#we’ve seen him type on his phone with one finger so clearly he’s behind a little

[fyodior]

i love the idea that since he’s immortal sometimes fyodor still gets confused by the most random modern developments. like he’s a computer genius but he’s stumped by revolving doors and jumps a little when he first sees a roomba. he once turned his phone flashlight on and had to call ivan bc he couldn’t figure out how to turn it off

[babypinkbruno]

Friends to... Lovers?

idk what this is, just a quick little one shot i thought of, super indulgent, might give it a couple of chapters?? pairing: Mista x female reader/Yn <3

no trigger warnings, just pure fluffy, but also slowburn.

wordcount: 3,854

synopsis: you and Mista are flatmates, and when you're having a time dealing with your ex-boyfriend, a thunderstorm rolls in... which means Mista has come to bother you for a movie night <3

Rain pelts the bedroom window loud and cold.

Yn sits cross-legged on her bed, texting her ex-boyfriend. She grimaces at the message, a horrible guilt washing over her. As she begins to type a message in response, her bedroom door bursts open, and in strides her flatmate. ‘Mista,’ Yn says in surprise, hastily shoving her phone behind her and under her pillow. ‘What is it?’ Mista grins at her, shutting her curtains. ‘It’s Friday – you’re not working, which means, let’s have a movie night.’ Yn watches him as he bustles around the room. ‘Geez, you gotta clean up in here.’ Mista kicks aside a hairbrush and picks up discarded clothing from the floor. ‘When was the last time you cleaned up?’ Yn rolls her eyes dramatically. ‘No worse than your room.’

Mista flops down onto her bed, leaning on his elbow. ‘Your phone’s ringing.’ ‘I– yeah, it is.’ ‘You gonna pick it up?’ Mista raises an eyebrow. Yn shakes her head, swallowing awkwardly. ‘It’s… well, you know who it is.’ Mista’s expression changes into one of disgust. ‘He’s still around?’ Yn looks at him sheepishly. ‘Yeah… He um didn’t take kindly to me breaking up with him.’ ‘What do you mean?’ Well…’ Yn pulls out the phone from under the pillow and shows him the text messages. ‘Well, you see what he’s been saying.’ Mista rolls his eyes, but his expression softens when he looks back at Yn. ‘I told you to just block his number. This is stupid – he’s a prick.’ Yn flops back onto the pillows and sighs. ‘I know. I’ll… get round to it.’ Mista looks at her, hesitating. ‘I don’t know why you let yourself get hurt like this.’ He gives her leg a small pat. ‘Come here.’ Yn glances at him wryly and opens her arms. ‘Alright, but–’ Yn’s words are cut off by the sound of Mista flopping down onto her, hugging her. ‘The way he talks about my friends… about you. It’s horrible,’ Yn murmurs. ‘Oh yeah?’ Mista replies with a frown. ‘What does he say about me? Let me guess – he hates my guts.’ ‘You’d be correct,’ Yn says, nodding. ‘He thinks you and the others are bad influences.’ ‘Ha, clearly he doesn’t know the real you.’ Mista grins, poking her side gently. Yn smacks his hand, avoiding his tickling. ‘He accuses you of… Well, sleeping together…’ Mista’s eyes widened slightly. ‘What? You and me?’ He says, astonished. ‘I’m gonna slap the piss out of that dickhead. We’ve been friends for years and he thinks I’d hit on you?’ ‘You’re talking as if you don’t,’ Yn laughs. ‘It’s different – you’re my best girl, you’re my friend,’ Mista adds the last part hastily. ‘You’re also way out of my league.’ ‘You stop that right now, Guido Mista,’ Yn scolds, pointing her finger at him, and waving her hand when he tries to bite at her finger. ‘You’re gorgeous, and so funny. You’re out of my league!’ He chuckles lightly, his chest inflating slightly at the compliments. He smiles wryly, ‘Talking like that is exactly why your piece of shit boyfriend thinks we’re sleeping together.’ ‘Well, I guess I see your point.’ ‘We’re best friends, babe. We’ve seen each other naked; we hang out every day, we’re always telling each other stuff most people probably shouldn’t know. We’ve been through a lot together, it’s natural for us to be comfortable with each other. That still doesn’t give him the right to make assumptions,’ he says, rolling his eyes. ‘Or to shit talk about me, and our other friends.’ Yn notices the way Mista’s cheeks turn pink. ‘Well, yeah…’ Yn can’t help the way her heart flutters slightly. She would be lying if she had not thought of him romantically, or even sexually. She shakes the thought from her mind – if her now ex-boyfriend ever found out… Mista would be dead meat. Before she can say anything more, thunder rolls outside, a low rumbling that reverberates through the windows. Mista glances up at the window, the grey light shining through the curtains, and he remembers why he even came in here – to distract her from the incoming storm. He ruffles Yn’s hair affectionately.

‘Well, I guess the storm is here. It’s time for a movie and snacks, what d’you say?’ Yn watches him stand up from the bed and stretch, looking effortlessly cool in jeans and a loose button up T-shirt. He stops stretching and glances over his shoulder at Yn. He grins, cheekily. ‘If you keep undressing me with your eyes, I’m gonna catch a cold.’ Yn laughs, and rolls off the bed, picking up a stray hoodie from the carpet and pulling it on. ‘Oh my god, is that my hoodie? I thought you were done stealing my clothes.’ ‘I’m sorry!’ Yn laughs. ‘He, um, never lets me wear his… So, I gotta steal yours.’ Mista rolls his eyes when Yn mentions that her ex-boyfriend does not let her wear his clothes. ‘Of course he doesn’t let you wear his clothes. He’s a dick. You look way better in mine, anyway.’ ‘Do I?’ Yn does a little twirl, almost tripping on the carpet. Mista, having quick reflexes, reaches out and grabs her wrist to stop her from falling. ‘Careful, clumsy guts. I don’t wanna have to drive you to the hospital in a storm.’

Yn blushes lightly and avoids his eyes. When did his touch start to give her butterflies…? She changes the subject, tidying up the room, but really just moving objects around haphazardly. ‘What do you wanna watch, then?’ Mista watches her and scoffs playfully. ‘What are you doing now? You’re not even cleaning up; you’re just moving things around. It’s now messier than it was before.’ Yn pauses, a pack of facemasks and a hairbrush in hand. ‘You know, I recall my room being way cleaner than yours.’ Mista raises an eyebrow and laughs. ‘Of course I know that. My room is where the real fun is at!’ Yn pokes him gently in the tummy with her hairbrush. ‘You referring to the string of women you bring home every weekend?’ Mista laughs and playfully swats away the hairbrush. ‘Okay, first of all, don’t come for my love life. Second, that’s not what I was talking about. I mean I’m not some college nerd who still keeps her room clean.’ ‘Pfft, I’m lucky if I can even find you in that dumpster you call a room. I walk in there and it’s like I’m on a safari, searching for some illusive wild animal,’ Yn says, laughing and holding her sides. Mista scowls slightly at Yn’s teasing, but softens into a small laugh, unable to resist her infectious laughter. ‘That must be why you always end up here.’ Mista shrugs, agreeing. ‘True, the bed’s comfier in here. And it smells nicer here.’ ‘True. Maybe I should invite your monthly lovers to spend a night here, show them what they’re really missing out on.’ Yn gives Mista a playful wink, as she flops back onto her bed. Mista looks over at her, trying to ignore the way his belly flutters as he looks at her, in his hoodie. ‘I’ll have you know that the women I bring home aren’t missing out on anything. They don’t need to know how comfy your bed is – that’s my secret, got it?’ Yn’s heart flutters at his flirting, and she sits up, leaning on her elbows. ‘Whatever happened to that girl – Izzy? You were seeing her for like three months, right?’ He shrugs at the sudden mention of a girl he used to bring home on occasion. ‘Ah, that… It didn’t work out. She didn’t, um, like that I was living with you.’ Yn nods in understanding. ‘So, it’s like my ex… I guess we’re doomed, huh, pretty boy?’ Mista scoffs, looking down at her and grinning. ‘Nah. I’m pretty sure I’ll never find a girl who’s okay with me living with someone as beautiful as you. I think I might have to stick with you for the rest of my life.’ Yn grins back at him. ‘Oh, stop it, you. Keep talking like that and I might just fall in love with you.’ Mista raises a playful eyebrow and leans against the bedroom door frame. ‘Oh really? Maybe that’s my goal, y’know? I’m slowly getting you to fall in love with me… and leaving your shitty ex by the wayside.’ ‘You really are such a flirt!’ Yn jokes. There is a moment of quiet and Mista’s expression grows soft. Yn holds his gaze, her heart skipping a beat. She coughs awkwardly. ‘Um, well, what about that movie, huh?’ ‘Yeah, yeah, okay,’ Mista says, shaking the thoughts from his head. ‘Go find a movie, I’ll get the blankets and snacks.’ ‘You wanna build a blanket fort?’ Yn suggests, playfully. Mista grins, rolling his eyes. Truthfully, he thinks it’s adorable when she comes up with these ideas. ‘Yeah, alright, I’m so down. Let’s do it.’

Yn and Mista fistbump playfully, and half an hour later, a blanket fort has been built, snacks prepared, and a movie chosen. A bottle of wine and fresh pizza sits on the floor, ready to be snacked on. ‘I gotta say, this is a great blanket fort. I know the others would be jealous as hell if they saw this right now.’ Yn laughs, holding out her phone. ‘Shall we send them a selfie?’ Mista nods, scooting closer to her, putting a tentative arm around her shoulders. ‘Alright, alright.’ Yn presses her side against him, and grins, taking the photo. She sends it to their group chat. ‘Pretty good photo, huh?’ Mista looks at the phone screen and is taken slightly aback. ‘You look great,’ he murmurs. ‘I bet the others will be jealous of such a romantic setting.’ ‘I didn’t think they would even care about romance,’ Yn says, suddenly nervous at the choice of words. She bites her lip. ‘Um, glass of wine?’ Mista nods fervently. ‘Hell yeah. Thanks.’ He takes the glass from her hand, feeling a spark of something jolt through him as her fingers brush against his. ‘What shall we toast to?’ ‘How about… good friends and good blanket forts?’ Mista pauses, reminding himself that they are just friends. Best friends. Quit acting like they’re something more… ‘Perfetto.’ Their glasses chink gently, and they take a sip.

Yn’s phone chimes as text messages come in. She checks her phone and laughs. Mista leans in, resting his chin on her shoulder, dangerously close. ‘What is it? The others teasing us?’ ‘Yeah, look–’ She shows the phone to him. Mista’s face grows warm as he reads the messages. Maybe they weren’t as slick as they thought they were… ‘They really are making fun of us!’ ‘Huh, Giorno says “you look awfully cute together,” and Bucciarati says “it’s like watching a Hallmark movie”.’ ‘That’s so like them.’ Yn laughs awkwardly, hiding her blush behind her glass of wine. Mista is quiet for a moment, contemplative, almost. Yn glances at him, a little concerned that he might… say something he regrets. ‘You okay? Here, eat, I’ll press play.’

They eat for a while, enjoying the food, the wine, and the movie. Until it becomes difficult to concentrate. Out of the corner of her eye, Yn can see Mista glancing at her every now and then. It gets worse when there is a sex scene on the screen… Usually both of them are perfectly fine watching that sort of thing, but this time… it’s different.

Yn turns her head slightly to avoid showing Mista her reddened face. Mista, on the other hand, is hyper-aware of her knee gently resting on top of his thigh. He tries to focus on the movie, and he is not sure if it is the wine but every time he glances at you, he feels as though the air is much tenser than usual. He reaches for his glass of wine, trying to tell himself to stop being so weird. Yn clears her throat slightly, coughing as the wine goes down the wrong way. Mista cannot help but grin at her, reaching up and gently patting her back, hoping she is alright. Truthfully, he wonders if she is just embarrassed by the movie. ‘You good?’ Not choking, are you?’ Yn shakes her head, though clearly, she is. ‘Maybe slow down on the wine, I don’t want you passing out on me before the movie finishes.’ Mista grins, continuing to pat her back as she coughs. Yn smiles weakly. ‘That’s not like you… Usually you’re down for a rowdy night of drunken sensuality.’ Mista laughs, knowing she is completely right. It is not often he sees her flustered by a movie, she usually keeps her cool, but tonight… it feels different, somehow. ‘Maybe I don’t want a drunken night, maybe I want a peaceful, quiet night alone with you.’ Yn goes quiet, surprised by her response. Is he… being romantic, or is she overthinking? ‘You’re, uh, just saying that…’

Mista hesitates, confused, wondering how exactly they got into this position, facing each other under a blanket fort. It is as if suddenly every little thing she does is wildly attractive. He tries to remember the last time he felt this connected to someone. Probably never. ‘What? What is it?’ Yn says, suddenly worried by the look on his face. She pulls a blanket up over her legs. He shakes his head and blinks, trying to get a hold of himself. ‘Oh, nothing, just spaced out there for a second.’

Yn searches his face for an answer, and then sips from the bottle of wine, discarding her glass to the side. She picks up her phone, seeing it light up again. ‘Oh… shit.’ ‘What? The gang still making fun of us?’ ‘No, I… I got a text from my ex. He…’ Yn mutters, staring at her phone. ‘I accidentally sent him the photo of us…’ Mista raises an eyebrow and then bursts into laughter as he reads the messages her ex had sent. ‘You sent that guy the photo of us? Why the hell did you do that?’ Yn turns to him quickly. ‘It was an accident; I must have clicked on his name when I was selecting our group chat earlier! Now he’s even more pissed…’ Mista holds his arm around her shoulders, pulling her in to comfort her. He does not feel bothered by the fact that she sent a photo of them to her crazy ex… No, the only thing he feels is a sense of smug satisfaction that it will piss him off even more. ‘You know what? Hand me the phone.’ Yn hands him the phone reluctantly. ‘Why? What are you gonna do?’

Mista takes the phone, feeling giddy with excitement as he scrolls through the messages. ‘Oh, you know… Just wanna send a little reply to this dickface.’ ‘What are you gonna say?’ Mista types something out, a smirk forming on his lips. ‘Don’t worry, you’ll see in a second.’ He finally finishes typing the test and glances over it one last time. ‘You’re not gonna stop me and say it’s a bad idea, right?’ Yn reads the message, a few interesting insults, followed by a delightful “piss off”. Yn remains quiet for a moment, thoroughly enjoying the feeling of being protected by her best friend. She looks up into Mista’s mischievous expression, and smiles. ‘Send it.’ Mista feels oddly satisfied that Yn has finally let him say something to this guy. ‘Now… we wait.’ Yn giggles, leaning into Mista’s shoulder, suddenly feeling very free. ‘I can’t believe you just said that to him!’ Mista’s heart skips a beat as Yn leans into him, her head resting on his shoulder. ‘Oh, I bet he’s gonna be furious. He’ll probably have a meltdown.’ ‘Glad I’m here and not at his house…’ Yn says. ‘Yeah, he’s probably punching his pillow right now. You’re lucky you’re here with me, tonight.’ ‘You always save me, you’re my knight in shining armour,’ Yn says playfully, the wine dizzy and delicious in her words. She taps the tip of his nose with her finger. Mista shivers, the feeling of Yn’s touch warm against his skin. ‘Look at you, such a gentleman! You even let me build a blanket fort, you bought snacks and wine!’ Yn says happily. ‘What more could I ask for?’ A soft smile tugs at Mista’s mouth, a warm sense of pride filling his body. ‘Well, you deserve it.’ ‘Ha, where’d the real Mista go, huh?’ Yn asks, grinning. Her forehead rests against his cheek, and she fights the urge to reach up to kiss him. ‘I’m still here – just being a softie tonight. Doesn’t happen all the time, but you bring it out in me.’

Yn hums as she closes her eyes against the dim TV light, the room swirling with drunken dizziness. She knows she should not kiss him… Not when they’ve both been drinking. ‘You know… How easy it would be to just… give in and kiss you right now.’ Mista’s body freezes slightly, his arm tightening around her. ‘Y-you wanna kiss me?’ ‘Mhmm… Isn’t that what you say to all the girls you bring home?’ Mista pauses, lifting his hand slightly to caress her cheek, his thumb brushing her jawline. ‘No. I’ve never said anything like that to other girls. Just you.’ Yn is taken aback slightly, ‘Just me?’ He nods, his gaze holding hers as he gently traces the line of her jaw with his finger, finding it difficult to deny the feelings he has for her any longer. ‘I don’t wanna kiss any other girl as much as I wanna kiss you right now.’ ‘Oh, my… How much have we had to drink?’ Yn laughs quietly, glancing at his lips, her cheeks turning a lovely shade of pink. ‘About a bottle… but maybe it’s just loosened our tongues. Helped me say what I was already thinking.’ ‘Is that true? Or is that the wine talking as well?’ Yn says breathlessly. She reaches up to stroke his cheek, feeling the little bristles in his cheek and jaw, his warm skin burning under her fingertips.

Mista lets out a quiet sigh, leaning into her touch. ‘It’s the truth.’ ‘But… we’re friends… I–You could have anyone you want.’ ‘What about it? Yeah, we’re friends, but that doesn’t stop me from having feelings for you.’ ‘You have feelings for me?’ Mista watches Yn pull back slightly, disappointment flickering across his face. He takes a deep breath, and slowly nods. ‘Yeah. I didn’t want to come clean this soon, especially after… you and your ex. But, I can’t deny it. I like you.’ Yn fidgets with the sleeve of the hoody she wears – Mista’s hoody. Her heart races in her ears so loud that she can hardly hear his confession. She looks up at him, laughing awkwardly. ‘Maybe… we should finish the movie, and talk about this when we’re sober?’ Mista frowns slightly, and sighs. ‘You’re right, yeah. C’mere, you.’ He holds his hand out to her and she intertwines her fingers with his, leaning into his shoulder. She presses a gentle kiss to the back of his hand. Mista grins at her, gently squeezing her hand. ‘Might as well finish off the wine. But make sure you drink some water.’

They keep their hands locked together, the feeling natural and warm. Yn’s heart races but for now, she relishes in the feeling of being close to someone she knows cares about her genuinely. She sips from the wine bottle and occasionally picks at the last of the pizza as they finish the movie. When the credits roll, a soft song plays in the background. ‘Well, that was… a movie, wasn’t it?’ Mista laughs, shaking his head. ‘Yeah, it was definitely a movie. Not the best one, but still.’ He glances down at her, he is not sure what to do now that the movie is over. Yn meets his gaze, wondering whether now is the moment she should just kiss him, or whether it is just the wine talking, and she should wait. ‘Should we… I don’t know. Has the storm stopped?’ ‘It’s stopped,’ Mista replies, listening for thunder. ‘You feeling tired?’ Yn nods. ‘It’s past midnight.’ ‘We should probably get some sleep, huh?’ Yn nods reluctantly. ‘Are you tired?’ ‘Time flies when you’re having fun, right?’ Mista nods. ‘I am a little tired, yeah.’ ‘Should we pack this all up now, or in the morning?’ ‘Let’s just get some sleep and deal with this in the morning, I can’t be bothered right now,’ Mista says, smiling. ‘Good, that’s what I was gonna say,’ Yn replies. ‘Right, where’s my bedroom?’

Mista jumps up quickly, catching her as she stumbles. He laughs softly, wrapping an arm around her waist. ‘Come on, you mess, I’ll put you to bed.’ ‘Okay, okay, knight in shining armor.’ Mista chuckles at her comment, feeling how tipsy she is as he leads her to her bedroom. He kicks open her door and ushers her inside. ‘Here you go, your bed awaits.’ Yn stumbles into bed, enjoying the pleasant dizziness. ‘I’m gonna wear this to bed,’ she murmurs, pulling the covers up around her. ‘Yeah, go ahead. You’re borrowing it permanently now. It’s a good thing you look adorable in it.’ Mista adds the last part hastily, feeling brave. ‘Good, it’ll be like you’re here with me all night,’ Yn murmurs sleepily into her pillow. ‘Yeah, it’ll be like I’m here… sharing a bed with you.’ The idea of her wearing his hoodie, thinking of him all night creates a delicious fluttering in his chest that he wants to savour for as long as he can.

Yn opens her arms. ‘C’mere, hug me goodnight.’ Mista breaks out of his thoughts and leans down, engulfing her in a warm hug. ‘Just one hug, then I need to go to bed, too, alright?’ ‘Alright… Back to your own room?’ Yn gently tugs on the back of his shirt. Mista nods against her shoulder, his eyes widening as she tugs on his shirt, pulling him closer. ‘I… Yes, I should go back to my own room. You gotta get some shut-eye, and we’re both kinda drunk right now.’ Yn sighs. ‘Yeah, you’re right.’ She reluctantly closes her eyes against the dim lamp light as Mista pulls away. Everything is telling him to curl up beside her in bed, cuddling her finally, but he knows they are both intoxicated – he cannot give in to his desires right now. With a shaky, nervous breath, he brushes the hair from her face, and turns away to turn off the lamp light. ‘I’m gonna go now, okay? Call out if you need anything.’ Yn nods. ‘Okay… You’re too good to me,’ her sleepy voice murmurs. ‘Yeah, yeah. You deserve the world, y’know. Now get some sleep, I’ll see you in the morning.’ With a last glance at her, he calms his racing heart, exiting the room. He leaves her bedroom door slightly open just in case she calls out to him in the night.

notes: let me know if you enjoyed!

[writingsbychlo]

sun in the shadows (11)

word count; 10,191

summary; you go to dinner with stiles, and things that were once great rapidly go south.

notes; you’re gonna hate me. sorry.

warnings; reference to panic attacks, a lot of yelling, just heart pains, y’know?

There was music vibrating the flooring from the apartment next door to Stiles and Noah’s, and it had taken you a moment to distinguish between the two, considering how often it was that the noise was coming from behind this door instead. Swinging open a second later, your flannel-clad best friend stood behind it, a spark in his gaze and a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes when he greeted you.

“Hey, Sti.”

“Howdy, pretty lady. Come on it.” Stepping back, he swung his arm dramatically for you, and you giggled a little as you walked in, bag swinging by your side and keys rattling in your hand as you clutched them with your phone. “I figured I’d drive, it’s easier than taking two cars.”

“That means I get to drink.” You smirked, hanging your own up on the key hooks next to the door, and slipping your bag down from your shoulder to take up a temporary residence on the coat rack. “Where’s Noah?”

“Loverboy is right there on the couch.” Stiles pointed over your shoulder, your brows furrowing a little at his lack of greeting, and when you turned, you realised why. Now that you could see the headphone sitting on his head, you knew why, and you could pick up the very faint humming that was coming from them, unintelligible with the muffled effect, but clearly loud in his ears.

Crossing the room to him, he was focused on his computer screen before him, typing rapidly up at an essay you weren’t entirely aware of, but it was presumably just a final assignment before the end of the year. Placing your hands gently on his shoulders, he jumped rather violently at the sudden touch, and your chin rested on the top of his head as your hands ran a little further down his chest. Sinking back into the couch once the stiffness from his body faded away, the reflection in the computer screen showed a smile, and one of his hands came up to rest over the top of your left. The other raised up, enough to lower the headphones from his head, and leave them hanging around his neck.

“Hey, sunshine.”

“Hey, starshine.” Sliding around onto the couch, you ignored the slight gagging sound Stiles made from the kitchen, taking a seat beside Noah, and he removed the headphones entirely, twisting to face you a little more. Leaning in, his smile shrunk, something softer but a little more serious as your nose bumped against his, before your lips weer brushing together. Once again timid at first, before he was pushing a little closer to you, confidence behind his actions as he left a sure kiss to your lips, smiling all the while.

One warm but calloused hand came up to sit on your cheek, thumb smoothing over your cheekbone each time he pulled back, only to come back in with another peck and another, until you were grinning too widely to let him press anymore. His cheeks were pink when he pulled back to look at you, something sparkling behind his darker brown eyes as he did, and you leaned a little more into his palm, just before it pulled away.

“You two sicken me, I can’t stand to be in this room right now.” You scowled, turning to look at your best friend, and the blush on Noah’s cheeks only got deeper, turning to face his computer as he’d missed the presence of his brother behind you both entirely. “I’m going to get my coat and my jacket, and we can go.”

“Go?” Noah echoed as Stiles left the room, and you shrugged, collapsing back into the cushions of the couch, even if it would only be for a little while.

“I’m going to dinner with Stiles.”

“Oh.” He hummed, and you smirked a little, head tipping to the side to look at him as he tried to hold his face steady. “Sounds fun.”

“Do you wanna’ come too?” You teased him with the tone of your voice, and his eyes narrowed on you a little as he picked it up, but his smile was breaking through the false frown he wore.

“I would, but I can’t.” Raising a brow at him, you prompted him on further, and his gaze flicked to his screen for just a moment. “I have an online lecture in an hour. Can’t miss it.”

“Shame, it’s always more fun when you’re there.”

“Always?” He grinned, leaning in closer again, until his nose was bumping yours, and he let out a breathy laugh against your lips. “We’ve only ever been out together for dinner with my brother once.”

“Yeah, well, that one time was pretty fun. You opened up a lot, I liked that.”

“I like it when you open up too.” He mused, hand landing on your thigh as he moved to place a kiss to your lips, the innuendo not going unnoticed, and you scoffed, twisting your head as not to muffle your laughter, and he grunted when his lips met your cheek instead.

“You’re awful, you know that?” You shoved at him, grinning all the while as he backed off. “So many bad jokes. And dirty jokes. And bad, dirty jokes. That’s all you are.”

“Yeah, but you like it.” He was too confident in himself, and you rolled your eyes, moving to pick up the headphones that still had noise coming from them, and he only watched as you did.

“So, what are you listening to?”

“Your playlist. Well, I mean, the one I made for you. It reminds me of you.” You placed the headphones over your head, a song you were unfamiliar with but had a catchy tune meeting your ears, and you wicked a little at the volume. Reaching a hand up, Noah adjusted the dial on the side of them, turning it down to an appropriate level, and you couldn’t help the tapping of your foot along with the rhythm. “You like this song?”

“I’ve never heard it before, but it’s pretty good.”

“A little time with me, and I’ll have your music taste expanding considerably.” He smirked a little, switching the song while it was halfway through, and beginning to skip through them, clearly in search of one as his eyes were fixed on the computer screen. Lifting the headphones down from your head, his gaze moved back to you, smile flittering for a second as contentment became questioning. “What?”

“You sure you don’t wanna’ come to dinner? I haven’t seen much of you this week.”

He snorted a little, and you rolled your eyes at him, his hand coming out across the cushions to find yours. Flipping it over, your fingers laced together lightly, and he was still smiling when your gaze dragged up from looking at your connected hands to meet his. “We went for coffee twice, and it’s only Thursday.”

“Okay, okay, I get it. I’m clingy.” You mumbled, pouting as you shrunk back into the cushions some more, and he only chuckled at your false mood.

“I like that you’re clingy.” His hand slid further up your arm, griping lightly at your bicep to pull you to sit up again, and his lips moved close enough to your own once again that you could taste the coffee he must’ve had at some point, warm on your tongue when you inhaled. “I’m kinda’ clingy too, but I just meant that we’ve spent a normal amount of time together so far.”

“For what, normal couples?”

“Oh, shut it.” His lips brushed against your own teasingly, sweet kisses that barely touched your lips, and you smiled, pushing up further into him, only to be teased more when he pulled back, just enough to keep your kisses like featherlight dances instead of loving embraces.

“You gonna’ kiss me already? It’s rude to leave a gal waiting, you know.”

“I’m thinkin’ about it.” He whispered, puckering enough that you could finally steal a few simple kisses from his lips, between fleeting smiles and tips of his head, noses bumping each time he pulled back, only to take your chin between his fingers and kiss you again. “Why don’t you stay over tonight? I’ll kiss you plenty more then.”

“Deal.”

“Gross.” Stiles scoffed, and you groaned once again, pulling back reluctantly as you turned to face him. “Tonight is about me, thank you very much. I got problems.”

“You got no sense of timing. What problems could you possibly have?” Noah scoffed, twisted enough to lay his hand over the back of the couch and face his brother.

“That is a topic for me, her,” Stiles pointed at you, your brows raising for a second when Noah’s eyes flicked to your own, and you shrugged, “and a bottle of wine. Let’s go.” Standing from the couch to do as told, you stretched slightly, Noah following and Stiles grabbed his keys from the hook by the door, a hand settling on your lower back, guiding you. “You wanna’ come with us, Noah? I suppose I’ll let you in on all my big secrets. We did share a womb, and all.”

“I can’t, but if you brought me back some food, that would be awesome.” Stiles only nodded, turning away to undo the latch on the door. Grabbing your bag for you, Noah lifted it up and over your shoulder, a barely audible thank from you as he did, and only dipped his head in acknowledgement.

“What do you want us to bring you back?” With your jacket on and your bag retrieved, you were ready to go, Noah’s fingers smoothing the hair back out of your face when you turned to look up at him again.

“You know what I like,-”

“Yeah, you.” Stiles muttered, and you swung your hand out, smacking him roughly on the arm and leaving him to curse and rub it better, turning back to Noah instead. His twin had ignored him, despite the pink hue to his cheeks because of it.

“Just surprise me, I don’t mind.”

“‘Kay.” With eyes flicking to his brother for just a second, Stiles whistled excessively and turned away to the corridor, allowing you just a moment of quiet as he turned away. A few simple kisses, one to your forehead and then to your lips, the latter a little prolonged, before you were being pushed back away towards the door. A soft smile, warm cheeks and then you were leaving, waving goodbye to him before hooking your arm through Stiles’ and letting him guide you away.

Once the front door was closed, the whispering stopped, and a wickedly smirking Stiles turned to you. “So, things between you and my brother are getting intense, huh? When do you both change your Facebook status?”

“Who the hell changes their Facebook status, Sti? What are you, forty?”

“Hey! He flicked at your nose, punching the button for the elevator with his thumb a second later, and as the two of you waited, he turned to face you again. “Seriously, though, what’s the deal?”

“Well, I guess-”

The door pinged, a group of girls that lived down the hall from him stumbling out. They were giggly and drunk, greeting you both warmly with hugs that were weak and smiles that were a little too wide, loudly chatting as they passed you both by. The smell of floral perfume and booze was strong in the elevator, and once the doors closed, you were left in a little shock. “Oh, my God, I feel like I’m choking on perfume. I’m gay, I shouldn’t have to deal with this.”

“I’ve used your bathroom after you got ready, I had to fumigate your cologne out of it.”

Stiles’ jaw dropped at your joke, the machine whirring as it began to lower towards the ground floor, and you giggled at the shocked look on his face. “I do not wear that much cologne.”

“Sure, Sti. Tell me again, how much did your industrial-sized bottle cost?”

“I despise you. That was on an offer, and it’s a refill bottle, it saved me so much money.” You only hummed as the doors opened, and you nodded disbelievingly, following him out of the elevator. Holding the door or the parking lot open for you, he scoffed, a scowl on his face but amusement in his eyes. “Fuck you, okay? You can go hungry.”

“I’ll go home if there’s no food.”

“You’ll do no such thing.” He snipped, knowing it was true, and only a second later, he was grinning again, the two of you making your way over to the powder blue jeep. He held the door open for you on the passenger side, bowing dramatically as he bent at the waist, before slamming the door shut once you were clear, a slight skip to his step as he rounded to his side of the vehicle.

Hopping inside himself, the radio sparked to life with a twist of the keys in the engine, a slight spluttering from the vehicle as it came to life, and his fingers messed with the volume dial, turning it down and strapping himself in. “You know, your brother is a mechanic.”

“There’s nothing wrong with my car.”

“Yeah, they are totally supposed to make those sounds.” You teased, and he patted the dashboard, one hand smoothing over the worn leather of the steering wheel.

“Don’t you listen to her, baby. She’s just jealous because her car isn’t as cool.”

“You’re so weird.” The words came out as a laugh, and then the music filled the silence, his attention moving to the roads before you both. It was always comfortable with Stiles, and despite his erratic tapping or the slightly grainy radio that he insisted he was fine, driving with Stiles was like taking a step away from real life. It was disconnecting, just for a moment, and oddly enough, it was one of the few times when he was quiet.

Today, though, was different. Stiles was different. He was a little twitchy, skipping between small talk topics like the weather and the latest movie trailers, like there was too much on his mind for him to contain, but he was trying to distract himself. He was so busy that you barely got a word in between here and the restaurant, just trying to process every piece of nonsense that he was saying. The man barely took a breath until he was falling out of his vehicle and into the parking lot, the evening chill striking into him for a second and forcing him to pause.

“Got a lot on your mind, Stiles?”

“Yeah. Kinda’.” He sighed, biting down on his bottom lip to quiet himself when it looked like nonsensical jumble was going to start pouring from him again, and he shrugged slightly, before choosing to offer his elbow to you for your arm to weave through his own. “I want to hear the specials before we start unpacking all of that.”

“Then we’d better get you inside. The suspense is killing me.”

With a little tug on his elbow, his clumsy footsteps fell into step beside you, lanky legs taking shorter steps as you took strides just to keep up with him, and a gush of warmer air washed over you both once you stepped inside. The smell of mixed spices and warming meals hung in the air, music made of chimes and upbeat notes playing from speakers in the ceiling and low lighting to set the tone for the evening as the sun outside was setting and leaving the city shrouded by dusk.

You were seated, a reservation under his name that was spelt incorrectly on the sheet, and a table in the back corner with plush seats was given over to you both. The table cloth was long, thick white cotton brushing the exposed skin on your thighs as you tucked yourself in. Your waitress disappeared after handing a menu over to both of you and taking a drinks order, leaving you to sit in silence, with an empty glass each, and a jug of iced lemon water, which your friend was quick to pour out.

His foot was tapping agitatedly against the ground as soon as he had sat back down, sipping continually at his water until the glass was half empty, and you took pity on him. Reaching a leg out under the table until your foot could press up to his, the bouncing of his heel stopped, his eyes raising up to meet yours, and his face crumples a little bit.

“Tell me what’s wrong, Sti.”

“I know, I just- I want to talk about it, but it’s really stressing me out. I feel like now that we’re actually here, it’s more real.” He sighed, giving in to his stress and letting his elbows rest on the table so that his chin could fall to his hands, and he was staring at you expectantly, like you had all the answers.

“I can’t help you ‘til you tell me what’s up.”

“You mean to tell me you’re not a psychic?” He smiled, sitting up straighter again when the waitress returned, and he took his pop immediately, lips sealing around the straw as he took a long gulp of it, and she produced her notepad.

You’d barely had a chance to look at the menu, opening it up and flicking your eyes over it, you looked for the safest option, something you already knew, letting Stiles fill the time with chatter to the waitress as he ordered his own meal. Placing your orders and letting her disappear, Stiles watched her walk away, and then glanced around the restaurant for a while, before his gaze finally came back to you.

“Okay, fine. Stop staring into my soul.” The edges of your lips flicked up at the sides, but your amusement didn’t last long, because he barely even reacted to his joke, the frown on his face becoming permanent. “I feel like I’m losing everyone in my life.”

“That’s heavy.” Your breath left you very suddenly, like a punch to the gut as he spoke, and he shrugged, looking vulnerable as he stared at you. “Shit, that’s not what I was expecting.”

“Yeah, well, I need advice, and I figured, that’s what best friends are for, right?”

“I suppose so.” You sighed over-dramatically, a smile forming on your best friend's face as you did. His hand was resting atop the table, scratching lightly at the table cloth. You weren’t even sure he knew he was doing it, fidgeting was just a by-product of his anxiety, and your hand settled over Stiles’ across the table, calming his movements. “Why do you feel like you’re going to lose everyone?”

“Well, you know, you’re whatever it is you and Noah have going on, which is to be expected, I knew you were going to meet someone someday, but sometimes it’s hard when you come over and it’s not to see me. It feels odd.” It was a hard confession to be made right off of the bat, a slight guilt pooling in your lower abdomen, and he shrugged, but wouldn’t meet your eye.

Squeezing his hand lightly, you turned it over, holding it carefully and raising your second to be able to hold it even tighter, his hand squeezing back over yours in response, and a seeking of comfort. “You know, when you first started dating Derek, you had way less time for me, and I had to get used to that. Our Friday movie nights became your and Derek’s date nights, and that hurt at first, but I got used to it. Because it made you happy, and I wanted you to be happy.”

“I forgot about our Friday movie nights.” He gave a small smile, forcing his gaze to rise so his eyes would meet your own, and you gave one in return.

“You’re not gonna’ lose me, Stiles. Haven’t you already got plans to be my maid of honour?”

“I guess it would be a shame for you all to miss me in a fabulous dress.” He tried to seem positive, like his problems were solved, but you could still pick up the fear and hopelessness that he was trying so hard to cover.

“You’re my best friend, Stiles. I don’t know what I’d do without you, and I never want to know. Maybe after college we won’t see as much of one another, and maybe we won’t get to hang out like this as much, but I’ll always be there for you.” He heaved a heavy sigh, sinking more into his seat, but this one felt a little more relieved. “You know, your brother has these same kinds of fears. You should talk to him.”

“He does?”

“Yeah.” You lifted your drink, taking a sip, and he groaned disapprovingly.

“You can’t just leave it at that! I feel like Noah is slipping away too, tell me about him, so I know how he feels.” His tone was begging, and you once again felt that pang of guilt, shaking your head as your glass was lowered back to the table. Despite taking a drink, your throat was dry once again, and you cleared it lightly before speaking.

“I can’t, Stiles.” His face crumpled, a pout forming on his lips, and you mirrored him. “It’s private stuff, things between me, him, and my files. I can’t say anything.”

“You can’t say anything?” He echoed you, eyes narrowing on you slightly, like he was analysing you, and you couldn’t figure out why.

“You should talk to him.” You pushed, ready to question the looks you were receiving, before a plate was landing in front of you. The shock made you jump a little, a plate landing before Stiles too, and you had never even heard the waitress approach with your meals. She was smiling brightly, clearly unaware of the tension between you both and the weight of the conversation looming overhead. She offered you drink refills and sauces, and everything you could possibly need, before she was leaving once again. “Your brother loves you, Stiles, and I know you love him. If you just talk about this, you’ll work it out.”

“Despite the weirdness of you dating my brother, it’s kinda’ comforting. You know us both so well, your advice is specialised.” His brows wiggled, and you rolled your eyes lightly at him. As you picked up your knife and fork, beginning to poke through your food, his own scraped slightly against the plate, a mumbled apology for the wince it caused. Before he was tucking into his food.

“So, do you want to tell me about your problems with Derek?”

His gaze snapped up to yours, shocked and astounded, his vigorous chewing paused as his full cheeks went still, and you pushed a polite forkful of food into your mouth as your gaze stayed locked with his. His chews were slower, and he choked down the large mouthful all in one creating a loud gulping as he did, following it with a large gulp of water. “How the hell did you know that?”

You smiled despite your mouthful, chewing again and swallowing your first bite as he continued to stare. “Well, you know, for starters, if your problems were solely about myself and Noah, you’d have turned to Derek for advice, plus, Derek was not invited to this dinner. You’ve also been having a lot more little disagreements with Derek than usual lately, and lastly, you haven’t spoken about him once yet today. You normally always want to brag about your big beefcake boyfriend.”

“I thought I was the one who wanted to become a criminal profiler.” He teased, cutting up more food on his plate as he took a break from your lingering gaze to stare down it, and thinking about his next words.

“Spill.”

“Pushy.” He teased, taking another bite, and the silence only lasted for a few seconds longer, before taking another mouthful, chewing on one side of his mouth to be able to talk. “It’s not really an issue, it’s more of a disagreement. He wants to jump right into life, right?”

“I’m not seeing an issue.”

“Because there isn’t an issue. Just a difference on when.” Your brows furrowed a little, waiting for him to explain, and he was pushing food around his plate with his fork. “I want to jump into life and all, I do, but I want to take a break. A gap year, or whatever. Maybe travel, maybe stay put, but just take a little break.”

“And Derek doesn’t?”

“No.” Stiles huffed, stabbing slightly too aggressively at the piece of steak on his plate. “He wants us to move in together, he wants to get an apartment on the other side of the country where his family’s law firm works. He doesn’t think we need a gap year, he just wants to go straight into life.”

“What I’m hearing is that you have a loving and devoted boyfriend who misses his family and wants to live with you.”

Stiles stared at you, appalled for a second, before picking up a fry with his fingers and pointing it at you. “Don’t simply my problems when I’ve overthought them all in my head.” He bit the end of the fry aggressively, and you crossed your knife and fork on your plate, the meal half-eaten as your hands came to join in front of you.

“Just because Derek wants to move across the country and start working doesn’t mean you can’t still take a gap year, Stiles.”

“What do you mean?” He was puzzled now, his brows rising and that sweet look of confusion on his features that made him look so young, and he continued to munch through his fries at an almost alarming rate.

“I just mean that it sounds like Derek is trying to build a reliable and secure future for the two of you.” His face softened as he thought about it, before a little guilt was coming in. “You could move in with him, and while he starts working, you could take a gap year. He can take days off, and you can go out and do things together, and you can have your gap year full of wild experiences just like you want. Then, when it’s over, you already have a plan in place.”

“Huh.” He sat back, staring a little beyond you as he spaced out for a second, and you filled the time with your own food, trying not to take too much amusement in the way his face visible flickered with various emotions as he thought about your words. “You know, I may have slightly over-reacted in my last conversation with Derek, then.”

“Well, you’ve never been known to be dramatic before.”

“I will stab you with a fork.” He mumbled, sticking his tongue out at you, and you couldn't stop the burst of laughter that escaped you because of it.

“Thanks for proving my point.” You mocked, and his eyes rolled.

“You suck. Shut up and eat your pasta.” Using his own fork, he reached across, ignoring your protests and making mocking and false threats to stab you with the instrument, before taking several chunks onto his fork, and forcing it into his mouth unattractively. “That's good pasta.”

You cringed as he spoke through his food, watching up swallow it once again, before moving back to his meal.

“That’s what you should get Noah.”

“You think?” Your body buzzed with a subtle spark of excitement just at the mention of the man’s name, and Stiles seemed to pick up on it, smirking as he stared at his plate, picking up more food with his cutlery.

“You guys are, like, really into each other, huh?”

You could only shrug, poking at the remnants of your food, the nerves of a talk you knew was coming but finally being here making your appetite shrink. That didn’t seem to matter though, because the second that you placed down your cutlery to indicate that you were finished, Stiles was reaching across, beginning to pick at your food as he’d finished his own.

“It’s okay. I mean, I know I make a lot of jokes, but you’re good for him.” His words made a smile rise, it was beyond your control, and your hand came up to rest on your cheek, leaning it against the table. “I think he’s pretty good for you, too.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Stiles smiled, taking all of the dishes and stacking them, moving them away from yourselves to the edge of the table. “He was talking to my dad the other day. I know my dad knows of you, and I mean, I’ve definitely told my dad some stuff about the study and you guys hanging out, but I heard Noah talking to our dad about you yesterday. Pretty sure it’s the first time, he seemed kinda’ flustered.”

“That’s so cute.” You hated how much it made your heart flutter, and a burning wave of heat rush through your body, ducking your head down to hide from Stiles how wide your grin had gotten. “I mean, we haven’t put a label on things, but, that makes me feel secure.”

“I think you bring out the best in each other. It’s nice. You’re brighter with him, and he’s bolder with you.”

“Thanks, Sti. That means a lot.” He grinned, his hand reaching out across the table again, squeezing yours when your palm was pressed to his, and silence fell between you both once again. The restaurant itself was loud, it was busy with the evening rush and the windows to the outside were now black as the night shrouded you in, but there was a bubble formed around the pair of you at this moment.

“So, are we wanting to take a look at dessert menus?”

You jumped, once again caught off-guard by your waitresses silent approach, and you swore she would make an excellent assassin. Or maybe you were just very distracted, but that didn’t matter.

“Uh, absolutely we are. I fuckin’ love the chocolate cake here.”

“Good choice.” She grinned, swiping up the plates and moving away, you were only left alone very briefly, before she was bringing back the one menu for you to look over.

With some persuasion from Stiles about sharing desserts, a request for two spare plates and a fresh set of pasta and some sides to be boxed up for Noah, your waitress was leaving, probably quite happy in the knowledge she’d be getting a very decent tip. Which she did, of course, because she was lovely, she wrapped up your spare food herself and always had a smile, offering refills but never invading your space.

By the time Stiles was paying the check and marking up a tip, you knew it was over 20%, but she’d earned it, and the two of you had become high on laughter and the simplicity of putting everything behind for just a few moments, as you’d giggled and joked like gossiping housewives over dessert.

Your sides were sore from laughter and your cheeks were aching from your smile, and for a while, there wasn’t a single thing in the world to worry about, it was simply you, and your best friend, spending quality time together that lately had been missed, as life had come crashing down.

Stiles was much more cheery as the two of you drove home. He sang to songs on the radio, and he stared out of the window each time you pulled up to a stoplight, and the tension between you both was much lighter. As the two of you got back, there was much more of a pep in his step as you walked back into the building than there had been when you’d left, and you suspected it was due to the weight that had been lifted from his shoulders.

Even if the issues were not entirely solved, Stiles had once been trapped in a maze that seemed like it had no way out, but he had now garnered a clarity, like a light leading the way, a key to the door that trapped him. He just had to build up the bravery to use it. His keys jingled in his hands as he fished them from his pocket once you had stepped from the elevator, along with the rustle of the bag of food swinging by your side each time your leg bumped it gently as you walked.

“We’re back!” You yelled, the door slamming behind you as Stiles closed it, and you jumped a little, sliding your bag down your arm and hanging it up, the paper bag with spare food stored inside rustling in your other hand.

“That was the worst ‘honey, I’m home’ I have ever heard.” Stiles teased, hanging his keys back up on the key rack.

“I don’t know, I thought it was pretty good.” Noah’s slightly deeper, slightly raspier voice appeared around the edge of the doorway, and your attention moved to him. He’d changed, swapped out from his day clothes into his pyjamas. Skinny jeans had become baggy pyjama pants and his jumper had become an old baggy t-shirt, hair a mixture between messy and flattened by the band of his headphones, with a sweet smile on his face as he reached out.

Holding the bag of food out to him, his grin stretched wider, and he stepped forwards, both hands landing on your hips instead, and you couldn't help the growth of your own beam, even as Stiles scoffed beside you. “I literally hate the pair of you, it’s disgusting.”

“Go be bitter somewhere else.” Noah mumbled, stepping a little closer, and Stiles’ shoes squeaked against the floor as he wandered away. Soft and delicate kisses were pressed to your lips, a few sweet pecks. His fingers pressed into your skin more as he held you a little tighter, pulling you a little closer by the grip on your waist, and you hummed against his lips when his head tipped to the side. His tongue dared to poke out, tracing along your lower lip slowly, and you chuckled, pulling back to look at him, your nose bumping his own when he whined a little.

“Easy, tiger. Plenty of time for that.”

“Weren’t you the one who was begging me for kisses before? I’m just holding up my end of a deal.” He teased, your cheeks heating, but he didn’t get a chance to notice before his lips were already moving back in to capture your own in a loving and heated kiss, and you couldn't help but return it. Despite the smile on his face and the matching one on your own, slow kisses were shared between you both, your free hand coming up to tangle in the hairs at the base of his neck. “I laid out some clothes you can wear to sleep in.”

“The comfy green sweatpants?”

“Well, you were so fond of them last time.” His smile became a smirk, the images associated with the night he was talking about flashing behind your eyes, ad the phantom feeling of lips tracing over your skin sent a shake along your spine, goosebumps rising on your skin. It seemed that he knew the effect he had on you, and the care he’d given you afterwards when offering you the clothes the first time. “Was thinkin’ we could watch a movie?”

“Definitely, but I have a little work to do first.”

“That sucks,” He tipped your face up, pressing a few kisses along your jaw, and your knees went a little weak as he did, your hand lightning against the handle of the bag as you gripped it. “You sure? You could leave it ‘til tomorrow.”

“You’re playing dirty.” He only hummed, teeth teasing a little over the skin of your jaw, and your breath was shaky as it came out. Finding a little strength, your hand slipped from his hair to his chest, pushing him backwards, and there was an adorable pout on his face as he looked at you. “Go listen to music, or something. I’ll work for as long as it takes you to eat your food, okay?”

“Fine, but I’m choosing the movie too, and since you’re insisting on being boring, you don’t get a say in it.” He leaned back in, stealing a final peck from your lips as you attempted to complain, noises silenced and he walked away from you with a cheeky grin, back toward the living room. Taking your folder from your bag, the pen and highlighter you’d brought still clipped to the top of it, and you left it out on the kitchen counter, the bag of food that you’d brought following it.

They both sat there, in the few minutes that it took you to slip away to Noah’s room and change, leaving your clothes folded on his desk and your shoes tucked down on the floor beside his chair. When you returned, Stiles was in his comfy clothes too, and he was picking through the bag of food you’d brought home, already unpacking it as his brother sat on the couch.

“You know, that food wasn’t intended for you.”

“Yeah, but, I’m hungry again.” He shrugged, peeling back the folded tinfoil edges and lifting the cardboard off. Swiping the carton out and away from him, you turned your back on him, taking the bag too and turning away from him to face the counters behind yourself. “Please, I’m hungry.”

“You’re greedy. You have snacks. This isn’t for you.”

“When did you become such a mom?” He grouched, reaching past your head and into the cupboards in front of you as he grinned, taking out a couple of bags of chips and a jar of dip from the fridge. When he left your peripherals, you no longer knew what he was doing, instead, focusing on sourcing a plate and beginning to serve up the meal from various cartons. Scraping out the noodles onto the plate, and arranging the dry elements around the source, you were proud of the presentation.

The noise of random reality show TV chatter was filling the background, the crunching of Stiles snacking harmonising with it. Grabbing a set of cutlery from the drawer and balancing them on the edge of the plate, you spun around. Rather than two heads at the couch, there was just one, that of Noah, and Stiles was sitting at the kitchen counter.

Your file was open in front of him, the warm joy filling you changing to cold fear so quickly that a wave of weakening nausea washed over you, and the plate in your hand wobbled, the cutlery dropping away to the floor and clanging loudly against the wooden slats. “Stiles, no!”

“What?”

He jumped, just as much as Noah did as he flinched at the shout and the sharp sound, and you reached out to put the plate down before your grip went so weak that you actually dropped it. “What the hell are you doing?”

Noah was on his feet, and Stiles looked like a deer caught in the headlights, his hunched form straightening out as he went stuff, and his eyes were wide, vulnerable shock on his face as he stared at you. “Well, I mean-” His eyes flicked down to the file, and he gulped as he swallowed. “We talked, about stuff, and you said there were notes in your file but you couldn't tell me, I thought you meant that in an ‘I won’t say it out loud but if you happened to read it then that’s okay, ha ha ha’ sort of thing!”

“What?” You all but hissed the word incredulously, and he shrunk under your stare.

“You didn’t mean that?” Stiles’ voice was a little squeaky now, and as he approached, Noah seemed to realise what he was reading, his own eyes going wider as he snatched the file away from his twin. Silence fell across the room, a pit forming in your stomach as your hands trembled a little, and you wondered just what pages Stiles had read before you’d stopped him, and he twisted in his seat to face Noah. “You have secret anger pent up against me?”

“What?” Noah had a shocked look on his face, one that morphed between fear, to humiliation, to anger, before a fiery gaze was turning to you. “You wrote that?”

“No!” Your heartbeat hard, thudding against the inside of your chest with a force that almost hurt, and you wrung your hands together. “I mean, not in those exact words?”

“Well, then what the fuck did you write?”

“Uh, just that you basically fucking hate your own brother!” Stiles interjected, a hurt look on the younger twins face, and you knew he was doing it on purpose but he was making everything that much worse. “You hate me, you feel like I abandoned you, you feel like I don’t care!”

“That’s not true-”

“It's not? Then why does it feel like everything makes more sense now that it’s out there, huh?” It was Stiles’ turn to yell, your ears ringing from the volume and you were scared by the stare they were both fixing one another with, pure fire burning in both of their eyes as each refused to back down from the other. “I knew something was wrong, I fucking knew it! You never talked to me about this stuff, you never talk to me about anything anymore!”

“I’m the one that doesn’t talk to you?”

“Yeah!” Stiles stood, hands on his hips as Noah’s chest rose and fell with heavy breaths, both of their faces growing a little redder from the heat of anger, and you could barely breathe.

“You never talk to me! You just started your stupid fucking podcast, where you broadcast your feeling out to everyone in the world except for me, and you shut me out!” Noah burst, seemingly regretting his words, and hurt etched its way onto Stiles face for a second, his shoulders, slumping slightly, and his hands fell flat at his sides.

“That’s what you think? That I would rather talk to everyone but you?” Noah shrugged, and a flicker of pain amongst the betrayal and anger on Stiles’ face made your heart break behind your ribs, before yet another blow was delivered from your sarcastic friend. “You think that I’m the one that did this to us, like it wasn't you that created this rift? How could you not tell me about all of these problems you have with me, that I never even knew about?”

“What fucking pages did you read?” He tore open the file still clenched in his hands, sheets becoming warped and crumpled under his grip, and as he stared down at them, eyes flicking over the page, there was a range of emotions travelling so fast across his features you could barely decipher them. Silence hung heavy, and he flicked rapidly between the pages, barely taking in the information but flicking between everything you’d highlighted, everything that seemed important during a fit of rage, and you could barely think of anything but regulating your breathing and slowing your heart, never mind how to stop him.

It all became irrelevant, however, when his gaze came back to find your own.

“How could you?” The anger was turned back to you, furious eyes with a shine that only indicated tears, and you tensed up, feeling stuck in the moment, like you were choking on the breath in your throat. “How could you? You said we were just talking, you said- some of that stuff- you lied! You said it wasn’t for the study!”

“I-I didn’t mean for it to-”

“To what? To ruin everything? You’re a fucking liar, look what you’ve done!” There was venom behind his words, and you knew he was hurting, but it still stung. The look in his eyes wasn’t like anything you’d ever seen before, it wasn’t defensive or anxious, it was pure pain and anger, and you hated that you were the cause of it.

“Don’t fuckin’ yell at her, this isn’t her fault, Noah!”

Whipping back to face his brother, Noah scoffed, rolling his eyes and your arms wrapped loosely around yourself to stop the trembling you felt coming on. “It isn’t her fault? It’s all her fault! None of this would have come to light, none of this would be happening if it wasn’t for her and this stupid study!”

“You have all this rage towards me! Do you think that would have stayed a secret for our entire lives? Do you think that would have just stayed tucked away neatly in a box and wouldn’t have affected us?” Stiles’ arms fell flat to his side, the wild gestures you were so used to seeing simply going limp as his shoulders sagged. “It’s not her fault you feel this way, it was bound to come out at some point.”

The shouting fell quiet, and there was a tension in the room that made you feel like if you even so much as flinched something would shatter and splinter.

“You know, when we were growing up it was the opposite way around.” Stiles’ voice was a little hoarse from, the shouting, and he sniffed back tears, avoiding everybody’s gaze as he stared at the floor. “You were that guy when we were in high school. You were the one everybody thought was cool, do you know that? So many girls asked me about you, nobody ever asked about me. You were that mysterious guy that didn’t talk constantly like his annoying brother, with the fixer-upper bike that made everyone think you were so fucking cool, and the attitude and the tattoos and everything else! You were that guy, and I was the dorky brother.”

“You never told me that, Stiles.”

“Oh, rich of you to talk about honesty now.” You’d rarely ever heard such malice coming from Stiles, he was like a ray of sunshine that was currently encased entirely by shadows, and you could barely breathe for the way it felt to be trapped here right now. “The difference, Noah, is that I never held that against you. I always loved you, and supported you, and I never let the way I felt about myself become anger towards you.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Noah was tense again, your fingernails were digging into your palms so hard you swore they might cut right through, and everything was silent.

The first bullet had been fired, the first real shot of the argument had been thrown, and while you could see regret playing on Stiles’ face, there was no way that he could take back what he’d said now. It was out there, for everyone to hear and know, and the way Noah’s face was twisting from guilt to anger again was enough to suggest that he knew exactly what it meant.

“What is that supposed to mean, Stiles?” It was more of a growl now, tension rising once again like a hand around your throat and a stone in your gut that was just getting heavier.

“Shit, Noah! It means that you do this to your damn self, are you happy now?” Noah’s nostrils flared a little, and Stiles ran a hand through his hair, the gelled style he’d done for the evening falling out into an unruly mess. “You have anxiety, I get it, but I wanted to be my own person in college. You were fine in high school, you had your own little group of friends, and you had your bike, and your ego, and you were fine. Then when the loving adorations of stoners and cheerleaders fell away, you caved in, like their validation was all that mattered!”

“That’s not true!”

“That is true!” Stiles fought back, Noah’s jaw hanging like he’d had more to say, but had been cut off. “It is true, and you know it. Why can’t you see what everyone else can? That you’re a fucking great person, Noah, with so much to offer. You’re funny and you’re smart and you’re a great brother, normally, but you can’t see it for yourself. You rely on everyone else to validate you and make you feel special, when you’re special all on your own. You hate me for making you feel less, when you just can’t see how you’re worth so much more. You isolate yourself, and you judge yourself, and you make yourself into an outcast.” You took a deep breath, the kind of revelations you’d never had the strength to even think about finally voiced into the open air, and it felt a little easier to breathe once there was nothing else to be hidden. “Stop hating me because you can’t love yourself.”

“I don’t hate you, Stiles.”

“Yeah? Because right now, it kinda’ feels like you do.”

With that, Stiles was leaving, the slamming of his bedroom door to follow felt like a crack down the middle of the frozen room, and you let out your breath slowly, trying to shake off the feeling you had. It was nauseous, sitting in your stomach and twisting everything up until you practically felt dizzy, but you knew it must be nothing on how Noah felt. Reaching a single hand out, you placed it gently onto his shoulder, his back still to you, tensed from his position, and he jerked away.

When he turned to face you, it was with a deep scowl, and red-rimmed eyes that still shone with unshed tears, and a cold feeling radiated out from the centre of your chest in bursts. “Don’t fuckin’ touch me.”

“Noah..”

“No!” He stepped back, eyes cold as they looked at you and it was enough to make you freeze where you were, once again shocked to the point of immobility. He was trembling, a hint of fear, presumably about losing his brother after the argument they’d just had, but that too was rapidly washed away when he wiped at his face, tears finally shed barely getting a chance before they were gone. “You did this.”

“I didn’t mean to, Noah.”

“You fucking lied to me. None of this is real.” He muttered, letting out a ragged and humourless laugh. “It’s all so fucking fake.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“Yes, I do!” His head was shaking, and there was a feeling you’d never felt before settling into your gut, a horrid combination of heartbreak and fear as you watched him. “You never accepted me for who I was, all you’ve done is try to change me since the day we met. You force me to socialise with people who aren’t really my friends, and to go to places that spike my anxiety and you all it pushing my comfort zones but now I get it, you’re just changing me. You fucking used me for your grade, you used me for fun, you’re so fucking fake.”

“That’s really what you think of me?” It was like stepping into a bath of iced water, a cold feeling that moved from head to toe, electricity in the worst way possible, nothing exciting or new but unsettling familiar and terrifying as it moved all the way to the tips of your fingers in sparks. “You think I’d use you, you think I’m fake?”

“Oh, c’mon,” He waved around, pointing to everything from the clothes on your body to the plate of food going cold on the counter. “This isn’t you. You aren’t warm jumpers on the couch and reheating food, staying in for the night and listening to music. You’re all popularity and prom queen and parties, you’re bullshit. You’re everything I hate.”

“I don’t think you mean that, Noah. I don’t believe it. I think you’re hurting, and-”

“You think I care what you believe? You think I care at all? Stop trying to analyse me, stop trying to manipulate me right now.” He was glaring, heat in his eyes before something like clarity passed over his vision, and you saw the shift in him as he relaxed a little. “You know what? Just stop altogether. Stop trying to change me, stop your fucking study, stop trying to be a part of my life. I don’t want any of it anymore.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.” His arms crossed over his chest, and you tried to stand your ground, copying his motions, until the pair of you were simply stuck, staring one another down. “I mean it.”

“I don’t think you do.”

“I don’t care.” That stung a little, and the calmness of his voice as he spoke made your faith shake, the anger that had been replaced by clarity was wearing you down. “Get the fuck out of my apartment, and get the fuck out of my life. I was doing perfectly fine before I met you.”

“You call secret anger to your brother and unresolved issues ‘perfectly fine’?”

He had a flash of anger again, that and a second of vulnerability, shock at your words as you finally threw a blow at him, but he took it strong, tongue clicking inside of his mouth with snark. “Maybe I was a loner, maybe I didn’t have many friends, but I sure as hell didn’t need you to come in here and try to fix me, because I was never broken!”

“I know that, and I never tried to fix you.”

“You tried to change me!” He yelled back, having at least the decency to look a little ashamed of himself when you flinched, but his stance didn’t change.

“I never tried to change you, I just wanted to help you.”

“Well I don’t want your help anymore, I just want you to get out of my life.” He took a deep breath to follow it, and you were left silent, unsure of what to say. “I mean it. This was fun for a while, while the illusion was still up, but now it’s just a problem, so just leave me alone.”

That struck a little deeper, and your arms feel from their locked position over your chest. You could feel the look on your face change from anger to hurt and you couldn’t help it, because you felt hollow and small as he stared at you. The confirmation came, that your relationship had never even been such a thing to him, it had simply been fun, he thought you were using him and figured he might as well gain something from it too.

The feeling you held weren’t reciprocated, the way he felt wasn’t real, and you took a shaky breath as he continued to stare without remorse to follow his words.

No regret, no back-tracking, no changes. He meant it.

And that was a whole lot worse.

“Fine.”

You moved past him, sure to swerve around his body as you ducked into the corridor, his eyes following you and Stiles’ bedroom door opening again when he peered out into the hall, but you didn’t want to see him either, and it was your turn to slam the door shut.

You felt weak, fingers grasping at the covers as you tried not to cry, because once those tears came you knew it would be a long time before they stopped, and you weren’t ready to deal with that just yet. Your clothes from the day were still neatly folded over the back of his desk chair, seconds later thrown haphazardly across his bed as you struggled to strip yourself of the clothes you’d changed into.

You were shaking, the struggle to undo the knot you’d tied at your waist only made pain turn to frustration, one of your nails tearing as you pulled at the threads, finally coming undone. Your throat was stinging raw from choking back how you felt, and with shaking hands, you folded up the jumper and sweats, leaving them out on the desk, and trying to tug on your clothes. There was shouting behind the door again, muffled voices that weren’t nearly as loud or angry as they had been but still holding rage, and everything felt like it was falling apart.

There was a pang of gnawing guilt in your gut, one you knew was illogical because this wasn’t your fault but it was present nonetheless, and it was already starting to feel like something only pints of ice cream and alcohol could fix. As soon as you’d gathered your things, the door was open again, the voices went quiet, two almost identical faces turning to stare at you.

One blank, the other filled with pity, and you didn’t want to see either right now.

“You don’t have to leave, it’s real late, you can take my bed for the night,” Stiles mumbled, taking a step closer and blocking his brother from your vision, and you were forced to look up to him. He was much a reflection of how you felt, red eyes and sore skin and a frown that felt like it would never leave.

“You know, Stiles, I love you, but with all due respect, I cannot imagine anything worse than staying here tonight.”

He shrugged, lips twitching minutely at one edge. “That seems fair. Do you want me to drive you home?”

You still wanted to cry, and your sniffle made that obvious, but you were still trying to be strong. You meant nothing to Noah, that much was clear, and you didn’t want him to know just how much he meant to you at this moment. Wiping at your eyes when it became apparent the tears weren’t going to leave, you sighed, shaking your head at how nice Stiles was still being, despite it all. “No, I don’t. I’ll drive myself, I’ll be fine.”

“Don’t be reckless, just because you’re mad.”

You ignored Noah, Stiles turning to shoot him a very fast glare, and you moved beyond the pair of them. Swiping your folder from the table, a few sheets were loose, and you didn’t care for them in that time, you didn’t care for any of it, everything you held becoming creased as you grabbed at them. Your bag was still sitting neatly on the coat rack, and with a slightly harsher pull on the zipper, you yanked it open, shoving the notes inside, before swiping it from the hook and letting it fall to your shoulder.

Patting down the pocket of your bag, you couldn't stop the soft whimper that left you when you couldn't find your keys, even after rooting through the purse. You checked all of your pockets too, and as you failed to find them, you were feeling more and more like you were trapped, a caged animal, frightened and alone and the stress made you snap. “Shit! Where are my fucking keys?”

The tears were there now, your voice cracking as you spoke and you didn’t bother to wipe them away because it was obvious, but that didn’t make you feel any less judged by the two sets of eyes on you. A nimble finger and thumb reached past, plucking them from the key rack that your mind had been too foggy to remember hanging them up on, and dropping them into your palm when you held it up. You wanted to small, a silent thank you to Stiles for helping you, but it felt more like a grimace, and your sob was just as apparent when you took a breath. “You sure you don’t want me to drive, or call you a cab?”

“I’m sure, Stiles.”

“(Y/N)..”

Just the sound of your name from his lips, surrounded by so much pity, made your blood boil. “Don’t!” He jumped a little, one of your fingers pointing at him for a second as you glared, and it was your turn to finally be angry. Despite the shell he was putting on, something you knew to be fake from so long of getting to know him, he dared to look guilty, finally, some remorse showing through, and you shook your head at him. “Just don’t.”

There were tears on your face and you knew you looked a mess, the feel of the water dripping from your jaw, the stinging in your eyes and the way you could barely breathe, but you glared a second longer anyway. Your gaze softened as you moved to Stiles, a silent conversation held, before you were gone.

The hallways felt colder, the slam of the door as you’d left made you feel at least a little proud, and the chill through your veins made it easier to breathe. You were being crushed, torn apart from the inside out by how you felt, but the adrenaline of it all was just enough to keep you walking forwards for now, so you followed your feet, and let them guide you to the elevator, hoping it was enough to get you home.

[solaeter]

Confession - Megumi Fushiguro

I’m dealing with a doubt spell so writing is kinda hard, but I’ll get past it sooner or later :’) Word Count: 1,670

Warning[s]: None aside from possible errors I didn’t bother to look for. 

Mutual pining felt like a blessing and a curse. On one hand, feelings were shared without the worry of denial.

On the other hand..

Neither party could take the initiative to admit these said feelings. 

Everyone and their mother could tell that [Name] and Megumi had some serious feelings for one another. You were the only one outside of Nobara and Itadori that he'd hang out with. Hell, he knew you longer than he knew them and tried his best to avoid having you meet them.

Cause as soon as it happened, the bombardment of questions rang through the air. Itadori and Nobara lingered dangerously close, inspecting you and Megumi.

"Since when does Fushiguro have a girlfriend?" Nobara questioned, squinting at you. Her gaze made you shift and her words had your cheeks burning. 

"We're not–"

"Lemme guess," Itadori cut you off and Megumi sighs, "This little lady is the only one who can make the great Fushiguro crumble! Am I right??" He asked, knuckle bumping Nobara once they seen the obvious blush spread across your face and Megumi's.

Now you see why he tried to avoid this meeting, even after you questioned why. They were like pesky little rats, itching for information that wasn't their business. But you couldn't blame them, at least they cared.

"We're not dating. She's just a friend." Megumi mumbled, clearly irritated, if not embarrassed. Deep down he wanted to admit that you meant something more to him. God he loved you, but actually coming forth with that confession felt more difficult than any task he's been assigned to. 

You on the other hand, also wanted to profess your long harbored feelings. Ever since you met Megumi in middle school, you always found him pretty. Especially when he beat up the bullies, goodness it made your heart flutter.

"What he said. We've been friends since middle school." You chirped, offering a smile to the two observers. Nobara crossed her arms. She's watched plenty of romantic dramas, comedies and all the works to know that you and Megumi were hard-core pining. 

"I don't know," She starts, walking around the two of you, "There's something more. Something neither one of you can admit. Don't you agree dumbo?" She looked back at Itadori who blinked at the sudden nickname.

"Yes?" He tilted his head and when she shot him a look that meant death, he nodded quickly. "Yes! Absolutely! I think you two need to have a serious chat." 

Megumi pinched the bridge of his nose. He could only handle so much of these two even though he knew they were right. You also knew what they said was right. But how? How can one admit feelings? Especially if it ruins the friendship? You'd be devastated. 

But for now, you both needed an exit. You pull out your phone and glance at it. Maybe you had an idea. 

"I left something back in my locker that I need for tonight. Wanna join me?" You elbow Megumi, who looks at you as if you were a saint. He nods, grabs your arm and drags you away while ignoring the two behind you. 

"Sorry about those two, they're...something." Megumi decided to be polite instead of rude, after all they did care about him. You hook your arm through his and smile.

"It's fine, you three have interesting chemistry. I think they're good for you since I can't be around all the time." You didn't like that Megumi had to attend a school for his powers, but you were also happy for him. The selfish side of you wanted to keep him to yourself, just like it had been for years. 

"You think so?" 

"Yep, you just gotta open up a little when you're ready. Let them see what makes you so amazing." You gush and Megumi looks away, the praise causing his cheeks to tint with a shade of pink. 

The two of you walk in peaceful silence, arm in arm until you both reach the school gates. Luckily they didn't lock up for another hour, but you didn't really need anything. Megumi wasn't stupid, he knew it was nothing more than an excuse, yet you made the trip here anyways. 

"So.." You break the silence and separate from Megumi, who watched you move in front of him, your school bag hitting the ground with a thud. "Can we uh..talk about something?" 

Megumi felt his stomach lurch and the contents of his lunch threatened to come up. Usually when someone wanted to talk, it could be good or bad. Considering his luck, Megumi only assumed it had to be bad. Yet he remained composed and simply nodded, choosing not to talk in case he faltered. 

"I really don't know how to uh..bring this up." You fiddled with your hands, avoiding Megumi's worried gaze and kicked a random rock into the street. The looming silence that followed felt heavy and nearly made him lose his mind. 

"Bring what up?" He urged quietly, crossing his arms just to keep himself busy for less than a second. His mind reeled and he didn't even consider the possibility of a confession, well at least from you. He's been trying to think of ways to bring it up without looking like an idiot, but he draws blanks after his head says he won't ever get out of the dreaded friend zone. 

"Um..we've been friends for so long. I know everything about you and you about me. I just..after some time I think I might–" 

You're cut off by Megumi grabbing your face, his hands were cool to your warm cheeks and his eyebrows were furrowed as he took a deep breath.

"I love you [Name]." He was straight to the point which threw you for a loop. Your mouth dropped and then closed quickly. The little shit took the words right from you. Granted you were prolonging the confession but you were getting there! 

When you don't answer immediately, Megumi mumbles a quick apology and backs away, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. 

"No, no don't confess and back away!" You pull him back toward you, hugging him once you two collide. His arms wrap instinctively around your figure, even though he was slightly hesitant. He felt like he was treading on glass while you were stupidly over the moon.

"You took the words right out of my mouth." You say shyly, resting your head against his chest. His heart quickly thumped in your ear, much like how yours did the same. 

Megumi's world shifted or so he thought. All his fears towards his feelings vanished and it was like a weight lifted off his shoulders. You shared the same feelings and of course he should have seen it. Others called you both out, especially the two idiots who hounded earlier. Was he really that blind? Or stupidly oblivious? 

Either way, he didn't know what to do now.  

"So we felt the same all this time." Megumi says more to himself and you look up at him. When your eyes meet, he takes a moment to admire your pretty orbs. This was his first time being able to actually look at you without having to sneak glances or be called weird for staring. His cheeks warmed once again and you smiled.

"I guess so. Leave it to us to rely on your pesky friends to actually break the silence." You giggle, adjusting so that your arms wrap around Megumi's neck. He bends to match your height, coming face to face.

The air would usually turn awkward but this time, you both silently stare until you look away with a tiny smile tugging at your lips. 

"What?" Megumi questioned. He didn't know the first thing about romance. Or even women for that matter. But he knew you, like a book. Except at this moment, he felt clueless. His mind ran in circles, leaving him a happy mess inside his head. 

"Oh nothing." You bite the inside of your cheek. His gaze made you squirm and heat shift from your cheeks to your ears as well. Why did it feel so different?? Yet so welcome? "You're just really pretty okay? And I finally get to say it without being looked at funny." You pout, glancing at Megumi who blinks. 

"I– So are you." He responds calmly despite every nerve in his body screaming. You turn your head back toward him and act before you can think by pressing your lips to his for a quick kiss.

Megumi freezes, eyes wide and alert when your soft lips meet his. Though he quickly closes his eyes and keeps you close by cupping your cheek. He didn't think, his body acted on its own and boy did it feel nice. He didn't think he'd ever experience something like this. Something so normal and innocent in his dangerous life. 

When you both pull back, neither one of you can look at one another. Instead you pick up your school bag and drape it over your shoulder. Megumi rubs the back of his neck, fully prepared to face some type of scolding. But it never comes when you take his hand.

"Whenever you're not busy being a badass sorcerer, maybe we can go out or something?" You ask, lacing your fingers through his. Megumi looks down at your intertwined hands before glancing at you. 

"Yeah." He didn't hesitate to answer and started to pull you toward the direction that led home. You hum delightfully and let him lead you without another word.

Did you imagine your confession would happen the way it did? You couldn't say, but you could admit to the hopeless daydreams of romantic scenarios playing out in the most cliché manner. You were swept off your feet by the marvelous, perfect man, yet none of those silly dreams stood a chance at how perfect everything played out with Megumi.

Even if it took two so called idiots to set it in motion. 

[greenninjagal-blog]

The Rumor Mill Game (pt4)

I swear I didn’t forget about this au. This chapter is just....long.

Welcome back to this mess of an au :) If you need a refresher, you can find Part Three [here!] Or if you’re new check out the first part [here!]

Summary: Logan is...dealing with the fallout of him and his coworker, Remus, having created a rumor about them being married and now apparently having a kid except not because Logan screamed at the top of his lungs that Virgil wasn’t his kid. His boss has a different definition for what “dealing” actually means. 

Words: 8292 (Holy shit remember when this au was 2k words)

Read on Ao3 || My General Writing Masterlist

When Logan had seen his boss after he made Virgil cry, he hadn’t expected it to end up like this.

Granted when he hadn’t exactly been expecting anything. He hadn’t been looking ahead, hadn’t been making plans, hadn’t been thinking at all. Which was most likely how he ended up outside the bar in the first place. 

Logan could, of course, count the number of times he had been drunk on one hand. College had been a time for experimenting, and of course for his twenty-first birthday his friends at the time had been insistent that he needed to imbibe an unholy amount of alcohol in one night. They had turned it into an experiment, where Logan documented exactly what he was feeling after each drink and he still had the notes in his desk at home, despite the fact that his handwriting had become illegible after the fifth drink and someone had spilled an orange soda based tonic on the third page. The notes themselves were worthless, but they served as a memoir to people who he no longer associated with and a younger version of himself who had still been learning.

And Logan did have a soft spot for that imbecile: Twenty-one-year-old Logan Ackroyd who still believed in the goodness of people and who wanted to change the world and who could fall in lov--

Logan pitied him-- that kid he used to be-- which he was certain that his younger self would be indignant about. Logan always did hate when people pitied him. Those emotions had rarely ever been genuine, rarely ever been helpful, rarely been productive. What was he to do about people feeling bad for him? About others being disappointed? About others making assumptions about him and how he felt?

He didn’t need pity, and he didn’t want it. Not when he got rejected to his first three colleges, not when flunked that English class and had to pay to retake it the next year, not when he had bought that ring and gotten down on one knee and made a whole carefully edited speech and--

And he’s not nearly drunk enough to deal with these types of thoughts. Or any thoughts for that matter. Wouldn’t it just be great to stop thinking? 

Then he wouldn’t have to remember the looks on his coworkers faces when he storming into the office less than fifteen minutes after initially leaving for lunch and demanded that Beatrice turn in her overdue spreadsheets in twenty minutes or he’d have her fired before slamming his office door hard enough to crack that frosted glass, or the look on Remus- fucking- Prince’s face when he tried to act like everything that had happened was not his fault and that Logan had taken the game to far by himself without any sort of prompting from Remus, or the look on Virgil’s face when Logan lost his self control.

Like an idiot. Like an asshole. Like someone who doesn’t think before he acts.

Like someone who should be alone for the rest of his life, because he can’t seem to get a hold of those useless emotions of his. 

And Logan wanted so very badly to blame Remus Prince for this whole endeavor, the whole production, the whole catastrophe. He wanted to say that without Remus he never would have gotten that angry, wouldn’t have had that conversation, wouldn’t have even gotten Thai today. 

Logan wanted to say that, but really it's his own fault. If he had just dismissed Remus’s rumor in the beginning, if he had just told Jen and Quin that his personal business was his own, if he had just ignored the urge to get coffee and finished the spreadsheets without getting up that last night.

His fourth finger itched around the base, the area where that little silver ring had been sitting for less than a day. It was ridiculous, utterly ridiculous, because Logan had never worn a ring before and now suddenly the absence of it caused his skin to crawl in a most unpleasant, unproductive way. 

Distantly Logan realized that by gifting Remus such a wonderful present, he had also thrown away four hundred dollars. And perhaps ironically Logan noted that he feels annoyed about it-- four hundred dollars had been sitting in a pocket of a dress jacket in the corner of his office for over nine months and he had tossed it aside in a fit of impulsive anger.

Logan had not been hurting for money recently, with how decently he was paid, and the amount of overtime he worked, and how little time he had taken off since that disastrous night.

But perhaps he might have been able to return it to the jewelers and weathered the terrible, awful pitying looks they would give him when he requested about their refund policy or a location where he might be able to sell it himself. It was a ring that was worth four hundred dollars and he had given it to Remus, and isn’t it funny that that’s farther than he got with the one for whom the ring had been originally intended?

And as Logan downed his next rum and coke of the night, he hoped that Remus found a better use for it. Newton knows it hadn't done any good for Logan. 

(Its stupid, Logan knew, to blame a ring for the way that he had screeched “He’s not and never will be our son!” Its stupid, Logan knew, to blame a ring for the way that Remus had hummed mischievously “I think I enjoy being fake-married to you, Logan." Its stupid, Logan knew, to blame a ring for the the way his last partner had said “We should see other people”. Its stupid, stupid, stupid--)

“Hmmm,” A voice behind him said, “I thought I would find you here!”

Logan didn’t realize he had closed his eyes until he heard the voice and felt every atom in his body figuratively threaten to combust. He wasn’t drunk enough to be thinking about him, and he most certainly wasn’t drunk enough to turn and look at the incessantly, perky man that had decided to sit down next to him.

Logan waved at the bartender and ordered another rum and coke and watched his freshly emptied glass disappear like the handful of others he didn’t bother to keep count of.

“And I’ll have two waters, please!” Patton Hart added with one of his peppy, happy, insufferable laughs, before turning to face Logan. “Hiya, Lo! It's been so long since we’ve seen each other!”

“Not long enough,” Logan disagreed, with a rueful smile that should very clearly, very precisely detail how much he does not want company at the current moment. “Don’t you have things to be doing tonight, Mr. Hart?”

Patton hummed, pressing his lips together as he thought-- a monumental task for someone like him, surely. Logan was partially convinced that if he removed his glasses he might be able to see the squirrels beginning to run on that rusted wheel in the other man’s brain. If Logan was of a less logical mind he might even be brazen enough to call this the first time Patton had used his brain all week.

“Well,” Patton said, carefully settling himself on the stool next to Logan. “I was graciously informed by my son that he would be enjoying the perks of being a teenager with no bedtime tonight and along with where exactly I could shove my homemade lasagna.” He laughed lightly, “Kids, these days! He really does keep me on my toes!” 

Logan did his best not to roll his eyes. “I do not know the whereabouts of your son, Mr. Hart.”

“Patton,” He said easily, “And I’m not here for my son. I’m here for you, Logan.”

“If this is about the glass in my door, you are very capable of taking that out of my paycheck.” Logan told him.

The bartender placed Logan’s new rum and coke in front of him and he reached for it almost immediately, only stopping when Patton’s hand landed on his forearm.

“Mr. Hart--”

“Patton,” Patton corrected with that smile that Logan suspected was the worst thing in the world. Worse than Virgil’s blank expression when he told them to get out, worse than Remus’s smug one when he suggested that Logan did indeed enjoy the ability to manipulate his coworkers, worse than Beatrice faulty excel sheets, than broken glass of his door, than a ring he never wanted to see again and yet he still felt like it was missing from his finger.

“Mr. Hart,” Logan said again, “I am going to get horrifically drunk tonight, and I will be calling out sick tomorrow, regardless of what you say. So my advice to you is, say anything of importance now, before I am too incoherent to register and respond accordingly.”

“That doesn’t sound too smart there, kiddo!” Patton said, like he was any older than Logan was.

“I do not feel like being smart right now,” Logan said snippily. Because being smart involved thinking, and Logan had done quite enough thinking for the day. He was tired of thinking, tired of memories, tired of the lump in his chest that had formed during his lunch break and hadn’t dissolved in the eight hours since. He was tired.

“Would you like me to be smart for you?” Patton asked.

Ah.

Yes, Logan remembered suddenly with just a few words why he hated Patton Hart so much. Why he hated those too-wide brown eyes, those stupid freckles, that soft smile. Why he hated the way that Patton had tracked him down despite the fact that he had turned off his phone, the way that Patton had ordered two waters, the way that he hadn’t taken off his jacket. The way that he had taken out his keys and put them on the bar counter between them and Logan could pick out his own house key from the jumbled mess of bits and bobs.

“I heard something pretty interesting today,” Patton said, when Logan didn’t reply because he was too busy remembering why he hated Patton so much.

“Please don’t pretend like you didn’t know about my so-called affair before I did.” Logan snapped. “Honestly, Patton!” Logan dropped his arm from the glass and instead pressed his knuckles to his forehead. “Playing dumb about your own company is my least favroite thing about you.”

“I thought you hated my laugh the most.” Patton looked at him, letting the smile slip into something more serious.

“I hate everything about you.” 

“Pay for the drinks, Lo.” Patton told him, “And I’ll take you home. We can have some of my lasagna and watch a space documentary, like we’re twenty years old again.” 

Logan hated Patton and hated the way his chest ached at the offer. His knuckles bore into the side of his head, jabbing the frame of his own glasses into this temple. He hated the way that Patton was looking at him, soft and sweet and naive.

He hated the way his fingers itched to take Patton’s hand and go home.

“And after all that,” Patton continued so lightly, “You can tell me all about how Remus Prince got under your skin.”

 Logan’s hand slammed on the counter, so suddenly he surprised himself. Patton, however, didn’t flinch, didn’t even blink, didn’t react other than to hold that smile. 

“I am not drunk enough to be talking about Remus Prince,” Logan spat. “Especially not to you, Patton.”

Patton was quiet and at first, Logan really had thought that he had won something-- he thought that perhaps Patton would grant him mercy and let him drown his sorrows alone and miserable in a bar until he forgot his own name. But Patton was too good of a friend and Logan really should hate him less for that.

“You know,” Patton said with a cold type of humor that doused Logan with awareness. Bad awareness. The type of awareness that sunk it’s metaphorical claws into Logan’s chest and pierced straight through his heart before Patton finished what he was saying. “I think….yeah that does sound familiar. Do you remember the last time you said you weren’t drunk enough to tell me something?”

Logan did.

Logan couldn’t forget if he tried. 

And he had tried so very hard for so very long-- except that Remus Prince had waltzed into Logan’s life, had called him a Robot, had smirked at him and run their coworkers around like cattle with pretty little words. Except that Remus Prince had gotten bored and decided that the only logical next course of action was to mess with Logan’s personal life. 

Except that Remus Prince had played along with the rumor game, and smiled at him, and kissed him, and---

And Logan had started thinking---

And Logan’s mouth had started moving--

And Virgil face had--

Logan reached for the glass in front of him, reaching for the cool ice and the spritzy carbonation and the burn of the rum.  

Patton watched him, blinking in the long, slow, dumb way of his that had fooled just about every person that he had come in contact with. With the goofy smile and the habit of deliberately misunderstanding key phrases and making puns and jokes when things were tense, it was hard to see him as anything other than a rich son who became CEO via thinly veiled nepotism. 

Logan knocked back the drink, blinking back the burn behind his eyes that were from the alcohol and definitely not from the lump in his throat that had started dissolving.

He didn’t want to close his eyes, because he knew what he would see when he did: a nice suit, a fancy dinner, a walk to the bridge dotted with fairy lights of all things. He’d see that stupid ring, that stupid face, that stupid end of the night that everyone had told him would be nice, and perfect, and everything he would ever want! 

And he didn’t want to think about how it had not been nice or perfect or anything either of them had ever wanted!

He didn’t want to think about how years ago he had come to a bar just like this, and tried to get so drunk he could pretend that it hadn’t happened, and Patton had shown up then and offered him a job and--

“He wants to go by Janus now,” Patton said, picking up one of the waters and taking a sip.

Logan squinted at him and tried not to be happy about the distraction from his own thoughts, “Who?”

“My son,” Patton said, like it was obvious he had switched back to a neutral topic. “He told me earlier during our phone call he wants to go by Janus, now. He said he’s hated the name Dante for forever. Can you believe it, Lo?”

Logan couldn’t actually. Because he had known Patton since they themselves were teenagers, since before Patton had brought up how empty being a CEO was without anyone to come home too, since Patton had first invited him to Sunday brunch and introduced him to the child he called “son”. Logan had babysat Dante when Patton had business trips and Dante had always been proud of himself, of his better-than-the-status-quo lifestyle, of his name that held power and prestige and weight.

Dante had been practicing saying his name in the mirror since before his voice cracked. Dante Hart, future CEO. Dante Hart, son of Patton Hart. Dante Hart. 

“He’s a teenager,” Logan said, “He’s rebelling.”

“Maybe so!” Patton laughed, and it dwindled down to something that was easier felt in the air than definable in terms Logan was familiar with, “Gosh, I love him so much, Lo. My baby! He’s growing up so fast now! The other day he told me he had a boyfriend. He’s at that stage where he doesn’t want me to help him anymore!”

And despite the buffoon having not had a single drop of alcohol, Patton was tearing up. Logan gritted his teeth at the implications of a weepy, teary, so-full-of-emotions Patton. He had spent enough time in college trying to console him as he figured out the whole “Why does it always have to be about sex? Why can’t I just love hugging someone, Lo? Why does everyone make me feel so broken?” Logan hadn’t been any good back then, and he definitely hadn’t gotten better with time. 

After that disaster with the last guy, Logan had decided that feeling things, frivolous things, emotion-like things, were not something he was into anymore.

Logan learned from his mistakes, after all.

Even the mistakes that started with “R” and ended in a $400 ring being thrown away.

“Is that why you’re here, Mr. Hart?” Logan asked, in that way of his that told even Patton with his squirrel run brain that it wasn’t actually a question at all. “You can’t baby your son anymore so you’ve moved on to the next best thing?”

Patton stuck his tongue in his cheek and set his water back down. “Patton.” He stressed. “And I’m not here to baby you, Logan. I’m here to be your friend.”

He said “friend” like it was a word in the dictionary Logan didn’t know. It was infuriating: the insinuation that Logan had never cracked open a dictionary before, that he was so unknowledgeable about the concept of a friend that Patton was about to show him the online Oxford dictionary definition, like someone who played dumb all day and peppered his windows with sticky notes in the shape of a game of Frogger knew more about something than Logan who had clawed his way up from nothing and was constantly needing to prove how he earned his position.

Patton nudged the second water in Logan’s direction.

Logan stared at it, at the condensation on the glass, at the ice cubes, at the refraction of the low lights from the bar counter. He stared at it like it was a portal back through time that would allow him to slam some sense into poor, pitiful twenty-one-years-old Logan before he let himself fall in Love.

Before he bought a ring or stopped taking days off unless Patton tromped down to his office himself. Before Remus Prince borrowed his cup and before Logan got it in his head that he was serving revenge rather than idiocracy. Before he let himself think too little and say too much and hurt a kid that had never deserved to be upset before in his life.

“If my son wants to be called Janus, I’ll call him that,” Patton says softly. “Because even if it doesn’t make sense to me, it means something to him. And even if my friend is struggling with emotions that don’t make sense to me, I’m still gonna try to help him, Lo.”

Patton ducked his head just a little, just enough that he managed to catch Logan’s strategically averted gaze and make something out of it: a swell of guilt, a sense of hope, a pinch of safety and unadulterated kindness.

His throat was dry, but it was the type of dry that couldn’t be fixed with a glass of water.

“I made a kid cry,” Logan said, because self loathing is a coat he had thought he’d outgrown but he can still fit his arms in the sleeves.

Patton nodded. “Yeah, I heard about that.” He sipped his water. “I think we all have at one point or another.”

“See, the distinct difference that you are missing here, Patton, is that you are a father.” Logan snapped, “And your son will cry at the drop of a hat if he thinks he can get something out of it. And you would never harm a child! Not for any reason in the entire world!”

“And you would?”

“I did.” Logan felt himself sink into the chair, sink like an anchor in the ocean, sink like the floor below him had turned into a blackhole. “I did, I did it. What type of person does that make me?”

“I hate to break it to you, Lo,” Patton said, as kindly as he could, which Logan knew was truly, sickenly nice. He wanted to choke on the sentiment but he found that he couldn’t quite make his chest hurt the way he wanted it too when it came to Patton’s pity.

 “But that just means you’re a normal person.” Patton smiled dumbly, tilting his head and shrugging. “Everyone says things they don’t mean sometimes.”

“You don’t.”

“I do,” Patton countered gently, “Like when I hired Beatrice before realizing that she had lied about knowing how to use Excel.”

“Fuck, Beatrice,” Logan agreed, because if he closed his eyes too hard he thought he might still see grid patterns as much as he might see Virgil’s hurt expression and he hated it so much. So much. 

“I also told-- Janus once that I would get him anything he wanted for his birthday, and he asked for a snake.” Patton shuddered, almost comically, “And you saw how that turned out.”

“I’ve always been impressed with his ability to sneak things into the school buildings,” Logan sighed. “I doubt anyone has ever forgotten that Show-and-Tell.”

Patton chuckled quietly. It was almost lost in the buzz of the other patrons in the bar. He drew a smiley face in the condensation on his glass and Logan reached over to wipe it away, like he had done a hundred seventeen times since college.

“So….Lasagna?” Patton offered. “We can make some garlic bread too.”

“I regret ever meeting you,” Logan said, even as he picked up the keys on the counter between them. He wished that Patton didn’t look so self satisfied, so pleased, so smug when the words tumbled from his lips, but Patton had never been one to pertain to the wishes and whims of Logan like that.

Settling his tab was quick; a pile of bills from his wallet that he didn’t actually check, but decided the bartender deserved anyway and then Patton linked their elbows together so that Logan couldn’t walk off the way that he used to when he would agree with Patton just to get him to shut up. Logan snagged Patton’s glasses from his head and fogged them up with his breath, before taking on the tedious task of cleaning the fingerprints off the lens meticulously while walking in a wobbling straight line. 

Patton laughed like silver bells and it alone brightened the entire street with a type of magic that Logan had long since given up on trying to scientifically explain. The poet in him that Logan had buried under Calculus classes and Statistics courses and a Business degree and only let out when the alcohol out weighed the blood in his system, whispered that it was because it was Patton and his aloofness, and his kindness, and his generosity that never made any sense, and wasn’t that reason enough for the universe to lighten up?

It was drizzling outside, scattered raindrops and dark heavy clouds that whispered of a thunderstorm later. Patton skipped, Logan rolled his eyes and let himself be dragged towards the familiar pale blue punch buggy. It was the same exact car from their college time together, if one ignored the frankenstein replacements of just about every single component in it. Patton clung to the car the same way he had clung to the delusion of Logan being a good friend; sticking close through every breakdown, excusing every letdown, and spending far too much money on it when economically it would have been more beneficial to just let them go.

A wave of self loathing wrapped over Logan again when he pulled on the car door. Patton was genuinely a good person, a good friend. He was stupid at times and he made decisions that made Logan was to strangle him, but he cared so much more than other people. He offered fourth and fifth chances when Logan would have stone-walled his offender at one. 

Not to mention, he had come out in the rain to find Logan specifically, probably traversing through three other bars to find the one that Logan had chosen to be his misery echo chamber.

By some sort of lucky happenstance, Logan had originally walked far enough to hail a taxi  to get to this bar, leaving his car in the safety of the parking garage where Patton’s company paid a nice sum for security. Logan had tried to argue about that expense with him back in the day, but Patton had pulled out a picture of his toothy grinning son-- Janus-- and said “Lo!! What if my son comes to visit when he learns to drive?! I don’t want to worry about him getting attacked in the parking garage!” 

Logan had brutally pointed out that his son would never visit him during work, and so far he had been correct in that assessment, but that didn’t stop him from feeling the slightest bit guilty about his bluntness even so much time later.

Patton had always looked for the best in people, had more strength than most of humanity, had more hope in happy endings that Logan had trust in fact and numbers.

“Is your son okay with me calling him Janus? I’m unsure of etiquette on this. Should I wait until he tells me his preference or should I just make the switch and not bring it up to him?” Logan asked with a sigh as Patton pulled out of the parking spot and set them towards Patton’s house on the other side of town. Unobstructed and following the driving laws, it would only take them about fifteen minutes, and yet Logan wondered about the possibility of Patton having Advil in the car.

The back of his head was already aching from the days events: banging his head on the keyboard all morning leading up to his disastrous lunch date, Remus, Virgil, squinting at spreadsheets until he couldn’t make out the numbers anymore, and the of course stumbling his way to the bar and dealing with Patton.

Patton giggled. “Oh yeah! I asked him earlier if it was okay to tell you. He said he wanted you to call him Janus now. He also said to tell you, you can take a hike.”

Knowing Janus, it was probably something more volatile than “taking a hike”. Most likely it had been something that might have required him to put a full five dollars in the swear jar that they kept on the counter next to the cookie jar. Not that it would matter much. Logan had stayed over at their house dozens of times and every single time he had come across Janus taking that money back out of that swear jar.

As far as Logan was aware, the swear jar had never actually been full. Patton must have noticed at some point-- probably that very first time Janus had taken the money back out-- but he was irritating insistent that he play dumb about it. Thus, Janus continued to swear in excess, Patton continued to make him put money in a swear jar for no real reason, and Logan continued to never understand either of them.

The radio in Patton’s car had been broken fifteen times since Patton had gotten it, but Logan assumed from the silence of the drive that it was now sixteen. He rested his elbow on the window and watched the drizzle turn into a steady rain and the windshield wipers flutter across their vision to occasionally bring them clarity.

The night life was somewhat dreary. The driving pace was slow, and they hit every single stop light in the city because that was just Logan’s luck. There were a few people running around in the rain: a family with a small child who was jumping in every slowly forming puddle on the sidewalk, a couple sharing an umbrella walking so close together they appeared as if to be one misshapen form, a group of friends chatting outside a 24 hour dinner in raincoats, and a few smokers huddled under an alcove with embers burning just enough for Logan to make out their forms through the downpour. 

Logan realized almost immediately that the pit in his stomach was much more bearable if he instead focused on the raindrops on the window that are much easier to look at, much less representing something that Logan had always expected he might one day have, much less accusatory in wondering what is wrong with him that he can’t act like a normal human being, this isn’t working, who wants to marry a robot like you--

That was the reason why he wasn’t expecting the sudden jerk of the car coming to a hard stop at a yellow light that they absolutely could have made. 

“PATTON!” Logan yelled.

The car behind them blared it’s horn and Logan rubbed his neck and reset his glasses from the sudden movement, ready to question what exactly Patton thought he was doing, because truly of all the things Logan was not in the mood for, this was one of them. 

Except that before Logan could get any words out, Patton had put the car in park and whipped off his seatbelt to kick open his door. A wave of rain came pouring into the car as the man threw himself from the driver's seat like there was something wrong with the car, and for a second Logan entertained the absurd idea that they were going to blow up.

Which truly, would have just been a fitting end to his horrific day.

“Patton!” Logan hissed, grabbing after the other’s coat to pull him back inside before the rain soaked into the seats. “Get back in th--”

The other man ignored him, frantically waving to someone in the rain. “REMUS!! MR. PRINCE!! OVER HERE!!”

If Logan knew slightly less about human biology he might have been inclined to say that his heart jumped straight to his throat and climbed its way up his esophagus to strangle him. He wouldn’t have recognized the figure on the street corner on his own: Remus Prince was wearing a black leather jacket and jeans with holes in the knees. He was soaked to the bone, without an umbrella, and his usual bouncy brown curls were matted to his head, as if he had been walking out in the rain for much longer than the rain had been sweeping through the city.

He was standing with the smokers under their minimal tarp, although he, himself, was without a cigarette at all. When he turned at the call of his name, there was only confusion and exhaustion in his face. None of the smugness, or the ego, or the energy that he usually had.

Logan didn’t know why that bothered him. He was hurting from earlier; that was good. 

After all, it was Remus’s ridiculous game that he had dragged everyone else into. 

((Logan’s finger itched and he dug his nails into his skin so deeply he was afraid to glance down in case there was blood pouring off hands.))

Remus ventured out to meet them, dodging across the lanes of traffic without a care in the world, or perhaps with a death wish. Remus didn’t seem particularly like he would mind getting run over by the way that he opened the back door, climbed in, and shook the excess water out in the interior of the car like some type of undomesticated dog. 

“Is this a kidnapping?” He asked, rain dripping down his face. “A murder? Do I get to know your name before you dismember me, cutie?”

Patton laughed joyfully, even as Logan felt his face screw up at the sound of Remus calling their boss “cutie”. It was beyond unprofessional, even if Remus was apparently unaware that his career hinged entirely on not insulting Patton. It took a lot to make Patton angry enough to fire someone-- his patience was the best and worst thing about him, as Logan had been reminded every time they interacted-- but once Remus crossed that line, not even a cockroach like him would be able to drag himself out of the metaphorical wasteland Patton would make out of his life.

Cutie, honestly. Who calls anyone they’ve just met cutie. Logan could understand Remus having called him Lovebug and Lolo, but cutie? 

For Patton?

Patton climbed back into the car, snapping on his seatbelt and managed to get out of park at the very same moment as the light turned green. He wiped his sleeve along his glasses, and brightly said, “I’m Patton! And you already know Logie here!”

“Logie?” Remus repeated, sitting back against the seat taking in Logan for the first time. “Oh shi--”

“Do not call me that,” Logan said. “Patton, you can drop me off at the next corner. I will walk home.”

“Don’t be silly!” Patton said, in the same tone that he had used during their college days to coax Logan into driving him to the nearest grocery store after he had successfully managed to pull two all nighters in a row. Logan hated that tone, and Patton knew that well.

“If you do not stop the car, I will throw myself from it while it is still moving.”

“I can get out, actually!” Remus said far too loud for the small car. Logan resisted the urge to turn around and scowl at him. Surely, his pea-sized brain had managed to figure out that he was the point of contention here and that his best move would be to shut up, so why had he decided to open his mouth? “I need to get home anyway. Big day tomorrow and everything.”

“Oh?” Patton said delightedly because Logan would not ever play into subject changes willingly. “What’s tomorrow?”

“I’m getting fired,” Remus said with a nonchalant shrug.

Patton blinked for a moment-- his squirrel-run brain jamming at the sudden twist of the words because whatever he was expecting from his visitor it was not that. Logan resisted the urge to reach over and give him a shake at the shoulders: of course he wouldn’t be able to expect anything with Remus Prince. The man was insufferable and illogical and he wrought chaos for fun. 

With everything that had happened, did Patton really think that there was an exaggeration in there?

Remus wanted attention. And he said whatever he needed to in order to get it: a fake affair, a fake divorce, a fake child-- Of course he would say he was getting fired tomorrow if it got Patton to have to use all of his meager brain cells to figure out how serious he was.

“Is that something to celebrate, Mr. Prince?” Logan cut in coldly. “Getting fired?”

“And here I thought that you would be happy, Ackroyd,” Remus said. “Unless you think you’re going to miss me.”

“If only I would be so lucky,” Logan said, digging his phone from his pocket, and turning it back on. The screen was blindingly bright and Logan’s eyes ached just glancing at it in the corner of his vision. “Patton, pull over. I am not doing this tonight. Or tomorrow. Or ever again.”

“I’m not going to let you walk home after however many rum and cokes you had, Logan.”

“Patton,” Logan snarled. “If you continue to treat me like you treat your son, I will tender my resignation tonight. Pull over now.”

Patton opened his mouth, but whatever he was going to say was swallowed up in Remus’s empty voice speaking. 

“You went drinking?”

“Do not talk to me, Mr. Prince.”

“You’re not even yelling.”

Logan wasn’t sure what that was supposed to mean, which may have irritated him more than the fact that he was so insistent about continuing to talk when Logan was liable to push the car to crash and kill all three of them. Remus was already staring at him, his expression dark and serious in the passing car lights and somehow Logan thought that he looked vulnerable. 

Logan gritted his teeth as his headache pulsed behind his eyes. 

“Shut up,” he said. “And put on your seat belt.”

“Or what? You’ll divorce me?” Remus pushed forward between the seats until he was just a few inches from Logan’s own face, grinning with all his teeth. It was at once the same smile that Logan had catalogued through every week of working with him and also something completely foreign.

Remus had pulled him into a kiss earlier that morning, and Logan remembered the taste of pickles on his lips just as well as the smirk he kept as Logan walked away. But this expression is somehow inverted, somehow shifted, somehow a weapon more than a challenge.

“Boys,” Patton said. “Please don’t fight in my car!”

“If you did not want us to fight, why did you invite him in this car?” Logan asked. “You, of all people, know my opinions on--”

“Logan, you’re drunk.”

“What does that have to do with this?!” Logan bit out. He glared at his phone: there were three missed calls from Patton and a handful of text messages from him that Logan couldn’t actually read in the combination of the bright phone light and darkness around them. His eyes were blurry even with his glasses on and the frustration of not being able to read only heightened as he made out the notification for his email which meant that Beatrice had managed to finish her work (allowing Logan to be able to go fix it) or that news of him yelling at a child made it around the office and now he was going to harassed by them as well.

All because of Remus Prince’s inability to shut up. 

 Patton threw a hand out and grabbed Logan’s phone from his hand and carelessly tossed it over both their shoulders to Remus.

“Patton!” Logan hissed, rubbing the irritated tears from his eyes. “Remus, give it back!”

Remus, however, was just staring at the phone in his lap like it was some type of bomb. Logan’s phone locked itself and the screen went dark, and still Remus sat inhumanely still in the seat, staring at it, with a type of blank expression that Logan oftentimes related to their coworkers when Logan asked them to perform any sort of math without a calculator.

“Remus,” Logan said again.

Remus jerked at the sound of his voice, snapping out of whatever fit the phone had put him in almost meekly-- if Logan could describe anything Remus did as meekly without it being a blatant falsehood. “Meekly” itself had never seemed to be a word in Remus’s vocabulary which was another irritating fact about him that made Logan break out in figurative hives.

Logan knew how Remus was.

He knew Remus.

It didn’t matter that he had never talked to Remus before today, that his thinly veiled contempt for his coworkers kept him from being willing to stand in their presence more than he was being paid to, that this fake affair was the first stupid relationship of any kind he had gotten outside of Patton and his son since his last boyfriend had dumped him on the night he was going to propose and hadn’t he thought he’d known him too? Isn’t that what led to all this? 

It didn’t matter. 

Logan was smarter, now. Logan was better now. Logan was--

“I don’t…” Remus said, trailing off as he stared at the messages popping up on Logan’s phone and Logan wondered why it felt like his lungs had shrunk right in his chest. “I don’t think you should be reading these right now.”

“He definitely should not!” Patton said, with a very convincing amount of forced happiness. “Hold that for him will you, Remus? Oh and why do you think you’re going to get fired tomorrow?”

Remus looked up at Logan and then at Patton and then back at Logan, like Logan was supposed to know what that meant in addition to every other stupid look he’d given Logan all evening. Logan shoved his glasses up to his hairline and rubbed his aching eyes, and yet somehow that still didn’t fix the pounding in his head or the exhaustion hollowing out his bones. It also didn’t make Remus disappear from the backseat, which was equally annoying, even though Logan hadn’t truly thought he was a shared apparition for him and Patton.

“You didn’t mention anything about today to your… what are you a fuck buddy?” Remus said.

And Patton laughed. 

Logan grabbed the door handle and yanked on it, but of course the ridiculous safety locks were engaged, and Logan had spent far too many sober years getting locked in this car to try to puzzle out the broken locking system in order to drunkenly throw himself out of the car. He was not in the habit of wishing for miracles, or even believing in deities, but he imagined that some powerful entity was finding ruining Logan’s life to be semi enjoyable.

“See this is why I can’t fire him!” Patton said through giggles and Logan thought maybe he was being addressed for this. Patton met Remus’s gaze through the rearview mirror and shook the last bit of water from his damp hair. “You make everything so entertaining!”

“What?”

Logan grit his teeth and yanked on the door handle again. “Remus, meet Mr. Hart, the CEO and your boss. Also put on your seatbelt.”

Remus blinked at them both, leaning between the seats and definitely not putting on his seatbelt. Logan counted backward from ten, reminding himself that one of the hiring requirements for Patton’s company has always been must be the stupid beyond belief. He’d known for a while that his coworkers were idiots on a good day, hazards to his health on bad ones, and yet somehow in the whirlwind of the day he’s had, Logan had forgotten that Remus counted as a coworker still.

“I’m not… getting fired?” Remus said, acting much like a computer after being turned on. “Why do you know my name then?”

Patton shrugged, flicking on his blinker to change lanes before the next light. “You have interesting ideas for your advertising strategy! Of course I would know your name! I’m sorry about vetoing that last one. I know Logan liked it, but I wanted to stick to the family-as-a-whole angle.”

“Patton,” Logan warned with an edge.

“Logan liked…?” Remus echoed, before turning towards Logan with a look of bewilderment that annoyed Logan far more than it had any right to. “You actually look at my shit?”

“Put on your seatbelt, Remus,” he said, because wasn’t it obvious that Logan looked at his things? Before the whole Robot incident Logan hadn’t had a problem with Remus at all: he was effective and efficient and the rumors were irritating but below him to indulge in. Before Remus had dragged him figuratively kicking and screaming into this mess, Logan approved the budgets that came with the projects Remus created.

He still did that, just with more anger than before. Petty feelings for Remus himself aside, his work was objectively good. 

Logan knew that about him.

“So!” Patton said over both of them, with his signature grin that Logan suspected he would still be wearing even if Logan decided to kill him right now. It must be the by-product of being controlled by rodents running on a wheel. “How was your volunteer work Remus?”

Remus froze in the back seat, going unnaturally still again. “Are you some kind of stalker-- uh sir?”

“Will you knock that off?” Logan snapped, which only made Remus’s shoulders jump straight to his ears. “And put on your seatbelt.”

“Just curious!” Patton said, ignoring Logan entirely. “Darlene is a good friend of mine! I make sure to send monthly donations to the organization since I don’t have a lot of free time to jump over and help.”

Remus didn’t say anything to that. He swallowed audibly and leaned back against the seat, dragging fingers through his wet hair and then tucked his arms in his own armpits. Logan pressed a palm to his forehead watching the street lights bend from behind his eyelids because that was easier than staring at Remus act like Patton was trying to pull his teeth out.

“You actually do volunteer work?” Logan said. “You don’t seem like the type.”

“Ha,” Remus said without any inflection. Logan thought that was the quietest that he had ever been. Where was that stupid ass smirk? Where was the stubbornness that pushed back against everything? Where was that loud voice and that confidence?

“Put on your seatbelt,” Logan said again.

“Why do you care if I wear the belt or not?”

“Remus put on your seatbelt or, so help me Newton, I will climb back there and put it on for you, myself!”

The air simmered from the acid in his tone, making the silence figurative chafe against his ribs. Remus stared at him, blinking slowly, with the street lights casting roving shadows on his face. His dark eyes were just so-- so--

Logan dug his nails into his palm. Why was it Remus Prince could make him feel like this? What gave him the right?

“It’s okay!” Patton said, setting the car to park. “We’re here anyway!”

Logan reached up and pulled his glasses back onto his face properly, but it still took him a moment to realize that they were near a bunch of townhouses, double parked outside one that Logan had considered moving into all those years ago when he had first been looking for an apartment for after college.

Remus too, apparently needed a moment to recognize the area. “We… are at my apartment? Holy shit, you are a stalker.”

Patton giggled, flashing Remus with his blinding smile and reached back to pick up Logan’s phone from his hands. “Thank you so much, kiddo! We’ll wait until you get inside all safe and sound, and I’ll see you tomorrow!”

“You will not,” Logan said. “Tomorrow you have a business deal two hours away to complete and if you miss it--”

Patton stretched back in his seat and let out a hugely exaggerated yawn. “But they’re so boring! Maybe I should bring Janus with me. He always makes my business deals entertaining. I love when he sets his snake on people. He looks so happy and he laughs and--”

Logan squeezed his eyes closed and recited the first twenty digits of pi in his head to keep from grabbing Patton’s squirrel run brain and slamming it into the steering wheel.

“Homicide is wrong,” Logan said.

“I’ll help you vouch for insanity,” Remus said. “I mean, tied together through a murder, and possibly hiding a body is much more juicy than a fake marriage that’s falling apart. We’d be the talk of the office.”

“They would not find any body that I hid,” Logan said. “Nobody would.”

Remus opened his mouth to say something more, but whatever it is he decided against it. Instead he slid over the seats and kicked open the door right behind Logan and stepped out into the night air.

“Thanks for the ride, Mr. Hart, sir,” he said, strangely formal, then squinted and added, “Daddy?” 

“I’m not firing you, Remus,” Patton said. “No matter what you call me!”

Logan ran his tongue over his teeth counting each and every one. Remus looked at him but ultimately finally adhered to that whole shutting up thing. He closed the door to Patton’s blue punch buggy and started towards the door to the apartments.

“Oh,” Remus said, and turned back at the last second. He knocked his knuckles on Logan’s window a few inches from where Logan’s gaze fixed itself on a light. Patton apparently knew more about what to do than Logan because he pressed the window lowering button and Remus reached his entire arm into the window to drop a small object right into Logan’s lap.

Logan caught it mainly due to reaction rather than skill and his skin tingled at the familiar item. Even in the dark, Logan’s fingers roll over the shape of the ring that had always reminded him of the worst day of his life. It was still warm from being in Remus’s pocket.

“I think that should stay with you,” Remus said, like it wasn’t a big deal at all. “You know… for the next boytoy you take to your sex dungeon or whatever nerds like you do on weekends.”

And then he turned around and fled towards the apartment building. Patton turned off the hazard lights and slipped back into traffic and Logan wondered if he would be polite enough to not comment if Logan started crying right then and there.

His throat felt swollen, his tongue too big for his mouth, and the headache thrummmmmmed painfully. 

Logan knew Remus Prince.

“You know that Remus Prince isn’t gonna be like him,” Patton said to fill the silence.

“Remus Prince isn’t like anyone.” Logan didn’t whine. To whine would be unbecoming. And childish. And embarrassing.

So Logan didn’t whine and Patton mercifully didn't call him out on his not-whining.

And neither of them mention the choked tone that Logan had for the rest of the night.

When Logan had seen his boss after he made Virgil cry, he hadn’t expected it to end up with him clutching that ring like a lifeline, but as he ran his fingers around the rim, he wondered if it had fit on Remus’s finger at all.

(Part Five)

[moldisgoodforyou]

reunion (i)

warnings: smut !!! 

wordcount: 3.2k lmfao why is it always longer when it’s sexual 

_____

When he finally came to visit - the longest three months of her life, Sophie thought - she saw him from a distance and picked up her pace, heart pounding in her chest, feeling a weird mix of nerves and anticipation. He was clearly lost and glancing around at all the Spanish signs with a confused look, trying to decipher where he should go, until he collided chest-to-face with something - no, someone. 

“Shit, sorry - er -” He racked his brain for the Spanish word she had taught him but came up short once he realized it was Sophie herself, purposely bumping into him. “Sophie!”

She slipped her arms around his waist without hesitation, laughing. “Hi! You’re here!”

And god, if that laughter wasn’t the prettiest thing he’d ever heard. Rafe wrapped both arms securely around her, pressing her to his chest, and inhaled. She had changed some, hair highlighted from the sun and tanned skin all around with some new freckles dusted across her nose, but she still smelled like the lemon and lavender perfume he always loved and her smile was exactly the same, making him feel warm inside almost instantly. 

"God, I missed you so fucking much." He mumbled against her hair.

“Missed you too.” She lifted her head and kissed him, for much shorter than he liked, and he nearly whined when she pulled away. 

"That's all I get after three whole months?" He teased and she grinned, slipping her hand in his back pocket to retrieve his phone and playfully squeezed his butt as she did. 

"You can get more when we're not in the airport, you look like a prime pickpocket target right now." She flicked the collar of his polo - a pale blue, her favorite color on him - with a teasing smile. "C'mon, we have to catch the train. Was your flight okay?"

“Yeah, easy.” His hand found his way to hers like a magnet, not wanting to let her go for a second. “You look incredible.”

“You don’t look so bad yourself. Summer looks good on you.” She grinned, squeezing his hand as they wove their way through the busy airport. Nothing compared to the feeling of being back with his girl.

Rafe refused to let her take his backpack or suitcase, shouldering everything himself. He had left his suitcase half empty, expecting to take home some of her clothes and souvenirs after she had nervously told him she wasn’t sure if she could afford to check another bag. When she showed him some of her favorite things she was going to have to leave behind, over FaceTime with a pout - a unique silk dress and that damned leather jacket - it was easy for him to sacrifice his own space. 

Once they got on the train to get to the city’s center, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her in to press a kiss to her temple. “I’m never letting you leave me for that long again.”

She furrowed her brow, peering up at him. “What if I wanted to travel?”

“Then I’ll go too, if I can.” He declared with a grin. “I don’t think I’m a fan of not having you around.”

She blushed, ducking her head down with a shy smile. “I can’t believe you’re actually here and not just on my phone screen.”

He nudged her chin up with one knuckle, giving her a short kiss. “All real. What are our plans today?”

Sophie brightened, eager to tell him. “We’re meeting my friends for brunch later, but we have time to drop by my apartment and you can shower, if you want. That okay?”

“Yeah. You’re not gonna let me nap, I assume?” He hid a yawn behind his fist. 

She checked her hip against his with a grin. “No sir. We’re doing brunch, then the beach, then I thought we could go to the market and get things for dinner, I’ll cook. Deal?”

He beamed, ruffling her hair affectionately. “Deal. I wanna hear your Spanish skills too, I’ve only heard it when you’re drunk so far.”

She laughed, tucking her head closer into his chest. “That can be arranged.”

_____

After navigating the metro successfully, they made it to Sophie’s apartment that she shared with her three roommates. Rafe scowled when she presented him with his three-day metro card, already paid for. “How much was this?” 

“No te importa.” She told him with a grin. 

“English, please?” He was already swiping for the Venmo app on his phone but she plucked it out of his hand, shaking her head. “None of your business. I don’t want a reimbursement.” 

“C’mon, I’ve missed out on three whole months of not paying for you. I gotta catch up.” He protested, taking his phone back. 

“No. Too bad.” She unlocked the door to her apartment and swung it wide open, smiling. “Welcome to mi casa.” 

He’d already seen the majority of it on FaceTime, but it was nice to be re-oriented. “I love it, Soph. Very cool, it’s very you.” 

“Thank you, thank you.” Sophie then showed him into her room - and immediately cringed at the state of disarray. She’d been attempting to pack before he came and there was a pile of dirty clothes in one corner, her shoes scattered around and some photos and posters piled up to take home. “Shoot, um, sorry. Let me just get this real quick.” She excused herself, flitting around the room to pick things up as he watched, amused, and took a seat on the unmade bed.

“Didn’t think you were the type to have a messy room.”

“Yes, well, I’m much cleaner with roommates around, and you've never seen my room at home.” She replied, satisfied as she tossed her laundry into the hamper. “Oh, can’t forget that -” She walked past him to try and grab a spare water glass on her nightstand, but he grabbed her around the waist, stopping her in her tracks. “Sophie.”

“Yeah?” She had to remind herself to breathe, not used to him being so damn close - and seriously, how the hell did he smell so good after that long of a flight?

“It’s been an hour.” He trailed one hand down to rest along the small of her back, tracing one finger down her spine along the way.

“An hour...?” She bit her lip, looking up at him through her eyelashes.

“It’s been a whole hour since we’ve been back together and you haven’t properly kissed me yet.” He declared, a wide grin spreading across his face, and her cheeks tinged pink. “Is that so?”

Rafe laughed at her embarrassment, resting one large hand on the side of her face to cup her cheek and pull her in. “C’mere, angel.”

She felt her stomach flutter as she kissed him, shortly, then pulled away with a smirk. “Will that do?”

“Absolutely not.” He leaned back onto the bed, pulling her on top of him abruptly and laughed when she let out a surprised squeal. When he rolled them over, kissing her hard, she promptly hooked an ankle around his legs to draw him closer. “Fuck, I missed you.” She mumbled against his lips, tugging at the hem of his shirt.

“I love you so damn much.” He murmured breathlessly, pulling away only for a second to yank his shirt over his head and toss it aside. Hers followed shortly after, along with her bra. When he started working at the drawstring of her shorts, she grabbed his hand abruptly. “Wait, no - I said we’d meet my roommates at brunch -”

“Fuck brunch.” Rafe stated, placing hot, rushed kisses along her throat.

Sophie moaned, scratching lightly along his back. “Rafe.”

“We can be late.” He bartered, reaching down and rubbing two fingers across her through her shorts. She bit her lip hard, trying her best to think of an argument. “I...I told them...”

“I’ll be quick.” He promised, pushing her up the bed and grinned up at her from between her legs. “Judging by the look of you, you will too.”

She huffed, indignant, but it quickly turned into another moan as he nipped along her inner thigh. “Rafe Cameron.”

“Sophie Flint.” He tugged her shorts down along with her underwear in one fell swoop, then licked a wide strip up her entrance. She yelped in surprise, fisting her fingers in his hair. “Jesus Christ.”

“Oh, no, that’s okay, you can just call me Rafe. Cameron works too. Too fast?” He lifted his head, both hands gripping her thighs, but she practically pushed him back down, scowling. “Shut the fuck up - no, no, more. Just not used to it.” She pleaded, moaning again when he got to work.

“Be good.” He flicked her inner thigh when she nearly clamped her legs around his head. “Fucking - sorry -” She barely got out before she was whimpering, trying her best to keep quiet. If her neighbors heard her, both apartments with students in her program, she’d never hear the end of it.

“Wanna hear you.” He mumbled against her, sliding a finger into her entrance and groaning when she clenched around him. “So fucking tight.”

She whined, tugging at his hair. “Need you. Please.”

“M’ right here. Not letting you go again.” He soothed, teasing with small kisses everywhere but where she wanted it as his fingers worked at her core.

“Rafe, please.” She practically begged, trying her best to pull him back up the bed while her brain was going into overdrive.

“Patience, angel.” He admonished, slowing his pace.

“We’re going to be late.” She argued, pressing her hips up into him. “Need you, now.”

“Use your words, angel.” He grinned, loving the way she twisted and whined under him.

“Don’t make me say it - oh, fuck, right there -”

He withdrew his fingers immediately before she could come, smirking as she cried out in frustration.  Rafe then sucked them both into his mouth, down to the knuckle, and she just watched with wide eyes, until she came back to her senses.

Sophie pulled him up the bed and flipped him over so he was flat on his back, her knees on either side of his hips. She worked at his shorts quickly and unbuttoned them, shoving them down his legs just enough so she could pull out his cock. He hissed at the contact, jerking into her hand, and she grinned at him. “Eager, aren’t we?”

“Soph - I’m gonna cum in like, two seconds if you keep moving like that.” He bit out, watching as she slid her thumb gently back and forth over the head of his cock.

When she nodded and knelt down, tongue darting out to wet her lips, Rafe shook his head quickly and nudged her back up. “Not gonna last.”

“Oh. Oh.” She grinned, proud she was still able to work him up so easily. “Fuck, I don’t have any -”

“In my backpack.” He hurriedly interrupted her. “At the bottom, there’s a strip of them.”

“Prepared.” She commented with a smirk, then crawled off him to grab a condom, running her hands down his thighs as she went. He sat up on his elbows to watch her bend over, grinning sheepishly as she caught him when she turned back around, gold foil in hand. “Quit staring.”

“I can’t. I haven’t seen you in this high definition in ages.” He joked, hands automatically going to her hips as she crawled back on him. She took care of rolling on the condom, making him let out a strained groan, before rocking her hips against his. “Alright?”

“Yes, let me - oh, fuck -” He breathed out as she sank down on him, his grip tightening on her hips. She winced, lifting up a little with her hands braced on his abdomen. “Okay, angel?” He asked with concern, reaching up to tug the end of her hair a little.

“Yeah, just, one second.” She sat down on him, slower, and her eyes fluttered shut as the feeling went from a pinch of pain to pleasure. 

“There you go. Good girl.” He murmured as she started rolling her hips against his, slowly picking up the pace.

“Fucking hell.” She mumbled - she’d never quite expressed how much good girl turned her on, but he had seemed to pick up on it over time. He kept a firm grip on her hips or just under her ass, nearly bruising the skin as he helped her ride him, but she didn’t mind one bit. “So full, fuck.”

“Yeah? Doing so good for me, Soph. So good at riding me.” He praised, one hand going up to toy with her nipple while the other went south to her clit, making her gasp when he rubbed steady circles across it.

“Baby, I’m - I can’t -” she started, her pace becoming a little more frenzied.

He was struggling to hold it too, nodding. “I know. Come for me, angel, show me how good you can be.”

His words were enough to push her over the edge and she whined, letting her head drop back as she came, digging her nails a little into his chest. As she clenched around him it triggered his own release, and he groaned, breathing heavy. “Fuck, Soph.” 

They both lay there in silence for a few moments, her head nuzzled into his neck and their pants filling the air. When she moved a little, attempting to get off him, he grabbed her hips suddenly, hissing - and she paused, a little incredulous. “Are - are you seriously still hard?”

He gave her a slow, cocky grin. “Maybe.”

“Oh my god.” She giggled, pressing a kiss to the column of his throat and her phone chimed, making her wince. “God damnit. What time is it?”

Rafe was willing himself to make the erection go away - a difficult task when he was literally still halfway inside her, and she kept shifting on top of him. “No idea. Do I need to take care of this...or...?”

“Um.” She carefully crawled off him and reached for her phone on the nightstand. Sophie bit back a grin and glanced at her phone, shaking her head. “Okay. If we leave in eight minutes, we can make it to the metro stop and get to brunch only fifteen minutes late - Rafe!”

He had gotten up and scooped her off the bed in a bridal carry, then kicked open the door and paused. “Where’s the shower?”

She squirmed, fighting his grip until he put her down, then pushed open a door. “Here. But we can’t go together, it’s tiny. I’ll go first, but I’ll be quick -”

“You’re never quick.” He nudged her from behind, pushing her into the bathroom and followed her in, locking the door. She flicked on the shower then turned around, eyeing him over as she waited for it to get warm, arms crossed over her chest.

“You’re staring.” He accused, smirking.

“I can’t believe you’re still hard.” She mumbled, taking a mental picture.

“Well, I - can you blame me!” He blushed as he gestured at her body, hand going to wrap around his cock. “I’ll get rid of it, just let me -”

Sophie watched with her mouth slightly parted for a moment, acutely aware of the tiny bathroom beginning to fog up and the sight in front of her, unsure if she was lightheaded because she hadn’t eaten yet or - well - because of him. “Let me.”

He looked up at her with darkened eyes and a teasing smile, still slowly stroking himself. “Think you can handle it?”

She sunk to her knees in front of him, sliding her hands up his thighs. “Shut up or I’ll bite,” she threatened.

He laughed, but it turned into a choked groan when she took him completely in her mouth, not wasting any time. “Soph - fuck, I’m seriously not going to -”

She bobbed up and down on him, steadily increasing her pace as her hand worked at the base of his cock, the other hand digging her nails into the back of his thigh. “S’okay.”

“I can - d’you want to -” he struggled to think of a complete sentence, wrapping his hand in her hair and tucking it aside.

“Hm?” She pulled off him to ask, looking up at him through her lashes.

“Don’t wanna - your mouth -” Rafe panted out, leaning back against the bathroom counter for some stability, weak-kneed.

“Oh.” She put her mouth all the way down on him, holding him for a second before pulling away with a shy grin. “Um...you can cum on me. If you want.”

“Fucking - you’re serious?” His eyes went as wide as saucers and she could tell he was seconds away from the edge as she nodded, trying not to look too eager to please. “Gonna shower anyway.”

“Angel. Fucking angel.” He muttered, only pumping himself a few times before coming on her chest, groaning probably a little too loud. She grinned at the way he went slack and reached to pull her up and bring her close immediately, always cuddly post-orgasm.

Sophie dipped her finger in the mess across her skin and licked it with a smirk, holding back a laugh as his jaw nearly dropped open. “Mm. Breakfast.”

“Oh my god.” He leaned down and kissed her, hard. “Careful, or I’ll have an issue again.”

She laughed and shoved him away, pulling back the shower curtain. “We’re so fucked. So late.”

“I am.” He agreed, trying to step in behind her and wedge himself into the tight space. When she poured soap into her hands and began to wash her chest, he shook his head quickly and stepped back, snapping the shower curtain shut. “I’m gonna wait.”

“Rafe, we can just hurry - I’ll wash your hair -” She protested, reaching her soapy hand out for him. 

“No, you’re the problem here.” He laughed, a little strained. “Do your thing and I’ll hop in after, you’ll have to get clothes and whatever anyways. Pull something out of my suitcase for me to wear?”

“You can’t get your mind off sex for three minutes to shower?” She teased.

“I’ve literally been waiting three months for this again. No I cannot.” He smirked, leaning back against the bathroom wall with his arms crossed as he waited.

“I’ve done just fine.” She told him, as if to prove a point. He scoffed. “I think you’re forgetting about when drunk you left me a voicemail about how you missed me so bad, then a separate one - and I repeat - for my dick, because you missed it too.”

“Shut up.” She finished her shower and stepped out, dripping wet, and Rafe had to shut his eyes while he got in, making a show out of looking away. “Tease.”

“Would never tease. Ever.” She grinned and pulled the curtain back just enough to stick her head in, and maybe ogle for a few seconds. “You have two minutes.”

By the time they were out of the shower, dressed, on the metro and walking into the restaurant, it was obvious what they had gotten up to as she met up with a big group of her friends. Luckily, as per the Spanish way, half of them were just as late as Rafe and Sophie and a few didn’t even show til after they arrived.

One of Sophie’s roommates, Isobel, grinned knowingly as Sophie slid into the seat next to her, Rafe in tow. “Metro on strike?”

Sophie suppressed a grin, squeezing Rafe’s hand under the table. “You know it.”

 taglist: @whoeveniskendall @kkmaybank @karsinner @outerbanksbro @outerbankspreferences @randomficsandshit @sunshineitsfine44 @jailcalledlife @tovvaa @moniamaybank @illbesafeforyou @dontjinx-it @freddymaybank @jjmaybankzz @g4bster @oopsiedoopsie23 @babygal-babygal @thecuthoney

[intoanothermind]

Flying Solo - Reggie

Word Count: 2.1k

- Reggie x reader

Synopsis: ever since you died, all you do is walk around the city and watch people going through their lives in restaurants, pubs and other establishments. That is until you meet another ghost in one of these places.

Masterlist

(This is based on a request I asked a few days ago. I’ve tried putting a gif instead of a picture, but tumblr doesn’t let me do it, but I’ll keep tryind. Don’t forget to check out my other Reggie fic and the one I wrote for Luke!)

Stand Tall - Reggie // Akai Ito - Reggie (soulmate au) // Bright - Luke

—

Since I died, I have enjoyed spending time watching the lifers. I walked the streets of Los Angeles and spent hours and hours sitting in restaurants, coffee shops, pubs and other establishments. Many people spent their time on their cell phones or typing on their laptops, but I liked to watch other people interact. I would like it even more if I could eat, but the smell of coffee and pie always calmed me down. And sometimes I would discover some other ghost in those places.

Especially if he moved a customer's food and the person looked around confusedly. I paid more attention when the woman took her eyes off her cell phone, picked up her plate and changed tables, without noticing the two boys sitting at the table. A third boy, who had previously been in front of the counter, sat in the empty seat. They talked for a while - unfortunately I couldn't hear from where I was several tables behind - before the blonde walked out the door and the third boy shortly after. I got up quickly before the cute boy who was making a prank on the client disappeared too.

"Hi." I said, taking the vacant seat for the blonde. "What's your name?"

His blue eyes widened and looked back before turning back to me and pointing at his chest.

"Me?" he asked, confused, and he just seemed even cuter.

"Yes, you." I laughed. "My name is Y/N, what’s yours?"

“Reggie. I'm Reggie.” he smiled and shifted in his chair, looking excited. "How can you see me?"

I shook my head, still smiling. He clearly didn't understand.

"I'm a ghost too." I replied, extending my hand to the side just as a girl passed and my arm went through her.

His smile widened even further, making his eyes narrow.

"Cool!" he opened his eyes wide. "I mean, it's not cool that you died, or anything..."

But my smile has not diminished.

"It’s okay, I had a year to get used to it."

"What did you die of?"

“Car accident last year. I was with my mom coming back from a performance. She crossed over to the other side, I didn't.” my smile became a little sad. "But what about you? How long have you been a ghost?”

"Well..." he made a funny face. "About 25 years ago we ate some bad hot dogs."

I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing. "Really?"

"I know." he made a face of suffering. "It was not our best moment."

"Our?"

"Me and my bandmates."

"Those who were here with you."

"Yes! Luke and Alex. We died together.”

"So you must have seen a lot of things together in the past 25 years." I commented excitedly, leaning on the table.

"Not exactly." he made another funny face. "After we left the ambulance, we were in this dark room where Alex was crying and the next thing we remember is falling into a girl's garage a few days ago."

"So that means I have more ghost time than you do!"

“Oh, but we’ve already discovered some really cool things! We managed to play in front of people when we played with Julie!”

My heart sank when I heard that name and I opened my mouth to comment, but I felt a shiver go through my body when someone sat in the chair where I was. I got up quickly, because the worse thing than passing through people was staying in the exact spot where she was. I looked at Reggie and he too had stood up when another girl sat down where he was.

"Do you want to get out of here?"

"For sure." said Reggie, holding my hand and whooshing us to a beach where I have never been.

It was not as crowded as the most famous beaches in Los Angeles, but it had some movement.

"Where are we?" I asked when I noticed Reggie kicking some sand and sitting with his back to the sea and facing a bike shack.

"I used to live here." he replied while I sat next to him. “This bike shack used to be my home. Every now and then I come here and wonder what happened to my parents. ”

"I'm sorry." I murmured, lying my head on his shoulder and just watching the movement in the store.

"Okay. I'm sorry I spoiled the mood.”

"It's all right. I think about my family as well.”

"But you've only been a ghost for a year." he said, turning his head slightly towards me. "Didn't you ever see how they're doing?"

"Once, two weeks after we died." I whispered. “My family was destroyed. I couldn't see them like that without being able to do anything, so I only come back once every few months to see if they were okay.”

"I'm sorry." he murmured, resting his head on mine.

We stayed there for a few minutes in that position, not saying anything, just watching people coming and going in front of the store that used to be his home.

"Did they really kill Han Solo?" the question was asked so unexpectedly, I could only lift my head from his shoulder and look at him a little confused.

"What?"

"Do you know Star Wars?" he said quickly. "We went to a club the other day and Luke and I were trying to catch up on what we missed and a couple of the living told us that they made about eight more Star Wars movies and that they killed Han Solo!"

"Whoa, easy!" I laughed. "I do know the movies. And yes, they did. His son killed him.”

"What?!" he looked shocked at me. "I think I would rather never know about the continuation of the series."

"I’m sorry." I said, but I couldn't help but laugh at the expression on his face. “It certainly wasn't the best moments in the saga. This latest trilogy disappointed a little.”

"I was hoping you would tell me it was a lie." he grimaced before letting out a breath and getting up. “Y/N, I need to go. We have a band rehearsal. We are playing tonight at the pub we met, you should go.”

I stood up as well and smiled at him a little, but I denied it.

“Sorry, Reg. I had a really big connection to music and my family when I was alive. It still hurts to think about it, so I always avoid it. But I promise that one day I will see you playing. ”

"Okay." he gave a big smile. "See you around then."

And disappeared.

   ~*~

  As the days went by, Reggie and I got closer and closer. We met several times and went to different places. Especially places where I could update him on the things he lost in the last 25 years. But then he stopped appearing beside me with that wide smile and dork way. For several days I didn’t see him, wondering if anything had happened. I heard stories about ghosts who were trapped by contracts, others who ceased to exist, and I was afraid that he had crossed over or was in trouble - and I couldn't do anything to help.

The next time he showed up I was on the beach again, in front of the bike shack, waiting for him to show up at some point. When he appeared, I barely gave him time to pull himself together before jumping into his arms and hugging him tight.

“Reggie! What happened? You went MIA, are you okay? I got worried!"

He didn't answer, just pulled away from the hug, held my face in his hands and kissed me. I reacted instantly, kissing him back in the same intensity.

"It hurt to think that maybe I didn't have the opportunity to do that." he murmured when we leaned away.

"What do you mean by that?"

He then set out to tell me about the Hollywood Ghost Club, the stamp, the shocks, the threats, the Orpheum show and how they managed to touch Julie afterwards.

"Julie?" I asked, feeling my throat tighten. “The girl who can see you and make you visible? Is her name Julie Molina? ”

"How did you know?" he asked, confused, and I had to take a deep breath to keep from crying.

"She is my little sister."

Reggie's eyes widened in surprise. "You are the Y/N who died with Julie's mother."

I just nodded.

“So did she play again? Is she fine?"

He gave me a knowing smile.

“Why don't we go back to the house and you can see for yourself? I think you've gone too long without seeing her. ”

I agreed, still a little stunned.

"Hey Hey." he caught my eye until I looked him straight in the eye. He stroked one of my cheeks and smiled when I blushed. "It's gonna be okay. I was really going to invite you to meet the band. ”

"So let's go." I smiled at his excitement.

He hugged me around the waist and we teleported directly to mom’s studio. It was different from how I remembered. The piano was uncovered, the lights were on, and instruments were scattered on the other side. I think they were the instruments that the boys used. But they were not there.

"Yeah, I think the boys haven't arrived yet." Reggie commented, scratching the back of his neck.

"It's all right." I mumbled, moving towards the piano and sitting on the stool.

Reggie sat next to me.

"Do you play?"

"I used to play with mom and Julie." I said, concentrating my energy on my fingers and starting to strum one of mom's favourite songs. I looked at Reggie and he was smiling at me. I continued to play, feeling the music flowing through me like when I was alive. It was great to know that I could play even now.

"Boys, I already said that you can't play while I'm not ... here."

I stopped playing abruptly when I looked at the garage door and Julie was there looking at me as if she had seen a ghost. Well, had had. I got up from the stool quickly and went towards my sister.

"Julie..." I sobbed, trying to reach her at the same time as she held her hand out to me. But my hand went through hers and I started to cry.

"Y/N." she was crying too. "I missed you so much."

"I missed you too, Jules." I laughed.

"I thought you crossed over, I never saw you here."

“I came here a few times, but you never saw me. I couldn't stand to stay long. I spent most of my time walking around the city. ”

"What about mom?" she asked hopefully.

I shook my head. “I never saw her. She crossed right away.”

Julie tried to dry the tears, but they just kept coming down.

"Please, don’t go." she pleaded in a voice so low it broke my heart. “You can stay here with the boys. Just please don't go.”

I looked at Reggie in exasperation, but he came over to me and rested a hand on my back and I managed to take a deep breath.

"Okay." I smiled at my younger sister. "I’ll stay here."

"Yes!" I heard Reggie murmuring and Julie and I laughed, slowly composing ourselves.

“Julie? Is everything alright here?" I heard a third voice and turned to see the two boys who were in the pub with Reggie when I met him.

"Alex, Luke, this is Y/N, my sister."

Luke, the one with the brown hair, raised his eyebrows in surprise. "The sister you said that died?"

Julie made a face, but I just laughed and confirmed it.

Alex, the blonde, observed my closeness to Reggie and smirked. "I imagine this is also the same Y/N that Reggie kept talking about."

"Eh... Well... It wasn't like that..." Reggie gasped trying to brush it off, but I just laughed as I grabbed his chin and pulled him in for a quick kiss.

I barely noticed the boys' laughter and Julie's comment on how weird it was to see her sister kissing someone. I was too busy drinking on Reggie's expression, who had his eyes closed and an ecstatic smile on his lips.

[littlemessyjessi]

“Tae and Jae” from the BTS 8th Member Series “Untamed”: Mae Jae: Fake Social Media Post Collection:  The Gucci Twins Have A Day: Part One:  Fake Social Media + Imagine

Companion Imagine:  “Tae and Jae” from the BTS 8th Member Series “Untamed”: Mae Jae: Fake Social Media Post Collection:  The Gucci Twins Have A Day

Jae and Tae spend some much needed quality time together.   They go shopping, get food, visits a few places and end up with a cuddle.  It features fake social media posts from Jae and Tae, along with a particularly sweet one from someone who acts like he’s not actually a marshmallow on the inside. Hmm, wonder who that could be? Platonic pairings: #VX aka #guccitwins aka #taeandjae

Two bare feet padded down the hallway.

Green hair, still a little wet from the shower, clinging to a freckled face.

Jae cracked the door open and quietly creeped into the sleeping lump in the middle of the bed.

Pillow clutched to his chest and dark hair tousled everywhere.

She smiled gently as she pulled her phone up to snap a quick picture of a seemingly peaceful Taehyung.

She tucked the phone back into her hoodie before she climbed on the bed with him and began to lightly scratch his back.

He whined in his sleep, turning and trying to get her into his arms like he usually did.

"Wake up, Tae Tae." she said.

"No.." he whispered. "I'm sleeping.  Let me hold you."

"I can't." she laughed. "Because then we couldn't go on an adventure today."

Taehyung's eyes slowly opened to reveal the dark orbs.

"Adventure?" he said, voice deeper than usual with sleep.

She nodded and patted his head, "Yup.  It's all about you and me today.  Quality time.  So get up and get a shower.  I'm gonna finish getting ready."

A slow smile crawled across Taehyung's face until he was fully grinning at her.

"Really?" he asked.

She nodded, "Of course.   We haven't been out together, just us, in a while.  So get your butt in gear and let's go.  I got plans, baby bear."

His grin was massive as she slapped him on the butt and bounded from the bed.  

"Be ready in an hour." she said before returning to her room.

Less that five minutes later and her phone pinged with a notification.

She looked down to see that Taehyung had posted a blurry but clearly excited photo of himself.

She grinned before plugging in the blow dryer and beginning to fix her hair.  

She decided to be kind and sent him a text.

Jae: What car do you want to take today?

Tae:  I get to pick?!  The green lambo! The green lambo!

Jae: Ok, I'll meet you in the garage in at seven.

He responded with a series of excited emoji's that had her wheezing.

She's barely pulled on her shoes when her phone dinged again.

Apparently, not only was he ready but he'd already been to the garage and pulled the lambo out.

He'd posted a picture of the lime green car with the doors up and the caption.

' She let me pick the car today.  Now let's see if I can get her to let me drive it.  #VXBFF'

She shook her head at his usage of their hashtag.

She tucked her phone into the pocket of her black jeans and headed out into the main part of the dorms.

She placed a kiss to the top of Hobi's head as she passed him on the way to the door.

"Be back later, angel." she said, recieving a sleepy nod from him in response.

Jae made quick work of getting outside to see Taehyung's lean figure basically bouncing around in excitement.

She popped the trunk and tossed him the keys before he could ask the inevitable question and he looked as if he'd kill over right there.  

"Really?!" he chirped.

She nodded, "Yeah, knock yourself out."

He let out a sound that was inhuman and immediately dove into the car.

She grabbed her 'secret ingredients' from the garage that she'd craftily hidden the night before and almost lost it when she could see him taking a selfie in the driver's seat.

She knew it would make him happy.

Jae loved her cars and she didn't often let anyone else drive them.

So it was a rare occasion but that usually made it all the more special.

She slid into the passenger seat beside him and typing in an address on the GPS.

"Ready?" she asked and he nodded excitedly.

"Yep, where are we going?" he asked, positively glowing with happiness.

It did her good to see him like that.

Taehyung had one of those personalities full of evervescence.  

She hoped he never lost that.

"Here." she said nodding to the GPS. "Breakfast is first on our list for today."

Taehyung threw the car into gear and they sped off.

She couldn't help but laugh a little and snap a picture of his excited little smile and post it.

She knew how much Army liked when she they posted on social media and she'd long since responsible for sharing behind the scenes, domestic things over the years.

As the official 'pack mom' it was no shocker for her to take their picture at any given moment.

He was talking a mile a minute the whole ride and didn't let up when they finally came to a stop in front of the resteraunt.

She'd called the night before to get a reservation up on the balcony and to see about a special dish so they were whisked away immediately upon entering.

She smiled as she watched her young friend.

Taehyung had this childlook wonder about him at times that made her melt.

Ever the social butterfly, he chatted away with the staff while the young waiter nervously took their orders.

"When did you do this?" he asked, eyes as big as saucers when they brought the big breakfast dessert full of fresh strawberries, soft cake and whipped buttercream.  "You didn't even come home until after midnight."

"I made a few calls." Jae shrugged.   "I've been thinking we needed some time together for a bit.  I know we've both been busy and I know you've been sulking because I have been there to cuddle you at night."

"I know you've been working alot.  It's ok." he said seriously before popping a strawberry into his mouth.  "And when did you order this?"

"Last night.  It's a special item." she said. "You have to call ahead. But I know how you are and I figured you'd like it.  Do you?"

"I love it." he said, nearly inhaling three more at once.

"Good." she smiled.  "Eat up.  You'll need your energy.  I have a big day planned."

Taehyung melted in affection for the woman that was dubbed as his 'twin' by fans but had always been like an older sister to him.

They were extremely close now, even if at one point they were anything but.

Soon enough, the waiter was back with their other food and they spent a good deal of time laughing and enjoying their meal and the world began to wake up a little more.

Taehyung reached for his wallet and she smacked his hand.

He gasped, "Hey!"

"Today is my treat, Tae." she said pointing her finger at him seriously.

"No, I-" he tried to argue but she narrowed her eyes.

"Kim Taehyung you listen to your noona or I'll spank you." she teased and he couldn't help but grin.

"Jiminie, will be jealous when I tell him that." he smirked.

"Yeah, well, Jiminie probably needs a spanking.  The little brat." she laughed as they stood and she pressed a generous tip into the servers hand along with the money for the bill.  

They waved to the owner's who had been kind enough to let them in early that morning before clambering into the car and speeding away again.

"Where to now?" Taehyung asked.

The smirk that donned Jae's face told him everything he needed to know.

"Gucci Twins strike again?" she asked and he squealed in happiness.

He revved the lambo and took off to their favorite store.

They spent forever in the store, taking pictures with staff and a few Army that they ran into.

Jae found her a nice snakeskin purse before sneaking off to buy a couple of things for him while he was busy in the changing room.

She sat on the couch, offering her opinion every time he came out.

She smirked when she noticed the pair of boots and the shirt he was sporting, as she knew duplicates of them both were sitting in the store packaging beside her.

"What do you think?" he asked.

"Handsome as always." she said.

"About the clothes." he laughed.

"Very nice." she said.  "Maybe try it in a different color though."

"Really?" he asked looking at himself in the mirror.

He thought the black and gold print shirt looked nice on him.

"Maybe that blue one." she said gesturing to the same shirt in a different color not far from them.

Tae pursed his lips for a second before going back into the changing room.

He continued his fashion show for a while longer before eventually deciding on something different all together and checking out.

The two of them stopped for pictures with a few more people before they settled in the car again.

"What did you get?  You were done before I ever got out."  he asked.

She pulled the snakeskin bag out of the box and he cooed.

"Oooh, nice." he said.  "You'll wear that alot."

"I thought so." she said.

"What else did you get?" he said eyeing the other bags.

She grinned before pulling out the boots she'd seen him eyeing earlier and as well as the black and gold shirt.

"You told me to try another color and now you get it!" he accused.

"Check the size, genuis." she said and he peeked in before the cutest look came over his face.

"Awww, Jae." he said, a pout covering his features. "You didn't need to do that."

"I wanted to." she said. "Beside, I knew you were gonna look at them.  I saw you save it on your phone last week."

"But-"

"But nothing, respect your noona and accept the gift."

Taehyung clambered over the seat to smother her in wet kisses.

"Yah!" she laughed. "You're gonna ruin my makeup!"

"I don't care! I love you!" he said, all but pulling her into his lap.

"Kim Taehyung the both of us are too long legged for this." she giggled. "Now, calm yourself before I take the keys back."

It wasn't uncommon for the two of them to share clothes or even for Jae to buy him something- but it never failed to make him emotional when she did.

He sniffed a little and she carded a hand through his dark hair before fixing his hat again.

"Tae?" she asked. "What's wrong, sweetie?"

"You just remind me of my grandma." he admitted, eyes prickling with tears.

Jae's head tilted and she pulled him back into her arms.

"That is the highest praise I've ever recieved." she said, placing a kiss to his temple.

He sniffled into her neck and she pulled him back so she could look into his eyes and run her thumbs over his cheeks to erase the tears.

"I wish I could've met her." she said. "We talked on the phone a couple of times when you'd call her.  And you've told me so much about her.  She sounded like a wonderful woman, Tae.  A comparision to her is the highest praise. I mean it. Thank you, honey."

Taehyung's lip quivered again and she pulled him back to her.

"Alright, let's get it together, babe.  We got lots more to do and I plan to feed you a lot today too.  In the name of your grandma who liked you chubby, prepare your belly."

He was laughing then, eyes sparkling and spirit lifted.

She patted his leg once more before he threw the car in gear and they sped off down the road towards a small rooftop jazz show and a local fried chicken joint. ---- Part Two - The Adventure Continues! ------

–

Hey loves! I hope you enjoy this! I’m trying out something new with writing for a while since I hit a major road block while I’m here in the hospital.  I hope you enjoy these!  If you’re interested in reading Jae’s full profile and the masterlist for this series you can find it HERE

I would love to know your thoughts and if you have any suggestions for other things to happen with Jae and the boys, just let me know!

I love you and I hope you have a good day, my loves.

Love,

Kenny

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dreadwolfxoxo   pottahishotasf

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——- Also, just a reminder that I am open for commissions! Additionally, the only tag list I have is my permanent tag list but if you ever want to be added all you have to do is just go to the ask box and request to be added! It’s that simple and you’re in!I love you all!

[tooweirdforyou]

Lunar New Year » Teases

Trafalgar D. Water Law x Reader

Summary » Law is being the typical, cocky and teasing ass. But, he’s a lovable asshole, who secretly cares for you.

note : modern! AU, reader works at a cafe :p, friends to lovers(?)

also, some of these might seem a little rushed. And they are. lol — this is the only one I’ll post, accept maybe one on actual lunar year-

-

“Thank you, please come again!”

Waving goodbye to another customer, you stretch your arms and sigh. “Another busy day of business.” You sang and Penguin chuckles beside you, turning the open sign to closed.

“It makes sense today was a little busier. Don’t you know what day it is?”

“How could I forget, with the amount of envelopes we’ve received from customers?” Gesturing to the pile of stacked red envelopes on the counter behind the register, Shachi and Penguin laugh once more.

“It’s a good thing we decided to open on New Years though, I heard almost every store is closed.” Shachi says, taking off his apron and hanging it up.

You began doing the same, smiling at the thought. Sure, you were exhausted but the amount of customers that came in meant tons of cash, so it was worth it.

“Oh, Shachi! Did you get a personal red envelope from anyone?” Penguin asks, and Shachi shrugs. “Besides my parents and Bepo, I don’t think so. Did you?”

“Not yet, but I heard Boa Hancock has a personal envelope and hasn’t given it to anyone yet.” Penguin grins with a small pink blush across his cheeks, and his words shocked Shachi. “Really? No way!”

Unable to help yourself from overhearing, you laugh lightly. “Sorry, boys. I heard she’s giving it to some guy named Luffy. The one with the straw hat, remember? He barged in here one day, asking for meat with his brothers.”

The two began to sulk at you. “Seriously?.. how lucky..”

Rolling your eyes, you glance at the time. Seeing the clock strike eight, you grin a bit.

You dust your clothes and made sure everything was neat in your area before grabbing your things that you needed.

“Alright, I’m heading out for the night. I’ll see you both in a couple of days. Remember to lock up!”

Penguin nods sullenly before perking up, noticing you already heading for the door. “Wait, aren’t you going to grab some of the envelopes?”

Understanding what he meant, you shrug. “I’ll pick up my share later on. Go ahead and take as many as you two want though.”

With that, you quickly open the door and head out, waving to the two of them before leaving completely.

“Wonder what’s the rush.” Shachi comments and Penguin shrugs, beginning to sweep the shop while Shachi began putting chairs away.

-

“No way, sold out already?”

Staring at the window display, your shoulders dropped in disappointment at the large sign that signaled the status of the item you’ve been waiting all day for.

Your lips slowly curled into a pout, clearly upset at not being able to be one of the many people who were able to get a copy of the limited edition remake of Sora, Warrior of the Sea comic series.

It was a once in a lifetime situation, considering there were only a few copies of the remake, since it included extra scenes and artwork.

“I can’t believe it..”

“What a pity.”

Whirling your head around to see Law leaning against the wall of the building, a particular book in hand.

“Law? What do you want?.. and is that-!”

“How cruel. I stood here waiting for you to arrive, knowing you’d be upset that it was sold out.” Law states, feigning a look of hurt as he stands up straight.

You furrow your brows at him, not at him for the amount of time it was sold out, but the fact that he actually stood there for as long it was sold out and you arrived.

“What, so you waited for me to laugh in my face about it?”

You never particularly liked Law but you didn’t hate him either. He was attractive yes, but he often got on your nerves with his teasing attitude, his dumb ass smirk, etc.

“Do you think so low about me all the time? It hurts my feelings.” Law hums, making his way towards you as he swung the book around a bit in his hand.

You roll your eyes and sighed. “Right.. well, I guess I’ll get going then. I left the cafe just to find it was worth nothing so.. I better get back to help Penguin and Shachi clean up..” you mumble, clearing your throat and turned around.

Law hums as he stops behind you. “Leaving already? I haven’t even gotten to offer you the book yet.”

Your eyes widen as you whirl around excitedly. “Wait, really?!”

The male closes his eyes with a innocent smile. “Of course. Feel free to take it.” You didn’t even question him as you quickly went to reach for your book eagerly, only to nearly trip in the process when Law pulled away.

He then held it up his head, smirking teasingly. “It’s right here, [Name]-ya. Just reach for it.” Law hums, waving the comic book in the air.

You sent him a small scowl as you reach up for the book once more, just for him to grab your wrist and roughly pull you into his chest,

Lips now right next to your ear, Law hums.

“If you wanted me that badly, you could’ve just asked.”

The unexpected action was enough to bring the heat up to your cheeks, quickly reaching the tips of your ears. “As if!”

Seeing your visible blush was enough to satisfy him, an amused smile spreading across his lips before pulling away from you.

Law turns around, back facing you as he checks the first page of the comic in his hand for a brief moment.

Reassured what was on the front page, he closed it and turned back to face you.

Smirking lightly, Law held out the book for you, before a genuine small smile was seen from him. “Here.”

You eyed him suspiciously for a minute before a wide grin came over you, and you eagerly took the book from him. “Thanks, Law!”

The pink tint of your cheeks and excited smile on your lips made Law’s heart skip a beat, but he wouldn’t admit it.

The male only nods before turning away, his hand up with a wave. “See you around. Happy Lunar Year.”

With that, he began leaving without waiting for your response, hands shoved into his pockets as he did so.

You didn’t seem to mind, too busy thinking about actually having the comic book in your hands and went to see the first page, wondering what it looked like.

However, the sight shocked you.

Upon opening the cover, the blank page showed a bit of writing along with a red envelope.

‘To [ Name LastName ], hope you’re grateful.’

Was all it read as you slowly reached for the red envelope and pulled the seal open.

Inside, instead of it being money, it was a folded paper. Curiosity took over as you pulled it out and read it.

‘You’re welcome. Happy Lunar Year, [ Name ]-ya. I like seeing you smile and I knew you’d want the latest remake of the comic so I made sure to get it. Don’t be a klutz and ruin it.’

and right near the bottom was his phone number, with two words. ‘Let’s talk.’

Irritation was evident in your eyes but the small warm smile took over your emotions as you held the paper tightly in your hands.

Law sure was an unexpected type.

-

Meanwhile, as Law walked away, he looked down at his path as he did so, warmth spreading over his cheeks at what he did and the image of your excited grin was plastered in his mind.

-

A/N : MAN IDK OKAY ITS RUSHED AND IM BEST AT RUSHING THINGS BECAUSE MY FINGERS TYPE BEFORE MY BRAIN THINKS! wait does that make sense?

[bangfantanfic]

Our Own World: Chapter 3

Warnings: None???

Type: Not set genre

Authors Note: Hey~ again, so sorry I took so long ;-; I do have two jobs and both are basically full time so I haven’t got much time. This chapter isn’t as good as it could be, I apologise! But now shit can get spicy!!! I hope you guys enjoy 💕

Your brother's guilty face spread across your laptop screen as apologies tumbled past his lips.

“— it’s not like I wanted to be sneaky, I just really needed you!”

“Oh, come on Y/N don’t look at me like that!”

“I would’ve called sooner, you know that!”

Throughout his 25 minute speech on how sorry he was, then how he actually wasn’t sorry, but still was sorry, your brother groaned obnoxiously. It was late at night for him, his jet lag still messing with his body clock. Beside him Mila slept.

You were jealous of how heavy a sleeper she was.

“You’re the only person I could trust with this, Y/N.” He finally said, exhaustion coating his words. “Mom and dad are too interested in them, they would’ve made the boys uncomfortable. I knew you wouldn’t be interested in them from a scientific perspective. I just wanted them comfortable that I forgot about how you would feel.”

You narrowed your eyes at his confession, his face dropping at the expression.

“You’re lucky I didn’t leave.”

He nodded wildly, agreeing.

Your expression relaxed, your glasses sliding down your nose. You wish you could just leave. But you’re too involved now, and you weren’t one to give up so quickly.

“They’re good guys, Y/N. You should give them a chance.”

“Oh, you’re out!” A surprised voice chirped from behind you.

You spun on your heel, cheeks heating up as you caught sight of the familiar polar bear hybrid. He stood with his hands shoved into the pocket of a large brown sweater that hung not too far off his knees.

“Are you hungry? I made sure the boys didn’t eat everything, we’ve been rationing.” He explained, waving you over to follow him.

He led you into the kitchen, swinging open the fridge. His hands now resting on his thin waist as he stared at the contents. His pretty plump lips were pursed into a pout as he seemed to consider what there was to offer.

“Anything in particular you want?”

You weren’t actually that hungry. The house had been quiet, you thought maybe you had found the perfect opportunity to get some fresh air without being spotted.

Clearly, you failed.

But the excitement on the hybrids soft features made your heart clench. How could you possibly say no to him when he’s looking at you like that?

“A sandwich will be fine.” You smiled sheepishly, watching him nod to himself.

“The others are probably off sleeping somewhere,” Seokjin explained. “Hobi and Yoongi are out in the cages, but otherwise I’m guessing they’re sleeping.”

The cages?

You remembered that was where they had been when you first arrived. Your cheeks turned pink at the thought of them watching you fail at your one job.

Why would they be back out there?

Seokjin must’ve seen the frown on your face, quick to change the subject. He began to babble about how the younger boys had been on his back, bored and missing their gaming.

“You’ve probably noticed the two computers in your room,” He said knowingly. “That’s where we would game, but the boys are under strict orders not to go in there.” He laughed.

You nodded, they were the first thing you noticed when you found the room. Two large PC’s back to back, with multiple screens and fancy setups that you couldn’t even begin to understand, but you knew it all cost more than your entire education so you didn’t dare go near it. You knew your brother loved gaming, he always had. It was one of the only things the two of you had ever managed to bond over, even if you weren’t that good.

You felt bad. They’re all clearly bored, unable to leave the house without your brother and you had taken their favorite form of entertainment away, unintentionally but still.

“They’ll live, they have the console out here and phones. They’re just dramatic.” He laughed, cleaning up the mess from lunch.

“Hyung— oh,”

You stiffened at the unfamiliar voice, eyes glued to the hybrid in front of you that grinned at the new comer.

“Namjoon, back inside already?”

You shifted, turning to see a taller male. He had tan overalls on and a white, muddy shirt on underneath. His silver grey hair was fluffy, clearly not done and standing up in every direction, almost covering up the pointed ears on top of his head.

“It started to rain…” He trailed off, although he wasn’t talking to you he was staring you down, his tanned cheeks slightly pink. “I’m Namjoon, by the way.” He added sheepishly, a dirty hand rubbing at the back of his neck.

You nodded, smiling slightly “I’m Y/N.”

He nodded, smiling bigger. “It’s nice to see you out, I was starting to think we never would.” He admitted, carefully walking over to Seokjin.

He moved and spoke to you like a scared animal, how ironic.

You watched as Namjoon washed his hands in the sink, giving you a chance to get a good look at his face.

He was cute, his face round and eyes reminding you of a dragon. A rounded nose and deep dimples on either side of his cheeks. He was beautifully tanned reminding you of honey, and his smile as he listened to Seokjin just made him all the sweeter.

“Miss Y/N, will you be joining us for dinner tonight?” Seokjin asked after a moment.

Namjoon’s head perked up at the question, and although he was trying to make it seem like he wasn’t watching your reaction, or listening to the conversation, you could see him watching your through his eyelashes as he pretended to clean under his nails.

“Ah, I guess if you guys don’t mind?”

“Oh—ow dammit Namjoon, be careful!” Seokjin scolded, making you jump at the raise in tone.

Namjoon flushed bright red, straightening up and grabbing his silky tail. “Sorry hyung, I didn’t mean it!”

The two bickered, Seokjin telling the younger to be more careful with his emotions if he couldn’t control the physical side of it. Meanwhile Namjoon complained that he needs to word things better because he sounded gross.

Maybe for once your brother was right.

The lead up to dinner was nerve wracking. You had spent the remaining hours in your room scolding yourself for agreeing.

You weren’t sure if you should dress somewhat nice? It would be your first time meeting them, did you want to make a good impression? After all they probably all thought you were a scared, stuck up princess.

Scared? Definitely.

A stuck up princess? Maybe a little.

In the end you just settled on what you had put on that morning after your shower. Sweatpants and hoodie. It’s not like you had to impress them.

Right?

“Miss Y/N?”

Your pacing halted. The voice was familiar, but definitely not Seokjin familiar.

“It’s Namjoon, Jin told me to see if you wanted me to walk with you to the kitchen?”

He sounded just as nervous as you felt. You quickly agreed, swinging open your door and almost sighing in relief when you saw him in a similar outfit to your own.

The walk to the kitchen seemed to drag, Namjoon taking him time as he explained a few things about his “brothers” to you.

“Jimin and Taehyung might be a little much, they’re pretty social. Hoseok is pretty loud, he loves to socialise as well.” He had told you, holding three fingers up as his listed people off. “Yoongi and Jeongguk, they may seem rude and maybe even intimidating, but they’re softies. They’re just wary of new people, which is understandable.” He concluded, looking down at you with a small smile.

“Everyone is super nice, I promise.”

When you both arrived at the kitchen three others were already seated, and Seokjin was running back and forth from the table to the stove. Three backs faced you, white hair, brown hair and black hair.

They didn’t turn to acknowledge the new arrivals in the kitchen, but it was obvious they knew you had arrived. The way their backs tended up and ears twitched gave it away.

Namjoon placed a large hand to the back of your shoulder softly, noticing your anxiety. He had honestly expected you to flinch away from his touch. But instead when you leaned into his touch, practically burying yourself into the side of him, he practically disintegrated where he stood. Just when he thought the pink on his cheeks couldn’t get any worse you looked up at him, glasses hanging low on your nose, through your eyelashes and gave him a weak smile.

And that was all it took.

“Boys, why don’t we all introduce ourselves?” Seokjin said once he was seated beside you at the head of the table.

Seokjin sat to your left and Namjoon to your right. Across from you was a boy with white hair and soft features, to his right was a boy with brown hair and then finally, another with black. Two of the three smiled at you, one more shyly than the other, while the third kept his eyes to his plate.

“I’ll go first,” Seokjin suggested, clearing his throat. He shifted himself in his seat so he was facing you properly, a warm smile on his thick lips. “I’m Seokjin, you can call me Jin. I’m, as you know, a polarbear hybrid.”

You smiled, nodding your head. You liked Seokjin. He gave you a warm, cosy, homey vibe which was something you hadn’t felt around anyone else other than your brother. But even then it was a different feeling.

From beside you Namjoon spoke next.

“Namjoon, I’m a wolf— Alaskan interior wolf to be specific.”

You frowned, you had just assumed all wolves were the same. You didn’t realise that there were multiple different breeds. When it comes to animals you really were clueless.

“I’m Taehyung, we already met when you were sleeping!”

“Taehyung, that’s creepy.” The white haired boy snorted, rolling his eyes. The brown haired boy frowned for a moment, thinking before he grinned. A large boxy smile that showed off his teeth and squinted his eyes.

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly, running long fingers through his hair. “I’m a capuchin.” He added, his tail flicking out from behind and waving. “Not, a furry.”

You wanted to glare, or even flip the grinning boy across from you off. But instead you felt your cheeks burn red and your body curling in on itself. You had a feeling the boy wasn’t going to let your insult go.

You didn’t notice Namjoon glare at the monkey hybrid, or the warning look that Jin shot the boy before turning his attention to Jimin.

The white haired boy smiled, and at first glance you would’ve mistaken the smile as shy. But you knew better.

“I’m Jimin, Arctic fox.” He introduced simply, leaning back into his chair. You noticed he was sitting with his legs crossed in his seat, long fluffy white tail wrapped around his stomach as his brown eyes sized you up.

“And the last one is Jeongguk, he’s your age.”

Your eyes met with the dark haired boys, your back stiffening when you noticed he was already staring at you. He didn’t make any move to look away, in fact his glare seemed to get icier the longer you looked. Your head shot down, eyes to your bitten nails.

“It’s nice to meet you all.”

Dinner went by smoothly. Namjoon was proud of his pack, for the most part they made sure you weren’t uncomfortable. You were even smiling and occasionally, even though you tried to hide it, he heard you laugh. He wanted to hear you laugh properly. Out loud, but he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. So he left you to laugh to yourself.

He couldn’t help himself throughout the meal, moving closer hoping you didn’t notice the way he inched his chair closer to yours until they were barely a few centimetres apart. You were warm, heat radiating off like the fireplace in the living room. It was his favourite spot to be too, curled up with a book in hand, glasses perched on his nose and the fire roaring beside him. You felt just like that moment.

You were pretty, glasses snuggly sitting on the bridge of your nose, shiny eyes focusing intensely on whoever spoke, all your focus and interest pouring into the one person. Your nose was a cute button shape, and your lips naturally poured, thinning slightly whenever they were stretched back into a smile.

You were easy to read, every emotion spilling across your face. He wasn’t sure if you meant to be like that, but he was thankful for it. He could see how nervous you were the entire night, see how tensed and stiff your shoulders were. It took his entire restraint to not rest a hand on your thigh and to promise you were safe with him by your side.

He really didn't want to scare you off.

After dinner Namjoon was sent off to take the missing two their dinners while the younger three were left to clean up. Seokjin happily accompanied you back to your room, a bright smile on his lips as he babbled away about how well behaved his brothers were. It was sweet how proud he was, and you had to agree for the most part they made sure you were comfortable.

You were surprised how much you had enjoyed the night. Sure you were filled to the brim with anxiety that at some point someone would snap and tear your jugular out, but they all seemed weirdly human too, even with the unique body differences.

Namjoon had made himself closer to you throughout the night, and oddly enough the act didn’t terrify you. It was actually comforting. At one point you had to remind yourself that just because he, and the others, looked more human than animal didn’t mean he wouldn’t tear you limb from limb. Maybe him moving closer was a hunting strategy. But then you realised just how awkward he seemed to feel, the way his foot was bouncing off the floor. How he gnawed away at his poor bottom lip and was practically sitting on his hands to keep them at bay.

His round, dimpled cheeks were flushed pink the entire night, and every so often you could feel him staring.

But there was no way in hell you’d call him out on it.

“Y/N, are you okay?”

You pinched your leg, smiling. And for the first time since arrived it was actually genuine. “I’m actually really good! I had fun.”

The blonde smiled, his eyes crinkling and thick lips thinning ever so slightly. You don’t think you’ll ever get use to how inhumanly beautiful he is.

Usually, beautiful isn’t a word you would say to describe a man, mostly because you remember how annoyed your brother would get every time your mother said it, but in this situation you couldn’t help it.

The man was the definition of beauty.

“We had fun too. I hope this means we’ll see you more often?” He looked nervous, his fingers tightly gripping the other hands. You could see he looked hopefully even with his face near only showing anxiety.

“Definitely.”

[jilyss]

Sure, yeah, I can accompany you to that black tie event for your work tonight. Wait. Why are we on a red carpet? Are you famous?

thanks for the prompt!! i tried to keep it under 2k but that clearly did not happen lol 

read on ao3

James Potter to Lily Evans at 3:14 p.m.: hey can u call when u get a sec

Lily Evans to James Potter at 3:18 p.m.: sry i was with a pt, what’s up

James Potter to Lily Evans at 3:19 p.m.: i have a favor to ask

It was 3 p.m. on a Friday and Lily Evans was just barely sitting down to eat lunch. She’d sat down in the empty breakroom, kicked up her legs onto a nearby chair, and just barely bit into her sandwich when she had seen James’ text. She replied a few minutes later, too hungry to type anything coherent.

When he called a minute later, her mouth was full of food. She swallowed quickly and pressed the accept button. “Hello?”

“Hey Evans,” he said, and Lily smiled at the sound of his voice. It had been a few months since she’d talked to him. She wished they lived closer, but she had just finished her residency in Manchester and he played football for Arsenal in London, and they were both so busy they didn’t have the chance to get together often. But they were the kind of friends who were able to pick up exactly where they’d left off every time they caught up, and Lily had missed him.

“I saw your game against Southampton last week.” Lily popped a crisp in her mouth. “Nice goal.”

She could practically hear his smirk through the phone. “Watched me, did you?”

“Remember that guy I told you about? The one I was talking to?” James hummed in agreement. “We went out for a drink and the game was on. I try to catch most of your games, but my schedule is a little - .”

“- Crazy, I know,” James laughed. “Are you still with him?”

Lily shifted the phone to her other ear. “No, we kind of just stopped talking.” She didn’t want to tell him that the real reason she had stopped talking to him was that before he found out that Lily knew him, he’d spent several minutes badmouthing James. Once he was finished, Lily gave him a quick rundown of the various ways he was an asshole, and then promptly left. She wasn’t a big fan of him anyway, and that had kind of sealed the deal. 

“Well, good - I mean, so sorry about the bloke, Evans - but I have a problem.”

Lily waited for him to continue, and he didn’t make her wait long. “There’s this event for work. Sirius is out of town, and I would ask my mum, but she went to the last one and just isn’t up for another late night yet, so if you aren’t busy, and I mean, only if you want to -”

Lily interrupted, laughing. “What do you need, James?”

“There’s this black-tie event I have to go to. It’s not a big deal, and we wouldn’t have to do anything. Would you want to go with me?”

Her eyebrows raised and she was a little surprised. “When is it?”

“Two weeks. It’s a Saturday.”

Lily pulled her phone from her ear and tapped on her calendar icon. She had that Saturday, Sunday, and Monday off. She considered her options, but there was really only one. Of course, she wanted to see him because it had been months, and she was never one to say no. She would just need to go shopping sometime before then. “Ok, sure.”

“Really? Brilliant, thanks, Evans.”

They chatted for a few more minutes until Lily’s lunch break was over, and she had to rush off to her next appointment. She sent a quick text to Marlene asking for her help with dress shopping, packed up her lunch and left the breakroom. 

James Potter to Lily Evans: hey, mum got wind of you coming down to london and would luv to see u

Lily Evans to James Potter: EUPHEMIA

Lily Evans to James Potter: of course!!!

Lily Evans to James Potter: i could come down a few hours early

James Potter to Lily Evans: actually do u wanna stay the night? we prob won’t be done until late and it’s a long trip back

Lily didn’t hesitate. 

Lily Evans to James Potter: yeah! I love ur mum and it’s been way too long

James Potter to Lily Evans: sweet, ill see you in a few days x

  Lily closed the door to her apartment, locking the door behind her. She made her way down the stairs and out to her car, carefully hanging her dress on a hook in the back seat. She’d originally planned on just taking the train down, but it would be faster to drive, and she didn’t want to worry about keeping her dress wrinkle-free on the train. 

When she arrived at the Potter’s house (though it was more like a mansion) a few hours later, a wave of nostalgia hit her. Lily and James had become friends at uni, and their friend group often went to the nearby Potter’s house for a home-cooked dinner. Lily had especially become close with Euphemia, James’ mother, and used to go over even when James wasn’t there. 

She pulled into the large driveway and parked the car before grabbing her bag from the backseat. Before she could even get to the door, Euphemia swung the door open and pulled her into a tight hug. “Lily, dear, it’s been too long!” 

Lily dropped her bag and hugged her back, excited to be back. “I’ve missed you, Euphemia!” Over Euphemia’s shoulder, she saw James running down the stairs towards them. Lily swallowed hard as she saw him. He was somehow even taller than the last time she had seen him, and football had definitely been good to him. Normally, he lived in a flat closer to his training facility but had returned to his mum’s house for the night.

As James approached, Euphemia let go of her and James immediately grabbed her into a hug. “Alright, Evans?”

Lily grinned into his shoulder, feeling his arms wrapping all the way around her. She squeezed him extra tight once before pulling away, then put one arm over Euphemia’s shoulders. “I’m doing good!” She glanced over her shoulder at her car. “I’m not sure when we have to leave, but I left my dress in the car, should I…”

“I’ll grab it.” James stuck out his hand and Lily handed him the keys. He was out the door in a second, and Euphemia steered Lily into the kitchen. 

“Congratulations on finishing your residency, Lily! Or really I should say congratulations, Dr. Evans.” Euphemia winked at her. Lily blushed and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. She still wasn’t used to the title, and even though she knew she had fully earned it, it still felt a little unreal.

“Thank you, I’m just glad to be done.” Lily took a seat at the counter, leaning her arms on the counter. Euphemia plopped a pastry in front of Lily, who took a bite without hesitating. She was an excellent cook who was always making something, and on the drive down, Lily had secretly hoped that today would be no different. “This is the best thing I’ve ever tasted. It’s blackberry filling, right?”

Euphemia nodded. “Now that you’ve finished your residency, are you planning to stay in Manchester?”

James walked in and tossed Lily her keys. Lily shrugged, casting her eyes quickly towards James. “I’m not sure. I love Manchester, but I’ve missed London more than I thought.” She took another bite of the pastry, chewing quickly. “I have a job now up there, but I’m not too attached yet.”

“Remus is planning on moving back here,” James cut in. “He just finished his masters, and has a job lined up here already.”

“I wish I got to see him before I left.” Lily glanced down at the counter. “I know I haven’t been able to visit a ton, but hopefully I can now.”

Euphemia patted her hand, eyes twinkling. “We know you were busy with your program, but you could make it up to us by moving back here.”

“Mum! Don’t guilt-trip her.”

Lily laughed and finished off her pastry. “I’d do anything to be closer to your baking, Euphemia.”

“I’ll make your favorite custard tarts every day, Lily.”

“Done.”

James snuck a blackberry pastry behind his mother’s back, holding a finger over lips to Lily. She grinned at him before turning back to Euphemia. “You know, the only reason I agreed to go with James is because I wanted to see you.”

Euphemia clutched her hands over her heart. “I always knew you were my favorite, Lily.”

Lily sent a wide smirk at James, whose mouth was so full of pastry he couldn’t retort back. Euphemia glanced at a clock. “James, what time did you say you were going to be leaving?”

James checked his phone. “The car is coming at six. We’ve got about an hour.”

Lily raised her eyebrows and moved to the sink to wash her sticky fingers. “I need to do my hair.”

“You know who else needs to do their hair?” 

“Mum, for the last time, my hair is fine.” James dodged his mother’s attempt to smooth out the tangles on his head. 

Euphemia turned to Lily, hands on her hips. “Don’t you think he needs a haircut?”

Lily pursed her lips at them, staring at James. “Actually, I think he looks good with that mess. Hides the rest of his face.”

James tried to flip her off just as his mother turned around, saying “Nevermind Lily, you aren’t my favorite”, and was rewarded with a swat from an oven mitt.

She grinned at him and headed back to pick up her bag by the front door. “Can I use your bathroom?”

Euphemia pushed James towards Lily, smiling and muttering something about James’ hair. He grabbed her bag from her and walked up the stairs. “Mum put you in the guest room next to mine. There’s a bathroom in there you can use.”

Once they’d arrived, Lily expected him to disappear into his room until she was ready. Instead, he sat on the carpet next to the bathroom, looking up at her. They started talking, Lily curling her hair as they talked. It was nice catching up with him, and Lily had a hard time concentrating on getting her hair right when she could watch James through the mirror. 

It was a quarter to six when she glanced at her watch and realized he was still wearing jeans and a sweatshirt. “This is a black-tie event, right?”

“Shit, yeah, I’ll be right back.” He jumped up and closed the door behind him. 

Lily put the finishing touches on her makeup - which was relatively simple because any makeup skills she used to have basically had disappeared in the past few years. James had brought up her dress bag, and she unzipped the bag and pulled it out. Luckily, it was still wrinkle-free, and in a few seconds, she had wiggled into it, zipped it up, and slipped on her shoes. 

Somehow, James had made it downstairs before her and was talking quietly with his mum in the kitchen. Lily walked in, heels clicking quietly, and they turned to look at her. 

She heard Euphemia’s quiet gasp and James’s soft ‘woah’. Blushing again, she did a little turn. She was wearing a silver floor-length dress paired with black heels. It was relatively simple, with small straps and a waist that hugged her hips and then dropped straight to the floor. Marlene’s eyes had practically bugged out her head when Lily had tried it on, and judging by the way James was looking at her right now, it was a good choice.

James hugged his mum and made his way to her, holding out his arm. “You don’t clean up too bad, Evans.”

Lily took his arm gratefully. “Oh, this old thing?”

Behind them, Euphemia was insisting on a picture, and Lily put her head on James’ shoulder, smiling for the picture. But Euphemia took a second to get her phone ready, and James tilted his head to whisper in her ear. “You look amazing, Evans.” 

Euphemia, finally ready, held up her camera and Lily didn’t get a chance to respond. She hoped he didn’t notice the goosebumps that had popped up on her arm when he had said that. She snapped the picture, and then, arm in arm, they made their way out the door. 

Lily had been expecting an uber, but instead, it was a small limo with a chauffeur. She gave James an odd look, who just opened her door for her and helped her in. Lily waved goodbye at Euphemia, and the driver took off. 

“So what is this event for, James? I don’t think you ever told me.”

James tugged at his tie. “Uh, just an awards ceremony.”

“An awards ceremony?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Are you getting an award?” The driver slowed to a stop, and Lily could see a long line of cars in front of them.

“Uh, no.”

“Are you just being humble?”

James tugged at his tie again. “No, I’m definitely not getting an award.”

Lily frowned as the driver inched forward again. She could hear some yelling in the distance, and she glanced out front again. “You’re one of the best on the team. Didn’t you say this was some team event?”

“Uh, no, I never said it was a team event.”

Lily glanced out front again and saw a team of photographers running towards the noise. Her heart rate started to pick up. “James.” 

He looked at her, half smiling and half nervous. “Hm?”

The car inched forward again and now Lily could see a red carpet going up a flight of stairs. She looked outside the window and realized exactly where they were in London. As she connected the dots in her head, her eyebrows raised.

She rounded on James. “What’s this event called?”

He had a bit of a smug look on his face as he answered. “The Brit awards.”

“The Brits? As in, famous award show with lots of famous people, the Brits?” Lily hissed. She smacked him on the shoulder with her purse. “Are you’re just telling me this now?”

He winced slightly. “Yes?”

Lily groaned and sat back in her seat. They were only a few cars away from the red carpet, and she could see the crowds of people all around. “You aren’t a musician.”

“No, but they usually invite a few athletes. David and Victoria Beckham are usually here.” He shrugged. “They invited me this year.”

Lily smacked his shoulder again. “I cannot believe you didn’t tell me this. You said it was no big deal.”

“Well, I’m not getting an award or anything, so it’s really not a big deal -” Lily shot him a look and he stopped talking. 

He ran a hand through his hair, tousling his brown locks. “Look, Evans, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I kind of thought you would just figure it out?”

Lily tried to stop herself from smiling, but it was just so James that she had to laugh. He had an ego the size of England, but at the same time, was somehow humble enough to think that getting invited to a giant award show was no big deal. But she didn’t have time to process this new information before their car was at the center of the red carpet, and a man in a suit came to open their door. 

“You alright?” 

Lily took a deep breath and nodded. James slid out first, then held out a hand for Lily as she climbed out of the car. She stood carefully, adjusting her skirt and then, with shaking hands, reached up to fix James’ tie. He grabbed one of her hands and squeezed it. “We can go back if you want. I really should have told you, sorry Evans.”

“I’m a doctor, James. I have no clue how to handle this.”

He squeezed her hand once more. “They’re going to love you. Just follow me, yeah?”

Lily returned his squeeze and turned to look at the flashing lights of the cameras and swarms of people. This was way different from what she had been expecting, but she definitely wasn’t going to leave now. She took another deep breath and turned back to him with a smile. “Do you think Lewis Capaldi is here?”

He grinned, ran a hand through his hair one more time, and led her up the red carpet. 

An assistant led them through the carpet, although James was so charming and charismatic that they didn’t need the help. They smiled for pictures, a few serious ones with James’ hand on her hip, and a few with his arm more casually over her shoulder and her head leaning on his arm. James had a few interviews, which mostly focused on what he was excited to see inside. A few reporters asked who she was, and James introduced her each time as “my friend from uni, Lily Evans.”

They even asked her a few questions, curious about this mysterious girl James Potter had with him. Lily blushed each time, but his steady presence next to her helped her remain calm and collected, but by the time they were inside, she felt even more out of her comfort zone. 

Their assistant led them to their table and then waved goodbye. Their table was so far empty, and since James wasn’t up for any awards, they were towards the back, which let them spy on the stream of celebrities, musicians, and assistants.

Lily was still shaky, and that only increased they watched Stormzy, surrounded by assistants and friends, take a seat at the very front. Normally, Lily wasn’t afraid of new situations, and usually, she thrived in them, but she just hadn’t been prepared for this. James noticed that she was still a little nervous, and as she took a sip of her drink, he put a hand on her bouncing leg. “You alright?”

His hand, warm against the fabric of her dress, only made her more nervous. She smiled at him and internally resolved to enjoy the experience. How often would she get to be in a place like this?

An older couple joined their table a few minutes later. The husband was the manager of James’ team, and James introduced Lily. A few minutes later, they were joined by more people, and Lily and James got pulled into two different conversations, but James’ hand never left her thigh.  

A four-course meal was served as the performances started, and everyone clapped after Mabel performed “Don’t Call Me Up”. There was a crowd by the stage for the cameras, but Lily noticed that not many people seated at the tables were standing up for the performances. James and Lily were seated on the side of their table, and after glancing around, she realized they wouldn’t block anyone’s view. 

When Lizzo took the stage, Lily jumped to her feet, grabbing James’ wrist. “Stand up!” 

He didn’t hear her at first, and she bent at the waist to speak into his ear. “Stand up!” He popped up next to her, putting one arm around her shoulders again, while she wrapped her arm around his waist. They danced like no one was watching, swaying back and forth together, although they certainly got a few odd looks. Lily was laughing at his singing (he knew every word of all of Lizzo’s songs), finding that she had a hard time focusing on the music when he was so tall and warm next to her. They sat down again a few minutes later, but James’s hand stayed in his pockets.

The award show eventually ended, and Lily and James stood outside, waiting for their chauffeur. But there was a long line, and after a few minutes, Lily looked up at James. “Want to get a little ways away and call an uber?”

He immediately nodded and followed her, one hand in his hair. They made their way out of the building, James occasionally getting stopped by someone he knew or when he got recognized. By the time they were out into the night air, it was nearly one am. 

“I’ll call the uber,” James said. He shrugged out of his suit jacket and swung onto Lily’s bare shoulders, and she smiled gratefully. A few taps later, he tucked it into his pocket and pointed down the street. “I said we’d meet them down there. There’s too much traffic back there for them to get through.”

They were quiet for a few minutes as they walked side by side. There were still quite a few people out, but for the most part, they were left alone. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you what we were going to.” James kicked out at a loose rock on the sidewalk. “I guess I didn’t think about it.”

Lily pulled his suit jacket a little tighter around her and shrugged. “I had a lot of fun. A little nerve-wracking at first, but I’m definitely not mad you invited me. I just didn’t know you were so famous.”

He frowned. “I’m not famous.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Huh. Then how, exactly, did you get an invitation to the Brit Awards?”

He shot her a smirk. “My thick thighs.”

“James Potter, your mum was right, you need a haircut to humble you.”

A car pulled up next to them and James checked the license plate quickly before opening her door again. “So you agree, I have thick thighs.”

Lily waited for him to climb in before she continued. “You have thick thighs but I’m not sure why that would help you get an invite.”

He shrugged nonchalantly, turning to face her in the backseat. “Raw sex appeal.”

Lily’s eyebrows raised even higher. “Raw sex appeal.”

“Mmhm. Raw sex appeal.” James put his hand over the back of her headrest, causing his shirt to pull tight against his torso. Lily had to pull her eyes from the outline of his muscles, and when she met James’ eyes again, it was clear he had noticed. 

“Well, that can’t be it. You don’t have a single drop of that.”

“That’s not what my mum tells me.”

“Your mum tells you that you have ‘pure sex appeal’?”

“Evans - “ James tried, but Lily had won their little battle of words, and there was nothing he could do. “Alright fine, it was not my sex appeal.”

“Glad we finally agree on that.” 

 Euphemia was in bed when they got home, and Lily and James crept upstairs to change. Lily changed into shorts and a sweatshirt, tossed her hair into a bun, and decided taking off her makeup was a later problem. James beat her downstairs again and was standing in front of the open refrigerator. 

Lily snagged another blackberry pastry, groaning as the sweet taste filled her mouth. James turned around with half of a sandwich in his hand. He walked into the pantry and grabbed some glasses and red wine before moving to sit next to her at the counter. Lily shifted to face him as he pointed to his legs. 

“I wore shorts just so you could see my thick thighs. And raw sex appeal.” Lily glanced down to see a pair of very muscular thighs hidden behind grey shorts. She swallowed hard and bit into her pastry. 

“If you say so.”

There was quiet padding behind them, and Euphemia walked in, wrapped in a bathrobe and hair in curlers. “Oh! I’m so sorry, did we wake you?”

She shook her head, squinting in the kitchen light. “I wanted to ask you how it went.”

Lily didn’t hesitate to throw James under the bus. “Your son told me this award ceremony was no big deal.”

“No!” Euphemia gasped. “You didn’t tell her it was the Brits?”

James shrunk slightly under his mother’s glare. “I may have forgotten to mention it.”

“And he told me he has raw sex appeal.”

“Is that so?” Euphemia turned to James, hands on her hips, but the laughter in her eyes made it clear that she was enjoying embarrassing him. James just shot his mother a winning smile, and Euphemia turned to Lily. “Did he treat you right?”

“Oh yes, a perfect gentleman.” But just as she said this, James' hand crept back onto her bare thigh, his thumb rubbing light circles under the table. Lily’s stomach flip-flopped.

Euphemia winked at them and pointed to the kitchen. “Help yourself to anything in the kitchen, dearie. James, stay out of the ice cream, I’m saving it for tomorrow.”

James kissed her on the cheek as she left, then grabbed the wine and glasses. “You want to go outside?”

Lily grinned and moved to grab some blankets from the living room. James was bent over the firepit on the back patio, and in a few seconds, had managed to start a warm fire. She handed him a blanket, scooting her chair close to his and wrapping herself up. He handed her a glass of wine then settled back into his chair. 

“Coming out here was always my favorite thing to do at your house,” Lily said. “It just… it just felt like one big family.”

James fanned his fingers out over the flame. “How long has it been since we were all together? Like three years?”

“Four,” Lily said quietly. “We haven’t all been together since graduation.”

“We’ve come a long way since then.”

“Yeah.” Lily shifted in her seat. Then she asked a question that had been weighing on her mind since he had called her. “Why did you call me?”

She expected him to give her a joking response, but to her surprise, he took a minute to think. “I missed you. It’s been a while.”

“No girlfriend? No pretty famous person who is sliding into your dms?” Her voice was teasing, but it was a genuine question. James had it all - fame, money, talent, looks - why did he ask her to go with him on the red carpet?

He laughed lightly and shook his head. “C’mon Evans, you know that’s not me.”

He was right - Lily couldn’t see him ever actually caring about his fame. It just wasn't him. Sure, he had an ego, but he’d matured so much since freshman year of uni, and Lily had been more than impressed with him on the red carpet. “You handled it so well today. Everyone loves you. ” 

“Everyone loves you, Evans. You had less than thirty seconds notice that you were going on a red carpet and you adjusted in what - ten seconds?”

Lily stayed quiet, taking a sip from her glass. “We’ve grown up a lot since uni, haven’t we?” He didn’t reply, just staring into the fire. Lily continued. “I don’t know if I could have done it tonight if it wasn’t you with me. You just made it easy.”

He shrugged. “I used to go to a lot of events with my mum and dad.”

Lily wanted to reach out and shake him and tell him that no, it was just James that was so charismatic and caring and charming. He didn’t seem to know the effect he had on people - had on her - that made them open up and happy -

And then all of a sudden, Lily realized just exactly what her feelings were. The reason she had a hard time taking her eyes off him or kept having to fight the urge to just hold his hand, and why she suddenly did not want to go back home.

Her eyes flicked at him, tracing the lines of his face and watching the light dance on his hair. James seemed to sense that she was watching him and glanced up at her. She just smiled softly and pulled her blanket tighter, heart pounding.

James downed the last of his drink and stood up, brushing off his pants. “I think I’m going to head to bed.”

Lily was a little surprised at his sudden decision, but felt a yawn coming on and stood up with him. James extinguished the fire, Lily grabbed the wine bottle, and they headed inside. They were mostly quiet, but just before Lily entered her room, she pulled him into a tight hug. “Thanks for tonight. I’m glad you invited me.”

James wrapped his arms around her and Lily could feel her heart rate increase again. He didn’t pull away, but she was worried that he could hear her pounding heart and didn’t linger. She waved goodbye to him, then went into her room. 

The blanket was still hanging on her shoulders, and she buried her nose in it, leaning against the door. She closed her eyes, breathing in deeply. Tonight had not been anything like she had expected, and she was incredibly grateful she had said yes. But there was a problem. She hadn’t anticipated her newfound feelings for James and had no idea how or when they had started. All she knew was that she was going to kick herself for months if she didn’t tell him how she felt. 

But the problem with that was she had no idea if even liked her. But thinking back on the night, Lily hoped the hints he seemed to be dropping really were hints and not just things close friends do. Like the way he had held her hand on the red carpet, the way he kept putting his hand on her thigh, or the way he had looked at her when she’d first come downstairs. 

Lily tilted her head back to rest on the door, gave herself a mental pep talk, threw open the door to her room, and marched across to James’ bedroom. She knocked quietly on the door, and he opened it a few seconds later. 

“What’s up?” he whispered. Lily took a tiny step forward and he stepped back to let her inside. She stood only a few inches away from him, the blanket still wrapped around her. 

“Why did you call me?” her voice was so quiet that she barely even heard it. “You never answered my question.”

“Evans…”

Lily’s mouth twitched upwards. She took a small step forward. “I think you can call me Lily now, James.”

He opened his mouth and then clamped it shut. He seemed to be fighting himself internally, and Lily couldn’t handle it more. She closed the gap between them, standing on her tiptoes and pressing a rough kiss to his mouth. He didn’t respond, and Lily pulled away, feeling her stomach drop. She looked up at him, trying to gauge if she had just made a terrible mistake. 

She was just about to step back, ready to apologize, but his dark eyes flashed and his hands reached out to grip her face and pulled her back. The blanket slid to the ground as Lily wrapped her arms around his neck, bringing him down to her, and the warmth of the blanket was lost. One of his hands moved to grip her hip, the other on the small of her back, pulling her against his chest. His warmth replaced the chill as Lily moved one hand to play with his hair. He groaned against her lips as she tugged on it, tilting his head back so that she could press needy kisses along his jawline.

He stepped to the side, pulling her with him towards the bed. The back of her knees hit the edge of the bed, and she immediately sat, grabbing onto the collar of his sweatshirt and pulling him down with her. The rough movement made their noses knock together, and Lily just laughed as James pulled away a little ruefully to rub it. Lily took advantage of the space between them to pull his shirt over his head, and as soon as it was tossed to the side, James dropped back to her, warm fingers trailing up her sides.

 “You think your mum heard us?” Lily was lying under the covers with her head resting on James’ arm, one hand tracing the lines of his stomach. 

“Way to ruin the mood, Evans. I love talking about my mum right after sex.” Lily laughed as he buried his face in a pillow. She reached out to play with a strand of his hair. James pulled his face out of the pillow to look at her. “You weren’t exactly quiet, were you?”

Lily blushed violently as he shifted to kiss her neck again. James had excellent stamina, what could she say? He seemed to know exactly what spots got to her, and it quite possibly had been the best bloody shag of her life.

Not that she would tell him that - she didn’t want his ego getting any bigger. Instead, she shifted onto her elbow, letting the sheet slide down to her waist. She smirked as his eyes slipped downwards and he swallowed hard, letting his hands wander freely. Pulling her hair out of her face, she bent down to pull him in a needy kiss, and that was all the prompting he needed to roll on top of her again. 

 After getting back so late and an active night, they slept in late. Lily woke up first, with James sprawled out on the bed next to her. She watched him for a minute in the soft morning light, then got dressed enough to quietly pad across the hall and back into her room. She showered quickly, scrubbing off last night’s makeup, then dressed in shorts and an oversized shirt. 

The kitchen was empty, but Euphemia had left a note on the counter about waffles in the fridge, and Lily didn’t hesitate to pull a few out. She had just put a few in the microwave when James shuffled in, wrapping his arms around her from the back and burying his head in her neck. He inhaled deeply, and his warm exhale gave Lily goosebumps. “You smell good,” he murmured, shifting some of her wet hair off her neck, giving him unrestricted access. Lily’s head tilted back to rest on his shoulder as his lips trailed up and down, humming softly. 

Lily would have taken him right there and then if Euphemia hadn’t walked in that exact second. She tried to put some distance between her and James, a little embarrassed that she’d caught them like that, but James kept his arms tight around her, laughing. 

“Morning mum,” he said brightly. “What are you up to?”

“Just out for a bit of gardening.” She waved her dirty hands and raised an eyebrow quizically at them. “Jamie dear, do you have something to tell me?”

James rested his chin on Lily’s shoulder and whispered something in her ear. She nodded, tipping her head to the side to see him, a smile breaking out on her face. He smiled too, his thumb rubbing slow circles on her stomach. He looked over at his mother, who was now washing her hands, and said “Mum, I want you to meet Lily Evans, my girlfriend.”

Euphemia gasped and spun on her heel to look at them. “Well, it’s about time!” She reached out and pulled Lily from James’ arms. “Oh! My hands are all wet.” She released Lily from the hug and jumped up and down. “I always hoped you two would get together!”

James grabbed Lily from behind again, pulling her close. Lily shot her an odd look. “You did?”

Euphemia winked at both of them and James groaned. “She loves you too bloody much.”

Lily patted his hands, which had slipped just under the hem of her shirt, consolingly. The microwave finally beeped and she pulled away to grab the plates. Euphemia disappeared back into the garden a few minutes later, and Lily joined James back at the counter. They dove into the food, both starving. 

James slid his hand on her thigh, and she put her hand over his, not wanting to be apart just yet. When they’d finished, he turned to her, one elbow leaning on the counter. “So, Evans, want to stay the night again?”

She pretended to think about it. “I’m sure Euphemia would enjoy my company.”

James pushed his plate away and stood up. Lily turned around to face him, and he stepped forward until Lily’s back hit the counter. He kissed the corners of her mouth, then moving back down to her neck. “No other reason?”

Lily was having a hard time concentrating. “I can’t miss out on the blackberry pastries.”

“Any other reasons?”James sucked slightly at the sweet spot he had discovered last night and Lily’s fingers dug into his shoulder. His free hand fingered the waistband of her shorts, and Lily couldn’t take it anymore. She kissed him, one hand fisting in the hair that she just couldn’t seem to get enough off. Still on the barstool, Lily wrapped her legs around him and he lifted her, kissing her all the while. 

“I can think of one more reason,” she managed to get out as he carried her up the stairs.

James threw open the door to his bedroom, tugging his shirt over his head. “Oh?”

Lily mirrored him, tossing her sweatshirt to the side. “Raw sex appeal.”

James’ eyebrows raised. “Oh yeah? Tell me more?”

Lily didn’t answer, instead just pulling him to the bed and laughing at the devilish look in his eyes. 

[honeymoonjin]

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DAY SIXTEEN

The realisation of the decision you have to make hits you like a truck the moment you wake up.

You hadn’t lied to Yoongi last night. Chatting with him about it was helpful, and you’re insanely grateful for his attentiveness and the fact that you can be honest with him about things like that. But it doesn’t mean you’re any closer to knowing who you want to be eliminated.

You’ve barely been awake and coherent for a minute before your phone buzzes noisily on your nightstand. Blinking blearily at the screen, a message from Taehyung lights it up. Bunkroom, please.

He’d sent it two minutes ago, your phone giving you that 2min reminder. It must have been what woke you. Your sleepy fingers manage to type out a quick coming now before you force yourself out from the cosiness of the covers and heading down.

Jimin is already there when you arrive, arms crossed to preserve the warmth of his body and perched on the foot of Taehyung’s bed. The masseuse had picked the two-set of bunks, directly across from the door, and he sits wrapped up in blankets, cross-legged and leaning against the far wall. He pats the mattress with a covered hand and you sit between the two, Jimin naturally scooting up to sandwich you between the two.

“Is this an intervention?” you joke weakly, voice still croaky from sleep.

“Not really.” You feel the pressure of Taehyung’s head on your shoulder. “Do you know who you’re voting out yet?”

You let out a self-deprecating scoff. “I do not.”

Taehyung goes silent for a moment. “Well… I have an idea.”

Jimin turns to face him, clearly just as in the dark as you are. “About who to vote out?”

“Kinda,” Taehyung murmurs. The only light in the room is what sneaks in through the crack of the doorway. You let your eyes slip shut as Taehyung winds his fingers into yours. “I want you to vote out me.”

Both you and Jimin go stiff, protesting at the same time. “Tae…”

“No,” the older man to your left says harshly. “Why would you want that?”

Taehyung seems to similarly shrink away and lean in closer, making himself small. “It would be easier on Y/n,” he states in an equally small voice.

Your eyes snap open even though you can only see grey-scale versions of the boys. “Tae, that’s not how this is meant to be. I’m a big girl; I’ll live.”

“You don’t get it,” Taehyung insists, sitting up and untangling himself from you so he can face you full-on. “I know the decision is hard on you. But it’s really hard on us too, and I realised last night that it’s not because I’m worried about getting voted out, it’s because I hate seeing you so upset. We’ve already made a promise to each other. I’ve seen more of you and shared more with you than most of the other guys, and I just think… You know, fuck the competition. You and Jimin both mean more to me than the game, and so I think I’d be happy to take that hit to make things easier on all of us.” His gaze drops, fingers picking at the thread of the blanket. “And, you know, maybe we’d be able to keep us a secret longer if the others saw you vote me out.”

While you sit stunned into silence, Jimin burst into action, gripping your thigh gently but emphatically. “It should be me, then. You’ve been nothing less than a sweetheart this entire time, Tae, you don’t deserve last place. Let Y/n vote me.”

Taehyung chuckles, no sadness or resentment in his voice. “Nobody would believe that Y/n would vote you out, Minnie,” he quips, his teeth gleaming in the dim room. “You’re too good at what you do.”

“I’ve been an asshole. I got in a fight the other day. I don’t think it’s hard to believe at all.” Taehyung makes a noise of protest in his throat, so Jimin cuts back in before he can voice it. “At least let’s flip a coin for it. Leave it up to chance.”

Your body goes lax against the wall with a silent sob of miserable irony. Just yesterday Taehyung had jauntily suggested you could choose who to vote off with a coin toss, and now he was rifling through his bag for one, to see if he or Jimin would be the one to leave. “I haven’t even said yes,” you point out lowly, “I haven’t said I want this. That I’m happy for one of you to leave.”

Jimin lets out a quiet sigh, his face cast in the warm hallway light as Taehyung opens the door wider to see more. “But would you be happier if you made one of them seventh place? Had them think they’re the worst in the house?”

“At least this way we won’t be offended or mad at you,” Taehyung assures as he returns, running his thumb over the engravings on a 50 won coin. “Doesn’t that count for something?”

They’re waiting for you. You bite down on your tongue and force yourself to think. To picture the faces of the others, of how they might react. Hoseok if he was on the chopping block for the second time in a row. Namjoon if he felt like his inexperience was his downfall. Jungkook thinking the fight yesterday was the nail in his coffin, or Jin seeing your elimination as a rejection of him and his feelings. Yoongi after letting you confide in him only to send him figuratively packing.

You’d have to eliminate them eventually. All but one of the guys on this show would face that goodbye at some point. Was it selfish of you to push it off for one more week?

“You can flip it,” you decide after a moment, your stomach sinking immediately. “Fuck, this sucks. I’m so sorry.”

Jimin’s grip on your thigh squeezes once comfortingly, and Taehyung rubs your shoulder, before he turns to his elder. “Min, heads or tails?”

“Heads,” Jimin picks without hesitation.

Taehyung, however, does hesitate. “Doesn’t heads come up more often?” he questions warily.

Jimin grits his teeth and nods. “It should be me.”

The masseuse frowns, his black curls like a dark halo as he steadies the coin on his thumb. “Whoever’s comes up gets eliminated?”

Jimin nods again. “Flip it, Tae.”

The second he flicks his thumb and the coin rises, you squeeze your eyes shut, not even breathing. Hoping that the moment where both of them are going to stay in could last a little longer.

The two boys go silent. You feel their eyes on you, then their hands, both slipping into yours just seconds apart from each other. Feeling your eyes prickle, you clear your throat. “Who is it?”

Without a word, your right side becomes heavy as Taehyung buries his face into your shoulder, free arm wrapping tightly around your waist.

You begin to cry before you can even think to stop it, leaning back into him as much as you can with both your hands occupied. Opening your eyes, they remain too blurry to really see out of, but you feel the two of them shift, fingers wiping under your cheeks and cupping your jaw.

“Hey, shh, don’t cry, petal,” Taehyung voice croons, smooth like velvet. “It’s okay, we’re okay.”

You sniff shudderingly, detaching your hands from theirs so you can press over your eyes, composing yourself. “Sorry,” you mumble in a thick voice, “I’ll just miss you.”

You blink away the last of your tears so that his face comes into focus, lips curving slightly, eyes swimming with emotion and with tears of his own. “Hey,” he soothes again, “I’m not going anywhere. All this means is that I can’t have sex with you. It’s not like sex is the only valuable thing about you, the only thing I like about you, you know? I can still hold your hand, I can still be beside you, I can still make you smile. I wanna see that pretty smile again, petal.”

Even though you probably look like a mess, and your heart is fizzy with mangled emotion, you can’t fight the smile that stretches across your lips. Taehyung brightens at the sight, praising you softly as you reach out and shove him playfully. “You sap,” you whine petulantly, heart settling nonetheless.

Having let the two of you share that moment together, Jimin finally pitches in, his voice bright and soothing like yuja tea. “Worst case scenario,” he jibes lightly, “you’ll just have to fuck pup with his hands tied and take the punishment.”

Your laugh is watery but it’s genuine. “Ah, Tae, are you gonna put me in some crazy lingerie or something?”

“I don’t have to when you look gorgeous in everything you wear already,” he admits with a fond smile, before it stretches wider, a cheeky glint in his eyes. “Lingerie sounds nice though. Good thinking.”

Jimin clears his throat lightly and stands up off the bed, slipping his phone out of his pocket to consult the time. “It’s just gone eight, so you have about an hour. I’ll give you two some privacy, yeah?”

Jimin shuts the door behind him, inadvertently pitching the room back into darkness. Taehyung lets out a breathy giggle, getting up to stumble around for the curtains.

You wince and shield your eyes when the white walls gleam with the brightness of the morning sun.

Taehyung looks more gorgeous in the well-lit room than he did in a dim one, so you will your eyes to quickly adjust, drinking him in. Deep chocolate curls resting on his brow, he shakes them back as he gestures up with a single hand. “We should probably go on the top bunk.”

You blink. “Huh?”

“I don’t wanna get my hair caught on the metal springs on the bottom there,” he explains, leaning forward to wrap his fingers around the network of wire that holds up the mattress of the top bunk just above your head. “I swear I’ve done that so many times in just this one night. It hurts.”

Slipping out dutifully, you climb the few rungs of the ladder to sit atop the bunk, reminded of the last time you stayed here with Namjoon and Hoseok. The mood is so different now, only emphasised by the way Taehyung gently tips you back against the pillow the second he joins you.

“Tae, what are you- Tae,” you gasp, feeling the slight tickle of his hair on your neck as he leans in and pulls the neckline of your sleep shirt over your shoulder, baring the flesh. His lips leave light butterfly kisses over the sensitive skin, making you sigh out at the feeling. “What are you doing, Tae?”

He sits up, braced by his forearms on either side of your head. Like this, his hair casts a shadow over his face, but you can see the insistent fire in his eyes. “I want to touch you, petal,” he confesses, “one last time.”

Your heart is seized with emotion, a lump thickening in your throat. “It won’t be the last last time, Tae.”

“True,” he acquiesces, “but for the rest of our time here I’ll have to see the others with you, our Minnie will be able to still be with you, but you and I won’t be able to do any more than hold hands. Won’t you let me treat you like your deserve before then?”

You nod quickly, breath hitching. “Touch me, Tae.”

This time he doesn’t waste time shifting the fabric to the side. Instead, his large palms slip under the small of your back, guiding you to arch it so he can slip your shirt off entirely, tossing it down all the way to the floor.

You sit up and peer over the edge with a wince, glancing back up at Taehyung. “Please don’t fall over,” you plead in a small voice.

The masseuse grins fondly, taking a peek before moving the other way, towards the wall. “It’s not that high,” he protests softly, even as he props himself up on one elbow, his leg thrown low over your thighs, keeping you locked in close too. His hand lowers to run lightly down your side, making you shiver. “Better?”

You bite your lip and nod. “Better.”

With a slightly bemused hum, Taehyung dips his head and his lips find your skin again, making use of the lack of shirt to trail kisses lower, unhurried even with the very real threat of the deadline hanging over you.

You let out an airy sigh at the intimate way he moves down your shoulder, over your collarbones, to the swell of your chest. Instead of a straight line, every kiss is plotted out in mindless curls and loops, like he wants to cover as much ground as possible.

As his hair tickles your skin, it sends tingles running down your nerves, your nipples peaking as they anticipate his attention. “Tae…” you breathe, giggling when his chaste touches make you shiver.

His voice vibrates slightly against your skin. “You’re so beautiful,” he praises, his free arm slipping over to gently grasp your arm, thumb running over the crook of your inner elbow. “So gorgeous, petal.”

His palms are like hot coals against your skin as it breaks out in goosebumps, hair standing on end. It feels like a quiet eternity before his mouth reaches one of your nipples, closing around it with the sudden wet heat of his tongue. You cry out at the unexpected stimulation and jerk, but the weight of his head, leg and arm carefully pinning you against the sheets keep you steady.

Taehyung takes his time worshipping your breasts, sucking your nipple with a wet pop as his hand shifts once more to play with the other. Pausing to lick the pads of his thumb and forefinger, he returns to roll the bud between them, making heat pool in your core.

Part of you feels like pushing his head between your legs, or wrapping your legs around his waist and demanding he fills you, but you don’t want this moment to be over any sooner than it has to be. Instead, your fingers wind into his hair, cradling his head to you as you arch your chest up into that delicious stimulation.

Even as you feel his cock plump up between the layers of clothing that separate you, he doesn’t so much as grind his hips, focussing fully on your pleasure. After what could be mere moments or entire minutes, he swaps over, leaning to the opposite breast to lave his tongue over it, baring the slightest nip of teeth to make you gasp.

It feels like a lazy eternity before his hand moves again, this time running a flat palm between your breasts, down your stomach and slipping under the worn elastic waistband. Wanting to give yourself a little room to breathe under the baggy pants you’d worn to bed, you’d foregone panties, and Taehyung hisses in sharply when his fingers run over your mound and immediately dip into your folds.

Recovering quickly, he begins to massage your hooded clit, using your own wetness to lubricate it for a smoother slide. You let out a throaty moan, legs parting to make more room for his sizeable hand. “Tae,” you pant out again, whimpering when he begins pressing kisses to your stomach.

“Yes, petal?” Taehyung questions sweetly, his movement on your clit so slow that you find yourself rocking your hips against him just for more stimulation.

“Want you to kiss me.”

“I am kissing you,” he counters, lips dragging over your hipbone as he speaks.

You whine. “On the lips, Tae.”

His fingers delve lower, parting your folds. “Which ones?”

Though the thought makes you clench around nothing, you push weakly at his shoulder in protest. “Up here, Tae, wanna kiss you properly.”

He gives in, shifting up to join his swollen lips to yours for the first time since you’d gotten up here. Just as you hook your hand on the nape of his neck and kiss him, he breaches your walls with two slick fingers, making you cry out into his mouth.

Taehyung chuckles, massaging you from the inside, fingers scissoring and curling rather than thrusting. “That feel good, petal?”

You nod shakily, eyes fluttering shut as you put your mind into kissing him properly, tongue running down the seam of his lips so that he parts them for you. He continues to work you open with languid grace, his fingers so long and deft that even the most minimal movements take your breath away.

He may be focused on your pleasure, but he doesn’t seem to be pushing you to orgasm, instead letting you bask in the warmth of your arousal and his steady stimulation. Even as he slips a third finger inside you and uses the base of his palm to rub against your clit, you’re reminded of a massage. The way he draws out the moment so that you can enjoy the experience of it, not just the final result. Your muscles go lax and one of your legs hitch up to spread yourself wider for him, but still his ministrations are so slow that you can’t even hear how obscenely wet you must be.

Still fully clothed, you can feel Taehyung’s hardness against your hip, his leg splayed over one of your thighs to keep you still for him. As your pleasure steadily rises, but that familiar curl in your stomach never tightens, you begin to grow needy. First attempting to rut against his fingers, then nipping at his lip in the hopes of riling him up, you eventually resort to pulling away from him and giving him your best puppy eyes. “Please, Tae, I want you to fuck me.”

His eyes are still blissfully shut from the kiss, and his brows furrow just slightly, hand stilling inside you. “I wanna make this last.”

You bite your lip, pressing a hand to his cheek fondly. “I don’t want to run out of time. We’ll end up being late to the meeting.”

Taehyung sighs, tilting his head to press a kiss to your palm. “Who cares if we’re late?”

Your lip twitches. “Sejin, probably. Do you want him coming up here at one minute past nine, interrupting us?”

The masseuse winces, his fingers slipping out of your wet heat. “You think he’d do that?”

“I don’t know, but I don’t wanna risk it either,” you offer up.

“Fuck.” Taehyung sits up and quickly tugs down your waistband, making you squeal and giggle at his sudden change of pace. “You’re right, shit.”

He strips himself even quicker than he did you, jimmying out of his boxer shorts and tugging his shirt over his head like it’s scalding him. Immediately you feel his erection against your thigh, heavy and wet with precum. Instead of getting back up on top of you, you feel Taehyung’s hand - still sticky from your arousal - pulling your hip up to guide you to lie on your side.

With legs intertwined, he hitches your outer leg over his waist and lines himself up at your entrance. Almost shaking with excitement, you cling to him and hold your breath as he pushes forward, his head entering you slowly but surely.

It’s quiet in the bunkroom, the only sound being your shared breathing, but there’s something so vulnerable and tender in that silence, and you tremble as he bottoms out inside you. The angle you’re both at, lying side by side, makes it feel like he’s deeper than you’ve ever felt before, filling you completely. You picture his cock so far inside you that it presses against your stomach, and the thought makes you tremble.

“Okay?” Taehyung checks in, giving you a moment to adjust.

You nod and lean forward to capture his lips, savouring that familiar embrace. “Ready, Tae,” you confirm, clenching around his girth. “Fuck me like you mean it.”

Taehyung lets out an unbidden groan, and just like that his patience is dissolved, rutting up into you with short, staccato thrusts that punch the air right out of you. Your fingers curl, clutching onto him for dear life as your nerves are set alight.

Every rock of his hips grinds his cock into the base of your clit, and you find yourself grinding against him, helplessly seeking out the best angle. “T-Tae, fuck, so good,” you manage to force out, voice wobbling even more than your legs.

His hands are all over you; running over your thighs, stroking your back, gripping your ass to meet every thrust. As you look over to him blearily, that same desperate hunger is evident in his face. You take a few moments to appreciate him. This will be the last time in a while that he’s writhing in carnal bliss because of you, and you fight to memorise every last inch of his face.

His hair is messy from sleep and the roughness of your current predicament, some curling at his temples even as the rest sticks up at odd angles, but on him it looks like some kind of wild halo that just makes him all the more gorgeous. His eyes are clenched shut even as his mouth goes slack. The tiniest gloss of drool gathers in the corner of his lips, which are a swollen pink, contrasting so beautifully with his olive skin. Light moans and exertions fall past those lips like a steady river, rushing louder every time you clench around him.

Unable to hold yourself back any more, you lurch forward, teeth pinching your lip with how eagerly you rejoin yourself to his. His responding whimper is muffled, but the way his thrusts stutter as his hands fly up to cup your face close to him speaks volumes.

The movement of his cock deep inside you isn’t measured, or ruthless, or graceful. It’s seeking pleasure and giving pleasure mindlessly, wishing to be as close as you possibly can for as long as you can, barely even speaking to each other.

His lips are equally uncoordinated as they slant against you, his tongue dipping out thoughtlessly, teeth nipping needily. You lose your mind to this primal moment between the two of you, sense of time fading away as minute details like a drop of sweat rolling down your back take centre stage. All you can focus on are his fingernails lightly pressing into your cheek; the roughness of his leg hair against your calf; the squeaking of the springs beneath you.

You can’t even tell if you’re making any noise yourself, so lost in those divine notes that slip off his tongue. At one point your mouths slide apart and he tucks his face into the crook of your neck, focuses on thrusting harder. You dig your fingers into his shoulders, trying to meet those thrusts but every moment your pleasure mounts it just gets harder to make your body obey.

When Taehyung speaks, it’s impossible to tell how much time has passed, if Sejin is waiting outside or if you still have most of the hour. Once he buried himself inside you, you slowly stopped caring about the outside world. Those doors felt like an impenetrable wall that would keep you and him secure for as long as you needed it. His voice comes to you muffled, a tickle on your collarbone. “Wanna feel you cum, petal,” he confesses, voice hoarse. “Are you close?”

You gasp, writhing against him. “Need more, Tae.” You barely manage to finish your sentence before fingers are grinding against your clit, pressing it between the pad of his thumb and his cock. Immediately, heat rushes through you, making your eyes roll back. “Fu-fuck, right there,” you cry, core pulsing with every thrust.

With an added source of pleasure, your orgasm begins to quickly approach, your entire body alight with it. At some point your eyes have fallen shut, and you’ve failed to meet his thrusts, almost entirely unable to think, your mind just overwhelmed with the feeling of his cock moving so deeply inside you.

Taehyung, although similarly delirious with pleasure, seems slightly more put together than you. His hips begin to snap faster, fucking into you without abandon even as the angle prevents him from getting too much momentum. His thumb speeds up, rolling your most sensitive bud over his shaft as it drives into you, and his free hand is trapped between you and the sheets, fingers tangled in your hair.

“Close, so close, gon’cum soon, Tae,” you warn him in a garbled stream when the stimulation begins to surmount what your body can handle. Toes curling, you pant and wait before your orgasm to hit any second, whining every time his length pulls out.

When Taehyung speaks, it’s breathy like a prayer. “Kiss me.”

You have just enough time to seek out his lips before the dam breaks and you’re cumming around him. Still seeking his own end, Taehyung ruts into you and makes out with you messily, groaning into your mouth when you tighten, nerves singing with raw pleasure, an orgasm that never seems to end.

You continue to kiss him as he finally begins to spill inside you, going tense and grinding his hips rather than thrusting. It feels so right, being joined like this with limbs entangled and every breath shared.

It takes you a few moments of coming down from your high to notice the wetness on your cheeks. At first you think you’re crying, overwhelmed from a powerful orgasm, but as you crack your eyes open you see Taehyung pull back, shoulders jerking and a hand clapped over his mouth and nose.

He cries silently, tears soaking the pillow and dripping off his nose, but there’s nothing you can say. It’s just a game, you still have me, we only have to wait a little while, these things wouldn’t bring him any comfort, not when he already knew them. His wasn’t a sadness you had to explain away or solve, it was one he just needed to feel in its entirety.

So, just as quietly as sobs wrack his body, you wrap your arms around him, burying your face in the crook of his neck, and hold him close.

He calms down eventually, pressing his cheek against the crown of your head, but the two of you stay like that for every last minute that you have left.

When your phone vibrates, followed quickly by his, you know that your time is up, and you dress in silence.

--

The meeting starts at 9:12 a.m. You know this, because by the time Taehyung descends the stairs - joining you several minutes later to prevent suspicion - Sejin is wearing a hole in the carpet, informing the group there is a schedule for a reason.

“Can we get started now?” Sejin asks in a snappish tone, before taking in a measured breath, calming himself. “Sorry. Long day.”

“But it’s only nine… thirteen a.m.,” Taehyung supplies helpfully. Sejin doesn’t seem to find it very helpful. “Sorry. Yes, we can start.”

As the masseuse settles himself on a couch beside Jimin, you do your best not to look their way. Sat beside Sejin on the edge of the coffee table, you’re facing the whole group, but there is a strange sense of calm that comes over you when you look at the others. Knowing they’re safe for at least another week.

“Once again,” Sejin announces, knee bumping yours, “the gentlemen have a chance to defend themselves before Y/n makes her decision. Clockwise around the room; Namjoon, we’ll start with you.”

It’s been a pretty rainy morning, a cold front frosting up the windows and making the heatpump slow to act. The academic has himself bundled up in a thick brown sweater and chunky pants, hands slipped between his own thighs for an extra bit of warmth. Somehow, the stocky clothes just make him look smaller. “Y/n,” he begins, “I know I’m never going to be as experienced as the others beside me, but I do really want to keep learning with you, and exploring different things. You make me feel really comfortable and at ease, which is unusual since usually I panic even thinking about kissing someone, and so I’d be really sad if I lost that learning curve that I’m going up with you. I hope you enjoy our time together enough that you’ll let me stay a little longer.”

As he is most days, Hoseok sits beside Namjoon, half-leaning on the taller man. He’s wearing sleek black today; skinny jeans, fitted turtleneck and a cinched waist. Reminiscent of the first two scenes you’d done together, you wonder if he’s wearing those clothes strategically. “My turn? Y/n, if you’re thinking of voting Namjoon out, vote me instead, and if you’re thinking of voting out any of the other guys, good luck to them.” His cheeks lift in a warm smile as you laugh, the humour skimming off some of the tension that weighs the room down. “But on a serious note, I think you and I are extremely sexually compatible, and I take great pleasure in watching you fall apart for me. I want for you to see me as somebody that you can trust to take care of you, but also push you and challenge you. For that, I do hope you choose not to eliminate me.”

You suck in a slow breath. It’s strange hearing them out with no intention of voting them out anyway. Rather than making you feel more indecisive, it reaffirms all the good that you have in this house, that you’re lucky to still retain after the meeting today. You owed Taehyung a massive thank you.

Wedged on the other side of Hoseok is the youngest gentleman. Jungkook has his legs tucked under him, fluffy grey bedsocks peeking out. When Sejin looks at hiim expectantly, he clears his throat. “I actually, um, have a presentation.”

As the rest of the room watches in bewilderment, he hops off the couch and flicks on the television. On the screen, two mirrored selfies of him pouting and winking bracket a message, VOTE FOR JUNGKOOK.

He sucks in a breath suddenly, whirling around to face you. “That should say don’t,” he explains in a rush, “don’t vote for Jungkook.”

Turning back, he crouches beside the cabinet to where a laptop is hooked up to the back of the TV. Changing slides, he straightens up again. A crossfade gives way to a slide which begins with the title, Who Is Jungkook?

“Fucking hell,” Yoongi grumbles, shifting to get himself comfortable on the middle couch he shares with Jin. “Wake me up when it’s my turn.”

Clearing his throat, Jungkook begins to read off the screen. “Who is Jungkook? Successful camboy, avid gamer, budding chef - that’s a picture of me helping hyung cook - and most importantly… Objectively the most attractive guy in the house.”

Even as he hurries to change slides, the other men - namely Jin and Taehyung - protest with cries of outrage and disbelief. Jungkook ignores them, just raising his voice enough to carry over their complaints, waiting for the new slide to bounce in above the previous one. “Why should you save Jungkook?” This time, Jungkook stays crouched, each bullet point having its own slide with a related picture of him. “I will stream with you. I will help cook for you. I will let you play as Widowmaker. I will work out every day so that I stay capable of lifting you easily. I will show you the unflattering pictures I take of the hyungs.” Somehow, Jungkook’s managed to capture a shot of Hoseok mid-yawn, nose scrunched and jaw wide open at the dining table. The man himself lets out an indignant huff, only relaxing once Jungkook switches slides again, a dissolve transition leaving you with a final selfie with Jungkook biting his lip and flicking the camera a peace sign. Jungkook straightens up. “I will give you all these things and more if I’m still in the competition, so please, don’t vote Jungkook.”

Taehyung’s hesitant smattering of applause fills the room as Jungkook switches off the television, sitting himself back down beside Hoseok. Even as he smiles and acts casual about it, you can see his nerves in the way he wrings his hands in his lap. Even if you hadn’t already decided to vote out Tae, there was no way you could’ve voted Jungkook out this week.

Jin is next up, on the couch directly in front of you. His ment is simple. “Vote me out if you think I deserve it. If you genuinely think I’m the worst in the house. I don’t think you do.” The rest of the room falls silent, waiting for him to continue, but he sits back and shuffles Yoongi’s shoulder to indicate his turn.

Sitting up, honey blonde hair disheveled from the back of the couch, Yoongi clears his throat and looks over at you. “You and I spoke last night about the others, about reasons for them to stay in, reasons for them to be voted out. But you didn’t cover me, so here’s mine. Pros: I know my way around the female body in general and, I believe, your body specifically. I’m very willing to give most things a go, I learn fast, and you know that I can keep my head above the water in moments of crisis. I’m a safe person to have in the game.”

You grin. “And your cons?”

Yoongi harrumphs, pouting petulantly. “Well, I’m not going to say them now, am I? I’m trying to promote myself.”

Your bemusement is quick to evaporate when you realise it’s Jimin and Taehyung that are last to defend themselves. Running clockwise, Taehyung is the one who has to speak up now. His eyes dance around the room rather than settling, fingers fiddling with the zipper on his jacket pocket. “Y/n,” he announces, voice so soft and tentative, “I think you and I have a lot of, um, potential together in the bedroom, and, you know, if you keep me in the game, you’ll be able to enjoy the best hands in the business. And I really enjoyed my time with you so much, especially this week. It’s like we have an understanding when we...” Taehyung’s mouth opens, closes. “Uh, so… Don’t vote me out, because you’ll miss out on those things.”

You try not to let the blue cloud in your chest show on your face, staying neutral. You and him both knew you would miss out on those things. That you would miss those things too. Giving a little nod, hyperaware of your reactions, you turn to Jimin.

He’s looking you dead-on, barely moving. “You should vote me out,” he says plainly. “Not...any of the others.” Not Taehyung. “I was a dick the other day, I’ve been an asshole mostly this whole time, and I’m sure the other guys would love it if you did, because they all know I’m the biggest competition. If you ever miss me, I have countless videos online you could watch, or you could watch me fuck one of the guys here. And I’m sure you already have a name in mind, but change it to mine. It should be me.”

Your mouth goes dry, heart racing sickly in your chest. Taehyung’s staring at Jimin with puppy eyes, a silent protest. On the other side of the room, Jungkook lets out a surprised chuckle. “Reverse psychology!” he chirps. “Nice, hyung.”

“So, Y/n,” Sejin asks, voice warm with sympathy, “who’ll it be?”

With eyes stinging, you duck your head, the name on your tongue bitter like battery acid. What you wouldn’t give to throw yourself away instead. “Taehyung.”

The room goes dead quiet. No sighs of relief, expressions of condolence. No announcement from Sejin.

In the two weeks you’d been here, you’d been in this position once before. But that time, exactly one week ago, you’d been subject to a sudden change in events that saved everyone. Now, with Taehyung’s name still hanging in the air like a melancholy ghost, the weight of this decision and its finality sit heavy around the room.

The first cut is the deepest, and as Sejin begins to instruct Taehyung on how to proceed as an eliminated member, you feel like your heart has been sliced in two. The half of you that wants to rush up to him and kiss him silly and take back what you said, and the half that’s filled with an overwhelming relief that you’ve kept the others safe for now.

Taehyung doesn’t look at you much as he leaves. There’s a moment, a single glance, where he gives you a teary smile of approval and comfort. A million words that you can’t say in front of everyone. But then he turns, and he walks out the front door.

Jungkook, who was too shocked into silence to even be listening, straightens up with the wooden thunk of the door closing. “He’s not leaving for good, is he?”

Sejin shakes his head stiffly, before clearing his throat and slipping back into his producer mode. Even as he does so, you can see the elimination upsets him too, his eyes sad. “Taehyung is going around back to the confessional booth for his exit interview. He doesn’t need to be around for prompt distribution, so he’s going to just do it now. Which brings me to this week’s theme.” Sejin pauses for dramatic effect, but it only serves to highlight the sullen mood in the room. “Work hard, play hard.”

You frown in confusion. The first two weeks were easy. Locations, roleplay. You knew what type of thing would be occurring even if you didn’t have the specifics for each member. But this time, you felt totally lost.

Sejin continues. “This week, prompt distribution is also different. Usually, we have you randomly pick a prompt from the bunch. But this time, we have a Bangasm Bomb coming into play. Week 3’s Bangasm Bomb is that whoever won fan favourite in Week 2 will distribute the prompts for Week 3. Yoongi, that’s you.”

Though all of you are a bit reserved, you can’t help but perk up, the interest around the room growing. Yoongi, sat beside Jin but taking up most of the couch, sits up suddenly. “So I give them out randomly, or…?”

“You read all of the prompts and assign them however you choose. Without revealing the prompt to the rest of the group, I ask that you give a reason for each choice.”

Yoongi grins, jumping up in an usual show of liveliness to get the slips of folded paper off Sejin. “I guess I picked the right week to absolutely kill it in the audience vote.” He makes you wait an eternity as he painstakingly opens them all and considers them, eyes dark as they search the room, making little noises of consideration and indecision. Finally, he stands up straight and immediately pockets one.

“A reason, Yoongi,” Sejin reminds.

The doctor blinks. “Because I want it?” Moving to the next one in his pile, he approaches Hoseok first. “Okay, this one is because I think it’s best done by a professional.”

Hoseok takes the slip and holds it close to his chest as he reads, brows lifting. “That’s probably a good idea,” he affirms. “Thanks, hyung.”

Yoongi, clearly gleeful with his position of temporary power, glances at the next slip. “Ooh! Okay, this one is for Jin-hyung because it fits perfectly.”

Jin accepts the slip warily, letting out an exasperated laugh when he reads it. “You little shit.”

Yoongi’s grin is wide enough that you can see his gums. “I love this,” he informs Sejin, “whoever came up with this needs a raise. Anyways; next one.” Opening a fourth piece of paper, he immediately seeks out Namjoon. “I’m giving this to you because I think you’ll get a kick out of it, and I heard through the pipeline that you like to be called daddy.”

Namjoon goes red faster than a changing traffic light, spluttering violently on a lungful of air when he reads the prompt.

Before he has the chance to put it away, Hoseok puts a strong hand on his shoulder and holds him in place so he can quickly sneak a peek of it, collapsing into a peal of laughter when he sees it. “You’re probably right,” he quips to Yoongi, who preens in satisfaction.

“Okay, moving on,” Yoongi continues, “Jungkook, this one’s for you. I figure you’re such a switch that you could play this either way, and I’m curious.”

You furrow your brows, as does Jungkook, but the moment the youngest man reads his prompt, the lines in his face smooth out in realisation. “Thanks, hyung,” he offers up sweetly. “I like this one.”

“I’m sure you do, kid,” the doctor says with a pat of his shoulder, before handing Jimin the final prompt. “And I’m giving you this one because it’s the last one left.”

Jimin scoffs at the weak reasoning, but his eyes dart up to you immediately once he looks at what it says. With a lip curling in bemusement and interest, Jimin thanks Yoongi. “This suits me just fine.”

Done assigning prompts, Yoongi turns to Sejin. “If this show gets greenlit for a second season and you don’t offer me a job, I’ll be personally offended.”

Sejin rolls his eyes with a begrudging smile. “Good job, Yoongi. And meeting adjourned, ev- Wait, no! There’s more; almost forgot.”

You lift your brows, waiting for some other groundbreaking twist or dramatic flair that seemed to keep cropping up during these meetings.

The producer stands himself up, patting his back pocket where his phone rests. “I just had a meeting with the showrunners, and they’re not happy with the punishment for breaking elimination rules. I’ll go tell Taehyung this after, since it mostly concerns him and Y/n, but as an FYI, the protocol around eliminated members has changed a bit.” He takes a breath, hands up and ready to gesture his explanation. “Basically, our old system was that if an eliminated member touched Y/n sexually, he’d be out of the house for good, and if Y/n touched the eliminated member sexually, she had to wear an outfit of that person’s choice. Uh, it seems that second system isn’t really that drastic, and could easily be manipulated, so we’re changing it up upon the showrunners’ request. Now, if the eliminated member touches Y/n sexually, he’ll have to leave as usual, but if Y/n touches him sexually, her punishment has changed to being taken out of the house for 24 hours.”

You tip your head to the side. “That doesn’t sound like a punishment.”

Sejin gives a strained smile. “You’ll be taken out of the house for 24 hours, handcuffed to me.”

“Huh?” Jin asks incredulously. “Bit wish fulfilment isn’t it, big guy?”

The producer has the good grace to blush. “It’s not like that, and it wasn’t my decision. Apparently, the viewers these days are taking more interest in the workings of staff. Additionally, as with the clothing rule, handcuffing Y/n to another member of the house is once again too easy to work around. Anyways, that’s the new rule. Got it?”

You blink. “So… let’s say I run outside right now and touch Tae’s dick. I’d then have to be handcuffed to you for a whole day and like, do producer shit? Meetings and editing and stuff?”

“That is correct.”

“What happens when one of us needs to pee?”

Sejin lets out a weak laugh. “You’d be allowed out of the cuffs to use the bathroom.”

“What happens when it’s nighttime?” you question, heart sinking as you realise your loophole to Tae is quickly closing up.

“Well, I usually go home around 11 each night, and my girlfriend is happy to take the couch should that happen.”

“What- What if-” Your mind whirls as the other guys chuckle at your predicament. “What if I wake up in the middle of the night to get a drink but you’re still sleeping? What if the guys in your meetings ask why you have a young girl handcuffed to you and I have to explain it’s technically a sex thing? What if-”

“All the things that make this a punishment, Y/n. I suggest you practice restraint and avoid breaking the rule.”

Your glare is softened by a petulant pout. “You’re a sadist.”

“This wasn’t my idea, Y/n. It’ll be a punishment for me too.” Sejin clears his throat. “Anyways; meeting adjourned. I’m off to catch Taehyung up.”

The stunned silence lasts no more than ten seconds once Sejin leaves. Jungkook, a toothy grin and cheeky eyes, starts bouncing in his seat. “Y/n and Sejin sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-”

“Shut up,” you shout with a whine. “This sucks.”

“Such a relief you have six other dicks still to choose from,” Yoongi drawls. “I’m sure you’ll live without one.”

Without thinking, you stick your tongue out at him, making him laugh at your antics, before pushing on Jin’s thigh to stand up. “Well,” the doctor announces, “I, for one, could do with a celebratory brunch.”

Jimin frowns. “What are we celebrating?”

Yoongi beams. “Me making you all my little bitch,” he declares, letting out a startled hoot when Jin jumps up to tackle him, manhandling him towards the kitchen.

As the two chefs of the house begin to lug out ingredients from the pantry, Jungkook turns to the rest of the group with a worried frown. “D’you think Tae is gonna be really sad?” he asks in a small voice.

Finally getting up off the hard surface of the coffee table, you make your way over to him, perching yourself on the arm of the couch. “Maybe,” you admit honestly, “but I think if he needs space, he’ll go upstairs, and if he wants comfort, he’ll come back to us. We should let him choose.”

As it turns out, Taehyung chooses both. The kitchen is steaming with a delightfully savoury aroma by the time he comes back in through the front door. He hovers in the entrance to the kitchen and dining area for a moment or two, waiting for the chatter to die down once everyone catches sight of him.

Announcing that he was taking a long shower but that he’d be back down and not to wait up, he’d rushed to his bedroom and left you all to confusedly finish preparing the food. He doesn’t return until you’ve all almost finished eating.

When he does, though, he appears like an entirely different person.

Wearing a raggedy shirt and pants, face red from a hot shower but hair dry, he dumps a white plastic bag on an empty space on the table with a dramatic flair.

Jimin watches him warily. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Taehyung chirps easily, “we’re dying our hair today.”

The words out of his mouth are totally unexpected, and everyone freezes into a bewildered silence.

Hoseok, with a spoonful of soup and green onion halfway to his face, falters. “Sorry, what?”

“I’ve been thinking,” Taehyung explains, like this is the most important thing he’s ever said. “I don’t want to be excluded and I want to have some fun with you guys instead of moping, so we’re going to dye our hair together.” Pushing aside empty bowls and half-eaten side dishes, the masseuse begins emptying the plastic bag onto the table. Bleach, developer, blood red dye, an emerald green and a deep royal blue.

“Where did you even get those from?” Jin asks, abandoning his plate to eye the products with interest.

“Ordered them online,” Taehyung answers with a shrug. “Well - technically I ordered them ages ago, Jungkookie wanted the e-girl TikTok hair, but I reckon we should just go for it. Some of us are in urgent need of a dye job. Namjoon; that’s you.”

The academic recoils, tugging at his grown-out faded purple ends. “Okay, that’s fair.”

Hoseok winces. “We don’t all have to dye our hair, do we?”

“‘Course not, hyung, you can supervise.”

It takes Yoongi insisting that everyone help clean up the table first that springs everyone into action, and in no time at all Taehyung has scoffed up whatever leftovers remained, and Jin has gathered additional supplies like bowls, towels and tin foil, hustling your ragtag group of eight down to the first-floor bathroom.

It doesnt take long before a temporary salon has been set up in there. With chairs taken from the kitchen, product being mixed in little black bowls on the sink benchtop, and three willing victims clutching towels over their shoulders.

In the first chair, Namjoon is watching in mild alarm as Jimin mixes bleach and developer in a bowl, eyeballing the measurements. With gleaming blue hair of his own, Jimin seems more experienced than some of you, but his job is more difficult than the other stylists of the day, since he had to get rid of Namjoon’s purple before bleaching and dying the lot.

You’d chosen the easiest of the three, Jungkook, and painstakingly consult with some of his favourite TikToks for the right amount of hair to section out as Taehyung takes charge of mixing his own concoction of bleach.

Finally, it’s Jin who has also volunteered to dye hair, although it’s not his own that he wishes to dye. Yoongi sits with a bitter scowl on his face as Jin pours in different coloured dyes into one bowl like a mad scientist. With already blonde hair, Yoongi at least has the luxury of skipping out the extra step, but it just gives Jin more time to conceive a crazy colour.

Hoseok, happy to take on the supervisor role, flutters around and hypes everyone up; massaging Namjoon’s shoulders, letting Jungkook show him countless videos and grimacing at what Jin has in his bowl.

“Hey, Tae,” Yoongi calls out in a forced casual tone, “why is it that when you were the one who bought the dye, you aren’t the one getting chemicals all over his hair?”

The masseuse shrugs easily, a tea towel thrown over his shoulder as he stirs away. “What can I say? I’m an artist, not a canvas.”

Jungkook blinks up at him past your shoulder. “I’d like to see you dye your hair, Tae. You’d look pretty with any colour.”

Taehyung reaches out to pinch the maknae’s cheek fondly, but accidentally leaves a smear of white behind. Jumping into action, you hold Jungkook’s chin steady as you wipe it off with your thumb, feeling his eyes on you and his breath hitch.

“Oh, you’re not- Y- You’re going straight in there,” Namjoon stutters shakily. Letting go of Jungkook’s face and stepping away, you glance over to Namjoon and Jimin.

The younger man has Namjoon’s hair sectioned with clips, painting thick globs of bleach onto the purple in his lower layers. “Don’t worry,” Jimin assures, “you’ll look fantastic after this.”

“Worst case scenario, you can lop it all off,” Jin points out cheerily.

Yoongi’s arm reaches out between folds of the towel on his shoulders, keeping Jin at bay. “You better not lay a fucking hand on me with that mindset.”

“Don’t be silly, Yoonie,” Jin teases, adding in some more green. “You’re my Mona Lisa.”

Yoongi humphs and collapses back against his chair, pink smattering his cheekbones.

Taehyung’s hand wraps lightly around your wrist, handing you the bleach he’d mixed up. “We’re good to go,” he declares to you and Jungkook, “I wanna go see what colour Yoongi-hyung’s getting. You guys start.”

Left in charge of the bleach, you turn back to Jungkook. Standing over him, it’s impossible to ignore the way his doe-eyes observe your every move. “Are you still good with these two chunks?” you check.

He nods quickly, lips pressing into an eager but shy smile. “Do you think it’ll look good?” he asks hopefully.

“You’ll look gorgeous.” Getting him to hold the bowl of bleach up for you, you dip the brush included in the box and begin to brush the white, thick liquid over the strands of black hair. He doesn’t flinch as the brush moves higher, sitting so still and patient. “What colour are you going to get it?”

His cheeks puff as he blows air into them. “Hm, I don’t know. Tae said maybe pink? I could mix in only a little bit of red so it’s not so strong. But then pink fades fast.”

You hum, switching to the other side. “You could dye it red and then when it fades it would fade to pink.”

He lets out a little gasp. “That’s smart! I like it.”

From down the room, Taehyung’s voice echoes. “Hyung, you’re fucked!”

“Hey!” Jin cries. “It’s going to look good, just trust me on this!”

Taehyung leans his back against the sink and clasps his palms together like he’s praying. “Yoongi-hyung, picture this. You’re Bob Ross. You’re painting a beautiful lake on a sunny day. Blue sky, clear water, lush riverbanks. Can you see it?”

Yoongi frowns. “Sure.”

“The little cup of dirty water you used to clean your brushes with? That’ll be your hair.”

“Oh, god,” Yoongi moans miserably, slumping so low he almost falls off the seat.

“Disrespectful little brat,” Jin enunciates as Taehyung moves back across the room. “This was your idea!”

It takes the entire rest of the day, but by the time you all sit down on the couches for dinner - courtesy of a food delivery app, Yoongi and Jin both too tired to cook - three of the eight of you have shiny new looks.

Jungkook looks undeniably striking with his stripes of firetruck red framing his face. Contrasting sharply with the black of the rest of his hair, you could easily mistake him for a Twitch streamer or something, pulling off the look with a natural coolness.

Done with purple, Namjoon had taken advantage of Jimin’s decent level of expertise and let the blue-haired man work his magic, bleaching his hair a couple of times and dying it to the unusual choice of silvery grey, the roots slightly darker so that - in Jimin’s words - he could get away with regrowth for longer.

But perhaps the biggest surprise of all is Yoongi, who smugly peacocks around the room with a unique shade somewhere between mint and teal in his hair. Jin had quietly confessed to you and Jungkook when he was cleaning his bowl that it wasn’t in fact, the colour he intended it to be, but that what Yoongi didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

The blue-green tones are somewhat reminiscent of the clear lake Taehyung was describing, and it brings out the soft pink of Yoongi’s lips and his dark lashes so beautifully. How Jin’s luck never seemed to run out, you didn’t know, but part of you wished you had volunteered yourself for a dye job too. Now you, Jin, Hoseok and Taehyung were the leftovers with natural hair.

Like some sort of unspoken agreement, the seven of you keep a close eye on Taehyung throughout the evening. You let him pick a movie for all of you to watch, pile extra food into his bowl, Jungkook even brings a secret stash of chocolate down from his room to share with him. All of you sensitive of how he must be feeling, it’s only natural that you take extra good care of the masseuse.

And, when it finally comes to head up to bed, Taehyung is flooded by offers to keep him company in the bunkroom. It’s Jungkook he picks, the two thick as thieves, and shortly after midnight your phone goes off from a text that Jungkook has sent to everyone except Taehyung. Just two words that are enough to allow your mind and body to rest. He’s okay.

[wayward-dreamer]

Life’s Lessons - Part 12

Title: Life’s Lessons - A Lesson in Doing Things Right

Pairing: Mechanic!Dean x Female!Teacher!Reader

Word Count: 7,392 (texts, thoughts and song lyrics in italics)

Part Summary: Dean and Y/N go on their first official date. The night has to come to a close early, but not before Y/N gives Dean something to hold him over until they can be together again. A busy week keeps them separated, but a little rendezvous at the school between breaks in parent/teacher conference helps deal with not being able to see each other.

Warnings: Brief mentions of insecurities. Other than that, Fluff... like so much fluff. Dean being sweet AF (yes, that’s a warning). And SO MUCH SMUT. Dry humping, Semi-public, Oral Sex (Male Receiving), Vaginal Fingering, Unprotected sex (wrap it up before you tap it, people), Biting, Dirty talk, Swearing. 

Music: Whole Lotta Love by Led Zeppelin (not featured within the chapter, but listen to it during the Dean and Y/N school scene).

Life’s Lessons Spotify Playlist

A/N: Thank you to everyone who has been reading and loving this series! It honestly means so much to me to see how much you guys have been enjoying it! Seriously, thank you so much! Only 3 chapters and an epilogue after this. I can't believe how time has suddenly flown by and we’re nearly there! I can’t wait for you guys to see what else is going to happen as we come closer to the end. Happy reading and enjoy! :)

Life’s Lessons Masterlist

Dividers by the wonderful @firefly-graphics! Check her out for all your AU needs!!!

Before Y/N knew it, it was the next day and the day of her first date with Dean that night. Being the gentleman that he was, he left after they watched TV for a while the night before, to go sleep in his own bed. He had left regretfully, leaving her with a kiss she could still feel even as she went to bed. The sexual chemistry between them was tangible, and she wanted to almost skip the date and pull him into her bed to see what that chemistry could do. However, Dean seemed to really want to take her out and she would never refuse him.

Though it did beg the question… did they need to be going out on dates? In her heart she already knew how she felt for him. This wasn’t dating for her; this was much more. She had an inkling that he may have felt the same, considering he told her that she was it for him. Maybe some would say it was too soon to be feeling that this was what she wanted and nothing else, but she couldn’t help it. That’s how she felt. She knew he was the one since the moment they met, even if he was with someone else at the time. Everything had worked out the way it had for a reason. She was never one to believe in soulmates and people that were destined to be together, but she knew she was meant to be with Dean.

She was really looking forward to that night, but she was going to wait to bring these things up with Dean. She didn’t want to spoil his efforts to make this a special night for them. It was pretty simple, just dinner and a movie, and that’s all she needed.

Y/N was glad she had that Friday off before she went back to school on Monday and took it as an opportunity to see the girls. It was a rare occasion that Meg didn’t have a shift on a Friday, and so they took the opportunity to see each other and catch up.

They had come over and had sandwiches and soup for lunch, and they all caught up about everything they had missed in each other’s lives over the holidays. She told them about her family and how she had so much fun seeing them again, and about the present Dean had gotten her, showing them. Charlie had already seen it, obviously, but she was still happy for her friend, nonetheless.

“Please thank Dorothy as well, I know she must’ve had to pull a few strings for Dean” Y/N said, looking over at Charlie.

“It was no hassle, really. She just called in some favors that she was owed” Charlie shrugged.

There was a short pause in the conversation before Meg spoke up.

“So, Dean looked pretty happy by the time midnight rolled around for us” she started, putting her spoon down as she finished eating. “Did you have something to do with that?”

Y/N bit her lip, trying to keep the smile off her face, but failing. “Maybe.”

“I knew it. He looked way too happy when he came out of the room after talking to you” Meg grinned. “So… did you do something dirty?”

“Meg” Y/N laughed, slightly embarrassed. Charlie chuckled but made no move to stop Meg.

“Well?” Meg wondered, raising an eyebrow.

“We… may have” Y/N said, shrugging. Meg looked at her, knowingly. She knew she couldn’t keep a secret very well and they would get it out of her eventually. “Okay, fine. We had phone sex.”

Meg suddenly cheered as Charlie groaned, taking out a couple of bills from her pocket and handing them over.

“You guys bet on this?” Y/N asked, shocked.

“Meg made a bet that you and Dean had phone sex” Charlie frowned, as she watched Meg pocket the money.

“Wow” Y/N said, shaking her head. Though she wasn’t surprised by her friend doing that.

“So… how was it?” Meg asked, grinning.

“It was… intense. I’ve never done that with a guy before… but it was really hot” Y/N laughed, slightly as she described that night to her friends. “Now, I just want to be with him properly.”

“It’ll happen” Charlie said, smiling reassuringly.

“He asked me out” Y/N said, smiling. “He’s taking me to dinner and a movie tonight.”

Both Charlie and Meg looked at her, wide eyed. “Uh, excuse me… why didn’t you open with that?!” Meg asked, shaking her head.

“I meant to, sorry” Y/N chuckled softly.

“Oh my god, you’re going on your first date with Dean!” Charlie clapped her hands, giddily.

Y/N laughed at her, shaking her head. She sobered as she thought about what her friend just said. “It doesn’t feel like a first date though. I mean, we spend so much time together, we’ve been having dinner together almost every night since I ended things with Mark. It’s all felt like we’re dating… so is this really the first date?”

Charlie nodded, understanding what she meant. “Well, it’s more of an official date. You and Dean are pretty much together anyway, he clearly just wants to do it the right way.”

“I guess you’re right” Y/N nodded. “Doesn’t mean I don’t want to jump his bones.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll make you look so irresistible tonight, he can’t possibly think of anything else” Meg smiled, wagging her eyebrows.

“You don’t think it’s too soon?” Y/N asked.

“Hey, Charlie said it, you guys are pretty much a couple anyway. It’s gonna happen sooner or later” Meg shrugged, as she got up and carried her plate over to the sink.

The girls helped Y/N pick out what to wear for her date with Dean. Something that was appropriate for the type of date it was and sexy at the same time. She settled on a black dress and her black over-knee heeled boots, and her long fawn coat. As it got closer to the time for their date, Y/N got ready. She did her make-up and hair, putting a slight wave through it and settling it over one shoulder. The girls left once they gave her a look of approval and wished her luck. Y/N promised to call them and tell them how it went.

“1… 2… 3”

Dean counted down as he lifted the frame from one side, Benny on the other. They slotted the hooks on the wall into the grooves on the frame. Dean stepped down from the ladder to see if it was properly aligned and even, smirking when it looked perfect. Benny stepped down from his ladder, standing next to Dean and admiring the framed black and white photo of the Impala, that Y/N had given him for Christmas.

They had been at the new building all day along with Ellen, all three of them fixing the place up before all the new equipment and machinery came in the following week. Ellen had fixed up the reception area and some parts of the garage with Benny, while Dean fixed up the office and some of the workstations. Some of the other workers would be in over the weekend to take care of other duties as well. It had been a tiring day, but he wasn’t about to let that stop him from thinking about Y/N and their date that night.

To others, it might’ve seemed a little redundant to take her out on a date when they were practically a couple already, but it wasn’t to him. He wanted to show her what she meant to him and treat her special. He wanted to do things right this time. He had taken Lisa out on dates but there wasn’t all that much effort put into them, most of the time ending up at the diner or the bar. Things were different with Y/N. She wasn’t just any girl, she was… well, he was in love with her. He needed her to know that, even if he couldn’t say it just yet.

A bump on his shoulder alerted him that Benny was still there, a slightly amused expression on his face to see his friend spaced out for whatever reason.

“You okay there, brother?” he asked.

“Yeah” Dean nodded, picking up the ladder and walking out of the office to put it back in the corner of the garage. Benny followed behind him, doing the same.

“You spacing out wouldn’t have something to do with a little lady by the name of Y/N, would it?” Benny grinned.

Dean rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “It’s none of your damn business, Lafitte.”

Benny chuckled to himself as he followed behind Dean, back into the office. “Things getting anywhere with you two, yet?”

“Yeah” Dean said, not wanting to say too much just yet.

“You gotta give me a little more than that, chief” Benny shrugged, not budging on the topic.

“Well, considering you won’t drop it… yes. I’m taking her out tonight” Dean told him as he looked down at some papers on his desk, sorting through them.

“Nice” Benny said, clapping him on the back. “Now, why ain’t ya shouting that from the rooftops, man?” the Southerner asked, confused that Dean was being so secretive.

“Because…” Dean trailed off, as he looked at his Southern friend, dropping the papers on the desk. “I just wanna be cautious. That’s all.”

Dean didn’t want to jinx anything by making too much of it. He had gained a whole lot of luck by her coming into his life. He didn’t want to start losing it.

Benny nodded, understanding. “I get it, brother. I do.” Benny tapped him gently on the back again, a soft smile on his face. “I’m happy for ya, Dean. ‘Bout time you got a good woman.”

Dean smiled, his mind instantly on Y/N as he nodded. “Thanks, Benny.”

Dean fixed up his desk a little before he glanced up at the clock, seeing that it was time for him to leave, go home and get ready for his date with Y/N. He said a quick bye to Ellen and Benny, who were just fixing up a few things before they were due to leave as well. Dean pulled out of the parking lot to the new building, flooring his beloved Baby as he headed home.

When Y/N heard the doorbell ring a few times, she smiled as she walked out of her room and down the hallway. She opened the door and smiled even wider as she saw Dean, looking incredible in his black jacket and dark blue jeans, a black sweater underneath and a black scarf around his neck. He hadn’t shaved and she was glad for it, loving a little scruff on him. Dean looked her up and down, smirking. She looked so good as she leaned against the door, her dress and boots making her look irresistible.

“You look… you look amazing” he told her, still smirking.

“You look pretty amazing yourself, handsome” she said, leaning into him as she kissed him.

“Ready to go?” he asked before kissing her again.

She moved back and picked up her bag, smiling at him. “Ready.”

She locked up her house and followed him over to the Impala, smiling as he turned on his music and drove them into the main town square.

They got to the restaurant in time, Dean giving them his name and being led to the back where it was slightly quieter, to a table for two. They sat down across from each other and Y/N smiled as she looked around the room. It was a quaint place, exposed brick walls with black and white photos of Lawrence and of Kansas City landmarks. Each table had a candle in a glass holder, bathing the room in a warm glow. As they had walked through, they had passed the kitchen, and her mouth had watered at the aromas wafting through.

“I love this place” she said, smiling at him as they settled in.

“Yeah, it’s pretty awesome” Dean smiled, looking around. “Food’s insane, too.”

They gave the waiter their drink orders, telling him they’d need a few more minutes to decide what to eat. When he came back with their drinks, a whiskey for Dean and a glass of white wine for Y/N, they decided on what they were getting. The waiter took their orders and then they were finally alone.

“So…” she said, trailing off as she flashed him a smile.

He smirked, leaning forward and folding his arms on the table. “So…”

She couldn’t keep the smile off her face. “I’m so happy we’re doing this.”

“Me too” he nodded, as he continued to look at her. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you’re wondering why, though.”

“I kind of was.” Y/N pursed her lips, nodding. “Can I say something, and you promise not to overthink it?” she asked, hoping he’d be fine with the question she wanted to ask.

“Sure” he shrugged, not seeing a problem just yet.

“I’m so happy you asked me out on a date” she started, reaching over the table and holding his wrist. “I just think… maybe we don’t need to? I mean, I know how I feel about you. It’s way past the dating stage and it’s scary to think of that way, but it’s true-” she rambled, and Dean cut her off with a small chuckle, as he took her hand off his wrist and clasped his with hers.

“I know we don’t need to, because I… I know I feel about you, too” he said, as his thumb ran over her knuckles. “I just wanna do the right thing here, Y/N. I have to do things right this time. I took Lisa out on dates, yeah, but they weren’t much to write home about, you know? I want things to be different with you.”

She smiled, genuinely touched by what he said. “That’s very sweet.”

“Well, I’m a sweet guy, what can I say?” he grinned, his cocky attitude on full display.

She rolled her eyes as she laughed. “How humble of you.”

“And hey, what kind of a boyfriend doesn’t take his drop-dead gorgeous girlfriend out on a date? Come on” he said, feigning anger but a smile came through as he brought her hand to his lips and kissed it.

“That’s true” she said, giddy from the sweet gesture.

“And we gotta have some stories to tell our kids someday” he said, as he picked up his drink and took a sip.

She stared at him, wide-eyed. He clearly hadn’t realized what he just let slip.

“Kids, huh?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. She bit back a laugh as she saw his eyes bulge out of his sockets.

“I-I um…” he stuttered a little, as he tried to find the words to erase what he just said. When he looked at her and saw her smiling at him, with some new look in her eyes that he couldn’t quite place, he knew he didn’t need to hide away what he just said. “Yeah. Kids.”

She picked up her glass and took a sip of her wine, smiling around the edge of it. When she put it down and looked at him, she took his hand again. “Just know that I don’t need more than just you to know how you feel, but I’m glad for this date and any others all the same. And I can’t wait to tell our kids about them someday.”

If his friends could see him now, they’d rip him a new one for the full-blown chick-flick moment he was having. He didn’t care, though. He had the most amazing woman, and he was lucky to have her in his life.

He would never stop thanking whatever higher power existed for her coming here to Lawrence.

After dinner, they walked over to the cinema complex and bought tickets to an action movie. Y/N adored him for trying to say that they should go see a rom-com for her, but she told him that just because she was a girl, it didn’t mean that she liked all of the rom-coms out there. She had a feeling he was very relieved that she had insisted on the action movie. Dean bought them a large popcorn and drink combo to share, and they sat in the back row.

They munched on the popcorn as the movie played out as every other action film did. However, during one particularly steamy scene between the male and female protagonists, Y/N felt her body heating up. She crossed her legs uncomfortably, feeling hot as she sat next to Dean while the actors on screen were all over each other. She glanced over at Dean, seeing him shift slightly in his seat. Flashes of the night in her hotel room on New Year’s entered her mind, remembering how Dean had brought her so much pleasure just from his words.

At the same time, Dean was thinking about the same night, too. About how hot she sounded, about how he wanted to hear her say his name like she had that night, over and over again. You couldn’t cut the sexual tension in that cinema with a knife, as the rest of the movie carried out. They had both never been so relieved when it was finally over.

The drive back home had been silent, except for the music softly playing from the car’s radio. However, Y/N smiled to herself as she felt Dean’s hand slip into hers on the seat, in between them. He held it tightly and squeezed, lifting it as he turned his head and planted a kiss on her knuckles. When they arrived home, Dean parked the car and got out, taking her hand in his again when she got out as well. They walked across the street to her house, hand-in-hand, content to just be together. Finally.

Y/N walked up the porch stairs and to her front door, turning around and smiling up at him. She leaned up, her heeled boots giving a little more advantage to reach him better, planting a searing kiss on his perfect lips. Her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him in deeper as his wrapped around her waist, inside her coat. She pressed back against the door as they continued their kiss, neither of them making a move to stop. Y/N pulled away and nipped along Dean’s stubbled jaw, loving the slight sting of his stubble across her lips.

“Y/N, uh, we should stop” he chuckled slightly, pulling an inch away from her to look her in the eyes.

She hummed as she combed her fingers through his hair, causing him to groan at the feel of it. “I think we should move this inside, don’t you?”

“I’d love to, sweetheart and believe me I really want to, but I gotta be up super early to uh… do something” he tried to explain as best as he could, without sounding suspicious. Which he hadn’t succeeded at because she frowned at him.

“Do something?” she asked, confused. “What?”

Dean blinked a few times, trying to think of something. He didn’t want to tell her that he had to go work on the new house, considering he completely envisioned her in that place. He wanted it to be a surprise for their future together.

“I can’t say, not yet at least” he replied, looking sheepish.

She raised an eyebrow as she looked at him but decided not to push any further. She trusted him and she knew that he’d tell her when he was ready.

“Okay” she nodded, slightly disappointed.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart” he whispered as he leaned in and kissed her nose.

“It’s fine” she shrugged, trying not to let it get to her. She turned around and faced the door and was about to put the key in the lock when Dean wrapped his arms around her waist, locking her in his embrace. He nuzzled his nose along her jaw, and kissed her cheek, softly.

“I’ll make it up to you, soon. I promise” he smirked, tilting his head to look at her.

Feeling him extremely close to her, his front to her back, gave her a naughty idea which she couldn’t get out of her head now that it was in there.

“I know” she said, turning her head to look at him. “But in the meantime, maybe I can leave you with a little something…”

She emphasized her words with a small tilt of her hips, pushing them back into his. He hummed as he felt her ass against the crotch of his jeans, his cock twitching slightly in his pants.

“Don’t play dirty with me, sweetheart” he growled in her ear. A shiver ran down her as she bit her lip, rubbing into him again. She could feel herself getting wet between her legs.

“Somehow I think you like that” she sighed, as she leaned back and pecked his lips. She took his hands in hers, moving them to hold onto her hips. She slowly began rutting back against him, his groans alerting her to his arousal. She moaned as she felt his cock becoming hard, straining against his jeans.

“Shit, Y/N” he hissed, feeling the pressure in his pants and not being able to do anything about it. He glanced around, hoping that no one would come out of their houses and see them. “Someone could see us.”

She shook her head, not letting him move away. “It’s okay, baby. It’s a quiet street, no one’s going to know.”

Dean thrust his hips forward against hers, growling as he felt his cock press against her ass every time he moved forward. She took his hands and moved them up her body, moving her coat back as she planted them on her breasts. He grunted as she pushed into him a little harder as their hips continued to meet, his covered hard on rubbing against the fabric of her dress over her behind. He could feel that he was about to lose it, as they continued to grind against each other.

“Fuck” he bit out through clenched teeth. He palmed her covered breasts, leaning in to kiss her neck. “Shit, sweetheart, fuck” he huffed as he groaned.

“Dean” she moaned, as she glanced back at him. Seeing her hooded eyes as her perfect mouth hung open from the pleasure that coursed through her, pushed him over the edge.

“Fuck, Y/N” he grunted as he leaned his forehead on her shoulder, shaking as his seed released inside his jeans.

Y/N smiled as she felt him breathing heavily, his chest against her back. She didn’t cum, but that didn’t bother her when it came to Dean. This was about him and just giving him another little preview of things to come for them.

“I feel like a teenage boy.” He shifted uncomfortably, his jeans no doubt stained now.

“You’re fucking full of surprises, sweetheart” he chuckled, as he nuzzled into her neck.

She laughed a little as she turned around, cupping his face in her hands. “You have no idea.”

She leaned in and kissed his lips, smiling into the kiss. He pulled away and looked at her, lifting a hand to stroke her Y/H/C hair back as he cupped her face.

“I better go” he whispered as he looked into her Y/E/C eyes. He leaned in, softly kissing her lips. “I’ll call you tomorrow after I’m done.”

“Okay” she said, smiling at him.

Dean stepped back from Y/N, winking at her before he turned around and walked down the porch stairs. Y/N went into her house, locked the door and practically screamed as she thought about everything that had just happened outside, a few minutes ago. She couldn’t believe she did something like that but as she had already realized, when it came to Dean, she lost all her inhibitions.

As she got ready for bed, she couldn’t stop thinking about how things were already so amazing between the two of them, and they were only going to get better.

Dean cleaned himself up and got dressed into a black shirt and sweats. When he climbed into bed and stared up at the ceiling, he smirked as he thought about Y/N. She kept surprising him, and he loved that. Given their age difference he had to keep up with her a little, but she was incredible in every way.

She was going to be the death of him, he was sure of it, but damn it if she wasn’t the most amazing woman he had ever been with.

The next few days were incredibly busy for both Y/N and Dean. He was busy with everything at the new garage, and she was busy with getting back to school and the start of the next semester. They had parent/teacher conference as well, so that added another layer of stress to that week.

The day of the parent/teacher conference was a long day. A day of classes first, and then once the kids left, the teachers set up their classrooms and made them look fancy with all the projects. Y/N had set up the room with different quotes from books and photos of literary figures, some that they had already studied and some that they would in the future. Parents of every form were there; couples still together, couples divorced and co-parenting, single moms, single dads and foster parents.

She was happy that she had this opportunity to meet them, and she was glad that things had become better, with almost all of the kids doing well. Some were at higher levels than others, but everyone was doing as well as they could in terms of their aptitude, and Y/N felt good about that. There were a couple, however, that she knew were going to have trouble in high school if they didn’t turn it around, quickly.

In between sessions, Y/N scrolled through her phone’s social media apps, texted Charlie and Cas down the hallway if they could take a break at the same time as her. After about only 15 minutes of catching up, however, they all had to go back to their next meetings. The hours were ticking by slowly, as she kept herself entertained with a book in between meetings. At another break, she was trying to read but she just couldn’t concentrate. Looking at the time, she realized that it was 6.30pm. Dean would’ve finished work half an hour ago, so she decided to text him.

Y/N: Currently waiting on my next meeting, but I’m so bored. I keep trying to read but I think I’ve read the same line 500 times in the last few minutes.

Dean: Well, I literally just finished work and on my way home!

Y/N: Oh no! What happened?

Dean: Eh, late deliveries that I had to wait around for. Dinner might be late, unless… pizza tonight?

Y/N bit her lip as an idea came to her. Now that he wasn’t making dinner and they could always order pizza a little later, she wanted to see what he thought about her idea.

Y/N: Sounds good, but maybe we can hold off on it for a bit?

Dean: Uh… I guess. Why?

Y/N: Do you think you can come to the school?

Dean: What are you up to, sweetheart?

Y/N: Why don’t you come here and find out? ;)

Dean stared down at his phone, every possibility of what she wanted going through his head. He shook his head. It couldn’t be what he was thinking.

Dean: Do I want to?

Y/N smiled as she shook her head. He clearly didn’t realize she was being serious about him coming to the school.

Y/N: Yes ;)

Dean choked at that message. Was his teacher fantasy about to play out? He almost couldn’t believe it.

Dean: On my way!

Y/N laughed at the gif of a car speeding that he had added.

Y/N: Give me 15 minutes with the next parents, and then I’m all yours, handsome. She added a heart emoji.

Dean couldn’t help but let out a groan when he read that.

Dean: Damn right you are ;)

Y/N felt a shiver run down her body as she bit her lip, reading his message. She had no idea what was going to happen once he got to the school, but damn she was excited to find out. The haze of arousal was broken however, when the next parents came in. They were talkers and the meeting went a little over time, but eventually they were both satisfied with everything Y/N told them. They thanked her and left, leaving her to wonder when Dean was going to get there. She stood up, took off her glasses and shut the lid of her laptop and was just about to message Dean and see where he was, when a light knock on the door interrupted her.

She smiled when she looked up and saw Dean leaning against the doorframe, smirking at her. He walked in and closed the door behind him, locking it, and pulling the blind down over the window in the door.

“I came in when the parents were leaving” he said, as he walked over to her. He gently pulled her towards him by her hand, her body close to his as he wrapped his arms around her waist. She smiled up at him, her arms automatically wrapping around his neck.

“I’m glad you did, but there’s still some people here so we have to be quiet” she told him. Even with her heeled knee-high boots on, she still had to push herself up slightly on the toes, to press her lips to Dean’s. “And… we have to be quick before the next meeting in 20 minutes.”

“Oh really?” he grinned. “What’re you planning on doing to me in 20 minutes?”

She hummed against his lips, her fingers combing through the short hair at the back of his head. “So many things. I’ve barely seen you; you’ve been so busy with the new site and I’ve been busy with everything leading up to tonight.”

He groaned, as one of his hands slipped down slightly, laying over one side of her behind, covered by her grey A-line skirt. “Fuck. I know. I swear, when things calm down slightly and it’s just up to the contractors to get all the heavy machinery into the site in the next few days, I’m taking you out.”

“I look forward to that, but I hope that doesn’t mean we can’t do a few things right now” she whispered against his lips.

“Definitely not” he whispered back, finally claiming her lips in a searing kiss.

If it were even possible, they pulled each other in even tighter, their bodies moulded together as they continued to kiss, passionately. Y/N softly bit Dean’s bottom lip, causing him to open his mouth and deepen the kiss. She moaned into the kiss, feeling his hand press a little harder into her ass. She pushed into his body, causing him to take a few steps back until his back was pressed against the wall. Her arms came away from his neck, her hands roaming over his muscles through his jacket and moving down his chest.

Her hands moved under his maroon button-up and pushed it off along with his jacket, Dean taking over in removing them completely and tossing them on the floor. Her lips moved away from his, kissing and nipping along his jaw, moving down to his neck. He groaned as she nipped at his neck, his hands groping her ass. Her hands moved over the black t-shirt covering his chest, and down to the outside of his jeans, feeling that he was getting hard already. She rubbed her hand along the seam of his jeans, feeling him grow harder. Dean hissed, feeling the pressure of his cock against the fabric of jeans. Suddenly, Dean stopped for a second, looking around. “Are you sure about this?”

“Of course,” she said, as she cupped his face. “Dean, what’s wrong?”

He smiled at her, a little sadly. “Should our first time really be like this?”

She smiled at him, her heart bursting with love at his concern. “Dean… I want you. I know you want me, too. I know you keep saying that we should do things right, but what’s right is you and me. Does this feel wrong to you?”

“No” he said, shaking his head, his response quick and firm.

“Then… there’s no problem, right?” she asked, biting her lip.

He groaned as he looked at her doing that. That always made him weak. “Right.”

Y/N smiled at him and went back to what she was doing. She unbuckled his belt and pulled it through the loops, tossing it behind her. She unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, pushing them down slightly. She pulled down his boxers and gasped as his cock was on full display, hard, as his length and girth made her mouth begin to water. He was bigger than any of the other men she had been with, and she felt her heart begin to beat faster. She lightly grasped it, her hand moving slowly along the shaft. She stared into Dean’s eyes and smiled, biting her lip. He let out a shaky breath as he looked at her, his eyes clouded with arousal. Her fingers moved over the tip, feeling pre-cum drip out onto her fingers. She took his cock in both of her hands, pumping them up and down as she moved down to her knees.

Dean groaned as he watched Y/N get on her knees, his cock in her hands. She leaned forward and kissed the tip, her tongue circling the head. She sucked at the head, slowly taking in more of him, inch by inch. Her hand grasped the base of his cock, pumping up and down as she bobbed her head, wetting the shaft with her saliva. She looked up at him as her other hand cupped his balls, massaging them in her hand.

Dean grunted, throwing his head back against the wall, his mouth hanging open. “Fuck, sweetheart. You’re so fucking good at that.” He looked down at her, his thumb stroking her jaw, as her cheeks hollowed while she continued to take him into her mouth. “Love seeing your mouth on my cock.”

She moaned loudly as she drew back and pulled her mouth off him, her hand continuing to move along his dick. “Your cock feels so good in my mouth, Dean. I can’t wait to feel you inside me.”

Dean couldn’t wait for that either. He took her hand off him and tugged, making her stand up. Her mouth felt incredible, but he definitely didn’t want to cum yet.

Y/N let go of Dean’s hand and moved hers under the waistband of her skirt, pulling out the end of her black, full sleeve top. Dean moved her hands away, taking over as he pulled the end of her shirt over her breasts, revealing her dark red bra. He reached up and pulled the cups down, her nipples pebbled and aching against the slight chill in the room. He leaned into her right breast, kissing her flesh, his tongue circling the nub. She grasped his hair in her hands, bringing him in closer.

“Dean” she gasped, as he sucked and nipped at her, moving to her left and doing the same.

Dean bent his knees, grasping the bottom of her skirt and bunching it, revealing her matching panties. His hand moved in, his fingers rubbing along the outside of the fabric, feeling how wet she already was.

“Shit, you’re so wet sweetheart. Did sucking my cock turn you on that much?” he asked, his voice husky as his fingers moved faster along the fabric.

She let out a shaky breath, as she nodded. “Yeah.”

“Yeah?” he chuckled, slightly.

She nodded, frantically as his hand continued to move. “Dean…”

“What, sweetheart?” he asked, kissing her nipple.

He hooked a finger in her panties and moved them to the side, groaning as he felt her wetness against his fingers. He ran them along her folds, his thumb flicking lightly over her clit.

She moaned, her chest heaving as she breathed deeply. “F-fuck me. Please. Please fuck me.”

Dean moved them backwards, until her ass rested against the edge of her desk. He grasped her thighs and lifted her up, sitting her on top of it.

Dean’s hands moved down along her thigh-high stockings, biting his lip as he felt her soft flesh against his fingers. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him for a heated kiss. Her hand cupped his jaw, bringing his mouth tight against hers. They parted when they needed to breath, as she wrapped her boot-covered legs around his hips. Dean lifted his black shirt up and took it off, her hands immediately roaming over his muscular arms and shoulders, his hard but soft torso. She bit her lip, keeping herself from moaning too loudly at the sight of him. He was truly the most gorgeous man she had ever been with. Dean moved closer, as he took hold of his cock, pumping his hand along the shaft a few times.

He stopped, however, when he realized something. “Shit, I don’t have any-” he started but she cut him off with a quick kiss to his lips.

“I’m on the pill” she nodded as she looked into his eyes. “We’re good.”

He smirked slightly, as he looked at her. “Okay.”

He took hold of cock and guided it to her entrance, pressing the tip in. He moved forward, slowly sinking into her warm cavern. She hummed at the feel of him, her walls stretching to accommodate his size. He gave her a second to adjust, before he slowly started to pull out. He pushed back in, setting a slow rhythm.

“Y/N” he moaned, softly. “Fuck, you’re so fucking tight. So fucking perfect.”

His hips met hers, as he gradually picked up the pace. He thrusted into her at a moderate pace, causing her to moan loudly, forgetting where they were.

He laughed as he pressed his lips to hers. “Shh, sweetheart. Can’t let anyone hear us.”

She whimpered, as she moved her hips against his. “Fuck, Dean.”

Dean growled low, feeling it rumble in his chest. “Shit, sweetheart. You feel fucking amazing wrapped around my cock.”

“Dean” she moaned quietly. “Fuck me harder.”

“Harder, huh?” he grinned, pressing his forehead against hers. “Like this?”

He drove his hips in, the drag of his hips longer as he continued at the pace he had set, but his cock moving in harder and deeper within her.

“Yes” she gasped. “Just like that. Oh god, Dean.”

“You like that?” he asked, as he looked down at his cock driving into her.

“Yes” she moaned, her voice choked as she tried to stop herself from raising her voice.

She threw her head back, exposing her neck, her chest pushing out. Dean leaned in, kissing her neck, along her collarbone and down the valley of her breasts, feverishly. She moved in, wrapping her arms around him, tightly. Their faces were close to each other, their hot breath mingling as they let out small moans, gasps and groans. Y/N leaned down, sinking her teeth into Dean’s shoulder as she tried to stop herself from moaning loudly. Dean hissed at the sting of her teeth on his flesh but moaned softly as it added another layer of pleasure to what he was already feeling.

Dean’s hips picked up pace, the desk underneath them beginning to rock back and forth from the force of his thrusts. Y/N pressed her lips together, trying to keep quiet, as her hips met his, matching his pace. They were both close.

“Fuck, Y/N” he grunted, pressing his forehead against hers.

“Dean” she moaned, opening her eyes and staring at him. “I’m so close.”

The coil began to wind up tight in her core, ready to break at any moment. She whimpered as he grabbed her hips and drew her in closer, his cock hitting her g-spot with every thrust.

“Cum for me, Y/N. Cum on my cock” he groaned, his hips unrelenting.

Items on the desk began to shake, and Y/N knew she had to get to her release before something fell and alerted someone to what was happening. Somehow Dean understood when she looked down at the lamp shaking; he quickly licked his fingers and brought them to her clit, circling the little bundle of nerves in tight, fast circles.

She let out a harsh gasp, her mouth hanging open as the coil snapped, panting quick, shallow breaths as she came. Her release slicked his cock, warm and wet against him. Dean’s thrusts became erratic, stuttering as he approached the edge.

“Dean” she moaned as she cupped his face, looking into his eyes. “Cum inside me.”

He panted, his breath hot against her lips, letting out a choked grunt as he thrust into her few more times, falling over the edge as he came inside her. He leaned his head on her shoulder, his hips slowing into shallow thrusts. He slowly pulled out of her, as she felt his seed drip out of her.

Y/N leaned her cheek against his head, combing her hand through his sweat soaked hair as they both came down from their high, breathing deeply. After a few moments, he slowly lifted his head, looking into her eyes. She smiled at him as he smirked, both of them laughing quietly. He leaned in, kissing her softly, a change of pace to how he had just fucked her, showing that he was as sweet as he was incredibly sexy. He kissed her lips, once, twice, three times before slowly moving away from her.

Y/N reached over and took out some tissues, cleaning herself as she passed Dean a few as well. He cleaned up and then pulled up his boxers and jeans, buttoning them up and pulling up the zip. He picked up his belt from the floor and put it through the loops, buckling it. She fixed her panties and pulled her skirt down, fixing the cups of her bra and pulling her top down, tucking it back in. Once they had redressed, Dean walked over to her as he shrugged on his jacket. He held her hips as he leaned in, kissing her again.

“You should head home” she told him, smiling. “I’ll be there in another hour.”

“Okay, I’ll order the pizza” he said, cupping her cheeks in his hands. “Should be there by the time you get home.”

“Sounds good” she said, still smiling.

There was a moment of silence between them as they looked at each other.

“That was amazing” she said, feeling her cheeks heat up.

“Fuck yeah, it was” he grinned, his eyes lighting up.

She laughed at him as she lightly smacked his chest.

“I’ll see ya in a bit” he whispered against her lips, kissing her softly.

“Yeah” she whispered as he pulled away.

Dean walked over to the door and unlocked it. He opened it and turned back to her, seeing her watching him. She looked even more beautiful with her lips slightly swollen from kissing, and the knowledge that he had just ravaged her almost got him hard all over again. With one last look and a wink at her that caused the most beautiful smile to grace her face, he left and walked down the hall, ready to head home and wait for her.

Y/N fixed everything on the desk which had moved during their rendezvous. After the last few couples came in for their meetings, she packed up her things, put on her coat and scarf and shut off the light in the room. She walked down the hallway, the heels of her boots echoing off the floors.

As she drove home, the smile just wouldn’t leave her face. What they did back there, had been everything she could possibly want. It had been everything that they both needed. It solidified everything they both wanted from each other and for their future.

They were each other’s future.

And that was the biggest reason to smile.

-x-

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[my-headcanons-academia]

Who said the UA traitor was a student?

Aizawa Class Traitor headcanons

• Aizawa is a trusted teacher so probably has access to the school's security system.

• He also has files on all of the students, any and all information he could ever need, their quirks their families, addresses, hell even their blood type at the ready.

• While he's 1A's homeroom teacher, he still teaches other classes and can have information on them too. Every single student's information just readily available to him.

• Also, he's competent enough to not get caught.

• I truly believe that Aizawa has good intentions, (He's my favourite pro-hero) but we've seen how his good intentions don't always mean good things for example,

- how he traumatized his classes, threatening expulsion for the smallest of mistakes putting everyone on guard all the time,

- pushes kids beyond their limits to where it's repetitively physically damaging and making that the baseline normal and other things like that. (I get it was to weed out the weak and unfit to be heroes and that it's an efficient way, but that doesn't mean it's not damaging.)

- He tells them to work on their quirks but doesn't actually help. (He tells Deku to get his quirk under control but never actually sits down with him and talks about why he's so far behind in his quirk development or come up with any methods or techniques he can use, and if he didn't know he could have recommended other teachers that knew, but no. No help.) Unless it's a special case like Shinsou but this is supposed to be his job for everyone, not just one student.

But even still, he has good intentions. Even if he doesn't do everything "right".

• So maybe those good intentions forced him to make a deal with someone who is infinitely more powerful than most heroes, All For One, in order to keep people safe. He wants to keep his class safe, there's no doubt about that, but maybe a deal like that is the reason no one in the class had died at USJ and other attacks where they easily could have if since were wannabe heroes mostly without professional training against supposedly pro Villains in a targeted and calculated attack.

• If he were the traitor I get the feeling All For One would like him. Aizawa is powerful, intelligent, focused, cold, competent but above all, powerful people like other heroes trust him. Which is something Tomura would never be able to accomplish. This would make Tomura hate Aizawa potentially leading to why the second he didn't have to focus on All Might at USJ, he went to hurt the students and ended up damaging Aizawa, in an attempt to get rid of whoever threatens his chance to be All For One's sole successor.

• Aizawa's private life is more secretive than his professional one, even his professional one isn't fully known to the public so it'd be rather easy to hide.

• Late at night when he can't sleep, Aizawa regrets not choosing another choice, maybe he does now. He's a smart man, he's probably gone over the moment he made that deal a million times over in his head and come up with thousands of other things, better things he should have done. But at the time, making the deal was the only clear option. He could always tell the other heroes and act as a spy on the League of Villains, but he doesn't doubt there are probably precautions the L.O.V have planned in case of that. There could be others like him to report on it.

He's tired.

• And then Present Mic finds out.

• Present Mic was called to raid a suspected L.O.V. base that was brought to the hero firms attention after a noise complaint and basic description of figures going in and out. And as loud as he is, he wanted to scope it out first so he may as well be quiet; he didn't have enough time to properly gel up his hair for hero duty like usual as this call was rather unexpected so it was instead in the quickest plait he could do, so he was already deciding not to draw too much attention to himself.

• It's a large factory turned warehouse that's been abandoned for long enough to start decaying however the large thick ledges around the boarded and broken windows he found to be large and stable enough to sneak around and scan the area.

• And his blood runs cold and fingers stiffen when he sees Aizawa talking- laughing -no Aizawa isn't laughing, the Villains are laughing, but it doesn't look like they're gloating or laughing at him, it looks like they're trying to laugh with him,

• He knows he should report it. He knows he should fight. He knows he should run. He knows the protocol.

• But he also knows his Aizawa.

• He texts Aizawa a picture of his view of them and watches as he pulls out his phone.

• Faint mutterings are exchanged and the villains leisurely walk out of there, relaxed, unphased. And Aizawa looks to where the photo must have been taken from.

• They stand there.

• Just staring at each other.

•Present Mic's trembling fingers call into the hero firm who sent him out, taking in a small but deep breath, "It's Empty. I don't see any sign of anyone either, maybe it was just some kids exploring who scattered or went somewhere else,"

• And Aizawa bites back shuddering breath at the idiot who didn't report him.

• Aizawa's capture tape wraps around the ceiling support beam and he swings, kicking Hizashi in the chest, forcing him down.

• Hizashi just lays there, staring at Aizawa.

• Aizawa is snarling, expecting some fight, some struggle, anything but just laying there and letting him crouch over and weakly pound his chest, hit after hit, over and over again. His heart clearly not in it, he's dishevelled and breathing unsteady like he's choking on words that clog his throat instead of let themselves be known to either one of them.

• Hizashi reaches up and cups Aizawa's face, and they each go still. He'd never seen Aizawa cry before,

• He used his thumb to wipe a tear from under his eye as Aizawa buried his face in Hizashi's chest.

• "Why? You-You had your chance. You should have called it in, should have captured them,-captured me, should have done something-anything, Hizashi." It wasn't venom he was speaking with, it was too desperate for that "why did you-" he took in a shuddering breath as if it were a sigh "Why didn't you..?"

• Hizashi sits up and wraps his arm around Aizawa and holds him.

• A gentle breeze from the broken window passes over them into the empty warehouse.

• Aizawa never heard Hizashi cry so quietly before.

• They go home together that night, order some food, and they talk. Hizashi keeps Aizawa's secret.

• And

• Despite Aizawa's recommendations,

• Despite Aizawa's warnings,

• Despite Aizawa's pleading.

• Hizashi will do whatever it takes to keep Aizawa safe. For instance,

• making a deal with All For One.

[carryonmywaywardcaptain]

Imagine...finding out there’s fanfic written about you--and even Charlie ships you with Dean

CarryOnCap’s Masterlist

Warnings: Fluff? Crack? A dramatic fanfic within a fanfic that I got carried away with haha.

A/N: This is kind of ridiculous, but I had fun with it! Also, I’ve never actually seen GoT but it seemed like a reasonable reference from what I’ve heard about it.

“Hey, look who I found!” Sam’s voice echoed through the War Room.

Dean glanced at you from across the table in the library, sharing your surprised expression as you both pushed your chairs away and stood. 

“‘Sup, bitches?” Charlie grinned, making her way up the steps toward you.

“Hey! We were expecting you guys to come in through the main door. We’ve been keeping an ear out.”

Charlie stepped into your outstretched arms and pulled you into a tight hug. “It was a spur of the moment decision, but I decided to stick around a day or two longer than planned! Sam said I could go ahead and park in the garage.”

She let go of you and turned to give Dean a hug too. He smiled softly with a look that was uniquely reserved for her, cradling the back of her head while she pressed her cheek against his.

“Good to see you, Charlie. You know you’re always welcome to stay as long as you want.”

An involuntary smile crept onto your face as you watched them. You couldn’t help the way your heart swelled at the low rumble in his voice when he said her name. There was an undeniable protectiveness in his tone when he spoke to her--the sister he’d never wanted, as he affectionately called her.

When you shifted your attention to her, you noticed she was watching you. Before you could decipher the knowing glint in her eye, she suddenly twisted out of his arms and glanced back and forth between you and Dean. She began swinging her arms awkwardly before opting to cross them over her chest.

“You okay?” Dean asked, furrowing his brow.

“Yeah! Of course...Totes chill...cooler than a pack of peppermints.” She bobbed her head and flashed a nervous smile, twisting her hair around her finger as she struggled to act nonchalant. “It’s just that I remembered something. A story I read a while back--completely random. Totally unrelated to anything--I mean, now I’m starting to ramble. Hah! So how’ve you guys been? Still saving the world from evil sons-of-bitches?” 

“Uh, yeah…” Sam answered, scrunching his eyebrows together. “We stay busy.”

“So what’s on the agenda tonight?” you piped up, changing the subject.

You were hoping to avoid swapping monster stories for a night. Charlie typically assumed the role of introducing you to popular and noteworthy fandoms during her visits to the bunker and, even if the boys weren’t as vocal, the three of you appreciated her knowledge of all things geeky and nerdy. 

“I was thinking Marvel. Y/N, you’re obviously well-versed in the MCU because of your obsession with Steve Rogers--and, you know, clearly you’ve got a thing for the strong, righteous, self-sacrificing hero type. Dean, you could stand to branch out from the Batman references and, Sam, you’ve got this whole Thor kind of vibe going on.”

While Sam and Dean began teasing each other and arguing over “Batman versus Thor,” you gaped at Charlie, wondering what she’d meant by her remark about you having a “type.” You couldn’t help feeling like she was trying to insinuate something, but you shrugged it off and decided maybe it was all in your head.

***

After getting Charlie settled into one of the extra bedrooms, the four of you settled into the Dean Cave and agreed to start with the first Captain America movie. 

Last Christmas, you and Sam had teamed up to surprise Dean with a couch for the Dean Cave. He had originally only had two La-Z-boy recliners and you’d found him fast asleep in the stiff old chairs on more than one occasion. Dean had been over the moon about the extra seating and the three of you had rearranged the furniture so the recliners were angled toward the tv on either side of the couch.

“Dibs on this side of the couch!” Charlie said, diving toward the furthest end from the door.

Although it was subtle, you knew there was still something off about the way Charlie studied all of you. There was definitely something on her mind she was trying to keep hidden from all of you.

“You know, we should probably have some snacks,” you said slowly. “Charlie, you want to come help me grab some stuff from the kitchen?”

“But I’m already comfy in my spot.” She frowned, wiggling her hips to make a point of sinking deeper into the spot she’d claimed on the couch. “Why don’t you have Dean help you?”

When you narrowed your eyes suspiciously, Sam cleared his throat. “Dean, why don’t I help you grab some snacks while Y/N and Charlie...catch up, er, whatever…”

You heard the boys leave the room and waited until their footsteps faded down the hall before you started interrogating her.

“Alright, Charlie--what the hell is going on with you?”

“I don’t know what you're talking about,” she muttered, scrolling through her phone.

“Bull. We lie for a living and I know there’s something you’re not telling us. So spill.”

“Fine,” she sighed. “Okay, so remember the Supernatural books by Carver Edlund?”

“Yeah…”

“The series obviously kind of had a cult following when it was in print, right? Well ever since the unpublished works got uploaded, the following has really taken off. Every once in a while a new one still pops up and the fans love them. And you’re in them now too!”

“I’m...what?”

“I mean it’s just insane and totally got sucked into it too. It’s brought on this whole new wave of fanfiction--”

“What’s fanfiction?” you cut in, struggling to keep up.

“It’s fiction made by the fans about the series. Sometimes they put themselves in the stories and write about working cases and fighting monsters with you guys--”

“Why would anyone want to pretend to do this crap with their lives?”

She stared at you for a moment and frowned. “Because you guys are heroes. I mean, yeah, there’s the whole depressing side of monsters and death and trauma and world-ending apocalypses--but you guys save people. You go on these exciting adventures of good versus evil and a lot of times you win. You save people. The fans really look up to all of you.”

Your gaze fell to the floor as you let her words sink in, but she didn’t give you long before she was rambling again.

“But that’s not even the best part! Everyone ships different OTPs--” she paused, noticing your puzzled expression “--uh, one true pairing… So everyone has a favorite couple they think are soulmates and belong together. There’s stories about Sam with Eileen or Jess, Dean with different people--you get the gist. Sometimes they even make up characters or do these ‘reader inserts’ and imagine themselves with the boys or you but, hands down, everyone’s favorite couple they want to end up together is you and Dean.”

“...what?” 

Your eyes grew wide. It was hard enough to wrap your mind around the fact that strangers who didn’t know you were a real person were reading about your life, but learning they imagined you in different relationships? You’d never admit it out loud, but had it bad for Dean. And hearing you weren’t the only one that wanted the two of you together...

“I’ve gone deep into the fic and I can’t believe I didn’t see it sooner!” Charlie shook you from your thoughts. “You and Dean are perfect for each other. For serious. I usually stick to the fluffy stuff because, you know, your entire life is kind of angsty and I don’t like to read about you guys being in pain or, like, dying...again. Although I definitely have to admit I kind of stumbled into some of the smutty stuff and, wow, that was something else.”

You opened your mouth to ask more questions, but she kept rolling.

“Right, you probably don’t know what that means either. Fluff is the cute stuff that gives us all feels, angst is kind of just what it sounds like, and smut is, well...the sexy stuff.”

“You mean people out there in the world write about me and Dean…”

“Going at it like an episode of Game of Thrones? Oh yeah,” she responded, unlocking her phone. “Here. Here’s an example.”

Swallowing audibly, you took a seat next to her on the couch as she extended her phone toward you. Gnawing your bottom lip, you began reading the words on the screen:

Y/N took a deep breath, holding it in briefly before she exhaled and began walking toward Dean’s room. Ever since they returned from the hunt, Dean had hidden himself away in his room--no doubt blaming himself for everything that had gone wrong.

When she arrived at his door, she raised her hand to knock. She hesitated, almost retreating at the thought of him turning her away, but she had to try. She had to get through to him somehow.

She rapped her knuckles on the raw umber barrier and opened the door of Room 11 before he could tell her to go away. 

She spotted him leaning over the sink, staring at his reflection in the medicine cabinet on the wall. His jade eyes flickered to where she stood in the doorway, their reflection somewhat distorted by cracks that spiderwebbed from where he had struck the mirror.

Her heart seemed to drop into her stomach as she imagined him lashing out, knowing he punched the mirror because he hated the reflection staring back at him. Knowing he always carried the weight of the world on his shoulders when he didn’t need to.

Y/N carefully shut the door and locked it behind her--the click of the deadbolt deafening in the silence. Her eyes never left Dean, who refused to turn and face her. She inched toward him, closing the distance until she could reach out and touch him. Gently placing her hand on his shoulder, she guided him to turn away from the mirror. Still, he refused to meet her eyes.

“Dean…” she breathed, voice barely above a whisper as she cupped his face in her hands. “It’s not your fault.”

He squeezed his eyes closed, face contorting with grief and guilt. The ghosts of his past refused to let him go, but she was determined to make him believe that he was worthy, no matter the cost.

Curling a finger beneath his chin, she tilted his head up, waiting patiently for him to meet her gaze. When his dark green orbs finally met hers, she was surprised to see that they were full of longing and desire. They flickered to her lips, making her breath tremble under the intensity of his gaze. Time seemed to slow until it froze altogether.

Anticipation hung heavy in the air as they both struggled against their desire to maintain the friendship they’d always had and the desperate need to finally cross that line. To succumb to the magnetic pull that had always been evident between the two of them.

Dean swallowed thickly before suddenly rushing forward, crashing his lips to Y/N’s as he pulled her into a searing kiss. He wrapped his strong arms around her, trapping her to his chest, afraid it was all a dream and she would soon disappear. But she gladly melted into his embrace, feeling like she was finally returning home, to a place she’d spent her life searching for.

A moan slipped past her lips as he walked her backward, pressing her up against the wall. She gasped, feeling his--

“The snacks have arrived!”

You jumped in surprise, a small gasp of surprise escaping as the boys appeared with armloads of snacks. Confusion and worry painted Dean’s face as he surveyed your flustered expression. Between his scrutinizing gaze and the content you’d practically been caught reading, your cheeks grew warm. 

“Did I miss something?” Dean asked.

“Nope,” you responded much too quickly.

Charlie’s phone had fallen into your lap and, when she began cackling, you whipped your head in her direction and flung the phone at her thigh. You grimaced and the two of you had your own silent conversation as the boys spread the food across the bar Dean had built on the far wall.

“I was just telling Y/N how pumped I am about seeing my favorite OTP tonight,” she giggled.

“Your...what?”

Dean’s arm brushed yours as he plopped down on the other side of you. The accidental contact sent a wave of chills over your skin, making you shudder. You could feel his eyes on you again, but you refused to look at him.

“Oh, I’m so going down with this ship,” Charlie whispered under her breath before continuing in a louder voice. “Nothing--nevermind! Don’t mind me, just thinking out loud...”

“It says here an OTP means...one true pairing?” Your eyes grew wide as you looked to where Sam was reading his phone from where he sat in one of the recliners. “So, uh, ‘in the fandom realm, OTP refers to the coupling of characters--usually from the sci-fi or fantasy genres--by fans who think they make a great romantic duo and envision their lives together and share their imaginings with other fans.’”*

Charlie doubled over, beside herself with laughter. With your lips pressed into a firm line, you glanced at the boys to gauge their reactions. You knew there was no way they could possibly know what you and Charlie had been talking about, but that didn’t stop you from worrying about what Dean might think if he ever found out about the feelings you harbored for him. 

“So...you’re looking forward to Cap and his girl in the movie? I’m so freaking confused,” Dean grumbled.

“Yeah…” Sam agreed, making his way to the tv. “I’m just, uh...I’m gonna start the movie now.” 

“Good idea.” Charlie peered at you out of the corner of her eye. “Plenty of time to read and talk about all those ships later.”

Although you glared at her, trying to hide your amusement, nothing could deter the smug smile etched upon her face. As Sam turned the lights off and you settled in for another relaxing night with your favorite people, one thing was certain:

You were definitely going to have to take another look at that fanfiction.

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[physicalturian]

[18+] Words of pleasure - Law x F!Reader - Part 2

[No spoilers] [Modern AU - College AU] [She/her pronouns used for the reader, no physical description; Everyone +18] Words : 5016 Archive of our own

Warning : Consensual BDSM / Power play / Dom/sub Dynamics / Cybersex / Stranger / Flirting … If you feel like I should add more warnings, send me a dm or and ask

-- Part 1 -

The heat of two bodies against one another. Skin upon skin, fingers grazing tenderly. Hands gripping suddenly, forcefully yet securely. I am holding onto dear life on his broad shoulders. My nails digging inside the skin. It makes him grunt in pleasure. I can’t hear it over my own sound of pleasure. My head lolls back, my neck is being attacked. Bites, kisses and words against it. My entire body is aflame. I’m now holding onto the bed head. I’m not surrounded by darkness anymore.

 The landscape has changed, I’m not on my bed. It’s a hospital bed. No one is around, someone is on top of me, I can’t see their face. But it feels good. Hot breath against my skin, soft hands on my hips. The increasing pressure inside-

“Hey wake up! If you want to ride with me to campus, you better get your ass out of bed.” I was startled awake by one of my roommates who seemed on edge. From what my brain understood, I was late and from the look on her face, she was pissed.

 Squinting my eyes at the sudden light from her brusque action of opening the curtains, I groaned. Her heels hitting the floor made my ears ring, it was too much too quickly but I wasn’t going to say anything. The ginger girl was stopped dead in her track by a hand on her shoulder, a softer voice spoke, “Come on Nami, look at her. Clearly, she went to sleep late again, give her some time to clear her head.” Robin said a lot calmer. With a small smile, she gave me a nod and pushed Nami out of the room.

 “You have ten minutes at best, hurry up. She has plans today.”

“And I am hungry, could you make me a sandwich while I get dressed Robin?” I asked with the softest pleading eyes I could manage at this hour. She smiled knowingly in return and nodded, but did not leave until she added, “It’s the last time you leave crumbs on the counter from your midnight snacks.”

 With wide eyes, I grimaced and nodded. It made her chuckle as she closed the door behind herself and left without a word.

 The moment I was left alone, I remembered the dream I was having and hurriedly got out of bed. “Nasty brain, naughty.” I mumbled while undressing. Sure, erotic dreams weren’t bad, but the fact that I had dreamt about that stranger was something entirely new. Maybe it was to be expected if we interacted more like we did last night, if we had more sessions like last night’s one. Damn, am I that needy for a good fuck? Is this what I’ve become? I thought with a huff.

 Once I was dressed, I grabbed my phone and all that I needed for class before leaving the room. On my way out I saw the notification that had popped on my screen, a message from the doctor but it was one from last night.

 HandSurgeon: I’ll allow you to call me doc, just because my username is not very adequate when shortened. But watch it.

 Looking at it I laughed and wrote back, albeit later than when he had sent his message.

 Edelweiss: Good morning to you too, doc. Hope you were able to catch some z’s, because of you I almost missed my class.

Edelweiss: kidding, it’s entire my fault but I want to blame it on you for the fun.

 I shoved my phone in my pocket when I heard my two friends’ voices, telling me I needed to hurry and hurry I did. I grabbed the sandwich Robin handed me and thanked her with all my heart, telling her I’d make the food tonight but she told me she’d rather not die of food poisoning at a young age.

 “Come on, I can make some things! We’ll order in, then?” I said, leaning on the counter with a grin as I took a bite of the food.

“Careful, Nami has invited her best friend tonight. He’s constantly famished, and eats a large amount of food so I’ll take you up on that offer another day. Now off you go, Nami’s waiting in her car.”

 Giving her a thumbs up I leaned off the counter and pondered, “So Nami’s cooking tonight? I see why she’s stressed out now. Anyone else coming by?” I asked quickly. Robin chuckled elegantly, her back leaning against the counter, in front of me, with her arms crossed over her chest. “He might bring one of his friends, but it all depends on his schedule. Nothing definitive yes. Now off you go!” She shooed me, smiling. Most of her classes were in the evening, and yet she woke up that early every day.

 It was also fascinating how, even when in her pajamas she looked so dignified.

 Without losing any more time, I waved her goodbye and rushed down all the flight of stairs to jump into Nami’s car. “Good morning-“ I closed my mouth when she gestured for me to shut up, pointing at her ear and at the board. Looking at the screen, she was on a call with someone but started the car without another word. I could only hear her replies, but tried not to eavesdrop. To stop myself from falling asleep, I took my phone once more and saw a message from HandSurgeon.

 I hated how it sent excitement coursing through my body. Was I remembering the thrill of last night or was I that interested in talking to him? I did not ponder the question longer and opened the app.

 HandSurgeon: Good morning Edelweiss. Are you feeling good? Physically.

HandSurgeon: We’ve barely done anything. But don’t worry, you’ll blame me later when we’ll have more fun.

Edelweiss: I’m great, a bit sore but that’s on me.

Edelweiss: don’t threaten me with a good time 😩, you can’t start the horny talk this early in the morning. How do you expect me to focus during my classes?

HandSurgeon: Haha, I’ll stop. Do you have time to talk?

Edelweiss: ominous much? But yes, I do have time to talk. Something on your mind?

 A knot formed in my stomach, I started to worry he’d say we couldn’t keep doing this. Would it be that bad? We’d known each other for so little time, it’s not like I couldn’t find someone else to fuck.

 I huffed at my own thought, I could find someone else but did they have HandSurgeon’s charisma? Unfortunately, no, I was bound to be horny for a strong doctor that I did not even know the face of.

 HandSurgeon: I got a bit too excited last night, I forgot to mention the most important info.

HandSurgeon: Those being: we can stop whenever you’d like. We can try whatever you feel comfortable trying. If you said you were ready to do something, but in the end feel like you can’t do it: tell me. You can change your mind, it works the other way around, too. You can say you want to try something even though you were against it at first.

HandSurgeon: I won’t always be up to… play but I will be willing to help you if you ask nicely. And if I’m awake.

HandSurgeon: Finally, always call me sir, during our sessions.

 I hid the relief I fell in real life, when I read all his messages. I did not want Nami to ask me what was wrong, nor who I was texting, but it was hard to hide the satisfied smile on my lips. Pursing my lips, I thought of what to answer without looking too desperate.

 Even with the thought put into it, I read my message over a few times and desperation dripped out of it.

 Edelweiss: you scared me, I thought you were going to just disappear or something. I’m good with all of this. If I can add one, be honest with me? Like, uh…

Edelweiss: If I’m being too pushy, but you’re busy, tell me, I’ll calm down haha.

Edelweiss: So… I agree to the terms, sir.

 I saw him type, then stop. Then type again, before stopping again. Had I said something bad? I was going to put my phone away when he replied.

 HandSurgeon: Good girl.

HandSurgeon: Now, I won’t be able to play tonight, but I’ll be free to text if you’d like.

HandSurgeon: It’ll give you time to rest, that way we’ll fuck you good once you’re feeling better.

 I choked on my saliva. Why was he this casual saying things like this?

 Edelweiss: I-

Edelweiss: I said don’t get me horny, the audacity you have to be that good with your words.

Edelweiss: I’ll be busy tonight too, but I’ll text you if it gets a bit boring.

Edelweiss: Also, are you not like… cutting people open or something? Why would you be awake this early with how late you went to sleep?

HandSurgeon: It’s cute how easy it is to get you flustered. Very interesting too. But I’ll stop for now.

HandSurgeon: Since you’re curious, I’m in bed. I have to meet with my intern in an hour, he’s very eager to learn.

HandSurgeon: Just like you, but maybe I find one more satisfying than the other 😉

 Staring at the screen, I hesitated and felt my cheeks heat up. I wanted to be horny and ask him for a picture, or be funny and ask him for a picture. Both could work together, but should I flirt or ask in the most stupid way possible? I was curious if he’d be willing to send anything, I’m sure it’d make my day if he did send me a picture but I did not want him to force him either. You can’t force a dom to do shit, idiot, my common sense told me.

 Edelweiss: send pic or fake.

HandSurgeon: Of my intern?

 Good fucking lord, I’m an idiot. I typed back quickly, trying to fix my stupidity.

 Edelweiss: of you in bed.

Edelweiss: maybe I’m asking for a nude? 🤔

HandSurgeon: Are you, now? What sparked that need? Do tell me. I’ll consider.

Edelweiss: I’m curious, and I wonder if you sleep dressed or not 😳

 Hit and run. That’s all I could call what I had done. I dropped that message then locked my screen and stared straight ahead, regretting sending it. I couldn’t delete it since he had probably seen in, considering we were both online at the same time. We were both staring at the conversation, craving for more, awaiting the other’s reply to weight our own answer in return.

 Covering my mouth with my hand, I rested my elbow on the small space by the window and felt my heart beat faster. I shouldn’t feel like that, I had literally fucked myself to his guidance hours ago. And yet, there was this stressed from asking him nudes. I mean, I hadn’t asked a dick pic per say… If he slept in pajamas it clearly wouldn’t be a nude, so…

 My phone vibrated in my hand, I looked down so quickly my head slipped off my hand and hit the window with a thud. “Are you good? You look nervous, do you have a final today or…” I heard Nami ask. She threw me a side glance but kept her gaze focused on the road.

 I was so focused on my own conversation; I had not realized she was done with her call. Had she been watching all of my reaction since then? No… no, probably not.

“I’m good, just need a bit of sugar.” I paused and continued casually, “Robin told me Luffy’s inviting someone tonight? Are you cooking or are you planning on ordering? They better pay their own shit, if we order in.” I grumbled, hoping to make her drop the subject.

 I needed to stay focus on what she was saying but my brain was drifting to the pending message on Discord. Fortunately, my distraction worked and she replied, “If he’s coming, I’ll make him pay the entire orders.” She scoffed as she pulled up into the parking, her eyes still focused in front of her. “He owes me, and since it’s last minute, I’ll use that against him to not pay my food.” She added. I laughed at her logic, was it really last minute if she knew he was coming since this morning? Shaking my head, I unlocked my phone and opened the text.

 HandSurgeon: [sent an attachment]

 While I masked my reaction, my eyes sure widened for the span of a second. On that very screen was a picture of the doctor, or more precisely, his crotch covered with just a thin blanket covering it. I could see the shape of his cock, and it made it more sinful than a full dick pic. The v shape of his lower stomach, along with the happy trail, made the whole thing hotter than it was supposed to be. Is this for fucking real? Thinking for a second it might be a catfish, I finally looked at the rest of the pic and saw a badly torn piece of paper with the word ‘Edelweiss’ scribbled badly on it.

 “Damn, who’s is this? Girl, you tapping that?” I quickly turned my phone face down and looked at Nami with what probably looked like guilt. “What? No. I’m on Twitter. I don’t have time to literally fuck around, too busy.” I stated, putting my hand on the door handle as I took hold of my bag.

 She was about to say something else, but we spoke at the same time and she let me talk. “What time do you finish? I’ll be done around 5 pm if you’re still there.” I stepped outside the car and slammed it shut, waiting for my ginger friend to join me.

“Around that time too, we’ll head right back home after. I think Luffy and his annoying friend will already be there. I’ll sent you the menu, so that you can pick from it.” She then hurried off when she saw one of her classmates waving her over.

 I let out a sigh and looked back at my phone, typing back while marching towards my class.

 Edelweiss: Are you kidding me? Dude…

HandSurgeon: I’d prefer you call me doc than dude. Although sir is the most appealing… But what’s wrong?

Edelweiss: You’re telling me, someone that hot is on weird websites when I’m sure anyone would want to fuck you. No offense, but you’re probably very hot, so why are you like… domming online? Instead of your own pretty little sub in real life? Not that I’m complaining! I like it.

HandSurgeon: Schedule is shit. And I’ve been told I’m bitter. But I’m glad you’re enjoying it, I’ll get dressed now. You focus on your class.

Edelweiss: Oh I am definitely enjoying it, a lot.

Edelweiss: by the way, I came to a realization this morning…

 Then we sent a message at the same time, I laughed nervously.

 HandSurgeon: So you think of me when you sleep? Very cute.

Edelweiss: my brain was slow last night, but like. Did you sext me while in your office?

Edelweiss: maybe I did think of you in my sleep, but I don’t think we need to talk about that, my question is definitely more important.

 I almost tripped over nothing, from looking at my phone instead of the path but I managed to make my way to class without a hitch. Throwing my bag over the desk, I sat down and waited for my professor. Checking Discord once more,

 HandSurgeon: I did. It’ll happen a lot too.

Edelweiss: damn that means no sexy live for you

 I replied without thinking. The loudest sigh escaped my lips, what even did I mean by that? Was I really considering giving him a show? What was I expecting from telling him that? I mean sure, if time goes on and I get more comfortable it could be fun…

 HandSurgeon: If that day comes, I’ll be sure to get my earphones. I’m sure you’d actually enjoy the thrill of showing yourself off. Knowing full well I’m watching, maybe with a hand in my pants, ordering you around. There will be a “sexy live”, if you’re comfortable enough… The fact that I’m in my office only adds to the charm. Wouldn’t you say?

 I blinked a few times, my thumbs hovering over the keyboard. I typed something then deleted it. I paused and typed again, before deleting it once more. Was he wrong? It was very exciting, just thinking about it. Even more so knowing he was willing to be in that situation, at his desk, looking at me getting off under his command. But also, even more knowing he’d be at his work place, where anyone could walk in on him being in such an embarrassing situation.

 HandSurgeon: It looks like you’re speechless. But do answer me, would you get off on knowing someone could walk in? Knowing we could get caught, knowing they could see you fucking yourself on screen just for me. Just to please me. They wouldn’t know it’s you, but you’d know. My good girl fucking herself, showing off her perfectly fuckable body just for me.

 I let my head fall back against the seat and took a deep breath. I felt suddenly self-conscious, even though I knew no one knew what was going on, on my screen. And yet, I had to look around to make sure before typing with a lot of hesitance. He hit the spot, I hated how right he was. But I replied in all honesty.

 Edelweiss: …

Edelweiss: yes…

Edelweiss: I’d like that…. sir…

Edelweiss: I need to focus on my class, but now I don’t know if I’ll be able since you just went off and made me very much distracted now.

HandSurgeon: My hand slipped.

Edelweiss: the  a u d a c i t y, then do tell me where it’ll slip next time 😉

Edelweiss: ok, no. that was bad. I’m trying, I’m not as good as you okay?

HandSurgeon: I think it’s a conversation best kept for late hours, wouldn’t you say?

HandSurgeon: I have to go. Focus on your class, or think of where you’d like my hands to go. The choice is yours, Edelweiss.

HandSurgeon: [send an attachment]

 There it was, another picture of him. This time it was his gloved hand gripping the fabric around his thigh tightly, the sleeve of his long shirt was slightly risen. I could catch a glimpse of the hair on his arm but focused on the length of his slender fingers. Of the way his fingertips were digging in his pants, of the lines his muscles drew on the back of his hand and maybe of, once again, the fact that he was sitting at his desk. Instead of replying, I took it in and locked my screen to try and focus on the class.

 I never thought I’d have a medical kink, but my thought would sometimes drift off, imagining him in his full surgeon outfit. Sitting on his chair, legs spread open while looking at me with a smirk. What it’d look like, I do not know, but I could only imagine the sultry gaze he could give me while in that position. He’d pat his thigh for me to come over and let me ride it- Shaking the thoughts away, I told myself to focus, and tried my best to keep up to that promise.

 The rest of the day, I kept my hands off my phone the best I could. I wanted to keep texting HandSurgeon and have some fun, tease him the way he was teasing me but I did not know how to push his buttons. Suddenly I realized I had never asked what were his kinks. By default, being in control must have been one of them, but I was curious as of what else he enjoyed. I made a mental note to ask him next time we talked, maybe tonight, maybe tomorrow, it all depended on tonight’s fun.

 Right, tonight… I don’t even know who’s the guy that’s coming over. Nami said that Luffy’s friend was annoying but maybe she was a bit biased since she was easily frustrated, which was ironic considering her best friend was the most tiring person ever. At some point during the day, she sent me a text with the name of the restaurant we were ordering at and told me to pick whatever I wanted.

 Seeing the prices, I had to make sure she had sent me the right restaurant and sent her a text asking if it was alright. Her reply was, “I told you he owed me, he said to choose whatever restaurant I wanted. And I did. He has the money, might as well use it.”

 I winced at her words and sent her my choice with a lot of reticence, adding, “If I get yelled that for picking something, even though I don’t know the guy, you’ll pay for my food.” She was quick to reply and told me it’ll be okay. “The dude might bitch and moan about it but he’ll eventually accept it” were her words. I don’t really know if it had helped or worsened my anxiety but I just let her do her thing and went on with the rest of my day without a hitch.

 I was able to focus on my classes and assignments after a while, when my brain finally decided to shove the whole HandSurgeon conversation in the back of my head.

 The day came to an end right on time. I had done my fair share of thinking for the day and needed a break. Knowing a nice warm meal was waiting for me at my apartment only made things ten times better. I rushed out of my last class with haste, almost bumping into other people and dropping my phone but I caught it before anything dramatic could happen.

 When I stepped outside, I was met with a drizzle and had to walk faster to Nami’s car. I was lucky to see she was already there, waiting inside of it with music playing loudly. She was trying to fix her hair the best she could, and gave up when it looked half-decent. A startled gasp escaped her lips when I opened the car door and slipped inside, greeting her, out of breath.

 “You scared me!” She gasped, a hand on her chest.

“Is it my fault? You’re on edge, not me.” I huffed, throwing my bag in the back of the car, making the ginger groan when she received a few droplets on her clothes. Apologizing, I buckled my seatbelt and we drove back home in a good mood. Food always lifted spirits, even more so after a draining day. On our way home, Nami started renting on how I will have to keep Luffy’s friend away from her because she couldn’t handle his attitude.

 I did not dare ask her what happened but listened carefully. She did not give me any useful information about him, only telling me he was “arrogant, annoying, he’s bitchy and way too cocky because of his job.” I winced and was expecting the worst, probably a business man that was too proud of making money or a politician. No, no… Luffy would never befriend people like that, right?

 All kind of ideas simmered in my head until we reached our apartment. I don’t know why, but I was going to knock. I quickly caught myself and unlocked the door, hanging my coat in the entrance as I took off my shoes. “Robin? Have they arrived yet-“ I was cut off when the excited black-haired man came rushing in and wrapped his arms around both Nami and I. She laughed and hugged him back, while I pushed him away, smiling softly. “Hello Luffy, let me get changed first? I smell like a wet dog.” I scoffed.

 He agreed and pulled Nami to the side, bringing her to the living room. I did not look their way and instead went back to my room to get changed. Maybe I could catch him before he went to his evening activity? I kind of wanted to have a bit of fun before going back to eat… But then again, did I have time? Humming pensively, I locked my door and stripped naked then pulled out my phone.

 Edelweiss: Good evening, can I suggest something? I want to make my evening more fun… maybe have something to look forward to this evening…

 I waited a moment, sitting on my desk chair completely naked. It was frisky and I felt well… naked. Was it too bold? Should I just delete the message and get dressed? I did not have time to ponder longer that the little dot next to his name turned green. He had answered.

 HandSurgeon: What do you suggest? I’m all ears.

Edelweiss: let’s say… I wanted to keep something inside me the entire evening… like an egg, you know those vibrating egg but like, not turned on because that’d be too much.

Edelweiss: here, this:

Edelweiss: [sent an attachment]

 I made sure we could see my lower body, the hand holding the toy was right above my thighs and I angled it so he could see most of it. When I sent the picture, I felt the pressure in my stomach grow, maybe he’d refuse and I was getting excited over nothing.

 HandSurgeon: I won’t be able to guide you, gorgeous.

HandSurgeon: But… I think it’s a great idea. Although, I need to be sure you’re not too sore to have some fun tonight.

Edelweiss: I’m good, I’m great. Don’t worry, I can definitely handle this. I mean, if you want to, sir.

HandSurgeon: The eagerness ever so present, you’re being very good asking for it. I would hate to punish you.

HandSurgeon: Let’s do it, if you think you can’t take it anymore send me a message and take it out.

HandSurgeon: But I’m sure a good girl like you could take it entire night, wouldn’t you agree?

 My answer was to send him a picture of the toy inside me, my free hand gripping my thigh while spreading them wider.

 Edelweiss: [sent an attachment]

HandSurgeon: Fuck. A warning next time. I’m not against more pictures, but let me remind you I’m not alone tonight.

HandSurgeon: Or is it what you’re looking for? You want to show off to me, but also to them? The odds of the people here looking at my phone are low, but they’re not null. That’s what gets you off.

 I was going to reply but he sent another message that sent something coursing straight between my legs. The throb I managed to numb after this morning’s talk came back without much efforts needed.

 HandSurgeon: Maybe to calm that eagerness, we should turn it on? Have you dripping wet for tonight? Would that help with how needy you’re feeling right now? You’d be surrounded by, let’s say your friends. But your thoughts would be nowhere near that, no.

HandSurgeon: You’ll be thinking of me. Of what I’d do to you tonight, looking forward to obey. To be on your knees, in your bed, expectant in front of your screen. Like a desperate girl, pleading for some relief.

 My hand slipped on my desk and grabbed the little remote, pressing it to turn the toy on. I let out a shaky breath at the sensation, spread my legs wider to try to press it deeper but finding my attempt fruitless.

 HandSurgeon: Get dressed, and go join your friends. I’ll be available to talk in a few.

HandSurgeon: But don’t get too greedy. If you think you’re getting close, you turn it off. I want you begging for an orgasm tonight. Are we good?

Edelweiss: Yes sir. More than good.

Edelweiss: Maybe… maybe I could call you, no video, to do it…

 He’ll ask for me to be precise. But I felt like my pride would take a hit if I wrote it down, did I want to beg? I gave it a thought while getting dressed in a fresh pair of clothes. Usually I wouldn’t want to beg, but it felt different here. Maybe I could use this moment to find out more about him, his tastes… his kink.

 HandSurgeon: “It”?

Edelweiss: Beg. You want me to beg, I am suggesting to do it on a call. That’s what you want right? You get off on being in a position of power but what else do you like?

HandSurgeon: I’ll have you begging, no matter what. That’s the fun, dear.

HandSurgeon: Now you’re curious about what I like? We’ll talk about it after tonight’s session, right now I have to go. Have fun, be good.

 I thought it was going to be child’s play. The vibrations weren’t that strong, and it’s not like there was going to be a lot of things that’d turn me on during a friend gathering. Right? Right. It’s what I thought until I joined everyone in the living room and there stood a definition of handsome. I don’t know what Nami said about him but I’m sure she never mentioned how hot he was.

Nami, Luffy and Robin were sitting on the ground by the low table. They were taking the boxes of food from the bags and giving them to everyone. What caught my eyes was the man sitting in the couch, almost lazily. He was looking at the three people with something close to boredom, his arms spread on the back of the couch.

 Suddenly I regret trying to make my evening more fun… Or did I? I’d have to see how the evening go to make an opinion on being in the company of such a beautiful man when I had my own hardship going.

[Part 3]