#and then monday night. horrors for fucking real i’m so scared

[annarubys]

too much is going to happen to me this week i’m already exhausted thinking about it. horrors unimaginable are in my future

[watchmegetobsessed]

SLEEPLESS

a/n: omg! it's been so long since i last wrote something for harry so it feels a bit weird but in a good way to be back. i've been spending more time offline so writing hasn't been going that fast like before, but im working on a few other stuff too! just please be patient with me, im trying my besti swear! so now enjoy this oneshot of two oblivious and stupid roommates who start sharing a bed...

pairing: Roommate!Harry x reader

word count: 8.1k

masterlist

Living with three boys has its perks but also a lot of downsides too. It’s not how you planned, you were set to move in with one of your friends from second year, but she bailed on you last minute, leaving you with no place to live when most of the houses were already taken for the next at least one year. You were bracing yourself to sleep under a bridge or something already when your heroes came along.

You went to high school with Harry Niall and Louis, but you weren’t exactly in the same friend group, just knew about each other. Then you ended up in the same Lit class freshman year with Harry and he was basically your pass into their little group. You hit it off pretty easily and you always wondered why you didn’t become friends before college. Later you had two more classes with him in the second semester and it was just all a coincidence that he found out about your living situation.

“Why don’t you move in with us?” he prompted one afternoon when you were studying together in the library.

“I’m not sharing a room with any of you, Harry,” you sighed, shaking your head.

“You wouldn’t have to. We had a fourth mate living with us but he dropped out about a month ago. You could take his bedroom.”

“Are for real? You should talk about it with the boys first, don’t you think?”

“I’m sure they wouldn’t mind it. They like you too and if I’m being honest, the place could use the touch of a woman,” he smirked and you just rolled your eyes, but you were incredibly thankful for the offer.

So after talking with Niall and Louis about it and once they gave their amens on the situation, you officially moved in with the three of them.

You’d be lying if you said there hasn’t been times when you thought about choosing the bridge, living with boys is not exactly a dream. They are messy, sometimes loud and oblivious about certain things women do and need. You’ll never forget Niall’s face when you packed the shelf above the toilet with your tampons and pads. The horror in his eyes as he examined all the different sizes and types.

“But why so many? I don’t get it why you need the large ones and the mini ones too,” he huffed.

“Because I vary them according to the strength of my flow.”

“Bless you,” he scoffed and just walked away.

They tend to leave their clothes around the house and they don’t always realize when it’s time to let some fresh air into the place either. Harry has a sixth sense wanting to use the bathroom when you’re in and Louis always forgets to get rid of his spoiled food from the fridge. Tini things that surely got you thinking if it was a good idea to move in with them. But then there are times when you can’t even imagine sharing a home with anyone else than these three idiots.

The way Harry always leaves you a cup of coffee on the counter when he has an early class on mondays and wednesdays, how Niall always waits for you to get home after your night shifts at the restaurant you’ve been working at, but he always just says he was watching Supernatural on TV. You love that Louis goes out of his way to get you your favorite pastry for breakfast on sundays when he goes for his morning runs. But the absolute best is that you never feel alone or bored with these three around. Something is always happening and they make sure to involve you in everything, making you feel like part of their little pack.

Tonight is Thursday and Thursdays are movie nights in your home. It’s been a tradition since the first week and you haven’t missed any of them. Sitting on the couch at your usual spot, you laugh as Niall growls in annoyance when you suggest to watch another rom-com.

“Not again!” he protests, sitting on the floor by the coffee table you and Harry thrifted a few months ago after the previous one was broken at a smaller party held in the house.

“Why? I bet Harry would love it!” you grin, glancing at the guy in talk who is now entering the room with a big bowl of popcorn.

“Of course he would, because he is a pussy! And the two of you always team up, dragging Louis with you so I can never watch something I enjoy!” Niall whines as Harry sits next to you, not too bothered by his friend’s cries.

“Come on, I bet you enjoyed Crazy, Stupid Love last week!” you laugh, remembering how he whined for the first part, then fell asleep at the end.

“Love, if you think that was enjoyment, I wouldn’t want to be your boyfriend,” Niall scoffs and you gasp at his reply.

“Hey!” you snap at him, but can’t help laughing. This is how it always goes with you and Niall, the non-stop bickering can sometimes drive Harry and Lou insane.

“Okay, so what do you want to watch?” Harry asks, throwing some popcorn into his mouth as he gets comfortable, an arm resting on the back of the couch behind you, the other one busy with the snack in his lap.

“There is this new horror I’ve been dying to see!” Niall’s blue eyes light up right away, but you’re fast to break that shine.

“Nah, no way. I’m not watching a horror movie.”

“Why not?”

“Because I fucking hate them and they scare the shit out of me.”

“That’s like the whole point!” he protests, but you shake your head no again.

“What are you fighting about again?” Louis asks, walking into the room after his quick shower, the smell of his body wash filling the room for a few moments.

“I want to watch a horror movie, but Y/N is a little baby and she doesn’t want to.”

“I’m not a baby! I just don’t enjoy watching people get killed or demons sucking the life out of someone!” Niall just rolls his eyes at your response.

“But it’s always what you or Harry wants to watch, why can’t I choose just this once?”

“That’s not true, we watch movies you like too!” you retort, but Niall gives you an unimpressed look. “We watched that crime thing, that was your choice!”

“That was three months ago, Y/N,” he sighs and as you do some quick math you realize that he is right.

“Hey, he has a point. Let’s just watch what he wants this one time, yeah?” Harry curls his arm that’s been on the back of the couch around your shoulder and he pulls you to his side, squeezing you gently.

“But I hate horrors,” you pout, knowing well that it’s already kind of settled, you lost this battle.

“It’s just a movie. And if you get scared in the night, you can sleep at mine,” he offers with a wink that surely makes your heartbeat fasten a bit.

If you’re being honest, you’ve always had a tiny crush on Harry, even back in high school, when you didn’t really know him. He was the cool guy, but not the douchebag type, more like the one that was nice to everyone and earned their respect and liking. Getting to know him just proved that he really is a great guy, but you figured he would never feel the same way about you. These three guys only saw you as their sister and that was in a way kinda worse than being friend zoned, but there’s nothing you can do about it, so you just decided to come to peace with your situation. But that doesn’t mean you don’t get flustered when you see him wander around the house in just his boxers or when he gets a little touchy with you, which happens a lot, because that’s just how he is. Hands on your shoulders, a little squeeze on your hips, the gentle touch of his fingers on your back, they happen all the time and they get your pulse up every time. You can only hope it’s not that noticeable.

Niall finally gets what he wants and you agree to watch that stupid horror movie. It doesn’t start off too bad, but it quickly escalates and makes you shudder every time the screen gets a little darker or the music is foreshadowing that something is about to happen.

“Jesus fuck!” you jump a little when the killer appears out of nowhere in the scene.

“You alright?” Harry asks, peeking down at you.

“I fucking hate this dude,” you mumble, rubbing your face with your hands, to get your shit together. Harry chuckles lightly next to you, his arm pulling you to his side close and you gladly sink against him, the warmth of his body giving you some comfort and a sense of safety.

Your eyes are on the screen, but your mind is dancing around how his fingers are delicately running up and down your arm, drawing circles and little shapes on your skin. It could put you to sleep easily, even with the woman screaming on the screen after seeing her husband get killed.

“Just imagine the guy with a funny mustache,” Harry murmurs, leaning closer to you so he doesn’t bother the other two guys with his comment. “Or maybe in a ridiculous outfit.”

“Like… in a onsie?” you ask, squinting your eyes at the screen.

“Could be, yeah,” he chuckles quietly. “Just imagine him running through the woods in a onsie with bunnies all over it.”

You can’t push your laughter down, covering your mouth with your hand so you don’t bother the others. Harry just smirks, giving you a squeeze as you’re still melted against his side on the couch, legs pulled up to your chest, while his are spread out in front of him.

“Definitely not that scary,” you giggle and Harry hums in agreement.

“Would you mind getting a fucking room, you guys? You have two, in fact!” Niall snaps at you playfully, when you start laughing again.

“Sorry, sorry!” you clear your throat, your cheeks heating up at the comment, but luckily it’s dark enough to hide your embarrassment. Niall is always quick to make dirty jokes and tease you in a way that makes you nervous, especially when it involves Harry as well. He has made plenty of comments about you and Harry since you’ve moved in, implying that the two of you sometimes act like a couple or that you should hook up. Harry is always quick to shake them off, that’s how you know he couldn’t even take the thought seriously.

At the end of the movie you feel like it wasn’t bad, not with Harry holding you close at least.

“Will you be screaming tonight, Y/N?” Niall teases you, making you roll your eyes at him.

“Either way it’s gonna be your fault.”

“I can live with that!” he laughs, bidding his goodbye before he shuts the door of his bedroom behind him.

You do your usual evening routine, get ready to bed and by the time you’re done in the bathroom all the boys have retired into their rooms. The hallway stands dark in front of you, only a tiny bit of light coming from your bedroom since you left your bedside lamp on in there, but you still can’t help the eerie feeling that washes over you. That movie didn’t sit right with you and now you have to face the aftermath of it.

Switching the lights in the bathroom off you sprint into your bedroom, pictures from the movie flashing in your mind of the killer just jumping out of nowhere. You shut the door and lean your back against it for a moment, taking a deep breath. Tonight is going to be long.

No matter how hard you try, you just can’t fall asleep. You’re way too alerted, opening your eyes at the tiniest of sounds around you, which is unfortunate, because your window is looking over the main street, unlike two other rooms in the house, that are facing the small backyard. Harry and Louis have the luck to have those rooms.

Every time you’re about to fall asleep something from the movie sneaks into your thoughts and you get scared to death. Soon, you realize you won’t be able to sleep on your own tonight.

Sitting on the edge of your bed, you wonder if Harry really meant that offer that you can sleep with him or not. Part of you is convinced it was just a joke, but when you hear someone shouting down the street you push your doubts aside and you quickly find yourself making your way to Harry’s room.

You knock on the room lightly, not wanting to wake anyone else up. The last thing you need is Niall seeing you go into Harry’s room in the middle of the night.

No answer comes from inside, but you won’t just leave it at that. Opening the door you’re facing another dark room, barely making out the furniture, but you already know the route by heart. Making it to the bed your eyes finally adjust to the darkness and you can see Harry lying on his side, sleeping peacefully. Squatting down you place a hand to his shoulder and give him a tiny shake.

“Harry?” you call out quietly, but his answer is just a huff. “Harry, it’s me,” you try again, squeezing his arm. He furrows his eyebrows before slowly blinking his eyes open, finding you in his sight.

“Y/N? What’s wrong?” he asks in that groggy, low voice you love hearing in the morning so much.

“I can’t… Did you mean that I can sleep here if I’m scared?” you ask, afraid that he might just have a good laugh and send you back to your room. For a long moment, he just blinks at you before nodding his head and you feel relief washing over you.

“Sure,” he hums.

“O-okay then I’ll bring a blanket and take the floor and--”

“Shut up, you are not sleeping on the floor,” he growls, grabbing your wrist and pulling you into bed with him as he scoots over, making you space on the mattress.

It’s a bit weird at first, lying in bed with Harry, especially because it’s just queen sized, so there’s not much space between the two of you, but it seems like Harry doesn’t mind it so why should you?

Your nerves are a lot calmer with Harry next to you, but maybe it’s still because of the movie or because you’re a bit anxious about the whole situation, you just still can’t relax enough to fall asleep.

“Y/N, no one is gonna kill you here,” Harry speaks up surprising you because you thought he has already fallen back asleep.

“I know, I know,” you whisper, trying to sound convincing, but you can’t fool anyone, especially not him.

He huffs deeply and before you could realize what’s happening, Harry’s arm is curled around your waist, pulling you against him, spooning you from behind, the warmth of his body wrapping your figure almost entirely.

“If a murderer comes, they will have to fight me first, alright? Now sleep,” he mumbles against your hair, squeezing you gently. All at once, you couldn’t care about killers and dark shadows around you, because Harry was right there, holding you tight and there was nowhere you wanted to be more than right there.

You slept like a baby. Harry’s closeness kept every nightmare away from you and the morning came with ease. Harry’s phone wakes the two of you up at eight, because he has a morning class at 9.30. The two of you are completely tangled up in each other, lying on your side facing each other, Harry’s arms are wrapped around you, while yours are hugging his waist. Groaning at the sound of his alarm, he rolls to his back to reach for the phone on the nightstand and then he finally turns it off. It’s bright outside, the darkness of the night finally long gone. You’re still groggy when Harry rolls back, his arm coming back around you like it’s the most natural thing in the world and in a sense, it feels like that. But as you both slowly wake up, you realize that you might be a little too close. Slowly but surely you let go of each other, rolling to your back, staring up at the ceiling.

“Hope I didn’t kick you in my sleep,” you smile at him, peeking over at him, hoping to break the awkwardness of the situation.

“No, don’t worry about it,” he chuckles, rubbing his eyes, before pushing himself up and off the bed. You follow him with your gaze as he steps to his dresser and grabs a pair of clean underwear. “I’ll put on a coffee while I shower, want one too?” he asks, though you know he could make one for you anyway.

“Sure, thank you,” you nod and he nods back, yawning as he walks out of the room, leaving you lying in his bed, a bit confused and kind of aching to be held by him again.

Two days pass by, everything is going as per usual, neither you nor Harry brings up that you spent the night in his bed that one particular time. Now it’s saturday and you all were planning to go out, but a sudden storm has cancelled your plans, so the evening turned into a cozy, lazy hangout instead of a wild party at some frat house.

Louis decided to work on a paper that’s due in two weeks, Niall has been relentlessly swiping on Tinder while you and Harry are spawled out on the couch, watching some shitty action movie that was on TV, since you both were too lazy to choose one and put it on. Deep down you’re a little happy you don’t have to spend the evening in a crowded, smelly house, drinking cheap alcohol.

Harry gets up from his seat to grab himself a drink just when Niall growls in annoyance.

“What is it?” you ask.

“They keep unmatching with me after we’ve talked a little!”

“Have you thought about the reason?” you smirk at him, knowing well that Niall probably isn’t the easiest to talk to, he surely takes it too far too soon.

“Well they probably don’t like that I ask them if I can go over,” he shrugs, making you laugh.

“You’d go over in the pouring rain?” Harry asks, returning to his spot on the couch. He puts his drink to the coffee table and instead of sitting into his previous position, leaning against the arm of the couch, he lies down, laying his head to your thigh, making your breath hitch for a moment.

“Of course not!” Niall rolls his eyes. “But I thought it would make them think I would do anything for them.”

“It makes you seem desperate,” Harry retorts, earning a questioning look from his friend. “What? It does!”

“No, it doesn’t.”

“Yes it does,” you nod in agreement. “Going over in the middle of a storm just to fuck? Sounds like you’re having a hard time finding someone.”

“Women are so fucking complicated, and for what?!” he growls, before storming off to his bedroom, like an angsty teenager, leaving you and Harry alone.

He doesn’t move, his head stays on your thigh using it as a pillow. His curls are tickling the soft skin on your thigh and you have to fight the urge to play with his hair or scratch his scalp. You stay like this for the rest of the movie and when he gets up you almost want to pull him back.

“Alright, I’m fucked, I’m gonna go to bed,” he yawns, stretching his arms out into the air as he heads into his bedroom. “Good night, Y/N.”

“Night, Harry!” you call after him as you watch his frame disappear down the hallway.

Sighing, you slide down on the couch, cursing under your breath that you’re still so hung up on Harry. You really thought that you had it under control, but lately those damn butterflies are acting up in your stomach at everything he does.

“I’m pathetic,” you mumble under your breath just as the sky rumbles outside with a blinding lightning, making you jump with a squeak. “Shit,” you huff, already knowing that falling asleep will be a pain in the ass. Again.

You’ve always hated storms, they make you think that something bad is about to happen, a tree is about to fall into the window or a lightning will blow up the building. It’s kind of stupid, you know it, but you just can’t help it.

Tossing and turning, you jump every time a lightning flashes somewhere outside and a few seconds later the thunder rips through your whole body, almost making you fall off the bed.

“Oh God,” you let out a shaky breath. You have no idea how long it is until the Storm finally stops and you’d really like to have a good night's sleep. So pushing your anxious thoughts to the side, you get out of bed and head over to Harry’s room once again.

It’s such a deja vu from a few nights ago, as you gently knock on the door you wait again, but this time you actually get an answer.

“Yeah?” you hear him call out from inside and you slowly open the door, peeking your head inside. Harry is lying in bed, his head propped up against the headboard as he is scrolling through his phone. “Y/N? What’s wrong?” he asks, putting the phone aside as he sits up.

“I just, I-I know it’s stupid, but I was thinking… I don’t know--”

“Y/N, just tell me, alright? Come on in,” he gestures for you and you slip into the room, closing the door behind you before sitting to the edge of the bed next to him. “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t sleep during storms…” you admit, looking into his eyes, hoping he gets the hint where you want to head with it. He stares back at you for a moment before he scoots over, lifting the covers up, giving you the green light to join him.

Relieved, you climb over to him, making yourself comfortable as he wraps the blanket over you, his arm immediately coming to cradle you, this time pulling you to his chest so your head is laid upon his shoulder, a hand gently placed onto his hard chest, probably right above where his butterfly tattoo is adorning his abdomen.

This is now easily your favorite place. Safe and tight in Harry’s arms, protected from anything and everything, like you’re in a little bubble as soon as you get on his bed.

Lightning strikes outside again and you shiver a little. Harry probably notices it, because he tightens his hold around you, as if it’s his way telling you that he is here and nothing bad is gonna happen. Eventually, you’re able to shut the outside out and only focus on Harry’s warmth, the touch of his hand on your arm and his even breathing. And then finally, you drift off to sleep.

This morning is different from the previous one you spent here. There’s no alarm since it’s Sunday, neither of you have anything in particular to do, so you wake up feeling rested, the Sun shining through his half drawn in curtains, no trace of last night’s storm can be noticed from where you’re lying in bed, the sky is as clear as ever. Sometime during the night you got tangled in a way where Harry is the one now cuddling you, his head lying on your chest, hugging you as if you were a giant teddy bear, his leg thrown between yours, lightly snoring against your sleep shirt. You can only see his mop of hair and the urge to play with them is back, but this time, you give in.

Leaving one hand on his back, you move the other one to his unruly locks, gently playing with one before you comb your fingers through it, lightly scratching his scalp. Harry hums in pleasure, shifting from his dreams back to reality, but he doesn’t move, just keeps humming as you massage his scalp.

“It’s not a good morning, it’s the best,” he mumbles groggily, making you chuckle at his words.

One of his hands is flat against your ribcage and the damned butterflies start dancing when you feel his fingers gently stroke your side as you keep playing with his curls. This feels so idyllic, as if you’ve been like this forever. You wish that was true.

Groaning as he stretches, Harry rolls to his back, making you instantly miss his body pressed against yours. He rubs his eyes, sighing deep as he blinks up at the ceiling a few times, then he turns his head to the side, looking at you.

Just when he is about to say something, outside his door it sounds like someone just broke a pile of plates and it’s followed by Niall’s usual annoyed growl. You both get out of bed to go and check what happened, not even thinking about how it might appear that you both are coming from Harry’s room in the morning.

Harry flings the door open and there is Niall, collecting pieces of a plate from the floor, his breakfast scattered down the hallway as well while he curses under his breath.

“What happened?” Harry asks, picking up a bigger piece from the plate.

“Fucking tripped,” he growls back, glancing up just for a moment, then back down, but then he processes that you’re standing behind Harry, in his room, in the morning. “What the fuck are you doing in Harry’s room?” he bluntly asks, quickly forgetting about the mess he just made.

“What?” you ask nervously, your pulse quickening in an instant. Harry stands up, seemingly not too bothered by Niall’s question.

“You slept in his room?!”

“She did,” Harry answers, leaning against the doorframe.

“Wait, are you two fucking?” Niall’s eyes widen, snapping back and forth between you and Harry.

“Just because two people sleep in the same bed, doesn’t mean they are fucking, Niall,” Harry chuckles, seemingly amused by the situation that’s got your stomach knotted. Louis’ door opens and he walks out, his hair a little messy, but already dressed, a mug halfway filled with coffee in his hand.

“Wha’s this circus out here?” he asks, looking around, his eyes scanning over the mess on the floor.

“Did you know these two are fucking?” Niall asks him and Harry lets his head drop back at his words.

“Are you?” Louis simply questions and you shake your head no.

“We are not. Y/N can’t sleep in a storm so she came over to mine.”

“Funny, she doesn’t come to me when she’s scared,” Niall scoffs.

“I never came to you because you don’t understand that sleeping together doesn’t mean sex,” you retort, though your ears are practically burning from the rising anxiety inside you.

“Wait, whoa. This wasn’t the first time you two slept together?”

“She was scared after your stupid horror movie too,” Harry shrugs.

“Wow, so are you guys a thing now or what?”

“Niall!” Harry growls and you’re not entirely sure what bothers you more. Niall’s shock and interrogation or the way Harry seems so cool and unbothered, like it’s no big deal. Maybe because for him it really isn’t, it’s only about the sleeping, nothing else, even though the cuddles are a little beyond the lines of friendship.

“What? I’m just asking the important stuff! Am I not allowed to tell dirty jokes to Y/N because you’ll cut my prick off?”

“You shouldn’t tell those anyway,” Louis chimes in and you nod in agreement.

Seeing that the conversation is just getting more and more awkward with each passing moment you decide to pull yourself out of it. Pushing yourself past Harry you mumble an excuse me before rushing back into your room, the three boys eyeing you curiously as you shut the door behind you, finally putting a physical barrier between you and them.

You shouldn’t be this offended, it’s not like any promises were made and you should have known better and not fall for him more than you already did. It was silly of you to think that there was anything more behind these nights spent curled up against each other, or when you woke up tangled and melted together. It was never what you hoped it to be.

Then and there you decide it’s better if you distanced yourself from him, or at least go back to how it was before. No bed sharing, no cuddling and preferably no bitter feelings.

It all goes well, because you have a pretty busy week after that day, you always have something to do and it’s not like you spent the night with Harry randomly, so it was evident that you stayed in your room so far.

But about a week later another storm was threatening to strike. The sky was gradually darkening all afternoon and now it’s only five o’clock, but it feels like eight. It’s Sunday, you’re quite exhausted since you were working until three. Niall was out somewhere with some of his coursemates and Louis went home for the weekend, won’t be back until Tuesday. It’s just you and Harry, who’s been sprawled out on the couch in only his sweatpants while you’re making yourself an early dinner so you can go to bed soon and have a good night’s sleep.

It doesn’t take long for the rain to start pouring, you’ve just gotten out of the shower when the first thunder rips through the place, making you gasp in fear. Harry’s head snaps around, looking in your way where you’re standing at the bathroom door, a questioning look in his eyes, but he doesn’t say a word. Ignoring his gaze, you just make your way into your bedroom, not even thinking about what could be on his mind. Is he thinking about whether you’ll ask to sleep with him again or he doesn’t care about it at all?

By the time you are ready to go to bed, the storm is fully raging outside, making your insides tremble every time you see a lightning or the thunder breaks the quietness in the house. You make one last trip to the kitchen, finding Harry leaned against the counter as he eats an apple.

“Going to bed early?” he asks as you pour yourself some water.

“Mhm,” you nod, avoiding looking at him.

“Everything alright?”

“Sure, I’m just tired,” you force a small smile onto your face just when a thunder rumbles outside, making you jump. Harry is watching you curiously and kind of expectantly, but you’re doing your best ignoring it. Instead, you just grab your water and head back to your room. “Good night.”

“Night, Y/N,” he calls after you, and you can feel his burning gaze on your back right until you close the door behind you.

Your plan to sleep a good ten hours goes right out the window. It doesn’t seem like the storm is about to calm anytime soon, so you’re stuck to suffer through it on your own. You’ll be damned to go to Harry’s, that would be an instant heart break and you just can’t take that right now. Long, torturous hours pass by with you lying awake in bed and part of you wants to go running over to Harry, but you force yourself to stay. It’s not happening tonight.

You fall asleep sometime after two in the morning when the thunder and lightning have stopped. Unfortunately, you need to wake up early in the morning, so when your phone’s alarm shakes you out of your sleep, you feel like absolute shit. Dragging yourself out of bed appears to be the hardest thing right now. As you make your way out, you are met with an all too familiar figure sitting at the small dining table, two cups of coffees in front of him, one obviously made for you.

Harry’s eyes snap up at you curiously, taking in your terrible looks as you head to the bathroom.

“Morning,” you mumble under your breath.

“Good morning’,” he nods in your way and though he doesn’t say anything else, you can tell he has a few thoughts about your current state.

Once you’re done with your morning business in there you join him at the table, barely able to keep your eyes open.

“Rough night?” he asks, eyes examining your face.

“Kinda.”

“The storm?”

You don’t answer, just nod your head. He remains silent, but you can feel that he is dying to ask another question.

Why didn’t you come over?

You’re glad he doesn’t actually asks you, because you wouldn’t be able to give either a normal answer or say anything without starting to cry. Instead, you just grab your coffee and head back into your bedroom to get ready for the day.

That week on Friday all four of you are invited to a party. At first you want to cancel, but some of your friends from classes will be there too and it’s been ages since you’ve been to a great party, so you decide to tag along with the boys.

For the first half of the evening you go your separate way, spending time with people you don’t actually live with and see every day. One drink follows the other, though you make sure you don’t go farther than getting tipsy. You’re not in the mood to deal with a nasty hangover in the morning.

Sometime after your third or fourth drink you run into Niall and he pulls you into their little circle that also involves Harry. When he sees that you’ve joined them, his eyes light up and goes out of his way to get next to you.

“I haven’t seen you in ages!” he whines, slurring his words as he wraps an arm around your shoulders to keep you at his side. He is definitely drunk, that you’re sure of.

“It’s been just about two hours, Harry,” you roll your eyes, but can’t push your smile down. You’d be lying if you said you’re not enjoying having him so close. Your dynamic hasn’t been the same since you stopped sleeping in his bed. Not that it was such a regular activity, it only happened two times.

“But I missed you, I feel like we haven’t… haven’t talked in so long!” he huffs, knitting his eyebrows together. “Have you been avoiding me?” he asks leaning closer, so your conversation can somewhat be private.

“That’s silly. Of course I haven’t!”

“But it feels like that,” he pouts with glossy eyes. “You’d tell me if something was wrong, right?”

“Sure,” you nod, the bitter taste of lying filling your mouth.

“Alright, cool,” he smirks and pulling closer he kisses into your hair before he engages with the rest of the group again, keeping his arm around you as if it wasn’t a big deal.

For the rest of the evening you simply don’t leave his side and not because he doesn’t let you, but because you don’t want to. Harry is not the only one missing the other, this week you’ve noticed that even though you’ve been keeping yourself busy, your thoughts always took you back to one particular, curly haired boy. Despite everything that’s been going on, he is your friend first and foremost who you love spending time with and talking about anything and everything.

Both of you are intoxicated, Harry a bit more than you, but you’re having a blast playing beerpong or ruining Niall’s chances with girls he is trying to pick up. You’re genuinely having an amazing time and it wouldn’t be the same without Harry.

Arriving back home your little group splits, everyone using the bathroom after the other and you’re the last one in line, because you always take the longest. By the time you’re finished, Louis and Niall are both locked up in their rooms, but Harry’s door is still open, some dim lighting illuminating the hallway. As you approach it, you find him throwing his dirty clothes into the hamper, but his head perks up when he sees you.

“Good night, H,” you sigh, quite tired and in need of a good sleep, but before you could head into your own bedroom, Harry grabs your wrist and pulls you into his. “What is it?”

“Sleep here,” he simply prompts, already leading you to the bed.

“Why?”

“Because I want you to.”

“I-I… I don’t--” you stutter, feeling flustered from his offer.

“Come on, you can’t say no,” he tells you, already crawling under his covers and then he holds them up as the invitation.

Taking a deep breath you follow him and make yourself comfortable in your almost usual spot. Harry’s arm falls over your waist in an instant, spooning you from behind as he hums pleased. But a few moments later he lifts his head, looking at you with concern in his eyes.

“You know you can say no, right? I was just joking.” Looking back at him you give him a small smile. Even drunk he makes sure you aren’t doing anything you don’t want to, but how could you not want it? You’ve been aching to sleep next to him all week, especially after the last storm when you suffered alone in your room.

“I know, Harry.”

“Alright, okay,” he nods, his head dropping back to the pillow. “I missed this,” he mumbles with a sigh.

“Yeah?”

“Mm, sleeping alone sucks,” he hums and in a split second, your heart breaks.

Harry didn’t want to sleep with you, he just wanted to sleep with someone and you were the one there. It has nothing to do with you.

You want to blame him, you want it to be his fault that your chest is now aching, knowing that it truly doesn’t mean the same thing to him it does to you, but you know you can’t. It wouldn’t be fair, so once again, you’re left with a sinking heart wrapped up into Harry’s embrace that suddenly feels burning.

“Good night, Y/N.”

“Good night, Harry.”

When the morning comes Harry is still sleeping deep beside you, an arm thrown over your waist, puffing warm air against the side of your head with every breath he exhales. Seeing him so peaceful warms your heart, but then you realize everything that happened last night, how he only used you because you were available and not because he wanted you.

You don’t want to wait for him to wake up and face him, your emotions would surely bring the best out of you. So carefully, you unwrap yourself from his hold and sneak out of his room, back into yours.

There’s no way you can face Harry right now, so before he could wake up you leave, planning on spending the day in the library, working on your assignments, hoping the school work will take your mind off of how badly you’ve been friendzoned.

Sometime after eleven Harry actually texts you asking where you went and you just tell him you have a shitload of school stuff to deal with. He asks if he can join you, but you tell him you’re with a group of your classmates, even though you’re sitting in an almost entirely empty library. He luckily doesn’t push it and leaves you to be. Hopefully he’ll be fine when you take another step away from him for a while to get your head straight and sort your emotions out.

You get home quite late, but not late enough, apparently. Because walking into the house you find the boys clearly getting ready to watch a movie.

“Just in time!” Niall beams. “Join us, Princess!” he laughs, grabbing himself a cola from the fridge.

“Oh, no, I have some things to work on--”

“Come on, you’ve been in the library all day, you can have a break!” Louis tells you and you know you won’t be left alone, they are just so persistent.

So you join them in your usual spot, which is of course next to Harry, though you’re trying to avoid his gaze that hasn’t left you since you arrived and by now you’re certain he knows you’re avoiding him. There’s a reason why he asked you last night if you’ve been doing it lately, he is not stupid, but this is not the time to deal with it.

With your inner crisis bubbling inside you, you completely forget to ask what you’re watching. A few minutes into the movie it becomes quite clear however.

“Is this a fucking horror movie again?” you ask, snapping at Niall, who just starts laughing.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure Harry will gladly let you sleep in his bed tonight,” he teases, making your whole face heat up at his comment. Harry slaps his chest before he turns to you with concern filled eyes, but you pretend like you see nothing, turning back to the screen with your jaw clenched.

You’re fucked.

The movie is a fucking shitshow and leaves you traumatized. When it’s over, you think about why didn’t you just stand up and go into your room when you realized it’s another horror. For a change, this one was filled with demons and monsters that hide in the shadows, just what you need before going to bed. In the night. In a totally dark room.

Exiting the bathroom you’re already planning on watching something lighthearted and cheerful in your room, hoping that would make you forget the movie you just saw and give you the chance to actually sleep.

Walking past Harry’s room you see that it’s still open and you catch him expectantly looking at you when you appear in the doorway as you walk down the hallway, your eyes meeting for just a split second before you disappear from his sight and shut your bedroom door without a word behind you.

No matter how many random videos you watch on YouTube, some scenes from the movie are just imprinted into your mind and they have you trembling in fear. Every shadow looks like a demon or ghost, hiding in your room, ready to haunt and kill you and you’re on the verge of actually crying. It might not be only because of the movie, more like everything else that’s been bottled up inside you, added to the fear the movie has brought to you.

Shutting your eyes closed you try to take deep breaths and for a bit it actually seems to help, but that is until you hear the door opening. It gives you an instant heart attack and you can’t keep your tears back anymore.

A whimper leaves your mouth as the door opens and you can only see a shadow entering the room, totally not recognizing Harry in the dark.

“Y/N, hey, it’s just me! It’s okay!” he quickly clears, seeing how shaken up you are. He rushes over to the bed, one hand cupping your cheek, the other one finding your hand and before you could think, you grip it hard.

“You scared the living hell out of me!” you cry out, sobbing.

“I’m sorry, I just wanted to check on you.”

Silence sets between the two of you that’s only momentarily broken by your shaky breaths as you try to calm yourself down.

“Why didn’t you come to mine after the movie if you were so scared?” he then asks, surprising you with how straightforward he is.

“I didn’t want to bother you,” you mumble, blinking the remaining of the tears away as Harry stares down at you intently.

“Why would you think you’d bother me? I like having you there.”

“But it’s… Doesn’t matter,” you sigh in defeat, but it just concerns him even more.

“No, tell me!”

“Harry, just go back to your room. I’ll be fine.”

“You definitely won’t and I’m not leaving until you don’t tell me what’s going on,” he protests firmly and you lose your patience to keep lying to him.

“You just wanted someone to sleep with yesterday, okay? You didn’t need me. And… I don’t want to depend on you more than I should.”

Harry stares back at you with a blank expression and you feel like this is going to be the end of your friendship. You have to come clean about your feelings and he’ll tell you that he doesn’t feel the same way. But then he speaks up and the tables turn faster than ever.

“Y/N, I wanted you to sleep with me last night. Not just anyone. You.”

“What?”

“I really thought we have been on the same page, but apparently, we’re not even in the same book,” he sighs, confusing you even more. “Wasn’t it suspicious how things have been between us lately? The way we slept, the mornings, did you think these are normal things to do?”

“I-I thought that… it didn’t mean anything to you.”

“Well it did,” he replies and you breath hitches in your throat. “I was trying to take it slow, see how you’d react to everything and I thought you were feeling the same way. But then last time you didn’t come to my room when there was a storm and I thought that was your way of telling me that you want to pause whatever’s been going on.”

You’re just blinking in shock, listening to his words. This is nothing you expected.

“But then you seemed like you opened back up last night and you agreed to sleep with me, thought we were back on track, but then you were nowhere to be found in the morning, avoided me all day and now you would have rather spent the night crying here alone than to come over to me. What did I do? Just tell me, because quite frankly, I have no idea what we are doing anymore, Y/N,” he sighs, clearly tired of this insane game you’ve been playing without even knowing.

“So… you did all of this, because… you…”

“Because I like you, Y/N. But there’s a possibility it’s already way more than just a strong liking,” he admits with a soft chuckle that melts you in an instant.

“Oh god, I could cry again, but not out of fear this time,” you tell him, making him laugh as you scoot closer to him on the mattress. “I feel the same way, Harry,” you softly tell him, your hands finding the base of his neck while his hands have wandered to your waist so now he is pulling you towards him until he ends up in his lap. His face is now so close, and even in the dark, you can see the cheesy smile on his pink lips.

“You’re not saying this just to keep me here because you’re scared to be alone, right?” he asks, clearly joking, earning a wholehearted laugh from you.

“No, but I guess that would be a major benefit of it.”

“I’ll protect you from all the demons and killers under one condition,” he smirks, his face already inching closer, his nose is already touching yours.

“Yeah? And what’s that?”

“I get to kiss you.”

“Deal.”

You barely say this one little word, his lips are already on yours, kissing you in a way that almost knocks all the air out of your lungs. You press yourself up against him, his arms curling around you, holding you tight as if he is already protecting you from everything that scares you, though you can’t really think about the stupid horror movies now that you’re kissing Harry.

He pulls you down with himself making you lie on your back as he holds himself up above you, his lips parting from your just enough so he can look into your eyes.

“How about I kiss you every time you feel scared?” he prompts, pecking your lips gently as you pull your legs up and his hips settle between your thighs, while your hands dance down his back.

“Alright, I’m in,” you smirk at him and for a moment he just stares back at you, smiling wide, in complete awe that it’s finally happening. Then he cocks his head to the side before speaking up.

“Are you still scared?”

“Very,” you nod. “I’m shaking.”

“Good,” he grins before his lips press onto yours again.

Thank you for reading! Please like/reblog if you enjoyed!

[dulce-pjm]

takes two to tango

word count: 3.0k

genre: fluff, absolutely tooth-rotting 

summary: hoseok solved his problems and got the girl. he’d worked up the courage to ask you out and now life couldn’t be better, living as your boyfriend. but what’s the point of dating if he can’t even kiss you?

Damn. Hoseok was a real loser, wasn’t he?

Three weeks, three fucking weeks of dating you and he hasn’t been able to kiss you once. 

He’d thought the hard part was over when he was finally able to spit out that he liked you before finals and asked you on a date. After a semester of desperate pining and you being completely oblivious to his flirting attempts, he thought the worst was over. 

But alas, no. 

Your one-month anniversary was rapidly approaching and Hoseok has yet to lock lips with you. 

Maybe it’s stupid to be so caught up over such a small thing. But Hoseok likes you and he really doesn’t think it’s too much to ask for and he’d just really, really like to kiss you. 

It wasn’t like he hadn’t tried. He’d gone through all the steps, even resorting to the cheap tricks he’d used in high school. But the timing was always shit or something stupid got in the way. It felt like the universe had it out for him, putting the chance just within his grasp before promptly yanking it away in the most inconvenient (and sometimes embarrassing) manner possible. 

Should Hoseok be grateful for the time he’s already gotten to spend with you? Yes. And he is. You’re spectacular. A joy to be around. You kept him guessing and laughing and happy. 

Actually, he’d actually kind of already gotten his wish. You’d kissed him on the cheek in joy after watching your team win whilst on an ice hockey date. You turned out to be surprisingly (and scarily) competitive, which Hoseok found all the more adorable. Despite being a small gesture born from the exciting moment, he’d found himself giggly and shy, melting from the attention. That night, while walking you home in the cold, he’d snuck a quick peck on your forehead before bidding you good night. He found himself wishing he’d done more as you disappeared behind your door, smiling to yourself.

But Hoseok was human. He was greedy. He just wanted one, small, teeny weeny little thing. And that thing was to kiss you on the lips, goddammit.

You weren’t his first girlfriend. He isn’t an amateur at this. 

So why was it so fucking hard?

His first attempt was on your second date. Which, admittedly, might be a little soon but it actually wasn’t even his attempt. It was yours. The two of you were ice skating when he kept catching you staring at him. 

“What, is there something on my face?” You’d giggled, reaching up your hand and lightly tapping his nose. 

“You just look cold. And very cute.” Despite attempting to maintain a cool facade, the compliment had Hoseok reeling. His cheeks only grew warmer as you leaned upwards, eyes becoming half-lidded. He’d grinned, ducking down to meet you halfway. 

It was perfect. 

Until your skates suddenly lost traction and you slipped, lips colliding with his shoulder instead of his face. 

Caught off guard, the both of you tumbled to the ground. In a movie, it might have been even more romantic. But in reality, falling on ice hurts like a fucking bitch. It took an entire minute for you both to get back on your feet, laughing and shouting from the pain along the way. 

Cold and traumatized and bruised, the two of you shuffled back to the entrance while clutching onto each other for dear life, kiss long forgotten. 

You both swore never to go ice skating again. 

Hoseok’s actual first attempt had been at a small Christmas party. Hoseok’s Christmas party, in fact. It was for a small dance exercise class he led every Monday through the university. It was through that same class that he met you, actually. You and several of your friends were regulars, and soon he was smitten. He wasn’t sure whether it was your laugh or your smile or your unending optimism that drew him in, only that he had fallen for you and hard. You two, along with the rest of the group, had naturally gotten close over the past semester, so Hoseok decided to give the group one last hurrah together via a small Christmas party just after everyone finished their exams. 

While everyone else was pigging out on brownies or getting drunk off of cheap beer or karaoke-ing to the best of their abilities (which was pretty god-awful), you and Hoseok were camped out in the corner, trying your best to put together a gingerbread house. 

You were failing magnificently, but that didn’t make the activity any less fun. Hoseok was in charge of holding the pieces while you piped icing, with you naturally taking every opportunity to swipe bits of the white fluff on his nose and cheeks and forehead. He’d cried out in protest, promising to exact his revenge, but he cared too much about this stupid gingerbread house to move his hands and risk the whole thing collapsing. 

But before you could even get to the decorating stage, the whole thing shattered. Literally shattered. You blamed it on Hoseok, claiming he’d been gripping it so hard that the pieces snapped in two. He, in turn, blamed it on you for being such a distraction. 

While the two of you were playfully bickering, one of your friends snuck up behind the table with a bunch of mistletoe. 

“Kiss already, ya lovebirds!” she’d cried, clearly having one (or three) too many beers. The entire class was painfully invested in your relationship, so it only made sense that they’d also tease you about it relentlessly. 

The two of you glanced up at the green leaves and then back at each other. A pitchy rendition of ‘Silent Night’ echoed throughout the room. Hoseok smiled and leaned in, muttering something about “tradition” and “giving the people what they want, Y/N.”

His eyes fluttered closed as his lips approached yours, his last thought being how nice you looked and how warm his heart felt. 

It was perfect. 

And then you wiped a massive blob of thick white icing across his entire face. He’d gasped while you and the rest of the party burst into a fit of giggles. 

“I’m sorry-” You choked on your laughter, tears sprung from your eyes. “-Hoseok, the opportunity was just too good! You should have seen your face!” He didn’t have it in him to be mad at you, not when your laugh was that adorable. 

Instead, he’d rubbed his frosting-covered cheek all over yours for revenge as you screeched and struggled against his grip. By the end of the night, both of your cheeks were aching from laughter. 

But still, no kiss. 

At your annual New Years’ Party, he’d tried a different strategy: being slick. 

The two of you were pleasantly tipsy but not quite drunk. And the alcohol gave Hoseok just enough courage to try kissing you again. 

While perched on two barstools around your kitchen island, he’d casually thrown his arm around your shoulder while you were babbling about some story a friend had told you. He’d tried to listen, he really did, but what was a guy supposed to you when you looked as cute as you did?

“I mean, what are the odds? They saw each other in standstill traffic, Hobi. Isn’t that so romantic?” 

“Mhmm.” Feeling the weight of his arm, you moved to look his way and felt your face getting very hot very quickly with the way he was gazing at you. 

“Hobi?” He was much too caught up in how soft your lips looked from here, slightly parted and inviting. Everything about you was soft and sweet.

His eyes flickered back to yours, shimmering under the mood lighting. 

He shifted forward, not loosening his gaze for even a second. He was going to relish every second of this, every second of you. 

It was so perfect. 

But in his drunken stupor, Hoseok hadn’t quite noticed the way his barstool was wobbling until it was too late and he tumbled to the floor. 

You immediately freaked, rushing to his aid. While your concern was genuine and made Hoseok happy that you cared for him, he couldn’t help but be disappointed. The mood was dead once you lugged him to the couch and, despite his protests, insisted he lie down for a while and instructed him to not touch any more alcohol, worried that he’d injure himself further. The night ended kiss-free and with Hoseok falling asleep before the clock struck twelve, missing the countdown. 

But last weekend? Now that was the final straw. 

The two of you had decided to catch a drive-in movie, some silly rom-com. You’d suggested a holiday-themed horror movie, but Hoseok was quick to shut that idea down. Not only was he a coward, but he wasn’t sure how the hell he was supposed to be romantic when there were demons threatening to jump-scare him every three seconds. 

As the two leads finally began confessing their feelings in the final act of the movie, Hoseok looked to you. He found you staring right back, as if you knew this was coming. 

His hand lifted to cup your cheek as the male lead cried “I love you!” Your hands slid behind the back of his neck as your eyes shut and the two of you grew closer and closer, lips mere millimeters apart. Hoseok could smell your lavender shampoo and cherry lip gloss, could even count your lashes from here.

It was so fucking perfect. The epitome of romance. As the two leads passionately confessed, Hoseok and you were about to share your first kiss. 

And then some idiot fell asleep on their horn, sending the obnoxious, blaring sound echoing throughout the drive-in lot. Hoseok shrieked, absolutely startled to the core. 

“For fuck’s sake!” he’d cried, throwing himself back in the driver’s seat. 

You’d found immense humor in his pouting and tried to tease him back into his old self, but the moment was long gone. Hoseok cursed the male lead for being able to get his girl when he was so clearly suffering. You held his hand for the rest of the film and jokingly critiqued it on the way home. But it wasn’t enough. Hoseok had just one thing he wanted and he couldn’t even accomplish that.

And now, he had a vendetta against the whole fucking universe. 

He was going to kiss you if it killed him. And it was going to be perfect. 

He’s chanting that thought like a mantra as the two of you are taking a very romantic stroll in the park, hands intertwined and bodies huddled together to conserve heat in the winter weather. 

“I can’t believe we only have one semester left,” you murmur, clutching your coat closer to your body. “I still feel like a kid.”

“Based on your eating habits, I’d have to agree.” You gasp in shock, slapping his arm. 

“Hey! What do you have against Lunchables?” Hoseok laughs at your offended look, finding you all too endearing.

“It’s not the Lunchables I have a problem with. Lunchables are great. It’s the cheese and peanut-butter crackers you’re crazy about. It’s disgusting.” You roll your eyes and groan, tired of this argument. 

“For the last time, I didn’t know they were cheese flavored and they taste good!” 

“Why else would they be orange, Y/N?” You shake your head, refusing to indulge him any further. “Disgusting.”

The two of you approach a quaint bridge crossing a babbling creek. The sky is colored with purples and pinks and oranges, reflected across the water. A few kids are playing by the shore, much to the disdain of their parents. Hoseok feels his chance approaching. 

You both stop and lean against the bridge railing, watching the sunset. You nuzzle against him, taking delight in his warmth. 

Hoseok studies the way the light reflects off of your face, the way a small smile creeps across your lips. You’re beautiful. Hoseok feels immensely lucky to have had you for this long. There’s a growing part of him that wants to keep you forever. 

“You’re so pretty-”

“It’s so pretty-”

The words are uttered at the same time, you staring at the sky and Hoseok staring at you. When you meet his eyes, the two of you can’t help but laugh quietly to yourselves. Timing’s always been funny for you, huh. 

As the sun peaks farther behind the horizon, Hoseok tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear. You can’t fight the grin on your face as Hoseok wraps an arm around your waist and tugs you in. 

This is perfect. This is the moment Hoseok has been waiting for. He’d suffered for three miserable weeks, but it was all about to be worth it. There’s absolutely nothing that can shatter the happiness in Hoseok’s heart. 

“Oh my god, is that a dog?” You’re torn from Hoseok’s embrace as you dash across the bridge. All he can do is sigh and grasp at the cold air you’d occupied seconds before. 

When he turns to see where you’ve run off to, he finds you plopped on the ground loving on a fluffy black and gold mutt. You crane your neck to face him. 

“It doesn’t have a collar, Hobi. I think it’s a stray.” The dog jumps excitedly against your chest, tackling you to the ground and licking at your cheeks and nose and mouth. Showering you with kisses before Hoseok’s eyes.

Lucky bastard.

Hoseok doesn’t have the heart to be mad. You’re too damn adorable. And the dog is pretty cute too. The puppy jumps from you to Hoseok, hopping excitedly and running between his legs. 

“Hyper one, aren’t you?” 

He begrudgingly takes the creature into his arms and hauls you to your feet, mumbling that he knows where the nearest animal shelter is. You trail after him, doting on the animal the whole way. Hoseok sighs, accepting the fact that he’s not getting his kiss tonight. But he thinks he’s okay with that, what with the way you’re talking in your animal voice and gushing over how cute this dog is.

God, Hoseok’s such a loser. But he’d like to hope that he’s your loser now.  

“I miss him already!” you cry as the two of you stumble out of the shelter. Startled by the chill, you quickly take his hand, but even that can’t bring Hoseok the joy he wants. 

“He’ll have a nice and loving home soon, don’t worry,” he soothes, ruffling your hair. He does his best to smile, but it comes off strained and fake, and you notice. Your lip immediately puffs out at his sulking. 

“Is there something wrong?” Guilt fills Hoseok’s chest at your genuine worry. But he’d been acting strangely since New Year’s, he knew, so he figured at this point he owed you an explanation. 

“Well...” Hoseok ponders the situation, trying to put together the right words. “Ireallywannakissyoubutshitkeepsgettingintheway.” 

“I- what?” You’re staring at him in utter confusion. Hoseok sighs as you lean in closer, trying to decipher his words.

“I’ve been trying to kiss you for three weeks now but it never works out!” he shouts into the cold night air, relief filling him as he finally gets his biggest worry off of his chest. 

You’re silent for a moment before bursting into laughter, the sound sweet and loud and in any other case, infectious. Hoseok pouts, wondering how you always manage to find the humor in his suffering. The sun is long set but he can still make out your cackling figure in the lamplight. 

You regain your breath before pulling him closer to you, still giggling between your words. 

“Why didn’t you just ask?” It’s a genuine question, Hoseok supposes. He’s about to answer, but that’s when you say something that sends him over the edge. “It’s just a kiss, there’s no need to take it so seriously.”

“Of course it’s serious!” he exclaims, making you jump. He quickly lowers his voice, looking at the ground sheepishly. “Well- I only mean that I’m serious about you. So I just wanted it to be nice and romantic and perfect because I care about you a lot and you deserve that, okay? And I know that we’ve only been dating for a few weeks but I really-”

When Hoseok lifts his eyes, you’re whipping your head around wildly, as if you’re being stalked or something is about to pop out from behind a corner. 

“Y/N? What are you doing? Is something wrong?” After a few more seconds of your paranoid glances, you meet his eyes, a cheeky grin plastered across your face. You shrug innocently.

“I was just checking to make sure nothing could possibly interrupt us.” Hoseok freezes, jaw dropping slightly. You find the expression hilarious but decide to keep that to yourself. And then Hoseok is smiling like an idiot and pulling you close and running a hand through your hair. 

Your lips barely brush against his when you suddenly lean your head back, making Hoseok cry out in frustration. You can’t get far though, not when you’re wrapped in his arms. 

“Just for the record,” you say, lifting a single finger between your chests. “That was the most romantic and perfect thing you could have said before our first kiss.” Hoseok rolls his eyes. You choke back a giggle at his impatience. You watch the puffs of condensation leave his lips, considering torturing him for longer, but you don’t. “Now, please continue.”

With your permission, Hoseok does the one thing he’s been waiting all too long for. Despite his pent-up frustration, he kisses you softly and slowly, relishing in every second and every touch.

After a long minute, he pulls away, gazing at you happily. You stare right back, unable to wipe the stupid grin off of your face. You’re content and lovestruck and stupid together. Until a large gust of chilly wind hits you and the two of you are screaming and tearing off back to your respective apartments. 

It certainly wasn’t perfect. Maybe a little sloppy. Certainly not like Hoseok would have planned it. 

But it was with you. And he wouldn’t have it any other way. 

[subtlereferencetomyinterests]

Thursday Nights

Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23867521

MasterPost

Relationships: Intruality, mentioned platonic DRLAMP

Warnings: Cursing, horror movies, brief descriptions of gore, brief mentions of self-deprecating thoughts, food mention.

everyone is sympathetic as always!

Word count: 1,164

Sunday nights were movie nights, when six sides gathered together in the living room to debate what they were going to watch and eat absurd amounts of popcorn and cookies. At least, it started that way. Then, Roman and Logan had begun their Monday Night Disney & Dish, during which the two would loudly complain their way through various Disney classics. Virgil and Patton had designated Tuesdays for bingeing old animated flicks and semi-ironically watching all the Barbie movies together. Eventually, The Mindscape was filled with the sounds of various, totally separate movie marathons every night of the week, with any combination of between two to four sides.

Above all of these little hang-outs, Remus’ favorite, favorite nights were Thursdays. It was also the newest movie night configuration, given that this would be the second time ever that it was hosted. With Deceit and Roman watching theater bootlegs in the Common room, Virgil and Logan bingeing nature documentaries in the latter’s bedroom, that only left Remus and Patton to find something to do. That they did.

They’d only been dating for three weeks, but to the former Dark side it felt like much longer. That was just the nature of both of them, he guessed- given that they were very touchy-feely from the start of their friendship. But as easy and right as it all felt, sometimes Remus couldn’t help but look over at his boyfriend and wonder how the fuck? 

Self-consciousness was new to him. Yeah, he still made overtly sexual jokes and comments, he still rambled about gore and true crime and whatever else happened across his mind, his art was still all smut and violence, but it was different. Remus had never really cared about what the other sides thought before, because they never really cared about him (except Dee-Dee, of course), so it was a perfect system! But no, he had to go and get feelings and everybody there’s no coming back from that.

Remus shook his head- right, movie night, that was the pressing issue. He was sitting on the remarkably soft loveseat in Patton's room, staring up at the side in question standing in front of him with a bowl of popcorn under either arm (one of which was decidedly less edible, in the traditional sense). He wore an expectant smile… right! A question, he'd asked a question! 

"Eh- say again? I spaced out."

Patton laughed and sat beside Remus, setting the snacks on his little coffee table.

"I was just wondering what you chose for us to watch this week, Silly."

"Oh! Right!" Oh. Right, "about that- maybe you should just pick again." 

Morality shot him a confused look, which he mimicked instinctively. 

“What do you mean? It’s your turn to pick,” he reminded, passing the remote to Remus. He responded by scrunching up his nose.

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea, Patty-cake.”

Patton twisted in his seat to look at Remus, arms folded. 

“I know we have different tastes, but it’s nothing I can’t handle! We shouldn’t always do what I wanna do, I don’t want you getting bored.”

I’m never bored with you- ‘Different’ is an understatement- I don’t want to scare you- I just want you to keep me around- You won’t like it- don't ask me about me- And other such phrases thrummed through his head. Patton looked at him knowingly, leaning into his side.

“It’s okay. Even if it’s something scary, I don’t mind,” he reassured, “After all, I won’t get too scared, because you're here with me!”

Remus wasn’t gonna cry, nope! No crying during movie night for non-movie related reasons! Instead, he wrapped an arm around Patton’s waist- eliciting an adorable giggle from the trait- and pretended that that sentence didn’t explode his heart out of his chest (figuratively, but wouldn’t that look cool?)

“Alright, I’ve got one. It’s gory, but it’s got a happy ending and all that sappy romantic stuff you like.” Remus was queuing up one of his favorite horror-comedies, Tucker and Dale vs. Evil. Patton just responded with a sweet, encouraging smile.

They were halfway through the movie when Patton yelped loudly and pressed one side of his face into Remus' shoulder. He peeked through his fingers at the teenager on the screen, as they'd just been impaled through the stomach.

“Wait a minute,” he said, peering more clearly at the film. Remus paused the movie.

“We can watch something else if it's too upsetting, babe.”

“No, it's not that, I was just wondering if that would work that way. If somebody ran into a stick really fast, would it go all the way through them like that? Wouldn't it be too blunt?”

Remus' face split into a wide, excited grin. 

“I’m so glad you asked…” 

The Duke was absolutely absorbed in this scene, but his immersion was completely broken when he felt Patton laughing against his shoulder. At first, he was sure he’d mistaken the sound for some kind of gasp. The lead girl had sat the protagonist and murderous, axe-wielding antagonist down at a table and was convincing them to have tea together, so of course it was a hilarious scene, but hilarious to Patton?

But then it happened again, as a minor character's face was (humorously) shredded by a weed-whacker. Unmistakably, Patton "Morality" Sanders snorted loudly, giggling at the darkly comedic scene. Remus pulled back just slightly to stare at his boyfriend, his expression a cross of shock, pride, and awe. 

“What?” Patton asked after his giggles subsided, “it’s funny.”

“You’re amazing. I can’t believe this.”

Patton flushed, cuddling back into Remus' side and hiding his face in the trait's chest.

“You don’t know everything about me, Lovebug.”

As the leading girl and guy kissed in a surprisingly cute display for a hetero couple, the credits began to roll. By this point, the slightly more real and much less heterosexual couple had gradually slid down the loveseat and were lying across it, with Remus’ head on the arm rest and Patton’s head on his chest, their legs tangled together. 

“Aw, that’s so sweet,” Patton mumbled sleepily.

“I knew you’d think so,” Remus hadn’t been paying attention to the movie for a while now, focusing instead on carding his fingers through his boyfriend's curly hair (careful of his claws, as always). After a silence, he muttered under his breath. 

“Thank you.”

“What for?”

Remus shrugged, gesturing vaguely to the television with his unoccupied hand. Patton hummed.

“It’s easy to like that stuff when I love you.”

No matter how many times he said it, The Duke never got tired of hearing it. He craned his head down to press an uncharacteristically soft kiss to Morality's lips. His eyes were shining as he eventually pulled back.

“I love you, too.” 

Patton let his head drop onto Remus' collar once more, smiling widely. As the trait continued to doze off in his arms, Remus found that he was just a little more sure of himself. 

@shrimp-crockpot

[brashierc]

Baby Brash

July 13th, his 20th birthday. That night was the reason why you were here today. If that night wouldn’t have happened you wouldn’t have peed on a stick this morning, it wouldn’t have been positive and you wouldn’t be sitting on the bed at your OBGYN’s clinic awaiting for her results. 

You’ve been best friends with Connor since you both were 7. That was 13 years of friendship. 13 years of listening to him go on about photography, 13 years of supporting him and his dreams no one else really supported when he first got started in high school. 

It was also 13 years of being asked how long you two had been in a relationship. 

Girls and boys can be best friends without falling in love. Or well, that’s what you always said to everyone when they asked. You’d been in love with Connor since you were 17, but you knew he’d never feel the same, so you kept that feeling pushed way back into your brain.

Connor was there for you through every boyfriend, just like you were for his girlfriends. The heartbreak and the first time discussions after the fact. 

“Alright,” The Doctor walks in after tapping on the wooden door with her knuckle twice. “So your positive was correct, you are pregnant.” 

You sighed, shoulders sinking. “Really?” 

“Yep, really really pregnant.” She smiles, handing you a few brochures. “Let’s go over your options.” 

You look up with wide eyes, horror running through your veins and emotions. 

“Let’s not, thanks Doc, but I’m already attached to this kid, and if you knew the Dad you would be too.” 

She smiles, nodding but telling you to take the brochures just in case. 

She refers you to one of her colleagues who’s an Obstetrician with her practice and can take you through your pregnancy and birth. 

You take the information she gave you and leave with a small smile and a polite wave goodbye to her front office receptionist. Once you’re back in your car you let the new totally settle in. 

You were having a baby, with Connor, at age 19 and 20. Super cool. 

On Connor’s birthday everything went a little crazy. Shawn threw a rager, wanting to celebrate his newest addition to his team, and his friend who was turning the big 2 0. He flew you out to where they were so you could be there to celebrate and surprise Connor.

Everyone went a little crazy, everyone. 

Brian was so blacked out that he took Alessia back to his room with him, forgot that he invited her in, and called Shawn from the bathroom freaking out that she’d followed him home. (Even though we were all in the same hotel) 

Shawn was the only one that didn’t go hard. Knowing he had shows and other obligations like filming music videos and meeting up with Chance the Rapper. He supervised, and not well, but had a blast watching everyone be stupid and make fools of themselves. 

Connor was a clingy needy drunk, so throughout the night he just became more and more glued to your side. He hadn’t seen you in months, and missed you so much. It all started when he wanted to dance to the slow songs with you, hands on your hips, holding you close. You fell into his embrace, missing being held in such a way, and feeling so safe with Connor. He planted a few kisses to your neck, and one just behind your ear learning very quickly that that was your weak spot. 

After you let out a shaky moan of his name, tucking your fingers into his hair, you were a goner. You both quickly found your way back to his room, falling on the bed nakedly exploring the other between the sheets. 

By morning? You both swore to never speak of it again, pretend like nothing happened, and move on. Everything was normal, it literally was like nothing happened. He still picked on you, you still gave him shit in front of the guys, but you both were still there for the other in ways no one else could be. 

You clicked on his contact; ‘Bri’s lil bitch C David Brash” 

Brian really changed Connor’s name in your phone to the best thing you’d ever seen, you wouldn’t dare change it. 

“Whattup?” He answered on the third ring, and suddenly, you’re emotional. 

“Hey,” You choke out, looking around trying to distract your brain.

“What’s wrong?” His side of the phone shuffles, and becomes marginally quieter.

“Nothing,” You whisper, “What are you doing?”

“I’m talking to you, tell me what’s wrong?” 

“It’s nothing Con.” 

“You’re upset though, I can hear it.” 

“When do you come home again?” 

“I come home next week, I have to meet my counselor and then register for classes. I get into town on Monday, and I leave Friday.” 

You nod, knowing full well he can’t see you. “Can we meet on Monday?”

You need to tell him, and you won’t keep this a secret from him longer than you have too.

“Um yeah, I fly in at like 8, wanna meet for coffee and breakfast or something?” 

“Yeah perfect.” 

“Okay…..? Ready to tell me what’s wrong yet?” He asks.

You sigh, “I should let you go, you’re probably busy.” 

“No, hey,” He protests. “I wanna talk, I miss you.” 

You smile, insides running warm when you hear his voice say those words. “I miss you too Baby Brash.” 

You can hear him sigh and you can practically see him rolling his eyes. “So you watched the newest video?” 

“Of course I did, got your post notifications on.” 

“No you don’t.”

“No you’re right, I don’t, I have Shawn’s on.” 

At this he laughs, like a snort and everything and it makes you feel good, to be able to get him to laugh like that again, to hear that laugh. 

“Brashier, we gotta go!” Brian yells at him in the background.

“You’re literally standing behind me, why you gotta yell?” 

“Because I felt like pissing you off.” Brian snickers. “Who you on the phone with? Gots a girlyfriend?” Something must happen on Connor’s side of the phone because suddenly all you can hear is boys yelling. 

“Connor that’s the fourth girl you’ve been on the phone with today!” 

“There is no hot sex going on over here!”

“PASS THE WEED MAN!” 

“Shut the fuck up!” Connor’s voice is back, “Jesus it’s just Y/n, could you…?” 

“But we wanna say hi!” Shawn and Brian whine. 

You giggle and blush a little at the attention. 

Connor shuffles the phone, and then you can barely hear him, he’s really muffled but you make it out. “She’s upset about something, so could you fucking leave for a minute. I was getting her to talk and then you fuckers walked in.” A few seconds later and he’s back crystal clear. “Okay they left, you still there Honey?” 

“You didn’t need to kick them out.” 

“But I wanna talk to you.” 

“They just wanted to say hi.” 

“But you’re my best friend.” He whines, “They’d steal all your attention.” 

“You need to go, I’ll see you next week okay?” 

“Okay, love you kid.” He says softly.

“Love you too Brash.” 

**

He walks in, looking all nerdy cute, face down into his phone. 

iMessage from Bri’s lil bitch C David Brash: Im here where u is

“If you ever looked up from your phone you’d know I’m here too Bitch.” You say from your table, laughing when he jumps and looks over at you. 

“You scared the shit out of me.” He laughs, smiling really wide when you stand and give him a big hug. “Fuck I missed you Kid.” He sighs into your neck, letting your scent relax his stressed out mind.

“Missed you too.” 

 He takes the seat across from you, thanking you for the coffee you already had ordered and sat in front of his seat on the table. He takes a sip as you take a deep breath and shut your eyes to give yourself that last push of encouragement. 

“Connor?” 

“Yeah?” 

“I’m pregnant.” You blurt. 

It’s then that you realize your eyes are still closed, opening them one at a time to see his reaction. It’s comical almost, the sight of him, jaw dropped, eyes bugging, body frozen. 

You give it a moment, a second to really settle into his brain, you needed to do the same when you found out. Hell, you’re still doing that. 

He clears his throat, shakes his head a bit, but his eyes continue to flare out at you. 

“Excuse me?” He croaks. 

“I’m pregnant,” You nod, watching him nod with you. “And it’s yours.” 

He hums, and continues to stare at you. You take a sip of your decaf coffee, wincing at the weird taste. 

“Fuck man, I don’t know if I can handle 9 months of decaf, that shit is gross as hell.” 

This seems to snap Connor out of whatever daze he was in. 

“You’re being real right now?” He looks around, “Is Brian here filming me? Is this a prank or something? You got me, you got my reaction, turn it off now.” 

You sigh, worried he would think something like that. You just sit there, staring at him.

“You’re being real?!?” He says with persistence in his voice, leaning closer to you. 

“That night we swore to never speak of again? Well, we’ll be talking for at least the next 18 years.” You shrug.

He’s still in shock, just staring at you with a glazed over glance. You just nod and smile a little at him, trying to coax him through his shock.

“I-” He gapes, “Um, we...I...condom!” 

You giggle, shaking your head at him while rolling your eyes. “Really? That’s what you’re gonna do? Blurt ‘condom’ out like it’ll fix everything?” 

“But I used one!” He’s becoming defensive. Snapping at you in ways he’s done in the past when he’s stressed to the brim and can’t control his emotions. You can count the amount of times snapped at you on one hand. 

“They’re only 98% effective, if that, Connor. Or maybe it broke or something. It happened, and I’m pregnant.” 

“No! We can’t, a baby?” 

You take a deep breath, trying to tell yourself that he’s just in shock and that he’s gonna be happy about this, someday. He doesn’t mean the way he’s reacting right now. 

“How are you calm right now?” He asks in shrill. 

“I don’t know Connor, life happens. It’s not perfect but we’ll figure it out.” You shrug, raising your voice a little to match his level.

“Fucking shit,” He tugs at his hair, face grimancing as he groans. 

You sigh, grabbing your purse, collecting your phone and coffee and stand to leave. His head whips up when you stand, and he watches as you straighten out your shorts before starting to walk away.

“No, don’t go.” He pleads.

“Talk to me when this settles Connor. I can’t be here to watch you freak out. My hormones are all sorts of fucked up right now and I’m trying to stay positive about this whole thing but your reaction isn’t helping.” 

He gets up and follows you out of the coffee shop, racing to meet you at your car before you can leave. 

“Wait, talk to me, please.” He blocks your door so you can’t close it. 

You look up, tears in your eyes that tear his heart apart. “We really did turn into Ross and Rachel huh? Just like everyone said throughout high school. Except we won’t end up together, we’ll always be the Ross and Rachel before they got together.” 

He shakes his head, “I’m your lobster.”

**

Connor sits on your couch three days later. This was the first chance he’d been able to actually come over, any other conversations have been over the phone or text message since your meeting at the coffee shop. 

It’s kind of awkward, the both of you sitting in silence as you try to not bring up the elephant in the room. 

“I’m sorry,” You clear your throat, wincing as you lean forward and start this conversation. “I’m sorry that I up and left you on Monday. That wasn’t cool. I dropped a big ass bomb on you, something we would have never expected in a million years, and then just got up and left you alone. My hormones are whacked out right now but that’s not an excuse. So I’m sorry for being a shitty friend and making you go through that shock alone.” 

“Hey,” He shakes his head, turning towards you on the couch, scooting closer. “Don’t be sorry. I was kind of being a jackass. I shouldn’t have flipped out like that.” 

You sigh, smiling up at him. “I missed you, a lot.” 

His hand falls on top of yours, fingers intertwining. “I missed you so much, you have no idea.” He sighs, letting his eyes rake over you for a moment, imagining what you’ll look like with a baby bump. “How the hell am I supposed to leave for tour?” 

“Just go, I’m not due until May. You’ll be back in December, that’s plenty of time.” 

“You’re pregnant, I want to be here for appointments, picking out and setting up the crib, cravings, all of it!” 

You smile, reaching over and caressing his cheek. “Then talk to Shawn, sit down with Cez, explain it to Brian because he’ll lose his shit if you leave him without a solid reason behind it. We’ll figure it out, and make do.” You shrug.

He nods, leaning into your hand a little. “You always make everything better.” 

“That’s because I know you Connor David,” You tap his cheek twice, “I know how to handle you.” 

He grins, rolling his eyes before flopping back into the corner of your couch he’s claimed as his. “Have you told your mom yet?” He asks, throwing your fluffy white and black throw blanket over his lap. 

“No,” You sigh, kicking your feet up and relax across from him on your sectional. He smirks as you take a breath, reaching over and grabbing your feet to give you a foot massage. “What are you doing?” 

“Gotta get used to pampering you, might as well get a head start.” He murmurs. “Are you scared to tell your mom?”  

“I mean not really. It’s not the ideal situation I was hoping for when I thought about having kids. But like, I can’t complain. I’m honored to have your kid Con, I think I got lucky when it comes to the baby daddy part of this.” 

He tilts his head, looking over at you with a blush on his cheeks. 

“I guess you could say I got pretty lucky with the baby mama part.” He mutters, watching you from under his lashes, grinning when you roll your eyes and throw your head back to hide the apparent blush forming across your cheeks.

**

Your guest bedroom that once used to be your small library and office area has now been bombarded with camera gear, a full sized bed covered in basic grey sheets and a black comforter.

Connor spoke with Shawn and Cez the first chance he had when he got back to tour. He explained the situation, as awkward and unexpected it is, and expressed his need to be home more for you and his unborn child.

Both were very understanding to him and his needs, granting him a week off a month ensuring that he’d still be able to get enough footage but also time at home. It also gave Shawn and the crew a moment of peace and not having to worry about cameras so much, not that Connor is like the crazy paps. 

But now that Connor will be home once a month it made sense that he move into your spare room instead of having to stay with his parents or pay for a place he really wouldn’t see all that often. It was the perfect set up, to be there and help you when you need it. 

You two were still adjusting to living together, or with another human (of the different sex). 

You walked into the apartment from class, stopping short when the first thing you saw in your kitchen was Connor, in only his black Calvins.

“Bro,” You shield your eyes setting your backpack on your bar stool, “Can you wear pants?” 

Connor looks over at the sound of your voice, a slice of cheese between his fingers, munching on a bite. He looks down, and then back up to you holding a hand over your eyes. 

“I’m in boxers, I’m not naked.” 

“No one wants to see your dick though,” You shake your head, grinning as you say, “Been there, done that.” 

He chuckles, leaning closer to you and peeling your hands away from your eyes so you can see his smug smile. “You weren’t complaining then.” 

Your jaw drops and you blush as he raises an eyebrow at you. “Well,” You stutter, “I mean,” He smiles, getting the best reaction out of you. “Shut up, go put clothes on!” You smack his arm shooing him to his room. 

**

You both were getting really good and creative with ways to hiding your pregnancy. The only people who knew were the team, and family. Not even friends from your high school knew.

The issue with hiding this was the fact that Connor was gaining a lot of attention from Shawn’s fans. You didn’t blame them, no matter what brought them to become a fan of his, it at least brought more attention to his work and was getting him that much more popular. This just meant that you had to take hiding your pregnancy to a whole new level.

For a while you were able to just wear some big sweatshirts to cover the smallest bump you had. When sweatshirts weren’t able to work so much you then resorted to really flowy shirts and a big purse you could always swing in front of your belly. 

There was even one time that Connor and the whole crew were in town. They had invited you to lunch since no one had seen you since Connor told everyone. But at the end of lunch the manager came to tell the group that the paparazzi had followed Shawn and his own lunch date. 

You were panicked while everyone just rolled their eyes and grumbled about how someone had probably called them so pictures of Shawn and his date could be taken. You looked to Connor and gulped as he laughed with Brian about a meme he was showing him. 

“Y/n, you okay?” Shawn asked from across the table.

He was always so kind, and it boggled your mind how he could always see everyone, even when there were thousands in front of him, he could see everyone and notice every mood change.

Connor looked over after Shawn’s question and noticed your worried expression.

“Um, I’m,” You looked down at your shirt that very clearly showed off your small baby bump. “We haven’t told-”

“Oh shit,” Connor mumbled now noticing what you were referring too. “Fuck they’re gonna get pictures of us.” He looked to Shawn.

“I totally forgot,” Shawn rubs his forehead. “I’m so sorry you guys.” 

“Do you have anything to like hide behind?” Brian asked.

“No, I didn’t bring a jacket because it’s so nice out.” You shake your head. 

“Actually,” Connor cringes, looking at Josiah. “Do you still have your pocket reflector?” 

Josiah nods, handing it to Connor. 

“We’ll head out first, and then you guys go with Brian and maybe they’ll won’t pay you much attention. We’ll take a walk down the block or something.” Shawn stands, giving you an apologetic smile before walking out with his date.

You look to Connor and Brian as Connor is unfolding the reflector that creates a decent sized circle. You just laugh out loud when he offers it to you. 

“What?” He asks.

“What the fuck am I supposed to do with this?” You laugh taking it from him. “It definitely doesn’t look like I’m hiding anything.” You’re sarcastic tone makes the boys chuckle. 

“Here,” Brian hands Connor an old disposable camera. “Pretend like you’re taking my picture as we walk to the car so it looks like she’s actually using it.” 

You just laugh harder and so do the boys at this elaborate plan to cover your pregnant belly. 

** 

At 5 months your little one is now starting to move. You’re really uncomfortable at the moment, in the stages of dealing with pregnancy and the symptoms. 

Tonight is no different, if anything, it’s worse. Baby Brash (literally) has the hiccups and it’s causing your belly to move every 30 seconds or so. So sleeping at the moment isn’t a reality. Finding a comfortable spot to fall asleep isn’t a reality either.

iMessage from Papa 👶: Stop moving, I can hear your bed springs, lord help our child when you get laid.

You rolled your eyes at Connor’s message. He changed his name in your phone when he finally saw what you had him under. He even changed your name in his phone to ‘Mama 👶’ with the baby emoji. 

iMessage to Papa👶 : Tell your child to stop moving so much then

You watched as he read the message, but frowned a little when he didn’t start responding. You jumped when your bedroom door creaked open, revealing Connor in a worn white t shirt and plaid pajama pants. 

“Hey you,” He crawls into your bed, shuffling under your covers with you. “Hey Kid,” He smiles, leaning down to plant a small kiss to your belly. “Stop moving in there so Mama can go to sleep. She’s keeping me up because you’re keeping her up.”

You roll your eyes again, glaring at him. “Really?”

“You told me to tell the kid.” He shrugs. 

His hands have found their way to your belly, rubbing soothing circles in hopes of calming his baby down and lulling you to sleep. 

You sigh and let your eyes flutter close.

“What hurts tonight?” He whispers.

“My hips and back.” 

“Roll to your side for me.” 

You do as told, and moan a little when he starts massaging at your tender hips. Your lower back is so tired and your hips are sore. 

He keeps rubbing and tracing designs on your skin until your breathing evens out. He rolls away a little to go back to his room before your rolling towards him, and resting your head on his chest.

“Don’t go.” You whine.

**

His whole life flashed before his eyes when he got the call. His whole life. 

That’s the only words running through his mind. 

His whole life.

“What did she say?” Brian as he drove to the airport. 

“She said that she was being transported to the hospital and because she’s pregnant they wanted to take her in for more testing just to double check that everything was okay.” 

“And what happened again?” 

“She was driving home from work, her light went green and she proceeded through the intersection when some dipshit in a fucking truck ran the red and hit the back of her car, sounds like it’s totaled but luckily he just hit her trunk, so she wasn’t hurt to much.” 

“She’s okay though right?” Brian asked again.

“As far as I know, but I’ll keep you updated. Just tell everyone else for me okay?” 

“Of course man. Just go take care of her and that Baby.” 

Connor takes a shaky breath as he looks out the window. 

“Connor,” Brian said, surprising him by using his full name. “You need to breathe.” 

“My whole life was in that car Brian, my whole life was sitting in the driver's seat of that car, and-” 

“You need to breathe Connor.” 

“I’m trying!” He snaps at Brian, “But I’m freaking out! My girl and our baby were in an accident today and I’m not there with them! So please forgive me if I’m a little scared and panicked.” 

“I know you are, you just gotta stay calm. Positive thoughts lead to positive outcomes.” 

“You really need to stop doing that weird fucking yoga thing with Shawn. It’s changing you man.” Connor jokes, trying to lighten his own mood. 

**

By the time Connor’s landed you’re already home and resting. He bursts into the apartment like a bat out of hell, slamming the door and flipping the lock before throwing his bag to the ground and racing to your room.

“Jesus, be a little louder why don’t you.” You comment when he falls into your room.

“Are you okay? What did the doctor say? Is our Bean okay?” He throws himself onto your bed, hands instantly searching for your ever growing bump.

“We’re okay.” You whisper, threading your fingers through his hair to calm him down. “I told you we were fine and that you didn’t need to come home.”

“Right,” He scoffs. “Like I was just gonna stay miles away from you after you’ve been in an accident.” 

“But we’re okay! You’re parents, my parents, our siblings, everyone was there with me. Really we’re okay.” 

“Okay, okay.” He nods, laying down with his head beside your big belly, rubbing and tapping at it, smiling when he feels a few kicks. “My Bean is kicking?” He looks up at you.

“Yeah, has been for a week or so.” 

“Why didn’t you say so?” 

“Well,” You frown, looking away. “To be honest I planned on pretending that the first time Bean kicked when you were home next was the first time so you didn’t feel like you were missing out on anything.” 

Connor smiles at you, shaking his head and leaning up to plant a kiss to your cheek. “Thank you for planning to lie to me.” 

You giggle, before shifting to sit up more. You reach for the papers on your bedside table and hand them to Connor.

“What’s this?” He asks, looking down. His face falls, frown dropping his lips eyes looking up at you. “What is this? Why are you handing me this?”

“I think we need to talk about it.” You shrug.

“Not right now.” 

“Connor this is serious, it’s not just us anymore. We’re having a kid, we need to have a Will drawn up.” 

“I understand that, but I don’t wanna talk about it right now.” 

“Connor, in the event that something happens to one of us, we need to know what the other wants.” 

“Stop, stop, stop talkin’ like that!” 

“Connor,” 

“Please,” He tugs at his hair, “Please not right now. I understand we need to know, I get that and we’ll have it drawn up but I don’t want to talk about it right now. All my nightmares came true today.” He looks at you with sad eyes. “I haven’t told you this, but lately I’ve been having a few nightmares that something happens to you and our Bean, and I’m not there to help you or protect you.” He shakes his head, eyes squeezed shut. “And that happened to me today. You both were in an accident, and I wasn’t here.” 

“Connor,” You say again.

“I get it!” He snaps. “But I don’t like the thought of losing you okay? I’m fucking in love with you, and I don’t really have you, but I thought I lost you when I got that call. So can we stop talking like this for the day? Please? Please can you give my heart a moment?” 

You stare up at him with wide eyes, your heart rate picking up at his words. 

“You’re what?” You whisper, caressing his cheek.

“Huh?” 

“You’re in love with me?” 

His eyes go wide in panic now that he’s realized what he’s said.

“Are you being serious?”

“Yeah?” He nods.

“Why haven’t you said anything!” You slap his arm.

“I don’t know, you never-”

“I’ve been in love with you since Junior year!” You keep slapping his arm.

“Stop hitting me!” He grabs your hands, interlocking your fingers.

“You never said anything!” “Neither did you!” He responds.

**

Things were different now, you still hadn’t really said officially what you two were now, but it was this weird in between stage of best friend and boyfriend.

He would kiss you sometimes, and always hold your hand, he’d even let a few pet names slip, but when asked by others he still referred to you as his best friend. 

It confused you to no end, because now that something changed he’s moved into your room, claiming that he would just sneak in every night anyway, and now you had room for a nursery. 

“Babe?” He called from the nursery, seated criss cross on the ground, staring up at the ceiling while waiting for your response. “BABE?” 

“What?” You call back, walking down the hall to the laundry room.

“Can you bring me a water?” 

“Really? You can’t get it yourself?” 

“I’m building the crib!” 

“I’m doing your laundry!” You yell back, leaning against the dryer, rolling your eyes at his request.

“Please?” He asks softly. When you don’t respond he resorts to baby talk he knows you can’t resist. “Pweety Pwease? I’ll give you kisses.” 

You groan, waddling down the hall to the kitchen, grabbing him a cucumber mint flow from the fridge, and grabbing yourself a watermelon lime one. You make your way to the nursery, throwing him the water before taking a seat in the new rocking chair Shawn bought you guys.

“How you doing there Pretty Mama?” He smiles looking over at you. 

“I’m tired, and big.” You whine, looking down at your very pregnant belly.

“I think you look really pretty.” He blushes, looking back at the crib.

“You owe me kisses.” You pout.

“Do I?” He looks at you, “What if I was crossing my fingers?” 

You gasp, furrowing your brows and crossing your arms across your chest. “That’s so mean. You’re pregnant best friend just waddled her way to the kitchen and back to bring you your precious water and you won’t give her kisses like you promised?” 

He’s up on his knees crawling towards you. “Girlfriend.” He hums setting his hands on your thighs so he can lean closer.

“What?” 

“You mean my pregnant girlfriend.” He corrects you.

“Do I?” You asked softly, biting your lip as you stare into those blue eyes.

“I sure hope so.” He whispers.

“Is that what I am? Your girlfriend?” 

He pulls back a little, brows furrowing in confusion. “What do you mean? I thought-”

“Yeah me too but then you told the guy at the baby shop that I was your best friend.” 

He sighs, hanging his head. “It’s so natural, or I don’t know, programmed in my head to introduce you that way. But I thought we turned into something more when we confessed.” 

“Me too, but when you did that it through me off.” 

“Babe,” He smiles, rubbing his hands up your legs, “We live together, we sleep in the same bed, we kiss, we love, we laugh, we fight, we’re pregnant.” He let’s his right hand wander to your belly. “I consider you my girlfriend. I hope you consider me your boyfriend.” 

“I do.” 

“So then why are you pouting?”

“Because I really want kisses.” 

“Oh my goodness.” He laughs, leaning forward to cover your lips with his own. He kisses you deeply, pecking your lips three more times before pulling away. “Better?”

“For now.” 

“Okay.” He laughs, shaking his head before going back to building the crib.

**

“Boyfriend?” You yell from the bedroom when you hear the door open.

“It’s Boyfriend and his friends!” Connor yells back. “Girlfriend?” 

“Yes?”

“Where are you?” 

You quickly finish tying the bow to his gift before making your way to the living room where Shawn and Brian are seated on the couch.

“Hey!” Shawn jumps up, giving you a hug before looking down to your belly. “Can I touch your belly?” 

You laugh a little, “Yeah go ahead, thank you for asking.” 

“Of course, it would be a little rude to just go ahead.” He says touching your belly. 

“Can you tell that to the rest of the world?” 

“Hey Bean!” Shawn says to your belly. “Uncle Shawn got you the coolest thing ever!” He says before running to the couch to show you a small guitar case. 

“Shawn you didn’t.”

“I couldn’t help myself, I was looking for a new one and saw this little thing.” He pops the case open. “I’ll teach Bean how to play and everything!” 

“There you are!” Connor smiles when he enters holding three beers and your favorite flow flavor. He walks up to you, planting a wet smooch to your lips before handing the boys their drinks. 

“I have something for you.” You grin, holding up the little gift wrapped box.

“Oh yeah?” He takes it from you. 

He unties the bow, rips the paper, and opens the box to reveal a small blue Polaroid camera.

“This is so cute,” He says holding it in his hand.

Shawn gasps and Brian stands up in excitement.

“Where’d you get this honey?” 

“It doesn’t matter,” You wave him off, bouncing on your toes in excitement. “What color is it?” 

“Blue?” He asks, looking up at you, and then over to the excited boys next to him that are punching the other in the arm.

“And blue is for what?” You pull it out of him.

“Blue is for….” He stares at you, “Blue is for boy.” His eyes light up. “Blue is for boy?” 

“Blue is for boy!” You squeal.

“Oh my god! Blue is for boy!” He wraps you up in his arms, kissing your neck. “It’s a boy, we’re having a boy!” 

“ITS A BOY!” Shawn and Brian cheer.

**

You groan in pain as you feel another contraction hit. You’ve been in labor for three hours now and your little boy does not want to come see the world.

Connor tries not to wince or complain about his hand he’s sure you’ve severely bruised. He breathes with you through the pain, running a soothing hand over your head and taking your matted hair back away from your forehead.

“There you go Baby.” He whispers, “You’re doing so good.”

“I love you Connor David,” You smile at him, “But I want to fucking kick you in the balls right now.” 

He winces at the thought and shakes his head. “I’m sorry Baby,” He looks away. “I wish I could take your pain away, I wish it were me.” 

“Me too.” You relax when the contraction stops.

“Still holding your hand?” The nurse smiles when she walks in to check on you. “You’re better than most Dad’s, they usually wimp out by now from the pain.” 

“He never lets go, no matter what.” You smile up at Connor.

“You’re my lobster Baby,” He leans down to kiss your lips.

**

//

written by: @shawnm521 

[goldeneyedgirl]

Ficathon: Mad World

I’ve spent today on uni work and chipping away on Shadow to Light, so instead of a prompt fic, have a sample of one of my WIPs - this one is Mad World, a fic where Alice is the daughter of Charlie Swan’s estranged sister who goes to live with Bella and Charlie. It was an experiment in gothic horror/romance, tbh.

“If you don't know where you are going any road can take you there.” - Lewis Carroll

When I look up at the sky in Forks, I don’t see clouds. Or I do, but they’re obscured by leaves and branches; the forest stretches above me and it’s nice. Private and safe, even though it makes it feel a lot later and darker than it really is. It’s like we’re in a cocoon, and there’s no one else in the world.

I return to reality as his teeth rasp against my stomach, above my belly button, and I giggle, ticklish. I’m splayed across a rock, and it's scratching my back - my sweater is balled up in the dirt, and my shirt is pushed up above my bra.

My fingers twist in his hair and I smirk as he looks back up at me. Jasper Hale; who I sit next to in History and in Trig. His shirt hangs open, revealing a body that will be taking pride of place in my fantasies.

“You okay?” His voice is low and even, but his eyes are sharp. Dark, and watching me. For a moment, I see calculation and something I should react to. Something dangerous. Like he could kill me right here and now; fuck me and choke me; rip me into wet, meaty pieces; beat my skull into dust with a rock. This boy, this man, is dangerous, and I have invited him to get much, much closer. He could do whatever he wanted to me, and he wouldn’t be the first.

And I don’t care. That darkness, that rage, and potential for violence, I’m not scared of it. I haven’t been for a long time. It’s easier to consent than to resist. And more than that, I like that darkness. I like that sharp edge. And what I know of Jasper Hale, I like.

Whatever I am feeling twists and fades into the steady thrum of lust, of confidence and willingness.

“Absolutely nothing,” I say, and tug his hair to bring his face closer to mine.

And that’s how I spent my third afternoon in Forks; fooling around with Jasper Hale in the woods behind the high school auditorium.

—

It’s a rainy Thursday night when I finally, finally arrive in Forks. And in that moment, it is the most beautiful place on earth - the green of the forest, the grey of the rain, the fresh air. It is Shangri-La on Earth, and I am apart of it.

I left North Carolina on Monday, and since then have taken a bus, a train, another bus, another train, and a third bus. I have layers upon layers of deodorant and grime upon my skin; my phone is dead; my hair is greasy from the endless styling tutorials I looked up to combat boredom, and all I want is something to eat and a shower. Anything that isn’t itchy seats, never-ending road, or snack foods would be heaven upon earth at this moment.  

In truth, I don’t feel human anymore. I feel like a transient spirit, a modern-day gypsy, a lost girl. That for the rest of time, this will be my life - dirt and fuel and waiting for an end that never comes. But somehow, I have made it to Forks; the red ‘x’ on my photocopied map is finally a real place, with buildings and streets and people. Forks isn’t home, but it is the most welcoming sight I have had in years.  

I jump down from the bus; a backpack on my shoulder, a satchel across my chest and a duffle bag in one hand. For all intents and purposes, this is all I own in the world. Twenty-three dollars in my wallet, and my entire life in my bags. I could go anywhere I wanted, except twenty-three dollars won’t take me many places.

No one else on the bus carries as much luggage as I do, and no one is dressed alike either - I changed at the Seattle bus station into my second-to-last clean outfit, to try and make a good impression. Everyone else is wearing a jeans-parka-boots combination, which is probably smart with the horrible weather. Not that I will miss the hideous summers of North Carolina. But I get the sense that this bus is full of locals, who busted happened to be travelling from Port Angeles or Seattle. There’s something about them, like the green of the forest, the dirt and mud of the ground, the rainwater has sunken into their bodies and marked them invisibly as belonging to the town of Forks. I wonder if I’ll be here long enough to be marked too.

The bus station is the smallest I’ve been to on this whirlwind road trip - a tiny convenience store, a spinning rack of postcards, a payphone, and endless wooden benches.

Uncle Charlie is right there, waiting for me - sitting on a bench with a paper cup of coffee. Even if he hadn’t been wearing his uniform, I would have guessed he was my uncle. He doesn’t strictly look like my mother, but there is something in the way they carry themselves, the way that they fill space. I don’t know. I just know that he is definitely Mom’s little brother, one Chief Charlie Swan of Forks, WA.

My new guardian - saviour or gaoler is yet to be determined.

“Uncle Charlie!” I put a big smile on my face and march straight up to him - if life has taught me nothing else, it’s that first impressions count.  And not to piss off the person in charge of your welfare. “I’m Alice.”

Uncle Charlie looked up at me, and for a moment, just stared.

So, my outfit wasn’t the best first impression I could have picked. But it was the only one left that I could wear in public - my beloved, holey galaxy leggings; ancient floral Dr Martens that I had laced with pink ribbons; a giant purple and black sweater, and a black miniskirt. Combined with the pancake make-up I had used to cover up my blotchy-skin and dark under-eye circles, my greasy hair knotted in two buns with my collection of dollar-store butterfly clips, and the fact that I smelt like four days of bus, sweat, and fried food, I definitely looked like the devil child my mother probably portrayed me as.

“Mary Alice!” Uncle Charlie recovered. “How was your trip?” He smiled awkwardly and stood up.

“Long,” I said ruefully. “But I’m here now.”

—

Uncle Charlie tried to make conversation as we drove back to his place, as if a truncated game of ‘Twenty Questions’ could undo the awkwardness of not knowing about each other for seventeen years.

And it wasn’t like I could abridge my messy, ridiculous life story into a fifteen minute car trip, anyway. Or that Charlie Swan could become a beloved uncle between the bus station and his home.

Who was I?

I was Mary-Alice Brandon, eldest daughter of Annette Marie Swan-Ackerman, the only child of the late artist Nicholas Brandon. Resented step-daughter of Stephen Ackerman. A granddaughter and a niece and a half-sister. Former prisoner of a remote reform school. Epileptic. A secret keeper, and an artist.

How could I tell Uncle Charlie all the tiny details that made up me, and the reason I was here with him now?

That my mother is no Swan, but a chameleon, a snake, a cuckoo in the nest?

That the last of my stitches came out last week, but the scars still itch like crazy?

That I used to love gas-station slushies, especially pink ones, until I was twelve? That now I love soda, so cold it makes your brain and teeth hurt, and tastes like static?

And besides, what do I know about Charlie and my cousin? He’s a divorced police chief, and his daughter Isabella is also seventeen years old - five months older than me - and lives with him full-time. She attends the local public high school. That my grandparents are dead, and my ex-aunt has since remarried.

That’s it. That’s all I really know. And I am about to live with them.

If I think about it too much, it just feels like another trap.

—

The Swan house was small, but then, so were all the houses on the street. It was old, too, but I’d always known that was a probability. It didn’t make it easier, though. I’ve never done well in old houses. It needed a few repairs - the paint was peeling off, one of the shutters was hanging at an angle, and the front garden was dirt, grass, moss and ferns. Uncle Charlie struck me as a neat and practical kind of person, so this was surprising. But maybe in the spring, I could coax some kind of garden to life, as a way to say thank-you.

We walked in the backdoor, letting it swing shut behind us with a bang.  Inside, the hallway was narrow and dark, with stairs leading up, and a few aged pieces of art hung on the plaid walls - mostly landscapes, and several of fish that were very good, if hideously ugly.

The first thing my eye caught was the mantlepiece in the sitting room, above the fireplace - a shrine to a teenage girl who bore a startling resemblance to Mom.

“Wow,” I said, moving closer. The eyes, the smile, the brown hair - this had to be my cousin. “Is that Isabella?”

“Yeah, that’s Bells. She’s out with her boyfriend at the moment,” Uncle Charlie said, setting down my duffle bag.

“She looks just like Mom,” I said, amazed. It was uncanny - Bella looked more like Mom’s daughter than I did.

“I guess she does,” Uncle Charlie said. “Bells is much prettier than Annette was at that age - but that’s all Renee.”

Charlie sounded uncomfortable, and I had to admit to myself that I was uncomfortable hearing my mother’s name. Turning away from the photographs, I pasted a smile back on my face.

“Sorry, I’m easily distracted,” I said. “You were going to show me my room?”

“Yeah. It’s not much,” Uncle Charlie began. “It’s pretty small…”

“You’re taking me in. That makes everything else perfect,” I said firmly, grabbing my backpack again. “Lead the way.”

—

Well.

Uncle Charlie had warned me that my bedroom was tiny.

It was more than tiny – more like a large alcove with glass doors. The walls were off-white, and a square window looked over a tiny yard and the forest. A narrow bed was wedged against the wall, made up with a hideous yellow bedspread. A dresser was arranged against the wall between the bed and doors. Opposite the dresser was a tiny desk and chair. Jammed in the gap at the end of the bed, next to the desk, was an old laundry hamper.

I was betting I could touch the window and the door with my arms outstretched.

Luckily I was used to small living spaces. I wasn’t sharing with anyone; that was enough to make up for the fact that this room would have been a better closet. Or window box. Apparently, Uncle Charlie had used it as an office when he needed to bring work home.

I set my bags on the bed. This was going to be my home for the next year and a half. It felt overwhelming all of a sudden, that I would be living with an uncle and cousin I had never even met before. It wasn’t like school, where I had shared a room with seven other girls, and we’d all been strangers.

I could do this.

It was only eighteen months. I had been away at school nearly three times that long, and if I could survive school, I could survive living at Uncle Charlie’s.

I had intended to unpack and settle in before dinner, but in the end, I just changed into some pyjamas, shoved my bags under the bed, and fallen asleep nearly instantly. I didn’t wake up until much later, almost midnight, starving and disorientated. I crept out of my room, making a note to buy some kind of curtains for the glass doors to give myself some privacy.

Uncle Charlie and my cousin were clearly already asleep, so I got myself a glass of water. There was a note scrawled out for me, telling me to help myself to food, and that they’d see me tomorrow. I felt bad for vanishing without spending time with them or even meeting Bella, but there wasn’t much I could do about that now.

The house was quiet in the darkness, but I used my phone to carefully navigate - and look around. The shrine held a wedding photo of a much-younger Charlie, and the woman who was my ex-aunt; a sad memento when I knew that Uncle Charlie had been divorced for quite a long time. An off-brand recliner sat near a small, out-of-date television, the remote on top of a TV guide, with various sports matches circled in pen. Several pairs of shoes sat by the front door - my cousin was clearly a strong supporter of Converse sneakers.

The leftovers in the fridge looked kind of suspect – some luminous mac and cheese, a chicken that was nearly picked clean, and some greasy looking Chinese. I ended up slapping some peanut butter on some bread, and drinking nearly half a carton of milk, before vanishing back into my new ‘bedroom’ for some more sleep.  

Peering out of the uncovered window into the night, I could see beyond the fence line into the black of the forest. The tops of the trees cut the bottom half of the sky off perfectly, like an old-fashioned silhouette. It was strange to imagine my mother living in this kind of town, growing up here. But then, I had a hard time picturing my dad and her being married, too.

Lying back, I stared out at the night sky, the slow movement of clouds over the stars lulling me back to sleep.

[hellfirenacht]

Can’t Be Unseen Ch 3

Sal Fisher x Reader

First Chapter

Last Chapter

Ao3

Art by: @ochibi-chan​, thank you so much for the fanart!

'He has no nose.' was the first thing that came to your mind as you found yourself staring in shock at the face of your date clearly for the first time. For as many scary movies you’d seen with Sal and Larry, his face was nothing like the special effects makeup you had grown used to. Sal’s face was real, and it shocked you. 

While you had caught glimpses of him before, it had only been his chin and mouth. You knew that there had been a chunk of his jaw that was misshapen, you saw the deep scar on his mouth as well as the slight discoloration where skin grafts had taken place. 

You weren't prepared for the lack of nose, or the rigid scarred skin that covered most of his face. It scared you- not in a way that would have you running in fear, but in a way a friend would jump out from behind a wall. A moment of horror before realizing that there was no danger, realizing that it was still your friend. 

The shock lasted all of a moment until the kid spoke up again quietly, holding Sal's prosthetic in his hand. 

"Oh..." was all he said before Sal snatched his face back. 

"Hope you're satisfied." Sal mumbled after he clicked it back into place. You looked away, but you already knew it was too late. 

Sal had seen the look on your face when you had seen his, and it wasn't a good one. Guilt washed over you in seconds, replacing the shock. This isn't what you had wanted. Yes, you did want to see his face at some point, but not like this. Not when it wasn't on his terms in a way where you could make him feel safe and have it go as slow as you both needed. But it was too late, you had both seen everything. 

You fucked up. 

He started walking away quickly and you almost had to jog to catch up to him. It was quiet between the two of you but unlike previous times where the quiet had been comforting, this time it was tense and uncomfortable. You couldn't believe how badly you fucked up at such an important moment. You could only imagine how hurt he must be right now, when all you wanted to do was apologize. 

His hand wasn't in yours anymore, and it felt empty. You opened your mouth a few times to say something, anything, to try and convey how sorry you were and that you never wanted to hurt him and that you were just shocked and to please just talk to-

"Every weekend, right?" he asked, still looking straight ahead. 

"...What?" 

"This happens every weekend until Mid-November. That's what you said, right?" You tried to get a read on his voice, but you couldn't. The challenge that you loved was now just a confusing mess. 

"Y-yeah."

"Let's go again next weekend." Sal said, his voice softer and not so distant. Your heart leapt in your chest and your breath caught in your throat. Had you not fucked up so badly after all? Despite what had just happened, had today been enough for your feelings to reach him?

"I- y-yeah sure!" you said quickly, staring at him, though he continued to stare ahead, not glancing at you at all. That should have been your first clue. 

"Yeah, I think Larry and Ashley would really have a lot of fun." Sal continued. "We didn't have a chance to check out many of the art exhibits and I think Larry would be a better ride partner than me." 

Oh.

 This was his way of letting you down gently. It's not like it had been your plan to confess tonight, but it looked like he wasn't even going to give you the chance. Knowing Sal, he was probably doing this to save you the embarrassment after everything that had happened. 

Sal Fisher didn't feel the same way about you. You knew that this was always going to be a possibility, but you didn't think it'd hurt this bad. 

Who knew that the Sally Face Killer's method was to stab you in the heart?

Still though, you had a reputation to uphold, if he was doing his best to let you down easily, the least you could do was take the rejection with grace. You'd save the crying for when you got home, in the privacy of your own bed. 

"Yeah, with all that headbanging he does, a few rides on those spinning things should be a piece of cake." your voice cracked slightly at the end, and you tried to hide it with a cough. 

Addison Apartments was coming up close on you both, and you felt relieved. 

"Thanks for inviting me out today." Sal said as you headed in. "I'm gonna go check on Larry."

He was gonna go tell Larry about how badly you fucked up. 

"Alright." you replied. "I'll, uh, see you at school then." 

For a few moments you were alone on the first floor as Sal used the elevator to go down. He had thanked you, but it didn't feel genuine. He was usually the first to tell someone if he had fun but those last few moments had completely tarnished everything. It wouldn't even surprise you if he shoved the stuffed animal somewhere he would never have to look at it again. 

The elevator finally dinged and you were thankful that no one was inside. It was when the doors finally closed that tears started to form in your eyes. Your parents would be out late tonight- Saturday was their date night. You could go to your room and cry all you wanted without having to worry about them asking intruding questions. 

 Walking into the kitchen, you kicked off your shoes and headed to your room quickly, shutting the door behind you. How had today gone so wrong? How could you have reacted so poorly to seeing your friend and crushes' face? 

And now that you had seen his face, what did that mean? Of course, it was too late to do anything about your feelings at this point, Sal had seen the look on your face when you stared at him. There was no coming back from that. Actions aside though, what did seeing his face really mean to  you in terms of how you felt about him? 

You laid down and closed your eyes, tears still running down your face. Taking deep shaky breaths to try and calm your nerves, you brought the image of his face to mind, at least what you could remember what you had seen today. 

It was best to think of one piece of his face at a time, starting from the bottom up. You had seen his chin before, that wasn't anything that bothered you by now. His lips were thinner than you had thought to begin with, though that was probably because the few times you had glimpsed them, it had been shadowed by the prosthetic. The upper lip was slightly misshapen, as if a part of it had been torn and sewn back together. His lips still looked soft though, 

The nose. Okay, that was something that would take some getting used to. You think there was a slight bump where a nose would normally be, as though the doctors had attempted to keep some of the cartilage in place. The more you thought about it, the more okay it became. 

Skin, you didn't have a problem with. It was patchy and uneven in texture and color but it was okay. There were scars all over his face, from deep looking gashes to sharp thin lines. The skin was pale or red mostly, unsurprising as you were sure that the prosthetic didn't allow much sunlight- not that he would ever take it off outside anyway. His skin also seemed thin and delicate. You briefly wondered what it would feel like to touch his cheeks and feel the different textures of his face. Would he even allow someone to get that close?  

His eyes were the least surprising to you. His eyes had darker circles than you had noticed before, but they were still the same eyes. Or eye? For the sake of argument, you went with eyes. Underneath the prosthetic you sometimes had trouble seeing his eyes, but sometimes when the light hit him just right you were struck by how blue they were.  You had grown to love that shade of blue. 

Blue hadn't meant much to you until you met Sal Fisher. 

The overall expression was... blank. Almost as neutral as his prosthetic. You wondered if it was because he didn't want to show any emotion while so vulnerable or because for so long he never needed his face to communicate. 

As you pieced together his face in your mind, a pain shot through your heart as you realized something important. 

No matter what his face looked like, you still desperately liked him. 

The next hour was dedicated to clinging to your pillow and crying ugly tears. The next was dedicated to looking over your phone and trying to decide if you should talk to Larry or Ashley about what happened. 

You couldn't tell them the whole truth, you decided. They had both seen Sals' face before and had been so kind about it. The way Sal talked about it, they didn't even blink at the sight of him. 

You felt awful. 

Your phone dinged.

AshleyFace: So how'd it go?

Here goes nothing. You were glad you were home alone in your room and not around anyone else. 

BlankFace: Sal was a complete gentleman and let me down gently. I'm glad I had a chance to go out with him though, I don't have any regrets. 

You had so many regrets. 

AshleyFace: He turned you down? I'm so sorry. I thought you two would have been a cute couple. 

BlankFace: It's okay, at least now you and I can finally be together ;)

AshleyFace: Ha ha. I don't think my girlfriend would like that too much. 

BlankFace: I meant me and Todd. 

AshleyFace: He's still super gay and I think he's got a date with someone coming up. 

BlankFace: ....Chug?

AshleyFace: You know he's got a huge thing for Maple LOL 

BlankFace: Is everyone hooking up except me??

AshleyFace: Larry?

BlankFace: I don't think I have the heart to come between him and his right hand. I'm a flirt, not a homewrecker. 

AshleyFace: LMAO

You smiled as you hunched over your phone. You couldn't bring yourself to tell her exactly what happened, but at least you were able to talk to her a little bit. Acting like you were okay made everything else a little bit more okay. 

What you both saw couldn't be unseen, but you could at least try and move forward. You just hoped that you hadn't lost him as a friend. 

...

School on Mondays always suck, but school on Mondays after a terrible first date with a close friend sucked way harder than anything else. You shoved your bookbag into your locker and headed towards the cafeteria where most people gathered before class started. Normally you would have walked together with Sal and Larry but you had dragged your feet all morning, and told the group chat to go on ahead before you. Sal always liked being more early, and though Larry wasn't exactly a morning person he'd always show up to school with his best friend. 

You looked over at the table where you all met and froze for a moment. You hadn't spoken a word to Sal since Saturday and a knot formed in the pit of your stomach. It was a nauseating feeling to think about going over there and acting like nothing had happened at all this weekend. 

It was easier to just head towards Homeroom, a quiet period where you didn't have any of your friends to talk to. You decided that it would be better to lay low for a while. 

Laying low wasn't super hard. You had art with Ashley and Larry (though Larry was seated at the opposite end of the room, making it slightly easier to avoid any questions), and Ashley wasn't one to pry unless she was convinced that something was wrong. You had never really told anyone the extent of your crush on the boy with pigtails, so making her think you were really okay was surprisingly easy. 

Though Larry was usually one to drop subjects if asked, you found it harder to avoid any questions from him. He pulled you to the side between classes and tried to ask what happened. 

"He's not interested." you replied, trying to shrug it off. "It's no one's fault."

"It... might be mine." Larry suddenly said. "I think I might have said something to make him think that it wasn't a real date."

Oh the irony. You almost wished he was right and that was the reason things were now awkward between you and Sal. You shook your head and place a hand on his shoulder. 

"If that's the case, then it's double clear that he wasn't interested." you said with a small smile. 

"Looks like my crush was dead on arrival, huh?" 

"I'm really sorry about it." Larry frowned. 

"Dude, it's fine." just had to shake him off the trail of your shattered heart now. "Now that's Sal's off the list you better watch yourself- you're third in line." 

"Third? Wait, who's second?"

You just smiled and winked at him as you ducked into your next class. 

It seemed like Sal hadn't told Ashley and Larry about what happened at the end of the date. It was a relief, really. You still weren't ready to face them about how you had treated the guy you had a crush on. 

Science class was torture. It was the one class that you had with Sal, though you didn't sit near him. He was seated near the front and you sat a few seats behind him. On one hand, it meant that he wouldn't be looking at you but on the other, it meant that you got to spend the rest of the hour staring at the back of his head. It wasn't something that normally distracted you, but today it made focusing nearly impossible. 

When the bell rang for lunch, you took your time packing up as you tried to figure out if Sal was going to approach you or not. He briefly glanced over at you, making you feel like a deer in the headlights for a moment. But he continued out the door without saying a word. 

Suddenly you didn't have much of an appetite. 

Still though, you grabbed your bagged lunch from your locker and walked towards the cafeteria, hesitating a moment before walking in and then walking right back out. You suddenly decided that your homework wasn't gonna do itself, so you got a permission slip from one of the teacher on lunch duty and made your way to the school library. You weren't allowed to eat in there, but you weren't hungry anyway. 

The library is where you spent lunch for the rest of the week. It was the one period you had where you felt okay, without the crippling guilt. You could hide in a back corner with your nose in a book, or study, or draw, and the world would leave you alone. 

"Are you avoiding Sally Face?" a voice said from behind you, causing you to jump. You had been so deep into a book that you hadn't heard anyone coming towards you. 

"Ah, what?" you turned to see Larry. "I uh... what?" 

"We haven't seen you all week." he continued. "Sally Face is starting to think you're avoiding him." 

"I'm not!" you said, defensively. "I've just got a lot of school work that I need to catch up on." 

He just shook his head. "You haven't been walking home with us either." 

You didn't have a rebuttal for that one. "I... I just..." you sighed. "Things got weird between us after last weekend." 

"Listen, I kinda get it. You liked Sal more than you let on, yeah? And it's weird now that you know he's not interested but, dude, you can't just keep ignoring all of your friends. You do still want to be friends with him, right?" 

You nodded. 

"Then stop being a coward, and walk home with us again. If you wanna keep hiding in the library at lunch that's fine but... we all miss you." 

There was a slight pang in your chest at the words. 

"Even Sal...?" you asked quietly, unsure. 

"Of course he does. He's the reason I'm talking to you right now. He wanted to talk to you himself but he didn't wanna make your uncomfortable and shit." 

"Really...?" you couldn't help but be surprised. "I thought I blew it..."

"Just 'cause he didn't feel the same way doesn't mean he doesn't still like having you around." 

"I'm an idiot I guess."

"Well yeah, duh." he laughed. "Now you're gonna come home with us today, no buts."

"But I like butts." you shot back with a smirk. 

"There it is." he laughed again. "See you after school."

"Hey, Larry?" 

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

...

It became an unspoken agreement that you and Sal didn't talk about the date, and what had happened. It was okay though, you didn't want to face him in a manner of speaking. You three started walking to school again, though it was a few weeks before you really felt okay being so close to him. 

Larry was the real champ about it though, he never let the conversations become awkward between the three of you. He always had some topic to talk about, or some song he wanted to share on your morning commutes. You didn't know what you did to have such a great friend but you were thankful. 

Sal started to slowly talk to you again as well. Despite what Larry had said it was hard to read Sal, or maybe you just weren't ready to read him yet. Talking was slow at first, his questions about science homework, asking him to grab an extra fork at lunch because you forgot to grab one, small talk. But as the fall semester crawled by, you found your friendship starting to stand on solid ground again. 

Flirting with him never felt the same though. It didn't feel right to flirt with someone who had turned you down. At the same time it felt as though he was also keeping his distance from you. You really couldn't blame him. If someone looked at you in shock and horror upon seeing your face for the first time, you wouldn't exactly want to be close to them either. 

Sometimes when you two were left alone for more than a few minutes, you considered bringing it up. You'd get so close to opening your mouth to talk to him but the words would die in your throat. On the one occasion where the words started to make their way out of your mouth, Todd had shown up to introduce you to his new boyfriend, Neil. 

Timing was really not your thing, huh? 

November came and went and your whole group buckled down to study for finals. There were many long nights where you were all crowded into Larry's basement, papers and books strewn everywhere as you all attempted last minute cramming and tutoring on each other. There was more than one night where Lisa would come home to see a handful of kids passed out in her living room, surrounded by notes, or still awake and color coding flashcards.

On one such night, you noticed that Sal was chugging an energy drink that Larry had given him through a crazy straw. One of the two that Sal had bought for you on that night. 

You couldn't tell if it hurt or helped that he still had it. 

Finals ended with a fizzle rather than a bang. You were very unsure about science, but you were confident enough that you at least passed the rest of the tests. By the time the bell rang to let you all out on the last day, everyone had collectively agreed that they were done talking about tests. 

Making your way back to Addison apartments was proving to be more difficult than expected for the three of you. It had snowed the day before and rained a little at night, making the sidewalk a long tail of ice and slush. Normally this wouldn't have been a problem, as you all had snow boots, but you had all collectively used the last three brain cells to finish up with school for the semester. This, combined with the lack of sleep from cramming, had left you all feeling slightly delirious and deciding that the three of you slipping and stumbling around was the funniest thing to ever happened. 

"Nope! Nope! Nope! Bad step!" you laughed, stumbling forward after stepping on a hidden patch of ice. You managed to not fall flat on your face this time but you were sure it was going to happen eventually. 

"Larry you should take one for the team and go first." Sal said. "We'll follow behind in your footsteps."

"No way, Sally Face." Larry replied. "If I go first and fall backwards that's a whole domino effect where I end up on top of you both." 

"My one fantasy." You said with a dramatic sigh as Larry turned and winked at you. 

Dragging Sal into your flirts was okay if you roped someone else into it as well. 

"I'll go first!" You volunteered, stretching your legs out to take a big step forward. 

"You've fallen more times than anyone!" Sal said with a shake of his head. 

"Details, details." you said with a hand wave. "Besides, we're almost there! I can see the apart- OOF!"

Your foot landed on another patch of ice, causing you to fall backwards. Larry, having been right next to you by the point, grabbed onto your arm tightly to try and steady you, but the force of your fall was too much. Something softer that the ground was suddenly pressed against your back, as Larry was pressed against your chest. 

"Ow."

"Oof."

"Fuck."

Your fall had both pulled Larry down and knocked Sal over as well. Sal had landed on his butt after unintentionally catching you on the way down, and Larry had ended up on to of you, having landed on his knees pretty hard. The three of you were a little confused for a second, before you decided to break the tension. 

"My other one fantasy." 

Larry let out a laugh that was more like a snort as he made his way back onto his feet. Behind you, you could hear Sal let out a small laugh as well. It took some doing, but eventually you all managed to stand back up, brushing off the snow and dirt from your clothes. 

"Anyone hurt?" you asked. 

"Scraped knee and hands." Larry said. 

"Scrapped elbow." you replied. 

"Scrapped butt." Sal added. 

"Want me to kiss it better?" you and Larry both said at the same time before all three of you started laughing again. 

Through the power of teamwork, the three of you managed to make it to the apartment complex with much fewer casualties. Larry left you two alone quickly, stating he wanted to get his hands cleaned up so his mom wouldn't worry. It seemed weird that he was in a rush to get going, but then Sal spoke up. 

"Hey uh, do you want to take a walk?" 

You looked at him slightly surprised at the invitation. When was the last time you had been alone for more than a few minutes to talk? 

No, you already knew the answer. 

"Sure." you agreed, and he lead you around the building, starting a trek of doing laps. 

It was quiet for a while, with nothing but the sound of your shoes crunching against the fresh snow. A cold breeze made you hug yourself and adjust the scarf around your neck so that it covered your mouth. Dumb you had forgotten to bring lip balm, and you really didn't want to get chapped lips. The sound of your name from right next to you bought you back down to Earth. 

"Are we... okay?" Sal asked, still looking ahead as he spoke. 

You weren't sure how to answer that, or even if there was a good answer to be given. 

"I... huh?" 

"That night at the festival," Sal continued. "You saw what was under my prosthetic." 

Oh. Oh no. You weren't ready for this conversation. You weren't ready to talk to him about this. Panic bubbled in the pit of your stomach. There was no going back now. 

"Yeah... I did." you said quietly. "I'm sorry." 

"You didn't rip my face off." 

You shook your head. "No but... I..." you took a deep breath, willing the small lump in your throat to go away. "I shouldn't have reacted like I did." 

"Is that why you've been avoiding me?" His voice was soft, comforting, non-judgmental. It made you want to cry even more. 

"No... well, not fully." you started, and after a moment of silence you continued. "I saw your face and reacted badly and I hated myself for reacting badly because Ashley and Larry both saw without freaking out or saying anything and I couldn't be like that for you so I just thought it’d be better to stay away." 

You finally took a breath after spewing up the word vomit. You didn't mention him not returning your feelings as you hoped that went without saying. 

"I'm used to people looking at me like that." He was trying to make you feel better, but the words just cut into your heart. Your eyes felt hot as they started to water, but you were trying hard not to let any tears escape. 

"You shouldn't though!" you snapped back. "You... you're a great guy and I like you a lot and you shouldn't have to deal with stupid people like me not knowing how to react to your face!" 

He stopped walking and looked at you. Tears were escaping your eyes now, and you were shaking hard. He reached up and placed a hand on your shoulder. 

"Do you still want to be friends?" he asked softly. 

You nodded and he pulled you into a tight, warm hug. Your nose was smooshed up against his ear muffs, and you were sure that some of your tears were landing in his hair but you felt okay for the first time in months. 

It was scary how empathetic and kind Sal could be. Always willing to give people as many chances as they needed to grow. You hoped that one day you could show someone even a fraction of the kindness that he had shown you. 

"I missed you." He said, not letting go of you. 

"I missed you, too." you whispered back. 

You two stayed like that for a while. Even though it was freezing outside, his hug was so warm. It was you who ended up pulling back first, not wanting to accidentally get some snot into his hair. 

"Now that things are better I wanted to ask you something." Sal said, starting to walk again, you fell into step with him. 

"What's up?" 

"Dad's wanting to have a small holiday party next week." Sal explained. "Nothing fancy but he wants you and Ashley and Larry to come by and roast marshmallows and watch Rudolf." 

You couldn't help but smile. "That sounds like a lot of fun, actually. I'd love to drop by." 

The two of you were in front of the building again, and he lead the two of you inside. 

"Cool, the party starts at six next Friday." He pushed the button for the elevator. 

"Six on Friday. Gotcha." you pulled out your cell and made a note of it." 

The two of you said your goodbyes as he made his way to the basement to invite Larry and you made your way back up to your room. 

Things were finally starting to feel normal again. 

...

LarryFace: so did you 2 kiss and make up yet?

BlankFace: Too soon. But we did make up. 

LarryFace: u goin to the party then?

BlankFace: Yup! You?

LarryFace: ya me and mom are gonna be there

BlankFace: Cool! See you there then! 

Next Chapter

[bluehhj]

listen to me — chapter 20

LISTEN TO ME  — 0020

listen to me masterlist;

WORDS: 2.5K

As they waited in the queue, Jinah repeated to herself that she didn't have to be afraid, for all that was fake blood, special effects and costumed people. There was nothing to fear, it was just a movie like any other.

Jisung, who was standing next to Choi, would choke out a laugh every now and then while looking at her out of the corner of his eye. Although he had seen more than three times, he had chosen the movie "The Nun" to make sure that Jinah had never been interested in even looking at the trailers, and the queue for that session wasn't so long and so they would've to be in the midst of so many people inside the movie theater, since neither of them liked crowded places.

"You know you don't have to go, do you?" Han asked as they advanced a little further toward the entrance. As much as he wanted to see her false pose of brave collapse like a house of cards, he didn't want her to be traumatized. "We can change and see a romance."

"I don't want to." Jinah smiled nervously. "This movie isn't scary, I don't know why you're so worried."

Jisung laughed and raised his eyebrows quickly, "All right, you're the one who knows."

When they handed in the tickets and entered the dark room, Jinah swallowed hard to note that besides her and Jisung, only about ten people were there, most of them concentrating on the front seats. Her intention was to have something to distract herself with, whether it was a child chewing popcorn or a couple kissing, but apparently she'd have to keep full attention in the movie until it finished and twisted to avoid suffering a panic attack during the mission.

Jisung chose a pair of seats from the next to last to sit down and Choi tried to see the bright side of the situation. At least if she was reasonably close to the door, she might run somewhere else if things started to run out of control — and out of control she meant witnessing some evil manifestation off the screen or something. The straw of the soda glass was stuck between her lips during the entire sequence of unnecessary trailers and advertisements, and Jinah even considered the possibility of actually watching that movie as a normal person, but then the following words came out before her eyes: "Based On Real Facts".

"Fuck, Jisung!" she complained, taking care not to speak as loudly as she wanted. "Why didn't you tell me that this shit really happened?"

"You said you weren't afraid."

"I-I..." Jinah thought for a moment and fell silent, regaining her composure. "I'm not afraid, I just don't like leaving my house uninformed," she lied.

Jisung laughed again, amused by all that, and murmured a "relax" before looking at the screen. The movie had just begun.

                                           ♡˖°

It was as if Jinah was a balloon about to burst with every new fright.

No matter how many times she looked at the clock, the minutes just didn't seem to go away. Her heart was so fast that she felt like an old woman with a tachycardia; her eyes didn't stop quietly anywhere and her nervous system was being extremely tested by Han, who laughed at her face every five minutes.

"I can also watch a horror movie, she said," Jisung mocked. "I wonder where that brave girl has gone now."

And even as she was about to ask for help, Jinah still wanted to support her fearless image: "I'm still fine, if you want to know."

"It's not what it looks like." Jisung put his hand on the girl's damp palm. "You're sweating, you're so nervous."

Choi would certainly say some tattered excuse, such as blaming the nonexistent heat, but, before she could open her mouth, the fucking idiot Nun reappeared just to put an end to the little self-control she still had and her first involuntary reaction was to squeal a little and squeezing Jisung's hand against hers, entwining their fingers without even realizing it, and then bringing close to her heart.

"I don't want anymore!" she whimpered.

The boy smiled and, even in the partial darkness, stopped to watch the girl's face as he felt the beating of her heart. It was undeniable the fact that he had found her beautiful from the first moment he laid eyes on hers, but he didn't always admire her details so closely. Jinah was sweet and sour in the right dose. Sometimes it sounded a bit childish, but it was captivating. Beautiful eyebrows, beautiful eyes, flawless smile, rosy lips; Jisung couldn't deny even to himself: she was beautiful at his sight.

"Why did you want to come, being so afraid of this kind of movie?" he asked without taking his eyes off Jinah's almost terrified face. Part of him wanted to hold her.

"'Cause I wanted to go out with you again" there was this detail: Choi didn't hide things when she got nervous.

"But we could go out anyway, you silly girl." Jisung got up and pulled the girl to do the same. "C’mon, let's eat something."

Jinah didn't protest and followed the boy out of the room. The funniest thing was that they were walking hand in hand around the mall as if they were a couple and only noticed it halfway to their chosen diner, which resulted in a minimally embarrassed Jisung and a half-annoyed Jinah cause she had lost the touch. After facing the queue of requests — Choi recovering from the trauma of the movie and Han teasing her —, they sat at a table by the window.

"How's the internship?" Jinah changed the subject, since she didn't want to talk about the events of minutes ago after having sworn that she'd never see another horror movie in her life. "I know it's only been three days, but do you feel well already?"

"Yes, it's interesting." Jisung took a sip of soda while his eyes searched the place to see if there was anyone he knew. "The only problem is that, sometimes, the people are too noisy."

"At least you're not in Changbin's place, who's going to start his next Monday. Imagine just having to put up with an entire classroom full of hyperactive kids." Jinah grimaced in disgust. She envied her friend's patience to deal with that sort of thing. "At the very least, I think I'd have a stroke."

"Does he really want to be a teacher?" Jisung frowned. "He'll scare the kids with his homicidal face."

"Of course not, Changbin's a baby inside."

"I don't know... This week even he was completely angry there in the store, just missing breaking everything."

"It must be because Jade and him were going through some problems, but now they're well again" Jinah glorified the heavens for that. It was horrible when the two of them weren't well, because a tense atmosphere settled in the apartment and everything seemed out of place. “The infamous jealousy."

Jisung shook his head in brief agreement and there was a pause in the conversation as they ate their sandwiches. Added to the topic of jealousy, it was a perfect loophole for him to begin to travel in his own thoughts and to bring up subjects he didn't want to revive, but which were always there, marking presence inside his head. Jinah soon noticed the boy's rapid change of mood.

"Are you thinking of her?" she asked cautiously and Jisung sighed. Han felt as if he could never be with Jinah without the shadow of Chaerin appearing between them as a barrier. He didn't want to ruin the night with his problems, but Choi was willing to listen to them, because, in her conception as a psychologist, you can't overcome anything by trying to choke it.

"No" Jisung lied and forced a slight smile. "It's just bullshit in my head."

"It's okay, you don't have to lie to me. You were like this after I told you about jealousy."

"We had a few crises," and before he could stop the words, Han was already venting. It wasn't his fault that talking to Jinah was so comfortable. "Or rather, I had a few crises..." another sigh. "Before I didn't realize it, but, looking better now, we haven't been well for a long time. It was a hard way to reach the last point."

"Can I ask how it happened? I mean, you say Chaerin ran away with another guy, but I wanted to get it right" Jinah knew she was stepping on eggshells by asking all those questions, but just kept insisting on them because the boy, however, didn't show any hesitation at the time of answering them.

"She had left home early that day" was the first time Jisung had spoken openly about it. He remembered hiding many details when he reported what had happened to Yoorim and Hyunjin. Not because he didn't trust his friends, but because he didn't feel comfortable enough. "I called and always fell in the mail box. She didn't even respond to the messages. She just came back at night, when I was already thinking that something serious had happened, she apologized before going to the room and packing" Jisung even would cry, but when it came to his ex-fiancée, his tears were already dry. "I asked what was going on, but she held the cry and didn't answer. Something told me it was a cry of guilt." rolled his eyes. "She left and I couldn't do anything. When I looked out the window I saw Seungmin's car and it was clear."

"So, you already suspected she might be having something with Seungmin before that happens?"

"Maybe" Jisung bit his lower lip for a moment. Even though it was complicated, he felt good talking about all those things that had been trapped in his throat for so long. "I had read some messages and noticed strange things, but it was always 'my head's thing'" he made quotations with his fingers, repeating what he heard so much from Chaerin's mouth whenever he asked about it. "But I can't feel as much anger at Seungmin as I wanted, after all, if Chaerin hadn't paid attention to him, we'd be fine now. It makes no sense to blame only the affair, because who really owed me respect didn't."

Jinah nodded, approving Jisung's way of thinking, so she wouldn't have the trouble to make him understand that part.

"When the two left," Han continued his account of the worst night of his life. "I felt the whole world fall on my back. It was difficult to clean up the mess of glass shards I made in the room, and, before I could ruin the whole kitchen too, I remembered the call center number. I meant to talk to Sorn, I think you know her." Jinah nodded again, smiling slightly as she remembered the Thai. "She had helped me a lot in the last few days, but it was you who answered this time. And by the way, the service wasn't one of the best," he joked, although he was telling the truth.

"I confess I felt a little bad for not having the standard treatment with you," Jinah admitted. "But I only started to act normally after I was sure you wouldn't do anything you could regret, otherwise I wouldn't have said so much bullshit. We would've extended the conversation if you hadn't turned it off."

"You threw it in my face that at least you hadn't been kicked by your fiancé, you wanted what?"

"But you did stress me first!" Jinah defended herself, patting the table as she remembered that Jisung had also thrown unnecessary things into her face. "I didn't return because I thought you wanted to be a little alone, or maybe you'd call again to talk to some other attendant, but, anyway, the idea of looking for you in college was already firmly in my head."

"I actually thought about calling again to talk to someone else, but your voice..." Jisung pressed his lips together as if he had no weapons to deal with. "It managed to calm me even by saying idiots."

"I realized you liked it" Jinah smiled. "So much that you must've wasted a good few minutes looking for my branch in the early morning."

"Just a few" Jisung smiled too. "Still, I thought you didn't care."

"You thought wrong. And I do care until today, you know that."

"Thank you, JinJin." Choi used all her willpower not to freak out when she heard Han call her that way without being drunk. "I don't even know how to thank you for all this."

"You could thank me by moving on," Jinah murmured, hesitantly for the first time. No one could blame her for looking at Jisung and feeling an overwhelming desire to kiss him, but not being able to do so, after all, the boy was still trapped in his old relationship. It wasn't as if she expected the love he felt for Chaerin to disappear overnight, but she believed he had to at least try, and Jinah was so willing to help him overcome all those bad things... "I know it's hard, but it's been almost a month. Life has to go on, don't you think?"

"With moving on," Jisung put his elbows on the table. "do you mean to get a good mood or open my heart to let other people in? Because, if it's the first choice, I think I'm already doing it."

"The two options sort of complete."

"I don't know, Jinah." Jisung ran a hand through his hair absently. Choi almost died without air. Why did he do that to her poor heart? "I don't want to be with someone while I love someone else, and it's not like I have too many suitors."

Jinah blushed, so much that it was impossible to hide from the boy.

"Wait..." Jisung's eyes widened. "Don't you-..."

"No! Of course not!" the girl had tried to fix it, but her face only turned redder. "Aish, don't start to misinterpret things!"

It wasn't the first time that Jinah had given him signals that shouldn't be given to mere friends, but Han always took it as a joke. However, since the small meeting at the home of Hyunjin and Yoorim, when Choi quietly asked for a kiss, a set of internal doubts struck Jisung. If Woojin was there, he'd probably tell him to stop being dumb and grab the opportunity, but, in his head, it wasn't as easy as it seemed.

"Sorry" he disguised as if he really had misunderstood and believed in the girl's acting. "Would you like some ice cream?"

He didn't even have to ask twice.

And as he looked at Jinah without her realizing it, Jisung wished, with all his heart, that he might correspond to her correctly someday.

[turnupswritessometimes]

Lavender Eyes - Glimmerdora - Ch6

Title: Lavender Eyes

Chapter: 5

Word Count: 4119

Summary: Adora’s on the football tem. Glimmer’s in band. They think they can’t stand each other, until a series of accidents forces them to open up to each other.

Note: This is also available on Archive of Our Own and it’s probably best to follow it there, as I remember to update it more. I would post a link, but then tumblr wouldn’t include it in search results.

6

Things had changed. But in some ways, they hadn’t changed at all, because Catra may barely be speaking to Adora, but that didn’t stop her from sitting in the passenger side of Adora’s car on Monday morning.

Adora didn’t say anything. Mainly because Beatrix was still peering out of the window and it was really none of her business what was happening at school. That was something that Catra and Adora had always managed – to lie about what was happening between them and what was happening at school. Kid drama never got taken to the adults. That meant trouble. So she kept her mouth shut and started driving.

There was a different atmosphere in the car. A tense, unsure how to step around each other atmosphere.

“You going to pinky’s again?” Catra asked. They were already halfway to school.

“Yes,” Adora said. “Probably. And don't call her that.”

“What?” Catra’s foot was up on the dash. It had never bothered Adora before. She had never allowed herself to look at just how tight Catra’s jeans were getting. “That's not the worst I could say - could call her a dy-“

“Don't. Catra. Do you even know how offensive that is?”

“Why do you even care?” She could sense narrowed eyes on her face and kept her eyes on the road, resisting not to beep the horn at the guy in front of them. He wasn’t even driving that slow. “If I didn't know better I'd say you were gay.”

Adora paused. She wanted to take the leap – because if she couldn’t trust Catra, who could she trust? “What if I was?”

“You? Please. Pretty sure Beatrix wants you to marry a doctor, have two children - a boy and a girl, naturally and live happily ever after.” Catra crossed her legs over, looking out of the window again. Adora couldn’t see her face.

“Maybe I won't marry anyone.”

“Perfect Adora not doing what mummy says?”

“Are you telling me delinquent Catra is going to do what she does say? Are you going to get married?” This was easier, Adora thought. This was teasing and banter and it was all surface level. That’s how it should be. Surface level – not deep, meaningful conversations with Bow.

Catra frowned at her, her bottom lip sticking out in a pout. “Touché.” She paused then, her eyes glancing over Adora’s face with sudden sincerity. “You’d tell me, if you were, wouldn't you?”

“You're my sister,” Adora said. “We tell each other everything.”

It wasn’t an outright lie. It had never been a lie, but it was fast becoming one.

Still, Adora reasoned to herself as she pulled into the school parking lot, Catra was being unfair too. Catra was hiding drinking and smoking and who knew what else from Adora. So it was only fair.

They had parked up when Catra put a hand out. She didn’t even look at Adora as she said, “Hey, ill take your phone. Then beatrix can't track you.

Thanks.

This is for me. So, I don't get into trouble for not going everywhere with my keeper.

They had parked up when Catra put a hand-out. She didn’t even look at Adora as she said, “Hey, I'll take your phone. Then Beatrix can't track you."

Adora blinked. Then pulled out her phone and held it out. "Thanks."

Catra took it without looking at her. "This is for me. So I don't get into trouble for not going everywhere with my keeper."

With that, she slammed the car door.

Adora waited for a full minute, her eyes on the clock built into her car. Then she climbed out too, shrugging her backpack onto her back and walking up to the school. It was clear that things had changed. She was receiving odd looks and people muttered as she walked passed. Lonnie ignored her when she opened her locker.

Then slammed it closed. Lonnie was scowling at her palm on the door, but still didn’t look at Adora.

“You gunna talk about Friday night or not?”

“I…don’t know what there is to say?”

“The band? You thanked the band? No one thanks the band-“

“They work hard and-“

“And what? It’s their hobby! That’s what they do.” Connie finally looked up, her eyes fierce.

“And we should just ignore them?”

“Yes. That’s what we do.”

“Why? Why, Lonnie?”

“Because. Because they’re annoying and pretentious and think we’re all stupid,” Lonnie said. “Because they’re all on the student council too and they don’t do shit for us. Because they’re fucking weird, Adora.”

“How are they weird?” Adora asked. They did think the football team were all stupid jocks, she knew that. But things had changed. Glimmer didn’t think that – anymore.

“Fuck, Adora.” Lonnie shook her head.

“Go on, Lonnie. Tell me.” There was an edge to Adora’s voice. She was challenging Lonnie, she realised and it made her heart race. This wasn’t a fight she wanted to have, but it wasn’t one she could avoid either. One that she could have a long time ago. Now it was harder. After sitting in a car with Glimmer and seeing those lavender eyes sparkle at her, she couldn’t ignore it.

“Because, Adora.” Lonnie leant against the locker, rolling her eyes. “They’re all lessies.”

“Oh, right,” Adora said. “Of course.”

She slammed her locker door closed and walked away. Her face was burning – with anger, she hoped. She really hoped that it looked like she was furious with Lonnie for the insinuation. Not that she felt sick. That her heart was racing because for a moment, for just a night, she had believed that it would be okay. Coming out would be okay. Maybe not.

Maybe this really was the point of no return. Now, the rest of the team was avoiding her too, shooting her confused looks. Adora had never been without friends. She had always had a clique. Since kindergarten and it scared her. If she wasn’t popular then who was she?

It played on her mind for the rest of the day. Lessons weren't so bad - she could pretend to be engrossed in Spanish or physics. It was lunch that was the real test.

For the first time in her life, Adora sat at an empty table. And maybe part of it was choice - part of it was not wanting to be sat with people who threw the terms 'lessie' and 'dyke' around. But part of it wasn't and she didn't like that part.

It was Bow who came to her rescue, carrying a tray with one hand like a waiter and a grin on his face. He sat down - like it was completely natural - like they did this everyday.  

"I've thought of a solution to your problem," Bow said in the place of 'hello.' "I'm calling it Schrodinger’s lesbian."

"Schrodinger’s lesbian?" Adora echoed. She hadn't touched her own food. Her stomach was in knots.

"Just don't come out to your mum. Keep it a secret."

"Maybe I'm not a lesbian. Maybe everyone gets feelings."

"Riiight." Bow rolled his eyes. "Adora, have you ever wanted to kiss a guy?"

"No." She spoke quickly at Bow's judgemental eyebrow raise. "But that's only because I've been ear deep in my studies my whole life."

"Right, right." Bow shrugged it off, his tone casual. But then he glanced up with that smile. "And who made you want to pull yourself out of that quicksand?"

"That's different."

"Of course, it is."

"Look - I don't - it doesn't even matter, because it's not like Glimmer even-" she paused at the look on Bow's face. He was smiling at her.

"What if I told you that Glimmer told me not to say anything on that subject."

Adora frowned.

"What did Glimmer tell you not to say anything about?" Glimmer was suddenly at the table. Sitting down and giving Bow a warning glance.

"Nothing, nothing." Bow was still smiling.

"So, we're eating lunch together," Adora said.

"Is that allowed?" Glimmer asked.

"I guess so. It's not like anyone else in lining up."

"That's what happens when you stand up for the band," Glimmer said.

"Welcome to the loser's club." Bow stretched his hands out in front of him, still grinning.

"You're not losers."

"I was quoting It."

"What?"

"It."

"What's It?"

"The movie. It."

"Oh my God." Glimmer put her head in her hands. "It's like watching dumb and dumber."

“Where you see idiocy, Glimmer, I see an opportunity.” Bow leant forward. “Movie. Night. This. Evening.”

Adora looked at Glimmer. Glimmer looked back at her, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m sure Adora has better things to do with her time,” Glimmer said.

“I don’t think Adora does,” Adora said. “I think Adora would like to try a movie night.”

“On a school night?”

“Yeah.” Though her heart was pounding. A school night. Home late. No studying.

But she could do this. She could go to Glimmer’s house and watch a movie and not freak out. And she did. She managed to laugh along in the car, even though Glimmer and Bow were quoting vines and she had literally never seen a single one in her life. She managed to say hello to Glimmer’s mom, which made her smile at them from above their laptop.

“Congratulations to the football team on another outstanding victory.”

“Thanks, ma’am.”

That had made Glimmer’s mom laugh and Glimmer take Adora’s arm, rolling her eyes and muttering, “really, Adora? Do you have to be so perfect all the time?”

“Oh, I really do,” Adora said.

Glimmer turned then, a strange smile on her face that seemed to live mostly in her eyes. It brought heat to Adora’s face and she had to look away. Her stomach was still in knots, but she was determined to ignore it. It would be fine, she told herself. She did not have to study every day. In fact, she deserved a day off. She deserved to spend time with her friends.

At least, if Catra was allowed, she should be too. The thought wasn’t convincing. She wasn’t Catra – there weren’t the same rules. But she was trying – she was really trying because she wanted to be less like herself and more like Glimmer.

That was, until the movie started. Children singing a nursery rhyme that sent chills up Adora’s arms.

“Wait,” She said, too late. “Is this a horror movie?”

“Yeah.” Bow said. He had buried himself in pillows, creating a wall between himself and Adora. Which meant that she was incredibly aware of Glimmer’s arm pressed against her own.

“I’m really not into horror movies.”

“Have you ever watched one?”

“Well, no.”

“Well Adora, sometimes you have to try things to know if you like them or not.”

Adora looked at Bow. He smiled back, but his eyes were behind her. On Glimmer. He raised an eyebrow slightly and Adora scowled at him. It was better to focus on the movie than on his smug face. Or how Glimmer shifted so that she was sat better every five minutes or so. Every time she did, she nudged against Adora.

The film didn’t end up being as scary as Adora thought it would be. Not when Glimmer and Bow were making sarcastic comments all the way through, and especially not when she could smell the shampoo Glimmer had used.

And when it was over, Bow glanced at his phone and groaned, throwing himself backwards onto the pillows.

“Look at the time! And I’m so tired! I don’t know how I’ll ever make it down the street!”

“Do you want to stay here the night, Bow?” Glimmer said, with a tone that suggested she knew the answer.”

“It’s so late, Glimmer, I couldn’t bother my dads at this time of night.”

“It’s not even ten o’clock.” Adora said.

“So late.”

“You can stay too if you want,” Glimmer said. She glanced at Adora.

“Yes!” Bow was back up in an instant, an arm around Adora’s shoulder. “Best friends night! We’ll marathon the original It as well, make s’mores in the microwave-“

“It’s a school night,” Adora said. It was one thing to blow the afternoon off – but she had a sneaking suspicion she would be looking at her textbooks before she went to sleep. It was meant to help you remember it, after all.

“I’m staying.”

“Bow, half of your house is already here,” Glimmer said. She rolled her eyes, but she was still smiling.

“I also don’t have my phone with me.”

“You can use mine.” Bow was already pulling his out of his pocket.

“No – no, my mom – she doesn’t – she doesn’t answer if she doesn’t know who it is.” It was a half-lie. Generally true, but she also couldn’t risk Catra spilling the beans. Anyway, her phone was at home. By all accounts, she was too.

“It’s fine,” Glimmer said. Almost too quickly.

“Did your phone break or something?” Bow asked. “Why’d you forget it?”

Well, she wasn’t about to tell them that Beatrix had installed a tracker. That she was sneaking out and breaking the rules just by being with them.

“Yeah, just left it on the side like a dummy.” Sometimes it scared her how casually she could lie. Between her and Catra, it was easy to come up with something believable fast.

There was a pause. A horrible pause where Adora was terrified that they were about to find out. But then Glimmer nudged Adora with her elbow. “C’mon, you, I’ll drive you home.”

Adora’s stomach jumped. She tried not to let it show on her face as she stood.

“Can I hang out with your mom whilst you’re gone?” Bow asked after them.

“No.”

“Can I raid the fridge?”

“As long as you leave my chocolate.”

“Boo.”

Glimmer flipped the bird at him before she followed Adora up the staircase.

“Bow’s actually going home?” Mrs Gongjunim called from the living room. There was a documentary on as they passed.

“Ah, no,” Glimmer stuck her head around the doorframe and Adora dithered behind her. She couldn’t imagine springing something like that on a parent. A few days notice was needed, at least. “He’s staying, I’m dropping Adora back.”

Mrs Gongjunim looked around. She smiled at Adora with the air of a queen and she found herself trying to fix an awkward smile on her face back.

“Thank you for having me,” she said.

“It’s a pleasure, Adora. Though, I don’t think it’s a good idea to leave Bow alone.”

“He’s been alone here plenty of times,” Glimmer said. There was a tightness in her voice.

Mrs Gongjunim raised an eyebrow. She stood, switching off the t.v without even looking. “It’s getting late, Glimmer. Why don’t I drop Adora back?”

“Because that would be weird? She’s like half an hour away – tops.”

“Is this just because I’m your headteacher?”

“It’s because you’re my mom.” Glimmer crossed her arms.

Adora shifted her weight. An argument was brewing in the air – she could feel it. It made her tense – made her want to run. To make herself small and get out of the way. She wondered if Mrs Gongjunim would shout. If Glimmer would shout back. An image popped into her head of Glimmer with bruises that matched her eye colour.

She squeezed her eyes tight – voices buzzing around her like wasps. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be happening here as well – where everything was nice, clean and smelt of vanilla-

A hand touched her shoulder.

She opened her eyes to see Mrs Gongjunim looking down at her. She was smiling slightly, but there was an elegant crease in her brow that showed concern. Glimmer was stood behind her, her arms crossed as she scowled at the floor. She had blown out her cheeks slightly and it brought a cute blowfish to Adora’s mind.

“Shall I meet you in the car?” Mrs Gongjunim said. She smiled as she glanced between them. “I’ll leave you to say your goodbyes.”

That made Glimmer blush bright red. “Mom!”

But Gongjunim was laughing at her child yelling at her as she headed down the hall, fishing car keys out of a trinket dish like a Roman lady plucking grapes from a bunch.

Adora’s face was warm too. The insinuation had been heavy in Mrs Gongjunim’s voice and she cleared her throat as if that would help to dispel the awkward atmosphere.

“Thanks – for today,” Glimmer said. She pulled at the sleeve of her oversized cardigan and smiled self-consciously. She wasn’t quite meeting Adora’s eyes. “I know it must have been a struggle.”

“I don’t know what you mean.” Adora tried to bluff.

Glimmer just shrugged. “It just seems like – you’re not a person to change up your schedule. It was cool that you did, for us. When we’re the reason the team ditched you.”

“Don’t make it sound like I’m doing you a favour.” Adora was surprised to find anger sprouting in her voice. “You’re doing me a favour. Just for letting me hang around you when I’m an asshole.”

“Then the pleasure was all mine.” Glimmer was really smiling now, her cheeks glowing. She glanced up at Adora, then suddenly she was throwing her arms around her. She was hugging her – tight – maybe as tightly as she had at that first game of the season. Adora couldn’t tell. It seemed much more intimate now. She could feel the shape of Glimmer’s body against hers and Adora’s arms were around Glimmer’s waist before she could think about it. Glimmer was warm. And she smelt of vanilla and pink lemonade infuser sticks. Adora hadn’t known two smells that worked so well together – that were so Glimmer.

Then the moment was over, and Glimmer was walking Adora to the door, looking only slightly better. Adora wondered if her face was still boiling – she figured it was, from the way the cold air felt against her cheeks.

She climbed into Glimmer’s mom’s car – a Honda, the most mom car imaginable, turning to see Glimmer’s silhouette at the doorway. She was leant against the doorframe, waving and smiling. Adora felt short of breath.

“You know, I used to hate you,” Glimmer’s mom seemed to be talking almost to herself as she started down the driveway. She saw Adora’s expression in the rearview mirror and laughed. “I only mean because I had to hate whoever Glimmer hated.”

“She really hated me, huh?” Adora managed to stumble out.

“You know, I could never quite figure it out. She’d curse you in one breath, then turn around and say that you had beautiful blue eyes in the next.”

Adora stopped breathing for a moment. “Oh.”

“But she doesn’t talk to me. I have to try and catch her and Bow’s conversations.”

Adora forced a laugh. “You don’t listen in?”

“I respect my daughter’s privacy,” Mrs Gongjunim said. “If there’s something she wants to tell me, she knows I’m all ears. But there’s a line. She can decide where she wants to place it.”

“Would you,” Adora paused. She took a breath. Something about this felt safe – in a mom’s car in the dark. “Would you track her phone?”

"We considered it. Just in case either of us were out late. But I'm not out very much these days and Glimmer's always with Bow, or most lately, you. I know she'll be safe if she's with someone else, and if I'm worried I can call. I trust her. That's the most important thing - trust."

"Did you swallow a parenting book, or something?" Yet Adora was picking her nails. Beatrix didn't trust her. And Adora didn't think she trusted her either. She was far more likely to call Bow or Glimmer of she needed help.

"In a way." Mrs Gongjunim smiled. "I have a degree in child psychology."

"Oh." Adora wasn't sure what to say to that. They were there. At the top of her road and she said, "I can - walk from here."

"Nonsense. I'm seeing you get through the door safely."

So Adora scrunched in her seat, as if that would stop Mrs Gongjunim realising what street they were on. She stopped outside Adora's and cut the engine.

"How long have you and Glimmer been together?" she asked.

Adora was sure that her brain had stopped circuiting. For a moment, she froze, then all of her words came out at once. "We're - we're not- dating. We're - friends. We're just - I'm not even, well I'm not sure if I'm even-"

She was getting used to the word, but she didn't want to say it in front of her headteacher. It felt like a word adults shouldn't hear. Just a teenage secret.

"I see." But Mrs Gongjunim's face was kind. She smiled at Glimmer in the orange light of the streetlamp. "Adora, if you're ever struggling, I'd be happy to talk you through some of your feelings."

"I - I don't think-" Adora broke off. There were so many awkward elements to that. How on earth could she go to her headteacher and say that she had a crush on her daughter? Not to mention the kick in her gut at the mention of it. Counselling. It made her physically recoil. No. No, counselling wasn't perfect. Counselling was admitting that she couldn't cope. And she could. She could cope. "I think that would be kind of weird. You're my best friend's mom."

"Yes, I can see why that would be an issue." There was a pause. Adora put her hand on the car door. She was itching to get out. "I'll save you the over protective talk on if you hurt my daughter, then."

Adora gave an awkward laugh - as if that was amusing - just to be polite, and climbed out the car, still muttering thank yous.

It was only when she had closed the front door as quietly as she could behind her, that she realised what she said. That Glimmer was her best friend. How did that happen?

No, she knew how. It was the car rides and the milkshakes and everything in between. But she didn't know when. Couldn't pinpoint an exact moment where she had felt like Catra wasn't her friend.

And Glimmer was, apparently. Adora's best friend, who she had a crush on. She couldn't believe the cliche of it all. And it was terrifying. It was terrifying how Glimmer's smile made her heart pound. As terrifying as a horror movie.

Yet, the horror movie that they had watched hadn't been scary at all. Adora had managed that. She remembered what Bow had said at lunch. That Glimmer had told him to shut up about it. Glimmer's mom had said Glimmer had talked about Adora's eyes.

So maybe it wasn't that scary after all.

*

"I don't think your mom likes me."

"I meant to tell you I like your hair like that."

Adora wondered if she should have been surprised to find Glimmer crouching on the porch roof. But it seemed so natural. That she would just be drifting off to sleep to hear a knock on her window. She had peeked through the curtains – terrified at first that it was one of the team. Then her eyes had made out Glimmer’s shape in the darkness. She had opened the window without a second thought and now they were there – just staring at each other.

"What?"

"What?"

“You'd better come in," Adora whispered. "Unless you want to stay out there all night, Romeo?"

Glimmer grinned at that. She pressed a hand to her heart, the other to her forehead. "I take thee at thy word – call me but love, and I’ll be new baptis’d!"

"Ssshh!" Adora pressed a finger to her lips, but she was giggling. Giggling. Adora. The words didn't usually go together. "You'll wake my mom or Catra."

"Oh shit, wouldn't want to wake the nurse."  Glimmer climbed through, sitting on the windowsill so that the night air stirred the hair on the back of her neck. “No, more like that gross-ass guy in Tempest.”

“Don’t.” But Adora was still reeling from the Shakespeare. She couldn’t quote it – not like that. “Did you leave Bow on his own?”

"Yeah, why?" Glimmer swung her legs slightly. "He's busy texting his dreamboat. I thought I'd hang out with you."

Adora sat on the end of her bed. Why was she nervous? How could she be nervous in her own home? Of Glimmer. Glimmer, who she said was her best friend.

Glimmer who wanted to hang out with her.

"Isn't Bow your best friend?" she asked. It used to make her heart pound, now she just felt curious.

"Yeah, but, hanging out with you feels," Glimmer paused, tilting her head to one side. "Different." It made Adora's breath catch. "My mom doesn't hate you."

"She seemed - I don't know, like she was giving me the third degree." Adora leant backwards on the bed and turned her lamp on. It lit the room with a soft, yellow glow. Made Glimmer look like the colours of a sunset. "Like she was a dad cocking her gun because I looked at her daughter."

Glimmer laughed aloud, then clamped a hand over her mouth when Adora shushed her. Her eyes bulged as they waited to be found out.

But there were no sounds in the hallway. Only Glimmer and Adora trying to stifle breathless laughter.

"God," Glimmer whispered. " I'm so sorry. It's better than when she was trying to get me to come out to her."

"Oh yeah?"

"She kept telling me about all these lesbians on shows that she's been watching. I think she was just googling them."

Adora wanted to laugh, but her smile faded when she went to . "At least she - cares."

Glimmer tilted her head again. She frowned, ever so slightly. "What do you mean?"

"I mean - I don't - I don't even know," Adora took a breath. She couldn't finish the sentence.

"Have we given you a case of the gay?" Glimmer was smiling about it, as if it was nothing. As if it was a perfectly good thing.

Adora smiled despite herself, as if smiling would fix things. "Maybe."

“And you don’t know how to tell your mom?” Glimmer moved, so that she was sat on the edge of the bed too.

“I don’t even know how to tell myself,” Adora whispered. She brought her knees up to her chest and realised just how plain her room was. Plain white walls, plain wooden furniture – no fairy lights or posters or anything with her name on it. No heart shaped cushions or fluffy blankets. It was like a hotel room.

“Oh, Adora.” Glimmer’s voice was soft. Her fingers brushed against Adora’s hair, pulling it back behind her ear. “You know, I did mean it earlier – and I meant to say it the other day, but I chickened out. Your hair looks good like this. You should wear it down more.”

Glimmer was close and her voice was low and her finger was still close to Adora’s ear. And yet she felt strangely calm. Her heart was still hammering out of her chest, but it seemed to be spurring her on. She thought that she was starting to connect the dots.

“That’s really not helping my case of the gays,” she whispered.

Glimmer paused. She was still smiling, but she wasn’t meeting Adora’s eyes.

“That sounds like a you problem,” Glimmer whispered back. “I can’t help being beautiful.”

“I never said that.”

“Yes, you did.”

That was when Adora remembered. It seemed like lifetimes ago that Glimmer was sat in her passenger seat, leaving glitter on the seat and scowling at Adora. Ages since she blew that kiss at her.

“I was feeling like shit that night,” Glimmer continued. She started to pick at some of the glittery nail polish coating her fingers like icing and, without even thinking about it, Adora put her hand over Glimmer’s to stop her. Her fingers looked like ivory against Glimmer’s olive skin. “And hearing you say that – well, I still didn’t like you, but it made me feel so much better about myself. And ever since then I’ve felt more – and I know this is about you and I’m making it about me, but – thank you. Thank you so much, Adora.”

And just like that, Glimmer tilted her face to the side and pressed her lips against Adora’s cheek.

She froze. Completely froze. Her hand was still on Glimmer’s and her heart was still pounding but she couldn’t move. It was as if she had been snapped in a polaroid camera and was just – stuck. She could only listen to the beating of her blood in her ears. Glimmer’s hand was warm under hers, and her breath was hot on her cheek.

“Oh, I’m – sorry,” Glimmer whispered. She pulled away, pulled her hand out from under Adora’s. “That – that doesn’t have to mean anything, if you don’t want it to. It can just be – like a gal pal’s thing, if you want.”

And it felt like taking a nosedive off of a cliff. It was the point of no return, but Adora was chasing Glimmer’s hand with her own fingers and squeezing it tight. She knew that her hands were cold – knew that she was freezing – and yet she hoped that Glimmer might share a little of her warmth. Just for a little while.

“No – I – I’d like it to mean something.”

She wished that she hadn’t turned the light on because it was suddenly hard to meet those lavender eyes.

“Oh,” Glimmer breathed. “Oh. Well then, I suppose we should…”

She trailed off, leaning back towards Adora. It had only just occurred to her that she didn’t have a lot of experience in this department – no experience in this department – and Glimmer almost certainly had more than her. What was she going to do? How was she going to manage to pull this off? She was going to have to kiss a girl – a girl she liked, and –

And Glimmer’s lips pressed against her own. It was a clumsy, awkward, partly misplaced kiss. Yet it made Adora’s mouth tingle and she liked it – liked it almost as much as she liked Glimmer – and if she could just tilt her head slightly –

A door creaked open in the hallway.

“Adora? Are you okay?”

She swore. Her hand tightened on Glimmer’s out of reflex. “She can’t find you here.”

“Right.” Glimmer was at the window in the next moment. She turned, her eyes sparkling as she looked up at Glimmer. Her cheeks were pink – pink and round and Glimmer was glowing. Adora felt the same – like she was full of fire and it was escaping through every one of her pores. “I’ll see you at school.”

She blew Adora a kiss, and then slid off the roof in the next moment.

Adora had never given much thought to Romeo and Juliet. She had only said it tonight in a throwaway joke. But now she was tempted to pick it up and read it – just read it for fun.

Only because she was pretty certain that she knew exactly how Juliet felt.

[thesilverstaganddoe]

The Beginning: Psychology and the Law (Killing Eve Fic) Chapter 10

AO3 Link Chapter [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9]

Chapter 10: Hx & Dx

As was becoming typical, Oksana appeared in Eve’s office on an early Monday afternoon and plopped herself down in the extra chair next to Eve’s desk.

“Well, hello there,” Eve said without looking away from her screen.

“What are you doing?” Oksana asked without preamble. “It looks boring. I can suggest something better.”

Eve looked sideways at her. “I’m sure you can, but I have to finish this lecture.”

Oksana leaned on the arm of Eve’s chair so she could read the powerpoint slides on Eve’s computer.

“Hmm. Antisocial personality disorder. Characteristics of psychopathy. Interesting.”

“Yes.”

“You know a lot about that, don’t you? It was your speciality at MI6.”

“Yes, it was. Did I tell you that? I didn’t think I did.”

“No...I googled you.”

That earned her Eve’s attention.

“You did? When?”

“After I watched your lecture. I was curious. The videos of you from that big case years ago said that you were a profiler and you specialized in serial killers with psychopathic traits.”

“Yeah, I did.”

Oksana nodded and leaned back in her chair with her hands behind her head. She didn’t say anything for a while, and Eve returned to her typing. Then she rather suddenly broke the silence.

“You know I was diagnosed with that.” She said it completely casually, as if she was simply commenting on the weather.

“What?” Eve stopped typing and swiveled her chair to look at Oksana.

“Well, not exactly, you generally can’t give that diagnosis to a child. It was implied though, I was given the preliminary child versions of that diagnosis, at least. The psychologist in primary school diagnosed me with Oppositional Defiant Disorder when I was six. I overheard them talking to my parents and went and looked it up in the library. And then after my parents died, before I was sent to boarding school, I got assessed again. They never said anything to me but I stole my file and in there it said I had Conduct Disorder. Apparently, they were supposed to keep a close eye on me. Well, and then when I left the firm - or, more accurately, was ‘encouraged’ to retire - there was some sort of implication that they thought something was...wrong with me in that regard. I don’t really know why they would care though. I think it was useful for what they were trying to do there.”

Oksana fell silent and stared at Eve, waiting for her reaction.

“But...that doesn’t make sense. You’re not like that.”

Oksana smiled just a bit and there was something achingly heavy about it. Tired, maybe even a bit sad. “Am I really not though, Eve? You’ve never thought that I was...at least a little bit off? You've never jokingly told me not to be an ass, but really meant it and had no comprehension of how I could be that much of a jerk, how I could have so little empathy for other people? Something I did never creeped you out just a little bit?”

Eve glanced away. There had been moments. Occasional ones, brief flashes where Oksana threw her off. But they were always over so soon and then Oksana would be back to being funny and charming and wonderful. Eve had never been concerned. Not really. She did remember when she’d first met Oksana and there had been something unsettling about her. Something small and indescribable, something about her eyes or her expression. But it, too, had been gone in a moment and Eve had forgotten it until the topic brought it back into the light.

Oksana spoke again, her voice softer, “You called me manipulative, that time you yelled at me.”

“I didn’t mean it.” Eve forced herself to look at Oksana, trying to show her that she was telling the truth.

Oksana briefly closed her eyes, pressed her lips together, and shook her head head. “I think you did.”

When she looked at Eve again her stare was penetrating. She was clearly trying hard to maintain a cool expression, holding strong to a lighthearted half-smile. But it looked fake and it wasn’t hard to notice the slight tremble to her lips or the pained look lingering behind her cool demeanor.

Eve didn’t respond, so Oksana continued, “And you’re right. I am manipulative. I manipulate people on purpose and I’m okay with that, Eve. That’s what made me especially angry. That you were right, at least about that. And that you said it like it was such a terrible thing.”

Eve studied her, trying and failing to read her. “Is that...is that what this is? You and I? You’re just manipulating me and I don’t even realize it?”

Oksana looked taken aback and a little horrified. “No. No, Eve, not at all. If that’s what I was doing, we would have slept together the first night we met. I wanted you to genuinely like me, by yourself.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean?”

“You said you don’t think there’s anything wrong with manipulating people, so why not do it to me?”

Oksana shrugged and her eyes drifted across the room. She looked like she was having a hard time coming up with an answer. “I don’t think it’s wrong to use your skills to work people in order to get what you want. But it’s fake and I know it’s fake. It’s not as fun. I like when you come to me, when you beg me, when you tell me what you want. It wouldn’t be the same if I’d led you to those things. I like...attention. Real attention.”

Eve didn’t respond. She wasn’t sure what to say. Oksana leaned forward, looking at her in earnest.

“Do you believe that, Eve?”

Eve studied her face. “Yes,” she said finally. And she did believe it. Oksana nodded, clearly satisfied. Eve continued, “But that’s not the whole story. No one would have diagnosed you with those things just because you were a manipulative kid. And you’re not running around committing violent crimes and getting yourself involved in scandals and other trouble. Unless there’s a lot that I don’t know about.”

Oksana sighed. “No. Not now. I’ve come a long way, I’ve learned to control myself. But when I was younger...yeah, I behaved like that. I killed cats as a child, that’s cliche isn't it? I didn’t skin them, though, I dissected them. I liked black ones especially, something about the drama of it. I was a total kleptomaniac, I stole anything and everything I could get my hands on it. I was really good at it. I had all sorts of nice clothes and fancy jewelry as a teenager and lots of stupid, little toys when I was younger. Also snatched all my classmates pocket money and rock collections and whatever else they had in their pockets. I had a whole collection of wallets, for no good reason, just to have them and prove that I could.”

Oksana stopped and waited for Eve to say something, but Eve was busy processing and had no response, so eventually Oksana just continued. “I beat up kids on the playground, whenever someone said something nasty to me or was just annoying or whatever. I had a friend back then, or at least something close to a friend, and a kid broke this porcelain doll she had. So I broke his nose. No one really talked to me after that, including her. Supposedly they were scared of me. After my parents died, I set a house in town on fire. They never proved it was me, but I think everyone suspected. They sent me to the boarding school after that.”

Eve reacted to that, giving Oksana an only somewhat constrained look of horror.

Oksana immediately defended herself. “No one died! It was an old, empty house. They were about to tear it down, anyway. I really probably did them a favor.”

Eve stared at her and realized it was exactly one of the moments Oksana had been talking about, where she couldn’t entirely comprehend how Oksana could have just said what she said and truly believed it. But she really seemed to think there was nothing wrong with her statement.

“I...think they would disagree,” Eve told her. It was the only thing she could think to say.

Oksana shrugged. “Yes, they seemed to.”

Silence hung heavy in the air. Ultimately, it was Eve who broke the tension.

“But you said it’s not like that anymore?”

“No, not since boarding school.”

“What changed?”

“I wanted...some semblance of normality. I wanted what other people had. Well, something like it. I wanted more exciting than most people, but something close to normal. And I realized that if I wanted that I had to...act normal. Or at least try to.”

“And you just did? Overnight?”

“Kind of. For the big stuff, pretty much. It took a while to shake the stealing and anger outbursts. But basically, yeah. And I know I’m still manipulative, like I told you. But that’s fine.” Eve nodded. “You know, nothing in my head changed, though. I still think like that. I still…want those things. I just don’t act on them. I behave myself.”

Eve studied her fingernails. “Everyone has dark thoughts sometimes.”

Eve had dark thoughts sometimes.

“I suppose so”

“It’s your actions that matter.”

“I’d like to think that.”

The silence fell again and Eve plucked at a hangnail. It was an avalanche of information and she didn’t even know where to begin in regards to dealing with it.

“I...don’t really know why I’m telling you this, you’ll probably be done with me after hearing it.”

Eve jerked her head up to look at Oksana. “I have no desire to be done with you.”

Oksana met Eve’s gaze and allowed a small smile to form on her lips. “Are you sure about that? Because it would probably be the smart thing, you know.”

Eve shrugged her shoulders. “Well, you haven’t tried to kill me yet. You have taken a knife to me, but I liked that so if that’s a symptom of this then I guess I'll just have to be cool with it.”

Oksana grinned. “You know that it’s probably also evidence that you’re a bit fucked up yourself, right?”

Eve sighed. “Yes, probably.”

Oksana got up and came over to Eve’s seat, placing her hands on the armrests and leaning over her to whisper in her ear. “Do you want me to do it again?”

Eve’s pulse sped up instantly.

“Yes.” The answer didn’t take a second thought.

Oksana’s breath ghosted her neck, sending goosebumps across Eve’s skin.

“Hmm, well, unfortunately you’ll have to wait. But I’ll remember to bring something sharp in the future.”

And then, before Eve could respond, Oksana pushed herself away and headed for the door. She winked at Eve over her shoulder and left. Eve sat there in silence, far too flustered to even think about returning to her work.

————

Sitting in bed later that night, Eve drummed her fingers against her laptop and mulled things over in her mind. Eventually she opened up a browser tab and logged into the university’s journal article database. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard for a moment and then she typed in “functional psychopathy”. The search turned up 4,689 results.

The majority of them were in regards to functional neuroimaging of people with antisocial personality disorder or varying levels of psychopathic traits, but Eve eventually found one that got at what she was looking for: “Challenging the ‘urban myth’ of psychopathy untreatability”. She bit her tongue and opened it.

She skimmed the beginning and it told her much of what she already knew from her past work. The majority of the literature to date showed that there was no effective treatment. People with psychopathic traits, especially those that appeared in early childhood, did not get “better”, they did not improve. If anything, they got worse with time.

But the article was different than most of what she had read in the past. It challenged the validity of the old research and, not only that, it suggested that some sort of improvement could occur. Of course, it was reviewing a specific, very intensive treatment program. Oksana had done nothing of the sort, so Eve couldn’t really make a comparison - and maybe she was being naive to do so. But the description of the techniques used in the program had a striking resemblance to what Oksana had told her about the work she’d done to push herself in the direction of normalcy. At no point did the program ever try to change the thought processes of the people in the study; rather they simply taught them ways to control and change their behavior.

It was what Oksana had claimed she had successfully done. And, at least in that study, there was evidence that it was something that worked.

Eve saved the article and pushed her laptop to the side. She rolled over, wrapped her arms around her pillow, and closed her eyes. She fell asleep without turning off the lights and slept fitfully through the night, dreaming of Oksana holding a knife to her throat.

[purge-that-urge-rhackathon]

LET ME LOVE YOU!! ♡ ♡ XOXO

ヽ(；▽；)ノ First off, I just wanna SUPER thank from the bottom of my heart YET AGAIN for the kofis and all that good shit T_T A small handful of ya’ll paid for literally half my root canal, i want you to know, and that makes the overall burden so much smaller and like gives me the wiggle room to ‘make this work’ so to speak, like, the ultimate despair in trying to get my debt and life under control wasn’t for naught and i can work with this and just THANK YOU. You’ve given me financial relief AND actual hope over getting my life in order even with an emergency like this bullshit, and that wouldn’t be possible without you guys and I’m so so grateful and I know I keep just repeating the same words but i really wanna get home how much genuine gratitude i have, thank you SO much. You guys have got the biggest, most generous hearts and just HOLY FUCK (especially the morning of the procedure btw... you know who you are and what you did <3<3).

I was able to get the cash discount for the root canal too! It ultimately put the money back in my pocket to actually pay them with, and directly because of you guys, the crown I need afterwards isn’t going to fuck me now with the overall expenses reduced because of that discount (again, directly because of you; i wasn’t able to do that without) and like, I can manage all of this now if I’m really really careful financially, which like i was ready to throw the towel in before on life at this point, so thank you AGAIN you don’t know how far beyond just like a bill payment this is. It’s actually having a positive snowball effect on my overall life like this is HUGE so thank you (ˊ̥̥̥̥̥ ³ ˋ̥̥̥̥̥) ♡

^me on my way after procedure to action-hug the FUCK out of you sweethearts xD

AAAAND the update on the actual procedure itself is under the cut (i dont think im graphic but if you dont like needles maybe dont read haha). They couldn’t get me numb, so i’m going back monday morning x_x

So I only got ‘half’ the root canal done yesterday. She reached the maximum amount of anesthetic she’d give me and still could NOT get me numb. The worst part isn’t the crying in the chair from the panic attack from the intense pain, or even the pain itself, but the fact that I think she thinks that this is all anxiety-related (i disclosed my panic disorder and how nervous i was over the procedure within my forms, and during it she asked several times ‘oh did it scare you?’ cuz you know... vibrations and stuff, which can be scary, and i was like NO i can FEEL the drill on the fucking PULP CHAMBER i am in PAIN) and i think she thinks everything is me being scared due to my panic disorder? Which is stupid because i actually like shots (i know weird af hahaha) and im not scared of the drill (i was actually hella excited to get the root canal if only because it would mean an end to the very-real pain i’m in). My anxiety over this is also founded in very-real concern of the fact that my own dentist could not get this tooth numb before, and she couldn’t either.

So i go back monday morning, i am TERRIFIED she won’t be able to get me numb again and/or will try to drill me ‘fast’ because we had a window of like 2 minutes before it wore off on me and im scared to death about going back i’ve been having panic attacks since yesterday over it. Like, you know how you lay back in the dentist’s chair when they’re working, right? well i had a KNEE up at one point, an arm out to try and signal and get her attention, and i jerked hard three times before she finally let up (like REALLY? are you gonna keep drilling when the patient is clearly in distress??) SOooo i have some serious trepidation about going back, and my dad is gonna take me back next time and drive me, and i’m just terrified they aren’t going to take me seriously and like i feel i NEVER should have disclosed my panic disorder to them because now they think im over reacting or some shit when this is founded in the pain of feeling everything.

So. That really sucks. I called my dentist and cried over the phone about it too, so hopefully they’ll talk idk. The endodontist prescribed halcion and a valium for the night before (wtf this is NOT anxiety related, its anesthetic-immunity related) so i also called their office to say HEY im not anxious, this is pain-related, i CANNOT get numb.

So like, i’ll keep everyone updated on the horror show of fuckery that is my mouth T_T i’m not even done with my antibiotics yet and she said i had what they called a ‘hot tooth’ >:| like YEAH my entire fucking jaw and face and everything is in PAIN. This is some 7th cranial nerve shit I felt every shot after being ‘numbed’. She was able to break through the enamel to get to the pulp chamber and inject anesthetic directly into the tooth (THAT hurt like a goddamn bitch and didn’t numb either) and then inject medicine into the tooth (that supposedly dissolves flesh/pulp? idk i dont fully recall, i was in the grips of a panic attack as she was telling me) and put a temporary filling in so like, i am PRAYING it goes fine on monday. If she reaches the max dose again and can’t get me numb then im just gonna go to fucking pieces again. *knock on wood* let’s hope it doesnt happen.

The crappiest thing about this is, this is not my first root canal, and every other time it’s been pleasant and not at all an awful experience and just fine, and thinking about that too i kind of cry again because i have to go back and subject myself to the pain again and let me tell you, when you’re hurt somewhere that you can’t touch-- like hitting your pinky toe on an edge or hitting your funny bone, like that HURTS but you can still touch it if you want- but with this, all you can do is shake because the pain is so bad you’ve never experienced such an unbearable feeling before and you can’t even cry its so intense. So yeah, i’m not looking forward to that again, and the thrashing around i did in the chair was BEYOND minimal for what i was experiencing (because i have a very high pain tolerance and im also trying to be a ‘good’ patient’) soooo Pray. For. Mojo.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #179

“if i showed you my soul, would you cover your eyes?”

If you’re dating someone, how long has it been? One year, one month. If you’re a girl, have you ever had the urge shave your hair? Um, no. How hot do summers for you get? Highest has been like 110 or so. Do you live by a forest? No. Is there a real fireplace in your house? No. What do you prefer: Small cars, hybrids, trucks or SUVs? Normal cars? What’s the scariest book you’ve ever read? No book's ever scared me. Do your parents drink? No. Do you have any pet fish? No. What’s your favorite seafood to eat? I just like shrimp. What does your best friend love that you hate? Seafood (except what is mentioned above). Have you ever seen The Twilight Zone? A few at school, but I didn't really pay attention. Name the creepiest horror movie character for you: Ghostface. Are you a person that’s scared of things like bugs, spiders, mice and rats? Only some bugs and spiders. What do you believe in more: Ghosts or demons? Ghosts. Is it ever okay for a woman to ask out a man? Actually fuck off. Do people confide in you? Sometimes. Actually very flattering that most people I do care/have cared about tend(ed) to. Ever been around someone who makes you feel stupid? My psychiatrist makes me feel like a caveman and Girt is super smart, but neither intentionally do it. What do you call your grandparents? Grammy and Grampa. Have you ever cried while reading a book? Yup. How many college degrees do you want? At least two. Do you like animals? LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE!!!!!!!!!!!! I don't know if I could be friends with someone who didn't. What do you wear to sleep? Pj pants and a tank. Do you have anyone who is a surrogate parent/sibling to you? No. Ever fallen asleep sitting up? Maybe? How well do you know the people you live with? I have a super strong connection w/ my mom, so guess. Do you have any heroes? Mark, my mom, the Holly Hill staff, Sara, Rhett and Link. Do you take your time when making an important decision? Always, almost. But if I'm angry or manically depressed, I'm impulsive as hell. Do you enjoy comedy shows? Yeah. Do you own any jerseys? No. Do you have a song stuck in your head? "Voices" by Motionless In White, which I'm binging. Is there anything worrying you right now? Not actively. Do you believe life is what you make it? In some ways, but there are many extreme situations  that you can't really change, and no light can be made of them. Travel anywhere, where would it be? At this very instant... idk. I don't want to travel 'til I have a new camera. Meet anyone, who would it be? do you???????????? know me?????????????????????????????? Bring anyone dead back to life, who would it be? Oh boy, idk. Freddie Mercury, maybe? Thought of him as as I answer this question, it's his death anniversary. Get anything for free for the rest of your life what would it be? Ummmm I don't drive yet, but gasoline sounds like the best answer here. Change one thing about your life, what would it be? Not being long-distance with Sara. Have any superpower what would it be? Be a druid. Eliminate one of your human needs which would you get rid of? I don't wanna go to the bathroom weeps I can't drink anything without having to pee five minutes later. Change one thing about your physical appearance what would it be? Be a slim goddess with an a s s leave me and my dreams alone. Change one of your personality traits which would you choose? Assuming the worst. Be talented at anything instantly what would you choose? Social interaction. Forget one event in your life which would you choose? The night of the breakup. That night still feels surreal; it literally felt like the apocalypse. Nooo words do what I felt even a quarter of justice. Change one law in your country, which would you change? Alter the second amendment to some degree. What was the last thing that made you feel good? Mom was super proud of me for doing a lot of the dishes. I absolutely haaaate doing it. Do you have an annoying neighbor? Not really. Do you get exercise daily? No. What school subject do/did you hate the most? Math. How do you feel about God? The Christian one, I'm assuming you mean? I wouldn't be surprised if someone assumed me a Satanist if I answered this without detail. What is one thing you would hate about living in the era before yours? Lack of technology weeps. Which historical era interests you the most? Ehhhh '80s? Are you disabled in any way? No. Would you rather live in an apartment or a house? HOUSE. Who do you wish you were still friends with? Megan, Hannia, Miranda... and I guess that's it if you only mean those my bond was officially cut with, not those I just drifted from. Do you prefer Small Business Saturday, Black Friday, or Cyber Monday? HUNNY I'm all about Cyber Monday. Who do you care about the most? In some contexts myself, but in others, Sara. What country do you think produces the best musical artists? England, I suppose? What is a song that always makes you happy? No song absolutely without fail is capable of that. Would you be able to choose between your mom and dad? Maybe. It'd be ridiculously difficult. Do you have the same political views as your parents? Some. Are you closer to your mom or dad’s family? Mom's, but I only recall seeing Dad's once. How old are the last two people you kissed? 20, and... he's 22 or 23? Who was the last person to text you before you went to bed last night? Sara. When was the last time you had a conversation with an ex? Aaron, not since high school. Juan, forever ago. Jason, well over a year ago. Tyler, sometime last year. Girt, maybe a few weeks back. Do you cry easily? My eyelids are onion skin. Ever cried while you were on the phone with the last person you kissed? Over Skype. Your parents said they were moving, what would your reaction be? I don't live with Dad, so it wouldn't affect me. If Mom said that, I'd be pretty meh, mostly because I don't want to pack up my room and put all this shit back up. Especially when I don't plan on living here for many more years, so I'd just have to do it again. Do you have any text messages that you don’t want other people to read? Uhhh I don't think? I mean there's some I'd prefer to stay completely between me and the recipient, but I wouldn't be humiliated or something. Is it hard for you to get over someone? APPARENTLY. Your last kiss, on a bed or standing? Standing. Have you ever dated someone with longer hair than yours? Yeah. Which room in your house tends to be the coldest in the winter time? The laundry room. It's the first room from the back door. Would you rather take a cruise ship or airplane to get to your destination? Plane. Do you like winter? Yes. Are you trying to grow out your hair? That's not in my plans for the foreseeable future. Which friend are you most similar to? Sara. Do you have the right time set on your microwave? Yeah. Do you have a flat screen TV or just a regular box? Flat screen. Do you know how to change the oil in your car? No. Do you like Tootsie Rolls? I'll eat one in a tootsie pop, but no, I don't really enjoy them. What are you favorite kind of chips? Hot Cheetos. Have you taken any medicine recently? For what? Yeah, usual psychiatric prescriptions, pain relievers, and some allergy medicine. Does the water in your shower take a long time to get warm? Not really. Do you get your eyebrows waxed? Not anymore. Just don't see the point. Has anyone given you flowers recently? No. Do you like to go fishing? Yeah, but I always gently put the fish back. Has anyone you know been arrested recently? No. Do you have more than 1 email address? Yeah, but only because of Google's intrusive takeover shit. Do you think you will have the same job 2 years from now? N/A Is there someplace you would rather be right now? Man, I wanna be at Sara's super badly. Have you ever sang in front of a crowd? Yeah, but not alone. What kind of bathing suit do you wear? A black onesie with a skirt thing. Do you like your eyes? I suppose. Do you think you are pretty? I'd find myself okay if I was smaller. Who was the last person you talked to in person? Mom. Do you want kids? NO. Tell me what your backpack looks like: I miss my Ouija board one. :'<  Even had a planchette zipper. I need to get a new one for school. Has someone you were dating ever cheated on you? No. Have you ever cheated? I never could. What’s the cutest thing someone’s ever done for you? I'm not sure. Has anyone a grade above you ever had a crush on you? A few above. Describe the weirdest car you’ve ever seen. Who knows. Are you any good at improv? Never tried, never will, holy shit. I know I'd be a nightmare and feel cripplingly awkward. What’s the largest animal you’ve ever had as a pet? Either our late boxer mix Cali or this lab/something ginormous named Harley, but we didn't have him as an adult so I can't really remember. When did you last stay in a hotel, and where? Not since leaving for a dance competition at the beach yeeeaaars ago. Do you own any kind of helmet? No. Out of everything currently in your refrigerator, what food or drink is your favorite? I don't want to go refresh my memory. But I know we have a nachos Lunchable, and that's The Good Shit. Which do you prefer: iPhones, Android, Blackberries, or something else? iPhones. Do you ever put fruit on your cereal? No, it's pretty gross imo. Have you ever bought a YouTuber’s merch? Not yet. But when I can purchase my own shit, I shall be DECKED OUT, my friends. Do you think oatmeal tastes better when made with water or milk? Oh, absolutely milk. What kind of milk do you usually use? I think Ma normally gets 2%? Who was the last person who was rude to you? Mom, probably? Would you ever let the barista at Starbucks make a random drink for you? No. Have you ever used a fake name at Starbucks? Never been, as I don't drink coffee. Have you ever left a note in a library book? Don't believe so. Do you live in a house, condo, apartment, or dorm? House. Do you have a birthmark? If yes, what color is it? Yes; bit tanner than my normal skin. Would you ever film a YouTube video with no make-up on and messy hair? Prolly not 'cuz I'm a self-conscious fuck. What is the most comfortable type of pants, in your opinion? Men's pj pants. Have you ever had a cat? Dozens over the course of my life. Have you ever had a dog? Yeah, a handful. Have you ever any other kind of animal? Ball pythons, Chinese water dragon, iguana, rats, gerbils, guinea pigs, hamsters... Have you ever had a pet rock? lul yes. Do you own a bobblehead? No. Do you love someone who treats you like a piece of shit? Ha, fuck that. What’s your favorite DIY Halloween costume that you’ve seen? I dunno, seen so many!! What is your favorite gender-neutral name? I have quite a few. Jamie, Dakota, Aiden, etc. etc. Do you want to give your kids common names or unique names? IF I was to have kids, there's no way they'd have a very common name. What is your favorite type of braid? I had to look them up lmao. Maybe a curled plait? What is your favorite tattoo that you’ve seen? WHAT A QUESTION FOR ME. Idk!! But I like hyperrealistic ones. What is something you have too many of? Stuffed animals I refuse to give away lmao. What collection are you thinking of starting? Nothing new. Well, I'd love SotC merchandise, but that is some expeeeensive shit. Do you collect anything now? If so, what? Meerkat stuff and Silent Hill memorabilia. What are five of your favorite stores at the mall? All I care about is Hot Topic and Spencer's, but rue21 sometimes has some nice graphic tees. What is one thing you and your mom NEVER agree on? The "Bentley needs to go" situation. Have you ever snuck food into a movie theater? Uh yeah, the rule's stupid, b it's even more ridiculous to be willing to pay such prices for these things. The only thing I get myself is popcorn. What time zone are you in? EST. Honestly, have you ever trespassed? Where? Maybe? I think as a kid? Can you count to 10 in any other language? Which one(s)? German. Maybe Spanish? Do you have a favorite cousin? Who is it? No. Do either of your parents have tattoos? No. Mom wants at least one relating to us kids, though. Which was better: freeze tag or hide & go seek? Hide and seek. Have you ever taken a family portrait? Not a big one/with the extended fam. What pizza place do you usually order from? Domino's. For your birthday do people buy you a cake or bake you one? Buy. Do you bite on straws, lollipop handles, or ice cream sticks? No, gross to me. In what type of area was your first sexual encounter? A bedroom. What do you occupy your time with on flights? Listening to my iPod and looking out the window. When was your last major illness? What was it? Uhhhh... maybe that outrageous ear infection. Your favorite adult as a child? (and not your parents, if they were your favorite) Ummm. Probably Uncle Donny (not my actual uncle, we just called him that). He is/was the husband of our babysitter. Be nice to know how he's doing or if he's even still alive. Most embarrassing moment from your elementary school years? Remember that Antz story? That. Because judgment/rejection. :^) Most embarrassing moment from your middle school years? Uhhhh idk. I'm sure there's something. Most embarrassing moment from your high school years? So I had this anxious/fidgeting habit of pulling my eyebrow hairs out. And it got to a point I went quite a while with almost none and it was suuuuper noticeable. Have you ever climbed a tree more than twenty feet off the ground? No. Did you like swinging as a child? Do you still get excited when you see a swing set? YEAH, and I'm neutral now. Have you ever watched any major sporting event drunk? No. What’s the most delicious food you’ve ever eaten in your life? This chicken that a family friend had at her wedding had to be like, gourmet. It was fucking delicious. Then spicy shrimp fritas from OG are some GOOD SHIT, I love not-too-crispy bacon, uhhhh. Do you pick at scabs? YEAH. What was your favorite part of prom? Taking the pictures. Have you ever performed CPR on anyone? No. Did you ever stutter, or have a hard time pronouncing? I stutter, but it's from anxiety. How many glasses of water, a day, do you drink on average? One-1 1/2. Do you enjoy erotic stories? If so, do you read them or write them? NO, they're so uncomfortable. Which accent/dialect sounds perfect to you? British. Which accent/dialect sounds horrible to you? I hate southern, yet here I am in the South. Which language sounds perfect to you? Latin. Which language sounds horrible to you? Idk off the top of my head. Do you have a favorite gaming platform? I'm a PS2 stan. What do you think is the most adorable thing in the whole world? Meerkat pups. What’s the most horrible thing in the whole world? Just one? Do you ever have to censor the things you say around certain people? Yes. Is there a cafe you go to regularly and the staff knows your “usual”? No. If your boy/girlfriend wanted to have a sex change, would you support them? No. *opens the gate for the onslaught of hate* Well, I suppose I should specify I wouldn't suddenly hate or even dislike them, I just wouldn't stay with them as a couple. Do you like the movies by Tim Burton? YEAH!!!! His style is everything. What do you think of cannibals? Ew. Did you ever have a Razor scooter? Yeah. What’s something other people think about you that you don’t agree with? That I'm not godawful with kids when I totally am. How do you deal with criticism? I'm probably going to feel self-conscious and rejected to some degree no matter how gently you word it. Which national or global tragedy were you closest to and how did it affect you? 9/11, but I was too young to really understand. Do you think you’re smarter than the average person? If so, why? Definitely depends on the subject of focus. What was the last topic you did thorough research on? Why? Hmmm, thorough... I'm unsure. It may have been aaaall the way back when I was questioning something biblical. What was the last thing to upset you? Myself. What is an article of clothing you would never ever wear? A romper. Has anyone ever said that you’re delusional? If so, what for? No, but I absolutely and entirely was for a long, long time believing Jason still loved me somehow and that I could bring him back. Are you doing everything you can to make yourself happy? I sure as heeeeeeeeeell do a lot, but I could do more. What is a holiday, that is NOT celebrated in your country, that you would like to celebrate? *shrugs* Interesting question, I'm just not educated enough on this subject. Which nation’s culture (excl. your own) do you find the most interesting? Japan's. What is something you judge about other people? How they treat others. What do you consider to be childish? Being petty, own a child's temper, serious immaturity, etc.

[maevefiction]

Your Light in the Mist - Chapter 36

The call came four weeks into the Skull Island shoot, just prior to Tom’s short Thanksgiving break.

It was Monday, and I was out on the deck of the waterfront cottage we’d rented at the Paradise Bay Resort, about six miles or so from Kualoa Ranch. They’d been filming there in addition to other locations in the Waikane Valley, and though Legendary provided housing, Tom spent as many nights and weekends with me as possible. I’d passed on meeting any of the cast or team so far, wanting to allow him to work as he was accustomed, as well as preventing myself from interfering and/or becoming a distraction. That, of course, meant super late nights and group activities on some weekends, but I was so buried with Prosper work, Manageall development, fulfilling my maid of honor duties for Simon and starting to plan my own wedding that any time we spent apart went by incredibly quickly.

I reached for my phone where it rested to the left of my laptop and tablet, smiling when I unlocked it and saw the picture of Tom I’d chosen, him laughing, fresh out of the shower, wearing only a towel as he lunged toward me.

“Wow, Maude. Such professionalism.”

The cast, director and producers were scheduled for a lunch meeting today wherein they’d be discussing schedule and script changes, so I hadn’t expected him to call at all, though he normally did when they broke for lunch on set. My phone time read 3:17 PM as I tapped the answer button.

“Hey, you…how was the meeting?”

Silence greeted me, followed by the sound of a woman clearing her throat, then speaking.

“Maude?”

My brain raced through a hundred scenarios as to why a woman would be calling me from his phone, and I not only had to force myself to answer, but it took every ounce of rationality I possessed to not flip the fuck out.

“Yes…who’s this?”

“It’s Brie, Maude…I’m sorry to bother you, and oh god it’s totally weird that I’m calling from Tom’s phone, I know, but I was afraid if I used my own you wouldn’t pick up and I didn’t want to leave a message and risk not hearing from you right away…”

As I realized it was his co-star, a coldness began to work its way from my chest to my extremities. “Did something happen? Is he all right? Where is he?”

“We’re at the house, cast housing. He’s not hurt, sorry, damn, I knew I’d scare the heck out of you no matter how I tried to explain it…anyway, we had lunch at a restaurant and, well, as it turns out the special was grilled chicken Caesar salad and like three-quarters of us had it and whoever ate it now has food poisoning. There’s a doctor coming in just to check on everyone, and Tom’s in pretty bad shape and you’re close by so I figured you might want to come here because there’s no way he can travel right now. He didn’t want anyone to call you but…”

Able to breathe again, I silently thanked the universe for keeping him at least relatively safe. Food poisoning. Okay. I could handle that. Probably. “Of course he didn’t. Brie, thank you, so much. Do you know the address of the house? I have no clue where it is, but I’m guessing I can be there in like twenty minutes or so.”

She gave me the details, and I mapped the route on my phone straight away, then set to packing up some spare clothing for both of us, as well as some water, a twelve pack of Coke, and some straws. I had no idea what to expect, as I’d managed to live on the planet for nearly four decades without experiencing the true horror of food borne illness, other than some occasional diarrhea. Which, frankly, was fucking bad enough. But I’d had the stomach flu enough times to know that what he was currently enduring in all likelihood sucked giant monkey balls. Kong-sized, even.

Traffic was light, which both surprised me and made me realize that I didn’t leave the cottage very often because driving the Jeep was, like, challenging. It was yet another Wrangler, but this time bright yellow. Which I didn’t care for, but the discount at the rental company was awesome and that was all they’d had left. I was, of course, too lazy to check back and change it out for another one…and also aware that such a thing was just shy of totally petty.

As I pulled into the driveway I whistled…it was a huge, beautiful, modern house with SO many windows, and like the beach rental we’d stayed in during the summer, I could see clear through to the ocean. I parked off to the side as to not block anyone in, then got out, grabbed my bag and headed for the door. An adorable woman with dirty blonde hair flung it open, waving.

“Hi, Maude. That was fast. I’m so glad you came…he’s a mess. And so is everyone else. Just him and four other guys here, Tom has his own suite.” She smiled and held out her hand. “So happy to finally meet you, though I’m sorry it’s under such…erm, unpleasant circumstances.”

I accepted her hand shook it briefly. “Happy to meet you too, and thanks again for reaching out.”

“Not a problem. Follow me, I’ll take you to his room.”

The faint scent of vomit assaulted my nostrils as we walked across the tilted open-concept living and kitchen area, then up a flight of steps to our left, the planks made of native wood, the rest stainless steel and glass. She knocked on the first white door to our right, and when there was no answer she turned to me, whispering.

“Maybe he’s in the bathroom…you should probably just go on inside.”

Left brow rising, I whispered as well. “Does he know I’m coming?”

She shook her head, smiling timidly. “No. Sorry. I didn’t…”

I nodded, right hand up, palm extended toward her. “I understand. Totally cool. Far better that I just appear so he doesn’t waste his energy arguing.”

“Yeah, that’s how I felt about it. Oh, his phone…” She pulled it out of her back pocket and passed it to me. “I snagged it last time I knocked and got no answer. Man, I feel really bad for all of them…and I’m really, really glad I had a vegan wrap. Good luck, Maude. I’m going to head out as soon as the doctor gets here, which should be soon. I hope. The smell is making me feel…not so good.”

“It’s…pungent, that’s for sure. Thanks again for calling me, Brie.”

“You’re very welcome.” She gave me a quick squeeze, then headed back downstairs as I turned the knob and opened the door to Tom’s room. The floors were white tile, the walls a pale blue, with a gorgeous view of the ocean out the floor to ceiling windows…and it smelled like I’d stepped into a parmesan cheese factory, which is what puke had always smelled like to me. Mixed in for fun was and acrid sweat and other unmentionables. The furniture was native wood, and the light-blue bedding was all askew…with no sign of Tom. To the right of the bed was another door, and as I approached I heard retching.

For several minutes, I remained silent, waiting for a break in his torment, and when it finally came I knocked gently and spoke his name.

“Tom?”

A groan, followed by another retch, then a reply. His voice was raspy, weak, and I immediately wanted to barge in to…to do…something, anything.

“Maude? Is that…is that you? Or am I hallucinating? Oh god. Somebody make it stop.” More retching, and I swung the door inward. He was completely naked on the bowl with a small bucket, most likely the bathroom garbage can, resting on his knees. His face was ashen, hair flattened with sweat, and the dark circles under his eyes made me flinch when he looked up at me. I walked to his side, placing the back of my hand on his forehead…he was blazing hot, and shivering wildly. His hand reached up, shakily grabbing my wrist. “Is it you? Are you real?”

Nodding, I bent to kiss his forehead. “It’s me. I’m real. What can I do to help you, babe?”

His teeth had begun to chatter. “I…I don’t know…every time I go back to the bed, I have to get up again and I’m so tired but I can’t sleep and I’m sorry that you’re seeing me like this and that you had to come here…” A tear ran down his left cheek and I brushed it away with my thumb.

“Thomas William Hiddleston, there is no other place I would rather be right now. Okay, that might not be entirely truthful. How about there’s no one I’d rather be WITH…”

He smiled wanly, then retched again, eyes glassy when he finished and turned them up to me. “Sorry. I’m just dry heaving at this point…there’s nothing left to come out. Not at this end anyway. Can you…will you step out for a minute?”

I exited, closed the door behind me, and walked over to the windows to allow him as much privacy as possible, waiting until the flushing stopped before going back in. He’d put the bucket on the floor next to him, and was holding on to the sink vanity to his right, attempting to rise. I slipped one arm around his waist.

“Want to go lie down?” He nodded slowly. “Okay. Lean on me. Let’s get you there.”

Our height difference was an obstacle, but we managed to reach the bed without me letting him fall to the floor. He was so feeble it was frightening. I tucked him in, blankets up around his chin, then sat beside him on the mattress, legs crossed in front of me, knees touching his ribs, my sandals cast off onto the tile haphazardly.

Another tiny smile appeared on his so-very-pale face. “Thank you. I love you.”

“I love you too. I’m sorry you feel like…like…”

The smile widened. “Death?”

I took his hand in mine and began rubbing his wrist with my thumb. “That bad, eh?”

“Well, maybe more like wishing for death, I guess.” He reached across and placed his other hand on my bare knee. “How did you know to come?”

“Brie called me.”

He frowned. “I didn’t want anyone to call you.” The frown faded quickly. “But I’m very glad someone did.”

I smoothed back his hair. “Me too.” His eyelids fluttered. “Try and get some rest, babe. I’ll be right here if you need me, okay?”

“Oh. Kay.”

Twenty minutes later he woke up moaning and clutching his stomach, racing to the bathroom on his own, powered purely by adrenaline. I helped him back to bed once he’d finished, and every twenty minutes for the next two hours the cycle continued, leaving him more and more frustrated and exhausted. At around ten after six the doctor popped his head into the room after three short, sharp knocks. He was my height, chubby and bald, with dark framed glasses. After examining Tom thoroughly, his official diagnosis was indeed food poisoning, the likely culprit Staphylococcus aureus based on the time between ingestion and onset of symptoms. I was left with a 24/7 contact number, a six pack of adult Pedialyte, and a handout listing signs of dehydration. If any of said signs appeared, I was to take him to the nearest ER right away. The good news was that his symptoms would likely improve by morning, and introducing the Pedialyte whenever Tom expressed an interest was permissible since he was no longer vomiting. One teaspoon every fifteen minutes until he kept it down for at least an hour, then after that, it was fine to follow the instructions on the bottle. Nothing solid for at least another day, and then bland foods until the diarrhea ceased. I took a deep breath, hoping he’d just sail through, but still the worry threatened to overwhelm me and I knew I’d be obsessively checking him for dry mouth and heart palpitations. The sound of his voice pulled me back from the edge of an anxiety attack, and I put the pamphlet on the bed next to me as I felt his hand on my arm.

“Maude? Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. Totally fine. How are you doing?” Deflect and divert. Go Maude.

“You went rather pale there. This isn’t contagious, is it? I thought I heard…”

I shook my head. “Yep. The doctor said the type of food poisoning you have isn’t contagious.”

“But what if he’s wrong about the type? I don’t…”

Taking his hand in mine, I brought it up to my lips and kissed it. “You should SO not be worrying about me. You shouldn’t be worrying about ANYTHING. Okay?”

He shifted toward me, groaning with the effort. “You’re worried.”

The man knew me entirely too well. I sighed. “Sorry. Yes. I’m worried, mainly about my ability to take care of you properly. I’ve never done anything like this before, other than maybe an after party make sure no one chokes and dies session. And never for anyone I actually, you know, cared about. I apologize in advance for sucking.”

A soft snort escaped him, and I knew there was a suggestive comment on the tip of his tongue, but he dozed off again prior to making it.

Four hours later the stomach cramps had gotten so bad he was no longer able to sleep at all, instead shivering next to me while curled into a fetal position while I rubbed his back lightly. That was followed by another bout of throwing up….this go round consisting of a yellowish substance that the internet told me was likely bile. Afterward, the cramping subsided significantly and he managed to sleep for an entire hour, during which I cleaned the bathroom. It was a challenge to say the least, as I all I had was toilet paper, antibacterial soap, hand sanitizer and some towels, but by the time he woke up every surface had been scoured and most offensive odors eradicated. It was my hope that doing so would help with the nausea, but, truthfully, I had no fucking clue if anything I was doing helped at all.  

He’d called my name, and I approached the bed anticipating another bathroom assistance mission. Instead, he pointed at the Pedialyte.

“I’m thirsty…may I have some of that, please?”

My head tilted to the right, seemingly of its own volition. “Do you need me to walk you to the bathroom first?”

“I don’t think so, no. But I am very, very thirsty.”

Perhaps a corner had been turned. I removed one of the bottles from the shrink wrap, then set it back down on the nightstand when realized I didn’t have a teaspoon.

“Okay. I need to find a teaspoon. The kitchen here’s fully equipped, right?” He nodded, and I kissed his forehead. “Be right back.”

I walked down the steps, turned around and headed for the kitchen. The cabinets were white with glass inserts, stainless hardware and quartz countertops. The silverware was in the top drawer of the island, and I grabbed two teaspoons and washed them off in the sink, just in case. As I reached the steps to return to Tom’s room, the eerie quiet of the house totally creeped me out and I half jogged to my destination. When I opened the door, there he was, sitting up, bottle to his lips and head tilted back as he took three huge gulps right in front of me.

“THOMAS. WHAT. ARE. YOU. DOING?”

His eyes widened as he lowered the bottle to chest height. “Drinking. Should I not be drinking? I was thirsty. I’m sorry. Is it going to start all over again now? I don’t think I can take any more. I don’t…” His lower lip began to tremble, and I ran over to the bed, gently taking the bottle from him and setting in on the nightstand once again, then wrapped my arms around him.

“Honey, honey…it’s okay. I’m sorry for being loud. I didn’t mean to scare you. It’s okay. I’m sorry. I’ll be right here, you’re going to be fine. Please don’t cry.” Not only did I not want him to cry because it would make me feel like the biggest piece of shit to ever walk the planet, I didn’t want it to happen because it could impact his hydration level.

He nestled his head in the crook of my neck, and I straddled him, keeping all my weight on my knees. His skin was still warm, but not as blazing hot as it had been earlier. I lifted him off me slowly, hands pushing on his shoulders, and was surprised by his hand suddenly touching my face.

“Maude…I…love you. Tired. Lie with me?”

“I love you too. I’m not sure you should lie flat, though…” I climbed off him, and as soon as I let go of his shoulders he began to slump backward. “Can you sit up just a little longer? I have an idea.”

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs with his head in his hands. I figured if he remained upright there’d be less of a chance of him throwing up, which I was probably totally pulling out of my ass, but I was hopeful that some sort of instinct was responsible for my thought process. First I piled all the pillows near the wooden headboard on his side of the bed, then grabbed our phones from my pocket and set it on the nightstand. Lastly, I took my shorts off and positioned myself behind him, legs open, back against the pillows.

“Okay, all you need to is slide back. Can you do that?”

Instead, he turned himself to the side, legs flung over my right thigh with his ass centered between my own legs.  His right arm slipped around me and he again nestled his head in the crook of my neck, the side of his torso pressed up against my front, left hand resting on my right shoulder. As I began to embrace him, he pulled back and tugged at my shirt, his voice barely audible.

“Off. Skin.”

I removed it as requested, then wiggled out of my bra. He snuggled back into me, a small smile upon his lips. In that moment I was struck by the fragility of this life, how quickly things change, and how loving so deeply was both a blessing and a curse. A terror began to grip me as I realized that one of us would more than likely leave this earth before the other, and I just couldn’t imagine not wanting to die myself right then and there if I was the one left behind. He kissed my neck, and I reminded myself to try to be grateful for every moment. Every single one. All the time.

“Maude?”

I took a deep breath before replying, afraid I might burst into tears. “Yeah babe?”

“Sing to me?”

“Absolutely. Did you have anything particular in mind?”

“A song.”

After running through my repertoire, I decided on “You’ve Got the Love”, the Florence + the Machine version. Doing the whole thing acapella was going to be interesting, and never before had I wished that a magical harp and band would appear out of thin air to rescue me. The song had religious undertones and was essentially about God, but in my head I always un-capitalized everything to make it, you know, NOT. I took a deep breath and began, lowering my normal volume considerably, singing as if it were a lullaby.

Sometimes I feel like throwing my hands up in the air I know I can count on you Sometimes I feel like saying, "lord, I just don't care." But you've got the love I need to see me through Sometimes it seems that the going is just too rough And things go wrong no matter what I do Now and then it seems that life is just too much But you've got the love I need to see me through When food is gone you are my daily meal When friends are gone I know my saviour's love is real You know it's real You got the love You got the love You got the love You got the love You got the love You got the love Time after time I think, "Oh, lord, what's the use?" Time after time I think it's just no good 'Cause sooner or later in life, the things you love you lose But you got the love I need to see me through. You got the love You got the love You got the love You got the love You got the love You got the love Sometimes I feel like throwing my hands up in the air 'Cause I know I can count on you Sometimes I feel like saying, "lord, I just don't care." But you've got the love I need to see me through

Midway through I felt his breathing change and his body relax, and sure enough, by the time I’d finished he was out cold. I placed a gentle kiss on his temple, then eased back into the pillows and stared at the room around me…I’d neglected to turn out the light, but there was no way I was disturbing him to rectify the situation. The contents paled in comparison to what I held in my arms, so I opted to gaze upon that instead. He was so peaceful in sleep, and the way he was curled up against me made him appear almost childlike, delicate and ethereal. I counted freckles, still one of my favorite pastimes, and it was exceedingly difficult to not trace them with my fingers. The worry reared its ugly head again, and I pushed it back by telling myself that he’d kept down liquids for at least a little while, and that he seemed to be resting comfortably. He stirred briefly, and I wondered if perhaps he was chilly in the air-conditioned room, so I used my right arm to reach the blankets and pull them over him. That seemed to do the trick, and I must have dozed off at some point, because the next thing I knew it was morning.

“Maude?” A hand on my shoulder. The sound of someone drinking and swallowing. My eyelids felt as if they were made of lead, and opening them seemed an almost insurmountable task. I squinted, waiting for my contacts to clear enough for me to actually see, and once they did there he was, face inches from mine, still paler than normal, but his eyes had light in them once again, despite the huge dark circles beneath. His rear end was still between my legs, but he was sitting fully upright, the bottle of Pedialyte in his right hand three quarters of the way gone. He smiled, that adorable adoring smile. “Hi.”

“Hi yourself. How long have you been awake? How do you feel? Do you need help getting to the bathroom or anything…”

“About twenty minutes, like I might actually survive, and I’m not sure yet. What I do know is I’ve never been this thirsty in my entire life.” He finished off the bottle. “Can I have another, do you think?”

I placed the back of my hand on his forehead…no fever as far as I could tell. “Um, probably? But maybe you should wait a few minutes…”

He swung his legs and spun around so they were now resting over my left thigh, his arm reaching out to tug another Pedialyte from the shrink wrap. After grabbing it, he simply said ‘shit’ then leaned into me again.

“What’s up? Nausea? Are you dizzy? Do you feel like you’re going to pass out? Bathroom?”

His voice was mildly muffled, his breath on my neck. “Just a little light headed. Perhaps I moved too quickly.”

I snorted. “Ya think? Take it easy, Thomas. Let me do stuff, okay?”

“Okay. Thank you for the song last night.” He fumbled for my hand, gripping loosely when he found it. “I love that one. Hearing you sing it just for me was…and you taking care of me…I feel so...”

“Light headed and thirsty?”

He laughed softly as I helped ease him back into a sitting position. “Loved, actually. But that too.”

After another full bottle of Pedialyte, I escorted him to the bathroom so he could brush his teeth and then served as his official shower aide, shampooing, soaping and rinsing. He sat on the wall bench within the enclosure while I cleaned myself up, watching me and smiling when I met his gaze, but when I snuck a peek now and again the fact that he was far from well was glaringly apparent. Once dried and dressed, he stretched out on the bed, sighing heavily.

“Maude, I’m knackered. Completely. I don’t think I can be Captain Conrad today.”

I’d just latched my bra and turned to him, mouth hanging open. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I need to call Jordan. I hate to hold everyone up but I just…well, maybe some coffee will get me going?”

“Dude. No. Just because you seem to be done puking and stuff doesn’t mean you’re, like, BETTER. You need to rest, drink lots of clear liquids and maybe have some chicken broth. You’re not supposed to even eat solid food until tomorrow. Besides, it’s not like you’re the only one who’ll be MIA.” I retrieved his phone from the nightstand and handed it to him. “Here. Call.”

I finished dressing as they spoke, wrestling my hair into an elastic, coming in on the tail end of the conversation.

“Okay, man. Thanks. No, no, it’s cool. You can’t tell about these things. It was a really nice place. It happens. I’ll see you next Tuesday. Happy Thanksgiving. I will. Thanks again.” He ended the call and looked up at me. “Jordan decided to shut down early, so we’re done until next week. He also said to say thank you for coming down and helping out. And Happy Thanksgiving.” He grimaced.

“Babe?”

“Just gas, I think. Doesn’t seem possible that there’s anything else left.” A few minutes later, he exhaled with a whoosh. “Okay. Better. I don’t suppose I could convince you to drive me back to our cottage, my love?”

“No convincing required. I have to stop and pick up a few things for you, though…cool?”

He nodded, and I gathered our stuff, brought it out to the Jeep, then came back for him. The steps were rough, but once he was belted in the vehicle and able to rest again I determined the trip was possible. He smiled.

“Would you mind, you know…”

I laughed. “Going slow? Yeah, I guess. But just this once.”

He laughed in return, took my hand and kissed it, and I felt as if another corner had been turned.

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

We spent the rest of the day in bed, binge watching Mozart in the Jungle on my laptop. He’d told me he didn’t mind at all if I needed to work, to which I replied with a ‘fuck that shit, it can wait’. The Pedialyte stayed down, and around five PM I microwaved some chicken broth for him to try. That, as well as the two cans of Coke he guzzled down, in part, I suspected, because he was experiencing some serious caffeine withdrawals, stayed where they belonged too. After he crashed out at nine, I managed to get two Prosper client sites up and running before crawling in beside him at two AM.

Wednesday found me in bed alone, and I’d slept so soundly that I hadn’t felt him depart. I leapt up and half-jogged the eight steps into the bathroom, expecting to find him there, sick all over again…but it was empty. I padded back into the bedroom, opened the folding door and, just as I was about to freak out for the millionth time, spotted him sitting out on the deck, stuffing his face, clad only in a pair of shorts. I slipped into a robe as I walked to join him.

He grinned, chewing messily, cracker crumbs landing and sticking in his scruff. I grinned in return, taking note that his color had returned to normal and his dark circles were much improved.

“Well, someone’s feeling chipper today.”

He swallowed, then wiped his face with the back of his hand. “I’m not certain about chipper, but starving, yes.”

I moved closer, resting my left hand on the back of his neck as I inspected his feast. “Let’s see…chicken noodle soup, saltine crackers, toast – which had better be sans butter, by the way- three banana peels, and two Cokes. Gourmet breakfast if I’ve ever seen one.”

He slurped another spoonful of soup. “Lunch, actually.”

“Lunch? What time is it?”

“One or so.”

“Well, shit…sorry. Why didn’t you wake me up? Did you have breakfast? Are you okay? Any…issues?”

Motioning to the chair to his left, he snorted as I walked around the table and sat down. “No issues. All digestive system components seem to be fully functional. Breakfast was identical to lunch, and I devoured that at around six this morning. And, I didn’t wake you because I figured you might be in need of some solid rest. I’m tired still, but the ocean air seems to be doing wonders for me. I’ve just been sitting out here, watching, listening, thinking…sometimes not thinking, which is a rarity for me, but decidedly peaceful.”

It was my turn to snort. “Yeah, I think they call that ‘relaxing’. But it’s an activity I’m unfamiliar with so I can’t be, you know, SURE.” My gaze turned to the water in front of us and the mountains in the distance. “This is right here, every day, and I swear, most times I don’t even notice because I’m so busy adulting. Embarrassing. Shameful, even.”

His hand found mine, our fingers entwining. “We have today, and ahead of us five more glorious days off. Together. Let’s make a pact right now to not do a single shred of work. Sound good?”

I nodded. “It sounds fucking exceptionally good. If you see me working, stop me, and I’ll do the same. Deal?”

“Deal.” He kissed my cheek. “Thanks again for taking care of me. You…you’re just…amazing.”

“You’re welcome. It scared the crap out of me, man, how sick you were.” He chortled. “Perhaps that was a poor choice of words. Anyway. I’m just thankful you’re all right. So I did okay? I had no fucking idea what I was doing, dude.”

He kissed me again, this time on the lips, his tongue tentatively seeking entrance into my mouth. I opened to him, connecting, tasting the odd mixture of chicken broth and bananas, then forgetting about it quickly as he began gnawing on my lower lip. Our contact was severed as we came up for air, and I realized immediately that his panting wasn’t completely rooted in desire. I grasped his chin gently with my right hand, staring into his eyes.

“You okay?”

He nodded as I released him, taking another several seconds to catch his breath. “Yes. Though I’m mortified to admit I may not be quite well enough to take advantage of you at the moment. Forgive me?”

My eyes rolled. Twice. “Thomas. Please. You’re supposed to be resting. I’ll clean all this up, you go lie down.” His mouth opened, and I cut him off before he could begin. “NO. GO.”

He smiled. “All I was going to say is that I was planning on taking a shower first.”

“Oh. Fine. Carry on. If you need help, holler.”

We both stood, and he pulled me into a huge, warm embrace. “I love you, woman.”

“And I love you, man.”

“I know you just got up, but I don’t suppose you’d join me in bed again after I’m done washing?”

“Absofuckingloutely I will. I just need some fuel…the chocolate pie in the fridge should do the trick.” A sheepish half-smile from him. “Thomas. Tell me you did NOT eat the pie.”

He laughed. “I didn’t. I wanted to, but thought better of it. Though I wasn’t sure which would be worse…my stomach acting up again, or your wrath upon discovering it gone.”

I poked his shoulder. “Get off my deck, you cheeky bastard. GO.”

He let me go, turned and headed back into the cottage, moving at human speed instead of Tom speed. Every day at some point, I fell in love with him all over again. This was today’s moment, watching him walk away, feeling grateful that he was able to do so under his own power, and that he was…mine.

I’d just finished doing the miniscule amount of dishes his lunch and my breakfast had created when he came around the corner and into the kitchen, totally starkers.

“Oh my…Thomas, I had no idea there’d be a SHOW before we retire to the boudoir.” He grabbed me from behind, arms around my waist, lips on my neck. “And I’m sure our neighbors didn’t, either.”

He glanced to our left and saw that the curtains and the blinds were wide open, releasing me to go close them with a flourish. “My apologies, dearest neighbors…this show is by invitation only.”

When he turned around to face me, I was not in the least surprised to see that his cock was hard and at half-mast. I raised a brow, pointing.

“Well, I guess what they say is true…you really can’t keep a good man down.”

He blushed adorably, shrugging slightly, hands outstretched. “I thought maybe, just maybe, that if I didn’t have to move very much we could…”

“So you want me to ride you like a pony, is that it?”

At that, his cock twitched and grew fully erect. The blush deepened, turning from baby pink to nearly magenta, and I roared with laughter. “Oh my GOD you are so CUTE I can’t EVEN.” He covered his face with his hands, and I laughed louder, bent over with my hands on my thighs, my words sporadic and between chuckles. “If you…if you’re not…on that bed…in the next thirty…thirty seconds…I’m going to have to…SPANK YOU…”

Once I composed myself, I washed my hands, dropped my robe on the floor, and joined him in the bedroom, closing the folding door behind me. He was waiting, lying in the middle of the mattress, still red as a beet. I straddled his hips, leaning down to kiss him briefly as I took his cock in my left hand.

“Just lie back, relax, and enjoy, my love. If it’s too much and you need me to stop, just say so, okay?”

He nodded, and I ran the tip of him up and down my slit and against my clit a few times before sinking down onto his full length.

“God, Maude…you feel so good. So, so good. I love being inside you. I wish I could be inside you, every second of every day. Just like this, all the time. Divinity. All mine.”

I began rocking, slowly at first, upping my tempo as his moans grew louder, finally resting my hands on either side of his head, angling forward to ride him in earnest, our eyes locking.

“How’s that, baby? Am I your cowgirl? Riding my wild stallion, taming him, teaching him how to please me, how to behave?”

“Oh yes. Yes. YES. Please don’t stop.” His hips began bucking up into me, and I paused.

“Ah, ah…there will be none of that. This is MY rodeo, sunshine.”

He ceased, and I moved faster, the head of his cock pressing into my G-spot with every tilt of my hips. “That’s a good boy. You do as your cowgirl says and let her have her fun, and maybe you’ll earn yourself a treat, too. Would you like that?”

More nodding, his eyes closing as he forced himself to remain still, though I could feel the tension in his thighs, the desire to pound into me nearly overwhelming him. It pushed me over the edge, and I came, my own muscles tensing and releasing, squeezing him, pinning him in place inside me as my hips jerked wildly.

“There it is. Oh yeah. FUCK YEAH. Your cock is so fucking HARD, it feels so fucking GOOD my god OH MY GOD…”

He let himself go then, fucking up into me, thrusting no more than five times before he came as well, warm cum shooting up inside me, his head thrown back on the pillow, eyes still closed, mouth open, silent. The sight made me come again, my own eyelids falling shut, then snapping open in concern at the sound of him whimpering.

“Babe, you okay?”

His hand reached up to cup my jaw, slightly-unfocused gaze meeting mine. “I’m perfect, thank you. Sorry I came so quickly, love. It’s been since Sunday…how I am I ever going to manage when I’m in Australia and you’re in London for two weeks in January? I need you. I need to have you…”

I lifted myself off his softening cock and rolled onto my back beside him, his hand slipping off my chin in the process. “Skypesex. Lots of Skypesex.”

He shifted, turning his head toward me, and when I did the same the look on his face made me melt…the sweet, gentle smile, eyes wide open and full of light and love, blinking slowly, those damn lashes brushing his cheeks…I inhaled sharply at the beauty of it all, and his hand reached out again, this time to tuck my hair behind my ear.

“I’d be remiss to not mention that I’ll miss your company most of all. Your physical presence in my sphere, your laugh, your voice, your scent…you. You’re just as much a part of me as my own heart is, and living without either is impossible.”

“Well, I was going to say it’s just two weeks, it’ll go fast and we’ll be fine but now I’m going to have to quit my job and hide in your suitcase instead.”

He grinned. “I fully support that decision.” The grin faded, countenance growing serious. “I know it will be fine, and we’ve been apart a few nights here, but we’ll be halfway across the globe from each other and I’m going to miss you, Maude. Like I’ve never missed anything else before in my life. And, I have to be honest…I’m frightened, even if it’s just a little.”

I rolled over fully and propped my head up with my arm, elbow resting on the bed. “Frightened of what?”

He rolled as well. “Distance. I’ve never been good at it. I think I’m better now, but…what if you discover that you don’t want to deal with it? Or me? What if you realize while I’m gone that you liked your life better without me in it? I…”

I kissed him, sucking his tongue into my mouth, the released him quickly. “There is NO life for me without you in it, Tom. Don’t be afraid. It’s going to suck, but we’ll handle it. Just like we’ll handle anything else that comes our way…together.”

“You’re right, Maude. I know that.” A sigh escaped him, followed by a deep inhalation. “I just have remember that past experiences are exactly that…the past. I need only focus on now, and the future. Our future.” His left hand first cupped my left breast, then worked its way down to rest on my lower belly. His gaze followed, remaining there for ten seconds, then returned to my face, his eyes questioning. “Speaking of which…I’ve been meaning to ask but you have far too much on your plate already and I don’t want to add to your stress but I guess I’m going to anyway, aren’t I? Sorry, but you singing to me Monday night, it was so like a lullaby and…” His hand began to caress me gently, and I suddenly understood what it was he wanted to discuss.

“You want to know if I’ve thought about when we should start the whole let’s-try-to-knock-up-Maude business?”

He chuckled, then sobered. “Yes. So, you have, then?”

“Oh yeah. A lot, actually. Let’s face it, I’m no spring chicken, which means time is of the essence. So, I want to say, like NOW, but…and this is going to sound utterly ridiculous because I’ve been married before, much to my horror, and in this day and age no one really gives a remote shit about such things, but I am totally not comfortable with the idea of being visibly pregnant at our wedding. I’m sorry, it’s stupid…”

He kissed me then, deeply, moving the hand that was on by belly to my backside, propelling me toward him, then pulling back to reply.

“Maude, it’s not stupid, not one single bit. It’s actually rather adorable, honestly. And hilariously contradictory and god, how I love you.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know. I’m perfectly fine with fucking your brains out constantly but visible, tangible proof of said fucking in the form of a preggo belly? Oh, no, not THAT. I’m insane. But you knew that going in, right?” He snorted, and I pinched his nipple. “So. I’m thinking if I wait and go off the pill in February, that should do the trick.” I frowned.

“What is it?”

“Well, there’s another conversation we need to have.”

“Which is?”

I took a deep, shuddering breath. “Since I AM older, it might not be easy for me to get pregnant. I might not be able to get pregnant without fertility drugs, or other assistance. And there’s a possibility I might not be able to get pregnant at all. Or, since the only time I was pregnant I had a miscarriage, I might not be able to maintain a pregnancy. You need to be sure you’re okay with those things before we get married. I know you want a family, and if I can’t give that to you…”

He placed his hand over my mouth, gently silencing me. “You’ve been worrying about this.” I nodded, his hand remaining in place. “Don’t. Not ever again. We’re very fortunate that if things aren’t easy, we’re financially able to pursue any and all options available to us. And yes, I DO want a family…but Maude, there are all kinds of families. My gut tells me it won’t ever be necessary, but I’m open to anything, including adoption. Or, no children at all. YOU are what’s most important to me. It’s all I need in this life…everything else, it’s gravy. Like you just said…we’ll handle anything that comes our way, together. Right?”

I nodded again, and he removed his hand. His stomach gurgled, and he smiled at me. “Could I, do you think, possibly get away with having a teeny, tiny piece of that chocolate pie?”

“By get away, do you mean outrun me? Because that’s what it’s going to require, dude. PIE. MY PIE.”

He leapt up off the bed, opened the door just enough to squeeze through, then closed it behind him to slow me down. I didn’t bother to get up, shouting from the bed.

“Fucker. If you eat all that I’m never sleeping with you again.”

“Liar.”

“Yeah. I totally am. Bring my piece in here please, Sir Asshat.”

“As you wish, my love. As you wish.”

[drabbles-and-shit]

The Mailman is Really Attractive and Dean is Smitten

When Dean first saw the new mailman that Saturday afternoon, his body had such an immediate and visceral reaction, he had to excuse himself to his bedroom for a little quality time with his right hand.

Seriously, it was insane; nothing like that had ever happened to Dean. He only figured out that he was attracted to both guys and guys about a year ago, but he’d never even had that sort of response to a girl. And what’s worse? It was one of the best experiences he’s ever had jacking off.

Like, no shit, that mailman was the hottest human Dean ever laid eyes on, and he wasn’t even Dean’s type! Dean had always gone for the petite guys, because you know, he was a dom. Well, with guys he was. He had actually started experimenting letting girls top him, and much to his own embarrassment, he actually really liked it. There was something about someone else being in control that was hot as fuck. But, just girls. He wanted nothing in his asshole, ever, thank you very much. But anyway, even though he only ever had pursued twink-types, the mailman was buff as fuck. He had looked like he was about Dean’s height, and the summer heat-induced sweat made for a uniform that clung to his body just so Dean could see rippling muscle underneath. And the shorts, no matter how silly looking for being as short as they were, let Dean see the legs of either a runner who swims in his spare time or just the legs of an actual Adonis. And his forearms! God, so strong and tanned and--Dean noticed he was developing another situation down south and forced himself to concentrate on gross things like old people making out or his brother Sam’s face. Good, good; the situation went back down.

~***~

An uneventful week later, and Dean was back looking out his front window, shamelessly watching and waiting for the new mailman. He had no idea if he was actually going to come around again; hell, he might have just been filling in that one day for the old guy that Dean normally saw bringing the mail.

But Dean’s curiosity was rewarded, because after about ten minutes of casual spying, he noticed the mailman walking up the sidewalk with his messenger bag over one shoulder, radiating sexual appeal. God, he was just as hot as last week.

Oh my god, wait, he walked by the mailbox and towards the door. He was coming to the door. He probably had a package or something. But not the porno kind. Shit, what if he saw Dean last week? Dean jumped behind his couch as fast as humanly possible and tried to not breathe, because nobody was home. No one. Was. Home.

The doorbell rang, and Dean sucked his breath in and froze. Shit, the TV was on. He had completely forgotten it, and now the sexy mailman was going to know he was hiding like a kid afraid of Jehovah’s Witnesses, and he was going to judge him ughhhh. Suffice to say, Dean was fucking embarrassed.

He waited a solid five minutes before sneaking back to the window and checking the mailman was gone before opening his front door and grabbing the package off the step. His embarrassment was forgotten quickly, because it was his Star Trek phaser from ThinkGeek! Charlie was going to be sooooo jealous, and he couldn’t fucking wait to gloat. He snapped a picture of it and shot it off to her.

Dean: Looks like I win the gayness contest, because I can set phasers to STUN #2fab4u

Charlie: Oh my god, it came!!

Charlie: You had better bring that to work Monday so I can play with it

Dean: Only if you promise to not break it

Charlie: Btw did you see the hottie today??

Dean: Duh where did you think the package came from?

Charlie: DID YOU TALK TO HIM?!?!

Dean: You kidding? No way, Jose

Charlie: Ugh you’re no fun

Charlie: Wait. I have an idea! You should write him a letter and put it in your mailbox so he can read it when he brings your mail!!

Dean: Do you even know me? Charmando, I wouldn’t do something like that if my life depended on it

Charlie: You’re such a scaredy cat, Winchester

Dean: And proud

~***~

Drunk Dean sometimes did things that Sober Dean had to pay for, especially when his best friend/arch nemesis Charlie was involved. They always went for drinks together after work on Fridays, and somehow Dean always ended up being the only one of the two of them that did stupid, drunk person stuff. He was beginning to suspect that maybe she didn’t actually even drink, just pretended to so that she could talk his more malleable alter ego into doing what she wanted him to. Like, just a random example, writing a note to the sexy mailman.

He was going to kill her. Saturday morning met him with a skull splitting headache, and more importantly, oodles of regret. Because yes, he could vaguely remember sitting down with a pen and a piece of paper last night and writing… something. God, he couldn’t remember what the hell he had written. Maybe he had enough time to run out to the mailbox and take it out before it was too late!

Dean pulled on his sweatpants and charged out into the painfully bright midday sun. Despite his body’s many protests, he made it to the mailbox in record time, but it was for nothing, because when he opened it up, the note was gone and had been replaced by what looked like a bill and some coupons for pizza. He couldn’t really be sure, because his eyes felt like he was stabbing them full of needles. He defeatedly walked back into his house and pulled out his phone.

Dean: Dude. What happened last night. Tell me or I’m going to send your girlfriend your prom photos

He waited for a response while chewed discontentedly on a piece of cold bacon from the fridge and sipping a glass of water. He didn’t have to wait for long though, and he soon heard the telltale R2-D2 beep that was Charlie’s text alert noise.

Charlie: You were so plastered, my man. It was wild.

Charlie: I take it you only just woke up and didn’t have time to get the letter out of the box?

Dean: Shit, so that really happened? Dear god, tell me I didn’t write anything too embarrassing?

Charlie: You politely told him you wanted to suck his dick

Dean: I’ve got the picture ready to send!

Charlie: Ugh, fine. No, all you said was that you thought he looked nice and were wondering what happened to the old guy who used to bring your mail. Tbh it was pretty cute. I love drunk you

Dean sighed in relief. It was still as embarrassing as balls, but maybe the guy will think Dean has a kid or something and they wrote it. He can only hope at this point.

~***~

When Dean got home from work Monday evening and opened up the mailbox, his hopes that the mailman would just ignore the letter were proven useless.

Sitting there in the box, on top of a classic car magazine he subscribed to, was a small blue envelope with no stamp and just his first name in rather lovely script in the middle. He ripped it open before he even got inside, because holy fuck, there’s no one who would drive by his house just to put a letter in my mail other than Mr. Sexypants. It read:

Dear Dean,

I’m guessing by your handwriting and subject matter that you’re either a child or a drunk man. If it’s the former, please tell your parents that I am not a pedophile. Please. If you’re an adult and just have terrible handwriting, I’m sorry for touching on a sore subject.

Anyway, Cain, your previous mail carrier, was only working your route temporarily. He actually is one of the higher-ups for the USPS and was delivering mail as a sort of extended vacation from management. Odd, I know.

I appreciate that you think I look nice, and if you’re the adult male who lives at this address, I think you do too. If you’re a child, I’m sure you look nice, but in a non-pedophilic way.

Yours,

Castiel

Oh my god, Dean was in love. Haha, just kidding. He’s not in love; what are you talking about? Totally not in love. Nope, not at all. He lunged inside, pulled off his jacket and tie, and began furiously debating whether or not to tell Charlie about this. On the one hand, she’s his only real friend besides his younger brother, who is constantly busy with lawyer-things. But on the other hand, she would totally gloat about this for the rest of her life. But fuck it, he needs to talk to someone about this, because he never has romance in his life!

Dean: Omg you’ll never believe what happened\\

Charlie: Ooh! What??!

Dean: Mr. Double Stuffed Hotness is named Castiel, and I might want to marry him

Charlie: HE WROTE BACK?!?! It’s fate, my young grasshopper

Dean: I’m gonna send you a pic of the letter he wrote back so you can help me figure out what to write back

\

Charlie: You had better let me be your best man!! AND let me officiate!!! I’m already planning my speech

Dean: Don’t get ahead of yourself… but I’m actually kind of psyched rn

And so the planning began. Eventually, they decided on a note that read the following:

Dear Castiel,

As you deduced, I was drunk. Don’t worry, I’ll tell my parents you aren’t a pedophile anyway, just in case. Of course, they’re both in their 60s and will probably also assume I’m drunk, but better safe than sorry.

Thank you for saying I look nice, though I can’t imagine when you’ve seen me. I’m normally at work when you bring the mail (around 1:30pm, right?), so have you seen me on a Saturday? Okay, you don’t need to answer, just in case you’re actually a stalker or something. It’s never good to confront the bad guy in horror movies, and I’ve learned my lesson.

Hey, is your name really Castiel, or is that a pseudonym? I googled it, and it’s the name of the Angel of Thursday? What’s so special about Thursdays?

Live long and prosper,

Dean

~***~

Dear Dean,

I’m very glad I won’t be going to jail for calling a child attractive. You can probably hear my sigh of relief from there.

I can neither confirm nor deny when/where I have seen you. Also, are you calling me the antagonist of a horror film? If so, please enlighten me on which one, because I’m rather a fan of being scared shitless, and I’m sure seeing myself as the murderer will make an horror viewing experience even more terrifying.

And yes, my name is really Castiel. Let’s just say my parents were hippies. Many people call me Cas, though, and my siblings call me Cassie. I don’t like my siblings very much.

What about you? Why are you named Dean? Did your parents hope you would create a list of exceptional people? Or perhaps they wanted you to grown up to resemble Dean Martin?

I’m sorry, I don’t know where all that rude sass came from; it’s been a long day.

Khaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan,

Cas

~***~

Mr. Spock,

I had a girlfriend named Cassie once! Sort that information away for a future test, I suppose. How many siblings do you have? I one brother, and he can be such a bitch sometimes, so I definitely get where you’re coming from.

As it happens, I’m named after my grandmother, Deanna. And I swear to god, if you make fun of me for that, I will, um, do something… I don’t know exactly what yet, but I’ll figure it out, and it’ll be awful, I promise!

So, is it really that hard being a mailman? (You said it had been a rough day.) I’m a mechanic, by the way. If you ever need to know anything about cars, just hit me up, and I’ll be happy to help. For a price… Ha, just kidding. Maybe…

Dammit Cas, I’m a mechanic, not a doctor!

Dean

~***~

Bones,

I find it slightly perturbing that my nickname is also the name of your ex. But I always ace tests, so I guess I’m glad to know it anyway.

I have 5 siblings. I know. Hippies don’t believe in birth control, I guess. But yes, family of 8, from Michael the oldest, down to Sam the youngest. Since I’m on the subject, I suppose I might as well list off all my siblings. There’s Mike, Gabe, Luce, me, Anna, and Sam, ranging in ages from 37 to 21. Oh, I’m the ripe old age of 29, by the way. Not that that matters. Jesus, this entire letter is me talking about my family, sorry.

And no, it’s not hard being a mailman, but it is hard having to take your beloved cat to the veterinarian because they’re refusing to eat, not having bowel movements, and rolling around on the floor, meowing in pain. The poor guy had a blockage and almost died. It was a tough day.

I might just take you up on your offer to help explain things about cars, because I am completely clueless about them. I drive an old clunker that eats gas money like nobody’s business, and I really need to get a new car as soon as possible.

Have you been at the Romulan ale again??

Cas

~***~

Castiel,

I know I signed my last note with a Bones reference, but make no mistake, I am 100% Kirk, and I would appreciate it if you referred to me as such. Thank you for not forcing me to pursue legal action.

Dude, my younger brother is named Sam! Well, technically he’s named Samuel, after our grandfather, but still. Weird. And I’m 32, so that’s cool I guess.

I’m sorry to hear about your cat; that sounds pretty awful. I’ve never really had pets, and I’m actually allergic to cats, but I remember when Sammy’s dog was hit by a car and how distraught he was. I’m guessing your cat is all right now, though? If so, I’m glad. If not, sorry for rubbing salt in the wound.

Dude, do not drive that car. Like, stop it now. Please, for the sake of car lovers everywhere. Take it down to Singer’s Auto Salvage Yard; Bobby is a friend of mine, and if you tell him I sent you, he’ll give you a good price for it, and then you can use that money to buy something that’s not a piece of shit.

*funny Star Trek reference here*

Captain James Tiberius Kirk

~***~

Jim,

Can you sense me rolling my eyes? Because there’s some serious ocular oscillation going on right now in reference to your threats.

And I shortened my Sam’s name, too. His full name is Samandriel. Hippies, am I right?

Yes, my cat is fine, thank Talos. He is my best friend, and I don’t think I would be able to function properly if something happened to him. He’s a black shorthair named Toothless, by the way. Yes, I’m a basic bitch. Bite me.

I’ll try and take your advice about the car. I think my car is actually the automobile form of Sauron’s ring of power, because every time I’ve tried to get rid of it, it talks me into keeping it. I know in my heart that it needs to be torn apart for scraps, that it is taking advantage of me and should be destroyed before it does something terrible, but it’s mine. My own. My...precious…

Oh, my biggest problem is that if I sell her, I don’t know anything about buying cars, so I’m afraid someone will take advantage of my naivete and sell me an equally shitty car for a ridiculous price. Any suggestions?

*I can do this too*

Spock Spock Spock-ity Spock

~***~

Spockity,

God, I wish my parents had been hippies. Instead they were hippos. Yep, I was adopted by a pair of hippopotami at the age of four. Don’t believe me? Ask the Topeka Zoo, and they’ll corroborate my story. (Please don’t actually do that; they might remember me from when I was a teenager and broke in there to try and pet the giraffes.)

And I will never judge anyone for loving How To Train Your Dragon, because that movie was legendary. Toothless is the cutest dragon probably ever, and Hiccup is such a dreamboat.

Um, we definitely need to get rid of that car. Do not take me for some conjurer of cheap tricks! I’m trying to help you. And speaking of helping you, if you find a car and want to know just how swindled you’re going to be, just send me the information, and I can let you know if you should buy it or not!

So… what kind of music do you like? I’m a big classic rock fan, and if you aren’t I will become determined to change that about you.

Can we up switch references? Maybe Princess Bride or something?

Princess Buttercup

~***~

Buttercup,

I find your story inconceivable. But did you truly grow up in Kansas? Personally, I grew up in the wilds of Washington; Seattle, actually.

And good; I would be very upset with you if you didn’t love Toothless and Hiccup, though I must say Hiccup is not exactly my type. I like my men a little older than he (recall that I’m not a pedophile), and I think any man I may date should definitely be my size or larger, or else I might kill them accidentally in bed. Huh, I guess we haven’t really talked about sexuality ever, so sorry if that made you uncomfortable.

I would greatly appreciate it if you would actually send me your phone number or email or something, so I could send you the information on a car I’m seriously considering buying. If you’d rather not hand out such personal information, I completely understand though.

I confess I haven’t listened to much classic rock. I mostly listen to classical music, though I’ve been delving into the genre of lofi hiphop, and I actually really enjoy it.

As you wish,

Vizzini

~***~

Vizzini,

You keep using that word; I do not think it means what you think it means…

Yes, I grew up in Kansas, a little town called Lawrence to be precise. And the bit about breaking into the zoo was real too, so please don’t report me.

And honestly, I’m kind of in a weird experimental stage with my sexuality right now. I know, that’s supposed to happen during college, but maybe I’m just not a normal guy, all right? Anyway, I think I’ve officially decided I’m bisexual, but who knows? Romance is tiring, but sex is fun, and I don’t really mind who the hole belongs to. Jesus, that sounded awful and disgusting; sorry. I’m not even really like that any more. I haven’t had a hookup for like three months, which has got to be some kind of record. Sorry, this I should stop writing while I have the chance.

Totally send me the deets about the car, man. My number is 1-866-907-3235

Dude, I’m going to indoctrinate you. You fucking need to listen to classic rock; it’s the stuff of gods. Maybe I’ll make you a mixtape or something so you can listen to all the best songs. Weird question: do you have a tape player? I’m kind of old fashioned, so yeah, I’m going to make you a cassette tape with my favorite Zepp tracks on it.

Mahwage, dah bwessed awangment,

The Dread Pirate Roberts

~***~

For some reason, it was taking Cas a long time to get back to Dean. They had kind of worked out an unspoken schedule by this point; one of them put a letter in the box Monday, the other responded by Wednesday, and then the first sent back a response the Friday of the same week. Basically three letter a week for the past month or so. No, that’s not weird or creepy for two adult men to do at all.

Dean had dropped off that last letter on a Monday, but no reply came on Wednesday. He tried to not let it bother him, thinking Cas was probably busy or something. But then there wasn’t a reply Thursday or Friday either, and he started to get a little miffed. The least Cas could have done was to text him now that he had his number, but noooo. Unfortunately, Dean had to be out of town that Saturday, so no confrontation could happen over the 1:30 mail delivery.

The next Saturday rolled around with no word from Cas again, and Dean was starting to get legitimately worried. He would have understood if the guy took some time off maybe for being sick or something, but two weeks? Nobody takes two weeks off, especially without telling their… friend? Suddenly, Dean’s ridiculous number of insecurities started blaring at him. What if he and Cas weren’t friends? What if he didn’t actually mean anything to Cas at all? He probably was just another drain on Cas’ time, and Cas had finally decided he’d had enough and didn’t want to talk to Dean anymore. Hell, he might have requested a different route because Dean was harassing him. Shit, of course all this was too good to be true. Dean never made friends; Charlie was the only acception to that painful trend, and he had no idea why she still hung out with him.

Dean knew those thoughts too well; he knew his own self-loathing always came around and wouldn’t leave until he started thinking about other things. So, he thought about Cas. It was almost 1:30, two weeks since he’d heard from him last, and he decided to camp out at the mailbox and wait for whoever came. He had to know if Cas was all right, at least. The guy was his friend, even if maybe Cas didn’t see him as one.

He didn’t have long to wait before seeing his old mailman (Cain, was it?) peddling a sleek bicycle down the sidewalk with a messenger bag slung over his shoulder.

“Um, hey, sorry to bother you. Cain, is it?” Dean fidgeted, feeling awkward as fuck.

“Yes, that’s me. Can I help you with something?” Huh, okay, Cain seemed like a pretty chill guy. Maybe Dean could actually avoid a panic attack from doing something this wild.

“Uh, yeah. Do you know Castiel? He brought mail on this route for a while? I just haven’t seen him in a while, and I was worried that something happened.” Dean was talking too fast, but he couldn’t help it, okay?

“I know Castiel, and I know he took off a few weeks. Don’t know why though; maybe a vacation or something. I wouldn’t worry about it though, if I were you.”

Oh Dean was gonna worry about it, no doubt about that. Because wow, he was glad Cas was all right and not dead somewhere, but Jesus, what kind of douchebag friend goes on an extended vacation without so much as a goodbye?? So yeah, Dean was going to worry about what he did wrong and why he never could keep friends, and why he was such a fucked up excuse for a human being. Awesome.

~***~

Dean was depressed. Charlie tried cheering him up but to no avail. He was just depressed. He actually took the day off on Monday, because he was such a fucking sissy who couldn’t deal with anything. God, no wonder Cas didn’t care about him. No one should care about him; he was so pathetic.

The doorbell rang. Dean lifted his head from the pillow it had been buried in for the entire first half of the day and decided he probably ought to answer the door, seeing as there was a 98% chance it was Charlie with pie and beer and a chick flick to make him feel better. God, she was too good for him; he didn’t deserve such a good friend.

He pulled the door open and was greeted by the invisible man; wait no, there was a package and a pile of mail on the front step. He sighed and picked it all up, then promptly dropped it all on the floor, shut the door, and collapsed on the couch. He didn’t feel like looking at the mail. He didn’t feel like doing anything except for sleeping. Ugh.

But maybe that package would cheer him up. He rolled his eyes at the tiny optimistic voice in his head and then rolled right off the couch and crawled to the pile of mail. He grabbed package without so much as glancing over the letters, probably all bills, and violently tore it open. Ooh, it was those custom leather-bound journals he ordered off Etsy. One was embroidered with his Hogwarts House logo (Hufflepuff and proud!) and the other matched it but had Charlie’s House (Ravenclaw, more like Raven...dumb! Good one). One of the few things he was ashamed of about being a sissy was doing things like buying matching things for himself and his best friend, or having sleepovers with his best friend, or planning his future wedding with his best friend. ANYway.

Okay, cool, the opening the package plan had worked! Dean was feeling better already. But then he saw it. Underneath the topmost bill was a little blue envelope. Dean’s hand had never moved so fast (yes, never).

Sure enough, it was from Cas. But unlike all the other letters Dean had gotten from him, this one was stamped and had both mailing and return addresses on it. Without stopping to think about what the fuck that could possibly mean, Dean ripped open the letter and read:

Dear Dean,

I am so sorry I haven’t written you in so long. To put it succinctly, my father had a heart attack, and I had to go to to Washington to be with him. The past two weeks have been about family and rekindling our relationships with each other. My father passed away two nights ago, and the funeral was yesterday. I know we never really talk about serious things, but I hope you won’t mind if I tell you this.

Honestly, as heartbroken as I am to see my father pass, I’m grateful that it has brought my family back together. All of us were there with him at the end, all of us were gathered around his bedside as he breathed his last. And he went peacefully, so I’m also grateful for that. I’ll be staying up here for another few days before flying back, and then I’ll be back to work as normal. I put my address that I’m staying at while I’m in Seattle as the return address, but I’ll add my home address too at the bottom of the page; it only feels fair that since I know where you live, you should know where I do too.

Again, I’m sorry if I made you worry at all. I know you might not see me the same way, but you’ve actually become one of my closest friends over the past month. What that says about my personal life? That I’m very awkward and antisocial, that’s what it says.

I hope to talk to you soon,

Castiel

Thank the fucking lord. Dean let go of a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding and grabbed his phone.

Dean: Cas is okay!! His dad died but he’ll be back soon

Charlie: Wait, his dad died, but he’ll be back soon? Who is he, god? I mean, Jesus. Whatever, I’m not required to make good religious jokes

Dean: Haha, very funny

Charlie: But yay!! I’m so glad for you!! Maybe now you’ll stop sulking like a little lost puppy

Dean: I make no promises

~***~

As promised, Cas was back by the end of the week, and Dean couldn’t stop grinning when he looked out his window Saturday to see Cas walking up to his mailbox.

He pulled the door open and ran out, unprecedented behavior from the man afraid to make eye contact with girl scouts selling cookies outside the front of the grocery store.

“Cas! It’s good to see you, man!” He went in for a hug, but then it got a little too real, so it ended up being one of those awkward side-hugs that no one really likes but everyone has to deal with.

Cas smiled back widely, and Dean got a little lost in his eyes. Wow, he’d never actually seen Cas up close, and now that he did, he could tell that Cas was actually the most attractive man alive. His ocean blue eyes drew Dean in, and he found himself completely phasing out to the point that Cas had to repeat a question three times before he could respond.

“Sorry, um, what was that?” Was the response. Classic.

“I asked if you were all right; you look a little phased.” No shit, Sherlock.

“Uh yeah, I’m fine. Just a little tired.”

“I was a little worried I’d scared you off with my last letter, seeing as how you didn’t write back.” Shit, Dean had forgotten to.

“Fuck, I totally forgot that I had your address. I guess I’m not used to actually properly sending letters, not just putting them in the mailbox.” They shared a quiet laugh before Dean went on, somberly. “I’m really sorry about your dad. My mom passed a few years back, and I know how painful it is.”

Cas smiles sadly. “Yeah, it was rough, but like I said in the letter, it really brought my family together, and I’m sure dad would have been happy to see the impact he had on us.” He paused, and Dean could there was something more rolling around in his mind, so he decided to stay silent and let Cas finish his thought. “It’s funny, he was such an absent father when we were growing up. I know he was different when he and my mom were first married; I think he was a carpenter or something, and he was always at home with Mike and Luce when they were little. But then his business took off, and by the time I was in diapers, he was hardly ever around. Business trips, late nights working, early morning meetings, it never ended. It kind of tore our family apart, bit by bit. First, Gabe ran away when he was 16. He didn’t get in touch with any of us for almost a whole year. Later, he told me he just couldn’t stand to see all the arguing and pain in our family. Then it was Luce, angrily storming off to college and refusing to answer our calls or emails. He loved all of us, his siblings so much, and I think watching dad’s absence affect us younger kids really took a toll on him.”

Suddenly, Cas’ eyes flashed up, and his cheeks grew pink. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I’ve just been standing here, telling you my life’s story. And fuck, I’m on the clock; I really need to run.”

Before Cas could move, Dean grabbed his wrist. “Wait, can you give me your phone number? I put mine in my last letter to you, but I’m guessing you didn’t get that.”

They exchanged numbers as quickly as possible, and Cas ran off towards the next house on his route. Dean grinned as he watched his run away and immediately send him a trial-run text.

Dean: If you gave me a fake number, I’m going to go to your house and shave your cat

Off in the distance (only about 200 feet, to be perfectly honest), Cas stopped and looked down at his phone, and Dean could not hold back a huge laugh.

Castiel: Toothless would kill your sorry ass

~***~

Regina George,

Oh my god, you’re so fetch.

Sorry Cas, I don’t know why, but I really felt like I had to change our theme to Mean Girls. Sue me. (Also, you better have fucking watched Mean Girls, or there will be hell to pay.)

So, my friend Charlie talked me into this, but I guess I kind of agreed with her that I ought to do it. And you can totally say no thanks, not interested, and it’ll be completely fine! But, I was wondering if maybe you’d be interesting in going on a date with me sometime…?

Wow, I am a child. Well, a teenage girl, to be precise. Oh shit, and you keep telling me you’re not a pedophile, so you’re definitely not going to want to go out with me now that you know my true identity. Well this is a fine mess I’ve gotten myself into.

Have you sold that car yet? You should really get on that.

Yours forever,

Amy Poehler

~***~

Mother,

Of course I’ve seen Mean Girls, I’m not that out of the proverbial loop.

And would you please thank your friend Charlie for me? I’ll admit, I’ve wanted to go on a date with you for a quite a while now, but ye ole’ social ineptitude wouldn’t let me ask. Maybe text me when you get this, and we can work out a time/place? Saturday nights are usually best for me, considering I’m always off Sundays.

Please Dean, if you’re a teenage girl, then I am too, and then it’s not pedophilia.

And no, I haven’t sold it yet, because I haven’t decided on a new one to buy yet, because in case you hadn’t noticed, my life has been a little hectic lately. I’ll try and text you the details on the car I’m looking at soon, though.

Fours yorever,

Reginers

~***~

Saturday night is there before Dean can get his shit together. He had frantically texted Charlie minutes after making the date with Cas asking her what he should wear and how he should act and whether he should just run away and never come back. You know, normal stuff.

In the end, he and Cas had decided on meeting an a small burger place near Cas’ place, so Dean knew he shouldn’t wear something too fancy. But he didn’t want to wear just his every minute of every day bluejeans, t-shirt, and flannel combo. So, with some sagely advice from Charlie, he’s decided on his most flattering pair of grey jeans and a button down maroon shirt, freshly ironed. Honestly, not half bad, even by his self-degrading standards. He toyed with the idea of a grey tie with the top two buttons of his collar undone, and decided it was too snazzy for him to refuse.

A 15-minute drive later, he was walking into the restaurant and looking around for Cas. And boy, did he find him. Cas was wearing a tight pair of black jeans, an Egyptian blue button down, and a black waistcoat, and holy fuck, Dean was having another southward situation just at the sight. He repeated the words ‘puss, flesh, old-people skin,’ in his head for half a minute until everything was hunky dory again, then made his way to the bar where Cas was standing.

“You look great, Cas.” Dean grinned when he saw Cas blatantly checking his ass. The good old grey jeans never fail.

“As do you, Dean,” Cas responded, his pupils mildly larger than probably normal.

They made their way over to a small corner booth and waived down a waitress. Adorably enough, they both ordered the same bacon cheeseburger, and in the time it took for their food to arrive, they discussed possible future heart health and how they were both going to die eventually, so it might as well be from eating delicious food.

“Dude, if bacon’s what gets me, I win,” Dean remarked right before taking a huge bite into his burger.

Cas harrumphed in agreement, then moaned around the first bite of his own burger.

Uh oh. Turned out, visual Cas is nothing compared to audible Cas in terms of making Dean’s nether regions all kinds of interested. To put it simply, Dean was sitting at a booth, on a first date, a burger in his mouth, almost completely hard. Awesome.

“Dean, are you okay?” Shit, Cas apparently noticed the panicked look on Dean’s face, and Dean’s face burned red.

“Um, yeah, I’m fine. I, um, just kinda have a little… situation. Downstairs. God this is so embarrassing; I’m soooooo, so sorry. Please don’t hate me.”

Cas was quiet for a second, then burst out with infectious laughter, and Dean couldn’t help but join in. “Oh my god, that’s hilarious. Was it become of the groan I just made or…?”

Dean ran a hand through his hair before responding, “Um, yeah. Fuck. Look, I haven’t gotten

laid in close to three months, so cut me a little slack. And honestly, I’m really sorry. I wanted this

to be a really special first date, but I feel like I kind of ruined it.” Like Dean ruined everything.

“Oh, no no no! Really, I understand much better than you’d think,” Cas assuaged his fear and sorrow with a comforting pat on the back on the hand. “It’s honestly fine. Now, do you need to go to take a trip to the bathroom, or are you all right now?”

Dean informed Cas that apparently humiliation was not one of his kinks, and the situation had resolved itself, and they were able to go on with their dinner like it had never happened.

But you know, it did happen, and Dean hadn’t had sex in months, and Cas was the hottest date Dean had ever had. SO yeah. Things happen.

~***~

After an amazing evening of burgers, pie, beer, and literal hours of conversation, they decided it was definitely time for them to part ways. Cas had walked to the restaurant, so Dean offered to drop him off on his way home, and Cas gratefully accepted.

The car ride was normal, if slightly tense. They were both slightly buzzed and totally attracted to each other, after all. But it was chill.

Dean pulled up to Cas’ home, a cozy-looking apartment complex, and parked his car in one of the visitor spots. They both climbed out and walked together up to Cas’ door.

“So, I had an awesome time tonight,” Dean half-mumbled, really trying his best to appear like he wasn’t desperate to go out with Cas again as soon as possible. “You think you might want to do this again sometime? I mean, really, I totally get it if like I’m not your type or you’re just not into me or you think I’m too--”

Cas slammed their faces (particularly their lips) together, effectively cutting off Dean’s self-abusive train of thought and filling his mind with only the pure bliss of Cas’ warm mouth on his, their tongues fighting for dominance. Cas’ mouth tasted amazing, like apple pie and happiness. Dean hungrily chased the flavour, and he couldn’t get enough. They broke for air for just a minute before Cas wheeled Dean around and up against his apartment door, weaving one hand into his hair and grabbing Dean’s own hand with the other, pinning it up against the door above his head.

Dean had never felt less in control, and it was amazing. He could feel the strength in Cas’ body shoved up against his own. He felt vulnerable, but for once in his life, he was okay with that vulnerability.

Cas moved his mouth down from Dean’s mouth to his neck, peppering the skin with hot, wet kisses. He settled on one spot, the meaty place between Dean’s neck and right shoulder and assaulted it with licks, kisses, nibbles, and sucks. He was driving Dean crazy, and Dean honestly couldn’t stop himself from moaning out, “Uhhhh, Cas…”

Maybe it was something about how he broke the silence, but Cas suddenly stilled and looked up at Dean, alarm filling his eyes. “Oh my god, Dean, I’m sorry. I’ve never done this before; I don’t know what came over me.” He stepped back from Dean and rubbed his hands over his face.

“What? Why’d you stop?” Dean replied, feeling suddenly abandoned.

Cas locked eyes with Dean and said very seriously, “I have no idea what I’m doing, Dean. I’ve never had sex; hell, I’ve never been in a relationship that lasted longer than a week. And you’re this amazing, attractive man who has had so much sex and knows all about it, and I’m just going to embarrass myself and it’ll be terrible and--”

This time, Dean satisfies the cliche, cutting off Cas’ river of doubts with a kiss into which he poured all the words he wanted to say but didn’t know how: that Cas made him feel safe and comfortable and like he could be himself and still feel appreciated and cared for and special and important.

Cas seemed to get the message, and he quickly took control once again, holding Dean tight in his arms and kissing him with more passion than is in an entire episode of Casa Erotica.

Dean had been hard for a while now, and as Cas clung to him, he could feel that Cas was in about the same spot as he was. But shit, if Cas was a virgin, that would put a lot of weight on Dean’s shoulders, right? He wanted to make it perfect for Cas, because that’s what Cas deserved.

But apparently, Cas had a completely different idea. He pulled away from Dean, and with his pupils completely blown wide and dark, moved his mouth to Dean’s ear and whispered, “I’m going to make you feel so good.”

Huh, well, Dean realized at that moment he was completely, 100%, no doubt about it, a bottom. And apparently, Cas’ self-confidence boosted itself threefold when he was horny, so yeah. That was pretty sweet.

Cas fumbled with his apartment keys and opened the front door before pushing Dean inside and slamming the door behind them. He kiss-walked (that thing where people are joined at the mouth but still manage to move around, that’s honestly kind of impressive if you think about it) Dean to what Dean assumed could only be his bedroom and shoved him onto the bed before climbing on top of waist and resuming kissing him like a man dying of dehydration and Dean’s mouth was a fucking water fountain.

Without breaking their lip lock, Cas scrambled to get Dean’s tie off, and Dean did his best to help with the clothing removal process, but his efforts were mostly futile.

Finally, after a  pathetically long and unromantic struggle, they were both naked, and Dean was basically drooling at the sight of Cas’ dick. Like, holy hell, it’s not like Dean himself was small, but Jesus, he was embarrassed of his own length in the presence of Cas’ massiveness.

Cas grinned with a hungry look in his eye as he took Dean in, and Dean felt suddenly self conscious as Cas scanned him so carefully.

Cas noticed the change in Dean’s demeanor and guessed the source quickly. “Dean, you are so beautiful,” his husky voice reassured before leaning in and capturing Dean’s lips once again, this time with a contrastingly gentle and loving kiss, and for once in his life, Dean let himself actually believe that about himself.

The kiss soon got more heated, and Cas’ hands began exploring Dean’s body, starting in his hair, traveling down his chest, over his hips, and down his thighs. Dean moaned and realized that, much to his embarrassment, he was actually close.

Fortunately, Cas seemed to sense he should advance things, and he trailed his hands back up to Dean’s throbbing cock. Dean let out a punched groan at the first touch to his hot member, squeezed his eyes shut tight, and clenched his fists behind Cas’ back. “So good, Cas…”

Cas’ hand left his cock for a minute, and Dean heard the telltale sounds of someone spitting before the hand returned, slick and tight. Just a couple tugs and Dean was coming with a shout. “Oh, Cas, oh fuck, Cas!”

He had never come so quickly in his entire life, but Dean couldn’t even find it in himself to be ashamed, especially as he heard Cas grunting as he followed directly behind him.

“Cas, that was…”

A sudden worried look fell over Cas’ face. “Was it bad? I’m sorry, I know we both came really fast.”

Dean laughed and tried his best kiss the pouting look off of Cas. “No, it was amazing, Cas. Jesus, that was the most vanilla shit I’ve ever done, but it was perfect.” Dean sighed and steeled himself before continuing. “And actually, I think the reason it was perfect was because, well, it was with you, Cas.”

~***~

“Honeybee, I’m home!” Dean stripped off his big winter coat and hung it on the hook by the front door.

“I’m in the kitchen, Dean!” Dean stalked through the house and up behind his husband, snaking his arms around the other man’s broad chest and leaning over his shoulder to give him a peck on the cheek.

“How was work today?” Dean asked, glancing around the kitchen and noticing with a grin what looked suspiciously like the mess left after someone has baked an apple pie.

“Work was lovely, thank you. Of course, that was mostly because of the letter I got from my favorite stop on my favorite route.” Cas grinned and spun around to give Dean a proper kiss.

“I’m your favorite?!” Dean grinned and pulled back before Cas could kiss him

Cas rolled his eyes, “No, I’m talking about our neighbor, Mrs. Tran.”

“I love you too, babe.” Dean finally let himself be pulled into his husband’s eager arms and smiled into the kiss. Fate was kind of awesome.  

[fcklifeex]

Dean Ambrose - Request 3

Request: Hey there darling ! First off I’d like to say I love your work. Secondly I was wondering if you could a Dean Ambrose x reader where the reader is the Bella Twins’ younger sister and secretly dating Dean and Nikki and Brie and a bunch of the other women on the roster find out on Total Divas or something ? Fluff and all that good warm fuzzy stuff ? (If not I’m sorry for bugging you ❤️)

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Total Divas - Episode 1

Interview Segment: “Hi!” I gave a little wave to the camera. “I’m Y/N and I’m a WWE Diva. I’m 28 years old and as most of you know, I’m Brie and Nikki Bella’s little sister. Being in the business with my older sisters has its ups and downs. In real life, the twins usually outnumbered me so things went their way but when I came into the WWE, that wasn’t the case. I chose make a name for myself separately and so far I’d say I’ve done pretty well.

I never would’ve thought that I’d been working for WWE much less that I would’ve been a Diva’s Champion not once but twice and to top it all off, I’m dating the WWE World Heavyweight Champion - Dean Ambrose.”

My cheeks turned pink as I blushed and I couldn’t help but smile offering a shrug to the camera. “It’s great.”

---

“Dean!” I called out walking through the front door making my way towards the kitchen.

Catching my breath from my run, I walked into my bathroom to wash the sweat off my face. The Vegas heat was cruel this time of year but I saw it as a way of building endurance.

“Dean!” I yelled out again, walking into the kitchen only to see a trail of clothes leading out towards the backyard.

I rolled my eyes and grabbed a bottle of water, taking a sip before I followed the trail out into the backyard where I saw him swimming in the pool.

Interview Segment: Unbeknownst to almost everyone, Dean and I have been dating for a little over 2 years now. We bought a home together about a year into our relationship and it’s our own little escape from the 300-plus days on the road.

“Hey babe.��� He smiled at me as he swam to the edge. “How was the run?”

“It was alright. Mind telling me why you’re in the pool in boxers?” I laughed, approaching him.

“Well, I worked out and I was going to take a shower, but then I heard the pool calling my name. You know I can’t resist that…” I laughed and he reached for my ankle. “And now you’re going to join me.”

“Ahh!” I laughed, backing away. “Like hell I am. These leggings are brand new.”

He cocked his head to the side before a smirk crossed his face. “They make your ass look great.” He replied then he was all of a sudden out of the water. “But you’re getting in this pool one way or another.”

“Dean!” I squealed, laughing as I tried to run away around the pool.

He chased after me, wrapping his arms around my waist and lifting me up into the air.

“No! Don’t you dare suplex me, Dean Ambrose!” I warned but he called my bluff, throwing both of us in the pool.

---

“Drinks and Karaoke?” I asked, throwing on an ACDC tank top.

Dean laughed, tying his sneakers. I slipped into my boots and walked closer to him so he could tie them for me. “We’ll be on the road for the next three weeks, Josh and Mel wanted to hang out before then so this is what I picked.” He replied, standing up from the bed to kiss me.

“God, you’re amazing!” I smiled as he spun me around.

After meeting our friends at the bar, we all let loose with a couple of drinks while catching up with them regarding family and and work. Dean threw his arm around me, keeping me tucked into his side while we all hung out, ordering us two more shots of whiskey which we downed pretty quickly.

“Dean and Y/N? You’re up next, here’s the song book.” One of the staff said, handing us a binder full of songs.

Dean placed it in front of us flipping through the laminated pages. “What’re you feeling like this time?”

“Ooh! They got Rebel Yell.” I pointed at the song name on the list.

He laughed, nodding his head. “Billy Idol for the win.”

Once the other couple finished, we walked up, grabbing the mics. Dean cleared his throat, shaking his legs to gain some adrenaline before he looked over at me with a wink.

The music started and on que, Dean began to sing.

“Last night a little dancer, came dancin’ to my door. Last night a little angel, came pumping on the floor. She said -”

I danced around him, bobbing my head to the music before joining him on the verse. “Come on baby I’ve got a license for love, and if it expires, pray help from above.”

“Because -”

I shook out my hair before singing with him. 

“In the midnight hour, she cried more, more, more!” We sang together, laughing and bobbing along to the music. “With a rebel yell - she cried more more more!”

Interview segment: Our favorite thing is karaoke. Both of us are music junkies and we get really into it. We’re always dancing and singing oldies in the car or at home - wherever. It’s one of the things that’s always bonded us.

The song came to an end and everyone cheered as Dean pulled me into his arms giving me a gentle headbutt before kissing me and returning to our seats.

---

“Pizza’s here!” Dean said, walking out to our backyard and setting the box down on the table. Pulling two bottles of beer out of the pockets of his shorts, he sat down beside me, grabbing a slice. “You all packed for tomorrow? Flight’s at 4:40 in the morning.”

“I’m packed, just my toothbrush and dry shampoo.” I replied, grabbing a slice and putting my feet up on the table looking through my phone.

“Ugh, i hate when you use that, your hair just feels like powder.” He replied, making a face, before taking a bite out of his pizza.

“We can’t all be lucky as lucky as you, walking around all greasy headed.” I retorted.

“They don’t call me the lunatic fringe for nothing.” He laughed.

“Hey look!” I said, showing him my phone. “There’s finally a new Lore podcast.”

“Do you wanna save it for tomorrow on the plane or -“

“No way, I’ve been waiting way too long.” I shook my head. “Besides, i already filled me laptop full of Ghost Adventures and Unsolved Mysteries to keep us busy the next few weeks.”

“That’s my girl.” He smiled, grabbing another slice.

After eating, he laid down beside me on the patio sofa, both of us with one headphone in as we looked at the string-lit trees listening to the spooky stories on the podcast.

I curled into his arms, my legs resting on his lap as he traced circles on my back with his fingertips. He laid his head on mine, kissing my hair softly as he held me close.

Interview Segment: See, people have this expectation of wrestlers that they’re always eccentric and hyper like we are during shows. Well while that is the case at times, we’re also human. Dean and I might be at the height of our careers but we’re just like everyone else.

We like listening to music and scaring ourselves with horror movies. We binge on pizza on the few nights we’re home because neither of us feel like cooking. We go out and embarrass ourselves with friends. Hopefully all this gets to give you guys a peak at how we are outside of the ring.

Monday Night Raw - Backstage Screening

“Well?” Sean asked, looking at the room full of Divas but all of their eyes were on me.

Tonight we got to screen the first episode of Total Divas Season 6. The screening however was shown to us during a Monday Night Raw show, which meant any Diva and Superstar that wasn’t busy could drop in and watch if they wanted too.

“What...the...fuck, Y/N!” Nikki hit me in the arm while both her and Brie demanded answers.

Unfortunately, I was going to catch a whole lot of heat seeing as nobody knew Dean and I were dating. Until right now.

For the last 2 years we were able to keep it on the low. We had our home in Vegas. We had our own group of friends we hung out with that weren’t in the WWE. During shows we’d arrive separately, we never really ran into each other and we’d only meet back up in the hotel room. It was the only way to make it all work between super crazed fans of both of ours as well as my nosy family.

See, while I adored my friends, family, and fans - they could be overbearing at times which is why we kept it to ourselves. We were extremely private about our personal lives and aside from the company execs, nobody had known. Even the company had been kept in the dark until we had to go update our addresses when we moved into our home.  

Then WWE decided I needed to be on Total Divas. They said they wanted to add fuel to one of Dean’s upcoming storylines and since I’d appeared in background scenes of the show every so often with the Twins, they thought the show would be the perfect way to do that - despite all of our protests.

But once the decision was made, Dean and I talked and decided we would give it our all. If it had to be shown, they were going to see us on our terms and get a real glimpse at our relationship. It was only for one season and people were bound to find out anyway.

“What?” I asked, trying to play dumb but this time Brie took a turn to hit me in the arm.

“When the hell did you start dating Dean?” She asked, placing her hands on her hips.

I shrugged, rubbing my arms in the spots they’ve hit. “Chill - I don’t know exactly when. We just were talking all the time and then we were together all the time, and then we bought a house - it just kinda happened.”

“You BOUGHT the house?! Buying a house with someone doesn’t just ‘kinda’ happen, Y/N” Nikki said wide-eyed. “How could you keep this from us?”

“Is that why you never invite us over to visit you in Vegas?” Brie asked, just as bewildered.

“You’ve literally watched me flirt with Dean every chance I get - how could you never have said anything?!” Renee said while Naomi and Natalya laughed.

“Guys relax - it’s not that serious.” I shook my head. “Dean and I -” “How could you call that not being serious?!” Nikki interrupted.

“No - not that - it’s just -”

“Just what?” They said together, interrupting me again.

“Woah - what’s going on in here?” Dean asked, stepping into the room with Roman.

I opened my mouth to speak but Brie answered instead. “You’ve been dating Y/N this whole time?!”

He looked at me instantly then at the TV with a Total Divas screen paused.

“Oh.” Dean shrugged, eatting something then coming around to throw his arm over my shoulder, offering me some of the starburst chews he had in his hand. “Well guess the cat’s outta the bag.”

“You guys are so cute together! How could you keep this from everybody?” Nattie asked looking between the two of us. I grabbed a piece of candy, tossing it into my mouth before looking at everyone. “Guys - it’s not a big deal. We just went with the flow, this is where it led us. We just share so much of everything all the time, we wanted to keep this between us. And I mean, Brie - you’re so caught up with Brian and Nikki’s so caught up with John, all you guys do is talk about them to anyone that’ll listen. I’ve just never been like that. What Dean and I have …”

“Is pretty kickass.” Dean said, finishing my sentence as he looked down at me with a smile.

“That is adorable.” Naomi nodded. “Good for you guys.”

“I just feel like we’re so out of touch with our own sister.” Brie pouted.

“Everything just makes so much sense now.” Nikki finally gave in with a small smile. “Missing from holiday get togethers - never hanging out after work…” “We just wanted to keep it to ourselves for a little while.” I looked up at Dean, turning to wrap my arms around his waist as he hugged me into his chest. “We knew you’d have to find out eventually and we figured at least this way we could show you instead.

Dean smiled down at me, leaning his head down to kiss me for the first time in front of people. “What can I say, I wanted her to myself for a little while. I love her.”

“AWWWWH!” They all said, watching us.

I kissed him back as my cheeks flushed red in blush before everyone came around to hug us.

**GIFS not mine

I hope you enjoyed, as always - let me know if you have a request.

[just-hazardous-thoughts]

Yet another confusing time of nothingness but not despair

I’m not depressed. It’s not the nothingness I’ve known a few years ago where nothing has taste and there’s a hole in your body and your soul. Nope. It’s just, weird af.

This time there’s no hole and empty sorrow. The best I can describe it is sitting on a chair, doing stuff, living, blinking, breathing but laughing at the thought that something is going on - obviously - that I can’t put my finger on. It’s weird but I’ll take it over listening my depressive playlist. It’s nicer to laugh.

So, 2021 onwards. Something big happened already, only one day after it started. I lost my V card. Who would’ve thought. Not me. I was the first surprised. Still wonder if it really happened to be honest. Been 4 days and I’m in a weird state of mind. At first I felt very awkward and ashamed for some reasons (and I still do to an extent). It wasn’t so much about the realisation, it was never a big deal for me but not to be seen as the prude and dysfunctional girl out of my girlfriends is kinda nice so I guess I can cross that of my list. But at the same time, idk. It was kinda boring and left me thinking "so what’s the big deal?". Didn’t really left me wanting more. I have more fun on my own.

Usually I’m all opened about what to write even without focus but this time it’s really hard to gather stuff. Feels like I want to hide them from myself even. But gonna force myself to expand a bit. It’s important stuff in a way.

So what happened.

Don’t really remember but I guess once again I felt lonely one night and desperate enough to swipe some guys on Tinder. It’s kinda my thing. It’s all alright until it isn’t and I feel a surge of swipe to justify that I’m at least trying to "fix" or at least improve my condition.

Anyways, ended up on some guy that was way too handsome to skip but I knew nothing would come of it since he was like 300km from me. Wanted to keep it as collection I guess. I try to keep the ones I find attractive to figure out "my type". Kinda silly.

Then, ofc, the one you expect the least is always the one to talk back. It wasn’t a striking message, he commented about my septum, and it just went on from that. Been talking for a month+ now (since the start of December) and I liked how it’s always been sporadic messages. Like not the kind where you send messages, get some answer back in 5mn and discuss live (like I do everyday on Discord). It’s way more sparse and I like it cause I can’t be dedicated to spending my whole life texting (even tho I do it on Discord but it feels different?).

Tbh I’ve never been "compelled" to this person like waiting his messages in anticipation or anything. Always been detached. Was the same with the guy I was texting before this summer and even before. It’s kinda nice cause there’s not much at stake. If he ever ghosts, it doesn’t really matter. But it’s also scaring me. Do I have a broken heart or what? I can’t seem to feel things. Apart from crushes (which are insignificant) and that one coworker I hanged out with, I’ve never been silly over texts. I would prefer to be. At least it makes you feel something. For sure at least I don’t get hurt, but I feel like a ghost.

Onwards. We finally decided to meet. Wasn’t particularly pleased to have him over my place cause I’ve never invited strangers there and what if it was awkward? At least in public you’re safe and if it goes terrible you can just leave and pretend to have something to do after to move on. Home, if you want an escape, you kinda have to be blunt and ask the person to go away or bare with it.

Sex was off the table - at least in my mind, even wore not sexy clothes and unmatched undies -. I thought I had been clear about that since I had said something like "Sure why not but only to get to know each other". Guess it had been taken in another way that what I was originally meaning.

Fatidic day comes, obligatory stress before a date, make yourself extra pretty. He arrives, super handsome, smells good, is nice. I make cocktails, he shakes them, we drink, it’s fine. But, cause there’s always a but, it seems so formal. Like I’m trying to be a good date and be ultra dynamic in the conversation but it feels like I’m leading too much and he’s not talking an awful lot, not even asking about me. Super different from how he was texting. I try to not mind it too much.

It gets physical at some point, he makes me hop on him, take me into his arms until he finally decides to go down on me and go PIV. It’s not like I didn’t want to and was forced to do so, I just let it happen. But I would’ve preferred it another way? Like further down the line? First talk a lot more and get a feel of each other, then eventually leading to that. Introducing that so fast, so quick made the possible spark die for me. I felt awkward and like nothing could go on from that point but to go the casual sex route or stop it there. I guess it made me realise that I’m really looking for a relationship. Prior to that I always said I wanted to see how things go into dating, so not specifically a relationship but that’s exactly what happened and now I know.

So here we are, the aftermath. Kinda ghosted him for two days. He was obviously super happy about what happened and casual about it but I wasn’t. So expressed that it made me uncomfortable and so forth. He said he was sorry and wasn’t usually like that… Wanted me to give him a second chance. Debated for a whole lot of time in my head, basically lost my peaceful sleep times for days now (and it’s still ongoing). Decided on a "maybe". And now we’re back to texting, more deep stuff, less emotes. Idk how I feel about that. I don’t know anything anymore.

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So I left this note unfinished kinda? But it’s an unfinished business so that’s fine. One week later. Where we at?

We continued texting and I guess the more time past the more I was forgetting about our first date, moving on in a kinda way. Focusing on other stuffs basically even tho that’s the core of my life rn. Like overthinking, thinking and thinking again about all this.

Eventually he asked if he could come back this weekend and I was like "mmmh maybe?", because I really was like maybe. Wasn’t really trying to tease him, just wasn’t sure. But in my mind, I was accepting that he’d come already. So fast-forward, second date planned on Sunday (first one was Saturday the week before). He asked if he could come a bit earlier to spend more time, and I agreed. Only if he didn’t come at like 9am or something cause y’a know, still need to make myself pretty and clean my apartment. Important stuff to me.

Today is Monday, so it was yesterday. What happened? Juicy.

It was kinda awkward at first, ngl. When he said he was there and I had to open the door to go get hime, I got this huge wave of stress washing over me and I remember saying out loud “Wtf am I even doing”, but then it was too late and it was happening so good fucking luck me.

He brought beers and a pizza (for him, since I hate it, he knew it). We just started to drink and talk casually, but there were these awkward silences at times. But props to him in some ways cause he always found a way to make a comeback somehow, and make it less awkward, and be physical - not always sex-driven but just make these kinda approaches that are like closing the gap between strangers? -.

We then decided to watch horror movies. And I think that was my favourite part. It was really just chilling you know. It was cute. We just cuddled on the couch and he tried a move but I said "not today". Cause that was my mindset for real this time. And as first date didn’t go as planned my battle plan for this one would have to hold. If no sex on second date, and he still stays in my radar it kinda seals the deal in a way? Not like it’s all perfect and chill, for all I know we’re not exclusive or anything so doesn’t prove much, but that he wants to stick around a bit? And I like that idea. So he was like "ok ok, I’ll slow down", with a cute voice. And yeah, that was a super nice moment that I really enjoyed actually. I remember thinking into his arms like "Okay, I could live with that, it’s kinda nice, could fall asleep here". He actually fell asleep for a while.

It wasn’t all perfect ok? There’s already some stuff bothering me, probably some bothers him too, but nothing is perfect. Kinda have to focus on the good stuff.

It’s kind of all new to me. Never went this far into any relationship really. So, I’m trying to handle things differently too? Like, I didn’t say to my friends - best friends - that I saw him again, all that happened yesterday. Cause, I guess I kinda wanna keep it to myself till I know where it’s going? If it ever goes somewhere anyway. Like I’ve always been to prone to talk about my dates - that are so few -, and nothing good ever came of it so I just don’t wanna discuss duds - not dudes, duds, like the empty fake shit - anymore?

I really wish I could talk to them about it now, cause it’s so fresh and new and he doesn’t answer me cause something happened in the army - cause he’s in the army - and he had to give his phone away at a certain point and he said he didn’t knew when he would get it back?

SO. Either, this could be a lie and he’s ghosting me. Which would be weird, considering how things went - he said “Today was a good day” in a vocal note yesterday while he was being punished -, but, you never know. Or, it’s the truth and it sucks cause I kinda wish we would have talked today. I mean, happened in the past where he was punished and stuff so it’s believable.

But it’s really one of the two. And it bothers me, and I wish I knew. Cause I’m all alone with my thoughts rn, and that’s why I picked this again cause I can’t talk to him, can’t - don’t wan’t - to talk to my friends about it, really can’t talk to my parents about it so I feel alone.

But on another note, reverse psychology really works on me lol. Kept checking my phone all day when usually he sends messages and I kinda glide over it cause I don’t wanna make it my priority, but clearly today there’s been a shift. Not to say it’ll remain if he ever answers - cause yeah, I cracked and sent a message -. So yeah guys, I’m one of those annoying chicks.

Yeaaaah, I definitely listened to my sad playlist today. Don’t judge. But also, I’m having my periods - which is great, cause I was concerned - but also make this day sucks even more cause it hurts. But at least the pain kinda distracts me. Idk, it’s weird to explain.