. You made sure to grab sunglasses and a bottle of sunscreen, knowing Sophie always forgot to bring some when needed. She had texted to say they were already down at the dock, and as you headed down to meet them, Kevin was a few steps ahead of you.

He was already shirtless, therefore already distracting. His shoulders were a little pink from being in the sun yesterday, and all that you could think about was running your fingers over the bumps of his spine and dragging your nails over his skin. 

Like he could tell you were checking him out, he glanced over his shoulder and smiled at you, stopping to let you catch up to him. “That color looks great on you,” he told you as you fought the urge to tug at your suit. His eyes were still on you, tracing the curves of your body, and the warm desire that rolled through you was louder than your insecurities.

“You should wear sunscreen,” you told him with a cheeky grin, tossing the bottle to him. He nearly fumbled it, looking like he was proud of himself that he hadn’t dropped it, and you were about to say something else when you heard Sophie yell up to you excitedly from the boat.

“Do you think she’s already drunk?” Kevin asked softly, eyebrow raised as you both stepped onto the dock.

“You know how much she loves day drinking,” you said, shrugging with a little a knowing grin. Sure enough, there was a lemonade Truly in her hand when she made grabby hands at you as you stepped onto the boat.

“I’m so glad you’re coming with us,” Sophie told you, hugging you tightly as if she hadn’t seen you less than four hours earlier. You laugh, hugging her tightly as her attention turns to Kevin. “Ooh, good thinking bringing sunscreen, Kev! Make sure to get Y/N’s shoulders, she always misses the same spot!” She flashed a grin at you, then in typical Sophie fashion, she went back to sit next to Jimmy.

You hated when she put you on the spot like this, but thankfully, Kevin was practically smirking as you stepped aside to give him room to step off the dock. “She never changes, does she?” he laughed, already dropping his towel into a seat. His voice was low and you shrugged because he was right.

“I’d be disappointed if she did,” you responded, tightening the bun in your hair idly. You glanced out at the water simply to keep yourself from looking at Kevin and the way his swimsuit was settled low on his hips.

“I honestly think she might kill me if she doesn’t see me put sunscreen on your shoulders,” he said, nodding toward Sophie who was pointedly watching the two of you while finishing off her drink. You snorted, nodding as he opened the bottle, squeezing some into his hands. 

He motioned for you to turn around and with your back to him, your back tensed slightly. The sunscreen was cold against your skin, but Kevin’s hands made up for it, warm and strong as you willed yourself to think about anything but how you’d much rather have his hands elsewhere. He had to know exactly what he was doing with the way his thumb pressed against a spot on your neck that made you exhale a sigh as his hand moved lower down your back.

Across the boat, Sophie was making herself look busy by grabbing another drink from the cooler, and she seemed very pleased with herself.

“There, that should be up to Sophie’s standards,” Kevin said a moment later, dropping onto the cushioned seat behind him as he handed you the sunscreen. “You gonna get my shoulders now, or what?” There was a challenge to his tone, and as you were just about to respond, the boat started to move and you took the opportunity to sit down for the time being. 

Kevin was clearly trying to be casual, taking up just as much space as always with his thigh against yours. He was leaning back, his arm stretched out along the back of the seat behind you. Technically, his arm was around you, but he was clearly trying play it cool.

Sophie was in the water the second the boat stopped a few minutes later, and Jimmy joined her after tossing some of the floats in that she’d piled on the deck earlier. You stayed in your seat to watch Sophie and Jimmy splash at each other a bit, laughing as he dunked her underwater. Brady followed them in a minute later, leaving you tucked under Kevin’s arm with the sunscreen still in your hand.

Kevin looked at you expectantly and you scoffed, getting to your feet as you squeezed sunscreen into your hand. He stayed seated with his head tilted up to watch you, a smile spreading across his face.

“What are you smiling about?” you asked as you leaned closer to start rubbing sunscreen onto his shoulders. 

“Your tits look awesome in this swimsuit,” he told you, voice low enough that Brady wouldn’t hear him. You hadn’t expected that to be his answer and you scoff, shaking your head as you felt yourself flush. You pinched his neck teasingly, his hand shooting up to catch your wrist, grinning all the while. 

“Have I ever told you that you’re annoying?” Your tone is even as you go back to sunscreen duty, his gaze clearly dropping to the neckline of your suit again. 

“Pretty often, yeah.” He shrugged nonchalantly and you rolled your eyes as your hand rubbed over the back of his neck. “Can I have a kiss?” Kevin had already tilted his head up to look at you, and fuck, how were you supposed to say no to that.

You leaned in to quickly press your mouth to his, keeping it chaste, but he looked pleased when you pulled back. You don’t stop him when he moved back toward you, stealing another before smacking your ass teasingly. It surprised you and your gasp faded into laughter as he got to his feet to start talking you into actually getting in the water.

The sun was hot, and the five of you stayed out on the water for a few hours, mostly floating around, talking about nothing, really. Kevin seemed to be keeping close to you, and you hardly minded. You made sure Sophie had sunscreen on and she took the chance to wiggle her eyebrows at you suggestively before jerking her head toward Kevin. 

Evening had just hit by the time you got back to the cabin and you had desperately needed a shower. You felt like a new person after you re-emerged from the bathroom and joined the group again, just as dinner was nearly ready. Kevin damn near pouted at you when you sat next to Sophie, out of his reach.

You did, however, sit with Kevin and Nolan during dinner, carrying out a casual conversation about Netflix originals versus Hulu originals. Kevin made heart eyes at you the whole time, and it was more than a little distracting. You nudged him under the table with your foot at one point and he took that as encouragement, doing the same back to you. 

Pairing up with Sophie, the two of you managed to beat Kevin and Jimmy at pong twice. Music was playing as the others hung around, chatting amongst themselves. Nolan and Brady had pulled up seats next to the pong table, seemingly cheering for you and Sophie. Someone got another fire going as dusk fell, which you all gravitated towards when Jimmy and Kevin decided they didn’t want to lose to you and Sophie a third time. 

Brady was drunk in no time, with Jimmy not far behind him. They each decided to try to roast marshmallows, which failed miserably. The night was a little chilly, so you were grateful to be around the fire. You turned your head to glance out at the lake, then looked up at the stars, relaxing back into your chair. When you look back to the fire again, Kevin was watching you, winking at you when you made eye contact. He made you feel like a goddamn teenager with the way the wink had made your stomach flip. 

It was nearly 10:30 when you finished the only drink you’d brought down to the fire, and you sighed as you got to your feet. Walking past Kevin, his hand slid around your wrist to stop you. “You going up to grab another drink?” he asked casually, as if his thumb brushing over your skin wasn’t making it difficult for you to think straight. 

“That was my plan, yeah,” you responded, looking at him expectantly. Behind you, Sophie was laughing at something, and you could hear the fire crackling.

“Cool, I’ll come with you,” he said, his hand still wrapped around your wrist. When he got to his feet though, his fingers laced with yours as the two of you started up toward the cabin. You almost scoffed teasingly, surprised by the sudden influx of PDA throughout the day as he walked you away from the rest of the group.

Halfway there, walking along the group of trees that separate the cabin from the property next door, you saw Kevin glance over his shoulder briefly. He squeezed your hand, nodding his head toward the trees with a grin.

“What are you doing?” you asked, laughing as you stepped into the thicket. You looked back quickly, and no one seemed to notice the two of you disappearing into the trees.

“Nothing,” Kevin responded in an innocent enough tone that you laughed in response.

“You know there’s a whole cabin up there that we can go to, rather than be in the trees with all of the bugs and sap or whatever, right?” you teased, realizing you were deep enough into the trees that you could barely hear the murmur of the group talking around the fire. 

“Too far away,” he said, letting go of your hand to put his arm around your waist. 

“So what, we’re gonna make out in the woods for a while?” You were laughing a little as you said it, head tilted up to look at him. The smile on his face made your knees wobble a little as you leaned back slightly into the tree behind you, enjoying the quiet sound of the crickets that surrounded you.

Kevin shrugged, his hand sliding over your waist and along your back. He’d always made you feel so small in comparison to him and now was no exception as he watched your face, like he was enjoying making you wait for more contact. Your hand moved along his chest idly, the fabric of his shirt soft beneath your hand before it settled on the back of his neck to pull him down to you.

All the restraint of the kiss earlier had gone out the window, that much was obvious. It was slow, at least to start, your body buzzing as his teeth caught on your bottom lip already. Your arm tightened around his shoulders, keeping him close as he crowded you against the tree. The bark was digging into your back, scratching you a bit through the fabric of your shirt, but you hardly cared.

His tongue slid over yours and you moaned, not even trying to stop yourself. The sound obviously encouraged him, his hands sliding down to squeeze your ass as he pressed against you more. Urgency seeped into each of you, making you kiss him harder as your hand slid along his jaw. The scratch of stubble against your palm was better than you even remembered, and the desire to feel the same scratch against the inside of your thighs jolted through you.

After palming at your ass again, his hands moved up to the curve of your waist slowly like he was savoring it. He was pressed flush against you by then, overwhelming your senses as you gripped the fabric of his shirt. You sneaked a breathe where you could, your hand sliding up the thick muscle of his arm and over his shoulder. 

Your clit was throbbing between your thighs as you arched toward him, enjoying the soft sound he made feeling your breasts press against his chest. An eager tension was curling up your spine, an impatient, needy sound leaving you as he tugged at your bottom lip teasingly. His mouth left yours to kiss your jaw, coaxing you to tilt your head to the side for him.

Of course, you gave in, your hand sliding into his hair as his kissed along the column of your throat. “You’ve been driving me fucking crazy all day,” he murmured, his mouth against your ear while gripping your hips tightly. “That swimsuit, these fucking shorts.” The sentence is punctuated by him grabbing your ass again, pulling your hips forward into his.

“Fuck, Kevin,” you exhaled, your hand finding his cheek to guide his mouth back to yours. Even with his body pressed against yours like it was, you still needed more. 

His hands were everywhere, sliding up to cup your breast over your shirt, the other on your hip. Squeezing your thighs together, you licked into his mouth as your body rocked against his hungrily. You wanted to hate just how easy it was for him to get you wound up like this, but you’d always absolutely melted under his touch. 

Impatience was threatening to boil over as your core absolutely ached for him, desperate to feel more of him. The kiss had become a little sloppy, and by the time your hand found his wrist to guide his fingers to the waist of your shorts, your lungs were burning. 

He pulled back, his forehead resting against your temple as you both took a few breaths. “You want me to touch you, baby?” he asked, voice low as he kissed your jaw. His fingers toyed with the button of your shorts, making your breathing hitch as you nodded eagerly.

The button came undone, then the zipper, and his hand slipped into your panties, clearly feeling just as impatient as you were. Your arm settled around his neck to keep him close, turning your head to brush your mouth over his again. He happily swallowed the moan you let out as his fingers slid through your folds with ease, exhaling a curse a second later.

“Shit, sweetheart,” he murmured against your mouth, letting the tip of his finger just barely tease at your clit. 

“Don’t be a tease,” you pled, half whining for him already as your hips pressed toward his hand. You swore he was smirking even as he kissed you, his other hand coming up to hold your jaw, keeping your mouth against to his.

Kevin had started to rub firm circles against your clit, enough to make you squirm as you pant into his mouth. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d been this turned on, and you were so hungry for him that you’d completely forgotten that you were pressed against a tree with your friends 30 feet away.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he murmured, fingers rubbing firm strokes from your entrance to your clit and back. You could only nod, still trying to kiss him desperately despite the fact that you had barely caught your breath. He was still pressed close against you and you could feel the hard outline of his cock through his shorts which sent another wave of need through you. 

A slew of curses left you when he sank two fingers into you, letting the heel of his hand grind against your clit. Your hips pressed toward him urgently, feeling yourself tighten around his fingers, and part of you still could hardly believe this was even happening. His mouth left yours before you were ready, trailing down your neck again to suck at your pulse point. You squeezed his shoulder as your hand curled in the fabric of his shirt, doing your best to catch your breath. 

“More, Kev, fuck.” Your words were rushed as you whimpered loudly, feeling his fingers curl against your g-spot. If you had been able to keep them open, your eyes would’ve crossed, exhaling a pleased groan your head fell back against the trunk of the tree behind you.

Your toes curled as heat curled in your stomach, barely able to believe he had you this close to an orgasm already. His fingers were buried deep inside you, fucking into you in shallow motions and giving you the friction that you so desperately needed. 

“C’mon, beautiful, I know you can cum for me,” Kevin said, nipping at your jaw then kissing the hollow of your throat. You nodded quickly, opening your mouth to say who knows what, but a moan came out instead.

He cursed into your skin when your hips jerked, and you tumbled over the edge, somehow managing to groan his name as you came. You were practically clinging to him, whimpering and grateful that you were still upright even as your knees shook. Heat wove through you, leaving your mind blank and buzzing by the time you came down, your hips rocking against his hand until you slowed to a stop.

Your eyes were still closed, because you weren’t sure if you remembered how to open them, more concerned about getting air into your lungs. Kevin’s mouth pressed light and gentle kisses up the side of your neck to your cheek, doing nothing to help slow your heart rate down again. When he kissed you on the mouth, it was sweet, but with a hungry edge that made you clench around his fingers again.

“Damn, I forgot how fucking sexy you are when you cum,” he told you, letting his palm grind against your clit again. Your folds were sensitive and the feeling made you gasp, arching away from him with a whine.

When he pulled back, his fingers leaving you, he was smirking and you couldn’t stop yourself from giving him a pleased grin. Your cheeks were flushed and when you licked your lips, you could tell they were swollen. Everything was buzzing still, and like you finally remembered that the two of you were only slightly hidden by the trees, you glanced around quickly.

“Do you think you can keep your dick in check long enough for us to get to your room?” you asked, a teasing tone to your voice as you let your knuckles brush over the hard line of his cock. 

“Not if you keep doing that,” he responded, leaning to press a quick, open mouthed kiss to your lips before taking your hand and starting toward the cabin.

You nearly had to jog to keep up with Kevin, and you laughed as you told him to slow down. Glancing over your shoulder, it doesn’t seem that anyone around the fire seemed to notice the two of you slip inside the cabin, only pausing to kick off your shoes. 

As soon as the door to his room was closed behind you, his hands were on you again, pulling your body against his. Your head tilted back to meet his kiss, a satisfied hum leaving you at the contact. His hand found your waist, squeezing you there before starting to tug at the fabric of your shirt. He leaned back to pull it off over your head, and you swallowed, grateful that the room was still dark. 

You unfastened his shorts, and when your hand slipped inside to stroke him through his underwear, he groaned your name. His mouth crashed into yours again, bringing his hands up to hold your face gently despite the hunger you were both displaying. He kissed you for a moment longer, one hand sliding to the back of your neck, then to your shoulder as you nudged his shorts down. 

It was easy to figure out what he wanted when he pressed down on your shoulder lightly. You chuckled, kissing him again before sinking to your knees in front of him. His breathing hitched at the sight of you, and you smirked, already leaning in drag your tongue along the hard line of his cock through the fabric of his boxer-briefs. It would have been impossible for you to forget how much he had loved you going down on him, so why not take the time to tease him a little. 

When you looked up at him through your eyelashes, he cursed under his breath as you tugged his underwear down. His eyes were locked on you as his hand moved to push your hair out of your face, keeping his fingers threaded through the strands. With his cock free, you leaned closer to swirl your tongue around the head of it and you could tell that his hands were already shaking slightly. 

The grunt that left him when your hand stroked along his length a few times sent heat prickling down your spine as you started to take more of him between your lips. He started panting in response to you dragging your thumb along the underside of his dick, and his hips rocked toward you lazily. His responsiveness to every touch made you all the more eager, letting your hand fall away from him as you took him deeper in your mouth. 

You took a breath before letting him start to slide down your throat when his fist tightened in your hair. You arched your back to press your breasts against his legs, nearly gagging around his length as he swore under his breath. 

“Fuck, I missed your mouth,” he told you, breathing heavily as you started to bob your head. Alternating between sucking and sliding your tongue over him, you looked up at him again as your clit throbbed between your legs. His brow was creased, eyes squeezed shut as he groaned, and he was tense with restraint, his hips twitching toward you. 

Your lungs were burning, but the heady taste of him and the sound of his voice when he praised you softly had need burning through your veins. Speeding up slightly, your hand squeezed his thigh, letting your nails dig into his skin and he swore loudly. You let yourself get a little sloppy and your jaw relaxed when he hit the back of your throat. It surprised you a little when he briefly held you in place, but him taking that little bit of control made you moan around him.

As soon as he released you, you pulled off to catch your breath, bringing your hand up to stroke him slowly. His eyes were still locked on you, and you grinned up at him, knowing your lips were slick and swollen. Taking another deep breath, you leaned in again, dragging your tongue along the length. It was getting difficult to ignore the way your folds were throbbing, and you were so wet that the inside of your thighs were slick. 

“Shit, Y/N, I’m gonna cum,” Kevin warned, his voice tight as his hand in your hair tightened as he guided you back to where he wanted you. You rolled your eyes at him, smirking quickly before opening your mouth to soothe your tongue over the slit at the head of his cock.

Sliding your mouth along his length, sucking eagerly as your nails dragged down his thigh was all it took to make his hips snap forward when he came. He cursed, fucking into your mouth lazily as he spilled hot down your throat. You could feel his knees shaking slightly and you swallowed, starting to bob your head again as you exhaled a content sigh through your nose.

His hand relaxed in your hair and you pulled off, licking your lips as you looked up again. He had a blissed out look in his eye, breathing heavily as he grinned down at you. Sitting back on your heels, you licked your lips as he took another deep breath.

“I think you actually sucked my soul out,” he said a moment later, a chuckle to his voice as he dragged a hand down his face.

You snorted, grinning as you got to your feet. “Glad I could be of service,” you responded, earning a laugh out of him as his hands settled on your waist. He was smiling as he leaned to kiss you, and the second his mouth was on yours again, that intensity was back. 

His hands moved to unfasten your bra with ease, tugging the fabric away from your body as he started walking you backwards toward the bed. You followed his lead, gasping when his hand came up to cup your breast, rolling your pebbled nipple between his thumb and forefinger with a greedy hum. The back of your thighs hit the edge of mattress, but you stayed on your feet, unwilling to stop kissing him just yet. 

Kevin licked into your mouth, kissing you deeply as his hands slid down to squeeze your ass firmly with a groan. “Lay back for me,” he told you, mouth barely leaving yours. You nodded, tugging at his bottom lip with your teeth when you finally pulled back, settling yourself on the mattress.

Before you could pull him down to you, he was reaching to turn on the lamp on the bedside table. Warm light flooded the room and a protest caught in your throat, self-consciousness sweeping through you. Looking up at him, you managed to fight the urge to cover yourself as a flush colored your cheeks. 

He was silent, looking over you with greedy eyes as he pulled his shirt off over his head. After tucking his dick back in his boxer-briefs, he kicked his shorts off as well before he stepped between your parted knees. Leaning over you with a hand at your side, he kissed between your breasts and down along your stomach to make your breathing hitch. You didn’t expect him to nuzzle against you like he did, exhaling a breath.

“I missed you so much,” he told you, the words quiet as he glanced up at you. There was a softness in his eyes that you hadn’t expected, making your stomach jump as you squirmed on the bed impatiently.

He didn’t give you much of a chance to respond, his hands coming up to tug your shirt and panties down your hips. As soon as he managed to get them untangled from your legs, the fabric joined everything else on the floor, and he pulled you closer to the edge of the mattress as he sank to his knees in front of you.

Kevin didn’t waste anymore time, guiding your legs over his shoulders as his mouth trailed up the inside of your thigh. His breath was hot against your skin and you did your best to relax despite the fact that your hips was already tense with anticipation. You swore loudly when he parted your folds with two fingers, almost immediately leaning in to drag his tongue from your entrance up to your clit, punctuating the motion by sucking the swollen bundle of nerves into his mouth. 

“Oh my god, Kevin,” you breathed, already rolling your hips against his mouth greedily. He hummed in acknowledgement, and you swore you felt the vibration run through every inch of you. 

“I love how fucking wet you get from sucking me off,” he murmured, eyes sliding up your body as his tongue fucked into you. It was your turn to let your fist curl in his hair, pulling at the short strands as he lapped at your wetness. His nose nudged at your clit and his hand slid along the back of your thigh, pushing it up toward your chest. You loved how he was maneuvering you as he saw fit, positioning you exactly how he wanted you.

One of his hands was under your ass, keeping you propped up for him while the other hand slid up your body to your breast. His tongue continued to slide through your folds, sucking here and there as he toyed with your nipple. He was a little rougher than you had anticipated, and the motion makes you groan, arching off the mattress. You could already feel your orgasm building from being so wound up already, making your toes curl as tension bubbled in your stomach. 

“More, Kev, please,” you whined, biting you lip to try and hold back the desperate sounds that rose in the back of your throat. He gave you what he wanted, like he always did, and your clit absolutely throbbed as he sucked it into his mouth again.

With his mouth occupied, he brought two fingers up to tease at your entrance, and you swore loudly as your hips rocked slightly, seeking him out. “You gonna fuck yourself on my fingers, baby?” he asked, the words vibrating through you considering he could barely bring himself to pull away from you.

Immediately, you nodded, then you forgot how to breath all together as he sank two fingers into you, tugging at your nipple at the same time. His tongue was sliding over your clit insistently, drawing figure eights against it as his fingers curled against your g-spot. You saw stars and the sound that left you was nothing short of a sob as your hips rolled against his hand, trying to getting him deeper. Your heel pressed between his shoulder blades, grateful for the extra leverage to help you meet his hand.

Your toes were curled so tightly that your foot threatened to cramp, and when he started to pump his fingers into you to meet the motion of your body, he moaned. The rough stubble covering his jaw had left the inside of your thighs sensitive, bordering on raw, but the irritation only made you that much more desperate. You swore, feeling yourself bow off the bed as he practically devoured you, hitting all of the right spots to send you barreling over the edge and into an orgasm. 

He didn’t let up, fingers still fucking into you as his mouth toyed with your clit mercilessly. It was impossible to catch your breath, pleading for him as you tugged at his hair roughly in an effort to keep him close. By the time you stopped squeezing around his fingers, you had relaxed into the mattress and your body felt heavy as your leg stayed draped over his shoulder.

Looking down at him, you realized that his eyes were already on you, his fingers still buried inside you but not moving as he lapped at your folds firmly. He always felt so good, bringing you down easy like this, until all of a sudden it was too much. A gasp ripped through you as you pushed at his head, the reaction met with a laugh as he pulled away from you.

“Sensitive?” he murmured, eyebrow raised as he smirked slightly. You nodded, a lazy smile on your face as you untangled yourself from him. He pressed a kiss to your hip as he withdrew his fingers from you, looking awfully pleased with himself. 

Your heart rate had finally started to slow by the time he dropped onto the mattress next to you, pressing a kiss to your jaw, then your cheek. There was a hazy look in your eye when you looked at him, still unable to figure out how to piece together a sentence. 

The two of you laid there for a while, close together and just breathing as your fingers traced shapes along his shoulder. Really, you should’ve moved because your bottom half was still hanging off the edge of the bed. 

“You think anyone realized we never came back with drinks?” he asked eventually, his voice a sleepy grumble. You laughed softly, shrugging before you sighed, turning your head to look at him. Leaning forward, you kissed him softly before sitting up. He watched you for a moment longer before he reached for his phone. “Damn, it’s after 11 already.”

“No point in going back out now, if you ask me,” you responded, moving over the mattress to lay your head against a pillow.

You smiled when he moved to follow, already curling up against you. He kissed along your shoulder, nuzzling into the back of your neck after pulled the sheets up to cover you. The cautious voice in the back of your head was telling you that you needed to get up, that you needed to get dressed and go back to your own room, but the bed smelled like him and he was so warm when his leg tangled with yours.

He only pulled back quickly to turn off the lamp before settling against you again even closer, his face pressed into your hair. You were content, even a little sleepy, and getting up wasn’t much of a priority right then. His fingers slid along you waist as the two of you stayed curled up in the dark, slipping into easy conversation.

Kevin had always been pretty quick to fall asleep after a good orgasm, and now seemed to be no exception. The talking tapered off after a while, and his face was pressed into your neck when you heard him start to snore softly. You stayed in place a while longer, nearly squirming with the effort to stay place as the voice in your head got louder and louder. 

Your hand slid along his forearm before you untangled yourself from him, finding that your knees are still wobbly when you got to your feet. It was easy enough to find your shorts and your shirt in the dark and you got dressed before going across the hall. The rest of the cabin was quiet and you went straight to your room, stripping out of the clothes again as you pulled your pjs on with shaking hands. 

In bed, you laid on your back, staring at the ceiling in the dark. Your feelings for him certainly hadn’t changed, so why would the fact that you never slept in bed with him. Every time you’d hooked up in New York, you pulled yourself out of his bed to go to the guest room. You didn’t know why, but Kevin had never mentioned it. Now though, you felt dirty about it, anxiety prickling at your scalp as you laid there. You could probably slip back in without him realizing it, but you were cemented into the mattress, your mind running a million miles an hours until you finally fell asleep. 

SATURDAY

[sondepoch]

Chapter 4

Hearts on Three (Satan x Reader)

The athlete and the nerd. The rich kid and the scholarship student. The girl who will constantly joke about breaking your knee caps and the boy who will actually do it. There are so many ways to describe your relationship with Satan. Too many, if you’re being honest. He’s your best friend. The smartest tutor you’ve ever had. He also spends thousands of dollars for you at the drop of a hat and holds your hand when you’re feeling down. And in the beginning, that's okay. Neither of you let yourselves get bogged down by labels, both of you content to just savor this newfound friendship. But deeper feelings always have a way of complicating things. And for better or for worse, you and Satan are no exception.

01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | ✎

MASTERLIST

“Bro, you good?”

Satan blinks the sleep from his eyes at the feeling of a pencil tapping against his shoulder, groggily turning to face the owner of the voice that tore him from his precious slumber.

“...bwha?” is the educated response Satan can come up with in his sleep-addled mind.

Solomon snorts.

“Dude, this is the third time you’ve fallen asleep in class this week.” The white-haired athlete grins. “Keep this up and I’m gonna score better than you on tomorrow’s test.”

“We have a…”

Satan groans inwardly. He has a test tomorrow? The blonde blinks up at the board. It takes a second for his vision to clear, but then it registers that he’s in math class, and everything else falls into place. A quick scan over the whiteboard confirms that Satan didn’t miss anything important, that the chapter the teacher is covering is something Satan taught himself roughly two years back, but the boy still groans to himself in frustration. He doesn’t like to sleep through class. Ever.

“Thanks for waking me up,” Satan mumbles to his friend when he glances at the clock. It seems that Solomon let him doze for nearly the entire period, opting to wake him up a mere minute before the bell should ring. 

“No problem. But seriously, I’ve never seen you slack this hard. You good?”

“I’m fine. I’m just tired because…” Satan trails off, hesitant to confess that the reason he’s so exhausted is because of you. No doubt, Solomon would read way too deeply into that—nope, wait, it looks like Solomon figured it out on his own from the shit-eating grin he’s now sporting.

“Ah, your future girlfriend, is it?” Solomon leans back in his chair, grinning. “The love life is rough, buddy. Make sure you’re using protection at night, though.”

Satan has never been more relieved to hear a bell ring.

“Would you lower your voice?” He growls when a couple of kids passing by give him weird looks. Satan glares hard at Solomon, but the latter gives a grand total of zero (0) shits.

“Sorry,” Solomon says in a voice that makes it all too clear that he’s not sorry.

Satan has never hated his schedule more than in the next moment when he realizes that Solomon is in his next class and that they can’t split ways. Worse yet, it’s Physical Education—the stupidest course of all time because all it consists of is kids walking in circles for an entire hour and being “encouraged” to run. And somehow, to top it off, Satan always ends up walking with Solomon. 

“We’re not together,” Satan grunts to his friend when they’re outside doing laps around the track. “It’s just that it’s fucking hard to balance club duties, her volleyball schedule, and my own studies.” 

“I totally get it,” Solomon blurts. “But you’ve gotta get used to it, bro. Imagine how much harder it’s gonna be to when the two of you start dating! You’ll have to take her out on dates, and—fuck—have you ever been to one of her games? She has crazy stamina, man. The two of you’ll be at it all night.”

Satan thinks back to freshman orientation, wondering why, of all the places to sit, he chose the seat next to the most annoying person in the entire academy. 

“Solomon, can you shut the fuck up?”

Solomon, unsurprisingly, does not shut the fuck up.

With enough difficulty, Satan does finally manage to steer the topic away from Solomon’s matchmaking attempts and towards more normal topics. Namely, Satan’s matchmaking attempts. Of course, just as Satan places no weight on Solomon’s opinions on his love life, Solomon completely ignores Satan’s advice to stop beating around the bush and just ask Asmo out, the athlete having the nerve to say “I’ll ask Asmo out when you ask our volleyball captain out”—as if you and Satan have a remotely similar history to Asmo and Solomon, who, as now known by the entire campus, are both desperately pining for each other but are too dumb to see it.

Satan sighs, shaking his head.

Idiots, he thinks. I’m surrounded by idiots.

It’s to this thought that Satan hears someone calling his name in the distance: an extremely familiar voice, almost grating on the ears, but a voice he knows he should not be hearing. 

Satan shakes his head, deciding that he’ll clear up his schedule today so he gets a nap in because surely, surely he must be imagining you calling his voice. Surely you’re not actually on this track field. Surely you’re not cutting English, of all courses, a subject that Satan insists you pay extra attention to because it’s the single course you're most likely to fail.

“Bro,” Solomon whispers, eyebrows raised in disbelief.

Satan closes his eyes, trying to see if pretending that he doesn’t hear your footsteps sprinting closer and closer towards him will make it so that they’re not real.

It doesn’t work.

“Satan!” You shriek, now close enough that he can’t pretend you’re a figment of his imagination anymore. “Satan! Satan, Satan, Satan!”

The blonde continues staring resolutely forward, committing himself to the ideology of I do not see it, therefore it is not happening.

Unfortunately, Satan sees it. And so it happens.

Without any warning whatsoever, you lurch forward and grapple on to Satan, wrapping your limbs around him like a literal koala as you yeet yourself onto him with enough force that Satan is just barely able to remain standing when you attach yourself to him while shrieking: ”Satan! Guess what, guess what!”

The blonde is at a loss for words, so dumbfounded and taken aback that it’s all he can do to sputter out a confused “w-what?” 

You grin at him with a smile so wide it looks like it hurts, and Satan can only stare as you reveal what made you so happy.

“I got an 85 on the Shakespeare test!” 

The Shakespeare test, the man thinks, trying to remember.

The Shakespeare test, he repeats in his mind, a vision of you cram-reading the final acts of King Lear flashing through his mind

The Shakespeare test! Satan realizes with a start, suddenly recalling how it was a test he expected you to fail.

Satan’s mouth drops open at that. He had been prepared for you to get a 20, a 30; the highest you told him to expect was a 60, and even that was below the fail margin, but an 85? Holy shit, Satan might cry if he got a grade like that, but for you, it’s a genuine accomplishment, and he’s fucking proud.

“You’re joking,” he blurts, already calculating how this will affect your average and, holy shit, it’s actually going to pull you up to a passing grade.

“I’m not!” you declare with so much happiness that it’s infectious, and then the two of you are hugging and laughing except that Satan’s literally carrying you so it’s awkward, but neither of you care because this is the highest grade you’ve pulled all year, and Satan is finally beginning to feel like the late hours and the sleepless nights are all worth it.

The two of you are grinning and beaming at each other even when you finally de-koala yourself from Satan and land on the ground; and it’s at this precise moment that Satan realizes just how many people are watching. 

The blonde clears his throat awkwardly. 

It felt so natural when you tackled Satan midair, but he’s now beginning to realize just how intimate that whole scene looked to any onlookers. He stiffens, and you seem to notice, your own demeanor turning sheepish in turn.

A low whistle from next to you diffuses the situation.

“An 85, huh?” Solomon slings an arm around your shoulder, sandwiching you between him and Satan as the three of you continue walking along the track field—effectively sending a message to anyone watching that the show is over. “Not bad, Captain, not bad.”

“It’s amazing, Solomon!” you cry out in turn, grinning as you lean into his shoulder. (Satan doesn’t feel weird when he sees that, he swears he doesn’t.) “I haven’t scored this high since, well, I dunno. I don’t really pay attention to the scores I get because they’re always so low!”

Solomon laughs at that, definitely remembering when he was the same way. 

“It’s all thanks to Satan, no?” Solomon prods, and the blonde shoots a sharp look at his friend. He’s up to something. Satan isn’t sure if he wants to know what.

“Oh, definitely! He literally read every single text out loud to me! I left this one book for the very last day, and he actually stayed with me and—”

“You need to get back to class,” Satan swiftly interrupts, his ears turning red. “You did well on one test, but you need to pay attention if you want to continue.”

“Oh, but—”

Satan practically shoves you away, gesturing wildly the whole time with a vigor that has you confused but compliant as you slowly depart, doubtlessly making your way back to the English building as slowly as you possibly can.

When you’re gone, Solomon snorts.

“You read to her?” He asks, expression brimming with mirth.

“It’s not—it’s an effective studying technique that we use to save time—”

“Oh my god,” Solomon mumbles under his breath, wiping a tear of mirth from his eye. “Next thing you know, I’ll find out that she’s sleeping on your shoulder or something. Seriously, Satan, way to make a move early on.”

Satan is incredibly grateful that Solomon doesn’t see how his face changes at that part, a flush rising on his cheeks when he realizes that you’ve fallen asleep on his shoulder not once, now, but several times. 

“Shut up,” Satan grumbles, trying to end the conversation as quickly as possible.

“No way, man!” Solomon cackles with laughter, finding great amusement in his friend’s frustration. “Oh my god, the two of you are so perfect for each other that it hurts! Here, take a look at this—”

Solomon pulls up his phone and opens up his Photo Gallery, swiping twice before handing it over to Satan.

“Just look at that, dude—” he gestures vaguely at the picture. “You two already look like you’re dating.”

Satan stares at the image, his feet slowing down. It’s a picture of you and Satan hugging, taken conveniently when you were still koala-ing Satan with your entire body because of course Solomon was able to get a picture that quickly, and although Satan can’t see either of your faces due to the side angle, even he has to acknowledge that the two of you really do look like a couple.

“It’s not like that,” Satan mumbles, shaking his head as he hands the phone back to Solomon. 

This might be the first time, though, that he actually entertains the thought of what it would be if it was like that.

It’s not a terrible thought.

You hate away-scrimmages for a lot of reasons.

The first reason is that, more often than not, the environment is hostile. The other team is always bound to have more support, more cheering, more motivation powering them forward while yours has nothing more than the girls on the bench and the loud voice of your coach. 

The second reason is that they always feel like a waste of time. Scrimmages, by nature, are meant to be an extension of practice. So what’s the point of a scrimmage if you spend more time driving to the school than you spend playing against the school? It’s totally backwards, in your opinion, and pretty stupid.

The third reason is the most compelling reason, though. And it’s probably because this is the issue you’re dealing with right now: the fact that at away-scrimmages, if there does happen to be someone from your school who puts in the time and effort to come watch, the pressure on your shoulders instantly triples. Scrimmages are supposed to be fun, enjoyable. They’re nothing more than practice matches to collect data and get ready for when you’ll go against the school for real—but when people from your school travel such a long distance to watch you play not even a game but a scrimmage, it feels like you owe it to them to bring home a win, to succeed, to make the match worth their while.

And while Satan doubtlessly had no intentions of adding to your stress when he asked to watch you play at today's scrimmage, that’s exactly what has happened.

“Listen, girls,” your voice is low as your team groups up in what will likely be the last huddle of the match. “I want us to win this. Really badly. Do what it takes, but bring home that victory.” You take a moment to recite the weaknesses of the other team, trying to downplay their skill and build confidence in your own teammates, but ultimately, you all know the truth. “It all comes down to how we play this point, girls, so let’s play our best.”

You glance around at your teammates, stealing a glance at the bleachers where Satan sits, watching the scrimmage.

You want to make him proud.

“Wolves on three: one, two, three—”

“Wolves!” your teammates echo, raising their fists as the lot of you split off into your serve receive positions.

As it stands, match point is weighing against you, and your team is at a heavy disadvantage. From what you’ve gathered on the opposing team, their libero is a literal legend when it comes to front row saves, and they have an amazing right-side hitter, one that easily rivals your own skill. This entire game, their team has been leading, but all your team needs to secure victory is a measly three points, three points that you know you can obtain if you try hard enough.

You crouch low, getting ready for the opposing team’s serve.

The first two points are easy for your team to get: the first point comes when the opposing team’s outside hitter rams the ball into the net, and the second comes when your team's right-side hitter manages a clean hit through a line of defense that jumped a second too late.

The final point, as always, is the hardest to get.

It just so happens that it’s your serve, so you consciously aim at what you think is the weakest link in the opposing team, but they’re able to recover. From then on, it’s an intense volley back and forth until it’s just you versus the right-side hitter, #18, the two of you fighting it out in a rhythmic contest of pass-set-hit that just won’t end.

It’s at this time that you feel the pressure beating down on you heavier than ever before. More than anything, you want to win. Not just because you’re naturally competitive, not just because you really fucking hate #18 right now (seriously, what business does she have being as good as you?), but because you know that Satan is watching. 

You really, really, really want to bring home a win for him.

It’s to this thought that you set the ball over on the first touch, sabotaging the flow of the game and ruining the other team’s momentum. 

It happens in slow motion as the ball falls, slowly, slowly.

The entire room seems to hold its breath as three girls on the opposing team, #18 included, all pancake-dive for the ball. Sensing their success, you bend your knees, preparing for the ball’s return.

It never comes.

The blow of the ref’s whistle is surreal, almost as faraway as the subsequent cheers of your own team, so empty and distant as they instantly group up for a team tackle—but for the first time, you don’t join them. 

Instead, you’re left staring up at Satan who, from his spot on the bleachers, is grinning down at you with a proud look on his face.

You don’t think you’ve ever been so happy to win a scrimmage. 

Everything else passes by in a blur. Your team regroups and changes out of your uniforms, and the lot of you board the bus that’s set to bring you back to the Royal Academy of Barbatos. 

You, however, stay back.

“I’ll get a ride from my tutor,” you tell your coach, bidding farewell to your friends. 

The man arches an eyebrow at you, asking once and then twice if you’re certain you don’t want to stay with the team, but you nod your head. 

Weird, you think as you go to find Satan, who’s waiting for you at his car. This must be the first time I’ve prioritized someone else over the team.

You decide not to dwell on that thought. 

Instead, you choose to think about how sick Satan’s ride is.

“Oh my god,” you mumble, gawking as soon as you see the car. “Satan, I knew you were loaded, but I had no clue you were this loaded.”

Satan laughs at your reaction, grinning when you can do nothing but stand and stare at the sheer beauty of it: a slick, black Bugatti with a single green stripe down the middle. 

“Oh, it’s beautiful,” you coo, marveling at the interior when you slide into the passenger seat and slug your volleyball bag unceremoniously in the back. “Satan, I think I like this car better than I like you.”

The blonde gives a short laugh, rolling his eyes as he gets inside next to you. “I’ll let you drive it someday,” he offers.

You’re quick to decline, shuddering to think about how many more sports scholarships you’d need to ever pay such a thing off if you were to crash it. 

Satan can only smile at that, mumbling something under his breath that you can’t hear.

“Your match was amazing, by the way,” he says before you can probe him about what he said. “It looked really intense. It’s impressive that you were able to keep a level head even at the end.”

You don’t tell Satan that your head wasn’t level, that you were practically dizzy with fear from the possibility of losing in front of him.

“It comes with practice,” you instead choose to say. “Something we’ve gotta do tonight!”

“Please tell me you’re joking.”

You shoot Satan an innocent smile in response.

“Your match lasted a good hour, and I saw you practicing with your team before your bus left.” Satan shakes his head, a frown beginning to spread across his lips. “You’re going to destroy your muscles if you try to do any more. Even you need to rest.”

“Yeah, but resting is boring.” You lean back in your seat and stare at your palms. “Besides, that scrimmage was way too close for comfort. Didn’t you see number eighteen? She was, like, really good. If both our teams make it to the state tournament, we’re going to have a lot of trouble dealing with her unless we practice like crazy until then.”

“Exactly,” Satan says. “Your team needs to practice, not you. The best thing you can do for them is relax and make sure you don’t overexert yourself.”

“But don't you want to reward me for getting a good grade on my Shakespeare test?” A smile curls onto your lips because you know that's something Satan has been thinking about. “Come on, just a few balls? It’ll be quick, I promise. I just want to try a few moves out.”

Satan lets out an exasperated sigh that lets you know he’s agreeing.

“Yes!” You exclaim, resisting the urge to jump out of your seat and hug him because he probably won't be as inclined to help you if you make him crash his car. “Thank you so much, Satan! I won’t be long, I promise!”

The blonde doesn’t say anything to that, sighing softly as he switches his destination from the student parking lot to the on-campus gym you usually conduct your practice sessions in. It takes a while, but when the two of you get there, the spot Satan pulls into is far from the doors. It's a necessity since all the other spots are taken, but it makes you raise an eyebrow because this is the first time you’ve seen this gym even remotely filled up.

You nudge Satan out of his car regardless.

“Alright, so today I want you to make my tosses higher than normal. Number eighteen was taller than me, so I’ll need to increase my jump height if I want to be able to break past her defense.” You pull him to the door, wasting no time to get inside. “And don’t worry if your tosses aren’t perfect! It’ll be good practice for...for when…”

Your train of thought is disrupted when you see how packed the gym is.

“Damn,” Satan mumbles next to you, frowning. 

There must be some kind of athletic event coming up. That's the only explanation you can think of for the picture in front of you. As it stands, there are tons of students inside this gym, everyone practicing their own sport. It’s ridiculous, honestly, because even sports that are traditionally outdoors are practicing inside. You can see Solomon leading his soccer team through a few drills on the far side of the court, taking up one half of one of the six nets set up in the gym.

“They must be here because it’s so muddy outside. All the outdoor sports are practicing inside.” Satan crosses his arms. “Let’s come back tomorrow. You’re not going to be able to get an effective practice in.”

“No!” you immediately exclaim, if only because you see a group of people setting up to leave. “Look, we can take that side of the court. Let’s go! I don’t want someone else to get there first.”

It’s a bit harder to find a spare cart of volleyballs than it was to find a spot to practice, but after checking enough supply rooms, you finally find what you’re looking for. After that, it takes you all of two minutes to wheel the cart over to Satan where you present your findings to him proudly.

“Shouldn’t you stretch first?” He frowns. “I don’t want you to get injured.”

“Come on, Satan. I just came back from a match! My muscles are all loosened up, so let’s get straight into it! The faster we can get this done, the faster we can return to the dorm, so let’s hurry!”

The boy doesn’t look wholly convinced, but he acquiesces to your request nonetheless, throwing you a toss higher than usual as you jump to slam it down.

It’s only once the two of you have returned to your usual rhythm that you begin to feel the stretch in your thighs, and for a moment, you stop to consider the fact that it might have been better if you’d stretched after all, but you ultimately decide that you’ve already started so there’s no point in stopping.

The practice whizzes by, as usual. It's almost pitiful how quickly the end of it nears.

“Three more balls,” Satan says, glancing at the number of balls left in the cart. “Then we go back, alright?”

“Sure thing!” you exclaim with pride, the familiar sense of satisfaction after a practice session well-done setting in.

Satan tosses you the third-last ball, and your feet begin following it as soon as it leaves his fingers. Your feet follow a familiar pattern—left, right, left, jump!—and you force yourself to put in a little bit of extra power to increase the height of your jump, letting your palm collide with the ball just a few inches beneath the peak of the arc to let it slam onto the court at an angle so steep that even a reinforced defense wouldn’t have been able to save it.

“Perfect!” you shout the moment your feet land on the floor. “Two more like that, and we’re set!”

Even Satan can’t hold off a smile at that.

Already in-tune with you, he doesn’t bother asking if you’re ready before throwing the next ball into the air. 

Again, you go through the motions that have been ingrained into your muscle memory since you were eight years old. The sting of pain against your palm is familiar, too familiar, and you’re still high in your jump when the ball spikes down onto the floor.

What isn’t familiar is the immediate calls of concern from across the court.

Everything seems to happen in slow motion.

You turn your head to the source of the noise, the loud group of soccer players who are on the far side of the gym and are all shouting to watch out. You stare at them in confusion for a moment, squinting to look for what they're all pointing at, because right now you don’t see anything to watch out for, and why—

Your eyebrows furrow.

Why are they all looking at you?

That thought is the only warning you get before your feet land—and the first thing you realize is that you landed way too early, that you should have been in the air for longer given the height of your jump. That’s when you realize that you haven’t landed, that your foot is instead twisting on top of a soccer ball that’s rolled directly underneath you.

Your hands go out to catch yourself when you fall, but there’s nothing you can do about the swell of pain that bursts from your ankle when the soccer ball pops out from underneath you.

There’s a moment of trepidation, a single second where your body is completely suspended in the air, and the gym is silent.

In that quiet moment, you hear Satan call out your name in a terrified voice.

Then, the ground collides with you and hard, and there’s nothing you can do as the pain you’d been feeling earlier blossoms out from all parts of your body.

MASTERLIST

01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | ✎

Word count: 4.2k

Notes: ive returneddd :D this chapter is dedicated to the vball captain who, in my freshman year of high school, injured herself. her injury was more dramatic, given that it was way more severe and it was during an important match, but irene, i carry you in my heart <3

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Thank you for reading <3

I do not own the rights to Obey Me! or any of the characters within it.

[vintagedolan]

sweet creature (egd)

ethan hates when he has to leave you for even a few days, so when he gets back, he has a little surprise planned

word count: 4.3k

warnings/tags: fluff, and then some smut to round it out WOO we goin through it today ladies and gents, harry styles (music) is involved :) 

dedicated to my bruna bby ( @ethanhes​ ) who is so strong and the sweetest girly I know. I love you!!

feel free to send in requests! and check out my masterlist if you wanna :)

Like hell you were gonna make another trip - you slid the last grocery bag onto your arm, ignoring how they were digging into your skin as you started your walk into the house. If anyone had watched you try to navigate your way in the door, it probably would have been quite the sight. But you succeeded, emerging into an empty kitchen, heaving the heavy bags up onto the counter.

Usually, you’d yell down the hall, summon the boys to help you unpack. But it would be futile - no one was home. Not even Sterling was around - the three of them were off on Wakeheart business, at the factory in Arizona where everything was actually produced so they could approve all the candle production.

You’d gotten a few pictures from the trip - bright colorful sunsets, Grayson and Sterling smiling from across the table at breakfast. But your favorites were the stupid little selfies he kept sending. Your phone buzzed in your pocket as if on cue.

Another snapchat from Ethan, this time of him with a metal straw trapped between his teeth and big smile on his face. Adorable, as always. 

cold brew mood. miss you x was the caption that flitted across the screen. You screenshotted it just in time. The next buzz was a text from him.

:(

why you screenshot

cause you looked cute

send me one back, I miss you

You rolled your eyes at that, deciding to make him wait for a minute while you started to put the groceries away. You’d only unpacked two bags before your phone buzzed again.

hey

show me ur face

omg gimme a minute 😂

im putting away the obscene amount of oat milk I just bought

DID THEY HAVE THE GOOD KIND

yep. bought three cartons

holy shit I love you

gray says he loves you too 

but I love you more

You sent him a quick snapchat to appease him, unsurprised when you got the notification that he’d screenshotted it. He always got like this when he was away - even more clingy than usual, constantly wanting to communicate with you somehow. You had to admit, you loved the idea that you were always on his mind when he wasn’t with you, even if it did mean you felt like you were constantly on your phone.

what else are you doing today?

idk might lay out by the pool for a while

without me? 😔

you should go shopping

You frowned at your phone, looking at the few boxes of pasta you had left to put away before you typed back with a huff.

I literally just got back from the grocery what do u mean

not that kind of shopping

fun shopping. like for clothes

The thought was tempting - with everything going on, you hadn’t gotten anything new in months. To be fair though, you hadn’t really needed anything new - you were just hanging around the house anyways. 

do you want me to go so I’ll stop wearing all your clothes

yes

kidding baby you know I don’t care. but you should get some new stuff, you deserve it! just use my card

I hate using your card

It wasn’t a lie. Ethan had gotten you a credit card linked to his personal account for emergencies almost six months ago, and you’d only used it a handful of times when he insisted. You never wanted him to ever think that you cared about him for his money. 

I’d be buying whatever you find if I was there, it’s the same thing

You grinned to yourself, plan already hatching. He didn’t say what you had to buy. You’d just get something small - a pack of socks, or a basic tee - with his card, and pay for the rest of it yourself. 

alright alright, fine

But his next text had you rolling your eyes. He knew you too well.

and you have buy real clothes. like at least one dress

Even though he wasn’t there to see it, your eyes squinted in accusation. 

why a dress?

you’re being sus what’s this about

you’re so stubborn holy shit. I was gonna buy you dresses for the harry concert so I want you to pick some out for yourself

Damn. You’d almost forgotten that the concert was supposed to be that night. Ethan had bought the two of you tickets back when they went on presale, using his connections to get the two of you amazing seats. E had been almost as bummed as you when it got postponed, disappointed that the night he’d had planned for you had fallen through.

it got rescheduled to august baby, we can go shopping then!

i’m impatient

omg really? I had no idea 

just go buy some dresses and send me pictures. we’re back at the factory, gotta go. I love you!

love you too!

Knowing that if you sat down you probably wouldn’t get back up, you turned back to the door with a sigh, grabbing your keys and wallet from where you’d just stowed them, heading back out to the car.

You climbed into Ethan’s Tesla, hitting your preset button on the door so the seat moved forward to where you could reach the pedals. He always insisted you take his car if he couldn’t drive you, always wanting you to be the safest you could be. It was still a bit intimidating to drive something so expensive, but you did it anyways, heading to the mall that housed most of your favorite stores with your mask on.

It turned out to be one of those days where nothing caught your eye. You really looked, scoured through the racks, hoping to find anything that looked remotely appealing or like your style. You even tried on a few that you had hopes for, but they were a bust. 

Feeling defeated you stopped for a while and got some coffee, sitting and people watching as everyone passed in their masks. Your eyes wandered to another store, one you rarely went into - it catered to your style perfectly, but everything was far out of your price range. 

But looking couldn’t hurt. Right?

That backfired as soon as you walked in, smelled that perfect fragrance that seemed to dust all the soft fabrics in the place. 

Before you knew what you’d done, you had so many options thrown over your arm that it was starting to ache. 

You stopped looking, headed to a dressing room to try and narrow down your search. Some of them were automatic no’s, the cut not flattering or the color clashing with the undertones in your skin.

But there were three winners - a tight green one that hugged your curves, a casual denim overall number that would look adorable with the right shirt, and a blue sundress that tied into a bow at the back, the fabric brushing your upper thighs.

You snapped pictures in each one, knowing Ethan would help you decide. Your bet was on the green one - he was a man, after all. But his response just made you roll your eyes.

you look hot as fuck

buy all three

no

yes

they’re expensive

I didn’t ask how much they cost. You like them all. therefore, you buy them all

it’s simple really

ethan

y/n

just tell me which one is your favorite please

if you don’t buy all three i’m just gonna go back and buy them for you later

or I’ll order them and have them shipped to the house

stop

getting online now 😌

stop it

placing an order 😌 😌

ethan grant

last chance

fine

im sticking my tongue out at you. you can’t see it but I am

ouch, im hurt

are you headed home after you buy them?

well I’m sure as hell not spending anymore money, so yeah. why?

just wondering where my girl’s gonna be. drive safe. you took the tesla right?

of course I did.

good. hurry home. but don’t hurry too much. safety first

You quirked an eyebrow at the last text - he was being so odd. He’d only been gone for two days, usually it wasn’t this bad for him. Who knew what he’d be like tomorrow before he got home.

Changing back into your clothes in a hurry, you put your rejects out on the return rack and carried your three choices to the register, trying not to listen to the total before you put Ethan’s card in the reader. 

You left the mall swiftly after that, trying to ignore the eyes on you. In reality, no one was probably looking at you, but you felt like everyone was staring as you carried your expensive bag and got in a fucking tesla. You never understood how Gray and E could walk around with such expensive things and not be fazed in the slightest. 

The drive home took longer than you would have liked considering the traffic you got caught in, but you just turned your music up, humming along as you crawled down the road towards your exit. When you finally got there you let the tesla take over, pulling you off the interstate and starting down the smaller roads that led to the house. 

Your first clue was when the song changed. At first you didn’t think much of it - you had every Harry song saved to your library, it wasn’t unusual for one to come up. 

But then, one verse into Fine Line, it skipped, the intro of Two Ghosts starting. 30 seconds later? Falling started to play through the car. 

“What the fuck?” You muttered, quickly switching off autopilot, afraid that the car may be glitching. It was only a few more minutes until you got to the house, and in that time the song switched again twice, all Harry songs. 

When you pulled into the driveway and put the car in park, your phone buzzed with your second clue.

welcome home baby

omg are you watching the cameras? that’s creepy as fuck

also the tesla just got super weird but I swear I didn’t fuck up your car

just come inside

You obliged, grabbing your bag and heading into the house.

Clue number three was that the pasta boxes you’d left on the counter were gone, put away no doubt on the shelf that you couldn’t reach. You froze.

Someone was in the house.

You only had a moment to be scared before Ethan appeared around the corner, your favorite grin adorning his face.

“Boo.”

You dropped the bag, running the few steps it took to get to him before you threw your arms around him, breathing him in as he hugged you to him tightly. 

“You guys weren’t supposed to be home until tomorrow!”

“Caught an early flight so I could surprise my girl. Gray and Ster are still in Arizona.” He leaned back so you could look at him, shrugging as if it was no big deal that he’d cut his trip short just to come home to see you.

“Didn’t you have stuff you needed to do?” 

“No, we knocked it out today.”

“Then why didn’t Grayson come ba-”

His lips were on yours then, catching your words as he kissed you hard, a hand coming up to your cheek, thumb running over your cheekbone. “Are you gonna keep asking me questions, or are you gonna let me actually surprise you.”

“There’s more?” The butterflies that only he could bring fluttered in your stomach, and you bit your lip, looking up at him. He leaned down past you, reaching for the bag you’d dropped, placing it back in your hands.

“Maybe. Go put on one of your new dresses, then come out back.” He pressed a quick kiss to your lips before he let go. “Hurry.”

“Okay!” You were practically giddy as you hurried back to Ethan’s room, laying the dresses out on the comforter and trying to decide on one. It took a few minutes, a few switches of holding them up to you in the mirror before you settled on the blue sundress, situating the big sewed bow in the middle of your back. It had a built in bra that was surprisingly comfortable, making it the easiest choice.

Shoving your dresses back in the bag, you didn’t even bother with shoes. You just headed straight for the backyard - but you froze in the living room, taking in the sight through the doors.

The sun was setting on the horizon, painting the sky a baby purple, the clouds a pop of pink as they floated, scattered around. The city was starting to light up below you, and the moon hung high above it. But your eyes were on something - someone - entirely different. 

Ethan was standing in the grass, wearing one of his nice pairs of shorts and a short sleeve patterned button down - you hadn’t even noticed his outfit earlier, you’d been too excited to see him. He was holding a bouquet of sunflowers in his hands, the petals bright yellow even in the dim light.  

He caught sight of you through the glass and immediately hid the flowers behind his back as he stood up straight and smiled like a guy coming to the front door to pick you up for prom.

You pulled the door open, stepping out into the cool California air. It felt almost cold against your flushed cheeks as Ethan looked you up and down, letting out a low whistle.

You just laughed, stopping a few steps in front of him and waiting for whatever he had planned. 

He whipped the flowers around with a grin, holding them out for you with one hand, leaving his other arm tucked behind him. “Happy concert night!”

What you didn’t see was the remote in his other hand. He clicked it with his thumb, and the whole back yard lit up. There were twinkling christmas lights lining the roof and wrapping around the tree to the side of the house. He’d brought out Grayson’s projector and pointed it at a white sheet he’d hung up - you watched it for a moment, laughing when you realized it was projecting a slideshow of the pictures you two had taken together over the last year. And finally, you noticed the speakers had turned on, starting to play one of your favorite songs. Sweet Creature.

“E-”

“I know it got rescheduled, and we’ll have so much fun when we go. But, I still wanted to make tonight special. So, it’s kinda just date night, but... Harry Styles edition?” 

Closing the gap with a few steps you threw your arms around his neck, flowers and all, so you could kiss him. 

“I love you so much,” were the only words you could find, and you hoped he knew how much you truly meant them.

“Love me enough to dance with me?” 

You froze at that - you weren’t much of a slow dancer, and Ethan had even less experience than you did. But the thought of staying so close to him made your heart flutter, so you nodded, letting go for a moment so you could sit the flowers down safely in the grass.

He pulled you back into his arms, hands settling on your waist as yours went around his neck. His fingertips ghosted over the bare skin on your back below the bow, sending shivers up your spine. 

It didn’t matter that Sweet Creature was a tiny bit fast for a slow dance - the two of you weren’t doing more than swaying back and forth anyways, foreheads touching, totally lost in each other. 

He spun you a few times, even throwing in a little dip that made you both laugh before he kissed you, leaving you a bit breathless when he pulled you back up to standing. 

“You bring me home,” he sang, slightly off pitch and so quiet you could barely hear, but it was so sweet that it even brought a few tears to your eyes. You blinked them away so you could see his face as you both smiled. 

The energy picked up a bit as the songs continued to shuffle, Carolina coming on next. You both jumped around hand in hand, looking like total idiots you were sure, stomachs sore from laughing at and with each other by the end. You paused a few times throughout the next songs to watch the slideshow, laughing at some of the pictures he’d chosen, remembering the stories behind them.  

When Sunflower came on, Ethan opened his arms again for a dance and you quirked an eyebrow.

“You know, Mr. Styles doesn’t have as many romantic songs as I thought he did. This one’s not bad though,” Ethan mumbled as the two of you swayed back and forth quickly, spinning around and around.

“This song isn’t even romantic, it’s about him missing his ex,” you explained.

“You analyzed those lyrics hard huh.”

“Oh don’t act like you haven’t dissected every Cudi song five times over.” You squinted your eyes at him in accusation and he just laughed.

“Touché, touché. Maybe the sunflowers weren’t the best Harry related gesture then huh.”

“I still think they’re beautiful,” you reassured him. 

“Thought it would kinda be weird to give you a watermelon. Though, I guess that would have sent a much clearer message.” 

The mischief in his eyes told you he knew exactly what that song was about.

“A little on the nose, don’t yah think?” You scrunched up your nose at him as if to prove your point. He reached out for your hand and you laced your fingers with his.

“Never.” 

And then he was walking, half pulling half guiding you back into the house, through the glass doors, down the hallway, into the bedroom. Your skin was hot, partially from the change in temperature, partially from the hands that were wandering over your skin as soon as the door was closed.

Ethan’s hands traced down your arms, fingertips over skin, then over fabric when he got to your waist, further down to your thighs and then you were gasping as he found his way under your skirt. His hands spread out, large and commanding over your ass, resting there for a moment, squeezing before he moved north, fingers hooking into your panties, guiding them down until they fell off and you could step out of them. 

Your fingers found the buttons of his shirt, blindly undoing them as he kissed you. You found yourself pausing, hands tracing over the new yet familiar skin that revealed itself with each one you managed to loosen until finally, finally it was open and you could push it off his shoulders. 

His hand found the bow, roughly starting to tug until you reached back and caught him.

“Baby don’t pull. It’s sewed, it doesn’t come undone,” you cautioned, barely pulling back, unwilling to put any space between the two of you. 

“Stupid,” he grumbled, pouting a bit until he realized that he could pull the fabric off your shoulders, freeing your chest. He hummed a bit in satisfaction, hands moving to squeeze your tits, and then he was kissing them, sinking lower, lower until his knees hit the floor.

“Oh fuck,” you squeaked, knowing exactly what was about to happen. 

Ethan looked up at you from his knees with a teasing grin and a quirked eyebrow, waiting for your permission. You nodded, trying to breathe as his hands ghosted up your thighs, up to your hips. 

And then he ducked his head so he could get under the fabric of your skirt, ready to get to work.

Your knees buckled as soon as you felt him, tongue warm and flat against you. One of his hands came down, tracing over your skin until he got to your calf, lifting it just barely and pushing it out to widen your stance.

You whimpered as he sped up, his satisfied hums adding to the sensation in a way that had your legs starting to shake already. Your hands dropped to his head, and you pushed the fabric off the top of it so you could get to his hair, tugging. It just made him go harder, burying himself deeper. You folded forward, bracing on his shoulders, overwhelmed as you alternated holding you breathe and gasping for air, squirming.

“E, Ethan stop, my legs are gonna give out, wait,” you gasped, pulling on his hair. 

He paused, ducking out from under your dress and smiling up at you, lips swollen and pride booming.

“That’s the best compliment you’ve ever given me I think. But I’m not done yet, lay down.” 

You did as he said, turning around and climbing onto the middle of the bed before collapsing onto your back, rolling over and looking for him. Ethan was one second behind you, crawling above you to hover over you then duck down to kiss you hard yet somehow sweet at the same time.

It was instinct to reach down to his waist, let your fingers ghost over his waistband, tuck underneath it in a blind search. He sucked in a breath through his teeth when you wrapped your fingers around the tip. He shook his head at you, making you pout.

“Tonights about you, not me.”

“But I want to.”

“Raincheck. Best fucking raincheck ever, but raincheck. Just lemme take care of you.” 

He kisses you until you forget your argument - you’re putty in his hands as his lips trail back down. He pushes all the fabric of your dress together so it’s just a band around your tummy and then he picked up where he left off.

“Fuck E, just like that, oh god.” You were squirming again in a matter of moments, his stubble rough against your thighs as he worked you over. He felt your body tense up under his hold, smiling as he gave it all he had, giving that extra little push that sent you tumbling, clenching, writhing over the edge. 

He peppered kisses to your thighs as you caught your breath, and then he reached up, fists closing around all the fabric of your dress.

“Lift your hips up,” he instructed, waiting for you to bridge up so he could wiggle the dress off over your hips. He tossed it towards the closet, moving back up towards your face, bed dipping down with his weight.

“No fair,” you pouted, reaching down to tug at his shorts and boxers. 

“And I’m the impatient one.” 

He stood back up off the bed, quickly shoving down the clothing he had left and stepping out of it. 

“Much better.” You grinned wide when you saw he was blushing at your words. “C’mere.” 

He happily listened, crawling back above you and dropping a bit of his weight down as he sunk to his forearms. 

“So missionary is the way to your heart huh? So vanilla.” He bumped his nose against yours.

“You have a pretty face, sue me,” you laughed, bringing your hands up to his neck and pulling him down for a kiss as he dropped his hips, searching for just a moment before he pushed inside. 

You’d lost count of how many times the two of you had been just like this, intertwined and enthralled with each other, but you knew you’d never get tired of it as long as you lived.

“I love you.” It came out as a breath when he bottomed out, his lips resting on your shoulder, back curled up at an angle that let you feel every muscle, every ridge of his body. 

“I love you. You’re my dream, you know that?” He started to rock his hips, unwilling to go too far from you as you clung to his back, relishing in the feeling of him on you, in you, all around you. 

This would always be your favorite way to be with him - sweet and soft, just your bodies together, nothing else. You couldn’t think of anything better.

He shifted just barely, thrusting in at a different angle. You knew he was searching, and you gasped when he brushed against your g spot, your whole body shuddering.

“There she is,” he whispered, a prideful grin on his face as he hit it over and over. Watching you come undone below him would always be one of his favorite views. “Look at me baby, I wanna see you.” 

You did your best in your blissed out state to listen to him, turning your head from where it had fallen against the pillow to look at him while he picked up pace. Your legs curled around his back, holding him to you, urging him as deep as he could go as you chased the orgasm that was building in your gut.

He stared at you for a few moments, and then as if he couldn’t help it he ducked down to kiss you, open mouthed and rough as he pulled his hips back, thrusting forward with more force than he’d used yet. 

“Oh fuck Ethan, fuck,” you moaned, holding onto him for dear life. When he snaked one hand between the two of you to find your clit, you were done for. 

His breath caught in his throat as you clenched around him and you heard the whimpers through your cloudy haze, mixtures of pleasure and your name as he came undone, hip stuttering and then stopping when he finally hit his high. 

Once he’s caught his breath he rolls the both of you over so you’re resting on his chest, listening to his heart rate settle back down under your ear. 

“I’m so glad you came home early,” you sighed, hugging his bare torso as he chuckled.

“Me too baby. Me too.”

[anotheronechicagobog]

Bulletproofness and Playing God Jay Halstead x reader

written by: @anotheronechicagobog​

requested by @confusedpimp​, I hope you like it!

warnings: swearing, addiction, Hannah Asher is NOT porprayed well in this you have been warned, malpractice, emergency c-section complications, involves Chicago Med episode ‘Do No Harm’, police being idiots and assholes, warrants served incorrectly, drugs, drug dealers, bad neighbourhood created by systematic oppression and gentrification, Will is a prick with issues, and canon compliant violence

A/N: I am very sympathetic and supportive of people who have addictions because not only are there a tone of genetic factors that weigh in on it, but environmental factors that most people have very little to no control over. That being said, I am strongly against people with addictions working in healthcare, first responding, and/or law enforcement who spend most of their time with vulnerable people who don’t have much of a choice about whether to trust them or not. If someone works in an area where they have someone’s life in their hands they cannot be addicted to a substance that will control their ability to make judgements, affect how/their ability to work, and function as a whole.

In the past eight months, a warrant has been served to your apartment twenty-one times. You haven’t done anything wrong, the name on the warrants was always for your upstairs neighbour, did this make being woken up and the fucking crack of dawn and being interrogated (sometimes arrested) any easier? Not even a fucking bit. So you weren’t surprised when at 3:28 am, your door was busted open (again), heard shouts of “Chicago PD!” (again), and heard your house being “cleared” (again). You groaned and sat up, holding your hands up. Your bedroom door was thrown open with a bang. “I am unarmed, Marcus Evans lives in the apartment upstairs, and I have no association to him.” In the blandest voice possible, you recited the statement the legal aid at your university wrote you. “Uh... Sorry? Hey, Sarg, I think I’ve figured out why there were so many unsuccessful warrants on this place.” The blonde man was still pointing a gun at your head, but more members of his unit came to surround him.   

“Can I put my hands down now? I have documents that prove I am innocent, that the warrant was served to the wrong address, again, and that the only connection I have to Marcus Evans is that he is my annoying upstairs neighbour.”

They all sheepishly looked at you. The Latina woman spoke up, “the apartment is clear of anything even remotely illegal. Well, aside from the power lines attached to her box outside that show that her neighbours have been stealing power and internet from her.”

‘Sarg’, an older man with silver hair with a surprised look on his face nodded. “Alright, put ‘em down and get us the papers.”

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

Despite all the evidence that the warrant wasn’t meant for you, they still insisted on taking you down to the station. You refused since they couldn’t arrest you and had no grounds to hold you on, and Sergeant Voight did not like that. “I’m too tired to give a shit about what you want. I have three jobs, student loans, and university to deal with. The only things of value in my apartment are my crappy laptop and internet access. The only time I am ever here is to sleep. You already disturbed what little sleep I was able to get, and I have work in... Forty-five minutes. Just great. Please leave, and can one of you, for the love of all things holy put a note in the system that this is NOT Marcus Evans’ apartment?!” Everyone flinched at your outburst, all looking both sympathetic and annoyed except for Detective Halstead, he just looked very sad for you. “Of course,” he said as he handed you a business card, “if you could call me when you have time, we have some pretty important questions.” Sargent Voight shot him a look, one that clearly said ‘what the fuck are you doing? That’s not your call.’ “Okay. Now seriously, please leave.” Irritated and muttering under their breath, barring Halstead who gave you a smirk and a wink, they all left stepping over the splinters of the door you replaced three weeks before.

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

The next day after entering your sparsely decorated apartment, dropping dead on your bed/couch, you heard the distinctive sounds of a door being broken down, followed by the police announcing themselves, and an apartment being searched... Above yours. They finally got the right apartment! Despite the ache in your muscles and bones, you jumped up and cheered. Complete and utter elation surrounded you and your soul. A few minutes into your dancing and celebrating there was a knock on the door. Smiling brighter than you had in years you answered the door. “Good morning detective!”

“Well, good morning to you too, Ms. Y/L/N. You’re in a much better mood.”

“To be fair, you guys busted into my apartment at three in the morning, again, and I just heard everything that happened upstairs, you guys finally got the right apartment!”

“Hey, we never served more than one warrant here.”

“Your unit only served one, but your brothers in blue served twenty-one. Destroying property, unlawful arrest, causing severe anxiety, and just general harassment for eight months. The only reason I didn’t move was because I couldn’t afford to. I’m just happy it’s over now, I’ll never have a  Marcus Evans warrant served at my apartment again!” Halstead looked happy when you opened the door and your conversation began, but when you finally took a breath you noticed how guilty he looked. “I’m sorry.” He whispered, looking like he was in physical pain, before he nodded at you and walked away, leaving you feeling incredibly confused.

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

Two days later you returned from two ten-hour shifts to Jay Halstead in front of your door. “Detective?”

“Please, call me Jay.”

“Alright, Jay, what are you doing here? Is everything okay with Marcus’s arrest?”

“Oh yeah, everything’s fine with that. I came here because of this.” He handed you a large manilla envelope. “What’s this?”

“Compensation. For everything that happened over the last eight months. And apartment listings in better neighbourhoods. Seriously, you need to get out of here, it’s way too dangerous.”

“Thanks for the advice, and the compensation, I’ll think about it. But it just might not be doable for me.”

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

You couldn’t afford to move, something that irked Jay to no end. So he came around often. Dropping by with coffee and Irish breakfasts. Sharing his Netflix password and watching B99 together. Driving you home from work or university when it was late. The days grew shorter, and your hours of work grew longer. Jay worried. About you. About the number of hours you worked. About how much university work you had. About your health, how much (or little, really) you slept and ate, how you didn’t see the doctor as often you should (ironic considering you were in med school), and about how you never took time to relax, always jumping from one task to the next. 

You slumped against the passenger seat of Jay’s truck, exhausted after working for thirty hours straight, ten at each of your jobs. “Okay, seriously, you can’t keep living like this. I have a spare room, I can get you a civilian job at my precinct. You are wearing yourself to the bone. Please, Y/N.”

“I get my residency assignment tomorrow. I quit today.”

“You did?”

“Yes.”

“All of them?”

“All three.”

“And you’ll move out of your apartment?”

“Nope.” Popping the ‘p’. Jay sighed and shook his head, before looking at your half-asleep form. “I’ll take you to the shithole you call a home.”

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TWO YEARS LATER

Jumping up and down you waited for Jay to open the door. The envelopes sitting on his coffee table glaring at you. You flopped onto his couch (that didn’t also double as a bed) and huffed impatiently. Fidgeting.

The door opened and you jumped up, startling your best friend. His cop/ranger instincts taking over. He stiffly dropped his jacket and yanked out his gun before aiming it for your head. Panic coursed through you, tightening your chest. Reflexively you put up your hands, not able to control the words that bubbled out of your throat. “I’m bulletproof... But please don’t shoot me.” Jay lowered his gun, laughing. “‘Bulletproof’? Really?”

“Hey, I panicked, shut up.”

“What’re you doing here, anyway? I thought you were taking another shift?”

“I was, but then Sarah’s plans fell through so she decided to take her shift back, plus I got my fellowship applications back!”

“Where did you get accepted?!”

“I don’t know I was waiting for you to get back to open them!”

“Well I’m here now, so open them!” 

“Okay, okay, here we go; Honolulu general, accepted, Seattle Grace, no, but they had a bomb blow up there recently so I’m not heartbroken, Chicago med, yes, and Miami Dade Memorial, yes. Okay 3/4, that’s great! What do you think?”

“Well I’m biased, so Chicago Med, but it would be fun to visit you in Hawaii.” 

“Hawaii is so expensive though, I’d probably have to have a part-time job to make rent.”

“In a decent apartment this time.”

“Two part-time jobs, then. So Hawaii is out, now Miami... It is hot there, beaches, the ocean, the food, but Miami Dade Memorial isn’t very prominent in the research department and the crime rate is awful in the part I’d need to live and work in. I mean I know isn’t a whole lot better but... It would feel a bit like moving from bad to worse, especially on my budget.”

“So that leaves Chicago...”

“It does, but I think I need to find a new place that’s closer to Med and filled with less dug dealers.”

“Please tell me this was a subtle way of asking if you can move in with me.”

“It wasn’t, but now that you bring it up, would that be okay?”

“YES! Oh thank fuck, you’re finally moving out of that rat’s nest! C’mon, let’s go get your stuff now!”

“But Jay I just paid this month’s rent-“

“Let’s gooooooooooo!”

——————————————————————————————————-

FOUR MONTHS LATER

Because your apartment was in such a “great location” (in the same building as three drug dealers) your landlord was willing to give half of your rent back. It had only taken you twenty-something minutes to pack your things and leave. Now you were starting your surgical OB/GYN fellowship, excited to not be working multiple jobs at once for the first time since you were twelve. While Jay’s brother, Will, worked at Med as well he worked in the ED while you worked in the gynecology unit and you were thankful you only had to work together for consults or in an all hands on deck situation because he could be a fucking prick. When you first met him years ago he spent two hours quizzing your medical knowledge, and he got annoyed when you got everything right and he couldn’t correct you. So when you got a consult from him your first week there, you were apprehensive. “Hey Y/N, treatment room four.”

“Thanks, Maggie.” You pushed back the curtain and were met with the sight of a pregnant woman clearly in immense pain and a frustrating ginger. “Dr. Asher is her OB but we can’t find her anywhere. She was on-call but I, and a couple of nurses, and her secretary have been blowing up her phone and we’ve got nothing back. This is her patient Sienna. She’s in a lot of pain but is refusing painkillers, you’ve been working with her a lot lately-“ You snorted. His facial expression hardened. “Just come out and say it Y/L/N.”

“First of all it’s doctor Y/L/N, second of all, I haven’t been ‘working’ with her, I’ve been taking care of ‘her’ patients because she’s almost never at work. She just cancels the appointments short notice and since these women are kind of on a timeline their appointments get reassigned to other doctors. She’s listed as their doctor on all the forms but she’s never even met half of them. Sienna is the only patient that Dr. Asher has seen more than once.” 

“Don’t talk about her like that, you don’t know-“

“That she’s an addict? The entire OB floor knows we just don’t have enough proof to do anything about it. And don’t get me wrong, I know that there’s a lot of genetic components to addiction and I would be sympathetic if she wasn’t responsible for multiple lives at a time on a daily basis.” You turned on your heel and entered the room, done with Will Halstead and his bullshit. “Hi Sienna, my name is Dr. Y/N Y/L/N, and I’ll be filling in for Dr. Asher, I understand that you don’t want any drugs and while that’s fine, if your condition gets bad enough we may have to intervene but we’ll do everything we can for you and your baby, okay?”

“Where’s Dr. Asher? I need her here, she understands!”

“Okay, we’re still trying to find her okay?”

—————————————————————————————————

“So I heard that you and my brother locked horns today.”

“Your brother is a prick.”

“I know that he is, I’m just wondering what happened this time.”

“He’s doing this weird ethical-puppy love-guilt trippy-Romeo and Juliet level of doomed-unnecessary drama-thing going on and it’s completely affecting how he treats his patients. We already had one loose cannon we couldn’t disarm, now we have another. It’s come to the point that I’m genuinely worried about the patients that come into Med, and I don’t know what to do.”

“I’m sorry, I wish there was something I could do.”

“Just try not to antagonize Will, okay? He’s more on edge and that makes him erratic, I would really appreciate it if you wouldn’t make it worse.”

“Okay. I’ll leave him alone.”

“Thank you. I’m starving, what should we do for dinner?”

“Vietnamese is on the way.”

“Have I told you how amazing you are today?”

“Yes, but I would love to hear it again.”

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

Dr. Asher’s medical negligence had finally caught up with her, and for once Will wasn’t even remotely involved. He and Asher were having one of their silent spats again when Asher dropped the ball, or baby rather, during an emergency c-section of a patient she misdiagnosed and mistreated because she was in need of a fix. The only reason the mother didn’t hemorrhage and baby didn’t crack his skull was because of your observations and quick reflexes. The baby was healthy and mom was recovering and you were fuming. After scrubbing out you approached the, understandably distressed, father and told him that on your best medical opinion he and his wife should file a malpractice suit for missing an easy and obvious diagnosis, screwing up a routine surgery, and almost killing his son seconds after he was born.

You met with him, his lawyer and Asher two days later in a conference room with Goodwin and Peter the Stressed Out Lawyer. You accused her of having an addiction. The father requested a drug test. Goodwin glared, you glared back. If she didn’t want it handled like this then she should have dealt with it months ago when you brought it up your second week at Med. She tried to approach you in the hall, condescension on the tip of her tongue when you levelled her with a glare so fierce it rivalled that of Godzilla. “You do not get to scold me like I am a child. I told you when I first got here that she has a problem. That she is a danger to everyone who comes into her care. That she is a danger to other doctors. That she is a liability. Do not bitch to me when I told a husband and father who almost his wife and son to her recklessness to sue. To get angry and fight back. Do not take that petty, catty, condescending tone with me because I went around you. You have absolutely no ground to stand on. Because. You. Were. Wrong.”

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

You were surprised you had a job to come back to the next day. So was a very pissed off and ‘heartbroken’ Will Halstead. He kept running around to your colleagues, badmouthing you, trying to get them to join in and turn on you, but that didn’t happen. They not only agreed with you but rallied around you. Doctors are not gods. They do not get to ignore a patient’s wishes or act like they don’t have restrictions and limitations. It came to the point that Will told Jay he didn’t approve of you and that he had to dump you... Despite the fact that you weren’t dating.

Jay had rolled his eyes and pushed Will out of the apartment before giving you a hug and made you pancakes for dinner. “I’m sorry that I messed up your relationship with Will.”

“Don’t be. We’re brothers, we fight from time to time, and sometimes those fights are bigger than others and that’s okay. Will, well Halsteads in general, are pretty good at torpedoing any and all romantic relationships.”

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

“My parents only got married cause my mom got knocked up and fought non-stop, Will was and still is in love with Natalie but he was too controlling, secretive, and refused to tell her about Burke, and me... Lindsay and I were on a break before we left because my Vegas wife refused to divorce me and I didn’t tell her I had even been to Vegas.”

“Okay, so maybe it’s a little true, but it’s not because you’re bad people or  Even just saying ‘yes there’s something going on but I don’t feel ready to talk about it with you’ would go a long way. Cause all you Halstead guys say is that you’re fine but you never are and if you lie to yourself you lie to your partner.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. And tell Will when his head is surgically removed from Asher’s ass. You’ve seen that he follows her around like a puppy, right?”

“Yup, everyone on the OB floor has been talking about it nonstop since he started his whatever it was with Asher.”

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

EIGHT MONTHS LATER

Because of the suit, the hospital conducted an internal investigation in relation to Dr. Asher that pretty much everyone could confirm. Erratic behaviour and attendance, leaving other doctors to tend to her patients while keeping her name on the case files, and horrifying evidence of being high while working. Granted that had only happened twice and she literally just sat in her office staring at paperwork the whole time. Still, she was fired, the suit was settled, and Asher lost her license. You had destroyed her career and while there was a part of you that felt guilty, you knew that in the end she did the right thing. She refused help and kept carrying on in a way that would have been detrimental to more patients if other doctors hadn’t stepped in. Will still wasn’t talking to you and had started avoiding Jay recently because you two started dating.

Barring the tension from all the Will stuff, your relationship was doing well. You had great dates (both out and at the apartment), were radiating happiness together, and Jay was taking your words about communication to heart. Not once has the phrase ‘I’m fine’ dripped off of his lips. If he didn’t want to tell you something or was more comfortable talking about it with his therapist or Upton before you he’d let you know. Most times he would just talk about what was bothering him, even if it was only bullet points sometimes you both felt relieved that functional relationships were actually possible. 

You were on a date with Jay at your favourite Jamaican restaurant when you ran into Hannah Asher. She did not look pleased to see you and quite honestly you could have lived the rest of your life happily if you never had to see her again. After a few seconds of glaring at you and your boyfriend, an annoying ginger put his arm around her. “Hi Will. How are you?”

“My girlfriend and I are doing well Jacob.”

“Really Will? You’re using my whole name because my-”

“Okay, you know what? Let’s go our separate ways. It looked like you guys were just leaving, and we’re probably confusing our poor hostess. So let’s both just walk away.”

“You ruined my life.”

“Asher-”

“You took everything from me!”

“Do you have any idea how many patients you almost killed in your time at Med? Because I do, and it’s a triple-digit number. You shouldn’t have been practicing in your condition and you know it. So you need to drop the victim act and walk away.” You saw her face contort into complete and utter rage, then everything is hazy. There were lights, bright red ones, and screaming, you were pretty sure Jay was there, and there was... Copper? Why did your mouth feel like it was full of liquid pennies? There was gurgling, was there a baby? Were they okay? You tried to speak, get up, look around, but you were too tired. You were begging yourself to move, to do something, but it felt like your bones turned into melting iron.

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

You didn’t remember waking up, or falling asleep for that matter, you were just looking at the glass door and suddenly it came into focus. You didn’t even know how you got to the ED, what happened at the restaurant. Dr. Choi entered your room apprehensively. “Y/L/N? How are you feeling?”

“Like I was mauled by a tiger.”

“That’s... Actually pretty close to what happened, honey.”

“Jay?”

“Hey, I’m right here. So, what’s the prognosis Choi?”

“Multiple contusions on the right side of the abdomen, lower back and around your neck, multiple lacerations all over your abdomen, forearms, and two on your head. Your liver was also perforated, we couldn’t stop the bleeding so we had to remove half of it, which you know means it’ll take a couple of months to grow back and you won’t be able to drink for around a year. We’re going to need to monitor you and run some tests, so you’re gonna be here for a few days.”

“Well I should hope so. What? Why are you two looking at me like I have eight heads? I could’ve died.”

“... You actually want to stay in the hospital and be cared for by your colleagues?”

“I trust you, besides I’ll only make things worse if I check myself out AMA, doesn’t matter how good of a doctor I am. It’ll be hard and I’m not going to enjoy it, but I have to stay here and get treated regardless so I might as well be as positive as I can about it.”

“You are officially my favourite patient.”

“And I love you even more.”

“Thanks guys, I appreciate it.”

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

“What happened Jay? I don’t remember anything after telling her to walk away.”

“She went berserk. Attacked you. I tried to pull her off but Will lost his mind, telling me not to hurt her. I managed to toss him after a couple of seconds but I was too late. She’d already slashed you up and stabbed you twice. I grabbed her but she managed to get a bunch of kicks in while I was hauling her away from you all while screaming that she was going to kill you. I’m sorry that I couldn’t protect you. She’s sitting in a cell at the 21st right now with Platt breathing down her neck. We also did a drug test on her, she was high as all hell.”

“Please don’t feel bad Jay, I know that you reacted as fast and did as much as you could. And I know that Will did what he could to stop you. How is Will by the way?”

“He’s in the cell next to hers. He assaulted a police officer and was an accomplice in assault. Voight’s been asking if I want to drop the charges against him because he’s my brother. And I just don’t know, I wanted to talk to you first.”

“I don’t want to charge him. And I don’t want you to press charges either, but I won’t stop you if that’s what you want.”

“I don’t want him to go to jail, I want him to go to therapy. He needs it.”

“I wasn’t sure if I should say anything, but he really does. And I think you need to be the one to bring it up with him. We can do some research, too, and find psychiatrists that have their own practices so that it’s not connected to the hospital at all.”

“That sounds like a great idea, but I think you mean I do the research cause you are supposed to be resting and not doing any physically or mentally strenuous tasks.”

“Fine, fine. Just give Will a hug from me when you see him.”

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

ONE YEAR LATER

The day of the trial had finally arrived and you were pissed off about it. The date of the trial was the same day as your due date. The defence had done everything they could to delay the trial, and when they finally settled on the worst possible day three weeks ago, you’d tried to have it delayed again because you didn’t want to give birth in a courtroom. The defence had convinced the judge to deny it, so here you were, sitting in a sweltering room that smelled like old wood and seventies carpet for five hours beside your husband behind the district attorney doing your best not to glare at the judge. “It’s going to be okay, honey, she won’t get away with anything, it’s cut and dry. The only real thing to do is to determine her sentence.” Jay kissed your forehead and placed his hand on top of yours on your protruding stomach. You winced. “She just kicked again, Jay.”

“That’s seven minutes apart.”

“I’m in labour, we need to go.” Jay nodded to your lawyer who motioned to the judge for permission to speak. “Your honour, my client is in labour, may we adjourn so that she and her husband can go to the hospital?”

“Objection your honour!”

“Ms. Asher, do not interrupt the prosecution. I’ve heard and seen more than enough evidence. Ms. Asher, you are hereby sentenced to twenty-five years in prison for aggravated assault and attempted murder. The court now is adjourned. Oh, and Dr. Y/L/N and detective Halstead? Congratulations.”

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Can I ask how Benny and Techie might ring in the New Year? 😋

Um absolutely yes of course!! I made this one too long as well!! Whoops!!

This is the second year that the two of you are dating (since, the first year you’re dating, you’re back home with your family, as you may recall from the Techie and Borracho Holiday Special).

So, oddly, the Magalons aren’t all that big on is New Year’s. Maybe it’s because they go so hard on Christmas, but by the time New Year’s Eve rolls around, they’re worn out. You and Borracho don’t have any plans with them, so you wind up making plans with the guys.

You’re expecting a fiasco, if you’re being totally honest. You love the guys, sure, but you’ve been out with them enough times to know that their usual haunt looks like. What it turns out to be, though, is a round of drinks at Z’s place (which, holy shit, is nice and not what you expected at all. I mean the guy is always pretty put together, but you hadn’t expected his apartment to look so...Lived in), a good dinner at an Italian place nearby, and then you guys settle in at a nice bar. Henderson’s friends with the owner; the team helped the guy out before you joined, so the drinks are half price and twice as boozy as they need to be. You make it a point to pace yourself, but only because you know that it’s going to be a long night, and that’s going to be twice as fun to watch the guys get absolutely slammed at twice the speed. Mind you, it still takes a while, none of the guys are lightweights. You and Borracho still take your time, though. And the guys are still… The guys. They’ve kinda backed off of that ‘tell your girlfriend to behave’ shit that had started when you and Borracho told them that you were together (or, more accurately, when Connors had caught the two of you making out in the Starbucks parking lot, had spread a rumor that you were together, and then unfairly placed a bet about the likelihood of said rumor being true - a bet that he had won). They still rib you, and you still rib them right back. But it’s a little different this time, when Borracho’s arm is wrapped around you, and Nick points between the two of you and asks, “So you really think this is gonna work?” 

And that’s… Not where you thought the night was going. The guys haven’t put you on the spot like this before. 

Borracho’s sisters have, a little, but he wasn’t around, and they’d phrased it differently - things like, ‘So how is it going?’ and ‘You guys seem happy’ - questions and statements with sharp implications, couched in soft, easy-to-bat-at lobs. 

The table’s gone quiet around you; everything that was light and comfy is now testy and tense. And at first you’re struck by Nick’s blunt question, though you shouldn’t be - it’s Nick, he’s always blunt. And then you remind yourself to calm down; Nick’s divorced was just finalized the day before, and he’s still stinging. Maybe he just needs something or someone to be sore at. Rather than give an answer, you counter with a question: “Why wouldn’t it?” 

The guys’ gazes flit from you to Nick. He’s watching you closely, eyes searching your face for something -- and you don’t know what he’s looking for, but you’re praying to anyone that’ll listen that he doesn’t find it. “...If it doesn’t--” “No,” You shake your head, stopping Nick in his tracks, “We don’t talk like that.” 

Henderson sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth next to you, leans back over his chair, looks at the floor like he just spotted a hundred dollar bill. Connors and Zapata are looking at the ceiling like cherubs have just popped out of it. Borracho’s arm tightens around your shoulders, and you don’t know if it’s support or a warning or an anchor, you just know that he’s there and that he’s solid and that he’s got you. Nick nods a little bit, still staring you down. Zapata suggests shots to break the tension. It mostly works. It gets Nick to stop looking at you, at least. Borracho turns his head and murmurs into your hair, offering to get out of there, telling you that the two of you can leave any time. And god, you want nothing more than to go home and curl up on the couch with him, or maybe curl up in bed, but you know Nick, and you know that if you dip now, he’ll see it as backing down, even though you shut him up. So instead you turn your head and nudge your nose against Borracho’s and murmur that it’s alright. You can see the look in his eyes, though, the concern. You reach up and cup his cheek, gently teasing your nails through his goatee like you always do when you want to reassure him. You’re not sure it’s worked, though. You hear him push a soft sigh out through his nose, and you murmur again, “It’s alright, Benny.” --

The two of you do leave, but only because the bar gets shut down - some asshole got into a fight with Connors in the mens room, and why anyone would even bother getting into a fight with Connors, you will never know. You wind up back at your place ten minutes before midnight. You don’t have access to the roof, so you can’t watch any fireworks taking place in the city. Borracho flicks the tv to watch the countdown on the news before tossing the remote onto the couch cushion. He’s still peeved. He’s been peeved since Nick asked what he did, said what he said. You steer him to sit down on the couch and settle down on his lap, your legs stretch across the cushions. He rests his head on your shoulder, his arms curling protectively around your waist, and you comb your fingers through his hair, disrupting the neat way he’d combed it earlier that evening.

“I’m sorry,” He finally mumbles. You frown and peer down at him.

“What the hell are you sorry for?”

“I should’ve said something.”

“What?”

You lean back, trying to get a better look at him, but he’s pressing his face into your neck now, hiding from you.

“Benny.”

“I should’ve said something, sweetness,” He reiterates when he does turn his head from your neck. And then you see a tightness in his jaw that you didn’t notice before.

“Baby,” You murmur, hand shifting from his hair to cup his cheek, “I’m not upset with you -- you spend way more time with Nick than I do.”

“All the more reason.”

You can’t seem to shake him from this.

“Look,” You tip his head up to look at you, “We both know I’m not going anywhere. Now he does, too. What does it matter how the message got across?”

Borracho shakes his head a little bit.

“I didn’t think he’d keep asking.”

“I didn’t either,” You run your nails lightly over his goatee again, “It’s everything that’s going on with Debbie. He needs someone to take it out on and we were just the easiest targets.”

You can hear them counting down from ten on the television - it’s nearly midnight.

“I love you,” The words are out of Borracho’s mouth like they’ve never been said before - they leave him with a fierceness, like they’re a fucking swear, an oath, like he’s trying to drill them into you.

You rest your forehead to his and smooth your hand over his jaw, then his neck, and settle against his chest and try to soothe all that’s fired up in him now.

“I know, Benny. I love you, too,” You murmur. You lean down, capturing his lips as the clock strikes midnight.

You can hear fireworks from the television, and on the street; people are screaming “Happy New Year!” outside and honking car horns.

Borracho clutches tighter to you for a few moments before you feel his arm slide away. And then it’s under your knees and he’s standing and scooping you up with him. You squeal, throwing your arms around his shoulders and laughing as he carries you into your bedroom.

--

Let’s just say, after that, New Year’s Eve is something that the two of you prefer to spend alone. 

[ceealaina]

Title: It Almost Seems Like Yesterday Collaborator Name: ceealaina Card Number: 3088 Link: AO3 Square Filled: S2 - Happily Ever After Ship: IronHusbands Rating: T Major Tags: Canon Divergence, Memory Loss, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort Summary: When Tony gets hit with an amnesia spell that leaves him unable to remember anything past 1990, Rhodey's right there to help him through it. (Now if only Rhodey could remember how the hell he's managed to hide his feelings for Tony all these years.) Word Count: 11,698

Rhodey walked into the room, already feeling tired. He knew he should have stayed home. He’d had a bad feeling before he’d left on vacation, had almost cancelled the trip, but Tony had insisted. He’d gone on and on about how he’d been an Avenger longer than Rhodey (by a whole three years, and look how well that had gone for him) and how if Rhodey missed this trip, it would be Tony’s ass that his mother would be coming after. Then he’d demanded that he bring back some of her chocolate chip cookies and practically pushed him out the door, promising everything would be fine. 

What a fucking liar.

“Okay. What do we know?” Rhodey asked, rubbing at his temples in a futile attempt to ward off the headache he could already feel starting. 

Rogers had the grace to look guilty, which he fucking should; Captain America or not, Rhodey was going to kill him if he had let something bad happen to Tony on his watch. 

“Okay. Rhodey, first off all we’ve been assured repeatedly that this isn’t permanent.”

Rhodey managed to contain his groan. If that’s what they were starting out with, there was no way that any of this was good news. 

“What’s not permanent?” he asked, not even caring that his voice slid into a tone that would have had him being written up for insubordination if he was still serving in the Air Force. He didn’t miss the way Steve swallowed at the sound, felt the vaguest hint of happiness at the sight, although it was quickly overshadowed by his concern for Tony. Beside Steve, Natasha looked like she was going to speak up, but he settled a hand against her arm, apparently willing to take on this particular burden alone. Rhodey resisted the urge to roll his eyes. 

“Whatever weird spell Tony’s been hit with, it’s given him some… Memory loss.” 

Rhodey felt his heart stop. “What kind of memory loss? How bad are we talking here?” 

Steve winced, and Rhodey felt his heart sink further. “We don’t know yet, but uh. In the brief moment I saw him, he didn’t recognize me at all, called me a ‘bad Captain America porno rip off,’ and then he tried to hit on me, so…” 

Despite the shitty situation, Rhodey smiled; that sounded like Tony, alright. At least there was something of him still in there.

Natasha rolled his eyes. “The doctors said he didn’t make any mention of the Iron Man suit, or seem bothered that he doesn’t have the arc reactor, so I’m guessing his memories predate 2012.” 

Rhodey nodded. Clearly these two were absolutely useless to him, and it was time to take things into his own hands. “Right, I’m going to go see him. What did they tell him?” 

“Just that he’d been in an accident, and that he may have suffered some side effects.” 

Rhodey managed to keep his eye roll to himself. “Well, if you’ll excuse me…” He pushed past them, taking half a beat to steel himself before letting himself into Tony’s room. Tony was frowning at the medical equipment beside him, none of it actually attached to him, but his head popped up at the sound of the door opening and Rhodey held his breath, abruptly terrified that Tony wouldn’t know him either. 

He needn’t have worried. A split second later, Tony’s face was breaking into a wide grin. “Rhodey!” he crowed. “Fucking finally! Did you come to spring me free?” Then he tilted his head slightly, eyebrows furrowing. “Did you dye your hair? It’s kind of… grey.” 

“Um…” Rhodey hedged a minute, trying to think how best to handle this, but he knew Tony, knew he’d always dealt best with hard facts. Moving closer, he took a seat on the side of Tony’s bed. “Okay. They told you you’d had an accident, right?” 

Tony nodded, wincing a little. “Was it in the lab? I know you threatened to kill me after the last one, but you also know how I get, so… Really this is on you, leaving me unsupervised like that.”

Rhodey huffed out a soft laugh. “No, Tones, not a lab accident. The thing is, you’re apparently suffering from some memory loss.” 

Tony’s smile faded, eyes going wide. His eyes tracked over Rhodey’s body again, taking in the little differences, the grey hair, the extra few wrinkles around his eyes. He swallowed hard, and Rhodey could already see his brain working overtime, putting it together. He swallowed hard, breathing picking up, and Rhodey closed a hand over his. 

“Hey, easy,” he told him, feeling his own flare of panic when Tony frowned down at his hand in confusion, like he wasn’t used to Rhodey touching him like this. “Everything’s going to be okay, Tones. It’s not permanent, and I’m gonna help you get your memories back. I just need you to tell me the last thing you remember, and we can start from there.”

“Um.” Tony scratched the back of his head. “There was that party we went to. When the drunk guy knocked me into the pool, and you punched him?” 

For a moment, Rhodey couldn’t even place what he was talking about, racking his brain for anything even remotely like that. And then it clicked. 

“At MIT?” he yelped, cursing internally when Tony jumped a little at his voice. “Sorry,” he said quickly. “Sorry, I just. That’s fine. We can work with that.” 

“Rhodey?” Tony reached out, tentatively touching his upper arm. “I really need you to tell me what year it is.” 

Rhodey took a moment. He really didn’t want to say it, but Tony was a genius, he was already putting it together, and Rhodey really didn’t want him coming to the conclusion that there was something he was hiding. He swallowed. 

“Tony, it’s 2015.”

***

Once Tony had gotten over the shock of missing nearly thirty years of his life, and Rhodey had finished convincing Pepper that for now, at least, she and Happy were better staying in California and not overwhelming Tony with people that he only knew he was supposed to know, Rhodey had given him a rundown of what he was missing. He knew he was supposed to get his memories back eventually, but he couldn’t think how they would even begin that process without Tony at least knowing about Iron Man and the Avengers. 

Telling him had been well worth it. In Tony’s mind, DUM-E was still a work in progress. So finding out that he’d succeeded -- and that DUM-E was still kicking around thirty years later -- Tony’s entire face had lit up. 

“Holy shit,” he breathed, shifting closer to Rhodey on the bed. “You’re telling the truth? DUM-E works? You’re not just fucking with me?” 

Rhodey hadn’t been able to help laughing. “Tones, that’s not even half of it. After you cracked the AI code, you built JARVIS.” 

Tony frowned. “Jarvis?” he repeated, a flicker of sadness crossing his features, and Rhodey winced as he remembered that, for Tony, Edwin Jarvis had died only the year before. Still, Tony managed a smile, though it was fainter than before. “Tell me you didn’t let me Frankenstein my butler back to life.” 

Rhodey snorted, but he laid a hand over his arm anyway, stroking a thumb over his skin. He, more than anyone, knew how much more than a butler Jarvis had been to him. “Not Jarvis,” he told him softly. “JARVIS. Stands for Just A Really Very Intelligent System.” 

Tony blinked. “Another robot, like DUM-E?”

“And U,” Rhodey added, even though it was just adding to the confusion; he’d always been partial to U. 

“Me?” Tony repeated blankly before he caught on and his eyes went even wider. “I built three robots??” 

Rhodey couldn’t help laughing. He had absolutely no idea. “No, Tony. JARVIS isn’t a robot. He doesn’t actually have a physical form. He’s… Fuck man, he’s the most sophisticated machine ever. He’s a fully functional learning AI. He’s smarter than most humans I’ve met, he manages to keep you on your toes. I swear to god, Tones, he has emotions. As soon as we get you out of this SHIELD safehouse, I’ll get you back to the tower, and you can talk to him yourself. It’s gonna blow your damn mind.” 

Tony leaned back against cushions, looking overwhelmed in the best kind of way, bright-eyed with wonder. He looked young, despite the laugh lines and the grey in his goatee, and for just a moment Rhodey felt his stomach twist with a funny sort of nostalgia. Rhodey had fallen in love with Tony when he was twenty years old, and he had never stopped being in love with him. He’d long ago accepted that it was unrequited, that he was never going to love anyone the way he loved Tony, and that was fine. It didn’t even hurt anymore, it was just… How it was. He wouldn’t trade their relationship for anything. But seeing Tony like this, smiling all bright and open like he was eighteen, he felt like he was falling in love all over again and it ached. 

“Holy shit,” Tony breathed, shaking his head a little. “I can’t believe I did that. I mean, I can, because it’s me, but… Holy shit.” He shook his head again. “Wait, SHIELD? Like… The SHIELD that Aunt Peggy runs?” He looked around the room, like it would give him some sort of clue. “Do I work for SHIELD?” 

Rhodey puffed out his cheeks and he blew out a long breath. “Not exactly,” he admitted. “You work with them sometimes, but… You’re an Avenger.” 

Tony blinked back at him, expression blank, and Rhodey realized that, right. That meant absolutely nothing to him. 

“Uhh. You’re a superhero?” 

Tony blinked again and then started laughing, so hard that he couldn’t hold himself upright, bright giggles filling the room. Rhodey couldn’t help laughing too, the sound contagious, and it was several minutes before Tony managed to speak again. 

“A superhero,” he repeated, wiping actual tears from his eyes. “Well, at least your stupid sense of humour hasn’t changed in the past thirty years. What, am I the new Captain America?” he asked, snorting again. 

“No,” Rhodey told him. “Definitely not Captain America. But you do know him.” 

Tony stopped laughing abruptly as he caught the look on his face. “Wait, are you serious? Are you…” He trailed off and flung his arms in the air. “How is any of that possible?” 

And so Rhodey had told him about Afghanistan, how he’d been kidnapped but come out of it with a shiny metal suit of armor, how they’d found Thor, and then after that Steve in the ice, and then about the Battle for New York and how that had led into them becoming a team.

“Oh my god,” Tony breathed when he was done. “I’m not going to lie, that sounds completely unbelievable, but also, way too convoluted to be anything but real.” He leaned back, thinking, and Rhodey watched him mouth the words ‘Iron Man’ to himself. Then he shot forward again, grabbing at Rhodey’s arm. Rhodey shivered at the little thrill of pleasure he always felt when Tony was all close and in his space like this. “Can I see it?” he asked, like a little kid trying to sneak a cookie. “The Iron Man suit?” 

Rhodey couldn’t help laughing. “Suits,” he told him, snorting as Tony’s eyes got bigger still. “And of course you can see them. They’re yours. Just gotta get the all clear to get you out of here.” 

“Wait, so then… Those people that were here before? They’re Avengers too?” His eyes were still wide, but they took on a horrified expression. “Oh my god, was that actually Captain America?” Tony made a ridiculous ‘eep’ noise and actually pulled the blanket over his head. “Rhodeyyyy,” he whined through the fabric, giving Rhodey a flashback to Tony’s first date at MIT. “You’re going to have to resign on my behalf, because I can’t ever go back to being an Avenger.” 

Rhodey patted his knee consolingly, taking advantage of the fact that Tony couldn’t see him to drink in his fill of him. “Of course you can, Tony. We’re your team. We all love you. And Steve’s your best friend, after me obviously. He doesn’t care, I promise.” 

“You don’t understand! I told Captain America he belonged in a porn.” 

“I’m pretty sure you’ve said way worse to him.” 

“And I’m pretty sure the words ‘wet dream’ were used. How do I ever look at him again?” 

“Jesus,” Rhodey muttered as something that was definitely not jealousy twisted in his stomach. He’d forgotten about Tony’s weird Captain America hero worship phase. “Tony, you’re fine. I know you don’t remember, but Steve knows you. He wouldn’t have expected anything less. Do you want me to call them back in so you can see for yourself?” 

The face that Tony made was hilarious. “No!”

“Come on, man. I know you. You don’t rip the bandaid now, it’s just gonna get harder and harder…” He nudged him teasingly. “Tones. They’re your teammates. They’ll want to see that you’re okay.” 

“I hate you,” Tony grumbled, but Rhodey could already tell he was relenting. Patting his knee once more, he gave him a wink and got up to the door. Steve and Nat were, unsurprisingly, lingering outside, and he gestured them in. 

“Come on,” he said, trying not to sound too grudging. He knew deep down that it wasn’t their fault Tony had gotten hurt, but they’d still been the ones with him when it happened, and he couldn’t help feeling a little resentful. 

Natasha, at least, didn’t seem to care in the slightest. She brushed past him to sidle right up on the bed beside Tony, tugging him close and stroking a hand through his hair. “Hey baby,” she purred, a teasing smirk on her lips, and Rhodey resisted the urge to snort. “How’re you feeling?” 

Tony stared up at her with wide eyes and Rhodey bit back his fond smile. “Uh.” Tony ducked his head and cleared his throat and then his gaze snapped back up to her like he couldn’t look away (not that anyone would really blame him for that). “You’re one of my teammates, I guess? I’m Tony.” He winced then, and stared up at the ceiling. “But… you… already know that.” He shook his head. “Amnesia is fucking weird.” 

“Oh my god,” Natasha crowed. “MIT Tony is fucking adorable.” She wrapped her arms around his neck in a sideways hug and glowered at Rhodey. “You never told us,” she tsked, kissing Tony’s cheek. Nobody missed the blush that crept over Tony’s cheeks. 

“Natasha.” Steve rolled his eyes, but he was looking amused. “Stop tormenting Tony when he doesn’t remember you enough to shoot back.” 

Tony’s eyes darted in his direction before immediately flickering away again, and Rhodey felt something sour roll in his stomach as Tony’s blush deepened. Nat had noticed it too, hiding her smile to keep from completely embarrassing Tony. 

“Um, thanks,” Tony managed, looking up again to give Steve one of those mega-watt smiles that Rhodey had first fallen in love with. It was bright and open, from before he’d even needed to learn his press smile, and the jealousy in Rhodey’s stomach grew. It felt ridiculous to even think it, but those smiles were supposed to be just for him. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Steve told him, laughing a little. 

“And, uh. Sorry about what I said before,” Tony blurted out all in a rush. “The whole… porno… thing.” He looked like he wanted to sink through the floor, and Rhodey very much wanted to hug him. “I didn’t, I mean… I hate hospitals, so I was kind of not myself, and then, you know, obviously if I’d known you were the real Captain American, I wouldn’t have…” He trailed off, hand rubbing at his sternum in the same nervous tic he’d had since 2008; his body, at least, seemed to remember. “Anyway.” 

“Wow.” Steve grinned. “He really is adorable. Can we keep him?” 

Tony gave a startled laugh at that. “You can definitely keep me,” he promised, a hint of flirtation in his voice, and when Steve had looked away he caught Rhodey’s eye and mouthed ‘oh my god.’ 

Rhodey forced himself to give a normal smile in return. He’d forgotten about this mix of shy, and awkward, and weirdly flirtatious that Tony had been, barrelling from one extreme to the other, and while he was loving getting to see this side of him again, he couldn’t help wishing that more of it was directed at him. 

“I still can’t believe you’re the actual Captain America,” Tony continued. “I mean, I have all your trading cards at home, and I--,” He cut himself off abruptly, flushing again. “God, Dad must have shit a brick when he finally found you.” 

Tense silence filled the room, and Rhodey felt his stomach drop. How had he forgotten to tell Tony about his parents? To be fair, thinking about Howard still made him want to put his fist through a wall -- or the man’s face -- so he did it as little as possible. And it was so far behind them now that it hadn’t even come into his mind. 

Tony was looking back and forth between all three of them now, obviously picking up on the fact that something was wrong and Rhodey knew he wouldn’t want to get this news in front of two essential strangers. 

“You two out. Now,” he told them, voice booking no argument. To their credit, Steve and Nat didn’t look inclined to argue anyway, Nat giving Tony one last kiss on the cheek, softer this time, before the two of them slipped out the door. 

There was silence for a moment after the solid click of the door closing, Tony staring down at his hands. “Dad’s gone, isn’t he?” he asked, though it didn’t sound like a question. 

Rhodey sighed, moving closer to the bed again. “Tones…” 

Tony looked up at him then, and his eyes were shimmering. “Did he at least get to see me become a superhero?” he asked softly. Rhodey just shook his head, wishing not for the first time that he could bring Howard back to life just to kill him himself. Even after everything he’d done to him, all Tony had ever wanted was to make the man proud.

“No,” he told him. “That came a lot later.” 

Tony nodded, looking back down at his hands. “Mom?” he asked, just the one word. There was a crack in his voice, and Rhodey felt his heart break. 

“I’m so sorry, Tony.” 

Tony made a soft sobbing noise, and without stopping to think about it, Rhodey was up on the bed beside him, tugging him into his lap. Tony moved into it easily, comfortable with Rhodey in a way he hadn’t even been remotely close to with Nat. He shifted until he was half sideways, arms wrapped around Rhodey’s waist and face pressed into his upper abdomen and Rhodey just leaned back against the pillows and rubbed over Tony’s back, letting him mourn his mother’s death for the second time. He knew the circumstances weren’t anywhere near ideal, but Rhodey felt his breath catch and couldn’t help feeling something inside him settle with Tony against him like this, couldn’t help thinking that he could stay like this with him forever. 

Eventually, Tony’s sobs evened out, the shivers that had been going through him coming to a stop. He didn’t make any move to get up though, just squirmed a little to get more comfortable against Rhodey’s side as the other man continued to stroke through his hair. 

“This is super gay,” he mumbled, still making no move to to pull away. Then he froze, body going tense and tight. “I mean, uh… Not that you’re gay. Or I’m gay. It’s not, like…” He was flustered, stumbling all over his words, and Rhodey couldn’t help laughing. 

“It’s okay, Tones,” he told him. “I know you like men, too. It’s totally fine. Completely acceptable now, even.”

“Oh,” Tony said softly, and his arms tightened around just a little around Rhodey’s waist. “Okay.”  

They stayed there in comfortable silence until Rhodey knew he couldn’t wait any longer. 

“Tony,” he said quietly, still rubbing his head to keep him calm. “There’s more.”

He could feel Tony take a deep breath beneath him, steeling himself. “Okay,” he said again, voice quieter still. “Tell me.” 

“Your parents’ death… It was set up to look like an accident, but. It wasn’t.”

Tony pulled back then, staring at Rhodey, and the expression in his eyes was enough to make something catch in Rhodey’s chest. He cleared his throat, and it took him a minute before he could speak. “It… It’s sort of hard to explain, but Hydra -- you know Hydra?” 

Tony gave him a look like he was stupid, and Rhodey tried not to roll his eyes. 

“Okay, well Hydra didn’t die out in World War II. They’ve been here, all along, working behind the scenes to do their evil Nazi thing. And they took your parents out, made it look like a car accident.” He drew in a deep breath, because he barely believed this shit, and he’d watched Rogers take out the helicarriers live on television. Trying to explain it all now was bonkers. “But they didn’t send just any operative to do it. It was their most feared shadow assassin and all that other fun Nazi propoganda bullshit, except in this case it wasn’t all bullshit. They called the asset the Winter Soldier. Who we found out after the fact was actually one Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes.”

Tony blinked at him, mouth hanging open. “James Buchanan Barnes,” he repeated. “Like Bucky Barnes? The Bucky Barnes who died in 1945?” 

Rhodey nodded. “That’s the one. Except, you know. He didn’t die, obviously. There was this whole thing with Russians, and brainwashing, and horrible, life-altering torture. I want to be clear here, Tony, it wasn’t really him. He was brainwashed, he didn’t know what he was doing. It was pretty tense here for awhile, after we found everything out, but we think we can help him break through the brainwashing, so you’ve been helping Steve try to track him down.” 

Tony just nodded, still staring at him. “Okay,” he said, voice a little distant. He looked completely overwhelmed, and Rhodey nudged him. 

“Hey, you alright? I know it’s a lot to take in.” 

“Yeah,” Tony admitted with a faint laugh. “It’s… A whole lot.” He looked down at his hands for a minute. “This is embarrassing, but… CanIhaveanotherhug?” he asked, all in a rush. 

Rhodey didn’t laugh, although he was tempted for a moment. “Of course, Tones,” he told him, opening his arms wide. “You don’t ever have to ask for that.” 

Tony tucked himself back in under his arms, and Rhodey resisted the urge to kiss the top of his head, not wanting to freak him out anymore than he already was. There was silence for a few moments as Tony processed all the new information. 

“I suppose it makes sense,” he said finally. “If Bucky was brainwashed, it wasn’t like he was the one who killed mom and dad, not really.” 

Rhodey didn’t bother telling Tony that he was accepting this a lot faster than he had the last time. He had a funny feeling that none of this was quite real for him yet, even if he was understanding the words. 

“And if Steve is my teammate, and Bucky was his best friend, of course I’d help him track him down. And well, Bucky always was my favourite Howling Commando.” Then he squirmed a little, flustered. “Uh… Don’t tell Steve I said that. That was when I was a kid, I mean.”

Rhodey did his very best not to tense up as jealousy flared through him, not wanting Tony to notice, or pull away, or think something else was wrong. “Don’t worry, handsome. Your secret’s safe with me.”

***

Rhodey was pretty sure that he had Natasha to thank for the fact that the wealth of additional, likely unnecessary tests the doctors had wanted to run were suddenly forgotten (it was magic, for fuck’s sake. What did the doctors think they were going to find?), and after a final check over to make sure Tony was all healthy (memory loss aside), they were able to take him back to the tower. 

Tony had blinked as he spotted it on the drive over, eyes going wide as he took in the giant ‘A’ shining in the waning light of the day. “Is that the Avengers Tower?” he asked, and he was trying to sound casual, like it was just a vaguely interesting conversation point, but Rhodey could hear the burning curiosity in his voice, could tell he was only pretending not to be impressed. “They built their own building?”

“Yep. Well, technically it’s your tower, but you’re nice enough to let us all live there.” 

Tony turned to stare at him, mouth hanging open, before he remembered he was pretending to be cool and quickly turned back to face the window. “Stark Tower,” he breathed, even though nobody had referred to it that way since he’d woken up. Then he shook his head. “You mean it’s Stark Industries’ tower,” he corrected. “So technically it’s dad’s tower, since he started the company.” 

Rhodey fought back a wince. “No, Tones,” he told him softly. “This is all you. As someone who’s been your best friend for thirty years now, you’ve gotta trust me on this. You’ve accomplished things Howard couldn’t even dream of.” 

Tony didn’t answer, still trying to play it cool, but Rhodey could see his pleased little smile reflected in the tinted glass of the window. 

His attempts at playing it cool only lasted until they had pulled into the tower garage and stepped into the private elevator that would take them to the avengers’ floors, at which point JARVIS greeted them with a, “Welcome back, Sir. Captain Rogers has already apprised me of your current situation. Let me assure you that I am here to assist you in every and any way possible, and that Dum-E, U and I are all hoping for your speedy recovery.” 

Tony’s jaw had dropped and he’d stared at Rhodey with absolutely enormous eyes. “Holy shit,” he’d gasped. “I thought you were exaggerating!” And then he had promptly forgotten Rhodey’s existence entirely as he bombarded JARVIS with question after question, wanting to know about everything from JARVIS’s operating system, to the power set up for the tower, to finding out how they’d managed to miniaturize the arc reactor. For the first time in this whole insane situation, Rhodey hadn’t minded losing Tony’s attention; it left him free to watch him, to take in his excitement and enthusiasm without worrying that Tony would catch him staring with that stupid, besotted smile that he knew was plastered across his face. It was uncanny how young Tony managed to look despite still being in his 45-year-old body, and it was wreaking havoc with Rhodey’s heart. God, he was so fucking in love with him.

Tony was still bantering with JARVIS when the elevator doors opened and he stepped out automatically, not even looking where he was going. Then the lab lights came on and Tony’s cut himself off mid-sentence, staring around the ‘shop with wide eyes. 

“Holy. Fucking. Shit,” he managed. “Is this… Am I…” 

“It’s yours, baby,” Rhodey told him, unable to keep the grin off his face; it wasn’t often that he got to see Tony’s mind blown like this. “It’s all yours. This is where the magic happens.” He gestured around the room. “Have at it.” 

With a final, disbelieving stare at Rhodey, Tony was running deeper into the lab, immediately trying to negotiate about six different things at once. He was poking at the latest iteration of Sam’s wings when DUM-E came rolling up with a curious little chirp. Tony whirled around, pure joy on his face. 

“Oh my god,” he breathed, patting DUM-E’s strut. “You really do work.” He positively beamed, and Rhodey swore he saw a glimmer of tears in Tony's eyes. “Look at you, you big, dumb thing. You’re so beautiful.” 

Fighting back a laugh, Rhodey moved across the room to give U some love too. “Don’t worry, gorgeous,” he hummed. “He’s gonna love you too. DUM-E’s just his baby.” 

Tony did, of course, cooing over the two of them like they were actual babies. Rhodey couldn’t do much more than stand back and watch, absolutely captivated by watching Tony discover twenty-five years worth of technological advancements at once, looking completely overwhelmed in the best possible way. The noise he made when re realized that his entire system was holographic was the greatest thing that Rhodey had ever heard. He immediately had JARVIS record it and send it to him so that he could set it as his ringtone. Every move that Tony made seemed to remind him all over again why he had fallen in love with him. 

Tony glanced up then, eyes narrowing suspiciously as he looked Rhodey over. “What are you smiling at?” 

“Nothing,” Rhodey answered just a bit too quickly, hoping his expression had been more ‘amused’ and less ‘hopelessly in love with you for all of eternity.’ “Nothing, man,” he repeated. “I just forgot how precious you are when you’re all excited.” 

Tony rolled his eyes. “Shut up,” he grumbled, but his cheeks flushed a little and he gave Rhodey a bright, sweet smile before turning back to whatever was spread out across the table in front of him. Rhodey whistled to get his attention back. 

“Hey Tones!” 

Tony whirled back to look at him, holding up one of Clint’s new prototypes. “Are these exploding arrows?” he demanded. 

“Yeah, man, probably.” He arched an eyebrow at him. “Thought you wanted to see the Iron Man suits though?” 

***

It was hours later that Rhodey got a notification from Steve, letting him know that they’d ordered in food from Tony’s favourite Italian place and that the rest of the team was up in the common area, if they wanted to join them. Rhodey couldn’t help making a face at his phone; he knew they’d have to meet up eventually, but he was kind of enjoying their little bubble, just the two of them and the bots in the workshop. It wasn’t like he was jealous of Tony’s Avengers status, or his friendship with Steve -- really, he was glad that he had someone else in his corner -- but sometimes he missed the days when it had just been the two of them. 

“Hey. Why so glum, chum?” 

Rhodey nearly jumped; he hadn’t realized that Tony was even looking at him. When he’d glanced over a minute earlier, Tony had been fully absorbed with the HUD in one of the Iron Man helmets. 

“No,” he said quickly. “I’m not. Just distracted. Uh… They’ve got Italian for you upstairs, if you’re hungry.”

“Oh, uh…” Tony quickly ducked his head, suddenly fascinated by the HUD display. “I’m okay,” he mumbled, just as his stomach growled loudly. Rhodey folded his arms across his chest, arching an eyebrow, and after a long moment of silence, Tony looked up to give him a sheepish look. “Okay, maybe I’m a little hungry?” he admitted. “Maybe you could bring some food down?” 

Rhodey snorted. “Nope. I know what you’re doing.” 

“I’m not doing anything,” Tony protested, but he was pouting a little. 

“Come on. I know it’s intimidating, but they’re still your team, man. And hey, I’ll be right there with you.” 

Tony rolled his eyes, but there was a hint of a smile at the corners of his lips. “Promise?” he asked, the pleading in his voice probably a little more genuine than he’d meant it to be. 

Rhodey gave him a wink, couldn’t keep the fond smile off his face. “Promise,” he assured him. 

Tony dragged his feet, saying goodbye to all the bots and promising to come back down to hang out with them again after head. Rhodey felt his heart swell, his stomach melting into something warm and gooey, and he turned for the elevator before Tony could see the stupid look that he knew was all over his face. 

When the elevator dinged open on the common floor Clint was standing there, waiting for them. Rhodey rolled his eyes at the sight, but before he could warn him off, Clint’s face dropped into a pout. “Aww, Tony, no,” he protested. “He looks the same.” He turned his head, hollering somewhere behind him, “He looks the same!” 

“I said his memory deaged, Barton!” Nat hollered. “Not his entire body!” This was followed up by some creative Russian cursing that made Clint’s frown deepen. 

“Well that’s just rude,” he protested, getting him a shy smile out of Tony. Clint tilted his head at that. “Oh, wow. I didn’t know your face could look like that.” 

Tony blinked back at him. “Thanks?” 

Clint beamed in return, then shoved his hand out. “I’m Clint, by the way. I guess you don’t know that anymore. Or… Yet? This is confusing.” 

Nat came out of the kitchen, laden down with serving dishes of food and an unusually soft smile for Tony. “It’s really not that complicated, Clint. It’s amnesia, not time travel. I don’t know how many more times I can explain this.” 

“Uh, it’s Clint,” Sam offered, following her out with a giant basket of garlic bread. “So at least three more times.” 

“Fuck you,” Clint shot back without any real heat. “Man, you don’t even go here. You just followed Cap in, what, three days ago?”

As the rest of the team slowly trickled in to join them, Tony took a half step back, moving a little further into Rhodey’s space. Nobody else even noticed, except probably Natasha, but Rhodey grinned, giving Tony a reassuring pat on the back before he stepped further into the room. 

“Come on, Barton,” he said, deflecting the attention further from Tony. “Don’t be jealous just cause you’re not the only birdbrain on the team anymore.” 

In slightly different circumstances, it could have been any other team bonding night, everyone bantering, and jokily arguing and fighting over the last serving of spaghetti. But Rhodey was hyperconscious of how quiet Tony was, watching the exchanges with wide eyes, rather than jumping to join in. He had tucked himself on the shorter couch beside Rhodey, on the far side of everyone else, clearly trying to pretend that he wasn’t overwhelmed. Rhodey knew him though, could read that awkward little smile. He may have liked the team, but Rhodey was the one thing he knew right now, and so he was sticking close. And judging by the way he’d grin into his tomato sauce every time Rhodey would run interference, his hand brushing appreciatively against Rhodey’s elbow, that wasn’t going to stop any time soon. 

***

By the next week, Tony showed no sign of regaining any of his memories. It was a messy situation; magic meant that there was no medical reason that they could determine for his memory loss. On top of that, Tony had been the only one around when the witch or whatever-they’d-been-fighting had cast the spell on him. And since Tony couldn’t remember anything past 1990, nobody had any clue exactly what the spell was, or how to break it. 

It didn’t help that Thor, the only one of them who had any actual experience with magic, was currently off in one of the other nine realms, doing his god thing. (Although, judging by the way Tony had started warming up to Steve, and was now shyly flirting with him every time he walked into a room, Rhodey couldn’t say he was too upset that Thor wasn’t around.) 

He’d thought that if anything, the lab would be the thing to jumpstart Tony’s memories. But while he’d been fascinated by everything there, and it had taken him mere hours to get everything up and running (despite having his memories stuck in a time when pagers were the height of technology), it hadn’t helped him remember. Rhodey was ready to try anything, so he’d called Pepper, and made some arrangements with JARVIS, and when everything was ready, enlisted Steve’s help to carry four enormous boxes down into the lab. 

Tony looked up from where he was soldering something onto one of the Iron Man suits. Rhodey winced a little because if Tony had fucked something up on the suit he was going to kick both Rhodey and himself later. Tony flushed a little when he spotted Steve, who didn’t even have the grace to be straining under the weight of carrying three of the boxes himself. Rhodey resisted the urge to roll his eyes and mutter something about show offs. 

“What’s this?” Tony asked, looking at the boxes curiously and blinking when Steve winked at me. 

“Don’t ask me. It was Colonel Rhodes’ idea. I’m just here to be the muscle.” 

Tony grinned back at him, waggling his eyebrows. “And what a fine job you do.” 

“I hate you both,” Rhodey grumbled. He’d liked it better when Tony had been all shy and nervous and had to look away every time Steve walked into a room. “These,” he added, dropping his one box down on a table with a bit of spare space. “Are your memories.” 

Tony arched an eyebrow at him, though he set down the soldering iron and moved around to peer down at the box. “Oh good,” he said dryly. “You found them.”

Rhodey elbowed him, hard, grinning when Tony yelped and then laughed as he tried to shove him in return. “It’s pictures and photo albums and videos and things from when we were at MIT, and then afterward. It’s sort of all mixed together. You keep insisting that you don’t want to put them out because it’s ‘relic technology’ and you’re going to digitize them instead. But you haven’t yet, so it’s just been sitting in a heap in storage. I had Pepper send them out. And then of course JARVIS has a bunch of more recent photos and video clips when you’ve worked your way through these.” 

“What?” Steve made a ridiculous noise, staring at Rhodey accusingly. “You didn’t tell me I was carrying around photos of baby Tony!” He grinned wickedly and immediately set down all three boxes, starting to paw the top one open. “I wanna see!”

Tony actually screeched, rushing around the table to try and wrestle Steve away from the boxes. “Nooo,” he wailed, trying to peel Steve’s hands away. He was doing a terrible job, except that Steve was too busy laughing at him to put much effort into fighting back. “I was such a dweeb when I first got to MIT! I don’t need Captain America seeing that.” 

“You’re still a dweeb now,” Rhodey pointed out helpfully, getting a beam out of Steve in response. Rhodey told himself to calm down. He liked Steve. It wasn’t his fault that Tony was so obviously crushing on him. 

“See!” Steve said. “What’s the harm in letting me see?” 

Tony narrowed his eyes at Rhodey. “Traitor,” he grumbled. “Seriously, Steve. Out. Only MIT graduates allowed.” 

Steve frowned. “I feel like that’s a roundabout way of calling me stupid.” 

Tony rolled his eyes, so much like now-Tony that it was hard to believe that he had no memory of the last few years. “I’ll make you a deal. Let me go through them, and I’ll let you look at some of the least dorky ones after.” 

“Fine,” Steve sighed, like he hadn’t just been hassling Tony for the fun of it. “Sam and I were gonna grab coffee anyway. Have fun!” he added, heading for the door and leaving them to it.

Tony waited until he was sure Steve wasn’t coming back before immediately yanking open the tape on the first box and practically falling headfirst into it. “Get over here, Rhodeybear,” he hollered, voice slightly muffled by the cardboard. “We’re in this together.” 

Even with Tony’s memory loss, Rhodey had to admit that the afternoon was the most fun he’d had in awhile. Pepper had sent along an old VCR that she found with all the pictures, so they were able to play the VHSs, and for the millionth time this week, Rhodey found himself falling in love with Tony all over again. He thought he had a pretty good memory, but he’d somehow forgotten how adorable Tony had been, that bright, open giggle that he hadn’t bothered to hide back then, the way he’d go all wide-eyed in excitement, not trying to temper himself. Rhodey hadn’t even realized how much he had missed it. And it was even better when he had Tony’s giggle in stereo, the Tony beside him laughing just as hard over terrible jokes and lab accidents and everything else. Several times he had caught Rhodey staring at him with probably a dumbass look on his face, giving Rhodey a moment of panic that he’d figure it out and know exactly what that look meant. But Tony didn’t seem bothered, would just give Rhodey a soft, sweet smile in return before turning back to whatever was in his hand. 

They’d gone quiet for a bit, Rhodey searching for a particular photo from the Halloween party they’d gone to in ‘97, when Tony made a soft noise across from him. Rhodey looked up to see him perusing a red, leather-bound album. 

“Tones? You okay?” God only knew what else Tony might have had tucked in there. 

But when he looked up, Tony didn’t look upset at all. In fact he was smiling, eyes shimmering a little. “Ohhh,” he breathed. “I get it now.” He ducked his head a little, shy but still pleased, and then leaned over to give Rhodey a soft kiss on the cheek, the beard that he’d immediately fallen in love with (of course) ticking Rhodey’s skin.

Rhodey felt warm all over, Tony’s kisses always making him melt, and it took him a minute to realize that this version of Tony hadn’t quite reached that level of casual affection -- the cheek kisses were still another couple years away. Feeling like he’d missed something, Rhodey blinked at him. “Get what?” 

Tony’s smile was growing into something completely goofy and he rubbed at the back of his neck. “That’s why you were so cool with me before, right? Because you like me...n too.” 

“Yeah?” Rhodey offered, because his sexuality was never something he’d hidden from Tony. 

This just made Tony smile wider. “Why didn’t you just tell me?” 

“Tell you what?” Rhodey asked. 

Tony held up the album, showing off a page of pictures of the two of them draped all over each other. “That we’re married!” he proclaimed. 

Rhodey choked on air. “We’re what?” he asked. His voice was weak, and he could feel the blood draining from his face. Panic twisted in his stomach, sharp and bitter. He fucked up, he’d done something to give Tony the wrong idea entirely. 

Tony just gave him a look. “Come on, Rhodes. I know I’m a little behind the times now, but I’m still a genius.” He waggled the photo album in the air. “I have an entire photo album devoted just to you, titled ‘Honeybear.’” He flipped it closed, revealing the nickname titled on the front in gilt cursive letters. “What, have we not told the team or something, is that why you didn’t say anything? Oooh, secret marriage! That’s kind of fun!” He grinned at Rhodey. “Why haven’t we told them? Would they not react well? I know Steve’s from the 1940s, but he was also an artist living in like, the gayest part of Brooklyn. Doesn’t exactly scream homophobic to me. Wait! Is that why you’re so jealous when Steve gets all friendly with me?” 

“I’m not jealous,” Rhodey said weakly.

Tony arched an eyebrow at him with a look that was painfully familiar. “Sure you’re not. I can read you like a book, hot stuff. Oh!” His eyes lit up and he gave Rhodey a smirk that was half teasing and half unbearably pleased. “Now you know I mean it when I call you stuff like that.” 

Rhodey had long since gotten used to Tony’s rambling when he got excited about something, but right now he was having a hard time focusing on what Tony was saying. “Wh… Where are you getting all this?” 

“What? You said gay was okay now. Or… Bi, anyway.” Tony beamed at him. “I've been doing my research.” He got distracted then as a loose picture fell out of the album. It was a later one of Tony and Rhodey in the Iron Man and War Machine armors respectively, faceplates up and arms around each other as they grinned at the camera. “Aww, did I make you that? We match! Cute!”

“Tony.” Rhodey opened and closed his mouth a few times as Tony looked up at him, not knowing how to explain. Tony tilted his head, frowning at him. 

“Rhodey? You okay?” 

“We’re not married,” Rhodey blurted out. He immediately winced; that wasn’t how he had planned to tell him. And then he winced harder when Tony blinked, looking like Rhodey had just told him that the world was flat after all. 

“What?” 

“We’re not married, Tones. We’ve…” He swallowed, the admission hard for all he’d thought he’d accepted it. “We’ve never been like that. I’m so sorry, Tones. I fucked up. I didn’t mean to give you that impression.”

Tony went suddenly, perfectly still, all his manic energy just… Stopping. “We’re not?” he asked, voice soft. Rhodey shook his head and Tony looked away, suddenly unable to even meet his eyes. “Right,” he said softly, and for a truly terrible moment Rhodey thought he was going to cry.

“Tones…” He reached out, curling a hand around Tony’s wrist because everything about this was awful but comforting Tony was ingrained in his blood. “Come on, you’ve never felt like that about me, and that hasn’t changed,” he told him, and Tony’s eyes snapped to his again. “We’re friends, nothin’ else. This is just… A crazy situation, and you’re unsettled, and you’re latching on to what’s familiar.” He wasn’t sure if he was trying to convince Tony, or himself. “Right?” 

And it was completely crazy, but for a brief moment Rhodey found himself hoping against hope that Tony would tell him he was wrong, that he did feel that way for him, always had.

But after a too long moment, Tony nodded, scratching at the back of his neck and giving Rhodey a tight smile, fake in a way that it hadn’t been all week, that it had never been for Rhodey. “Right,” he agreed. He gave a strained laugh. “Well, don’t I feel stupid?”

“No, Tones, don’t--,” 

“Anyway, uh… Thanks for all this.” Tony cut him off as he gathered up an armful of photos and videos, not even bothering to look at what he was collecting. “I appreciate it, but I’m feeling kind of tired now, so I’m gonna…” He nodded his head toward the elevator. “I’ll finish looking at these later.” 

Before Rhodey could say another word, he was on his feet, scrambling for the door. It went against every instinct Rhodey had, but he didn’t stop him, didn’t try to follow him. This was his own fault; thirty years of wanting and he’d managed to give it all away in a week. Some space between them probably wasn’t a bad idea. 

And as it turned out, t was fairly easy for Rhodey to avoid Tony, when it seemed as though Tony was doing his level best to do the same. Rhodey wasn’t going to pretend that it hadn’t hurt when Tony had walked into the kitchen, spotted Rhodey, stared at him with painfully wide eyes for a too-long minute and then spun on his heel and left again without even grabbing whatever he’d come for. 

He knew they’d be alright. They’d had distance and rough patches in their friendship before. He’d always joked it was the mark of a healthy relationship, that they’d been able to come back from whatever life threw at them. And, presumably, Tony would eventually get his memories back, and they’d be able to look back on this whole thing and laugh about it -- if he even remembered it at all. They still didn’t know how this amnesia thing worked. 

But in the meantime? It really fucking sucked. 

***

Steve had slipped into the rarely used library, in search of the sci-fi novel he’d lost somewhere. He spotted it on a side table and was just planning to head for the deck and enjoy some sunshine when he heard a faint noise, a sniffling sound that sounded suspiciously like crying. He hesitated a minute; he wasn’t known for being the most emotionally intelligent member of the team, preferring to punch his feelings away. But if one of his team members were upset, or hurting, it was his job to check in. 

Wincing, he made a point of clearing his throat in case they hadn’t heard him come in. “Hello?” he called. “Somebody there?” 

There a sharp inhale, and then a soft, quiet voice came from the armchair facing the window. “‘S just me.”

“Tony?” Steve followed the sound of his voice. “What are you doing in here?” 

“Sorry,” he said, voice still soft. “JARVIS said this was the least used room in the tower. I just… I needed a minute.” 

Steve came around the front of the chair, and his eyes went wide at the sight of Tony curled up in a tiny, miserable ball in the chair, arms folded across his chest, face red and damp with tears. “Jesus Christ, what happened?” he asked; he’d seen Tony cry before, of course, but never anything like this. 

“It’s nothing,” Tony said quickly. “Nothing happened. I was just leaving anyway.” 

Not for the first time, Steve felt the stirrings of resentment, thinking about Howard and what he’d done to make Tony think he had to hide something like this. “Tony… Talk to me. Something must have happened.” 

But Tony shook his head, still not meeting Steve’s eyes. “It’s nothing,” he insisted, starting to slide off the chair. “Don’t worry about it. It’s fine, everything’s fine. I’m fine.” 

Steve had been trying to be good about respecting Tony’s boundaries; teasing him was fun, but he knew Tony didn’t really know him right now, and the last thing he wanted was to make him uncomfortable. But as Tony started to slide past him, Steve couldn’t seem to let himself do that now. Without thinking, he carefully grabbed Tony’s arm and pulled him in against his chest, hugging him close. For a split second Tony went stiff and tense him, and Steve wondered if he’d made entirely the wrong choice. Then, with a deep exhale, Tony crumpled against Steve, pressing his face into his shoulder as his tears started fresh. Steve tightened his arms around Tony’s back, running a hand up and down his spine in a way that he hoped was soothing. The little shudder Tony gave against him suggested that it was helping at least a little.  

They stayed like that for a while, Steve taking Tony’s body weight easily, mumbling soothing nonsense phrases like he vaguely remembered his mother doing for him when he’d been sick. Eventually that shifted to actual humming, which got him a sad little giggle out of Tony, his hands squeezing against Steve’s sides. 

“Uhh, no offense, Cap,” he said, pulling back a bit. “But you’re truly terrible at singing.” 

Steve shrugged, unbothered. “You say terrible, I say I got a laugh out of you, so that’s another win for Captain America.” 

Tony snorted and rolled his eyes, but it was a little less sad this time. “Whatever you say, Steve.” He rubbed at the back of his neck, ducking his head a little. “Uh, thanks for that.” 

“Steve shrugged. “That’s what I’m here for. Now, you gonna tell me what’s wrong?” 

“Oh. You don’t have to… I’ll be okay.” He gave Steve a wry smile. “For real this time.” 

“Tony… I know you might not remember this right now, but you really are one of my best friends. I’m not asking because I think I have to, or because I’m Captain America and it’s what I do. I’m asking because I love you, and I care about you, and I’m here for you. I want to help if I can, or just sit here and listen if I can’t.” 

“Um. Okay.” Tony fiddled with his hands a moment before flopping back into one of the arm chairs and running a hand through his hair, leaving it even more unruly than usual. “You better be cool about this, Rogers. If you storm out of here in an offended 1940s huff, you’ll break my heart.” 

Steve gave him a look as he dragged another armchair over, positioning it he could sit opposite Tony. “Right. Because I’m known for definitely being a stickler for those 1940s sensibilities,” Steve told him with a crooked grin. He reached out, patting Tony on the knee. “Come on. You can tell me.”

“Okay.” Tony bit his lip. “It’s just… I love Rhodey. I mean, obviously I love him, everyone know that. But I’m in love with him. Like the get married, and buy a house, have lots of babies in love… Or adopt them, I guess. I’m just…” He trailed off, shrugging helplessly. “I’m in love with him.”

Steve grinned then, but it was soft and reassuring. “Tony… I know.” 

“You do?” 

“You’ve been in love with Rhodey for as long as I’ve known you. We’ve talked about it ad nauseum.” He laughed, not unkindly. “I can’t tell you how many times you’ve told me how wonderful he is, all the things you’ve done together, how much you care him… How hot he is in his dress uniform, which personally I don't get. It’s an air force uniform.” He shook his head. “You used to tell me that how so much of what you’ve done was to make yourself the kind of man who would be worthy of a man like Rhodey. I’m pretty sure that being in love with Rhodes is just a part of who you are now. It’s not news.” 

“Oh.” Tony smiled faintly, but this didn’t seem to make him feel any better. There was a shimmer in his eyes again. “That’s… great.”

Steve tilted his head, frowning. “Okay, what am I missing?” 

Tony gave him a pained look. “I did a stupid thing, Steve. We were looking at the pictures, and I had these albums that were all just Rhodey, and he didn’t even flinch at him, and I don’t even know why now, but I thought…” His voice trailed off to a whisper, so soft that if it wasn’t for the serum, Steve wasn’t sure if he would even have heard him. “I thought we were married.” 

Steve felt his heart break at the raw pain on his face. “Oh, Tony.”

“I know, okay? I know. It was so fucking stupid, like why did I jump to married, we don’t even have rings, I don’t know why I said it, I should have just kept my stupid mouth shut. Dad always did tell me I talked too much. But the point is…” He made a choked noise. “The point is, he doesn’t love me back. And future me might be okay with it, but right now it really sucks knowing for a fact that you’re never going to get that happy ending that you don’t admit to daydreaming about. And, and it’s worse. Because for just a minute, I thought I had it. I thought I had everything I could have wanted, and then it was all just yanked away again and…” His voice cracked. “And that really fucking sucks,” he concluded. “Not to mention, I’m pretty sure I just ruined five years -- or thirty years -- of friendship in the process.” 

“Hey, hey no.” Steve shook his head rapidly. “Tony, it may not be the way you want, but Rhodey loves you. He’d throw every single one of us under the bus if it meant helping you. I know it feels awkward now, but no way has this ruined your friendship. You’ll get through this.” 

Tony huffed out a bitter laugh, face tight as he met Steve’s gaze. “I may be an idiot, but I know Rhodey. I can tell when my best friend is avoiding me.” 

And there wasn’t really anything Steve could add to that to that, nothing he could offer except to sit in companionable silence with Tony, until he looked up at him with a sad, tentative smile. 

“Don’t suppose you wanna watch a movie with me tonight?” 

Steve gave him the most reassuring smile he could manage. “Of course, Tony. Any time.” 

***

It had only been a couple days, but it felt like an entire week before Steve came to him. Rhodey hadn’t missed the way Steve and Tony had been spending more and more time together, had been trying to press down the overwhelming jealousy every time he spotted them together. He wasn’t being fair, and he knew it. Tony didn’t trust him now, couldn’t trust him right now, that wasn’t his fault. Rhodey should have been glad that he had someone in his corner, he just… Wished it didn’t have to be Steve.

Not that there were a lot of other options at the moment. The entire team had been pretty scarce lately, probably sensing the tension even if they didn’t know exactly what was going on. Clint had made it a habit to glare at Rhodey every time he passed, because Hawkeye had realized Tony was avoiding him, and apparently Clint was the only one who was allowed to be a shithead to Tony. It was exhausting. 

He’d been in the kitchen, making a snack, when Steve had stormed in. Rhodey would never admit it, especially not to Rogers, but for just a moment he’d felt genuine terror. But he hid it well, turning back to the sandwich he was making. “Captain. What can I do for you?”

Steve didn’t answer at first, moving to lean against the counter beside him. “You need to go talk to Tony,” he told him.

Rhodey pinched the bridge of his nose. “Steve…” 

“No,” Steve told him firmly. “Rhodes, he’s a mess. I’m trying, but you’re the friend he wants. Talk to him.” 

Rhodey felt guilt twist through his stomach, tangled up with the same thrum of fear he’d been fighting off since the whole marriage exchange had happened. “You sure he’ll talk to me?” he asked skeptically, the words slipping out without his consent. 

Steve made a pained noise. “You two deserve each other,” he muttered before promptly stealing Rhodey’s sandwich right off the plate in front of him. “Go. Talk to him,” he repeated before taking an enormous bite and walking right out of the kitchen. 

Rhodey sighed. “Worst. Team. Ever.” 

***

He found Tony, surprise of surprises, in the lab. At least, he reasoned, he hadn’t ruined that for him. 

He still had full access, apparently, the doors opening for him automatically, but Tony didn’t look up and so Rhodey hovered inside the doorway, tapping his knuckles against the frame. “Tones?” 

“I know it’s you. JARVIS told me.” Tony flicked his eyes at him for a split second, but Rhodey couldn’t help noticing that his expression was less angry and more sad and nervous. 

“I, uh…” Rhodey didn’t know where to start or what to say. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I know we haven’t seen much of each other the past few days.”

Tony looked up again, eyes wide. “I’m sorry,” he blurted out. “I know I freaked you out, and of course you wouldn’t want to be married to me. I’m really, really sorry. I promise, I’ll get over these feelings. It’s just a crush, probably… Maybe… Well, Steve said--.” He cut himself suddenly, skin flushing. “Well, anyway. I mean we’re, we’re still friends thirty years later, right? And you don’t know how future me feels, so I must have gotten over it, or at least used to it, or adjusted at some point, right? I promise, I won’t make it weird, just… You’re my best friend. Please don’t go.” 

Rhodey blinked, across the room and beside Tony before he was even conscious of the movement. Tony had dropped his eyes back to the table in front of him, but Rhodey caught him by the upper arms, pulling him away so they were facing each other. “Whoa, whoa, hey. First of all, I’m not going anywhere, Tones. Not ever. Second of all. What??” 

Tony gave him a pained look. “Come on, Rhodey. I know you’ve been avoiding me.” 

“Because… I thought… Tony, you thought we were married. And I… That’s on me. The truth is.” He drew in a long breath, ignoring the pang in his stomach at the thought of confessing. “The truth is, I’ve had feelings for you for a long time. Like three decades worth of a long time. And obviously I was doing a shit-ass job of hiding them, so I just… I just thought you might want some space.” 

Tony was staring at him, face unreadable. “What?” Then he shook his head frantically. “No, no, no! Rhodey, are you kidding? I’ve been crushing on you for so long. Since�� Well, since we met, really. I walked into the dorm room and you were wearing this old, thin t-shirt and it was so tight around your biceps and I kinda melted a little, and I…” He winced a little, coughing to clear his throat. “Well anyway, that’s kind of too much information, but the point is… The point is, I’m into you too. And then, when I saw the photos, and the videos, and there were all the other little things. You kept touching me, and looking at me, and you said that being gay was accepted now, and I guess I just… I wanted it to be true so I totally misread the situation.”

He ran out of steam then, going quiet as he stared at Rhodey, and for a minute Rhodey just stared back, feeling a little like he might pass out. “Oh,” he said faintly. “Oh, shit.” 

Tony smiled at him, soft and tentative. “You… you like me too?” he asked, hopeful and nervous like Rhodey hadn’t just said as much.

Rhodey grinned, feeling like he was buzzing with happiness. “Tony, I am completely and absolutely in love with you,” he told him, watching as the biggest grin bloomed across Tony’s face in response. 

“I, um…” He ducked his head a little. “I’m a little in love with you too.” 

Rhodey arched an eyebrow at him. “Just a little?” 

Tony rolled his eyes at him. “Shut up.”

“Come on, man. Get on my level.” 

Tony snorted, the sound turning into a full-on laugh. “Your level?” he replied. “We just confessed our undying love and you haven’t even kissed me yet.” 

“Oh, really?” Rhodey focused all his attention on Tony, watching as his tongue darted out to swipe over his lip a little nervously. “That what you’re waiting for?” 

Tony shrugged, trying to play cool. “Maybe,” he offered, like it was no big deal, but his fingers were fiddling anxiously. Rhodey shrugged. 

“Alright then.” He moved forward, covering Tony's hands with his his to still their nervous twitching. Then he shifted one hand to curl around the back of his neck, stroking his thumb over his skin. Tony stared up at him with those big, beautiful eyes, lips parted slightly in anticipation, and Rhodey grinned at him before closing the distance between them and kissing him gently. Tony almost immediately melted against him, hands shifting to grab at Rhodey’s hips, clutching them tight as his lips parted and Rhodey deepened the kiss. He slid his hand down Tony’s back, pulling him in close, and grinned at the startled, pleased noise Tony made against his mouth. 

They were both breathing hard when he pulled back again, curling his other hand around his neck so he could stroke his thumbs over his pulse points. “That good, baby?” 

Tony blinked at him a couple times. “Holy shit,” he breathed, eyes round and huge. “That was… Holy shit.” 

Rhodey smirked at him. “What? Don’t tell me you don’t remember kissing.” 

Tony gave him a mock glare. “Of course I remember kissing! But it was never like... That. Jesus Rhodes, where’d you learn to kiss like that?” 

Rhodey couldn’t help laughing, shaking his head and ducking his head to give Tony another quick kiss. “Practice,” he told him, waggling his eyebrow. 

“Yeah? Wanna go upstairs and practice some more?” 

“Smooth, man.” Rhodey laughed harder, not wanting to admit how much Tony’s terrible line delighted him. He hummed consideringly, and then yelped when Tony pinched his side. “Come on, like I’m going to turn down making out with you.” 

Tony beamed at him. “And then, maybe, you could… Stay? Even if we don’t do anything. I Just… I missed you the last couple days.” 

Rhodey slid his arms down over Tony’s back, pulling him in and hugging him tight. “I like the sound of that.” 

***

They ended up stretched out on Tony’s massive bed, stripped down to boxers and t-shirts. Tony was sprawled out on top of him, making contented little noises against Rhodey’s mouth as they made out lazily for what felt like hours. Rhodey was particularly fond of this angle, as it let him drop his hand down to Tony’s ass and squeeze whenever he felt like it. The little giggle that Tony had made the first time was Rhodey’s new favourite sound. 

“Hey,” Tony pulled back, blinking at Rhodey with sleepy eyes. “You know what we should do?” 

Rhodey hummed, running his hands over Tony’s back. “What’s that?” 

“You should take my virginity.” 

Rhodey burst out laughing, tipping them onto their sides. He shook his head, beaming at Tony. “Okay, I know for a fact that you’re not a virgin, even at your memory age, or whatever.” 

Tony gave him a scandalized look, but he was laughing now too. “Not for butt stuff!” he insisted. “I’ve never done that!” 

Rhodey laughed harder. “Okay. The fact that you just called it butt stuff? Means we’re not fucking doing it tonight. Or at all, until you get your memories back.”

Tony giggled, pushing at Rhodey until he shifted onto his back, letting Tony snuggle up against his side. “Fine,” he sighed, not sounding particularly upset. “What about blow jobs? We’ll split the difference! I’ve gotten them before, but I’ve never given them before… We can 69!” 

Rhodey snorted, wrapping his arms around Tony. “You’re hopeless,” he informed him. He traced long fingers up and down his spine. “Also, no. It’s just… I get that you might be fully onboard--,”

“I fully, absolutely am,” Tony informed him, biting at his chest through his t-shirt just to be a shit.

“But that doesn’t mean that you’ll feel the same way when you get your memories back.” 

Tony lifted his head to give him a skeptical look. “Well, I don’t think that’s likely to happen.” 

“Probably not. At least I hope not. But we won’t know for sure until you get them back. I don’t know, Tones. It’s a weird situation. I’m just not totally comfortable with it.” 

Tony hummed. “That’s fair,” he acknowledged. “Although, I do feel obliged to point out that you did just spend the last hour making out with me.” 

Rhodey shrugged. “Hey man, I’m only human.” 

Tony giggled again, settling in closer. “Hey, you’re gonna stay though, right?” he asked, a little bit of nervous energy sliding into his voice again. “Here, I mean? Tonight?” 

Rhodey hummed, pressing his face into the soft curls on the top of Tony’s head. “Nowhere else I’d rather be.” 

***

Rhodey woke up the next morning to bright laughter beside him. He rolled over to find Tony sprawled out on his back, laughing up at the ceiling. “What the fuck are you giggling at?” 

Tony turned to grin at him, and oh. “Tones?” he asked, because that face was all his Tony. Well, every Tony was his Tony, but it was now Tony.

Tony smirked at him. “Hey handsome. Guess who got their memories back.” Then he was shifting forward, kissing Rhodey with all his extra years of experience. “God, your morning breath is terrible,” he informed him, still grinning. 

“Yours isn’t exactly candy floss,” Rhodey replied automatically, setting Tony off laughing again. “Okay, laughing at the man you just kissed isn’t a great start.” 

“It’s not that!” Tony said quickly, sliding a hand up under Rhodey’s t-shirt to splay his hand out over his abdomen. “It’s just... “ He snorted. “The spell. It’s so fucking stupid, but the key to getting my memories back? True love’s kiss.” He buried his face in Rhodey’s chest, body shaking with laughter. “We’re such cliches, baby.” 

Rhodey grinned, running his fingers through Tony’s hair. “I wouldn’t expect you to be so pleased by that idea.” 

Tony lifted his head to give him a dopey grin, shrugging a little. “I don’t know. Nothing in my life has exactly been what you’d call normal. If it means you’re my one true love, absolutely, I kind of like the idea of being a cliche.” 

Rhodey felt his face go soft and soppy. “You’re the sweetest damn thing I’ve ever seen,” he said, earning him an eye roll even as a pleased smile crossed Tony’s lips. 

“Shut up,” he muttered, before wriggling his way down Rhodey’s body. “Now, about those blow jobs you promised me…”

@tonystarkbingo

[samcedesvegas]

Morning in Vegas || Samcedes

Who: Sam Evans and Mercedes Jones

What: Sam and Mercedes go out on the town for some much needed fun

Where: Las Vegas, NV

Mercedes was having the strangest dream, she and Sam went out, got married, got drunk and had wild sex all night, when she heard a knocking on the door. Her eyes fluttered open as the knocking continued and she groaned not wanting to get up but knowing it wouldn't stop. She sighed sitting up feeling extremely hung over. She threw her robe on, not registering that she was naked under it and went to the door. "I'm coming...what?" She opened the door to see Nate standing there with a dozen roses.

"Merce please. Take me back, we are perfect for each other. I just needed time to find out who I am and I realize I am nothing without you."

The room was spinning in circles. Sam woke up with his blonde hair all over his head, a pounding headache, and pretty much no recollections of what he did last night. But by the stench of whiskey on his breath he knew it was fun.  He rolled over, only to find Mercedes Jones, his co-star, completely naked next to him. “Holy shit.” He cursed under his breath before silently congratulating himself. It was a guy thing. Not knowing how she might feel about everything, his plan was to quickly shower and leave her to rest. Walking back into the bedroom with nothing but a towel around his waist, his eyes widened at Nate standing in the doorway with a bouquet of roses. “I-I umm, I’m just gonna’ grab my clothes and go.” He stuttered awkwardly.

Mercedes felt her eyes widen as Sam walked into the room from the bathroom, and Nate saw red. He pushed past Mercedes looking at Sam. "What the fuck?!"

Mercedes closed her eyes trying to figure out what was going on herself. "Nate I need you to go "

"Me?! You made me wait a damn year before we even went past second base and here you are with him?"

"Nate please...right now I need you to turn the volume down and go. I don't know what happened between me and Sam but whatever it was, it stopped being your business a long time ago ."

Nate was about to run at Sam but Mercedes stopped in his path. "NATE! JUST GO!"

Once Nate finally agreed to leave Sam was relieved when Mercedes closed the door. He knew karate and Kung fu but he wasn’t sure how far that would take him with a dude twice his size and build. He breathed a sigh of relief as he went to gather his clothes. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to screw that up.” His country accent is a bit thicker than normal because of his nerves. Taking a seat on the bed he hid his face in his hands. Mostly trying to remember last night but also to soothe the headache that was pounding in his head. “What the hell did we do last night?”

Mercedes tightened her Robe and shook her head. "Nate shouldn't have come here. We are over, he needs to realize that." She ran her hands through her hair shaking her head. "I don't know...I remember the club and bits and pieces..." She was about to sit on her bed when her phone rang.

"Tina let me call you back."

"Sure thing I just have one question. WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO!"

Sam could hear the shouting through the phone. He tried his best to remember everything that went on. He was sure of one thing though, they definitely had sex. Only reason to explain them both naked laying in bed together. He remembered the fountain but pretty much everything after that was a blur. He quickly dressed himself as he waited for Mercedes to finish her call.

"Please stop yelling! It's been a crazy morning already." She sighed. 

Tina continued. "Mercedes I took you on as a client because you were the responsible one. But this..."

"What are you talking about?"

"How about the fact that you and Sam got MARRIED!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

"We did what now?"

Whoever this Tina was, she was a very loud person. Loud enough for Sam to hear. "My mother is gonna' kill me" he whispered more so to himself. He went to grab the remote and turn on the tv and there they were on TMZ. A picture of them kissing at the chapel and even a scanned copy of the marriage license. Sam ran his hands though his messy blonde hair before giving Mercedes a what the fuck look.

Tina cleared her throat. "Get home immediately, do not answer any questions, do not say anything."

Mercedes closed her eyes trying to remember the night. Then her eyes open wide. "Tina I swear it was a Joke. We went there as Brooke and Ryder. I have the copy right here." She ran to the side table looking for the license and quickly grabbed it and saw it on the floor. She sat back on the bed staring at it as the phone fell to the ground. "Oh my God."

Tina could still be heard from Mercedes phone on the ground as she stood there looking at what Sam assumed was the same marriage license he'd just seen on the tv. He stepped over to Mercedes. tightening his towel  around his waist so it didn't slip. They definitely needed to talk about all of this.

Mercedes didn't say a word she just stared at the paper in front of her. She could have sworn she wrote out Brooklyn not Mercedes. Her eyes scanned to the groom's name seeing if Sam wrote Ryder but he didn't. "What the hell did we do..."

" Apparently we got married." he tucked his lips in before letting them go with a pop. Before he could say anything else he had an incoming call from the back pocket of his jeans. He retrieved his phone and answered it. "SAMUEL DWIGHT EVANS! I can not believe you did something like this! You're 25 with a budding career and lot's of young female fans. What possessed you to do such a thing? Oh my Barbara...how am I supposed to spin this huh?" Sam sighed out of frustration. "Rachel...relax. Look I'll come straight to you when I get back in town." she was still talking but he hung up on her mid sentence.

Mercedes shook her head. "I'm sorry I blacked out what?" She looked at Sam. "Tell me that this is a dream."

Sam was going to every blog site that he knew of and they were front page on almost all of them. She turned his phone around to face Mercedes. "I don't think so." he shook his head. "Looks like we really...got married."

"Oh Go- I am gonna be sick." She held her stomach fearing the worst. "Wait it's okay, we just...we just get it annulled. Yeah we were drunk and clearly out of our minds. Yeah we just get it annulled and it's like nothing ever happened. " she said talking to herself.

Sam nodded. "Wait what the heck is an annulment?" he genuinely asked as he went to retrieve his clothes from the bedside, returning to the bathroom to quickly get fully dressed.

Mercedes glanced up at Sam realizing that he was talking to her.  "Oh um it's kinda like a divorce but this was more of it being like it never happened. I am sure they can spin it as a prank we just have to get back home." She sighed. "I am sorry this happened Sam, I should have never let my guard down...."

"Ahhh I get it." he nodded now understanding the concept. There was no way they could stay married. They barely even knew each other and Mercedes was only kind of cool with him in the first place. "You have nothing to be sorry about, it was both of us letting loose. LA little too loose I guess." He closed his eyes taking a deep breath  and suddenly last night's activities began to flood his head. It was still blurry but clearly they'd consummated the marriage...a few times last night.

Mercedes sighed standing up and sitting right back down, her body finally feeling the effects of last night. Flashes of her and Sam, on the bed, the wall, in the shower. Her eyes opened wider as she glanced at Sam. "Oh my Lord did we have sex too?"

Sam nodded. "My back was pretty scratched up so I'm going with yes." Sam took a seat next to Mercedes and grabbed her hand in his. "Look we can forget about it if you want to. We'll go back home and get this thing annulled or whatever and go back to normal."

She looked at him, eyes blinking but not really retaining what he was saying. She sighed as he took her hand in his and nodded. The sooner they got rid of this problem the sooner. 

After packing and having help to sneak out of the hotel. They found themselves on the short plane ride home. Within an hour of leaving the hotel they were in the conference room of her Label. Waiting to hear from her management and his.  Waiting to hear how angry they were.

Sam was sort of going through the motions with all of this. He had about a hundred text messages...ninety-nine being from his mother. He didn't bother opening them though. He knew it was full of chastising texts asking how she was supposed to explain this to all of her friends. He sat nervously on the opposite end of his wife. It was weird to think they were actually legally married. He wanted to talk to her and get an idea of how she was feeling. Earlier she was mostly in shock and disbelief. Before he could part his lips Rachel came walking in in her best business attire.

Mercedes glanced up as Sam's manager walked in followed by Tina. Tina took a seat next to Mercedes and sighed. "So I know we both can agree that this was not what we all expected when you left for Vegas. And while we both feel this should have been avoided...still can't believe you of all people did that Merce, but I digress, the Label and Production Company has come up with a way to resolve this."

Sam was all ears because he himself had no idea of how to fix all of this. It had already hit every major blog site and news broadcast. If they admitted it was a drunk mistake they'd look incompetent but if they went along with it, they'd be judged just as harshly. "I'm not used to taking a backseat by any means but I'll let Tina explain everything we came up with." Rachel held out her hands giving Tina the floor

"Thank you." Tina said standing. She knew Mercedes would have some issues with their plan so she wanted space from her. "So the problem is that you two got married while drunk in Vegas."

"It was a joke! We were supposed to be in character." Mercedes argued.

"Maybe so. But if we annul it, you two may seem unreliable and flaky, you may even cost the movie some much needed good press. So we are a team that thinks the only way to save face is for you to remain married."

"Wait what?" Sam turned to Rachel with a confused look on his face. So they were going to force them to stay married for the sake of the movie? Sam was clear this wasn't what Mercedes wanted and he definitely was not ready to be anyone's husband. As Rachel chimed in Sam sort of zoned out watching Mercedes the entire time. He was doing his best to read her mind. "...we've already arranged a little press tour to solidify all of this. Ellen, Jimmy Fallon, and The View." Sam caught the tail end of Rachel's sentence.

Mercedes shook her head as she listened to what they had to say. "No. No it's not happening. I am sorry but you can not expect us to stay married." 

Tina sighed. "It's the mess you got yourself into. Mercedes you have worked your ass off for your career and do you really want one mistake to ruin it? This is the best choice and then after a year you guys can divorce."

"No...no. There has to be another way." Mercedes said softly.(edited)

Sam's ears perked up and he finally mustered up enough confidence to respond to Mercedes. "Maybe it won't be that bad...the movie will be out by then right?" he directed toward Tina and she nodded. "We can have one of those short lived Hollywood romances then eventually everyone will forget about it." Mercedes was clearly adamant and sticking to her guns and Sam couldn't blame her. But maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.

"Am I living in the damn upside down!?!?!?!?!?!" She said standing and running her hands through her hair. "I don't have a choice do I?" She said looking around.

Rachel stood placing a calming hand on Mercedes' shoulder. "I am afraid not. But we will do our best to make this a comfort for you and Sam. You'll honestly thank us in the end. Both of your careers are going to skyrocket because of this. Trust me."(edited)

"My career? DO you think I give a damn about that? I  am more concerned with my family! If my dad doesn't kill Sam, my brother will." She placed her hands on her head. "It's why I haven't even turned my phone back on."

Sam's head shot up at the mention of him being killed. He hadn't even thought about her family. He gulped nervously, running his hands through thick blonde strands of hair. "...killed? Rachel...I didn't sign up to be killed." He'd already had a taste of Mercedes' ex boyfriend this morning. He wasn't sure he could take too much more of the other men in her life.

Tina laughed. "She doesn't really mean to kill. They will just scare you." 

Mercedes sighed looking at Tina. "Is this really the only choice we have?"

Tina nodded and Mercedes looked at Sam and sighed.

"I'm not that bad, I promise." Sam always tried to make jokes that lightened the mood. Even if no one else was in the joking mood. He still wanted to get Mercedes alone so they could talk about this together. After all, they would be the ones who would have to put up this facade. And if they were going to this they both needed to be as comfortable as possible...if that was even possible.

Mercedes sat back shaking her head. This was ridiculous. 

"Tina looked at her. "So now that we are on the same page, what are you all thinking." 

Mercedes didn't say a word, she just sat there thinking about her family and her future.

Sam knew his family would have their opinions...he was too young, his career was just not taking off, blah blah blah. But he didn't care. He stopped caring about what they thought a long time ago. "Well on top of the press run, we'll have you guys go on a series of date nights, something the media can eat up. Then a People Magazine shoot, because people love newlyweds." Rachel was salivating with excitement.

Mercedes listens but has nothing to say. This was all too much. She heard Tina ask if she was listening and she nodded. "Huh? Uh yeah of course. If this is what you think is best then lets do it."

[deathfrisbeeinthetardis]

Dark is the Night, but You're Safe with Me

People seemed to like the first one I wrote Light on the Hill, so here’s a sequel, @q-unsolved I wrote a second one to the dream-inspired one :)

Summary:  

They shoot a three-parter episode to get the fans familiar with Shane. The flashlight turns on a second time against Shane’s smile, and the dots connect in Ryan’s head. or What if they stayed the whole night.

Read below or find it on Ao3! 

“I don’t think they have the power to turn it back on again frankly. I really think they don’t”

He doesn’t think he’s breathing at the moment, that’s how tense he is. His nails are digging into the rubber gip of the camera extension and the door handle is a sharp pressure in his side as he leans back as far as he could, away from the stupid kitchen counter and the stupid flashlight.

“Ryan?” Shane’s grinning, tone almost chiding as he knelt down to get a closer look. How the fuck was he not freaked out by this?

The flashlight turns on.

Ryan screams, of course he does, it’s a sensical response. Shane’s laugh rings out at the same time, face illuminated on one side by the glow of the maglight, eyes curving into crescent moons.

Something in the back of Ryan’s mind clicks. He knows those eyes. They belonged to the warmth on a cold streetside when he thought he was losing his mind, years ago. But this is Shane, has always been. And a demon just turned the flashlight on a second time.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Ryan half yells as he crosses the short distance and sticks his face up against the innocent-looking flashlight, looking it over under the glare of his own. There has to be a tampered switch, remote control or something , anything that wouldn’t suggest a demon is here. Even though the whole point of their three-part trip was to find some evidence of the supernatural, he’s not sure he wants it now.

“Keep in mind that we have to spend the night here.” Shane says with a smirk, and yes, that is definitely his friend. No one knows how to get under his skin that well.

As if it wasn’t already enough, a metallic scraping noise behind him has Ryan whipping his head around, just in time to see the light cut a bright arc across the dark counter.

And yes, maybe what Shane says about the thing being cylindrical is a good point, but it doesn’t necessarily mean Ryan’s mind hasn’t already conjured about a thousand ways they could die if the demon can move a flashlight.

“It shouldn’t be rolling back and forth like that.” Eric says, and it really doesn’t help.

Ryan’s starting to regret bringing along the paranormal investigator. He had thought it would help since they didn’t know much about ghost hunting yet, but having even him get unsettled is just adding to Ryan’s panic.

“You should have never talked to it dude, what is wrong with you?!” The words come out harsher than he means, and Shane tilts his head a little. The act almost looks predatory.

When Shane lays down on the black splotch on the basement floor, Ryan is beginning to see a trend in how these sorts of supernatural investigations are going to go.

“Rock and roll buckaroo!” The dude is enjoying this way too much for his own good.

Ryan utters some mild protests that increase in intensity when Shane starts offering him up to the demon as well. The spot where the pentagram was supposed to be didn’t really bother him, it just looked like someone poured some questionable stuff on the concrete, or possibly even lit a few small bonfires. But he didn’t like how he felt in this house, and being in the basement is just adding an extra chunk of distance between him and the front door.

 "The light’s on Ryan! Look at the light!“ Shane exclaims happily, finger pointing. On his part, Ryan’s brain is struggling to process the phenomenon without damaging his sanity.

Ryan bolts out of his seat cause there was no way he was staying near a spot of demon activity. The simultaneous movement of all three of their flashlight-holding hands plunges the room into a mess of light and stretched out silhouettes. Combined with the stress of the whole situation, Ryan was starting to lose confidence in his eyes.

Because for a split second as Shane fixes his gaze on the chair, it was like a piece of darkness extended from the edges of the room to engulf his face in shadow, his eyes looked almost entirely black.    

“Demon, we got ‘em.” Shane’s looking at him with that mischievous curve to his mouth, and Ryan leans against a wall to slow his heartbeat. These investigations are going to give him a heart attack some day, what was he thinking when he signed up for this?

It makes you feel alive , his brain supplies, with a voice that sounds way too much like Shane.

Ryan sets up an extra camera on his side of the living room, cause if he was going to get demon-murdered for the internet, there’d better be footage of it that the crew can use to tell everyone.

He lies in his sleeping bag next to Shane, and gets struck with intermittent irritation when he hears his friend’s breathing smooth into light snores between sentences. Everything’s so quiet, and the lack of sensory input is getting to him. Living in LA means there is always someone making noise somewhere, music, traffic, the occasional scream or two.

Here in the suburbs in an empty house, there’s nothing.

They had turned the lights off, and the moon’s not having its brightest time through the windows, so most of the room blend together. Ryan’s neck muscles are on the verge of revolt with how he keeps craning his head to look around. Shapes keep popping up in his vision, and the rational part of him– that had done research on human eyes before the trip– knows that’s a signal from his eyes that he needs to chill out for a second, but he just can’t bring himself to.

One of the many cons of having an active brain, he can barely shut it off when he needs to. Maybe that’s a good thing, he thinks, at least he’ll see them coming.

“You won’t.”

“Wha-?” He sputters a little, the sudden interruption to the silence jolting him half out of his sleeping bag, a hand clutching at the little plastic bottle of Holy water. Its just Shane, looking up at him from where he lay, head pillowed on his hands. He couldn’t have just said that, that would be like, like mind reading. Had he missed a question from Shane?

He tries again, more coherent this time, “what do you mean?”

“You won’t see them coming, not here at least.”

Cold sweat is starting to break out across Ryan’s face, and the bottle in his hand crinkles. “Okay, what? I swear Shane if you’re fucking with me right now I’ll, I’ll kick your ass tomorrow.”

“Very scary, Bergara.” Shane shoots back, and Ryan groans, gently easing back down to the ground. His whole body is going to be sore tomorrow.

“Shut up Shane.”

He’s pretty sure he’s said that more times on this shoot than he has the past two years of knowing the man. It would seem that ghost hunting exacerbates Shane’s sarcasm and goof level. The fans are probably going to love it, which means they’ve gotta up the level even more. He stifles another groan and rubs his face with a hand.

“Nothing is going to happen to you.”

“How can you be sure?” Ryan’s never heard his voice that small, he’d be embarrassed if he wasn’t so scared.

“You know how.” Shane looks at him for a long time with the same smiling eyes and the smallest tilt to his mouth. It’s too much, the quiet and the fear and the listing familiarity of it all. Ryan shivers a little, and it has nothing to do with the chill.

“It’s you.” he breathes, and the memory of warmth and light dig its way into the forefront of Ryan’s mind.

“It is,” Shane’s still smiling softly. Ryan searches his eyes, bracing for a change, but they stay their normal brown. “It’s certainly a risky situation here, but you don’t have to worry, you’re safe with me.”

There is a part of Ryan’s brain that starts to freak out about the confirmation of the danger here, but the majority’s still reeling at this realization, and the strange not-changes they made to the situation. A glance at the red dot on the camera confirmed it’s existence. Good. He’s going to need footage of this to convince himself it wasn’t just a dream.

“Hey, come ‘ere.” Shane holds out an arm so Ryan can scoot closer, tentatively laying his head on his shoulder. “I’m proud of you Ryan, you knew all this existed and yet you’re still willing to explore, the bravery of the heart doesn’t falter.”

“And what about you? I mean, you can see it right?” He feels calm settle over him like a blanket, Shane’s hand on his shoulder a gentle pressure grounding him to reality.

“Oh yes, and let me tell you, it is one ugly fucker,” Shane chuckles under his breath, and Ryan could feel it rumble through his side, “I meant every word I said down there, we’re a package deal. If Sallie wants a piece of you, it’s gotta get through me first, and the demon’s got nothing on me, my friend.”

“You’re insufferable,” Ryan grumbles into Shane’s shoulder, but he finally manages to close his eyes against the dark room. The fear is still there, but it’s dulled, pushed back by whatever powers Shane wielded. He’ll deal with all of this tomorrow. He’ll talk to Shane, figure out what this meant, and come up with a plan.

The darkness doesn’t seem as threatening now.

They sleep there for the full night, a successful end to their three-part episode.

Coffee and some serious editing magic later, their watch count rockets through the roof, a rapidly increasing fanbase clamoring for more of the nuanced pairing of the skeptic and the believer.

Ryan finds himself smiling at Shane at the next desk, it’ll be a tough fight not to tell the world, now that he has a piece of evidence right at his side, but he can live with that.

Better the devil you know after all.