#dude i am forever caught in a loop of i need to work i need to draw i need to write my stories i need to be making something

[krembearry]

arahcuhghsuisk;ld

[ghostgothgeek]

Chaos.

Another for the Phic Phight! This one kinda combines two prompts and I had so much fun writing it! In this, Danny and Tucker don’t know Sam plays video games yet. 5,063 words.

"What do you mean you don’t feel the same way? We´ve had a mutual crush on each other for years." Sam says angrily after finally confessing her love to him. But Danny´s heart was beating hard for someone else entirely. Prompt by phantomfana. 

Danny wants to ask his crush to the upcoming school dance. Prompt by Rikaleeta.

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It was another long night of ghost hunting for Danny. Technus took up the first part of the night, trying to take over the park’s new security system. Tucker was fortunately still awake to help him out with that. Then Johnny and Kitty rolled in, but they weren’t looking for trouble, they just wanted a date night and swore they wouldn’t be a problem. Apparently Fridays were their days off for “everything but each other”. Danny was a romantic, but he didn’t know if this was sweet or nauseating. Ember had put up a good fight, though. He was proud he only had one injury to tend to. He had dodged most of her attacks, but she was still a pretty advanced ghost. And, of course, Danny had caught the Box Ghost six, count them, SIX times. How did he always manage to get out?! He wasn’t difficult to take down, he was just a pest. 

Danny sighed as he sat down at his computer chair. It was only 12:30 am, and it was a Friday. He could sleep in tomorrow and he deserved at least a couple hours of fun. He logged into his online gaming account and saw Tucker was online. Figures. He pulled up the chat anyway. 

Astrohaunt: Hey Tuck. Still up?

Technopedia: You know it. Chaos signed on about a half hour ago and I’m not passing up the opportunity.

Astrohaunt: Dude is so good it’s unreal!

Technopedia: He goes to our school, I tracked one of his IP addresses and he logged in at school a few times.

Astrohaunt: Tucker wtf. That’s creepy!

Technopedia: I just want to make sure Chaos is actually a kid and not Lancer again!

Astrohaunt: I still can’t wrap my mind around Lancer playing Doomed…

Technopedia: Same. But Chaos IP is different from Lancer, so we good. Unless more teachers play Doomed.

Astrohaunt: I hate you for putting that image into my brain.

Technopedia: Sorry dude. But quick come join before someone else gets Chaos.

Danny, Tucker, and Chaos had made a great team. Whenever Chaos was around, they were actually able to progress through the game. They played several rounds until Tucker was caught by his mom and was forced to sign off, but Danny and Chaos kept playing. 

TeamChaos: Hey, what’s up?

Astrohaunt: Omg dude you’re so awesome. 

TeamChaos: Ha, thanks. Gotta blow off steam somehow. 

Astrohaunt: Tell me about it! Between Lancer’s three projects and midterms and...other stuff...this is my only time to actually chill. I’ve been so stressed!

TeamChaos: Same. I did finish one of the projects though. I’m always here if you need to talk, you know. 

Astrohaunt: Wow, I may just take you up on that offer. I’ve had a rough night.

TeamChaos: Lay it on me.

And so Danny, sparing the ghost hunting details, stayed up chatting with Chaos until 5 am. He got along really well with the guy, they had a lot of similar interests. This was just the first of many up-all-night conversations they shared. After a few months, Danny felt a special connection with Chaos, and yet, he didn’t even know his name! 

Astrohaunt: We’ve been talking all these months and I still don’t know your name. I’m Danny. 

TeamChaos: Oh, thought you knew. It’s Sam!

Astrohaunt: Hey! One of my best friends is named Sam! 

TeamChaos: You don’t say!!!

The next day at school, Danny pulled Tucker over to him, whispering, “Dude, help. I think I might be gay....” 

“What?!” Tucker shouted.

“Quiet, Tuck!” 

“Okay, well uh...why?” Tucker sent him a weird look and took a step back. 

“No, not you. Chaos. I think I have a crush on Chaos.” Danny ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know what to do! I never thought I’d be...you know. Chaos and I just have good conversations and he’s always there to listen to me when I need to vent. I thought maybe I found another best friend but...this is different. Chaos is so cool and I’m crushing and I don’t even know who he is or what he looks like! Or if he feels the same way! Maybe I’m just stupid and-”

“Dude, chill. You’re jumping too far ahead of yourself. Whichever way you, you know, swing...I’m still your best friend.” Tucker pulled out his PDA. “Let me see what I can find out. I know Chaos goes to our school.”

“Thanks, Tuck. As if being half ghost wasn’t hard enough! Oh, and he’s in our class, because he’s talked me through assignments and knows what they are and stuff. He’s almost as good as explaining things as Sam. Crap...Sam. Don’t tell her about this!” Danny started fidgeting. 

“Well,” Tucker raised his eyebrows in surprise, “I can tell you with absolute certainty that Chaos is definitely a girl.” 

“You found out who Chaos is?!” 

“What, like it’s hard?” Tucker chuckled. “I traced the IP addresses she uses. I know who she is. So do you,” Tucker smirked, “It shocked me at first, but it makes total sense! And I can totally see why you like her.” 

“Really?” Danny let out a breath in relief. “Okay that makes me feel a lot better...hey, maybe I can ask Chaos to the dance next Saturday!” 

Tucker rested a hand on Danny’s shoulder. “Go for it. Ask Sam. I’m almost positive she’ll say yes.”

“Okay, I will...wait, not Sam! Chaos!” Danny clarified. “Well, actually, I think Chaos told me her name was Sam. Ha, small world. I can’t wait to introduce Sam to Sam. I think they would really get along.” 

Tucker busted out laughing, “Oh, dude. You go ahead and do that.” He left Danny standing there in the hallway, still laughing all the way to his next class.

Danny, a bit confused by Tucker’s laughter, shook his head and smiled to himself. Okay, good. He’d had enough identity crises to fill a lifetime. Chaos was definitely a girl. Now if he just knew Chaos returned his feelings, things might actually work out for him this time and he could actually have a girlfriend.

Meanwhile, Sam was having an internal debate of her own. Sitting in a class where the teacher couldn’t give two shits about what the students were doing, she had always used this class as her thinking time. Usually her thinking-about-Danny time. She nervously clicked her pen as she thought about recent events. 

She and Danny spent so much time chatting online when they weren’t hanging out in person. Danny was a little bit more bold online, probably because he didn’t have to interact face-to-face or risk his pants falling down in public again. Online, they talked about everything. No topic was off limits. Plus, Sam felt like their friendship had only grown even stronger when they could chat online and not have to worry about blushing or getting teased by Tucker. Chatting online took away all the pressure and made it much easier to connect with Danny. 

Danny hadn’t said anything yet, of course. He was probably scared. Hell, she was scared. She was already so in love with him, and getting closer online only further solidified that fact. She had never been in love before, and even though she hunts ghosts, this was more terrifying! She was fairly certain he returned her feelings, but both were too chicken to actually make that final step. They’ve been best friends forever. She didn’t want to mess up their already great dynamic or force Tucker to be the third wheel, though he did insist he was more than okay with that and encouraged them to finally get together. 

Sam stopped clicking her pen as she suddenly remembered it was senior year. They hadn’t picked colleges yet, but whether they ended up going to the same school or not, things were going to change. Danny was very attractive, and going off to college meant girls may actually approach him when they didn’t know his parents were ghost fighters. The fact had never bothered Sam, but she did kind of like how it kept most girls at school from asking him out or giving him attention. Valerie had been a challenge, especially because she was a ghost hunter herself and probably wanted to get tips from his parents. Sam was glad that relationship ended relatively early. It was too hard on her. Joyous or not, though, she was still mad at Valerie for how she broke his heart. 

But that was 2 years ago. They had all moved on and friendships were more or less mended across the board. This made Sam glance at her favorite picture of her and Danny. Tucker had taken the candid picture and it was now her phone’s background. In it, Danny was giving Sam a piggyback ride. Her arms were lightly strung around his neck, legs looped around his waist. Danny had kept going in the opposite direction Sam told him to go, which frustrated her but also made her laugh. She had rested her chin on his shoulder, her face pressed right up against his. Danny was looking at her and Tucker had captured that rare moment when Sam had a huge grin on her face, still laughing. She smiled at the picture. They would be okay no matter what. Their friendship would survive.

Anyway, Sam also realized she had already come close to losing Danny, in more ways than one. Whether it was to other girls or a ghost, there was always that anxiety stirring in her head that she could lose him entirely some day. Life was too short. She needed to take the plunge for both of them and just get them both over this hurdle, and they could finally, finally, actually get together. 

Sam made her decision. It was now or never. She was going to tell him. Today. The trio was meeting up at Danny’s house later anyway, and if she got there early enough, she could talk to him before Tucker showed up and teased them about it. Sam firmly nodded her head to herself, a confirmation of her decision. It was finally time.

After school, Danny was pacing in his room, trying to figure out how he wanted to do this. Asking a girl to the dance wasn’t a huge deal, and yet at the same time, it was. He would rather ask in person, but he still didn’t know what Chaos looked like, so asking in person seemed to be off the table. He could look in the yearbook for all the girls named Sam at their school. He could already omit one Sam Manson from that list. How many Sams could possibly attend their school? It would be easier to ask Tucker, though. Tucker already knew who she was. Sam and Tucker were on their way over right now. When Sam wasn’t paying attention, he could ask Tucker for Sam’s full name. 

Chaos Sam, not best friend Sam. God, this was so confusing. Why were girls so hard for him? Freshman year, Paulina only liked his ghost half and wouldn’t give his human half the time of day. Sophomore year, Valerie hated his ghost half and that hatred was more important to her than her feelings for his human half. Junior year, he had been denying that he was in love with his best friend. And now that he had finally accepted that he did like his best friend as much more than a friend, a new girl entered the picture and he now found himself trying to choose between two Sams. Because it apparently wasn’t hard enough for him already to make the biggest and most important change he could possibly make in a friendship, let’s add another crush to the mix and give them the same name.

Sam. Best friend Sam - that’s who he was planning on asking originally, even if he chickened out and had to ask her as a friend instead. Plus, he and Sam had somehow gotten closer recently, and he was pretty sure she liked him. Sure, it was only because Tucker told him so, but it was a possibility. The thing was, he didn’t want to ruin things. Especially because he truly didn’t know how Sam, best friend Sam, felt about him. She was a tough and courageous girl, surely she would have said something by now if it were true. So Tucker must be pulling his leg.

But he did have another option - Chaos Sam, who may actually return his feelings. Sure, the feelings weren’t nearly as strong as what he felt for his best friend, but the feelings were still there. Plus, if he got rejected by Chaos, it would be less heartbreaking than being rejected by Sam, someone he had known for years rather than months. He could deal with losing a newer friend, but not one of his best friends. Sam was too important and he knew he needed her in his life.

Danny sighed. This was really hard, but he made a decision. It was easier to go with Chaos than risk ruining things with Sam. Danny had enough drama going on in his life already, he needed an easy win. 

He broke from his thoughts when the doorbell rang. He ran downstairs and opened it, only slightly surprised to see Sam there. She was usually early for things. He and Tuck were more prone to being late. 

“Hey, Sam. Come on in!” Danny moved so Sam could enter his house. He shut the door and followed her upstairs and back to his room as she returned his greeting. She was pacing the same path he just had, muttering quietly to herself. She looked nervous. “Something on your mind?” 

Sam was startled out of her thoughts. “Huh? Oh yeah.” She noticed his disheveled appearance, also noting he was fidgety. Was he going to do what she was about to do? “What about you, you look like you’ve been thinking a little too hard about something.” She smiled softly. 

Danny chuckled, “Yeah, but it’ll resolve itself soon. I’ll worry about it after the movies. Tuck should be here any second. Oh, but I’m glad you’re early. Can you help me with something quick?” 

“Of course.” Sam followed him to his desk, smiling and rolling her eyes when he pointed to a homework problem. “I should have known.” 

Danny gave her a lopsided smile and watched as she showed him how to do the problem in her perfect handwriting. It took no more than a couple of minutes. Now, they were just waiting for Tucker to arrive. 

Sam looked at the time. He would be here soon. She needed to do this now. She needed to tell Danny. She couldn’t wait until after the movies for him to tell her. She had already waited long enough and couldn’t bear another second.

“Danny, can I talk to you for a second?” She sat down on his bed and gestured for him to do the same. 

Danny could sense the seriousness in her voice, and nodded anxiously. He was scared when Sam was serious about things. It was usually something bad.

“Danny…” She decided to get straight to the point. “I like you. As in like-like you. More than like, and more than a friend. And we’ve been doing this dancing around for at least 4 years now and I’m sick of it. I just want to be with you already. What do you say?” Sam held her breath as she waited for Danny to answer. 

He stared at her with wide eyes before nervously rubbing the back of his neck and turning his attention to his shoes, avoiding eye contact with the goth. God, why him?! He had stupidly thought, for once, things would be easier for him this time. He had already sent an offline message to Chaos that he wanted to ask her something, and then Sam had to come along and tell him what he had wanted to hear for some time now. But he couldn’t blow Chaos off when he had already somewhat asked. Of course, his life just had to be complicated every step of the way. He really liked both girls and didn’t want to hurt his best friend. Regardless, he had to be honest. He owed Sam that much. “Well, I mean, yeah, but…” 

“But what?” Sam whispered, clearly already upset. Fuck. Fuck fuck FUCK. This was exactly what he didn’t want to happen. He decided to try going with Chaos so he could avoid heartbreak from his best friend. The very thing he had been so afraid of, he was doing to her right now. 

Danny sighed again. “But I can’t. I’m so sorry, Sam.” It was hard to choke out, but he said it, and he felt terrible. He pressed his lips together and kept staring at his shoes until Sam lifted his chin up, forcing him to look at her. 

“What do you mean you don’t feel the same way? We’ve had mutual crushes on each other for years!” Sam said angrily, feeling her heart break as her best friend and love of her life rejected her confession of love. She was so sure he returned her feelings! Especially after all the great conversations they had shared online these last few months. “Or, at least, I thought we did.” Tears swelled in her eyes. Did he lead her on? “I-I need an explanation, Danny,” she quietly stated after he didn’t continue. 

Danny frowned and his heart ached. He didn’t want to hurt his best friend like this. Hell, he really liked her! Of course their crushes were mutual! And if this had happened 6 months ago instead of now, he would have jumped at the chance. But now...now he had Chaos and already forced himself to stick with his decision. It was easy with Chaos; there was no friendship to risk, no denying of being lovebirds or brushing off kisses as fakeout makeouts. Plus, he couldn’t lie to his best friend. She would know if he was lying. And he already told himself she deserved the truth. “There’s...someone else…” 

“What?” Sam whispered before turning angry again, “Paulina? Valerie? Star?” she spat out. 

Danny shook his head, “Ew, no...it’s someone I met online...I’m so sorry, Sam. I like you a lot, I really do, but I think I’ve already come to the conclusion that I like this girl I met online, Chaos, and I have to try to see that through.” 

Many emotions crossed Sam’s face as she pieced together what he just said. At first she was upset, but as he explained himself, she felt disbelief, confusion, anger, and finally, hope. He couldn’t really be that clueless, right? “Show me.” 

“Huh? I mean, I don’t actually know what she looks like, but we message every night and she really understands me! I know it sounds ridiculous, but-” 

“Show me,” Sam repeated. “Show me her profile.” 

“You’re not going to hurt her, are you?” Danny questioned cautiously.

“No, of course not. Just shut up and show me the profile.” Sam was more calm now, and that was kind of scary. Even though Sam said she wouldn’t hurt Chaos, he didn’t want to give her the chance. But he knew how stubborn his friend was, and eventually in whatever way, she would force the information out of him. 

Danny sighed and pulled up the profile to show Sam. “I’m sorry, Sam. I’m still your best frien-” 

“Shut up.” Sam scrolled through what Danny pulled up for her and pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration. Closing her eyes slowly, she took a deep breath. “Didn’t Chaos tell you her name?” 

“Uh,” Danny thought, “oh yeah! She said her name was Sam, because I thought she was a boy at first and I had an existential crisis, but then Tucker told me-” 

“Danny. I’m Sam.” 

“No I know, and sure it’ll be a little weird cause you’re Sam and she’s Sam, it’s confusing, but I-” 

Sam interrupted him once again. She could hear Tucker’s footsteps approaching. She was running out of time to not make this a spectacle. “No, Danny. Chaos. Sam. Me. I’m Sam. I am Sam,” 

Tucker only heard the tail end of the conversation as he entered the room. Never able to pass up a comedic opportunity, he smirked and added “I am Sam. Sam I am. I do not like green eggs and ham!” 

It was suddenly silent in the room as his friends seized conversation and glared at him. Oops. 

“Oh, am I interrupting something?” Tucker could see the fire in Sam’s eyes. “Uh, oh wait I forgot my...sock. I’ll be downstairs!” He raced out of the room.

Sam turned her attention back to Danny. “No, you stupid fucking MORON. I am Chaos. You’ve been talking to me the whole time. I thought you knew that!” Danny stared at her blankly until she pulled out her phone and he watched her log into her account, proving it to him. Sure enough, it was Chaos’s profile. He could see all the direct messages between them, including his offline message about wanting to ask her something.

“Wait, you? You’re Sam? I mean, Chaos? I mean Sam?” Danny looked back and forth between the profile and his best friend. 

“UGH!” Sam shouted as she threw her hands in the air. “Yes, Danny. That’s me! Did you really not notice that Chaos was the same age as me and a girl who goes to our school? We have the same name and interests! Didn’t you wonder why it was so easy to talk right off the bat? I thought you put that all together and us just pretending to not know each other was a little bit you were trying to do or something!” 

Danny stared at her as he continued to piece it all together. He was definitely embarrassed. He felt so stupid. How could he not tell that Chaos was Sam, his best friend since 7th grade? Talk about being totally clueless. 

Wait. Clueless? Well, fuck! He got the nickname now! 

His eyes flickered back and forth as he thought everything through. Eventually, he started to crack a smile. “Wait, so I’ve had a crush on you and also you? You’re the same person! This is great! Do you know what this means?!” 

Sam slapped her forehead and began walking downstairs. “I don’t even know if this is worth it anymore…” 

“Wait, how come Tuck and I never knew you played video games! We can enter team tournaments! You’re so good!” Danny chased after her. 

Tucker watched as Sam grumbled about Danny caring more about video games than her. An excited Danny was right on her tail. 

“Tucker! Sam is Chaos! I’ve been in love with Sam this whole time!” Danny explained. 

“Tucker, I need you to refrain me from slapping his stupid clueless face,” Sam started. 

“Wait, you didn’t know Sam was Chaos? Dude! I thought I was obvious about that!” Tucker began laughing at Danny. 

“I know, so did I.” Sam crossed her arms over her chest. 

“Danny, you can calculate levels of rocket fuel and figure out how to get us to Mercury or something,” Tucker started. 

“Mars, actually,” Danny corrected. 

“But you can’t figure out that your best friend and your crush are the same person? You’re more than Captain Clueless, you’re like….Lieutenant Clueless? That’s like, bigger right?” Tucker continued. 

“I don’t think that’s how it works, Tuck,” Sam chimed in. 

“Shut up Sam, this isn’t about you,” Tucker immediately stopped his train of thought when he felt Sam glaring daggers at him. “Heh, uh. Except it does. It actually has nothing to do with me. I’m sorry I told you to shut up, please don’t hurt me!” He threw his hands up in front of himself in defense. 

“Relax, Tucker. I’m more angry with this fucking dingus,” she pointed her thumb in Danny’s direction. 

The halfa was about to protest, then closed his mouth. “That’s fair, I deserve that.” 

“I can’t even look at you right now. You scared me! I poured out my emotions to you. I thought you were rejecting me and that I would have to change my name and move to a different country! Wait, are you still rejecting me?” Sam stopped her pacing to look at him. 

“Of course not, Sammy!” 

“Oh don’t you ‘Sammy’ me! I told you I love you, you stupid fucking idiot!” Sam began throwing pillows at Danny, who expertly dodged them (though as a result, Tucker got hit in the face by one). 

“Technically, you didn’t say ‘love’ you said ‘like’”, Danny offered as Tucker shook his head and slashed finger across his neck, signaling Danny to stop talking. 

“Oh, I’m sorry! This is all my fault! I’m going to go jump off a cliff now!” Sam growled and Danny let out a small “oomph” as one of the pillows finally got him. 

“I’m out. Good luck, bro!” Tucker quickly slipped out the door, leaving Danny and Sam alone. 

Sam was about to follow Tucker out when Danny stopped her, “please don’t leave!” She still had angry tears in her eyes. He frowned. This was not how he expected things to go. She watched him for a few seconds before sitting down on the couch, refusing to look at him. “Sam I’m so sorry, this is just a huge misunderstanding.”

“No, Danny. It’s not. You were going to turn me down to go out with someone else.”

“But that someone was still you!”

“Yeah, but you didn’t know that! We’ve been friends for years, and you were more interested in someone you just met a few months ago! I don’t want to be anyone’s second choice, Danny! I’ve been standing by for years as you continuously chose other girls over me. I thought we were done with that, and that you were finally choosing me first, but you won’t and you never will and I’m so stupid.” Sam put her head in her hands as she tried her hardest not to let tears fall. 

And that was when he finally figured it out. It wasn’t just the moment of rejection, it was years of rejection, and at her biggest confession, she still thought he was choosing someone over her. Not to mention, Tucker witnessed most of the conversation. Sam rarely showed her emotions. She always had her heart guarded, and he knew this. Tucker knew this. Hell, she didn’t even tell them she was rich until after a few years of friendship. It took them a while to get her to open up to them. She was a pretty private person. She was probably already hurt like this before. And now, she was probably embarrassed.

“You’re definitely not stupid. I’m stupid. I should have known it was you. That was actually what I really liked about Chaos, she reminded me of you.” 

Sam forced a small sarcastic laugh, “Yeah, right.” 

“No really,” Danny sat on the couch next to her and grabbed her hand, placing it in both of his. “Sam, you’re absolutely incredible. How dumb would I have to be to not notice?” Sam gave him a pointed look. “Okay yeah but it’s not the way you think it is. I liked Chaos because she was a lot like you. She reminded me of you. And it just seemed easier to go with her because she was basically you, but she and I didn’t have a really great friendship that could have gotten ruined if we broke up or something. I could live without her, but I can’t live without you. You’re always my number one. Always have been, always will be. Even if I did just fuck everything up. I’m so sorry, Sam. I’m ready to be with you, if you’ll still have me.” 

Sam stayed silent and stared at her lap, processing this new information. Of course she would forgive him; she always did. She just needed a little time. 

Danny was getting nervous that he really did fuck this up for good. This was so fucking important! He couldn’t risk fucking this up! Sensing her hesitation, Danny tried one more thing to get her back. One thing he hasn’t done before. One thing he just learned how to perfect.  

“Sammy, I’m sorry,” a duplicate popped up next to her on the other side of the couch, startling her. 

“Please forgive me?” Another duplicate was floating in front of her, hanging upside down, hair flopping all over the place. 

“I know I’m a dummy but,” Sam snapped her head towards a third duplicate. 

“I’m only a dummy because I’m in love. With you,” the real Danny finished. Sam looked back and forth between all the Dannys.  

“We’re sorry, Sammy,” all the duplicates said at once. 

Sam was trying really hard to hold back a smile. “You learned how to duplicate,” she stated simply. 

Original Danny grabbed her hands. “Sam. I will make this up to you. I promise.” 

She could hear the determination in his voice and sighed. “You better.” 

Danny smiled and hugged her. “Thankyouthankyouthankyou!!! I love you so much!”

Sam pushed him off of her. “I love you too, you fucking idiot.” 

“But I get to be your idiot!” Sam couldn’t hold her laughter back anymore. “Oh!” Danny shouted, “Will you go to the dance with me? Please?” 

Sam pretended to ponder the answer before saying “alright”. 

“Yay!” All 4 Dannys cheered. The duplicates on either side of her kissed her cheeks as the real Danny kissed her forehead tenderly. The final duplicate, feeling left out, squeezed his way in to give her a hug. 

Sam was now roaring with laughter before kissing the real Danny sweetly. “You know, duplicates won’t always get you out of trouble,” she warned. 

“Yeah, but they could come in handy for other things,” he wagged his eyebrows up and down suggestively before passionately kissing her, the duplicates kissing her neck and touching her in near-dangerous places. 

Sam bit back a moan, eyes lustful before smirking, “I think you just found a way to make it up to me.” She began dragging the real Danny and one of his duplicates back to his room. Fuck the movies.

[starlost-andfound]

january / d.j.s (part 1)

“the night that you flirted with me for 20 seconds and i became obsessed with you forever”

Inspired by Brooklyn 99 and ‘Lotus Inn’ by Why Don’t We

A/N: A little special note for @chilling-seavey who was the real inspiration behind my writing. This one is for you ❤️❤️❤️

Word Count: 774 words

January 14th, 2019 [01:05 AM]

Jonah and Daniel sat at the table in their hotel room, with Daniel’s make-shift studio setup laid out across the wooden surface. Jonah laid back in his chair with a guitar in his hands, lazily strumming. Across from him, Daniel browsed the software on his laptop, searching for a beat to add to their song.

“We could try this,” a music loop played on the speakers of his device, filling the air with a beat.

Jonah set the guitar aside and yawned, “Can you play that with the vocals?”

Daniel nodded and played the beat again, this time with their pre-recorded vocals. They both shot each other a knowing glance before Daniel sighed, pausing the music.

“Definitely does not work,” he mumbled, ruffling the already messy strands of brown hair on his head.

“Don’t overthink it, dude,” Jonah assured Daniel. “We’ll get it at some point.”

Daniel sighed as Jonah got up and picked up his phone. He cursed as the time flashed on the screen, “We should get some rest, we’re both pretty jetlagged and we have a sound check in 6 hours. ‘Night, Daniel.”

Daniel watched as Jonah shuffled out the hotel room, mumbling a reply before the door shut. He turned back to his music setup. The layout of the unproduced song on his laptop burning into his mind. He glanced at the time on his laptop. 1:15 AM. He had to get some sleep, he knew it, but the yearning feeling in his chest urged him to continue.

Maybe, you just need a walk, to refresh your mind. Daniel picked out the first beanie he could find and a face mask to avoid being recognized. Wearing his disguise and the free hotel slippers, he shuffled out of his room, pocketing the room key and his phone.

His feet carried him to the elevators but along the way another door caught his eye. The door easily blended in with the similar coloured beige wall but what stood out was the bright red lettering on the glass, “TO THE ROOFTOP”. Daniel checked either side of the hall before sneaking through. He climbed up the flight of stairs before pushing open another door.

Daniel gasped at the view as he walked out onto the roof; an ocean of lights decorating the sleeping city. He pulled down his mask and stopped to admire the sight when he heard a sudden noise. He turned to the source of the voice. A girl sat a few feet away from him, her back rested against a block on the roof. She held a bottle in their hand, taking occasional sips. Who would be out here drinking at 1 in the morning? He frowned, tilting his head as he noticed her outfit - a silky silver dress, held together by two straps on the shoulders. How is she even able to manage out here in this weather?

A gust of wind blew and he shivered, pulling his sweater sleeves over his hands. Daniel watched the stranger across from him with curious eyes.

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s rude to stare?”

He apologized, quickly looking at his feet like they were the most interesting thing in the world.

He looked up again, at the girl, “I was just wondering how you were even up here in this weather.”

He gestured to her attire, “You’re not exactly covered...”, he trailed off as she arched a brow with a smirk on her lips.

“Covered?”

He gulped, “ No! It’s nothing like that, I promise! I meant, you know...you’re not warm enough!”

The stranger laughed, “I know, I was only messing with you. Thank you for your concern. Want some?”, she gestured at the bottle.

Daniel shook his head, ”Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to accept anything from strangers?”

The stranger laughed, “The name’s y/n and I’m out here drinking because I’m sad. My friends ditched me. On my birthday.”

Daniel winced, “Ouch, I’m sorry. Happy birthday, by the way. I’m Daniel and I’m out here because I’m working on some mus- a project,” he cleared his throat, “for work and nothing’s really working like I want it to.”

Y/n grinned, “See, now we’re not strangers anymore! So, Daniel, are you still up for my offer?”, she lifted the bottle.

Daniel huffed, sitting down next to her. He lifted the bottle, “What is this anyways?”.

Y/n shrugged, “Just picked up the first bottle I saw at the bar. The bartender pitied me and let me take it.”

Daniel read the label, The Purple Drink.  

He brought the bottle to his lips, “Just one sip,” he promised himself.

_ _ _

Up Next : Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4

[wonderlustlucas]

satori - park chanyeol

⇢ prompt Let’s make it forever.—sequel to greatest gift ⇢ pairing chanyeol x female reader ⇢ word count 14.3k ⇢ genre fluff & smut ⇢ warnings explicit sexual content, small dirty talk, fingering, oral (f receiving), overstimulation, multiple orgasms (just 3 don’t get excited), unprotected sex, creampie, mild cumplay?, i think that’s all this is basically pwp but somehow 14k words ⇢ summary It’s been a little more than two years since you and Chanyeol started dating and you have never been so happy. Perhaps you are just blinded by love, but things are perfect and you cannot help but think it has something to do with having the love of your life always by your side. You also cannot help but think this kind of love lasts forever.—established relationship!au ⇢ a/n ok i really wasn’t planning on writing a sequel to greatest gift but then like 1 person asked me to & then i was inspired by 170727 kokobop chanyeol watch the fancam dudes that’s the exact outfit he wears in this & have been listening to forever religiously & really just wanted to write pcy saying ‘nice skirt’ so here we are. u don’t need to read greatest gift to read this but u will have more background info ab characters & relationships. ok that’s all from me, i really spilled my heart out into this one & am very proud so i hope u love satori as much as i do! ♥︎

In the midst of your monotonous Pinterest scrolling, the unlocking and opening of the front door tears your attention away from the video that so enticingly grasps your attention, no matter how badly you wish it to finish. Glancing up, you first look to the television, where your fourth episode of Property Brothers drones on, flickering light into the otherwise dark room. Then, it is Toben who catches your eye, head lifting from his position by your feet at the sound of the door clicking shut. So quick is he to abandon you, excitedly leaping down from the sofa to greet his human. In all honesty, you do not blame him; he simply is not as lazy as you are on this dreary Friday night.

Well, perhaps not so dreary anymore. Sure, the unremitting, hazy rain and grey clouds beyond the warm confines of your apartment beg to differ, but inside, the sun itself has entered.

“You know what’s sad?” You call out to him, lips quirked in amusement.

“What?” He answers from down the hall, followed by the rustle of his jacket as he hangs it onto the coat rack. The familiar deepness of his voice alone is enough to put you at ease; instantly, you feel like putty against the pillow propped beside you when you imagine his humored smile. At the sound of Toben’s nails scratching against the hardwood as he scurries back into the room, you take one last lingering glimpse to the video that has been playing on loop on your phone.

“I don’t know how to tie a tie.”

Making his way down the foyer, he laughs. Barely a low chuckle, mostly out of confusion at your out-of-the-blue statement, but this makes you crack a smile nonetheless.

“Why should you know how to tie a tie?”

You know he is finally here without having to look up. You can feel it, the way his presence beckons for your attention effortlessly, tugging at the strings of your heart and the cords to your soul. The way the room seems to instantly grow warmer, brighter, the way just seeing his frame, tall and regal in your peripheral vision, is enough to have your legs quivering with the need to have him closer. “I don’t know,” you snort, turning to look at him at last, “wouldn’t it be cute if I did your tie before we went out?”

“___, how often do we go places where a tie is necessary?” Chanyeol muses, though you don’t exactly pay any mind to his reasoning. It’s not that you are ignoring him, you’re just… taking time to engrave this image in your mind, just like every other day. He’s beautiful, you distantly note, the epitome of your dreams standing at the entrance of the living room like a beacon, blue light from the TV flashing against his oversized olive-green sweatshirt and hair falling in floofy curls over his forehead. His hair.

His hair.

Somewhere in between you slowly blinking at him in the dark and leaning forward to turn the light on, he asks how your day was. Now, this goes ignored, brain preoccupied trying to fully process the fact that his hair is pink.

“You— what? When?” Overlooking his question, you sputter, “I thought you were at work!”

Amused at your baffled astonishment, Chanyeol kicks his sneakers off near the shoe rack before making his way over, stifling a laugh at your rendered silence. “Do you like it?” He asks, scooping your legs up from the sofa so he can crash down close beside you, quickly laying them over his lap.

Pinterest ‘how to tie a tie’ video long forgotten, you toss your phone onto the coffee table and lean forward, grasping his face in both hands in order to lower the crown of his head to your nose. With only a single inhale, the accumulative scent of bleach and hair dye and everything salon nearly has your eyes watering before you drop your hands. At that, you lean back far enough to fully admire him in the light, cheeks and lips puffy from a long day, skin glowing with the remnants of misty rain, but the hair. Oh good God, the hair. A shade somewhere in between bubblegum pink and your favorite lip gloss, it has your insides alight with butterflies in seconds.

“And here I thought you couldn’t get any more handsome,” you finally sigh, burying your face into your palms. The anxiety that had begun fizzing in his nerves from your scrutinizing is immediately extinguished, replaced with a fresh wave of pride to his ego and, well, absolute adoration for you.

“Is that a yes?” Chanyeol laughs, loud and boisterous as he bends to awkwardly lie against you, paying no mind to the way the furniture creaks as he wiggles his way into the small space. “Duh,” you scoff, moving your arm so he can better nestle his long ass self between your legs, “I thought red was my favorite, but now I’m not so sure.” When he laughs again, you feel it in your soul, the vibrations resonating within you and you can’t help but wrap your arms around his shoulders, tugging him closer. Once he’s caught on that you desperately, always, crave for such proximity, Chanyeol instantly shimmies his way up, dimple prominent when you cup his face one more time to press a welcoming kiss first to his forehead, then his nose, then his lips. “I missed you.”

“I bet I missed you more,” he replies once satisfied five kisses later, turning his head to rest against his favorite pillow, aka your chest. Knowing you will never win in any such argument like this with him, you bite your tongue and take to combing your fingers through the freshly colored strands of hair, cringing at the thought that it won’t be this soft after he’s washed it. “So, what made you do this?”

He shrugs, half of his attention paid toward the renovation reveal displayed on the TV. “Thought I’d switch it up for Easter, so I just went before heading to the studio.”

“What did Jongdae think?” You wonder with a laugh. Out of all Chanyeol’s friends, Jongdae was never one to go for the extravagant hair colors. Orange was the extent of his spectrum, and even that was short-lived. “Said he liked it, then called me an Easter egg, so who knows,” he grumbles, clearly troubled by his friend’s lack of an immediate, one hundred percent approval. This in itself is enough to make you laugh, but you choose to change the subject for the sake of Chanyeol’s immeasurable ego. “Speaking of,” you hum, enamored with just the sliver of his face you can see from this angle, “how’s the album going?”

“It’s good,” Chanyeol hums, chin digging into your sternum when he turns to look at you once more, “Jongdae is gonna start recording on Monday.” As he says this, he stretches his arms above your head before flopping them down by your sides, one cold hand sneaking under the hem of your crew neck to splay against the warmth of your back. Now, this is mutualism at its finest: with the two of you seemingly always running at an internal temperature too high, you both are feens for a cold touch once in awhile. So, as Chanyeol gets to warm his hands up, you, too, benefit with the coolness against your burning skin. It also may have to do with that time he had ice cubes against your—

You shake your head to rid the tantalizing memory.

“I’m so excited to hear it,” you whisper without meaning to, perhaps reduced to mush at your current intimacy, “with his voice, knowing you wrote the majority of the album. Ah, it’s gonna be beautiful.” Pushing his bangs back and giving his scalp a good scratch all the way to the nape of his neck, you add with a wrinkle of your nose, “I wish it was you, though.”

Chanyeol lets out an amused snort, one eye peeled open to glare at you for disrupting the drowsy daze you have cast him under. “But you already have my singing all to yourself, you don’t need an album,” he mutters, voice marbled with sleep and your fingers twitch with the need to trace the swell of his pouty lips. You do it, anyway, and receive a chaste kiss to the pad of your thumb in return.

“How was the museum?” He asks nearly ten minutes later, stirring just slightly to stretch the arm not curled around you up and past your head. You were under the impression he was fast asleep if the shallowness of his breath was anything to go by. Perhaps not. “Slow Friday, as usual,” you sigh, aching to stretch, too, now that the weight of having a grown ass man on you has finally taken its toll, “had a live animal show with the barn owl and Branch, again.”

“Branch is the new opossum, right?” Chanyeol questions, suddenly pushing himself up enough to sit back on his heels. He must have noticed your stiffness. Offering him an appreciative smile, you lean up and fluff the now squashed pillow beneath you before flopping back down on your side. “Yeah,” you hum, pulling him down to rejoin you, “he’s cute. Imprinted, too, so he loves cuddles. Almost as much as you.” It’s awfully cramped with your back pressed up against the leather and Chanyeol flush against you, but you would never complain about having him so close. You usually can’t get close enough.

“I’ll never forget the raccoons. They were so cute,” Chanyeol hums, reminiscent to the singular time your boss allowed you to sneak him in to meet all of the museum’s disabled animals. With his hipbone pressed against the curve of your stomach, he slots one long leg between your own, surely building his nest even though he should eat and shower before getting comfortable. “That was fun,” you agree, pausing for just a moment when his hand, large enough to cradle half of your face, comes to do so. “They were hella messy though, ugh,” grumbling, you return his previous gesture and press a kiss to the palm of his hand when his thumb goes about running along your bottom lip, “I’ll never forget the time Lavender shit in their enclosure asI was cleaning it.”

Chanyeol frowns, brows quickly drawing together and the sudden change in his expression certainly throws you off guard. “Don’t talk about raccoon shit when I’m about to kiss you,” he murmurs, leaning up on one elbow to ever so slightly hover over you.

“Oh?” You chuckle, dragging your hands up the ridges of muscle in his arms to link behind his neck. “I didn’t know that was your plan.” Like this, you still can’t fight your smile at just how well the pink hair compliments the warmth of his honey complexion.

Lips jutting out in a deeper pout, Chanyeol slips his hand under your shirt to grab ahold of your waist. “That’s always my plan,” he sighs longingly, finally swooping down to capture your lips in a kiss powerful enough for the world around you to fall away.

When you wake, you come to realize three abnormalities.

First, your pillow is not where it should be. Flat on your stomach and limbs spread like a starfish, you raise your head just enough to catch the corner of said pillow staring at you sadly from the floor below.

Second, you are cold. This, you have no one to blame but yourself, having torn your clothes off in a hurry and fallen asleep soaked in the warmth of one another. Now, with the blankets only coming up mid-back, you cannot fight your shivers at the cold air against your bare skin.

And lastly, Chanyeol is still awake.

It takes several moments for you to come to your senses, feeling as if you have awoken from a season long hibernation, the haze and confusion of having abruptly awakened rendering you incompetent when it comes to gathering your wits for several moments. Finally, once you have realized where you are, you first take to wiping at the drool that has pooled directly onto the sheets and, consequently, crusted onto your cheek. Nice. Pausing just a moment to collect your disoriented thoughts once more, you then lean half your body off the bed to retrieve your pillow with a grunt, and, just a little further away, your shirt. On your way back up, you catch the time on your nightstand shining an angry 2:43 am at you.

“What are you still doing up?” You ask, voice groggy and thick with sleep once you have flopped onto your back, chest heaving with the unnecessary effort you just had to exert in the middle of your weekend slumber. Squinting past the shine of the bedside lamp he’s kept on and the bright screen of his laptop, you recline just enough to see that he’s… online shopping?

“Baekhyun showed me this really cool site for colored contacts,” Chanyeol explains, then, after turning to you with furrowed brows and a worried pout, “did I wake you?”

God, you’re confused, brain in no state to try and figure out why he’s looking at colored contacts at almost three in the morning when he had fallen asleep with you no more than four hours ago. “No, no… well, actually, I don’t know, I think I just woke up on my own,” you murmur, sitting up to pull the crew neck over your head, “why… why are you looking at contacts, again?”

The rasp of his chuckle is enough to draw you closer, rolling to meet his side and pressing your cheek against his shoulder. “Baekhyun said blue contacts with pink hair is a good look, so I’m gonna order a pair,” he whispers, lifting his arm despite your grumble of protest to curl around your shoulders and tug you close. The white light from his laptop is a bit too harsh on your eyes, but you manage to keep one half open to peek at the selection. Then, “You’re so weird. Go to bed.”

“I will, after I order,” he whispers for the sake of letting you fall back asleep, yet you can hear the smile in his voice. “Yeah, whatever,” you grunt, turning onto your other side but still latching onto his arm, “get me a pair, too.”

For the brief time in between living with college roommates and then moving with Chanyeol, sleeping in on Saturday mornings in the comfort of your own apartment was always your favorite. No obligations, no work, and certainly no one to disturb you. Whether you finally rolled out of bed at ten, one, or four o’clock--- it didn’t matter. If you had plans at night, you still had plenty of time to get ready and you were in a much better mood to socialize than the other days of the week. Sleeping in on Saturdays till whatever time deemed sufficient simply brings about a whole new level of comfort and consists of several factors at the root of such leisure.

This list certainly became askew, however, once you and Chanyeol began spending nights with one another. Before, simply waking to a quiet apartment, ceiling fan humming and sunlight trickling through the bottom of your blinds was your favorite part of the week. But waking up with the love of your life curled into you certainly makes this experience all the better. And at this point, it seems as if waking up with the warmth of Chanyeol’s breath against the nape of your neck will remain at the top of your list forever.

So, for that to be absent is enough to startle you into an upright position only seconds after you have opened your eyes. Palm coming to slap against the deserted Chanyeol-indented space of mattress beside you, you stroke up and down the sheets, once, twice, before the lingering warmth on the pillow and sheets eases your nerves. Spinning to catch the time, you squint as if that will kickstart the drowsy parts of your brain to comprehend 12:37 pm and all the possible reasons why he is not here with you before tossing the blankets aside and rising with a much-needed stretch.

Shielding your eyes from the sunlight seeping in from between the blinds, you first reach for your underwear tossed haphazardly by the window before half-shimmying them up your legs and half-hopping to the door. Perhaps he’s in the office, you wonder, stepping into the foyer but alas, the door remains open and the lights off. Just as you’ve wandered into the living room, scratching by the front door to the right of you is immediately followed by the lock clicking open and, seconds later, Chanyeol has returned.

You’re a little thrown off. Sweatpants, wrinkled t-shirt, moccasins, and a terribly cute case of bedhead, it seems as if he just rolled out of bed seconds prior. But in his hands, he holds two full grocery bags and Toben’s leash.

“Good morning,” he smiles softly, eyes puffy with sleep. Yep, definitely just woke up. “Mom called,” he explains, lifting the bags before passing them to you so he can unhook Toben, “said something about… someone else not being able to cook a main for tomorrow... so she asked if we could do the Easter bread and brought all the stuff for it.” He explains as you rummage through the groceries. Milk, yeast, a carton of eggs; all things you have here, but Mrs. Park’s kindness never fails to surprise you. “Ah,” humming, you make way for the kitchen counter to set everything down, “I was very confused.”

“Sorry,” joining you in the kitchen, Chanyeol curls an arm around your waist and tugs you closer to kiss your temple, “I didn’t want to wake you.” Lining all the dry ingredients up for later, you hand him the rest to put in the refrigerator. “Well, thank you,” flashing him an appreciative smile, you finally take to rubbing your eyes as it seems you won’t be going back to bed anytime soon, “do you want anything to eat? I can make eggs if you make pancakes.” Crust sufficiently wiped from your eyes, you lean against the cabinets and glance to Chanyeol, soaking in the way he seems to glow in the sunlight illuminating him and the messy curls of pink hair. Ugh. He’s the worst.

“Breakfast sounds good,” he agrees, gaze flickering down to your bare legs for hardly a second before taking two short steps closer and suddenly, you’re not so sure he means eggs and pancakes if the way his eyes darken is anything to go by.

“You should probably put some pants on, first,” Chanyeol rumbles with a thoughtful rise of his brows, one hand anchoring onto the curve of your waist while another dips into the waistband of your panties before letting it slap back against your skin.

Despite the burning desire that flares in your abdomen at the daring move, you jut your chin out, eyeing him contentiously. “Oh! You’re right,” smirking, you force yourself to avoid making eye contact in order to calmly slip out of his grip, “let me go grab some sweats.”

You’ve hardly made it to the dining table by the time he’s back on you, reaching for your wrist and spinning you to meet his chest. At the near growl that escapes him, you quite literally quiver from head to toe. “So funny, I forgot to laugh,” Chanyeol grumbles, gripping the back of your thighs to help you onto the wood before diving in to kiss you.

It quite literally sucks the life out of you, but then again, that’s every kiss with him. “I thought it was pretty funny,” you giggle before he really has you loopy on the taste of him, but it doesn’t take long for your jaw to slacken, allowing him further access. So quickly you fall under his spell, fingers curling into the hairs at the nape of his neck and legs coming to wrap around his waist when the kiss turns into nothing more than a clash of teeth and tongue. It doesn’t take long for him to rid you of your shirt, either, or have you lying back before him as he places hot, open-mouthed kisses all the way down from your throat to the waistband of your underwear. Christ, this poor table.

Good thing this is the only such meal ever eaten here.

Out of fear that he would stop once you mentioned anything, you have never complimented Chanyeol on his shower singing. Sure, you have heard him loud and clear throughout your home and sometimes even when he’s secluded in his office, but something tells you singing in the shower is different. You wouldn’t necessarily call it an invasion of privacy considering no such privacy exists in your relationship by now, but you simply do not want to mention it because knowing him, he subconsciously will either sing quieter or amp it up knowing you are listening in. And you don’t want him to change what he’s already doing.

With your back facing the bathroom door, you remain in the same position Chanyeol left you in, on your side with your head on his pillow rather than your own. You should probably get out of bed soon, anyway, the colon between the ten and forty-three on the clock blinking at you in judgment, but listening to Chanyeol sing along to a fourth Radiohead song with the luxurious smell of him around you is a much better alternative. You have plenty of time to get ready, you tell yourself, nestling deeper into the pillow, only seconds before Chanyeol’s singing ceases as he turns the water off. Frowning, you take this as your cue to give up any possible five-minute nap and return to your side of the bed to retrieve your phone.

“Are you up?” Chanyeol calls from behind the door just as you have opened up Instagram. “Yeah!”

He opens the door at your confirmation, showering steam and light into the otherwise cave-like bedroom. “I’m gonna have to leave soon,” Chanyeol says once you have rolled over to look him, towel wrapped snuggly around his hips and Q-tip in ear, “Mom is in her usual panic and asked if I could help her out.” Frowning, you flop onto your back, staring up at the ceiling. “What ever am I to do without you for two and a half hours?”

“I’m sure you’ll figure something out,” he hums, making his way over and leaning over you, arms coming to rest at each side of your head. You twitch when a droplet of water running down his jaw falls onto your cheek.  “G’morning, by the way,” he mumbles against your lips after coming closer and you graciously return the soft kiss he offers you. Of course, you pull him back for a second, much deeper one, smiling when he ever so slightly shifts when your fingers come to trail up the toned expanse of his stomach, hand coming to cradle his jaw.

You pull back with a sly smile when his tongue threatens to push past the seam of your lips. “Do you know what you’re wearing?” You ask, ignoring the betrayed look in his eyes when you sit up and nudge him out of the way. “No,” he grumbles, returning to the bathroom once he realizes he is not getting anything more than a kiss. Stifling a laugh, you swing your legs over and sit on the edge of the mattress, watching him comb product through his hair. After two showers, it already seems to have lost its initial pop of color. Sad.

Rising with a stretch, you head toward the closet and stop along the way to pull a pair of sweatpants up your legs—just so he doesn’t get any ideas—and flip the closet light on before opening the doors. At the sound of the hairdryer roaring to life, you take to sifting through the shirts he has hung up, trying to avoid the blacks as this is his family’s annual Easter get-together. It certainly is not as extravagant as Christmas, but Chanyeol is a man of style and you know he prides himself showing up as best dressed. Going something pastel would be a nice change for the spring season, but yet again… you linger on a navy button-up. The white decal means he could wear white pants, but it is a little casual, barely a step up from a Hawaiian shirt, but maybe he could wear a nice jacket with it.

Plucking it by the hanger, you turn toward the bathroom and hold the seemingly unworn shirt out to him as he moves to the last section of damp hair. “This, with white pants? Do you have a jacket this color?” You shout over the hairdryer, reaching to brush away a tuft of hair falling in his eyes. Chanyeol considers it for a moment, gaze flickering back to his reflection before nodding to you. “Yeah, in the other closet, though. Thank you,” you just barely hear him but smile nonetheless, stealing the dryer from him to direct the hot air toward the back where hair refuses to lay flat.

Passing it back to him when you’re done, he only does one more run through before switching it off and moving on to gel just to assure the hair he has combed back stays up and away from his forehead. “You look really handsome with it parted like that,” you compliment, staring up at him with wide eyes and you mentally slap yourself at how flustered you sound. Dating for over two years and you still can’t get a grip. The look on his face makes your embarrassment worth it, though. “I had no idea how the back looked, so thank you,” Chanyeol chuckles, rinsing residue gel off his hands before unplugging the hairdryer and ushering you back into your bedroom. Not without another kiss, of course. As a treat.

Hooking the hanger with his shirt onto the doorknob of the closet, you take to undressing as he does the opposite, tossing your sleep apparel to the hamper and only stopping to help him redo the buttons of his shirt he so kindly misaligned. “I’m gonna get in the shower,” you hum, goosebumps coming in waves when his hand comes to glide against your bare skin, starting at your waist, up the curve of your breast, over your collarbones and finally cradling your neck, “I’ll see you in a little bit?”

“Yes ma’am,” he affirms, ducking to peck the corner of your mouth, “I’ll get an Uber so you can have the car?”

“No! You drive, don’t you have to pick stuff up? I’ll Uber,” you offer, wrapping your arms around him and blinking up at him with your chin sitting on his chest. When he shakes his head you realize, as usual, there’s no point in arguing. “It’s fine,” Chanyeol grins, pinching your side, “no one else gets to drive my girl but me.” Rolling your eyes to counteract the heat that flares its way up your neck, you pull away, smoothing out the wrinkles you made in his shirt. “Yeah, whatever. Don’t forget a jacket.”

“I won’t,” smiling, he leans over to give you a proper kiss this time, “see you at two.”

Once the Park family, as well as distant relatives and close friends, found out you and Chanyeol were together, things certainly changed.

You were no longer simply Seoyun’s best friend. Everyone knew you at that point, sure, accepted the fact that where Seoyun went, you followed, but dating Chanyeol had all the stage lights pointing to you. You couldn’t necessarily understand why that came to be, but assumed that it simply had to do with how popular he is, even in his own family. For someone not nearly as outgoing as Chanyeol, the news came as a surprise to many on that monumental Christmas party two years ago. Others, however, apparently had their bets on when the two of you would finally crumble for years.

Chanyeol’s mother, for example, was one such person.

For as many things that went wrong this morning, from your straightener not heating past one-fifty, to having a breakdown over what to wear, and even messing up your eyeliner one too many times, you have somehow arrived seven minutes early. Before you left, Chanyeol had called, too, asking you to pick up two bottles of soju and a bag of glass noodles because 1) him and his cousins already managed their way through a bottle and 2) the noodle pack his mom picked up was half the serving she needed. This alone tells you you’re in for a long night.

Christ, it would have been nice if he was here to open the door for you, though. With a heavy grocery bag, wrapped Easter bread, keys, and handbag threatening to slip off your shoulder, it takes ample effort to safely hook your pinkie finger around the grocery bag so you can lock the car. Then, you manage to open the storm door with your elbow, seconds away from dropping the Easter bread in the endeavor. Chanyeol claims he forgot it on the counter. Luckily, the maroon front door with its pretty spring wreath has been left ajar, and it isn’t until you have finally slipped your way inside does someone realize whoever’s huffing and puffing out there needs help.

“Here, I’ll take this,” he offers in a rush, further opening the door to accommodate the two of you and taking the bread from your arms.

“Thank you,” you smile, wiping your boots on the welcome mat before looking up to your knight in shining armor.

Oh. Oh.

“I don’t think I’ve met you before,” you chuckle, squinting at the ridiculously attractive stranger. Phew. There’s no way you would have missed such a face in all your years with the Park family whether Chanyeol was the apple of your eye or not.

“No, you haven’t. This is my first rodeo around here,” he grins brightly. His smile makes him even more attractive, if that is possible. “I’m Jongin. Nice to meet you…?”

Oh. Oh.

“Jongin, as in Kim Jongin Park Seoyun’s boyfriend?”

“Yes…?” He trails off awkwardly, scratching the back of his head. “You apparently know me, yet I don’t know you.”

“I’m ___,” you laugh, stepping past him and leading him out of the front foyer. When you glance back at him, you can see the gears turning in his brain before an excited expression of recognition flashes across his face. “Oh! Oh, shit. You’re the infamous ___. Christ, sorry. Hi.”

“I’m not sure why you’re apologizing, but then again, I have no idea what that woman has said about me,” laughing, you pause to wave to some of Chanyeol’s cousins in the family room before continuing with Jongin to the kitchen, “don’t trust anything she says. I promise I’m nice. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, though, Mr. Jongin.”

“Ah, you as well,” smiling softly, he seems quite overwhelmed at the Park’s rowdiness, gaze anxiously flickering around the crowded room as he ever so slightly steps closer. You distantly wonder why Seoyun would leave him stranded, but that’s not your problem. “So, if you are ___, does that mean you’re…”

Like some sort of cartoon, Jongin trails off just as both of you find Chanyeol in the crowd, beer in one hand and bowl in another as his mother deposits what looks like mussel and scallop shells into it. Maybe it’s your automatic Chanyeol-tunnel-vision, but even in the midst of the busy room he seems to be the rising star, standing tall and regal by the counter, laugh booming over all the noise and simply glowing in the warm wash of light. He managed to find a navy jacket practically matching his shirt, too. Dear God. “Yeah,” once you finally tear your gaze away to turn to Jongin, he’s already watching you, smiling at the way you so lovingly looked at Chanyeol. “I’m the lucky lady.”

“Hey, he’s the lucky one,” Jongin adds, nudging you with his elbow. Seoyun certainly got a good one. “Speaking of lucky,” you start, craning your neck to search for said girl, “where’s S—”

“___!”

You are so kindly interrupted by your intoxicated boyfriend shouting for you across the room. Flushing in embarrassment and trying to ignore all the heads that turn in your direction at the sudden announcement of your arrival, you reclaim the Easter bread from Jongin’s arm, offering him an appreciative bow. “I’ll catch up with you later. Tell Seoyun I was looking for her.”

At his affirmative smile, you suck in a deep breath before spinning around and maneuvering your way to where Chanyeol and his mother stand by the oven. “I was wondering where you were,” he greets, setting his beer down to take the bread and soju from your hands before squashing your nose in a deep kiss that his mother and family really did not need to see. Blinking at him in surprise, you don’t even bother asking him what the hell that was about and turn toward Mrs. Park instead, who has just finished wiping her hands before opening her arms for you.

“It’s wonderful to see you, love,” she hums when you wholeheartedly accept her embrace, arms coming to wrap around her. “You too, Ma,” pulling back just enough to look at her with a brow raised, “I hope he helped you enough before he started drinking, or do I need to have a talk with him?”

She laughs, plucking up a wooden spoon to stir what looks like kimchi stew. “No, he helped a great deal. Vacuumed before anyone arrived and helped make a few things with his sister,” she explains, gaze lighting up when you pull the pack of glass noodles from the grocery bag. “Oh! Thank you so much, dear. I was so angry when I saw how little was in my bag,” then, turning to yell out over her guests, “Yura! Come finish your japchae!”

“Go grab something to drink, ___. Dinner will be ready in an hour or so, there’s plenty of appetizers out already. Thank you, again,” Mrs. Park grins brightly at you, squeezing your hand before returning to chopping vegetables. Crumbling the plastic grocery bag in your hand, you turn to Chanyeol who appears to be deep in conversation with a couple standing across from him, but you can tell by the way he keeps grazing over the appetizers on the counter next to him and avoiding eye contact that he is in desperate need of an escape. This being said, he still jolts in surprise when you return to his side, one hand curling around his bicep as the other glides down his arm to intertwine your fingers with his. The woman droning on pauses her chatter at this, the corner of her lip twitching up and she takes this as her cue to move on, offering the two of you a wink before dragging her husband, assumingly, out to the back patio.

“Ugh, thank you,” Chanyeol grins once the door shuts behind them, looking down at you with puckered lips, “I missed you.” Snorting, you let go of his arm to move to the now open spot beside him, eyeing all the pickies laid out in front of you. “Was going to make fun of you, but I missed you, too, so it looks like we’re both clowns,” you sigh, grabbing a fork to stab into a slice of mozzarella. Chanyeol stays quiet, opting to fondly watch you instead, smile only growing when you try one of everything. “Oh,” you remember, pausing to swallow the last bit of spicy chicken, “I’m glad you found a jacket. You look great.” You kiss the tips of your fingers, waving them just for emphasis.

Chanyeol’s grin is instantaneous, stretching his arms in front of him and literally checking himself out in front of you. You’re not judging, of course— if you looked half as good as him all the time, you would do the same. Plus, navy does wonders against his skin tone. “Thank you,” arm curling around you, he gives your side an affectionate squeeze, “you don’t look too bad yourself.”

Smiling at his compliment, you continue to make your way through the appetizers. Plucking up a cube of cheese, it isn’t until you have bitten half do you realize your mistake. “Ew,” you cough, sticking your tongue out as if that will rid your taste buds of the sharp provolone flavor. Nose wrinkling, you hold the other half out to him, “Here, you like fancy shit like this.” What you certainly do not expect is for him to go right ahead and bite the cheese straight from your fingers, lips just barely wrapping around your thumb. Despite the way your stomach swoops at the action and the way he stands back to his full height, lids hooded and gaze dark, your first instinct is to look around you, heart racing at the thought of one of Chanyeol’s aunts or uncles watching him eat cheese from between your fingers. Christ, it sounds even worse when you think about it.

Swallowing past the sudden dryness in your throat, you tell yourself you know this dance— you know how to handle Chanyeol just as much as he knows how to handle you. Slowly turning back to him, all you offer is a challenging rise of your brow before reaching for a different cheese, trying to ignore the way your pulse races just by having him close.

As you search for a cracker, perhaps even a pretzel, you see from the corner of your eye how disgruntled he is with your reaction, considering you with a flare of his nostrils and a pout of his bottom lip. Plan B, it is.

Squeezing your side harder, Chanyeol leans in close this time, brushing hair away from your ear with his other hand before whispering, “Nice skirt.” Now, this certainly nurses a much better effect, the richness and deepness of his voice alone dripping like chocolate into the very core of your being. It’s only a two-word compliment, yet you practically choke on your mouthful of food. When he tugs at the hem of the plaid wool skirt you wear, two thoughts momentarily cross your mind: 1) the compliment is nice, especially since you were worried it was a bit shabby looking but 2) he may just be saying that to get a rise out of you.

“Thanks,” you murmur, summoning the courage to slide your palm from the waistband of his slacks, all the way up his chest to finally cup his jaw before standing on your tippy-toes, pushing yourself to meet his ear. The ball is in your court, now. “Bet you’d like it better if it was off, no?”

You don’t miss the way his breath hitches, grip on your waist tugging you closer and you distantly hope it simply looks at if the two of you are deep in conversation. Over cheese and whatnot, of course. “Don’t tempt me, ___,” Chanyeol hisses, “I’ve fucked you with my family just beyond a door, you know I’d gladly take you on the counter right now for everyone to see your pretty pussy.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Alarms. Panic. Shit, now you’re wet. What have you started? Maybe you don’t know how to handle Chanyeol as well as you think— he undoubtedly has your tongue tied now. You can’t even begin to think of a response that doesn’t involve tearing off the lace shirt you spent so long ironing for him to fulfill such an alluring threat. He must feel how you tremble against him, heat burning from the inside out and suddenly he’s withdrawing, regarding you with his own challenging brow raise, eyes dark with hunger as he awaits your response.

“Hey, Chanyeol! Stop hiding ___ from me!”

The relief you feel comes in cooling waves, jerking you out of your trance and you turn just in time to see Seoyun stop in front of you, finger jabbing into Chanyeol’s chest. “Can’t you back off for like, two seconds?” She barks, oblivious to his heavy breaths. Then, pulling Jongin who was hidden behind her to Chanyeol’s side, “You two, meet. Talk. Do the bro thing while I drink some mimosas with my girl.” Oh, good. You sure could use one of those. Or two. Or three.

Chanyeol puts his arms up in defense, glancing at Jongin who only shrugs in identical stupefaction. “Perfect! Okay, see you guys later. Don’t bother us, we have girl things to talk about,” Seoyun threatens, shooting a second cold glare to Chanyeol before softening up and smiling softly. Then, she’s dragging you toward the back door, hardly giving you time to look back at Chanyeol.

When you do, you know that threat won’t be forgotten easily.

After ‘dinner’ sometime around three-thirty, the hours start to blend together, four turning to six, and then all of a sudden, it’s eight o’clock. Family gatherings seemingly always go like this—when you were kids, this was time spent running around outside, about the house, playing games or opening presents (depending on the occasion). Now, this is when things mellow down; from chugging mimosas with Seoyun in the backyard, you now opt for wine, just to seem sophisticated, and the atmosphere is much calmer. Peak adulting, right here.

While many family and friends leave once the post-dinner sleepiness fades, close relatives remain, gathering together and using the time to share stories and life updates. These are always your favorite times with the Parks. And even though Chanyeol is on probation, sitting on another sofa across the room for the stunt he pulled earlier—no, the other stunt, where he held your thigh during dinner but kept inching up until his fingers brushed along your panties when his aunt was sitting right next to you—tonight, in particular, has been one of the best nights spent with your second family.

Every so often, usually when you are PMSing, a dreadful thought enters your mind and always returns whenever you are with Chanyeol’s family: you love them just as much as you love him. It was Seoyun, not Chanyeol, who introduced you to them first, and you have spent more than a decade growing up with them. It goes without explanation that you consider them as your own family now, too. So, what if you and Chanyeol broke up? You are an adult now, so it’s not like Seoyun would ask you to join her for the company like she had when you were kids, and it wouldn’t make sense for Chanyeol’s parents or aunts and uncles or grandparents to invite you… You would not only lose Chanyeol, but your family, too, and that’s enough to make any grown woman cry.

So, looking around the living room full of many people you have grown to love, you try to make the best of it. Not that you think you and Chanyeol are going to break up, no, but it is an inescapable fear that you will never be able to simply ignore.

But you can brush it aside for right now, at least— especially when you are curled into Mrs. Park’s side with Seoyun’s head on your lap.

“Are you guys gonna get married?” Your best friend asks, completely out of the blue. You just finished ranking your favorite teas, now we’re talking about marriage? “Um,” you cough, glancing up to Ma for help but she’s looking at you with an identical expectant rise of her brows. Must be a Park thing. Christ, what is this, the girl’s gossip table in fourth period lunch? Still… are you going to get married? You can’t necessarily answer that on your own. You have no idea what Chanyeol is planning for his future, sure, you’d like to get married, but you are also not in any rush, and—

“Yes,” is what you say, before your mind has even caught up. “Wait!” You quickly add on, smacking a palm to your forehead. Then, “Yes… I’d like to get married. But I don’t know if he wants to, and even if he does, we’re in no rush, he’s been busy producing and…” Trailing off, your gaze has somehow wound up to the ceiling, and when you glance back to them, their features have noticeably softened, eyes glossy with joy.

“I love him, a lot,” you say, quieter, gentler this time, zoning in on Chanyeol across the room and his pretty smile and the way the whole room seems to light up when he laughs. “If he wants to get married, I’ll marry him. And if he doesn’t… well, I’m not going anywhere. I’ll wait forever, for him.”

“My boy is more than in love with you, ___. You’re his whole world,” Mrs. Park says and when you tilt your head up at her, the look in her eyes suddenly makes you want to cry. Again. It’s from the wine, you tell yourself. “If he doesn’t put a ring on it soon, I’m gonna fuck his shit up,” Seoyun snaps, the alcohol in her system clearly doing the talking here as she stares absentmindedly up at the popcorn ceiling. Laughing, you slap a hand over your mouth, expecting Ma to reprimand her niece for such language in front of her. Instead, she joins in and soon enough, the combined laughter from the three of you has all of your earlier worries washed away.

“What’s so funny, ladies?” It’s Mr. Park here to interrupt this time, an amused smile forcing a dimple in his left cheek. “Ah, nothing, honey,” Ma coughs out one last giggle before reaching for her husband’s hand, giving it an affectionate squeeze. “Just making fun of Yeol.”

“Oh, my favorite. What did he do this time?”

“He hasn’t asked ___ to marry him yet,” Seoyun pipes up from your lap, head tilting further back so she can look at her uncle.

“Why do I keep hearing my name over there?” Chanyeol shouts, leaning up far too quickly from his relaxed position and you can tell by the way his head bobbles that he has had one too many drinks with his uncles and cousins. Looks like you better slow down if you want to get home safely. “Because you’re paranoid!” You shout back, scrunching your nose at him because you know he knows you’re right. Frowning, he motions with two fingers that he will be watching you before returning to his own conversation.

“So, you met Jongin,” Seoyun starts once Mr. and Mrs. Park have fallen into a separate discussion beside you. You’ve had this conversation twice, already, but you don’t mind having it again.

“I have,” you hum, softly adjusting the weight of her head on your thighs so you can sit more comfortably, “I can’t believe you guys have been friends since university and this is the first time I’m meeting him.”

“Well… it’s not like we hung out all that much. We haven’t been in touch for a while,” Seoyun mumbles, eyelids fluttering closed once you begin combing through her hair.

“I refuse to believe that. There’s no way you would have given up a man that good-looking.”

“Hey!” She grumbles, smacking your knee. “He was abroad senior year! And then life just kind of took over. He had a girlfriend for a while after graduation, too. We only started talking again when I bumped into him in Target last year.”

“Mhm, sure,” you hum, looking up to find him. Your heart does somersaults once you find him seated on the same sofa as Chanyeol, cool as a cucumber compared to how overwhelmed he seemed earlier. “I’m happy he seems so comfortable with the family. I’m happy for you, too.”

The playful gleam in her eyes softens as she leans up, sitting up to face you properly. Then, squeezing your hands, “I’m happy, too. Ever since you and Chanyeol started dating… I wanted what you had so, so bad. And I know we’ve only been together for five months, but I’ve never been so happy with someone.”

“Do you love him?” You whisper, searching her face when she turns to look at Jongin across the room. You can see it— the look in her eyes, the complete and utter adoration and admiration. You see it because you’ve felt it, too. You’ve felt it looking at Chanyeol, and you’ve felt it when he looks at you.

“I do. I love him a lot, actually,” Seoyun finally admits, turning back to you and for the first time in years, you see genuine tears trail down her cheeks. “Oh, no,” you hush, dabbing under her eyes to make sure her mascara doesn’t run, “shh, don’t cry. I know they’re happy tears but your makeup looks too good for that.” Pulling her into a hug, you cradle her head into your shoulder and hope no one is looking at her strangely.

“I know,” Seoyun hiccups, squeezing you tightly, “I’m just so drunk and happy for you and for me, I couldn’t help it.”

Laughing, you push her back before cupping her cheeks, wiping at the stray tears. “It’s alright. Crying when you’re happy is a good thing. It means you’re doing something right, Seoyun.” Smiling despite the wetness of her cheeks, she straightens up, dabbing away tears under her chin before cupping your face as well. “Thank you for being such an amazing best friend all these years,” Seoyun says, reaching forward and planting a hefty kiss to your lips, “but I think it’s time for us to go home. Show Jongin how much I really love him.”

When she stands, you’re still trying to process the unexpected kiss she just gave you but brush it aside for now, considering you’ve kissed plenty of times in your years of friendship. “Alright,” standing up after her, you give her one last hug, “text me when you get home.”

“I will. You have a good night too, ___. Chanyeol’s been eating you up alive for the past hour,” winking, Seoyun finally turns away to bid her farewells to the rest of her family. Speaking of Chanyeol… you step around Seoyun and make your way toward him, desperately trying to ignore the way his gaze travels slowly up your approaching form.

“Hey,” he greets when you reach him, tugging you by the wrist to sit on his lap. Luckily, the family surrounding him are turned the opposite direction toward the television, leaving your intimacy to go unnoticed. “Hi,” you return, arm draping over his shoulders and fingers burying into his hair. “You ready to head home?” Chanyeol asks, arms wrapping around you to pull you closer so he can nestle into the crook of your shoulder. “I’m ready when you are,” humming, you take to tracing patterns against the skin of his neck, resting your head atop his as your eyelids threaten to flutter shut.

Reaching for your other hand, Chanyeol brings it to his lips to kiss your knuckles. “Y’know, nothing makes me happier than seeing you cozied up with my mom.”

“Well, I think she was pretty impressed by our fantastic Easter bread.”

Snorting, he brings his head back to look at you. “It was pretty good,” he agrees. Then, cradling your jaw, “But it’s more than that. Having the two most important women in my life get along so well means so much to me, ___.” Bringing you closer, Chanyeol finally kisses you, soft and slow and when your eyes close, you feel right back at home, warm all over and overflowing with ardor. “Come on,” nuzzling the tip of your nose with his, “finish your drink and then let’s go home.”

“We need to plan things more often. Mom and I want to see you more than once a month,” was the last thing Mr. Park said to you before you left for the night.

“I love you very much, sweetie. Keep in touch,” Ma had whispered in your ear as you hugged her goodbye.

This is all you can think about as you drive home. Chanyeol was much drunker than he led on, so with him knocked out in the passenger seat, head against the window, you’re left to your own thoughts. The soft lo-fi Chanyeol begged to put on the radio before he passed out doesn’t help, either, but the overall peace and quiet is enough to have you dwelling over your night.

This week leading up to Easter has been especially rainy, too, and even now as you lower the cruise control to sixty-five, hazy rain begins to set on the windshield. Switching on the wipers, you steal a quick glance to Chanyeol who stirs once you move back into the middle lane. And as much as you want to reach over and hold his hand, you don’t want to disturb him.

Maybe it has to do with all the time spent catching up with Seoyun, but you’re left in an overly nostalgic, sentimental mood.

There was quite a lot of talk about love tonight. What Mrs. Park and Seoyun dumped on you about marriage certainly threw you off. Sure, you definitely have imagined marriage and Chanyeol in the same picture, but it was never a topic either of you openly discussed. It just never came up. Despite the fact you have been dating for over two years, sometimes it feels as if you’re still in the honeymoon stage with how perfect things have been. You’ve had your fair share of fights, sure, but nothing ever large enough to have you questioning your relationship. Your mother always told you living together, managing finances together, and raising a child together (Toben) is the true test of love.

But you and Chanyeol have done all that already. You’ve been living together for quite some time, and there’s nothing he does that makes you want to rip your hair out like some couples seem to experience. And, while he does tease you over little habits, he has never mentioned something that seriously infuriates him, either. The two of you share everything at this point, and you can’t imagine marriage seriously making all that of a difference.

Just the life-long commitment.

But when you look at him now, you realize there is no other way you would want to live out the rest of your life. You can’t imagine ever finding someone after Chanyeol, someone you could possibly love more— as you’ve said from the get-go, it’s always been him. From the time you first thought he was cute in sixth grade, to senior year when you realized you loved him, to Christmas two years ago, to now, there’s no one else you would or could ever devote yourself to.

It’s always been him, and it will be forever.

“Chanyeol,” you whisper, then, realizing such gentleness will not wake the giant, you reach over to pat his thigh. “Chanyeol, we’re almost home.”

Chanyeol grumbles, a deep, growling noise that supports just how far gone he is. “What time is it?” He asks groggily, stretching his long limbs and cracking his neck from side to side. “Almost ten,” you hum in reply, quickly glancing to the time on the dash before taking one last turn onto the street of your apartment complex. It’s strange to see the city so dead on a Sunday night.

“___,” Chanyeol groans somewhere behind you as you hurriedly make your way through the parking lot. It was not this cold earlier. “Why are you walking so fast? I thought heels made people slow.” Stopping, you look down to your high boots, realizing that in your rush to get inside you had not even realized just how sore the bottom of your feet are. “I’m cold,” you whine back, bouncing on your toes and crossing your arms in an attempt to contain some body heat as Chanyeol sluggishly makes his way toward you. Maybe if you hold his hand or something he’ll move quicker.

“Come on,” you mumble, intertwining your fingers with his and tugging him along.

You don’t get there any quicker.

You barely manage to open the door with the way Chanyeol clings, hugging from behind and nearly tripping you with those clumsy feet of his. “Chanyeol,” you whine for at least the fifth time, borderline annoyed but watching him scowl at the eight stairs he has to climb like they’re some sort of math problem is quite amusing. “Come on, you big baby,” you decide to meet him halfway, reaching out for his hand and hauling him up with you. When you finally make it to the top, he’s reduced you to a giggling mess and uses it to his advantage, pushing you toward the wall.

“I’m not a baby,” he huffs, breath heavy with the amount of effort he just had to exert. “Yes, you are. C’mon, when we get inside, I’ll swaddle you in your favorite blankie and read you a bedtime story,” you taunt. Still, you find yourself spreading your legs just a tad wider for him to slot his thigh in between, his nostrils flared and frown deep as he towers over you, caging you in.

He chooses not to verbally reply. Instead, one rough hand anchors itself to your waist while the other slides to cup the side of your neck, thumb tilting your chin up to meet him. No matter how much alcohol may run in your systems, kissing Chanyeol will always be the one constant neither of you could ever miscalculate. It simply is an all too familiar doing, one you’ve spent days and weeks and months practicing until it became a subconscious reaction. It is a beginning and an end, your unraveling and your reawakening, an elixir that creeps its way into the very marrow of your bones and blossoms like a spring flower in your lungs.

You intended to string him along until sobriety finally brought him to his senses, but you think this is manageable, something to tease and dangle over his head before deserting him despite the way every fiber of your being craves for him. You can picture it— the confused anger flashing in his eyes when you push him away to continue down the hallway, fire in his veins dwindling to nothing but embers as you discard him for the third time tonight. And so, you press into him with equal force, desperately clawing to have him closer and swallowing his gasp when your tongue slips past the seam of his lips. Despite the heavy taste of liquor on his tongue, Chanyeol finds this rejuvenating, finally, he has you, fist bunching into the fabric of your shirt as he sucks your bottom lip between his teeth. He turns into something fierce, addicted to your taste and your touch when your fingers toy with the tips of his ears before raking through his hair and, suddenly, you feel as if you have lost the upper hand.

The hand cupping your jaw drops, trailing dangerously down the side of your thigh before wrapping around your knee to hike your leg around his hip. It is when he presses into you, growing erection doing nothing against the thick fabric of your skirt but still alarmingly there does the steadfastness of your plan falter, the idea of bunching your skirt up to your waist and letting him fuck you right there at the top of the staircase seeming all too tempting.

When he moves to press a sloppy kiss below your jaw, then on the other side of your neck, it buys you enough time to gather your thoughts. Because even though the nip of his teeth and the warmth of his tongue against your skin has wetness pooling between your thighs, it is not nearly as distracting as his mouth on yours. “Chanyeol,” you gasp still, fingers digging into his arms to ground yourself. He merely hums in reply, kissing his way down the column of your throat as he gives your right breast a firm squeeze. Your head thuds against the wall the farther you tilt back, granting him more access and breathing coming in sporadic bursts. It takes quite the strength, but, with the mental image of what’s to come once you actually make it inside encouraging you to do so, you gently push him back at last.

First, worry flashes across his face, suddenly fearing that he has somehow hurt you. But when the side of your mouth ever so slightly tips upward and you step around him to advance further down the hall, there is a mixture of betrayal and frustration flaring in his veins but overpowering desire, too, because he simply loves this game you’ve decided to play.

Racing to unlock your apartment before he can catch up, you excitedly jam the key into the knob just as Chanyeol has reached you, arms circling your waist to spin you around. “You’re driving me crazy,” he groans, guiding you into the apartment and kicking the door closed behind him. As soon as it clicks shut he is back on you, forcing you against the wall because he knows you like it that way, knows you like it rough and knows you like his manhandling. “Yeah?” You ask, though it comes out more like a hiss when he continues his assault on your neck like he never stopped, further bruising the delicate skin there and causing your heart rate to steadily pick up. “How so?”

Ignoring your innocent inquiry, Chanyeol returns to your mouth, tongue battling against your own as he pulls you flush against him, sandwiched between his sturdy chest and the wall. His other hand travels delicately beneath the hem of your shirt, palm burning impossibly warmer against the heat of your skin and it isn’t until he brushes the underwire of your bra does he pull back, satisfied with the way your lips swell. Then, leaning close so his breath fans over your ear, he whispers, “You’ve been rather naughty all night.”

You don’t tremble like he expects you to. You don’t stare back at him with wide, hungry eyes like he expects you to. In fact, you don’t react at all like he expects you to. Instead, you seem to snap out of your lustful daze, eyeing him with a rise of your brow and the straightening of your posture.

“I’ve been naughty?” You scoff, finger jabbing into his chest and, from the total one-eighty in your demeanor alone, Chanyeol stumbles back. “I think you’re mixed up.” Like a puppy desperate for your affection, he cautiously follows you out of the foyer and into the living room.

“I don’t think I was the one who offered to fuck you in front of all your family, or had my hand down your pants during dinner, now, was I?” You sneer at him, struggling to walk to the bedroom while simultaneously zipping down and kicking off your boots. “I—”

Chanyeol begins, taking a hesitant step after you. Beyond the harshness of your words, he knows this is all part of your game, and it’s turning him on more than he’d like to admit, especially when you won’t let him touch you. “No,” you cut him off, standing in the doorway and watching with a stifled smile as he slowly edges closer, “you, sir, need to drink some water before coming any closer. Sober up, think about what you did tonight, and maybe I’ll consider forgetting it happened.” “___,” Chanyeol whines and you almost expect him to stomp his feet like a child, “you’re killing me.”

“Good. Now you know how I’ve felt all night,” flicking the light on, you set your boots down by the closet and keep your eyes trained on him, assuring he stays put, “go on, then. Don’t look so sad, water’s in the kitchen. I need to wash up.” And with that, you retreat into the bathroom, locking the door behind you and trying to erase Chanyeol’s pout from your mind.

In all seriousness— you really do want to wash your face. The thought of having to get up later or even falling asleep with makeup on makes you shudder, and so, you take your grand old time treating your skin, just to make him suffer awhile longer. As you are scrubbing your face over the sink, you hear Toben bark, followed by the soft clinking of his leash. Seconds later, the front door opens and slams closed.

Good, you think, feeling triumphant. Patting your face dry with a towel, you give yourself a once over before swiping a cotton round wet with toner over your skin, simultaneously trying to calm your nerves while also conjuring up what is to come.

God, he really has had you riled up since his first words in his parent’s kitchen, you realize with a cringe as you quickly undress, tossing your clothes into the hamper. Slipping into your simple bathrobe, you turn the overhead lights off in favor of the much softer bedside lamp before flopping belly side down on your bed. Instantaneously, images of Chanyeol flash into your mind, first, simply how godly he looked tonight, tall and lean and yours, then, the look in his eyes when he whispered about fucking you in the kitchen, and later, the teasing drag of his fingers against your panties. All of a sudden, you feel inflamed with desire, clenching around nothing at the thought of such long fingers burying inside of you.

Breathless, you reach for your phone, desperate for a distraction. Seoyun, you remember, clicking on her text from earlier confirming she was home. Sending a few hearts back, you have just opened Instagram and liked a studio picture from Jongdae when the front door opens, Toben’s yapping signaling for a new swarm of butterflies in your gut. Outside of the bedroom walls, you hear Chanyeol’s shoes clunk against the wall as he chucks them off, Toben’s leash unhooking, the living room lights being flicked off. Then, the steady footsteps as he nears your room.

“Can I come in?” He asks from the doorway, the rumble of his voice making a home in your heart.

Chuckling, you turn to look over your shoulder at him. “Yes.”

Stretching to plug your phone in on the table, you realize he’s still playing it careful, managing to only close the door behind him and set a bottle of water on the dresser. “Come here,” you invite at his lack of an advance. He seems startled, an internal battle raging in his heart as he wants nothing more than to jump into bed beside you, but also fears that you will string him along once more. So, he approaches slowly, choosing to sit by the foot of the bed and refusing to look at you, instead leaning over to yank his socks off.

Suppressing a grumble of protest at his distance, you struggle to sit back on your haunches, fingers moving to quickly untie the front of your robe. Chanyeol visibly relaxes as you make your way over, scooting further back to allow more space when you swing one leg across his lap in order to settle on his thighs. His Adam’s apple bops seeing you are totally bare, robe just barely covering your breasts. Avoiding eye contact just yet, you lean forward, pressing a delicate kiss below his ear and humming in appreciation when he tilts his head for you.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper after having your own turn of marking his soft skin, palms sliding over his chest to push his jacket from his shoulders, no matter how alluring he looks in it. “To be completely honest, I really just wanted to wash my face.” Furrowing your eyebrows in concentration, you make slow work at the buttons of his shirt next. “And,” you add, lowering the volume of your voice as if telling a secret only he’s allowed to hear, “I wasn’t in the mood for drunk sex. I’ve been wet for you since four o’clock. I wanted to savor tonight, yeah?”

Once you’ve popped the last button open, pushed the soft fabric from his shoulders and littered his exposed skin with soft kisses, you finally lift your gaze to his face, heart nearly stopping beneath the darkening of his stare. Just like that, Chanyeol sees it as his cue to take over, pouncing like a cat on its prey, opening your mouth with his own and bringing you closer with a firm grip on your ass. “I should have just fucked you when I had the chance,” he practically growls, pulling his arms out from his shirt and jacket and pushing the robe from your shoulders, hands cold from being outside and summoning goosebumps to rise along your skin.

One such hand slides up your spine before wrapping around your nape to tilt you back, body curved to give him room to duck down and kiss along your collarbones, sucking harshly at your skin to assure deep purple marks by morning before enveloping a nipple between his teeth. “Ah,” you hiss, nails digging crescents into his arms as you grind down on him, “I wouldn’t have been able to look your parents in the eyes if you did,” then, choking on a moan as he rolls your other hardened bud between his calloused fingers, “plus, I still would have been thinking about your fingers all night.”

Chanyeol groans, releasing your nipple with a soft pop. “My fingers, huh? What about them?” He hums with faux innocence, securing a grip on your thighs before flipping you onto your back in order to hover above you. He doesn’t let you reply, however, latching his lips to yours and quite literally sucking all the air from your lungs with the way his tongue wraps around your own. “Yes,” you huff when he pulls back, fingers threading through pink hair and hips rising to brush against his when he begins his journey downward, “thinking about them stuffed inside me and— and then,” you stutter, back arching as he kisses his way straight down the column of your throat, the valley between your breasts, the swell of your stomach, simply sucking at the same marks he made yesterday, “and then, your dick.”

“See,” Chanyeol mutters with a click of his tongue, hooking his fingers around the waistband of your underwear and shimmying them down your legs, “I know how dirty you are.”

“Yes,” you whimper, spreading your legs for him as he throws one over his shoulder, “you make my life really difficult like that.”

“I know, baby,” he hums, then, watching with a smirk as you jolt with him blowing cool air directly to your clit, “I always make it up to you, though.”

There simply is not enough time to think of a reply before Chanyeol has his mouth directly where you need him, flattening his tongue against your slit and licking upward, drawing a wanton moan deep from your throat. Relief, finally. Any witty reply quickly wiped from your brain, all you can focus on now is the warmth and wetness of his tongue, circling your clit before dipping between your folds.

“Chanyeol,” you rasp, one hand anchored into the comforter and the other clutching his hair to contain the way you quiver, “please.”

He hums, the vibration strumming right against you and winching the knot forming in your abdomen impossibly tighter. “Please what?”

“Fingers,” is all you manage to get out, seeing stars with the way he sucks at your clit. He wastes no time contemplating your helpless gasp, immediately shifting his position in order to grant such a wish. In fact, he wastes no time easing into things, either, pushing two fingers into your seeping cunt without so much as a warning. It tears a shaky moan from you, nerves aflame with the new but oh so welcome intrusion.

“Christ, ___,” Chanyeol hisses, immediately adding a third finger and pausing to watch his digits sink in to the knuckles, “your tight little cunt is practically sucking me in.” A shaking and gasping mess, all you can offer is a breathless yes, walls clenching in need of more friction. Sensing this, Chanyeol gets right back to work, hand rocking against you, fingers dragging in and out, rubbing upward and against that hidden gem of a spot. “Oh, God,” you keen, thighs reflexively squeezing the sides of his head when he swirls his tongue over your clit in all sorts of shapeless patterns before tightly sucking at it once more.

“That’s it, baby,” Chanyeol soothes as he forces your legs apart, eyes glued on the mess he’s made, juices smeared even at your thighs with the way his fingers curl into you before nearly pulling out entirely. “So greedy.”

“Chanyeol,” you whine, hips raising to follow the movements of his tongue when he returns to your clit, “so close.”

“Mhm,” he groans against you, insistently flicking at the bundle of nerves and adding his pinky finger to the stretch. Chanyeol relishes in the way you practically swell beneath him, nails scratching against his scalp at the addition and the way he scissors his fingers. It is with one last upward curl and draw of your clit between his lips does your orgasm hit you, an intense wave of heat that has you arching into him and red speckling your vision— even though your eyes are screwed shut. It takes several moments to come down from the high, core throbbing in the aftermath and nerves seemingly frayed at the force of it all.

And yet, he has not stopped.

“Chanyeol,” you gasp, voice taut as a result of your previous silent scream, “f-fuck. Christ, I can’t.”

Chanyeol only hums in reply, a mere dismissal as he knows you can handle it and is more than happy to continue. Pulling his fingers from your soaking cunt with a lewd squelch, he grasps your thighs and spreads them further, lapping hungrily at the messy aftermath of your orgasm. Ignoring the way your body shakes and the powerless mewls escaping your lips, Chanyeol continues right where he left off, this time, however, with his tongue stroking gently between your folds and his thumb drawing soft circles over the hood of your clit.

Given no time to settle, the inferno blazing within you quickly roars back to life once the near-painful sensitivity fades, leaving you subject to the overpowering pleasure pumping through your veins. “God, Chanyeol,” you whine, loosening your grasp on his hair once you realize the iron grip you were holding for the entirety of your climax, “f-fuck, you’re killing me.”

Smiling against you, Chanyeol begins to feel impatient, the restriction on his erection borderline painful. This being said, he picks up his tempo once more, one hand keeping your hips down while the other spreads open your folds, giving him unhindered accuracy to press his tongue against your clit, draw circles, triangles, figure-eights— before you’re coming undone in no time.

Biting your bottom lip to taper the near scream that threatens to tear from your throat, you have no choice with the way Chanyeol holds you down but to fall face-first into your climax, tumbling over the edge at an alarmingly fast rate. Your second orgasm comes much easier and much quicker, body still recovering from the first, and it leaves you simultaneously jerking away but locking him in. Chanyeol is just that good.

It almost feels as if you are floating through clouds as you come back to reality and part of you wonders if that orgasm lasted a few seconds or an hour. You can’t tell. But coming back down brings an onslaught of sensations; first, the complete and total mess in between your legs, the result of two orgasms sticking to your thighs like syrup. Second, the soothing massage Chanyeol rubs into your thighs and hips, fingers digging deep into your muscle and aiding in your return from Heaven, you think.

And third: Chanyeol still has his pants on.

“How are you?” He asks, lips curled into a smirk because he knows how good it was, but likes the validation. When all you offer is a small noise of protest, Chanyeol understands this to be your wordless way of asking him to come up, and he does so immediately. “I think I just saw God,” you say once he’s settled on his side next to you, cringing at the coarseness of your voice. With a dreamy sigh you smooth over his pectoral, the dip of his collarbone, the protruding tendon on his neck, before cradling his jaw and leaning over to press your lips to his.

Slow to start, you take ample time simply to savor him, the taste of you, and to show your appreciation for not one, but two orgasms. A renewed sense of urgency, however, appears to take over, and you suck in a heavy breath through your nose when Chanyeol pushes himself to hover above you, hand wrapping around your knee to throw your leg over his hip. Palms deserting their spot beneath his ears, you quickly make work to the button of his pants.

“Goddammit,” you hiss after several unsuccessful attempts, growing just as impatient as he and pulling back to focus on such button, then the zipper, “I hate buttons.” Laughing, Chanyeol leans up to tug his pants and boxers down his thighs, cock springing free against the toned panes of his stomach. “I can tell. Patience is a virtue, you know?” He teases, settling more comfortably between your spread legs and kicking the last of his clothes to the floor.

“Don’t you dare try talking to me about virtue when all I can think about is you rearranging my guts,” you grumble, eyes screwing shut and missing the way his eyes darken when he presses the head of his cock against your clit. “Purity is a virtue, too,” Chanyeol continues to tease, finally angling to your entrance and just barely pressing in, “I don’t think God would be too happy with that mouth of yours.”

“Please shut the fuck up and— ohh, shit,” before you can finish your sentence, Chanyeol has finally rolled forward, dragging past your walls and filling you to the brim in one flawless push. Then, once you have adjusted to the forever startling swell of his cock within you, “We can go to confession after you’ve fucked me.”

Chanyeol lets out a noise somewhere in between an amused snort and a groan, mind effectively having already gone off the deep end and focusing on the tightness of your slick cunt and that alone. “God, ___,” he hisses, drawing back to leave only a lonely inch within you before thrusting forward again, drawing a series of moans from your lips, “never get enough of your tight little pussy.”

“Uh-huh,” is all you manage, struggling to soundly wrap your legs around him with all your muscles reduced to jelly with him filling you so deliciously with every thrust. With the fire in your stomach roaring to life and consuming you whole once more, you will yourself not to come so soon, attempting to open your eyes after several futile blinks and focus on him. Perhaps this is not the best thing to do, however, considering the image of him glowing with a sheen of sweat, eyebrows furrowed, face flushed and hooded eyes boring holes into you only prompts you to tighten around him and ‘squeaking noises’ he always likes to tease you about to slip past your lips.

“God,” you whine, leaning up and placing a desperate kiss to his top lip but flopping back down at the uncomfortable angle, “God, I love you.” Chanyeol visibly softens at this, the sharp snapping in and out of you slowing into deeper, more languid strokes. “I love you more,” he sighs, brushing away hair that has stuck to your sticky skin before kissing you properly. There’s something different about this kiss— for you, at least. Perhaps it has to do with all the talk and sentiment of the night, but a feeling beyond your every day, established love seems to wash over you.

It leaves you gasping and licking into his mouth, desperately trying to cling to the feeling, to put a word to it until finally, you realize, it’s always been here and will forever stay. It seems to resonate in your core, not physically but in your soul, something beyond logic and more of an opening of a door to tranquil waters. It leaves you lightheaded, the staccato of his heart pressed against your skin and the connection of your bodies the only things keeping you grounded because this feeling, this overwhelming, beautiful feeling makes it seem as if you are the center of the universe, just as Chanyeol is the center of yours.

“I’m close,” he hisses, two simple words breaking into your satori and hurling you back into the euphoria that fizzes up your spine and fills your bones. “Me too,” you gasp, breathless from the loaded emotion heavy on your mind and your heart and the quickening of his cock, brushing at the deepest part within at every stroke. It has your head falling back, eyes rolling and back arching when you squeeze around him, muscles contracting with such overwhelming pleasure coursing through your veins like electric waves.

“I love you,” you repeat when you fall into your third orgasm, eyes squeezing shut despite your best efforts at keeping them open in order to watch as Chanyeol, too, reaches his high and comes into you with a harsh stutter and load groan. It simply is so powerful you practically feel as if you have just been brought back from the dead, body bucking beneath him like a whip as the toe-curling feeling explodes within you like a firework show. Chanyeol seems to share in such experience, usually not the most vocal but he can’t seem to keep to labored breathing, biting into your shoulder as his seed comes in hot spurts inside of you. You say it every time, but this, truthfully, was the best orgasm of your life.

It takes several moments, minutes, even, to come down from your highs, bodies seemingly in overdrive with such a feeling warming you from your head to your toes. But, just as all good things come to an end, you eventually force your eyes open once you’ve gotten over feeling as if you might pop, blinking past the tears that at some point accumulated. Chanyeol has his forehead rested against your shoulder, heavy inhales and exhales slowly calming as his heart, too, returns to its normal beat. It isn’t until you raise a weak hand to stroke his hair does he tilt his head to look at you, eyes shining like stars with the tired smile he gives you.

Brushing mused pink bangs from his eyes, you crane your neck to kiss his forehead, his nose, and finally his lips before letting your head fall back with a sigh. He returns your affection with a gentle kiss to your shoulder, shakily leaning up to pull his now flaccid cock out of your raw cunt. He’s quick to move, however, fingers coming to press against your folds as if to plug any of his cum from leaking out. You twitch, still way too sensitive and you mentally cringe at the thought of going again— to be frank, you’re pooped.

Still, you lie there quietly, body cooling down as Chanyeol continues to stare as if daring your cunt to let any of his seed slip. After a few more silent moments of this, however, you force yourself to lean up, knowing if you stay like that for any longer, you’d be asleep in minutes. Chanyeol lets out a quiet grunt of protest as such movement causes the smallest gush, fingers swiping against your folds to collect your mixed cum before pushing it back in with the gentlest touch. You sigh at the feeling, clutching at his arm and suddenly, a part of you wishes you weren’t on birth control.

“I felt you,” Chanyeol finally says, voice tight as if he hasn’t used it in years. Such an ambiguous statement, but fortunately, you know what he means without needing him to explain it. You only nod at first, searching his face and finding only the utmost truth. With a gentle hand tracing his jaw, you move in closer to press a soft kiss to his lips before curling into his side. “And I felt you.”

Chanyeol thinks he would look ‘strikingly handsome’ with pink hair, wearing his blue contacts and his baby blue tie.

You think he would look just as handsome as a brunette, without the contacts, and a matching grey bow tie.

Chanyeol thinks you’re lame and just petty because you wouldn’t be able to tie his tie when he gets dressed.

However, with blonde hair slicked back, just his prescription contacts, and baby blue tie, he also happens to think you are strikingly beautiful walking up the aisle. So much so, by the time you are there in front of him, he already has tears streaming down his face.

With your hands in his, you think this kind of love lasts forever.

[sambergscott]

you're my dream come true (aka the palm springs au 🏝)

Summary: Jake has lived this day a thousand times, and he's destined to live it a thousand more, stuck in an infinite time loop at a wedding in Palm fucking Springs, miserable and with a girl who doesn't love him. Then the Maid of Honor follows him into a cave.

for @nylesniall. thanks for putting up with me this week as i wrote this, thanks for being the one to encourage me to write it in the first place, and thanks again for letting me watch the movie with you at 5am. love you sm!!!

as this ended up being a ridiculous 17k words, this is only a snippet and the rest is on ao3 (also it *is* 17k words and was a helluva lot of work so pls do let me know what you think)

9:40 AM. November 9th. Rosa and Adrian’s Wedding. Rancho Calmado. Palm Springs, CA. “Wake up,” a familiar voice whispers. He opens his eyes immediately, a quick assessment confirming that, yes, he is still in the same bed, wearing the same blue t-shirt as the day before and has the same sinking feeling in his stomach that has become synonymous with his morning routine. A notification pings on his phone, reminding him that it’s November 9th, the day of the wedding. He slams it back on the nightstand, cracking the screen. He doesn’t need a reminder. In his world, it’s always November 9th. Jake has lived this day a thousand times, and he’s destined to live it a thousand more, stuck in an infinite time loop at a wedding in Palm fucking Springs, miserable and with a girl who doesn’t love him. At least he doesn’t have to do laundry. 

He rolls over and is greeted with the same sight as always, Sophia wrapped in a towel, her leg extended as she moisturizes. She got up early to do her hair and make-up and he grins, knowing that in a few short minutes she’ll be running back to the bridal suite, sweaty, her hair mussed and make-up ruined; it will be his fault that the wedding is late and the bride will shoot daggers at him as she walks down the aisle. Worth it. He’s gotta have some fun stuck in this nightmare. Plus, after seeing the ceremony he doesn’t know how many times, finding a million ways to disrupt it has become a bit of a pastime for him. “Good morning.” He knew she would say that, too. “That’s a good leg,” he responds automatically. And it is a good leg. He tells her so everyday. And everyday she puts down the moisturiser, declares “this is happening,” and practically jumps him. Once upon a time, he would’ve been thrilled. An equally enthusiastic participant in their pre-wedding hook-up. She’s beautiful and smart and smells amazing. She likes Die Hard and hot wings and playing ping pong and, for some reason he has yet to discover, sex with him. He sees the stares from the other dudes at the wedding, knows he is punching way above his weight, that he should be so lucky to date someone like Sophia Perez, and yet every morning he lies there as she rides him, staring at the ceiling, feeling nothing. He hasn’t felt anything for a while. She’s cheating on him with Terry, the super buff officiant that cries every time he pronounces his friends husband and wife. He found out on the original November 9th… years… maybe decades ago. He has no idea. Time is meaningless now. He has no annual holidays to mark it’s passing; no getting drunk on New Year’s and kissing strangers, no Halloween, Thanksgiving or Fourth of July. He’ll never light another candle on his mom’s Menorah. All he knows is that he caught her and Terry in this very room, ran off to the desert to cry, wandered into a glowing orange cave and now he’s stuck with her forever and ever, unable to break things off. No matter what he does, what he says or where he goes, he ends up right back here in their hotel room, admiring Sophia’s smooth, silky leg. He flips her over because his day is always easier if he makes her come and kisses down her body, putting that big mouth of his to good use. He knows exactly what she likes and smirks in satisfaction when she orgasms in record time. He initiates Round Two in the bathroom as she tries to fix her hair, more because he has nothing better to do than out of an actual desire to be with her, and afterwards when she’s running to the bridal suite to have her make-up redone, he pulls on his blue palm leaf Hawaiian shirt and matching blue shorts he wears everyday, his only decision whether or not he can be bothered to button it. 

Today, he cannot.

Jake heads for the pool and his beloved pizza-shaped float, bailing on Sophia and the ceremony. There’s only so many times you can hear two people you don’t care about compare their love to a Nancy Meyers’ movie before you want to kill yourself. He passed his limit a long, long time ago.

He climbs aboard the pizza, takes a sip of his beer, and, underneath the warmth of the Palm Springs’ sun, he relaxes.

If this was all there was to the time loop thing, floating on an inflatable pizza, drinking beer and humming his favourite Taylor Swift song, he’d be all in. No complaints. But despite the good, the no laundry, the pool, and the ability to hook up with anyone and everyone at the wedding without having to deal with any repercussions, it’s a lonely existence here on his own.

Well, not completely alone. He has Charles; a small, mild-mannered man who asks him how is day is, everyday, even though nothing in this time loop ever fucking changes.

“Today, tomorrow, yesterday, it’s all the same,” he recites from the standardised script of his life, rolling his eyes when Charles tells him to be positive, that anything could happen.

Like clockwork, the wedding guests clap and confetti catches in the gentle breeze. He pats his only friend on the shoulder and sails his pizza to shore, ready to get his party on.

read the rest on ao3!

[thiswasinevitableid]

68 from the winter prompt list seems Very sternclay and I would love to see your take on it, nsfw if it fits would be great too, thank you!!!

Here you go, it is indeed NSFW!

68. you’re obsessed with my homemade soup that I serve at my cafe and I’m too embarrassed to tell you that I’ve only been trying out new recipes to see you get excited for the soup of the day

Stern tries to avoid being rude in public, or in general, really. But right now he’s wondering if he can get away with shoving his face into this soup bowl and licking out the bottom. The food at Amnesty Lodge has always been stellar, but lately the soups are the highlight of his day.

Reluctantly, he leaves the last delicious dregs at the bottom of the blue ceramic bow and heads to the counter to pay his bill.

“How was everything?” Dani rings him up with a smile. 

“Incredible. I swear, Barclay out does himself every time I come.”

“Great! I’ll tell him you said so. I know he loves getting feedback on new recipes.”

-------------------------

“You did not say that.” Barclay drags the rag down the counter top. 

“Okay, so I didn’t add ‘especially from guys who he thinks are hot,’you got me.” She smirks as she clocks out. 

“It’s not my fault he’s so cute when he gets excited about food.”

“Barclay, just ask him out already.”

“But he’s a customer!”

“Who you also see once a week at game night at Duck’s. He’s for sure in friend territory at this point.”

“She’s got a point. Besides, sometimes flirting with customers ends well.” Aubrey leans against the kitchen door, twirling her car keys and winking at her girlfriend, “right, honey?”

“Absolutely, firebug.” Dani loops her arm around Aubrey’s waist, then levels Barclay with the look that routinely makes people mistake her for his little sister, “ask him out, or I am going to leave your number on his check the next time he comes in.”

“Okay, okay” He holds up his hands, chuckling, “you win.”

He waves goodnight, finishes locking up once the two women are gone. Then he climbs the stairs home. Amnesty Lodge was a real lodge, once upon a time. But as the city grew and buildings were divided and repurposed, only the restaurant and the rooms above it, plus the small house next door, remained. Mama, the owner, lives in the house, and Barclay has the apartment. It’s nice; he has no commute, he can run up and change if he gauges his layers wrong, and he likes being able to hear the river running nearby and the traffic humming through his window. 

Maybe Joseph would like to come up here after closing some night for coffee? Or is that too forward? Would he be interested if it was forward, or if they took it slow? Would he be interested in Barclay at all? Does he just like him for his soup?

God, the soup. He never meant for it to become a thing. His usual menu had three or four soups of the day in rotation, but then Joseph ordered a bowl of the corn cheddar chowder to go with his club sandwich and ate it so joyfully that Barclay caught him licking his spoon. Which did nothing to quash his budding crush on the guy. So he started trying out new recipes just to see Joseph get excited, and now it seems like Joseph is coming in just for the soup, and the upshot is he may be stuck forever in a soup-loop because of the way Joseph’s eyes crinkle when he’s happy. 

He knows that Joseph agreeing to a date would make him happier than a fresh produce delivery. But he has no clue if he really stands a chance with a guy who’s always well-dressed and friendly, when he himself is an often quiet, scraggly looking cook. 

Well, if nothing else, he has to try. Dani is not a woman of empty threats. 

------------------------------------------------------

“How do you do it?” Joseph rests his chin in his hand, spoon sitting in his empty bowl. He’s at the counter seating, so he can see Barclay working at the grill. 

“Do what?”

“Come up with such good recipes. And don’t try to say it’s cookbooks; you said last week that you’ve come up with a lot of them on your own.”

“It’s, uh, it’s nothing special, just a lot of tinkering.” He gets an idea, one that flashes over him so hot and fast he’s afraid the stove caught fire. 

“Would, uh, would you like to help me out with the newest one? I get off in an hour since I was on the early shift today.”

“I’d love to! I have some errands to run downtown, so as much as I’d like to hang around for an hour and watch you show off, I’ll see you at seven.” He sets down the cash to cover the bill and a tip, winks, and heads out the door. Barclay really hopes he stays in the suit when he comes back.

“Uh, dude?”

“Yeah, Jake?”

“Toast’s on fire.”

“Fuck!”

-------------------------------------------------

Barclay finishes setting out his mise en place right as there’s a knock on the front door. He swings it open and finds Joseph waiting patiently, a grocery bag slung over his shoulder. He’s still in his suit; Barclay can just spot his black tie with little ufos on it peeking out of his winter coat. 

“Dani said I should just come on up.” He slips off his shoes, revealing socks with Bigfoot on them, “and I brought some wine, and a fancy beer I found at Jenny Street Market, since I wasn’t sure what kind of soup it is.”

“My take on a traditional Irish stew, so let's do the beer.” Barclay grabs two pint glasses and pours as Joseph finishes hanging up his coat and joins him in the kitchen. He’s down to his dress shirt and slacks, eagerly rolling up his sleeves before taking the glass. 

“Right, what do we do first?”

Barclay takes a prolonged sip to avoid blurting out his real answer, then starts explaining that they need to figure out the right ratio of vegetable to lamb and which spices work best in the stock. 

They talk as they work, Joseph sharing his theories on the plausible plot twists in this season of Agent X and Barclay teasing him whenever he gets going on a tangent about the monster of the week episodes. The easy back and forth, the warmth of the apartment as the air fills with spices and butter, the way the kitchen lights plays off Joseph’s face; it feels like a home, and his stomach twists whenever he remembers that the other man will leave in an hour or two. 

“Barclay, I have to ask; why the sudden zest for soup?” Joseph sets his glass down, still half full because they’re talking too much to drink more than a sip at a time. 

“Uhhh, just, uhh a good fit for a winter menu.” Barclay sets the lid onto the dutch oven; it’ll take at least forty-five minutes for this batch to thicken and develop flavor. When he hazards a glance at Joseph, the man is studying him, one eyebrow raised. 

“Is that all?”

He washes his hands to buy time to build up his courage, then sighs, “Nope. It started after the first time you ordered it. You just got so excited whenever I had a new soup of the day, and I liked making you feel that way, so I just kept finding or making new recipes I hoped you’d like. Heh” he rubs his wrist, anxious, “sounds hella weird when I say it out loud like that.”

Turning, he finds Joseph with his hands covering his mouth. 

“Fuck, sorry, probably shouldn’t have confessed that when we’re alone-”

“What? Oh, Barclay,” Joseph steps forward, taking his hands, “I’m not upset, I’m shocked. That’s, um, that’s one of the sweetest things anyone’s done for me, going to all that trouble, you didn’t have to.” The words are a bit stuttery and jumbled, Joseph going pinker after each one. 

“I wanted to. I’d make a whole new menu every day if it’d make you smile that way.”

His lower back bangs into the counter as Joseph crowds him, fingers digging into his hair so roughly that it starts coming loose from its tie. He tastes like beer and stock he kept sampling, and Barclay licks it up, pressing his tongue between his welcoming lips, desperate to bring them as close together as possible. 

Joseph pulls away, resting their foreheads together, as he undoes Barclay’s shirt with ruthless efficiency, “Do you have any idea how hot that is?”

“The...doing nice things for you part?” He cups Joseph’s cheeks, trailing his thumbs over the hints of five o’ clock shadow. 

“You went to all that trouble, just for me.” Joseph drags his mouth up Barclay’s neck as he continues, “just to make me happy.”

“I mean, made me happy too.” He mumbles into black hair.

“I’m trying to compliment you, big guy.” Joseph nips his bottom lip. 

“Oh fuck.” He whimpers at the nickname, at the way the other man doesn’t hesitate to shove his hands up his now-bare chest, demanding and adoring, “guess all those jokes about the way to a man’s heart being through his stomach are true.”

“While the food helps, there’s so much more about you that I like. For instance” he drags his hands down to Barclay’s stomach before palming his hardening cock through his jean, “you’re the most handsome man in town.”

He whimpers louder this time, Joseph keeping up the light pressure on his cock. 

“Bedroom?” It’s both an encouragement and a question, the ton letting Barclay know he’s welcome to continue but not obligated to.

“The, can’t, can’t leave the stove unattended.” He gropes Joseph’s ass through his slacks, kisses his neck as he tries to calculate if turning off the stew will mess up the recipe. 

“I love how responsible you are.” It’s another compliment, a dead serious one, “and I have an idea.” He steps back, hurries over to the grocery bag, and pulls out a small, rectangular box. 

“I couldn’t tell if this was a date, so I decided to be on the safe side.” He surveys the kitchen, “feel like picking a surface to bend me over?”

Barclay practically knocks a stack of cookbooks off the tiny kitchen table, dragging a laughing Joseph over to shove him across it. 

“This okay?” He pants as he covers the back of his neck with kisses. 

“Better than okay. Barclay please, I’ve, um, I’ve been thinking about this for weeks, and basically non-stop for the last two hours.”

“Fucking-A” He’s amazed there isn’t a cartoonish boi-oi-oing  when he gets his pants and boxers down, his cock--his whole being, really--aching for the chance to fuck the man in front of him. Getting Joseph’s pants down takes two tries, and opening the condom takes three because he’s shaking so hard from excitement. 

“Need a hand, big guy?” 

“Nope. Just need this.” 

“FUCKohfuck, shit” Joseph reaches forward, gripping the far edge of the table as Barclay sinks into him, “yes, need it too, need you so bad.”

“You got me babe” he loops one arm around Joseph’s hips, sets his free hand next to his on the table for balance, “and I got you.” He starts slow, relishing every little sound he gets in reply to his thrusts, kissing any exposed skin he can find, then rucking Joseph’s shirt up his back to find more. 

Joseph’s hand moves down towards his cock, but Barclay gently guides it back onto the table, “No need to babe. Like I said, I got you.” 

He doesn't mean to start railing him the instant after his fingers find his cock. It’s more that feeling him soaking and hard, all because of (and all for) him, the grateful moan he lets out at the contact, the way he grinds his hips back and forth, it sets off every part of Barclay’s brain at once, and all he wants to do is take him, make him cum, break the fucking table showing him how much he wants him. 

“Ohmylord” Joseph gasps, raising his head, “oh my fucking--Barclay yes, like that, lord you don;t disappoint.” His smile is ecstatic, more than the worlds clumsiest hand-job deserves, and Barclay forces his fingers to find their professional finesse, rub and stroke in the ways that make Joseph beg for more. 

He growls as he feels his orgasm building; not yet, no fucking way, he wants to feel Joseph cum around him. With Herculean effort, he stills his hips and focuses, growling again as Joseph tightens around him. When the man beneath him cums, the last of his restraint evaporates and he hammers into him, table scraping forward inch by inch in time with his grunts and Joseph’s weakening moans. 

His climax doubles him over, and he spills with a muffled moan, mouthing at Joseph’s shoulder through his shirt. 

Then his legs give, ten minutes of furious fucking after a ten hour shift enough for them to peace out. He lands with an “oof” on the floor, and Joseph is laughing again as he turns to stare down at him. 

“Are you okay down there?”

He gives a thumbs up, “Cute guy just shorted out all my circuits, no big.”

Joseph fixes his pants and shirt, joins him on the floor and pulls him into his arms, “I’d say it was very big.”

Barclay snickers, rests his head on his shoulder, “Walked into that one. Gimme sec, then I can make us some dinner. Don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”

“We’re not having soup?”

Barclay kisses his cheek, “Nah, you can have that for dinner tomorrow at the Lodge.”

Joseph’s smile is full of delicious trouble, “How about for breakfast?”

He holds him close, smiling at him, “Babe, you got yourself a deal.”

[dem0nsiget]

He can tell himself it’s just normal the first few feathers he finds on the ground.

But when he finds almost a whole pile under the chair Cas sits in, Dean finally confronts the angel.

“Dude, what the hell? You’re like a damn Husky, but with fucking feathers. You sick or something?”, he asked, drawing Benny’s attention from the book propped open in his hands (the Iliad, based on the gold foil reflecting off the cover).

Cas glanced at the ground behind him, then back at Dean, a sheepish look on his face.

“It’s... no, I’m not sick.”, he said when Dean’s last comment fully registers. “I’m an angel of the lord, I can’t get sick.”

Dean just heard a soft snort from the vampire tucked in the corner of the library, but by the time he glanced over at him, Benny’s turned back to reading.

“I know that Cas.”, Dean said, looking a little exasperated. “But why are you dropping feathers?”

“It’s probably a molt.”

Dean waited for him to elaborate, but Cas instead chose to just stare at Dean, his head tilted every so slightly to the side.

He loves him, but sometimes Dean really just wants to strangle Cas.

“A molt? Since when do you molt? And what the hell does that mean? We’re gonna be cleaning up feathers for the next month?”

“No, it should only last a week or two. Less if I can manage to pluck most of the dead feathers.”, Cas said matter-o-factly. “They don’t happen that often. Maybe once every ten human years.”

Dean just glanced back over at Benny, hoping to find some kind of assistance, but he can tell by Benny’s face he is pointedly not looking up at them to avoid said assistance.

The motherfucker.

“Alright, well, you said it’ll last a week unless you can pluck the feathers. Need help doing that? Not like Benny or I have anything better to do.”, Dean said, not giving Benny a choice whether he wants to help or not.

“Speak for yourself, Winchester. I am reading.”, Benny called over, icy blue eyes giving Dean a death stare that from any other vampire would probably have Dean backing off, but with Benny, he knows better.

He’s a freaking teddy bear when it comes to Dean and Cas.

“A book that you’ve said yourself you’ve read like a dozen times. Stop being an ass and come help.”, Dean shot back, earning a grumble from the Southerner, but Benny just begrudgingly shoved his bookmark into the book, and left it on the table next to his chair.

He got up and walked over, still glaring at Dean, who looked unfazed and unamused.

Cas, meanwhile, looked both grateful and embarrassed.

“I- I mean, it’s fine, you guys don’t have to help, I can get most of it myself-“

Cas was shut up by Benny, who just flicked the back of the angel’s head lightly.

“Shut up and let us help you.”, he grumbled. He still wasn’t a huge fan of being awake during the day, as his body fought him being awake, but he endured it to stay on the same sleep schedule as the rest of them.

Cas just glanced between the two, looking for a moment like he was about to protest again, before a slight shimmer, like rising heat, passed through the air, and a couple seconds later, two large black wings were draped over the back of the chair.

Dean had seen Cas’s wings only a couple of times before, as he didn’t usually walk around with them in a corporeal form, as they could be annoying and cumbersome.

But they usually looked much sleeker and glossier than they did now. Even as Dean watched, a slight breeze from Benny moving caused a tattered feather to drift to the floor.

“Dude, you look like you got dragged around in the dirt.”, Dean said, lifting one of his wings gently, a couple feathers drifting to the floor as he did.

“I’m aware.”, Cas snapped, sounding annoyed.

“Oh, relax, angel.”, Benny said, leaning against the table, not really knowing how to handle Cas’s wings, so he just hung back for the moment. “Y’know he’s just teasing.”

Cas just grumbled something in Enochian at that, but stretched his wings out a bit more.

“So... what do we do?”, Dean asked, not exactly well versed in wing maintenance.

“Just find any that look tattered and pull them out. If they’re molting they’ll pretty much fall out.”, Cas said, leaning over slightly to rest his arms on the table, laying his head in his arms. “I’d go get a garbage bag or something, there will probably be a lot.”

“On it.”, Benny said, heading out of the room towards the kitchen.

Dean meanwhile ran his fingers through Cas’s wings, a slight shudder passing down the angel’s spine at that.

“Sorry.”, Dean said, pulling his hands away.

“ ‘S okay.”, Cas murmured. “Feels good. Don’t be surprised if I fall asleep.”, he said. “It feels nice to not have to try and contort yourself to get the old feathers out.”, he said.

Dean glanced over when Benny came in carrying a couple garbage bags, flicking one out as he walked in and handed it to Dean, who looped the drawstrings around the back of one of the chairs to keep it open, while Benny did the same on Cas’s other side.

Dean caught sight of a glint of blue, seeing Cas with his head turned to watch Dean with that usual lack of care that he’s been caught staring.

Dean just dragged a chair over, sitting down behind Cas’s wing, and started pulling through the feathers, dropping the ones that fell into his hands in the garbage bag.

They work in silence, Benny on one wing, Dean on the other, Cas staying still and quiet between them. He shifts a few times towards the beginning, but about half an hour in, Dean starts hearing soft snores coming from the dark-haired angel.

Benny looked amused at that, grinning slightly when he picks up on the snores as well, but just turns back to Cas’s right wing.

Dean finds it relaxing, just a simple task to do, especially one that’s helping Cas. He so rarely asks for help, that Dean’s glad for any chance to help him in some way, to make up for all the times Cas has helped him over the years.

It took the two of them a good hour to finish Cas’s wings, and when they do, they looked a little ratty, a lot of the feathers now in garbage bags, but Dean knows they’ll grow back. It’s better than how they looked after Cas had fallen. He still remembered the shadowy look of his wings then, barely more than bones with a few feathers clinging on.

Jack had restored all of the angel’s wings, as well as opened Heaven up fully again, essentially reversing everything Metatron had done.

Dean was glad. He knew Cas had hated the look of his wings before Jack had restored them, which was why this was the first time Dean had seen them in years.

He stood up and tied off the bag of feathers he had, almost the entire bag full of black feathers. They’d figure out something to do with them later.

Benny meanwhile had already done the same, and gently shook Cas awake, who startled for a second.

“Wha-“, Cas murmured, sitting up slightly, before he yawned, the yawn giving him enough time to remember why he’d fallen asleep at the library table, glancing back at his wings, stretching them slightly, and beamed.

“Thank you.”, he said, smiling at Dean and Benny. “That feels much better.”

“Good.”, Dean said, leaning over to kiss his forehead. “But next time, ask us for help.”, he said.

“Well, I’ll probably need your help again in a few days.”, Cas said. “When the feathers that didn’t get pulled today start falling off.”

“Oh no, the torture.”, Benny said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Just let us know when you want our help, cher.”, he said, ruffling Cas’s hair slightly, before he walked back over to the corner of the library, sitting down and picking up his book again.

Dean rolled his eyes at him, but just gave Cas a soft smile. “I’ll go put these bags in the armory, we can figure out something to do with them later.”, he said.

Cas just nodded, laying his head back on his arms, watching Dean head out of the library, just smiling softly as he closed his eyes again, and drifted back off to sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

((A drabble? With actual dialogue? It’s more likely than you think!

But seriously, this is some of the first actual dialogue I’ve written in forever, XD. And please excuse any changes of like tense (past/present), I kept flopping back and forth for some reason and tried to get it under control, but it was making me not want to write it so I said fuck it and just wrote it XD.

Will be posted into my Denstiel Drabbles AO3 fic as well!))

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt 171 prt 1

171

“Working” beside Pidge, Pidge had borrowed his work phone to download the coding to her computer. Keith reluctant to let the device go, but useless at the tech side of things so could only follow her lead on these kinds of things. Distracted by thoughts of Lance, Keith knew he was being a little pathetic missing his boyfriend who’d only gone to get coffee.

“Dude, you’re breathing in my space”

“Should I hold my breath?”

Keith rolled his chair back, leaning back and poking Pidge with his foot when she sighed at him

“I won’t stop you if you want to”

“Harsh. I’m wounded”

“You’ve spent too much time around Lance... How is Lance?”

Keith saw that sideways less than sneaky misdirect

“He’s been up and down”

“He didn’t seem okay”

“He’s been better. I think he’ll feel better when the summoning is over and we have Curtis back”

“I think we’ll all feel better when that happens. Matt told me what happened”

Of course Matt had

“He was pretty shaken by it, but he doesn’t blame Curtis”

Pidge sighed, turning her chair to him

“Keith, did we do the right thing? Taking him to the house. I saw the look on your face and I don’t know what to think”

“Lance says he doesn’t know if he feels better or not... You... you were key to getting him back. While I was useless”

“You were pretty useless but that’s because you’re a hands on kind of guy. It’s weird... He’s like so much older but he doesn’t act like he used to. Lance used to be so adult. Like, he was taking care of us. He always kept his needs and wants well hidden. I realised how much he spoilt me. How much he went along with me and Hunk. That he protected us and we didn’t even know it. I want to help, but I don’t know where to start”

Keith found himself hugging Pidge who seemed a little confused before hugging him back

“He makes it hard because he’s fiercely independent, but he knows you’re there for him”

“I want to be there for you too”

He didn’t make that exactly easy

“Lance says I’m an anger loaf...”

“He calls me his anger muffin”

“Shiro‘s a croissant from memory. The twins are cupcakes”

“Aren’t they big enough to be baguettes now?”

Drawing away from each other, Keith snorted at Pidge

“I’m not sure. Lance said a rutabaga, but I don’t know what that is”

Pidge turned her nose up, face wrinkled in disgust

“It’s a vegetable. A disgusting vegetable that should be left in the ground”

Keith frowned deeply. His twins were perfect. They weren’t vegetables... and if they were, at least they weren’t broccoli

“Careful there, you’re insulting my kids”

Pidge rolled her eyes, kicking his shin as she did

“Can’t half tell you’re going to be a dad. Which totally reminds me, I’ve ordered you two your baby shower present because you’re both idiots. They should be here in like a few days, then it’ll take a couple of days of tinkering”

“I thought we said we had everything we needed...”

“Nope. You don’t”

Keith didn’t know what the hell they could be missing. The boxes from the furniture still sat in the hallway, with the hallway pretty much full... sooo... how much more could they need or even fit into their house?

“How much more does a baby need?”

“I don’t know? A stroller? Krolia’s getting you car seats... because, you know, you kind of need them. You can’t just drive around with an unsecured baby. I’ve seen your driving”

Oh. Ooooh. Oh. Yeah. They hadn’t thought about the “get the baby home” part of things. Pidge cackled at the look on his face

“See! Shay and Hunk got you something too... Shiro’s been too busy with Curtis so I look the liberty of lifting his credit card. He can thank me later”

Keith was somewhat scared of Pidge’s criminal mind. He’d have to tell Shiro. Keith had no idea when she’d had the chance... unless his brother left his wallet in his locker... Having Shiro and Pidge working together without him there threw him for a loop as he realised

“Have I told you how happy I am that you’re not a bad guy?”

“You have, but feel free to praise me more”

Chuckling at Pidge, he’d missed her. February had been a month where he’d felt just about every moment of it. They’d had very few days where they didn’t have to go somewhere or do something. Now he’d be back at work and his schedule up in the air again

“Lance would tell me off for stroking your ego. We should go see or a movie something while we’re in Platt. You, me, Hunk and Lance”

“That sounds good. When do you start back?”

“When the summoning is over and Shiro’s okay”

“I’ll make a note of it and see when we both have time off. It’s been ages since we went to the movies with Lance”

“It’s been a crazy past few months”

“Amen to that. The guys are taking forever...”

Pidge was cut off as the sound of something booming echoed through the lab. The building seemed to shudder, Keith falling off his chair as he did

“What the fuck was that?!”

“I don’t know!”

That couldn’t be good

“I’ll check the hall”

“I’ll pull up the security feed”

Opening the door, the corridor outside was cut. Thick white walls in place as if they’d always been there. Holy fuck... Keith had never seen it, but the first thing that came to mind was a lockdown

“Ugh, Pidge... We’re locked in”

“Gimme a moment!”

Above him the hallway lights flickered, before bathing the world in red. An alarm sounding. Something had gone wrong with the summoning. It had to have. There was no other reason. Shit! Lance... Hopefully he and Hunk weren’t back yet. He needed to call them, let them know something happened... Fuck. Fuck! He should have been there with Shiro. Shit...

“Keith, get back here!”

Leaving the lab door open, Keith jogged over to Pidge

“What is it?”

“There’s no phone service. I’ve got into the security system. The whole place is in lock down. I’m trying to keep the feed, but I’m being booted as I type. It’s the summoning, isn’t it?”

“It has to be. Coran said it’d take a while, but something must have happened. Is there any way you get me down there?”

“If I can clear the walls I should be able to get you to the elevator”

“Can you lift specific ones? I need to get to my locker”

“I’ll try. Shit, whoever programmed this knew what they’re doing. See if you can find service while I work”

Keith snatched his phone up, despite being issued by the Blades, the top showed no signal. Ignore it, he tried Lance’s normal phone, the call not even ringing before he was back to looking at his boyfriend’s number

“Do you have any weapons in here? I don’t care if they’re experimental, we need to be prepared in case the demon got loose”

“Can’t talk! Have a look!”

Pidge was typing furiously on her keyboard. Keith casting a glance around the lab. There had to be something there. The case. The case Lance had his feet on. It was as good as any place to start.

Opening the case, it contained a modified sniper rifle with a digital connection display. He’d never handled a gun like it before, but he felt better for having his hands on it

“Do you know what this does?”

Pidge didn’t have the luxury of turning to look to the weapon, her fingers moving way too fast

“What’s it look like?”

“A sniper rifle with some kind of display screen”

“That’s up from R and D. It’s supposed to shoot a concentrated beam of UV light, but I haven’t been able to test it yet”

Oookay. Not so handy against a demon, but handy if a hoard of vampires decided to drop by unannounced.

“Fuck! Shit... Keith, you’re going to want to take a look at this!”

Moving beside Pidge, Keith’s heart dropped. Hunk and Lance were in the building... six different feeds were on the screen, Pidge targeting the one that caught her attention, still typing in a seperate black window thing that he had no idea about

“Have we got audio?”

“We’ve barely got this. Shit... Lance doesn’t look good”

Hunched over heavily, Lance was gripping the elevator wall. His other hand on his stomach, but his face wasn’t visible. From his body language, Keith knew something was up. Watching Hunk move to Lance’s side, the pair exchanged words, Hunk checking down the back of Lance’s pants sending him into fresh panic

“We need comms. Can you hack the elevator?”

“Let me work on getting audio up and running”

The building shook again. Which had to be impossible. The place was designed for containment. The amount of power it would take... Pidge was doing all she could, but he needed to get to Lance. Then again, he couldn’t leave Pidge on her own

“Go check the other desks. I need another monitor. See if you can find anything useful”

Her blunt tone was filled with anger. He knew that tone too well, it came from being frustrated. He’d be practically sabotaging her attempts to figure out what was happening if he tried to help.

Following Pidge’s orders, Keith retrieved the monitor for her, plugging it in as she directed. He’d found nothing good on the desks, apart from two ear pieces though was unsure if they’d work. If Pidge could get them going, he could follow her instructions once she’d pulled up the building schematics and worked out how to get these walls down

“Keith, I’ve got audio for the elevator”

“Can they hear us?”

“Not yet. I’ve got to find the programming code in all this junk!”

“Play it”

On the screen Hunk had moved back to Lance’s side. Lance still hunched over. Dread creeping up his throat like a bouquet of rose thorns as his boyfriend’s voice came through

“Fuck... fucking... fuuuuck”

“Just keep breathing”

Lance snapped at Hunk, his face finally visible to the screen. His boyfriend wearing his scary face

“You still can’t reach Keith!?”

“Nope... I can’t get the doors open...”

“Damn... dammity damn”

“How far apart are the contractions?”

“Still pretty far... it’s the lingering pain...”

Contractions... No. No... it was too soon

“Keith...”

“I know. I need to get to Lance”

Pidge panicked hard

“I don’t know how long it’ll take to get the walls up!”

On the screen Lance felt for Hunk’s hand, grabbing it in his before falling against their friend

“Hunk...”

“I’ve got you, man. I’ve got you. Here, you should sit...”

“If I get the doors open... you... have to go for help...”

“I’m not about to leave you”

“The summonings gone wrong... I can feel it! My ego... my ego is mad..”

“Lance...”

“Please... please... I don’t want to hurt you”

Keith’s heart was racing. Things had... How could... What the...

“What do I do?”

“Can you get the doors open?”

“Not without risking dropping the elevator. It’s on its own system. Coran must have designed it for containment... to protect staff if something bad came”

Keith heard himself snap

“Something bad has come! There’s a fucking demon and Lance is losing the twins!”

“Don’t yell at me! I’m working as fast as I can!”

He deserved that.

“Hunk, I’m going to open the doors... I don’t know how long I can keep them open, if I push you through, you should make it okay...”

“I’m not leaving”

“You have to! I can’t protect you like this!”

“I...”

“Hunk, you’re strong. You’re strong and I know you can do this. Find a landline”

“There has to be...”

“I’m not leaving you. We’ll get the doors open and we’ll go together. If we can’t go out the doors then... then we’ll go through the hatch!”

“You don’t understand... I feel it... the demons aura... it won’t stop at just destroying this place... I can’t let it hurt you”

“Stop being stubborn! We’ll work this out!”

Lance broke down into sobs as he clung to Hunk

“I’m sorry!”

“It’s okay, Bud. But you need to calm down for me...”

“I need Keith...”

“I know. We’ll work it out. How do we get the doors open”

“I’ll pry them open. We can’t... be the only ones trapped...”

Lance brought up a good point. Dozens of people worked behind the scenes. They’d probably had training in what to do during a lock down, if Coran had remembered to tell them

“I’m on it. I can’t get a visual on the floor where Shiro is... He’ll be okay, won’t he?”

“Yeah. Yeah. If the demon wanted to hurt him, it’s had its chance...”

Plus Coran and Allura were there. Keith couldn’t help but feel if Pidge concentrated on just one project they’d be making more progress, but he wasn’t the one who made the tech side of things happen so had no right to boss her around.

It was an anxious wait. Keith didn’t take his eyes off Lance. Whatever he was feeling had upset his ego. Hunk was in a dangerous situation. Lance was likely to lose it if his ego thought Keith was in danger

“Okay. I’ve stopped the coding for the lockdown. And I’ve sent a virus through the system. It’ll concentrate on that, giving me time to do what I need to get the elevator comms on”

“Do it”

“I am. Fuck, when this is over, I’m doing to punch whoever coded this in the dick. These encryptions are no joke. Thankfully I’ve got more access than I should after what happened with Sendak. Coran hasn’t changed his passwords”

Coran would have changed the access if it hadn’t been Pidge. They were all proud of her, slightly scared of her, but she had her heart in the right place. She’d amazing all of them with finely honed skills. Keith seeing all the good in her that Lance bragged about

“He trusts you. Lance has been bragging about how smart you are for years”

“He does that...”

“He’ll be okay”

“I should be saying that to you”

“I have to believe he’ll be okay. He has to be. If his ego is upset, that could be... that could be stressing the twins. He can’t be in labour”

“Keith”

“He can’t be. He’s done everything he’s supposed to. How long until we get comms?”

Pidge swallowed hard, both she and Keith knew they were hoping too much for things to work out unnaturally smoothly

“A little while. It’s not like in the movies. I have figure all this out on the go”

“You can do it. I know you can”

*

Lance focused on his breathing. Slowly In and slowly out. His ego was getting madder by the minute. The foul black aura felt more and more sinister. Like the evil was creeping up the elevator shaft. He’d cried until his ego riled up. His tears drying up as he struggled to keep breathing. His priority was Hunk. He had to protect Hunk. And protect him from himself. His nails had grown out, the doors looking pretty damn tempting. But he was trying his hardest not to lose it at the situation.

“Guys?! Guys, can you hear us?!”

Lance jumped at the sound of Pidge’s unexpected voice. Hunk scrambled off the floor, rushing to the intercom that hadn’t been working so far

“Pidge?!”

“Hunk! Oh my god! Are you guys okay?!”

“I’m okay! But Lance... Pidge, is Keith there?”

“I’m here, Hunk. We’ve got you guys on screen. Lance, I see you”

Keith wasn’t hurt. Keith was with Pidge. His ego relieved. The darkness hadn’t swallowed Keith

“Keith, Lance is having cramps”

“We know. Coran’s got audio in there. It took a little bit to get it up on this end. We can’t get to you guys. They’ve dropped these walls in place... We can probably go up through the vents, can you guys get into the vents?”

Lance mentally sighed at his boyfriend. Like his pregnant arse was going to fit in any vent

“Don’t bother with the vents. Are you guys still in Pidge’s lab?”

“Lance, you need to speak up!”

He wasn’t speaking up? Hunk passed his question on

“He asked if you guys are still in Pidge’s lab”

“Yeah. Pidge is doing tech stuff”

“Don’t suppose she can get these doors open?”

“She doesn’t want to risk dropping the elevator. Lance, she says don’t touch the doors until she sees the emergency stop coding”

Fucking great. Trapped in a metal box dangled over a demon...

“Keith, the summoning went wrong. I felt a wave of this... this darkness. Stay where you are”

“I’m not going anywhere until Pidge gets the lockdown reversed”

“Babe, listen to me. If the summoning went wrong, there are three demons down there. You can’t take on three demons alone. Pidge, focus on the elevator. I need to get Hunk out of here safely. Coran has stairs all over this place. He wouldn’t trap his workers without a way for staff to evacuate safely. Have you got eyes on the bottom level?”

“No, Lance. Are you okay? We saw what happened...”

“It’s the summoning... We need to get out of here in case we need to drop the elevator”

Lance wasn’t giving up on his friends. He couldn’t give up on them. If the demon was lose, they needed to limit the ways it could escape. Had Hunk not been with him, he could have popped open the hatch and checked his options. Not that he was risking himself or his pregnancy, he could take full responsibility for his actions when he only had himself to consider. Rubbing his tender belly, he would have headed for help for them first, because that’s what Keith would want. The labs were some of the safest places in VOLTRON. They had to be. The technology there was sensitive and secretive. They couldn’t have a rampaging werewolf armed with tech. A vampire with a gun... actually, the vampire could do more damage without it.

[gemstoneconstellations]

What I missed

Summary: Some things aren’t meant to be.

Wordcount: 1800

“Nothing happened.” 

You stared at Shouto as he didn’t even glance at the picture, reading his book on the couch. He was so quick to defend himself, you didn't even have a chance to accuse him of anything. You didn't actually think anything had happened between him and his old classmate; your problem was the fact that he’d told you he was working late but he actually went to hang out with his former classmates. 

Last night, you were scrolling through some social apps when you saw that Shouto had been tagged in a few photos. The same night he’d cancelled plans with you. Instead, he’d been off having fun with friends, drinking. If he wanted to spend time with friends, all he needed to do was just tell you. Lying about it made it seem like he had something to hide.

But when faced with a picture of him and a tipsy Creati clinging to him, he avoids eye contact and is quick to end the conversation. Nothing happened he says… “With the way you are acting, it sure feels like something did!”

“This is why I didn't tell you,” Shouto huffed, still reading his book. You snatch the book from him and throw it on top of the coffee table. This argument was far from over. 

“Excuse me?! You make it sound like I’m some jealous monster! I know you and Creati are really good friends!” You know nothing is going on between them; they have always been close and you’d always been fine with that. You’d never felt threatened, nor doubted Shouto and the kind woman you’d met a few times now.

But Shouto seemed to only take your words as more accusations, his eyes narrowing at you. “Doesn’t mean I would do anything with her.”

“That is not what I'm saying! Stop making it seem like I’m the person in the wrong!” You stood up from the couch, yanking at your hair in frustration. “You do this all the time! I don't understand.”

“I don't need to tell you everywhere I go and what I'm doing all the time.” He continued to avoid the topic, crossing his arms. It always ends with you getting blamed for being controlling. Is it so bad that you just want to be in the loop about what is going on? Is that really too much?!

You are practically screaming now, standing in front of Shouto and hoping he would hear your words for what they are instead of what he perceived them to be. “Oh my god! Are you even listening to anything I’m saying?! You should have just told me what you wanted to do!”

Shouto stood up, his face now red with anger as he yelled back, “I’m listening; you want to take control of everything in my life! I don’t want my life choices to be controlled by anyone ever again.”

 Where did it all go wrong? When did it become normal for you two to yell at each other?

You took a few steps back as he moved around, picking up various items and putting them away. Did he really just…does he actually think you are trying to take over his life like that? Like…. 

“Are you comparing me to your father right now?! This is nothing like that, Shouto!” Your voice trembled as you followed Shouto around the house.

“How?” You flinched as he threw clothes into his hamper. 

“You lied to me about going to a party, like it was some big secret that you can’t tell me!”

“Nothing happened.”

“I didn't say anything did! I was never accusing you of cheating! But you keep getting so defensive, it’s making me think something actually did happen!” You were reaching your breaking point. He still wouldn't look at you. You are starting to think that maybe that photo was just the beginning of a long night that Shouto had had with her. “This isn't how a relationship works! You are supposed to talk to each other! Be honest! If you want to do things, just say so instead of lying about it!”

You pull on his shirt to stop him from walking away to do who knows what else and to just talk to you face to face. “You get mad when I tell you things.” Both of you were now yelling, voices getting louder and louder. You are sure your neighbors are going to file a noise complaint or something by the end of tonight.

“Since when?! I get mad because I caught you lying about things you don't need to be lying about! Why would you lie about hanging out with your friends?!”

“Cause you would get mad if I didn't cancel for a good reason!”

“What kind of monster do you think I am that would get mad that you want to hang out with your friends? That’s not a good enough reason to lie! Are you actually cheating on me? Is there someone? Is it Creati, is that why you are so defensive?” There can’t be any other reason forwhy he was telling so many white lies. You can’t possibly imagine what you did to make him think you wouldn't let him see his friends or do things without you. Was it really that hard to just talk to you?

He tried to pull away from you but you just clung harder to him, grabbing his arm. He needs to tell you the truth before you are willing to let go of him. “No! Nothing happened!” Shouto roughly yanked his arms away from you; you felt a push on your side and suddenly, you were falling. You landed on your butt, hard. “Ah, ___, are you alrig—”

Shouto reached down for you, but you quickly got up, ignoring the throb in your ankle and lower back. “I’m done! I can’t do this anymore! If you don't want me in your life that much, then fine, I won’t be!” You run out of his apartment, tears pouring down your cheeks. 

“___!” 

You don’t look back. If you did, you know you would go back only for it to be brushed under the rug like last time, the issue never resolved.

~

Todoroki sighed as he gathered his things from his locker, getting ready to go home for the first time in what felt like forever. Right after his argument with you, he’d been called for a mission that took an entire month to complete. He hoped that this was plenty of time for you to cool off so that he could apologize. The time spent alone working, he’d gotten to thinking, realizing that he really had been putting words in your mouth or jumping to conclusions by himself. He was so caught up in trying to make sure his relationship was nothing like his parents’ that it had twisted his views and made everything worse than it actually was.

He turned on his personal cell for the first time all month to call you and ask if he could come over and talk. He was surprised to see you had left him a few voicemails. Shouto listened to them as he began to walk home, but decided to head towards your house when he heard what you had to say.

“Shouto, please answer me…it’s important…I need you…”

He could hear the desperation and strain in your voice. The next messaged played.

“I miss you.”

You were crying so much that he could only understand those three words. He whispered back into his phone that he missed you too as the next message came on.

“Shouto it’s me… we need to talk in person… please call me, please!”

He frowned at his phone; hadn't you heard from his voicemail greeting that he was on a mission? Wait, did he set his voicemail before he went on the mission?

“Why? Why won’t you talk to me?!”

He must have forgotten…. Shouto began to run as he held the phone to his ear.

“Please...anything will do. Tell me you hate me, tell me to never call you again. Anything! Just talk to me.”

He could never! There’s nothing that would make him hate you! He’d been being an idiot.

“I love you Shouto, I still do, even though you don't care about me anymore.”

“___, no I love you,” he panted as you cried into the receiver.

“I can’t… do this, Shouto. I wanted to talk to you in person…. but it's been two weeks! You aren't answering my texts or phone calls. Your agency won’t let me in… but this is important…Shouto, I'm pregnant and I don't know what to do…”

What?

“I know you always wanted to have your own family, one with happiness…I get it now, you just don’t want it with me, do you?”

Of course he wanted to have a family with you! Not exactly right now…but yes, he would. He rushed up the stairs to your apartment, taking two steps at a time as the last message came on.

“Shouto…you don’t have to worry anymore about me. I’m at the doctor’s right now. This will be the last time I’ll call you.You have no reason to contact me anymore, you made it clear that you don't want anything to do with me or this baby… so I won’t have it. I can’t do it alone, I can’t raise your child…I’m not strong enough to do it.” He could hear someone calling your name about seeing the doctor. “Goodbye Shouto.”

You…you didn't. Please, tell him you didn't go through with it. He got to your apartment door and started banging on it, calling your name. “___! ___!” He dug through his duffle bag for his key ring with your spare key. He threw the door open to an empty apartment. All the furniture and decorations were long gone. The apartment smelled like cleaning products.  “___?”

“She moved dude. Like a week ago; she just packed her shit and left.” Shouto jumped at the sound of someone from behind him. It was your college-student neighbor.

“What?”

“She’s gone, bro. She didn’t tell you? Harsh man, sorry.” The kid went into his apartment, leaving Shouto alone in the doorway of your empty home. He looked at his phone; there were no more voicemails left. He quickly tried calling you, but none of his calls were going through. 

Sorry, the number you dialed is no longer in service—- I’m sorry, the number you dialed—- I’m sorry, the numb—

He hung up his phone and tossed it, crumbling to the ground and cradling his head in his hands. 

It had been the final nail in the coffin. It was painfully clear that he’d messed up. Everything was over. It really was…

The End.

[seasonofthegeek]

A Study in Jealousy, Part 2

A big thank you to @ladylb who requested a second part to this through ko-fi. Thanks for the support!

Parts 1, 2:

It wasn’t particularly easy realizing his feelings for Marinette and finding out she and Luka were officially dating in the span of a few hours but all in all, Adrien thought he was handling it rather well. He felt a little awkward for the remainder of the fundraising event but he made it through mostly unscathed.

“I just don’t know how to act around her now,” he frowned and did a slow spin in his desk chair. “Everything feels different.”

“Humans are complicated. She liked you and now you like her but she likes someone else,” Plagg sighed. “You know what isn’t complicated? Camembert.”

“What do you mean, she liked me?”

“Oh, come on, Kid. It was obvious. The poor girl was always falling all over herself around you. I’ve seen enough disgusting human romance in my time to recognise the signs.”

His chest felt tight. “Marinette liked me? I thought all of that was because she didn’t like me. I didn’t realize...I thought we were just friends.”

“It’s like my time before Camembert. I used to love Brie. It was my most favorite cheese ever but then my holder at the time had to give me Camembert in a pinch at a party and wow.” Plagg melted into a dreamy puddle on Adrien’s desk. “I can’t ever imagine loving another cheese more than I love Camembert now.”

“Am I supposed to be the Brie in this story?”

Plagg raised a small paw. “I’m sure there is someone else out there who loves Brie as much as I love Camembert.”

“Thanks, that’s...great.”

____

“Hey, Adrien! Are you going to be able to come to Juleka’s birthday party this weekend?”

Adrien looked up at Marinette with wide eyes and felt his cheeks heat up in an instant. “What?” he squeaked.

She smiled and pulled out her phone. She scrolled a bit and then turned the screen to him to show an invitation done in black and purple. “Juleka’s party. Everyone got invitations. Didn’t you?”

He cleared his throat. “Oh, yes! I mean, um, yeah, I did. I’m hoping I’ll get to come. Are you going?”

Her cheeks went a little pink as she nodded. “I’m helping Luka and Anarka set everything up so I’ll definitely be there. I hope you can make it.” She touched the edge of his desk before moving on to sit down behind him.

Adrien slumped in his seat and Nino leaned over. 

“You okay, dude?” he asked quietly.

“Yeah,” he sighed. “I’m good.”

He had a difficult time concentrating the rest of the day. Was this what it was like to be friends with Marinette? She seemed so different but not in a bad way. She talked to him like he’d seen her talk to so many of their friends. He thought that was what he wanted from her but he realized he’d been wishing for something different and now it was too late.

___

“You’ve seemed down lately, Chaton,” Ladybug commented. “Do you need to talk about anything?”

He shrugged. “I’ll be fine.”

They sat on the edge of one of the roofs outside the Louvre on an akuma watch after a particularly hot day. Akumas seemed to be more frequent when the weather was just warm enough to make people miserable.

“You told me once that you were in love with someone.”

Ladybug jumped a little at the sudden comment and looked at her partner.  “Yeah, I guess I did.”

“Did things work out for you with him?”

A sad smile spread across her lips and she shook her head. “Not romantically but we’re friends now and it’s really...it’s actually really nice. I was a bit of a nutcase around him and I like that we can just talk now and I’m not always worried about things between us.”

“What changed?”

Her smile transitioned into a much happier one. “I met someone else.” Her eyes widened slightly. “Wait, is this weird to talk about with you?”

He chuckled and shook his head. “I’m okay. If I’m being honest, there’s someone else for me too now.”

“Is it mean to say that makes me feel better?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Then I’ll just say I’m happy for you,” she amended and reached over to squeeze his hand. “But you don’t seem happy.”

“Well, she’s with someone else now. I guess I kinda realized how I felt about her too late.”

“Oh, that’s too bad.”

“Yeah.” He kicked the heel of his boot against the brick. “Don’t get me wrong; I love being her friend.” He leaned over to knock his shoulder against hers. “Just like I love being your friend, but I guess it takes time to get over those romantic feelings.”

“It does,” she agreed. “And with some people, I don’t know if you ever really get over them. It’s more like you pack the feelings up in a box in your mind and put them in the back of a closet. They aren’t gone forever but they aren’t taking up all your brain space anymore.”

“Maybe that’s what I need to do. I’m struggling a little bit. She’s all I can think about and then I feel like a jerk because I should’ve seen it sooner.”

“Not knowing how you feel about someone doesn’t make you a jerk,” Ladybug said gently. “Just like not reciprocating someone’s feelings doesn’t make you a jerk.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Time has made things easier for me. At first, I wasn’t sure how to act around him either but now it feels better. You just have to let yourself take that time. And you never know, things could change and at some point, you’ll be able to bring out that box of feelings and try again in the future.”

“Maybe,” Chat Noir agreed, “but you’re right. I just need to give it time. I really do want to be her friend, even if that’s all we ever end up being.” He smiled at Ladybug. “Thanks, Bugaboo. I think I really needed this.”

She looped her arm through his and rested her head on his shoulder. “What are best friends for.”

___

Adrien was nervous as he walked up the makeshift plank to the boat. He wanted to be Marinette’s friend. He would be; he was determined to be her friend. He found Nino and Alya immediately and took shelter with them as the crowd of party goers grew. He kept a watchful eye out for Marinette and caught glimpses of her and Luka weaving in and out of people throughout the night. After almost an hour, he spotted her alone at the bow of the boat and he carefully made his way to her.

She beamed at him when he tapped her shoulder. “You made it! I was wondering if you were going to come.”

He nodded and looked back out over the rest of the party. “There are so many people here. I didn’t realize Juleka had all these friends.”

Marinette giggled. “She’s pretty loved. Look, Chloe even made an appearance.” She pointed and they watched Chloe and Sabrina sip punch and whisper to each other as they looked around.

“This is awesome. I’m happy for her.”

“Me too. Luka said she never wanted to have parties when she was younger because she was afraid she didn’t have friends so this is great.”

Adrien swallowed against his fear. “So I heard about you and Luka. That’s really nice for you guys.”

Marinette blushed and it made his heart ache a little to see the pretty pink color on her cheeks. “Yeah, I guess it’s something we’ve been dancing around for a while and we finally told each other how we felt and well...” She gave him a happy helpless shrug.

With a small thought to himself, Adrien packed up his romantic feelings for Marinette into a little box in his mind and put them in the closet. “I’m really happy for you,” he said and even though the ache was still there, he realized he actually meant it.

Buy me a cherry coke?

[turnupbrock]

Perfectionist- Chapter Three  -Colby Brock

This was a requested series by @black-colby-pink “ dude you should write a series, I would read it. “ So that’s what I’m doing. I really hope you guys like it because I like writing it so far and I have interesting plans for it in the future.

Tags list: @absolute-randomness-forever @scottybrock @black-colby-pink @softboybrock @now-imagine @azurebrock @sweetxplr @rewindfridaynight

(Let me know if you want to be tagged :) )

 Time was running out. Murders were piling up. Your friends started looking at each other differently, scared that one of them might be the treacherous human that is killing people. Watching your back was starting to become a second mantra in all of your heads. You all started to study each person you pass on the street, trying to see if they had anything suspicious about them. Something. Anything that would pop out at you. You got more anxious every second that passed without you finding a suspect. Noah ended up being a dead end. He just cut his fucking hand before coming in and that’s why he was bleeding. His alibi was almost identical to Kian’s. He was working the bar that night, not the floor so he wouldn’t even have the time to murder someone. You anxiously sat at your kitchen counter, looking back at the notes that everyone has taken. You didn’t care that you were running on coffee and an hour of sleep. You so desperately wanted to find the answers to what was going on. Reggie had left hours ago, for it was two in the morning. Colby had tried to get you to bed after Reggie left but you insisted on staying up for a couple more minutes to clean up, that was said two hours ago. And here you are, still sitting on a bar stool, reading and rereading, making notes, connecting dots that you didn’t notice before. It didn’t matter that your head felt like it was going to explode for the pressure of your headache, the only thing that mattered was finding the man or women that has decided to go on a murder rampage these past few weeks You needed to find who took four innocent lives in a span of two weeks. It started to scare Colby with how invested you were in the whole case. Yes, he knew that this was messing with you because of how close that it hit home but it was starting to get out of hand.

“Baby, it’s time to come to bed,” Colby’s voice made you jump three feet into the air from your chair. Placing a hand over your racing heart you managed to stammer, “ Jesus, Colby you scared the living shit out of me.” Your heart was still beating out of your chest. Colby’s eyes softened and he walked over to you, his grey joggers hanging low on his hips, his shirtless chest shining at you, with his freshly washed purple hair hanging over his forehead, his hair was curly, bouncing with every step that he took. If you were being honest, you were exhausted. You wanted nothing more than to just lay down with your boyfriend, let his warmth envelope you, to be able to sleep in his arms again. You didn’t notice it but you were breaking. Inside and out. It broke Colby’s heart to see you cry. He watched you break down, right in front of him. In your infamous black ‘Adidas’ jogger and his black and gray shirt. He rushed over to where you where standing, tears silently running down your face. “What’s wrong baby?” he asked pulling you into his arms, sinking to the kitchen floor with you. You couldn’t reply, the feeling of drowning took over you. The only sounds that were escaping your lips were whines and whimpers. “Shh, it’s okay baby. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere, I promise.” Colby’s soothing voice surrounded you and you felt yourself relax more into his warm chest. “I don’t get it. How the fuck is everything so perfect? Whoever is behind this, is perfectly covering their tracks. I mean seriously, there has been no fingerprints, no hair, no footprints, hell not even a fiber of another person other than the dead.” Your voice was shaky as you clung tighter to Colby. He ran a soothing hand down your back, “ I know baby. I know that it’s frustrating but we will find out who is doing this and then everything will go back to normal.” He replied. You took a deep breath, inhaling his scent letting it take over you and calm you down.  

Once you finally hit the cold sheets that wrap your mattress, you were out. Deep into sleep, something that you hadn’t had the past couple of weeks. However, your dreams were still diluted with unsolved murders. No matter how hard you tried to shove those out of your mind so you could get some actual rest, nothing worked. It was like your brain was on repeat. A continuous loop. Replaying everything that you have collected. To say the least, you didn’t get much sleep. But the small periods of time that your brain went blank and you slept peacefully, was the best. It may have not been exactly what you needed but at least you got something. Dragging your tired figure from your bed, the sound of hushed whispers caught your attention. Sneaking over to the cracked door of the bed room, the voices grew slightly louder. Still whispering though. Almost as if they were hiding something.

 Or they were just trying to keep you asleep. 

“I don’t get it Sam. This is getting out of control. Not only is driving her insane but it’s taking a toll on her mind. I- I swear she hasn’t been sleeping whatsoever. I’m worried about her brother.” Colby’s voice was a rough whisper. “Colby, I know brother. I can see it. She’s not herself...but- nevermind.” Sam said. In my head I could almost see him running a hand through his blonde hair that was swept to the side. “What were you going to say?” “Hear me out dude. I don’t want you to get mad or anything but..” Sam trailed off, “What if..okay. Colby have you ever thought that all of this is starting to sound like some other murders that we heard of?” Sam finished. Colby dove into his mind, raking it to see if any of this was starting to sound familiar. 

Nothing.

He shook his head, looking expectantly at his best friend. “No,” Sam sighed and drug his hand through his hair. Colby could see that he was nervous. He didn’t know why but with Sam saying that he didn’t want Colby to get mad at him for something. “ Sam just spit it out dude,” Sam chewed his lip, studying Colby with his blue eyes. Finally he let out a long breath, shifting in his spot on Colby’s gray cloud couch. “ Her brother, Drew,” Colby immediately stiffened. Your blood ran cold in your veins once Sam had spoken the name of your brother. Sam noticed this and held out his hands out, palms up, “Hear me out. His first murder was in a club in their hometown. No one caught him. Then his second murder was in a street alley at night, no one caught him. Third murder, at a hotel. Once again no one caught him. Then his fourth murder. Movie theater. No one caught him. Do you see? The places are lining up with the recent murders. Think about it, the first murder was at Borders’. Which is a club. Then the second one occurred in an alleyway, downtown Hollywood. The third murder at the ‘Hotel Silver’. Most recently, the fourth murder. Ipic theaters.” “ What are you trying to say Sam?” Colby asked. His voice was harder than usual, his fists clenched. Sam took notice to his sudden change in posture and facial expression. You stood at your door, heart racing. You knew what Sam was insinuating and not only are you infuriated that he could think something like this but you are saddened that he would think that you had the heart or even the gut to..kill someone. 

You swore on everything that you would never turn into the monster that your brother turned out to be. Hints why you left your family. Not wanting to even get the chance to turn into him. You refused to. Sam scooted away from Colby slightly, “ What if...what if it’s her?” Sam finally spit out. Colby jumped up from his seat but before he could get any words out, you swung your bedroom door open, so forcefully that the doorknob jammed into the wall. Both Sam and Colby’s head snapped to the newly found noise. You didn’t even look at Colby, too focused on the blonde that was standing as well, his eyes wide. “What the fuck Sam?!” you yelled, not bothering to be quiet. “I- “ You cut him off, “ No Sam, you weren’t just suggesting. Don’t you think that I know that all of this is lining up with my brother’s murders? I know! I figured that out days ago! You think I’m the one behind all of these murders? Okay. Tell me this then Sam, the first muder at the Club, I was with Colby the entire night. The murder in the alley, I was with YOU and the entire friend group. The murder at the Hotel Silver, I was with Reggie getting into the camera’s that are on the street near the alley way. The iPics theater murder, I was here. Going through our notes and documents. So please tell me, how the fuck I would have time to murder four fucking people! When I was with you, Reggie, Colby or the entire fucking group the whole time!” Your voice was hoarse and your throat was starting to ache with the force of your voice. Colby stood there looking from you to Sam. Sam hadn’t said anything yet, he just stared at the ground. You huffed out a breath and reached your hands up to wipe the tears that were spilling from your eyes. 

Finally Sam looked up to meet your eyes that were still glued to him. He looked sorry, anyone could see that. “ You’re right. I’m so so sorry. I just got to thinking about the timeline and all of the places that murders have taken place. I forgot that you were with Colby when the first murder happened. I just got too into my head. All of this is making all of us go crazy. I shouldn’t have even considered that you could be the one. I know that it’s messed up when I know about your past and what you went through. I’m truly am so sorry.” he spilled out. He was talking fast but not too fast and his face read nothing but sorrow and regret. You didn’t say anything, not really knowing how to reply to that. You were going to just forgive him like that. He just tried to tell your boyfriend that you were a fucking murderer. Hell, he probably told the whole damn group about his suspicions. “Who else did you tell?” Colby asked, his voice gruff and clearly annoyed with his friend. “I haven’t told anyone else, I wanted to talk to Colby first.” he said. Sam shifted, running his fingers through his hair once again. Keeping his gaze glued to the dark hardwood floor boards.  Awkward silence filled the entire apartment, no one dared to speak or move. You wrapped your arms around yourself in an act of comfort. You were trying to figure out why Sam would think that it would be you. Yes, the murders were lining up with your brothers but you didn’t do it. You knew that you would not be able to do it. 

“Brother,” Colby started, finally breaking the silence. “ I can see why you would think that. But seriously? My girlfriend. One of your best friends. You know that she wouldn’t be able to do that.” he said moving over to stand next to you. Wrapping your arms around his waist, you buried your face into his chest. His arms came around your waist, letting you snuggle into him more. You were content, your head was still spinning with the thoughts of Sam, someone that you wished was your actual brother because of how close you guys are. You weren’t paying attention to the conversation that was still going on. Frankly, you were trying to make sure that you didn’t lash out and hurt his feelings. You never wanted to hurt Sam but you also couldn’t help feeling upset at him for insinuating something like that. You felt Colby’s arms drop from your back, you pulled away as well and turned around, coming face to face with Sam once more. “I really am sorry.” he spoke. You stared at him for a second and mentally cursing yourself for caving. You walked up to him and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug. He let out a sigh of relief and happily enveloped you into his arms. You squeeze him quick before pulling back, “It’s fine. I know that this whole thing is tripping everyone out.” You replied offering him a small smile. Sam returned it then sighed, “So we still have nothing,” You debated telling them what you found out the other day. After a second you said, ‘fuck it’ knowing that you can’t keep the information to yourself. “I think that I found something out but I didn’t want to tell anyone anything because I didn’t want to make anyone mad.” You said fiddling with your hair. “Wait, you mean, you think that you found a suspect?” Colby asked. You nodded, “Yeah, me and Reggie. But not one suspect..there’s two.” You said looking from Colby to Sam, unsurely. “Well, who?” Sam asked. You took a deep breath,

“Corey and Aryia.”

[xnovamore]

Part 2 of my previous entry for the Home for the holidays event run by @femslashfairies and @ftmlmages

Gratsu and Lucana, mentions of past Graycana

Gray entered through the door of his house quietly hoping to slip in past his parents. He threw one more desperate glance at his phone screen, yet it still remained blank. Mentally cursing his boyfriend, he rushed towards the stairs leading to his room only to be stopped by a booming voice in the kitchen.

“Gray! Did you get our drinks?”

Cursing once again, Gray walked towards the kitchen where his parents sat at the head of the table.  Their frown at his empty hands turned into a worried look once they saw his face. He must have looked as panicked on the outside as he felt on the inside because her mother walked over speaking in a concerned tone.

“Gray? I haven’t seen you look this worried in a long time! Did something happen?” She placed a hand on chin twisting his face around as if looking for an injury.

“I’m fine mom!” He stepped away from her hands. “But uh…Gil-I mean Mr. Gildarts invited me over to his house for dinner-but I don’t have to go if you want to eat together like we usually do! I can just tell him I can’t come and-”

“Nonsense!” Silver barked slapping an arm on his son’s shoulders. “You haven’t had a play-date with little Cana in forever! You two used to be so close until you started college. What happened?”

Chucklingly nervously, Gray avoided his parents gaze. “We just grew apart is all.”

They eyed him suspiciously before Silver shrugged. “Well it happens, but that’s no excuse to keep avoiding her. Your both adults now. it would be good for both of you to reconnect.”

At that moment, Gray’s phone went off in a familiar buzz. Moving away from his parents he quickly glanced at his phone and confirmed it was the man he’s been waiting for to text him. His parents suspicious looks doubled as he stuttered out an excuse of needing to change before running off to his room.

Gray slammed the door shut behind him letting its slam echo down the halls. His fist connecting to the brown wood came next. He hated this. Hated the constant fear and anxiety and lying whenever he talked to his parents about these things. Not only did they not know about Cana, they didn’t know about anyone he dated. From high school till now, Gray never said a word about any of his partners to his parents. He’s never been in a relationship as far they know. He’s not even sure what he’s so scared of either. Before, he never told them because he was still unsure himself, then he never said anything because he didn’t think the small number of relationships he had after Cana were substantial enough to bring home. Well, until now that is.

Gray pulled out his phone and eager to read Natsu’s response. Like magic, all the anxiety and fear he was feeling at the moment vanished as his lips twitched into a smile.

Wha??

Im confused

Am I the girlfriend orrr??

Cus if I am fuck u snowflake

Chuckling Gray hit the ‘call’ phone.

“Hello?”

“No you fucking idiot.”

“Oh shut the hell up! First you didn’t text me back when we were talking about your parents dick then Erza made me help her clean her apartment! Now I’m sore and Happy’s upset cause he’s home alone again since you’re not here. Then you texted me weird shit”

That’s right, Gray had texted him before leaving to the coffee shop. Before he started driving he texted Natsu a very important question that he has yet to read the answer to. “Oh yeah…my bad. Something came up and I didn’t read your reply before texting you again.”

“Dude what happened? You sound all weird.”

Rolling his eyes at his boyfriend’s vocabulary, Gray flopped down on his bed. “You remember my ex-girlfriend I told you about? The one that lives across the street from me?”

“The one into tarot reading? Yeah.”

“I ran into her dad. He wants me to come over to dinner…tonight.”

Gray retold the story with wild hand gestures and dramatics Natsu couldn’t see but the man knew his boyfriend well enough to envision. It took about 5 minutes and various threats for Natsu to stop laughing. It was moments like these Gray wished Natsu was there so he could punch him. “Natsu your still as annoying as when we first met!” He hissed into the phone.

“Calm down ice princess! It’s just funny you got so worked up. Didn’t you say you grew up together? What’s the big deal about going to dinner?”

“Because we dated! And we broke up without ever really talking about everything.”

“She doesn’t know your bi?”

“I told you Natsu no one here does. She knows I’d been with a guy but I wasn’t sure about my sexuality back then.”

“But you asked me if I wanted to meet your parents earlier?”

“Yeah I know…” Gray closed his eyes thinking about the text he hastily sent before leaving for the coffee shop. “I meant it. I’m tired of keeping this from his parents. I want you to meet them Natsu-that is if you want? I actually haven’t read your response.”

“Of course I do!” Natsu snorted as if the question was ridiculous. The words sent warmth throughout Gray. The knowledge that Natsu wanted this too, was just as serious about them as Gray was, made him swoon every time. Not that he’d ever tell Natsu that, of course.

“But only if you go to that dinner tonight.”

“What? Why!”

“Because she’s important to you Gray. Someone doesn’t need to leave your life permanently after a breakup. You can be exes and still care for each while just being friends. Look at me and Erza! Breakups aren’t always a bad thing. Sometimes you are both good people that are better off not dating.”

Gray took time to think it over as Natsu stayed uncharacteristically quiet over the phone. Gray couldn’t lie, he did miss Cana. The two years not speaking to her had always weighed down on him. He had met a lot of wonderful people at university, but none of them knew him and his history the way she did. Every semester break he would glance over at her house and imagine walking over to say hi, but he could never get the courage to do it. Gosh he wanted to though. “You’re not bothered by this?” He asked Natsu softly.

He could tell Natsu was rolling his eyes at him. “Are you bothered by me and Erza hanging out? No, I trust you idiot.  Buy her flowers, go to dinner, and get your friend back. Text me your address tonight and we can handle you coming out to your parents together.”

It was moments like this that he was so thankful Natsu had thrown up on him during their first day of university. He didn’t know where he’d be without his pink-haired fiery tempered little punk. “I love you. I love you so much.”

“I know, I love you too. I’ll see you tomorrow Gray.”

~

Gray had been mentally crafting a script of what he was going to say since he left his house. Armed with bouquet in hand, he approached the Clive-Alberona house only to freeze once reached the stairs. There leaning against the wall was the girl whom he’d been thinking of the entire day.

She smiled at him causally as if they were 16 again and Gray was coming over as always after school. Her hair was shorter than he remembered, maybe she cut it? And she had a tattoo on her wrist of what looked like keys but that was the only difference he could see. She still had the same chestnut brown hair and leather jacket she loved wearing when it was cold out. Still wore her blue jeans over thigh-high that he once told her made ass look great.

Still wore the silver necklace he brought for her 18th birthday, the last birthday they spent together.

“Hey.” He said when he finally reached her.

“Hey stranger.” She said back. Her eyes roamed over him the same way his did her before stopping on the banquet of irises.

He quickly jerked them towards her. “These are for you!”

She blinked in surprised before taking them hesitantly. Her fingers ran across the petals as she looked at the bouquet like it was mystery she needed to solve. “Thank you?”

He nodded and walked to sit on the stairs. She followed. They spent of few minutes in quiet until she broke it. “Why flowers Gray?”

“It just seemed like the right thing to do.”

“Why? You don’t…you don’t want to get back together do you?”

“What? No! It’s not that type of gift!” Gray waved his hands around in exasperation then tried to take the flowers back when she laughed.

“Sorry I was just making sure! I didn’t think you would avoid me 2 years if you wanted to get back together anyway.”

The silence came back.

“I thought you were avoiding me?”

She shrugged looking away. “Maybe I was.”

Gray wasn’t sure what to say to that. He tried to search her face but keep her head turned away. Instead his eyes were once again pulled to her tattoo. Now that he was closer, he could see that is looked a group of tiny keys held together by a golden string. The string made a loop with what looked to be like initials inside.

“Cool tattoo.”

Her hand covered it almost instinctively. The small smile that overtook her face immediately caught his interest. It was soft, loving almost. He had only seen her look like that when they had found time to sneak off and just be them.

Oh

“Is it for someone special?”

She turned back towards him examining his face. Whatever she saw, or didn’t see, seemed to make her relax. “Maybe. Would it bother you if it did?”

“No.”

And he meant it. Even after these years, he could still read Cana and that small smile spoke a thousand words. The thought of Cana being happy in a relationship with someone else brought him nothing but joy. He felt the panic from earlier completely disappear. He was so stuck on viewing Cana as an ex that he forgot she was also his best-friend. And he wanted nothing more than for his best-friend to be happy. He now understand what Natsu meant during their call. He was going to get his best friend back.

“I’m glad Cana, I mean it.”

She smiled she gave him was a large one filled with unspoken warmth and relief. “Thanks Gray, that means a lot.” She bumped his shoulder with hers. “What about you? I don’t believe you’ve been single all this time.”

“Yeah well I uh-…” He paused taking a breath. This was far from his first time talking about his sexuality. All his friends at college knew he was bi and dating Natsu. And this wasn’t just anyone, this was Cana. The person who, once upon a time, knew him better than anyone. He smiled into her brown eyes.

“My boyfriend was the one who told me to buy you flowers.”

“Oh?” She didn’t even seem surprised. “Well tell him I said thank you. He seems like a great guy; you were never this sweet to me before.”

Its like a weight was lifted off his chest. He threw his head back in laughter. He laughed and laughed until he felt tears bristling to the corners of his eyes. “You’re such a lair Cana. You never liked this kind of stuff anyway. Does your boyfriend buy you flowers?”

“Lucy.”

“What?”

She gave him that soft smile again. “Not a boyfriend. Lucy.”

Oh

“Lucy then.” They bumped shoulders again and Gray knew they were going to be alright.

~

Lucy, it turns out, was a bubbling blonde with a big smile and a matching tattoo of keys and initials on her wrist. She was also a frequent dinner quest at the Clive-Alberona household and Gildart’s proud future-daughter-in-law (both she and Cana went red when Gildarts said that making Gray laugh so hard he didn’t mind Cana’s punch to the gut). Lucy was also sweet. She didn’t look at Gray with any hint of malice and made an effort to make sure he was included in all of their conversations. She had pulled him aside before they sat down to eat and told him she was so happy he was back in Cana’s life.

“It doesn’t bother you?” He asked her the same question he asked Natsu.

“No way! You’re good for her. She doesn’t open up easily to people and I know she missed you. I’m glad you two and can move on together as friends.”

He decided then that he really liked Lucy. “I’m glad she has you too. I can tell she really loves you.”

Throughout the dinner Cana’s gaze never strayed too far from Lucy. It was on her hands when Lucy was helping serve the food. It was on her mouth when Cana told a stupid joke just to make her laugh. It was on her lips when Lucy caught her staring and threw a small smirk Cana’s way. It was on the tattoo when Lucy laced their fingers together and let them rest on top of the dinner table. Gildarts caught his look and gave a knowing smile. It made Gray wonder if Cana told him about them, but that was a conversation for another time.

Lucy turned bright red and gave him a wide twinkling smile. “I love her too, more than anything.”

~

It was after dinner that Gray and Cana headed back outside to together in front of what used to be their treehouse. They had talked about everything in lives from their high school graduation until now. They filled the time until the sun set and the sky darkened into night with tales of their college adventures and plans for their holiday break. It wasn’t until the topic of Natsu meeting his parents that they paused.

“I could come with you, if you want.”

The words were quiet but sincere. He knew that she meant it, that if he asked she would be there at his doorstep by his and Natsu’s side as he opened up to his parents.

His smile stretched wide wondering once again how he got so lucky to still have her in his life. “I think I’d like that.”

[jeffxwittek]

Love At First Beer | Todd X Reader

A/N: This is my first Todd imagine and I hope you guys like it...idk what else to say besides let me know what you think!! Request: being friends w natalie and she introduces you to the vlog squad at coachella and you end up hooking up w todd -anonymous Summary: You meet Todd during Coachella weekend and the two of you hit it off. Warnings: drinking, sex (implied)

—————

You feel like you’ve been driving forever as you pull up to the house the rest of Natalie’s friends were staying at. You had known Natalie for a while, yet never had a chance to meet her friends. She thought Coachella weekend would be a perfect time for everyone to meet you. You reluctantly agreed and now you’re finding yourself nervously shaking while getting out of your car. You send Natalie a quick just parked text and make your way to the front door.

Before you have a chance to knock, Natalie swings the door open. “Y/N! You’re here!” She has a beer in hand, a sight you don’t usually see.

“Hey, Nat! Sorry I’m late. Work was a bitch with letting me leave early.” You step into the house and throw your bag into the corner.

“C’mon. Let me introduce you to everyone!” Natalie grabs your hand and drags you through the house to the backyard where people are jumping into the pool, running with water guns, and playing beer pong. Not the surrounding you usually see Natalie in. She’s always calm and reserved when you two are together.

She takes you over to the lawn where you see a shaggy haired boy in all black, camera in hand, filming two other guys chugging Coronas. “This is David, Todd, and Zane.”

“Hey. I’m Y/N.” You say as David turns around and points the camera in your face.

“Hi! Wanna join?” David asks enthusiastically.

“Uh, yeah, sure. Why not.” You grab a beer off the table next to you and pop it open stepping in front of the camera next to the two other boys.

“1, 2, 3, GO!” David yells as you all start chugging the beers as fast as possible.

You’re the first to finish and drop your bottle to the grass and look over to the others finishing up the last of their beers.

Zane looks at you with shocked eyes. “Woah! How’d you do that? I’m supposed to be the beer champ.”

“Beginners luck?” You shrug your shoulders as Todd flips his hair and makes eye contact with you for the first time. Maybe it was the fact you just chugged a beer on an empty stomach, spent God knows how long in the car, or it could be that you were just completely in awe of the beauty standing in front of you, but you suddenly became speechless as Todd smiles at you.

“Beginners luck looks good on you,” Todd says reaching his hand out to you. “I’m Todd.”

You reach to shake his hand and open your mouth, but no words come out. Natalie jumps behind you putting her hands on your shoulder. “She’s Y/N and she’s just a little shy.”

“DAVE! COME LOOK AT THIS!” You hear someone yell as the boys run off together.

You turn around to Natalie with flushed cheeks. “Oh. My. God. He’s beautiful.” You turn over your shoulder and see Todd leaning against David looking at his camera.

“Todd?” Natalie perks up with a smile. “I knew it!”

“Knew what?!”

“That you would like him!”

“Like him? I don’t know him!” You get slightly defensive. “I just think he’s attractive,” you say calmly.

Natalie rolls her eyes and loops her arm with yours. “Whatever. Let’s just get you another drink.” — A couple hours later a party bus pulls up in front of the house and David calls for everyone to get in. “COME ON GUYS! Jack said SeatGeek has a VIP tent and we need to go!” Camera in hand again, David films everyone climbing into the bus while you’re putting your shoes on and checking you have everything in your bag.

Natalie pops her head through the door. “You coming?”

You look up and give her a half smile. “Be right out.” You pick up your stuff and make your way to the bus and find yourself looking around for a place to sit. You see Natalie is already sitting with Joe and Jason.

“Y/N!” You look over to see Todd with his hand up. “Over here.”

You walk over to Todd and sit down next to him. “Hey.”

“You chugged that beer like a pro earlier by the way. I’ve never seen a girl take back a drink like that.” He says looking at you impressed.

“Thank you for the kudos. I guess going to a party school for college had its perks.” You open your bag. “Speaking of party schools,” you say pulling a flask out. “The one thing I learned from college was to never leave home without one of these.”

“Ah. My kind of girl. May I?” He says gestures towards the flask.

You hand it to him happily. “Go ahead.” You watch him take a sip and laugh when he gags.

“Okay. I did not peg you for a vodka girl at first sight,” he scoffs handing the flask back to you.

“You mean Natalie didn’t tell you I was full of surprises?” You joke putting the flask back in your bag.

“She mentioned looks, brains, and wit but seemed to have left that small detail,” he jokes.

You can’t help but blush over his comment and look over to Natalie who is smiling at the two of you connecting. You two talk for the rest of the the ride not realizing that you’ve pulled up to the venue.

You suddenly see a hand come and smack Todd against the head. “What the fuck, Scott?” Todd touches the side of his head. “I was having a conversation.”

“Let’s go liquor up,” Scott says walking off the bus.“I guess we’ll finish this later?” Todd asks.

“Sounds like a plan,” you smile at him getting off the bus to find Natalie and tell her about talking with Todd. “Girl. Why didn’t you tell me about him sooner? He’s amazing!”

“Todd? Amazing? Yea, he’s good looking. But amazing? Might be a stretch,” Natalie laughs.

“No, Nat. He’s smart and funny and he even laughed at my lame jokes that you don’t even laugh at. Like genuinely laughed at them.”

“Even you’re whale joke?”

“Yes. Even my whale joke.” You roll your eyes. “Let’s just go to the tent.” — Later in the tent you’re walking by yourself and see Todd talking with David, Jeff, and Jason. You stop and sit quietly at a nearby table and listen in on if he says anything about you while you pretend to be on your phone.

“Guys, really. She even has this little toy whale in her bag and has this bit where she pretends to to look for something and then pulls it out and says ‘whale, whale, what do we have here?’” He laughs at the thought of the bit you did earlier on the party bus.

Jeff hits him on the arm. “C’mon, dude. You’re saying all this over a toy whale?”

“Give it a rest, Jeff. Todd’s in loooooooove,” David mocks Todd.

“Oh shut up, losers. I’m not in love. She’s just kind of cool,” Todd says pushing his friends playfully.

You can’t help but blush to yourself as you listen in on their conversation.

Hours pass and you find yourself alone again sitting on a bench outside the tent hoping you magically find cell service. You see someone sit beside you and look up to see Todd holding two beers. “Two beers?” You question. “Someone is getting alcohol happy.”

He hands one to you. “Ones for you. Thought you could use a refreshment.”

“Thank you, Todd.” You grab the beer from his hand. “Cheers.”

“Cheers to what?”

“To—,” you think for a moment. “New friends.”

“To new friends,” Todd repeats as you clink bottles and start drinking. — Drinks later, you find yourself stumbling back into the rental house with your arms wrapped around Todd. You can’t remember seeing anyone perform at the festival, but you remember a lot of drinks and little food being put into your body. Todd walks you down the hall into his bedroom and lays you down on the bed.

“You wanna sleep in here tonight, Y/N?” He asks helping you take your shoes off.

You prop up leaning back on your arms and look at him through glossy alcohol eyes. “If you want me to.”

He sits down next to you on the bed and pushes some hair behind your ear. “I’d like that. We can talk more.”

It’s silent for a couple seconds before your drunken thoughts become vocal. “Kiss me.”

“What?” Todd looks taken aback by those words.

“Kiss me.” You sit up straighter. “We’ve been hanging out and talking all day. We wouldn’t have done that if there wasn’t some connection here.” You shrug your shoulders. “I may be drunk, but I’m not so drunk that I’m blind to what’s happening here. Even Natalie caught onto something on the bus earlier. If I’m wrong then tell me so I can leave and not waste my—”

Todd’s lips crash into yours mid-rant and you can taste the mixture of beer, tequila, and the vodka from your flask mix together in passionate kiss.

Todd pulls away and whispers, “Wanna know a secret?”

“Sure.”

“I wasn’t going to come this weekend, but Natalie told me that you were coming and showed me a picture. I knew I had to meet you.”

“Well, I’m glad you decided to come.” You lean in to give Todd another kiss and he wraps his hands around your waist pulling you close to him.

“I’m glad I came too.” He kisses your neck and you let out a light sigh. “Oh, you like neck kisses?”

“I mean, I don’t hate them,” you joke.

“Then, what about this?” He starts kissing your jaw and makes his way down your neck to your collar bone.

You let out a laugh and pull away. “As much as I do enjoy that, I can’t. Natalie obviously wanted us to meet, but I don’t think she wants this to happen.”

“Look,” Todd sighs and let’s go of you. “Y/N. If you really don’t want to do this, that’s fine. But please don’t let Natalie be the person to stop you from doing something. Like you said, she wanted us to meet. She’s probably expecting this to happen.”

You roll your eyes knowing that Todd is right. “Fine. Let’s do this.” You pull your shirt off and look at Todd’s shocked face. “What? You wanted to do this.”

“I just—,” Todd rubs his eyes. “You’re beautiful, Y/N. From the moment I saw a picture I’ve thought so and now you’re here.”

“You’re right. I am here. So let’s get to know each other more.” You move to sit on his lap and start kissing him. He moves back on the bed and lays down pulling you on top of him. You tug his shirt off and he does the same with your skirt. Soon enough clothes are strewn around the room and you and Todd are laying in bed both staring at the ceiling.

“Wow,” is the only word that has come out of Todd’s mouth.

“Good wow or bad wow?” you turn your head to look at him.

“Great wow. An amazing wow,” he says looking at you.

You let out a laugh and crawl out of the bed to go check your phone to see if you have a text from Natalie.

Girl! We can all hear you!

You turn to look at Todd. “Well, I guess they know what we just did.”

Todd grabs the pillow from behind his head and holds it over his face. “Fuck. They’re gonna mock me for the rest of the weekend.”

You jump back onto the bed and pull the pillow away from Todd. “That’s okay. Natalie will mock me too.” You give Todd a kiss and grab his hand pulling him up. “Now let’s get out there and deal with the mockery together. Deal?”

Todd sighs and looks at you with bright eyes. “Fine. Deal.” He points a finger at you. “But if Natalie doesn’t make fun of you I’m coming back in here to hide.”

You laugh and get up to grab the clothes from around the room throwing Todd’s at him. “Fine. But that’s the only reason you’re coming back in here. Let’s go!”

[whycraft]

The Three Body Problem: Chapter 4

AO3 | Wattpad | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10

A/N: I’ll be going on a trip with a strict no-internet policy on Saturday and I won’t be coming back until July 13th, so I’ll try to finish the next few chapters and queue them, but if I manage to get that done they’ll only be going up here and not on AO3, because you can’t queue things on AO3.

Things remained relatively civil between the three of them after what Grian had privately dubbed “the incident”. Poultry Man didn’t prank quite as much, the Watcher kept to themself, and Grian just continued to do as he always did.

Poultry Man and the Watcher had both made use of the fact that one of them could go AFK without affecting the others. When they did get into squabbles, one of them could go AFK and the other could hang out with Grian, and they both got some time away from each other.

Grian had invited the Watcher to take control when they were flying a couple of times, but each time the Watcher turned his offer down. He wasn’t sure why, but the Watcher seemed relatively alright, so Grian didn’t push the matter.

As it turned out, he didn’t have to; the Watcher took the situation in their own hands.

Jevin took out a hit on Grian, and since he had kindly let him know beforehand, Grian built a trap for Iskall in preparation for when he tried to deliver a hit. Both Poultry Man and the Watcher were very invested in the trap, and gave Grian plenty of ideas on how to improve it. Although Poultry Man was a bit saddened by the lack of chickens, and the Watcher was a bit put-off by the rather bland design of it, all three of them were rather pleased with it in the end.

Grian was just beginning to work on the pillars on the side of his base when he heard rockets behind him.

it’s iskall! run! grian, run!

Grian launched himself off of the pillar and towards the shopping district.

Iskall caught up with him alarmingly fast. He’s right behind us!

Grian, let me take control.

Grian experienced a brief moment of surprise before he shoved it away and said, Sure, go for it!

The Watcher’s presence flowed to the forefront of their mind, taking control of the body. They shifted the rockets in their grip and shot off into the sky. It was flight like Grian had never seen: the Watcher climbed high and dove deep, circled back and looped-the-loop, made hairpin turns in midair. They even tried to hit Iskall as he flew past them.

the safe room! Poultry Man reminded them.

Right! They looped around Grian’s base a few times. Gotta give him the runaround.

They landed silently in the hallway to the safe room, crouching down out of sight. Iskall landed in their base, and as his footsteps inched closer, the Watcher inched further back towards the pressure plate. Iskall turned the corner into the hallway and the Watcher jumped backwards onto the pressure plate. Iskall walked right through the lava and into the pit. A moment later, their communicator beeped and said, “Iskall85 fell from a high place.”

Grian, the Watcher, and Poultry Man all burst out laughing at the same time.

Oh my god, Watcher, that was - that was incredible. I think I’m crying.

Poultry Man was laughing too hard to properly say anything. you - he - ha!

“That was quite amazing, wasn’t it?” They giggled hysterically, displaying an unusual lack of composure, and put their hand to their heart. “I haven’t flown like that in forever.”

dude! you have to teach me how to fly like that.

The shock in the Watcher’s voice was audible. “You - you want me to teach you how to fly?”

yeah. i’ve never seen anyone fly like that.

“Oh. I… well… yes, I suppose I could teach you.”

thanks, man.

Their communicator beeped again. It was a message from Iskall: “can you bring me my stuff?”

I’ll take it from here.

The Watcher handed over control of the body to Grian, who typed out a quick response to Iskall: “yeah if you promise not to kill me lol”

Grian collected all of Iskall’s stuff and set off towards his base in the ice biome. As he soared through the air, Grian commented, “We should make a game out of that. We could challenge people to races - maybe a mid-air obstacle course or something. We could charge one diamond per run, but they only have to pay if we beat them.”

but we’d always beat them if Watcher was flying?

“Exactly!”

It sounds a bit risky. They might find out. On the other hand, the Watcher mused, it would be quite fun… I guess we could try it.

“Really? Great! We’ll have to start planning out the course, what the obstacles will be, how many materials we need -”

Let’s finish our current projects, first. Wouldn’t want to get too ahead of ourselves.

“Right, of course. Anyway, I’m thinking it should go through the shopping district - lots of bobbing and weaving, y’know? And maybe some…”

The Watcher groaned. Here we go.

—————-

They didn’t build a flight course, but they did begin constructing an Architechs meeting room that Grian was calling “the infinity room.”

It was a completely white room, made of sea lanterns, item frames, and white maps. There were no shadows or creases, and without any blocks to use as reference points, it looked like the room went on forever.

Grian stood in the middle of the finished room, staring around and admiring it. “Well? What do you guys think?”

Reminds me of where I lived before we left Evo, the watcher remarked. It’s nice.

“Poult? What about you? You’ve been awfully quiet this whole time.”

i...

Grian went from pleased to concerned in the span of a second. “You okay?”

can we leave, please?

“Uh, yeah, sure. Lemme just…” He felt around for the exit. When he found it, he slipped through the gates and up the bubblevator.

“What was that about?”

i, ah, it reminded me of the Void.

The Void? Like in the End?

yeah. i was stuck there before i found you guys. i didn’t… i thought i was going to be trapped there forever. alone.

“That must have been terrible. I can’t even imagine.”

You aren’t alone anymore; you have us. We won’t ever let you be alone again.

i - wow, it almost sounds like you care about me.

Hmph, they sniffed. I may not like to admit it, but I do.

“So do I. We’re here for you, Poult, if you ever need to talk.”

Yeah. We’re a team.

team idiot, he quipped.

“I know you are, but what am I?”

hey!

[siriuslymoon]

May I request 89 for ThorBruce? I love your writing btw ❤️

Thank you so much! Of course you can 💕💕 89. We’re having a movie night and you fell asleep so in confessed my love to you and what do you mean you’re awake?

-

Bruce was not prepared for a social interaction.

And while that statement could be used to sum up his entire existence, on this particular evening it was referring to an avengers movie night.

Tony was still hell bent on introducing Steve and Thor to ‘all the classics’ and everyone else had just been lured in with snacks and comfy sofas.

Bruce liked his friends, he did, and he liked spending time with them- but he was close to finishing a project and every second that he spent away from the lab filled him with guilt and an over all feeling of unease.

So when he stumbled into the kitchen, lab coat singed and overall appearance in disarray; the last thing he needed was to be hauled into a five hour film event.

“I just,” he pointed over at the machine “I just came for coffee”

But Tony shook his head, “cmon Bruce we’ve got a full house tonight, you can’t be the only one left out” he wrapped his fingers around Bruce’s wrist and began to pull him towards the sofas.

Bruce noticed the only available seat would be next to thor and stilled.

He hadn’t showered for a few days and he currently smelt like burning cloth and various chemicals, something he didn’t feel like wafting up the nose of the guy he was crazy about.

“Can I um- can i at least change?” He gestured to his ruined appearance, and tony was about to say he looked fine when Thor cut in.

“Bruce should be comfortable if he is to fully enjoy the movies” everyone nodded and the blonde sent him a small wink, accompanied by a soft smile; Bruce didn’t know which made his heart stop first but either way he couldn’t breathe.

“I guess- alright you’ve got the minutes til we start without you” Tony threw himself down next to steve in the sofa and stole a handful of popcorn.

Bruce began to grin causing Tony to quickly cough around his popcorn and wave his arms.

“No! Bad wording- ten minutes until I come get you and drag you in here” he smiled at the correction and Bruce nodded, turning and heading for his room, doing everything he could to ensure he didn’t trip as he walked out.

He showered quickly using as much scented body wash as his hands could hold, roughly drying his hair afterwards so that it wasn’t dripping down his torso but leaving it damp enough to avoid frizz. He pulled out a sweater he didn’t know he had and a pair of sweat pants, before evaluating himself in the mirror.

His damp curls hung round his face and the sweater slipped from his neck and dangled past his hands, the sweatpants hugging tight in places and sitting looser in others.

He shrugged, and headed back out to the living room, happy to see the seating arrangements hadn’t changed.

“See? Told you he’d be back. And aw bruce you look adorable” tony pointed to where the grey knit skimmed his finger tips and Bruce flushed, mumbling a thank you and scurrying Over to Thor’s side.

The man was warm, even sat at a distance Bruce could feel the waves of heat rolling off him, mixing with his natural scent of rain water and rich royal spices to create a tangible aura.

Bruce leaned in closer, damp hair brushing Thor’s dry jumper, the cotton soaking up the moisture immediately.

“What are we watching?” He adjusted his glasses, smiling lazily at Thor, choking when he returned it.

Thor leant in closer to reply, “I believe we are watching time travellers”

Bruce nodded, turning to see Tony mouth ‘back to the future’

They started the movie, Bruce shuffling to sit as comfortably as he could next to Thor, ignoring the constant hammering in his heart and pulling his knees to his chest; sock covered toes stretched across the free space beside him.

He enjoyed listening to Thor laugh every few minutes, or gasp at the crucial points. It painted a natural smile on Bruce’s face and worked to relax him.

He made it through one film, blinking heavily every few minutes to try and force away the tiredness overcoming him. But when everyone yelled for the next one to be put on he sighed; not wanting to seem like a kill joy he sat there and tried his hardest to stay awake.

But he had gravitated closer to Thor throughout the first film, and the gods steady breathing worked as a lullaby that had Bruce off to sleep within minutes.

No one noticed at first, not until Bruce’s position fell and he slumped against the gods shoulder, inching over into his chest- Thor’s arm immediately curling around him to steady him.

“Should we wake him?” Steve asked, everyone’s eyes now on the sleeping scientists, face so relaxed in slumber it had them all smiling.

“No- he doesn’t get enough sleep. Just turn the volume down a little” Thor told them, pleased when they took his instructions and went back to watching the film.

But Thor couldn’t bring himself to look back at the screen, finding the man in his lap much more interesting.

He moved to take off Bruce’s glasses and brush a curl from his face, laughing softly when He twitched and scrunched his nose up before breathing out and burrowing deeper intoThor’s chest.

Thor ran his hand up and down the mans back following the lines of his spine, finding comfort in the steady rhythm of his breaths, the gentle fluttering of his eyelashes as he dreamt luring the confession out of him.

“You’re so beautiful” the declaration slipped past his lips, his friends too engrossed in the movie and each other to notice.

But Bruce noticed.

He had began to wake up after someone sneezed, and when he heard thor talk he froze, focusing on keeping his breathing even and his eyes shut.

But then Thor was playing his his hair, fingertips grazing his scalp and letting his curls loop around his fingers.

His breath caught in his chest, heart building with the urge to scream but he did not move.

“You’re so smart, so wonderfully smart” Thor’s hand move this his cheek, cupping his face and running a calloused thumb over his cheekbone.

“I’m so in love with you Bruce” he whispered, not even sounding like he meant to say it, as though it was no natural to him, but then quickly finding comfort in the mans unconscious state and knowing that he couldn’t hear him

Except he did.

“You what?”

Thor screamed, the sound ripping from his throat and causing everyone’s hearts to thud uncomfortably.

“Jesus point break, this isn’t a scary movie!” Tony cursed, hand resting over his chest.

Bruce sat up, wiping sleep from his eyes and watching his friends calm down.

“Ahhh dude you woke up Bruce” Clint sighed, scowling lightly at Thor.

“My apologies” Thor mumbled before excusing himself and running from the room.

Why did Bruce say anything, why couldn’t he have just stayed quiet- let thor have his moment.

“I’m gonna head to bed if you guys don’t mind, enjoy your movie” he made sure to blink slowly, and move as though sleep still plagued his body; when in reality he had adrenaline thrumming through his body and had never felt quite so awake.

They muttered a chorus of “nights” and “later’s” and Bruce hurried from the room.

“Jarvis where did Thor go?” Bruce asked, waiting for the reply.

“Mr Odinson is currently on the rooftop, and when asked if he wished to be disturbed- he said he did not”

Bruce nodded, making his way to the rooftop entrance, and finding the door locked.

“I told you” Bruce grinned and how much of an attitude Jarvis could have at times, the whole thing screaming Tony.

“Open the door Jarvis”

“But he-“

“I’ll tell Tony that you let steve in after their fight despite him telling you to lock all the doors” Bruce retorted, smirking to himself and at Jarvis.

“Sir was being a stubborn fool” came the reply, to which Bruce said “and so am I- open it up buddy”

He swear he heard a sigh as the door clicked open, and Jarvis wished him good luck.

Bruce found Thor on one of the chairs Tony had put out there, over looking the sky, the odd bit of stray lighting running through the sky.

“I thought you were asleep” Thor told him, not needing to turn around to know Bruce was stood behind him.

“I was,” bruce nodded “I think Clint sneezed- it woke me up”

It was Thor’s turn to nod.

“I apologise if i have made you uncomfortable, I will leave promptly and forever carry the horrible burden of knowing I caused the destruction of our friendship” his voice was low and heavy, the sky clouding over as he spoke.

“Woah, wait what? Thor I’m not mad at you!” Bruce moved closer, sitting beside him on one of the chairs, though the god still refused to look at him.

“Did you mean it?” Bruce asked, and Thor’s features contorted “why on Midgard would I lie?”

Bruce deflated “I don’t know..”

“Even unconscious- I’d never lie to you bruce I hoped you’d know that” Thor looked sad again, heart broke at the thought of Bruce not trusting him.

Without thinking Bruce grabbed Thor’s hands, squeezing them in his own smaller ones as he rushed out “I do trust you! With my life, I do. I just- didn’t think you’d feel like that”

“Why ever not?” Thor raised an eyebrow, finally looking at Bruce, though now that his gaze was on him Bruce kind of wished he’d look away.

“Because,” he laughed “I’m me and you’re- god Thor you’re… well a god for one thing. And you’re the sweetest person I’ve ever known, no matter how harshly any world treats you you’re always smiling and you make me smile and you’re stunning and…. and you deserve better Thor. You deserve someone like you- if anyone else that perfect even exists”

Thor laughed.

“Why are you midgardians so caught up on what people deserve? Do you think I deserve to be happy?” Thor asked, moving so that his hands cupped Bruce’s instead”

“Of course”

“Then let me be happy with you, you who is just as perfect, more so if anything”

Thor grinned, so wide and bright that Bruce had to look away for a moment to catch his breath.

Until Thor tilted his head up to look at him, an eyebrow raised in question, a question Bruce answered with a nod and then he felt Thor’s smile pressed against his own.

And if Bruce caught an explosion of lighting across the sky before his eyes fluttered shut, well then he must just be imagining things.

[voidendron]

The Outside: Chapter 48

Series Ask Blog: @asktheoutside Aaand, I’m back! Over my writer’s block now, so back to the story. I honestly hate this chapter, but it’s better than nothing. ^^”  ALSO! The series’ first birthday is coming up Dec 3rd! I’ll try to do something for it. <3 Oof, that’s hard to believe!

Chapter 48: Needle in a Haystack Chapter Warnings: None

Chapter under the cut

February 10, 2031, 10:42 AM Los Angeles, California

Laughter filled the living room from those gathered around the television. The Twins had just finished their segments before an interview started, and Bing had flipped the channel to a comedy none of them knew the name of.

They’d settled into the duplex comfortably by that point. Bing knew exactly where everything was if something was needed, the kids had their rooms set up just how they wanted, the Twins had a few suits for work, Bing had a license and Chase had a permit (still wasn’t the best at driving yet, though). The Septic had been using the Fischbach’s van to practice, while the android didn’t need it. He had all the information he needed on driving available with just a mere thought. He’d even been researching used cars in the area earlier so they could get their own. They didn’t want to rely on the Fiscbachs or public transportation forever, after all.

They were getting used to their neighborhood, were on good terms with their neighbors to the left and wondering who would move into the empty duplex to their right. The three places shared a wall, and it was sometimes easy to forget until the kids or Twins tripped down the stairs and the neighbor was at the door wondering if everything was all right. It was…amusing, in a way. Endearing. For being an apparently “sketchy” neighborhood, there really hadn’t been many problems.

It was easy to relax, really.

Chase groaned when the android nudged him, lolling his head lazily to look Bing in the eye.

“You’re bendin’ my charger.” Bing twitched the fingers of the hand resting between them. His charger stretched from the wrist at an odd angle with the cord caught under the Septic’s leg and successfully trapping his hand there.

Chase blinked down at the offending charger and glared playfully when Sophie giggled at him. He shifted, chuckling a bit himself when Bing disconnected the cord and shook his hand out. “Sorry, man.”

Stretching, the Septic sat up from his slouching position. “We still wanted to go to the skate park today, didn’t we? Or is it gonna be a lazy day?”

“We get enough of those!” Sophie protested from her place on the love seat. She winced when she tried to lurch out of the seat, causing Yan’s fingers to tangle in her hair mid-braid and jerk her head back. Chase couldn’t help his own grimace when he Felt the jolt of surprise from her. The Iplier mumbled an apology as he pulled his fingers free of the tangles, then reached for the brush at his side to start over.

Chuckling, Chase sank back into the couch, a grin stretching over his face when Sophie glowered at him. “But relaxing sounds like a good idea!” He tucked his hands behind his head, elbowing Bing as he did so. “Don’t’cha think?”

“Bing! Don’t agree with him! Tell him we’re going skating!” It was hard to forget she still had the mind of an eight-year-old when she looked to be in her preteens now.

The android brought his hands up placatingly. “I can’t control your old man!”

It was with that that both Brody kids busted out laughing—Kyler nearly toppling off his perch on the armrest of the love seat as he rocked forward; Yan tried (and failed) to stifle his own snickering. The Septic in question could only snap his head toward the android and gape.

“You called him old!” Sophie giggled.

“He does look older than the rest of you now,” Kyler added “helpfully” with a cocky grin at his dad.

While it was true—the Twins looked early twenties, and Bing somewhere around mid-to-late twenties—the Septic still crossed his arms and feigned a pout. He easily looked late thirties/early forties, and the kids had made sure to tease him about it. A lot. Chase took it in stride of course, but acting like a little drama queen for laughs every once in a while didn’t hurt anything, either.

“All right, all right,” the Septic said when he could no longer hold the pout without a smile trying to sneak a curl to his lips, “go get ready. Yan do you—”

“No. I’ll just stay here!”

“Gotcha.” Chase stretched again as he stood. He shot a look toward Sophie first, “Safety gear—no buts,” before shifting over to Kyler, “and no binder.”

The boy’s shoulders sagged at that. “But—”

“Kyler.” The Septic’s expression became stern, then. “I don’t want you gettin’ hurt. You can’t wear it skating.”

When the kids went bolting up the stairs—Sophie tugging her grumbling brother up the whole way—Chase turned to the android. He picked up the hoodie draped over the armrest of the couch and tossed it to the Iplier.

Bing glanced back up right as it landed on his head and neither of them could help but start laughing. “We should probably get ready, too,” Chase suggested. To Yan, he said, “Twins should be home in a few hours, but if you’ve got problems, just call Bing.” The Iplier only hummed in acknowledgment as he found distraction in his cellphone.

By the time the four were walking out the door, Kyler was perked up and laughing again as he and his sister had a shoving match to see who could get to the end of the walk first. Chase had the skateboard the kids had gotten him for Christmas tucked under his arm, while Bing had the roller-blades they’d gotten him on as he expertly avoided the cracks in the sidewalk to follow them at a leisure pace.

Both Brody kids had their own skateboards—their Christmas gifts from their dad—and while Kyler’s was strapped securely to an empty backpack, Sophie kept dropping hers and earning grimaces from her brother.

“Left at the next corner,” Bing instructed. The kids were…adamant, about being in front despite the fact their walking GPS was the only one who actually knew where they were going. Chase just shook his head as the two fought over who could press the button for the crosswalk. At least they’d remembered to do that this time around though, he thought; last time they’d just run out into the street and Bing had had to grab both of them by the hoods before they could get hit by a delivery truck.

They’d been more careful since, to be sure; it only took them a few times of doing it to actually remember. Both were as thickheaded as their dad, honestly.

Chase couldn’t help a fond roll of the eyes at that thought. They were certainly his kids.

Jogging to catch up with the trio again, the Septic elbowed Bing in the side—not hard enough to bruise himself like he usually tended to, fortunately. Chase wasn’t surprised when the android kept perfect balance on his skates and only offered a chuckle at the Iplier’s cocky grin. “You’re gonna show off aren’t you?”

Smile revealing pearly whites, Bing dragged his shoulders into an exaggerated shrug. “Been a while since I’ve gone roller-blading. Gonna be rusty.”

Chase snorted and looped an arm around his friend’s neck, dragging Bing against his side. It made for an awkward, sliding shuffle from the android due to his skates. “Dude. Rusty for you’s gonna be advanced for anyone else.”

The two shared a laugh as the kids ahead of them continued their lighthearted bickering.

With the news of Schneep’s eye being passed around as of a means of, just maybe, being able to pick him out of a crowd, Chase found it easier to laugh and to smile and relax. They’d all been keeping a lookout, and while a glass eye was like a needle in a haystack in Los Angeles, it was so much more than they’d had to work with the past months. With so many watching, picking through that metaphorical hay, they’d uncover it eventually. They just had to hold out hope the needle would be found soon without sifting through the entire stack.

Chase’s smile softened a little as his laughter went quiet. “You uh…think we’ll find Henrik soon?”

“Duh!” Bing’s smile was bright as ever. “Ollie, Blue, and I’ve been runnin’ our scanners for eye matches, Marv’s searching with his magic—everyone’s watchin’!” He gave the Septic a hearty pat on the back, earning a grimace from Chase at the near-bruising force that quickly morphed back into a grin.

They would find him, surely so!