#we’ve waited over twenty years to play the games looking like this end-to-end

[scribe-of-ariel]

People on the internet: I hate the look of the soul reaver remasters, they’re a cartoon!

The original games:

Wow, look at those dark, gritty visuals. Yep, definitely not a cartoon! I’d never play an entire game that looks like that shitty remaster /sarc 😂🤣

[trashmouth-richie]

𝚕𝚎𝚝’𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚜𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚎

older! college coach! steve x fem! reader

summary: your mysterious coach was always hot headed and pushed you harder than the other girls, after losing an important game, you both find ways to release your frustrations.

triggers: 18+ ; steve is thirty and reader is early twenties and plays basketball in college. smut, light use of pet names, no y/n, steve is a dick to reader and has a huge one, biting, hickies, p in v no condom. Very slight mention of blood, indication of simp behavior at the end.

  “Hustle girls!”

  “Box her out!”

  “Are you fucking kidding me 22?” 

  His workout tank was ringed dark around the hem of the neck, glistening drops of sweat travel from the column of his neck down into the gray cotton blend fabric. 

  He was pissed. When wasn’t he?

  A rogue strand of hair escapes from the style he had down to a science, red blotches flashed across his cheeks and neck, veins poked out from his vacation tanned skin. 

  Last night's game ended horribly. And today you were all paying the price for it. 

  -

With only 10 seconds left on the clock in the 4th quarter, the play he had drawn up on the marker board was the exact same one you had been practicing since your first year at college. Only this time you were getting the ball after Mel faked to Blair, with just enough time to shoot that beautiful three point shot you had been perfecting since high school. 

   The squeak from the black expo marker under his thick fingers wrote out his code: Hawkins for the play that was drilled into your brain by coach for the last year. 

  “Run it just how we’ve been practicing, I’m telling you it’ll work.” 

  Mel’s fake out didn’t work and you had gotten the ball late. Each dribble from the floorboards into your sweaty palm felt like a heartbeat. The girl guarding you swatted at the ball, missing just barely as she attempted to make a steal, trying to force you to foul her when she had the ball to waste more time and grant you your fourth foul, ending your playing time. 

  A quick move around her and a cross to your left hand had her stumbling over her ankles like Bambi, and you cut to the three point line, lined up your Nike’s to the hoop like your dad had taught you, and arched the ball into the air. 

  The buzzer was blaring when the orange ball left your finger tips, tongue poking out and your ponytail fluttering behind you. the gymnasium lights were hospital white, piercing your eyes and making you see dots as you landed on your feet, your competitor reaching for the ball at the last second. 

  Anticipation filled your lungs as the ball circled around and around the rim. The girls and coach all rose from the bench and waited with hands on their heads or holding hands watching the ball spin.

  And with a sick twist, it fell out. Landing to the floor with a silent thud as the bleachers erupted into a nascar loud roar. 

  Bulldogs: 60 Pirates: 58 

  He was furious. 

  Clipboards snapped on his khaki thighs as you all sat on the wooden benches of the sweaty walled locker room. He didn’t yell, he didn’t speak to anyone other than glaring into the ceiling. 

  “Pack your shit, bus leaves in five.” 

  No times for showering or debriefing, you and your teammates were hustled to the bus as he snapped his fingers, let’s go let’s go let’s go! 

  Refusing to let the bus driver stop to get water or any sort of snacks on the way home. “They don’t deserve it.” He preened, looking at your sad faces with a disapproval that cut so deep it had some of the girls in tears.

   His mossy green eyes stopped on yours and the disappointment brewed to hatred, his eyes burning emerald, he blew air through his nose and clenched his knuckles, “none of them.” 

  Mel had thrown up twice during Coach’s infamous Hellfire Sprints. Her and her boyfriend Trevor, who was practically your 5th suitemate, had stayed up until dawn doing pulls from a tequila bottle and hitting his dab pen. 

  You hadn’t slept either. 

  Laying on top of your comforter with wet hair and lotion slicked skin, racking your brain with how the shot felt a tiny bit off from your fingers, how coach’s eyes looked like a fucking demon’s when he glared at you on the bus. 

  How the Sunday morning practice, which was usually laid back and games of pig and watching game tape, was going to be hell on earth. 

  “22 if I have to tell you one more time to move your ass I’m cutting you from this team do you hear me?” 

  You rolled your eyes as you pushed yourself faster to touch the black line, beating out the other girls by a full few seconds. 

  After the sixth set of sprints he had you all go to the workout room and max out on squats. Your legs shook and nearly buckled under the heavy weights. And all he did was stand behind you and tell you how pathetic you looked, he shook his head and scoffed. 

  “We’re gonna stay here all day til you rack this up, don’t care if you fall on your ass— you’ll do it.” 

  His breath fanning your ear drove you mad. Spearmint gum and that rich boy cologne he always wore stung your nose as you grunted in defiance. 

  Through bared teeth and burning lungs you extend your legs to stand. 

  You wanted to kick him in the dick, make him shut the fuck up for once, but you bit your tongue. Driving the bar up and slamming it loud against the rack  Looking back at him with a glare in your eyes, you wouldn’t let a single tear wet your eyes, never giving him the satisfaction. 

  He looked you up and down quickly, but his eyes felt like hot pokers dragging against your skin. Before he crossed over to another one of your teammates to add more weight to their bar, he dipped his head, and muttered just above a whisper, “Thatta girl.” 

  -

  You didn’t know much about him but what you did know was that he kept to himself. 

  Coach Harrington was only a few years older than you, he had a small mustache that he more than likely grew to make himself look a little older than he was. 

  From what your suitemates had found out by spending hours scouring online archives from his hometown local newspaper to his social media footprint that didn’t exist— and even going as far to stalking his ex girlfriends Instagram— he had played college ball at Perdue for two years before blowing out his knee and ending a full ride scholarship and any rumored possibility of making it to the NBA. 

  From locker room gossip, you had learned that he drove a black Jeep Wagoneer, and lived in one of the newer apartments downtown. 

  The university had paid double what they had for the last coach's salary to get Harrington through the doors. The athletic director, Mr. Hopper, had picked him to coach because he was one of the best. But all he was to you was a fucking asshole. 

  The other girls had ooed and awed over him, the other teams coaches flirted with him before the games, trying to get his number and find out more about the brooding coiffed hair hottie. And maybe you would feel different about him if he wasn’t such a raging prick. 

  But he wouldn’t budge. 

  He didn’t get personal with anyone on the team, barely even talked to his assistant Dustin. Refusing to call anyone by anything other than their jersey number or their last name. 

  Practice lasted for three hours. And by the end of it his voice was hoarse and gruff. Having screamed practically during the entire time. 

  It wasn’t anything new. He was always high strung and losing his shit when it came to the girls, but mostly you bore the brunt of his anger. 

  He always used you as an example on what not to do. 

  “You’re doing it wrong 22,” he’d bellow, his voice echoing loud across the empty gym, his arms crossed tight across his chest, muscles popping under the strain of his tight gray shirt, “drive to the left then cut right, this isn’t fucking hard… do it again.” 

  You did as you were told, fighting through anger that seeped through your skin and riddled your face with shaking muscles of anger, a twitch to your eye.

  You were pissed and had had enough. Not only were you the youngest captain your school had ever seen, you were averaging triple doubles nearly every game. 

  Showing up to practice early to shoot free throws and leaving late to make sure all the equipment was put away. Spending weekends in the gym running drills or pushing weights instead of at the nearest rager popping pills and snorting coke like everyone else your age. 

  You put in the work and it showed, but he couldn’t see it. 

  It was equally frustrating and heartbreaking.

  When practice was finally through and all of the girls had either thrown up, left mid practice to go to the nurse or screamed that they were quitting, the locker room was an endless groan. Muscles were slicked over with the menthol burn of icy hot, and sore shoulders wrapped with bags of ice. Tape was torn from ankles and jammed fingers wadded up and tossed into a nearby waste bin. Sniffles were heard from some players and you stood in a sports bra and shorts when Coach Harrington entered the locker room. 

  “Don’t get too comfortable, we’ll be back here in 3 hours to run more Hellfire Sprints.”

  The girls groaned and slammed lockers, bitching under the breath. 

  “Hey!” Coach Harrington shouted, a thin vein bulging in his forehead, matching the ones in his arms, as he stood with his hands on his hips, the retro fit of his athletic pants swishing under his thick hands. “You want someone to bitch to? You can thank your captain.” 

  The room falls silent as all eyes land on you. And your breath hitches in your throat, cheeks burning with embarrassment. 

  “Me?” You question, “what the hell did I do?” 

  “The question you should be asking yourself is what you didn’t do. How did you sleep last night knowing you blew that game for your teammates?” 

  A gasp escapes from your lips and you stare at your Air Forces to hide your pained expression. 

  “Now, the rest of you get recharged, be back here at 5 o’clock, I don’t want any excuses.” As the room starts to file out, through the heavy wood door,  Coach Harrington still stands in the middle of the room,  eyes burning holes  into your skull, “22 meet me in my office in 10, we need to discuss your position on this team.” He turned on his heel and headed through the doors, pushing them open with a straight arm and his pants swishing down the hallway, 

  You wait til everyone has gone, Mel giving you a slap on the shoulder, her skin unusually pale on her olive complexion under her charcoal braids, “good luck.” 

  Lifting your chin you nod and wave, throwing an oversized crew neck over your head and pushing your arms through the holes. Gym bag strewn over your shoulder and you pull your socks up a bit before making the long trek down to Coach Harrington’s office. 

  Contemplating what you would do when you walked through his office and he kicked you off the team, your long basketball career over because your coach couldn’t fucking stand you. 

  Never in all your life had you had a coach like him. He pushed you to the limits and started to make you despise the sport altogether. 

  And since you were about to be booted off the team, you didn’t have anything to lose. 

  The gold plate reading: Coach S. Harrington- Women’s Basketball on the large mahogany door nestled between the cream cinder block walls almost made your stomach lurch. He never asked anyone to come to his office, not even when Zoey got pregnant last semester and had to quit. 

  Nerves shook your fist as you knocked on his door, your other hand fumbling your car keys around the silver ring. 

  “Yeah.” He barked curtly, anything but friendly. 

  Turning the enormous brass knob, you keep your eyes to the floor when you step into his office. For being down an abandoned hallway, it was almost cozy. The walls were painted fire engine red to match your school's colors. His college degree was framed and hanging on one wall, along with signed pictures of Michael Jordan that you knew cost more than your car. 

The oak desk was neat with a MacBook and cup of pens and pencils. A markerboard hung the expanse of one wall covered in scribbled plays and code names. 

  It smelled like musky expensive leather and cologne and neatly stacked paper  Pictures from his glory days were on the shelf behind him, and he cleared his throat when you stared at him flying through the air towards a hoop. 

  His hair was messy, tufts of brown sticking up, like his fingers had been raking through it so many times out of frustration that the flexible gel wasn’t holding anymore. 

  He peers at his screen without making eye contact with you, fingers tapping noisily on the keys. 

“Do you hate basketball?” 

  His question has your head spinning.  And when you don’t answer right away he asks again. 

  “N-no,” you stutter, voice shaky and on the verge of screaming at his stupid question. 

  “Sure about that?” He seethes, still not looking up from his laptop as he clicks away furiously on the keyboard, “The way you played last night could have fooled me.” 

  Moon shapes indent your palm as you try to keep it together without ripping his head off like a praying mantis “It was a mistake.” 

  “We don’t make elementary mistakes,” he says slamming his laptop closed and peering over his desk at you through his thick eyebrows, “a fucking third grader could have ran that play better than you did.” 

  Your throat is dry and chalky as you try to stick up for yourself, being accustomed to keeping rage boiled hot in your belly, “I-I’m..” 

His torment continues, pointing around the room at the awards from the last few years, “We’re a nationally ranked team, and your performance last night was embarrassing, and pathetic!”

  A single tear threatens to slip down your cheek, and he notices the watery look in your eye, and licks his lip, but he keeps going. 

  “I expected more out of you, 22– you let your team down last night, and most importantly, me.”

  You burst before the dam does, annoyed and sick of his threats, sick of his constant nitpicking of every move yoj make, “That’s not anything new.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You treat me like I’m a dog! It’s almost like you want me to quit, you don’t bitch at any of the other girls like you do to me, and I’m tired of it!” 

  “Watch your mouth.” He points, eyes squinted and nostrils flared.

  “No! I work my ass off for you, come in early and stay late. My game has improved and I’m top of the charts for scoring and rebounds, yet you fucking hound me and are constantly cutting me down.” 

  He doesn’t say anything so you keep going. 

  “Last night could have ended with us winning and you wouldn’t give a flying fuck, you’d still make us run your dumbass drills, you’d still wake up and find something wrong with what I do— stop taking your failed career out on me!” 

  he slams his fist into his desk and stands up quickly, the picture frames wiggle as his chair hits the shelf. He crosses the small office in one long legged step coming to stand before you as your back hits against the heavy door,  he points a thick finger into your face. 

  You struck the last fragile nerve he had like a guitar player busting a string playing a solo. Any reserve he had left was gone, his eyes clouded over into hue deeper than a dark forest. 

  His hot breath fans your cheek, spearmint intensely strong with each bite of his words.

  “Don’t you ever talk to me about my personal life again, you got that? You,” he surges pointing into your shoulder, “are supposed to be a leader for this team, and right now you’re acting like a spoiled fucking brat not getting her way.” 

  The tear you were holding back spills over over your lashes and, his eyes break from yours to watch its southward path on from your cheek to your chin. A low grown rumbles in his throat.

  “I’m not a brat!” you scream at him, wiping your cheek hastily,  “you’re crazy, and we all hate you!” 

  His eyes stay moody and dark as he peers into your face down the slope of his nose, “really?” he says no louder than a whisper, “you hate me huh?”

  A thick hand wraps around your ponytail, and his body crowds yours into the door, back flat as it would go despite your curves. 

  Your breathing is erratic, bubbled into your throat with anxiety like you might throw up. His face is so close to yours you can see the definition of each of his eyelashes, and tiny flecks of gold in his eyes. 

  He’s staring at you with pure hatred, like he’d kill you if ever given the chance, and you’re almost embarrassed by the way your pussy clenches.

  “Say it again,” he murmurs, mouth barely moving and barely an inch from your own, his eyes only leave yours when your mouth opens to speak. 

  “I fucking hate you, Coach Harring—”

  His mouth slams into yours with such force your teeth clack together and the taste of blood trickles on your tongue. Your back is pushed flush against the door, likely to bruise from the force alone. 

  His full weight is pressed against you, his taut body firm and rocked with muscles. He locks your hips in place with alarge hand, fingers gripping your skin beneath your sweater.

  Firm and taking what he wants without a second thought, his lips are intoxicating. The roughness of his mustache tickles your lip in an itching way, more than likely leaving a burn behind in his feverish take on your mouth. 

  His hair is soft in your grip, and you nearly roll your eyes thinking about his hair care routine, but you find yourself rolling your eyes in a different way when you feel his cock bulging through his pants.

  Thick and heavy against your thigh, if you had to take a guess it was probably as veiny as his forearms were. And you stifle a moan when it kicks up. 

  His teeth bite at your lip and you yelp in pain, a noise that only drives him further into you, his hand tightens around your ponytail and yanks your neck further back so your head hits the door. 

  His shirt is fisted into your hand and you pull him further into you, sliding your tongue against his—sharing the taste of your fresh blood and his spearmint spit. 

  You scratch at his scalp with your dull nails and he fights back a melty groan. 

  “Such a fucking brat.” He breathes, as his fingers work the hem of your crew neck up, his fingers feel like lightening strikes against your body, and you welcome the dulled pain with a moan, “Need’t be put in your place.” 

  You whine when your sweater hits the ground with a soft thud and the cool air of his office ices over your still sweat slicked skin. His lips suck deep bruises into your throat, and his fingers dip into the waistband of your shorts, shoving them down in a hurry. 

  Expert fingers find your clit and he smirks when you whine for more, “thought you hated me?”

  You pout when his fingers come to a halt, eyes flicking open to see his confidence boasting on his stupid perfect face.

  “But this pretty little pussy doesn’t, does she baby?” 

  “Coach,” you moan out for him, his title on your lips in a sloppy whine make him harder than he’s ever been. 

  His thick fingers dip into the silky warm folds of your pink pussy. The combined noises you make, echo loud in his office. “Fuck baby,” he groans, his fingers sucking up into your gummy walls, he pops them out licks the juicy wetness of your arousal from them. “So wet honey, all this for me?” 

  Your fingers pinch at his sweats and pull them down in a swift motion along with his boxer briefs. He’s hung more than you thought. Making any guy you had been with previous look like something in a funny museum.

   His abs are sculpted and dip into a hard cut v, leading to a small patch of trimmed hair, housing the longest, thickest dick you’ve ever come across. 

  And you were right it was veiny. 

  The pretty mushroom pinked head was presenting a pearl of pre cum, so pretty it could make an angel cry. When you try to lower yourself to wrap your lips around him, he stops you. 

  “Not today,” he groans, fisting his hearty length, your eyes going dumb watching him, brain numb and drunk on him already, “not enough time.” 

  He wraps your legs around his waist and hoists you up against the wall, your bare back stings against the rough cement wall, he’s grabby, his lips pressing heat into your neck, his moan tingling your skin. 

  With a quick shift of his hips, your tight pussy sheaths his thick cock. And you scream out. 

  “Shit, fuck honey..” he’s fighting to keep composure as you are practically lifeless against the wall. His thrusts are filled with purpose and want as your ass is slammed harder and harder into the wall, clapping along like a round of applause, ankles crossed around his lower back at your Nike socks and the laces of your air forces bouncing in tandem. 

  He’s sweaty and grunting, with each pull from his cock brings more deep and pretty noises from you and he sucks into your shoulder again, knowing damn well his mark will last for weeks. One you’d have to explain to your friends and your teammates, and your boyfriend. 

  He didn’t know if you had a boyfriend and frankly he didn’t give a fuck, you were his for the time being and he would do as he pleased. 

  He was fucking you stupid and you were letting him, holding his neck in a lazy grip as he hammered into you, and when you tightened around him, he knew you were close, “look at me,” he begs of you, “you’re gonna come for me, yeah?” 

  “Yes,” you choke out, barely registering what he’s saying from the tight coiled pleasure of your orgasm ready to fire away. 

  His cock drags slow as your eyes connect, yours lazily spilling over with fresh tears, “who’s makin’ you feel this good, 22? Huh?” 

  “Y-you Coach!” you whine, nearly ready to crumble under his thick fingers when he rubs your sensitive clit. 

  “What was that baby girl?,” he croaked, holding back his release, “couldn’t hear you.” 

  “Oh fuck oh fuck mmm you, Coach Harrington! Fuck I’m coming!”

  Your orgasm breaks and it’s like a dam has busted, his dick is soaked by your arousal and he’s losing any bit of cockiness he had left when your face smooths and your lips blur a pretty round ‘o’  as you hum and your body tingles. 

  He follows not far behind you, muttering sentences that make no sense, drunk on your pussy as he paints your walls with his release. 

  You’ve never seen him look hotter, his forehead rests on your chest as you both catch your breath. For a split second he shows you a sly smirk, like he actually was enjoying himself.

  “you might just be my fav-”

  before he can finish, before he can pull out and offer you a towel, a loud knock scared everything in him stiff. Besides his cock that went instantly soft..  his blood ran cold.  

  His face stares at the door, and you stare at him, your grip on his shoulders tighten.

  “Steve?”  

*let me know your thoughts on this, should there be a part 2? I love hearing your comments ♥️

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Heartache: Final Part

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.5k

Warnings: canon angst and violence

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. Any and all comments on these are appreciated.

"Did you find anything interesting?" you ask as you close the bedroom door.

"They're all the same. 'Dearest Betsy...'"

"Who's Betsy?"

"I don't know. Girlfriend? Eleanor didn't mention a Betsy," Dean shakes his head.

"This one looks old. 'Dearest Betsy, third day of training camp. Roadwork improving. Working on my left jab. They say this kid Sugar Ray is gonna be tough.'," Sam reads.

"Sugar Ray? As in Robinson? Didn't he box in, like, the '40s? Is it signed the same?"

"Yeah. 'Love, me'."

"Check this one out. 'Dearest Betsy, on the road again. So hard to be away from you, honey. Will give the Red Sox hell and get back to you.'"

Every single letter starts and ends the same. Dearest Betsy and Love, me. The person who wrote these letters have to be the same person if they are all addressed to the same person and have the same style of writing in every single one. There are mentions of four different occupations and names in the letters, so Sam did research on all four guys.

To the normal eye, they are four completely different men, but Sam doesn't have a normal eye. He sees things under a microscope sometimes.

"I pulled up the names on those trophies and in the letters. Check it out. Brick Holmes--football player. Charlie Karnes--race-car driver. Davey Samuelson--baseball player. Kelly Duran--boxer. Four different guys, right?"

"Okay," Dean says slowly.

"Check this out." Sam pulls up photos of all four guys side by side so he can compare them. "Same dark eyes, same cheekbones, nose, and mouth."

"Wait, are you saying that these four guys who all look to be in their mid-twenties and go back seventy years could be the same guy? Wow. For a ninety-five-year-old, Brick Holmes could take a hit."

"So, if all these athletes are the same, how did he pull it off? He'd disappear then reappear with a whole new look. You're telling me that no one in seventy years thought to look at these guys and put two and two together?"

"We didn't when he was Brick Holmes," Sam shrugs.

"Okay, then how did he do it?"

"Cacao was Mayan, right?" Dean asks, looking through some of the papers scattered around him.

"Yeah."

"The Mayans were all about war and torture and conquest... and sports. It says, 'Their athletes were treated like kings.' The Mayan jocks made sacrifices to Cacao by killing a victim, pulling out his heart, and eating it. They believed the rituals gave them super-charged power over their opponents."

"And that's the how," you say and take a seat at the table.

"Yeah, but they didn't stay young forever. So, what? Maybe Brick just made some kind of deal with this Cacao?"

"Well, we've seen it before with people making deals with demons and gods. I mean, maybe he stayed young and strong so long as the sacrifices kept coming. Remember all that antique sports equipment he had? This guy could go back to the Mayan days."

"Wow. So, one of the greatest QBs to ever play the game was over nine hundred years old," Sam scoffs in disbelief.

"Well, that explains Brick, but what about the victims carrying his spare parts?" you ask.

"Maybe the spell went along for the ride and infected the people who got his organs. Remember how Paul Hayes said he had a health scare that changed his life? I mean, maybe the spell could compel him to keep carrying out the ritual."

"Sort of like getting bit by a werewolf," Dean says out loud. "I mean, once you're infected, you do what you have to do, especially if you like the results."

"Except for Arthur. Poor guy couldn't handle it, so he went nuts."

"At least Brick wasn't sleeping with his mother," Sam says and shows you what's on his laptop.

"Fighter Kelly Duran is congratulated on a second-round knockout by wife Betsy."

You have to talk to Eleanor since she clearly lied to you about who she was. She is Betsy, and if she is Brick's wife, then how did he stay so young and she grew older? The next morning, you three head over to her house to have a proper chat. As soon as she sees you, she knows something is up, but she tries not to let it show.

"Hello, Eleanor," Sam smiles.

"Or would you rather us call you Betsy?" Dean blurts.

She immediately shuts the door on his face, and you step in.

"Eleanor, innocent people are dying, and they are going to continue to die until we stop it."

You give her three seconds before she opens the door again. She has no choice but to let you in because she wants this to end as well. You three take the seats you were in the day before, and she sits across from all three of you.

"Did you know about the murders over the past year?"

"No. I didn't. I swear. I thought when Brick died, it would be over."

"Help us. Betsy, this is not what you want Brick's legacy to be."

"His Mayan name was Inyo. He was a proud young athlete nearly a thousand years ago. He lived for sport and never wanted his days in the sun to end. So, he arranged a bargain with the god Cacao through a high priest. As long as the sacrifices continued, twice a year--once for the planting, once for harvest."

"When did you find out about this?"

"Not until I began to age and Brick--Kelly, as he was when I met him--did not. By that time, Brick himself had changed... inside. He wasn't just the warrior whose only reason for living was combat. We were deeply, deeply in love. So in love, I'm ashamed to say, that when I found out how my husband stayed young and strong, I chose to ignore it," she sighs sadly.

"You and Brick had to go underground from time to time to hide your secret, right?" you ask.

"Every ten years or so, he would, uh, re-emerge with a new look and a new name. Me, I was the wife, and I was the woman in hiding, and then, when I got into my forties, I became Brick's mother, Eleanor. I am so tired. You can't imagine the burden of it all. I think even Brick was through. He had lived centuries all alone, but I don't think he could bear the thought of life without me. That's why he drove off that bridge. You must think I'm a monster."

"Lesser people have done a lot worse, Betsy," you reassure her.

"Well, see, here's the deal," Dean says, being the bad guy for right now. "Now there are eight killers out there that we have to deal with, not just one."

"I don't think so."

"Why not?"

"Brick used to say the heart was key. That was the focus of the sacrifice."

"Are you saying that if we stop Brick's beating heart, then we could stop the whole thing?" Betsy nods shamelessly. "Do you know where the person who has the heart is?"

"She currently works at the Bunny Hole Strip Club. Wait here. You're going to need this."

Betsy gets up and leaves the room, only to return with a weapon that will kill Brick's heart. You're sure that when he died, his heart had to go to the woman who works at the strip club. All you have to do is kill her in the heart and this whole thing ends.

You left Zeus at the motel room, but you had no choice but to bring Joanna with you. You'd rather be anywhere else than here, but it's what you have to do to stop this. You'd offer to stay back at the motel with Joanna, but the brothers might need you and your magic. The logo for the strip club is two women dancing on strip poles, and you just sigh when you see this.

"This is just what a two-year-old needs to see," you say.

"We're pretty sure this is gonna work, right?" Sam asks, gripping the weapon.

"Well, as long as Eleanor knows what she's talking about."

"You think Brick thought maybe he'd burn to nothing when he crashed that car?"

"Yeah, but he didn't, which brings us here."

You shake off your nerves and head to the back only to find the door locked. On the door is the same logo, and you roll your eyes as you step up to the plate.

"This is a mother's worst nightmare," you say and unlock the door with your magic.

The area is dark since the place is closed during the day. You make your way through the locker room and ignore the skimpy outfits and the dirty underwear lying around. Shielding Joana's eyes, you make your way to the main area where the stage, tables, and bar is. The entire place is pitch black but as soon as you get to the stage, all the lights come on, and the silhouette of a woman can be seen behind the curtain.

"Eleanor sent you, right? I figured she'd probably break and give me up. This won't end well for her, of course. Not that it's gonna end well for you," she smiles. Sam takes out the knife that Eleanor gave to him, and the woman, Randa, laughs. "Oh, now, you don't think we're gonna let you do that, do you?"

"We?"

Just then, two guys attack Sam and Dean, and you use your magic to blast them away from you and Joanna to keep both of you safe. Paul, the health freak, heads for Sam while a new person takes on Dean. If they want to get to one brother, then they'll have to take out the other, and Paul understands this. He grabs Sam's head and smashes it against the table, knocking him out completely.

He turns to you, and your eyes flash bright blue to warn him you're not to be fucked with. Instead, he turns to the other man and Dean. Both of them tackle Dean, flipping him over and slamming him on the stage. They have super strength, so they are easily able to hold him down while Randa approaches him with a smirk on her face.

"Oh, you guys are stronger than you look," Dean groans as he tries to get away.

"Comes with the package. Plus, I work out a lot," Paul grins.

You look to the side and see Sam coming to, and without attracting attention from Randa, you stealthily rush over to Sam and heal his head. Once he is 100%, you hand Joanna off to him so you can focus on your husband.

"You can't imagine who I was before. This shy, awkward little thing from Georgia with a heart condition. Then I had the surgery." She places her heeled foot on Dean's chest, putting a bit of pressure. "I became fucking Xena, Warrior Princess." She gets on her knees and straddles your husband's lap, running her fingers down his face. "I couldn't dissect a frog in high school. But sacrificing to Cacao? Better than sex. So, if I go real slow and take my time and enjoy this, I can actually show you your own beating heart before you die."

Your eyes and your hands glow the same color blue, and you reach out for the two men holding your husband, watching as your magic swirls around their necks. With a flick of your wrists, their necks snap in two. Randa's head snaps to yours and then over to Sam who is holding Joanna for dear life.

The two men holding Dean fall to the ground, and Randa knows that if she doesn't do something soon, she will be dead.

"Hands off my husband," you growl.

Randa reaches down and presses her fingers hard into Dean's chest, putting enough pressure to break the skin. Dean cries out once, and you jump into action. You send three blasts of magic to Randa, one to get her attention, another to knock her off Dean, and the final one to blast her to the end of the stage.

You rush onto the stage, careful of your pregnant belly, and you swipe the knife that Sam had dropped when he was stabbed. Randa growls and decides to take care of you first whether you're pregnant or not, but you don't give her the chance. When she reaches out for you, you send an uppercut to her chin and plunge the knife into her chest, piercing her heart.

She gasps and staggers back, looking down at her wound which is ablaze with red flames. You rush over to Dean and place your hand over his wound, healing him of whatever damage she dealt to him. Randa moans as she continues to burn, a white light replacing the red flames. When it dies down, Randa collapses to the ground, dead.

Sam joins you and Dean by the stage, and you take Joanna back who has a look of worry across her face. She heard and saw her dad in pain, and you wish to God that she never saw that. The more she sees you and Dean in pain, the more she is going to grow up to be just like Sam and Dean when they had to endure the same from their father.

With Randa dead and all the recipients of Brick's organs, you let Eleanor know that she can now live out the rest of her life in peace with the memory of Brick. She was so grateful, but all you could think about was getting back on the road--hopefully to where Kevin is.

The recent events must have drained Joanna because she is sleeping soundly in her car seat while Zeus is resting in your lap.

"Wow. Back in business. Got the win. Admit it, it feels good, huh?" Dean grins and looks at both you and Sam. "You know, I was thinking about what Randa said about what it feels like to be a warrior. I get it, man, I do."

"Imagine having magic. I feel like a superhero," you chuckle.

"I know. I know you two do. I don't. Not anymore. Hell, maybe I never did."

"Come on, Sam, don't ruin our buzz, would you?" Dean sighs.

"Dean, listen, when this is over, when we close up shop on Kevin and the tablet, I'm done. I mean that."

"No, you don't."

"Come on, Sam," you sigh.

"The year that I took off, I had something I've never had. A normal life. I mean, I got to see what that felt like. I want that. I had that."

"I think that's just how you feel right now."

You have nothing left to say, because you don't know what to say to this kind of thing. You look to your left and see Amara sitting between you and Joanna. You don't want to say anything to her because that would only upset Dean further, so instead, you try to let your eyes do the talking.

"I know you're sad about Sam," she begins. "I know you want Sam to stay more than anything. If you want that to happen, then you need to give him a reason to stay. He looks at you and Dean and your kids, and all it does is remind him of what he doesn't have. You got lucky when you met Dean through hunting. Sam doesn't have that. I know it sucks, but you're not enough this time."

You keep your mouth shut and ponder on her words. What will it take to get Sam to stay with you and Dean? With his niece?

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[lumosinlove]

Vaincre

~

Part ii: August

~

For the hope of it all

~

The river was crowded, but the pier was their own.

Happy Birthday Harzy, was spelled out in big balloon letters, turning in the summer breeze, backwards and bumping.

Logan stood at the waterfront and looked at Leo’s—as it was mostly Leo’s—handiwork. Lobster rolls and soft-shell crab buffet, corn bread and iced tea. Chilled white and orange wines. Summer dresses fluttered and crossed each other as people talked, making new patterns, and Logan let himself settle into the laughter. He had a bad habit of taking peace and worrying it away. He didn’t want to do that today. He wanted to watch Finn enjoy himself, his team, his family. Logan had spent every one of Finn’s birthdays with their Harvard team, and then there had been that one, horribly absent year when Finn had been in Gryffindor and he hadn’t—not yet. He wanted to watch the way Leo put his long arms around his friends, in the same way his mother did, warm and strong. Logan wanted to watch without feeling that sharp tug of worry. He couldn’t have even said what he was worrying about. It was vague.

He’d done a lot of watching this summer. He loved it to the point of never wanting to do anything else. Finn and Leo were alike to each other in more ways than Logan would ever be. Whatever rapid-fire conversation they were in the middle of would often quickly leave Logan behind, but Logan didn’t care as long as he got them stumbling and laughing over each other to try and explain it to him—a book, a TV show, some sort of video game. He knew they liked telling him about it, and Logan loved watching them love things—including himself. Logan had never thought of himself as acting as a grounding point before. That had always been Finn or Leo. He always felt too wild in his own head, unsure, reserved. Vague. But Leo had said it to him this summer.

“When me and Finn lived together, we stayed up so late just talking,” Leo had said one early morning on the beach when they had left Finn sleeping. Logan wouldn’t be quick to forget the feeling of just being able to hold Leo’s hand for so long, in such an open space.

Leo had kissed the back of his palm too many times for Logan to think he’d be forgetting it, either.

“And you and I did the same thing, you know?” Leo continued. “On roadies.”

“Playing cards,” Logan smiled. “And our sundaes.”

Leo nodded, and his smile grew a little softer. He stared at his toes digging into the sand. “And I knew how connected you two were. Well, I guess not how connected, but I knew you two were better friends than anyone on the team, even Sirius and James. Even if you didn’t always act like it. I feel like good friends can do that, handle distance and snap back into place.”

“And?” Logan remembered asking playfully. “Which long talks were better?”

Leo just laughed. “No, no. Not better. Finn talking is like…wild. Like wind. Talking to you is stillness. I love both. The point is, that was…that was my connection. To both of you.” He had cleared his throat then, and given Logan’s hand a squeeze. “My mama always says if you can talk to someone forever then—“

“They’re yours forever,” Logan finished. “My maman says the same thing.”

Leo’s answering smile had been blinding.

An arm circled his waist, another pressing right over his heart.

“Nice party,” Finn said softly into his ear, and Logan only had a moment in that warmth before it was gone, wary of prying eyes. It made Logan miss France, and their brief stay at his mother’s family home that summer.

No one had known them there, and Leo had adored the markets, cooking elaborate meals while Finn and Logan had sat on the counter, watching him and loving him. They’d eaten out on the stone patio, overlooking the sea.

Finn looked a little like he had there, cheeks sun-hot. Logan wanted to reach for them, as he had then, cool them with his thumb. Finn smiled, making the sun-kissed skin crease a little.

“What?” he asked.

Logan shook his head. “Remember that picture?” he asked. “The one of us. It was on your wall at Harvard, you were standing behind me, hand on my chest.”

Finn’s mouth quirked, and he nodded. Logan hesitated for a moment, realizing that Finn was wearing his NASA t-shirt, the same one he had worn the day he’d left Harvard for good, leaving Logan behind. Logan stared at the logo, then looked away, back up to his brown eyes. Bambi, the boys at Harvard had called him.

He took a sip of his drink and shrugged. “I don’t know where it went. I know you packed it, took it with you, but I can’t find it. Do you know…”

Logan trailed off, as Finn had taken out his wallet. He set his beer on the pier ledge, flipped the worn leather open, and slipped out a folded piece of paper, thick, and well-loved. He held it out to Logan, biting his lip, and then leaned back against the railing, as if waiting.

Logan let the photo fall open in his fingers, and exhaled a shaky, steadying breath. There was a laugh in it somewhere.

“Oh,” he said.

“Didn’t know you were looking for it,” Finn replied, and trailed his fingers, cold from his beer, over Logan’s wrist, then reached up to fiddle briefly with his necklace.

Logan traced his eyes over the same, gaudy string lights in the photo, their same smiles—the one Logan knew he wore more freely these days.

Logan folded the picture closed again, and slipped it back into its place in Finn’s wallet.

“You want it, Lo?” Finn asked.

Logan shook his head. “I like that you have it.”

Finn stretched out a foot, ankle hooking around Logan’s, pulling him a little closer again, to stand nearly between his legs.

“I had it all that first year,” Finn smiled. “On my own.”

Logan narrowed his eyes. “Don’t.”

Finn grinned, singing off-key. ���Pretending he’s beside me—”

Logan groaned, shoving his shoulder a little. “Okay, D’accord, I walked into that.”

Finn laughed loudly, and then swung his arm around Logan’s shoulders. “Let’s go find Le, get more food.”

They strode towards the tables.

“Hey!” Evgeni called out. He was standing with Olli and Jackson, his looming form leaning over the pier. “Ten bucks I jump!”

“Kuns, you don’t want to swim in this river,” Finn said.

“He’s going in whether you pay him or not,” Jackson shook his head. “At some point tonight.” He grinned, the scar that ran down one of his cheeks dimpling when he smiled. “Bet you twenty.”

“Nado,” Evgeni gasped, slapping his arm. “We split. Even.”

“No fucking way.”

Logan let Finn lead him away from their bickering, towards where he could immediately spot Leo, standing with Remus and Thomas. Logan felt everything just—soften.

“Do you ever think you could just find him?” Finn asked softly, the hand around Logan’s shoulders gesturing in Leo’s direction. “I mean, even if you couldn’t see him. You know?”

“Ouais,” Logan said, voice just as soft. “I know.”

Leo was mid-laugh when he spotted them, too.

“I gotta say,” he said as he met them halfway, hand on his hip, sunglasses in his hair. “I did a pretty damn good job.”

Logan huffed out a laugh. “You did. Really good.”

Finn snorted. “Way to take the credit, Nut.”

“He deserves it,” Logan said. “I was just here.”

“Lo’s the gift master,” Leo swung his arm around his shoulders. “And I’m the food master. Sounds about right?”

Logan patted Leo’s chest. “Are you going to jump in?”

Leo raised his eyebrows, squinting out at the water. “Do I want to swim in this water?”

“I’d swim if it was with you two,” Finn said. “I’d risk the murky monsters of the deep.”

“You gotta wait twenty minutes after eating,” Leo said. “And I haven’t tried the soft serve yet. They have swirls, they have mango, I mean, come on. I did so good.”

Finn laughed. “And I’m going to kiss you stupid later.”

“And I’m going to hold you to that,” Leo leaned in a little. “Birthday boy.”

They found Sirius holding a cone out to Remus by the machine, and Remus wrinkling his nose.

“C’est la vanille!” Sirius was laughing. “Quoi? Really? You don’t like vanilla?”

“You do?” Remus shook his head.

“Y’all we’ve caught the couple splashed on the front of every magazine in a, dare I say,” Leo paused, “fight?”

“First it’s pineapple pizza, now it’s vanilla,” Remus reached up, pushing Sirius’ chin length hair out of his eyes. “What did I sign up for?”

“Carrying his hair ties for him, apparently,” Finn reached out and snapped the tie around Remus’ wrist.

Remus rolled his eyes, and Logan thought Sirius might have blushed. When Logan reached up to poke at his cheek, he slapped his hand away and Logan laughed.

Sirius dragged Remus away towards where Julian, Remus’ little brother, was calling them over to the beanbag toss, and, momentarily tucked behind the shade of the soft-serve station, Logan felt Leo pull the both of them closer.

“Pretty good beginning to the end of the summer,” he sighed, licking his own cone.

“It was a damn good summer,” Finn grinned. “Hey, give me.”

Logan watched Leo hold out his cone to Finn, and agreed. It had been more than a good summer. It had been a perfect summer, and something in that made Logan stupidly worried. Sun and salt, and cold wine, and hot bodies pressed together as the moon rose. Logan closed his eyes for a moment, tucked between the two of them, and tried not to ruin this peace by thinking about all the times peace hadn’t been there.

This was Finn’s day. This was their season. Logan tilted his chin up and let the sweet mango of Leo’s ice cream sweeten his thoughts.

~

Noelle wasn’t at Finn’s party, and Thomas could feel it. He fiddled with the new, thin gold hoops she’d gifted him, barely circling away from his ears, the left one with a pearl strung along.

I’m the lucky one who found you, she’d said.

And he’d had to go and ruin it by trying to be funny, even while tears were pressing up as close to him as she was.

What does that make us, oysters?

She’d laughed, looked happy, but Thomas wished he’d said something else. He wished he had gotten something for her. He wished she wasn’t so far away.

I miss you, he tapped out on his phone, and that felt perfectly honest. Simple. Enough.

The three dots popped up and then went away. Thomas tried not to let it mean anything. She deserved to be busy. She worked just as hard—harder—than he did. Still, something like relief flooded through him when a long string of pink hearts answered him.

I miss YOU, T baby. Good party?? Tell Harzy happy bday for me.

Thomas blew out a breath. Will do. Say hi to the girls for me.

“You look like sad sunshine,” Natalie’s voice came, and he looked up to see her walking towards him, taking a sip from a honey colored beer with a lime wedged into it.

“I’m a little sad, Sunshine, like it or not,” Thomas laughed softly, pocketing his phone. “Where are the boys?”

“Canoodling,” Natalie sighed, hopping up onto one of the stools beside him under the umbrella. She had her long blond hair swept up into two french braids. “We’re both getting in our last drops of Alex, I think.”

Thomas nodded. “Hey, I never really asked, Nat. That just…happened this summer, or what?”

Natalie smiled. “Well, when I met Kasey, he hadn’t made it big yet, still on the Rangers farm team, but Alex had been on the Rangers for…maybe about a year? I can’t quite remember. I think Kase had only gotten called up a few times, so they’d met. But anyway, we start dating, two years later he gets a big boy contract with the Rags, and we get to know Alex. I saw him at team dinners only at first.” She smiled. “I was like, cutie, look at those freckles. But I had Kase, you know? I was pretty confused when I started looking a little closer. I mean, I was so happy.”

She pushed her sunglasses into her hair, leaning an elbow on the table and fiddling with a gold necklace at her throat that had the number 30 strung across the leather cord. Thomas wondered if she was going to add a 28 to that, Alex’s number, or if she’d get another one. He wondered if Noelle would want something like that. Maybe they could wear each other’s. He liked the thought.

“Well,” Natalie said. “I was confused until I noticed Kasey looking, but he wasn’t pulling away from me and I thought, hey…maybe this is something?”

“But that was how many years ago?”

Natalie took another drink. “No, yeah, nothing ever happened. Actually, I think they kissed once or twice. Roadies, you know? But Kasey gets traded, and then Finn arrived and we were like, wow, cruel joke.”

Thomas laughed. “I bet. But it meant Alex comes around again.”

She grinned. “That it did.”

Thomas held his drink up for a cheers. “Guess we owe those Cubs a lot.”

She clinked their bottles together. “Life’s weird. But, yeah, it happened this summer officially. Went to the O’Hara Hampton house, and I think we just loved being together. I forgot a little, how wonderful Alexander is. But,” she was smiling wildly again. “I woke up one morning and the boys had gone on a walk, they got back three hours later holding hands, Alex kissed me, and something changed. Maybe they worked through some history of theirs. We’re his now, he’s ours, whatever you want to call it.” She laughed. “Pretty good for a morning’s work.”

“Pretty good,” Thomas repeated.

“I’m worried it’ll be hard, though,” she sighed, chest rising and falling dejectedly. “He’s all the way in Florida and we’re here, together.”

Thomas glanced back down at his phone. “Yeah.”

“I bet that makes me sound like a snob to you,” she reached out and squeezed his hand.

He waved her off. “No, no, I just…we’re new, me and Noelle. Sometimes I worry that we’re too new for…for this.”

Natalie shook her head. “I think distance is distance. And, if it doesn’t work, it isn’t the physical space between two people. It’s a different sort of far away.”

Thomas tapped his fingers against his glass. “You just have something to say for everything, huh, Nat?”

She grinned. “Pretty mouth, gotta use it.”

Thomas snorted. “You’re not wrong.”

“Come on,” she said. “I’m going to whip your ass a ring toss.”

“Yeah fucking right.”

~

“Apparently they closed down a bunch of streets,” Remus was saying, still bleary-eyed and waking up as Sirius made the coffee. “That’s awesome.”

“It’s a parade. Of course,” Sirius said as he pushed the lid of their french press down.

Remus looked up to see him smiling and rolled his eyes, laughing, “Okay, sure, but it’s still crazy. They say it’s going to bigger than the Cup Parade was in June.”

That made Sirius’ eyebrows raise. “Really?”

Remus hummed in agreement, clicking his phone off and popping his back. “Well. I know Pride is in June, but I’m happy we get to do this, too.”

Sirius nodded, sliding onto the stool beside Remus with two waiting mugs. “Captain gets the Cup last. I don’t make the rules.”

Remus just yawned and let his temple fall against Sirius’ shoulder, closing his eyes as Sirius’ warm palm came to brush over his hair and neck.

“September is in two weeks,” Remus mumbled. “How the hell did that happen?”

Sirius poured their coffee and pressed a kiss against Remus’ hair. “You’ll be fine.”

“Hm?”

“I know you’re nervous for training camp. You’ve seen it a million times, though.”

“Yeah,” Remus sighed and sat up pulling his steaming mug close. “Seen it.”

Sirius laughed, going to the refrigerator for the milk. His hair was in dark, glorious tangles, and Remus vaguely wondered how much time they had before they needed to get ready.

“I meant,” Sirius leaned over the island and poured them both milk before capping it again and going for the brown sugar. Remus smiled when he realized that Sirius had picked that up from Remus’ mom, Hope. “I meant that you know it never comes across like…like some insane competition for spots.”

Remus raised an eyebrow. “It is, though. I mean, not for the Sirius Black, but…”

“D’accord,” Sirius nodded. “Okay, okay. But you know what I mean?”

“I’m not worried about the team,” Remus said as Sirius came to sit down again. “I’m worried I’m not going to make the team.”

Sirius shook his head, set his mug down, and all but pulled Remus off of his stool to gather him close. Remus mumbled something about cold coffee, but smiled as he let himself be kissed good morning, kissed calm, kissed loved.

“I’m not worried,” Sirius whispered, and kissed him some more.

Remus had barely shut his car door—having opened it to cheers—before he was getting an armful of his little brother.

“Oof,” Remus grunted, but squeezed him, lifting him off of his feet. “Nice outfit, Jules.”

Julian jumped back, his Lupin Lions Pride jersey actually fitting him for once. “Thanks, dad found it for me.”

“He insisted on wearing it,” Hope Lupin smiled as she walked up. “But you’re going to roast so tell me when you want your t-shirt, baby, it’s in my bag. Hi, Re.”

“Hi, mom,” Remus let her kiss his cheek a few times.

“Salut,” Sirius grinned from beside him. Remus watched them hug, warmed more deeply than by the heat. Hope patted Sirius’ chest where a faded rainbow twelve was printed on his t-shirt. Remus was going to steal that thing as soon as he took it off.

“What a party!” Hope grinned. “Is someone grilling? Thought I smelled it.”

Remus nodded. “Yeah, they got this restaurant downtown to bring BBQ.”

“Is there ice cream?” Julian said, huffing. “I’m hot.”

Sirius plucked at his jersey jokingly. “Mais, ouais, it’s almost ninety!”

Hope laughed, and put a hand on Julian’s back. “I’ll get him cooled off. Your dad’s around here somewhere with Pascal. Meet you on the float in ten. And make sure you’re wearing sunscreen!”

Remus watched his family wind their way through the colorful, crowded streets, felt Sirius’ fingers lace through his own, and smiled.

The sun did beat down hot, but Remus didn’t mind so much, not when they were filed onto the float that was equipped with a red and gold Lions head roaring at the front and rainbow streamers at the back, like an extension of the mane. The Cup sat on a high pedestal between them, strapped in shining.

The crowd was wild. People were hanging out of the tall parking garage that lined one side. The pavement was painted in thick strips of rainbow in some places, and red and gold in others.

Gryffindor loved their Lions. It almost made Remus want to cry, seeing how happy Sirius was. Half of the team was on their float, some of them walking beside. Remus spotted Logan sporting a rainbow brimmed hat walking with Kasey and returned the peace sign Logan sent up.

“Everyone is decked out, man,” James shouted in Remus’ ear from beside him, Harry on his hip. He and Lily had returned in time for Finn’s birthday. He was wearing a Lions Pride shirt, and Harry had a tiny one to match and a sunhat that practically covered his entire body that Lily kept coming over to adjust. James grinned. “Damn. Good Cup Day.”

“It’s not my Cup Day,” Remus laughed. “But I do sort of feel like this is my day.”

James just smiled, pointing at people for Harry to wave at. “Maybe won’t have to make that distinction next year, eh? Look, Har, see the flags? You want one, bud?”

“Re,” Sirius leaned in, and Remus felt his hand on his back. “Want to walk a bit?”

Remus nodded, eyes finding where Leo, Jackson, Evgeni, and Olli were walking together, keeping time with the floats and talking to the crowd. Leo had a rainbow flag painted on one cheek, Natalie’s work.

Remus felt for his own hat, flipping the colorful brim backwards as he hopped down.

“Hey,” Jackson grinned, throwing an arm around Remus’ shoulders. Evgeni had one of Sergei’s daughters in his arms, chatting with the crowd. He wasn’t wearing Jackson’s rainbow-striped shirt, but it looked like one of the kids had stuck two stickers on one of his cheeks that he wasn’t bothering removing. Remus wondered if he was worried, about his family, or his country, like he had told Sirius. It sent a wave of thankfulness through him, the fact that he was here.

“Nado,” Remus hugged Jackson. “Jesus, seriously, what did you do this summer? You look fit, man.”

“You see him,” Evgeni called over, handing a sharpie back to someone wrapped almost entirely in a flag covered with glitter. “Stare in the mirror, in love.”

“I don’t,” Jackson protested.

Evgeni just shrugged, spinning Sergei’s daughter around. “I’m see you.”

“Well, hand some over,” Remus said.

Jackson just gave him a shake. “You’re going to make the team.”

“Maybe,” Remus groaned out a laugh, knocking him away.

“No maybes,” Sirius said, sidling up to Remus’ side and replacing Jackson’s arm.

“Sirius! Cap!” someone called, and Remus felt Sirius tense a little, as he always did in crowds, or media.

The person calling had short brown hair and seemed to have tailored a loose jersey of Sirius’ into a form-fitting dress. The sleeves were cut and hemmed by the twelves on the sleeves.

“Salut!” they said, accent stiff, and laughed. “I tried.”

That seemed to ease Sirius a little, and Remus tugged him to a stop.

“Salut,” Sirius smiled. “Wow, that’s my jersey?”

They nodded, eyes sliding over to Remus. “It is. My girlfriend was hoping to have a Lupin one so we can match, but…”

The girl beside her, black hair tucked up in a bandana, smiled and threw her hands up. “When are they stocking those! I have two hundred bucks I’m ready to drop, I mean, let’s go before I second guess myself!”

Remus laughed. “Oh man, I’ve been there.”

“With my jersey, ouais?” Sirius grinned was teasing as he signed an autograph and Remus blushed.

“Here,” Sirius took out his phone. “You can give me your phone number, if you’re okay with it, and I’ll get you one? Yeah?”

“Oh…are you kidding?” the girl put a hand over her mouth. “Oh my God, I…yes, Cap, you can have my phone number, sure fucking thing.”

They moved along the crowd easily. Sirius grabbed the Cup at one point, walking it along for people to touch just as their entire team had in June. Remus stayed well away.

“No jinxes here,” an older man in a Lions Pride shirt laughed, his arm around his son. He held out his hand. “My entire family’s been Lions fans for generations. Glad to have you on the team.”

His son, the very image of his father, smiled and tentatively held out a sharpie. “Would you sign my shirt? I’ve seen your tapes and everything, I…you’re my favorite. I was thinking about getting out of hockey before you.”

Remus blinked. “I…” he took the sharpie, swallowing around the tightness in his throat. “I’m glad you’re staying. Are you a defenseman?”

He lit up. “How’d you know?”

Remus shrugged, smiling. “You hold yourself like one.”

“I hope that’s a good thing!” Remus heard Olli call from a little ways down.

He laughed. “How did you hear that?”

Remus signed the boy’s shirt, thanked him, and jogged a little to catch up with Sirius.

“I’ll take that,” Jackson grinned, and plucked the Cup from Sirius’ grasp.

“It’s my Cup Day!” Sirius laughed, but wrapped his arm around Remus instead. “Hi.”

“That was my first signature,” Remus said softly, to Sirius only, and Sirius squeezed his shoulders.

“The first of many.”

It was a bit of a blur after that. Natalie brought them ice cream and cold lemonade, which turned Sirius’ kisses even sweeter when they made it back home, out of the heat and stumbling, happy and sun-kissed. Sirius’ entrance hall was dark to Remus’ unadjusted eyes, and he focused on his palms, splayed over Sirius’ broad back. He yelped when a voice rang out from the living room.

“We’re on the couch!” Regulus shouted. “Just so you know!”

Sirius broke the kiss, looking flushed and dazed. “What…why?”

“I live here!” Regulus’ voice called back.

Remus suppressed a smile, and leaned his forehead against Sirius’ chest, trying to calm his breathing and any flush of arousal that had been beginning to stir up.

“Fuck,” Sirius swore. “How did he get home before us?”

“Who’s we?” Remus called out.

“Howdy,” Leo’s voice came.

Sirius sighed. “It’s my Cup Day.”

Remus gave his hip a short pat before walking down the hallway and rounding the corner to find Leo and Regulus slouched on the couch, AC on full blast.

“Right,” Remus nodded. “You’re suppose to be helping Reg pack for school.”

Regulus glanced up from his phone. “There’s twenty different gifs of you jumping down from the float and turning his hat backwards on Twitter.”

Remus blinked. “What?” He didn’t even remember doing that.

Leo nodded, crunching a potato chip. “And we’ve only been looking for ten minutes.”

“Huh,” Sirius said, turning towards the kitchen. He stopped, hesitated for a moment, and turned back. “Let me see.”

Remus huffed out a laugh. “I need water.”

“Donne-moi!” Sirius demanded of Regulus, grabbing for his phone.

“You have your own phone!” Remus made out Regulus’ reply in French.

Remus filled his glass, downed in, and was filling it again when Leo came into the kitchen, rolling his eyes and smiling.

“Thought I’d leave the brothers to fight. Can’t believe I used to be scared of both of them.”

Remus laughed, too. “Right?”

Remus watched Leo grab a glass, spinning his own slowly around on the counter. “Are you…”

Leo glanced up. “Hm?”

Remus took a breath. “Tell me if I’m overstepping, but I know today must’ve been a little…” he took his hat off, the colorful bill bright against the dark stone of the counter.

Leo nodded in understanding, sliding onto a stool. “It wasn’t…hard. It was actually good to see all of the support. I could see it in Finn and Logan, too. Logan is nervous.” He nodded to himself. “More nervous than me and Finn. Understandably. I mean, you know how long he and Finn…” Leo shook his head. “I was happy he got to see that. And Finn was happy, I know, too. Maybe we’ll start making plans. I mean, this summer was just fucking heaven. Just being together. Like, I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy.”

“Me too,” Remus sat on the stool beside him. They smiled at each other, then laughed. “I’m happy for you guys.”

“I am, too,” Leo grinned. “All right, I think me and Reg have to actually put his clothes in suitcases now.”

“Good luck.”

“That boy owns, like, five t-shirts,” Leo drained his glass and put it in the sink. “Shouldn’t be too hard.”

Remus grabbed a third glass and followed Leo back into the living room where they found Sirius leaning over the back of the couch, squinting at Regulus’ phone. He did a double take when he spotted Remus.

“Hey, where’s your hat?”

Remus snorted. “I’m not a twitter gif. C’mon, I need a shower.”

Regulus raised a teasing eyebrow. “And you need him for that?”

Remus stuck out his tongue. “Yeah.”

Sirius flicked the back of Regulus’ head. “Go pack.”

Remus tugged his t-shirt off on their way up the stairs. “That was wonderful, but fuck do I wish it wasn’t a thousand degrees.”

“I don’t know,” came Sirius’ reply from behind him as they entered their bedroom, followed by his hands on Remus’ hips and his lips against his neck. “When it’s hot, your hair sticks to your neck just…” he kissed just by Remus’ ear gently. “Here.”

Remus bit back a smile. “With sweat.”

“It’s handsome, I think.”

Remus laughed, turning in Sirius’ arms. He was summer tan and happy. Remus didn’t think he’d ever get tired of seeing that grin, one that was more and more present lately. Sirius laughed and made small talk with fans who asked for pictures—even today, he had seemed to almost enjoy the crowds and the media. Remus touched his number twelve necklace. He brought it to his lips. “You’re handsome.”

They stepped into the shower together and stood in the peace and quiet of the beating down water, turned cool against their heated skin. Remus rested his head against Sirius’ chest, and smiled when he felt Sirius lace their fingers together. It wasn’t exactly a new thing anymore, but it still felt new. It had been that way when James, Lily, and Harry had first arrived home and Sirius had done it on the table between them at the restaurant, just as it had been early in June, when Sirius had done it while they waiting in line to board their plane.

Remus looked up, squeezing his hand, and Sirius bent to take Remus’ mouth against his own again. It was softer, but Remus felt just as giddy from the day’s events. A parade. A Cup Day.

He wanted one of his own.

“Love you, mon loup,” he smiled. “Thank you for today.”

Remus ran his hand over Sirius’ broad shoulders. “I didn’t do anything.”

“You did everything,” Sirius whispered back. “You are part of me allowing myself things.”

Remus felt his expression soften.

“Heather explained it that way,” Sirius said. “I thought it was well put.”

Heather, the team’s sports psychiatrist. Remus had only actually met her a few times, but Sirius valued her highly, had called her a few times during the off season.

“I like it, too,” he said, and let Sirius pull him close again.

They threw the windows open to let the cooling breeze in once they were back downstairs, and Sirius put steaks on the grill for the two of them.

“Where’d Reg and Nut go?” Sirius asked.

“I think out with some of the boys,” Remus said, and followed as Sirius went back out to the patio. He notched his hip against the door frame. “Hey, do you want to go to the rink tomorrow? All this Cup talk has got me wanting to skate, like, now.”

Sirius tilted his head back and laughed. “With you? Always.”

Remus grinned and padded back over to the counter where the salad was waiting for dressing.

“I’m glad we didn’t end up having everyone over,” Remus said as he tossed it. “As much as I love them.”

Sirius hummed, sliding the screen door of the deck closed. He set the plate and tongs down before wrapping his arms around Remus.

“As much as I love them,” he repeated quietly, lips brushing against Remus’ neck. “I want you all to myself right now.”

Remus leaned back against him. “My thoughts exactly, baby.”

Sirius smiled against his skin. “Glad we’re on the same page. Vanilla hater.”

Remus pinched his arm. “Pineapple hater.”

~

Cole woke up to the smell of bacon and eggs wafting down to his room from the kitchen—and Katie Dumais curled up at the foot of his bed.

He jumped a little, and then sat up slowly. It took him a moment to realize that she wasn’t asleep, but that she was fiddling with a little charm bracelet, her eyes down.

He cleared his throat. “Uh, hi, Katie.”

She looked up, and a grin lit up her face. “Mom says breakfast is ready. I didn’t want to wake you up, even though she told me to.”

He sat up a little more. “How long ago was that?”

Katie wrinkled her nose. “Maybe four hours?”

Cole blinked, and picked up his phone from his nightstand. It was eight-thirty. He glanced back at Katie.

“Can you tell time?” he asked slowly.

“Not really,” she sighed happily, and kept fiddling with her bracelet. “You still have rainbow paint on your face.”

Cole laughed, rubbing a hand over his cheek, where Lily Potter had painted a flag the day before, for the parade. Where the Stanley Cup had been.

It still all felt surreal to say.

“Okay. Um, tell her I’ll be up in a second, okay?”

Katie nodded. “Okay!”

Cole listened to her footsteps scamper all the way up the stairs before he flopped back down on his pillows and chuckled to himself. He gave his teeth a quick brush and followed.

“Bon matin,” Celeste smiled as she flipped a few more pieces of bacon onto a plate. “How did you sleep? I think that heat yesterday tired everyone out.”

Cole slid onto a stool beside Marc and Louis, Katie to his right. “Really good, thanks.”

“The air conditioner isn’t acting up again?” Celeste asked. “Logan was always having trouble with that thing.”

“It didn’t turn on right away, but I fixed it,” Cole smiled when she set a steaming plate of eggs, bacon and fruit in front of him, and then another plate with toast. “My mom’s big with her tool kit, so, I mean, if you ever need anything around the house, I know some stuff. Just so I can…help out. Thank you for letting me stay.”

Celeste beamed. “Oh, sweetheart, we’re not just letting you stay. We’re very happy you’re here. Someone your age shouldn’t be alone, especially with all the pressure that comes with this job. But I will absolutely take you up on that. You wouldn’t know how to build me some planters, would you? Pascal bought the wood ages ago,” she turned back to the sink, waving a spatula. “Always saying he will take care of it, and yet there it sits!”

Cole laughed softly. “Yeah, I can do that. Sounds good.”

“Well, good,” Celeste smiled, pulling her purse over her shoulder. “Now, Pascal is with Sergei for an ice session—which you’re always invited to, he says, by the way—I’m taking Louis to tennis, and Marc to space camp. Layla will be here soon, but do you mind looking after Katie until she gets here? Adele’s up in her room if you have any questions. She’ll know.”

Cole nodded, trying to swallow the eggs quickly. “Of course. No problem.”

Celeste smiled. “She loves you enough already, she’ll be no trouble.”

“She’s always trouble,” Louis mumbled.

Celeste tisked, but kissed his head. “Come on, up. Cole, you have some of the boys’ numbers, too, right?”

“Um,” Cole thought of Sirius Black’s number in his phone from when he called him. “Yes?”

“Good. I know you don’t have a car yet, and you’re always welcomed to ours when it’s available, but if you ever need a ride anywhere, I’m sure any one of them will drive you.”

Cole, for the life of him, didn’t think he would ever be able to bring himself to call Sirius Black up and ask him to drive him to, what, Target? Jesus.

“Right,” Cole tried for a smile and knew it came out nervous. “Thanks.”

Katie did turn out to be a pretty easy kid. Even if she did seem to switch activities at a rapid pace. She drew, and then she watched half of a TV show, and then she was hungry, but she did all of it herself. After less than 30 minutes she had parked both of them on the couch where they were stringing beads for necklaces.

“I’ll make you Lions colors,” she said seriously.

That had been Cole’s best—and only—idea. He glanced at the multi-colored kit. “What colors do you want?”

“Surprise me.”

Cole smiled. “All right. What’s your charm bracelet?” He nodded to the small silver ring around her wrist.

“It’s from Tremzy,” Katie thrust her wrist forward. “He gets me one every one of my birthdays. There’s a hockey stick, because we love hockey, and an ice cream cone, because we love ice cream, and this is a book because we read together, and—”

There was the ding that told Cole that Layla had arrived, coming in from the garage, and Katie was off again.

“Hi,” Cole said, leaning against the kitchen doorframe.

Layla looked up from trying to put her things down and hug Katie at the same time. “Hey, Cole.”

“How’s it going?” Cole asked, feeling decidedly more prepared this time. Layla was in a green tank-top today, but her same shorts and gold rings.

“Busy,” she laughed. “I actually have my first orientation this evening, at the rink.”

Cole nodded. “Nice. I’ve never actually been inside. Well, not yet, I guess.”

Layla straightened at that. “Well…I’m driving over once Celeste gets home, just to see the place first.” She seemed to take a breath. “Do you want to come with?”

~

They didn’t have full gear, but the chilled rink was a relief against the sweat they worked up anyway. Remus borrowed a helmet—his own hadn’t been sent out yet—and used his old, worn in CCM skates.

“I can still beat you in these,” Remus panted as he skated backwards, tapping the puck back and forth and trying to gauge which way Sirius was going to dodge first.

“Oh, I know,” Sirius said, then lifted his right foot and went left.

Remus knocked the puck out of his stick towards the boards, and it sent them both chasing it.

“You use that trick too much!” Remus laughed, it echoing across the empty rink, as he shoved Sirius against the glass, the puck trapped between his skate blade and the foot of the boards.

“What about this one?” Sirius said, and turned to press their mouths together. Remus smiled into it, and it was enough to allow Sirius to steal the puck back.

“No!” Remus laughed as Sirius carried the puck expertly across the blue line, winding his stick up and taking a deadly slap shot, notching it perfectly in the upper left corner of the empty goal.

He dropped to a knee, sliding into a celebration before wrapping around the goal with a final whoop and crashing back into Remus for another kiss.

“Wanna run plays?” Sirius asked. “I’ll be your center if you’ll be my winger.”

Remus smiled as they reset themselves, pushing the used pucks towards the boards. “That might not happen.”

“Maybe I have more pull than you think.”

Remus raised an eyebrow. “Not that much, baby. What’s going to happen is I’ll start on the fourth line, go from there. Anything else and every journalist in the city would go batshit crazy.”

Sirius just scooped another puck into the goal, then hooked his arms over his stick, the body behind his neck. “Wouldn’t be our first time causing that.”

Remus smiled. “True.” He nudged Sirius towards center ice. “Face-off.”

Sirius took his helmet off to push his hair back. “Let’s do it.”

Remus was just tugging off his shirt, smiling as he listened to Sirius rattle of plans for the season, when he heard two voices laughing from the hallway. Sirius’ smile dropped, and he narrowed his eyes at the door.

“Don’t know,” Sirius said. “Hey, where are we meeting the guys for—”

“Should we check out the locker room?” one of the outside voices said—higher. “Do you think it’s open?”

“Non,” Sirius mumbled under his breath, grabbing for the back of his own shirt.

The door opened hesitantly at first, then wider, revealing Layla and Cole.

Cole flushed, and Layla’s mouth opened, then closed.

“Oh my god,” she said. “Sorry, we didn’t think…”

Remus glanced at Sirius, but when he didn’t say anything, just pretending to fiddle grumpily with his bag, he waved them off.

“Hey, we were just swinging by for a quick skate. It’s not our locker room,” he smiled. “Well, not only ours. You guys have the same idea?”

“Not skating, maybe,” Layla replied, twisting one of her braids around her finger. She looked up at Cole, who still looked like he thought he was in the wrong place, and smiled. “But neither of us have really gotten to look around yet, so, we thought we would.”

Remus smiled, using his dirty t-shirt to wipe sweat from his brow. “Nice. Well, maybe Cap and I can give you a tour or something some time.”

Sirius glanced up. “Marls does that.”

Remus tried to send Sirius a look with his eyes, but Sirius just glanced mournfully towards what Remus thought might be the video review room.

“Well…” Remus said hesitantly.

“We’ll keep looking around,” Layla said quickly. “See you guys around.”

Remus watched them to make sure the door was closed, then turned and punched Sirius in the arm.

“Quoi?” Sirius asked.

“Grumpy.”

“I liked it just us,” Sirius mumbled. “I thought we could plan plays or—or watch tape.”

Remus laughed, pressing his forehead to Sirius’ chest. “You’re such a baby.”

One corner of Sirius’ mouth raised. “So?”

“You wanted the rookie to stop making moon eyes at you,” Remus said. “Here’s your chance.”

“D’accord,” Sirius’ grin spread as he gathered Remus closer by his hips. “But will you keep making moon eyes at me?”

Remus leaned up for a gentle kiss. “I’m going to ask them to lunch. Wait here, Captain, you scare the rookie.”

“I don’t,” Sirius sighed, and Remus pushed out the locker room door.

“Hey,” Remus jogged to catch up as Cole and Layla turned at his voice. “Us and some of the other guys are planning to get lunch. How about it? You, too, Layla.”

Layla blinked. “Seriously?”

Remus laughed. “Team lunch isn’t a team lunch without the PT. Or, one of them, at least.”

Layla grinned. “Right. Well, I’d love to.”

Cole nodded quickly. “I—yeah. Yeah, cool. That rooftop place again?”

“You’re already picking up on team favorites, I see.”

Cole smiled sheepishly. “Kuny makes us go there every time.”

“It’s the sushi,” Remus laughed. “He’s a man obsessed. Well, cool. Meet you there in twenty?”

Layla jingled her keys. “See you there.”

“Sushi,” Evgeni all but moaned as he picked up a piece of yellowtail.

“Jesus, Kuns,” Jackson said. “You can’t eat all of that by yourself.”

Evgeni was chewing with his eyes closed. “You don’t know.”

“All right,” Thomas leaned forward, folding his sunglasses into his shirt in the shade of their umbrella. “What do we think this season, boys? Predictions, let me hear them.”

They all looked to Sirius first, who leaned back in his chair, one arm over the back of Remus’. He took a sip of his iced tea.

“Rangers,” he said finally.

“Uh-huh,” James nodded.

“Same,” Layla said, taking a spoonful of her miso soup.

“Caps, maybe,” Sirius continued.

“Definitely,” Remus said.

“I’m feeling Avs?” Thomas offered. “And I don’t want to say Snakes, but…yuck.”

“More like Vegas,” Remus said.

The table paused, and Remus just shook his head.

“It’s true,” he said, glancing at Cole and Layla, trying to decide if they’d noticed the shift in the air. He had to be able to talk about this. About him. "They’re deep this year.”

“Yeah,” Cole said softly. “Greyback’s killer.”

Remus felt the entire table tense and felt immediately guilty. Cole didn’t know what he had said, and Remus all but watched him wonder if he’d said something wrong.

“And us,” Thomas grinned, slapping Cole on the back. “We’ve got Lupin now. We’ve got Reyes.”

Remus rolled his eyes, but laughed. He tried to express his thanks silently, and Thomas winked at him.

This felt different. He had known it would. Team dinners would be his dinners now, not a friendly tag-along invite. Driving to practice with Sirius, they would go through almost the same routine, not split off for his office and the locker room. These were his teammates. He’d win and lose with them, and they with him, in a way they hadn’t before. Sitting there, in the sunshine that was going to turn colder, Remus looked forward to a year of this.

[fruitcoops]

Can I please ask for some protective Cubs and/or Coops. I adore these boys and I love the fics where they always have each other’s backs. It could be a similar situation to Remus and that Stan guy or something different. No pressure or anything and if you don’t vibe with this prompt don’t stess bestie

Yes, I love protective Lions! For the anon whose meds got mixed up: I'm so sorry that happened, and I hope this provides the comfort you were looking for in the form of Cub lovin' <3 SW credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW for panic attacks, forgetting to eat a healthy meal

It was Sirius who noticed first. Then Remus. Then Finn.

He was still kicking himself over that one, to be honest.

Sirius moved like a solid wall, murmuring in quiet French as he led Logan out of the gym and into the hall with Remus hot on their heels. A pang hit Finn right in the heart—I want to understand, he thought, fervent and afraid as he set the jump rope down. I would build the Tower of Babel again to understand how to help.

His pulse picked up; sweat itched at his forehead even after he stopped exercising. “Something’s wrong,” Leo said under his breath as they hurried into the hall.

Obviously, Finn bit back. He should have known since the second Logan started snapping his fingers in a nervous tic, should have seen the fucking signs—

“Everything alright?” James asked cautiously from the weight bench where he laid. “Did someone get hurt?”

“Just—just hang on a second.”

“Respire.” Sirius sat crosslegged across from Logan, whose eyes were squeezed shut as he leaned his head against the wall about ten feet from the door. “Logan, respire.”

A gentle but firm hand moved Finn out of the way by his shoulder; Remus slipped past them with a cup of water. “Drink this,” he ordered as he took Logan’s twitching hand between his own. “Open your eyes if you can.”

“Gonna throw up,” Logan managed, his voice high and reedy.

“Lo?” Finn’s mouth was dry. Logan hadn’t had a panic attack since their last year at Harvard together—he barely remembered what to do.

Logan’s chest caved at the sound of his voice, and one pale green eye cracked open to stare at him in sheer terror. “Finn. Finn, it’s happening, I don’t know what to do—”

“Move.” Finn’s throat hurt, but his brain kicked into autopilot. I can fix this. “Leo, get some damp paper towels from the break room. Cap, give him space.”

Leo disappeared from his stunned place by his side; after a moment’s hesitation, Sirius held his hands up and backed away. Logan was still gripping Remus’ hand with white knuckles. “How do I help?” Remus asked as soon as Finn knelt next to Logan.

“Grab some more water, and granola bars.” Slowly and deliberately, he reached up and cupped the side of Logan’s face. He had never allowed himself to do it at Harvard, but Logan always came back to himself quicker with a grounding touch. “Logan, can you look at me for a second?”

He shook his head. “Gonna throw up.”

“Alright.” With a shaky exhale, Logan leaned into his palm. “There you go, good job. Are you still dizzy?”

“Little bit.”

Past adrenaline rush, past collapsing, moving through dizziness. Finn ran through his mental checklist like it was just yesterday that Logan had crumbled after a bad game in from of scouts. “Cap was right, you need to breathe. I’ll do it with you, okay?”

He watched Logan’s chest move up and down, erratic at first before slowing to match Finn’s steady pace. Something damp and cool brushed against his free hand and he pressed the paper towel to Logan’s forehead, then kissed Leo’s cheek in gratitude as he sat down. “What happened, love?”

Logan swallowed hard and licked his lips, but his eyes were opening. “Dunno. I was almost at the end of my reps. I was fine.”

“Did you eat?” Sirius asked quietly to his left, waiting with his arms crossed. Despite his stance, he didn’t look angry.

“Bagel for breakfast. Coffee.”

His mouth tilted down. “That’s not enough.”

“Desole.”

“We’re not upset,” Finn assured him, sliding the makeshift washcloth to his temple. “Just worried.”

“It’s really warm in here,” Logan panted. His pupils had dilated so far they almost masked the green entirely. Past dizziness, into dehydration. “Is anyone else warm?”

Finn’s sweat was already cooling on his body as he handed him the water glass. “Drink.”

In twenty seconds, half of it was gone. A decent amount spilled over the front of Logan’s shirt from his shaking hands, but that didn’t seem to bother him. Leo’s whole face was lined with concern. “Better?”

“Oui.”

Finn glanced up at the others and gave them a quick nod. We’ve got him. Sirius squeezed his shoulder as he passed, and Remus passed him a couple energy bars before heading back into the gym. Logan’s breaths were coming easier; they waited in silence until the rest of the water was gone and his face regained some of its color. “You can’t skip breakfast on heavy workout days, Lo,” Finn said, folding his legs under himself. “You know that’s how these get triggered.”

“It’s been long enough that I thought I’d be alright.”

“Does this happen a lot with you?” Leo asked. Insecurity flickered over his face and Finn felt a stab of guilt.

Thankfully, Logan shook his head. “Not for a while. They used to, back in school.”

“Then why’d you skip breakfast if you knew it might happen?”

“I slept weird. Didn’t wake up hungry, and by the time I was, we had to go.”

“We can take another five or ten minutes to make sure you eat instead of having a panic attack.” Just to make that extremely clear, he added in his mind. “For future reference.”

Logan’s nose twitched as he looked toward the gym door. “Sorry for interrupting your practice.”

“Health comes first,” Leo said firmly. “Practice won’t ever be more important than your safety.”

“It’s our job—”

Finn held his hands up in a timeout motion. “Panic attacks aren’t something we fuck around with, remember? The guys will understand. Coach will understand. Besides, we’re your boyfriends. It’s our job to take care of you when you’re feeling shitty.”

Logan looked between them, sighed, and leaned forward to rest his forehead on both their shoulders. “I love you.”

“Love you, too,” Leo said into the soft skin of his neck with a light kiss.

Finn rubbed small circles onto the back of his hand and buried his face Logan’s slightly-sweaty curls. “Love you, three. Ready to head back in?”

“Only if you’re ready for me to kick your ass in squats.”

Leo snorted. “Bold of you to assume Cap’s letting you near anything heavy for the next 24 hours.”

“That assumes he lets you in the gym at all,” Finn amended.

Logan rolled his eyes. “I’m fine.”

“And I’m sure he’ll believe you, after you’ve been cleared by every doctor in a four-mile radius.”

“I’ll make him let me in.”

“Now that I’d pay to see,” Finn laughed. He internally cheered at the rosy splotches of temper that lived a semi-permanent life on Logan’s cheeks.

Leo nodded. “A true battle of wills.”

Logan’s jaw ticked at the side. “You’re the worst boyfriends ever.”

“Nah, we’re just protecting you from your big bad older brother who is fully capable of banning you from the gym if you don’t play your cards right.” They heaved him to his feet by his hands; if Finn spent a little extra time dusting his back and thighs off, that was nobody’s business but their own.

“Are you done?” Logan asked with clear amusement written all over his face.

“I’m protecting the booty,” Finn said solemnly. Next to him, Leo fought a valiant battle against the grin trying to take over his face. “It’s a very important booty, you know.”

“Like you’d know, Pancake O’Hara.” With a playful smack to his—admittedly lacking, in comparison—rear end, Logan strolled back down the hall to the gym and pulled the door open.

“Yoga mats,” Sirius said without preamble. Leo clamped a hand over his mouth and hid his face in Finn’s shoulder.

“But—”

“Yoga mats. If you even breathe on the weights, I swear to god I’ll sit on you.”

“You’re the worst.”

“Love you, too.” Sirius narrowed his eyes down the hall. “You two have absolutely no excuse to chill out here. Congrats, Harzy, your rotation for the bench press just started. Knutty, Bliz is waiting for you by the ice baths.”

“Oh, god,” Leo groaned.

Even Sirius looked sympathetic as he moved aside to let Logan in. “It’s only fifteen minutes. You’ll sur—Logan, put that down!”

[expectingtofly]

First Day Jitters

established dean/cas, toddler!jack, dramatic parenting

1.7k

written for day 4 of @smiledean and @chocolatecakecas's follower celebration || prompt: baby!jack

“Say cheese.”

“CHEESE!” Jack beamed at the camera and Dean snapped a photo. Gripping his backpack straps, Jack twirled around as Dean lowered his phone. The school yard was already filling up with other kids Jack’s age, ready for their first day of school.

“Wait, take one of us together,” Cas said, crouching down by Jack. Jack threw his arms around Cas’ neck, nearly making him lose his balance. They both smiled at the camera, twin grins, and Dean couldn’t help a smile as he took their photo.

“Kindergarten!” Jack yelled as he released his grip on Cas.

“Alright, dude, remember,” Dean said, pocketing his phone. “No yelling in class.”

“And no powers,” Sam spoke up. “Most important rule of all.”

Jack nodded solemnly. “And if anyone picks on you…” Dean looked at him expectantly.

“Hit first, ask questions later!”

Cas rubbed at his forehead. “Dean, we’ve talked about this.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Tell us and we’ll beat them up for you.”

“Okay,” Jack said, kicking at loose gravel with his cowboy boots. He had picked out his outfit himself—boots with bee socks, jeans with sunflower patches, and a blue t-shirt with a green brontosaurus. Complete with a Barbie backpack, his outfit was truly… colorful. A lot for the eyes to handle at once.

Teachers milled around outside, and Cas said, “There’s Jack’s teacher.” He waved and she made a pained smile before quickly looking away.

Dean stifled a laugh at Cas’ hurt expression. “Guess we didn’t make the best first impression at Back to School night.”

“Who woulda known asking to lay out salt lines wouldn’t make you any friends,” Sam deadpanned.

“I still think we should’ve warded the school,” Dean protested.

“We’re trying to not get kicked out,” Sam shot back.

“Hey!” Jack said, getting their attention. He balled up his fists on his hips. “No fighting! This is an exciting day!”

“Yes, it is,” Cas agreed, giving them a pointed look. “And we are very excited for you.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Dean said, holding up his hands. A bell rang and a teacher opened the door to the school. “Think it’s time to go.”

Jack turned to watch the rush of kids to the school, his backpack nearly as large as he was. Had the school building always towered over him like that? Dean wondered.

“Exciting day,” Jack said to himself, sounding less sure.

“Hey,” Sam said, crouching by his side. “You’re gonna have fun, okay?”

Jack looked back at them and Dean nodded. “We’ll be waiting for you when school’s over.”

Jack took a deep breath, then smiled. “Okay.” He gave them all one last hug, and Dean couldn’t resist smoothing out his hair and checking the straps on his backpack.

When Jack let go of Cas, Cas grabbed his hand, holding tight. “You’ll pray to me, right? If anything happens?” Jack nodded, tugging a little to get away.

Cas held on. “And you’ll remember everything to tell us when you get home?”

“Yes, Dada.” He tugged again and Cas let him go.

Dean watched him run to join the kids lining up at the doors. The teachers counted them, and Jack started chattering with the boy standing in front of him wearing a dinosaur backpack.

“Fuck,” Dean swore under his breath, feeling his eyes prickle as the teachers started leading the kids inside. Jack skipped his way to the door, his backpack bouncing behind him. Right before he disappeared inside, he turned and waved.

Dean hastily blinked and swallowed hard, waving back.

The doors closed behind the kids and the yard was reduced to silence.

“Now what?” Cas asked, staring at the doors.

“Now we leave and don’t stalk the school,” Sam said. He grinned, looking at Dean. “Are you crying?”

“Shut up,” Dean said, wiping at his eyes brusquely. They started for their cars, though he couldn’t help looking back. Third window on the righthand side, second floor. Jack’s classroom. He’d cased the school last week, learned the exits and entrances. Still, standing outside, he felt helpless.

“Shit—he had his lunchbox, right?” he asked, hand pausing on the Impala’s driver's door. “And his pencil case, and—”

“You checked his backpack three times this morning,” Cas reminded him. “He has everything.”

“Right, right..."

“See you guys later for dinner?” Sam asked, heading to his own car.

“See ya then,” Dean agreed, getting in the driver’s seat. He paused before putting the key in the ignition, though, eyes drawn to the school doors.

“He’s going to do great,” Cas said, sounding a little too much like he was trying to convince himself.

Dean nodded. Jack had done great in preschool and they had spent all summer preparing him for the transition into kindergarten. Not that Jack needed much convincing to go. He loved school; it was more Dean and Cas who needed time to adjust to the idea.

A sniff drew his eyes to Cas, who was wiping at his eyes.

“Fuck, not you too,” Dean complained, feeling his own eyes well up again.

“His carseat,” Cas said simply, and Dean glanced at the backseat where Jack’s empty carseat sat.

“Shit,” he muttered, sinking in his seat and rubbing his eyes. “Thought we were pros at this after a year of preschool.”

“Guess not,” Cas said. He produced a tissue box out of thin air and handed one to Dean, then blew his own nose.

“Alright, enough,” Dean said, swiping at his nose and balling up the tissue. “Enough crying. He’s going to kindergarten, not off to war.”

Cas nodded and determined, Dean pulled out of the parking lot. He and Cas had taken the day off, which in hindsight was the wrong move because now they had too much time on their hands. Trying to distract themselves with errands didn’t help either because everything suddenly reminded them of Jack.

They went to the local gardening center, where Cas stroked the daisy petals with a soft look in his eyes. “I should buy some for Jack.”

And then the bakery: “We gotta have snacks when he comes home,” Dean told Cas, selecting a dozen donuts.

And, stopping at the street taco food truck downtown: “Jack’s eating lunch now,” Cas said, checking the time, the mournful look on his face not matching the delicious taco in his hand. “And then recess.”

“Hope he’s made friends,” Dean said, his own taco suddenly tasting flavorless.

“He will. He’s very friendly.” One tear dripped into his guacamole.

“For fuck’s sake,” Dean said, gathering up the remainders of his food. “Come on.”

The school yard was alive with kids yelling, laughing, swinging, playing hopscotch, and skipping rope. Dean idled close to the curb, scanning the yard through the fence. He was well aware that he and Cas looked extremely suspicious now, but he hoped the school parking pass hanging from the rearview mirror helped prove they weren't creeps. Just overly protective parents. Which was only a bit better.

“There he is!” Cas said, pointing out his window. Dean leaned over him to see Jack jumping over a hopscotch chalk drawing. One foot, two feet, one foot, two. Reaching the end, another kid high-fived him and Jack beamed. He cheered as someone else went through the course, then, the game abandoned, Jack ran with the others to the swings.

He swung higher and higher, cowboy boots kicking into the air. Dean was pretty sure he could hear his laughter rising above everyone else’s.

“We’re being stupid,” Dean realized. Cas looked at him. “He’s fine. He’s doing great. We don’t have to worry, we just gotta let him do his thing.”

Cas looked back at Jack, then took a deep breath. “You’re right.” The bell rang and Jack slowed his swing, jumped off, and joined the kids headed inside.

Determinedly facing forward, Cas said, “Alright. He’s got this.”

“We got this,” Dean amended, and Cas smiled.

“We got this.”

***

“DAD!” Jack ran full force to Dean, crashing against his legs. Before Dean could recover, Jack turned to Cas, who crouched down and took him into his arms, nearly getting knocked down in the process. He held onto him tightly, shutting his eyes as he buried his face into Jack’s shoulder.

“I missed you,” he said.

“I missed you too,” Jack said, extricating himself from his grip to hold up a slightly crinkled piece of paper. “I drew a brontosaurus!”

“That’s beautiful, Jack,” Cas said, admiring the drawing. “That’s going on the fridge.”

“Had a good day?” Dean asked. Around them, other kids streamed out of the school to waiting parents, and Jack nodded enthusiastically.

“The best!” He took Cas’ offered hand and told them about his day as they walked to the Impala. True to his word, he had remembered every detail, down to the amount of times he used the bathroom and the name of the lunch lady.

“And I got to swing at recess!” he told them, clambering into his carseat.

Dean and Cas caught each others’ eyes guiltily over the Impala’s roof. “I’m glad you had so much fun,” Cas told Jack, buckling him in.

“Thanks.” He swung his legs as they got into the front seat. “Did you have a good day?”

Cas glanced at Dean. There were plenty ways to answer that question. Looking back, though, seeing Jack bravely walking into school, being so independent, making friends…

"Missed you, but we managed,” Dean answered truthfully.

Cas smiled at Dean before twisting around to look at Jack. “We’re proud of you, Jack,” he told him, and Dean nodded.

“Did you cry?” Jack asked, eyes narrowing in suspicion. “Sam said you were going to cry. I didn’t cry.”

“Just a little,” Cas admitted. Dean snorted and Cas elbowed him. “Dean more than me.”

“Hey!” Dean protested.

Jack cackled. “I knew it!”

Dean shook his head, muttering about murdering Sam. Jack continued his recap of the day, and Dean resigned himself to getting stuck in after-school traffic for the next twenty minutes.

Leaning back in his seat, he grinned at Jack stumbling over his words in his excitement to share them. It was a good day.

[mouthfulloftoothpasterry]

Rambles about cowboy harry and yn pre babies please

STOP YES I LOVE

as much as I love talking about the cute babies I lvoe talking about just them too 😔 because they are just the sweetest couple

Ugh I feel like I’ve talked about everything I could ever possibly talk about with them

But that is so wrong

Let’s talk about the day y/n finally moved in with him

Because if you don’t know, Harry originally worked around y/n’s fathers farm and was kind of friends with her dad, and that’s how they met

So once the word got out to her family (his family definitely already knew because he wouldn’t shut up about this girl) they were already together for id day about a year

And they were in their early twenties so it was the appropriate time for them to be able to live with each other

So after weeks of convincing y/n finally caved and said she would move in with him

So he drove over to her house in his old truck, loaded all her stuff into his truck and went back to his game so they could start unpacking

“Why did you bring a pillow? You know I’ve got pillows for us.”

“I just liked that one. It’s my favorite.”

“Then you better put that pillow case over this because white is not going to hold up in this house”

And he’s helping unpack obviously because it be rude if he didn’t… but he also likes looking through her stuff because he never really got to do it before

“Awe look, you were so damn cute as a baby. Those chubby cheeks are to die for”

“Put the baby book away”

“Hell no, we’ve gotta get some of these photos into frames.”

“Oh, why didn’t you tell me you have this?”

“Put the nightgown up!”

“But it’s a sexy night gown? You’ve never worn it for me”

“Because we fuck behind my daddy’s barn in the middle of the day”

*silence*

And he would be so excited once she was settled in because she was here, and it wasn’t just a sleepover

“Okay, so since it’s your first night here it kinda feels like a sleepover. Ran to town the other day and got those slimy things you’ve always got on your face on Sunday-“

“Face masks?”

“And I’ve got the notebook on dvd, along with some freshly washed blankets, and popcorn on the stove. Need anything else for a sleepover?”

“Lots of drama and maybe a bored game? Lots of junk food.”

“Well hell, you should’ve told me. I’ve only got monopoly.”

“I mean… that was mainly a joke but I’m down to play.”

And he shoves in the movie and stops her “wait, we’ve got t’get our pajamas on.” And he runs up the stairs all fast and comes back down in just a flannel robe “kay, m’finally ready. Y’comfy?”

And they half ass watch the film but mainly use it as background noise and talk over the film and eat the popcorn he made

And when he grabs the face masks he whines the whole time while she puts it on for him

And then they fall asleep just a little after and harry wakes up at about 3 am and takes her up to their room and tries to be so quiet so he doesn’t wake her

And once they are finally in the flow of living together they have their little routine

Once they get done working at the farm all day they come inside, make dinner together, after dinner they sit together and watch “their” show, whatever new episode is on that week and if it’s the days their show isn’t on then they watch whatever catches their eye, then go upstairs, shower (together if they are in the mood ofc 😢😢) get in pajamas and read a chapter of their books, maybe they are sharing the book depending on what it’s about and they take turns reading it each night and then normally they are asleep

And I think they would always go on walks together down the lawn when Harry had to go water the crops all the way at the end of the property

And if the walks just are just as nice as it was walking down then maybe just maybe Harry can skip checking up on the cow… because they are always fine and y/n needs a little more attention

[milkyway-writes]

i’m not ready for that s.r.

pairing: Steve Rogers x black!Reader (anyone could read though)

summary: Even though Steve has been living in modern times for a couple of years now, he still finds himself not used to the present, especially when it comes to women. But when he meets you, an outspoken girl who completely embodies the kind of woman “he’s not ready for,” Steve is forced to reevaluate what he wants.

warnings: 18+, explicit language, dry humping, unprotected sex, sex in a hotel room, a small age gap (but not mentioned much), probably some typos and/or bad grammar, disregard for card games and 60′s music

word count: 2,828

author’s note: This is my first time writing a fic! So, tell me what you think and if you’d like more stuff from me. 

After waking up in a world filled with people dressed in unfamiliar clothing, using confusing language, and carrying around these tiny devices they called “phones,” Steve experienced the expected amount of disassociation. He said things which earned him weird looks, struggled to understand modern references, and sometimes secretly wished he could just go back to his own time. 

But if anything, Steve Rogers was determined. 

He kept a notepad to track the new things he learned and reviewed them in his spare time. He made an effort to listen to the radio and watch popular TV shows. Steve even managed to tailor his wardrobe to a certain degree. Except for the khakis. The khakis were essential. 

Despite his acclimation and newfound understanding of the 21st century, Steve still struggled with women. And in all honesty, he doesn’t even feel that open to dating. He’s completely content with simply working and living his life, romance not much of a priority of his. 

But Natasha keeps pushing it. 

“What about that girl from accounting?” she says, “Laura, Lisa…”

"Lillian,” Steve answers, “lip piercing, right?" 

"Yeah, she's cute."

"Yeah, I'm not ready for that.”

•••••

So, when you show up with a total disregard for authority, a smile that could fool the devil, and a snarky attitude all complete with a cute little nose piercing, Steve doesn’t quite know what to do with you. 

Your words are much bolder than any woman he knew from the 40’s. You behave with a certain level of confidence and self-assuredness that it’s impossible to believe that you’re only in your twenties. And you don’t shy away from showing men up, never one to hold your tongue. Steve notices that you don’t mind interrupting people. You seem to get a glint in your eye each time he clenches his jaw after you’ve cut him off. 

Everything about you is overwhelming to Steve. 

Any time he tries to correct you, you scoff, blowing air through your plump lips. Always rolling those brown eyes in annoyance. (It makes Steve want to scream.)

Nothing is ever easy with you. There is always a rebuttal, or some type of teasing remark, or simply a look that tells him “you can’t tell me what to do.” It enrages him. Steve doesn’t think he has ever met a person who could find a way to fight him on every single thing.

Now, as he looks at you standing with your hands on your hips, freshly-manicured nails on display, Steve wonders how he’ll ever manage to get through to you.

•••••

You hadn’t known much about Captain America before you’d agreed to work with him and Natasha when S.H.I.E.L.D. started falling apart. 

You had been working for the agency for a while now, assisting in the capture of criminal individuals as a sort of immunity for your own crimes. Your skills were too valuable to waste, and honestly, they knew you’d escape any prison they put you in anyway. Despite this, you weren’t the most reliable. 

You often took risks, and your youth raised a sort of concern amongst other S.H.I.E.L.D. agents. No one trusted a girl whose main motivation to be an agent was to avoid prison. And because of this, Nick Fury did not bring you on for the Avengers Initiative right away. You needed time to grow, time to figure out your priorities. 

For two years, you focused on your development, learning how to control your abilities and use them most effectively, and in the meantime, you only took on small missions. You were happy with this, so happy that when Fury began reaching out to you with the intent to bring you back on for more advanced missions, you promptly avoided them.

One quiet afternoon, you were feeling the soil of your succulent, trying to figure out if the plant needed watering when you got the call that Nick Fury was pronounced dead. 

Immediately, your stomach dropped. 

Your mind was racing as you rushed to the hospital, hoping that this was all some sick joke. A test. Something Fury had comprised to teach you a lesson. 

Natasha noticed as you stood frozen at the door of the hospital room. Your heart ached seeing him lie there lifeless. 

While you pretended that you didn’t care about him, Fury had always been important to you. He had given you a second chance when you didn’t even think you deserved it. He saw potential in you when others saw you as a delinquent. This grief, coupled with the knowledge that S.H.I.E.L.D. had been compromised, led you to agree to work with Natasha and her new friend, Steve Rogers. 

•••••

Since the beginning, your presence had been an immediate concern to Steve. Along with your untamed attitude, he didn’t like the way you would make hasty decisions that left him wondering if you were still alive. He had to bite his tongue at your stubbornness. And each roll of your eyes pushed Steve further and further to the edge. After a while, he had had enough and pulled you to the side to express his disapproval. 

You stare at him expectantly with your hands still on your hips, waiting to hear why he’s singled you out.

He lets out a breath, “these antics of yours have got to stop.” 

You instantly laugh. Because he has to be kidding. 

It takes everything in him to remain calm when you flash him a smile and saunter away, throwing a “oh loosen up, Captain,” over your shoulder. 

He has to stop himself from watching your hips sway. He catches your wrist. “No. Not ‘loosen up.’ You need to be more responsible.”

“Well you need to understand that I’m not a soldier,” you yank your arm back. “I’ll follow your plan,” you offer, “but sometimes things don’t go as planned and we have to make adjustments,” you say, speaking slowly as if Steve’s a child. 

He steps closer, now towering over your small frame. “Your ‘adjustments’ almost always result in dangerous situations.”

“Really?” You cock your head to the side, “Is that right?”

He narrows his eyes at you.

“So, this is coming from the man who jumped out of an elevator?” Your perfectly arched eyebrow raises tauntingly. “Right?” 

You chuckle as he rolls his eyes. You don’t miss the hint of a smile in them. 

•••••

You do eventually try to be more of a team player, sticking to the plan when you can. You figured you’d be working with them more often, so it was in your best interest to make yourself easy to work with. Your efforts don’t go unnoticed.

Steve is grateful that you don’t pull any surprises when the Winter Soldier makes his attack. The revelation that it was his best friend already enough to throw him off. 

Surprisingly, when Steve decides to go after Bucky, you offer to join him and Sam. Your excuse being that you don’t trust two men to get the job done. 

Honestly, you just didn’t want to go back to your life before. Working with Steve was exciting. He was exciting. The way he’d catch your eyes after you’d say something snarky made your stomach flip because there was a hint of a threat in them.

You enjoyed the way he wasn’t afraid to touch you. He liked to grab your arm and pull you to him when you didn’t listen. He’d once backed you up against a wall when he thought you weren’t telling him the full story pertaining to the mission. And while he was angry, you couldn’t help wondering what it’d be like to have him take you right then and there.

You had come to terms with the fact that you wanted Steve Rogers. You just didn’t know if he’d want someone like you. You were aware that he probably hadn’t encountered many women like you in his past life. 

•••••

While your eye rolls and sassy comments do remain, Steve finds himself enjoying your presence despite himself. The struggle between the two of you slowly morphing into playful teasing, teetering the line between that and sexual tension.

“How’d you end up here anyway?” Steve asks as he lays down an ace of spades. 

You grimace and tuck your king of hearts back into your hand in embarrassment. “We’re on a mission, silly.” You giggle, the diamond in your nose catching the light.

“Mhm very funny,” he says. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

You don’t say anything. The only sound coming from your breathing and the Solomon Burke song that’s playing through your phone speaker.

You hum along as you pretend to search your hand for a card to play. 

Steve nudges your knee. You’re not sure if it’s because you haven’t answered him or because you still haven’t put down a card. 

“You mean how’d I end up doing this? Working for S.H.I.E.L.D.?”

He nods.

“It’s a long story,” you manage to let out.

“We’ve got time.”

You sigh and place your cards down on the mattress knowing you were gonna lose anyway. 

“A while back, I lost someone…someone very important to me,” you say, “and all I wanted was to hurt the people who took them from me.” You glance up to meet Steve’s eyes, “one thing led to another, and I sort of lost myself. I hurt people in ways I never intended to, caused the kind of pain that,” you search for the words, “that I had always been so afraid to feel.”

“I was so blinded by rage,” you shake your head, “I just completely forgot my morals.”

You feel the bed shift, and Steve reaches out for your hand. 

“Long story short, Fury offered me a job. Said I could use my skills for good. And next thing you know I’m going on these crazy missions and catching ‘bad guys,’” you say using finger quotes. 

You sigh, “you must think the absolute worst of me now, huh?” 

Steve chuckles, “no, not at all.” He pauses and his eyebrows crease. “It actually makes me respect you more.”

You let out a laugh, “well then, sir, you are most definitely twisted.”

He shrugs, “maybe I am.”

You notice that he never let go of your hand, and for a second you swear you feel a flutter in your abdomen. Lightly, you slide your fingers up his arm, tracing the veins. He doesn’t move or protest. Instead, he brings his other hand to rest on your knee. You look up at him as his hand moves from your knee up your thigh, gripping you firmly where your shorts end.

Steve looks at you for approval, and when you nod, he pulls you in by your hips and leans in, letting his lips ghost over yours.

You haven’t felt like this in awhile, and it takes a lot of strength to hold back a whine. Steve continues to tease you, only letting his lips lightly touch yours while rubbing circles into your hips under your shirt. Impatiently, you link your hands together behind his head, and when you grasp the hair at the nape of his neck, Steve finally leans in, letting his lips press against yours. 

Almost instantly, you climb onto his lap, straddling him. The playing cards from earlier are hastily pushed aside as Steve scoots back, bringing you with him. 

His hands find your hips again as he sucks on your bottom lip. You softly grind into him, causing Steve to groan into your mouth. He works to control himself. He hadn’t expected it to feel this way with you. So desperate, so needing.

You can feel his hardness through the material of his sweatpants, making your arousal even more apparent.

Steve leans down to kiss your neck. The feeling of his tongue makes you buck your hips, searching for some type of friction. His hand travels up your side and comes to cup one of your breasts. He runs his thumb over your nipple, feeling it harden. 

This must give him an idea as he moves to pull your shirt over your head. He grabs you again and takes your nipple in his mouth. You moan, continuing to grind onto him as his hands cup your ass. At this point, you’re sure that your arousal is leaking through your shorts.

Steve feels completely lost in you, your body setting him on fire and awaking something within him he doesn’t think he’s ever felt before. 

He continues his assault on your breasts as you fight to control your arousal. You feel his cock twitch under you. “Please, Steve,” you say breathlessly.

“Please what?” He mumbles around your breasts.

“I need you.” 

Those seem to be the words he needed as Steve promptly flips you over, roughly yanking your shorts down. He tosses his shirt off as you grab onto the waistband of his pants, urging him to take them off. He pushes you back on the bed, leaning over you. You feel his knee press into your cunt and let out a moan. 

Steve grabs your face, kissing you sloppily, and trails his hand down your body. You nearly grind onto his hand as he places his thumb over your clit and rubs slow circles over it. 

“You like that, honey?” He teases as he rubs you over your panties. 

You nod, biting your lip. 

He grabs your chin, “I said do you like it? Answer me.”

You cry out, “yes, Steve yes,” You whimper, “please I need more.” 

He scoffs, “who would’ve thought to get you to act right, I’d just have to play with this pretty pussy?”

You let out a pitiful whine. 

“Now you wanna be a good girl huh?”

You’re afraid you’re going to cum just from his words when he stops and drags your panties down so slowly that you want to scream. The smug look on Steve’s face makes your face burn. He’s enjoying this too much. 

Once they’re off, Steve settles between your thighs, making you look him in the eyes before reaching his hand down and dragging the head of his cock from your folds to your clit. You moan as he gently taps it against your clit a few times and makes a comment about how wet you are. There’s a hint of a smirk on his face as he lines himself up at your entrance. Steve groans as he eases into you. You wrap your legs around his waist, encouraging him to go deeper.

He bottoms out, and you both moan. Steve begins to thrust, and you’re already so worked up that you know you won’t last long. He brings his hand down to rub your clit causing you to cry out. 

His thrusts become more forceful. Your eyes close tightly, your sharp nails digging into his shoulders. He leans his forehead against yours, “I know you want it, sweetheart. I know you wanna cum.” 

His words shock you but send a wave of pleasure straight to your core. 

“Come on, honey, cum for me.” Steve says as he thrusts into you. Your walls spasm around his cock, causing him to groan into your neck. He never lets up on his thrusts though, continuing to slam into you as your first orgasm ripples through your body.

“You feel so good around my cock, baby,” he brings a hand up to lightly wrap around your neck.

You groan in response feeling your abdomen tighten once again.

You can tell Steve is close now, his thrusts becoming frantic and rushed. You clutch onto him as the sounds of slapping skin fill the room. Your name falling off of his lips repeatedly in your ear.

“Cum inside me, Steve,” you plead, “I wanna feel you.” He groans at your words, and you feel his hand tighten around your throat. You look at him, and his eyes are dark with lust, you feel yourself clench around his length. The look he’s giving you fills you with a primal need. You plead one more time, pushing Steve over the edge. His thrusts begin to slow, the feeling of him filling you up is enough to bring about another orgasm.

You find it difficult to keep your eyes open. Sleep begins to take you, and you drift off with Steve guiding you to lay your head on his chest. 

With one hand caressing the side of your head, Steve stares up at the ceiling of the hotel room, Nina Simone’s voice floating out of your phone. 

“It’s a new dawn, it’s a new day, it’s a new life for me,”

“And I’m feeling good.”

•••••

Initially, seeing a girl like you would have made Steve doubt himself.

But now, he knows he’s ready for you as he sits next to you holding your hand as you prepare to get your first tattoo.

[bibbawrites]

Family Ties - Charlie Gillespie x Reader (16+)

Request: Can you please do one where either Charlie is meeting your family or you’re meeting his and he keeps trying to be touchy/wanting to have sex but you/him don’t want to get caught xx

Word Count: 1721 words 

Summary: your annual family trip gets a little bit more hands on when your boyfriend Charlie and his family join you

Warnings: heavy makeout, touching, a little bit of grinding, swearing, mentioned and implied sex 

A/N: sorry if this editing is shit my brain is not working lol  hopefully y’all like this one, ive been debating on rewriting it for what feels like years but fuck it i dont have that motivation lol  also idk if theres beaches in canada like what we have here in aus but if there isnt oh well in this fictional version of canada they have aussie beaches  anyways, enjoy! 

Tag List:  @happinessinthedarkesttimes​​ @littlemissaddict​​ @vicesvsvirtuesfanfic​​ @headheartbellarke​​ @lovesanimals​​ @bartok-the-magnificent​​ @juliefromaustralia @multi-universe21 @rangerelik @kaitieskidmore1 @katrina765​​ @fandomxreaders​​​ @ifilwtmfc

It had all started when you had jokingly suggested that you should invite your boyfriend Charlie and his family along on your annual family trip to the beach. Your mother had agreed, and before you knew it she was on the phone to Charlie’s mother working the whole plan out. 

Your family lives in Quebec, and Charlie’s in Dieppe, so your mum’s quickly decided that your family would drive to his house, and then the two families would continue the rest of the way together.

So that’s how you ended up in your dad’s old truck, pulling into the driveway of the Gillespie house at 6am in the morning after almost 8 hours of driving.

You jumped out quickly, wanting to get away from your brother’s annoying rap music and your sister’s constant whining about being bored as quickly as you could. The front door of Charlie’s house swung open and within a few seconds you were being pulled into the arms of your boyfriend, inhaling his familiar scent.

“God I missed you.” He murmured into your shoulder and you grinned.

“I missed you more handsome.” You replied, exchanging a soft kiss. 

Charlie’s family joined him outside and after a few quick introductions, you were on your way to the beach, this time tucked away in the passenger’s seat of Charlie’s car. 

- 

Once you arrived your families spent the day at the beach, and Charlie couldn’t keep his hands off of you. By the time you finally headed off to bed you were certain that every other person in the house was sick of his touchy behaviour. 

You made yourself comfortable on the bed, watching Charlie as he entered the room, shutting the door behind him. 

“I don’t think your dad likes me that much.” He said with a giggle, flopping down onto the bed. You rolled over to look at him.

“He’d like you a lot more if you stopped looking at me and touching me like you want to fuck me at every free moment you have.” You stated, and a light blush appeared on Charlie’s cheeks.

“You think he noticed that?” He asked, pressing his nose against yours.

“I can’t imagine he wouldn’t. You haven’t been subtle at all. We’ve only been here for the day and you’ve tried to jump me three times and that’s not even counting the shower sex.” He grinned cheekily at your words.

“I can’t help it, you’re just so hot.” He whined, and you rolled your eyes.

“But we’re on a holiday with both of our families. You gotta tone down the horny.” You said. He sighed dramatically.

“Fine, I’ll try to be better tomorrow. But for now, we’re all alone... and it’s our first night...” He trailed off, pouting, his eyes dark with lust. You nodded once and that was all the consent he needed, crashing his lips against yours and making quick work of climbing on top of you and sliding his tongue into your mouth.

You moaned, your fingers scraping down his back as he grinded his hips into yours. 

“Fuck.” You mumbled against his lips, your hands finding a place in his hair. You tugged lightly on his hair causing him to moan into your mouth. 

“Hey Y/N?” Your mum’s voice called. 

“Shit.” You exclaimed, pushing Charlie off you. Not expecting the reaction, he jumped slightly, falling off the edge of the bed with a thud. 

You giggled as your mum opened the door, frowning as she took in the sight. 

“Charlie, why are you on the floor?” She questioned. You laughed harder. 

“Fell.” He replied simply, rolling over to stand up, climbing back onto the bed. 

“What’s up Mum?” You asked, hoping that you didn’t look like you had been making out with your boyfriend only moments ago. 

“Did you remember to grab the bag of board games? We were going to play Monopoly.” She said, leaning against the door. You nodded. 

“I put it in the little den room.” You told her and she smiled. 

“Thanks Hon, you two are welcome to join us if you’d like.” She invited. Charlie shook his head. 

“We’re good thanks Mrs Y/L/N. My mum is scary good at Monopoly so I’d rather not lose to her again.” He grinned and your mum returned the smile. 

“Well the offer is there if you want it.” She said, before leaving the room. You let out a sigh of relief. 

“That was a close one.” You mumbled. Charlie nodded, leaning in to kiss you again. You pulled back, giving him an incredulous look. 

“Really? You’re still horny after being interrupted by my mum and monopoly?” You asked. Charlie pouted. 

“A bit.” He admitted. You rolled your eyes at him, pushing him away. He whined but gave in, curling up next to you instead. 

“Tomorrow night.” You said, flicking the tv on. Charlie snuggled his face into your upper back. 

“You promise?” He mumbled against your skin. You nodded. 

“I promise. But only if you’re good during the day.” You bargained. He thought for a moment before humming in agreement. 

“Deal.”

- 

“This is not being good.” You whispered to Charlie as his hand crawled up your thigh at lunch the next day. 

It was tradition for your family to get lunch at your favourite restaurant on the second day, and you had barely been there twenty minutes when Charlie started to get fidgety. 

“I’m not doing anything.” He lied, giving you an innocent smile. 

“Bullshit.” You muttered in reply, and Charlie shook his head, making a disapproving sound. 

“Language.” He faked disappointment. 

“Fuck you.” You rolled your eyes. He gave you a flirty smile. 

“Oh I wish you would.” He teased, his voice deepening slightly. 

“Charles.” You warned, and he sighed, sitting back up again, his hand returning to your knee. 

“Remember our deal?” You said quietly, and he nodded. 

“How could I forget, I’m so sexually frustrated I might explode.” He admitted. You stared at him in disbelief.  

“We literally had sex yesterday evening.” You whispered, your voice hushed. Charlie nodded, eyes wide. 

“Exactly! It’s almost been a whole 24 hours.” He sighed. 

“A whole 24 hours since what?” Meghan questioned, and you choked on a mouthful of fish, grabbing your glass of Coke quickly to wash it down. 

“None of your business.” Charlie retorted. “Stop eavesdropping.” 

“Don’t have private conversations around other people then.” Meghan bit back, but dropped the conversation anyway. Charlie gave you a relieved look. 

“That was close.” You muttered. 

“You’re telling me. Almost enough to get rid of the semi in my pants.” He winked and you hit his arm.

“Charles. Stop it.” You reprimanded. He grinned cheekily. 

“You love me.” He sung, placing a wet kiss on your cheek. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. 

“I’m reconsidering.” 

- 

“So what were you and Charlie discussing at lunch that was so private?” Meghan questioned, once you, her and your sister Isabella were alone sunbathing later that afternoon. You cringed slightly. 

“You don’t want to know.” You replied. 

“Oh god was it a sex thing?” Isabella gasped, and Meghan’s eyes widened in fear. You blushed. 

“I told you that you didn’t want to know.” You said simply, and they both squealed in disgust. 

“Do mum and dad know that you’re sleeping with Charlie?” Isabella asked after a pause. You rolled your eyes. 

“I’m a fully grown adult Bel, I don’t need parental permission to have sex with my boyfriend.” You told her. Meghan fake gagged. 

“Can we not talk about this? I do not want to think about my brother having sex.” She begged. You grinned slightly. 

“You were the one who brought it up.” You said. Meghan sighed. 

“If I’d known it was a sex thing I would have never.” She replied. 

“With Charlie it’s always a sex thing.” You answered. 

Meghan and Isabella groaned in unison as you giggled, flopping back into your chair. 

You really needed to get some girl friends who weren’t your sister and your boyfriend’s sister.

- 

“Was I good today?” Charlie questioned, jumping onto the bed next to you as you scrolled through Instagram that night. 

You put you phone down, pretending to think. 

“Well, you tried to tease me at lunch and then tried to discuss it, which then led to me having a very awkward conversation with our sisters about our sex life. So I’m gonna go with no.” You said. Charlie’s eyes widened. 

“Y/N!” He gasped. “You can’t do that to me.” 

“Why not? I told you to be good and you weren’t so that’s on you.” You replied, returning to scrolling on your phone. Charlie placed his head on your chest, pouting.

“But...” He trailed off. You raised an eyebrow.

“But what?” You questioned. He sighed loudly.

“But I’m so horny.” He complained. You rolled your eyes.

“That sounds like a you problem.” You replied.

“Baby.” Charlie whined, dragging out the ‘y’. “I’m gonna get blue balls, do you want that?” 

“You’ve got hands. And I know you know how to use them.” You said. He sat up, giving you his infamous puppy eyes.  

“Please?” He asked. You stared at him, not wiling to budge.

“Your sex drive is frankly disturbing Gillespie.” You told him.

“I know.” He agreed, batting his eyes at you. “Please?” 

You groaned.

“Fine.” You said. His eyes widened.

“Really?” He questioned, a grin appearing on his face.

“Yes. Quickly, before I change my mind.” You nodded. Charlie moved forward but paused.

“Wait.” He said. You frowned.

“What now?” You questioned, your tone clearly showing your exasperation. 

“You want to do this, right? I’m not making you do anything you don’t want to be doing?” He asked, suddenly serious, and your frown fell as your heart filled with love for the boy in front of you and the fact that he was still asking for consent despite how desperately horny he claimed to be. You lent in, kissing him gently. 

“I promise you’re not forcing me to do anything I don’t want to do.” You said softly.

“You’re sure?” He checked. You nodded. 

“Positive.” You reassured him. He grinned. 

“I love you.” He whispered, leaning closer. 

“I love you too.” You replied. 

And with that Charlie pulled you towards him, ready to show you just how much he really loved you. 

[damthosefandoms]

so like I always headcanon Dick and Jason’s relationship before Jason died to be really similar to my older brother and I’s relationship in which boredom = shenanigans so here’s some examples of the stupid shit we’ve gotten up to over the last twenty years that I think can apply to these two as well (also tumblr apparently decided to limit the word count on this post? which i didn't know was a thing? so there shall be more soon):

they run out to the grocery store to get dinner because no one’s home and it’s one of those classic “open the cabinet to see all the food in there and says there’s no food in this house because they don’t want that specific stuff” thing and when they’re leaving the store, Dick gets in the driver’s seat while Jason puts the grocery bags in the trunk and then when he goes to get in the passenger seat, Dick locks the door and then when jason lets go oh the door handle, Dick unlocks the car door. Jason goes to open it and Dick locks it again. This goes on for some time and people are staring

“what are you doing” “playing (literally any video game)” “...” “what?” “can I watch you play?” “no. get out of my room.”

five minutes later:

Bruce: “DICK, LET YOUR BROTHER WATCH YOU PLAY YOUR GAMEBOY.”

Jason: “it’s an Xbox, B. He hasn’t played gameboy since before he met me.”

Bruce: “it’s all the same.”

five minutes after that:

Dick: “dammit, you made me die!”

Jason: “but I’m just sitting here!”

Dick shoves Jason off his bed and Jason climbs up and sits on him and then they’re both getting in trouble

One of them will be sitting on the couch doing their thing, and the other will walk into the room, look at the many empty seats, and sit literally as close to his brother as he can without sitting on him just to annoy him. this ends with them kicking each other without getting off the couch and then at least one of them falls off and then ends up sitting on the other while screaming for Bruce or Alfred. it’s a vicious cycle and usually ends with someone accidentally kicking too hard

Jason accidentally heel-kicked Dick in the nose really hard during one of these incidents and gave him a bloody nose

Dick used to have to pick Jason up from school every so often because Alfred or Bruce was busy and bring him back to the Manor. 90% of the time he showed up late and because of this, had to park like around the corner from the school and would wait in the car so Jason had to walk farther than anyone else to get picked up.

I like to think Dick was like 18-21 when Jason was Robin, meaning that he was in college at the time. He only picked Jason up when he was home from school or in Gotham for “work” (aka vigilante stuff) so the reason he was late was because he slept in until like 2:00pm every day.

Jason’s school let out at 2:00, so naturally he was usually in the shower around the time Jason got home from school. Dick used to wake up five minutes before Jason’s school got out and just go straight there in his pajamas to go get him

Until the day where no one was home and Dick just straight up slept through his alarm and Jason had to walk home

To be fair, Jason did call Dick and wake him up, but he was so mad and petty that he just told Dick “don’t bother, I’m walking”

(this. this one is significantly more annoying for them because in the real life version, my house is only two miles from my high school and it’s a thirty minute walk home. and my grandma’s house was about halfway between there and I got a ride home from there but it doesn’t change the fact that I’m mad about it. Meanwhile Wayne Manor is probably not nearly that close to Gotham Academy and I feel very bad for Jason)

Dick liked to sleep in a lot back then and still does, but Jason was a bit of an early bird (ha) and Hates being late to things. A Lot. So there’s this one day where Jason has math class first period and he has a huge test first thing. And Dick has to take him to school that day. Jason wanted to go in early to get some tips on the test from the teacher and get in extra studying and told Dick they had to leave at least 7:20am so he could get there early. Dick woke up at 7:15am and they left at 7:45am and Jason got there five minutes late and got a D on the test. His other grades in the class were perfect so it didn’t hurt him too much, but he’s still mad about it to this day

(To be fair Jason also kind of makes Dick’s life pretty hard too and definitely fucks things up for him sometimes but this is based off me and my older brother and is basically unapologetically a lowkey vent post in disguise so if you think I remember any moments in my life where I screwed him over and make it apply to these boys you’re wrong because i can’t think of any off the top of my head and I’m not about to ask Adam to supply some or he’ll make fun of me for being on tumblr and making headcanons lmao but there are probably some out there. it’s definitely happened though. I just have a different perspective so I wouldn’t know them)

On that note, Jason does kind of. Get back at Dick by oh, you know, blowing up all of Bludhaven whole he was there that one time in the UTRH comic but that’s not what this post is about either

Jason has a habit of doing this thing where whenever Dick is in the kitchen, no matter what’s going on in their lives or what day it is or what time it is, he grabs an ice cube from the fridge and drops it down the back of Dick’s shirt

they cannot walk by each other in the hallway without shoving each other

(Tumblr is limiting word count on this post so WAIT! THERE'S MORE!)

[angel-anoetic]

*pops out of the void with a sharp thwack* Hey. Your writing is awesome and I'm trying desperately to ignore cannon right now. Could you do something with Foolish and Reader is the leader of this tribe who needed a place to live and is also very practical and when he's douting the point of his builds they're like "Of course they have a point we live here. ... And they bring you joy." And it's all very fluffy with Reader kicking Foolish's insecurities in the face? Thanks *drops into the void*

*waves* ayup! i love this and i will do my best to deliver! this request has so much energy, i love it. i think there will be implied feelings, but in general you can see this as plat or rom. thanks for the request!! *hunches over the computer for next three hours*

Don't forget to like to save and reblog to share!!

c!Foolish x gn!Reader - Savior

genre: /plat or /rom

warnings: none! (let me know if i missed something)

masterlist <3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You had guided your people for nearly three weeks. The desert stretched farther than some of them ever could have imagined. With each passing day, it became harder to feed them, provide them water, and offer reassurance that new land would be waiting for them come the next few days.

It was about 3 o'clock in the afternoon of the twenty-second day when you and your guards stumbled upon a man while looking for food or water. Well, man wouldn't be the right word to describe the one who stood before you. His eyes gleamed like that of emeralds, and he stood much taller and larger than anyone could really tell. His skin carried streaks of gold, and he had gills placed strategically around him. He carried a trident, which he proudly held up against you and your guardsmen.

"Who are you, and why are you so far out here?" He barked, the trident in his hands facing you headfirst.

Your guardsmen placed their weapons at stand-by towards him, ready to strike at a moment's notice.

You signaled them to stand down, then faced the person standing in front of you.

"I am Y/N, leader of the Trainquales. We do not mean to disturb you nor your land, we are simply searching for a new home, a place we can settle for a time. Who are you, stranger?"

He lowered his weapon, still gripping it tightly. "I am Foolish, Totem of Undying and...other titles. Excuse my aggression, I was caught off guard. It's not often I see people out here."

You chuckled and opened your arms. "Still, my apology stands. It has been so long since we've seen another face, especially like one of yourself. I ask you to follow us, so you may see my people, and join us tonight as we rest."

At this, he began to relax, the grip around his weapon loosening. He looked behind him, then past you. He nodded, the only confirmation you needed.

You began to walk back towards your people, guards the following suit, as Foolish stayed behind the crowd.

"You know, it would be nice to get to know you better. I am one or words rather than action, and I feel we have started on the wrong foot."

For a minute there was silence, then a heavy presence stood next to you.

"Thank you. Now, tell me, how long have you lived out here, alone?"

"Since as far back as I remember. To be fair, I have been around a long time. I'd say beyond 200 years, for sure. How long have you lead your people?"

"I could say the same as you. Except I barely took my position about 11 years ago, not long for someone like my people, but long enough to establish ourselves."

As you crossed the final hill, your people came into view. The burgundy tents glowed as the lanterns adorned them. Your people were like a rumble among the silence of the desert. Some stood around chatting, the mothers sat with the elders and listened to long told stories as children ran around chasing one another. Others were sat around a large campfire, enjoying a small meal, whatever could be spared. Laughing, whispers, giggles fill the cool night air.

You looked over to Foolish who was absolutely entrapped at the scene before him, his eyes glowing.

The night followed, with Foolish enjoying the nightlife of your people. He listened diligently to the stories and laughed along with the elders, even going as far as to play a game of tag with the children. The older kids followed him around, hoping for the chance to hold the trident.

As it came to an end with everyone heading to bed, you stood tall observing your people rest.

Foolish stood next to you, scanning the area.

"You mentioned earlier that you and your people were looking for a place to stay."

"Yes..."

"I think I can help."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day Foolish led you and your people to what he had told you was his summer home. He told you that he could help you and your people, offering shelter and the resources to help them establish themselves. What you hadn't expected was for there to be enough buildings for every family to have their own home.

There were some pre-established fields and in another section, the area was already cleared for new fields to be placed.

As everyone swarmed to pick a home for themselves you watched in amazement. This was exactly what you had been searching for, exactly what you had promised for them.

Foolish appeared by your side and you looked over to him. You placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently.

"Thank you so much. You really have no idea what this really means for us."

He smiled but the look he held within his eyes told you his feelings were indifferent.

"What's wrong?"

"I...I just fear that something like this is not enough. When I met you, I told you I was known by many names. One of those names...I'd rather forget. Since then, I've tried to forget and make up for what I can never take back. And these builds," He paused and looked to you, "for you and your people, I fear it's not enough."

You let out a small laugh. He looked at you, confused.

You couldn't help but let out a larger laugh.

"I am so-so sorry." You began to catch your breath and looked to Foolish who was smiling himself, still confused.

"Oh please, Foolish! You cannot be serious right now! Look at these buildings. There are so many, and they're so perfectly built that my people may finally have spaces of their own for once. You provided us fields, something we've not been able to keep since...decades ago."

A blush set over his features as he looked towards the buildings once more. They gleamed against the mid-day sun and your people rushed everywhere, settling in, tending to their new crops.

"Look, you have already done more in a night and day than I ever could have in a year. And I know you enjoy having them here. They love you, you bring joy to their hearts."

You have him a hug, which he gave back and smiled.

"Thank you."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

i hope this did your request justice!

[rosiehunterwolf]

There's Sand Everywhere!

(quick shoutout to @fires-of-ninjago for the title idea and inspiration for this- you remember that ask game where people suggested titles for fics and you had to come up with a story to go along with it? Well, he sent in this title, and I came up with this, and liked it so much that I screenshotted it and- here we are!)

Prompts: Summer and Heist

Word Count: 7,922

Characters: The whole gang (including Pixal) :)

Timeline: Between seasons 12 and 13

Trigger Warnings: none (holy shit that's never happened before-)

Summary: It was just supposed to be a day off. A simple beach day. But when your family consists of six ninja and a samurai, including a nindroid convinced he’s a detective, his reluctant sidekick, an aquaphobe, a girl who can command the sea, an unassuming teen who seems to attract every animal he crosses paths with, and a bunch of argumentative idiots, nothing is ever that easy.

Read on FFN.net

Read on Ao3

Tumblr work under the cut

“We,” Kai proclaimed, surveying the room, “Need a day off.”

Lloyd shrieked at the fire ninja’s sudden outburst, falling out of his chair. Jay broke into snickers, and Lloyd shot him a glare.

“Kai,” Zane sighed, “get off the table.”

Kai stuck his tongue out at the nindroid, but hopped down, anyway. “Look at you guys!” Kai waved his hands at the group for emphasis. Papers fluttered to the ground where Lloyd had knocked them in his fall, Jay and Nya were sitting on the ground, surrounded by stacks of books tall enough to be mistaken for some kind of fort, Pixal was gathering some of the papers that had gone everywhere, while Cole and Zane had only just paused in their task of boxing up and carrying crates to the far side of the room. “Filing documents and organizing? Boooring.”

“Tasks which you’ve been a big help with, by the way,” Lloyd grumbled, as Cole offered him a hand and pulled him to his feet. He turned back to the desk, shuffling papers off of the keyboard of his laptop, the screen filled with lines of script and dozens of files that made Kai's brain hurt just to look at.

Nya pushed her reading glasses up her nose. “Jay and I technically aren’t working. We chose to do this of our own free will.”

Kai rolled his eyes at her. “What kind of psychopaths read for fun?”

Jay kicked his leg out, aiming for Kai’s ankle, but Cole quickly stepped between them, stopping the conflict before it could escalate into anything worse.

“We’re not reading them, we’re sorting them in order from most potentially useful to least so. They’re mechanics and engineering books. You never know when they might come in handy in a pinch.”

“Oh, because that’s so much more interesting. If you guys wanna spend all your free time geeking out, fine, what do I care. But what about the rest of you? C’mon, Lloydster. You don’t really wanna spend your entire day doing this,” he gestured at the laptop and paper-strewn desk- “do you?”

“It’s not about whether or not I want to. This stuff is important, Kai.”

“Lloyd’s right,” Zane agreed. “With all the crazy missions we’ve been on lately, we’ve neglected all our paperwork, and taking care of the Monastery.”

“It’s because we’ve been gone so long that we need a break!” Kai argued. “We just got done saving the entire city from an evil video game AI! If that’s not worth celebrating, I don’t know what is.”

“Technically,” Nya remarked, not even glancing up from the book she was skimming, “That was Jay who did that.”

Kai spluttered, ignoring the smug look on Jay’s face. “Okay, yeah, but we helped! And what about Aspheera? Or the Never Realm? That was all of us. And we didn’t have time to properly recuperate from that before we got launched right into Prime Empire!”

Pixal’s brow furrowed. “Y’know, he has a point…”

A frown flitted across Zane’s face. “I suppose we have been working for a long time…”

“That’s what I’ve been saying! Come on, let’s do something fun.”

“Not video games,” Cole groaned. “Jay and I spent the last three days playing a Lava Zombies tournament, and I’m all gamed-out.”

“No, let’s actually go somewhere. Like the-”

“The library!” Jay pitched.

“Or the museum!” Zane suggested.

“No!” Kai snapped. “Man, you guys are so lame. I meant somewhere fun. We should go to-”

“The beach!” Nya cried suddenly, standing up so quickly that she sent a pile of books toppling over. “Brilliant idea, Kai!”

“Wait, no,” he yelped. “That’s not what I was going to-”

But no one heard him. They were already scrambling to their feet, murmuring excitedly to one another.

“Guys, wait!” he cried. “Why would you want to go to the beach? It’s all sandy, and wet, and-”

“Don’t worry, Kai,” Nya giggled, “we won’t let the ocean hurt you.”

“That’s not-” he felt himself turning red as the others laughed. “That’s not what I meant! I just thought… wouldn’t laser tag or something be a lot more fun?”

The others glanced at each other, uncertain. Zane stepped forward. “Let’s take a vote. All in favor of laser tag, raise your hands.”

Kai lifted his hand, but no one else did. He scowled at them.

“And all in favor of the beach?”

Six hands went up.

“Seems like we have a clear winner. Let’s get going, shall we?”

---

“Do you have the towels?”

“All here!”

“What about the sunscreen?”

“Hold on- Jay, did you grab the sunscreen?”

“What?”

Lloyd cupped his hands around his mouth, yelling louder. “Did you grab the sunscreen?”

“Oh yeah, it’s here! Wait, do you have my-”

“Your what?” Lloyd called, walking over to him, passing Pixal and Zane as they came out of the kitchen. The female nindroid sighed.

“Can’t anything get done around here without everyone making such a racket?”

“Nope,” Nya elbowed her playfully. “When you’ve been with these idiots as long as I have, you get used to it.”

Pixal’s eyes widened. “I can’t imagine ever being used to all this.”

Nya smiled. “Did I mention I’m slightly deaf?”

“We finished making the picnic,” Zane told her, holding out the basket he was carrying. “Is everyone ready to go?”

Nya eyed the guys, who were running around the Monastery, barely avoiding tripping over one another. “‘Ready’ is an overstatement.”

“Hold your horses, we’re almost done,” Cole grunted, heaving the large beach bag over to them. “Have a little faith in us, Nya.”

Nya put her hand on her hip, waiting- and a second later, there was a crashing sound followed by an angry chorus of yells from Kai, Lloyd, and Jay.

Cole grimaced, rubbing the back of his head. “Okay, maybe you’re right to not have any faith in us.”

---

After an intense, fifteen-minute argument about what mode of transportation they would take, they ended up deciding on the city bus, and finally, finally got out the door. The bus ride went off without a hitch, for once, (except for a brief panic about not having the proper change for the bus fare, but luckily Zane had a few extra dollars on him), and before Nya knew it, they were staking out an area on Ninjago City beach. She was beginning to think this could actually work out.

Maybe.

“Check out my abs, dude.”

“They’re the same as last time.”

“Are not! I’m way more shredded than last time we went swimming.”

“Okay, that’s just a straight-up lie. I saw you sneak that extra piece of pie last night.”

“You better not be disrespecting my muscles, Flat Stanley.”

“Hey! I’m way more muscly than I used to be.”

“Are you kidding? We call you ‘green bean’ for a reason, and it’s not just because you’re the green ninja. You’re a twig!”

“I’m a twig? Have you seen Jay?”

“Hey, don’t rope me into this, green machine, and, for your information, I weigh a whole fifteen pounds more than you!”

“Yeah, well, you’re also two years older than me!”

“I think the lesson we need to learn here is that neither of you have abs anywhere near as pronounced as mine-”

Zane sighed, rolling his eyes. “Here, guys,” he held out a pouch to the group, “this is a waterproof pouch, you can store all your valuables in here.”

They quickly filled the pouch with phones, watches, and wallets. However, as Lloyd pulled back, he tripped over Jay’s foot, and half the guys collapsed into a pile, groaning.

“Jay! Get your foot out of my face!”

“Right after you get your elbow out of my ribs!”

Nya turned away from them, shaking her head. Glancing at Pixal, she asked, “Wanna help me get set up?”

The nindroid nodded, and they pulled the large picnic blanket out of the bag, unfolding it to lay it across the sand.

“Lloyd Montgomery Garmadon,” Kai cried, “You get back here right this instant!”

Nya looked up from the blanket to see Kai running through the sand after Lloyd, his feet sinking into the sand with each step, making it difficult for him to retain his balance. He waved a bottle of sunscreen at the green ninja. “It’s sunny out today! And you know how easily you burn!”

“No way!” Lloyd whined. “You always make me stay out of the water for at least twenty minutes to let it set, and it’s way too hot for me to wait that long! I wanna go swimming now.”

Kai lunged for him, and Lloyd yelped, barely dodging out of the way.

“Over here, Lloyd!” Jay cried, already wading into the shallows of the ocean. “He won’t follow you into the water!”

Lloyd hurried after him, splashing up water as he went, accidentally splattering Kai and causing the red ninja to flinch back with a yelp. Sure enough, he froze at the water’s edge, glaring at Jay and Lloyd, where they stood, only about ten feet away, laughing at him.

Zane rubbed a hand over his face, sighing. “They’re both going to get skin cancer, aren’t they?”

“At the very least, they’re going to be bright red tomatoes,” Cole laughed. “Oh, it’s going to be a blast when they take showers.”

Zane stared at him, horrified. “Please don’t let Jay do that again. He had the worst blisters, last time-”

Cole held up his hands. “It was a joke, Zane! A joke!”

Zane narrowed his eyes and didn’t reply.

Nya laughed, grabbing Pixal’s hand. “Come on. Wanna go bodyboarding with me?”

Pixal glanced at her. “I don’t know how.”

“That’s fine.” Nya stepped on the board, flipping it up into her hand and handing it to Pixal, before grabbing a second one for herself. “I can teach you!”

“Thanks, Nya.”

As they walked down towards the shore, they passed Kai and Cole, who had finally managed to get Jay and Lloyd out of the water. Cole had his arms locked around Jay, preventing him from running away as Kai slathered sunscreen across his face. Lloyd was sitting in the sand beside him, pouting, his face already smeared in white.

Nya grinned at him. “Can you guys handle yourselves for twenty minutes if Pix and I go out bodyboarding?”

Lloyd stuck his tongue out at her, and Kai rolled his eyes. “We’ll be fine, Nya. I think you’re forgetting we save the city on a regular basis? We’re perfectly capable.”

Nya put a hand near Pixal’s ear, whispering loudly into it. “Betcha anything the beach will be on fire by the time we get back.”

The two ran off, giggling at the sight of Kai’s smoldering glare, before he could set them on fire.

---

To Kai’s credit, he did not set the beach on fire, or anything, for that matter, but when Nya and Pixal returned, they found him and Cole shoveling sand onto Zane, who was chest-deep by this point.

“Zane!” Pixal exclaimed. “Are you alright?”

“When Kai told me he had something fun to show me, this wasn’t quite what I had imagined.”

“Aww, come on Zane!” Kai grinned. “I’m having a great time.”

Pixal shook her head, and stepped forward, grabbing Zane’s hand and pulling him up, sending sand cascading down everywhere. Cole and Kai groaned.

“Aww, come on, Pix, that took forever!” Cole muttered.

“Yeah, we were gonna shape it into a mermaid tail. Don’t you know how funny that would’ve been?”

“Humor is subjective.” Zane rubbed at his wrists. “Augh, now I’m going to have sand in my gears for weeks.” Shooting a glare at Kai, he added, “I’ll remember this the next time you ditch your swimming lessons.”

“Hey!” Kai yelped. “That’s totally different! Sand is warm, and solid, and most importantly, not dangerous!”

“You could suffocate,” Zane pointed out.

Kai scowled. “You’re a nindroid, you wouldn’t have suffocated.”

“You’re related to an elemental master of water. You won’t drown.”

“Being related to a master of water and being a master of water are two very different things! I control fire, not water, I can’t do anything to protect myself.”

Cole rolled his eyes. “You’re so lame. Remind me again why we brought our friend with aquaphobia to the beach?”

“Technically,” Zane said, raising a finger, “the word you’re looking for is thalassophobia. Kai doesn’t fear water in general, only large bodies, such as-”

“It was his idea,” Nya interrupted. “If it weren’t for him, we’d still be at the Monastery, filing papers.”

“I never suggested the beach!” Kai snapped. “That was your idea!”

“Yeah, well, your suggestions were lame. The beach was the obvious choice.”

“Hey,” Pixal interjected, suddenly realizing they were missing a couple of people. “Where are Jay and Lloyd?”

Cole sighed, pointing up towards their stuff, where Jay and Lloyd were struggling with a large, yellow duck inflatable that was very much not inflated at the moment. Jay had his lips around the mouthpiece, his face red.

“Blow harder, Jay,” Lloyd insisted, hovering by his side. “You’re hardly doing anything!”

Jay pulled his head back, breathing out heavily as the redness faded from his cheeks. “I’d like to see you do better! You’d probably pass out after a minute.”

“Would not!” Lloyd snatched the floaty away from him, blowing hard into the mouthpiece, putting even less air into the floaty than Jay had. His face reddened as he huffed desperately, although he still wasn’t making much progress. After a few moments, Jay pulled it away from him.

“Okay, that’s enough. I don’t want you to actually pass out.”

Lloyd glared at him, panting. “I wasn’t… going to… pass out.”

Jay sighed, grabbing the inflatable and staring at what looked to be the eyes and a very flat, crumpled-looking beak. “At this rate, we’re never going to get Mr. Quackington blown up.”

Lloyd’s nose wrinkled. “Mr. Quackington?”

Jay blinked at him. “Yeah, that’s his name.”

“No, it’s not! His name is Mr. Waddles!”

“Mr. Waddles? What kind of juvenile name is that?”

“Oh, like Mr. Quackington is any better!”

“It is! It’s loads better!”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Is so!”

“It’s not!” Lloyd snapped, green energy sparking between his fingers. Jay glanced down at them thoughtfully. “Hey, what if…”

Lloyd was evidently catching on to Jay’s train of thought, his eyes lighting up. “We can use my powers to inflate Mr. Waddles!”

Jay narrowed his eyes. “Quackington.”

Lloyd bared his teeth, the small fangs glinting. “Waddles.”

Jay sighed. “Okay, whatever. We can use your powers to inflate Mr. Waddles.”

Lloyd grinned widely, whether about the promise of getting his inflated duck or having won the name debate with Jay, Pixal couldn’t tell. He held up a hand and formed a basketball-sized sphere of green energy. Jay’s eyes widened, and he held the mouthpiece up to the energy. Lloyd channeled it inside, watching with glee as the duck puffed up, the yellow plastic slowly tinging green, making the duck look like he was about to be sick.

Zane took a step forward, holding his hand out. “Lloyd, wait-”

There was a sharp snapping noise as the floaty popped, and Lloyd and Jay cried out in horror as the yellow pieces of plastic fluttered to the ground. Lloyd fell to his knees, gripping the busted plastic and wailing, and Jay landed next to him, crying, “No! Mr. Waddles, you were so young!”

“I can’t believe he’s really gone,” Lloyd sniffed. “He was my best friend in the whole world.”

Kai threw up his hands. “Great. You spend the last several years of your life looking out for him only to get replaced by his inflatable plastic duck.”

“Oookay,” Nya said, walking over to Jay and Lloyd and ushering them towards the picnic blanket. “Someone’s obviously been out in the sun too long. Go sit under the umbrella and let’s have something to eat.”

“Good idea,” Zane agreed. “I’m sure we’re all getting hungry. Jay, could you grab the picnic basket? It’s right behind you.”

The lightning ninja grabbed the basket, peering inside briefly as he carried it towards them. “I hope you brought the Pringles. I could really go for some of those right now- augh!”

Before anyone could stop him, Jay was falling to the ground, the basket flying out of his hands and landing sideways in the sand.

“Jay!” Kai cried. “Look what you’ve done to our picnic!”

“Hey! That was totally your fault! Why did you leave your shoes right in the middle of the sand, perfectly positioned for someone to trip over?”

“Why were you clumsy enough to get in the way of my shoes?”

“Guys, guys, it’s okay,” Zane assured. Walking over, he carefully lifted the basket out of the sand. “I’m sure it’s still salvageable.”

“Yeah, but now all our food is going to taste like sand,” Lloyd moaned.

“Lloyd, the food barely touched the sand,” Nya pointed out.

“Doesn’t matter. Every time you go to the beach, if the food gets even remotely close to the sand, it always gets sand in it. Every time. It’s one of the great mysteries of the universe.”

“Well, I think you’ll survive,” she said, passing Lloyd a sandwich and a bag of pretzels. Lloyd took them, but narrowed his eyes.

“Brings a whole new meaning to the word ‘sandwich.’”

“Just eat your food, mister.”

Lloyd shot her a glare, but grudgingly obliged. As Pixal bit into her own sandwich, she realized Lloyd was right, she could feel granules of sand between her teeth as she chewed.

“Hey… at least it adds a little crunch, right?” Cole grinned.

Kai grimaced. “Next time, I elect we don’t let Jay anywhere near the picnic basket.”

Jay chucked a grape at him, but Kai turned at the last second, catching it in his mouth. “Ha!” His gleeful expression faded as he caught sight of something behind Jay. “Um, Lloyd, you have someone you wanna introduce us to?”

The group turned to see a seagull had approached them, tilting its head where it stood only a couple feet away from Lloyd. The green ninja was staring at the bird with wide eyes, an awed expression on his face.

“Lloyd,” Nya sighed, “please don’t tell me you fed it.”

“He’s not an it,” Lloyd snapped. “His name is Scully.”

“Great.” Nya rubbed her hands over her face. “We’re already into name territory.”

“Scully?” Kai’s nose wrinkled. “Isn’t that the name of the seagull from The Little Mermaid?”

“No, that’s Scuttle,” Lloyd sniffed. “They’re completely different.”

“Lloyd,” Pixal scolded, reaching for Lloyd’s wrist just as he tossed another chunk of his sandwich at the seagull, “Feeding wildlife is not a good idea, it can be dangerous-”

Lloyd shrieked suddenly as the bird launched itself at Lloyd’s face. He scrambled to his feet, screaming, and Kai lunged forward, pushing the others out of the way. “Move, move!”

“Get it off me, get it off me!” Lloyd shrieked as the bird’s wings flapped in his face, sending feathers everywhere.

“Blast it with your powers!” Kai called, looking worried but keeping a respectable distance.

“I can’t! He’s on my face!”

“Well, I can’t do it, I’ll set you on fire! Nya, you do it!”

“I’m trying, I’m trying,” the water ninja spat through gritted teeth, globes of water already forming in her hands. “I just need to get a clear shot! For the love of… Lloyd, stop moving so much!”

Lloyd hardly seemed to hear her. “He’s going to claw my eyes out,” he wailed, batting weakly at the creature.

“Nya!”

Nya quickly thrust her hands forward, sending a large ball of water at Lloyd’s head, drenching him and the seagull. The bird squawked angrily, falling to the ground.

“Oh my gosh, are you okay?” Nya and Kai darted over to him, Nya taking his face in her hands as Kai peered over her shoulder. A small red scratch stretched across his left cheek, but apart from that, he appeared unharmed, just frazzled.

“Dude!” Kai cried. “You just got attacked. By a seagull!”

“It owned you!”

Lloyd shot Jay a glare. “Did not.”

“You should have seen your face!” Jay laughed. “Oh wait, you couldn’t- there was a bird in the way!”

Lloyd crossed his arms. “I’d like to remind you how you reacted that time when my uncle set that berserk chicken on us.”

“The chicken had lightning powers. Hardly comparable to a simple seafowl, bud.”

“Ugh, I hope this doesn’t get infected,” Nya muttered, running her finger along the scratch. “We should probably get you checked for rabies when we get home.”

“Nya, I’m fine,” Lloyd groaned, pushing her off. “A seagull isn’t going to give me rabies.”

Nya shrugged. “With your luck, I can never be sure.”

“This is why you don’t give food to wild animals, Lloyd, it makes them bolder-”

“Watch out, Lloyd!” Jay shrieked suddenly, and they whipped around to see the seagull had caught its second wind, squawking as it charged at Lloyd.

Lloyd shrieked, taking off down the beach with the seagull in pursuit. Nya sighed, putting a hand on her head. Kai grinned, walking over to her and putting a hand on her shoulder. “Do you think he’ll learn his lesson?”

“No,” Nya said without hesitation. “Absolutely not. That’s the sad part.”

“Hey,” Cole said, pointing a finger down the beach. “The volleyball court’s just opened up. You guys wanna play?”

“Sure. Tell Lloyd he can join us when he gets that seagull taken care of.”

Nya glanced towards the green ninja, who was currently lobbing balls of energy at the bird and missing by an embarrassingly wide berth. “Looks like it could be a while.”

---

“Great job, team!” Nya cheered, high-fiving Pixal and shooting a grin at Cole. “Although, if I’m being honest, the rest of you didn’t put up much of a competition.”

“Hey, don’t look at me!” Kai snapped. “I was carrying the team! Jay, Lloyd, were you planning on helping me anytime soon?”

“I was trying!” Jay insisted. “But you kept getting in my way!”

“Because every time I let you get the ball, you dropped it!”

“Hey! I never said I was good at volleyball, okay? Why are you attacking me, Lloyd sucked too!”

“It’s not like I ever had time to fit in volleyball practice between all my green ninja training! It wasn’t exactly a top priority!” “Are you telling me you’ve never played before?” Kai spluttered.

“I’ve played!” Lloyd insisted. “Uh… once or twice.”

Kai facepalmed. “Why did I let you come on my team?”

Lloyd grinned widely. “‘Cause you love me.”

Cole elbowed him. “It’s because he lost the coin toss and Nya got to pick first.”

“Hey!” Jay yelped. “Are you telling me you would have picked me last?”

“After I saw you play, yeah,” Cole snorted.

“I’m still not convinced on some of those calls, Zane,” Kai said, walking over to the nindriod. “I don’t think that one play near the third point was a foul.”

“Hey, the ref’s call is law,” Nya smirked. “Stop trying to cheat your way to victory, Kai.”

“I’m not cheating! Zane’s girlfriend is on your team! He’s obviously biased!”

“I’m a nindriod, Kai. I cannot be biased.”

“Stop being a sore loser, Kai.” Behind her, a wave swelled up. She raised her hand- then pointed it forward at Kai.

Her brother shrieked as the seawater drenched him.

“Nya! What’d you do that for?”

“You deserved it, with all the whining you were doing. Besides, you looked hot. I was just doing you a favor.”

“It’s alright,” Lloyd laughed. “You can share my towel, don’t worry.” As he handed Kai the towel, the fire ninja eyed it shrewdly.

“It’s got ducks on it. Of course it does.”

“Hey, you want the towel or not?”

“No, I’m taking the towel.” Kai wrapped the towel around himself, shivering, unfurling the ducks for all to see. Cole snickered, and Kai shot him a glare.

“Should we pack up, then?”

Zane nodded. “If we want to be back in time for dinner, probably.”

The team trudged back to their blanket, wet and sandy, but chatting amiably. They had nearly packed up all their things when Lloyd cried out suddenly.

“Where’s my wallet?”

Zane frowned. “Didn’t you put it in the valuables pouch?”

“I thought I did, but…” he paused. “Oh, wait. I tripped over Jay. I must’ve forgotten to put it in after that.”

“Well, then, it’s gotta be around here somewhere. What color is it, Lloyd?”

“What do you think? Green.”

They spent a good ten minutes searching through their entire bag and the surrounding sand, to no avail. It quickly became clear that if Lloyd’s wallet had ever fallen around here in the first place, it wasn’t here now.

Kai shrugged. “Oh well. It’s not that big of a deal. You don’t have any cards, and I don’t think you were carrying any of the cash. We can get you a new one.”

“No, but I had the things in there!”

Cole frowned. “The things?”

“You know.” Lloyd lowered his voice. “The things. That the mayor gave us?”

“What?!” Jay yelped. “Those were in there?” “You lost them?” Kai cried. “Lloyd, how could you?”

“It’s not like I did it on purpose!” Kai groaned, rubbing his face. “We should’ve never trusted you with them. Or at least split them up, so they weren’t all together.”

“I still do not understand.” Pixal frowned. “What are these things that are so important?”

“They’re a top-secret gift from the mayor,” Jay whispered. “We’re not supposed to tell anyone we have them. Not that telling anyone now would matter anyway, because we don’t have them anymore.”

“It’s not my fault!” Lloyd insisted. “It’s that stupid seagull’s, he’s the one who distracted me-” Lloyd paused, his eyes widening. “That’s it! The seagull must’ve swiped my wallet when it was chasing me!”

“Looks like we have a lead,” Kai growled.

“Wait a minute, does anyone else hear that mysterious music-”

“Oh no,” Pixal muttered, putting a hand on her forehead. “Zane, please don’t tell me you’re going to do this again.”

“It seemed that, after only a few weeks, it was time for me to crack yet another case.” The odd, deep voice rang out, and they turned to see Zane slipping on a fedora.

“Where did that even come from,” Pixal despaired. “I’m positive you didn’t bring that with you. Positive.”

“Again, I was to be accompanied by my trusty assistant, but this time, my highly trained ninja associates would also be coming along, all determined to reclaim what someone had stolen in the heist.”

Jay glanced between Pixal and Zane. “What is happening right now? Am I supposed to know what’s happening?”

Pixal shook her head. “It’s a long story. Just go with it.”

Zane tipped his hat down. “Already, we were off with a very promising lead. I suspected the culprit to be the feathered fiend that had been spotted lurking around at the scene of the crime only an hour prior.”

Kai snorted, placing a hand on Jay’s shoulder. “Oh, this is gold! Did you mess with his voice again, Jay?”

“No, I didn’t touch him! Pixal, you didn’t…”

She shook her head. “Believe me, I wouldn’t do this if you paid me. It was all him.”

Jay grinned. “What do we do next… detective Zane?” He and Kai simultaneously burst into laughter, leaning against each other for support.

Zane side-eyed them. “The primary suspect was as clear as a black bear in a snowstorm, yet the whereabouts of the creature were still unknown. It had vanished into thin air, without leaving so much as a trace in its stead.”

“Hey,” Lloyd said suddenly, leaning down to pick something up off of the sand, “What about this?”

“It appeared to be part of the plumage of a species of avian native to these shores. Could it belong to the specimen we were looking for?”

Kai plucked the feather from Lloyd’s fingers, examining it. “The feather was white with a dark tip, definitely having originated from a seagull- although the spiked, disturbed edges implied that this was from no ordinary gull- it was from one who had recently been in a fight.”

Jay grinned. “It seemed like we had hit the jackpot. Already, we were one step closer to tracking down this culprit.”

Pixal groaned. “Don’t you two start, too. It was bad enough with just Zane.”

Nya grimaced. “Yeah, this is already getting annoying.”

“How is a feather going to tell us where the seagull is now?” Cole asked.

“I could sense the wind was blowing in from the northwest,” Zane narrated. “If we wanted to find the culprit of the caper, we would have to walk upwind, hopefully leading us to the source of the feather.”

“Alright,” Pixal sighed, “let’s get this over with.”

“And so,” Zane grinned, “The Great Gull Caper began.”

The team trudged up the beach for about twenty minutes, to no avail. They passed many other beachgoers, pointing and staring as the ninja passed, but no seagulls were in sight.

“Are you sure about this, Zane?” Pixal asked.

“The feathered suspect had gained an hour’s head start in its escape from the scene, meaning we would have to hasten our pace if we ever hoped to catch up.”

“Oh, I am not walking an hour just to find this thing. Are we sure it’s that important?”

“Yes!” the guys yelped in unison.

“It’s a very important gift from the mayor! It would be rude to lose it,” Jay said. “We have to get it back!”

“Couldn’t you just ask for another… whatever they are?”

“No! They’re one of a kind!” “Well, can we at least hurry this up? Frankly, I’m getting quite tired of Zane’s shenanigans.”

Zane grinned at her. “Although she voiced her disapproval, my assistant knew the efficiency of my methods, as they had gotten us out of a pinch the last time things had been amok.”

“First of all, I was the one who successfully found Dyer last time. You just ended up getting caught.”

“Perhaps, but you used my techniques.”

Pixal huffed. “Second, I don’t appreciate that you keep calling me your assistant. If anything, we’re partners!”

Zane adjusted his fedora. “So it was a promotion she was after, eh? Well, if my assistant could prove her worth by properly complying with my techniques in this case, she may find herself with a loftier position in the future.”

Pixal sighed. “Whatever. Let’s just find the stupid bird, and go.”

The group trekked after Zane again, and Pixal wondered how long they would be here, when Zane suddenly stopped, causing half of the gang to crash into him.

“What?” Jay yelped. “What’s wrong? Why’d we stop?”

Zane pointed near his feet. “It seemed like the culprit had been careless enough to leave behind tracks in the sand.”

Pixal peered over his shoulder. Sure enough, the tracks of some avian species left a trail in the sand- and after consulting her database, it appeared to match the foot of a seagull.

“We’re getting closer!” Cole said. “It has to be around here somewhere.”

Nya’s eyes went wide, and she pointed towards something in the distance. “Look!”

Down the beach, a large group of seagulls was flocking around a half-eaten pretzel, flapping their wings and squawking as they tried to push past each other.

“It could be any of them,” Lloyd despaired. “How are we going to know which one was the one who stole my wallet?”

Jay smirked. “There’s only one way to find out.”

Lloyd eyed him nervously. “How?”

“One seagull, in particular, has come to associate you with food. One seagull has been known to chase you down.”

“Oh,” Lloyd paled, taking a step back and waving his hands. “Oh, no, I do not like where this is heading…”

“Come on, Lloyd, do it for the team,” Cole pleaded.

“You are the one who lost them in the first place,” Kai agreed. “It’s only fair.”

Lloyd groaned. “Why do I let you bully me into these things?”

“Go on,” Nya gave him a gentle shove. “We don’t have all day!”

Sticking his tongue out at her, Lloyd stepped forward, towards the seagulls. Several of them looked his way, a few flapping their wings anxiously and squawking in warning. Lloyd stopped, swallowing.

“Um. Hey. I don’t suppose any of you have seen a green wallet around here?”

Jay rolled his eyes. “They can’t understand you. Get closer!”

“Okay! I’m going, jeez-” he broke off with a yelp as a seagull darted in front of him, nearly tripping him as he stepped on its tail.

The seagull shrieked, and, in a flurry of feathers, the flock broke into a frenzied panic. Lloyd’s eyes widened, and he cried out, running away and frantically ducking swooping seagulls.

He darted behind Kai as a last nervy seagull hopped after him. Kai held up a fist, which burst into flame, scaring the bird off. Kai glanced back at Lloyd, amusement sparkling in his dark eyes. “You okay, bud?”

Lloyd glared. “Don’t look at me like that. These birds are vicious!”

“Look!” Pixal pointed at a gull that had remained behind. With the others out of the way, she could see the small, green wallet between its beak.

“That’s the one!” Cole cried. “After it!”

For ninja, the group was embarrassingly unstealthy as they clamored after the bird, shooting elemental powers at it and screaming as they narrowly avoided each other’s blasts, so that by the time the seagull reached the water, the beach was a mess of crystalized sand, crevices in the ground, and various burn marks from fire, lightning, and energy.

“It’s a seagull!” Nya cried. “We’ve faced giant snakes, lords of darkness, elemental masters, Oni, more criminals and gangsters than I can count, and an evil video game AI, yet we can’t catch one measly seagull? It shouldn’t be this hard, you guys!”

“It’s getting away,” Jay cried, pointing at the bird, who had finally taken flight and was heading out over the ocean.

“No!” Lloyd moaned. “Now we’re never going to get it back!”

“Not on my watch,” Nya growled, racing past them towards the docks. “Come on!” “Oh no,” Kai groaned. “Nya Smith, whatever you are thinking, stop it right now, because I’m not doing it.” “Come on, Kai,” Lloyd insisted, grabbing his wrist and yanking him along. “We have to hurry!”

They raced after Nya, who was running down the dock towards a man who was examining the boats. Kai followed them more slowly, taking careful steps.

“Sir, we need to use a boat, right away! We’ll pay for it, we promise!”

The man shook his head. “Sorry, ma’am, but these are all private boats. The only one we have is that one,” he pointed to a small, worn-looking fishing boat, “and the motor’s broken, so it’s of no use to anyone.”

“It doesn’t matter, I can take care of that. Everyone, get in!”

“W-wait,” the man stuttered, looking flustered.

“We’ll bring it right back, I promise! Now, come on, we don’t have much time!”

“No!” Kai insisted, as everyone else piled in. “Nuh-uh. No way. Not in a million years. You are not bringing me out into the middle of the ocean in a tiny, crowded boat with a busted engine!”

“You don’t need an engine when you’ve got me!” Nya raised her hand, and the water swirled under the boat, rocking it slightly. “Now, come on, we don’t have time for this!” “Y’know what.” Kai took a couple of steps back from the boat. “I’m good. I’ll stay here. You guys have fun finding the wallet. I’ll cheer you on from the beach. The dry, dry beach.”

“Nope.” Cole reached forward, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him in. “This is your gift we’re saving, too. If you want to get part of it, you’re coming with.”

“Finally!” Nya huffed. The water rippled beneath them, and suddenly, it was propelling their boat, and they were off.

“Where’s the bird?” Nya asked. “Does anyone see it?” “Over there!” Cole pointed slightly towards their left, where the seagull was gliding away with surprising speed. Getting into the boat had slowed them down, and it had gotten a large head start.

Nya gritted her teeth. “Hold on.”

“Don’t go faster!” Kai yelped from where he huddled near the middle of the boat, protectively sandwiched between Lloyd and Cole. “If you tip this boat, I will never forgive you.”

“I know what I’m doing,” Nya growled, although the boat slowed slightly as they continued.

“Our team continued to chase the thief, determined to put an end to the Great Gull Caper and put the culprit to justice. Even when our path took us across the raging waters of the ocean, with nothing but a rusty, broken old boat, and deep, swirling waters around us, filled with the dark abyss and the creatures that lurked there…”

“You mean like sharks?” Lloyd perked, peering over the edge. “Did you see any? I wanna see one!”

“Nope,” Kai yelped, pulling himself into a ball as he sat down on the floor of the boat. “Nopety nope nope nope. I’m done. I’m outta here.”

“The prospect of sharks was a dire one, but one we were willing to take. We would get that wallet back, no matter the cost- even if it meant competition from this fierce predator of the sea.”

Kai screamed into his hands. “Just end me now!”

“What Zane means to say,” Pixal said, elbowing Zane sharply, “is that sharks are actually very off-put by the taste of human flesh, and do not go after humans on purpose.”

Kai stared at her. “Oh joy, now a shark can devour my flesh by accident, what a relief.”

“Do not worry, Kai,” she told him. “There is only one estimated death by shark per year in the greater Ninjago City area.”

“Knowing my luck,” Kai grumbled, “I’ll be that one.”

“Did anyone bring their phone with?” Lloyd asked. “I wanna get a good picture when the sharks come for Kai.”

“I call dibs on his katana,” Jay exclaimed. “Y’know, the super flashy one with the flaming dragon carved into the handle?”

Lloyd wrinkled his nose at him. “Why would you want a fire dragon on your katana? You’re the lightning ninja!”

“Hey, just because my element is lightning, doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate a super dope fire design when I see one-”

“Guys,” Cole sighed, pushing his way between the two arguing boys. “No one is getting eaten. We’re perfectly safe here, on this boat.”

“Cole’s right,” Pixal agreed. “The sharks around this area are smaller, reef dwellers, and won’t come after us. They may, however, come after our seagull friend if he gets too close to the water.”

Kai made a noise in the back of his throat, and Cole scowled at her. “Thanks for the help, Pix.”

“Nya,” Jay whined, “the seagull’s getting further away! We have to go faster!”

“Don’t!” Pixal cried. “This boat has not been manufactured to withstand a lot of weight. With seven people, especially when two of them are titanium, going too fast would be sure to capsize us.”

“I told you I should’ve stayed behind on the shore,” Kai wailed.

Lloyd leaned further over the edge, raising a hand to his forehead to keep the glare off of his face as he peered intently into the water. “Is… is that a shark?”

Kai stared at him. “Shut up. You’re just baiting.”

Lloyd shook his head, his eyes lighting up in a way that was not reassuring in the slightest. “I’m not! It’s a shark! It’s a real, live shark! I’ve never seen one this close before! Except at like, an aquarium!”

Kai closed his eyes, rocking himself gently. “You’re lying. You stupid liar, I hate you.”

Cole peered over, following Lloyd’s gaze, and promptly bit his lip. “You have got to be kidding me.”

“This is a dumb prank, you guys!” Kai was half-yelling by this point.

“Stop being so loud,” Lloyd hissed. “You’ll scare it!”

Kai blinked at him. “I’ll scare it?”

Lloyd crossed his arms. “A scared shark is an aggressive shark.”

Kai’s mouth snapped shut.

“I can’t believe this,” Cole muttered. “Did we really not bring any weapons?”

“No!” Lloyd yelped. “Cole, you wouldn’t!”

“I would if it kept us from being eaten.”

“For the last time, sharks don’t eat humans!”

Cole ignored him. “Well? Did we?”

Nya snorted. “Why would we bring weapons to the beach?”

“Hey, with how often this city gets attacked, I wouldn’t be surprised.”

Nya rolled her eyes. “It was supposed to be our day off.”

“It’s fine,” Pixal reported, keeping a careful eye on the shark. “It’s swimming away now. As long as we leave it alone, we’re safe.”

Kai frowned. “Looks like the gull isn’t so convinced, though.”

Pixal glanced up. Sure enough, the seagull was eyeing the shark nervously, pumping its wings as it flew higher and higher above the surface of the water.

“Do something!” Jay shrieked. “If we don’t stop it now, it’s going to get away for good!”

“Lloyd!” Nya cried. “Is your wallet waterproof?”

“What?”

“Just answer the question!” “Yes! Yes, it is!”

Nya gritted her teeth. “Hold on, everyone!”

Suddenly, a vast wave rose out of the water, looming over the seagull.

Kai’s eyes widened. “Nya, be careful, you’ll hit us too-”

But it was already too late, the wave crashing down, downing the seagull, and soaking them in saltwater. The team cried out, and Kai screamed, throwing his arms over his head in a futile attempt to protect himself. As they all tried to lurch away from the spray, the boat rocked precariously, and, for a horrifying moment, they were suspended there, on the point between balance and capsize.

And then that moment was over, and they were all falling into the ocean.

Pixal’s world immediately dimmed as she plunged into the water, quietness enveloping her like a blanket. For a moment, she was too shocked to do anything, until a foot thrashed past her face, snapping her out of her trance as she swam towards the surface.

A couple of feet before she reached it, a metal hand snatched her wrist and pulled her the rest of the way up.

“Pixal!” Zane cried, his detective voice dropped. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine. What about everyone else? Are we all here?”

Zane nodded his head behind her, and she turned to see the others all within a couple of feet. Cole had his hands on the now upside-down boat, trying to use his strength to push it over, but it was hard for him to get a good grip and stay afloat at the same time. Just behind him, Jay was spitting out a mouthful of seawater, sending ripples across the surface of the ocean as he treaded water. Lloyd was doing the same a couple of feet away, only the green ninja was struggling a lot more because of the arms wrapped tightly around his neck.

“Don’t let me go, Lloyd!” Kai yelped, although the feat would’ve been impossible even if Lloyd had wanted to- the fire ninja was clinging to him like a barnacle. “I can’t swim!”

Lloyd sighed. “I know that, Kai. It’s the only reason I’m letting you hold on to me like this.”

“I can’t believe this happened,” Kai cried. “We’re going to die out here. This is the worst day off ever.”

“Hey!” Lloyd snapped. “It’s not my fault this happened!”

Nya shot them all a sharp glare from where she was drifting alongside the boat. She didn’t even bother to tread water like the rest of them, instead using her powers to keep herself afloat. “It was going to work until you guys made such a big fuss about getting a little wet and tipped the boat.”

Cole sighed. “We’re not going to die. As soon as I get this right side up again, we’ll climb up and get out of here. Can you give me a hand, Zane?”

As the nindriod moved to help him, Kai suddenly went rigid.

“Lloyd,” he whispered.

“What, Kai?”

“Something just bumped my foot.”

“It’s probably just seaweed, Kai,” Lloyd sighed, looking down- and promptly froze.

“No one. Move.”

Jay squeezed his eyes shut. “Oh no, oh gosh, don’t tell me that’s what I think it is, this is not happening-”

“Jay, shut up,” Nya whispered, her face pale as she watched the dark shape lurking below them in the water.

“Everyone, stay calm,” Pixal murmured. “Don’t make any sudden movements and try to look it in the eyes.”

“Please, the last thing I’m gonna do is look at it,” Kai breathed, burying his face in Lloyd’s hair.

After a moment, the shark slowly swam past, losing interest.

“It doesn’t care about us,” Zane realized. “It wants the seagull.”

Several yards away, the gull was floating on the water, still trying to shake off the moisture from Nya’s wave. Suddenly realizing the danger it was in, the bird raised its wings- and launched itself into the air, just as fierce jaws snapped against empty air where the seagull had been less than a second ago.

Kai’s fingers dug tighter into Lloyd’s shoulders, and Pixal caught Jay biting his lip as he swallowed back a scream, but, its prey lost, the shark was already swimming away.

“Gotcha,” Nya murmured, reaching a hand out and snatching up the wallet, which the seagull had dropped in all the commotion, before it could sink to the bottom of the ocean.

“Okay. That’s great. We got it. Now can we get out of here?” Kai pleaded.

After a minute, they finally got the boat flipped over, and Cole hauled himself aboard before helping to lift the others. Ten minutes later, they were all safely out of the water and on their way back to the dock, and Pixal had never felt more relieved by the fact.

“So,” Jay asked, as the boat glided through the water, leaning closer to Nya. “Did they survive all that?”

“Let’s see,” Nya murmured, opening up Lloyd’s wallet. Pixal leaned forward, anxious to see what all the fuss had been about.

“Yes!” Jay cried, pulling out seven slips of paper. “They’re all here!”

“Wait.” Pixal snatched one from his hand, quickly scanning it. “A summer pass for free all-you-can-eat ice cream from the Dairy Dragon?”

“Yup,” Jay smiled, passing them out to the others. “The mayor gave them to us as a gift after we saved the city from Prime Empire. That’s what we were going to do today, after the beach, actually.”

“You’re telling me,” Pixal deadpanned. “That we just risked our lives. For free ice cream.”

“Free ice cream is free ice cream, Pix.”

“You’ll understand once you’ve tried their butter pecan,” Nya told her. “It’s to die for.”

“Butter pecan?” Jay spluttered. “No way, the Ninjapolitan is best.”

“You heathen, chocolate fudge is obviously the best flavor-”

“What are you guys talking about, mint chocolate chip is superior!”

“You just like it because it’s green.”

“Do not!”

“Do so!” Nya sighed, putting her head in her hands. “Here we go again.”

“Calm down, all of you,” Pixal said. “You can get whatever flavor of ice cream you want. Just do me a favor and try not to end up capsizing us in the middle of the ocean this time.”

Jay hummed. “No promises.”

[jaceyneedsabetterusername]

Sex Tape

Pairings: Johnny Depp x Reader

Request: “ If you take requests, would you consider doing johnny reaction to like theirs sex tape getting leaked? Reader may also be a celebrity or not. Whatever you prefer “ - @fanficshitandother 

Warnings: Mentions of sex but no actual smut

Word Count: 1800

A/N: Sorry this one is so short. I was having a harder time writing it than I thought I would. I hope you enjoy!

__________________________________

Shit. 

You knew this was a bad idea when he suggested it but no. He just had to have this video “for when he was away filming.” It always ended like this, though, right? It always started out as fun and games until bam! Celebrity sex tape leaked! 

The gossip talk show video that your best friend had sent you was still playing on your phone and you watched in silent horror as the red haired woman talked about your sex life to her male counterpart as if she had any actual right to have an opinion. In the top corner was a picture of you and Johnny at the red carpet for the premier of the Crimes of Grindelwald, his arm around your waist and both of you smiling for the paparazzi pictures. “Okay, guys. You are going to want to hear this,” She started, clasping her absurdly long acrylic-clad fingers together and holding onto her knees, “So there has been yet another sex tape leaked and I want you to guess who’s it is.” She looked over to her co-host. He had a push broom mustache that was bleached blonde to match his hair. 

The man hummed before waving his hand, which also donned long yellow acrylics, “I swear, Laurel, if this is another Kardashian or Paris Hilton tape, I’m gonna scream. That’s such old news.” 

“Actually, it’s someone that I certainly didn’t expect. Johnny Depp and his wife, Y/N L/N.” She dropped the news and the co-star’s mouth dropped. 

“Are you serious? Like Jack Sparrow, Sweeney Todd, Willy Wonka, Johnny Depp?” He asked in total shock, “I didn’t expect that either! But you know what? I feel like he’d be really good in bed.” 

He and Laurel both laughed, “You’re so bad!” She squealed, hitting him with the paper notes in her hand, “But, between you and me,” She leaned in, as if she was telling an actual secret that wasn’t being broadcast on the internet, “I did see it.” 

“And?” 

“It was pretty hot, I can’t lie. That Y/N is a very lucky girl indeed.” The pair giggled like a pair of school girls. 

You were absolutely mortified. How did this happen? How many people had seen it? Who had seen it? Oh God… all you could imagine was your family stumbling across the video or, debatably worse, Johnny’s kids. This had to be one of the worst moments of your life. 

You turned off the video and quickly dialed your husband. “Hello, love.” He greeted cheerily on the other end. The faint sound of cars passing in the background told you he was probably driving home from the meeting he had been at. 

“Did you see it? Did you hear it?” You asked frantically. 

“What?” He asked, confused.

“The video! The video got leaked!” You ran your fingers through your hair messily, sliding down the wall to sit on the floor. 

“What video?” He questioned, not sounding like he fully understood what had happened, but then you could almost feel the weight of realization falling on him, “Wait, our video?” 

“Yes! Our video!” You were yelling at this point, not at him but at the situation and thankfully he understood that. 

“Okay, okay. We’ll- Hang on my manager is calling. Probably to tell me about it. I’ll be home in five minutes. I love you.” He signed off your call quickly before hanging up without giving you the chance to respond. 

While you waited for him to get there, you spiraled down the rabbit hole that was the tabloids and social media. Your phone buzzed off the charts as everyone from your sister to Helena Bonham Carter called you to ask if you were okay. Of course, you weren’t. But it was one phone call from a former college roommate, Sheila, had really gotten your blood boiling. 

“It’s okay! If anything, this is just going to make you more famous! Look at all the other celebs who’ve had their sex tapes leaked. They’re like, super famous.” Sheila sounded more excited than she should have, which certainly made you question her motives behind calling you in the first place. Since marrying Johnny, you’d had the unfortunate displeasure of having to cut a few people off from your past who had randomly called you up after years of little to no contact, asking more favors in the movie industry, money, or even just for the clout of saying they knew you. There really was such a downside to this whole marrying famous person thing that nobody ever really talked about - not that you would take it back, though, of course. You loved Johnny more than anything. 

Still, when the words left her mouth, you felt a flash of anger swell up, “Contrary to what a lot of people might believe, being famous actually kind of sucks,” You spat angrily, “And call me crazy, but I don’t exactly feel thrilled at knowing the whole world as access to a video of my naked ass!” 

“At least it’s a good naked ass, though! Your boobs are looking pretty good too. Did you get them done?” She asked bluntly, still not a care to be heard in her voice. You swore you could almost detect a fake valley girl accent too. 

Your mouth dropped open in disbelief at the words coming from her voice, “I can’t believe you.” Without giving her a chance to respond, you clicked the off button before flipping her off through the screen, though you knew she couldn’t see it. The audacity of some people. 

The front door swung open, drawing your attention as Johnny hurried into the house, setting his bag down by the front door. “How bad is it?” You asked, knowing his manager must have told him the full extent. 

“Do you want the truth?” Johnny saw as panic and humiliation swept across your face, knowing that perhaps that wasn’t the best way to break it to you that it was pretty bad. He stepped forward and wrapped you in his arms, “I told Harrison to take ‘em down. Whenever he found one, he said he’d get it deleted. 

You sighed defeatedly, “That doesn’t stop the fact that a bunch of people already saw it.” Your arms wrapped around Johnny’s torso and you allowed your head to fall against his chest, trying to calm yourself with his scent- exotic spicy cologne and old books. 

His large hand came to stroke through your hair, “That is true,” He conceded with a heavy breath, “But, it also means that fewer and fewer people will continue to see it.” There was a pause in which neither of you said anything, only took a few minutes to hold onto each other while you thought about the future now, “Y’know, I can’t help but feel like this is partly my fault. I shouldn’t have asked to make the video. I’m sorry, Y/N.” 

You shook your head in disagreement, “I agreed to do it too. It’s on both of us. In retrospect, we should have put it on an actual VHS tape or something that would be more difficult to get into the tabloid’s hands.” 

You were tired of this - of this constant running from the vultures that prayed off your every misstep just to turn them against you and create headlining stories. You felt like you couldn’t even breathe without a scandal unless the media allowed it. You were just grateful that you happened to marry one of the most private actors in Hollywood, knowing that whatever pressure you felt, more public figures like Angelina Jolie had it much worse. Still, something inside you stirred, a decision that you’d stop living in fear. 

Johnny pulled back and gave you that infamous cocked eyebrow look of wonder, one that you’d mostly seen him use as Jack Sparrow. Little did everyone know, it was a gesture he’d picked up on doing in real life as well. “Do we even have a VHS player anymore?” 

You chuckled and buried your head back into his white shirt, “I don’t even know. I feel like there must be one laying around somewhere. And if not, I’ll go down to a pawn shop and pick one up just for you to use while filming.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean,” You leaned back, pulling on his shirt to bring him down closer to your level, “That if we’re going to be making you another one of these videos, it’s gonna be on something that stays only between us.” 

Your husband nearly choked on air, “Another one? After what just happened?” 

“Only if you want to and only if it stays on something physical like a CD or VHS that we can mutually agree to burn and destroy if anything happens.” You giggled and Johnny joined in with a low chuckle as well, “But… the video was leaked. We knew that was a risk when we made it. But, y’know what? I’m tired of living in fear of the paparazzi and public. They’ve already seen us fuck. There’s not much else we’ve got to lose.” 

His dark eyes flashed with mischief before he took off in a light jog down the hall without a word. You followed him, “Where are you going?” You giggled, turning the corner to find him digging through your little Harry Potter closet under the stairs. 

When he stood up, he shook his long hair out of his eyes messily and held up an old tape recorder that had to be at least twenty years old. Johnny swayed towards you, jokingly flirtatious as he spoke, “Well, Mrs. Depp, it would seem that you’re in luck because your husband likes to hoard old shit.” 

The grey and black machine seemed to stare at you and some hesitation set in again but then you remembered what you’d said: I’m tired of living in fear… there’s not much else we’ve got to lose. 

Johnny flicked open the side compartment and his eyes opened in surprise to find a tape still in there. He lifted it from the slide and looked it over, shocked to see that it appeared to be an unused blank tape, “Well, well, looks like we’re in luck.” 

Biting your lip, you looked up at him with those eyes before grabbing his hand and running upstairs to your bedroom, dragging him along. “The world thinks they’ve seen us fuck. They only got a preview.” 

“Only a preview? I thought we went pretty hard last time?” He countered with a low challenging laugh.

You turned around at the top of the stairs, one hand on the banister as you turned to face him. His body collided with yours, his hand reaching around the small of your back to steady the two of you and you arched your body into his, being sure to brush your body against his groin, “Oh, Johnny… we’re both throwing our backs out tonight.” 

[hwangsbbg]

Just a kiss - Yangyang

Synopsis : Yangyang and reader are best friends and they end up going further than just kissing in an attempt to check their kissing skills

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

"I'm not watching that movie another time" Yangyang complained as the two of you made your way to your house. It was a tradition for him to sleep over every Friday night and for you guys to do a movie marathon.

"But its a classic" You whined as you saw you were a couple steps away from reaching the front door.

"A classic we've watched literally a hundred times. Can't we watch one of my movies instead" He replied watching you open your front door.

"We can watch one of your movies, and one of mine. And if we can't get along on the last movie we can just play video games" You walked in your house, immediately making your way to your room.

"Are your parents not home?" He asked considering we'd always be greeted by them as soon as we entered the house.

"My dad travelled for work yesterday and my mom is visiting her parents. I told you this like ten minutes ago" You rolled your eyes.

"I forgot to listen" He grinned at you, following you into your room where both of you set your bags on the side of your room.

"Did you finish your homework for the weekend or are you gonna end up copying on me" He practically jumped next to you on the bed as he watched you remove your shoes, doing the same.

"I finished it during my free period this time" you replied, proudly, as you removed your cardigan, throwing it to the other side of the room.

"Wow! For once! You deserve an applause" He dramatically clapped for you. You rolled your eyes playfully.

"I'm gonna take a shower, you can go in after if you'd like" You walked towards the door that connected your room to your bathroom.

"Or I could always join you" He laughed making you laugh as well. You shook your head at him playfully before finally going in.

You finished rather quickly and when you were out you realized Yangyang was missing. You called his name while putting on a new pair of underwear and an oversized shirt he had actually given you.

"I'm coming! I'm grabbing some snacks" He replied from the kitchen as you set up the movie you wanted to watch on Netflix.

Yangyang walked in with a tray full of snack and grinned as soon as he saw the shirt you were wearing.

"You're wearing the shirt you stole from me" "You gave it to me" "Yeah after you wouldn't stop stealing it" He laughed, setting the tray on the table next to your bed and jumping in the bed next to you.

"Aren't you gonna take a shower" you questioned.

"Oh yeah" He remembered. You laughed as he stood up making his way to the bathroom. A few seconds later he walked out, shirtless.

"Can I use your shampoo" You definitely heard him, but your eyes were more focused on his bare upper body that was displayed before you and you couldn't think of anything else.

"Wh-What" "can I use the shampoo" he repeated his question, smirking at you.

"Y-Yeah of course" You finally managed to look up at him. He laughed at your reaction before walking back into the bathroom.

You laid down on the bed, quite embarrassed, making yourself comfortable as you scrolled through Instagram, waiting for him to come out and start the movie.

You were so focused on your phone however, you completely forgot about Yangyang who walked out of the bathroom and walked in on you laying down on your phone with half of your ass exposed by your shirt that had been lifted up.

He coughed a little trying to get your attention, and it worked, however you had no idea about your situation and you simply looked at him smiling.

The thoughts that crossed his head at that moment were far from innocent, certainly not the kind of thoughts you would have about your best friend.

When you turned your head, you noticed he was only wearing a new pair of pants but his abs were once again on full display and it was turning you on in ways you couldn't imagine.

You hadn't had sex ever since you broke up with your boyfriend last year and to say you were beyond sexually frustrated is an understatement. To add on to that you have an incredibly good looking man standing shitless in front of you. What would you expect.

Your eyes trailed up from his abs to his eyes to see he was staring at your ass and you quickly sat up, laughing nervously as he copied your actions, laughing as well.

"where's your shirt" You asked him as he took a seat next to you on the bed.

"I tried to put the AC on when you were showering and it isn't working, it's way too hot inside for the shirt I brought" He explained making you nod in understanding.

"I bet Talia would love to see you like this" You Spoke after a while, remembering the quirky girl who dared come up to you and tell you to back off of Yangyang.

"What do you mean" He looked genuinely confused which made the situation quite comic for you.

"You know Talia right?" "Which one" "The skinny brunette one with the green eyes" You explained and he instantly understood who he was.

"High heels Talia? The one who tried failing maths so I could tutor her" "Yeah! That one! She told me to back off her man because she thought we were dating"

"What did you say" He was almost dead laughing. "I told her I've done some things with her 'man' she couldn't even think of" You laughed seeing him become all read and remembering how she stormed off after hearing that.

"Why would you say it like that" He laughed even harder. "Because I was tired of her always thinking I'm 'stealing you away from her' and I mean we have done some pretty crazy things.. just not what she's probably thinking" you explained.

Yangyang shook his head at you playfully making you give him a suspicious look. You wouldn't dare believe it but you had to ask him.

"Why.. are you like into her" you didn't mean to make it sound so mean but it just came out that way.

"Why are you jealous" he teased you, laughing at your reaction. You frowned in response.

"Come on! You're the only girl in my life! You know that" He tackled you into a bear hug, holding you tightly before letting go. During those few seconds you managed to catch a strong whiff of your shampoo and body wash and you realized how he was shirtless and had to force your mind away from inappropriate thoughts.

"Ok but I also have a confession" He spoke up after a couple of seconds of silence. "What did you do" knowing Yangyang, he was capable of the craziest of things and him saying that scared you.

"I kinda did the same thing you did with him" Yangyang admitted, shocking you.

"What!? When? How? Where? Why?" you had so many questions. He gave a nervous laugh before explaining.

"So I was walking to my locker and he came over to me and asked if I had seen you. I told him yeah but I wasn't going to tell him where you were. Then he told me he just wants to explain himself"

You shook your head. He had cheated on you. What was there to explain. You stayed quiet however and let Yangyang continue his story.

"I told him there was nothing to explain and he said I had no business in this and asked me why I was even putting myself in you guys' business. So I told him I have my reasons. And he asked me if we were dating or fucking and that it had to be one of those" he paused.

"What did you say" you asked. You were aching to know the rest.

"I told him why not both and he got super pissed and left" Yangyang admitted making you burst out in laughter.

"You told him we were sleeping together and dating" You couldn't believe what you had just heard.

"Yeah. I mean I thought he would have realized I was lying considering you could sense my sexual frustration from miles away"

"Not at all Yangyang, if anything you give off playboy vibes" you replied making him blush a slight red color.

"No but seriously I mean with that smile and those abs, you have like half of the girls at school chasing after you" You didn't even realize your hand was on his thigh until you met his eyes and saw him looking at it.

"Sorry" You bashfully apologized. "It's okay" He breathed out.

"Anyways, why would you give off sexually frustrated vibes. Don't you like.. touch yourself"

Yes, it was quite an awkward conversation but you guys didn't mind talking about things like this and that was a great thing in your friendship.

"I mean yeah, but it's not the same thing as having sex" he replied as if it were something you should have known.

"But didn't you hook up with Violet at the party last week" "She tried to hook up with me but I didn't want to"

You were quite confused considering Violet was considered one of the hottest girls at school and he was sexually frustrated.

"So I haven't had sex in like five months" "I haven't had sex in like a year! I don't know why you're complaining" you rolled your eyes at him.

"That's cause you didn't want to. Every guy at school tried hooking up with you as well. Your ex boyfriend spread the rumor that you were a great kisser but even better in bed"

"Yeah I heard the rumor. It's not false so I didn't bother saying anything" you shrugged.

"So you're saying you're a great kisser" "Well I'm not denying it" "I bet your not as great of a kisser as I am" Yangyang teased you making you laugh.

"I could show you" You spoke jokingly but noticed the serious look on his face.

"I was joking" You made it clear before you saw him smirk and speak up.

"I bet you I'm a better kisser than you" he challenged you. Only he knew his true intentions and how competitive you could be.

"Bet on what Yangyang. Twenty bucks" You sparked up at he thought of the new challenge.

"Ok but if I win you have to grant my three wishes" he replied. You nodded, sure you weren't going to lose.

"But how do we test this, do I have to kiss one of the girls you kissed because they all suck to be honest" you spoke making him chuckle before replying.

"I mean it's just kissing we could just do it together and see for ourselves". You raised an eyebrow at him and he shrugged.

You obviously wanted to kiss him, all betting aside, so it didn't take much for you to agree. As soon as you replied with a 'yes', he moved his hand to rest on the bed, at your side and leaned in to kiss you.

It was a really soft kiss and it made your head dizzy. You hadn't been kissed like this in so long. Your lips moved together softly before he pulled away.

"I don't think we can determine who's the better kisser from just that" you used that as an excuse to continue doing what you were doing previously.

Yangyang smirked, kissing you once again, this time more passionately. You changed position, both kneeling on the bed without breaking the kiss.You could feel his hands, one of the back of your neck and the other around your waist.

He licked the bottom of your lip, asking for entrance. You teased him, denying it to him, wondering what he would do next.

He completely surprised you when he let his hand trail from your waist to one of your ass cheeks and squeezed it making you yelp and allowing him to enter his tongue.

He grinned into the kiss as your two tongues danced together, Yangyang taking the lead and dominating over you. You didn't mind his dominance though, you found it hot. Hot to the point where you could feel your underwear slowly getting soaked.

You let your hands rest on his abs as the kiss continued on for a while longer before you pulled away.

"Wow, the rumors are soo true" He let out, quite out of breath making you giggle.

"I didn't even show you half of what I know" You smirked, proudly, as you saw him bite his lip. He definitely wanted you as much as you wanted him.

"Can you show me more in that case" He asked. You smirked.

"Only if you admit I won the bet" "Who the fuck cares about the bet at this point" He replied. You couldn't agree more. Things were definitely not going to be the same after tonight.

You pushed him back so he was sitting on the bed before climbing up onto him, straddling him. Without wasting any time, you reattached your lips to his, instantly inserting your tongue in his mouth and letting it be guided by his tongue.

After a few seconds you pulled away, stared at him and reattached your lips to him, only this time to his neck. He let out a clearly involuntary moan as you sucked all over his neck and softly grinded on him.

You could clearly feel his member growing in his pants, right under you ass. You felt bad for the poor thing that wanted to break free from the clothes he was locked in. He grabbed your ass with both hands and began rubbing on it making you curse in pleasure.

You looked up to see Yangyang biting in his lip hard as you continued sucking on his neck. You moved your ass a little to grind into him again, making the both of you moan out of pleasure.

You made your way back to his mouth, reattaching your lips as you felt his hands trail under your shirt. You felt him smirk into the kiss as he discovered you weren't wearing a bra.

"Were you expecting this" He pulled away, biting his lip. "No, I just don't see the point in wearing a bra in my own house. Don't feel too special" You giggled, reconnecting your lips.

He let his hands play with your breasts under your shirts, squeezing on them before taking both nipples and squeezing those too.

You let out a rather loud moan, not really caring considering nobody else was home at this time.

He pulled away, tugging at your shirt and within a few seconds it was on the other side of the room. You watched him lick his lips before flipping you over so that you were laying in the bed with him on top of you.

"Fuck.. you're fucking hot" he praised you, attaching his lips to your neck this time as he grinded his erected member right on your core that was only covered by your panties.

"Fuckkk" you both moaned as he continued kissing all over your neck and collarbone before he began moving down, grabbing one of your nipples with his hand and taking the other in his mouth.

He sucked and licked around you, enjoying the sounds of your moans before moving to the next one. He reveled in the fact that he was the one making you feel this way as he continued kissing your lower stomach all the way to your panties.

"You might be the better kisser but you've never seen what I can do with my mouth" He smirked as he pulled away.

You looked at him in shock. Was he seriously talking about what you were thinking.

"Please show me" You weren't going to bother lying, you were desperate to see what he could do with his mouth beside speak a ton of language and say the weirdest shit.

"You don't even have to ask" he kissed between your thighs making you shiver in excitement as he neared closer and closer to you.

He reached towards the waistbands of your panties, using only a few fingers to pull them off and toss them next to him.

"Holy fuck" He groaned, wasting no in attaching his mouth to your core. He first kissed it, sending an intense feeling all through your body before he licked between your folds.

"Oh fuckkk Yangyang" you moaned as he continued licking up and down before he thrust his tongue in your hole making your knees buckle in pleasure.

He reached up and began rubbing on your clit as he continued thrusting in and out with his tongue. Your loud moans only further encouraging him.

You felt heat pool up in your stomach as he used his other hand to play with one of your nipples.

"Ah.. fuck.. I think I'm gonna come" you let out in short breaths and he sped up his actions. He removed his hand that was rubbing on your clit but it didn't matter as he went deeper with his tongue making his nose rub against your clit.

You reached your first orgasm and it was nothing less than pure bliss and your entire body shook.

You watched him smirk in satisfaction, admiring your naked body and replaying the orgasm he caused in his head.

"Can you take anymore babe" You don't know where the nickname came from nor did you care. It sounded so fucking hot and you felt so desperate for him. And you knew how he felt too.

He stood up, giving you he perfect few of his member that was clearly very hard inside his sweatpants.

You licked your lips, making your way over to him and helping him remove his sweatpants along with his boxers, finally freeing his hard on from the prison it was stuck in.

You stared at his impressive size before slowly grabbing hold of it. He let out a small groan at the feeling as you began to pump on it.

"I would return the favor but I really want you inside of me right now" You loved hearing his moans but you couldn't wait any longer.

"Fuck- if you keep saying things like that I won't be able to control myself" "I don't want you to" you replied making him chuckle in response.

"Shit- I don't have a condom" he groaned in frustration before you spoke up, announcing you had one.

"For surprises like this" you spoke once again after seeing the eyebrow raise he gave you. He opened your bedside drawer and was surprised to see all the different types of condoms you had stored in there.

"You just keep them in here knowing your parents could see them" he looked at you in confusion.

"My dad never comes into my room and my mom gave me these" You watched as he scanned over the different sizes before picking up a large one. Seeing his size, it didn't surprise you.

He ripped it open using his teeth and easily rolled it on before positioning himself at your entrance. You moaned, feeling only the tip enter you as your whole body was once again overwhelmed with pleasure.

"Fuck babygirl" he unconsciously let the pet name slip as he grabbed on to your waist, pushing further inside of you until he was fully in.

"Fuck Yangyang" you moaned loudly as he began moving slowly inside of you before he started picking up his pace.

"F-faster.. please" you managed to let out as he went even faster than before and your moans became more high pitched and frequent. You were already nearing your orgasm.

Your hands went to his back, before the rested in his shoulders and he hit your gspot with each and every thrust.

"Ugh.. I'm close babygirl" you could feel him twitching inside of you as your walls clenched around him and, like he had announced, he came.

He continued thrusting though until the pool of heat in your stomach spread to your entire body as you also released for the second time.

He rolled over, laying on the other side of the bed as he tried regaining his breath while you did the same.

"I can't believe that just happened" You would have never guessed your weekly sleepover would turn into probably the best sex you'd ever experienced.

"I'm so happy it did" he replied, finally free of the sexual frustration that was bothering him.

"I mean it was only a matter a time considering the way you stared at my abs earlier" He teased you making you laugh.

"It wasn't as bad as how you were staring at my ass" you replied, returning the favor.

"You got me on that one. Remember the favor you owe me" he reminded you of the amazing job he had done to you with his mouth.

"How can I forget. Remember the three wishes you have to grant me" you also reminded him of the bet he lost.

"I just made all your wishes come true but if you need me to show you again I will" He replied cheekily, making you giggle.

[tenderlyrenjun]

The One with the Halloween Party

summary: your best friend has a halloween party but all you want to do is make out with your secret fuck buddy

↛ ↛ ↛ best friend’s younger brother!Yanyang x older reader

↛ ↛ female reader, college au, mentions of alcohol, suggestive, halloween party, sneaky relationship, secret make out sessions in a closet, inspired by Monica and Chandler from F.R.I.E.N.D.S. (the one where phoebe hates pbs), the next part is going to be spicier (smut)

↛ word count: 7,6k; previously titled: “The One with the Best [Sex] I’ve Ever Had”

preview > part one > part two

It becomes exceedingly apparent that Ten never replaced the strike plate – the gold one, in the closet door by the front entrance of his apartment. He has been living here for two years and still has not replaced the locking mechanism. And you only really take notice because you feel it. The door opens way too easily. You are not even sure why you turn the handle, since the door opens so easily, so goddamn easily. Then, on top of that, the strike plate scratches your nose when you peek out the coatroom. You have to send prayers, begging for no one to hear you creak open the door or hear the squeak from your throat. And the spotlight effect theory, that Yangyang rambled on last week before his social psych midterm, comforts you somewhat, reminding you that all those cliché Halloween costumes in the living room are probably not attune to your indecency as you think they are. Maybe a quickie during Ten’s overcrowded Halloween party (although it was not this packed last year) was not the best decision. Especially, since your own cheerleading skirt, equally cliché, slips down your waist for the first time tonight, rather than riding up like it did minutes before. And you tiptoe back into the closet again, half-bent over to stop your outfit from completely falling off while pressing a hand to close the door as silently as possible. The thought of accidentally exposing yourself in front of all your friends is so embarrassing that your face heats up nearly enough to brighten the room, like a candle or 80s built house.

Right into Yangyang’s bare chest.

“Ow,” you mutter, palm protectively flying to your forehead. It did not hurt – bumping into him, but hopefully, covering some parts of your face understate the extent of this mortifying rendezvous. You take a baby step backward, then knock into the door and the tongue rattles, making you stiffen, making you freeze for a second. Yangyang puts his hands on your upper arms, rubbing them warm, as you look over your shoulder to verify that the door is still, in fact, closed. Both you and Yangyang are honestly incredibly lucky that no one caught you two, so when you confirm the locked door, your arms droop and you lull closer to Yangyang. Your eyes open after a second, and you jolt up again, realizing just how naked he is and how naked he is going to stay. You drag your nails down his pecs and ball your fingers into loose fists before completely breaking off him.

“Back up,” you whisper-shout, as if this command is part of some grand scheme.

Yangyang smirks, his smile curling wider. “I’m not the one touching someone’s rock hard abs.”

You want your glare to push him back, like your command, between all the jackets and superhero capes, but you get provoked by his cockiness. He was so much quieter and pliable when you first met. Now, you are the quiet, pliable one, or at least you are in this situation. Yet you bite at him – with your words, not your lips like his evil grin implies that he wants. “You wish.”

“That’s not what you said last night.” Yangyang approaches you, gauging your reaction until his breath ghosts over yours. And not seeing any actual restraint, he kisses the corner of your mouth teasingly, like it could start another round. Then he lowers his lips to your ear and whispers, “Or five minutes ago.” You wonder if he can feel your eye roll because he tries to change it from annoyed to turned on, sucking on the vein behind your ear.

And for that reason, you put a hand on his chest again, this time lower, on his stomach, specifically on his abs. His smirk broadens and his lips part again, aggravatingly making that clicking sound with his tongue, so you push on him. “Just –“ You pull your hand back to your face again, noticing the lack of change in warmth between his stomach and your face; maybe he is as embarrassed as you are, or turned on all over again. The latter is worse, probably, hopefully, not really. He looks really good and you just want to … You shake your head. “Wait a minute after I leave so this –“ You gesture between yourselves, touching his stomach again, then jerking away again. “- doesn’t look suspicious.”

Yangyang grabs your waist, sympathetically, although not entirely agreeing with your request. He tugs your bottoms over you ass and you expect him to retract immediately after, including the baby step that you asked for, but he only stops you from moving, keeping you locked in place – in place next to him. You roll your eyes again, unhooking his hands. Before you can completely detach, he interlocks your fingers and pushes you against the door, kissing you warmly.

Your head knocks into the door, loudly you think, and you stiffen again. Until his left hand travels behind your knee, up your thighs, and his lips open over yours, his tongue sliding next to yours. You stand on your toes, back curving into his embrace, off the extremely wiggly door, your arms hugging him closer as he pulls you up, pulls your clothes up. His right hand slides down your spine, thumbing at your waistband. This entire embrace is another persuasion, you note, and it usually works, like those mornings before AB Psych, but you two are in a closet, at a party, barely blocked by an unfastened doors that you are actually not sure is soundproof. So, you come down onto your heels and bring your hands to his chest again.

“Mmm mmm.” You shake your head off him. He trails you forward but you end the embrace, tightening your hands over the lapels, to close it, to close off his dumb attractive abs this time. “We have to get back.”

Yangyang pokes your personal bubble again, sliding his chest onto yours, and your arms stretch behind his neck, the closeness giving you some pressure on your boobs. He looks at you for a second, pupils scanning your eyes before he bends his neck on your, opening his mouth during an open mouth kiss.

“We’ve only been gone for a minute,” he seduces you, simultaneously sliding his tongue between your lips to prod at yours.

You slide your hands onto his face, comfortably holding his jaw in place as you look into his eyes, reinforcing your reasoning. “Try twenty.” You sigh, letting go of him. “I feel like such a bad guest. I haven’t even greeted the host yet.”

“Ten will be fine,” Yangyang reassures you, pushing past your fingertips to kiss you again. “Meanwhile –“ He kisses you deeply and you exhale, basically melting all over again. If he did not support you, you might have fallen onto the ground. God, he has some effect on you, and you cannot entirely describe it. “- I am not fine. You could greet me a little more enthusiastically.”

“I’m pretty sure you finished being so enthusiastic, a minute ago,” you scold. You square your hands over his shoulders and gently lean him off you, successfully separating him in the process, then reach for the doorknob. “We’re playing a risky game here, with the door unlocked.”

Yangyang slants forward, fusing you with the door. Your arm bends behind you, at your side, as he envelopes you, so he relaxes you again, taking down your elbow. You look at him with wide, pouting eyes, like that iPhone emoji. He can keep persuading you, effectively, and you will stay with him, but …

“Mmm mm,” you protest, pulling away. You hit your head on the door, hoping that it was not loud enough for someone to hear. “We – I really have to get going.”

Yangyang sighs, ceding, “Alright, fine.”

He beckons you out, looking away, flicking his wrist. And you wonder if he is actually complying. You look from him to the door, stuttering back to him. This would be the time for him to persuade you into staying again, and his gaze is devastating enough to convince you, but you really have to enter the party. As you grip the doorknob again, Yangyang hugs your back, clasping his hands like a belt over your skirt, and you can feel him pout into your shoulder, chin descending further into your skin. You placate him with a brief kiss to his knuckles – something chaste and fleeting, nothing like the fluttering in your heart. And since you cannot see his expression, you wonder if he actually enjoys these small acts of intimacy, of if he cringes; if he does cringe, then he is really good at hiding it, because you cannot perceive anything from him. Although, the moments in bed, in the most intimate hours, when the pads of his thumbs press into your lower back, you think that he feels it too.

Unfortunately, he cannot do that right now. And you head out the door first, straightening your direction over to the bar like a new arrival, or like someone who did not come to their best friend’s party just to make out with said best friend’s younger brother, or closest thing to a younger brother as he can get.

It only takes a few seconds for Yangyang to consider your goodbye, before completely rejecting it, then he groans into the empty closet, throwing his gaze at the ceiling. After, he pokes his head out the door, looking left and right like crossing the street, until the coast is clear for him to leave. When he rejoins the party, he instinctively searches for you among the cliques of cliché Halloween costumes. And he finds you, easily if he might add, at the bar, chatting with Jacob, probably about your matching basketball uniforms. Well, you wear a Trailblazer’s outfit and him a Jazz one – natural rivals but neither of you take it serious enough to start an argument in a semi-public setting.

Yangyang waits for you to leave the bar and meet up with Ten, interrupting his conversation to say hello. He nicks a capri sun from the fridge, then joins you right after with a bright smile on his face, middle fingers pressing into your lower back like a greeting wave. The act might have been offensive, had you been in a club and he a stranger, but he knows you, he likes you. And he smiles even wider when you relax into his hand. Nevertheless, Ten stands three feet away, putting the two of you on edge, and your spine straightens in the most attentive way possible, like you are a military subordinate or something, even though you are dressed as a basketball cheerleader from the U.S. state where you spent a winter semester abroad during freshman year, before Yangyang joined your university. So, to make the conversation more natural, Yangyang high-fives Ten, while you take his juice box away and open it for him. He stares at you, smile faltering, suddenly feeling smaller as you take care of him and Ten resumes whatever the hell you two had been talking about until he entered the conversation.

“Oh, come on,” Ten whines, hitting your arm after you hand Yangyang the capri sun. You glare at him sharply, then make sure Yangyang is okay, rubbing his arm comfortingly. He wants it to mean more, because he does not know what you want from him, but now is not the time, not when you are trying to keep everything on the DL. “I want to meet the guy who is the best sex you’ve ever had.”

Yangyang mimics your body language, though peppier as he smirks. “Really?” he asks Ten. “That’s what you heard?” He turns to you, tilting his head teasingly. “That’s really what you said?”

You baby-step out of the trio, slightly further from Yangyang specifically until you knock into Winwin behind. Your conversation partners giggle at you as you throw a small apology over your shoulder, then you glare at them upon returning to the group. You exhale slowly, giving yourself time to think before speaking, and redirect your annoyance at Yangyang more than Ten. “I might have.”

“Why didn’t you invite him to the party, huh?” Ten asks, bumping shoulders, wiggling suggestively. He raises his eyebrows, glancing at Yangyang to rope him into the teasing too and he falls into it because your mystery boyfriend is already here. Yangyang stops dancing when Ten’s expression changes, softens and reminisces. “I get the whole ‘respecting his privacy thing, but, like, I really want to meet the guy who helped you get over Renjun.”

The name drop causes Yangyang to shoot his eyebrows to the moon. His neck snaps at you faster than Kun’s when he jokingly accepted a marriage proposal. He watches you widen your eyes at Ten and smack him loudly. Maybe not everyone knew that, he thinks; he certainly did not know that, and he has known Renjun longer than you or Ten have. While you and Ten stare each other off, irritated and shocked, respectfully, Yangyang loudly slurps the last of his capri sun.

Yangyang tries to break the tension by pointing to the wall adjacent from you all, at Renjun. “He’s taking five shots of Smirnoff with Jeno right now, while Jaemin holds lemons at the ready.”

“Big deal,” Ten waves him off while keeping eye contact with you. Yangyang stares at his face, looking him up and down, then decides to take a baby step in front of your leg, almost protectively. He cannot gauge where Ten stands, where the conversation is going, but he knows that he will be there for you, just in case. “I did that when I was 17.”

You smack Ten, with the arm opposite of Yangyang, using the other one to pull Yangyang back into an equilateral triangle. “Don’t normalize underage drinking.” Yangyang almost rolls his eyes at that; who are you even saying that too?

“Hey!” Ten counters. “No one is underage at my party.” He holds your hand and pulls you into his side, into a scalene triangle, while covering your mouth. “Shhh, you can’t say that out loud. I invited Mr. I’m-A-Lawyer-Now, and besides, -“ You pull out of his arms and stand slightly in front of Yangyang. “-I just happened to invite the babies, too. Like Yangyang.” Ten turns to the devil in disguise and pinches his cheeks. “Baby.”

Yangyang single-handedly unbuttons his shirt again, like an act of defiance. “I am not a baby!”

Ten drops his head to the side, quirking an eyebrow. “You respond to baby,” he retorts, “And you’re drinking a juice box.”

“I had a bottle of soju earlier!”

“Oh? Just one?”

Yangyang folds the aluminum capri sun into his pocket, hopefully discreetly, and scrunches his nose at Ten. He feels you gently draw him back at your side, via his wrist, and expects you to defend him, but you just tease him further:

“Pics or it didn’t happen.”

Yangyang straightens up, his jaw dropping, then he crinkles his nose and sticks his tongue out at you. He accepts it though, not changing the topic, because he sees the way your posture shifts when everyone moves away from the romantic department.

Although, he might want to talk to you about it sometime.

Ten grounds him back to the conversation, patting his hair – the same spot you place kisses when the two of you cuddle and he is the small spoon, so Yangyang ducks away, slapping Ten’s hand out of the air. The whole hair touching thing reminds him that you are never really vulnerable enough with him, to let him hold you like baby. He wants to try it, especially since Ten keeps babying him in front of you, but he is not sure if you even like it.

“Yeah,” you agree, your voice low. You poke Yangyang’s side then cross your arms over your cropped jersey. “You’re so cute.”

Yangyang circles his neck towards you, smiling reassuringly, or at least he thinks so. His gaze wanders from your eyes to your fingers, which are coiled around your upper arm, so he starts taking off his jacket, pulling off the cuffs behind his back. But he stops after feeling your hand on his bicep. He glances at your hand, then stares at your eyes before pouting:

“I don’t want to be cute.”

He stops stripping but still decides to keep you warm, with another back hug, this time enveloping you into his jacket while he rests his chin on your head, even tiptoeing just to commit to the hug. When you squirm, shaking your shoulders to hit his pecs, he just hangs on slightly tighter until you stop. And after you relax, resuming natural conversation with Ten about anything other than your former crush, he smiles, coming back down to his heels and leaning on your shoulder. The new position tempts him to kiss your neck, and he almost does, but then he feels Ten’s eyes look at him, so he cannot even press a small peck at your jugular like he does sometimes when he catches you at the café by the physics building – the one that only Jaemin goes to, out of all his friends; the one where neither of you get spotted by your friends so it seems like a date, not that either of you have ever called it that. Nope. He avoids kissing your neck and just brushes his nose along your skin. It does not come off as platonic, he recognizes, but Ten does not ask any questions and Yangyang slowly phases out of the conversation to meet up with Hendery who walked through the front door as a pink bunny rabbit.

Yangyang slipping out of the trio feels so sudden, you think after feeling his hands unbuckle around your waist.

Maybe he does not feel important in the conversation anymore. So, you lock your elbows into your sides, clasping your own hands over your stomach to make him stay put. You knock your head onto his collarbone, prompting him to say something, but he does not, only resting his chin on your shoulder. Hopefully, he is smiling; you like his smile. His cheek pokes you at your neck, similar to how he almost kissed you in front of Ten just minutes ago. Then, he pushes his hand in front of you, to wave at Hendery, opposite the room, and your smile quirks down, somewhat embarrassed, as you trace his direction to the pink, fluffy ears bopping along to last year’s Travis Scott song. Ten copies you, twisting hesitantly behind himself. Meanwhile, Yangyang grows a little bolder, hunching forward onto his tiptoes to kiss your cheek silently, before dashing off with his friends.

Too stunned, eyes wide, mouth smaller, you miss the way Ten turns around, his smile wide with a teasing remark on the tip of his tongue. It goes away though, when he sees your face, so after making eye contact, you are met with an ominous stare. It is also curious, but the ominousness throws you for a loop. Then he raises his brow slightly, and you smack him, simultaneously asking what he wants.

“Nothing, nothing,” he laughs, crossing his arms over his pilot costume. He relaxes once you show no intent to hit him again, then he locks his hands behind his back, leaning toward your face mischievously. And when his nose almost pokes your eye out, you jump back into WInwin again, glare prompting him to ask stupid questions. “I simply want to know what all that was about.”

“What?” you bite at him, annoyed, following your second apology of the night to Winwin. And instead of meeting his eye (to give yourself more time to think of an excuse, no matter how flimsy), you flatten down the bottom of your top, where a iron-on patch of Dillard’s number disrupts the obnoxious Portland ‘P’ – you wonder if anyone connects your costume and Yangyang’s favorite basketball team, because no one says anything. Except, Ten is saying something right now, continuing the silent taunting into your personal bubble, getting almost as close as Yangyang was just a minute ago. So, you poke him away, on his forehead. “You want to know why I keep running into Winwin?” Ten rolls his eyes. Your voice does not feign innocence as well as you want.

“That was all you,” he deflects, eye contact maintained but he points at your vodka party drink, implying that you might have had a bit too much tonight. You swallow the alcohol faster, defiantly, and hold your breath, exhaling longer while you pause, holding the empty cup still above your dry tongue. “No, yeah, but, uh, no, that whole thing with Yangyang.” Ten bumps your arm with his elbow, coming to your side so that both of you can watch the man in question from across the room. “Huh?” he teases lightly. “Are you entertaining him? [Because] You two seem really … close.”

“I’m close with you,” you retort, touching his shoulder, into the crook of his neck, with your head. Then you stand back up, reflexively smiling when Yangyang laughs at a new TikTok dance that Hendery shows him. He even looks back at you, waving once your eyes meet. You throw him a thumbs up, and you swear that his smile gets brighter. It probably was not because of you though, because he starts giggling louder and dancing alongside Hendery right after. “We’re all –“ You turn to Ten, smile still blanketed under your nose, then you frown. “- friends; what’s that look for?”

“Nothing!” He imitates innocence better than you do, baring his palms for dramatic effect. You face him frontally, examining his devilishly handsome face for a crack. And he gives it to you: “It’s just that we’ve known each other for eight years and you never let me cuddle you like that.” He pokes your hip, where Yangyang was attached. “You’re closer with someone you just met.”

“You introduced us. In March!”

Ten waves a hand lazily. “Minor details. Besides –“ He blocks Yangyang from your view, not that it really mattered because you are trying to have a conversation with Ten. But it helps you maintain eye contact. “- you seem really comfortable with him being naked on you.”

You open and close your mouth in one short breath, swirling the empty red solo cup at your side, nervously. He has a point; you know he has a point – you are very comfortable with Yangyang being naked on top of you. Wait, he said on you. Either way, Ten is right. You do not want to admit it because that implies feelings, something that you are definitely not willing to talk about at the moment, especially this moment, but he is right. The question is if he needs to know.

“Did you hear about Yangyang and the anatomy student from Renjun’s class? They’re also close.”

You deadpan. As it turns out, he does not need to know. You are not dating, anyways, so …

“It’s my business, because…?”

“It’s not,” Ten agrees, shrugging. He looks off, turning his head toward Johnny, dressed as the Kellogg Tiger, before looking at you again. “Just thought you’d like to know.” He shrugs again. “If you didn’t already.”

“Uhh, okay,” you confirm, as nonchalantly as possible. You mirror his body language, standing straighter. Ten says nothing, not noticing the way your body stiffens, or at least, you hope so. “So you’re telling to what?” Get you jealous? “Give him advice?”

“Nah, we both know that he’s fully capable on his own.”

“Please,” you scoff. “He’s a baby who lives in a frat apartment with seven other dudes and buys food at the café by the physics department to avoid washing a knife.” Well, he charmed you, so how can you criticize his flirting abilities? You shrug – maybe, he was just that horny. He has always been a typical teenage boy. Although, he turned 20 a couple weeks ago.

“Huh.”

“What?” You come down from the high that somewhat roasted your sex partner … fuck buddy? friend with benefits? He is something to you - a little more than a friend but you do not think he would willingly be your boyfriend. Your voice sounds less excited now, and you run your hand through your hair, pulling slightly harder at the ends.

“Nothing,” Ten shrugs again. He twitches at you, briefly spinning his hips. “It’s just that Yangyang mentioned you go to that café too.”

“Yeah,” you drawl, like it is obvious. Ten smirks, knowingly, you think, so you crush him, “Jaemin, too.” You lift your eyes to the ceiling for a second, like it would give you an out. “And Kun on Tuesdays after 5.”

Ten scrunches his face, now facing you again. “Oh, we both know that Kun goes to the kiosk in the chemistry building for the cute barista with a good taste in music.”

You mockingly smile at him, squinting above your nose. He does not get the satisfaction of an equally annoyed laugh – probably because you might crack, your voice might crack and accidentally give something away. It’s not that you don’t want anyone to know that you are sleeping with Yangyang – you don’t, but not because it is embarrassing. You just do not particularly want to hear the two cents everyone seemingly needs to donate, like a commercial tax, especially with their baby Yangyang.

“Why did Hendery even dress up as a bunny? A pink bunny. Is he puling a Chandler?”

“No,” Ten shakes his head. This is the third conversation change you have made, and surely, he caught on by now. “Only Jisung and Winwin are watching F.R.I.E.N.D.S. with Chenle; I think that Hendery just like the costume.” Ten points at Johnny, flashing a wave, then glances at you. “I’m gonna head over there. I haven’t seen Johnny since he left for a Paris project.”

“Yeah, no,” you gesticulate, nodding, “go ahead. I’ll meet you later, or something.”

“We’ll catch coffee on Monday.” Ten’s voice shrinks as he moves away. “After office hours!” He turns around one more time, emphasizing his words louder, “At the physics café!”

Yangyang, along with a couple other people, snaps his neck at Ten walking away from you, especially after hearing the bit about the physics café because, no offence to Ten, but that is his place. With you. The café on 17th is his rendezvous point with you. He likes the whole secret aspect of your relationship – it is so sexy; you are so sexy. It is just … the face that everything is secret prevents him from explicitly opposing Ten’s suggestion. And before he knows it, Yangyang makes his way toward you, waving goodbye to his psych friends.

He already knows where you are, because sometimes he would glance over at you when someone made a joke, just to see you laugh, to laugh with you. Occasionally, you would be smiling brightly, at whatever Ten said, and look to him. So, all he has to do is turn right and find his annoyed cheerleader, to annoy you even more.

The music is louder by the kitchen exit, where you are, curled against the wall with an empty red solo cup, blue light from your phone glowing across your face. Yangyang takes the opportunity to scare you, hiding behind a couple groups until he reaches you, creeping slowly. Then he strikes, poking your obliques.

“Boo!”

“Ah!”

You jump against the wall, clutching all your belongings closer while he laughs at you.

“Aw, did I scare you?”

Yangyang envelopes you into a hug, ignoring the way you glare at him. And he relaxes, when you do, feeling you squeeze his waist and sigh. You will never admit it, but the two of you know that this is how your dynamic works – he annoys you, then you cuddle him. And he has so many ways to annoy you. Like, next, he pulls a 180 – both coming behind you and switching up the mood to grind under your hips.

“What are you doing?” he whispers in your ear, fast, grabbing your waist to guide you over his pelvis. He gets dangerously near your cheek, excusing it as a way for you to hear him better, since you two stand adjacent to the speakers, where the music is above talking decibel. His eye catches onto Lucas’s, and he winks, hands tightening above your skirt, because, despite all the teasing, this is not actually how he wants your entanglement to get out. “Wanna head upstairs? I just found a new TIkTok challenge you can practice on me, like the WAP one.”

“What are you doing?” you retort, laying your fingers on his bare chest – he likes that you keep touching him, not so much when you push him away. He wonders if you know that. Like, he chose his outfit for tonight because, well, he looks good, but also because he figured that you would think he looks good, too. It seems like you do, considering that your hand always finds ways back to his abs. So, he grows more confident, nipping at your ear while you push him against the wall, further away. Your eyes flutter, lashes blinking rapidly as he holds you closer, left hand toying with the hem of your shirt. He has this trick that you always react to, and he wants to do it now, while no one pays attention to either of you (larger parties afford far more privacy than smaller ones). You lean your head on his warm shoulder, then he presses his palm into your spine until you are chest to chest with him, impossible to get closer. Your breath sounds louder, as the music transitions to Goodbye feat. Lyse [slow version], and he wonders if he can elicit a moan from you, in the same frequency as the song’s growl. His right hand travels between your thighs, until you stop him, slapping his hand and holding him still. “We’re in public.”

Yangyang spins you around, showing off his own point of view as a counter argument: no one is paying attention. The whole thing bumps your connected hips into the wall, and his arm belts over your lower waist, driving you to essentially demi plie over his thigh that sneaks through your legs. At the sudden movement, you gasp, death gripping over his arm. He does not mind very much, only the red solo cup tapping rhythmically between the wall and his elbow. You barely get time to relax completely before he drops lower, just enough for him to look up at you. And he takes note of the sexual tension essentially radiating off the two of you, so he alleviates it, giving the illusion that there is only dancing going on right now. Though, you baby-step forward, to give him more space. His smile falters, twitching down, and he is thankful that you seem oblivious to it, because you comply with his action, letting your skirt flower spread over his leg and the smile return to his face. Yangyang guides your swaying left and right, grazing over his abs.

“I’m offering to go upstairs,” he answers definitively, still whispering in your ear. “More privacy.” His hands travel up again, skin getting lightly scratched by your top’s texture. Your nails might do a better job, if he remembers correctly. God, he wants you to take up his offer. ���You didn’t have a problem with it an hour ago,” he points out, while dropping his gaze to your neck, once again tempted to mark you. He pulls away some of the baby strands that fell out of your hairdo, then locks eyes as he traces your ear shape. “Do you have a problem with it now?”

“No,” you answer him quickly, shaking your head for even more emphasis. You turn around fully and scan his eyes before shaking your head again. “I don’t have a problem.”

Yangyang smiles wider, instinctively bowing forward. Your ambiguous answer tells him more than he asked. He almost reveals something in return: that he enjoys kissing you, because he would totally do it right now, but you keep stopping him. He is all for consent, honestly; it just gets really confusing with you. Even now, he initiates a small, intimate touch while this moment afford you two some privacy, breathing open mouthed kisses onto the vein behind your neck, slightly illusioned in the dark lights as just talking to you. All the boundaries do no really define what he can, or cannot, do in public. Like, apparently, you two can have sex in a closet right before his best friend’s party – a best friend shared between you two, but there are rules about how close he can stand next to you. Both situations still involve secrecy. Although, one is far more sexier than the other. But he wants the whole damn thing – to hold you in public, and private, to kiss the part of your trapezius muscle that he likes so much, to be able to say that he knows places too, like the physics café where he doesn’t want Ten to take you because he takes you on dates there!

Then, you sigh.

Why are you sighing? It feels like that should be his response.

You clasp your hands behind his neck, evidently hesitating to reveal something – he knows because you fiddle with his collar a few times before moving onto the ends of his hair.

“It’s just …” You pause, so he tries to make his gaze unwavering, to hold you securely. “It’s just that a certain classmate might have a problem.” He furrows his eyebrows, bending onto his knees to ask for clarification. “You know … a certain classmate.”

Yangyang narrows his eyes, lost in translation. He slides up the wall and squeezes your waist, thinking, trying to figure you out.

“Oh!” he catches on. “Oh, I don’t think Hyunjin would have a problem with us.” He moves his hand to your shoulder, rubbing it comfortingly. “I don’t really see how anyone in any of our classes would have a problem with us, much less, like, know about us.” He cocks his head to the side sympathetically, lips brushing along your cheek to ear. “I don’t have a problem with us.” He drapes his arms around your sides. “Just FYI.”

“Me neither.”

He smiles wider. You two are on the same page about something. He almost kisses you right then and there, but settles for brushing his nose on yours, simultaneously taking a step backward, closer to the wall so that no one sees the obnoxiously domestic display of affection. Actually, it might be weird for Hendery, Xiaojun, or one of his psych friends to see him act so … boyfriend-like, so romantic. He doesn’t think that anyone would anticipate that kind of behavior from him, and he is honestly too sure if you see him like that. He would try it though, you know, because he is curious and he would like to be your boyfriend.

“Did Ten tell you about Hyunjin?” Yangyang asks, prodding slowly.

You nod, equally slow, eyes falling down. “He didn’t mention any names, -“ Yangyang feels something in his chest drop. He put a name to the idea, and now he watches your eyelashes flutter and the lump in your throat shake, as you try not to say the name. “- but yeah.” He hugs you, bending your arms around his stomach so that he jackets you in his empty shirt. You have said that he has a natural body warmth, and hopefully it is comforting right now, because …

“It’s not really his business who I talk to.”

Yangyang almost apologizes for creating an environment that fosters mistrust or makes room for insecurities. Except, (1) that sounds like a note he would write in his case study’s conclusion for class, and (2) how the hell is he even supposed to say that? He tries to show that this – whatever it is – is exclusive. Like, now, he just holds you tightly, during a Halloween party, only slightly out of view from his friends. He almost apologizes, and it is on the tip of his tongue, but he holds back, pursing his lips as you open your mouth.

“It’s not my business either,” you reason, stepping back. His embrace slackens, like rock climbing because he catches you, not letting you fall off him, even though you wiggle out a little bit, pushing him back into the wall. “Because we’re not dating.”

“No,” Yangyang partially agrees, standing straighter, supported by the wood. “We’re not, but we’re …” He wants to tell you about the exclusivity, that he considers the two of you to be exclusive. Some part of him thinks that you hold the same thought. And he cocks his head to the side, rolling his tongue behind his teeth. “We’re good friends. And, you know, we’re like, yeah. So, it’s your business too.” He rubs your shoulder again. “Wanna go upstairs and talk about it?”

Yangyang smacks your ass for attention, trying to make the situation fluffier, simultaneously gesturing to the second floor with his hair. This is not really the time nor place to dissect your relationship, and he would totally put it under the microscope. Just, maybe, at another time. You seem to agree, walking away first, holding his hand to guide him up the secretive stairs.

And despite this being his idea, Yangyang stops before the first step, waiting for you to march a couple feet taller than him. His eyes linger at the lowest hem of your skirt, until you plant one foot in front of the other, on two separate levels. You look over your shoulder and roll your eyes. He expected it, quickly meeting your gaze innocently. Then he smacks you ass again, as if he were not just looking up your skirt a second ago. You glare at him, but he slaps your ass again and races upstairs.

“You’re so annoying,” you comment after him, still running to meet him at the top.

Yangyang smiles. Yeah, but you love him. He opens the nearest bedroom door, beelining to the bed where he manspreads across the full-sized mattress. You walk into the room quickly after him, turning around to close the door. Your skirt swings chastely around your thighs, and he cannot take his eyes away from it, wishing for you to swing them around his hips.

“Wanna be annoying with me?”

You roll your head, clicking your tongue, after finding him sitting relaxed on the comforter with suggestive eyebrows. “Yeah, I guess.”

Yangyang lifts his arms to catch you when you dive between his shirt, the lower part of your body thrusting on top his as you prowl beside his torso. He leans back, hands anchoring himself to your face. You push him deeper into the mattress, and he feels your nails airily redraw each indent on his carefully contoured abdomen. He smirks, asking if you like what you feel, and tilts his chin up to give you better access to his mouth. You tell him to shut up by biting his lower lip, though you match his expression, shaking your head as you decline into him. Yangyang cannot maintain his position any longer, almost breaking a sweat when you unbuckle his very thin belt and tap into the metal button barely holding his pants together. He whines, briefly breaking the kiss, then he flips you over, bending one of your legs up to fit his in between.

“I don’t want you to just guess,” Yangyang whispers. He slowly retreats his palm from under your shirt to the spot on your stomach where your shirt lifted up; he wants your verbal consent before doing anything else, and he waits for it. The kiss gets longer as you sigh into it, lazily hooking an arm around his neck. So, he stops. And then brushes your hair behind your ear, just hovering over you with tender eyes. “I don’t want you to just guess.”

“I’m not guessing,” you reassure him. You play with his hair, the way he likes, toying the strands on the top of his head then combing through the rest until reaching his neck. He looks at you innocently again, in case you crack. But you don’t. He restarts the kiss, sliding his hand under all the layers covering your torso.

Yangyang helps you out of your shirt, watching the way your chest bounces without support, so he gives you more, adding his lips like a low-set suction. “You’re so pretty,” he confesses, kissing into your sternum after you arch it up at him. And he wants to know your reaction, so as he presses an open mouth kiss into the side of your boob, he looks up at you, your lips parted by a silent moan. “You are so, so pretty like this.”

Unlike you, Yangyang moans audibly.

He feels you curl your fingers into his waistband, touching his tip outside his underwear. With his eyes closed, he drops on his back and feels you move around his lower thighs, teetering above them lightly. You meet him between the velvety sheets, giggling with him as your hair tickles his face. He opens his eyes, combing the loose strands behind your face again, finishing the act of endearment with his knuckles stroking your cheek. Sometimes he lets himself fall into these more romantic displays of affections.

Yangyang grips your ass, under your cheerleading skirt. When he remembers that you have his favorite player’s jersey patched onto your crop top, he pulls his chin up, nipping at your bottom lip. You draw him in further, towering over him until he drags you down with him, mixing between the sheets, laughing again. He really loves hearing your voice, and he loves it even more that he can make you have a fun time, make you grin so vocally during the moments that matter. So, he tries it again, slipping under your underwear too, massaging your skin.

“Mmm,” you moan.

Yangyang feels you slither his shirt off his shoulders, your nails grazing around his biceps as he tilts up to kiss you over and over again. Then, abruptly, you sit back, on your knees, around his hips, alert at attention. The new position allows him to mark your neck, one hand sliding through your waist band, over your ass, to have you grind down on him. His lips nibble at your collarbone, tongue breezing along as he waits for your reaction.

“Wait, wait.”

He stops, looking at you from under his eyelashes. A minute passes, and you don’t give any more restraints, so he resumes taking off your underwear. He keeps the same consistent eye contact because you remain alert above him, but you close your eyes and lean your head closer to him. He pulls his arm completely out of his sleeve so that he can hug you firmly against his body. Your chest grazes his, and he moans.

“Shh,” you silence him, kissing him quiet, hands still on his shoulder, “Do you hear that?”

“No, mm.” Yangyang breaks the kiss. “What are you –“

“Shh!”

You move your hands onto his pectoral muscles, his shirt near completely off his body, as you turn your head at the door. His head stutters in the same direction, stopping every half millisecond to return back to your face and make sure that you are okay. Then, he hears it: Xiaojun stumbling into the walls, jiggling the doorknob.

Yangyang stiffens. “Did you lock the door?”

A bit of light from the hallway cracks into the room, along with intoxicated hushing and giggling.

“Shit, no,” you answer, obviously, then start to pick your clothes off the bed and stand up. After a moment of hesitation, Yangyang follows you, buttoning up the middle of his shirt and meeting you in the center of the room, shielding your exposed chest as you clip on your bra.

Yangyang looks at the door when it creaks louder, eyes caught by a headlight. Before he knows it, you shove him into a closet. Neither of you are getting the opportunity to be annoying together because Xiaojun drunkenly stumbles into your space, moaning after his own date. Yangyang rolls his eyes and feels you slide into his shirt with him, scratching his back with your spangled top. He knows that there is no other option, since you two do not want to expose your relationship, especially like this, but he would rather not ruin his relationship with one of his best friends due to indecency – either of theirs. Thankfully, he gets an out, after Xiaojun hides under the blanket.

When you two make it downstairs, Yangyang bursts into laughter, yours following too until he gives you a long chaste kiss, screening you behind the wall to maintain that secrecy he did not want Xiaojun to break.

Although, Yangyang pulls away, brushing your hair behind your ear again, hand holding your waist to prevent you from leaving. You stare at him, at the domestic moment of tenderness, then fall into his chest again. And that is when he realizes it: he doesn’t really want to be a secret.

[ncssian]

A Favor: Part Nine

Nessian Modern AU

Masterlist

a/n: reading canon eris discourse literally makes me dizzy but in this fic he's pretty chill

***

“Any plans for Thanksgiving?” Emerie asks as they stroll between the shelves of the library.

Nesta runs her finger down the spine of a textbook on corporate law. “Not really,” she murmurs distantly.

She’s been doing her best not to think of the upcoming holidays, in fact. Cassian is going to Velaris for Thanksgiving, and of course Feyre invited Nesta as well, but…

She’s always ignored her sister’s holiday invites, but this year is different. Cassian, a recent constant in her life, will be gone, enjoying himself for the first time in months without her presence. And Nesta will be at the cabin alone, because of course she can’t celebrate Thanksgiving with Feyre’s found family. Being friends with Cassian hasn’t changed that.

“Well,” Emerie is saying, “a bunch of us can’t go home for the holidays for one reason or another, so we’re hosting a small Friendsgiving at my apartment. You’re invited.”

Nesta glances at her, surprised. “Who’s going to be there?”

“The same guys from drinks night: Eris, Justinian, Isaac. Maybe a plus one or two if we’re lucky.” She elbows Nesta. “Maybe a girl for me to take home.”

“I thought the party was at your home already?”

“You know what I mean. Anyway, are you coming?”

Nesta purses her lips. “But you said it was a Friendsgiving. Those guys aren’t my friends.”

Emerie looks at her like she's insane. “Uh, why not?”

“Because,” Nesta states, “we’ve only had one real interaction all semester.”

Emerie scoffs. “You talk to them all the time in class, Nesta.”

“Yes. Out of necessity.”

Emerie raises a high brow. “That’s how you view spending time with us? A ‘necessity’?”

She’s upset, and Nesta doesn’t know what she said wrong. “That’s not what I meant,” she tries to say.

“Then what did you mean?”

“I just…” Nesta shrugs. “I thought it took more to make friends than a single night out.” Those are the rules, right?

Emerie narrows her dark eyes at her. “I’m sorry we’re not up to standard, then. But for your information, those guys liked you. I’m sure they considered you a friend.” She turns to leave, but Nesta is so stunned she can’t even try to stop her. The click of Emerie’s heels resonate long after she’s gone.

“Hey,” Cassian comes up to her later that day. “About Thanksgiving—”

Nesta drops her dinner plate onto the island with a clatter. “What is it with everybody and Thanksgiving?” Her voice is unnecessarily loud.

Cassian blinks. “Well, it’s only a few days away—”

“I know,” she says. “I’m fine staying home alone. We never celebrated Thanksgiving growing up, you know? It’s really not a big deal.”

“Will you let me finish, Nesta?”

Nesta presses her lips together.

Cassian takes a breath. “I think you should— I would really love it if you came to Velaris with me this weekend.”

There’s a silence as he waits for her to answer.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she says after a moment.

Before he can press the subject, she blurts, “I already have plans.”

“You do?” Nesta can’t tell if he sounds disappointed or surprised.

She straightens her back, lying through her teeth, “Yes. Some friends from school are getting together for a Friendsgiving, and I’m going.” She almost bites her tongue on the word friends. She doesn’t even know what that means anymore.

“That’s amazing,” Cassian says, though he still looks a little taken aback. “I’m glad.” He looks down at the marble counter then, trying to smile. “Sucks for me, though.”

Nesta huffs a laugh. “Please, like you won’t be having fun with your friends whether I’m there or not.”

He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, but why go for half the fun when I could go for double?”

“That’s not how math works,” she snipes.

Cassian grabs a fork so he can sit down across from Nesta. “Don’t you ever bring up correct math in this house again.” He points his silverware at her threateningly.

From there, they can devolve into their usual dinner habit of bantering that leads to more serious conversation. Cassian has recently been on a French movie binge, Nesta learns, and even though she despises the French, she listens closely to his analysis of each film and offers her own thoughts back. She even promises to rewatch one or two of his favorites at a later time. The giddiness he gives in return makes her almost wish she had accepted his invitation earlier, if only so she could keep making him happy.

God. What is he doing to her?

Later that night, Nesta pulls out her phone and opens up her messages with Emerie. She doesn’t want to have rejected Cassian just to end up staying home alone all weekend. She types out five different messages and erases them before settling on an apathetic, Is the invite for Thursday still on?

Emerie takes her time to reply, likely to punish Nesta. After some minutes, she finally texts, Yes.

It’s all she can expect from Emerie, and it’s all she needs to see.

Nesta: I’ll be there.

***

“Cassian!” Feyre swings open the door with an overjoyed smile, ready to greet him.

He laughs and steps in for a hug, going so far as to lift her feet off the floor. Because damn him, even with his conflicted feelings towards Feyre lately, he’s missed her. He’s missed all of his friends, even though he’s found something precious while he was away from them.

He’s ushered into the penthouse, which Feyre and Rhys insist on calling an “apartment”, as if that softens the blow of their extravagant wealth. Cassian and everybody else goes along with it, however, because the rich have committed worse crimes. At least that’s what Nesta says.

“Rhys is out getting last minute beer from the gas station,” Feyre says as she takes his overnight bag. “And you’re the first to arrive, which means I have you all to myself.” She whirls on him with a predatory gleam in her eye. “Tell me everything about the last two months with you and Nesta, ASAP.”

Cassian’s heart starts racing at the unexpected interrogation, but he laughs it off and shrugs. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. We’re just roommates.”

“Well, I know that.” Feyre rolls her eyes. “But what is it like? How is it going? Is she okay? Are you okay?”

Before he can answer a single question, Feyre goes on. “I haven’t heard from either of you in eons, it feels like. Is Nesta still picky about her foods touching? Does she get upset when you play music too loud? Does she—”

“Jesus, Feyre,” Cassian interrupts loudly. “Not everything in my life is about your sister. Give it a rest.” He takes his duffel bag back from her.

“I’m just curious!” she says indignantly, but Cassian is already heading up the winding stairs to his guest room, going as fast as he can without outright running.

“I need to get washed up!” he announces before Feyre can make him stop and come back for more questioning.

In the safety of his bedroom, he releases a breath.

If Cassian thought keeping Nesta’s health issues from Feyre was difficult, he couldn’t have predicted how painful it would be to hide his feelings for Nesta. Still, he doesn’t dare expose what he can’t yet define, especially not to his nosy-ass friends. Some things just aren’t matters for gossip.

***

Nesta hesitantly enters Emerie’s small studio apartment to a party in full swing; “full swing” being Justinian and Isaac playing video games on the couch while Emerie is in the kitchen area attempting to make drinks. Nesta stops near the kitchenette and crosses her arms, surveying the scene. “Something about this doesn’t look right,” she says aloud. Emerie doing the hard work while the men play? Antithetical to her very nature.

“I know,” is all Emerie says without looking up from whatever hellish concoction she’s whipping up. “But I’m the host, so this is my role.”

“Hey, Nesta,” the guys speak up together, not taking their eyes off the TV. Isaac is the first to break his concentration from the game, glancing at Nesta and doing a double take. “Woah, you look good today.” Is he blushing?

Emerie finally looks up at that, eyeing Nesta’s modest black dress. “A little funeral-chic, but still hot as ever, babe.” Right after, she makes a face at the term babe. “Nope, I tried it and I hate it.”

Nesta hates it just as much, but goes over to help Emerie with what she now realizes are oddly colored Jello shots. She picks up a little plastic cup with dark jelly in it and wiggles it around. “What color is this supposed to be?”

“Brown.” Emerie blows a piece of escaped hair out of her face. “They were supposed to be Thanksgiving themed.”

Nesta surveys the shots arranged in various fall colors. Definitely an interesting choice for a twenty-four year old law student, but what did Nesta know about parties?

“Where’s Eris?” she asks casually as she helps arrange more cups. Her argument with Emerie is far from forgotten, but the two women are too alike for their own good. They’ll ignore the lingering tension until it dissipates, and that will be the end of that.

Before Emerie can answer Nesta’s question, a loud bang comes from the entryway as the already open door hits the wall. Eris Vanserra sweeps inside in his designer coat and sophisticated boots, followed by a new, striking face. “It’s fucking freezing,” he announces, just as the new guy quietly shuts the door behind them.

“You’re late,” Emerie says in her usual flat tone.

“I had to pick up my twerp brother.” Eris tilts his head toward the redhead behind him.

“I didn’t ask to come,” the new guy, Eris’s brother, chimes in.

Nesta is perked up now, angling to get a better look at him. Same hair color, same eyes, different skin tone from Eris. He looks like the relaxed, unpretentious version of his brother. Someone pauses the video game.

“I’m Lucien,” he awkwardly raises a hand.

Justinian looks at everybody else. “I’m confused— does this mean we can finally replace Eris’s punk ass?”

The thought of an unexpected guest first makes Nesta clench up, especially when she’s seated right next to the damn guy at the dining table. New people means everything about the regular social routine will be changed up, and she isn’t at all prepared for it.

It takes maybe fifteen minutes for her to realize that Lucien is nothing to worry about— much quicker than she’s ever warmed up to a stranger before.

He has the affected quiet confidence of someone who would rather be anywhere else but here. No one knows that mask better than Nesta.

Against all odds, she’s the first to initiate a conversation.

“Why are you here?” she says bluntly.

No hello, no how are you. Fuck, this is why she doesn’t talk to people.

Lucien looks surprised at the sudden acknowledgment, but answers, “My plans got cancelled at the last minute.” His mouth tightens as he looks toward his brother. “So Eris dragged me here instead.”

“You don’t like your brother?”

Lucien narrows his eyes at her, defensive. “Is this an interrogation or something?”

Embarrassment heats Nesta’s face, but she hides it under her usual cold stare. “Never mind.”

She turns back to her food, refocusing on an anecdote Isaac is giving about a girl he met the other week. A moment later, Lucien says lowly, “I can’t stand my brother.”

She laughs a little too loudly at that, and everyone looks at her.

Isaac grins. “See, Nesta thinks it’s a funny story.”

Nesta frowns. “No, I don’t. You told it last week and no one laughed.”

His face falls. Eris laughs out loud at him, and Emerie tosses wadded up napkins at both men. “You’re both deeply uninteresting. Let’s talk about me.”

She launches into a heated discussion about how she plans to defeat “that bitch Brian” for the internship at Velaris’s biggest law firm next summer, with Eris interjecting that she wouldn’t survive a day in the big city. Nesta turns back to Lucien. “I understand how you feel.”

“You hate Eris too?”

“No, but I have sisters.” Eris is nice, if a pretentious asshole at times, but she empathizes with Lucien either way.

He raises a brow. “And you’re here for Thanksgiving instead of with them?”

For the first time all night, Nesta remembers that Cassian is having fun in a spacious penthouse with Feyre and Elain and the others, likely eating much nicer food than store-bought turkey and Jello shots, and she almost deflates. Almost. Because as much as she enjoys this— spending time with people that belong to her, not Feyre or anybody else— there’s a hollow space in the room that Cassian usually fills. She doesn’t know how she can miss someone and be this thoroughly content at the same time, but she tries not to ponder on her feelings.

She shrugs at Lucien’s question. “We’re all here instead of with our families.”

What would have been a thirty-minute meal on Nesta’s own stretches into a long night of full bellies and fuller conversation. Justinian demands a toast in honor of Friendsgiving, and Emerie tells him not to pull that cringy shit, but everyone ends up raising their small Jello shots to clink against each other.

Thanksgiving might be Nesta’s favorite holiday.

***

Cassian doesn’t know what this feeling is: the itching, nervy sense of impatience that plagues him the longer dinner drags on. All he knows is that tonight Mor’s laughter is just a little too loud, and Amren’s quips are just a little too sharp, and Rhys’s stories aren’t very interesting for once.

Nothing about his friends have changed, but somehow, Cassian feels different. Empty. He can’t stop thinking about what Nesta is doing right now.

He checks his phone under the table for the sixth time in three minutes, for what, he doesn’t know. Maybe she’s in trouble and needs his help. Maybe she’s having a bad night and wants to talk to him. Maybe she’s just bored and thinking about him.

None of this is true, evidently, because his phone remains dead silent.

“Cassian.” It’s Elain’s gentle voice that draws him out of his head. “What’s it like having a roommate for once? I know you and Nesta love being alone.”

He nearly jumps out of his skin. “Alone? No we don’t. Why would we love being alone together?”

Elain looks at him like he’s grown a new head. “I didn’t mean alone together. It’s just that you’ve always spent your time boarded up in that mountain cabin on your own, and before Nesta moved in, she wouldn’t leave her apartment even to see me.”

“I never thought of it that way,” Feyre butts in. She whirls to Cassian with her hands under her chin. “All this time I was wondering what you and Nesta living together would be like, and I didn’t even consider you guys avoiding each other.”

Cassian scoffs a laugh but doesn’t know how to respond. He just wants Feyre and Elain to stop poking at this raw, fresh thing in his life before his nerves get worse, so he turns to Amren and brings up the thing he knows will shut everyone down: work. “How much longer is Rhys gonna have you playing double agent at Adriatic?” She’s been acting as brand ambassador to the West Coast-based conglomerate for the past five months, playing nice while gathering information on Night Court Inc.’s biggest competitor.

Groans resound around the table, but Amren’s eyes brighten frightfully. “If he keeps me there any longer, I might end up staying for good.”

Rhysand smiles thinly. “Amren has a crush on their new CFO. If she keeps going on about Varian’s pretty face I might pull her out of Adriatic by the end of the year.”

Just as Cassian is about to convince himself to care, his phone vibrates in his hand. Everything tunes out as he sees Nesta’s name on the screen, attached to a new text. He clicks into it.

A picture of Nesta and her friends around a dinner table pops up, smiling and laughing. His heart catches in his throat at the image.

“What did we say about phones during dinner, Cassian?” Rhysand interrupts just then.

Cassian stands up quickly, stammering, “Uh, I just need to answer this call— it’s important.” Azriel is staring up at him like he’s lost his mind, but Cassian doesn’t notice or care as he rushes out of the room with his phone in a death grip, overcome.

Alone in a hallway bathroom, he lets himself look at the picture again, hungrily absorbing every detail he couldn’t catch the first time around: her face is flushed and her hair is down, wilder than usual. Her smile is so rarely genuine that it kills him a little just to see it; he doesn’t know whether to be relieved or pained that she’s having such a good time, that she isn’t missing him like he’s missing her. A sharp-faced girl that Cassian assumes is Emerie is holding the camera, likely having stolen Nesta’s phone to demand a picture, and the two women are surrounded by guys he doesn’t recognize. Except—

The face beside Nesta’s catches Cassian’s attention, and he clicks to zoom in. “Is that Lucien Vanserra?” he mutters.

Elain’s ex gets to hang out with Nesta while he doesn’t? This is fucked.

He doesn’t have a reason for his actions as he shoves his phone into his pocket and exits the bathroom. He just knows he needs to get out of here, away from this place that’s so far from Nesta’s heart.

His keys and coat hang near the front door, and he can hear Feyre’s voice from the dining room. “Cassian? Where are you—”

The door slams behind him before she can finish.

***

Being the only one who refused to get drunk off Jello shots, Eris offers to drive Nesta home for the night.

While Lucien is passed out in the backseat without a care in the world, Nesta is so awake she can feel her nerves buzzing. She knows as soon as she leaves this car, the bittersweet loneliness that comes after a party will set in, but for now…

What a night. She sighs and lets her head fall back against the seat, a small smile gracing her lips.

“Damn,” Eris lets out a low whistle as he pulls up to the mountain cabin. “This is your place?”

She lifts her head, realizing she’s home. “Ah. It’s only a temporary living situation,” she explains. “It’s my— friend’s place.”

“Friend or sugar daddy?” Eris smirks.

Nesta scowls, grabbing her stuff and pushing open the door to leave. It’s not Eris’s fault she’s unable to take a joke about Cassian, but that doesn’t change the sensitivity of the topic.

“Hey, wait—” he calls after her.

She pauses to look back at him. He hesitates, then says, “Good night.”

“Take care of your brother,” she directs. Stepping out of his fancy car, she shuts the door and raises a hand in goodbye, watching him pull away from the cabin.

Alone in the driveway, Nesta stands under the moonlight for a long moment, letting the chill seep into her bones. She’s dawdling.

She pauses again at the front door, her hand on the doorknob. The dreaded loneliness is already coming over her, crawling over her skin and making a home in the cage of her ribs.

A whole weekend without Cassian.

Maybe she should have asked Emerie if she could stay over for the night, but a part of her knows it would have been futile. Emerie can’t replace Cassian’s constant presence, no matter how much Nesta likes her.

It’s only three days. She steels herself and unlocks the door, prepared to be greeted by darkness and hollow silence.

The first thing she notices when she steps inside is the sound of crackling, followed by a warm glow from the living area. The lights are all off, but the fireplace is ablaze.

Nesta’s brows furrow, confused, but then she sees on the couch— “Cassian?”

***

a/n: i know justinian and isaac are names for side characters that sjm has used before but in this case they're completely different ocs.

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