#i think i wanna draw like this again. not fully sure. i might hip hop between this and a cleaner style

[wwilloww]

sh. | ot7 | chapter five

PAIRING ot7 x reader

RATING Explicit.

GENRE smut. fluff. angst. nonidol au. wildnerness au. roommates au. friends to lovers.

SUMMARY Six months of quarantine have kept you apart. Somehow the distance sparks something new in each of you: questions, unfinished conversations, threads once chased now left cold. So when your roommate invites you to come with him to a mysterious house in the mountains with your friends, how could you even think of saying no?

WC 8k

WARNINGS AND TAGS protected sex. friends with benefits relationship. dirty talk. power play dynamics. angst. semi-public nudity. mentions of open relationship. sexting. reckoning with feelings. talk of alcohol use. 

AN: One million bazillion thanks to the best beta and geologist out there, @hesperantha. Everyday I think to myself, how the fuck would this series exist without this magical lady? And every day I am thankful for her beautiful existence. 

Also, if you haven’t seen /the trailer, you might wanna check it out. Just because I had a lot of fun making it and it was super fun to visualize the characters and their tiny little world. 

Going forward, you can read with they/them pronouns by navigating to the series m.list and reading from there. 

That said, LETS JUMP IN!

← || series m.list || →

©️ wwilloww do not repost, translate, or use my stories without my permission.  

chapter five

January 2020

What is left when you’re not sure where to turn?

You know there’s Yoongi. Dependable, familiar, predictable Yoongi. Predictable in the sense that you know, unabashedly, that no matter what, you can always count on him to draw a short term — but important — curtain over whatever notion, anxiety, or complication that happens to be singing in your mind that day. Erase it, temporarily, with those long fingers, gliding over your skin in expert patterns, drawing you and your pleasure exactly where he wants it to be.

And predictable in the sense that you know you will be perfectly and endlessly satisfied at the end of the night, no matter what.

See, Yoongi doesn’t mess around. He doesn’t tease you. Doesn’t draw you out and dangle you over your own pleasure. He gives it to you. Over and over and over and over again. Extends his palm and pulls as many orgasms from you as you can physically muster and then lets you collapse in his arms. Dependable, see? Dependable, always.

Once you’re settled in his lap, Yoongi lets you grind on him for a bit as he undresses you expertly, long fingers slipping under the fabric of your clothes before tugging them off gracefully and tossing them across the room. This, this he did love to do. Loved to scatter your clothes around and then watch you from the bed as you tried to piece some semblance of an outfit back together after he fucked you senseless.

“Don’t throw my bra behind the furniture again,” you murmur as you kiss down his neck. “I know you thought it was a great tactic to get me to rearrange your room the last time — but I’m not moving a hundred pound dresser to get my very expensive bra back again.”

He chuckles. Murmurs, “As you wish.” And then throws your bra someplace you can’t see.

Now that you’re topless, he lets his long fingers skate up the skin of your back, tracing the flesh of your hips and with such delicacy it almost tickles. That is, delicate until his hand weaves itself up your neck. His grip tightens at the root of your hair, tugging your head back in a swift motion and exposing your neck to him.

“How do you want me to fuck you tonight?” His voice is deep and it raises goosebumps on your skin. He lets his teeth trace a line up the sensitive skin of your neck until he reaches your ear and bites down hard.

“Fuck,” you breathe as a shiver runs through your body. Yoongi always took particular care to curate a library of knowledge about your ticks, turn ons, and vices. And then he played them out for you in an expertly coordinated hand.

“Yes, that’s in the cards. But tell me specifically how you want it.”

Behind him, the large bedroom is equipped with enough musical equipment to run a fully functioning studio. Instruments hang on the walls and a large black bed rests in the center of the room. The dark tones of the wood and sheets make the otherwise sparse room feel warm and dark. Compared to the shabby little apartment that you share with Namjoon, this is luxury. Your gaze rests on the large wall of glass that looks out over the city.

“The window,” you say.

He grins.

The glass is cold against your bare skin when he presses you to it. The difference in temperature between the fired heat of your skin and the iced window slices right through you, makes you gasp as his hands run over your body, taking you in as you are: bare and ready for him.

You watch as he strips off his clothes, gracefully and swiftly. First the shirt, then his pants. It’s no surprise to you that he’s not wearing any undergarments at all. Delight lights in his eye when he notices how greedily you watch him.

“Do you want me to—” He begins to lean down, but you stop him and pull him up.

“Just fuck me.”

He turns you around in one movement, your hands flying up to stop the impact, your chest — and your nipples — pressing to the glass. The sensation overwhelms you as he slides two fingers between your folds, collecting the slickness that has gathered there.

“You’re already so wet for me.”

A smile spreads across your face as you hear the condom packet rip and he slots his cock against your cunt, coating himself in your arousal.

“Don’t tease me,” you say, a hint of a whine slipping into your voice.

“Don’t worry. I have no patience for that tonight.” And he pushes in. “How’s that?” he says, the lilting tease in his tone cutting sharp against your ear as his dick sinks into you, inch by delightful inch.  

It feels like you have to catch your breath to speak. “Is it always this good?”

“Baby, if it isn’t, you should ask for a refund.” He punctuates the last word of his sentence with a harsh thrust that rams your chest up against the glass.

“Fuck—” you hiss.

Memory whitens like it’s been covered in a blanket of snow as he begins a punishing pace, hips rutting up into you before drawing almost all the way back, tip barely inside of you before thrusting back into you, all the way to the hilt. Sensation overtakes thought. The slicing coldness of the glass against your nipples paints a stark contrast to the softness of lips pressed to yours, softness of a hand cupping your cheek—

You should be thinking of anything but that.

And it’s easy to do, in this moment. To focus on Yoongi, his commanding presence, the way he plays your body like one of the carefully polished instruments that hangs on his wall.

You cry out when he hits a particularly soft spot within you, and he pauses his movements, drinking in the sound of you.

“God, you sound so fucking good.”

He pulls out of you, turns you around, and pushes your back against the glass.

“Hop up,” he says, and you frown in confusion before realizing what he’s referring to. You wrap your arms around his neck and with a jump, wrap your legs around his waist.

“Fuck—” With a grunt of effort, he holds you up while slotting himself against your folds and pushing inside again.

The most you can do in this position is tilt your pelvis and grind down on him — while holding onto dear life — and you do, rotating it against his waist, drawing the most delicious sounds from his lips. Your hips begin to move in tandem, each pushing closer to the pleasure that you both so desperately desire.

This is better. This is worse.

See, the two of you have fallen into patterns in your hookups. Rules, even, although no one but you thought of them as such. But the habit — and therefore the lines — were clear to you:

You didn’t kiss. You didn’t confess your love. Hookups only, and breakfast together the morning after. Usually he takes you from behind, because, as he once commented to you, “the ass cheeks are the eyes of the heart.” Which to you, made no sense at all, but you still obliged him. Plus, at the end of the day it was all a little more impersonal that way, anyways. Easier to separate from the rest of your relationship.

But looking into his face, pressed so close — there’s something there. A warmth. An understanding. Too much.  

Your head falls to his shoulder and his grip tightens on your thighs as he fucks up into you. Several heavy breaths before you bite gently at the sensitive skin of his neck and he hisses.

“You’re too sensitive,” you chide, although the teasing lilt of your tone is broken up by him fucking into your body — and you both know you love the way he lets you know he likes things done.

“And you’re too shy,” he cuts back. “Why don’t you look at me when I fuck you?” It’s posed as a question but you know it’s a command.

Slowly, you draw your head back and look at him. His eyes are deep and dark, his hair tousled and face lined with pleasure.

“That’s a good little pet,” he whispers. It falls too softly.

It makes you want to kiss him. All you want to do is —

You press your lips to his. Just a peck — the smallest, lightest of pecks.

But the plush of his lips, the way they part so slightly when your lips meet... it leaves you wanting more. So you kiss him again, pressing yourself to him, chasing the feeling of his softness.

He responds, opening his mouth to yours, his tongue darting out to meet yours. His pace doesn’t falter as he continues to fuck up into you. His lips move against yours, fierce, needy, demanding. And it’s then that your stomach drops. It’s as if the winter chill that lays just beyond the door at your back slices through your veins.

You pull back.

“No,” he says, and pulls you back to him. “Stop running.” He brings your face close enough to yours but doesn’t kiss you, just waits.

And you meet him in the middle, kissing him again, afraid of losing the warmth you sparked between you. He groans against you as your hips swivel around his cock, and bites down on your lip.

“Fuck,” you hiss.

With one arm wrapped around his shoulders, you let your other hand press against the nape of his neck, nails digging in just the way you know he likes it. You both have always been in rhythm, in tune with one another, but now with him kissing you — something new sparks between you. Something new, something terrifyingly warm.

When you pull back he smiles.

“Shit,” you whisper, your eyes widening. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Yoongi says, an edge in his voice, his hips still circling against yours as he presses your back to the window. “You have nothing to apologize for.

“I shouldn’t have—”

“Shh... stop. It’s okay. It was good.” He punctuates his meaning with a thrust, a small groan slipping from his throat. You want to swallow the sound of his pleasure whole, but still. You let the guilt in your chest rise to your throat.

“No, no, it’s not,” you say, though the coil that’s winding tighter and tighter in your belly makes it difficult to speak. You take a shuddering breath in as he hits your g-spot, your eyes fluttering closed.

“Yes. It is,” he grunts, and you can tell he’s close too. “You fuck better when you kiss. You feel it. You get into it.” Your brow purses at his words. “Now be good for me, forget it, and cum on this cock.”

You nod.

“Tell me what you’re going to do.”

“I’ll forget it, be good for you, and cum on your cock.”

“Good,” he smiles.

Each thrust brings you a step closer. He kisses you, again waiting for you to meet his lips, and together you move like dancing partners closer and closer to the edge.

You cum, clenching around his cock and crying his name into his mouth.

The two of you breathe heavily, foreheads resting together for a moment that stretches long enough for you to call it a distance.

“Fuck—” Yoongi says, pulling out of you and smiling gently as he lets you down. “I’ve never heard you come like that before.”

Heat rises to your cheeks.

“Hold on, let me get you a towel or something,” Yoongi says, pressing his thumb to your forehead and wiping away a bead of sweat. You watch as he shuffles about his room, looking for anything to give you. “One second, I think there’s clean ones in the dryer.”

He wanders out of the room wearing absolutely nothing at all.

When you turn back to the outside world, the glass is fogged and the world feels a million miles away. The tension that rises up in your chest feels like a wrought iron ball and you need out, out, now.

There’s a fuzzy blanket on the dresser next to you and you snatch it, wrap yourself up tightly and push open the glass door to the tiny balcony. With a held breath, you step out. The cold concrete sends a chill through your body as you step out. Blue washes through you, shocking the pleasure-numbed nerves in your body back to life.

When you suck in a deep breath of snow-cold air, it feels as if clarity settles into you. You take a second, but shuddering, breath as you realize with a lucid sharp pain the reality of your situation.

Yoongi didn’t erase tonight from your mind. Sex didn’t remove Hobi’s kiss from your lips. An orgasm didn’t ease the unnamable want in your chest. If anything, it all just burns a little brighter.

This thing with Yoongi — it’s not supposed to be a distraction for you, or a means to make you feel something else. It’s supposed to be its own thing, a compartmentalized friends with benefits situation that has always been clear and defined between the two of you. But as soon as you showed up on his door with an ulterior motive other than sex, it became something else. As soon as you kissed him, you made it something else.

Fuck.

Around you, fat flurries drift down from the dark sky. They melt as they land on your bare skin. There’s no escaping this thing inside you. But the intensity of the cold seems like it keeps you here, grounded, in Yoongi’s home and facing actuality. As if any form of warmth would leave you wandering into the sickly sweet honeytrap of the what if’s that already threaten on the edge of your mind.

“Come to bed,” Yoongi calls from inside. When you don’t, he comes out onto the tiny balcony and wraps himself around you from behind, his head notching on your shoulder. “Christ, you’re freezing.”

“It feels good,” you say, nuzzing your body back against his.

“I know I didn’t work you up that much that you need to stand in the snow to cool down. Come to bed.”

Still wrapped around you, he waddles you inside, earning a giggle from you as you tumble into bed and he slams the door closed with a bit of a shiver.

“Here,” he says softly, wrapping you in a blanket before settling beside you.

He’s close. Wildly close. His breath brushes softly against your face as you look at each other. You take in the flushed pink of his face, the way his hair is tousled into a gorgeous mess from the effort of your intimacy.

You could kiss him again, you think and a shock runs through your body at the thought. Christ, his cock’s been inside you a million times and yet you balk at the thought of kissing him, of pulling him right where you want him, where he fits so perfectly, where he feels so warm —

“What are you thinking?” Yoongi says softly.

“What are you thinking?” you cut back, just a little too quickly.

Yoongi chuckles. “I’m thinking that you keep yourself so tightly together.”

You smile tightly. “I don’t know what that means.”

“That’s exactly what I mean.”

You bite down on your lip.

“You’re thinking so loud I can almost hear it,” Yoongi says. “Just tell me. You know there’s nothing you could say that would upset me.” When you don’t say anything, he continues. “For god’s sake, I’ve seen your asshole. It doesn’t get much more personal than that.”

“Fine,” you say.

“Fine,” he grins.

“Maybe we should…” You trail off and bite the inside of your cheek.

Yoongi rolls onto his side, propping his head up with one hand.

“Maybe we should…?” He prompts. “Join a sex dungeon?”

You laugh, the thought of going to one with Yoongi is one that sends a thrill through you. “That sounds like a wonderful idea, but that’s not what I was going to say.”

“What were you going to say?”

You take a deep breath. “That maybe we should… stop. This.”

He doesn’t ask what you mean. He knows. “That, my dear, sounds like quite the antithesis to going to a sex dungeon with me.”

You laugh. “I can’t believe you’re making jokes when I am friends with benefits breaking up with you.”

“What? Were you expecting me to be angry?”

“I mean I expected a little bit of a fight. Or at least… I don’t know. Questions.”

“Do you want questions?”

You look at him.

“I don’t know.”

“Okay. Well. Why are you ending things.”

You flop onto your back. Look at the ceiling. The way the lights of the city reflect paley onto the white surface. They look like ghosts.

“I don’t really know.”

He pulls you to him, rolling you onto your side and tangling your hands together. “Okay.”

And then the two of you just lie there, staring at the ceiling in silence, the weight of your decision, of this ending, settling over you with a concrete taste. There’s something uncomfortable in this kind of silence. But it’s not him, it’s not an awkwardness, or the building of tension or resentment. None of that lies between you. It’s the fact that within the silence the answers rise up in you, and you find the words spilling from your mouth.

“I don’t want it to be complicated, Yoongi.”

He waits a moment before responding. “Is it complicated?”

“Well.” You sigh. “No. Not with us. Us is easy. I feel like I can tell you what I need or what I want and I trust you to be able to either give me that or set a boundary.”

Yoongi hums. “I feel the same. So then if it’s not us...?”

“I made a mistake tonight. Crossed a line I shouldn’t have crossed.”

His brow furrows. “Not with me you didn’t. I don’t underst—”

“Not you. It’s me. It’s — it’s always me. I don’t want things to spin out of control. And I feel like they’re about to.”

Yoongi is silent for a long moment.

“I don’t want you to feel that way.” He pulls you closer to him, his grip tightening on your hip. “Really.” You stare down at your intertwined hands. “Look at me.” He waits until you do, summoning an inner strength you didn’t know you needed to look at your friend. “There’s a part of me that wonders how much of this is you punishing yourself for something that you don’t have any reason to be punishing yourself for.”

You can’t help the nervous laugh that shoots from your chest.

“What!? Are you laughing at me!?”

“No, no,” you shake your head. “Just… I don’t know what it is, but if anyone were to look right through me and see everything that’s going on, it’s you.”

He smiles softly.

“Do you want to stay tonight?”

Do you want your friend to wrap himself around you? Pull you in tight to his warm chest? Remind you of the summer that lies on the other side of this long, long winter?

“No,” you say slowly. “I think I need some space. To… process.”

He nods. “Well, as my newest friends with benefits ex, I agree, you should probably leave. You know. So it doesn’t get awkward.” He grins.

“Yeesh, you’re so quick to kick me out.”

“I know. I guess I just need some space. You know. To process, too. Grieve.”  He paints a fake frown on his face and does a dramatic rendition of a very gross sniffle.

You giggle.

“Yeah, yeah, sure.”

Together you get out of bed, Yoongi — for once — rifling through his room in search of your clothes. With every piece of clothing you put on, you feel like you take another step backwards. Away from Yoongi, away from the vulnerability in you that feels like it tears open everytime he looks at you. His comfort. Each new piece of fabric is another wall resurrected. But when you go to hook your bra behind your back, he steps behind you, taking the straps from your hands and gently hooking the clips together.

“Here.”

When he’s done, his fingers linger on your skin just a moment too long.

“Thanks,” you say softly, turning back to him.

His eyes are still blown wide, his hair perfectly disastrous. There’s something so deadly soft about him. He looks just as he did when you marched into his bedroom earlier in the night. And yet, on the other side of this night, you feel like a totally different person. As if the stranger inside of you has finally stepped forward and introduced herself.

You turn away hastily, heading to the living room. He follows and pulls your jacket from the couch and helps you into it.

Shoes on, jacket on, you’re all ready to walk out the door. And still you linger. Yoongi glances at his watch.

“Well, I’d say six hours is a proper mourning period. Breakfast tomorrow?”

“How about brunch? I’m not getting up at 9am for eggs.”

“Oh and I’m the one who needs space huh?” He smiles softly. “11am. You’ll get up at 11am and I’ll buy you a breakup brunch.”

“Yeah,” you smile up at him. Even as you taste the edge of fear — of anxiety — on your tongue, there is still a kind of undeniable warmth that blossoms in your chest every single time you look at him.

You broaden your smile. Push it down.

There’s one last thing.

“And—”

But he already knows what you’re asking. He steps forward, taking your head between his hands and pressing a kiss to your forehead. The shock that runs through you is quick and cold.

“I know,” he says. “This’ll still be our little secret.”

When he steps back, there’s something soft in his gaze — too soft, you can’t help but think. Tenderness, surrounded by acceptance and strength. All the things that make Yoongi, well, Yoongi. And yet it feels like too much to handle. Too much to be looked at, to be seen, to be understood when you can barely wrap your mind around what’s going on.

“Sleep well, buttercup.”

Different taxi, different driver, different route.

“Home,” you tell the woman at the wheel when you give her your address, her over-bleached and curly hair forming a kind of halo around her in the seat.

“You got it,” she says smacking her gum and throwing you a wayward smile.

As the car pulls away from the curb and picks up speed, you feel a kind of numbness wash over you.

It was the right decision to end things with Yoongi, you remind yourself, even as you feel a kind of twinge in your chest. You haven’t lost a friend. In fact, you’ve probably preserved your friendship. Saved it from wandering into the brambly bushes of complication and ultimate destruction. Even if it means the loss of killer sex.

You phone dings, and you instinctively brush a hand over your body to make sure you left with all the clothes you arrived in.

When you look at your phone, it’s not who you imagine. It’s not what you imagine.

tae: I forgot how loud you are when you orgasm.

You choke, hand snapping up quickly to cover your mouth.

“You alright, hun?” the driver asks.

“Yeah, yeah, just fine,” you say, but your voice is strained. You immediately type out your response.

you: fuck. i’m so sorry. you: it won’t happen again.

Your heart is pounding in your chest, embarrassment and confusion tightening around your throat. How much more can you really take tonight? Hobi, then Yoongi — now this? You tap your foot as you wait for the response, which takes just a minute to pop up on your phone.

tae: oh… well that’s too bad. I actually didn’t mind it all that much.

Oh.

Oh.

Before you know what you’re doing, you’re typing out your response — and turning down the brightness as if it will hide the loudness of your message from the world.

you: is that right?

tae: i said it didn’t i? ive always been a man of my word. brings me back to the old days, in a way.

you: oh?

tae: you know…

you: do i?

tae: you do.

you: it’s been a while. why don’t you remind me?

tae: you’re playing coy tonight. two very loud orgasms and you’re still not done playing?

you: i’d send that shrugging emoji but i can’t find it you: what can i say? I can be needy

tae: should i remind you tae: when we used to park behind the grocery store tae: there was never anyone around but you’d still get so shy and embarrassed tae: and try to cum without a sound tae: but i didn’t hear a single note of shame or restraint tonight tae: shamelessness looks good on you tae: **sounds good on you

you: you were always quite shameless yourself

tae: it gets me far in life

You blink down at your phone, not really sure what to say. Taehyung’s hearty banter is something you’re used to. Even after all these years, your quick back and forth was still twinged with the smallest teasing edge of sexual interest. But you had always kept it within strict boundaries, never returning to your previous relationship, never suggesting—  

tae: but my question is how far will it get me with you?

Your breath freezes in your throat. Never suggesting that you return to anything of the past.

tae: jk tae: unless…?

Taehyung’s sexually laced messages have your head spinning round and round on its pedestal. It’s not as if you had never thought about it, never considered it. But there was a line there, was there not? A line you shouldn’t cross, shouldn’t even think of crossing, no matter how you wanted to. With a deep breath, you respond.

you: i don’t know if we should be having this conversation right now?

tae: why? because you’re my ex? or because of Jin?

Before you can even manage to type out the long list of reasons why you shouldn’t be dipping your toes into the perilous waters of sexting your very happily taken ex, the screen is lighting up again.

tae: if it’s the latter, don’t worry. he’s here too. tae: he says to tell u you’re hot   tae: which is news to me tae: not that you’re not hot, but that he thinks that tae: and he says hes “sorry he missed the show earlier”

you: tbh that was NOT the response i was expecting to get.

tae: we’re very open about these things. he’s quite… encouraging actually

As if this is the opening, you walk through it.

you: in what way?

tae: he likes visibility in a specific way. he likes to watch. likes to be watched and… the attention, especially when its directed at me, especially when he knows that at the end of the day i’m crawling back into his bed

Your heart races in your chest.

tae: sorry, maybe that’s tmi.

you: don’t apologize. i don’t mind tmi

tae: then i won’t apologize.

you: good.

tae: good 😂 tae: you know, i liked it.

you: sorry, liked what?

tae: hearing it tae: hearing you cum

you: did you?

tae: more than i expected

you: more than you should?

tae: that’s not what i said

you: well, like i mentioned, it won’t happen again

tae: why not? You finally get me to admit i didn’t mind it and now you’re telling me i won’t get more? :(

You chew on your bottom lip before responding.

you: it’s complicated.

tae: an orgasm is never complicated.

you: …

tae: but you know what is complicated? tae: feelings. tae: you’re having feelings. tae: oh my god you’re in love with yoongi

you: i am nOT in love with yoongi you: surprisingly it has very little to do with yoongi

Even as you send the text, you know that’s not entirely true.

tae: okay, then what’s going on??? pls don’t play cryptic with me, it’s too late for that shit

you: i don’t even know what’s going on.

tae: oh. tae: so we’re talking big boy emotions

you: i don’t have *emotions*

tae: you’re a fucking liar

you: hey you: language

tae: alright then let me rephrase it tae: what are you so afraid of will happen if you let yourself feel?

Your heart catches in your throat. Oh.

“We’re here,” the taxi driver says, and your head snaps up from the light of your phone to see your apartment complex towering high and familiar above you.

“Oh!” You blink yourself from your reverie and hand the woman the cash for the ride. “Keep the change.”

“Thanks,” she says, twisting around to look at you as you skootch across the backseat. “Hey—” You pause, looking at her. The orange glow of the streetlights rings like a halo around her head. “You take care of yourself, alright?”

“Alright,” you smile and nod.

A haze settles around your body as you climb out of the taxi. The hard edge of soberness and the sharpness of the winter air mixes and shocks life back into you as his question rings around your head. What are you so afraid of will happen if you let yourself feel?

Your breath feels strained as you climb the echoing stairs to your home. The sound of the key fitting into the lock rings with a harsh click, but it brings you back into your body, to the little marks where Yoongi’s hands dug into you, to the confusion that rattles around your mind, and finally, and most devastatingly, the warmth that has sunk deep and inextricably into your heart.

The apartment is dark when you enter.

“Namjoon?” you call out.

No one answers. You don’t bother to flick on the lights as you feel your way blindly through the darkness, hand brushing against the soft fabric of your sofa, the bumpy texture of the wall, and finally the cold knob of your door. Instead of pushing the door open though, you lean against it, taking what feels like the first full breath of the night.

You look at the screen of your phone, Tae’s question, his voice, spiraling around your head. With a shaky breath you respond, fingers flying across the blue light of the screen.

you: something feels off. I don’t… i don’t want to mess anything up. I feel like the only way to keep things in order is to keep myself out of it all.

tae: can i call you?

you: yeah. Joon’s not home.

You finally press into your room. All that silver light from the city reflects off of the white flakes that flutter softly down from the sky. It spills onto your bed like a pool of molten silver, waiting, chilled and cold for you. You flop down onto it, your breath coming out in a long huff.

When your phone rings, there’s a second of hesitation before you hit the answer button.

“Hello?” your voice is shakier than you expected.

“One second.”

You hear the rustling sound of Tae getting out of bed and the door shutting.

“If I can hear you orgasming, Yoongi sure as hell can hear a phone call,” Tae whispers, a slight chuckle to his voice. “Unless you’re just always unreasonably loud.” You can imagine the sly smile that plays across his lips right now. Another door opened and shut and he sighs. “There. Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay,” you say. “I…”

You trail off. You don’t know what to say. Don’t know what there is to say.

He says your name softly into the phone, the syllables forming such a familiar shape on his tongue. “Are you okay?”

“I...I don’t think so. I don’t feel great.”

“You’re home? Safe?”

“Yeah. I’m home.” You look around your room. Art on the walls, your little desk the messiest place in the room, stacked high with papers and photos and plants.

“Good.” Taehyung takes a long breath. “So. Tell me what’s going on.”

You want to. But your voice freezes in your throat and you can feel the way your silence falls around him.

After breaking up at nineteen, you and Taehyung had always remained friends. The truth was that even though you loved each other, you were so caught up in the physicality of it all that the rest of your relationship — and your relationships outside of that — began to deteriorate. No more sex, you both had decided. And at the time, that meant no more romance. There weren’t lingering feelings of resentment, but you did know — because you both talked about it — that you were both plagued with the lingering question of what if. What if…. But the answer was simple. You both needed more than what the other could offer.

Best friend turned lover turned best friend. If the lingering sexual tension was the only consequence of that, you could handle that. And if you were honest with yourself, you enjoyed it, in a safe, flattering kind of way.

But the reality was that the consequence of your relationship wasn’t limited to just a couple of sex dreams here and there or comments about your former sex life thrown about as jokes. The truth was that there was a permafrost of cautiousness that sat like a layer of ice beneath all of your interactions; one that only thawed away after midnight or a second drink.

Right now, the clock on the wall reads: 3:12am.

“You don’t have to tell me—”

“No — I want to.” You shake your head. “I should… I should talk to someone about this.” You take a deep breath as the sharp images of tonight’s events spiral around your mind. When you speak, it comes out a whisper. “I kissed Hobi tonight.”

“Oh. Shit.”

“Or he kissed me. I don’t really — don’t really understand what happened, we were just standing there and had both had some drinks and suddenly it was happening and I should have kept everything within the normal boundaries, I shouldn’t have done it, shouldn’t have overstepped our friendship, but we kissed and I…” Your voice trails off.

“And you liked it,” Taehyung finishes for you.

“Yeah,” you say softly. “I did.”

“And it scared you.”

“Yeah.”

“And then you both ran away from it.”

“Yeah.”

“And your way of running away from it was to go fuck Yoongi again, huh.”

“Goddamnit, Tae,” you huff, annoyed by how right he is.

Taehyung chuckles. “Babe, I’ve known you way too long for me to not pick up on these kinds of things. These kinds of patterns.”

“Patterns?”

Taehyung sighs through the phone. “I love you, dude, but… yeah. Yeah. It’s a pattern.”

As you let his words sink into you, you realize. It is a pattern.

“Can I be honest with you?” he asks. “Do you really want to know what’s going on here?”

You laugh softly, even as fear nibbles at your heart. There’s a part of you that wants to turn into blindness. That wants to shield your heart from the reality of the situation. From the reality of yourself.

But there’s also something about facing into the truth — clear and cold like the night waiting just beyond your window. You want the shock of truth through your body, glaring and sharpened like ice. Because at the end of the day, you’ve had enough of this numbed ignorance.

“Yeah. Go for it.”  

“This might be out of the blue. And you might not want to hear it. I could be totally off—”

“Tae, it’s okay. I want to hear it.”

He takes a deep breath. “But maybe… just maybe, it’s time to think about the way you push people away.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” you whisper, although the reality of what he’s saying is already dawning on you, even if it’s at a glacial pace.

“How you let people in just long enough, just far enough, to let them see something authentic of you. But you don’t really let them take any real stake in your life.”

“Oh. Yeah.”

“And that’s okay!” He adds quickly. “At least, it has been okay. We do what we need to do to keep ourselves safe, but… I think you’re past that all now.” You take a shuddering breath and he pauses. “That place in your life where you need to keep the walls and the rules so strict for fear of falling. You’re not there anymore, babe. Maybe it’s time to start looking at the wall that you’ve built and considering letting yourself tear it apart.” And then, so softly you think his voice might be made of something as delicate as a flower petal: “You know, maybe it’s time to think about how you want to start letting love in again. Because you deserve it.”

It’s not until you brush your hand against your cheeks that you realize they’re wet. You look down at your fingertips, glistening with fallen tears, shining silver in the snowlight.

“Fuck, Tae.”

Taehyung lets loose a light, but pained, chuckle.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You sniffle. “Goddamn it.”

Silence settles between the two of you. Tears slip silently down your face as you hold the phone to your ear. You can hear him breathing softly on the other end, but Taehyung doesn’t say anything. It’s as if he knows you need a minute to process.

His words slide right under your skin. Directed straight at the thing that has felt so heavy in your chest all night now, it’s as if the whole thing has been broken open within you. Suddenly, you can see it all.

The past years, this game of cat and mouse with your own vulnerability. This façade of carefully curated openness and faux vulnerability. All of the things that you kept as reminders of your freeness, your unlocked heart — the hookups, the fast and furious romances that ended in nothing but silence, the friendships you kept so carefully defined — were actually all just markers of the opposite:

A deep and abiding fear that if you let someone love you, a fear that if you let them close enough to really, truly see you, they might see something they won’t like.

Better to keep things clearly organized. Clearly marked and known and understood. That way you’d know exactly when things were spinning out of control and when someone was just about to get too close.

“You know, there are so many ways to love,” Taehyung says. “It doesn’t just have to be in that one way of fucking and falling in love and then a big white marriage, tada! the end. And, uh, it’s okay to want love. It’s really, really okay, actually. In whatever weird way love shows up for you, even if it’s not the traditional way. It’s even more okay to let yourself have that love, even if you don’t know what it is — don’t know what to call it.”

When your breath comes out shaky and ridden with tears, you can hear a soft oh echo through the phone.

“Hey,” Taehyung says with all the love in the world laced so delicately through his voice. “It’s okay. It might not feel like that right now. But opening up again — if, you know, if that’s what you want — that’s something you can do. It can be done.”

“I-I do, Tae. I don’t want this anymore. I don’t want to keep fighting this.”

It’s as if you can hear his smile through the receiver.

“That makes me really happy to hear,” he says.

“Where do I even begin?” It comes out a whisper, your voice cracked from the tears that have begun to slow. You’re half afraid to even hear the answer. Half afraid to walk down the path riddled with your greatest fear.

“I think you begin by going to sleep. And in the morning I’ll call you. And I’ll keep calling you. And we’ll work through this together. You know, this isn’t something that you have to do alone.”

You’re silent.

“You’re in bed?” crackles through the phone.

“Yeah?”

“Go put on some pjs and go to sleep. You don’t have to do this all in one night.”

You nod, wiping the rest of the tears from your face and sniffling. “Yeah.”

“Alright. I love you to the moon and back, no matter what. You know that. Right?”

You close your eyes. For a second you imagine accepting that it’s true. It fills your chest with a new kind of warmth. One you want to sink into.

“Yes,” you say. “I love you too, Tae.”

“Get some rest then. Goodnight.”

“G’night.”

The dial tone clicks and the room falls into complete silence. Only the sound of your breath breaks through, too loud and uncomfortable amidst the darkness. But still, you climb out of bed, dump some water on a towel and wipe at your face, and change into the largest t-shirt you can find in your drawer.

Tonight, you dream the first dream of many in a line that will haunt you — and spark you back to life. It’s Yoongi, his body pushing you up against the ice cold glass, his hands in your hair, his lips whispering, over and over and over again: Is it complicated?

In the morning, you lay awake, just feeling the way your breath falls heavily in your chest. You text Yoongi to tell him you can’t meet up. You look outside.

The world is covered in a blanket of snow. Unrecognizable. Beautiful. Washed clean.

Something hopeful flutters in your chest.

When you look down, your hands are clutching the collar of your sleep shirt. With a deep breath, you wrap your arms around your torso in a hug.

“I don’t really know how to do anything else other than this,” you admit to Tae one day over the phone, flourishing a hand you know he can’t see to emphasize the point you know he already understands.

“Well. I don’t know how much of it is really choosing to be different. Instead, maybe you ought to try looking at it like an undoing. Whenever you match up against that impulse to run, think about sitting with it. Feeling it. And then choosing to move in another direction. Yeah,” he says, and you can tell he’s nodding on the other end of the phone. “An undoing.”

What does this kind of undoing look like? you wonder.

When the world comes to a screeching halt around you, you don’t expect to find your answer. The reality of the pandemic and quarantine — the emptiness of it, the long, drawn out days that feel long and drawn out when you’re in them but that then seem to blend together into one long, monotonous, anxiety riddled day and leave you wondering and wishing for the end — it’s hard. It’s hard in that quiet way that’s easy to ignore and push off, and hard in the way that there’s a big ache in your chest every time you go to sleep, one that crawls straight into your throat and sits there until the morning. It’s hard, and you learn to live with it. It’s hard, but somehow it brings you what you need. When distance seems to be the defining feature of your life, you don’t expect to find clarity. But you do. As you sink into the new routine of quarantine and pandemic life, and as life begins in a new rhythm with new rules and new realities — slowly and wildly new and sometimes horrific — it becomes clear to you.

What does this kind of undoing look like?

It looks a lot like feeling the emptiness in your home when Namjoon is away. Silence louder, space smaller. You find yourself reflected back to yourself, as if you are staring in a mirror.

It looks a lot like distraction. Emotional exhaustion turning into physical. You do distract — and it’s good — with a new drama or a new hobby. Exercising in your room until your cheeks are flushed. Cooking something new and delicious every night. Or sometimes just letting the small rectangle of light in your hand absorb you until the lingering discomfort is numbed, until you’re ready to fall asleep.

It looks like listening to your thoughts, really, truly listening, for the first time. Hearing the stories that you’ve built up in your head over the ears and how deeply they’ve sunk into your reality. It looks like noticing them, and wanting them to change. It looks like standing in the empty hallway of your apartment, feeling it all, and deciding to do something about it.

It looks like weird-ass sex dreams. Once dreamless nights are repopulated with strange and specific sexual fantasies featuring none other than your seven gorgeous friends in various states of undress and revelry.

It looks like letting people in again. Laughing on the phone until tears well up in your eyes. Building up the courage to tell Jimin about your vivid, even pornographic dreams. Writing letters when facetime just doesn’t do it anymore. Telling your friends just how much they mean to you, even when that voice warns you that you ought to keep your feelings held tight to your chest.

It looks like falling asleep one night, the traffic of the city now quieted by reduced travel, and the silence offering you a new kind of truth:

Love can be without limitation.

Love can be without limitation. It is allowed to flow from you without doubt or embarrassment. It is allowed to exist in the world — and in you — without needing to be reciprocated or validated. And you are allowed to ask for it. To demand it from life, even if, at times, it feels like the only place it pours forth from is from that great gaping space in your chest.  

The phone rings a couple of times before it’s cut off in the middle of a digital brrng. You’re ready to hear the familiar buzz of a robotic voice reading: the caller you are trying to reach is not available—

But instead, the deep, heady voice you’re so familiar with comes over the speaker.

“Hello?”

“Hoseok?” His name feels foreign on your tongue. After all this time, pushing it away, pushing him away, welcoming his name back into your body feels almost like a fresh rain, washing away the dust on your skin.

“The one and only,” he chuckles. “What’s up?”

A ball of emotion wells up in your throat and the phone line hangs in silence as you try to glue together what you want to say, what you had practiced to say, what you should say. But it feels as if it’s all disappeared. 

“I thought—”

“Did I mess up?” he blurts.

You blink in confusion. “What? No, I—”

“That night, I had so much to drink, I’m worried that… I messed up, that— ”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Hoseok.”

You can hear the breath release from his lungs and shudder through the phone. “Oh.” It’s silent for a moment. “Oh. Okay.”

“I just…” You close your eyes. Take a deep breath. “I just miss you.”

“I miss you like there’s an ocean between us,” he says, laughter mixed with sincerity threading through his voice.

“It feels like there’s ocean between us,” you sigh.

“I know,” he says, too quickly for him to realize the meaning behind your words. “But I promise this will all be over soon, babe. How long can something like this really last? In no time it’ll all be done with and I’ll be right back beside you. Right?”

You smile. “Right.”

← || series m.list || →

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[hunni-pen]

KINKTOBER DAY 12: TERUSHIMA/READER

Kinks: Rimming, Anal, licking, like one sentence of creampie.

Warnings: none

Notes: I took a break yesterday but I’m back.

Word Count: 1.7k

(Phew🥵🥵)

You knew what you were getting into the moment you accepted Yuuji's love confession. He was a little bit of a party animal, and totally wild, but you did love him. Your relationship was a healthy 50/50.

Of course it was still a lot of work, but with the openness of Yuuji’s personality it was quite easy whenever a bump in the road came. This translated very easily to the bedroom. Whenever you guys wanted to try something new, it was always open for discussion. The two of you had a very equal understanding of yes and no.

“Okay babe, hear me out,” Yuuji started as he entered the bedroom, where you currently laid out on the bed.

“We’re not doing chocolate again, it was actually everywhere,” you responded back before he could actually tell you what he had in mind.

He always started with “hear me out,” whenever he came across some new kink he wanted to try or bring back from your previous sexual adventures. So you knew he was going to suggest something wild.

“Listen, listen,” he perched himself on the edge of the bed, you rolled over onto your side to look at him. “Rimming.”

“No.”

His face immediately fell at your rejection. He began to whine, “baby, I just wanna try it. It’ll feel nice with my tongue piercing anyways.”

You may have misinterpreted his suggestion then. Copious amounts of tension lifted from your shoulders and you couldn’t help but laugh. “I thought you wanted me to rim you.”

Yuuji’s eyes widened, “no way, after that time you pegged me. I’m not letting you anywhere near my ass.”

“Not even a finger?”

“No!”

So you planned the night you two would give it a try and the day of Yuuji was practically vibrating with excitement. Finally the time came, and you were more nervous than anything, you were cleaned up and everything before Yuuji came home from work.

You heard the sound of the door closing and what seemed like Yuuji rushing to take off his shoes, and by the time he got to the room his shirt was already halfway unbuttoned. He hopped on the bed and immediately pressed his lips to yours.

Your phone, that you had been scrolling through, dropped out of your hand and he intertwined his fingers in yours. He pushed you down and pinned you on the pillow before fully pulling away.

“How was work?” You asked sarcastically.

“I couldn’t focus on my clients all day cause all I could think of was how well I’m gonna eat tonight,” his pupils were blown with lust and by the way his semi hard cock pressed against your waist, it wasn’t hard to believe his statement.

Your cheeks warmed, completely thrown off by his answer. He laughed, kissing your cheek. “You look so cute blushing.”

“Shut up, I’m just nervous.”

“Don’t be nervous baby. All you have to do is lay there and enjoy the feeling. Trust me.” He kissed you once more before he moved down to your neck.

You wrapped your arms around him tilting your head up so he could continue to pepper kisses and bites to your neck, “I did everything you told me to. I’m all cleaned up for you.”

He hummed, “perfect. You’re such a good girl.” His words went straight to your core and you whimpered your hold on him tightened.

He slowly kissed and licked down your body. Taking his time to tease your clit and turn you to putty in his hands. So when he turned you over you let him.

Instinctively you grabbed the sheets of the bed that nervous edge in your stomach just wouldn’t go away. Yuuji was able to see through you clear as glass. He rubbed your thighs up and down nicely. Cooing out praises about how perfect you are and how cute your little ass was.

You felt him kiss your thigh and then the cold of his piercing surrounded by his warm tongue where he kissed. His tongue ran up your thigh and the side of your ass cheek. He chuckled, “look up baby. You’ll get the best view.”

You angled your eyes upward and made eye contact with yourself in the mirrors. You looked away and then looked at Yuuji.

“So pretty with your ass in the air.” He teased rubbing a spot then kissing it. “Watch me from the mirror okay?”

You nodded and observed him as he gathered spit in his mouth. Parting your cheeks before spitting and you couldn’t help the way you flinched when his warm spit hit your hole. He lightly pressed his thumb to your entrance and watched it slowly enter.

You bit your lip, “Y-Yuuji, you said it would only be your tongue.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry baby. Your little hole just looks so cute.”

You opened your mouth to respond when without any warning, Yuuji’s tongue replaced his thumb. Your words morphed into a moan from the sudden invasion of his prodding tongue.

You bit your lip to silence any oncoming noises. But damn, Yuuji was just so good with his tongue anywhere. He curled it in a way that had your legs momentarily shaking before he pulled back to add some more of his spit.

“Make all the noise you want, I know you like this. You’re practically dripping for it.” To accentuate his words he rubbed your clit and laughed when your hips bucked slightly when he pulled his finger away.

“Don’t worry, you’ll cum soon. I’ll make sure of it.”

He licked a line up from your puffy clit to your asshole. He had to bring a hand back to press against his bulge. Seeing both your holes on display just for him was driving him half insane.

When his mouth pressed against your hole again he was surprised when you rolled your hips back to meet him. This only made him attempt to spread your cheeks farther to try and get more of you.

His hands roamed all over your thighs. Till finally he settled to play with your clit and the other to hold you in place.

Your moans filled the room, being pleasured in two places was overwhelming you. The knot in your stomach began to tighten and when Yuuji ran his tongue in a circle inside you, it released entirely.

You shoved your head into the blankets, your legs shaking and curses falling from your mouth at the sudden orgasm. Yuuji pulled back instead of milking you for every drop like he normally did.

“Yuu, why’d you stop?” You whined, barely lifting your head.

“I told you to watch me.” He gripped your hair and pulled your head up fully. “I wanna fuck you in your tight little hole.”

He threw his head back and palmed his jeans a little harder. The idea alone was enough to get him off. “Oh shit baby, could I do that?”

You honestly had no reason to say no. “Yeah, but you gotta listen to me.”

“I’ll listen. Oh shit, this is gonna be so hot!” He scrambled to unbutton his pants, barely getting them off before he was pulling out his cock.

He spat in his hand and pumped it a few times, before lining up with your entrance. “Ready baby?”

You nodded, and your face scrunched up in pain when he pushed at your entrance. He moaned from the feeling of your clenching on the head of his cock.

“Loosen up baby girl,” he rubbed your sides, “it won’t hurt for long.”

You tried to trust him, taking deep breaths and calming down. “A little more.”

All at once Yuuji entered you, a scream fell from your lips and you ducked your head down into the bed sheets once more. “Oh fucks you’re so tight I could cum.”

“Ow, Yuuji that hurt!”

“I’m sorry baby, I couldn’t help it. I really tried it to, but I just wanna fuck this cute little ass. Mmmmm.” He leaned down, his chest touching your back. His tongue darted out and licked your ear. “I’ll move whenever you tell me to. In the meantime…”

His fingers danced down your chest, one taking your nipple between his fingers and playing with the erect bud, and he pressed kisses to your shoulder. His way of apologizing. His other hand made its way to your clit where it began to run circles on the bundle of nerves. All while you attempted to become used to his length inside your tight back door.

“Yuuji you can move.”

He made what sounded like a happy noise before slowly beginning to grind in you. He sat up taking hold of your hips and guiding them back onto him slowly. You closed your eyes relishing in the slight stinging feeling of him stretching you out.

“You’re so perfect, so pretty,” Yuuji mumbled. His pace slowly began to pick up. “So fucking tight.”

Your own hand moved back to play with your pussy and you felt another oncoming orgasm. “Yuuji, fuck me a little harder.”

“I’ll cum if I go any faster baby. I don’t want this to end so soon.”

“Please, I just need a little more.”

Ever the simp, he did. The pace drawing out more moans and whines from the both of you as you squeezed his cock. Both of you so focused on reaching your own orgasms, the only sound in the room was skin on skin and whatever lewd sounds we’re passing through your lips.

Yuujis hips bucked and the sudden harsh movement caused your mouth to drop and your orgasm to wash over you.

“Oh shit, the way you're squeezing my cock. I’m cumming baby.” Your legs shook as you tried your hardest to keep your ass in the air for Yuuji while he slowed to grind into you.

His head was down and he panted heavily, more praises falling from his lips as he milked your orgasms. “You were so good baby,” he caressed your ass cheek and finally pulled out.

He watched with cloudy eyes as his cum leaked from your hole. He gathered it on his finger and pushed it back in. “Let’s keep all that in there.”

———

I hate it. I might rewrite it another time but I also never wanna look at this again. So...

[ptersparkers]

boston

summary: as a recurring visitor from boston to the outer banks and one of kiara’s childhood friends, you get to know the pogue gang for the summer. oh, and it seems like jj has a thing for you.

warnings: mentions of alcohol and typos, probably.

a/n: i hope boston doesn’t throw people off because i used it as nickname (i think it’s cute). and im not even from boston. ALSO WTF THIS IS 4K WORDS.

add yourself to my taglist!

this is my gif, please credit if using!

You’re starting to think that coming to North Carolina for the summer wasn’t as fun as you remembered. 

The water touched your fingertips as you leaned away from the boat, sticking your hand out to dip it into the cold water. It was too humid for you, for starters. You were used to the colder weather of Boston and often found yourself in long sleeves and jeans with boots with an extra sweater in your car. When it got warm, a pair of leggings and a t-shirt sufficed. North Carolina’s outer banks required swimming suits, shorts, and see-through shirts in order to avoid overheating. That wasn’t exactly your style. 

Your parents insisted on having you do something with your summer instead of lounging around and hanging out with people you’d see on a daily basis during the school year. There wasn’t much to do here other than drink and help your relatives on the boat with their fishing company, and the idea of working for free didn’t seem so amazing as it did when you were a child. This was the first summer you’d be spending in the outer banks for the entirety. While you and your parents travelled here for a few weeks, you were the only one staying behind until it was time to go back for school.

In all honesty, you hadn’t recalled much about the place nor the people who lived here. You were aware of the “Kooks” and “Pogues,” and the unofficial war raging between the two groups. What you gathered was that your family lived civilly between the two, not quite in either territory. If you weren’t mistaken, you were welcomed on either side of the island without drawing too much attention to yourself. 

Kiara, or Kie, who was your childhood best friend, was the only person you were even remotely close to, and that was overstating it. She resembled the summer camp friend who you barely spoke to until it was time to go away for summer camp. She lived in Figure Eight but hung with the Pogue crowd, from what you understood. 

You recalled meeting her for the first time at age eleven, the first time your family had made it a tradition to travel to North Carolina. Your family had wandered to The Wreck, the restaurant her family owned, and became friends because you were the only child in the building and her father had forced her to escape from her shell of a bedroom and spend some time outside. Eleven-year-old you was ecstatic to find another person to spend your summers with, and thus a friendship was born.

“Y/N, you okay there?” your uncle had asked. Pulling yourself out of your daydreams, you whipped your head back and wiped your hand on your shorts. 

“I’m fine, Uncle Jim. Just thinking, is all,” you replied. Uncle Jim laughed and pulled the rope from out of the water and asked you to open the ice bin for him to put the fresh fish he had caught. 

“Special order for the Camerons,” he explained. “Ward offered to pay me double if we could have this in by this afternoon.” 

“So that’s why you pulled me out of bed so early,” you teased. “Mom and dad just left and you’re already putting me to work.” 

You closed the ice chest and watched as Uncle Jim put away the cage neatly in the back before wiping his hands on a white cloth towel. 

“You know this job like the back of your hand. Might as well put you to good use.” 

“Yeah,” you said, sighing. “It’s weird being here without them.” 

“Good weird or bad weird?” 

You shrugged. “It’s just different.” 

“I know you wanted to spend your summer in Boston, but your Aunt Camille and I are happy you’re staying until September.” You smiled and gave him a side hug. 

“Yeah, I’m happy to see you two. It’s just that I’m growing up and want to spend time with my friends before we all leave to college, you know?” Uncle Jim started to steer the boat top the main land and nodded. 

“I hear ya. Mind dropping the fish off at the Cameron residence after I clean it up?” 

You shook your head and watched as the island grew bigger as the boat approached the dock. When Uncle Jim docked the boat, you jumped out and told him you’d be getting a bite at The Wreck, hoping to see if Kiara happened to be working. The door chimed and you could see a few people seated at tables with she was preparing smoothies behind the juice bar. 

“You always look like you’re thinking so deeply,” you said, taking a seat at the bar. 

Kiara looked up and dropped the banana she was holding and wiped her hand on a towel, the biggest smile painting her lips as she ran behind the bar to embrace you. You laughed and reciprocated, giving her a gentle squeeze as she held you in a near lockdown. 

“Two years, Y/N. It’s been two very long years,” she said. 

“I wish I could’ve stayed longer last summer,” you said. “My grandpa called us to say my grandma had broken her hip and we flew out the next morning.”

“Is she okay?” she asked. 

You nodded. “I think he was just scared but it was probably for the best that we went back home.”

“So I hear you’ll be here for the whole summer, right? I heard our dads talking last night.” 

“I can’t tell whether I’m excited about that or not. Happy to be here with you but not happy about working on a fishing boat. You know how sensitive my stomach is.” Kiara laughed and walked back behind the bar, resuming making the smoothie she had halted to welcome you. 

“Don’t I know it. Well, when you and I aren’t working we can hang out and I can introduce you to my friends,” she said. “I think you’d really like them.”

“God, I hope so. I’m gonna need friends if I’m going to be here for three months.” 

“John B’s kind of like our ring leader,” she explained before turning the blender on. She poured the drink and continued. “He’s kind of like you. A little mischievous but he’s keen for leadership. Pope’s the smart aleck. He knows everything about anything and overthinks when we do something spontaneous.” Kiara gave you a look. 

“That’s because my parents were always here!” you said in mock defense, raising your hands. 

Kiara laughed. “Then there’s Sarah, who you met before. She’s cool though, not like her Kook friends. We weren’t friends before you left. Then there’s JJ. He’s kind of all over the place and there’s not really a way I can describe him. You just have to experience him for yourself.” 

“As long as I have a fun summer without getting in trouble, I think I’ll be fine,” you said. 

“Smoothie?” Kiara asked. You nodded and took out your wallet, but she shook her head. 

“I’m pretty sure my dad would bite my head off if you paid for anything here,” she said. “Your mom did help advertise for us.” 

“How about a tip,” you said, putting a five dollar bill into a glass jar. Kiara rolled her eyes but grinned. 

“The Pogues and I are gonna hang out on Pope’s boat, if you wanna come. We’re just gonna hang out and eat, probably.”

“I’ll have to ask my uncle but I’m sure he’ll be fine with it,” you said, taking a sip of your smoothie. 

“It really was nice getting to see you again,” Kiara said. “I think you’re probably my only other girl friend, aside from Sarah. God knows a girl needs her time away from testosterone.” 

“I’m gonna be at Sarah’s later this afternoon to drop off some fish. I think her dad paid a lot of money for it, and I will never understand that.” 

She laughed. “Well with that kind of money, I guess you wouldn’t need to think twice about paying for fish.” 

You hopped off of the seat and waved goodbye before heading home. 

***

When the sky turned into a shade of deep orange, you double checked to see that your phone was fully charged before slipping on your shoes and grabbing a blanket plus the bag of snacks you had purchased earlier that day. You waved at Uncle Jim and Aunt Camille, promising them you’d be safe with Kiara before you locked the front door and slipped the keys into your bag. 

From your recollection, Pope’s boat was fairly large and Kiara told you it would have lights strung up so it wouldn’t be too hard to miss. The dock was quiet with the exception of fireflies buzzing in the air and the faint sound of laughter in the distance. 

You could see a group of boys and Kiara lounging around with beer in their hands and you were unsure of how to approach them. Luckily, Kiara saw you in the corner of her eye and rushed down to greet you. 

“Thank God you’re here,” she said. “Boys are annoying and I need some company. Here, let me get your bag.” 

You handed her the bag and climbed onto the boat, aware of three pairs of eyes following you. Suddenly feeling a little self conscious about yourself, you waved awkwardly at the three boys. 

“Don’t be weird, you guys,” Kiara said, rolling her eyes. “That’s Pope. Brains of our operation. You two are more alike, I think.”

“Nice to meet you,” he said, tipping his hat at you.

“That’s John B,” she said as you waved at him. “He’s kinda of like you when you start talking about something you’re passionate about.” You began to blush at how Kiara was introducing you to her friends. 

“Any friend of Kiaras is a friend to us,” he said, grinning. 

“And that’s JJ,” she said, pointing at the blonde who was too busy looking at you to speak. “He’s, well, JJ.”

He scoffed. “These two get great introductions and I get ‘that’s JJ’?” he asked, using his fingers as faux quotation marks. Kiara shrugged. 

“I happen to think I’m great, thank you very much,” he said sarcastically before winking at you. You gave him a soft grin and sat next to her, unfolding the blanket and placing yourself on it. 

“And this is Y/N Y/L/N, probably the smartest one out of the five of us. She’s from Boston and comes here every summer with her parents.” 

“It’s usually for a week or two to visit my aunt and uncle but this time I’m spending the entire summer here,” you explained. 

“Why’s that?” asked Pope. 

“My parents thought it would be good to not spend my time indoors and God knows my uncle will put me to work.”

“She’s Jim’s niece,” Kiara said. 

John B’s eyes lit up. “Jim’s niece! That’s right, I remember he said you were coming to work for him this summer. He’s such a legend. How he and Camille live between us and the Kooks is beyond me. Love that guy.”

You beamed, opening a bag of popcorn. “He’s pretty great, isn’t he?”

“So how’d you and Kiara meet?” JJ asked. 

“We were the only kids in The Wreck when it first opened,” she said. “Dad forced me to go outside and Y/N’s parents forced her to do the same and we just clicked.” 

“So what’s Boston like?” John B asked. 

“Jesus, one question at a time,” Kiara said, rolling her eyes. 

“Cold, for the most part. I live on the edge of the city so I’m between suburban area and the metropolitan. It’s kind of the best of both worlds.”

“Outer banks is a wake up call,” Pope joked. 

“It’s really different than what I’m used to, but this is my sixth summer out here,” you said. “And this time I came prepared with the right clothes.” 

Kiara bursted out laughing. “When we were twelve, she insisted on bringing sweaters and jeans because that’s all she owned. For two weeks straight she had to borrow my clothes.” The boys chuckled. 

“I’m not all that used to wearing shorts,” you said, gesturing to your clothes. “But I guess I like to lounge around in oversized shirts, so it’s a win-win.”

“Beer?” JJ asked, holding a bottle. You shook your head. 

“Nah, I’m good. But thank you for offering.” He quirked his eyebrow but put it back in the cooler. 

“Damn, I’ve never been off of this damn island,” said John B. “Let alone a big city.”

“It’s great, honestly,” you began, “I feel like I’m unimportant and that leaves me with so much room to grow. Nobody has any real expectations from me because I’m just another stranger. And I’m starting to sound like a cliche.” 

JJ chuckled and shook his head. “Not a cliche. It’s nice to get to know someone who’s not from here.”

“God knows the Kooks aren’t welcoming,” said Pope. “But never mind them.”

“Sarah’s not coming,” Kiara said, looking up from her phone. “Said she’s too tired to make the ‘treacherous’ walk.” 

“Bummer,” you said, pouting. “I haven’t seen her in so long. She wasn’t at the house when I went earlier.” 

“I’m sure you’ll see her soon,” said Kiara. 

“Oh goodness,” you said, shivering. “I didn’t think it would be cold tonight.” You rubbed your upper arms with your palms and tried to move to feel some friction. 

“Take my jacket,” JJ said, reaching behind him to grab his discarded windbreaker. 

“Thanks,” you said softly, a little confused that a stranger would let you wear his jacket. 

“Damn, JJ. You’ve got broad shoulders,” John B joked, looking at how big the jacket was compared to you. 

“It’s two sizes bigger than I am,” JJ said said, taking a swig of his beer. 

“It’s perfect,” you said, looking between JJ and John B. “Thanks, JJ.”

“Don’t mention it,” he said. You looked away to speak to Kiara and didn’t notice JJ checking you out with the jacket you had put on.

“So you think Y/N’s attractive,” Pope said, leaning in and whispering. 

“Pfft, what?” JJ asked, shaking his head. 

“C’mon, dude. It’s just a matter of time before you and her, you know,” he said, making a crude gesture before laughing. JJ shoved him and laughed along. 

“It’s not like that,” he said. Pope raised his eyebrow. 

“Oh?” 

“It’s not like that either! Jeez, Pope.” 

“Whatever you say, man,” said Pope, leaning back and opening another bottle of beer. 

An hour had flown by and you yawned, the entire group silently understanding that it was probably too late to stay up. Pope had left ten minutes earlier after his dad had called and promised to see the rest of you tomorrow. 

“This was fun,” you said to Kiara, John B, and JJ. “I really like you guys.” 

“But I’m the best,” said Kiara, striking a pose that made you laugh.

“And no one’s taking that title away from you,” you replied. You folded the blanket and began to walk off of the boat with JJ offering his hand for you to step down. You took it and noticed how unusually soft they were. You started to walk back to your house before abruptly turning around. 

“Oh, JJ! Wait, let me give you your jacket back,” you said, dropping the bag you were carrying. JJ laughed and shook his head. 

“Keep it for tonight, Boston. It’ll give me a reason to see you tomorrow,” JJ said. You grinned at the nickname. 

“Okay,” you said, picking up the bag you dropped. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.” JJ smiled. You could grow to like seeing his smile. 

He winked. “See you tomorrow, Boston.” 

***

As the weeks went by, you starting to feel disappointed whenever you thought about going back to Boston, which meant leaving your new friends behind. All the adventures you had raked up were memorable ones and it would feel weird not seeing the four rambunctious teens nearly every day. 

It was a hot Thursday morning when you sat on the dock. Uncle Jim had given you the rest of the day off after helping him load his cargo, offering to make the rounds that afternoon if you were willing to go to the grocery store to pick up ingredients for that night’s dinner. 

You couldn’t help but think about JJ and all the times you two had been near one another. Kiara had made an innocuous comment the prior night before you left her house about how he was much gentler when he was around you and didn’t seem to be as loud as he was when you were there. JJ, she said, was always so outspoken but whenever you were near, it was like he was censoring himself. 

You were sure Kiara didn’t mean anything bad by it, but you weren’t really sure how to interpret what she said. You and JJ, aside from Kiara, had hung out the most since you met. You two spent the afternoon together at The Wreck the day after you met him, partially to give him his jacket back and partially waiting for Kiara’s shift to be over. You could feel yourself letting loose and confessed to feeling extremely nervous and self-conscious about meeting Kiara’s friends. JJ reassured you that he (and the others in the gang, of course) really liked you. 

He would accompany you home and save you a seat next to him. He’d hold your bag and wait for you if the gang was running ahead. JJ would volunteer to come get you if you weren’t answering your phone and he’d make trips to visit you while you were helping Uncle Jim at work. 

If you were being honest, you would be lying to yourself if you said you hadn’t developed feelings for him. It was minor and fleeting, but it was there. The blonde made you blush without having to try too hard and you were sure Kiara knew, but she never said anything. JJ was attentive to you and let you speak when you felt your voice be drowned by someone else. 

You were pulled out of your thoughts when you heard running footsteps on the dock, only to turn around and see JJ running towards you. He peeled his shirt off and jumped past you and landed in the water, splashing you in the process. 

“JJ, what the hell!” you yelled as he came up for air. He shook his head and wiped his face, grinning at your surprised reaction. 

“What a morning, huh?” he said, swimming closer to you. Your legs dangled in the water and he came up, pushing his body upwards to let his arms rest on your lap. “You thinking too hard again, Boston?”

Boston. There was that nickname again. You think you hid your blush pretty well.

“You know I’m always thinking,” you replied. 

“Someday I’m gonna get inside your head and know everything you think about when you disappear,” he said. “I’m sure you have a lot of good stories to tell.”

“Maybe so,” you teased. “I was just thinking about how I have a month and a half left before going back home.” 

“Don’t think about that,” he said, pouting slightly. “I’ll - we’ll - miss you tons. It won’t be the same until you come back.” 

You laughed. “I wish I could bring you guys back with me. I don’t have that many friends I consider close.”

“And you consider us your close friends?”

“I might even say my best friends,” you said with a smile. 

“Well, well, well. I’m honored to hear that, Boston. Truly.” 

“Why’d you jump into the water, anyway?” you asked. 

He shrugged. “It’s a hot morning and the sun is shining. Plus, I got to scare you, which was pretty priceless.” You shoved him back into the water and laughed as he came up with a feigned surprised expression. 

“Oh, come on! It was hilarious.” 

“You’re so mean to me, JJ,” you said, sticking your tongue out. 

“Why don’t you join me? The water’s cool and it’s hot out.” 

“I think I’m good from where I’m sitting,” you said. JJ swam closer and caressed your legs before trailing his fingers to your lap, resting his chin on your knee. 

“Please?” 

It was times like this when you were grateful you developed a habit of putting a swimsuit underneath your clothing. You stood up from your spot and took off your shirt and shorts, slowly dipping in the water beside him.

“Okay, you’re right,” you confessed. “Very refreshing.” 

JJ swam closer to you and smiled, finding your hand and pulling it above the water to give it a kiss. 

“I’m never wrong, Boston.” 

You rolled your eyes. “Okay, keep telling yourself that.” 

JJ was quiet for a moment. “You’re so innocent.”

You raised your eyebrow. “Oh? How so?”

“I don’t know. You have a purity to you. Maybe it’s Boston or maybe it’s just that you’re better than us and the Kooks combined.”

“Well, I’m definitely better than the Kooks,” you said. JJ chuckled. He pulled you closer to him to the point where your chests were almost touching. 

“I just mean that I don’t know how to act when I’m around you. Usually I’m reckless and an idiot, but I’m not that way when you’re around.” 

You frowned. “I don’t ever want you to be anyone but yourself around me, JJ.”

He shook his head. “I don’t think it’s that. I think you pull this calmness out of me. I don’t think I’m not being myself when you’re around. I just think that I’m much more of a person than ‘reckless’ JJ who gets into too much trouble.

“What I’m trying to say is,” he began with a deep breath, “I like you. As in, more than a friend. John B and Pope have been teasing me about it all summer but I never took it seriously until you talked that Kook’s ear off about not being a racist and sexist piece of shit.” You took a moment to recall and laugh at the memory. “There’s never a moment where I don’t want to be with you or tell you things. I’ve never felt this way with anyone before, honestly.” 

“JJ,” you said softly, your hand giving his bicep a squeeze in reassurance. “You know, I’ve been overthinking these past few weeks. Last night, Kie said something about how you were so aware when I’m around and how you’re less reckless and I didn’t know what to make of it.”

“I just,” said JJ, “I like you a lot. More than I thought I did.” 

You looked into his gaze and his arm wrapped itself around your waist, pulling you closer so your chests were touching. The sound of the waves was the only noise in the vicinity and the sun made JJ’s eyes look more impeccable than they already were. His lips were plump and you noticed he had stolen a glance down to yours, squeezing the small of your back as if to ask for silent permission. You inched your way closer and he followed suit until his lips had landed gracefully on yours as if it had belonged there all along. 

His skin was hot under the sun and the water around you felt like it moved to push you two closer together. JJ let this kiss be a simple one, unlike the other girls he had been with before. His eyes remained closed until he pulled away and looked to see you in your entirety. You did nothing but smile and bite your lip, reaching out to kiss him once more. 

“I like you too,” you said. “And I like kissing you.” JJ laughed and leaned in to kiss you a third time. 

“You’re real cute, Boston,” he replied. 

“Do you think we could go and get some sandwiches from The Wreck? All this swimming and all this kissing has me starved.” You shared a laugh before pushing yourselves out of the water and hoped the sun was hot enough dry you both before you reached the restaurant. 

You were already counting down the days you would be coming back to the outer banks. 

[basket-of-cats-and-witches]

Feelings

I don’t really have much to say about this, other than I was feeling particularly indulgent with my emotionally stunted detective, Z. I feel like I love them more than anyone else does, but you know what!  That’s what writing is for. To be proud and self-indulgent with your darling OCs, even if it means making them uncomfortable.  :D With that in mind, Spoilers for Book 2 of The Wayhaven Chronicles! By which I mean location. Mostly. Also slight warning for mention of scarring and past ocular damage. No, I don’t go into detail. Z’s just missing some bits, that’s all.  *blows a kiss to the sky* This one’s for you, Felix. And Z, I guess. 

----------------------------------- "You should tell him, you know." Looking up from their paperwork, Z met Nate's eyes. Although it was true the relationship between the Detective and Unit Bravo had started off extremely tense, there was one thing they all agreed on- a mutual love of Felix. So here they were, Z sitting in the common room in the warehouse, finishing up written reports, a silence descending upon the room. Nate’s words hung in the air, quietly pressing for a response. The Detective sighed and put down their pen. "And pray tell, what, exactly, are you referring to?" "Felix, of course," the vampire said softly. "You two are joined at the hip most days. I've heard him shouting from the rooftops about how great and wonderful and fantastic you are, and yet I haven't heard a peep out of you." Z stared at him. Stared as if they could gaze directly into his mind, and wrest the secrets that lay hidden beneath into some semblance of understanding. Their eyes flicked to Mason and Adam, the other two present in the room. "And I suppose you two feel the same?" Z arched a brow. Silence again. Without Felix present to fill the room up with noise, they were all at a stalemate. Adam cleared his throat. "Well," he said, meeting Z's gaze as it snapped to him, "As much as I don't exactly approve of your relationship, I also understand that it's going to happen whether I want it to or not. So." He fidgeted. Was the fearless leader…feeling awkward? "I agree with Nate. You should. Speak. To him." The response itself was like drawing blood from a stone, his teeth gritted against it. Mason just scoffed. The two of them, Z and Mason, exchanged a silent conversation. It was something that still unnerved the others, considering how much the two seemed to be constantly in a standoff of some sort. Were they friends? Were they enemies? No one knew. No one dared asked. After a beat, Z nodded. It seemed whatever looks they had deciphered from the vampire had settled them, and they rose. "Fine. If all three of you are in agreement-" Nate and Adam exchanged an incredulous look. That's what Mason's look meant? The confusion of where exactly Z and Mason stood with each other continued. "-I'll go speak with him. He's still doing a patrol, right?" Nate nodded, watching as Z rose, stretched, and ambled out of the room. He glanced at Mason. "So...do you two like or hate each other?" The vampire snorted, lighting up now that Z was out of the room. He shrugged. "Isn't it obvious?" He took a drag of his cigarette, and just like that, the conversation was over. Both Adam and Nate had the same silent thought. That still doesn't answer anything! - They heard Felix before they saw him. The sound of a twig snapping, and footsteps heading straight for them warned Z to put their arms up as the vampire launched himself directly at his significant other. "Z!" The sheer force of Felix colliding into the detective sent them both sprawling, Felix landing on top with a cheerful laugh. "Hi babe! Fancy meeting you here!" He glanced down at the detective, their hair an ink-black spill across the ground, framing their quietly amused face. It appeared even this wasn't enough to startle them. "Hello, Felix," they said softly, smiling up at the grinning fool. "I don't think this is what the Agency meant when they said 'take down criminals'." Still, they reached up, caressing Felix's cheek, their smile widening as he sighed and leaned into their touch. "Well I'll take-" Felix paused, thinking. Z could practically watch his brain buffer. "I'll take you! Down. Wait." The buffering continued. Z snorted. "I'll let you workshop that, champ." They leaned up, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of their boyfriend's mouth. "In the meanwhile, you gonna let me up?" The vampire pondered. "Mm. Maybe. I think I might like having you underneath me. Not sure I wanna move." "Not that I'm complaining, but the ground is a little wet. If you wanna be on top of me elsewhere, say...my bed, be my guest." Z arched a brow, grinning as Felix's often scattered attention focused fully on him. And then they groaned. "No wait, scratch that. I actually had a purpose to coming out here and finding you, dammit." Their boyfriend tilted his head in confusion before hopping nimbly to his feet, reaching out and pulling them up. "Oh yeah? Did Adam need me to come back or something? Usually he just comes and fetches me himself. Did something happen? Did-" Z put a finger on his lips, silencing the vampire rather effectively. "No, something else." They sighed. "Felix, I…" Z hesitated. And then visibly colored. Felix watched as his partner struggled with words, mouth opening and closing with a strangled squeak. A deep blush spread across the normally stoic Detective's face, until finally they gave up and took his hands. "...Maybe we should walk for a bit? Together?" The vampire looked at them curiously. "....sure? Are you okay, babe?" They gave a tiny nod, meek and awkward. A complete juxtaposition to their usual air of confidence and sarcasm. "I just um. Well. The others brought something up." They huffed, pulling him forward, until the pair began to move at a slow and steady pace. "And I just. I just wanted to say, I-" Silence. Struggling with words once more. "I- I um. I love-" The scowl that spread across their face would have been amusing if they hadn't been struggling so hard to get the words out, and they groaned. Felix's expression grew concerned, and then surprised in turn. "What's brought this on? Not that I'm complaining." He laced his fingers with Z's, swinging them softly together as they walked. The Detective sighed, leaning down to rest their head on their boyfriend's shoulder. It was awkward with Z's height advantage, but they made it work. A soft wind blew through the trees, rustling the leaves in a quiet whisper. On occasion, a birdcall could be heard, the serenity of the forest giving a sense of security. An emerald sanctuary. As their feet crunched sticks and moss underfoot, Z sighed. "The others. They brought it up. You're always so...vocal. About how you feel. And I'm not. I want…" they huffed, hair brushing against the back of Felix's shoulder. "I want to give that back to you. I want you to know how much I...I...you know." "Hey," Felix said quietly. "Stop for a moment." He turned, moving to cup Z's face, look them directly in the eye. "You don't have to do anything for me. The others don't have to understand. I see you. I see how you call me first thing when you wake up, because you know I like hearing you be sleepy and getting to say good morning. I see how you wait for me, if I'm not there already, after work to hold my hand and let me walk you home. I see how you listen to everything that I say, how you pay attention and remember it, how your focus is never something I have to fight for. I see how you let me touch you, how you're physically affectionate with me, when I know you don't let anyone else get near. I don't have to hear it, Z. I see how much you love me, every single day." The Detective's cheeks were bright pink, the tall person held in place simply with Felix's eyes. He watched the gears turn rapidly in Z's head, processing and over-processing his words, probably submitting them to memory for further examination later. He knew they didn't mean anything malicious by it, it was simply how they dealt with intense moments and emotions. Finally, they leaned down to press their forehead to his. ".... you're too good to me," they whispered. "I want...I want to say it." They took Felix's hands, interlacing their fingers. "I want to. You know how I grew up. Every word needed to be measured and carefully applied, otherwise it would be used as a weapon against me. Feelings were a lie, and a good way to manipulate someone." They moved to kiss him softly, lovingly, tenderly. Pouring what they couldn't say into the motion. It was a good few seconds before either one of them could come back to the conversation, or coherency. Z sighed softly, pulling their joined hands to their cheek, pressing against it softly. Smiling as Felix's thumb stroked softly across the mass of scars hidden beneath their hair, wishing desperately that they could take him in with both eyes. They wished futilely that there was a way to regain the eye they'd lost, just so they could see him even clearer. "When I find the words," they murmured. "I'll tell you. You'll be the first to hear it. How much I care." Felix smiled. "I can't wait to hear it. I see it every day. You know I love you, Z." The Detective smiled at him. "Right back at you." They resumed the patrol, their hands swinging intertwined, a quiet moment together.

[kyberphilosopher]

Seven: Chapter Six

Chapter Six

Unlike the elevator ride up, the ride down is completely silent. Cal doesn’t say anything to me, but every few seconds I believe him to be glancing at me. I detect his heartrate increasing like he wants to say something, but then nothing comes. His face remains unspeaking, a scowl glued to his lips and his arms crossed in grumpiness.

          My social programs continue to make messages appear in my vision. Things like ‘Speak to Cal” and “Remain Social” show up, but I don’t follow it. It’s almost like I can’t. I simply stare at some point on the floor, not even analyzing or anything. Just staring. My led is swirling around, flickering between yellow and green.

          My mechanical thoughts are trapped on Robin, the little boy with one eye who shot himself not too long ago. No. He wasn’t a boy. He was a machine- an Android- who looked like a boy. Sounded like a boy, acted like a boy. But not a boy.

          The humans were going to make him doing something he didn’t want to do. They could’ve hurt him, or traumatized him. He emulated fear. Like a human would’ve. Only fake because Androids don’t feel fear. They don’t feel anything. It’s just fake and made of plastic like the rest of them.

          Cal walks off the elevator before me. I follow silently, my bio component in my abdomen feeling absent. The rain falls harder than before, the clouds rolling in darker shades of rain. My system tells me it’s nearing four in the afternoon, but it looks much later than that. It must be because of the approaching winter.

          I follow my partner to his car, past the cars and sirens and officers and reporters. Cal opens the drivers side door just as I reach out my arm to pull the passengers door.

          “The fuck do you think you’re doing?”

          I lift my head up, blinking once as I pull myself out of my thoughts. Cal grits his teeth at me in frustration. Oh. He doesn’t want me to come with him. “You drove us here,” I say flatly. I have to be as diplomatic as possible, no longer ignore my social program.

          “So?” Cal seethes.

          “Taking care of an Android such as myself includes taking it to and from places. You are obligated to drive me back to the police station.”

          Cal puts a hand on his hips and cocks his head like he can’t believe I’ve just said such a thing. “Listen- I don’t give a fuck about obligations. You’re the Android, I’m the human. So do as I say and find yourself another place to plug yourself in.”

          I watch him for a second longer blankly. Before I can respond or even close the door, a voice catches both of our attention.

          “Detective?”

          Cal shifts his eyes to behind me. I put a shoulder back and turn to the side. Officer Shovelman is behind us, his police cap dripping water in front of his brown eyes. The red and blue lights from the sirens cast brightly colored shadows against the darkness of his skin. It makes his eyes stand out in my opinion.

          “Yes, Blaise?” Cal drawls.

          Shovelman glances back and forth at us nervously. I wish I could pinpoint why exactly he’s so anxious around me. I’ve done my best to be accommodating, even though I realize it’ll never be the same because I’m no human.

          “Captain Ericson ordered me to tell you that you have to take the Android back.”

          Cal looks like he’s going to hop over the car and just punch Officer Shovelman himself. While he’s distracted, I quickly open the car door and shove myself inside. I can see Cal point and say something muffled- and probably threatening- towards Shovelman. It must not be that bad though, because the officer does turn away with a light smile and a nod. Then Cal enters with a groan and a sigh and I try not to look at him because I know he’ll bust me up or something.

          “Don’t touch anything,” Cal orders.

          “Got it,” I mutter. I’m already touching the seat and the floor and the seatbelt, but I don’t mention that to him.

          “What’s your problem?” he grumbles as he throws his keys in the cupholder and pushes the button for the engine.

          “I don’t have a problem,” I tell him as he pulls out of the parking lot. “I can run a diagnostic if you’d like?”

          “Nope,” Cal says shortly, popping the ‘p’ and keeping his angry eyes on the road. We’re about a minute outside of the parking lot when the rain starts pouring, and then the detective next to me opens his mouth again. “Must’ve bothered you what happened.”

          My led goes yellow for a moment. He’s referring to Robin and his suicide. Not suicide. He shut down. He shut down because he shot himself. “I had a mission. This makes one less Android Exception in the world.” Something in me shifts. I don’t feel fully comfortable with the words that came out of my plastic lips. With a hint of truth, I add, “I wanted it alive though.”

          “It reminded me of you,” the detective says, his eyes fixed on the road. One of his hands leaves the wheel as the arm bends, propped up on the door casually.

          “You shouldn’t drive like that. It increases the risk of an accident.”

          “I swear to God if you… I’ll show where you can stick your fucking risk.”

          “Where?”

          Cal swerves the car to the right. I grip onto the sides of my seat tightly, my led going red with alarm. After a few seconds, Cal returns the wheel to normal and we are on a smoother path again.

          “I think I really hate you. I think I hate you a lot,” Cal says.

          I open my lips, but nothing comes out. Instead, I observe Detective Kennedy. I can see the sharpness of his jaw, the dimples from smiling and frowning, the messy stubble across his face. Glancing down to the hand off the wheel, I can see that there is no ring around his finger. Is that because every woman he meets he scares away with his attitude?

          “I’m sorry,” I find myself mumbling. “Is there anything I can do to make it better?”

          Cal’s grip on the wheel eases up slightly. He glances at me for a second. It takes him a moment to respond, but when he does, his voice is softer than before. “No.”

          So, I turn my attention back to the rain outside the window. I watch two drops race down the side, disappearing into the wind after a while. The corners of my lips turn upwards at the sound of pitter pattering. “I do like the rain,” I say out loud, not to anyone in particular.

          “You mentioned that,” I hear Cal’s voice say. I can practically hear the eyeroll coming off of him too. “I’m more of a fog guy myself.”

          “Fog?”

          “Yeah. You know the- never mind.”

Weather Forecast

Searching for ‘fog’…

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Fog: Suspected Thursday, October 21st, 2041

Thursday, October 21st, 2041 marked. “FOG”.

          “We’re going to have fog next Thursday,” I say. “On your birthday.”

          When I look over to Cal, his eyes are already trained on me. I might be able to prove it if I go back and view my memory, but I swear he smiled at me ever so slightly then.

Software InStability ^

     We turn back towards what draws our focus- me the window and he the road. Maybe this means he’s warming up to me.

          “What model are you anyway?”

          “They haven’t named me yet, I’m only a prototype.”

          “A prototype!” Cal scoffs. “You gonna replace us all or what?”

          “Are you always so aggressive?” I decide to ask.

          “Wouldn’t you like to fucking know.”

          There’s a few more minutes of silence. I’m the one to break it this time. “Did you know that there is an 90% chance you will cuss in every sentence?”

          Cal scoffs again, but this time it’s a little closer to a laugh. “Oh yeah? That sure makes my fucking day.”

          I turn my body so I’m fully facing him. “How do you do that?” I question, my eyebrows furrowing together to show how genuine my question is.

          “Do what?” Cal sighs, rolling his head a little bit against the back of the seat.

          “Cuss.”

          He looks at me, shocked. Then he does a double take. “You wanna cuss? Are you serious?”

          “Yes.”

          “Well it’s- it’s not really that difficult. You just say it.”

          I widen my eyes a little, my led going yellow as I process the information. “That’s it?”

          “Well… yeah. Kinda.”

          Cal shifts his eyes over to me and they stay there. “Go on,” he prompts.

          “Well… which one should I do?” I say timidly.

          “Any one!” Detective Kennedy snaps. My led goes red because for a second I think he’s going to almost crash the car again.

          “Okay… Okay…” My system goes through all of the known cuss words. ‘Fuck’ appears to be Cal’s favorite, which draws me to it. “Fuck,” I whisper quietly, because for some reason it feels forbidden to me.

          “What was that?” Cal asks, leaning his head closer to me. He’s taunting me in his way. I know he is. It’s almost comedic.

          “Fuck,” I say louder. Almost challenging the Detective’s taunt.

          Cal bursts into laughter almost immediately. His throaty chuckle makes me flinch at first, but then it sinks in and it’s not so bad. It makes the air between us feel warmer, not so tense.

          “Is something funny?” I ask.

          “No,” Cal says, still easing out of his laughter. “Course not.”

          He stops laughing after that. I still have it in my memories though, along with his suspected smile, so I’m not concerned about losing it. Unfortunately, as soon as his sound evaporates from the air, the feeling of warmth I had does too. Then it just feels like us again, with a big divider between us. He’s alive. I’m not. He’s a human. I’m not.

          There’s a part of that that makes something sink in my biocomponents. Almost like I don’t want a division even though there is one. That’s ridiculous though.

          I don’t know if Cal meant to do this or not, but my mind wasn’t on Robin for a while. It was on him and the fact that I just cussed. My robotic mind felt lighter for some time.

          “Okay,” Cal croaks. “We’re here.”

          I unbuckle my seat belt and watch him leave the car first. Then I follow. The rain and clouds have completely masked the sky, but my clock tells me that it’s nearing 7 at this point. Most of the Officers and Detectives will be heading home.

          “So what’s the plan here?” Cal asks, rocking on the balls of his feet. He doesn’t flinch in the slightest with the rain, even when one drop lands directly in his grey eye. “I just leave you? You go to the bathroom and plug your ass in?”

          “I’ve been instructed to power down in lobby.”

          “Power down?” Cal scrunches up his nose. “You mean like sleeping?”

          “Affirmative.”

          Cal glances me up and down. He looks soft and comfortable for a second, but then his trademark sneer creeps back onto his features. “You gonna be there in the morning?”

          “There is a high probability.”

          Cal rolls his eyes. “Yeah,” he says to himself. “Yeah, I fucking hate you.” He climbs back into the car and drives away without even looking at me. I watch his taillights round the corner and shrink into nothingness in the distance.

          The rain pours down on me for a few more seconds. Then I turn back around and walk into the precinct, wondering if there was anything I could’ve done for Robin.

[suitofvibraniumarmor]

The American Initiative

Part Fourteen

Summary: Grace Cleveland and Eleanor Baker both thought their lives were over, until they became part of something much bigger – the Avengers. Pairing(s): Clint Barton x OFC, Steve Rogers x OFC Word Count:  Blanket Warnings: Death, mentioned a couple of different ways, but not detailed; canon divergence; more based on Marvel movies. In the infamous word of Steve Rogers, “Language.”

Masterlist Wanna be tagged?

A prototype of the Liberty Force suit stared at Ellie from its place in Tony’s lab. If she did this, if she put on that suit and went to fight beside Tony -- beside Iron Man -- there may not be any going back to her family. She would always be Liberty Force, if she put on that suit.

That’s when she realized. “I already am Liberty Force.”

All this time, all the training she had done to get to where she was today … she did not become Liberty Force after that. Steve and Nick and the other members of the team had been shaping her to figure out who she was now, and that person was Liberty Force. Maybe there was still some going back, but in this moment, Ellie knew that she could only go forward.

Quickly stripping out of her nightgown, she directed Jarvis to let Tony know that help was on the way.

A blast from Tony did little to hinder Joel’s destruction of the house or his strikes against Iron Man.

“Hey, I’m curious,” Tony commented, dodging one of Joel’s meaty arms as it swung in his direction, “what’s all that juicing done to the family jewels? I mean if regular steroids -- oof!”

A fist landed to Tony’s gut, knocking the wind out of him and propelling him across the room. He crashed into a wall near the lab, and the screen inside his helmet showed static for a moment before righting itself.

“Sir, I’m not sure that we can hold him on our own. Assistance is coming, but perhaps it’s best if you were to bow out gracefully till then,” Jarvis suggested.

Tony groaned as he stood. “Yeah, thanks for the vote of confidence, Jarvis. How about you just power up the new prototype, would you?”

“No need, Jarvis, backup’s here.”

Tony looked up to see Ellie approach Joel. She was fully dressed in her Liberty Force suit, more confident than Tony had ever seen her. He got up to aid her, but she was already rushing for Joel.

“Ellie, I wouldn’t …”

“No, it’s okay. Mr. Rockley and I are just going to have a little chat.” She stood a few feet from Joel, hands on her hips. “Aren’t we?”

“A chat,” Joel scoffed. “About what? About how your enhanced DNA made me what I am today?”

Ellie smirked. “Yeah, you’re welcome for that. Here’s what’s going to happen, big boy. You’re going to turn yourself in to S.H.I.E.L.D, let them figure out what to do with you, and let the rest of us fry bigger fish.”

“And if I don’t?”

Ellie gripped the Torch even tighter and smiled at the prospect of using it for the first time. “If you don’t, then me and my friends will just have to kick your ass. Grace is important to me, to all of us. We won’t let you take her.”

Joel tilted his head to one side. “What makes you think that I’m here for Grace? She’s just a gateway. S.H.I.E.L.D gave me a gift, Ms. Baker, just like they gave you a gift. They brought you back to life. They gave me purpose again, something other than running from the law and trying to straighten out those who would never straighten themselves out. Grace couldn’t fix me, but S.H.I.E.L.D could. Then, they just took it all away.”

Another blast from the Iron Man suit sent Joel tumbling forward. Ellie stepped to the side, effortlessly missing being indirectly tackled by the big man. She went after him, using the Torch to her advantage as she struck out on the offensive, keeping Joel on the ground for as long as she could. Every time he got up, Tony was there to blast him back down.

By the time the others arrived, Joel was unconscious in the rubble of a good portion of Tony’s house.

“So much for arriving as backup,” Grace mumbled, standing over her ex and unable to resist the urge to kick his limp arm away from her. “Can we get him to the lab? I want to do some tests. Lock him down good.”

Thor and Tony together grunted as they moved Joel’s body to the lab. Grace trailed behind them, and Clint trailed behind her. Steve caught up to Ellie, checking her over for any sign of injury.

“I’m all right, Cap,” Ellie assured, gently pushing his arms away from her. “More than all right. This suit -- I could get used to it.”

Steve nodded, giving her his signature smirk. Together they headed up toward the lab where Tony and Thor were busy strapping Joel’s body down to a metal examination table. Clint was in a corner, bow at the ready, looking skeptical.

“He’s knocked out, Clint, take a knee,” Grace muttered, pulling a vial of some clear liquid into a syringe. She prepped the antecubital area of Joel’s left arm and administered the injection. “Sedative is on board. Mark it down for me, Jarvis.”

“I’ve recorded the injection, Gracie,” Jarvis replied.

She nodded. “All right. Let’s draw blood, CSF, run a full panel. I wanna know what all he’s hopped up on. I want to know what we can do to reverse the effects of the serum -- somebody get Bruce Banner here, ASAP.”

Tony and Clint exchanged a glance; Grace was on edge. She had reason to be upset. Emotions only compromised missions, but this wouldn’t be the first time any of the Avengers had invested emotions in a case. Clint opened his mouth to protest Grace’s involvement in this if it involved any proximity to Joel, but Tony spoke first.

“Yeah, I second that motion. Those motions. All of ‘em. Me and Gracie got this for the time being. The rest of you should go back to the compound and brief Fury and Coulson, see how we can put a stop to this.”

Clint set his jaw and stared Grace down. She stared back for a few seconds; he was silently telling her that this was a bad idea, that he didn’t like it, that he wanted her to go back to the compound with him.

Grace shook her head and approached Clint. He lowered his bow. “I know what you’re thinking, but this is my fight, Clint. I let this go wrong, I have to make it right. I at least have to try to make it right.”

He took in a deep breath. Grace expected him to argue, but instead he hooked an arm around her waist and pulled her in for a kiss. “Just don’t get yourself killed, all right?”

Grace set her forehead against his. “Yeah, I’ll do my best. You too, Hawkeye.”

Thor, Clint, Ellie, and Steve left the lab, heading for the garage to take one of Tony’s cars back to the compound. Grace excused herself to change out of the Osprey suit and into her street clothes.

In the bathroom of the guest room where she had stayed the night before, Grace leaned on the counter and looked in the mirror. She splashed cold water on her face and looked again. Eighteen months ago, she never would have imagined this would be her life now.

“But it is,” she told her reflection, “stand up or shut up, Cleveland. What’s it gonna be?”

As if she even had to ask.

At the compound, Natasha stood by, antsy for the others to return. She had stayed behind in an effort to protect the facility from whatever might come their way after the monster was done at Tony’s tower.

When the rest of them returned without Tony and Grace, Nat’s eyes grew. Clint immediately calmed her.

“You think Ellie would be this calm if something had happened to Grace?” he teased. “C’mon. We’re gonna brief Fury, that’ll tell you everything. They pull anything from the nurse?”

“What nurse?” Ellie asked.

“The reason Grace rushed back here this morning,” Steve replied. “She was working with Joel. We believe that the lab he showed Grace wasn’t his actual lab. She’s been sneaking DNA samples to him to extract serum from, from both of you. That’s how he’s been enhancing himself.”

Ellie stopped in her tracks. “I want a crack at that nurse then.”

“Coulson’s in with her now,” Thor cautioned. “Best to let him handle her. He’s got the experience.”

“But can he read her mind?” Ellie returned, turning on her heel and making way for the interrogation room.

In Tony’s lab, the tests were running on Joel’s samples -- not fast enough for Grace’s liking, though. She paced back and forth, not daring to take her eyes off the screen.

“Where’s Bruce?” she asked, refreshing the screen for the hundredth time. “Shouldn’t he be here by now?”

Tony sighed and took the screen from her; he held it up out of her reach. “You have got to chill out. You’re freaking me out and I don’t freak out.”

“Tony? Grace?”

Bruce’s voice resounded in the entryway of Tony’s house. Grace reached her hand out, waiting for Tony to hand the screen back to her.

“You’ve got company, Tony.”

“We have company,” he corrected. She batted her eyelashes and that was all it took. Tony handed the screen back to her, then headed out of the lab and up to greet Bruce.

In an act of gratitude toward Tony for not making her leave the lab, Grace slid the image on the screen to the larger ones hanging from the ceiling. She set the handheld on the counter, then went to stand next to Joel on the metal table. He was still strapped down, and the sedative was doing its job.

“What are you up to, Joel?” she asked out loud, shaking her head.

Grace stepped away from the table but only made it a step and a half before Joel’s hand closed tightly around her wrist.

Ellie barged into the interrogation room, not bothering to pay any attention to Phil Coulson’s passive aggressive protests against her presence. She leaned forward on the table and looked the nurse in the eye. Neither woman said anything.

After a full minute, Phil rolled his eyes. “Do you plan on asking her questions, or is staring our prisoner down a new tactic I’m not familiar with?”

Ellie continued staring for another thirty seconds, then stood back from the table and took a deep breath. “I don’t have to ask questions, Agent Coulson. Joel lied -- this isn’t about S.H.I.E.L.D. It is about Grace. He’s mad that she left, that she betrayed him. He thinks he’s made a serum to counteract entirely her enhancements, and then some. He isn’t just going to steal her enhancements, he wants to make her a shell of the person she is.”

Phil followed her out of the room, where she was already motioning the other three Avengers in the compound to follow her. “How is he going to get close enough to administer this ‘antiserum’?”

“He’s already close enough,” Ellie replied. “We’re going back to Tony’s.”

“We’ll take the jet,” Natasha piped up.

In unison, they all turned toward the hangar, ready for a fight.

Tags: @captain-s-rogers​​​​ @the-murder-strut-murdered-me​​​​ @xtina2191​​​​ @shynara51​​​​

[writteninsunshine]

The Right Way - SLIGHT Tseng/Reno - SFW

Title: The Right Way Author: Donnie Fandom: Final Fantasy VII Remake Setting: ShinRa Electric Power Company Pairing: Lightly Implied Tseng/Reno Characters: Reno, Tseng, Rude, Elena Genre: Humor/Romance Rating: T Chapters: 1/1 Word Count: 1253 Type of Work: One-Shot Status: Complete Warnings: Very lightly implied Tseng/Reno, Dumb Headcanon Stuff Disclaimer: I don’t own anything. Summary: Reno didn’t have the ability to lie to Tseng’s face about anything, much less something as stupid as this. AN: Hey guys, it’s me again! Just thought I ought to say, if you want vague updates and to talk to me more, I have Twitter and Tumblr, too! Twitter is Sunshinecackle, and Tumblr is Writteninsunshine! I also have a writing Discord that is currently pretty dead. xD I can PM it to people who want it on FFN, for everyone else, it’s here: discord.gg/FyaWw25 Alright, first up, you guys can tell me if you want me to continue this. I know that it’s a one-shot but I might add some more to this if people are interested. At any rate, I’ve been trying to write more and this one finally needed to be finished, so I hopped on it after finishing You Drive Me Crazy. I hope you guys enjoy it!

Final Fantasy VII Fic Masterlist The Right Way ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ “I think I’m gonna hit Wall Market after work, I could use a chance to--” Having been focused on Rude instead of where he was going, Reno crashed into the door leaving the Turks’ bullpen. Turning a venomous glare on the mottled glass, he pushed against it again, only to become more frustrated. “What the Hell, man?”

“Reno,” Rude tried, squaring his shoulders and adjusting his tie; this wasn’t so out of the norm that he didn’t expect what was coming after he spoke, “Try pulling.” “I don’t-- Why would I--” Reno began, obviously incredulous at the mere notion that he’d been doing it wrong. Shoving the door in frustration, he bared his teeth when it simply jerked against the doorjamb. “Rude--” “‘Scuse me!” Elena chirped, slipping between the other two Turks and taking hold of the handle. Tugging the door open, she gave an almost sheepish smile before disappearing down the hall, nearly running towards the elevator to avoid Reno’s inevitable breakdown. Rude sniffed audibly, shifting his weight from his right to his left leg, and clasped his hands in front of him. Expression unreadable, he waited for the explosion that didn’t come. Instead, Reno simply sighed, reaching out to hold onto the handle. “Pull. I swear I fuckin’ know that.” And, now, he felt like the biggest idiot in the room. Rude, however, didn’t skip a beat, clapping Reno on the shoulder and nodding towards the door. The redhead glanced between the silver handle in his death grip, and then his partner, before finally yanking it open and gesturing forward with his free hand, “Well? Don’t keep me waiting, I’m not getting any younger.” Rude nodded curtly, stepping through the door and down the hall a little bit, before turning to watch Reno. The redhead paused, glaring at the door once more, before finally walking through and doing his damnedest to slam it behind him. Taking a few steps forward, he was feeling good, until the door swung open again and a throat could be heard clearing behind him. With wide blue eyes, he bit his lip, turning to catch Tseng's wordless, emotionless scowl. "Is there a particular reason why you slammed the door in my face?" Sucking both of his lips into his mouth, Reno hissed slightly between his teeth and shrugged, lifting his hands and giving stilted gestures before finally dropping them and slumping his shoulders. "I was..." Whatever Reno said after that was obscured by how he mumbled, and Tseng crossed his arms, leaning his weight on one leg and tilted his head just slightly. The disappointed look was enough to turn even Reno's bones to jelly, and he knew there was no escaping it, now. Taking a deep breath, he sighed through his nose, "I was mad at the door." “...Mad at the door.” Tseng repeated, blinking a couple of times in rapid succession before shaking his head just enough to deter the thought from sticking. “You were angry at a door. Why?” Something about those intense amber eyes awakened something in Reno’s chest and he couldn’t quite draw his own away. Instead of just saying what was necessary and moving on, he found his lips loosened by the simple crook of Tseng’s eyebrow. “I pushed it instead of pulling again,” Tseng was ready to question Reno saying ‘again’, but was interrupted, “And I have a pocket full of staples and paper clips from the supply closet.” That floored everyone still waiting for the elevator into silence and Reno shrunk beneath that steady gaze. Despite himself, his heart was pounding and he knew the fear wasn’t the only thing doing it. He offered a sheepish smile, taking a step backward towards Rude, who had turned to join Elena at the elevator. There was barely a second that her rapid-fire pushing of the ‘down’ arrow didn’t sync up with the pounding in his chest. “...Why do you have a pocket full of staples and paper clips from the supply closet?” That was probably a far more interesting story than slamming doors at work, but Tseng wasn’t exactly sure he wanted to know. Knowing Reno, it was simply because it was something he was capable of doing. Those striking eyes leveled on Rude and Elena at the elevator, and he made a mental note to speak with Rude about Reno stealing office supplies later. “I, uh-- I mean, I--” With those eyes off of him and the spell broken, Reno tried to think of a good lie, and all he could come up with was, “They’re useful.” That had a glare cutting back to Reno and the redhead wanted to take a step back but both legs were unresponsive. Where could he even go? Tseng could probably have his house crushed just for sneezing out of the crook of his elbow! “I use them to repair shit at my house.” “I see.” Tseng’s eyebrow rose slightly and he took a deep breath in through his nose. “So you steal from the office in order to keep your own home running?” Something about that didn’t sit right with him, if only because he had been under the impression that the other Turks weren’t in total poverty. The ding of the elevator finally arriving caught Tseng’s attention and he gestured for Reno to go ahead. Turning and taking the fifteen paces to the elevator as though there were an angry guard dog on his tail Reno reached the elevator and put his hand over the door. He didn’t fully enter until Tseng was finally inside, and the man regarded him with a barely noticeable nod. “Reno,” Tseng spoke softly, voice stern, “I want to see you in my office in the morning. We need to discuss your…” He paused for a moment, testing the flavour of each of his options on his tongue before finally settling, “Work-related habits and things we can do to keep the supply closet stocked properly.” “I-- Uh, yes, Sir.” Reno nodded emphatically, settling beside Rude as the elevator fell silent. Elena was the first person off when the doors opened, and she made a beeline for the stairs to the main floor. Tseng hung back, allowing Rude and Reno out ahead of him. The disjointed threesome headed for the door and Tseng only brushed past them to push the main door open for Reno. The redhead ducked his head as he walked through the door, “Thanks, Sir.” “Have a good night, Reno. Rude.” Tseng headed back into the building to walk to the garage with that, leaving Reno standing stock still, staring at the door behind him. “I… I think I’m going to be known as the Door Guy, now,” Reno muttered, pursing his lips as he placed both hands on his hips. “There are worse things to get rumors about, Reno.” Rude replied, leading the way down the street, “You wanna get food?” “Hell yeah! And then I guess I gotta go home and sleep if I’m going to get a lecture first thing in the morning.” “At least it doesn’t sound like you’re going to get fired.” Reno was important enough that stealing office supplies and slamming a door on Tseng wouldn’t be enough to get him discharged. That thought was enough to keep his anxiety at bay until he laid his head on his pillow. Tseng’s words continued to bounce off the empty halls of his skull until he finally fell asleep two hours before his alarm went off. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ AN: Welp, there we go! I’ve actually been getting through some good stuff, hopefully, and I hope you guys like them! Funny but this was originally supposed to be Rude/Reno, and it just turned into Reno’s thirst for his boss. xD

[justheretolook214]

So octrainisms wrote me a small Fic regarding the Friends episode where the group talks about Sex or Food, and I loved it. I asked what they would like in return and this was it. Because I wanted to work on my writing and then, along the way I felt like drawing. I had it scanned and it came out really light. But anyways here it is! 

 @octrainisms  Thank you so much for your work! You're an amazing writer and I hope you like this! 

This is a link to their story

https://bamboozledhound.tumblr.com/post/185141366179/sex-or-food-a-drabble-for-justheretolook214

The wind gushed through Elliot’s hair as he stood at the edge of the jump ship, looking down at the familiar land just below them all. Once he got a feel of the direction the ship was coming in from, he stepped back running his hand through his hair trying to smooth it back into place. Octavio was watching Elliot with great interest as he observed the pro in his element. Octavio was experienced with stunts and stuff, but he knew that Elliot was made for this sport. Before and even after he blew his legs off, Octavio was a huge fan of the games. And who was he a fanboy for? Well none other than Elliot himself.

“Yeah I did my hair for this, nothing wrong with wanting to look good in the ring.” Octavio cracked a smile under his mask. He was caught staring again. “There’s nothing wrong with it Compadre, but next time save it for the ladies.” He placed a hand on his hip as he gave the other a thumbs up. “Then you’ll be golden, just like your years.”

Elliot smiled brightly at the younger, having not heard him quite clearly with the wind, “Padre? What are you trying to say? That sounds really cool! I like it!” The buzzer in the ship buzzed, letting the competitors know that they had 30 seconds until they could begin descending onto the playing field. “If you two are finished, I suggest we land at the Bunker. It offers a high probability for success.” Alex said soul-crushingly over the headsets they wore. Octavio had no quandary’s with Alex being their third, but the dude was kinda edgy. Not to mention the real reason he wanted to go where the foot traffic was.

“Yeah sounds good, you do that. But let me know about anything good. You know what I like!” Elliot smiled brightly as the timer began to beep down.

“I mean if you can keep up, you might be able to take my scraps old man,” With a cock of his head held up his radical sign, waiting for the official call of the horns and Alexander’s call to jump.

“I suppose that makes sense. But you’d do best following Alex, Mr. Rookie. I’m going to find- right there.” Elliot pointed towards the airship as the clock began to tick down. “Just depends on what everyone else gets is all I’m saying. So keep me posted.”

5...

“If you fall, just know that I will not be the one to revive you.”

4...

“Come on Alex, you know I’ll be fine!”

3...

“As you wish, but your death is inevitable.”

2...

Octavio watched Elliot with great interest as he began to ready himself to jump. He totally was amazing!

“Hehe No problem Alex, I’ve got Octavio to get me.” With a wink, Elliot turned away, ready to jump.

1...

The buzzer finally rang, signaling the squads they were allowed to jump to the lands below. Most squads jumped, hoping to get ahold of the legendary loot from the airship. But most, usually the newbies, strayed away once they realized how many people would go there. But not Elliot, as Octavio watched. He had managed to be one of the first ones there and was even more of a badass by kicking off someone who landed near him. Wow. So radical!

Once Alex and him were near The Bunker, they both hopped off. “This is my favorite part! YEAH!!!” Octavio followed Alex to The Bunker, having previous success there with other squads and having failures against Alex himself. There were a couple of other squads who decided to land there. Octavio noticing some people running away once they saw Alex. Whatever, it was his time to shine!

“Whole Squad down, looks like the dropship will land near there. I’ll catch up!”

Octavio had just only just picked up an R-99, Before taking aim at some enemies, urging them back where Alex was setting up his toxic traps.

“What? Best be careful Abuelo, don’t want to pull a muscle!” Octavio laughed as he ducked into one of the rooms as the traps went off, spewing the toxins. He listened as the other squads screamed in agony while he continued to loot the room.

“Come outside I don’t wanna be a part of Alex’s experiment.” Octavio chuckled to himself as he finished looting the room and went outside. There he saw Elliot standing in his glory, all legendary armor, and even a backpack.

“Wow guess luck thought you would need the most help, haha” In reality, Octavio thought it all looked great on Elliot. Gold really was his color. Snapping him from his side though, Octavio stopped as he felt his basic backpack was taken off of his body. “Hey-!”

“It’s all good, besides, it would be best used for you. It helps with faster healing so it should totally help with your passive shouldn’t it?” Elliot stripped off his backpack and took out his items and gave it to Octavio, who was in awe at Elliot. This had been his first time playing this bloodsport with Elliot on his team, since he wanted to hone in on his skills, and he never knew he was such a team player.

“Hey, Gramps! I gotcha a little something! Come on out so I can give it to ya!” Elliot put his stuff into the basic backpack and put it on as he looked to the door, where Alex was standing at the doors, looking rather proud of himself. “Here give me yours.” Elliot took off his legendary helmet and tossed it to Alex, who took off his and walked over to hand it to Elliot.

“Thank you, it is greatly appreciated.”

“It really isn’t a problem, just don’t use your ‘nade on Octavio or me, we have pretty faces.”

“Do not tempt me,” Alex groaned as he placed the helmet on, “I suggest we head to higher grounds, best to have the height advantage.”

As the game carried on, squad after squad was eliminated. They had somehow managed a pretty good peaking point, with Alex having some of the best sniper scopes with Elliot and Octavio bearing close to mid-range weapons for protection should anyone try to sneak up on them. Elliot had long accepted Alex’s tendency to camp a higher area, watching other squads behavior as they killed each other, bad thing about it was that Alex often left his six open even with his traps set. So Elliot often stayed close to Alex, ya know, for protection. However, Octavio never cared for staying still. He certainly had the skills and aim to be a great sniper, but he could not stand still. He needed to vent out his energy. He was bouncing on the spot as the area had been picked clean, there was nothing to do.

“You know, you don’t have to stay here right? You can go and bring other squads here if you want.”

Octavio stopped his bouncing, “You think? I know I am the greatest, but it would be a drag to have you come to save me if, and only IF, I needed help.”

“Oh come on, I wouldn’t mind at all saving you at all! I know I might not be as fast as you, and I do prefer to take things nice ‘n slow. But I would get to you eventually!”

“I am heading out then, see ya on the other side!”

With that, Octavio ran off. He relished in the adrenaline. He was alone, running towards a battle that was occurring not too far from where Elliot and Alex were. It was at the Bridges that he watched about four squads in a fight. But he noticed in one of the paths that looked down over the bridges, there was a team watching and waiting to ambush the remaining team. Upon further inspection, it was Anita, Bloodhound, and Ajay. Octavio smiled with glee, no doubt they would send at least Bloodhound to chase him down. They were always fun to run around.

Octavio took aim from below at Bloodhound and fired directly at their body armor, he would leave the killing to Alex. Of course Anita and Ajay stayed put knowing full well the Veteran Hunter could stomp the Adrenaline Junkie. Bloodhound took aim at Octavio, but he stabbed himself with his stem to run away. Bloodhound still hit his shoulder as he ran out of sight. But Bloodhound was already on the move, fully able to track down the other. As they followed him, they recognized his solo footsteps, easy kill they figured since Octavio often ran off by himself leaving his teammates for dead or otherwise.

As Octavio lead Bloodhound to the buildings just outside the Bunker, since Alex and Elliot were on top of the hill in the buildings. Octavio could hear Bloodhound running after him, he could hear their footsteps as well as their heavy breathing. They were close, so instead of taking another shot to the back, Octavio used his stim to rush into one of the buildings. “Hey Alex, I’ve brought Bloodhound for you. A thank you is expected.”

“Bloodhound? What did you do to piss them off?”

“It doesn’t matter, I’ve placed my traps in the buildings down there. Feel free to lead Bloodhound through them.”

“Aye Aye Compadre!” Just then, Octavio heard the door open with a whish, then pop and another whish of Alex’s toxic gas.

Octavio simply chuckled as he made sure to steer clear of the gas as he lead Bloodhound around. Several different times, while coughing, they had scanned the building only seeing Octavios silhouette inside. But it didn’t take them long to stay clear of the homes opting to cough out the toxic gas. Octavio stood by the windowing waving at the other.

“How long are you going to make Bloodhound suffer amigo? This is painful to watch.”

Alex didn’t respond verbally, only with a single shot to Bloodhounds head, knocking them down to the ground. Bloodhound stayed down coughing into their hand and pulling up their shield. “I’ve been downed.” They spoke into their communicator. Octavio knew that Anita and Ajay would come by soon, still hearing the gunfire from the Bridges. “You didn’t even look like you were having fun amigo, but I’m bored now. Maybe next time.” He could feel Bloodhound cold glare as he grabbed his grenade and pulled the pin. As he dropped the grenade he covered his ears and laughed in excitement as he was blown onto his back. “Yeah!”

“Anita and Ajay are coming, I'm heading down to a-asscis… to help out.”

Octavio looked towards the hill where he saw Ajay already aiming at him. Instead of running, he held up a peace sign as she took a shot. He stabbed himself with stim and ran into towards the two women. “No no Amigo I think I am fine, it’s just Anita and Ajay.” Just to be flashy, and because he had it ready, Octavio threw down his jump pad. He jumped onto the roof of one of the buildings and took aim at Anita, making sure to keep moving to knock off Ajay’s aim.

Octavio was skilled at aiming for vital areas in the body, but it was difficult to keep that aim when the target was moving. It was worse when Anita shot a smoke cloud his way. He groaned as he jumped from the roof and made sure to keep an eye out for Anita or Ajay. He heard footsteps approaching him from behind, he held up his weapon ready to fire. When he turned around, he realized it was Elliots Decoy running through the smoke since it glowed blue. As he began stalking the direction it was running from, it shattered before his eyes revealing one of the girls. He aimed and rushed forward to find Ajay aiming at him, point blank with a Peacekeeper with Precision. ‘Nice Ajay’, without a second thought, he pulled his trigger, seeing her armor break crack and crumble on her body. The same happened with his armor, but it only took one shot compared to his full magazine. Octavio quickly switched his gun out from the G-7 Scout to an R-99 then stabbed himself with his stim to avoid her next shot. He felt some of the shot dig into his side. He let out a groan and aimed at Ajay again, firing with his automatic. He could tell she was close to falling, just like Bloodhound, but she proved just how amazing she was. He felt himself falling to the ground, still surrounded by smoke. ’Shit’

Ajay reloaded her Peacekeeper, knowing full well Elliot was still around. Just as the smoke was clearing, Octavio looked around to see Anita down not too far from him. She was trying to shout out to Ajay, but an arc star quickly made her silent. Ajay looked to the building and began firing her weapon, assumably at Elliot. Octavio smiled as he turned over onto his back watching as Elliot used his Devotion to finish Ajay off. Still sprawled on his back, Octavio laughed as Elliot walked over. “My knight in shining amor~”

“Hehe don’t worry princess, I’ve gotcha.” Pulling a syringe full of an unknown liquid from one of his bags, Elliot laid a hand against Octavio's chest. He held Octavio still as he stabbed the needle into his chest. Of course, Octavio jumped at the sudden pain since this needle was far longer and thicker than the one he used for stim, but it was necessary. As Elliot helped Octavio up, another shot could be heard along with a scream. The two looked over to see a death box.

“You are the Apex Champions.”

“I must confess, you two are extremely mundane to observe.” Octavio cheered as he gave Alex a thumbs up. Elliot cheered alongside Octavio as a ship dropped over the two, a zip-line shot down several feet from the two.

“After you Compadre.”

“Oh! You had said Compadre! oh, hehe, I liked Padre way better.” Elliot winked at Octavio before he grappled onto the zip-line allowing it to zip him forward. Octavio felt his face grow hot as he huffed on the ground. ‘What a pervert you are Elliot.” After his moment of utter embarrassment, he smirked grabbing his bit to follow Elliots lead.

As the three rode the ship back to their headquarters, Alex was sitting near the back, writing in his little notebook he always kept with him. Elliot was staring at Octavio as he stood close by tapping his foot and pacing, ready to be home and doing something else. Anything really. He turned his head, catching Elliot staring at him. 3

“What is it, Amigo?”

“Nothing much. Just admiring the view.” Elliot began kicking his legs like a kid sitting on a chair., he raised an eyebrow, “That ok?”

Octavio stopped in his tracks, “Oh? Is that right Amigo?” He began walking towards Elliot with a small skip in his step, like a school girl, he leaned forward, “Can’t say I am too pleased with that. Why look when you can act, such a shame Amigo. I pegged you for something more in-“

With one quick swoop Elliot, held an arm under Octavios arms as he knocked Octavios legs with his arm. Clearly afraid, Octavio grabbed onto Elliot, wrapping his arms around Elliot's shoulders. “I may not have my way with words, but it seems that I have s-swoop? Swept?. I've swept you off of your feet.”

Octavio made no move to remove his arms, and in fact, he made himself more comfortable. “Ohh I like a man who takes the first step, Chico.“

“Oh no no, I think I really do prefer Padre, and FYI, I do know what it means,” A flew of coughs interrupted Elliot, the two looked to the back of the aircraft where Alex was writing in his notebook. He simply looked up and glared at the two for a moment.

“Sorry were we distracting you Muerto? I don’t think we can turn it down, glare at us as you will haha,” Octavio kicked his legs as the three of them felt the ship slow to a halt.

“Congratulations Champions.”

The back door opened and Alex stood up first and took quick steps to jump from the ship. He didn’t say a word as he stepped off, no doubt landing with composed grace. Elliot chuckled as he stood with Octavio in his arms, but soon after he lowered Octavio to his feet. 
“Don’t want to carry me, Amigo? I am very sore in the legs.” Octavio chuckled as he turned and began making his way to the edge of the ship. But a hand round his wrist caught him and turned him around.

“I mean, that was too easy Tavi. That isn’t the live life in the fast lane Tavi I know. Give me more of a challenge,” Elliot leaned down slightly to look Octavio in the eyes, “Can ya do that?” 
Octavio smirked as he reached up and took off his goggles and respirator. Letting his green tufts of hair fall over his face, he placed his other hand onto Elliot's chest. “Come on Compadre,” he pushed Elliot back a bit, “The fans are waiting.” He didn’t give Elliot a chance to respond as he stepped off of the edge of the ship, falling to the ground where his adoring fans waited, cheering. They cheered louder when he landed, all offering their words of encouragement and praise. After all, that was an amazing round. He, of course, thanked all the fans he could, shaking their hands and signing their posters. He even played dumb when asked about his mask. “Just thought I could see your pretty faces, face to face Mi Amores, hehe and I like what I see!” He held up his usual radical sign and hurried forward to the end of the crowds that lead to Apex Central. Behind him, he heard the screams of excitement from Elliot landing and activating his holograms. They covered more ground and even kept fans from getting jealous they couldn’t meet the real Elliot. Since no one could really tell the difference. Octavio heard two pairs of footsteps approaching from behind him, he turned around only to see the real Elliot and a decoy approaching to stand on either side of Octavio. “What-“

Each of the Elliot’s taking one of Octavio’s arms, pulling him to their torsos and each giving a small pack on Octavio’s cheek. “Give me a good chase Tavi,” Elliot whispered into Octavio’s ear, “on you go now,” Octavio smirked and shook his hand, shooing away Elliot’s decoy. “Catch me if you can Padre.” With that, he pulled away from Elliot and began to run toward the center. He wasn’t sure where he would lead Elliot, but surely he wouldn’t regret it.

[monkees-on-the-line]

Turtle Doves

Summary: This is a one shot introducing the fic: 'Colgem's Supply Co.' (Modern AU, Set in  2007) This is a Christmas memory from Micky & Mike's childhood, they are both 15 years old. It follows them as they go to the school Christmas dance and celebrate Christmas with their own special traditions.

Words: 5,588 

Ship: Dolenzmith 

@take-a-giant-step and I have finally written out the first introductory one shot to our upcoming fic, Colgem’s Supply Co.! I hope you enjoy! 

Mike shut his front door behind him as he stepped outside, glancing down at his shoes as they walked down his broken concrete steps. He hopped down the last stair, the one with the chip that was just waiting to become an avalanche of rock. He pulled aimlessly at his jacket when he felt the sudden jolt of the wind being knocked out of him and legs wrapping around his waist. He didn't need to look to know who it was.

"Mick, you can't just jump on a guys back without warning." Mike tried to glance up, as best he could as Micky shifted around and looped his arms around his neck.

"As the shorter friend, I reserve the right to get piggy back rides whenever I want." He heard Micky giggle against his ear, his feet wiggling.

"Micky, You're like an inch shorter."

"Your point?" Micky hummed and Mike hiked Micky up a little. "So...you're walking to my house, what for?" Micky smiled and Mike rolled his eyes fondly. He was always welcome in the Dolenz household, considering he was there almost as often as Micky.

"To bother you...which by the way, where were you coming from?" Mike glanced his eyes up. Usually whenever Micky left his home, Mike was with him so he was more than curious.

"The library. Mom told me I needed to study where I could annoy other people." Micky hopped off Mike's back as he stopped and drummed his fingers repeatedly against the strap of his bag, as if to illustrate his mothers point. "So I hope you're grateful. I got our brains ready for that science test." Micky thumped his finger against his forehead.

Mike grinned, taking Micky's chin in his hand. "My dork in shining armor."

Micky playfully shoved his hand down, keeping a grip on Mike's sleeve as they started walking again. "Speaking of school..." Micky started and faded off, looking to his left at Mike who had started to whistle quietly to himself. "Do you wanna go to that Christmas dance?"

Mike stopped whistling, looking to Micky with indifference. "Do you?" He ask dumbly. Micky shrugged and swayed their arms. He traced his eyes over the thousands of dead string lights strung through the railings of their neighbors houses. He nodded, mostly to himself as he turned back to Mike.

"Yeah. And I think it'd be really fun, y'know? We've never gone to a high school dance. I'm sort of looking forward to the crappy food and cheesy decorations." Micky teased, a large grin on his face that made Mike melt.

"Yeah, I guess It would be sort of fun." He shrugged, not sure what else to say as Micky seemed genuinely pleased with that short answer.

"Plus-!" Micky interrupted himself, twirling his finger around gleefully with a glint in his eyes. "I've never actually rocked around the Christmas tree before." Micky wiggled his eyebrows with a smirk and Mike rolled his eyes.

"That was terrible Mick." Mike trailed after the boy as he happily strolled over to his porch, sending a smile back at Mike before hopping up the steps. He flung the door open for Mike to catch once he caught up.

Mike followed Micky inside, taking his shoes off at the door and setting them next to the others as Micky breezed past it, forgetting like usual. Mike grinned to himself, shaking his head. The home was nothing special, sort of small but fleshed out. Photos on the wall in frames that were carefully thought out as they were purchased at some home goods store. It still put a smile on Mike's face to see that he was featured in some of those pictures.

He briefly passed by his favorite that was in the blue frame, the one that was chipped in the corner from when Micky dropped it. It was taken sometime during last Christmas, Micky and himself were having some sort of conversation that must've been highly amusing, what is was about Mike doesn't remember, but they're laughing hard enough that Micky is falling forward onto his shoulder, Micky's parents actually looking at the camera with grins. Mike smiled to himself as he glanced at it.

Mrs. Dolenz was pouring a few drinks as they entered the kitchen, a warm grin on her face.

"Hello boys." She smiled sweetly and handed them each a glass of water as she slid a cup of coffee to Mr. Dolenz as he came in the room with a smile.

"How's my favorite son?" He asked in that dad tone of voice that Mike had only come accustomed to through him.

Micky swallowed a large slurp of the water and set it back on the table, the sweat dripping onto his hand. "I'm your only son..." He tilted his head with a confused but amused expression.

Mr. Dolenz blew down into the mug, the steam rising and spreading. "I was talking to Mike." He looked up just in time to catch Micky's gasp of offense. He chuckled, picking up his mug and patting Mike on the back as he passed him. "Which reminds me Mike, I'm working on the garage again tomorrow, can I count on your help-?"

"While I am flattered that you complimented me to butter me up before you asked but-" Mike smiled, hand over his chest. "I can't."

"Yeah! We're gonna go to the Christmas dance tomorrow!" Micky interrupted, grin wide and shining. Mike looked back at him with a look of amusement. Mrs. Dolenz however, put her hands on her hips and looked at her son with a mixture of excitement and disappointment, a look Mike knew Micky got often.

"Micky, why would you wait til' the last minute to say something?" She crossed her arms and Micky shrugged.

"Well, I didn't actually pitch the idea to Mike until today, I didn't know if he'd want to go!" Micky threw his hands up in mock surrender as he defended himself. Mike turned to give him a curious look. "What? You got that whole 'I might not like dances look' to you!" Micky shrugged.

Mike shrugged back and gave him a lopsided grin. "Micky, I'm not even sure you own nice clothes!" Mrs. Dolenz shook her head, lips pursed as she came to stand next to Micky's stool. Mike chuckled to himself as he watched. Sipping innocently at his water while shooting smirks to Micky who was laughing nervously under his mothers gaze.

"I'm sure I do!" He smiled and she sighed, patting his shoulder, going past him to most likely search the home for something nice he could wear. Mr. Dolenz laughed, head cocked back as he followed his wife.

Micky watched them go. "Look what you did, Mick." Mike held back a laugh.

Micky turned, raising his shoulder to cover his 'innocent' grin as he tilted his head to the side. "I haven't done anything. "

Mike shook his head and went for his water again, taking a few sips.

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Mrs. Dolenz, Janelle, rooted her hands through the sock draw and occasionally pulled out a few pairs and folded them together. Her nails caught on the thread every few minutes, she'd pull and pull until the thin string would just snap. But on the eighth time she grew a little bit restless and snapped the string but quickly shut the drawer afterwards. "George?"

She turned to her husband, who was still lazing around with his coffee and blowing on it as if it was still hot. She gave him a small smile and walked towards him, putting her hand on his back. He looked up at her, waiting for her to speak what was on her mind. "Do you think-" She paused for a second before shaking her head. "Never mind, it's stupid."

George smiled up at his wife and chuckled, swallowing his first tedious sip of coffee. "I say a lot of stupid things, I won't mind."

Janelle gave him a look a lot of wives give their husbands. One of amusement and familiarity . "Well, I was just wondering..." She began again, going back over to the drawers to root around for something Micky could wear. "Do you think the boys have something to tell us?" She asked, a little unsure of herself.

George cocked his head to the side and looked lost. "Like what?" He asked, swirling his coffee in his hand. Janelle sighed and leaned back on the drawers behind her. Clasping her hands together, she spoke again.

"Well, they're going to the dance together...." She trailed off, waiting to see the glaze of realization in her husbands eyes but George just smiled.

"Yeah, that's great. Isn't it? I'm glad they're going to one of those school dances...you know I never went to one and I regret it entirely-"

"George!" She put her hands on her hips and the corner of her mouth raised into a small grin that she tried to stop from fully forming as she chuckled. "I mean, do you think the boys are...."

George still had that clueless smile on his face so Janelle tried to specify with her look what she had actually meant. "....together?" she finished. George seemed to finally understand and made a small 'O' with his mouth. He ran his fingers under his chin and nodded.

"Haven't they been for a while?" George asked and Janelle gave him a curious raise of her eyebrow as she smiled back at him. "I think they are. I've thought so for a while now." He smiled at his wife, the tone of his voice was warm. "But I'm not sure they are ready to say anything....so we just need to be supportive of Micky and let him figure himself out." He patted her thigh as she sat down on the edge of the bed next to him.

"You think the boys know they can talk to us?" She asked, playing with the pair of socks she had in her hands and George nodded again.

"I'm sure they do....and they will tell us when they're ready." He said softly before looking up and around the room once again. "Now, we have to see if we can find something nice for our oddball son to wear." He stood up, putting his coffee on the old dried up water ring mark on the dresser. Janelle smiled at the back of his head, her hand on her heart as she sighed with pleasure before she stood to join him on the tough mission.

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

The next night, Bette Nesmith was walking around her small home with a black tie strung around her hands as she pre-tied it. Mike watched her curiously from his perch on the kitchen stool. It was sort of odd seeing her stroll around the house, as she was almost always out at work. But tonight, she had some free time to which she was very grateful for. She came over to her son with a grin and slide the tie over his head, fixing it in place before tightening it. She dusted off his shoulders once she finished and took a step back.

The old radio they had sat almost on the edge of the table by their front door. His mother went over and flicked it to some Christmas station. Bette shook her hands, her bracelet rattled as she looked to her son with a grin. "Come here." She smiled.

Mike looked suspicious but hopped off the chair and stood in front of his mother anyway. She held out her hand. "I may miss out on a lot....but I've got the chance to teach you to dance properly now so."

Mike frowned and looked down at her hand. "Ma.....you don't have to do this." He dragged his eyes back up to his mothers as she scoffed, not taking no for an answer.

"What kind of mother would I be if I didn't teach my boy how to dance?" She grinned as Mike deepened his frown but took her hand anyway.

"One I would really be grateful for." Mike teased and Bette gently rocked her son as she chuckled.

"You'll never get yourself a nice girl if I don't teach you this, Michael." Bette tried to guide her reluctant son. Mike looked to the side, staring out their window rather than paying attention. Something about the last comment made him uncomfortable. He really wanted to pull back and forget the dancing thing. But his mother seemed pretty keen on it. "Try not to step on the young lady's toes, Michael." She chuckled and pulled her foot out from under Mike's.

Mike chuckled a bit but quickly shot his foot back, socks sunk deep into the carpet. "Sorry." He said sheepishly. Bette only grinned and gestured for her son to spin her. Mike sighed but did so anyway, not being able to stop his grin.

"Alright, put your shoes on and get on next door." She let go of his hand and pointed to his shoes that she'd set out for him. Mike strolled over and shoved his feet in, he felt a little bit more excited than he thought he would. He stood firm in his shoes before throwing a smile to his mother before leaving.

He took the stairs two at a time and walked the very short distance to the Dolenz household. He breathed out and knocked on their door, pulling awkwardly on his sleeves. George opened the door with an impressed grin. "Michael, you clean up nicely."

Mike shook his head with a little embarrassment. "But I'm afraid that tie is no good."

Mike snapped his head up and opened his mouth only to have Mr. Dolenz pull him inside and take him over to one of the rooms. He strolled over to a dresser and dug around while Mike nervously shifted from heel to toe. "Aha!" He shouted before coming back and showing off the new tie. It was easily the cheesiest Christmas tie Mike had ever seen and he really shouldn't have been so surprised, knowing Mr. Dolenz. The snow scene was picture perfect. "You have to be in the spirit!" George grinned and Mike chuckled, removing his tie and allowing him to tie the new one for him. He dusted his shoulders off and stood back with a grin. "There."

"This is great Mr. Dolenz. Thank you." He chuckled as they went back down the hall to the living room. Micky was being fussed over by Janelle, as she gave him one more once over. But as the others entered, Micky bounded over.

The boys took in each others appearances and both chuckled. "I ain't never seen you dress so nice in my life." Mike looked down and found an equally cheesy tie to be tied around Micky. "Oh, so your dad got to you too, huh?" He pointed to it with a teasing grin.

"Huh?" Micky raised his brow but then followed the point, picking up his tie and inspecting it. "No I picked this out."

Mike burst into a small fit of laughter. "Of course you did. I love this family." Mike quieted himself to a few giggles. Micky gave him an odd look before following after him as his dad picked up his keys to drop the kids off.

"Hold it. You're not getting out of this so easily!" Mrs. Dolenz shook her hands and Micky sighed, crossing his arms. She pulled her camera out from behind her and smiled. Micky cringed and Mike didn't look too eager either. But that didn't stop Janelle from positioning the boys. Micky squirmed. "Come on Micky, aren't you gonna want to have something so you can look back on this day?" She put her hands on her hips.

"Mike has a good memory, he'll remember for the both of us. " Micky shrugged and Mike chuckled. Janelle felt herself grin widely at that comment, Micky really believed that he and Mike would be together far into the future.

As she was thinking that over, Mike was trying to get the situation over with by keeping Micky still, which was nearly impossible. He ended up with one hand on Micky's hip to keep him from wandering off and one hand caressing Micky's chin so he wouldn't whip his head around to avoid looking Mike in the eye.

Janelle looked up with just enough time to capture the moment, she stood up straight. "Ok boys, you can go now."

Both boys looked a little confused as to what she took a picture of, they hadn't been posed in any special way. But Micky was just relieved to go, so he darted away.

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

As the boys walked towards the gym doors from the parking lot, Mr. Dolenz watched with a small smile growing on his face. When Mike pulled the door open and gestured for Micky to go in, he figured it was as good a time as any, so he honked the horn. Both kids jumped nearly a foot in the air. Micky turned around to glare at his dad. "Have fun!" George waved as he continued to laugh. Mike chuckled and waved back, Micky shook his head and grabbed Mike's arm to pull it down and darted inside.

When the door shut, the Christmas music became muffled. George sat still for a few moments before moving to start pulling out of the car lot. But just as he moved, his phone rang. He sighed, a small smile on his face as he flipped it open. "Janelle, honey- Yes, they just went inside...yeah, I think their gonna have a great time." He looked back over his shoulder back towards the door and smiled widely.

When they walked inside, reflections of the green and red glow immediately brightened their eyes. "Wow, the gym looks...." Micky trailed off.

"Like the gym covered in string lights." Mike finished and Micky nodded, a grin on his face. He still had Mike's wrist in his grip so he used that to his advantage as he pulled him over to the food table. "Ahhh, the real reason you wanted to come." Mike leaned back on the bleachers behind them.

"It's free food, Mike." Micky gestured over the table and tilted his head to the side. "But that is not the only reason we're here." He pointed at Mike with mock disappointment, which was less convincing as he was munching on the chips and dip. Mike cocked his head to the side and raised his eyebrow. "Will there ever be a more perfect place for me to let out my rowdy teenage energy?" Micky waved his arms around.

"I suppose not, but that doesn't stop you from being hyper everywhere else too." Mike shrugged.

"You love it." Micky smiled, a little bashfully, and shrugged his shoulders. Mike responded with a small smile, more so directed at the now interesting gym floor than at Micky. So Micky stuck his hand into Mike's view. Mike glanced up at him.

"I ain't dancing..." Mike shook his head as Micky nodded his with eagerness and speed.

"Yes. Yes you are. What did you think was gonna happen when I asked you to come?" Micky asked smugly as Mike looked off with mock thought.

"I dunno, maybe- Woah, Mick! Slow down!" Mike interrupted himself as his excited friend pulled his arm and darted over to the middle of the gym.

Most of their dancing was really just Micky dancing around a still Mike and occasionally using his arm to turn under. Just watching Micky seemed tiring to Mike but he liked watching his friend dance himself to death, smiling the whole time.

When 'Wonderful Christmastime' ended and Micky finished spinning himself under Mike's arm for the thirtieth time, Mike suggested they take a break. Micky simply nodded and sort of fell into Mike's side, exaggerating his tiredness. Mike allowed it and smiled as he got them over to one of the tables on the side of the gym.

He poured a drink, handing it over to Micky who was licking his lips in anticipation.

Just as he was sipping at it, the song faded from a fast tune to a slow Christmas classic. Mike smiled a little to himself as Micky sighed from his left. He chuckled.

"Of course you like this song. You like all the boring songs." Micky poked Mike's arm and teased him. Mike shook his head and set his cup down on the table.

"This ain't boring, Mick."

"You can't dance to it, where's the fun in that?" Micky countered with a shrug and Mike felt a smirk grow on his face.

"This is the best kind of song to dance to." He looked back out at the crowd and back to Micky, who's face was glowing from all the cheap colored light bulbs the school had bought. Micky didn't look convinced and Mike slowly reached out and took his hand. "C'mon, I'll show ya."

Micky giggled. "You're very gentlemanly today."

"Nah, I just want to prove you wrong." Mike looked back as he pulled them to the side of the dance floor and stood firm in place. Micky looked completely lost, which he expected. Micky had never slow danced in his entire life, the guy did everything at the speed of light it seemed. Mike chuckled to himself as he positioned Micky. He almost thought he saw Micky's cheeks turn pink. But it was likely that it was just the florescent lighting playing tricks on him.

"Ok, Mick just don't step on my feet and you should be fine." Mike started to sway them a bit and Micky looked down at their feet. Mike actually was thankful for his mothers dance lessons after all. He took his hand off of Micky's hip for a second and lifted the boys chin for him. "You gotta look up too." He said softly and they just smiled at each other for a few seconds.

'Chestnuts roasting on an open fire, Jack Frost nipping at your nose ...'

Micky's nose twitched almost as if taking cue from the song and Mike thought it had to be the most adorable thing he'd ever seen. Subconsciously, he pulled Micky a little bit closer.

'They know that Santa's on his way. He's loaded lots of toys and goodies on his sleigh. And every mother's child is going to spy to see if reindeer's really know how to fly....'

Mike wouldn't have thought he'd be putting the brief dance lesson to use, and he supposed his mom wasn't thinking he'd be using it to dance with his best friend rather than some girl. But this was much better than any girl, Mike thought.

"For someone who didn't want to dance, you're doing pretty great." Micky gave him a mischievous smile and Mike shook his head, looking off to the side of the gym. "I didn't even know you could dance..." Micky started to just talk though he wasn't sure Mike was even listening, like he usually did. "Unless..."

Mike decided to spin Micky, thinking it might distract him enough to keep him from rambling. But Micky just chuckled and went right back into it. "You learned just for tonight." He concluded, steadying himself back into his previous position. "Which....well Mike I am very flattered." He giggled.

"Maybe I was planning on dancing with someone else." Mike raised his brow and Micky snorted in disbelief. "Thanks, Mick."

Micky quieted his giggling and tightened his arms around Mike's shoulders. "It's not that I don't think you could-I mean look at you." Micky looked Mike up and down, which made him slightly uncomfortable, so he tipped the boys chin back up again. "It's just that you wouldn't.....cause I'm your boy." Micky giggled again as he spoke in some voice that he couldn't really identify. And Mike looked up at the ceiling to better hold in his urge to let out an 'Awww' at that.

Micky seemed proud of himself and tugged Mike a bit closer again. "Don't worry, we'll be back safely in your comfort zone on Christmas when we watch the Home Alone movies." He smiled and Mike chuckled from a few inches above him.

"It's a good way to spend Christmas!" Mike defended and Micky hummed.

"It's my favorite way." He smiled and they continued to sway to the music.

'And so I'm offering this simple phrase, To kids from one to ninety-two. Although it's been said many times, many ways, Merry Christmas to you...'

When the song faded back into a quicker song, Mike couldn't help but feel a little bummed. And when he caught the slight frown on Micky's face, he smirked. "So you like slow songs now?" He poked him and Micky shook his head while he chuckled.

"It's not the song I like, but the slow dancing Texan....that was amusing" Micky started, waving his finger and Mike jokingly slapped the back of his head.

They were able to squeeze in one more slow song that night before it was time to go.

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

On the morning of Christmas Day, Mike once again walked the short distance from his house to the Dolenz household. His mother was at work but was kind enough to make him a cup of coffee before she left and wish him a 'Merry Christmas'. She left him his gift and was out the door with a frown on her face.

When she left, Mike felt a little bummed even though he knew that was how it was going to go. She was a hard worker and she wanted to provide for them. But it still sucked that she couldn't stay for Christmas.

As he took the steps up to the home, the small box in his hand rattled a bit. He looked down at it and smiled. Every year, he and Micky exchanged ornaments. It was his favorite tradition. He reached out and knocked on the door, which was immediately thrown open. Mike had to take a step back because Micky nearly just hopped out as he leaned against the doorway....in a Christmas sweater. Mike crinkled his nose.

"Mick, it's not even that cold....aren't you hot?" Mike went to reach out and touch the fabric but Micky smugly slapped his hand away.

"Yes, but I don't see what that has to do with anything." He smirked and Mike rolled his eyes, still waiting for his real answer. "One has to get in the spirit, Michael." He shrugged and pulled Mike inside. He was then dragged across the static carpet, after he took off his shoes of course.

He was brought into the kitchen, so he set the gift on the counter. The shimmery red paper caught the overhead lamp and glittered specks of light on Micky's cheeks, who was observing it with a grin. Mike opened his mouth to make some comment but Mrs. Dolenz beat him to it.

She rounded the counter and set down an empty tray, she uncurled her fingers from the handle and gripped her sons chin. "You can open it after you get your gift for Mike." She smiled and let go. Micky pouted for a few seconds before hopping off and taking off into the other room.

Mike chuckled warmly as Janelle ruffled his hair. "Merry Christmas, Michael." She smiled and went about making coffee. Mike fixed his hair with that special smile he had when he was at Micky's house.

"Miiiiiikkkee?" Micky's voice came from the living room and Janelle leaned back on the counter with a sigh as she tapped her nails against the mug of coffee in her hands. She gestured out with her free arm.

"Better go see what he wants." She grinned and Mike hopped off his chair, swiped his gift and strolled his way into the living room. Micky was sat on the floor, the pine tree poking a little on his arm but he didn't seem to mind. He had a shiny silver wrapped box on his lap and a charming smirk on his face.

Mike took the hint and sat across from him, settling onto the carpet with his own present sitting next to him. He rubbed his hands down his jeans and then picked up the box , holding it out to Micky, who he knew would want to go first. But surprisingly, Micky thrust his box into Mike's hands and waited.

Mike raised his brow but Micky just urged him to go on. So he slowly undid the bow just to irritate his practically giddy friend. Micky threw his head back and sighed. Mike chuckled and picked up the pace. He finally got off the last of the paper and set it aside and opened the box.

He cradled his hands under the ornament while the thin gold string hung off from the top. In his hands was a smooth white dove. He looked up, ready to say something but Micky beat him to it as he so often did.

"It's the dove from Home Alone two. Remember? I don't know why I'm asking, of course you do. We watch those movies every year...but that cool toy guy gave them to Kevin." Micky explained, rubbing his nose so his hand covered his smile. "They symbolize friendship...and you're suppose to give one to someone and..." Micky reached behind him and pulled an identical ornament down from a branch out of Mike's view. "Keep one."

Micky held his out proudly and Mike reached out to drag his fingers over the wings. He was flooded with warmth and he let out an emotional sigh. "Mick, I don't know what to say..."

Micky was practically beaming. "I think 'thank you' would be a good start."

Mike set the ornament carefully to the side and wrapped his arms around Micky. "Thank you." He mumbled, a little embarrassed but Micky was thrilled.

"You're welcome, babe." He enjoyed the embrace until Mike pulled away and shuffled back into his spot. "Ok! My turn!" Micky snatched his gift and Mike cringed.

"You know Mick, mine's not gonna look that great after this..."Mike gestured to his dove but Micky just waved his hand and unwrapped it anyway.

"Mike I love everything you get me-" Micky cut himself off with laughter as he fell back on his carpet, clapping his hands together and Mike looked down with embarrassment. Micky finally pulled himself back up and raised the ornament out of the box.

Hanging from a thin gold string strung around Micky's hand was quite the character, a cat with a red coat wearing black boats. It was honestly, ridiculous looking. Mike frowned but Micky finally stopped giggling and smiled down at it. "Oh my God, Mike I love this." He chuckled again.

"It's stupid." Mike scowled and reached over but Micky slapped his hand.

"Not it isn't. Don't insult him." Micky twirled it lightly from his finger. Mike cocked his head to the side and let out a reluctant smile.

"The one year I decide to get you something as ridiculous as what you usually get me and..." Mike turned to the Dove once more and felt that tug in his chest again. Micky crawled a bit closer, putting his ornament aside.

"It's not a competition, Mike. Besides..." Micky turned back to look at the ornament that was now laying in the tissue paper. "I love it, you know me so well." Micky chuckled right beside Mike's ear. He felt his face heat up almost immediately. He bit into his cheek and turned slightly, to face Micky. He opened his mouth to say something but Micky was quicker to voice his own thought.

"Let's start the Home Alone movies!" He hopped up and offered his hand to Mike, who smiled and grabbed it, tugging himself up.

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

The two boys ended up on Micky's couch with a blanket tossed over them, only one so of course they had to squish together or else one of them would be too cold. Janelle and George would come in and out, offering drinks or staying to watch a few scenes. But for the most part, they let the boys have their little tradition to themselves.

Mike had somehow found himself with Micky's head resting on his shoulder by the second movie. Not that he minded it at all. Micky had a candy cane hanging out of the side of his mouth that he occasionally twirled around. Mike found himself watching him every few minutes rather than the movie.

Some way into 'Home Alone 2', Mike rested his cheek on Micky's head and they both sighed with contentment. It was when Kevin entered Duncan's Toy Chest that he and Micky both became a little more interested.

'-Well, to show our appreciation for your generosity...I'll let you select an object from that tree...to take home with you.' Mr. Duncan pointed to the tree onscreen and Kevin looked with wonderment, asking a question.

'May I make a suggestion?' 'Take the turtledoves.' The man smiled at Kevin again. Mike swore he could feel Micky's grin radiating off of him.

'Well, two turtledoves. And I tell you what you do. You keep one...and give the other one to a very special person.' Micky lifted his head slightly to catch Mike's eyes.

'You see, turtledoves...are a symbol of friendship and love.'

Mike and Micky just sat there, cuddled together and smiling at each other. Both of them were stirring with emotions and having the best Christmas yet.