#midterms hit me like a truck but the end is in sight

[catoinette]

late for spooky season BUT BETTER THAN NEVER!! have a draculaura

[moon-lixie]

Yes, he had been aware that it was the literal end of the world, but to hear that he only had so little time left made everything appear clearer in front of his now blurry sight.

word count: 3.699k

warnings: mentions of riots and guns.

genre: apocalyptic AU, slight enemies to lovers, fluff.

song: moya- Godspeed You! Black Emperor

The sound of the tv in the background didn’t allow Seungmin to concentrate on the only thing that seemed to matter to him at that moment, you.

What met his wide eyes was the familiar cream white walls that he could only associate with his home, because that’s exactly where he was, in his childhood house while you were away, not awfully so but still not close enough for him to reach out to you in the way he wanted.

If he had learnt something from this situation it was that he didn’t have many instances he would like to go back and fix, and that he had always seen you in the wrong way. Either because he liked living in denial or because —without noticing— he had become the most dense person to have ever existed.

And it was infuriating that he had only noticed now, having had plenty of time before he had only come to the realisation because of the end of—

The volume of the tv became louder and he had to bite back his urge to belligerently ask his parents to turn it down when he heard what was being said on the news.

‘Specialists have estimated that we have only 48 hours left before it becomes impossible to leave our houses due to the radiation. People have apparently taken this ultimatum just as predicted by many as unprecedentedly violent riots have started breaking out all across the globe,’ the woman on the news channel said, wearing a cool expression that he wished he could also keep in a situation like this.

On the screen various photos and videos of chaos flashed in an instance, flooding the small living room with an orange glimmer that came from the flames he saw as mere pixels.

Seungmin’s blood ran completely cold; yes, he had been aware that it was the literal end of the world, but to hear that he only had so little time left made everything appear clearer in front of his now blurry sight.

The first tear travelled down his left cheek and impacted against the wooden floor right when the barking of what sounded like all the dogs of the neighbourhood started resonating with force and alarm.

Hell was breaking loose not only all across the world but in his chest too, he felt too many and yet so little at the same time. His body began moving on an impulse as he took long strides towards the white entrance door. Feeling excessively heavy he let his weight fall to the ground as he sat and put his shoes on, taking special care of making a double knot on the shoelaces of the black converse he had been wearing the night before when he arrived.

It was hard but he still managed to stand up and open the door hastily; ignoring the questioning voice of his mother he began sprinting towards the sidewalk where some of the people he had grown up seeing greet him with vibrant smiles now wearing cold expressions and getting inside their cars with a definite goal in mind.

He couldn’t care less about getting his hands on material objects; just as before, he felt pleased with his life and the things he had, that sentiment wouldn't change just because his life was close to reaching its end.

The night before he had fallen asleep in his parent's room as they had all cried their eyes out and confessed the love they were already aware of. But now he needed to make one last confession, and that’s why he had to reach your side before it was too late. That’s the only reason why he ran.

The pavement punched his soles as his steps increased its pace, every step resonated against every centimetre of his body as he tried to move faster. His heart was beating on his throat and he knew it wasn’t because he was exhausted, he had just begun running after all, it had all to do with the words he had never wanted to say until today.

Desperately he wanted to figure out when had this feeling on his chest begun, when and how? And the current situation suddenly felt like the best way to figure it out, because as he felt the air hit against his face and knew the world was slowly crumbling around him, he felt like he was not only rushing to you but through memories as well.

He knew for sure that his feelings had nothing to do with that evening in the park back when you were both kids. Your hands wrapped tight around the handles of the mint green bike he had pointed out was hideous just because you seemed to love it so much, eyes soaked with innocence wavering with nervousness and little white sneakers sitting on the pedals.

The memory was quite vivid, how you had taken various deep breaths before your hesitant glare turned to one of determination and you voiced out that you were in fact ready to try on your own.

Your father let go of your bike and you began pedalling, screaming out in joy as you managed to move forward the first two meters completely unscratched before you fell. The consequences of your bravery were a scraped knee and tears that dried fast as you refused to keep crying when he started making fun of your fall.

Neither did it seem to be related with all of those petty fights that had taken place at school back when you felt like you were on top of the world with a perfect score on the chemistry test everyone else had flunked.

All of those instances in which he had gotten to erase a smug smirk from your lips came rushing back, specifically on those midterm tests where he had managed to get an almost perfect score on every single subject after having spent the prior three nights staying up until ungodly hours just to study. Because he wanted to win.

No, he wanted you to see him, even if it meant you were mad at him because he had outperformed you, he wanted to have your undivided attention if only for a couple of minutes and he cursed himself for not knowing better than to annoy you in order to get it.

The feeling constricting his chest had a lot to do with that evening in the eighth grade where the moon shone with a special glimmer. The park that had witnessed the both of you bicker and tease each other endlessly was then completely quiet while it cradled two teenagers sitting on the swings.

It had been around the time where you both seemed to come to terms with your stupid rivarly and accepted that it was just the way you two functioned. And so the late night meetings and the sitting together at lunch with your other mutual friends had become so usual that many times you had both taken it for granted.

“I kissed Felix, well, he kissed me,” you confessed, wearing a dumb grin on your lips, your eyes holding every star that had previously been on the sky that faced the unpleasant feeling harboring on his chest.

He was sure it had a lot to do with the bitter taste that congratulating you for it had left at the back of his mouth, and the annoyance he felt for the following weeks when he faced his freckled friend, because Felix had been your first kiss and not him.

A loud shattering sound interrupted his thoughts, he looked towards his right side without stopping for a second, being met with the image of one of his middle school classmates breaking the window of one of the establishments that were near your favourite ice cream spot downtown.

He hadn’t realized how far he had come while running, not even his ragged breath had done much to bring him out of his daze as opposed to the chaos that was turning his hometown into something that must look like hell.

Completely mortified was an understatement to explain how he felt about the situation, but he at least had the comfort of knowing that both you and his parents were far away from this mayhem, even if that meant he still had a considerable way to go before reaching you.

Nothing could stop him or at least that is what he thought before a flying tv crossed his eyesight, he stopped immediately, almost not being able to dodge the shoe that was thrown into someone else’s direction right after.

He would’ve laughed at the absurdity of both objects crossing his eyesight if it hadn’t been for a loud crash that made reality wash over him once and for all. Turning around he witnessed a blue pickup truck being consumed by greedy flames that threatened not to leave anything behind for the owner of the vehicle.

Right after, he became aware of the hysterical screams of everyone around him and just how many people were there running without a destination and taking as many things as they could hold in their hands.

Deep inside he wished there was a way to make all of this stop but he soon regretted that wish when a gunshot rippled over the loud voices. The world came to a stop for a second as some threw themselves to the floor and covered their heads —Seungmin included— and some others froze in place.

The chaos resumed soon after when the people still standing began running once again without direction, pushing each other and trying to pick up things others allowed to fall from their arms as they tried to escape.

He was trembling on the floor, eyes wide open and trying to take in every last detail he could. The person who had shot was standing on top of a black car, holding a handgun he definitely shouldn’t have. Their eyes were closed as he aimed somewhere else and he shot again.

Another wave of screams filled the city and he choked back a sob as he began crawling on the cold pavement. The sleeves of his jacket were picking up all the dirt of the floor and becoming stained perhaps forever, but that was the least of his worries.

His current goal was reaching the other sidewalk where some small houses were spread in order to keep himself alive, at least he thought that was his best shot for now.

The world seemed to want to prove him wrong, a blaring shriek uncovered that his crawling plan wasn’t fool proof. Beside him a car had barely managed to stop on time not to impact against him.

For what felt like a couple of minutes all he could see were the blinding yellow lights, his body completely frozen and unwilling to react even when his mind screamed that he needed to move.

“Are you alright?” asked a robust man that had stepped outside of the car and kneeled in front of him. And the answer was no, he wasn’t alright, nobody was, hell was consuming every inch of that place and he had no time to spare, not even 48 hours because he might just not make it through another one.

He should thank the man for taking its time to check on him even when Seungmin himself wouldn’t have stepped down from the car if he saw such atrocities taking place, but all he could do was stand up and run with all of his might.

One blue fence looked like the best place to hide behind, not that much as he tried to climb it and ended up falling to the floor where plush grass met his back and elbows. Thankfully he hadn’t hit his head.

A deep sigh escaped his lips as he allowed his head to rest back atop the grass. In front of his eyes the sky had begun turning grey, the warning of yet another inconvenience waiting around the corner.

The unsuccessful attempt at climbing the fence had reminded him of that time he had tried to sneak to your house along with Jisung and Felix, who had planned to climb the fence of your backyard and then come inside from the back door that you would be waiting by.

Of course he had fallen to the floor just like now, grunting more loudly than he should’ve if your parents were asleep and unaware of their presence there —which they weren’t.

You had run towards him with a mocking grin on your face and told him, “you need to stop trying to be interesting because this is all you get from it. Just stick to your books and stay away from any physical activity.”

“Shut up,” he had scowled while sitting up, “I’m more athletic than you.”

“I apologize if I hurt your ego, mister star of the baseball team. But I’m pretty sure the fence did a better job at that than I could.” And he hated that you were right as much as he hated you and your stupidly pretty smile that would appear whenever you were amused.

Taking a deep breath he stood up with more determination than he had when he was in the middle of the main street. He had to make it there and tell you how he felt, even if it was the literal last thing that he managed to do.

He circled the small house and got out through the back door of the yard, taking special care of locking it afterwards, thinking of it as a favour he could do for the people that surely were inside that house facing the horror of the collective hysteria.

There was no time to waste, that was the only certainty that humankind had been given and so he resumed his running, pushing his tired legs to make the most of all of those years of being on the baseball team because that had to be worth something, right?

While running he had always allowed his mind to drift to wherever it pleased, especially back in high school on the early trainings where his coach would send them to run three laps around the school.

Right then and there his mind went back in time once again, this time to a similar instance to the one he underwent. It was in the middle of training when he had heard you had injured yourself and Jisung had taken you to the infirmary.

Of course the worried Felix forgot to mention that you had only twisted your ankle while going down the stairs, nothing more and nothing else. The days that followed he found himself wondering if he would have ran with such desperation if he had been aware of that detail or if he perhaps would’ve experienced the same need of having to see you.

He ran and ran, up the stairs and through the hallways where he had previously scolded people for doing so, but he didn’t care. He wouldn’t slow down until he saw you were alright; and when he finally made sure of it, it was his heart that would refuse to slow down.

After making sure you were okay he had waited by your side, cracking light hearted jokes and making fun of you for being so clumsy when in reality all that he wanted was to hold your hand and sigh loudly in relief. He was such a big idiot for not realising it sooner.

He had always been too scared, of you and especially of the things you made him feel that he couldn’t quite put into words; never knowing exactly how to act around you he had acted like an idiot on many occasions. Not that he was the only one at fault, you could be pretty rude too when you put your mind to it.

Just like at that party in your senior year of high school in which everyone had agreed to the genius idea of playing spin the bottle, which had ultimately resulted in the both of you cramped inside Jisung’s messy closet.

“We don’t have to do anything, in fact, I won’t even touch you so you don’t have to be worried,” he had told you, trying to avoid looking directly at your eyes that were too close for comfort.

“Just say that you’re a coward and stop trying to pretend you’re not doing anything to be a gentleman.” The tone of your voice was outright mocking and it made his blood boil with annoyance.

“I’m not a coward,” he retorted almost right away, “as a matter of fact I could kiss you right here and now but I won’t because you’re going to make a fuss just like you always do.”

What was it about the presence of the other that always made the both of you turn into childish idiots and take stupid decisions? He sincerely had no idea but it happened again after you spoke next. “You don’t have the guts to do it.”

“Watch me.”

The skin of your cheeks felt searing against his palms; your loud friends outside seemed to go silent as if they had a way of knowing he was leaning ever so slowly towards you.

Once he could feel your breath fanning over his lips he looked at your eyes, asking for permission despite his initial impulse of just proving you wrong. You nodded softly before closing your eyes and he finally did it, he kissed you like he had wanted to do since god knows when.

Your lips moved softly against his, warming up his chest and the now rosy skin of his cheeks. He wanted to stay there forever and kiss you until he had robbed you of every breath you could have but you pushed away before he had the chance to.

Confusion had been painted clearly on his face but you didn’t even seem to notice or you simply didn’t care as you pushed open the doors of the closet and loudly declared that the idea was so stupid that you wouldn’t go throught wiht it, that you didn’t want to kiss him not for seven minutes or seven seconds when all he wanted then was to kiss you forever.

Stupid Seungmin, stupid. He chanted in his head as he saw the building of your apartment come closer with every single one of his steps.

He should’ve kissed you more, asked you to prom, he should’ve insisted on hugging you a bit longer the last time you both saw each other, he should’ve told you he loved you, he needed to.

Upon entering the building on the outside of the city where you had decided to settle a year ago, he looked around only to find an eerie silence greeting him. The place wasn’t particularly lively, but this was a contrast that made him shiver.

He looked towards the elevator and quickly discarded that idea, he still remembered how he had to carry box after box up the stairs when you moved here because the elevator was “temporarily” out of order; what the landlord had forgotten to mention was that temporarily meant always for him.

You lived on the fifth floor which usually didn’t present much of an inconvenience but having run across the whole city he felt like his knees were about to give up and no amount of determination could push them to function any better. Nevertheless you were so close already that he couldn’t even think of giving up.

Kim Seungmin had never been one to quit easily nor one to let anxiety persuade him from going after he wanted, and so, mind set on staying true to himself and being well aware that he had nothing else to lose, he knocked on your door three times, just like he always used to.

A couple of minutes passed by until he heard a loud gasp behind the door before he saw you step outside into the hallway with a confused expression painting your beautiful face different from what he remembered.

Was it silly that he just wanted to see you smile?

“What are you doing h—” Your sentence was cut short by the sobs that escaped from in between his lips once he hugged you close to his chest.

He had made a recount of every moment he had spent with you, about every touch and every word you had ever exchanged and used it as a fuel to run away from the chaos that could’ve killed him and all he wanted was you.

Despite all the chaos, hysteria, despite the end of the world, he had run all the way there just because of you.

“I love you,” he said once he had calmed down and you had pulled him inside your apartment, “I love you so much and I was the biggest idiot in the world for not noticing sooner.”

With him your gaze was rarely as soft and comforting as the one you gave him now, with him things had always been complicated because both decided to play dumb, he knew that now.

Your hand travelled to brush his hair away from his face and ultimately to cup the left side of his face where a small scratch had slipped its way on his face on his way there. He melted into the touch and closed his eyes feeling a foreign pain begin taking over his chest.

“The world is ending and you ran all the way here?” you asked seemingly amused, though he couldn’t ignore the slightly worried undertone to your comment.

“I don’t care, I love you,” he whispered back, like a broken record, he believed himself only capable of repeating those three words over and over again.

“You’ve always been an idiot.” Your eyes were filled with tears as you hugged him and brought his head to rest on your shoulder. “But I love you too.”

He began crying once again, because he was terrified and amazingly regretful of not telling you before. But despite of the world falling apart, he finally had you.

[calif0rnia-lovers]

safe haven.

A/N: Don’t mind me, just giving J a normal high school romance--one where his family is not involved. Set in S1 of Animal Kingdom. First time writing for this guy, so let me know what you think 

Pairing: Josh Cody x Black!OC

Rating: 💙 A soft piece with the youngest Cody, and the girl he tries to keep secret from his new found family. 

Request: Convincing J to study bc he's too caught up in the family business to worry about midterms

Words: 3.3k

Josh tightens his grip, crushing the letter in his hand. Left inside the unaddressed envelope, the letter remains unread. There is no point in reading it. J got the gist of the letter from the conversation with the counselor. He discards the crumpled mess in a nearby trash can.

The end of the school week produces a flood of excited teenagers emptying into the parking lot.

J's mind is on the previously discarded letter.

It was a letter of truancy, addressed to his grandmother, his current guardian. It has been months since the passing of J's mother. The school's patience has spread thin. His grades have not dropped, but his attendance has.

His mind is on the letter when he fishes his keys out of his front pocket. His pace slows before he comes to a complete stop a few feet short of his truck. The truck is where he left it, but there's a new addition.

It now has a powder blue backpack on the hood. Seated beside the backpack is the prettiest girl in school.

Cori Edwards has a familiar pair of black shades concealing her dark brown eyes -- now J remembers where he left them. She has abandoned the denim jacket he caught a glimpse of her in earlier. A knowing smile spreads across her face as she watches his eyes linger on the sundress she wears. As his eyes return to hers, J can't deny the smile on his lips.

The last time he saw Cori, for longer than the brief seconds they pass in the halls, was a month ago. This year, it appeared fate wanted to test the two. They had the same classes, the same teachers, but never at the same time. A few months ago, this meant they spent all of their free time stealing kisses at lunch and in the halls. They would then make up for lost time as soon as the school bell rang.

But things have changed too much. 

J's mother didn't keep track of his movements. His grandmother and uncles, J came to learn, analyze his actions. Keeping secrets has become second nature to him since moving into the Cody House. The one secret he swore he'd never reveal was Cori. He hasn't introduced her to Smurf or his uncles. He hasn't shared much about how his life has changed, upon his moving into their house, with Cori.

After so many vague responses, Cori understood it was better not to ask questions. She didn't want to spend her limited time arguing with J. Only, in the last month their limited face time has dwindled. Fizzed out to nothing.

A few texts here. A few long spread out phone calls there.

It was after one of those texts that their last reunion had taken place.

J might have been slightly drunk -- sober enough to drive, and park his truck a block from Cori's parent’s house. He had climbed through her bedroom window. The act itself was not graceful. His tumble through the window at three am woke her dad. Her dad came in to find Cori “still sleeping,” the toppled over AP Calculus and Physics books on the floor enough incentive for him to return to bed.

Once the coast was clear, J managed to strip before climbing into bed alongside her. All she received was a quick kiss before his arm was around her. He was out before his head hit the pillow. He left Cori with no time to inquire about his reasoning behind showing up drunk. Or about the black eye and busted lip. He had to sneak out in the morning before her parents got up.

Rumor has it J’s been showing up to school, even if Cori's rarely seen him there. He shows up for three days, almost like clockwork. Technically, it is enough to stop the school from legally reporting him for truancy. Until the counselor concluded it was time J stopped playing that game--which brings us to J's current situation.

He's standing in the parking lot, keys in hand, staring at his girlfriend -- at least he thinks she's still his girlfriend. Is it weird if he leads with that question?

As he stands before her, the only thought in his mind is how much he's missed her smile.

Jingling the keys in his hand, J regards the innocent smile on Cori's lips before shaking his head.

“You got a tracker on me, I don’t know about, Edwards?”

“Nope. It’s just a Cody sighting is kind of a big deal in these halls,” Cori sighs lightly as her eyes pass over the crowded parking lot. “Word gets around pretty fast when you actually show up.”

Cori’s words don't receive a verbal response. Her eyes are covered, but J knows what look lies inside them. The look causes his eyes to avoid hers. His hand rubs against the back of his neck, a soft chuckle leaving his lips.

"Haven’t seen you around lately, Josh." She continues, the warmth of her fingers against his chin lifting J's gaze. Cori raises her sunglasses, her eyes passing over his face. "Nice to know your black eyes is gone."

"Yeah--sorry about that night." The smile on his lips is sheepish as he watches her study his face. He mentally kicks himself for the following line--he knows it's getting old. He says it anyway. "I had some family stuff-"

"That left you drunk with a black eye and busted lip?"

J takes in her raised brow, his shoulders sink.

What can he say?

I got my ass kicked after I was caught in the act of stealing some guy's car. Granted, my uncle saved my ass, but not before I got a black eye and busted lip?

No. He can't say that.

If he does, then he would have to explain why he was stealing a car in the first place. And that is a rabbit hole J isn't willing to jump down--not with her.

The passing of her fingers through his hair causes J to speak up.

"Sorry. I know you're tired of bullshit excuses." He shakes his head.

"I'm used to it," Cori sighs, her hands falling to her lap.

Before he can stop himself, J's hands are on her thighs pulling her closer. His lips are on hers.

"I'm sorry. You look nice," he smiles as his lips press a second kiss against hers.

"Hmm?"

"I’m serious," he chuckles as his hand finds her waist.

"Trust me, I know it’s true," she laughs. "I’m just trying to figure out why it’s taken you so long to say it."

"I’ve been busy," he begins. "With-"

"Family stuff," Cori nods, her hand waving to dismiss the subject. "I know, but that's not what I tracked you down for. I have so graciously blessed you with my presence because you owe me two things."

"What are they?" J's brow arches, a soft smile on his lips.

Cori drops her hand for his cheek. J's eyes remain on her as she leans back, weight resting against her palms.

"I need a ride home," she lightly pats the hood of the car. "And I need a study buddy."

J lets off a light scoff at the latter.

If there is one undisputed fact, it is Cori's academic ranking. She is top of their class. Between the two, J needs a study buddy to catch up to her perfect GPA.

"Okay. When?"

"Tonight, genius," her eyes roll as she pushes against his shoulder. "Josh, please don’t tell me you forgot we have midterms Monday."

J's eyes briefly drift shut.

"Shit--I have a family thing tonight."

"When?” Cori smiles as his eyes pass over the parking lot. The corners of J's lips turn up into a smile before his gaze returns to hers. “I’m just saying...it’s technically not nighttime yet…and being as you haven't seen me in ten thousand years...the least you can do is study with me...”

"What’s it gonna take for me to get out of this?"

Cori pauses to think.

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"

Shaking her head, Cori smiles as her hands find his shoulders. "There is absolutely nothing that you can give me for me to drop this."

"Damn."

"Unless,” Cori bites back her smile as her playful eyes meet his. “You want to tell me how much you missed me.”

“If that’s it,” J sighs, his lips stopping short of hers, “You might want to go ahead and find another ride home--”

“Shut up,” she giggles as his hands find her waist.

Helping her down, J steals a kiss before following Cori to the passenger side of his truck.

"I'm just giving you a ride home."

"Uh-huh." Turning to face him, she smiles as his lips press against hers.

She allows him a second kiss as J's arm wraps around her waist.

“To sweeten the deal,” she beams. “I’ll even let you take me out.”

"What is it?"

Cori's eyes remain on the surfers visible from the parking lot. She watches the girl who manages to ride the swell longer than the rest of the group. When she glances across the truck, she discovers J watching her. 

"What do you mean?" 

A low chuckle escapes J as he watches Cori busy herself with the task of finishing her milkshake. 

"What's on your mind?"

Despite her asking him to stop and grab something to eat, Cori hasn't said much to J. Even if she had, he knew her well enough to grasp Cori was waiting to ask him something. Her brown eyes raise to meet his gaze before she lets out a breath. 

"It's kinda stupid."

"Coming from you?" His brow arches as his fingers interlace with hers. "I doubt it."

Cori's gaze remains on their interlaced fingers as she speaks.

"It's just, the winter formal is coming up. I figured we could go together."

She glimpses up once her suggestion is met with silence. J's brow is a furrowed, a hesitant smile on his lips. 

His thoughts are racing--he's praying this is the initial time she's breached the subject. That he hadn't missed any hints in his haze the past weeks.

"Seriously? You never want to go to those things."

Cori's eyes roll. J's right. In the last two years, neither of them have attended the school’s dances. 

She bites her lip before opting to take another sip of her strawberry shake. 

"You really wanna go?" A light shrug is what J gets in response. "If you want to go, I'll go."

"It's just--we're going to be done with school soon. We have to go to at least one--"

"And prom?"

"That's not up for debate. Your ass is taking me to prom, Joshua Cody." Cori laughs as J's lips press against her fingers. 

J's smile fades as a ringtone interrupts the conversation. He releases Cori's hand before retrieving his cellphone from the truck's console. 

She silently observes as he reads the name on the screen. 

Baz. 

She remembers the name--he is one of J's uncles--but that's where her knowledge ends. The furrow of J's brow sets in as he declines the call.

“So...this family thing," she notes, as his eyes meet hers. Before she can get the rest of her thought out, a text comes through recapturing J's attention. "It must be pretty important.”  

J's shrug seems outlandish when held alongside the urgency of his uncle. In the time it took to eat, J's phone has got several notifications. Each time, he pauses long enough to silence the call and proceeds as if it never came. 

“It’s just a thing with my uncles.” His mood is light as he sets the phone back down. His easiness returns as he meets her eyes. "Smurf's pretty serious about everyone being home for it." 

He can notice the slight hesitance in her eyes before she offers him a smile in return.

Leaning across the car, J presses a kiss against her cheek. His lips drift to her neck. 

"I'll get the tickets Monday," he mumbles as his lips retrace their steps. "Promise."

J's truck is parked engine idling. His left-hand rests against the steering wheel, his eyes on her.

Cori has removed her seatbelt. Her body is turned in the seat so that she faces J. She toys with the hem of her dress instead of moving to get out.

"It was good to see you, J."

"Yeah," J agrees. Her eyes lift to meet his, the soft smile on his lips stretching into a grin. "You too."

J opens his mouth to continue the thought, but Cori has already turned away from him. He watches as she retrieves her backpack from the back seat.  

"Cori," J clears his throat. The action hinders Cori's opening of the door. Her hand hovers over the handle. "Maybe we can hang-"

"Nope.”

J blinks. His brow furrows as a silence falls over the car.

"If you want to see me again," Cori teases, her hand falling from the handle. "It will be in school."

"Why do I have a feeling you're not gonna let this go?" J's eyes roll softly as Cori leans across the car. "You’re serious?" 

"Because I'm not letting this go," she smiles sweetly, ignoring the chuckle the action pulls from J. "And, I'm 'lock my window' serious, Josh. Show up if you want, and I’ll leave you outside."

The smile on Cori's lips grows as J's gaze falls from hers. His tongue passes over his lips as she leans closer.

His eyes drift shut as her giggle fills the car before Cori presses a kiss against his cheek. She leaves a second kiss before moving away. Hopping out of the truck, Cori slips her backpack onto her shoulders.

"Think about what’s important to you, Cody," she beams before shutting the door.

J picks up his phone. The screen lights up as a new text message appears.

6 missed calls. Baz

7 missed texts. Baz

1 missed text. Craig

He opens the most recent notification from Craig.

Dude. Call Baz back so he'll stop losin his shit. You know we got that thing tonight

Cori is in the process of unlocking the door when she hears the sound of his car door slamming. Looking over her shoulder, she smiles as J crosses the driveway backpack over his shoulder.

"Two hours,” he concedes. J is powerless to the tug of her hand as Cori pulls him inside. “Then I have to go. Baz is blowing up my phone.”

"Then we better get started."

J's fingers comb through his hair, the brown eyes trained on him forcing him back to reality.

Judging by the look on Cori's face, this is not the first time she has spoken. Heat rushes to his face as J's gaze reverts to the stack of notecards in his hands.

"Uh--yeah," he clears his throat as he shifts in the computer chair. "That's right."

He steals a second glance at her, the smile on Cori's lips not helping with his current situation.

"Of course it is," she winks. Her gaze returns to the review sheet. She stops to make a note alongside the term The Baroque.

The two are currently in the midst of an AP European History review.

J isn't much help, but Cori doesn't need it. Each of her responses is correct. That's good for J. He's spent the last thirty minutes distracted.

It's a good thing Cori claimed the bed, laying on her stomach as she pulled out her notebook. J took the computer chair opposite of her. If Cori had let him join her on the bed, no studying would have taken place.

It doesn't matter that a month has passed. J hasn't been able to keep his eyes off Cori Edwards since her arrival freshman year.

A smile creeps across his face as J's eyes meet Cori's for a second time.

"You need a break, Cody?" The grin on her lips widens as Cori rests her chin in her hand. "You seem distracted."

"Just thinking about how you don't need these." J lifts the cards in his hands before discarding them on the nearby desk. "You never have."

"Hmm..." Cori's eyes return to the review sheet. She pauses to add more to the notes written neatly in the margins. "True, but you do."

Pushing herself up, she passes over the review sheet. Written neatly in the top right-hand corner is J's name.

"I made this for you Tuesday night."

J studies the sheet for a moment, his fingers massaging his temple as he takes in Cori's study guide.

Shit--she's right. He does need it. He missed the review session on Tuesday. The thing about AP Euro is that it's not as straight forward as Trig. J can ace his Trig midterm in his sleep. AP Euro is a whole separate story.

"Thanks, Cori," he sighs. The grateful look in his eyes as he watches her cross the room earns him a warm smile. "You didn't have to-"

"Oh, trust me, I know." Taking his hand in her, Cori lowers herself down onto his lap. "But, I know you have a lot going on. Besides, making the sheet helped me review for the test."

"I love you. You know that?"

"As you should." Taking his face in her hands, Cori smiles as J meets her gaze. She closes the remaining distance between their lips. "I love you too."

As her lips drift to his neck, fingers slipping beneath the hem of his t-shirt, J pushes her dress up her thighs.

"I thought we were studying," he chuckles, his lips returning to hers.

"We're taking a break," she giggles. "You’re useless when you’re distracted."

When he wakes, J knows he’s overstayed. He was meant to leave by four. It’s four thirty. 

The cellphone, humming on the surface of Cori’s desk, sounds through the bedroom. J doesn’t lift his head from the pillow. Instead, he watches her face scrunch in irritation as the sound gradually pulls Cori out of her sleep.

“You gotta go?” She breathes, her eyes remaining shut as she tries to fall back to sleep.

“I should,” he chuckles. His finger traces the curve of Cori's shoulder. “Your parents will probably be home soon.”

“You’re right.” A soft giggle follows as J's arm wraps around her waist, pulling her body across the bed. “You should probably go.”

Despite his words, J makes no move to leave the bed. He sinks his face into her neck. His weight presses her into the mattress as her arms wind around his neck. He stays there for almost ten minutes. His eyes closed, listening to the delicate pattern of her pulse. Neither says a word. Cori knows the time has come to let him go when J presses a soft kiss against her skin before forcing himself up.

“I have some family shit I gotta handle,” J huffs as his palms rub against his eyes. “So, um, I probably won’t be on my phone for most of the weekend.”

“Okay.”

J proceeds to redress, his body in no rush to leave, as his phone starts again.

He needs to go. Now.

J has prolonged his return to reality, and the Cody House, long enough. If he doesn’t call back shortly, Smurf might have a heart attack.

J tugs his t-shirt over his head. His eyes focus on the bedroom window. He’s shocked Smurf's car is not parked out front. It wouldn’t be the first time his grandmother has tracked him.

“I just meant--I might not be able to pick up if you call,” he crosses the room to meet Cori. The faint smile on his lips brings one to her. “You can text me.”

“Maybe,” Cori sighs as J's lips caress her cheek. “If I have time. I’ll have to check my schedule.”

She catches sight of his sparkling eyes before J’s lips are on hers. The kiss itself is soft, another step in his lingering goodbye. His lips linger against hers before pressing against hers a final time.

“Hey,” J pulls back, his fingers interlacing with hers. He gently squeezes her hand as she meets his gaze. “Thanks for today. I missed you.”

“You too.”

“I’ll text you later,” J smiles before retrieving his phone and backpack.

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[hartigays]

Could you also maybe do a sick fic where Steve gets sick? I love a good angsty sick fic but I feel like it's always Billy getting sick. Thank you so much! Love you and your superbly gorgeous writing!!! 💛💛💛

steve feels like shit.

it’s the first thing he recognizes upon waking up. his head feels like there’s a construction crew drilling away at it, and his throat is on fire. like it’s been rubbed raw with some steel wool. he can’t breathe through his nose, the pressure of his congestion making his face throb.

groaning, steve burrows deeper into his covers, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to ignore the persistent ringing in his ears.

his parents are out of the country for the next two weeks. in germany, maybe? steve can’t really remember what they told him. he can’t remember much of anything right now. other than that he’s basically on his fucking own with this shit.

except - oh, god. his history midterm. that’s fucking - fuck. that’s today. steve presses the heels of his palms into his eyes, hard enough that he sees stars. rolls out of bed, lands on the floor with a soft thump.

today is clearly just not going to be his day.

steve can’t muster the energy to get up. instead, he drags himself across the floor. little by little. reaches the bathroom, throws an assortment of bottles from under the cabinet at the light switch until the room floods with light.

it’s too bright. his head gives a hearty throb. steve grips the edge of the bathroom counter and heaves himself off the ground. or tries to, anyway. it takes him a few tries before he’s upright, both of his feet under him.

getting ready is hard. he can realistically only brush his teeth and scrub on some deodorant. his hair is just going to have to look like a rat’s nest today. he doesn’t even bother looking in the mirror before stumbling out of the house.

steve doesn’t remember getting to school. he knows he drove, given that he’s sitting in the parking lot. the beemer is practically diagonal in the parking space.

he’s still in his sweats and a t-shirt, the look complete with three layers of sweaters and the biggest coat he could find. somehow, steve is both boiling and freezing. he’s definitely running a fever.

mr. osborne doesn’t comment on steve’s appearance when he stumbles into the classroom. he does, however, set steve’s exam on the corner of his desk instead of handing it to him directly. steve clumsily grabs it off the desk, trudging slowly to his seat.

the font on the paper is too small. or maybe steve’s eyes are just super out of focus. either way, it makes his brain pulse. his head feels like it’s full of wet cement, and steve is pretty sure his skin is on fire.

the room feels like it’s spinning. maybe he’s dying? steve thinks he’d be okay with that. no, he’d definitely be okay with that. if it saves him from being conscious right now, he’ll take it.

it doesn’t take steve long to just start circling random answers. he’s finding it harder and harder to stay upright and he just needs to be done. no one says a word when he drops his exam on the teacher’s desk and practically flings himself out the door.

he’s cold now. too cold. steve is forgetting rather quickly what warmth feels like. he needs to get to his car but he’s starting to forget where that is, too. he just keeps walking. ends up in the boy’s locker room.

steve slumps against a row of lockers. slides down to the ground with a groan and puts his head between his knees. if he dies here, so be it. he only wishes he’d made it the few extra feet to the showers, so he could die happily under the warm spray of water.

he must fall asleep, or black out, or something. because the next thing steve knows, he’s coming to with the sound of his name ringing in his ears.

“harrington. harrington. jesus christ.”

steve makes a noise of protest at the feeling of someone’s hands on his face. it makes the pressure in his head double. there’s a warm hand covering his forehead, and another tucked under his chin, holding his head up.

“fuck off, dad.”

distantly, he hears someone snort.

“‘m not your fuckin’ dad, harrington,” the person says.

the voice is familiar? kind of. steve’s ears feel like they’re stuffed with cotton - everything sounds distorted and distant. steve finally blinks at the person hovering in his line of sight. and - jesus. of course. of course it had to be him.

“billy? what’re you doing in my bathroom?”

the look billy gives him is both amused and exasperated. it’s an unfamiliar look for him.

“i hate to be the bearer of bad news, but…” billy starts, then pauses, brushing the sweat-matted hair from steve’s forehead. “last time i checked, this wasn’t your bathroom.”

steve blinks, glancing around. they’re surrounded by lockers and the stench of dirty gym socks. right. he’s still at school, dying a slow death on the grimy locker room floors.

“leave me here to die,” steve whines, his head falling back against the cool metal behind him. “my time has come.”

an honest-to-god laugh escapes billy’s lips. steve has to be dead. because he’s pretty sure billy hargrove is physically incapable of laughter.

“c’mon, pretty boy. can’t stay here forever,” billy coaxes once he sobers. “up and at ‘em.”

steve doesn’t move. billy doesn’t seem to care. he wedges both hands under steve’s armpits before hauling him off the ground, almost effortlessly.

and okay, steve knows billy is strong. he’s seen billy without a shirt on more times than he’s seen him dressed - he knows the guy is built like a truck. but steve hadn’t been expecting billy to be able to scoop him up with ease, like he’s nothing more than a rag doll.

it makes steve feel warm in a way that has nothing to do with his fever. it’s good that he’s sick - he likes having something to blame that feeling on. something other than the truth.

billy has one arm wrapped around steve’s waist. he slings one of steve’s arms around his neck, grabbing his hand to keep it in place. billy guides them out of the locker room with more patience than steve would’ve ever thought possible.

“where’s your car?” billy asks once they hit the parking lot, still supporting the majority of steve’s weight.

steve doesn’t think before burying his face into billy’s shoulder, shielding his eyes from the offending sunlight.

“what’s a car?”

“mother of god, harrington. fuckin’ useless,” billy groans. his voice is almost inaudible when he says, “you’re lucky you’re pretty.”

steve still hears it.

the camaro smells like cigarettes and billy’s cologne. steve lets billy tuck him into the passenger’s seat. doesn’t protest when billy leans in close to buckle him in.

the drive is a black spot in steve’s memory once again. one minute, billy is backing out of his parking space, and the next, they’re sitting in steve’s driveway.

billy pulls his keys from the ignition, then disappears out into the sunlight. a moment later, he’s guiding steve out of the car and into the house. steve is covered in a layer of sweat, so he must’ve been hot on the drive over. but he’s back to freezing again, his teeth chattering.

“you need to knock that fever down,” billy orders, kicking the door shut with his heel. “think you can handle that? i gotta get back for practice.”

steve nods slowly. billy releases him from his grip, and steve immediately folds in on himself, collapsing on the ground with a disgruntled moan.

“guess that answers that question,” billy mutters, squatting down next to steve. “you got anyone you can call, pretty boy? someone who can come stay with you?”

mentally thumbing through every person he knows, steve makes a face. shakes his head. because no, he doesn’t.

his parents probably wouldn’t fly home even if steve keeled over and died. his only friends at this point are middle schoolers. nancy is most certainly not an option. he could try jonathan, but he’s obviously still back at school and more than likely has work right after. god knows he can’t miss a fucking shift.

“‘m good. all good. super duper,” steve rambles, just on this side of delirious. “go to bed, jimmy.”

billy sighs, staring up at the ceiling with a look that screams this guy really is fucking hopeless.

“alright, alright. let’s get you in bed,” billy says, shaking his head in defeat.

he hauls steve up off the ground. somehow manages to drag steve’s nearly lifeless body up the stairs and into his room. billy tries to let steve down onto the bed gently, but steve slips from his grip and face-plants onto his mattress.

“mmm,” steve sighs appreciatively, swinging his legs onto the bed and curling up into a ball. “‘s like a cloud. soft cloud. fluffy…”

billy just gives him a look, one brow raised. “yeah? well, do me a favor and don’t leave the cloud, alright? i’ll be back soon.”

steve doesn’t remember where billy said he’s going. he doesn’t have the chance to ask, because billy disappears from his bedroom a moment later. he probably wouldn’t have had the strength to form a sentence anyway.

he lets his eyelids flutter shut. drifts for a while, in and out of consciousness. his body feels hot and cold all the while, and fever dreams do nothing to settle the tension building at the base of his neck.

the dreams are the same ones he always has, but also - not. they’re darker, more intense. more vivid. steve is pretty sure he can actually feel the bite of the demo-dog’s teeth shredding his calf. the impact of his nail bat colliding with the side of his head. the terrifying chill that settles in his bones when the mind flayer looms over him.

the life draining from the bodies of his friends.

steve comes to with a scream dying on his tongue. he sits up wildly, drenched in sweat. swings himself over the side of his bed and grabs his bat in one smooth motion. doesn’t think before swinging.

“jesus - fuck! the fuck, harrington? what the fuck - what are you doing? why do you even fuckin’ have that?”

the bat clatters to the floor, falling from steve’s hands. he looks at billy in horror, an apology stuck in his throat. “fuck, i’m - god, i’m so sorry. shit.”

“shit is right,” billy mutters. but he doesn’t leave.

he stays perched on the side of steve’s bed. leans in and rests his palm over steve’s forehead. swears under his breath when he does.

“if you’re done trying to kill me,” billy starts, still eyeing the discarded bat warily, “you need to take these. you gotta get that fever down.”

“sorry, i just. dreams. bad dreams,” steve says. a shudder runs through him, one that has nothing to do with his fever. his dreams still have his spine in their icy grip.

“that why you keep that under your bed? for some stupid fuckin’ dreams?”

steve makes a face, his cheeks burning. “they’re not - forget it. point is, i’m sorry.”

billy gives him a calculating look, his expression unreadable. then, he stretches out a hand. steve takes the concoction of pills gratefully, choking them down dry. billy rolls his eyes, grabbing the tea that steve had yet to spot from the side table and handing it to him.

“‘s good,” steve acknowledges, sipping the drink almost greedily. it warms his icicle fingers better than any blanket.

“mom’s recipe,” billy tells him, seemingly without thinking. he steels his expression immediately after, clearing his throat. “drink it all, it’ll help.”

“thanks.” steve continues to sip at his tea. “you don’t have to stay, you know. ‘m feeling better. i can take it from here.”

billy snorts. shakes his head. “yeah, good one. last thing i need is to see your dumbass on the news for trying to jump into the quarry after having one of your fuckin’ dreams again.”

that has nothing to do with steve being sick. he looks up sharply, giving billy a strange look. billy is staying with him because of his dreams now? if that’s the case, well. billy should be prepared for an extended fucking stay. steve says as much.

“beats going home,” is all billy says in response.

he gets up wordlessly, exiting steve’s room. steve hears his footsteps stomp down the stairs. continues to sip at his tea, rolling billy’s words around in his head.

it’s weird, knowing billy cares. it’s weird having billy be gentle with him, period. sick or not. but it seems like something practiced, something that billy has done a thousand times before.

he makes a mental note to ask him about that later.

for now, steve polishes off his tea. flops back onto his pillows, and falls into another restless slumber. this time, he dreams of blue eyes and heated, secret touches in dark corners.

he has to change his boxers when he wakes up.

his fever is down, though. at least a few degrees. steve gets changed, tossing his soiled boxers in his laundry basket, his cheeks flushed bright red. makes his way downstairs, noting that the sun has completely set.

steve hears the tv before he sees billy. pads into the living room, feeling his stomach flip flop at the sight of billy lounging on his couch. he just so happens to be in steve’s favorite spot, curled up under steve’s favorite throw blanket.

“fever’s down,” steve says, alerting billy of his presence. “not sure if that’s because of the meds, or the tea. either way, thanks for both.”

billy glances up at him, his brows coming together in mild concern. “you should be in bed.”

“and you should be home, not laying on my couch worrying about my sorry ass,” steve tells him with a shrug. moves to sit next to billy on the couch, eyes fixed on the tv without really taking in what’s playing.

“well. clearly, someone’s gotta.”

steve flinches, but doesn’t deny the truth to billy’s words. because honestly, he’s right. if billy doesn’t, no one will. and steve has clearly demonstrated that being on his own is not an option at the moment.

he’s about to speak, but billy beats him to it. “i, uh. made you some soup. chicken noodle, or what the fuck ever. ‘s in the fridge. just gotta warm it up.”

steve nods appreciatively. his stomach turns at the thought of food, but it also grumbles desperately. of all the things he has to eat in this house, soup seems to be his safest bet. he thanks billy before heading into the kitchen.

he’s just setting the time on the microwave when billy bursts in, waving steve away with an exaggerated sigh.

“who fuckin’ raised you, harrington? stovetop. always stovetop for soup,” billy lectures, shooing him away from the microwave.

steve watches him pull out a decent-sized pot, pouring the soup from his bowl into it before beginning to heat it on the stove.

“who raised you that made you so damn good at this shit?” steve asks incredulously, rolling his eyes.

billy clears his throat and turns fully towards the stove. doesn’t speak for a long moment, until, “mom did. ‘fore she died.”

steve swallows around the lump that has suddenly formed in his throat. “oh. i’m - shit. i’m sorry.”

all he gets in response is a half-hearted shrug, with billy’s back still to him. the silence stretches on, though it’s more melancholic than uncomfortable. soon, billy is dumping the soup back into the bowl, placing it and a spoon in front of steve.

“long time ago, harrington,” billy finally says. places the same mixture of meds on the counter beside him. “keep taking these. should knock that fever down completely by morning.”

“how’d she die?” steve blurts, then gives billy a horrified look. “jesus christ, i’m sorry. that wasn’t - i didn’t mean to pry. forget i asked.”

billy looks like he’s torn between wanting to turn and walk away, and wanting to genuinely answer the question.

steve is a little more than surprised when billy chooses the latter.

“brain cancer. she got sick a lot, during treatment. took care of her after her surgeries and shit, too. fuck knows dad never did.”

“do you miss her?” steve asks, quietly. doesn’t bother poking more at that bit of information about his father. knows that there’s a limit to this conversation.

“‘course,” billy says, his voice hot. irritated. then, that heat drains out of him, and he just looks tired. “wouldn’t you?”

steve looks down at his now half-empty bowl. feels that lonely echo bounce around in his chest. “uh, i don’t - i don’t really know. can’t say i know her very well.”

billy has this look of dawning realization on his face, before the shutters close over his expression once again. he gestures to the bowl in front of steve. says, “finish up. i’ll clean up when you’re done.”

steve does as he’s asked. if he’s good at one thing, it’s doing what’s expected of him. he’s got that going for him, at least.

true to his word, billy cleans up when steve is finished. then, heads back into the living room wordlessly. steve doesn’t ask if he’s allowed to follow - he just does it anyway. like, fuck it. it’s his house.

they take the same spots as before, but it feels different. it’s been like, twenty minutes max, but with the information that has just been shared between them, the silence between them is more amicable than anything.

“thanks,” steve says suddenly, peeling his eyes from the tv. “y’know, for helping me out today.”

billy shrugs. “‘s no big. you needed it.”

“yeah, well. you don’t see anyone else around offering a hand, do you?”

“point taken,” billy snorts. “you’ve got some shitty friends, you know that?”

“they have their reasons,” is all steve says. defensive.

because they do. steve knows that better than anyone. they all can hardly take care of themselves, much less each other. it comes with the monster-fighting territory. he’s long since gotten used to that - to them leaning on each other when the world is in danger of ending, and being lost in their own lives when things are calm.

what’s truly unfamiliar is having someone around that actually seems to want to take care of him. to offer help and support. steve knew people like that existed, objectively. he just never fucking expected billy hargrove to be one of them.

“sure they do,” billy tells him, his voice carefully neutral. “‘but ‘til they get their shit together, all you get is me.”

“‘s not so bad,” steve says, voice quiet.

steve doesn’t know if his subconscious intended it, but their knees knock together when steve says it. billy looks at him sharply, suddenly watching him like a hawk.

“yeah?”

“yeah.”

another long stretch of silence follows. it seems to be a common occurrence between them. steve doesn’t mind as much as he would’ve thought.

soon, though, that tension begins to build again at the base of his neck. it happens every time he gets a fever, feeling like someone poured a gallon of wet concrete right where his spine meets his neck. steve rubs at it with a grimace, and billy notices.

“you should go lay down, get some more rest,” billy advises, eyeing him warily.

“i don’t want to be - um,” steve starts, then breaks off in the middle of his sentence. flushes cherry red. “i mean - i want to see the end. of the movie.”

billy gives him a long look, his brows raised in disbelief. steve thinks he’s going to push that, ask more questions, but he doesn’t. he just sits up, starting to move out of his spot.

“then lay down here, if you’re gonna be such a baby about it.”

steve glares at him without any real heat. “‘m not taking your spot.”

billy huffs out a disbelieving sigh, his eyes cast up at the ceiling. “fuckin’ hell, harrington. you’ve got like, ten couches. i think i’ll be alright.”

“but you were comfortable.”

they stare at each other for what feels like an eternity, but in reality was probably only about fifteen seconds.

then, billy lays back down, slowly but surely. keeps his eyes on steve the entire time. gestures to steve, then his chest. “fuckin’ come on, then.”

steve’s mouth pops open in surprise. “wait, you want me to - you’re just gonna - me? on you?”

billy cracks a small half-smile, steve is sure of it. it’s fleeting, but it’s there. “would you quit being such a fuckin’ whiny baby about everything and lay the fuck down?”

steve moves quickly, before billy can change his mind. shifts to lay down on billy, squirming and adjusting until he gets comfortable. he’s laying pretty much face-down on billy, his face pressed into his chest. he turns his head so that his cheek is resting there instead, so he can breathe, and also so he can see the tv. billy slings an arm around him casually, eyes turned back to the movie.

seemingly completely relaxed and nonchalant.

steve, on the other hand, feels tense and stiff as a board. too scared to move, for fear that billy will shove him away and tell him to get lost.

that is, until billy’s hand comes to rest at the small of steve’s back, his thumb making these little soothing circles into one of the dimples at the base of his spine. it’s through the shirt, but steve goes pliant anyway, bonelessly relaxed. drifts off again, this time with the grounding weight of billy beneath him.

steve doesn’t dream this time. in fact, he thinks it’s the most restful sleep he’s gotten in a while. he pries his eyes open when his brain starts to come back online, an hour or so later, emitting a soft groan of appreciation at the feeling of billy’s fingers running through his hair, gently massaging his scalp.

“you okay? ‘m not hurting you, am i?” billy asks, looking down at him with mild concern.

“feels good,” steve sighs into billy’s chest, curling deeper into his warmth. “keep doin’ it.”

billy answers with a soft snort, his fingers continuing their journey through his hair.

“you’re pretty cute when you’re not tryna punch me in the face,” steve mumbles, without thinking. his eyes pop open in horror, and he sits up a little, about to begin his ten part apology.

billy beats him to the punch. “yeah, well. you’re pretty cute when you’re fuckin’ helpless as shit. and when you sleep. you snore like a puppy, you know that?”

steve is pretty sure his cheeks flush tomato red. billy thinks he’s cute. since when the fuck did that happen?

he’s about to ask, but the hand billy isn’t using to comb through his hair comes up, cupping steve’s jaw. his thumb catches on steve’s bottom lip, and he gives him a soft smile. and like, since when the fuck did that happen?

billy hargrove and soft are not two things that naturally coexist. and yet, here they are, billy holding him like he’s a porcelain doll and telling him he’s cute.

steve really fucking wants to kiss him. even shifts forward to do so, but billy stops him.

“nuh-uh. no sir. not kissin’ you while you’ve got a fever,” billy tells him, shaking his head.

steve pouts a little, but can’t help the goofy grin that spreads across his face. “but you do want to kiss me?”

“would i be touchin’ you like this if i didn’t?”

“i dunno, would you?” steve asks, voice quiet. it’s meant to come out as teasing, but he can’t help the insecurity that bleeds into it.

billy gives him a soft look. tugs steve up close, before pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. then, tucks steve into his neck, wrapping his arms around him and holding on tight. safe and sound.

“no, i wouldn’t.”

steve lets out an audible sigh of relief. it was obvious to begin with, sure. but he’s been burned before. just had to double check, for the sake of his own sanity.

“fine. but for the record, as soon as this fever breaks, you’re in for a hell of a makeout session,” steve vows, pressing a series of lingering kisses to billy’s neck.

billy just laughs, his arms winding around him just a bit tighter.

“yeah, yeah. i’m holding you to that, princess.”

and steve? well, he’s beyond okay with that. he’s never been one to break a promise, anyway.

[wildly-lost-lantern]

High Life

A/N: Hi guys! It’s Wildly here. I’m not ready to post the next chapter of SPS so I wrote a Mingi one shot thingy? Hope this is good lmao. This is my first shot at smut so please be nice 

Genre: Fluff, smut, pwp

Ateez Song Mingi x Female Reader

Word Count: 1566

Warning: marijuana usage, unprotected sex (BE SAFE KIDDOS), oral on a male, um this is just pwp yall. Idk man its not crazy rough?

It was a calm Saturday evening the first time your boyfriend caught you smoking weed. It was nothing new for you, but he didn’t expect to find you stoned when he decided to surprise you after his shift at the library ended. You two had been together for about a year, and he had a key to your apartment. So, when he walked in just to see you laying on your couch watching some stupid stand up special on Netflix, he wasn’t surprised. However, the powerful scent of marijuana hit him like a truck. He had smoked a few times in his earlier years of university, but it had been a while.

“Y/N? You okay?” He sounded concerned, but mostly amused at your relaxed state. The lopsided grin you gave him was intended to make you seem more sober, but he saw through you.

“Mingi! Why are you here? I didn’t think you’d be coming over babes,” was your slowed response. He simply laughed and picked your legs up, placing them on his lap.

“Are you high?” He raised his eyebrow at you, obviously knowing the answer. You simply giggled and went back to zoning out at the tv.

That was the first time he had seen you high, but eventually it became something you two both did to relax after midterms and finals. By the end of your college experience, just before you two were set to graduate, you two had officially become the schools ‘stoner couple’. Not that you were complaining. You lived in a state where it was legal, after all.

On the night of your graduation, after all the celebrations with each of your families, you had finally gotten to go home. Your beautiful boyfriend had a surprise for you.

“You didn’t!” You shouted as you opened the door to your apartment. The two of you had finally moved in together and sitting on the coffee table (the one he picked out) when you walked inside, was a pastel pink bong. One that you had been wanting for a while.

“Congratulations baby.” He said when you had turned around and hugged him tighter than should be possible for your small body. You simply kissed him, hoping that your gratitude was shown.

“I got you something too, Hun,” You said as you turned to go under the entertainment center. You picked up a small box, blushing as you turned to him. He opened the small box, and you watched with bated breath. When he pulled the small bracelet from the box, you looked away.

“Y/N…it’s beautiful,” his voice was just barely above a whisper. It was a cheesy little bracelet. “What does it say?” he asked, grabbing your soft hand in his larger one.

“Hakuna matata, as you usually say when I start to get too stressed. I hoped it would remind you to take a breath when you start to get stressed and overwhelmed,” you told him, a soft smile sitting on your painted lips. He put the beaded bracelet on his wrist, admiring the way Morse Code was done.

“I love it. And I love you. Why don’t we celebrate our way, babe?” he said with his signature smirk, nodding his head toward your new piece. You nodded happily.

Within ten minutes, the both of you were cuddled up on the couch, watching some new movie. You with your hair in a bun, make up wiped off, one of his soft t-shirts, and your favorite pair of sleep shorts. Him with his favorite pair of grey sweatpants, a loose white t-shirt, and his red hair pushed off his face. You passed the beautiful pink glass piece to him, slowly letting out the smoke from your lungs. Everything was hazy, and you felt wonderful. He tapped the edge of the bowl, mumbling something about it being cashed. You just shrugged.

“Fuck. Mingi, I love you.” You said, laying your head on his shoulder. You giggled softly, whispering, “We did it. We fucking graduated baby.” He simply rubbed your thigh, leaning his head back. When you glanced back up at his face, you saw the smooth expanse of his throat. Before you could stop yourself, you started kissing it, loving the way his skin felt on your lips.

“What do you think you’re doing, hmm?” He turned his head to look at you, his eyes slightly darkened. You shrugged.

“I miss the feeling of your skin, that’s all,” you muttered as you swung one leg on to the other side of his hips, effectively straddling his waist. All he did was groan lightly. You kissed him deeply, the fuzziness of the drugs making every feeling heightened. His fingers gripped your thighs tightly. Suddenly, you both were overcome with an intense hunger for each other.

“Bedroom, now,” He growled against your lips, and you didn’t hesitate to move off him and head upstairs to the bedroom you shared. With him right behind you, the excitement between your legs grew. The moment the door closed, you had dropped to your knees, silently begging him to let you taste him. “So eager tonight. Isn’t that right, doll?” he grabbed your face gently, smiling at you.

“Yes, please. Let me suck you off, please babe,” you whimpered at him, gripping the waist band of his sweats. He smiled at you, nodding once. Before you could even think about it, you had pulled his pants and boxers halfway down his thighs, grabbing his hard cock. You took the head past your hips, and in one motion you had it halfway in your mouth. His soft groan from above you made you look up at him, everything still fuzzy and warm around the edges. You could feel your slick gathering up in your panties, but you couldn’t care less. You stared up at his face as you started to bob your head up and down his cock. What you couldn’t fit in your mouth you stroked with your right hand. As you picked up speed, and became sloppier, he grabbed your hair in a tight handful.

“Fuck, babe. I can’t wait any longer,” He said as he pulled away from your mouth. A soft whine tore through your throat, and he just laughed. He helped you up and kissed you with so much hunger that your head started to spin. You reach up and started to take his top off, pulling away when you get him to cooperate. He took your (his) shirt off, kicking his pants and boxers away shortly after. You both met on the bed once more, locking lips as if you had been away from each other for years. As he pulled away from your lips, he pulled your shorts and panties down, a soft moan tumbling past your lips as his fingers trailed along your thighs.

“God, just please fuck me Mingi, I can’t wait any longer. Please!” You whined out, spreading your legs widely for him. He groaned at the sight of you laid out, begging for him to take you. Nonetheless, he did as you asked, using one hand to line up his delicious cock to your entrance. In one movement he was buried deep in your wet heat. He leaned down to kiss and bite along your collarbones, drawing whines and moans from you. You wrapped one leg around his hips, begging him to just pound into you hard and fast. And he did. He gripped your right hip in his hand, pulling back to slam into you. The headrest of your bed slammed into the wall, and you cried out his name. He set a brutal pace, fucking you into the bed as if he hadn’t just had sex with you three nights ago.

“Fuck, you feel so good baby. Always so good for me, Y/N” he says in your ear as you grip his shoulders. He wasn’t letting up his pace, not that you wanted him to. You whimpered and whined, looking at him with a fucked-out expression. This only egged him on. He used one hand to start playing with your clit, groaning loudly when your walls tightened on him. You could feel your orgasm quickly approaching, the knot in your belly getting tighter with every thrust.

“Mingi, I’m gonna come! Please, fuck, don’t stop,” You moaned out his name louder. He smiled at you and picked up the pace of his fingers.

“Yeah, come for me baby. I wanna feel you come on my dick,” He groaned lowly in your ear, resting his forehead on your shoulder. Before you even noticed, you were moaning out loudly, back arching off the bed as you came. He followed shortly after, the way your pussy clenched down on him too much for him to hold back any longer. The two of you stayed connected, a tangle of limbs, as you both tried to catch your breath. Mingi pulled out of you and rolled over, pulling you into his side.

“That was amazing, babe,” you said, nuzzling into his chest slightly. He rubbed your back, kissing the top of your head.

“I’ll go get a washcloth.” He said, getting out of bed. You heard the sink turning on, and then off, and he returned soon after. He cleaned you up, and himself, before returning to bed with you. Soon, you both slipped into a blissful sleep, tangled in each other’s arms.

[shookethbrooketh]

stars

chapter 27

dan soundly slept through the night; he must have been tired, as every logical position said he would have woken up multiple times either from situational anxiety or discomfort of the hospital floor. when he woke up, sun was shining through the windows, and margo wasn’t breathing.

summary: dan grew up in a normal 1930s london family with his parents and little brother. everything was completely and utterly normal… until the bombs started dropping. When dan was fifteen his father went off to war, and when he was sixteen he and his brother hayden were sent off to a foster family in rural england. he looked up at the stars and couldn’t help but wonder how something that beautiful could exist in such a broken world. just when he thought things would never get better, dan met phil, and he became the shining star of his life. but when phil turned eighteen and went off to war, dan couldn’t help but wonder when, if ever, the stars would twinkle the same way again.

rating: t

genre: angst, fluff, history au, strangers to lovers, teenagers

whole fic warnings: warfare (not descriptive), bombings, fire, panic attacks, ptsd, epilepsy/seizures, homophobia, death, fighting/arguing, general angst, mentions of a car accident, hospitals chapter warnings: death, mentions of a car accident, hospitals, mentions of blood

chapter word count: 2.2k total word count: 40.4k

read it on ao3 read it on wattpad fic masterlist

a/n: this chapter’s super duper sad and kinda dark so be careful reading it! it should be better next chapter :) 

University was difficult for Dan, but he managed to keep up. As a law student, he’d found himself in about the hardest program possible, but the time it took up managed to distract him from all the people he missed. 

Of course, he still wrote to both Phil and Hayden every day, but his studies kept him from thinking about them every moment of every day, which was an extreme step up. 

His first semester was the hardest for multiple reasons. Being alone for the first time was a terrible struggle; he barely knew how to provide for himself. Had it not been for his roommate, he probably wouldn’t have managed to remember his schedule or even buy food. 

Luckily, he did make some friends while he was there. He chose to avoid most of the party scenes after being invited to one party and being hit on by multiple girls, but he found himself in plenty of study groups with other kids sharing his same struggles. He even met a few people who had loved ones off in the war and managed to bond with them over the shared situation. It was surprising, through all the stress, but Dan was somehow happy there. 

Despite his happiness at uni, Dan was even happier when his midterms were finished and it was time to go home for Christmas holiday.

When he pulled into the driveway, Hayden was waiting on the porch, bundled up in the cold. “Danny!” he shouted, and Dan was more than happy with the fact that he would never forget the joy on the child’s face. Dan jumped out of the truck and ran up to give him a hug. He’d gotten taller since Dan left. 

There was a certain warmth coming from the hug; he hadn’t left his brother since he was born, and reuniting with him after a few, long months was sweet enough that it materialized in warmth. 

Spending the holidays with Hayden and the family was nice, but being back in the house with nothing to do made it difficult not to think about Phil. Everything he did brought a sense of joy about him, even when it was negative, because he felt at home throughout it all, but he also felt a deep sadness he refused to acknowledge. Everything reminded him of both Hayden and Phil, and they just balanced out for him to have a decent holiday.

It was nice to head back up to the tree on the days when it wasn’t snowing or freezing; he even took Hayden with him so it would be just like the days of the past summer. On snowy days, he managed to have a snowball fight or two with Hayden, just as they did with Phil two years earlier. 

It was odd to think two years had passed; time was a bizarre construct that Dan had yet to figure out through the chaos. The day he first arrived two years earlier was one of the hardest for Dan to spend at the house, but he made it through. 

After a bittersweet few weeks, it was finally time for Dan to head back to uni. Dan and Hayden both were a bit less of wrecks that time, which comforted Dan plenty. Both knew it was time for Dan to go back to his adult life. 

It was about halfway through the spring semester when Dan was approached by the head of his dorm and told he was wanted by the president of the school. Dan was anxious as he approached the office, but it was significantly worse than he had thought. 

“Mr Howell, correct?” he asked, and Dan nodded. “We’ve received a call from a hospital in southwest England. Do you happen to have a brother named Hayden?” 

Dan’s heart raced. Hayden must have had an episode with his epilepsy. “Yes, sir; he’s my brother.” 

“He told the doctors to call you, and they called the university and told me to relay the message. He and who I assume are your parents were in a car crash last night. He’s alright, but your parents are in critical condition. I’m sorry.” 

Dan’s mind joined his heart in the race, and he hadn’t a clue what to say. “Thank you,” he muttered before blankly standing and walking out of the room. He had no memory of the latter of this interaction; he was buried in his own thoughts. 

Were they going to be alright? What would happen to Hayden if something happened to Margo and Harold? How could he ever tell Phil? What if Dan never got the chance to tell Margo how much she’d helped him after Phil left? Dan ran around campus to all his professors to tell them he’d have to go before frantically packing his things and hitting the road. He had to go home. 

He arrived at the same hospital where they’d taken Hayden for his past seizures and inquired a secretary near the front entrance as to whether or not the family was there. 

“Do you have Margo and Harold Lester?” he asked, eyes wide with anticipation and fear. 

“What’re they in for?” she asked in a careless voice. 

“They were in a car crash.” 

“Ask emergency.” 

Dan rolled his eyes and trekked to the emergency room, where he was told they’d been taken to intensive care. He finally made it to the ICU and the secretary there gave him a room number.

Margo and Harold were the only two in the room. The fact that Hayden didn’t have to be surrounded by complete strangers would have reassured him had he not been brought to tears just by the sight of them. It was barely possible to tell who they were; Harold was in a full body cast, and Margo had multiple casts on her body and even more bruises. A sob escaped his mouth as he looked at them; they were both unconscious. It was only a moment later when Dan realized Hayden was nowhere to be found. He was about to panic when a doctor walked in. 

“You must be Daniel,” the doctor said, looking down at his clipboard. 

“Yes, I am.” 

“Your brother is downstairs in the cafeteria. We’ve tried to find him somewhere else to go, but he refused to leave and had us call you. A nurse took him to get some food; they’ll be back soon.” 

“Thank you, doctor. What happened?” Dan gestured towards the beds, refusing to look back at them again. He couldn’t imagine Hayden having had to witness that tragedy occur.

“They were driving and were hit head on by a drunkard. The front half of the car was bashed in, and they were both hit hard. Your brother was in the backseat, so he was flung forward and hit the driver’s seat. He’s got a good few bruises, and he jammed his arm in between the seat and the door and broke it, but he’s generally doing alright. Obviously he’s already been discharged.”

Dan nodded, speechless. “Hayden!” he shouted as he saw the boy coming up behind the doctor. A nurse wandered behind him nonchalantly smoking a cigarette. 

“Oh, good, the brother. Finally.” She didn’t seem to care much. 

Dan tried to hug Hayden, but he winced, so he backed off. He took a step back and looked at his brother; he had a bandaged cut on his forehead and bruises on one arm and a cast on the other. Regardless, he was beaming. “It’s so good to see you.” 

The first night was the easiest; Dan took Hayden home and they packed him a hospital bag full of his favorite clothes, toys, and snacks. They spent the evening together in front of the radio, and Dan couldn’t help but feel odd being in the house without Margo and Harold. There was a certain emptiness about it he couldn’t quite describe. 

They slept at the house that night and drove back to the hospital in the morning. There was an unwritten agreement that they simply wouldn’t talk about the incident. Dan couldn’t imagine how Hayden was feeling; after all he’d been through, he ended up in a car accident watching the second set of parents he got nearly bleed to death. 

They arrived at the hospital to a doctor holding them out of the room. “Harold is having a bit of an...incident. Have you had breakfast yet? You should go get some breakfast.” 

“We’ve already eat-” Before Dan even had a chance to finish, the doctor whipped back around and rushed back into the room. Dan sighed and took Hayden’s hand. “Do you want some ice cream?” 

Dan didn’t love feeding his brother ice cream at 10:00 in the morning, but he assumed it was better than whatever was to be found in the hospital room. They came back upstairs two ice cream cones later to find Harold hooked up to a breathing machine. “Why don’t you find something fun to play with in your backpack?” he asked Hayden, and he nodded and went to the chair in the corner of the room, where he started looking through his bag for something to occupy him. “I’ll be right back.” 

Dan left the room and found the doctor he’d spoken to the day before. “What happened to him?” 

“They’re both suffering from a lot of internal bleeding, and his flared up. Neither of them are stable; if I’m being honest with you, I don’t know if they’ll make it through the day.” 

Dan took a deep breath and bit his lip, looking back at Hayden in the corner of Margo and Harold’s room. “Thank you.”

He turned on his heel and walked over to Hayden, who was playing solitaire. “Got room for another?” 

It was a slow day of card games and hospital food until Harold gasped. Both the boys jumped and turned to his bed, where he was writhing in pain. Dan turned to Hayden, who looked about ready to cry on the site. “Come on,” he said, pulling him out of the room. “Doctor!” 

They let the doctors rush past them in a second attempt to save Harold, and Hayden started to cry. “Danny, is he dying?” 

Dan took a split second to consider this question. “I don’t know,” he replied, and Hayden’s sobs got louder. His parenting skills could definitely use some work. “But it’s going to be okay, alright? We’ve gotten through a lot together over the years, and we’re going to get through this.” 

Hayden’s cries softened until they stopped, and Dan wiped the tears from his brother’s puppy dog eyes. “Okay.” 

A doctor came out of the room and threw his bloody gloves in a trash can. “I’m sorry,” he said to the two of them, putting on a sad face although Dan knew this wasn’t new to him, “he’s gone.” 

Dan took Hayden’s hand and led him in to where Harold lay lifeless. He had a bit of blood around his mouth, but otherwise he looked as normal as a dead person could. “Do you want to say goodbye?” 

Hayden held back tears this time, as if he’d accepted the situation. Dan was so numb by then that he couldn’t think or feel enough to cry. “Goodbye, Harold.” He stood there for a moment, taking and squeezing his limp hand. “Thank you.” 

Dan finally broke at that, holding back tears of his own. “Bye, then,” he said, smiling weakly at the man who took him in. He thought of the times he’d taken Dan out driving. “Thanks for everything.” 

The doctors took him away shortly after, stopping to tell Dan they expected Margo to follow. According to them, it wouldn’t be as violent, but she was doing gradually worse rather than better. Eventually, her body would simply stop functioning.

After Hayden fell asleep in the chair, Dan stood at Margo’s bedside clutching her hand. “Please don’t leave,” he whispered. “I just want to be able to tell you how much you matter to me. Never has anyone supported me as much as you, save for Phil and maybe Hayden. I thought it was impossible, but you truly took on the role of my mum while I’ve been away from her. I don’t know how to express how thankful I am for that.” He paused for a moment, looking up at her closed eyes. In the dark, she reminded him of Phil. “And thank you for giving me the love of my life.”

Dan soundly slept through the night; he must have been tired, as every logical position said he would have woken up multiple times either from situational anxiety or discomfort of the hospital floor. When he woke up, sun was shining through the windows, and Margo wasn’t breathing. 

He left Hayden asleep and got up to call a doctor in; they concluded that she didn’t have a pulse, and Dan woke up Hayden. “It’s time to say goodbye.” 

This was a rougher goodbye for the both of them; apparently Hayden had grown closer to Margo since Dan had left. When they eventually wheeled her out, Dan slid down against the wall, his head in his hands. He’d been expecting this result, and although they both cried over Margo, Dan’s thoughts were occupied mostly by something else.

“How am I going to tell Phil?” 

[baekthecorgi]

rewrite the stars (haechan) part i. genre: royalty au, slight fluff, angst summary: after 17 years of living normally, haechan receives a life-changing announcement waiting on his doorstep.

prologue. | part ii.

let’s get this on gurlies <3

it’s almost a month since you’ve last seen your best friend walk out of your doorstep

every friday night just wasn’t the same anymore

no one cuts your split ends during algebra

you don’t know why he does that but you kinda missed it :(

no haechan to fight with first thing in the morning

istg that boy’s voice shouting at 6am made you want to rip your hair off

no haechan to finish your food (sneakily ofc) during recess and lunch

no haechan to walk home with at 7:30pm sharp after he buys chocolate from 7/11

to which you grab and take a bite off lol

simply, no haechan.

it really sucks tbvh

the dreamies were confused as well

haechan doesn’t answer to all your calls and messages

you talked to mark privately, asking if he knew haechan’s whereabouts

but you were replied with an abrupt shrug and a confused expression

your classmates were wondering about the class clown too

once, after class, you approached your homeroom teacher and asked if he knew any news about haechan

(you haven’t seen his mom for the past weeks too)

were they abducted omg

your best friend might be in another dimension who knows ?????

your teacher simple shrugged

it was fishy but jeno told you to let it go

"it was probably nothing”

“i can read people’s faces, jeno. he knows something.”

“well, can you read my face”

“no, what does it say”

“it says ‘i’m hungry’ and we need to go to chenle’s place before he hides the chips, that selfish bastard”

all of you were at lele’s house, taking a breather from the midterms

you, alongside with jaemin and renjun, were preparing snacks for the kids

lol mark wyd

suddenly, chenle starts screaming his head off

or was he laughing at what he saw

but damn that kid is freaking loud

“HAECHAN IS ON THE NEWS I CAN’T BELIEVE”

“chenle, you really have to chill, dude,” jisung shoved the latter aside to see what chenle’s rambling about

“OH SHIT HE IS ON TV”

“thanks for the spit take, park jisung. now i have to take that stain off the carpet.”

the three of you rushed in front of the tv, quite dumbfounded by the news

you had a clue but this reassured you of what you thought

BREAKING NEWS: AFTER 18 YEARS, SOUTH KOREA’S MONARCHY IS ALIVE ONCE AGAIN

the dreamies were all ears on the news report and the interviews

the royal family held their very own press con regarding this matter

and haechan made this short speech proclaiming that he is prince donghyuck

the next heir to the throne

your best friend ?????

an heir ???? to the throne ????? of this country ?????

sokor will sUFFER 

just kidding

you have confidence in your best friend, duh

but you needed an explanation the very moment he steps into your line of sight

if you ever see him again sigh

renjun switches off the tv in disbelief

and mark just...laughs ????

“i knew it lmao”

renjun heaves a sigh, “i am honestly so confused”

mark asks, “remember that ring he swears his life upon”

“yeah, the eyesore?” jaemin responds

“yup, that’s the one”

chenle butts in the conversation, curious. “what does it have to do with this whole lost prince case?”

“if y’all were actually paying attention in your history classes, you would have figured it out by yourself,” mark says, matter-of-factly

within a split second, all your mouths were shaped like an ‘o’

history was boring until haechan was involved

“the ring the crowned prince wears,” jaemins adds before plopping his back on the sofa

jisung utters a soft, “i thought it was a cheap knockoff”

the next morning, you woke up to a pick-up truck parking in front of haechan’s house

bothered, you quickly got up on your feet and chased one of the workers to know exactly what the hell was going on

why the heck were they emptying your best friend’s house

you were ready to sue their asses

but, no, nOTHING

N O  A N S W E R S

you rode the bus all the way to school pondering on the recent events

your mind was losing its cool

you were so worried, so scared for him and his well-being

is haechan sleeping well? is he eating well? where exactly is he?

renjun was starting to look after you as well since you looked stressed out

he could tell from the bags starting to darken under your eyes

“hey, you okay there?” the auburn-haired chinese asks

“actually--”

“wHOAH IS THAT HAECHAN”

there goes zhong chenle

you didn’t know if it was because you ate so little the past few days but your knees suddenly grew weak

your knees match with the jelly you ate for dessert last night

haechan’s hair was jet black and you didn’t know what you were supposed to feel about that

i mean, he looks extra stunning cause it was a perfect fit with his uniform’s yellow blazer

haechan rarely styled his hair but 

god, those locks of hair curled neatly in different directions made you want to run your fingers on it

and you can feel your palms sweating heavily as haechan makes his way towards the dreamies’ tables

“can i sit here? the other tables are full”

haechan looks so soft and dream-like and ethereal and you’re making a fool of yourself cause you’re running out of adjectives to describe him

not to mention, haechan plastered a small smile for the ladies staring at his direction

haechan, being the big flirt he is, tidies his blazer a bit

ofc the girls all swooned was that even a question

cue the jealous you

jaemin smirks, “his ego is so visible; i can almost watch it grow”

“i’d carve that smile out of his face if it meant deflating his ego,” you mutter under your breath

“threatening me? already? how sweet”

you turn to haechan, arms crossed, right behind you

oH PLEASE SOMEONE NEEDS TO SAVE YOU

YOU ALMOST FORGOT TO BREATH

WHY WAS HE SO BREATHTAKING UP CLOSE ??????

?????????????

you composed yourself, rolling your eyes at your best friend while the other dreamies held back their giggles

they know lmao

they could see the invisible sweat rolling down your forehead

“you weren’t suposed to hear that. kidding aside, you look--”

handsome was the word but you said, “--nice, prince donghyuck”

“it’s still haechan for you but thanks, peasant”

you punched him on the arm

upon hearing your bones crack, haechan broke into a laugh

ah, yes, your best friend was definitely back alright

he loves seeing you suffer

you also like hearing his melodic laugh and that bright smile when he makes fun of you

have you ever noticed how long and perfectly curled his lashes were

oh and his lips look particularly pinkish today

very kissable

mark felt you lose yourself again with haechan beside you so he breaks the momentary silence

“bro, you have a lot of explaining to do”

“i know, i know. you missed me the most, didn’t you?”

“are you sure it’s me who missed you? the most????”

mark just had to emphasize

“i beg to differ,” chenle and jisung said in chorus

jisung practically gave you away

“ahhhhh, so it was this dork right here, huh?”

the dreamies being dreamies stifled their laughter

“i got you a present but it’s at the mansion”

“wow, my loser’s living at a mansion now”

“you heard jeno whisper to renjun, “she just said ‘my loser’. she is done for, i tell you.”

good thing haechan didn’t notice

“apparently, your loser is also a prince”

how wrong were you lol

“stop saying things like that, prince donghyuck,” you gushed playfully, “you’re making my heart race"

“maybe i like making your heart race”

“get out of here, you greasy cheeseball”

true to your words, your heart was actually starting to beat faster than normal

maybe it’s nice to assume that haechan likes making your heart race

renjun scooted closer to haechan, “kim yeri at six o’ clock”

or maybe not

note: idk what to say but thanks for all the new follows omg i hit 330 followers already??? ilysm guys !!! <3333 | send requests | masterlist

[wroteasongabouther]

fratboy!harry - part 17

so basically this was just going to be a blurb explaining alex and his relationship with y/n but it turned out to be like 5k words and good enough to be an official part so yeah enjoy lol -- give me feedback too!!

fratboy!harry tag >>> story page >>> pinterest inspiration board 

The morning was quick and loud, reminding you of when you were just a kid - right down to Bailey being stuck to your leg the whole time. Only thing missing was Luke. Nagging you to get out of the shower, to stop playing your crappy Bieber music too loud, and you nagging him for a ride to school while he steal your sandwich so you have to make a new one. That all stopped during your senior year of high school, yet sometimes it felt like just yesterday. Especially today as you drive your mom’s car just out of town to your dad’s house where he’s obviously still asleep as you pound on the front door.

Luke’s death only added onto the crap your dad was going through in life. Mom left him, got married and had another kid, then your grandparents died so he took their house for himself here surrounded by green forest, and then Luke passed. It broke him. You frown while leaning over to hit the doorbell again.

“Dad,” you call through the door.

You hear some mumbling before the front door opens up and reveals your father. A smile tugs on your lips at the sight of him, you’ve missed him. Dressed in an old tshirt and flannel pajama pants, he wipes sleep from his hooded hazel eyes and stares at you.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” He asks, confusion on his face as you walk into his house.

“Dad,” you sigh, “we talked last month, I texted you yesterday after I landed,” you exclaim while setting your bag down on the couch. You don’t miss the few dirty dishes on the coffee table or the open bag of chips on the far side of the couch. Still a mess it seems.

“Oh, right, right,” he mumbles and shuts the front door. “Let me just get dressed really quick, make yourself at home,” he calls while making his way back upstairs to where the master bedroom was located in the small home.

When you were like five years old, your parents had bought the house your mom currently lived in. It was a perfect home for a perfect family. Till the perfect family fell apart, the screaming and fighting and then the lawyers and packing. It was tough. Your dad lived in an apartment for the first year, it was small and cramped up, then your grandma died and one week later your grandpa did. Although you were sure your dad didn’t want to, he moved into his dead parents house and barely had time to remodel the old people feel to it. But you liked it, it was good for him.

After about ten minutes of scrolling on your phone, looking through Instagram and Snapchat, you dad reappears and offers you some coffee. You turn around on the couch and watch him walk through the dining room into the small kitchen.

“I’m alright, thanks though,” you say.

“I was thinking,” your dad pauses as he enters the room with a fresh mug of coffee after a minute, “we should invite Alex although today,” he smiles.

“Uh,” you pause and shrug a shoulder, “sure,” you nod.

“You know, him and his family had me over for Thanksgiving,”

“Yeah, he mentioned that,”

“You guys still talk?” Your dad raises a brow.

“Not like that dad,” you chuckle, “not anymore,” you add while picking at the loose thread on your jeans.

“Why not? You and Alex were good, you know what they day distance makes the heart grow fonder,” your dad says. You give him a small smile but shake your head at him. “Oh come on, kiddo, the guy still loves ya. Don’t think he ever hasn’t, even after Luke’s warning,” your dads smile doesn’t reach his smile this time. Mentioning Luke still felt like a knife to the chest. But his statement add to the ache in your chest. You had Harry now, not that your father knew just yet, but something told you when you mentioned it he was gonna frown and go off on how perfect Alex was for you.

“I’ll shot him a text,” you say and pat his knee as he drinks his coffee.

hey i’m in town, my dad wants to know if you’d like to join us for breakfast??

Hey! Sure, what time?

probably like 30ish minutes, at iHop?

By the shore?

yes

Kk meet you guys there

“Lucky for you,” you pause and look at your dad, “Alex actually woke up a decent time today,”

“Oh good, it’ll be just like before ya left,” he smiles before standing up and disposing of his mug in the kitchen. You force another tight smile while standing up from the couch and gathering your purse and your moms keys again.

“We should get going, did you want to drive?” you ask your dad.

“Sure,” he nods and finds his own keys on the mess of the coffee table. “Meant to clean this up last night,” he mumbles, but you are well aware he’s lying.

Driving in your dad’s work truck takes you back to your younger days. When you’d push in your Jonas Brothers CD, crank it loud, roll down the window and catch your dad singing along with you. Of course that would all stop once you guys picked Luke up from hockey practice and he winced till you turned off your music. Now, you sat in the front seat looking out the window at the ferry boats on the sea and enjoyed the bit of silence between your two.

“The kid beat us here,” your dad bellows as he passes the hostess and sees Alex seated at a table by the window.

You turn away from the smiling hostess - whom you recognized from school, maybe a year younger than you - and look to where your dad was walking off to. Alex stands from his seat as your dad approaches him. He’s wearing some blue jeans, white shirt and a grey zip up sweater over top - and you can tell he’s definitely been working out.

“Hey coach,” Alex grins while embracing your dad in a hug. As he is, he looks over your dad shoulder at sees you. You can’t help but blush under his stare.

“Oh quit calling my coach, would ya,” your dad teases him as their embrace comes to an end.

“You coached him since he was just a kid, dad,” you say while stepping forward and rolling your eyes at him. Your dad simply judges you before taking his seat. “Hey,” you smile at Alex.

“Hey,” he breathes out.

“Give me a hug,” you chuckle. As you wrap your arms around Alex’s torso and his fall around your too, you feel a sense of familiarity. This was what your later high school years were like, hugging Alex and smelling his musky cologne. He was your first love, and you never forgot a thing about your first love.

The hug ends, you smile up at Alex, then take a seat next to your dad while Alex sits across the table from the both of you. He really hadn’t changed that much in the few months since you’ve seen him last. But there’s a pang in your chest as he sits there, across the table from you, and you can’t really explain why you get that feeling. Alex was great, both as a person and to you. He had been best friends with Luke since they were just kids, became pretty much attached at the hip through their years growing up, which meant you saw a lot of Alex. It started off as some stupid little crush on the smiley brown haired messy boy. Then one day, he brushed his hand against yours in the bathroom between yours and Luke’s room, and the look in his eyes told you that he liked you too.

As your dad had pointed out earlier, Luke had warned Alex off as you got older and he noticed his best friend taking a liking to his little sister. But that didn’t stop Alex from asking you to be his date to his senior prom. Luke acted as though he hated it, but then he said he was sort of happy it was someone he trusted dating you instead of some other douchebag. Things weren’t always easy with you and Alex, but they lasted up till the winter of your senior year. He broke it off and the next time you saw him he had a black eye courtesy of your lovely big brother.

“How’s school?” Alex asks after the waitress takes your orders.

“It’s good, I aced my midterms, but let me tell you calculus freaking sticks,” you exclaim before taking a sip of your water.

“Always been the smart one,” your dad says, obviously not catching what he had said as he looks at the smaller promotion menu. But you and Alex catch it, looking at each other with tight smiles. Luke barely graduated. He and Alex skipped more classes than they’d like to admit. While you were a straight A student and your parents loved to brag about it.

“Thanks dad,” you say, “anyways, how’s school for you?”

“It’s fine, school sucks, you know,” Alex shrugs.

“You’re done upgrading, right?”

“Yeah, next semester I can start taking college courses,”

“Maybe you can go to Arizona State with Y/N,” your dad smiles.

You widen your eyes at the seriousness in your dads voice. He truly was the biggest fan of yours and Alex’s. He was just as heartbroken about your two breaking up as you were. You swear he had been playing the damn wedding already.

“I, uh,” Alex chuckles and his gaze falls to the table for a quick second, “I don’t know about that one, coach,”

“You’re telling me you never once thought about ASU? Especially with how much Luke mentioned it,” you dad says. You gaze down at your glass of water at the mention of your brothers again. Even after all this time, just hearing his name aloud makes your chest hurt.

“Exactly, ASU was always Luke’s plan, it was never mine,” Alex shrugs.

“Yeah, and you know I’m always the one stealing Luke’s ideas,” you joke, nudging your dad harshly with your elbow. He chuckles, nudging you back and your heart nearly bursts at the interaction. He seems better, which lets you finally breathe again instead of worrying about him all the time.

Your food is brought out to the table then, your mouth waters at the sight of your waffles covered with enormous glops of whipped cream and lots of strawberries. The moment the plate is placed in front of you you’re cutting a big bite and stuffing it into your face. It’s not till you’re half way through chewing, cutting off more and lifting it to your mouth, that you see Alex watching your every move.

“What?” you question, covering your mouth since it’s still full of food.

Alex just chuckles and shakes his head, “haven’t changed a bit,” he says.

“Shut it,” you narrow your eyes.

Some more conversation about life goes on through bites of food. Alex talks about his job, your dad chats about how his company is doing and the yard work he wants to get done. Of course Alex is a sweetheart and offers to give him a hand. The laughter and smiles, sitting with your dad and your ex boyfriend who’s still a great friend to you, this was exactly what you had hoped for this morning.

“Hey, tell me about that boyfriend of yours,” Alex teases as you all pick at the last bites on your plates. You nearly choke on your water, which only makes Alex’s smile grow.

“Boyfriend?” your dad questions, his voice both confused and upset. There goes his hopes and dreams of getting you and Alex back together.

“Uh, yeah,” you nod and set down your water, “his name is Harry,” you state.

“Had no idea you were seeing anyone,” your dad says.

“It’s been a few months, and you know when I told mom she wasn’t all that excited. Guess I just forgot to mention it to you,” you shrug.

“So, what’s he like?” you dad asks, having a bite of toast before looking to you. This was so weird. Talking about your current boyfriend with your ex boyfriend and your dad who didn’t really talk to your about your life. It was just weird.

“He’s great,” you nod, “he’s from the UK, studies computer sciences, is really sweet, treats me nice, an amazing soccer player,” you list off some things worthy enough to share with your company.

“Sounds like a decent guy,” your dad nods.

“Yeah,” Alex nods in agreement, “from your Snapchat stories and things, he seems really nice, Y/N,” he gives you a small smile.

“He is,” you mirror his smile. Then when you turn back to your dad who’s staring back at you, you feel like a little girl again as you pull out your phone and unlock it. “Wanna see a picture of us?”

“Sure,” he chuckles as you lean into your dad and bring up a photo you had of you and Harry on your camera roll. It’s in his Range Rover, you lifted the camera up high and snapped the photo one day as he stopped at a red light - turning to smile for the camera without a question before driving again. It makes you smile, totally forgetting about your first love sitting across the table.

Your dad pays for the whole bill, which Alex fuses over for a minute before you simply give him a look while getting up from the table. He pouts out a bottom lip and mouths ‘sorry’, and you swear you’re having deja vu - only this time you don’t walk up into his big chest and kiss his pouty lips.

“You know,” Alex pauses to hold the door open for the three of you, “you should come hangout tonight, we’re gonna drink at Stephan’s and then go out to The Black Dog,” he explains.

You glance over to see your dad getting into his truck while the two of you stop directly in front of the truck. A piece of you wants to say yes, but then another piece of you wants to say no. You run a hair through your hair and tug your cardigan around your body as a cold breeze blows by.

“Come,” Alex urges you.

“Okay, okay,” you chuckle. “Just text me later about it, my dad’s waiting,”

“Feels like I’m 18 again,” Alex smirks.

You roll your eyes and chuckle again, “I know what you mean,” you say.

“See you later,” he says, bringing his arms around you for a quick hug before you’re walking over to your dads truck and jumping in.

This morning went well, you think as your dad drives you two back towards his place. But now all you can think about was how tonight was going to go. Maybe agreeing to hangout with Alex and his friends, who were only yours because you were dating him and Luke was your brother, was a mistake. Guess you’ll have to wait and see.

“Oh shut up!”

“Yeah we missed you so much, it’s so great you’re back!”

“Oh, thanks,” you shrink back in the couch at Stephan’s house as Mary and Jill sit on either side of you, grinning since you arrived claiming there was too many guys around. They had been friends with Alex and Luke through high school, always the two girls that actually stuck around till you showed up upon the start of yours and Alex’s relationship. Then you two broke up and you rarely saw these two - till Luke passed away and your world took an entire 1-80.

Some people handle grieving well and you thought that you would be one of those people. Never did you think that you’d end up drinking your sorrows away, sleeping with your ex boyfriend again repeatedly and getting tattoos scattered over your body to reflect the pain you felt inside of you. But one day you sucked it all up, shipping yourself off to ASU and got your shit together - leaving everyone in Seattle behind.

“Here,” Alex walks up, his leg bumping into your knee, staring down at you while passing you an unopened cooler.

“Thanks,” you smile before he walks away again to where the boys were all hanging out.

“You know,” Mary pauses while leaning closer to you, “Alex really hasn’t dated anyone since you,”

“Yeah we’re pretty sure he’s still hung up on you,” Jill nods.

“Oh,” you breathe out, cracking open the cooler while glancing across the room where Alex stood. He looks over his shoulder and catches your stare, smiling before turning back to the guys and engaging in their conversation again. You shake your head and tilt your drink back to have a good hefty sip. You weren’t into Alex anymore, yeah a piece of you would always love him but that was because he was still your friend and he was Luke’s best friend throughout his entire life pretty much. But you weren’t in love with Alex anymore. You were pretty sure Harry filled that place in your heart now.

The bar sucked as much as it did when you were under aged and showing your fake to get in. You did have some fun on the small dance floor, Snapchatting some videos onto your story - you’d dance with the girls, lift up your drink and then smile at the camera before posting it. By midnight you had enough drinks and were damn tired too.

“You alright?” Alex asks as he joins you at the bar where you had taken a breather. You were just checking who had looked at your story, noticing Harry’s name near the top. It was morning across seas now.

“Yeah,” you smile towards Alex and rest your cheek in the palm of your hand.

“Tired out?” He chuckles.

“Yeah,” you repeat, letting out a sharp breath to blow away a strand of hair that was in front of your face.

“You’re having fun, right?” Alex furrows his brows before taking a sip of his beer.

“I am,” you nod, “I party like this almost every weekend now, don’t ya know, dating a bloody fratboy,” you chuckle and so does Alex at your shit British accent. Always liked to pull that one out while you were drunk.

“I’ve seen,” Alex says.

“Oh, speak of the devil!” You smile as you catch Harry’s name and face on the screen of your phone. Picking it up, you swipe your finger across the screen and lift it to your ear while plugging the other to block out the music and sounds around the bar. “Hey!” you say with utter excitement. You missed Harry.

“Hey,” he echoes, his voice less excited though.

You hold up a finger to Alex and walk towards the front doors of The Black Dog. “What’s up?” You ask.

“Just laying in bed,” Harry all but sighs out.

“Oh, another one of these calls, huh?” You tease.

“You’re drunk,” he states.

“Yeah,” you chuckle, “I’m just out with some old friends,” you add.

“Saw that,” he mumbles. Something was up, even in your drunk state you were catching onto his uneasy tone and short answers. You sigh and lean against the brick wall, shivering as the cold temperatures of Seattle hit you - you were only wearing a tube top and high waisted jeans. Not exactly ideal with the winter weathers here.

“What’s wrong?” You ask in a quiet voice, aware of the fact one of Alex’s buddies is smoking a few feet away from you.

“Nothing,” Harry answers.

“Really?” You’re annoyed now. “Just tell me what’s wrong, H,” you say.

“Who’s the guy? You’ve been Snapping him all day in your story,” he grunts. You recall Alex being in your snap of your waffles this morning, and then during the pre drinks at Stephan’s he was in the shot of you all lifting your drinks into the air. Finally there was the selfie you posted of you two, both puckering up for the camera just moments ago before you sat at the bar.

“My friend from home-“

“That’s rich,”

“You’re not even going to let me explain, really?” You shout out, Alex’s friend looks towards you now. You try to ignore him as he puts out his cigarette and walks back inside to leave you alone to shout at your boyfriend in peace.

“I’m supposed to just believe you’ve been drinkin’ and having breakfast with some old friend and that’s it,” Harry shouts back at you.

“You’re supposed to trust your damn girlfriend Harry!” You say, wanting to kick at the wall or throw your phone from the amount of anger pulsing through you.

“How do you think I feel waking up and watching my girlfriend with some guy I have no idea about, huh?” His voice is a bit quieter but it’s still laced with anger.

“Fine, want to know who Alex is?” Your stomach twists and turns from the frustration you’re feeling and maybe the ton of liquor you’ve had to drink too. “Alex is my ex, ok? He was a childish crush turned into my first fucking love, alright? He means a lot to me and is still one of my best fucking friends because-“ you swallow your words as you’re about to blabber on about how you’d always keep Alex as a friend because that’s what your brother would want. Telling Harry about Luke like this wasn’t how you wanted to tell him.

“Please, keep telling me about how much you still love you’re bloody ex boyfriend, little bird,” Harry hisses out the nickname like it’s venom on his lips. It breaks your heart.

You don’t respond right away, instead you breathe in till your chest feels tight and your eyes are watering. This was not how you wanted your night to go. A few tears fall down your cheeks as all the emotions you’ve felt the past twenty four hours hits you. Everything with Luke and with Alex and now Harry, it was too much.

“Y/N,” Harry’s voice is softer after the moment of quiet through the phone.

“Yeah,” you hiccup out the response.

“Y/N,” you turn around and see it’s Alex calling out your name this time. Harry stays quiet while you stare at Alex, keeping the phone pressed to your ear. “Did you want to go home?” He asks, eyes as soft as you needed them to be.

You nod at Alex, your bottom lip quivering as he steps closer. “I’ll call you later, Harry,” you say into the phone before hanging up and stepping into Alex’s open arms.

“Hey, hey, shhh, it’s okay,” Alex comforts you as you sob into his chest. Thank god he had changed into a black vneck instead of a white shirt so you didn’t stain it with your mascara.

“I—I can’t go home, Alex,” you gasp for air while the uncontrollable sobbing continues. You feel your phone buzzing in your jean pocket as you cry into Alex’s chest. With Harry’s words still fresh in your mind and the thoughts of Luke, you feel like you can’t breathe. You’d also blame it on the liquor. “His room is right there and I haven’t gone in yet and I want to but it’s too much-“ you break out into more sobs as you explain yourself to Alex.

“It’s okay, you can stay at my place if you want,” he mumbles into your hair as he hugs you. His body heat warms you up immediately.

“O—okay,” you hiccup.

Alex drops his arms from around you, only to grab ahold of your hand as you wipe your face with your other and he hails down a taxi. The two of you both get into the back seat and he gives the driver an address while he rubs his thumb on the back of your hand. You still feel like crying, but you can’t in the back of a taxi that’d be an all time low. You inhale sharply and then let out a sigh as your phone buzzed again. Alex tugs your arm gently till you are leaning against him and resting your head on his shoulder.

“It’ll be on debit,” Alex says as the taxi pulls up to his apartment building. Same place he’s lived at since he moved out after graduation.

You remember how Luke wanted to move out too but your mom told him he could live rent free and live his life as he wanted to since he was an adult as long as he was still respectful. He was of course, being her favourite child as always. Luke would crash on Alex’s couch some nights - he only slept over once when you had and that next morning was awkward enough to start communicating of when you’d be there overnight or not. Then you two broke up and Luke spent more time at home too. But of course bros will be bros and the bruise barely healed before they were cool again.

“Did you want anything?” Alex asks as he opens the door of his place. He leaves you behind in the small living room as he walks into the even smaller kitchen. “Water?”

“Please,” You croak out. Alex returns with a glass of water and hands it to you. You don’t waste a second before drinking half of it.

“Thirsty, hey?” Alex jokes.

“Yeah,” you hum. Your head hurts already, seems your hangover as arriving early since your boyfriend started a fight from over the ocean and you finally broke down about your brother in god knows how long.

“What happened back there? Seth came in, said you were shouting at someone on the phone,” Alex states.

“It was stupid, we’ll get over it tomorrow,” you mumble before finishing off your glass of water. “Always do,” you echo the words that were once said by Jess from the last fight you and Harry had.

“I think I have something for you to sleep in,” Alex says, respecting the fact you didn’t want to get into the conversation that was your boyfriend being a jealous dick. You follow him down the hallway to the bedroom, as he flicks the light on you see it’s recently been cleaned. Years ago you would’ve cleaned up around this apartment, done dishes and laundry downstairs with the coins he’d leave around.

“Thanks,” you whisper out as Alex sets down some old sweatpants and a tshirt on the bed.

Alex stands up straight, looking at you for a long moment. You keep the eye contact for much longer than you would’ve if you hadn’t been drinking tonight. He sighs and takes a step towards you, with his closeness you feel your chest tighten up.

“You were my first love too, you know,” Alex says softly as he reaches up and brushes a strand of hair behind your ear.

He had heard the end of your call with Harry. Your cheeks heat up instantly, causing Alex to chuckle. His smile is genuine and makes your lips tug upwards too. His hand cups the side of your face, he brushes the pad of his thumb just close to your lips and your skin tingles from the contact. For a moment you’re seventeen again and falling in love for the first time. But then as you notice Alex’s eyes drifting downwards, you snap back to reality - where you’re falling in love with someone else who’s currently in the UK and upset with you. You sigh and step out of Alex’s touch.

“I think I love Harry now,” you blurt out aloud of the first time.

“You don’t think so, Y/N,” Alex pauses as your eyes find his again and he shows you a small smile, “you love him, so tell him. Trust me, it’ll make the mans life a lot better,”

You nod your head, unsure of how to respond to him. There’s more behind his words. A hint of jealousy even. You swallow hard and look away from his stare again.

“You uh,” Alex pauses and you glance up at him, “you can sleep in here, I’ll take the couch,”

“I’m sorry,” you say.

Alex forces his smile, “it’s okay, just-“ he stops to think about his next words, “you’ll always be my best fucking friend too, Y/N,” he grins. You chuckle and shake your head at him before he walks towards the door.

“Goodnight,”

“Night, sleep tight,” he says before shutting the door behind him.

It’s not till you’re dressed in the clothes Alex had left for you, swimming in both the top and bottoms cause they’re so big, that you look at your phone. There was four texts from Harry and one from your mom. You open your moms first.

Where are you?

I’m spending the night at Alex’s, be home in the morning.

You know she’s have a few words for you tomorrow. But that was a problem for then, when she could call you a slut to your face for all you cared. As you said before, Luke was her favourite kid and that didn’t change after his passing. She’s always complain about you and look down on you for any choices you made. Especially spending the night at your ex boyfriends house without any context.

How do you expect to me act when you act like this??

This is bullshit and you fucking know it… please try and think of a good lie to tell me when we talk later for you hanging up on me for your ex

You’re making me crazy

Sleep with him and we’re over

Tears spill down your face as you read over Harry’s texts. You turn off the bedroom light and slowly make your way into Alex’s bed - very much alone - while imaging how upset Harry must be. This wasn’t how you wanted things to be. You didn’t want to fight with him during the holidays, you wanted him to trust you and understand things but you knew you needed to explain the whole story for him to get why Alex meant so much to you. You just didn���t use the right words tonight, and you’d blame the liquor for that one.

As you read them for a tenth time over again, you feel anger this time. Did he really think you’d cheat on him? After all the shit with Lindsey and with him reacting how he did with Thomas? Your chest aches while you type out your response.

I’d never do that. Never. Just fucking trust me for god sakes Harry. I’m going to sleep now.

You want to type out so much more. You want to type those three burning words. But you know if you were to send back everything you’re feeling, the sadness and the hurt and the anger, it’s only add fuel to the fire at this point. You sigh and wipe away your tears before setting your phone on the pillow beside you and rolling over to try and sleep. Thing was, the sheets spent so much like him. Like your first fucking love and your brothers best fucking friend. Your fists curl up with the blanket in your hands as you squeeze your eyes tightly. Everything hurts again.

[bonesofether]

Sides of a Storm

As always, if you want to read new chapters for this story early and much more, you can do so at my Patreon.

AO3✧Patreon✧Ko-Fi

Chapter #1: Programming Introductions

He had helped save the world from alien robots that had been determined to destroy Earth and turn all of its inhabitants into ash. His car, which had started out as a cheap Camaro from a used car lot, was an alien robot that could transform at will. He had even faced down the malicious leader of the Decepticons and lived.

And yet a simple Programming course threatened to be the end of him yet.

Sighing, Sam looked over the pages of his textbook for what seemed like the hundredth time, paying close attention to highlighted parts. He had gone out of his way to buy a used copy of the book, wanting to take advantage of the fact that previous students had done a bit of work for him. Not to mention that a used copy was a little cheaper.

In the other room, Sam could hear Leo talking excitedly with two of his friends about the alien robots that were still on Earth and the problems that this “Robowarrior” guy was giving them. Finding no answers in the midst of all the highlighted, programming code gibberish, Sam grumbled in frustration and began to flip through the pages rapidly. He wasn’t getting anywhere with this, but he knew someone, a former classmate from high school, that could help him out.

Or, with enough bribing, might even do the work for him. Sam just wasn’t sure if he wanted to risk it.

“Still working on that Programming homework?” Leo called from his makeshift computer lab.

“Yeah.” Sam sighed and flipped the book shut. “I’m going to go find Sophie and get her help. She understands this stuff way better than I do.”

“Sophie?” Leo poked his head around the doorway. “You mean the blonde with the lip piercing? Didn’t you say you went to high school or something with her?”

“Yeah. She and I are in this Programming class together,” Sam explained as he crammed his book and small folder with his homework papers into his backpack. “She’s a total tech head. I’m surprised you guys haven’t asked her to work overtime for you.”

“Uh, I already asked her, bro,” Leo muttered, glancing away. “She stared at me like I was speaking Swahili. Turns out she’s also a total hermit.”

“I don’t know if I’d go that far. She just...likes to keep to herself.”

“Yeah, well, if you don’t return, I’m not sending a rescue party in after you.”

Walking briskly down the dorm hallway, shrugging under the weight of his backpack, Sam couldn’t help the small grin on his face. Mikaela had texted him this morning, wishing him a good day and how she missed him already. Of course, Sam missed her, too. He had wanted her to come with him to college, but Mikaela had refused. She had explained that she had to help her father out and work at the garage that he was managing now. And while Sam understood, it didn’t make the being thousands of miles apart any easier.

Nearing the dormitory building, Sam jogged the last bit across the green grass of one of the campus yards. He hoped that Sophie remembered him. Sure, they’d spoken some in the Programming class they shared, but it had been little more than polite conversation. And they hadn’t exactly been the best of friends in high school.

At least he’d been able to get her phone number and dorm room number.

Arriving at the door, Sam double-checked to make sure that the number was correct. Then, trying to seem as casual as possible, he knocked on the door. In the middle of the third knock, the door swung open and Sam found himself being glared at by his Programming 110 classmate.

“Uh, hey,” Sam said weakly, his composure faltering a little.

Sophie continued to frown back at him, then raised an eyebrow.

“Sam?” she asked, scrunching up her nose.

“Yeah. Sam Witwicky. We share that Programming class together, remember?”

“Yes. I remember. We had that class yesterday.”

“Oh, yeah. That’s right.”

Sam trailed off and the two stood there in silence for a couple minutes before Sophie gave Sam an expectant look. She was still holding the door halfway closed, and was thoroughly confused as to why her former high school classmate had sought her out.

“So, uh… What do you want?” she asked impatiently.

“Oh, right!” Sam said. He hesitated briefly, but decided he had to at least ask. Maybe he should have texted before he showed up. “You remember how you said I could ask for help with my homework if I needed it?”

“Yeah. I was kind of expecting you to ask for help on something like the midterms or final.”

“Well, my degree isn’t in IT, you know,” Sam muttered, running through his fingers quickly. “And...yours is.”

Sighing and rolling her blue eyes, Sophie nodded and stepped aside, opening the door completely. She motioned for Sam to come inside, kicking a small pile of clothes under her bed as she went. Muttering something under her breath and combing back her bleached blonde hair with her fingers, Sophie began to move aside textbooks and papers on the college provided computer desk.

“So what’re you having problems with?” Sophie asked without looking up.

“Just the homework.”

Stopping and then slowly looking over at Sam with an incredulous gaze, Sophie started to say something, then fell quiet. She tried again, but still couldn’t find the words she was looking for. Finally, though…

“You mean the introduction to Programming 110? The absolute basics of the basics?”

“Yeah. And before you say anything, this is why I’m getting a degree in the Political Sciences field.”

“Fortunately for the rest of us.”

Giving Sophie a frustrated look, Sam decided not to comment on what had just been said and instead fished his textbook and folder out of his backpack. He had been expecting this, more or less. Sophie had always had a rather frictional personality, even with those that she called friends. At least she was willing to help him, and he certainly couldn’t complain about that.

The hangar was practically alive with commotion and orders being given on the overhead speakers as the massive C-5 Galaxies were being loaded. Decepticons had been spotted in Shanghai, and N.E.S.T. and the Autobots had to move fast to neutralize the threat before the Decepticons did any more damage.

Peering down the sight of his modified M16A4, Major Lennox gave the grip a testing squeeze. Ever since they had started engaging Cybertronian enemies, their weaponry had, understandably, gotten a major overhaul. The assault rifles hadn’t been excluded, and were now augmented with high-powered impact rounds that were supposed to penetrate Cybertronian armor. Even then, though, Lennox had seen some Decepticons shrug the shots off like they were little more than a tickle.

A loud crash that rattled through the hangar, quickly followed by two arguing voices, snapped Lennox out of his thoughts. He looked up to see Mudflap and Skids bickering, each trying to hit the other with pieces of scrap metal that they had managed to procure. Though he couldn’t hear everything that was said, Lennox was able to figure out that the twins were upset about being an ice cream van.

“Hey, where’s Prime?” Mudflap yelled, noticing Lennox.

Glancing around, the Major started to respond, but was cut off when Skids interrupted.

“Yeah. We wanna’ know why we gotta’ be some scrappy-looking ice cream truck.”

“Well-” That was as far as Lennox got.

“We wanna’ be something faster!”

“If you two went any faster,” Ironhide interjected steely, walking over to the squabbling twins, “we might mistake you for annoying gnats and blast you both.”

“Hey, hey, cool the cannons there,” Mudflap said quickly, holding up his hands as he and his sibling backed away. “We were just asking. Ice cream truck sounds good for us, though.”

Despite Mudflap’s words, the moment the twins were out of earshot of both Ironhide and Lennox, they appeared to resume their bickering. Ventilating an exasperated sigh as he shook his helm, Ironhide looked back to Lennox. The Major was watching the two squabbling Autobots with a doubtful gaze, then scoffed and grinned up at Ironhide.

“Do those two ever stop arguing?”

“Not that I have ever seen,��� Ironhide grumbled, glancing over at the two. “I wouldn’t be surprised if those two have been arguing since the day they were created.”

“And yet they’re twins,” Lennox commented lightly, looking down the sights of his assault rifle once more.

“Don’t remind me that there’s two of them.”

The jet ride was fortunately smooth enough, even with the turbulence that the storm that had started to brew over Shanghai. The inside of the jet had been relatively quiet, too, with the only real noises being the creaking of the jet along with idle chit chat amongst the soldiers. The Autobots, however, had been almost completely silent, and only spoke when spoken to.

Lennox glanced around at the soldiers, mentally hoping that they all made it through the fight. They all knew what Decepticons could do, and some had even seen the devastation first hand. Decepticons didn’t view humans in the same light that Autobots did. To Decepticons, humans were little more than insects that were in the way. Yes, they were living, but they were numerous and without individuality. There was rarely a second thought given when a Decepticon ended a human life.

“Sir?”

Pulled out of his thoughts, Lennox looked over at the soldier that had spoken up. It was one of the newer recruits, one of the soldiers that, for now, hadn’t seen what Decepticons could do firsthand. Nonetheless, Lennox recognized the soldier as being one of the men that had readily volunteered. They’d been incredibly proud of the N.E.S.T. emblem that they now wore on their uniform, but there was no mistaking the obvious nervousness that was written on the young man’s features.

“Williams,” Lennox replied with an acknowledging nod. “What is it?”

“These Decepticons… We’re looking at two, right?”

“Two have been confirmed. There could possibly be more. That’s why we’re bringing our own bots to the playing field.”

Lennox grinned and motioned to where Ironhide and Sideswipe were parked in the C-5. Both Autobots had been chained down for their own benefit, so as to keep them from rolling around as the C-5 flew around. Williams looked over at the two Autobots, then gave Lennox a wary smile before sighing and slouching back in his seat. The Major watched them for a few moments before looking down at the floor beneath him. He was probably just as nervous as the recruit was, but he was better at hiding it.

With a short burst of static, one of the pilots spoke through the overhead speaker, announcing that they were entering Shanghai airspace. Lennox took a deep breath and focused, gathering up his composure as he looked up to address the rest of the soldiers. Despite how nervous he might be, he wasn’t about to let it show through.

“All right, boys,” Lennox stated firmly. “This is what we trained for and what you’re here for. It’s time to go Decepticon hunting.”

After about forty-five minutes of Sophie trying to explain the basics of programming to Sam, he realized that while she was speaking English, he hadn’t understood a word of what she’d said. Given the fact that she was repeating herself and giving Sam an exasperated look, he safely guessed that she was realizing the same thing. He’d be lucky to pass the class with a C at this rate.

“Are you sure you need this class as a prerequisite?” Sophie asked, looking over the pages of Sam’s textbook. “Could you maybe take something else? Like...something easier?”

“What would be easier than this? My advisor said this was a ‘guaranteed A’.”

“Well, technically it should be…,” Sophie commented, trailing off. She picked up one of Sam’s homework papers and glanced over the answers that he had scribbled down. After a moment, she grimaced before setting aside the paper. “But your advisor may have been stoned when they told you that.”

“Great,” Sam muttered, thunking his head down on his textbook. “I’m never going to graduate thanks to this one class.”

“Like hell you’re not. You’re passing this class if I have to drag you kicking and screaming. I just can’t promise you an A.”

The brief thought of Sophie dragging him down the hallway to his Programming class while he kicked and screamed crossed Sam’s mind, and he had to stifle a snicker. It also reminded him that Leo had managed to rope him into going to a party that evening. While Sam still wasn’t sure how and why he had agreed to go, he knew he was going, nonetheless.

Then a thought crossed his mind.

“Hey, you want to go to a party?” Sam asked suddenly, looking over at Sophie.

There was a long pause of Sophie staring back at Sam, and then she began to break into a fit of muffled giggles. The giggling eventually became full blown laughter, and Sophie had to fan herself to keep the tears at bay. When she finally composed herself, Sam was giving her a very unamused look and was now leaning back in his seat with his arms crossed.

“Are you serious?” Sophie gasped through the last bits of her giggles.

“Yeah. Yeah, I am. I’m supposed to go with my roommate, but ten bucks says that he leaves me to fly solo and I don’t really want to be stuck around a bunch of people that I don’t know.”

“So, why did you agree to go in the first place?”

“Because he asked me to.”

“So back out.”

“I can’t really do that. He’d never let me live it down and may I remind you that he is my roommate.”

There was a pause, then Sophie gave Sam a level, narrow-eyed look.

“I’m not going to pretend to be your girlfriend.”

“What? No, no, no!” Attempting to brush off the sudden outburst, Sam leaned back in the chair as coolly as he could manage. “Besides, I have a girlfriend, remember?”

“I’m trying to forget. I can’t believe you’re still with Mikaela.”

“Why don’t you like her? What did she ever do to you?”

“I don’t have a problem with her,” Sophie replied with a quick shrug. “She was just always one of those popular and pretty girls. I...was not. I don’t know what she sees in you.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“And she knows how to hotwire vehicles. I do not.”

“So you’re jealous?”

“That. And I’m afraid she might steal my car.” Sophie stopped, then grinned at Sam. “Do you still have that sleek Camaro? You know, the yellow one with the black stripes?”

Bumblebee.

Sam sighed inwardly. He missed his friend, but he hadn’t really had a choice. The college campus forbid first-year students from having vehicles. Nonetheless, he still felt bad about leaving Bumblebee behind.

“Yeah, but I had to leave it at my parents.”

“Aw, bummer.”

“But I couldn’t even though I wanted to. First-year students can’t bring their own vehicles, remember?”

“Oh, yeah. Such a bullshit rule.” Sophie shook her head. “You still should have tried to sneak it in. How do you know your parents aren’t out doing donuts or dragging main in it?”

The idea of his parents doing anything more than 5 miles per hour in a school zone while driving Bumblebee was foreign enough to be on the line of pure hilarity. Sam couldn’t help but snicker as he shook his head. To their credit, though, his parents had promised to take care of Bumblebee and let him out for a drive when needed.

“I’m pretty sure they’re leaving my car alone.”

“I don’t know. I know I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off a car like that.” Sophie was digging around underneath her bed as she spoke, obviously looking for something. “Where are-hey! There they are!”

Sophie then hoisted up a pair of combat boots, grinning as though she’d managed to catch a wild animal.

“Are those even safe to wear?”

“Ha, ha. You’re hilarious,” Sophie grumbled, setting aside the shoes. “Fine. I’ll go to this party, simply because you’re bound to get yourself into trouble and there’s probably going to be free alcohol.”

“Aren’t you kind of an aggressive drunk?”

“Maybe,” Sophie replied with a shrug.

“And weren’t you also one of the star rugby players at our high school?”

“Yeah,” Sophie answered with a smug grin.

“So I’m going to have an aggressive drunk, ex-rugby player as a party friend?”

“Do you want me to go or not?”

Sam just sighed and nodded, already beginning to wonder if he’d made a very big mistake.

In a matter of mere minutes, the construction site had been turned into a war zone that had been utterly destroyed. Debris still smoldered as ash and smoke flitted around in the air while soldiers helped carry the wounded or dead back to transport vehicles. Optimus watched with a somber gaze as two soldiers helped a wounded comrade limp to a waiting jeep, but his thoughts were on the cryptic warning that one of the dying Decepticons had given.

The Fallen.

Frowning, the Prime turned his attention back to the Decepticon’s corpse. The message had been cryptic enough, and Optimus knew that whatever the Decepticons were preparing for was only going to put more strain on the alliance between the humans and the Autobots. It was both frustrating and disheartening that as things got worse, it seemed that communications and cooperation broke down.

“You’re awfully quiet.”

Ironhide’s voice brought Optimus out of his thoughts, and the Prime glanced over at the weapons specialist. He recognized the concerned expression that Ironhide was giving him, and Optimus ventilated a short sigh as he turned his attention back to the Decepticon corpse. He had to do something to keep the human-Autobot alliance strong in the face of the oncoming threat.

“I need to speak with Sam Witwicky,” Optimus finally answered, walking back to the landing area that N.E.S.T. had designated for the C-5s.

“The boy?” Ironhide queried, sounding surprised. “What for?”

“I fear that the alliance we have with the humans is about to be tested,” Optimus answered, gazing out at the Shanghai skyline. “Sam has worked with the Autobots before, and he knows, better than most, of our resolve to help the humans. The humans in power, however, do not. The Autobots are going to need help in convincing those humans of our resolve, and I believe that Sam can help.”

Snorting slightly in muted derision, Ironhide looked back to where the C-5s were landing. Personally, he thought it would be far better to have someone with more experience, such as Lennox or Epps, speak to the humans that were in power. And if they still wouldn’t listen, then perhaps their minds would change if they were left to face the Decepticons alone even once.

But Prime was insistent that the humans needed their help, and Ironhide wasn’t going to argue.

“Alright, gentlemen,” Lennox called out as he walked up to the two Autobots. “We’re packing up and shipping out. The clean up crew is coming in and you know how picky they can get. If we’re lucky, we’ll be back at the base in time for lunch.”

“So long as you’re not cooking, Major, I’ll call it good,” Williams commented as he walked by.

“Very funny, recruit. Keep it up and you’ll be on janitorial duty for a week,” Lennox replied with a grin. Despite his threat of clean up duty, the Major was glad that the recruit had made it through the fight with only a few cuts and bruises.

Watching as Williams darted off, Ironhide shook his helm. He still didn’t understand the humans’ fascination with insulting each other’s ability to cook. It seemed rather infantile to him, but it kept the humans in good enough spirits. So, as odd as it may have been, Ironhide supposed the banter had its place.

Now to see if Sam would be willing to once more take up his place in assisting the Autobots again.

[ilovecarrots23]

Narrative #1: There Ain’t no Rest for the Wicked (Chapter 1)

“Why?” he asks for the fourteenth time in a row.

“‘Cause,” I answer, weakly.

He sighs and looked out of the car window, obviously unhappy with my explanation. I just keep driving, too exhausted to put any more effort into formulating words he would hear but not listen to.

“You’re annoying. Ya know that?” he continues, as he scrolls through his phone vacantly. I glance over hoping to see that playful smile I’ve come to love, only to be met by a heavy grimace. Oh my god he’s not joking, he’s actually angry.

“Jake, I’m sorry okay? But there’s nothin’ I can do ‘bout it. I told you, I have a midterm tomorrow there’s no way I can skip class,” I attempt to explain again, hoping he’ll show me the least bit of understanding.

“Whatever, Meredith. Go to your class. Miss out on the biggest job we’ve ever had,” he retorts.

I should’ve known it’d be a lost cause to get him to show compassion. Jake had never been compassionate, he was always selfish and sulky. That’s who he is and I love him for it, but it makes things harder sometimes.

“I don’t understand why it has to be tomorrow,” I point out, “can’t we just do it another day?”

“No, it needs to be tomorrow ‘cause I need this money,” he admits.

I sigh in defeat, “Okay, I guess can skip my midterm and tell the professor I had an emergency and ask for a makeup.”

“Meredith Jones you beautiful genius, this is why I love you,” he smiles for the first time in the entire conversation.

“Jake Miller you are corrupting me,” I joke as I pull up to the curb beside his house.

“It’s what I do best, baby.” He leans over and kisses me then hops out of the truck and waves goodbye. Even after being together for 3 years, I still get sad watching him walk away.

I wake up the next morning and start getting ready for the job. We’ve never done anything this big before and admittedly I’m a little nervous. I walk out to my truck and replace the license plate with a slip of paper that reads International Auto Dealership. Preparing for jobs has become a comfortable routine, which only slightly bothers me morally.

I pull up to Jake’s house and he gets in, black duffle bag in hand. It’s a 10 minute drive to First Tennessee Bank, and with every minute that passes my heart beats faster and faster, realizing how serious this is.

“J, are you sure about this? The bank’s got all those fancy security cameras and police call buttons, maybe we should wait on this and just visit Main St. like usual,” I suggest.

“Don’t be nervous, it’s gonna be fine. We’re the best at what we do baby, just remember that.”

He takes my hand in his attempting to reassure me but it doesn’t help much considering what’s at stake. Our usual petty theft is one thing, but robbing a bank? I drive into the parking lot and pull the truck to a stop at the curb right out front. We both put on our masks and he turns to look at me.

“Don’t be scared, we’re gonna score big today. Now, just keep her running and I’ll be right back, okay?” His voice was so calm I began to wonder if he’d done this before, without me.

I nod my head and watch as he shuts the truck’s heavy metal door and enters the bank’s glass doors. As soon as they shut the sunlight hits them and blinds me. All that’s left to do is wait. Well, wait and stress. Who have I become? How did I get here? Robbing a bank with my boyfriend. It’s absurd.

Before I was with Jake I was a completely different person. I got straight A’s in school, never talked back to my parents, went to church every sunday, and volunteered for community beautification once a month. I met him at the end of senior year and my first impression of him was that he was a slacker and a scumbag. He’d always be eyeing up girls, making awful derogatory comments. Needless to say, I wanted nothing to do with him.

But one day I saw him while walking down the hall, we made eye contact, and I just felt something I hadn’t before. I like to think it was love at first sight but Jake hates when I say that, he says such a thing doesn’t exist. I just remember the way I felt staring into his green eyes and I know I’d call it love. However, while I was distracted by those eyes I tripped but he immediately walked over and helped me up. It was the first nice thing I’d ever seen him do. He saw I scraped my leg and walked me to the nurse, and any preconceived idea I had of him disappeared completely.

Next thing I know, we’ve been going steady for three months and he says he wants to show me one of his hobbies. He takes me to Main St., one of the busiest streets in Nashville, with tons of shops and people. As we’re walking, he bumps into a man and grabs my hand as he apologizes and hurriedly turns the corner, pulling an unfamiliar wallet out of his pocket. I was horrified that he called this a hobby, and it was something he did regularly. I still remember what he said, “It ain’t hurtin’ nobody, darlin’. You saw that man back there, right? Fancy coat, fancy shoes, he’s got enough money. I only take from folks who do.”

I contemplated turning him in, but something about him just drew me in and made me want to stay. My whole life I’d always done what I was told, but he was the complete opposite. Everything about him was dangerous, and I liked the way it felt. So, I became his partner. For the past 3 years we’ve been together, we’ve gone from pickpocketing to dining and dashing to stealing from gas stations and now this. Robbing a bank. I wasn’t sure I was ready for this but it’s too late to turn back now.

The glass doors swing open and Jake runs out, dollar bills flying from the heaping duffle bag. He jumps in, and I stomp on the gas pedal before he even shuts his door.

“WOOOHOOO! That’s what I’m talkin’ ‘bout baby! I told you we the best in the biz and you ain’t got nothin’ to worry ‘bout!” he shouts gleefully.

“Don’t get too excited, we ain’t home yet.”

“Aww, come on sweety. We got a bag with stacks of hundreds and each other. We’re gonna be just fine.”

I keep driving as the sound of sirens blare in the distance. Weirdly, I can’t stop a small smile from forming on my face.