#the entire 100th: yeah get in fucking line

[rosiesriiveters]

i so wish we got more buck/bucky/rosie dynamics. rosie is calm, a little shy, and can be as guarded as buck is, but he's also a Goof Ball and would actively endorse (and be involved in) bucky's musical escapades. I think that dynamic would be incredibly funny. rosie adores buck and bucky and deeply respects them and maybe even seeks them out for advice sometimes; but even buck squared is not immune to the Rosie Effect (falling in love with him)

[precious-little-scoundrel]

do have any rosie headcanons? especially erm, ahem, *spicy* ones? (asking for a friend, plz/thanks)

Oh Nonnie, don’t I just! come on into the pillow fort, (don’t forget to bring your friend) and be careful not to crush Meatball’s paws.

Massive amounts of gratitude to my darling friends who contributed so very much found herein, some aspects word for word, and who are always there in my hour of need: @suraemoon @faegoddessog

Well hello hello. Is this a requested description or a love letter? Legit don’t know but here goes…

Cock-versations || Major Robert “Rosie” Rosenthal edition 🥇

nsfw (AF!!) below the cut

General Remarks: let’s just start this off with some entirely accurate blanket statement like- “this is the prettiest cock in the 100th.” Yeah we could get in the weeds and start measuring everyone up to see if The Nazi Prosecutor and Legendary Pilot of 52 missions and the 100th’s beloved Step Dad(dy) Who Stepped tf Up is indeed the biggest, but like, why? Because what we know without that experiment (although Lordy, what an experiment that would be??) is that this man knows how to use what he’s got. And what he’s got is substantial. Must I go on to euphemize the whole “piloting a school bus like a fighter jet?”

Sordid Details: Rosie stands for something else besides shortening that name, ok? This color is like…like Monet specifically invented it for the perfect shade to paint his waterlily and for the gorgeous and graduated pink hues of Major Rosenthal’s cock leading to the impossibly wide mushroom head that’s situated on a very plush pink base that’s almost as wide as it is long and so is in danger of appearing mildly shorter at times? but that’s mostly an optical illusion due to the girth. Yes we said Gale is packing the perfect dildo cock but beauty is in the eye of the beholder and so at a certain point one must ask: for some of us, doesn’t a little individuality almost add to the beauty than subtract? Such is the case with the Rosie Cock, it’s just special enough you could pick it outta a lineup but it also doesn’t look so unforgettable as to be mistaken for an elephant trunk or a betting pencil.

For your endearing consideration: beyond being the prettiest color and the most deliciously sized appendage, this man also takes care in his appearance, those short and curlies are kept nice and trimmed for your ultimate sucking pleasure and the pubes are a little surprise in themselves as, rather like his mustache, they have dark roots but there’s a definite glint of ginger to them when you get them out into the bright sunlight or when the sun is really pouring into the window. So, your assignment is to 1. outdoor sex, romantic picnic or lounge chair by the pool it don’t matter just no fox hunting. 2. Let this man throw the covers off after a night of passion and then you yourself wake up early enough to survey the landscape of him, as it were, i swear the prettiness will take your breath away

A Note on the Wielder of the Weapon: back to the whole piloting a school bus like a fighter jet… He’s packing but he’s not a pummeling packing sorta guy like dear Egan who will bully his receivers into orgasms, or Cleven who will soberly and expertly dish them out like they are communion wafers to be reverently accepted. Rosie, no, see, he’s both generous and also -fun. He’s a dork, he laughs when he shouldn’t and trains in his underwear -but one of those times to laugh is sex!! a little levity never hurt sexy times and some of the most truly romantic sex is fond and giggly while also full of expertise, passion and hours and hours of this man wooing the fuck outta you like you’re not already signed sealed and delivered as his. This is the sorta man to be able to line up y’all’s eyes, noses and lips all while undulating like a damn dolphin at the hips.

Finesse, my friends, finesse.

Twinkle Toes aspect: such a fucking tease and a dork at times, as we’ve mentioned. Also between his crazy eyes and his lawyerly self assurance, this man has terrifying capabilities to turn his virtues into villainous weapons. See: gaslighting. He can make you feel nuts for thinking he’s teasing the fuck outta you when he’s just been sitting here with colleagues. (Honestly? This could get intense but that’s for a darker fic at another time.) But to keep it chill and more in character, let us just say you’ve gotta be ready to be wooed for hours on end, and that’s not for the faint of heart. Neither is being discreetly fingered in front of his prestigious associates at dinner or in the elevator. Because he does that, so subtle and yet so intense. He’s 100% a “feral for no panties under that skirt” kinda guy, all the house chores he so sexily helps out with also means he can hide your underwear like a pro just in time for an outing.

In short: he’s all about sex all the time, but not in the rabbit-like aspect of some of his fellows, doing dishes is a natural form of foreplay for this man, he understands the inner workings of arousal, it’s on his mind all the time but it doesn’t mean he’s doing it all the time, and in fact, this is one of the few men who could put it in you for a few strokes, bent over the hood of his Chrysler after dancing and drinks, only as a means to tease you and then put himself back in his trousers and drive home while you get so desperate you actually start calling him Daddy. -not in the modern weird way (no shade but it stands) but in that 40’s sorta way, (which has layers of its own).

If ya know, then ya know.

One more addendum: once he’s inside you, this man’s face displays every wondrous, anticipatory, contemplative and blissful emotion that is part of the orgasmic journey, he also cums an extraordinary amount, you’ll think he’s done at last and NOPE, here comes another rope of the thick stuff. Which means that after the frantic over-the-edge-first-wave-of-cumming bit, he’ll open his eyes again and smile down at you as he works the rest out in a more measured but very lethal way, if you’ve not cum yet or are about to again, this is when he gets you and it’s made so much worse/better because of all the hot and slick stuff he just deposited 🥰 also…humming

[sasquatchboobs]

I'm honestly not sure if I'm bad at conversation skills or if we just have incompatible conversation styles. I often do like talking with him, but it often frustrates me as well. It feels like he will stop talking to allow me to respond, but instead of listening to what I say, he spends that time formulating what else he wants to say, without hearing or considering my words at all. So the "conversation," if transcribed, would read more like a monologue by him that I occasionally interrupted before he continues with his points, unchanged by whatever I said.

Then, if he does actually hear what I say, instead of understanding that I am "Yes and"-ing his point and adding on or developing his line of thought, he will almost always respond "No, what I was moreso saying was..." and just repeat his point. Like he gets annoyed that I have anything different to say that's not just affirming he's correct. And then needs to reiterate his point, because obviously I didn't understand his correctness the first time or I would have responded "Yes you're right" and nothing more.

Like, for a super simplified example, if he said "I really like oranges, the juice inside is so sweet" and I responded, "yeah, and I like the smell of the skin when you peel it, my hands smell so nice afterwards" he would say "no, I was moreso talking about the taste, not the smell, I like the taste-" and I would say "Yeah, you're right, they taste good." Just imagine that, but talking about biodiversity loss, or the war in Ukraine, or the plot of a movie we just watched, or almost anything really. This is often the pattern.

He just seems to want to talk at me, and for me to be his fawning and affirming audience, who occasionally asks probing questions, but doesn't expect equal talk time. I just want him to engage with the things that I say, because other people seem to think I have valuable insights and perspectives. But I should expect more than that; why does he get to lead almost every conversation, that if try and take on a tangent, he swiftly course-corrects me back to *his* point? Even if I started the conversation, he will go on a tangent, and then get annoyed if I do the same to him, and bring it back to my point, which he both interrupted me in the middle of and didn't really engage with?

And that's not to mention the fact that he talks over everything we watch. I am not exaggerating when I say everything. I pause it when he starts speaking, but he literally won't allow a YouTube video to play for 15 whole seconds before he launches on a 10-minute monologue on what he thinks the video will be about, his speculations on the causes or themes, and to generally knowledge dump anything he knows that could be tangentially related to the video title. It often takes somewhere between half an hour to an hour to watch a 15-minute YouTube video with him in the room, because I have to pause it every time he wants to say something. Which is very often. "Maybe if you didn't pause it, he wouldn't talk for so long?" Ha! I learned early on that he will just talk nonstop over an entire episode of a TV show, and not understand why I would want to watch that episode again (I didn't hear a single line of dialogue the whole time!).

He has expressed to me that I should put more importance on what he has to say than whatever's on TV, because he's a real person. And he's not wrong, but I wish he would respect that sometimes I want to hear the fucking video I picked because it's important to me, and whatever dumb joke about his dick he's making for the 100th time just, isn't fucking necessary or important?? And I don't think it's too much to ask to be able to watch just one 5-minute video without 7 interruptions, which I barely even get to participate in, it's literally just him talking by himself.

I express on a regular basis that I just. Cannot. Hear two things at once. If you talk over loud music I cannot hear you. If you talk over the show I cannot hear you or the show, I just get overstimulated. And he does not listen or take this into account, even gets mad at me sometimes for "not listening"! Not listening?? I can't hear you! I try my best to listen to you every waking moment we are together!

A few months ago he told me that I do 95% of the talking in our relationship. I laughed out loud, this man has NO IDEA how long he goes on for. Already today (it's not even noon yet) the TV WENT TO SLEEP during a paused YouTube video because he was monologuing; the TV only goes to sleep after 20 minutes of no activity. So that means he went on for more than 20 minutes by himself. I mean, I know he talks a lot, but it also helped that we had a roommate for a year that confirmed for me that he really does 90% of the talking in our relationship; they are good friends but even she called him a "very talky boy" and would even interject if we were all talking and he interrupted me, cause she noticed he doesn't often let me finish my thoughts.

He's spending more and more time on his days off in the office, while I'm in the living room. I feel like he gets the vibe that I'm annoyed with him and want quiet. And... It's not all bad, honestly. I like having silence in the morning, I like it being quiet enough to read. When I picture my ideal life it includes a quiet morning with coffee and a book, not a morning where I come out to the TV blasting a UFC fight while my partner excitedly details the entire plot of a shonin anime he just watched this morning, which I can barely hear or make sense of because of aforementioned loud fucking TV. But it's not like he needs me to respond anyway, just say "that's cool babe, sounds like a good show" while I try and stifle an internal scream from already being overstimulated before I've even made coffee yet.

This is going on for a lot longer than anticipated, but I guess I have a lot of thoughts I haven't expressed.

I don't know if I should expect him to change. He seems to have the vague idea of wanting to make more money in the future, but no real plans of how to do that. He seems... Fine where we are, which I am envious of and frustrated with. Like, is life really just working, smoking weed, and playing video games? In our shitty, dirty little apartment? Which i try and clean regularly, often fail at, but don't get much help with beyond him doing the dishes 2-3 times per week?

He doesn't fix things. I try to, again often failing at it, but at least I try. If the trash bag falls into the trash can, he doesn't fix it, he just continues throwing trash in there. If a light bulb goes out he doesn't call the landlord or get a new bulb, he just deals with darkness. Our washing machine has been broken for 2 years now, and he says he can fix it but won't attempt to, and every time I bring up calling someone to repair or replace it he says we can't afford that. Yeah, we can't afford that $150 repair when you just dropped $600 on cool new computer stuff (even though the old monitor, keyboard, headphones, etc all worked fine).

Why would I expect him to be able to contribute to the farm we want to have together if he won't do basic stuff like that? I need a partner who can contribute as much as I do. Right now I am going to school and work 6 days a week, he works 3 or 4 days a week, and still does less regular cleaning and chores than I do. Of course if I brought it up he would say he does ALL the cleaning and I never do ANY. So I don't even start that conversation, there's no point, he gets way too defensive, often defaulting to the whole "well I guess I'm a terrible person and a failure of a boyfriend" routine, which I hate.

Anyway, I'm going to get up and clean and organize the kitchen. I don't know if we have a future together but I am going to focus on myself, and the things I can do to start working towards my ideal life, whatever exactly that is.

[delaber]

Three-Point Perspective (Part 2)

Rafael Casal x Reader x Daveed Diggs

Note: Guys! When I wrote Three-Point Perspective, I wasn’t planning on adding a second part to it but the amount of support was so overwhelming that I just had to do a sequel ...And let me tell you; I am so glad you guys wanted it because this was so much fun! I have never been more challenged with a story-line, portraying emotions, changing perspectives, and just the plot in general. I have never never never changed a story-line as much as I did for this one, haha! Crazy amounts of shout-outs and thanks to my amazing mate @einfachniemand​ for listening to countless of ideas, for feedback on several snippets, for being supportive af, and for telling me “yeah, no, that doesn’t work. Back to the drawing board.” Thank you boo! You are amazing! A huge thanks to @theatrenerd86​ for starting off this sequel by providing the settings - and for just being the most supportive human being ever! Mwah! Also a huge thanks to the rest of you for your endless support! I love this community! (Oh, and anon; thanks for the (quite old, sorry) prompt but I didn’t do it for Rafa (sorry once again)). Let me know what you guys think!

Words: 13.8K

Warnings: Oh my goodness, I don’t even wanna get started... Blood, heartbreak, angst (my three tropes)

Rafael

Rafa almost tripped over his own two feet as he stumbled over to the bar and desperately ordered a large whiskey shooter. He was having a hard time keeping calm; his heart was beating fast in his chest, his throat closing in on itself, his hairline soaked in panic-sweat. He needed to put what had just happened in the very seat he was standing in front of at a distance. His hands were still itching to punch something! He needed the fucking drink!

The bartender had barely stopped pouring Maker's Mark into a small glass before Rafa quickly grabbed it and chugged its contents down his throat, desperately trying to block out what he had just witnessed.

Your tongue in his best friend's ear.

Diggs' hand sliding up your thigh.

The sensual smile you'd worn as Diggs had whispered promising words in your ear.

"Oh god," Rafa groaned as he recalled your excited smile as his best friend had escorted you out of the bar, his hand dipping uncomfortably low on your hips.

Desperately clutching the now empty whiskey glass, Rafa tried relentlessly to push away the image of what you and Diggs probably were in the midst of doing right now. Oh shit, oh no... His chest was stinging, his stomach aching horribly at the thought of you and Diggs fucking. Oh god. He tried to shift his focus to the burning sensation down his esophagus instead and quickly ordered another shooter.

It didn't take long before the bartender had placed another glass of golden-brown liquid in front of him that he quickly downed in one go, thinking about how stupid he was for not having acted on his feelings for you earlier. He had had eight fucking years to do so after all?! Why the fuck hadn't he just pulled himself together and called you up?! He wanted to punch something! He wanted to get fucked up! He wanted to call someone and get them to deliver a big fucking bag of blow - but he settled on a third shooter.

He gulped down the whiskey as the aggression subsided and was replaced by the same type of jealousy-induced heartburn that he had felt earlier that night. Fucking Daveed Diggs and the way he always seemed to be able to wrap women around his little finger! In eight minutes, he had managed to do to you what Rafa hadn't managed to do for eight years. Fuck him!

A fourth whiskey went down Rafa's throat as the jealousy was replaced by hurtful pangs in his chest; shit it hurt to think about you and Diggs together. Rafa knew that you had had a few men in your life since the summer in the taco truck, and even though it had stung to see pictures of your romances on Instagram, it didn't hurt half as much as seeing his best friend escort you out of the bar.

He ordered another whiskey. And another one after that. And then an entire bottle of Jameson just to recall the taste of your lips that night on top of the skate ramps all those years ago. Quickly, Rafa gulped down most of the bottle, his eyes watering from the sharp taste of alcohol on his tongue, but no matter how much he drank, he still wasn't able to get image of you and Diggs out of his head. It had etched itself on the back of his eyelids, somehow becoming clearer and clearer with every gulp of fiery liquid.

It didn't take long before he had reached the half-way mark on the bottle of Jameson, completely lost in constantly checking his phone to see if you had tried to contact him to tell him that Diggs by some miracle had blown his shot. You hadn't. And even though Rafa doubted that you would, he still couldn't put the phone away.

He was fumbling about on the screen as he accidentally found Diggs' name on the list of contacts. Completely lost in contemplating whether or not he should call him up and tell him to stay the fuck away from you, he jumped a little when he suddenly felt a soft hand on his shoulder. For about a mili-second, Rafa believed that the soft touch belonged to you, but as soon as he had whipped around in his seat, he felt the disappointment cloud his mind as he was met by his make-up artist Janelle instead. "Oh, hey," he spoke in an uninterested tone of voice, his words a little slurred from the amount of whiskey he'd been drinking.

"Rafa, honey, are you okay?" She looked at him with kind eyes, "you seem a little out of it."

"I'm great," he slurred into his whiskey glass before emptying it for what felt like the 100th time that night, "I'm fucking perfect! This night's just absolutely fucking perfect."

Janelle furrowed her brows and pushed the bottle of Jameson out of Rafa's reach, "is it because of Daveed and -"

"- DON'T say her name," Rafa warned, his voice turning to a low drunk growl afterwards, "I don't want to think about it."

Janelle sat down on the empty barstool next to him and sent him a slow nod, "yeah, I was afraid this might happen..." she sighed and sent him a pitiful look.

"That what might happen?" Rafa drunkenly mumbled, trying to avoid her gaze.

"Honey... I've seen the way you look at her," Janelle whispered and reassuringly put her hand on Rafa's arm as she searched his face for any kind of affirmation. Rafa groaned and met her eyes shortly before she softly added, "- and I've seen the way Daveed looks at her too."

Rafa gulped to keep the slowly forming lump in this throat at bay, "...so you don't think it's just a one-night thing?" He croaked in a small whisper, the pain in his chest suddenly twice as hurtful as before.

Janelle shook her head slowly, shooting Rafa a careful look.

"And - uhm," Rafa cleared his throat "- do you think that - uh - she's into him as well?" He added in a whisper, his face involuntarily screwed up as he was afraid to hear the answer.

"I don't know, honey," Janelle said diplomatically and pulled him in for a tight hug, inaudibly giving away that she definitely thought so. Rafa appreciated Janelle's attempt to salvage the situation and let her comfort him for a couple of seconds before she slowly let go of him again, sending him a heartfelt look in the process. "Do you want to talk about it?" She asked.

"No..." Rafa mumbled and reached for the bottle that Janelle had pushed away moments before.

She grabbed his arm and forced it down in his lap instead, "why don't you leave the bottle and instead call it a night, boo? You've been drinking quite a lot already."

Rafa gulped a little and realised that she was right. Nothing good would come from sitting at the bar, drowning his sorrows in cheap whiskey. "Yeah," he groaned as he ran a hand through his damp hair, "yeah... You're right. Might be a good idea..."

"Go grab your jacket. I'll call you a cab, okay?"

"Thanks," Rafa mumbled before scrambling to his feet, swaying a little from side to side. He managed to balance himself and stagger over to the coat check where he retrieved his leather jacket and slowly pulled it on with great difficulty.

"I got you," Janelle was suddenly behind him, helping him pull the jacket up his arms.

"Thanks," Rafa mumbled as he pulled on the collar to rearrange the leather over his shoulders.

"You wanna say bye to the rest of the crew?" Janelle piped from behind him.

He shot a quick glance across the room and towards the table that his friends were occupying. "I better set an example," he mumbled even though he'd rather be sitting in a cab on his way home right now.

With his arm around Janelle, and her hand on his chest to steady him, Rafa walked over to his co-stars, putting up his best attempt at a cheerful smile, "I'm off guys. Have a lovely evening," he slurred drunkenly.

He thought to himself that he was doing a tremendous job of hiding away his hurt feelings until he noticed their stiff smiles. Suddenly, he realised by the sympathetic looks they were all shooting him from their seats, that they were well-aware of what was going on. Rafa quickly scanned their silent, pained faces one by one until Alessandro - one of the leads - finally spoke up, "see you Monday boss!"

Annoyed with their pitiful eyes, Rafa mumbled a, "see you Monday, bruh," and turned around, facing Janelle again as the others awkwardly looked away. It made him feel stupid.

"Cab's outside," Janelle tried to smile and pulled him in for a hug, "are you going to be okay, boo?"

"I don't know," Rafa croaked truthfully against her neck and let her pull him just a little closer.

"Call me tomorrow, okay?" She let go of him, "We'll do something fun."

"Okay," Rafa slurred, his eyes stinging as he turned away from her and towards the exit.

Slowly, he stumbled out of the bar and hopped into the yellow cab outside, closing his eyes desperately in the backseat, trying to block out any thought of you and Diggs but failing horribly. The ride home was the longest drive of Rafa's life, his thoughts sporadic and unorganised but all centred around the same thing: what would he come home to? Had you and Diggs gone to your place? Or to Diggs' place that he just happened to share with Rafa? Fuck, he almost couldn't bear the thought of coming home to meet Diggs balls deep in you on the couch. Rafa would never purposely punch Diggs, but if he came home to face that, he wasn't sure he'd be able to hold back his itching fist.

"He's your best friend," Rafa mumbled to himself as a reminder, hoping to calm himself down, "he's your best friend. He didn't know. He's innocent... - well apart from fucking your girl..."

Everything inside him was on fire.

"You alright back there, mate?" The cab driver shot Rafa a look in the rear-view mirror, apparently concerned about the whispered words, he'd heard coming from the backseat.

"Yeah," Rafa replied unenthusiastically, a little annoyed that everybody seemed to be so concerned with him - but he eventually stopped thinking out loud.

For the remainder of the trip, the driver kept his mouth shut too but annoyingly enough constantly checked in on Rafa in the rear-view mirror.

Rafa was relieved when the driver finally pulled over outside his home and paid him quickly, slamming the car door shut with much force, hoping to alleviate some of the all-consuming itch that he felt deep in his bones. Little did it help. He still wanted to punch something.

Rafa turned his attention towards the house and gave out a short sigh before he started swaying up the paved pathway in the small yard, briefly stopping before he reached the front door. He prayed that you had taken Diggs to your place and not the other way around. He couldn't handle being faced with his worst nightmare - and especially not after having had so much to drink. Right now, he couldn't account for how he'd react.

He stood with his key in hand for a while, scared of what might come, but eventually realised that he would have to go inside at some point. With a deep sigh, he slowly slid his key in the lock and turned it around, his palms sweating terribly. He felt his heart sinking down to the bottom of his stomach when the key didn't meet any kind of resistance, and he realised that the door was already unlocked.

Fuck... Diggs had taken you here.

With a burning sensation in his chest, Rafa quietly pushed open the front door and stepped inside the small hallway, closing the door behind him with a small thump. He closed his eyes and threw his head up against the wooden door, forcing himself to relax by taking three deep breaths - a technique he had learned from his mother when he had been nervous about doing spoken words for the first time at fifteen.

He focused on his breathing for a few seconds and after having exhaled a third time - already more relaxed than before - he opened his eyes and took in the room. He immediately saw that the floor of the narrow hallway was decorated with several pieces of discarded garments strewn randomly about on the stone floor.

Diggs' pants. Your dress. Your bra.

"No..." Rafa groaned quietly as he took in the pieces of clothes with a hard gulp, the tears stinging in his eyes when he realised what he was being confronted with. "No, no, no!" he buried his face in his hands and took a deep breath to get himself under control again. His entire chest was on fire, the taste of stomach acid thick on his tongue. Everything around him went quiet as he heaved in a big gulp of air, wishing that he had stayed sober tonight. This was all getting too much; he couldn't control it. He was too drunk.

He took another big gulp of air, and was just about to slowly exhale when a soft sound hit his ear canal... It was coming from the other room.

A moan.

A sweet, heartfelt, sensual moan.

From a woman - from you...

It was the result of a sincere reaction to something that had brought you immense pleasure. A moan that someone else had brought to your lips. A moan that Rafa's best friend had brought to your lips.

Fuck! The itch in his hands that he had felt for quite some time now suddenly became too much and he punched the wall hard, causing an old, framed picture of him and Diggs to fall down, the frame shattering in several pieces on the cold stone floor. He stared at the broken shards of glass for a few seconds, torturing himself by carefully listening for more of your sweet moans echoing throughout the house.

They didn't come, however. The entire house was suddenly completely silent. Thank god.

Slowly, Rafa squatted down to brush the glass-dust off your dress, the silky fabric soft between his fingertips as he pulled the dress to his chest, thinking about what it would feel like to be the one to pull it off you.

Without warning, however, the silence in the hallway was broken by another loud moan coming from Diggs' personal space and Rafa was quickly brought out of his trance. He had to get out of there! He would go to a hotel or something! Anything to get away from the sounds you were making for another man!

Slightly panicked, Rafa shuffled to get to his feet, but overbalanced and fell forwards, his left hand immediately softening the blow as a reflex. From the moment his palm hit the floor, Rafa felt a sharp pain in his hand, but didn't realise that he had cut himself before he rotated his elbow and saw the huge piece of broken glass that was prodding out of his palm. "You're kidding me," he groaned as he tried to focus on the glass shard before he grabbed it tightly and forcefully pulled it out of his skin, the warm blood immediately running down his hand as a terribly sharp pain started pulling at his fingers. "OH FUCK!" he exclaimed a little louder than he had intended to, unable to hold back in his inebriated state.

Pressing in on the wound to try and get it to stop bleeding, he hurried to the bathroom and quickly located an old towel that he wrapped tightly around his bloody hand. "Shit! Oh fuck that hurts!" He groaned loudly and slid down the wall, his ass hitting the cold floor with a small thump. He could hear hushed voices coming from Diggs' personal space next door, and he realised that he had no idea what hurt the most; the thought of you lying in there wearing nothing but your panties, or his throbbing hand that had already bled through the old towel.

"Shit," he mumbled to himself as he replaced the old piece of cloth with a clean one, "ah fuck it hurts!" He hissed and tried to push the wound shut to get it to stop bleeding. It helped for a few seconds before the gash opened back up, fresh blood spilling out again. Just looking at it made him dizzy, and he realised that he couldn't handle this on his own. He was too drunk. He needed help. Embarrassed by himself and the situation he had put himself in, he took a deep breath before calling out the name of the last person on earth he wanted to see right now, "DIGGS!"

The hushed voices from the other side of the wall died down completely. They'd heard him. Still, there was no response to his cry for help. Meanwhile, the second towel around his hand was soaked through as well. What if he was about to bleed out? What if he was spending his last moments, pathetically heartbroken on his own bathroom floor?

"DIGGS!" he tried again, this time a little more panic to his voice.

The entire house was quiet still, and Rafa listened intently for few seconds before he finally heard an angry voice calling from the other side of the wall. "WHAT?"

"Diggs, I need your help!" Rafa called back, embarrassment flooding his voice.

"I'm kind of busy in here, Rafa!" Diggs bellowed back. Rafa had never heard him sound so annoyed before.

"Come on, man... I'm serious," Rafa let out a loud groan as he took in the bloody rag that was wrapped around his hand.

He heard cursing and shuffling on the other side of the wall and a few seconds later, the door to the bathroom finally swung open, revealing a very annoyed Daveed Diggs who was trying to hide away his boxer-clad erection with the palm of his hand.

Upon seeing how Diggs was already hard and ready to fuck Rafa's girl, there was no doubt: The pain in Rafa's chest definitely exceeded the pain in his hand.

Daveed

Daveed could not believe how lucky he was! He had barely closed the front door behind him before you had pulled him in for a string of sensual kisses in the dark. His lips were moving fiercely against your warm skin, your head lolling backwards as you panted and let him press you up against the wall in the hallway. He loved the sensation of your fingers tangled in his long hair as he attacked your neck and jawline with rough, affectionate kisses. You let out a small impatient pant as he untied the bow at the side of your dress, giving himself easier access to your beautiful build underneath as the dress opened up completely.

"Fuck, you look absolutely amazing," he cupped your ass and pressed his pelvis closer to you with a groan.

Your small fingers desperately undid the buttons of his shirt and Daveed quickly shrugged it off, finally standing in front of you in nothing but his dark blue slacks. His lips quickly resumed their positions on your neck where he immediately started sucking and nibbling at the sensitive skin while running his hands all over your torso.

Your fingers desperately found the button of his slacks and Daveed felt the tight sensation of his pants against his crotch disappearing slightly as you brought down the zipper and slid the slacks over his hips. Your small hand was palming him through the cotton of his boxers, and he couldn't stop the groan that fought its way all the way from his stomach and up his throat. He heard you chuckling incredulously above him as you let your dress fall to the ground before you dropped down to your knees in front of him, determinedly pulling his boxers down over his thighs.

Daveed's mind went completely blank when he felt your hand cup his balls while your wet mouth found the tip of his straining erection. Your warm breath against him had him let out an involuntary groan, and when your plump lips kissed his engorged head, the sensation sent a shiver all the way up his spine. He pulled your hair away from your face and held it in a loose ponytail on the back of your head, your eyes interlocking with his in the process. Even though you had him between your teeth, the submissive look you sent him had him feeling incredibly in control! Without giving up eye contact, you kissed his head twice before placing a long, wet lick at the tip of his erection, immediately sending hard vibrations throughout his entire body. "Fuck," he groaned and caressed the side of your face when you wrapped your lips tightly around his head, sucking a bit at the tip.

"Mmmh, pull my hair!" you panted around him and he immediately tugged on the ponytail, buckling his hips closer to your face, desperate to feel the ecstasy of warm, wet, tightness around him again. To Daveed's relief you immediately obliged and slid your lips almost all the way down to his base and back up again, releasing him with a small pop.

"Oh fuck!" He let out a groan as he looked down into your huge, submissive eyes, slowly stroking your cheek. You repeated your motions, your tongue wet and soft against him as you bopped your mouth along his length, his hips meeting you half-way, "yeah, that's it, baby, just like that," he panted softly as you kept gazing up at him, upping the tempo and bringing him all the way down your throat with a slight gag, reminding him of how big he was.

Daveed had received many blowjobs over the years but never in his life had he felt more worshipped and desired! You were massaging his balls lovingly as you brought his length down your throat, hollowing your cheeks and making him feel completely taken care of as you focused solely on his pleasure and enjoyment.

He was just about to let go and cum down your tight throat before he reminded himself that he'd have to take it easy if he wanted to last long enough to fuck you. And holy shit, how he wanted to fuck you! He knew he was very good with his hips and hands and he wanted to bring you pleasures that you'd never even dared dreaming of before.

It was hard to do, but eventually he managed to pull himself out of your wet mouth and you to your feet with a gruff, "come here!". He unclasped your bra and tossed it aside before he pushed you up against the wall, took your nipple in his mouth, and ran his fingers along your lace-covered folds. You let out a soft gasp and he repeated the motions of his fingers while attacking your neck and throat with toothy kisses. You were panting and moaning underneath him, your hand still stroking his erection lovingly.

"Okay, okay, okay, you gotta stop," he licked the shell of your ear with a low chuckle, "I still have so many things I want to do to you," he smacked your ass and you let out a small whimper when his palm came in to contact with your skin.

Slowly, you let go of him and carefully caressed his abs instead as he re-claimed your lips. The kiss was deep and soft, and it made the straining sensation in Daveed's erection even more unbearable, but he was patient enough to not touch himself.

After a few minutes of intense, passionate kissing, you pulled your face away from his and looked up at him with a dark look in your eyes, "well, are you going to do something about it? Or are you going to just leave it at talking?" You chuckled against his skin.

"Don't get cocky with me," Daveed smiled and hoisted you up in his arms. You let out a small yelp, but still threw your legs around his waist and let him carry you to his bedroom while licking his ear. He carefully positioned you with your back against the mattress of his bed and hovered above you as he put his lips to your collarbone, slowly kissing his way down between your breasts, over your stomach, and stopping when he reached the top of your panties. He sat himself down on his knees in front of you, sending you a hungry look as he ran his fingers over your body. You looked him square in the eye and raked a hand through his curls, pulling his head back slightly. The anticipating look you were sending him made his erection twitch between his legs, but he still didn't touch it. Instead, he licked his lips and kissed the laces between your legs. "I love this colour on you," he growled against the thin fabric. He could feel you shiver underneath him as he pulled the red laces down your well-shaped legs, caressing your inner thighs lovingly. "Mmh," he hummed as you spread your legs for him, your fingers still tangled in his hair. Your chest was heaving up and down in a slow, steady rhythm as he placed small kisses on your skin, his tongue just barely grazing you. He enjoyed the way you closed your eyes and dipped your head low as he repeated this motion a few times.

Slowly, he slipped his tongue inside your folds, your lips gently spreading for him as he tasted you. You gasped slightly when he reached your clit and gave it a small flick before he slowly ran his tongue over you again. You were panting above him, your fingers caressing his scalp as your face was screwed up in pleasure. Daveed couldn't look away even if he wanted to!

He caressed the back of your legs with his hands before he had his fingers join his tongue at your core. Slowly, he inserted a finger into your wet heat and was rewarded with a deep moan escaping your lips. Desperate to hear you again, he inserted yet another finger, letting his digits and tongue work in unison until you finally let out another deep moan.

He could tell you were close to letting go completely, and it was all working out so nicely, your chest heaving up and down faster and faster as you moaned loudly for him, your nails finding their way to his scalp, pulling his face closer to you - when clash!

Out of nowhere, a loud shatter was heard from somewhere in the house. It sounded like glass breaking, but Daveed was used to Rafa's clumsy ass, so he ignored what he assumed was his best friend returning home after his night out.

Daveed did, however, feel you freeze slightly underneath him, and you pulled back the moan that had been just about to escape your lips and replaced it with a, "what was that?!" a slight panic to your voice.

"Relax, it's probably just Rafa," Daveed whispered and resumed his movements.

"What's he doing here?" You panted slightly but not as sensually as before.

"He lives here," Daveed growled against your skin, annoyed by the fact that your attention was suddenly directed at his best friend instead of the very pleasurable things he knew he was doing. To make sure that you forgot about Rafa, Daveed brought out the big guns and put his lips around your clit, vibrating them while his fingers worked their way in and out of you. It worked expertly, and it didn't take him long before he'd earned himself another loud moan coming from you. You looked as if you were completely lost in the sensations, he was causing you - but not for long, because suddenly a loud "OH FUCK!" from Rafa rang throughout the house. It was followed by hurried footsteps as Rafa ran to the bathroom that was located next to Daveed's personal space.

Daveed felt you shuffle underneath him as you put your weight on your elbows and closed your legs slightly, craning your neck as you looked towards the wall that Daveed's personal space shared with the bathroom. You had a concerned look in your eyes that Daveed chose to ignore. Instead, he kept going with his fingers and tongue, but you weren't moaning anymore.

"Shit! Oh fuck that hurts!" Rafa exclaimed loudly from the other side of the wall.

"Don't you think you should go check on him?" You asked quietly, your eyes still glued to the wall.

"No," Daveed said curtly, and tried to get you to lie back down again so he could continue. You didn't budge, however. You were more interested in the loud groan that was escaping Rafa. You let out a nervous laugh as you once again heard him cuss and groan from the next room.

"Ignore him," Daveed panted as he spread your legs apart again, his tongue immediately finding your core, and he was rewarded with a gasp from you. He had just started moving his fingers inside you again when he heard Rafa call his name loudly from the other side of the wall.

"DIGGS!"

Daveed froze for about a mili-second before deciding to ignore Rafa and continue moving his fingers inside you instead.

"Go talk to him," you chuckled and raked a hand through his hair, suddenly totally unaffected by his movements,

"He can wait. I'm far too busy," Daveed let his tongue run over you again, once more losing himself in your wonderful wetness.

Rafa however, pulled him back to reality by yelling out his name a second time, "DIGGS!!" causing you to slightly close your legs one more time.

"You're kidding me..." Daveed muttered under his breath as his face was forced away from your wet centre. "WHAT?" he ended up bellowing back to his best friend on the other side of the wall.

"Diggs, I need your help!" Rafa kept calling.

"I'm kind of busy in here, Rafa!" Daveed bellowed while looking into your amused eyes.

You were chuckling slightly, "he needs you. Don't you think you better...?" You sent Daveed a charming grin while nodding towards the door, "he sounds quite drunk..."

Daveed shot you a pained look.

"Go," you chuckled, "I'll still be ready for you in here when you come back. Don't worry."

"Come on man... I'm serious," Rafa bellowed through the wall.

"I'm going to murder him for this!" Daveed groaned in an annoyed tone of voice and got up on his feet with a loud groan. He quickly located a pair of boxers and packed away his erection before storming out of the room, closing the door to his personal space shut behind him.

He found Rafa sitting up against the wall in the bathroom, his eyes swimming with alcohol. "What, bruh?!" Daveed demanded as he locked eyes with him, "what's so important that it couldn't wait until morning?"

"...Were you sleeping?" Rafa slurred while looking like a total fucking idiot as his drunk eyes scanned Daveed from head to toe.

"Of course I wasn't sleeping! I was in the middle of eating pussy when you ruined it!"

Rafa looked as if he was about to throw up, "...you're about to fuck her?" He slurred.

"Yes?! So make whatever you want to say quick, 'cause I got a soaking wet woman waiting for me on my bed!"

Rafa looked up at Daveed with a pained expression but kept his silence.

"I swear to god, if you don't speak up now and tell me what the hell made you call me out here, I'll kick your ass!"

Rafa sighed heavily, looking as if he was about to tell Daveed someone else's secret but eventually croaked, "I hurt myself," while holding up his left hand that was wrapped sloppily in a blood-soaked towel.

First then, did Daveed notice that there were several splodges of blood on the bathroom floor. It made him drop the attitude slightly, "Jesus fuck Rafa, what the hell did you do?" He groaned and crouched down next to him on the floor.

"I knocked down the frame in the hallway," Rafa slurred and let Daveed examine the deep cut in the palm of his hand, "cut myself on the glass."

"You did a thorough job," Daveed mumbled with a sigh as he lifted the towel to check out the gash that was still bleeding heavily, "come here, run some water on it. I'll find some bandages." Daveed turned on the faucet and helped Rafa find his balance as he quickly pulled him to his feet. He could tell that Rafa was struggling to stand still as he swayed back and forth while leaning in over the sink, playing a bit with the jet of water. Daveed sent him an annoyed glance; he did not have time for this! "How much did you have to drink after I left?" he asked, the irritation practically oozing out of him as he looked for the first-aid kit in one of the cabinets.

"I dunno," Rafa mumbled sleepily as he watched the water clean the blood away from his hand, "a lot?"

"Yeah, so I'd guessed," Daveed mumbled to himself as he located the first aid kit and quickly pulled out a couple of rolls of gauze. "Come over here," he urged Rafa to sit down on the edge of the tub next to him.

Rafa gave out a small grunt and turned off the water, before turning towards Daveed with lazy movements. Daveed had to bite his tongue to avoid telling Rafa to hurry the fuck up!

Rafa's ass had barely touched the white ceramic of the tub's edge before he lost his balance and vigorously swayed back and forth a few times, finally catching himself by throwing his hand up against the sink, leaving bloody handprints all over the bathroom in the process.

"Jesus Christ, Rafa!" Daveed groaned, he did not want to deal with Rafa's drunk ass right now, "look, I'll help you with your hand but I'm not cleaning up out here!" He said harshly.

"Then don't!" Rafa muttered as he slowly slid down to the floor with a loud groan, sending Daveed and irritated look in the process.

"Come on; give me your hand," Daveed demanded, determined to be done as fast as possible so he could get back to you.

Rafa held out his arm and Daveed rotated it to look for more injuries and noticed that Rafa had bruised his knuckles quite badly too, "...have you been in a fight?" He furrowed his brows.

"Just fix my hand, okay?!" Rafa shot Daveed an annoyed look, "Make it stop bleeding!" He slurred and gestured to the blood that was already dripping from his fingertips again.

Daveed gave out an irritated grunt as he started wrapping Rafa's bloody hand in gauze, "sit still!!"

"Oh fuck," Rafa groaned as Daveed slowly draped the gauze over the sensitive wound, "fuck it hurts."

"Quit your whining!"

There was a knock on the bathroom door and Daveed slowly looked up from Rafa's bloody hand and towards the door instead. You were poking in your head, looking curiously at what the two men were doing, your hair a big mess. "Is everything alright in here?" You asked carefully as you stepped inside, tugging on the oversized shirt you'd put on to cover up your naked body.

"Rafa cut himself - and apparently he's too drunk to handle it alone," Daveed rolled his eyes so Rafa couldn't see. He registered your amused smile just before he turned back to the hand in his lap, immediately noticing the small change in Rafa's flexibility as opposed to before you had stepped in. His fingers had somehow gone weirdly stiff, and by further inspection, Daveed realised that Rafa's entire body was suddenly tense, the muscles in his jaw continuously flexing and relaxing, flexing and relaxing. Still, Rafa didn't bat an eyelid, he didn't even emit a single sound. He was just silently staring at you, his eyes going up and down your front, his breathing hard and heavy. Daveed shot him a weird look out the corner of his eye. What the fuck was going on with him? He had definitely had too much to drink...

"'s that my shirt?" Rafa slurred to you as he took in your attire.

Daveed briefly looked up at you and realised that the oversized t-shirt you were wearing were indeed Rafa's favourite Raiders shirt that Daveed had borrowed the other day. Rafa had a weird look on his face, and it looked as if he was about the say something crude to you, so to diffuse the situation, Daveed spoke: "let it go, bruh," he said in an uninterested tone of voice before he quietly turned back to wrapping the bleeding hand. Why the fuck would Rafa care if you were wearing his t-shirt or not?? He didn't mind Daveed wearing it.

"Oh..." he heard you say softly from the doorframe, "Raiders... I'm sorry. I didn't realise."

"Yeah, no. Don't be," Rafa said softly and Daveed was just about to give his best friend a mental pad on the back for having enough sense to bring his attitude around so quickly, but then he added an "- it looks good on you!" in a flirty voice that vexed Daveed so much that he felt a slow anger bubble in his chest. He let go of the bleeding hand and straightened his back as he looked over at Rafa with a hard look. He could not believe that Rafa had the nerve - the audacity! - to act so disrespectfully! What the fuck had gotten into him?! He had been a huge cock-block to you and Daveed and now he found it suitable to be flirting with you???

Daveed had to take a deep breath to calm himself down, in the meantime reminding himself that Rafa was drunk as fuck and probably not even aware that his words could be misinterpreted as more than just friendly... Therefore, he purposely ignored his best friend's impudent behaviour and instead made sure to keep his eyes down low so he could concentrate fully on wrapping up the bleeding hand, determined get the fuck out of there as fast as possible so he could get back to slipping you his famous techniques.

The wound in the palm of Rafa's hand was still bleeding quite heavily, and it didn't take Daveed long to realise that he needed more gauze to make the blood stop dripping onto the floor. "Shit," he muttered under his breath and looked over at you, "baby, can you get me more gauze out of the cabinet?"

You whipped your gaze away from Rafa's face, your eyes immediately finding Daveed's. The look in your eyes instantly shifted from something that Daveed couldn't quite place to soft and cute, a small goofy smile slowly erupting on your lips as you scanned his face. You didn't say anything, just sent him a curt nod before you quietly turned to the cabinet, looking for the first-aid kit on the bottom shelf. As you bent over in front of him, your t-shirt rode up high and Daveed got a beautiful glimpse of the red laces under the hem of the t-shirt you were wearing. Your panties were hugging your ass nicely, and for a moment, he forgot about the bleeding limb in his hand - all he could think about was touching you again! He wanted to snap the useless piece of fabric between your legs in two and delve his tongue into your wet heat, bringing you untold pleasu- ...he suddenly felt Rafa's fingers do a small involuntary twitch in his lap and he realised that his best friend was checking you out too, his mouth hanging slightly open, his eyes glued to your ass.

What the fuck was the matter with him? Had the roles been reversed, Daveed would never have checked out Rafa's girl!

Angry with his best friend, Daveed gave Rafa's arm a small smack while sending him a threatening look, daring him to keep staring at your ass. When his and Rafa's eyes interlocked, Rafa's face curled up in a sour expression but he quickly fixated his gaze on the floor in front of him instead, probably realising that Daveed could knock him out easily.

Meanwhile, completely innocent and oblivious to what had just happened behind your back, you stood up straight and handed Daveed two extra rolls of gauze before resuming your position in the doorway.

Apparently, Rafa had learnt absolutely nothing from Daveed's silent threats and immediately went back to staring at you again. Daveed contemplated shooting Rafa a verbal threat as well but decided against it when he realised how absolutely pathetic his best friend looked. He was drunk as fuck, his eyes all foggy and glossy. Daveed would confront him about his disrespectful behaviour tomorrow.

Still, the fact that Rafa was staring intensely at you while you were only wearing the slightly oversized t-shirt and your beautiful, beautiful panties underneath, made Daveed uncomfortable as fuck, so he worked double speed on Rafa's hand to get you away from the bathroom faster.  Luckily, with the fresh supply of gauze from you, it only took him a few more minutes before he was done with the wrapping, a sigh of relief travelling through his body as he finally let go of Rafa's injured hand.

The tension in the bathroom could be cut with a knife and Daveed took a deep breath to calm himself down before breaking the silence by saying, "Look, I can bandage this to keep it from bleeding all over, but you need to go to the hospital for stitches or something."

"Mmh," Rafa grunted beside him, clearly not pleased with the situation. His eyes were glued to you, and he was wearing a certain hungry look on his face as he drank you in - and Daveed realised that Rafa definitely was aware of what signals he was sending.

What the hell was going on inside his pea-sized, idiot brain? Did he want Daveed to punch him? Daveed was just about to grab him by the collar when he heard you piping from the doorframe, "...I can take you."

...what? Daveed immediately turned his attention to you and saw the soft look you were sending Rafa as you continued, "I can drive. I almost didn't drink tonight."

What?! You liked Rafas stares?!

"You'd - you'd do that?" he heard Rafa whisper from beside him, a soft smile erupting on his best friend's lips.

Daveed didn't like it. He thought to himself that it looked as if the two of you had developed a secret language in the time it had taken him to wrap Rafa's hand. What the hell had he missed out on?

"Of course," you nodded slowly, your eyes still interlocking with Rafa's, "Let me just grab some pants, okay?"

"Yeah, okay," Rafa whispered, a hopeful look on his face, "thanks."

What the fuck was going on between you two?

Daveed watched you send Rafa a small smile, your face flushed. The sexual tension was thick between the two of you, and Daveed felt the jealousy burn in his chest as neither of you were looking away from the other. How the fuck dare Rafa flirt with the girl that he had brought home?! How dare he send you those hungry looks?! It was itching in Daveed's hands to do something about the long, continuous gaze between you and in his frustration, he curled his fingers and accidentally pressed on Rafa's wound, making him hiss in pain as he shot back an angry look. Daveed was far too busy looking over at you, however. You finally had your attention directed at him - and not Rafa - your eyes huge and doe-like, looking as if you'd just woken up from a trance. He shot you a look as if to say 'what the fuck is going on?' and you gulped guiltily.

Suddenly realising that he finally had the full attention of both you and Rafa, Daveed spoke up in a voice that was much more strained than he had intended, "Nope! Not gonna happen! Uh-uh, absolutely no fucking way," he shot his best friend a hard look, "Rafa you can take a cab!" he turned his attention back to you, "Baby go back to bed, I'll be there in a second!"

He noticed your eyes skating between his own face and Rafa's and he sternly let out a "he'll take the cab, okay!" He didn't like the way you were looking at each other, and he still very much intended on fucking you tonight no matter how big of a cock-block Rafa was being!

He was trying to catch your eye, but you had your gaze firmly placed on Rafa again, seemingly unable to look away. Daveed noticed how you let out a small gulp as Rafa shot you a careful nod as if giving you permission to leave.

What the hell was going on????

He also noticed the long glance the two of you shared before you gently closed the door behind you as you exited the bathroom.

What! The! Fuck!

Daveed felt his chest bubbling over. He had never felt this way towards Rafa before, but his best friend had never looked more punchable! Automatically, his fingers once more pressed in hard on Rafa's wound.

"Ah! Dude what the fuck!" Rafa yelped loudly.

"What the fuck was that all about?" Daveed spat, "you're flirting with my girl!"

"She's not your girl just because you brought her home for one night, Diggs!" Rafa hissed angrily through gritted teeth.

"What the hell are you talking about?!" Daveed felt as if his eyes were bulging out of his skull, "She's crazy about me! You should've seen the way she was begging for it at the bar!"

"Yeah, I saw everything," Rafa said slowly with anger in his eyes, a low growl to his voice as he drunkenly staggered to his feet, "I saw exactly how you swooped in and thought you could erase eight years of history between me and her!"

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Daveed hissed before his voice turned to frustrated yelling, "Rafa, you have no history with her!" he too stood up, so they were eye to eye, "you made out with her once eight years ago and now no one else is allowed to touch her?! If you wanted a shot with her, you should have done something ages ago!"

"I did do something ages ago! I kissed her!"

"Yeah! And then you had eight years of nothing! You didn't even talk to her! How the fuck was I supposed to know that you wanted to kiss her again???"

"You could have asked me!" Rafa yelled frustratedly.

"I could have asked you?! Come on, man!! You're thirty-three years old for fucks sake! If you wanted something to happen with her, you should've engaged yourself!"

"I was planning on doing so tonight!" Rafa hissed angrily, "and she would've said yes if it hadn't been for you!"

"No she wouldn't!" Daveed was minutes away from pulling out his own hair. How could Rafa be so thick?! "Don't you think that something would've happened by now if you both wanted it so badly?"

"Did you not see how she was eye-fucking me just now?" Rafa yelled angrily, sending Daveed a hard look.

Daveed let out a low growl, "yeah, meanwhile I was minutes away from actually fucking her! If she really wanted you, don't you think she would've given you more signals than a few pitiful looks because you're drunk and hurt? She doesn't want you, man!!"

"Fuck you!!!" Rafa spat angrily and shoved Daveed in the chest causing him to stagger backwards as he was pushed out of balance.

"What the fuck's the matter with you!" Daveed spat as he took a step closer to Rafa, balling up his fists and sending him a threatening look, "you really want me to beat you up?"

"Do whatever the fuck you want with me as long as you stay away from her!" Rafa yelled and gave Daveed another hard shove in the chest. His eyes were bloodshot and Daveed had never seen him this angry before.

"What the fuck's gone into you?" He yelled louder than before, "she clearly doesn't want you! Why can't you just let her go?!"

"Because I'm in love with her!" Rafa yelled loudly, spit flying everywhere. His eyes were huge and aggressive.

Daveed took a step backwards and stared at his panting best friend as his angry words sank in. Rafa's nostrils were flared, and it looked as if he was about to punch Daveed in the face.

...Rafa was in love with you? Daveed could punch himself! Why hadn't he seen it before? Of course Rafa was in love with you... He took a deep breath to calm himself down before he quietly spoke: "Yes - well I'm crazy about her too..."

Rafa was still panting heavily, his nostrils still flared as he shot Daveed a hard look - but he didn't say anything.

They had feelings for the same girl... Daveed frustratedly pinched the bridge of his nose as the realisation sank in; a girl had come between them. How high school... "Shit," he said quietly, "what do we do now?"

Rafa shot him a dark look and answered immediately: "you back down!" he said harshly but not as aggressively as before.

"I'm not going to back down, Rafa," Daveed answered him quietly. He full-on intended on making you his no matter what Rafa's feelings were.

"I've been in love with her for eight years!" Rafa spat angrily but he had stopped yelling, "You have for eight minutes! Don't you think it's more fair that you let me have a shot?!"

Daveed was getting more and more frustrated by the second but was happy that Rafa had chosen to use those exact words: "Exactly Rafa! You had eight years! You sat on your hands for eight years and you expect her to come running to you now? You expect me to let you have a shot? You've had millions of opportunities to do something!"

Rafa's face was still wild but his tone of voice was quiet and determined: "you saw the look she just sent me!" he said darkly.

Daveed had to give it to him; the way you'd been staring at Rafa had confused him too: "Listen, I don't know what the fuck that was, but if she had any feelings for you at all, why would she go home with me?" He said quietly, "why would she take off her clothes for me and not you?"

Rafa shook his head back and forth as if refusing to believe the argument, "No..." he croaked, "please don't say it like that, man..."

"Bruh..." Daveed sighed, "I'm sorry it is this way, but I don't know what else to tell you." He felt bad for Rafa but he wasn't going to back down. No chance.

"Please don't fuck her," Rafa pleaded quietly. His heart obviously broken.

"You know I'm not going to guarantee you that..."

"Just... Let me talk to her first."

"What do you expect to gain from that?"

"She wants to talk to me too..."

"Maybe - but it won't go your way. She's lying naked in my bed right now! She made her decision, bruh."

Rafa looked pained. He was clutching his chest with his eyes screwed shut, a small tear rolling down his cheek, "fuck!" he quietly worded before he fell to his knees in front of the toilet and threw up.

You

"I'm going to murder him for this!" Daveed pulled himself away from you and on to his feet, desperately looking around the room for something to wear. He finally pulled out a pair of clean boxers from his closet, pulled them on, and hurried out of the bedroom to see what was going on with Rafa. He had sounded very drunk and even though you had been slightly amused by his constant swearing throughout the house, the sound of glass smashing combined with his drunk cries for help, had also left you a bit nervous that something serious might've happened to him. What if he had cut himself badly and Daveed couldn't handle it alone? Rafa was your friend too after all. You had to make sure everything was all right with him.

Quickly, you jumped from Daveed's bed, pulled on your panties, and looked around the room for something to wear that could cover your body as your own dress had been discarded during the make-out session in the hallway. You quickly located a black t-shirt that was casually thrown over a chair in the corner of the room and pulled it over your head, grateful that it covered you all the way down to the top of your thighs. Ready to leave Daveed's bedroom, and with your hand already on the doorknob, you took a brief look at yourself in the mirror to make sure you were decent. You tried padding down your messy sex-hair but the sound of Rafa hissing in pain from the other room had you abandon any thought of trying to fix your looks - Rafa's injuries seemed much more urgent. Forcing your eyes away from your own reflection, you opened the door to the hallway instead and listened for their voices.

"Just fix my hand, okay?! Make it stop bleeding!" you heard Rafa slur from the room next door. He was clearly very drunk.

"Sit still!!" Daveed growled.

It sounded as if they had the situation under control and you were just about to go back to Daveed's bed and wait for him there when you heard Rafa exclaim, "Oh fuck! Fuck it hurts!"

It made you do a U-turn on your heel and you decided to check in on the two men to see if they were in need of any extra help. Softly, you knocked on the door but didn't listen for an answer as you immediately poked in your head and took in the scene in the small bathroom: the two men were sitting next to each other; Daveed on the edge of the bathtub with Rafa's bloody hand in his lap while Rafa was splayed on the floor looking very drunk. Both of them were looking directly up at you with equally soft expressions on their faces. Daveed's eyes were loving as he silently apologised for having to help his best friend clean up. Rafa, on the other hand, was staring up at you with a sorrowful look on his pale face, his eyes huge and red-rimmed, his Adam's apple bouncing up and down in his throat as he gulped hard.

The tension between them was thick, the air cold. Both of them clearly equally annoyed with the other.

"Is everything alright in here?" You asked quietly as you pushed open the door and stepped inside, tugging on your t-shirt to prevent it from riding up.

"Rafa cut himself..." Daveed rolled his eyes so only you could see before he continued, "- and apparently he's too drunk to handle it alone," he shot Rafa an annoyed sideway-glance before he turned his attention to the gauze and Rafa's blood-covered hand in his lap.

You watched Rafa send Daveed an equally irritated glance, looking as if he was biting his tongue to keep himself from retorting something nasty. He had probably already realised that he needed Daveed's help to get the wound to stop bleeding and that he wouldn't get it by being crass. So instead, Rafa silently let Daveed wrap his hand as his eyes slowly found yours, his expression immediately changing from annoyed to soft.

You sent him a small reassuring smile and a goofy expression emerged on his drunk face when he happily reciprocated it. You let out a small laugh at his expression and he blinked a few times, looking as if he was saving the sound on his mental hard drive. His foggy eyes were softly gazing up at you with a soulful look, and he looked drunk but cute as he took you in, a weird undertone in his gaze that you couldn't quite place. It was a look that you recognised from somewhere, but not from him - from someone else. You scanned his face one more time, raking your brain to find out from where you knew the gaze, he was sending you, but it wasn't immediately clear. Suddenly however, you realised that it was the same look that Daveed had sent you several times over the last couple of weeks. It was a look of longing.

Softly, you cocked your head at him, and he sent you a small, sad smile in return, his green eyes kindly taking in your face before they travelled down your body, ultimately landing on your chest. You immediately folded your arms, and he looked back up into your eyes, your eyebrows now arched in an unimpressed manner, silently tell him that he'd been caught staring red-handed. His face screwed up in a painful expression and he paled a bit before he quietly slurred, "'s that my shirt?".

Unaware of what he was talking about, you looked towards the mirror above the sink on the opposite side of the bathroom wall, and when you caught your own reflection, you realised that he hadn't been staring at your chest. He'd been staring at the logo on the t-shirt. The Raiders logo - his football team. You weren't wearing Daveed's shirt. You were wearing Rafa's.

You'd seen him in it multiple times - hell, he'd even worn it the night you'd kissed on top of the skate ramps. You remembered because every so often your mind wandered back to that night. Played it on repeat. Rafa's hand on your thigh as Stevie Nicks' voice rang in the background. Your tongues intertwining. The stubble on his chin soft between your fingertips. The scent of his warm cologne. The thought of your passionate kiss that summer night eight years ago was enough to make a warm feeling appear in your stomach.

Still looking at yourself in the mirror, you let your arms drop to the side and took in your own reflection. The t-shirt was a few sizes too big for you and it covered you like a short dress, just barely reaching below the red panties you were wearing underneath. The Raiders logo took up most of the front of the shirt and the logo curved nicely along your breasts and waistline, making the oversized men's shirt actually look as if it'd been tailored to you. You liked this look. You actually looked good in Rafa's t-shirt.

From far away you heard Daveed's voice, "let it go, bruh," and it pulled you back to reality.

"Oh... Raiders..." you said quietly, unable to pry your eyes away from the way the t-shirt was hugging your curves. No wonder Rafa was staring at you. You had gone home with his roomie, yet you'd put on his shirt - and you even looked good in it. "I'm sorry. I didn't realise," you croaked.

Rafa was looking as if he was thinking about the same thing as you, and for a second you were afraid that he might get angry about the fact that Daveed's flirt was wearing his beloved Raiders t-shirt, but he just softly said, "yeah, no. Don't be. It looks good on you..."

You didn't react to his words but merely stared at yourself in the mirror as the memories of your Tacos Locos summer once more flooded your mind - and you slowly felt a dull ache in your chest when you looked back at Rafa's pained expression and realised that maybe there was a reason for his look of longing, his quiet, pained reaction to seeing you half-naked in his shirt when you'd gone home with his best friend. He probably wasn't as cool with you and Daveed as Daveed had let on. Maybe your suspicion about why Rafa had invited you to join his production was right after all...

Oh no.

The thought of kissing Rafa again had grazed your mind several times in the period of time between his phone call offering you the job, and your first day on set where you'd been introduced to his best friend for the first time. Daveed, however, had immediately pushed every sensual thought of Rafa out of your head and had instead replaced them with unholy thoughts about himself. The sexual attraction that you had felt towards Daveed for the past month was insane and you were definitely crazy about him! ...Still, you wondered if he was the type of man, you'd still fantasise about eight years after having shared a passionate kiss in the dark. The same way you so often had found yourself fantasising about Rafa.

...had you just made a huge mistake?

Rafa's cheeks paled considerably as his gaze constantly shifted between your face and the Raiders logo. He was clearly affected by the fact that you were wearing his shirt and nothing else, and it looked as if he was having a hard time sitting still. The tender yet hurtful look he sent you made you feel horrible about yourself and all the decisions that had led to this exact moment. What if things had been different back in the taco truck eight years ago? What if he had actually taken you home after one of your late nights out? And what if Daveed hadn't been so persistent in hooking up with you over the last couple of weeks? If he hadn't been so smooth and charming, would he still have been able to swoop in right before Rafa? Or would you eventually have gone home with Rafa instead?

Would it feel more right to be sleeping in Rafa's bed tonight?

Oh no...

"Shit!" Daveed's voice brought you back from your panicky train of thought. You looked over at him, his face sweet and innocent as he was helping his best friend recover, and you realised: no, it wouldn't feel more right to be sleeping in Rafa's bed tonight. But it would feel just as right as sleeping in Daveed's.

"Baby, can you get me more gauze out of the cabinet?" he continued.

Baby. It had slipped out of him. He hadn't even realised it... The caring, handsome man in front of you had called you baby and you couldn't help but send him a small smile as it had made you soft. You were baby to him.

Rafa had a reaction to the pet name too: he looked as if he was about to murder Daveed.

Desperately trying to untangle yourself from the situation you had put yourself in, you turned over to the cabinets and pulled out more gauze, promptly handing it over to Daveed before resuming your position in the doorframe.

Immediately, you and Rafa went back to staring at each other again, both unable to look away. The looks he was sending you were deep and longing, his eyes pained as he grew more and more tense with each passing second. He looked as if he wanted to touch you, to kiss you, to hold you tight. Shit.

Your eyes were flickering fast between the two men: both of them sweet and handsome. Both of them crazy about you. You couldn't decide whether or not you had made a mistake by choosing to go home with Daveed tonight.

Daveed broke the tension in the small bathroom when he in an irritated tone of voice said, "Look, I can bandage this to keep it from bleeding all over, but you need to go to the hospital for stitches or something."

Rafa let out a small grunt without looking away from you. It looked as if he wanted to tell you something but was unable to with Daveed being present. It was heart-breaking.

You liked Daveed very much but realised that you had to talk to Rafa as well. You had to hear what he had to say, "...I can take you," you piped up in a voice that was weirdly nervous, "I can drive. I almost didn't drink tonight."

"You'd - you'd do that?" Rafa said in a whisper and sent you a warm look.

"Of course," you nodded slowly, suddenly desperate to talk to him, to hear his thoughts, "Let me just grab some pants, okay?"

"Yeah, okay. Thanks," Rafa said quietly, his pained expression now completely replaced by a hopeful one.

Daveed had definitely noticed that something was going on with you because the annoyance was practically seeping out of him though he was trying his best to keep calm. He did something to Rafa's hand that had Rafa hissing in pain and shooting Daveed an angry look with his lips pressed together in a thin, white line.

Your eyes whipped over to Daveed as well. He was sending you a hurt look that said 'what the fuck are you doing?' and you gulped guiltily. Had he realised that you were unsure about what to do with the two men in front of you?

"Nope!" Daveed said loudly, shaking his head vigorously, "Not gonna happen. Uh-uh, absolutely no fucking way. Rafa you can take a cab!" he shot Rafa a hard look before he turned back to you, his eyes soft, but his voice full of irritation, "Baby, go back to bed, I'll be there in a second!"

There it was again. Baby. You looked into Daveed's soft brown eyes that were looking pleadingly back at you, your knees immediately weak. Slowly, you let your gaze wander a bit to the left and met Rafa's huge green eyes too. They also made you feel incredibly soft.

Daveed noticed your gaze drifting over to Rafa and harshly interjected, "he'll take a cab, okay!"

Rafa sent you a slight nod as if to say that it was alright for you to leave, and that he could handle Daveed and his bleeding hand on his own. Meanwhile Daveed was staring at his best friend with a murderous look in his eyes. You realised that they had to resolve some stuff too, so even though it hurt in your chest, you slowly turned away from the two men, and walked back to Daveed's bedroom. Just before the door to the bathroom closed behind you, you heard the beginning of an argument between the two friends: "Ah! Dude what the fuck!" Rafa yelped loudly.

To which Daveed angrily responded with a "What the fuck was that all about? You're flirting with my girl!" It was more a statement than a question.

You sat awkwardly on Daveed's bed, unsure of what to do now. Daveed had noticed the long looks between you and Rafa. Shit. Even though you hadn't intended it, you had still managed to turn them against each other.

You could hear their angry voices from the other side of the wall, but you didn't want to listen in on their private conversation, so you put your fingers in your ears. Their shouted words were not meant for you. It was a desperate conversation between two best friends, and even though you could've easily followed their screaming match, it didn't seem right to do so. Desperately, you pressed in on your ear canal and started humming softly to tune out most of their angry words. Still, snippets of their loud conversation penetrated your ears.

"Rafa, you have no history with her!" Daveed was yelling before Rafa's voice was heard a few seconds later: "Did you not see how she was eye-fucking me just now?" followed a little while later by a loud "Fuck you!" from Rafa and an angry "you really want me to beat you up?" from Daveed. They kept yelling loudly at each other, but you tried not to decipher their angry words as you found them private. There was a reason why they had sent you out of the bathroom after all.

After a few minutes, their angry yells finally died down completely and were instead replaced by muffled words in normal voices that you couldn't make out even if you tried. You slowly removed your fingers from your ears, instead burying your face in your hands, angry with yourself for having let it come to this.

Their muffled voices could be heard for a few seconds before the sound was disrupted by someone retching.

One of them was throwing up, the other completely silent. You listened intently for a few seconds to see if you could make out who was throwing up, hoping that the other would say some words of comfort, but neither of them spoke, and after about a minute of silence, you heard footsteps approaching the room you were lying in. The doorknob twisted and Daveed entered the room slowly, his eyes full of pain as he took you in. He sat down on the bed next to you, panting hard, obviously very upset about the entire situation. It hurt seeing him like this. And it hurt thinking about Rafa lying alone in the bathroom. You dried an annoying tear away from your cheek and just barely managed to reset your face before Daveed looked up at you with a sad smile. You did your best to look casual as if you hadn't got the faintest idea of what their screaming match had been about. You acted as if wearing Rafa's shirt meant nothing. Seeing his pained expression had done nothing. Hearing him sob in the bathroom made you feel no ways.

"Everything okay?" You asked Daveed carefully.

"Yeah," he grunted.

"How about Rafa?" you said quietly. Even the sound of his name hurt in your chest.

"He's..." Daveed's words died in his throat as he frustratedly buried his face in his hands with a deep sigh.

You gulped, "is he okay alone out there?"

"Can we please not talk about Rafa right now?" he said slowly.

"Yeah..." you nodded quietly, "come here," you folded your arms around his chest, hugging him tight. He pulled you on top of him and hugged you back, his strong arms squeezing you, bringing you comfort as if he knew what you were going through as well. You sat like this for a few seconds, your arms wrapped tightly around each other comforting the broken feeling you both felt in your chests until his lips slowly found their way to your neck, leaving sweet, sensual kisses to the side of your throat.

"Look," you said quietly, pulling yourself away from him and looking into his chocolate brown eyes, "it's not that I don't enjoy this, but I just think it's for the best if I go home."

"What? No?" Daveed looked up at you with a pained expression, "come on, we can't let Rafa ruin our night," he groaned and moved closer to you but suddenly paused, "unless you don't want to of course. I don't want to force you into anything," he looked carefully at you and you understood why. He wanted to make sure that you were comfortable with the decision you were making. Comfortable with him.

It made you realise that the fact that you were lying in Daveed's bedroom half-naked, meant that you had made your choice long ago. You needed to stick with it.

"Yeah, okay," you said and moved your lips close to his, kissing him softly.

"You have no idea how happy that makes me," he groaned against your lips and you felt him breathe a sigh of relief as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He quickly pulled Rafa's t-shirt over your head, and harshly threw it onto the ground next to the bed. You couldn't help but think of the symbolics in his heated gesture.

His warm hands immediately found your breasts and he started running his fingers over your nipples with a low growl. You enjoyed the confident, hungry look he sent you as you were once again bare-chested in front of him. He moved his face closer to yours, "I still fully intent on making you feel good and make you let loose a little," he repeated his words from earlier that evening with a smile and carefully pushed you down on the bed, a warm shiver travelling up your spine with his words and movements. He hovered above you before his lips started pressing small, peppered kisses to the side of your throat, his one hand running down your stomach and dipping down between your legs, making you gasp softly. His lips moved over your collarbone and down between the valley of your breasts, taking one of your nipples in his mouth, and making you arch your back against him, as you felt his erection pressed up between your legs. He groaned as he pushed his boxer-clad erection closer to you, looking down at you with an erotic spark in his eye. Your fingers found his soft hair and you raked a hand through his curls and reciprocated the look he was sending you; dark and sensual.

You were both getting lost in the sensations you were causing each other when you were interrupted by the sound of Rafa retching and his heart-breaking sobs from the next room. It made your stomach ache horribly and you interrupted the kiss with Daveed, looking towards the wall to the bathroom instead. "I'm sorry, I can't just leave him alone with that..."

"What? You're not serious?" He looked at you with a disappointed look on his face.

"Listen to him," you said softly, as Rafa let out another heartbroken sob.

"He'll be fine," Daveed responded harshly before he resumed kissing your throat.

You pulled your face away from him, raking a hand through his hair one more time, "he's your best friend. Do you really want him to be alone right now? He sounds so heartbroken."

"Trust me - you do not want to deal with him right now."

Rafa retched loudly.

"I'm sorry," you kissed Daveed briefly, "but I have to make sure he's okay. I'll be back in a second."

Daveed let out an irritated grunt but eventually let go of you so you could crawl down from his lap. You quickly found the Raiders t-shirt on the floor and pulled it over your head, exiting the bedroom in a swift motion.

You knocked quietly on the door to the bathroom and found Rafa lying on the floor next to the toilet sobbing quietly. "Rafa, honey, are you okay?" you said softly as you sat down next to him and carefully put your hand on his chest.

He took a deep breath and looked up at you with wet eyes. The gaze he sent you was bloodshot, but he wasn't as pale as before. Throwing up some of the alcohol had definitely done him some good. "Hey," he whispered in a raspy voice as he put his good hand on top of yours, closing his eyes again taking three deep breaths. You noticed that he didn't answer your question.

As you pulled your hand away from his chest to fix him a glass of water, he groaned at the lack of touch and sat up straight, sleepily resting his head on the edge of the tub, looking at you with tired, sad eyes.

"Are you done throwing up?" you asked him as you handed him the glass.

He took a big gulp and nodded "I think so... Listen, can we talk?"

You sent him a small smile, "tomorrow, okay?" you didn't want to cause him anymore heartbreak tonight, "let's get you to bed," you held out your hand.

"Yeah, okay..." he took your hand and let you pull him to his feet. He was still very drunk, so you had to help him with his balance, your arm tightly wrapped around his waist, "come here," you chuckled and walked him to his room with his arm draped over your shoulder. As soon as you entered his personal space, he threw himself down on the bed with a loud groan.

"You're not going to disrobe?" you chuckled at him.

"Yeah, no... I don't care right now," he said and closed his eyes, "I just want to sleep... Let this absolute shit night be over."

You guiltily shook your head and forcefully pulled off his Chelsea boots and socks.

"Are you trying to get me naked?" He joked sleepily from the bed; his eyes closed.

"I'm trying to get you comfortable," you chuckled, "you have to take off your shirt and pants yourself."

Rafa groaned but sat up straight before he pulled his shirt over his head. His eyes were still closed, and his long hair was falling in unruly strands around his face. He looked exhausted as he undid the button on his pants and slid them off himself, plumping down on the bed afterwards.

"You don't think I'll bleed to death, do you?" he groaned and lifted his bandaged hand a little.

"I'm absolutely positive you won't," you chuckled at him, "if it's still bleeding tomorrow, I'll take you to the hospital, okay?"

"Okay, can't wait," he smiled sleepily and gave out a quiet snore as if he'd briefly fallen asleep. He was lying flat on his back which gave you time to study the tattoos he had on his chest and forearms. Some of them you didn't like, others were beautiful. He had one on his pec that you'd never seen before.

"If I love you, I have to make you conscious of the things you don't see," you read out loud, looking at his chest.

Even though Rafa had his eyes closed and looked as if he was just about to fall asleep again, he knew what you were talking about and softly tapped the tattoo he had on his pec, "that's right," he slurred with a small smile. For the first time since he'd cut himself, he looked as if he was peaceful, and you tugged one of his long strands of blonde hair away from his eyes and behind his ear instead. Your fingers lingered on his cheek for a second and he kissed your palm with a small hum, "that means that I have to make you conscious of the things you don't see," he whispered before he drifted off completely.

"Alright Rafa," you chuckled quietly as you ran your fingers through his soft hair. He had started breathing heavily, already fast asleep, "thanks for explaining the words of your tattoo with the exact same words!" You got up from the bed and quietly closed the door behind you as you walked out into the hallway.

You'd only walked a few steps towards Daveed's room when the meaning behind Rafa's sentence hit you and you froze in place. Inside your head, the written words of the tattoo and Rafa's whispered words played on repeat. He hadn't explained the tattoo to you. He had told you that he loved you.

He loved you. Rafa was in love with you.

And you were walking towards the bedroom of his best friend. You turned your head slightly, looking towards Rafa's room. Should you go back to him? Or continue to Daveed? You were completely frozen in time, desperately looking between the two bedroom doors on either side of the bathroom in the hallway, realising that even though you might have been lying naked in Daveed's arms only minutes before, Rafa's words hurt so much in your chest that your decision-making was far from over.

Rafa's room was to the left. He had just confessed his feelings for you. Or, he didn't just have feelings for you; he was in love with you. Probably had been since your summer together in the taco truck. You wouldn't say that you were in love with him, but there was definitely raw, heated attraction towards him on your part as well, or you wouldn't still be thinking about your drunk kiss in the dark eight years ago, the way he was always able to make you laugh, his soft, green eyes. It hurt in your chest to think about how you'd potentially wasted eight years without him by your side. If you went to him, you'd either finally be able to stop thinking of him as 'the one who got away' and actually engage in something romantic with him - or you'd see that eight years of absence might have grown the heart so fond that you had put him on a pedestal that he couldn't live up to.

Daveed's room was to the right. He was waiting for you in there, probably ready to fuck you so good that you wouldn't be able to remember your own name. The preview he'd given you earlier tonight had definitely shown you that he was able to bring all your sexual fantasies to life! And you had craved his touch for so long, to feel his strong hands on your body as he slid into you while whispering sweet words in your ear. You and him definitely had some insane potential - not to mention the fact that he was already calling you baby! He was so crazy about you that you were baby to him! - but did you feel the same emotional attraction to him? Or was the warm feeling in your stomach whenever you looked at him all due to sexual attraction? Could you and he ever become more than raw passion?

No matter what, you'd have to choose between them. You couldn't have both. With whomever you chose, you'd never be able to have the other.

Carefully, you weighed both your options; left or right? Rafa or Daveed?

You started at both of their doors, unsure about where to go, but eventually made a decision. With a deep breath, you stepped closer to the wooden door, grabbed door handle and stepped inside, softly closing the door behind you as you took in the handsome man on the bed.

Tagging: @exrthangel @theatrenerd86 @lonelydance @ohsoverykeri @summerofsnowflakes @ramp-it-up @alexander-hamilhoe @honeysucklechocolatedrippin @riiyy @mysearchforgratification @janthony-stan @sillyteecup @biafbunny @einfachniemand @cashskid @namelesslosers @simpinforu​ @diggsbeatriz​ (Imma keep tagging you unless you say something lol).

....No spoilers in the comments please :-) 

[randomingoftherandomness]

What I am hoping for from Winner is King ( 烽火流金)

Okay, so at this point, let’s just be reals here, Word of Honor has kinda set the bar for me in terms of standards to expect from the slew of danmei adaptations this year. Granted, I know that there are some who think the way it was adapted was not up to their standards and that it could have been done better, please don’t bring it on this post because this is not the post for it.

In this post, I’m going to talk about  Winner is King (*•̀ᴗ•́*)و ̑̑

Now, Sha Po Lang, the original novel, is for me one of the best things that I have read in a very long while. As such, I can be rather precious about what I am hoping to see come alive on the show and what I am hoping will be present in the portrayals I see. I know there are some concerns regarding the script and behind the scenes stuff - and they are very valid concerns that I feel too! - and with the recent announcement that instead of 45 episodes, we are only getting 40, I can foresee that there could be some rushed handlings of the very plotty nature of the source material and perhaps a sense that style can trump substance.

But as the actual show isn’t beaming right into our eyeballs just yet, here are some things I am looking forward to seeing in Winner is King and some things that I am crossing my fingers will make the final cut! 

Warning for some novel spoilers ahead. I’ll keep it under the read more.

Tagging @zhongwans because I said I would haha...

Things I am looking forward to:

The Changgu dynamic. I think it goes without saying that if the chemistry between your leads is a dud, the show doesn’t need to even pass Go, it can just shuffle itself off the board because it will be dead in the water. The Changgu dynamic has to be nailed; I need to see that self-doubt, that caring for the other but coming at it from the wrong way, that awkwardness that comes with trying to hold back the burden of your love and care because you don’t want to overwhelm the other... 

I need Gu Yun to be shamelessly sweet with his words and his coaxing of his Yan Wang from a sulk. I need Changgu saying “I hate you to death, Gu Yun” (pining)

Hu Ge Er. Let me just be clear here, I will cheer when she dies, but I hope that how they handle her characterisation will do her justice. There is no excusing the level of horrible that she is, but I hope that she isn’t written as a single dimension abusive piece of shit. Nuance, is what I am looking for. I need her to be the villain and the reason for Chang Geng.

I. NEED. THE. WOLF. ATTACK. SCENE. OUTSIDE. OF. YANHUI. TOWN. aka The First Time They Meet

There is legit no excuse for them to fuck this up, but the Steampunk elements. I would not know what else to say if they fuck this one thing up that is so integral and basic to the love of this IP. They cannot fuck this up. I am very sure I will join people in rioting if they do.

I need to see my Red Kites, my Heavy and Light Armours, my Dragons... I need to see the steam powered lamps, the iron puppets... I need them to get the Wind Slashers right. I need them to get this world-building right ok? I need to be dropped into this show and just swoon over just how accurate to imagination everything looks. Tencent does have the blessed ability to make very good looking productions, so on this note, I am assured. 

I need them to get the human element right; I need to understand why Gu Yun is the way he is, I need to know why the members of the Lin Yuan Pavillion will back Chang Geng and why they won’t. I need to know why Liao Chi would betray the Emperor. I need them to make me feel; I want them to make my heart hurt when Chang Geng’s heart is hurting, I want them to make me cry when Gu Yun is at his lowest and feels like he can’t go on. I want them to make me laugh, I want to feel for Shen Yi and Miss Chen’s awkward courting. 

On that note, I hope they get the Shen Yi and Gu Yun dynamic right too! These two are bros ok? Life and death, ride or die, best bros forever and I need, need them to nail just how integral these are to each other and how much they chose each other as family. I need the bickering, I need the protectiveness, I need the banter. 

I also need Chang Geng conspiring to marry Shen Yi off quickly so that he can have Gu Yun all to himself lol but lbr here if we can get an ending for this show from Tencent that even breathes the same atmosphere of air as satisfactory I will praise the heavens

The Bone of Impurity. I don’t know to what extent they will cover this or if they would do it the way the book does it, but this being an element that is integral to Chang Geng, I would be surprised if they dropped it entirely. So yeah, I am looking forward to seeing Chang Geng fretting and worrying and getting Bone of Impurity attacks.

Just the way that Gu Yun allows himself to be cared for my Chang Geng and how Chang Geng lets Gu Yun care for him

I want one acupuncture hedgehog scene please and thank you

I do want to see how they handle Chang Geng and his elder half-brother; how that dynamic unfolds will be something to pay some attention to, I think

Oh! That moment when Chang Geng kneels down in front of his brother and tells him to please bury any talk of his marriage and revealing to his brother the scars that he carries from his time living under Hu Ge Er’s roof (this is one brand of Whump that I promise you will hurt you very badly and it will be very good)

The argument at Jiangnan is something I really think will also make the final cut. It wouldn’t make sense to drop it seeing as this is a pivotal shift in their relationship where Chang Geng is finally holding his ground and not bending over backwards and believing everything his Yi Fu says. And this was the catalyst for their four year separation so yeah. I hope they do this justice.

I am not a betting person, but I high key bet that the scene between Gu Yun and the previous Emperor where he tells the man, “If you go, then I won’t have anyone left” and this being the moment that softens the dying fucker’s heart enough to give him a bracelet of beads that will be a major plot point towards the end

THE. BATTLE. SCENES.

Things I am hoping will happen:

At this point, speculation is that the point that tripped Winner Is King up for a recheck was the politics. This year is the 100th anniversary of the founding of the Communist Party in China and rumour has it that shit be sieving thick and so a lot of shows are erring on the side of caution. 

Politics is the highest likelihood of a recheck but I am hoping that it won’t be dumbed down or watered down too much because the politics and the way things played out in the book was absolutely divine and I really want to see that court intrigue and scheming and interplay unfold.

I’ve mentioned in my most recent podcast episode that I am banking on this show to scratch my itch for a Nirvana in Fire level of plottiness and infinite craftiness of the characters and I am crossing all fingers and toes for that to happen because All! The! Characters! Hold! Their! Own! And I need to see that play out please I am not asking for much...

The final sea battle with the Pope. I wouldn’t even know where they would even begin to shoot that scene but this is something I would love to see happen.

The Bone of Impurity attack after Gu Yun sneakily left the capital. That was the scene that caught me and hooked, lined and sinkered me for Chang Geng as a character. Listening to this scene be brought to life in the audio drama has really hammered it home that if they make this bit into the show, I will watch and weep if it is done right. 

Cao Niangzi being Cao Niangzi. I am thinking it might not happen the way I want, but I just need them to get them right.

Ge Chen peeing on the enemy’s face. Please. I laughed so hard. I need this. It will be a balm to my soul.

Please, I need Gu Yun’s soul crushing flute playing like I need Gong Jun to always be absolutely horrible at singing because baby this is your niche and this is your charm own it work it

I also need Gu Yun stealing a bamboo flute from a 10 year old because he got jealous please and thank you

Any flashback of Chang Geng and Hu Ge Er before Yanhui Town

I want to see that moment that Gu Yun hears first hand from someone who had knowledge of what Hu Ge Er would do to a baby Chang Geng and the horrible abuse she inflicted on him, because up to that point, he only knew that something went on, but never to the extent that revelation wrought unto him

Any of the Bone of Impurity moments; any mention of it, any visual representation of it... Gosh, just the idea of having the Bone of Impurity made visual is just... Ugh. Yes. Please. The suffering.

[bonus] Things I wish will happen but will probably not:

The hot spring scene or a version of it

An implication that baby cannibalism was involved in the making of a Bone of Impurity

The scene where they get to the goddess doll (the description of it in the book was so bone chilling and if they do this I will have nightmares, I’m just warning you)

I really, really want a scene where, after being crowned Emperor, Chang Geng goes to the frontlines to reclaim the South and upon hearing that he was there, Gu Yun immediately panicked like he was about to be caught with his pants down doing something illegal when all he did was ordered his subordinates to keep news of his injuries from being reported back to the capital

Any flashback of Chang Geng and Hu Ge Er before Yanhui Town; especially when they were with the Barbarians

I want to see some version of Hu Ge Er realising what she has done to her own child and to Chang Geng

Okay this got super long but what are you guys looking forward to seeing when Winner is King hits our screens? I’m looking forward to creating content for this fandom when it hits ೕ(˃̵ᴗ˂̵ ๑) In the meantime, sound off on what you’re expecting and what you’re maybe wary about!

[slytherinnbitch]

Warning- This is pure smut so don't read it if you're not into that.

I wrote this as a celebration for my 100th post on Instagram, so I hope you like it!

Remus wakes up to Sirius drawing intricate patterns on his stomach, making all the damn butterflies flutter deliciously. He looks at Sirius but doesn't stop him, enjoying the lazy morning they have after so many exhausting weeks.

His fingers slowly start moving upwards, caressing the outline of his ribs then moving to his nipples which are already hard. His nail scarps his right one just slightly before he moves to the other one, doing the same before moving upwards again. Tracing imaginery lines all over his abdomen, before starting at his throat, touching his Adam's apple in the faintest of touches before moving to his jawline and finally his lips. He traces the line of his lips once, twice, three times before following his path down to Remus's stomach again.

Just as his fingernails tease the hard nub, Sirius leans up and licks a stripe off his throat, before grazing his lips lightly at his earlobe, in slow, steady movements like he got all the time in the world.

His hand starts exploring his hips when Remus's breath hitches and he gasps loudly. Sirius just smirks beside him and continues his ministrations. They are both naked and it takes all of Remus's self control to not buck his hips or just grab Sirius and fuck the daylights out of him. For once, he lets him do what he pleases without any sort of hindrance. Just as soon as Sirius realises that Remus isn't going to provide any sort of resistance, his touches get bolder, slower; almost lazy.

He starts touching Remus's cock, just lightly to push him to the edge but nowhere near enough to make him come. Remus likes this new side of Sirius, usually it's him calling the shots but for once he gets to sit back and let Sirius have his way. Suddenly Sirius gets up and looks Remus directly in his eyes, lust and excitement evident in his eyes.

"Can I blow you?" He asks so earnestly and eagerly that it makes Remus's heart ache.

"Of course, love. Whatever you want." Remus smiles at him as he goes down on him and settles between his legs.

Sirius looks up at him innocently before taking a long, slow lick of his entire length, before swirling his tongue over his slit, tasting the dripping pre-cum there, all the while looking into his eyes. His hands roam all over his hips before finally placing them on either side to keep him in place. He licks at the junction between his stomach and cock, before nuzzling against his cock, smiling as he does so. Remus tries to be perfectly still, letting Sirius play with him all he wants but it's really tough.

It gets tougher when Sirius kisses his slit again, this time taking his entire length into his mouth and Remus unconsciously bucks his hips upwards, into his husband's warm and wet mouth.

He feels his tongue swirle ceaselessly against his sensitive skin and he tangles his fingers in Sirius's hair, pulling slightly. Sirius doubles his effort, bobbing his head over and over again.

"Fuck Pads......" Remus groans as sensation overtakes him. He arcs back, closing his eyes and moaning loudly.

He barely has the time to warn Sirius before he comes in his mouth loudly. Sirius bobs his head again before pulling out, he licks Remus's sensitive length again before coming up to his side.

He smiles at Remus and captures his lips in a heated kiss. Remus can taste himself in his mouth and that makes him moan into Sirius's mouth.

"Let me....let me take care of you." He says after returning back to Earth, as he looks at Sirius's straining member. Sirius nods his consent and Remus snakes his hand down to capture his aching cock.

He thumbs over the slit, spreading the pre-cum all over, before tugging up and down his length in slow, deliberate moves. Neither slowing nor quickening his pace, making Sirius groan beside him.

"Re.....fuck....I can't-" he whispers against him but Remus just smirks, still moving his hand in that teasing pace. He kisses Sirius sweetly and whispers against his lips, "You can, just a few more minutes."

Sirius nods but doesn't say anything else, lost in sensation. Just when Sirius thinks he can't last much longer, Remus fastens his pace. Kissing him fiercely while tugging at his length.

Sirius comes with a loud groan, dripping come all over their stomachs and chests. He closes his eyes and gives himself to the sensation, feeling the high. He opens his eyes a few moments later to find Remus's smiling at him. He leans forward and kisses him and vanishes the mess between them.

"Fuck that was amazing." Sirius says, wrapping his arms around Remus's waist.

"Hell yeah, it was." Remus replies, cuddling him.

"I love you, Re." Sirius whispers after many silent moments. "I love you too, Pads. So much." Remus kisses his forehead and they both find themselves drifting off.

[btsqualityy]

Scripted: Part 19

Namjoon x Reader; Jimin x Reader

Genre: Angst, fluff, President!Namjoon, Head of Security!Jimin

Warnings: (Reluctant) open relationship, mentions of cheating, emotional/mental manipulation

“Are we sure that none of our men had anything to do with the shooting?” Kim Sang-hoon asked, for what felt like the 100th time in the 30 short minutes that Jimin had been called into a meeting in Namjoon’s office, along with the other members of the security detail. 

“Everyone has been vetted, they’re clean,” Jimin assured him. 

“How can you be so sure?” Sang-hoon pressed and Jimin wanted to claw his own fucking eyes out in annoyance. 

“Dad, stop,” Namjoon spoke up, making everyone look over at him where he sat at the head of the large rectangular table. “Now, while I appreciate your eagerness in making sure that what happened a month ago doesn’t occur again, I trust that Jimin nor anyone else at this table had anything to do with the shooting. Also, the committee that was put together to find the assassins are sure that the three people they have in custody acted alone.”

“You can never be too sure with these types of things, Namjoon-ah,” Sang-hoon replied and Namjoon nodded.

“I know, which is why Jimin has come up with some new and improved security measures for us,” Namjoon said as he raised his hand and motioned to Jimin. “Go ahead.”

“All cars and limousines are being outfitted with new bulletproof glass, bulletproof tires, and new senors underneath. All routes taken by chauffeurs will be changed regularly, so that they don’t become too predictable. The President and First Lady’s public event schedules won’t be released until the morning of the event and at said event, there will be an increased presence of armed guards in addition to our regular security detail,” Jimin explained. “Also, at large scale events where there are a lot of people present, we will have armed snipers stationed on top of every building that’s visible.”

“Armed snipers?” A member of the security detail, Jaebum, spoke up. “Aren’t those usually reserved for occasions of the utmost importance?”

“I think that any occasion to protect our President is pretty important, yes?” Jimin wondered with an arched brow and Jaebum quickly nodded in agreement. 

“Well, I for one think that those measures are a great start,” Namjoon said.

“I agree, but we also don’t want people to think that the shooting has made you soft,” Sang-hoon pointed out.

“Right, but there’s nothing wrong with a little extra precaution,” Namjoon chuckled. “I know my wife would be happy for the extra peace of mind that it would afford her.” Jimin had to shut his eyes momentarily to stop himself from rolling them at how casually Namjoon had mentioned you, because Jimin knew that he probably only did that because Jimin was present. When Jimin opened his eyes again, he caught Sang-hoon eyeing him weirdly but he decided to ignore it. 

“I am drawing up some more plans as well, which I’ll bring to you once I work out the logistics,” Jimin told Namjoon. 

“Great, I’ll look forward to them,” Namjoon nodded curtly. “You’re all dismissed.” Jimin began to gather up his papers and binder while the rest of the security detail hurriedly grabbed their notebooks and filed out of the room in a quick line. Jimin was the last one to pass through the door of Namjoon’s office, making it about halfway down the hall to his office before he heard his name called.

“Park!” Jimin turned around and he’d be lying if he said that he weren’t surprised to see Sang-hoon walking out of Namjoon’s office and over to him. 

“Yes Sir?” Jimin replied. 

“I was wondering if I could talk to you about something,” Sang-hoon requested and Jimin nodded while shrugging. 

“Sure, come into my office,” Jimin said, turning around and leading the way to his office, opening the door and allowing Sang-hoon to step inside first before following behind him and shutting the door. 

“What is it that you wanted to speak to me about?” Jimin wondered as he walked around his desk, setting his binder down on top before lowering himself down into his desk chair. 

“I wanted to talk to you about your involvement with my daughter-in-law,” Sang-hoon stated. “Whatever is going on between the two of you, it needs to stop today.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what you’re talking about Sir,” Jimin feigned innocence, making Sang-hoon scoff as he stepped closer to the desk and set his hands on top of it, slightly leaning over it towards Jimin. 

“Don’t play dumb with me kid,” Sang-hoon warned. “I’ve been doing this longer than you’ve been alive.”

“What, cheating on your wife?” Jimin guessed and he took a little bit of pleasure in the way that Sang-hoon’s eyes slightly widened, not expecting that answer. “If that’s what you’re referring to, then I’d definitely agree.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about kid,” Sang-hoon chuckled darkly. “Men like me, men like my son, we live a certain lifestyle that men like you could only dream about in your wildest fantasies.”

“Oh, you mean the lifestyle that includes manipulating your broken hearted daughter-in-law into taking back your son who doesn’t deserve her?” Jimin laughed. “Yeah, you can keep telling yourself that.”

“I didn’t manipulate her, I just helped her see what was right in front of her, which is what I’m trying to do for you,” Sang-hoon said and Jimin raised an eyebrow at him. 

“Ok, I’ll bite,” Jimin shrugged. “What am I not seeing?”

“You’re not seeing the fact that your relationship with Y/N is not going to go anywhere,” Sang-hoon told him. “Namjoon told me about how she made a great, big declaration the night of the shooting that she was going to divorce him but she still hasn’t done it yet. Why do you think that is?”

“Because of the shooting,” Jimin answered without hesitation. “She felt bad about wanting to leave him after all of that so she needs time.”

“Or she came to her senses and realized that there was no future for her with a pawn,” Sang-hoon rebutted. 

“A pawn?” Jimin laughed. “Do you think she’s using me or something?”

“Partly,” Sang-hoon responded. “That, and also the fact that she’s too damned nice for her own good and isn’t sure how to let you down easy so she just keeps stringing you along.”

“She is not stringing me along, or using me,” Jimin scoffed. “She’d never do that, not to me or anyone else.”

“Look,Y/N is the type of woman that needs constant and consistent love and attention and while my son is out running this amazing country of ours, he isn’t always able to cater to her needs,” Sang-hoon explained. “Now, where do you think Y/N went looking for that love and attention?”

“I know what you’re hinting at, and it couldn’t be further from the truth,” Jimin told him. “And plus, even if she did come to me looking for love and affection only, I’m pretty sure it’s because President Kim takes after you in regards to how you treat the women in your life.”

“They have an arrangement.”

“That you manipulated her into,” Jimin chuckled. “So we’re back to that point.”

“Look Jimin, you’re a smart kid. Even I know that much,” Sang-hoon huffed. “Assuming that she’s told you everything that has transpired between those two, do you really think any woman who’s been through all of that would even hesitate at leaving if she were serious about doing so?” Jimin stared at Sang-hoon for a few seconds before lowering his gaze down to his desk and thinking about his question, because Sang-hoon did make a valid point.

“She hasn’t left him because she’s still in love with him,” Sang-hoon answered for him once a few seconds had passed without any response from Jimin. “They’ve been in each other’s lives for almost 10 years now and have seen each other through the highest of highs and lowest of lows. Do you really think you can compete with that?”

“But she loves me,” Jimin murmured softly, almost as if he were trying to convince and remind himself at the same time. 

“She probably does,” Sang-hoon nodded in agreement. “But just like Namjoon, just like me and hell, even just like you, she has an immense sense of duty inside of her. Part of her duty, as both Namjoon’s wife and First Lady of South Korea, is to be the backbone. Do you think that she’s really going to let everything fall apart at her feet because she fell in love and decided to leave?”

“No,” Jimin replied honestly.

“And you Jimin, you know what your duty is too,” Sang-hoon said and Jimin looked up at him. “So you need to decided what’s more important here: pursuing a love with someone who’s unobtainable, or your sense of duty to do the right thing?”

.............................................

“You’re an absolute idiot, but that’s just my own personal opinion,” Momo said as she moved about Taehyung’s office, shuffling past where you sat on the edge of the desk as you watched her look for some files. 

“You think so?” You wondered and Momo nodded her head, opening up a file cabinet and literally almost sticking her entire head inside as she searched for what she was looking for. 

“I understand that Namjoon has been trying, but it’s too late for trying,” Momo muttered. “He’s done you so wrong over the past year and he doesn’t deserve your forgiveness.” 

“But we’ve been in each other’s lives for almost 10 years,” you sighed. “I do love him, even though he’s a dickhead.”

“And you can love him, no one’s saying that that’s wrong,” Momo replied, lifting her head after finding the files that she had been looking for. “But you have Jimin in your life now.”

“So you think that I should go with him?” You questioned, watching as Momo walked back over to the desk and plopped down in the chair that was behind it. 

“Y/N, I haven’t seen you smile the way that you do when you see Jimin in over a year, and I missed it,” Momo smiled lightly. “He makes you happy and after everything that you’ve been through, you deserve to be happy and I wish you could see that.”

“I do see it, I just can’t get over everything that I’ll be leaving behind,” you admitted. “Namjoon is familiar, the life that I have as First Lady is familiar. Not to mention the fact that I have an obligation to not only Joon, but the country.”

“You can’t let that completely dictate your life though,” Momo replied. “You need to chose the man who you know for a fact you can be happy with, and you know as well as I do who that man is.”

“I do,” you nodded, taking a deep breath to steady yourself because you now knew exactly what you needed to do. You jumped down off of the desk and stepped over to Momo, wrapping your arms around her shoulders and hugging her tightly. “I love you so much Mo. Thank you for being here for me.”

“I’m your best friend, it’s my job,” she chuckled. “But I love you too. Now go get your man.”

“I’ll see you later,” you promised, standing up straight and quickly walking out of the office, immediately heading down the hall to Jimin’s office. You raised your hand and knocked on the door three times, before you heard Jimin’s voice from inside.

“Come in,” he said and when you opened the door, your jaw instantly dropped at the sight in front of you. All of the pictures of his family that had hung on the walls were now gone, along with all of the little knick knacks that had lined his desk. The only thing that was on his desk now were two large brown boxes, which Jimin was putting things into when you opened the door.

“What’s going on?” You asked as you stepped inside, shutting the office down behind you. Obviously not expecting to see you. Jimin sighed heavily before looking up at you. 

“I’m cleaning out my office,” he said and you raised an eyebrow.

“Are you switching offices or something?” You chuckled.

“No, I’m quitting,” Jimin announced and your eyes instantly widened.

“What?”

“I’m quitting,” he repeated. “I handed my resignation in to President Kim about 30 minutes ago.”

“Did Namjoon have something to do with this?” You demanded to know. “I swear, I’m gonna kill him.”

“He had nothing to do with this, this is all me,” Jimin told you, putting the last of his belongings into the last box before using some tape to seal it shut. 

“Well, why are you quitting?” You wondered. 

“I can’t do this anymore Y/N,” Jimin said. “We were never meant to work, and I know that so I’m cutting my losses now.”

“Jimin, no,” you pleaded, watching in horror as he stacked one box on top of the other before picking them up and walking around the back of the desk. “I love you.”

“Please don’t make this harder than it already is,” he said with teary eyes and you instantly shut your mouth at the sight. “Now, I love you too but we never had a chance in all of this. I never had a chance in all of this and I just need to accept that.”

“But you do!” You shouted.

“Remember how I asked you to be honest with me?” He said and you nodded your head. “Well, you just broke that promise right now by lying to me. We never would’ve made it and you know that as well as I do.”

“Jimin,” you whispered but Jimin just shook his head, and you knew that anything else you could say would only fall on deaf ears. 

“Goodbye baby bird,” he murmured, stepping around you and opening the door to his office, stepping out and letting the door close shut behind him. As soon as you heard the door click shut, the dam inside of you burst and the tears that you’d been holding back started to stream down your face, the pain of Jimin walking out on you causing what felt like a deep crack in your heart. 

.............................................

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[workingforitallthetime]

@ticklefighthockey tagged me to share a line from my current WIP. i have three i’m actively writing in right now, and i need to start just posting jack/ty scenes for funsies because they probably won’t ever become an entire fic. here, have this bit from the 2022-23 season. hmmm who hasn’t been tagged maybe @bigbrotherlouis?

*

“Hey.” It’s not like Jack to remember it at all. It’s the kind of thing somebody else will put on his calendar, safe for him to forget about until the notification pops up. But a couple of days later, on their way home from morning skate, something about Ty fishing his key out of his pocket reminds him. “Hey, Erika’s coming to do an apartment tour thing.” Ty’s always the one who unlocks their door, just because he always remembers to get out his key while they’re still in the elevator. “I told her Wednesday would work.”

“Like, content?” Ty pauses with his key still in the deadbolt. “You think that’s a good idea?”

Jack hitches his backpack up one shoulder. “The cleaners come that morning, right?”

“Yeah, but.” Ty opens the door and tosses his keyring on the table in the entryway. Jack follows him inside and down the hall, dumping his backpack on the floor. Ty leans his shoulder against the wall where the hallway opens up into the main space of the apartment. He crosses his arms. “Like… look at it.”

Jack tries to pretend he’s never seen their place before, scanning it for anything eye-catching. No obvious liquor bottles. Edibles buried in the back of the freezer. There’s a lot of shoes lying around at the moment, but the cleaners will line them up.

Nothing out of the ordinary, just a basic living room/dining room/kitchen, with the walls interspersed with a haphazard assortment of framed pucks and team photos and shadowboxed medals. Jack used to keep that shit in his bedroom, but when Ty carried in the frame with the puck from his 100th point, Jack hammered it up in the living room. It had a nice picture from Ty’s goal that night, big dopey grin on his face. Ty chirped him about it and Jack hung his Olympic medal next to it, just to be obnoxious about it. Ty wrestled the hammer from him and added his gold medal from world juniors, the one thing he’s got on Jack. They kept up the arms race until the walls were covered. It’s not exactly organized, but so what. They’re hockey players, not interior decorators. He shrugs at Ty.

Ty makes a little circling gesture with one finger, like go on.

Jack rolls his eyes. He doesn’t bother opening the door to the guest suite off the living room, since it’s just blank. It’s the third bedroom they’ll have to clean up, for sure. He heads down the hallway between the kitchen and the dining space and leans his head in. Foam rollers on the floor, golf bags in the corner, a mess of all the clothes and gear and paperwork that doesn’t fit anywhere else in the apartment. A bunch of Devils-branded workout clothes and some resistance bands are piled on the bed, along with some stacks of maybe junk mail/maybe not that both of them keep forgetting to deal with. Nobody’s slept there since… since Case got sent to Binghamton and never really came back, he guesses. Early on last season.

It’s not until Jack crosses the hallway to the master suite that it clicks. It’s the double sinks in the bathroom that do it, each of them with a different set of deodorant and shaving cream and facewash clustered around the tap. He backs up, past the walk-in closet with most of their clothes crammed messily together, past the chargers and water bottles on each of the bedside tables. Past the bed where Ty fucked him for the first time a year ago.

Jack thunks the side of his head against the bedroom door frame. “Well, shit.”

Ty comes up behind him. “Cleaners aren’t gonna solve that one.”

“Goddamn, we’re really not apartment tour material, huh?” Jack leans back against Ty and laughs past the tightness in his chest. He really did come that close to letting team media in here, without a second thought, blowing it all wide open. When did the apartment even get like this? So obvious? So... couple-y?

It wasn’t last year, when Case was their roommate for that bit of time. Or over the summer, when Luke stayed there for development camp. It probably started when Ty got back for camp in the fall, letting go of his suitcases when Jack crashed into him so hard the front door rattled in its frame. He pressed his entire body against Ty’s for the first time in three months and swore he wasn’t doing this next summer. They could stay here, train here. Or he could go to Canada, whatever. Ty walked him backwards toward bed, and the suitcases stayed in the entryway, and as they got gradually unpacked the contents mostly ended up in Jack’s bedroom and Ty’s bedroom stayed summer-empty.

[defkooka]

best night of our lives | mark lee

pairing: mark x reader

genre: lifeguardau, highschoolau, just straight up shy mark and romanceee

word count: 6.4k

summary: no one told you that spending the entire summer with the cute black aired lifeguard was going to go this way.

a/n: heyyyy i’m back after like a solid year lol. this one was in the drafts from a VERY old request so i got bored and decided to finish it. anywaysss mark lee is best boy. i said what i said. IF YOU WANT TO REQUEST ANYTHING, THEYRE OPEN!

“do you ever wonder how we can like... see? like what makes it possible for our brains to see colors and stuff like that?” mark said from beside you on the high life guard chair that overlooked the giant pool.

“i don’t know mark. why is the sky blue? what’s the difference between a #1 and #2 pencil?” you craned your neck to look at the dark haired boy next to you from under your sunglasses.

“touché” he squinted his eyes at you and turned his head back to the pool with a smile as he looked over the swimming bodies.

this is what your summer has consisted of so far. just you and mark sitting under an umbrella while you watch people splash around in the water under the scorching summer heat everyday.

being a lifeguard at the pool was a job you couldn’t miss the chance on. you get to sit around all day and watch people swim and get payed a fair amount of money for it. couldn’t get better than that right? oh but it does.

what you didn’t know you were gonna walk into the first day of work was the cute, soft, and nice boy that would sit under the umbrella with you. everyday.

every time you would walk out into the pool, mark was already sitting on the lifeguard chair. once he noticed you he would give you a friendly smile and a small wave of his hand that would just melt your heart because, how can someone so cute exist?

you had to admit to yourself that you had the slightest crush on mark ever since you met him in science class back in freshman year. he wasn’t much of a talker but still a very friendly person. but oh boy could he get loud. you both shared some mutual friends so it didn’t take much for you two to become friends also. mark is someone who could make you laugh just by doing the bare minimum. if you were ever in the same room, just a small lock of your eyes can send you two into a giggling mess, this also being the cause of you and mark getting in trouble with your teacher many times that same year.

you initially thought that your friendship with mark would just be a class thing; probably never to see him outside of school unless you run into him on the street. but once he told you that he had gotten a job as a lifeguard at your local pool, you were shocked to know that you were also going to be working there for the summer and you couldn’t help the wide smile that overcame you finding out that you were going to spend more time with this cute and silly boy.

but what surprised you the most was the fact that you guys got put in the same shift, meaning you had to share the giant lifeguard chair with him all day. not like you were complaining anyway.

“hey, um are you maybe doing anything this weekend?” marks eyes drifted to his thick thighs as he played with the hem of his bright red swimming shorts, avoiding your eyes as much as he could.

“no, why?” you slid down your sunglasses to get a better look at him.

“well, uh-” he swallowed the lump of nerves in his throat and you noticed how adorable he looked when he was nervous.

“mark!” he was interrupted by the sound of a loud high-pitched voice who belong to no other than one of your closest friends; chenle.

you both snapped your heads towards the loud voice and noticed two other of your friends walking along side him; jisung and donghyuck. they smiled and waved at you guys and you mirrored their actions back with a grin.

“what’s up love birds?” donghyuck climbed up a few of the steps and placed his hands on the seat to keep himself balanced and not fall backwards into the shallow pool.

you could feel mark stir from next to you and let out an awkward cough to ease the sudden weirdness in the air. you on the other hand felt a giggle and a soft laugh escape your mouth with a shake of your head at the brown haired boy in front of you.

donghyuck was probably the only person who knew of this crush you had on mark. telling chenle and jisung would practically be yelling it out into the world. donghyuck still respected your wishes as to not tell anyone, but that still didn’t stop him from throwing little comments here and there like the one he just did.

“what are you guys doing here?” you leaned back into the chair and watched the 3 boys in front of you.

“our shift is almost starting” chenle said as he looked over the people swimming in the pool. “there’s probably so much pee in there” he whispered to himself but was clearly heard as you and jisung looked at each other with a roll of your eyes.

“say y/n? you happen to have a boyfriend or something at the moment?” donghyuck said which made everyone stop what they were doing and eyes lock on you. you were taken aback by the randomness of his question and suddenly felt nervous all of the sudden. you weren’t dating anyone as of right now because of the massive crush on mark; but you felt embarrassed to say that out loud and even more with mark sitting so close next to you.

“i-y’know! that’s not a-appropriate to ask right n-now hyuck!” you pinched the side of his arm, making him stumble back onto the ground; rubbing his hand up and down the now red spot. “i was just curious” he pouted his lips but that soon turned into a laugh when his eyes landed on red-eared mark.

“would you look at the time! our shift is over, have fun guys!” you quickly hopped off the tall chair and put on your red sandals and said a quick goodbye before your cheeks flushed more than they already had. mark probably thinks you’re a loser now. why didn’t you just answered the question with a simple no and let it go! why did you have to get so flustered! especially in front of mark.

“why are you walking so fast?” you heard mark say from behind you making you abruptly stop on your tracks; almost making him crash into you before he caught himself.

“why are you here?” you said too fast for your liking.

“we have the same shift remember?” mark said with a chuckle making you feel your body overheat for what seemed like the 100th time today. why must his cuteness have such an effect on you?! you let out a small ‘oh’ and slowed your steps so he now was walking right beside you.

“hey, remember when i asked you if you were doing something this weekend?” he finally broke the silence when you two reached the entrance outside the locker rooms. 

“y-yeah” you spoke hesitantly.

“well, um. there’s this party donghyuck is throwing, you heard of it?”

“yeah actually, he mentioned it to me the other day.” your palms started sweating as you didn’t know exactly where he was going with his questions.

“good, so uh, um i was wondering if, you know since you aren’t doing anything, would you like to come...with me?” he looked at you with hope in his eyes while he bit his bottom lip a little, hands stuffed down his pockets in fists.

at this point your mind went blank. was mark lee really asking you out after you completely embarrassed yourself in front of him? this must be some type of sick joke the universe is playing on you.

“oh. yes, i would love to” you smiled up at the boy and it seemed like all the nerves were replaced with a shy grin.

“cool, cool. so i’ll pick you up?” he shyly smiled and tilted his head to the side.

“sounds good” you smiled back at him and laughed a little.

“i’ll see you then.” he began walking backwards towards the boys side of the locker rooms while you stood in the entrance looking like a love-struck teenager. well, technically you were.

“yeah. i’ll see you.” you finally turned around once you saw him go in with a huge smile on his face.

guess you weren’t embarrassed in front of the boy you had a massive crush on after all. but that doesn’t mean you still aren’t going to kill donghyuck.

“you know, you should try and breathe once every 2 seconds. just saying” hyuck said from the other end of the line.

you were currently running up and down your room trying to find something decent to wear for the party, which was in like 2 hours. great time management.

“i can’t show up looking like a bum hyuck, plus-“ you stopped mid sentence as you pulled a shirt from the bottom of your closet with all your force, sending you flying flat on your ass with a soft oof once you finally got it out.

“mark fucking lee asked me to go WITH him, not just a ‘oh you should show up’ no no no no, he used an actual ‘with me’”, you crawled your way over to your computer where half of donghyucks face was shown as he was having an intense stare down with the tv in front of him, his fingers scrambling all over the place on his controller.

“it’s mark we’re talking about here. trust me, he’s not going to notice what you’re wearing- FUCK” he screamed at the tv as you heard gunshots and then it going silent, he probably lost at whatever game he was losing his brain cells to this time.

“i know but i still want to look somewhat presentable. i don’t want tonight to go horribly bad and have him never speak to me ever again.” you pouted as you finally saw his eyes look over at you since the last 20 minutes.

“alright, game plan. put on something nice, get all dolled up and let me know once you and mark get here, i will make sure nothing too out of pocket happens tonight so you and prince charming can run off and get married, okay?” he raised one eyebrow and you smiled into the camera.

“yes! thanks hyuckie” you grinned at him and blew him a kiss.

“yeah, yeah, whatever. i have to go, jeno and renjun are probably gonna be here any second to help me set up fro the bangerrr.” he shoved his face into the camera and made a disgusted face before he hung up without even allowing you to say a proper goodbye.

after another 40 minutes of looking for something you finally settled on your favorite shirt with a pair of black jeans and went on to get ready.

after putting on your clothes and making sure your hair didn’t look a mess, your phone vibrated on your desk.

mark:D : i’ll be there in 2 :)

“oh shit” the nerves finally started creeping up on you as you replied an ‘okay’ and quickly sent it.

hopefully this night doesn’t turn out to be horrible. what could possibly go wrong right? hyuck said he’s gonna have everything under control and try and make things run smoothly so you had nothing to worry about.

as you ran around your room getting the last of your things ready, you heard a knock on your front door.

you walked down the hall towards the door to making sure you had everything from your phone to your keys. you stood in front of the door taking in a big breath and calming down the nerves running through your body.

you opened the door to reveal mark standing in front of you with all his glory. his hands were clasped in front of him as he he rubbed them up and down. when his eyes landed on you, he looked like a deer caught in the headlights.

“hey mark” you smiled and you seemed the relax at the fact that he seemed more nervous than you were. his eyes slightly softened as he stared at you and gave you a cute smile.

“hey, nice house” he awkwardly said as he looked around your front porch. you looked at him for a few seconds before bursting into laughs, him along with you.

“yeah, yeah pretty nice huh?” you both looked at each other before breaking into smiles. “ready to go?” he put his arm out for you take; which you gladly did.

it was a short ride to donghyucks house, time seemed to pass by quick since you and mark were cracking stupid silly jokes the whole way there. time always seemed to be going fast when you were around mark, even when you guys are at work. mark radiates this energy around him that’s so calming, he has these awkward moments from time to time, but those moments are your favorites because of how easy you both are able to laugh them off and move on to the next topic. that’s one of the main reasons why you liked him so much, being around him just made you comfortable and calm.

“do you think there’s a lot of people there already?” mark asked as you both saw the front door get closer and closer. the loud bass of the music could be heard all he way from outside in the front yard, but there was no view of the inside hence the curtains were closed.

“i don’t know, i doubt donghyuck would make it a big thing anyway.” oh boy how wrong you were.

as soon as you and mark stepped foot inside of the house, there were heads everywhere you turned. it was a sea of people in the living room dancing to some loud song you couldn’t recognize. the heavy smell of alcohol invaded your senses and made you scrunch your nose in distaste.

“holy shit. how the hell are we supposed to make it past all these people?” you got closer to marks ear to yell into it as he leaned down to listen. you doubt if you tried to speak in a normal tone he could hear, you could barely even hear your own thoughts.

“hold on” mark said into your ear as you felt a tight grip on your hand. he held you close to his body and you felt the heat radiating from it. he navigated you guys through the sea of grinding bodies against each other. he made sure to look back at you every so often to make sure you didn’t get lost or someone bumped into you.

you guys finally made it into the kitchen were it seemed to be less people. a couple of groups talking or slowly dancing to the music with cups in their hands.

“you want a drink?” mark looked at you with a raised eyebrow. you didn’t respond back immediately, your attention still on the fact that your fingers were interlaced with one another. you looked at your hands and back up at his brown eyes. he seemed to catch on and quickly glanced at your hands before letting go with a blush tainting his soft skin.

he mumbled a small sorry and looked around the kitchen nervously. a giggle left your lips as you reached back for his hand and intertwined your fingers together again. his head snapped back at your hands again and quickly up to your eyes, the same blush now racing to his ears. he nervously laughed and kept his eyes locked on yours.

“i’m not a big drinker actually.” you smiled up at him and he nodded his head in agreement.

“good. me neither, i can’t hold down alcohol for too long. after the first 2 hours it gets ugly.” you both laughed.

“how about just juice for now?” you dragged him towards the counter where you found bottles of juice, probably as chasers. you emptied them in solo cups, handing one to mark as he took it from your hand; fingers brushing against each other. he smiled as a way of saying thank you and took a sip from the cup as he looked around inspecting the scene.

“yo!” you looked over marks shoulder and saw a tipsy, soon to be drunk, donghyuck approach you guys with a cup in his hand.

“soo how you guys liking the party?” he wrapped an arm around marks shoulders and looked around at the mass of people.

“there’s a lot more people than i expected here.” you said over the music.

“i know right! i invited a few people from school but i guess those people invited people, and then those people invited more people.” he said with a shrug of his shoulder and taking a sip from his almost empty cup.

“dude your house is going to be a trashed in the morning” mark said while he also took a sip of his drink.

“nah, upstairs is off limits anyway. except for you guys of course.” hyuck smirked at you and nodged mark. you and mark made eye contact while he tried to awkwardly laugh hyucks comment away.

“alright that’s enough. me and mark are off” you grab marks hand and dragged him away from hyucks tight grasp on him. you spot the door of the backyard open and head for it with mark hot on your heels.

once you guys get outside you spot way less people out here than inside, pixie lights light up the dark night along with the stars looking down at you. the music quietens as you both slowly walk towards a pair of chairs in a more secluded area under a tall tree, a few feet away from everyone else.

“is this okay?” you ask as you take a seat while mark drags his chair closer to yours and faces you.

“yeah, this is great actually. i’m not much of a party person anyway. i only show up to these things for the guys.” he plays with the hem of his cup.

“yeah me too. there’s just something about sweaty people grinding on each other that just doesn’t sit right with me.” you shake your head and you hear mark laugh next to you. you immediately look over to not miss the beautiful smile that drags over his face, bringing one just as big to yours.

“parties are great to be honest. but only if you’re with the right person for the night.” he looks at you before looking off into the house.

you smile and decided to take this as your chance to tease him a little.

“oh really? please elaborate for me mark lee” you turn your body to face him better and lean your body towards your legs, using your elbows as support, your body now inches away from him.

he looked over when he felt you move and looked into your eyes and that’s when you noticed how close you guys actually got, but that didn't stop you from continuing.

“i-i mean well, y’know. when you’re around the right person, you could have one of the best nights of your life. you could either be dancing the night away, or just y’know, sitting down and just endlessly talk to them.” he looked down at his shoes while he spoke and once he was done he glanced back at your eyes only to see them stare right back into his.

“wow, i didn’t know you were that deep. don’t worry, i’ll try and live up to the expectations tonight and make this one of the best nights of your life” you said with a smirk. you don’t know where all this boldness was coming from considering the fact that you were just having a mental breakdown over an outfit not even an hour ago, but you liked it.

“and i’ll try to make this one of the best nights of your life y/n” he raised his cup for you to clink yours against and you both took sips of your drinks while stealing little glances at each other.

“you guys are so lame” you both craned your necks to look at the four boys approaching you guys. “you’re sitting outside away from everyone while there’s a big ass party going on right inside” renjun said while he leaned into jeno to his left.

“so? maybe we wanted to have a good conversation without 4 idiots interrupting us” you perked up and commented with sarcasm while mark laughed, wow it is so easy to make this boy laugh.

“alright, alright point. sorry, we didn’t mean to interrupt your little date” chenle smiled and gave mark a wiggle of his eyebrows while mark looked like he just got caught with his hand inside the cookie jar.

“date?” you teased and looked over at mark with a goofy grin on your face, but inside you felt like you were just about to explode cause he actually considered this a date with you!

“remind me to never tell you anything ever again. thanks” mark avoided eye contact while he tried to look anywhere but at you.

“y/n, did you know that mark called me 3 times just because he didn’t know what to wear?” jeno joined in on chenles teasing.

“oh yeah, he also texted the group chat saying, ‘oh my god i’m so nervous, will she like this?, should i hold her ha-“ jisung didn’t get to finish his sentence before mark was up on his feet and aggressively covering the younger boys mouth.

“okayyy! that’s enough.” he nervously laughed while giving jisung and the rest of the guys a death glare, but they didn’t seemed to take it seriously by the way they were laughing and continued teasing mark.

“hey, lets head back inside now. i-i’m allergic to pollen” mark scratched his nose and pretended to sniff and it only made a soft giggle escape your lips.

“sure” you followed behind him while you guys made your way inside the busy house once again.

you walked deeper into the house until you were in the main area of the living room staring into the sea of dancing bodies to the beat of the song playing from the speakers spread around. you were mesmerized by how much fun everyone seemed to have. they were all in their own individual worlds with not a care in the world. you weren’t much of a party person but you definitely liked to have a good time from time to time.

marks eyes lingered on your face as you looked into the crowd with little stars twinkling in your eyes. the fluorescent lights where hitting your face just right making you look like a character right from those movies, where in that moment the male lead realizes how much he likes the female lead and he just couldn’t resist himself any longer. you felt marks body press up against your side as he leaned down to whisper in your ear. you felt his hot breath tickling your ear right before he spoke, feeling his lips slightly touch the side of your lobe sending shivers down your spine.

“let’s dance” he grabbed your hand and led you into the center of the dance floor before you could register what was happening. he placed his hands on your hips and your bodies drew closer to one another, you slowly snaked your hands up his arms before they landed on his shoulders, feeling his muscles tighten under your fingertips before relaxing into your touch. your faces were inches from each other and neither one of you could take your eyes away from the other. your bodies recklessly swayed to the loud music, losing yourselves along the way. you could feel his chest raise up and down along with yours. his hands sliding up and down your torso from time to time, feeling all the curves of your body to the upbeat song playing while the vibrations ran up both your bodies. at some point, both you guys stopped moving. the rest of the world around you guys seemed to continue on while you guys were completely frozen in time, a rush of emotions running wild between your burning bodies. you were just two souls standing in a middle of a dance floor, both of your chest heaving up and down on beat with one another. your eyes bore into one another in some kind of game of who would break first. oh how bad you wanted to taste his lips right then and there, but this didn’t seem like the time or place.

“i-i” you tried to catch your breath. “i think i’m ready for that drink now” you whispered and let your forehead meet his, your breath tickling against his lips while he ran his tongue between them to try and moisturize them.

he broke into a sweet smile while running his hands up yours arms that laid on his shoulders and grabbing your interlaced hands around his neck into his and giving them a gentle squeeze. “of course. come on.” he pulled you close behind him and led you through the crowd of people into the kitchen once again.

he poured drinks into two cups for the both of you before handing one to you with a grin. you took it from him and downed the contents in it in record time, trying to cool down your heating body.

mark looked at you with wide eyes before letting a laugh out followed by a small smirk.

“not a big drinker huh? you’re showing severe alcoholism right now y/n.” he took a long swing on his drink.

“me? an alcoholic? never. now pour me another one” you both laughed as he poured more alcohol into your cup, but only filling it less than half way to make sure you pace yourself. he still wanted to take you home in one piece; preferably sober.

“it’s probably gonna take me a solid hour to just finish this one cup while you drank yours before i could even blink. you sure about not being an alcoholic?” he joked while stepping closer to you.

“oh please, it’s just juice mixed with some kind of vodka. i’ll be fine.” you took another sip and shoved his shoulder playfully.

“hey! not all of us are heavy drinkers like you. i’m a lightweight and proud.” he gave you his best proud smile and took another long sip of his drink. by the way you guys were constantly taking drinks from your cups, you both were definitely leaving here at least a bit tipsy.

“let’s head back outside, it’s getting stuffy in here and i need some air.” you said as he nodded and followed behind you. your thoughts were still so clouded about the events that just happened a few minutes ago. holy shit, you guys basically eye fucked each other right there on the dance floor without even having a first kiss. it’s not like you were complaining, it was just a very intimate moment. the mark that was grinding up against your body back there was not the same mark that sat next to you everyday with sunscreen smeared on his cheek, having you wipe it off for him and making him blush. you basically turned into putty in his hands back there, and he didn’t seem to mind either.

so deep in thought, you didn’t see a now very drunk hyuck coming towards you, and before you could snap back into reality, his body had crashed into you. the drink in your hand now spilling all over the front of your shirt. you heard a bunch of “oohs” around the room while everyone turned to stare at the scene in front of them.

“y/n! holy sh-. are you okay? oh my gosh your shirt. fuck fuck, did i just ruin your night?” hyuck took in noticed what had just happened while he tried to rub some of the stains from your shirt, only making it worse.

“hey, don’t worry about it. it’s just a shirt.” you shrugged it off with a wave of your hand. mark was behind you while he examined the mess and winced. “you can probably get it out with some water, don’t worry” he nodded his head.

“y/n i’m so sorry. i told you i wouldn’t let this night go wrong.” hyuck reaches for you between slurred words and stumbled towards you but you managed to catch him before he fell to the floor.

“dude, i told you. don’t worry about it, it’s fine. you on the other hand are drunk as fuck.” you grabbed him by his waist before he could make more of a mess.

“we should probably get him upstairs to his bedroom” mark said while he took some of hyucks weight off of you, you nodded and you both made your way to the stairs where mark picked up donghyuck and carried him to his bedroom.

you three stumbled into his room while mark set him on his bed, you ran into the bathroom to get the garbage can and put it next to him on the floor.

“i should probably get the rest of the guys and start getting people out of here.” mark said while he walked towards the door, you agreed while you took off hyucks shoes and threw them somewhere in his room.

“alright, i’ll stay here and watch him for a while.” he nodded and closed the door behind him. you sat next to hyuck while half of his body hung off the bed as he slowly breathed in and out. few seconds pass by before he speaks up.

“i’m sorry.” hyuck mumbles into his pillow while his eyes slowly open, just to close 2 seconds later.

“it’s fine dude, you didn’t do anything wrong.” you patted his back in reassurance.

“nooo, i-i told yo-you, that i would make this night go smoo-smoothly” he began to fake cry with flushed cheeks only making you giggle.

“don’t stress it, it went way better than i expected i promise. i won’t go into details since you’ll probably forget by morning but-” you paused, “thank you for trying hyuckie” you continued to pat his back in comfort until soft snores began to leave his lips.

a few minutes after you made sure he was positioned comfortably, you walked into the bathroom to look at yourself. your hair was sticking out on all places while most of your makeup had either smudged or faded off your face. so much for trying to look nice. you looked down towards your shirt and noticed a big red/gold mixed stain decorating the front and you sighed.

“i loved this shirt” you whispered as you grabbed a towel, wetting it under the faucet and trying to dab off the stain.

“i know right, i loved it too” mark walked in behind you and smiled at you through the mirror. he walked until he stood next to you, leaning up against the counter while you continued to try and get the stain out.

“sorry this night wasn’t up to your expectations.” you shaked your head in disappointment. mark grabbed the towel from your hands as he stepped closer towards you, grabbing the hem of your shirt and pulled you towards him, making you stand between his parted legs. he held the shirt towards him while he rubbed on the stain more sufficiently than you probably were.

“are you kidding? i had one of the best nights of my life tonight. i partied with friends, had a couple of drinks, and hung out all night with the most beautiful girl. don’t even mention how we were killing it out on that dance floor.” you let out an ugly snort and glanced up at his face. your eyes met for a brief second and you were back to that little world you guys continued to escape to throughout the night.

“mark-“

“shh, just. just don’t say anything right now.” he came closer towards your body. he glanced down to your lips before his eyes shot up towards yours once again, asking for permission. you beat him to it when you leaned in and your lips recklessly crashed into his.

you know that moment in movies when two people kiss and fireworks suddenly start going off. well it was like that when you kissed mark, only with those fireworks going off inside your fluttering stomach and having your mind race 1000 mph.

you lips moved against each other in a drunken, reckless way, but it was still passionate. you don’t know who started it, but soon your felt your tongues fight for playful dominance. your arms snaked around his neck while you bring him down more towards you to get better access to his lips. his hands immediately went up to your hips, guiding you to lean up against the counter while his hands explored more of your body and slowly leading themselves down south. you teased him by biting his lip a few times, making him groan against your lips and give your hips a quick squeeze.

you both were so caught up in the moment you didn’t hear someone enter the room after a few minutes.

“yo- oh god. really?! while hyuck is passed out?!” renjun yelled at you guys once he noticed what shenanigans you two were up too. you and mark immediately let go of each other and turned around with wide eyes

“sorry, dude. uh what’s up?” mark nervously scratched the back of his neck while looking at his feet. you on the other hand were a bunch of shy smiles and trying your best to avoid eye contact with either one of the boys.

“everyone left and we managed to clean the downstairs. hyucks parents probably won’t be back until the weekend, and he seems like he probably won’t wake up until tomorrow-” renjun looked down at donghyucks sprawled out body on is bed before he continued, “-so me and jeno are staying over to keep an eye on him overnight, so you guys are good to go if you want.” he smirked at the both of you while he made his way towards the door, closing it behind him. you and mark stood there in silence for a few seconds before he turned around and faced you again

“lemme take you home.” mark smiled. you noticed how pink and swollen his lips were and that only made you break into a big smirk, soon realizing your lips probably looked no different from his.

“yeah sure.” you nodded and he began to walk out of the bathroom before you grabbed his hands, making him quickly turn around before you crashed your lips onto his for a few more seconds before parting with a loud smack.

“now let’s go.” you both walked out hand in hand and descended down the stairs, waving goodbye to jeno and renjun on your way out.

the ride back to your house was silent. but comfortable silence. you both were pretty tired considering it was almost 2 in the morning, thank god your parents were out of town for the weekend.

you and mark were holding hands the entire time on the way to your house while some slow r&b song played from the radio. from time to time mark would give your hand a squeeze to make sure you were still there, you would turn to him and smile before squeezing his hand back and rubbing small circles on the back of it which would make him slightly blush and hide a shy smile.

once you arrived at your house, he walked you all the way up to your porch and stopped right in front of the door. you turned towards him before he embraced you in a tight hug, burring his head in the crook of your neck and your hair.

“did you have fun?” he asked once he pulled away from your neck but still holding you in his arms.

“i had the best night. thank you mark.” you played with the ends of his hair behind his neck and he smiled down at you.

“it was my pleasure. plus, it’s only nice to return the favor. you gave me the best night so i had to do the same. well, besides a drink getting spilled on you.” he looked down between your bodies to see the dried up beverage on your shirt but you just laughed it off.

“that was probably the highlight of the night.” you guys giggled and continued to stare at each other.

“i should probably head home. it’s getting pretty late.” he finally unwrapped his arms from around you and took a couple of steps back, stuffing his hands inside of his jean pockets.

“yeah definitely, birds will start chirping soon. so, see you at work on monday?” you tilted your head to the side and gave him a goofy grin which he only returned with a goofier one.

“yeah, i wouldn’t miss it.” he began to walk back towards his car, before he stopped in his steps and ran back towards you to crash his lips into yours in a passionate kiss.

“i’m taking you out on a real date soon. y’know, one where our drunk friend doesn’t spill a drink on you and we make out in his bathroom while he’s passed out” he giggled before separating and walking backwards toward his car again. you only smiled and watched him.

“i would really love that.” you watch him round the corner of his car.

“hey mark?” you yelled once you saw him open the door to it. at this point you didn’t care how late it was and who was sleeping, you’ve never told him about your feelings all night and this seemed like the perfect time to do it.

“yeah?”

“i really, really like you.” you stared at him until you saw him break into that beautiful smile you loved so much.

“hey y/n?” he yelled back at you.

“yeah?” you smirked.

“i really, really, REALLY like you too.” you heard him say before he laughed and got into his car, waving at you before driving away.

you only smiled before opening your door and heading inside to get into bed. making a quick mental note to thank hyuck for making it one of the best nights ever.

a/n: i’m not good at endings and it shows. btw i wrote the whole dancing scene after watching that one episode of vampire diaries where damon and elena were dancing in that halloween party hehe. just thought i should share.

[phoebehalliwell]

how would you rank the seasons from least to most favourite?

alright okay right off the bat worst season season 7. for starters i think this season has no staying power i mean like since i’ve been running this blog 4 so long now my knowledge of charmed is encyclopedic and insanely vast more than like it ever need be but for the longest time. i could not remember season 7. like wtf even happened there?? evidently leo became human??? cole returned? the avatars??? like all of it was just. it’s not even necessarily forgettable it’s just i straight up could not remember it for the longest time. and i’ve said it before the concept of utopia was way to advanced for a show like charmed to tackle i am not watching charmed for moral philosophy i am watching bc i love these girls ♥ hee hee hoo hoo magic adventure ✨ tho if i am to offer a single comment on utopia: it’s awfully rich for a show to go on about destiny and fate and then take a stand against utopia in the name of free will. but w/e. i don’t like leo in the avatars i don’t like his dynamic with piper in this season i don’t like whatever phoebe’s doing this season there’s like leslie?? maybe there’s someone else? boring & flavorless they should have been setting up her endgame instead of puttering around. and kyle. zoo wee mama. could have been a great antihero. morally gray. duplicitous. self serving. but no. they gave him all those traits and called him hero/love interest. s7 left a lot to be desired out of the characters and their relationships also gave us phat L’s such as the charmed ones are werewolves don’t worry about it and feminism peaked with naked women. shout out to zankou: demon, dilf, dub & the noir episode.

you know what? fuck it i’ll say it second worse season 5 genuinely fuck season five. this is probably a Very Specific beef 2 me But. i hate what they did to the charmed universe. this was the season that marked the transition of charmed from supernatural drama to campy soap which like. i love camp! i do! but fr. fuck this season and what it did to the worldbuilding. the early season have Such A Vibe to them man with warlocks and witches and just a couple niche monsters from assorted lore that the show took and made their own. season five opens with mermaids goes directly into fairytales then gives us superheros whatever the fuck was going on in that mummy episode the sandman leprechauns and nymphs. and i hate it for that. it takes away from this urban fantasy things that go bump in the night what lurks in the shadows of the back alleys of san francisco in favor of the ugliest cinderella dress ever put to television and an onslaught of horrible irish accents for a full episode. other issues with season five: cole’s still here? why? they don’t know and neither will you! we’re not redeeming him! phoebe’s not getting back together with him! yes he died we just refuse to let him go! the cherry on top of course being a cole-centric 100th episode. shout out to. hmm. lemme think about what i actually liked about this season. i like jason dean as a love interest i don’t remember what he did in s5 but i know he was there. the season finale i’ve talked about how stupid & shitty it was but idc i still love that episode and then shout out to bacarra the only original villain this season that was a proper serve. the crone gets second place.

next on this come on we all saw it coming season 8. it’s a bad season! and i get bts there was a whole lot happening budget cuts missing actor etc. but it goes beyond that. it was a bad season. billie and christie were bad. and i’ve said this before but billie in herself is not an inherently bad character. she was just the literal worst for the show. she was a dollar store buffy blonde confident cocky skilled and ready 2 fight evil But. we are not following her like we followed buffy we are following her mentors. it’s like if we had a show called giles that aired for seven seasons And Then buffy showed up. billie was insanely irritating to watch from our perspective and in general wasn’t like. well written. attempts to humanize her / give her more depth often fell flat. and then christy. oh nelly. oh my god. barely a character. not well acted but hey it would have been a miracle if she was. negatives include dumain who was a mess omg bringing back the triad bringing back the source billie & christy obvi and also involving homeland security. which is season 7′s fault which is why it’s the worst. dubs on the other hand include both coop and henry i really liked them the shoehorned love interests weren’t great but i like their characters i though the way the got rid of leo to save on the budget was really creative and gave us a great piper episode and of course the sugary sweet finale i love it i do what can i say.

yet another controversial choice aptly coming in fourth is season 4. i respect what season 4 set out to do. i think it was a good idea. long form narratives, keeping a darker tone, focusing on character-driven drama and growth. too bad it fucking failed miserably at all of this. cole as the source and phoebe as the queen of hell was just so so botched. they had a very unique opportunity following the death of prue to explore these characters and what it means to them to be charmed, to be witches. they saved the world but the cost is insanely high. they’ve lost an older sister. they’ve gained a new sister. how do you even begin to cope with all this? episodes such as hell hath no fury and brain drain fuck so hard because they work with exactly that. had the whole season been like those episode season four would sit at number one with flying colors absolutely no competition. but alas. we can’t have nice things. the show got so bogged down with phoebe & cole, in a way that was just so, so messy. for starters, whether you loved cole or hated him before, we can all agree source!cole sucked. he was such a strong 180 from what we had seen that the show had to make the source some type of possession to justify half the shit they were trying to pull. and then to pit phoebe and paige against one another over a man was just. disgusting. and the ending of course felt rushed because it was! they wrapped up that entire issue in a nice little bow much faster than they reasonably should have been able to. it could have been a great season. it was definitely not. shout out to the seer an iconic mastermind on barbas levels, as previously stated brain drain and hell hath no fury Specific shout out to piper’s scene at prue’s grave shout out to paige as a character i like what they did with her and um. yeah that’s it.

okay we’re exiting the shit tier in favorite of the good tier welcome to the upper half. kicking us off is season 6. season 6 did what season 4 could not in that it gave us a long form plot that still left plenty of room for like. normal demon of the week episodes. i love phoebe early in this season with her faboo haircut her brand new empathy power and her relationship with jason dean. obvious strikes against for whatever the fuck that baby crazy stint was and also the mata hari episode. yikes. i love paige’s hair color in this season nothing paige as a character necessarily stands out to me however i like how they seem to have hit the blend of work-magic with paige where she wants a life and career outside of magic however she still loves the craft and embraces is with an open heart and mind. season six also gives us chris who was a very fun male lead imo we really didn’t have many like him he’s bitchy. he whines and bitches a lot he’s got an agenda he’s a bit secretive but at the end of the day he just wants a family i like him. i like the character growth we see out of piper i like seeing her try to move on from leo i love seeing her get back together with leo i like her dynamic with chris and her fears about motherhood. i also liked richard but that one takes a lot of justification. L’s are witchstock hyde school reunion used karma off the top of my head also the paige/richard/addiction plotline was so tone deaf. also the girls were mean to darryl : ( he deserved so much better. dubs were chris as a character, tbh the episode little monsters, phoebe with empathy specifically saying i love you too to jason i could write a dissertation on that line alone also the courtship of wyatt’s father and i thought the reveals of evil wyatt and chris being piper and leo’s son were both fun and interesting plot twists.

coming in third is actually season 2 a season i really do love it’s just. it lacks structure. imo there is a lot to love about season 2 morality bites and pardon my past are both delightful time travel episodes we get jack sheridan and bane jessup two of my personal favorite prue love interests we get p3 h2o and a great prue plotline regarding the death of patty we get the super cute cupid episode it’s a great. collection of episodes. it’s not a great season. there’s just imo not a strong enough thread connecting the stories together it’s mainly held together by having the same characters in it over and over again i really liked dan personally but like. i knew we were wasting time there. he was just an obstacle. a super cute loving and caring obstacle who’s great with kids but lbr piper and leo were always endgame. wasting our time on dan was stupid. i do love the sister dynamics in season two “gotta hand it to those pesky little demons they sure have brought us closer together” but again. this season could have benefitted from a rex and hannah type or even like a cole or zankou. this season is less of a season and more of just like a handful of episodes, and while there are some fat dubs, there are also some definite swings & misses. shout out to the time travel episodes the prue centric episodes phoebe’s character growth and maturity throughout this season (e.g. her going back to college) and i also think the fashion got a lot more fun this season.

second place i’m saying season one season one was a really strong start and gave us these really compelling characters with interesting relationships between one another But. a lot of it just kinda falls flat. and credit where credit is due it was a brand new show getting its feet under it but the fourth sister feats of clay which prue is it anyway they just simply aren’t dubs imo. also i don’t like that 70′s episode bc again i am an asshole concerned about The Lore i can’t believe one bitch ass warlock caused the Charmed Ones to grow up without powers. it just really bugs me. all in all the plots as a whole like aren’t great imo they’re nothing to write home about (save for from fear to eternity) it’s really the characters that make this season so goddamn good.

first place congratulations to the one the only season three. this is just because it kinda hits all my requirements in that it has some banger one offs (e.g. all halliwell’s eve, the good, the bad, and the cursed) it has an overarching plot at the exact same time as the source becomes more prominent and obvi cole is also there with murderous intent i like the character growth we see especially from prue i like piper and leo finally get married overall i really like the aesthetic of this season that blends a darker urban fantasy tone with still some charmed fashion and whimsy. strikes against tbh phoebe and cole’s relationship i am insanely picky with my enemies to lovers and the do not come remotely close to cutting the mustard in fact they are almost immediately disqualified however from afar i can see and respect The Drama. shout out to recasting victor prue with pistols death as a character and shannen directing episodes

[iam93percentstardust]

I'm bombarding you with those prompts, so I fully understand if you just ignore all those you don't like, lol. Would WinterIronFalcon be an OT3 you're intrested in writing? Some established WinterFalcon with Tony pining helplessly after them, not believeing he could have a chance? With a dash of angst in it? Thank you ♡

There isn’t much angst in this but there is hopeless pining so yay?

Also on ao3 here

~

“Share Bear, it’s not fair,” Tony whines into the phone.

“What isn’t?” his cousin asks, sounding patient but also kind of amused. He takes the phone away from his ear and squints at it. Is she making fun of him? She probably is, Sharon always makes fun of him. She’s mean like that; he’s pretty sure she gets it from Natasha.

“They’re so fucking gorgeous, I can’t stand it.”

“Oh. Them again. Seriously Tony, didn’t you used to have better taste?”

“Excuse you,” he says, offended. “My taste is perfect.”

“They think arguing is foreplay.”

“It’s bickering! And it’s cute!”

“Gross,” Sharon says cheerfully.

“God hates me,” Tony says dramatically, flinging his hand over his eyes. “That’s why he cursed me to work with two such beautiful humans who are already dating each other.”

“Tony—”

“I know Bucky stays up to date with the fandom,” he continues, going a little quieter. “He’s gotta know that tons of people ship the three of us. But he doesn’t say anything about it. Share Bear, why doesn’t he say anything?”

“Probably because for every person who ships all three of you, there’s twice as many who ship just you and him,” she admits. “I know that if someone were shipping Maria and Nat and ignoring that I even exist, I’d be pretty upset.”

“Yeah,” he says glumly.

“What’re you filming today anyway?” she asks.

“True Crime. We were supposed to be doing an episode of Supernatural at the Odinson Mystery House, you know, over in Norway where the son found out he was adopted and then got super into Norse mythology and supposedly disappeared into a rainbow?”

“Oh yeah, that guy was crazy.”

“Wasn’t,” Tony insist stubbornly. “There are three different eyewitnesses and they all saw the same thing.”

“All three eyewitnesses tested positive for meth.”

“It was trace amounts and ruled irrelevant to the case. Anyway, there’s some sort of blizzard so our flight got canceled. We figured we’d get a jump on this season’s True Crime episodes instead.”

“What are you doing this week?”

He scowls into the phone. “Fandom episode. They voted for Captain America.”

He can practically hear Sharon wince. “I’m sorry. That fucking sucks.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, not least because both of them know exactly what happened to Captain America. He was recovered from the Arctic back in the 50s and went on to live a very happy and fulfilling life with Aunt Peggy. But that’s a very closely guarded state secret; the U.S. government can’t let it get out that Steve Rogers survived nearly a decade in the ice. Technically, Tony and Sharon aren’t even supposed to know but Aunt Peggy had insisted she be allowed to tell them after she took custody of Sharon and Tony moved out of Howard’s and into her home. It’s kind of cool actually, knowing that Uncle Steve is really Captain America. He’s a pretty great guy. It just kind of sucks that he can’t tell anyone about it and now he has to do a whole episode about it when everyone knows he’s a shitty liar.

He’d talked it over with Uncle Steve and Aunt Peggy when the results of the vote had first come in. Aunt Peggy’s advice had been to act more manic than usual, throw even more outlandish theories into the mix, and really make this episode about the banter between him and Bucky. “Direct their attention away from Steve,” she’d said. “They’re already going to be looking at you. Just make sure they’re doing it for the wrong reason.”

He kind of wants to kiss Bucky. That would definitely draw attention away from the episode. But that’s not fair to either Bucky or Sam, who are very happy with their relationship and don’t need a homewrecker like Tony throwing a spanner into the mix.

“Good luck,” Sharon tells him before they hang up. “You’re gonna need it.”

“Wow, thanks,” he mutters but she’s already gone.

~

Marvels Unsolved was never supposed to be this popular. It started off as a novelty webseries about Tony trying to convince Bucky about the existence of the supernatural—he firmly believed that if science could turn Uncle Steve from an actual shrimp to the god of muscles, then magic had to be out there—and then they’d started talking about an unsolved crime from the early 20th century after filming an episode one day, forgetting that the camera was still rolling, and had ended up with enough footage to make a second episode about real crimes. They had stayed pretty unknown throughout that first season but then true crime podcasts had exploded in popularity and Unsolved along with them.

Now they have a fandom and merchandise and actual fanfiction written about them, which is the craziest thing. They both have several often-quoted gifs floating around the Internet and Bucky has somehow become the poster child for being unimpressed by literally everything (he actually makes some of the best faces when something genuinely scary happens but they always end up editing those parts out—he has an image to maintain after all).

They brought Sam on once they started gaining in popularity. Tony, by that point, already had a pretty well-established crush on Bucky. He’d even thought that he had a chance with his co-host, small as it may be, and at first, it hadn’t seemed like Sam was going to change anything. He and Bucky argued all the time so Tony had been absolutely stunned when he’d stumbled upon them making out like it was the end of the world.

They had just finished filming their second season. Sam had suggested going out to a local bar. He’d suggested it for all three of them but Tony had, inexplicably, felt like a third wheel all night as Sam and Bucky bickered. At one point, Sam had disappeared off to the restroom and a couple minutes later, Bucky had followed him. Tony doesn’t know how long he had sat there waiting for them but he’d eventually gone looking for them only to find Sam pressing Bucky up against a wall.

And that had been that.

Three years later, Sam and Bucky are still going strong, Tony is as smitten with Sam as he is with Bucky despite knowing how hopeless both crushes are, and the fandom seems convinced to either write Sam out of Tony and Bucky’s relationship or write Tony into Sam and Bucky’s. He wishes they would stop. He stays pretty up to date with the fandom as well and they have all these meta posts about the way Bucky looks at him or something. It just keeps giving him hope but, well, it’s been three years. If Bucky wanted him, or if Sam did for that matter, they would have done something long ago.

~

“Hey, you doing okay?” Sam asks him as they’re setting up.

“Sure, why wouldn’t I be?” He avoids meeting Sam’s eyes, focusing instead on adding creamer to the coffee. Marvels had presented them with these mugs last year to congratulate them on four years of Unsolved. They’ve got their most iconic quotes printed on them, Bucky’s with “Obviously I killed JFK” and Tony’s with “I’m the dramatic bitch your mom warned you about.” Sam has one too with his one and only line in the entire show printed on it (“Why did I agree to work with you?”) but since he’s always behind the camera, he doesn’t have to use the same mug for each episode.

“You just seem a little off.” The worst part is that Sam genuinely looks concerned. If they didn’t care about him, he thinks his crush might be easier to manage but they do because they’re just nice guys like that. “I know you weren’t too thrilled when we announced this week’s case.”

“Howard worked with him, practically hero-worshipped the damn guy. Of course, I’m not excited.”

Sam winces. They know all about Tony’s shitty relationship with Howard after his dad called Marvels furious that his son was hosting a webseries instead of coming home to grovel at his feet and take over the business. The whole team had been brought in to listen as Fury tried to placate him. By the end, Bucky had been furious on Tony’s behalf and Sam had berated Fury for twenty minutes for making Tony listen to the vitriol his dad had spewed. It had cemented his crush on Sam, then just a passing fancy, into something real and permanent.

“Seriously, Sam, I’m fine. Might be a little off today but I would have said if I didn’t think I could do it.”

Sam doesn’t look convinced but he agrees anyway. Tony sits down next to Bucky and passes him his mug. Bucky shoots him a grin and murmurs, “Thanks, doll.”

Tony doesn’t blush but that’s only because he has five years of practice. Out of the corner of his eye, he spots Sam counting them down and he turns to face the camera, settling his hands in front of him.

“This week on Marvels Unsolved True Crime and in celebration of our 100th episode,” he begins, “we asked you what you’d like us to investigate and you came back—”

“—overwhelmingly,” Bucky interjects.

“Many, many times,” Tony agrees, “with a topic near and dear to my own heart: Captain America.”

“That’s right,” Bucky says, sounding surprised though Bucky had been the first to point out that maybe they shouldn’t do this episode because of Tony’s connections to Project Rebirth. “Your dad helped turn Steve Rogers into Captain America, didn’t he?”

“And he never let me forget it!” Tony says cheerfully.

“One hundred episodes,” Bucky says slowly, enunciating each word. “Can you believe that, doll?”

Sometimes, he wonders why the fans ship them when Sam is right there. Other times, Bucky says things like this and he understands completely.

“Not even a little bit, Bucky Babe.” Okay, so maybe he doesn’t help.

“One hundred. The big one zero zero.”

“We tried to do something extra special and get Sam in front of the camera for you guys—”

“—so you could see what a hunk he is—”

“—but Sam said that he didn’t trust anyone else to film us properly—”

“—which makes sense because Tony? If you put him in the wrong light, he’s practically a gremlin—”

“Hey!”

“I’m just telling the facts.”

“Well, the facts are wrong.”

“They’re facts, sweet thing, they can’t be wrong.”

“Can too. Anyway, since Sam refuses to join us—”

“—and that just breaks my heart because Sam, he’s one of my favorite guys, you know?”

Tony pauses. It’s not like Bucky to say anything nice about Sam. Usually, it’s all good-natured insults and bickering. He must really be fed up with the Starkbucks shippers to say something like this when they’re still this early in the show.

“Only one of?” he asks curiously.

Bucky shoots him one of those filthy grins that their audience loves so much. “Well, it’s hard not to include you on that list,” he drawls.

He’s not going to blush.

He’s not going to blush.

He’s not going to—

Damn it.

Whatever. It’s no big deal, that’s what editing is for. So what if Sam has never edited out one of Tony’s blushes yet? Maybe Tony will get lucky and he will this time.

“You know, I was actually named for Captain America’s sidekick?” Bucky asks, getting them back on track.

“Wow, that is deeply unfortunate,” Tony deadpans.

“Yeah, Dad’s a fanboy. His whole troop was pinned down and rescued by the two of them. He tells the story all the time—kind of like your dad.”

“Except my dad goes straight past into fanboy and directly into obsession territory.”

“…Fair enough.”

“Really? That’s all you’re going to say?”

Bucky shrugs and takes a sip out of his mug. “I’ve been inside your house. I’ve seen the Steve Rogers shrine. I’m not going to argue with you.”

Tony thinks about that for a moment. “It is kind of a shrine, isn’t it? Anyway, we’ve got some great stuff for you today. We’re going to crack open this cold case, show you some never-before-seen footage courtesy of my mom sneaking my dad’s old war tapes out of the mansion, and then we’ll talk a little bit about the theories out there.”

“How many of them are going to be ridiculously outlandish and physically impossible?”

Tony glares at him. “None of them. I have never once presented a ridiculously outlandish and physically impossible theory.”

“Right because alien abduction is a valid—”

“Aliens are real!”

“You said that crabs might have eaten Amelia Earheart!” Bucky shouts over him.

“It’s a valid theory!”

“I take it back, you’re not one of my favorite people anymore.”

“That really hurts me, deep inside,” Tony says sarcastically, trying to cover up that maybe that does send a small pang shooting through his chest. He likes the thought of being one of Bucky’s favorite people. He doesn’t want to lose that.

“How deep?” Bucky asks and winks.

“Very deep. Way, way deep down. Practically in my—”

Bucky’s eyes widen and he nearly chokes on his coffee. “Okay, that’s enough of that. Let’s get into the facts.”

“Hey, that’s my line!”

~

“With a missing plane and pilot and so much redaction in the files, we’re lucky to even have a name, let’s get into the theories.”

“Actually, wait, before we do that,” Bucky says, “I want to ask if you’ve ever noticed that your voice changes when you’re doing the voiceovers.”

“Wait, what?” Tony asks. He glances at him, to one of the cameras, then back to Bucky. “What do you mean?”

“You know, it gets all deeper like you’re trying to voice movie trailers or something.”

“No it doesn’t.”

“Sure it does.”

Tony shakes his head. “There’s no way.”

They both turn toward Sam, who thinks about it and then makes a ‘sort of’ motion with his hand.

“Told you!” Bucky says triumphantly.

“You’re such a child,” Tony sneers.

“Yeah, that’s why you like working with me so much.”

Behind the camera, Sam silently snickers and Tony glares at him before telling the camera, “If you’re watching, let us know in the comments. Is my apparent movie trailer voice okay or does it need to go like Bucky clearly thinks?”

Bucky goes paler. “Hey, wait, I didn’t say it had to go.”

“It was implied when you brought it up,” he argues.

“No!” Bucky insists. “I was just wondering if it was on purpose.”

They both turn toward Sam, who thinks about it and then makes a ‘sort of’ motion with his hand.

“Aha!” Tony says triumphantly.

“Traitor,” Bucky mutters into his coffee.

Sam signs, “I’ll make it up to you when we get home tonight.”

“And that was more than I ever wanted to learn about Sam and Bucky’s love life,” Tony lies through his teeth. “Let’s get into the theories. I only have two for you today, one of which I think Bucky will particularly like.”

“Oh no.”

“Our first theory is that Steve Rogers died in a plane crash on December 16, 1944. Winter months in the Arctic are known to be particularly stormy. There would have been low visibility due to the high latitude and time of year and with the waters and surrounding land being well below freezing, it’s possible that, even if Captain Rogers survived the impact, he would have frozen to death in the stormy seas.”

Bucky thinks about it for a second. “Yeah, that seems plausible.”

“In addition, Howard Stark, a known Captain America aficionado and the father of Marvels Unsolved’s best host—”

“You lie like a rug!” Bucky howls.

Tony snickers and then when Sam signs, “He’s really not,” bursts out into full-out laughter.

Once he’s recovered, he continues, “Howard Stark has spent the first fifty years after the crash of the Valkyrie and the last twenty funding searches in the Arctic in the hopes of recovering Captain Rogers’ body. He has found no evidence that Captain Rogers survived the crash although he did find part of the remains of the Valkyrie and has since stated that, ‘No human could have survived that crash.’”

The expeditions are a scam and have been since Howard first found the Valkyrie crash site and Uncle Steve along with it. He hadn’t been planning on continuing the expeditions—too costly, as he claims—but when Aunt Peggy had told him that Uncle Steve’s survival had to remain a secret, he’d kept them up for pretense’s sake.

Bucky is saying something about how it sucks that the first superhero is gone and when he finishes, Tony grins and says, “Then you’ll like our second theory.”

“Somehow, every time you say that, I end up completely hating it. Wonder why that is.”

“Our second theory is that Steve Rogers survived the crash and is still alive but cryogenically frozen in the ice. There—”

“Bullshit!”

Tony starts laughing but he tries to continue on over Bucky shouting that it’s complete nonsense. It’s hard and he knows that Sam will probably have to do some editing and maybe make Tony do some voiceover work in order to make the theory audible but he thinks he manages to do a pretty good job.

Bucky is pouting by the end of it, arms crossed over his chest. “What fucking bullshit,” he mutters.

“The supersoldier serum—” Tony starts to point out.

“Isn’t a miracle drug.”

“That’s exactly what it is.”

“No, it just made him big and strong. It doesn’t just magically keep people alive when they should have died.”

And then they’re off into familiar territory, arguing about the merits of either theory. Tony’s actually feeling pretty good about himself, convinced that he’s doing a decent job of steering the conversation away of anything classified, right up until Bucky says, about halfway through the episode, “I’m surprised at you, Tony.”

He wrinkles his nose. “Surprised?”

“Usually, you have some absolutely batshit, off-the-walls crazy theory but these have actually been pretty normal for you.” He pauses and then adds for effect, “And you’re usually much better at your research than this.”

“Excuse me?”

“Oh come on, even I know that there’s one more theory.”

He starts tapping at his chest nervously, almost wishing that he had a pair of sunglasses. Aunt Peggy always said that his lies are in his eyes, that they’re too expressive to hide the truth. When he was living with Howard, in the spotlight, he always had a pair of sunglasses to hide his eyes but he hasn’t wanted to use those since he moved out. He wishes he had them now.

“And what’s that?” he asks, feigning a casualness he doesn’t feel.

“That Steve Rogers lived and came out of the ice at some point and has been living out his life in anonymity.”

He barks out a nervous laugh. “I didn’t mention it because even I know that that theory is completely impossible.”

“Hasn’t stopped you before.” Sam nods agreeably. Bucky nods back at him and adds, “Even Sam agrees with me.”

“He’s your boyfriend, he’s practically required to.”

Both Sam and Bucky laugh at that one and yeah, okay, it was a pretty ridiculous statement. Anyone who knows them knows that being boyfriends is less likely to make them agree with each other.

“Look, Steve Rogers didn’t come out of the ice alive. Howard would have known for one thing and if you think, he could keep something like that quiet, then you don’t know him very well.”

“Maybe the government insisted it be a secret,” Bucky suggests, shrugging. “There have been plenty of people who have claimed over the last couple decades to be Captain America.”

Tony scoffs. “Oh come on, by that logic, anyone could be Captain America.”

“Maybe they could be.”

“No,” Tony says flatly. “It’s like that crazy conspiracy theory guy over on Reddit who’s convinced that Bruce Wayne is Batman.”

“Maybe Bruce Wayne is Batman.”

“Ooh do the butts match?” Tony says mockingly. “I mean, really, Bucky Babe, if we’re going off of lookalikes, then my fucking Uncle Steve is secretly really Steve Rogers, which is ridiculous because the guy’s like practically ancient and faints at the sight of blood in PG-13 movies.”

That sets off another round of arguing that lasts the rest of the episode until finally Tony wraps it up with, “Whether Steve Rogers died in 1944 or is still alive today is a mystery that will remain unsolved.”

They both pause for a moment to provide time for Sam to edit in the theme music and closing title. Usually, there would be some lighthearted bantering afterwards, maybe a joke about something they said earlier in the show. This time though, Bucky says thoughtfully, “The thing is, though, I’ve met your Uncle Steve—”

Tony goes cold.

“—and he really does kind of look like—”

Tony panics. That’s the only explanation that he has for declaring, “I’m done waiting,” reaching across the tables and grabbing hold of Bucky’s shirt, and yanking him forward to kiss him.

For a moment, Bucky is too startled to do anything but then he melts into Tony, mouth opening under his, tongue pushing forward to meet his. Bucky’s arms come around him, pulling him up and out of his chair and settling him into his lap. Tony makes a small greedy sound, swallowed by Bucky’s kiss, and then they’re both pulling away. Bucky’s lips are very red; Tony can’t stop staring at them even as he’s filled with dismay.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I shouldn’t have—”

“Why not?” Bucky demands.

“You—Sam—” He glances toward the camera but Sam isn’t standing there anymore. His heart drops into his stomach—has he just ruined Bucky and Sam’s relationship? But then he hears someone drop to their knees behind him and when he turns slightly, Sam’s fingers are on his chin, gently turning his head.

“How long?” Sam asks.

“How long what?”

“How long have we been wasting our time when we could have been kissing you instead?”

Three years, two months, and fifteen days. “Too long.”

Sam kisses him then, mouth gentler than Bucky’s but no less consuming. Bucky is a hard, hot line against his front; Sam is warm against his back and Tony? Tony loses himself in the storm that is the two of them, sparks shooting through him as Bucky’s hands find their way to his hips, as Sam’s tongue slips into his mouth, as Bucky whispers into his ear, “We’re not wasting any more time.”

~

Marvels Unsolved’s 100th episode shoots to their most watched, most liked video in less than a day and when asked, maybe the smallest handful of viewers could have said what it was about.

The day after it posts, only a week after it was filmed, Tony’s phone rings.

“Kill it with fire,” Sam says sleepily.

Tony, however, recognizes Aunt Peggy’s ringtone and he rolls over to grab it before Bucky can throw it at the wall. “Hello?” he asks groggily.

“Congratulations on not blowing Steve’s cover,” she says.

“Oh yeah,” Tony mutters. “Can I go back to bed now?”

“One more thing, duck.”

“What’s that?”

“Congratulations on the new boyfriends.”

[og-danny-dorito]

Jason Vorhees Headcanons

🎉💫🎄 Happy Holidays y'all ;) 🎄💫🎉

(take these as a present)

N S F W / S F W :

- I’m just gonna say it- big man likes cuddles, although he’s kind of afraid of breaking you???

- like yeah, he loves hugging you and feeling how warm you are considering he’s basically a walking ice cube all the time, but he gets a little scared when you squeak or exhale sharply when he hugs you cause he doesn’t want to accidentally crush your ribs

- hes a great hugger though, although he’s pretty cold and strong as fuck

- hes generally not a very soft dude physically but is pretty much a great mattress since he’s a big dude and always pets your head when you lay on him

- you remind him of a C A T and he loves C A T S

- well, he loves cats but he likes little dogs more. if you’re more energetic you’re more along the lines of a very cute chihuahua but if you’re more quiet then he’s going to associate you with a cat and WILL pet you either way. you will be petted. no buts

- like the idea of a domestic, slightly nuclear family although he knows it's not fully possible. he likes having someone at home for him to kiss his cheek and likes to help out with trivial things such as baking or cleaning, although he does most of the chores when you get home since he'd much rather have you spend all of the time doing chores or work with him

- O H also likes animals a lot. he’s not entirely sure why, but he’s always found them very nice and pleasant to be around. he’d love to have a pet around the house if it’s okay with you, although he’s a little worried about the cold for them

- usually has a lot of blankets laying around for the cold though, as well as a lot of chopped firewood ever since you showed up. since he’s dead he doesn’t need much and only makes fires when he wants, but when a living being came into the household who NEEDED warmth he got to choppin

- so you know there’s always firewood outside or inside, and when it’s cold he’s always making sure you’re warm by placing his hand on your arms or any exposed skin and grunting if your skin is cold

- “Jason, really! It’s not that cold outside, I’m only a little chilly-”

- “Hmph.”

- he’d like it if you cuddle up with him in the middle of the night, please. yes, cling onto him like a koala he lOVES THAT SHIT. he’s always liked positive physical contact, and since he mostly got negative he’s naturally conditioned to be touch-starved. in fact, he loves even hearing your voice. pretty much anything directed positively at him makes him all warm and fuzzy inside and he can't help but feel really good when you coddle him

- make him,,,home cooked food. even though he doesn’t really need to eat it, he will. the whole goddamned plate and then some. seriously, he can’t  get enough of it, and his favorite is probably his mom’s meatloaf and green beans. cause you already know that shit is shmack

- isn’t really experienced in like romantic relationships so he’s kind of clueless most of the time. he is sort of the romantic though, bringing you things from intruders’ cabins or from their own cold, dead hands as gifts. if he thinks you’ll like the bracelet on that dude’s arm, then he’s gonna get that bracelet if it means he has to rip the dude’s arm off (which he doesn’t mind doing regardless tbh)

- will just,,, die if you give him anything. anything at all. you could give him a rock you thought was cool and he may just cry a little bit

- but seriously, anything you give to him makes his heart melt, especially if it was handmade. it really feels like it was made just for him, and he really loves that you’d put in your effort and time out of the day to think about him and make something for him

- very pure, very sweet

- just needs a hug

- LOVES IT if you dote on him. like yes kiss his booboo after putting a bandaid on it and say he did a good job today he needs it

- hes kind of innocent though, so it may be hard to initiate things with him that are more uhhhh- ~s p i c y~ if you catch my drift. it’s actually pretty unlikely he’ll even think of sex considering he doesn’t have it on his mind except when he’s hunting horny teens

- might be a little curious though, considering he’s only watched it happen with campers for the most part. his mom always told him it was sinful and wrong to do that before marriage and to be very safe and respectful of each other

- so of course, he’s going to continually ask for consent regardless of whether it’s your first or 100th time. his anxiety is pretty high the first time and he’s initially hesitant to even agree to it in the first place, so he lets you take the lead as he tries to figure out what the fuck he’s supposed to be doing

- he gets all flushed when he sees you undressed and placing his hands on you to help him get a hold it, and probably doesn’t take off his mask or most of is clothes just because like??? he’s a little self conscious okay

- but once you do get under all those clothes, he’s pretty toned and lowkey probably has the biggest dick out of every slasher. like he just. big man = big dick and my guiding philosophy has never done me wrong EVER. most likely 10 inches in length and 8 inches all around in girth. very green due to his “condition”, but is relatively veiny as well and is definitely circumcised. his head is a light dusted pink when hard, which happens almost any time you initiate further intimacy than just cute touches. and when he get started hard he's rock-solid. excellent manscaping considering he can't grow hair in the first place so you know that he isn't the MOST sensitive and probably shakes and whines a little if you suck on the tip and roll your tongue around it

- he eventually gets the hang of where to touch and where to grasp and where to run his hands along, but that’s doesn’t stop him from being a little adventurous with EXTENSIVE permission. are you okey with him doing that? are you sure? tell him to stop when you want him to, okay? promise to say stop?

- once he knows what he’s doing he starts to realize a few things like how sensitive you are to the rough parts of his hands and how much he likes seeing you in his clothes-

- on a level of how many kinks he has, he is the most vanilla out of anyone you'll ever meet because 1: he's too embarrassed to ask for anything, 2: he lowkey is pretty sure you'd be disgusted with him if he wanted to try a bunch of new stuff, and 3: he doesn't want to make you feel uncomfortable so he avoids doing so by not asking

- he's a bottom, that's it. that's all. He's just a bottom. the reasoning for this is that he wants to feel more like he doesn't need to control everything and really just wants to feel safe and loved. if you're taking the reigns then he feels like he doesn't need to worry, and he's sure you'd make a better leader than he ever could. he's not into things that are all too violent since he doesn't like getting hurt and in turn doesn't want to hurt you, but somehow likes being bossed around and told what to do although he works best when talked to kindly and gently. he also likes being praised a lot, although he'll never open up about his kinks. unless...?

- it'll take him forever to actually open up about it, and when he does??? he's very nervous about it and probably ends up chickening out. but eventually he'll grow a pair and ask you, and the first thing he asks to try out is wearing his shirt and/or jacket while you're riding him cowgirl style

- there's a number of reasons why he likes this; it makes you look smaller than him/you look really cute/it smells like you afterwards, but the most prominently reason is that it establishes a sort of ownership over you that makes him feel better about everything. he in turn would love to wear your clothes and really likes to do so, but the only thing he really can wear are big sweaters and shirts that you don't wear 24/7 like he does his own clothes

- he overall loves the feeling of security it brings him, regardless of some drawbacks like size. In fact, everything about you brings security to him, and he can't help but wish he was better so that he could bring you everything you've ever wanted

- he's very sensitive to touch, like I previously mentioned, but the most sensitive places are his thighs and lower belly considering those to relatively unscathed in the day-to-day work of killing teens and doing chores. so if you just happen to snake your fingers over to his inner thigh while you're sitting down and reading to him or watching something, he'll have a very hard time controlling himself and ends up asking  you to touch him more. he's very humble and shameful about it tho, and when he does ask it makes him seem like a kicked puppy

- and for some miscellaneous headcanons, Jason enjoys the cowgirl position the most and most of the time, if he's feeling especially pent up, then he may do doggy and/or missionary. this is very rare though considering his libido isn't so high and he generally avoids being to sexually frustrated cause he's almost certain his mother wouldn't approve. he doesn't jack off that often either for that same reason, and tends to grunt and shake when involved in the act. but he loves to be told he's doing great, and just being around you in the privacy of your sanctuary makes him feel like he doesnt need to worry about anything else

- you're his safe place to go when he comes home, and regardless of what may happen, there's no way he saw leaving your side. not for anything, not for the world

[caliculusbright]

Scars [ Zen x reader ] 1/? Soulmate AU

Au where scars appear the same place as your soulmates. This time? A huge one going down your back.

“Come on MC.” Your best friend whines, she’s been trying to convince you to go to the beach for the 100th time that day and frankly, you were about to give in just so she could shut up.

“Okay, okay fine.” You sighed, getting off from your couch and walking into your room to dig for your swimsuit, one you haven’t worn since you got the scar. Not that it was embarrassing or anything, what are you supposed to say when someone asked about the scar? It wasn’t even your scar.

As you went into the bathroom to change out of your clothes and into the two piece, your eyes catch your back in the huge mirror. A sigh escaped your lips, your fingers glide over the scar. You got the scar a couple years ago and it didn’t bother you that much until people started to ask and point it out. Your mind relives every time you stepped out the house, the endless whispers that followed your every step. Your thoughts were interrupted by your best friend knocking on the door.

“Yeah I’m coming!” You usher her out of the room and putting on a cover up before grabbing the car keys on the counter.

The moment you arrive at the beach you could feel the stares even though you haven’t even gotten out of the car yet. Once you found a parking spot, your best friend darted straight to the toilet, claiming she had to hold it in the entire car ride and was about to explode.

You roll your eyes and grabbed the beach bag she had prepared and pulled the car keys out, tossing it in the bag and walking to the beach

You finally take it just how much you missed the sun and going to the beach, afterall, this is the first time you were at the beach after the incident.

Walking around to find a good place to sit down and relax, your eyes scan the beach and it’s beauty. The sand was soft and white and the waters was so clear you could see everyone who was swimming, the little kids running back from the sea to the shore with a bucket of water in hand and building sand castles, the group of teenagers playing a round of beach volleyball and the couples who sat together under the sun. You stared at them, was it out of jealousy? admiration? You were confused.

“Earth to MC? Earth to MC!” Your best friend waves her hand in front of your face, snapping you out of your daze. “You okay?”

“Huh? Oh uh yeah, I’m fine. Just spaced out” You reply, not entirely focused on her even after that. Taking off your cover up, you heard whispers, it’s not surprising, the beach was crowded and talk about the giant scar going from your neck to your tailbone was inevitable.

“Come on MC! Let’s go into the water, it would be a waste not to!” She smiles at you before dragging you into the water, you thank her internally.

As you were walking into the water, a volleyball hits you square in the head, knocking you over. you were about to turn around and give a nice hard lashing out on whoever hit you but instead you were greeted with a beautiful albino male.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. Are you okay?” He asks, eyes full of guilt and concern and hand reached out to pull you up. “I hit such a pretty girl too” He whispered that last line.

“I’m not that pretty but thank you and I’m fine. How would you like to compensate?” You weren’t even thinking. The rage from earlier disappeared into thin air and was replaced with butterflies.

MC what the fuck was that. You don’t even know the guy and you’re asking him for a compensation? It was an accident. You cursed yourself.

“Oh?” He laughs and you couldn’t help but smile at his dorky laugh. It was cute. “You heard that? I’m sorry, how about a drink for the pretty lady as an apology then? I’m Zen”

You turn your head to your best friend who had the stupidest grin on her face and gave you a thumbs up, telling you it was okay.

“That would be nice Zen, I’m MC” You giggled, you walk in front of him and that was when his eyes grew so big it almost popped out from its socket.

You noticed the his absence and turned around, you trail his sight to the scar on your back, a soft “oh” escaped your lips.

“Zen, you okay?” You ask him, fear was slowly creeping up on you. Did his opinion on you change? Was he disgusted? You didn’t know and that killed you.

“You..” He starts, walking towards you, his eyes soften and he grabs your hands. You heard constant apologies roll off his tongue and was confused

“Hey I know you are, it’s no big deal. You already apologised and even-” Before you even finish, he interrupts you by putting his finger to your lips and your cheeks instantly flush at his touch. He turns around and that was when it was your turn to be wide-eyed. The exact same scar.

“You’re my soulmate” He whispers, this time a smile on his handsome face. “God, it must’ve been rough on you right? like you had this stupid scar that I got because I was a punk and almost died because I pissed off another gang and they jumped me and I had to be sent to the hospital because of it and since my parents hate me I had to pay off the hospital bill myself and I didn’t even realize that my soulmate was going to have the same stupid scar until a while after that I’m so sorry” When he finished, he felt a warm embrace against his shirtless body. It was so nice to have someone embrace him like that, he had been so affection starved that he melts into the hug.

“It’s okay Zen” He was much taller than you so your chest pressed against his abs and you look up to him, flashing him a smile, you plant a kiss on his jawline and grabbed his hand. “Come on, my treat”

“But I-” He was interrupted by you tugging his arm, for a girl your size, you had a lot of strength.

At that moment, it didn’t matter that he almost gave you a concussion, it didn’t matter that he was the one responsible for the comments and whispers you got about your scar, it didn’t matter that you had abandoned your best friend at the beach alone because right now, the only thing that mattered was getting to know your soulmate.

I’ve been itching to write a Zen drabble and this is a special birthday gift for @mysticm3ss ! happy birthday <3

[shasta-reese]

100th episode. let’s do this

Alright, so I’m trying something new. So I will be writing this as I’m watching the episode itself so i don’t forget anything cuz I don’t have the best memory. This will be a analysis of sorts but also just my general thoughts and reactions throughout the episode, so if you’re not interested in reading a long ass post this ain’t for you, but if you are Hello there. Alright then, let’s begin.

- Love the beginning already since I’ve always wondered if Mxy would’ve ever make a return. Also, love that Alex and J’onn’s happy place is playing paintball with each other, that’s adorable. 

- God I wish Lena went to see Sam in the actual timeline, not some alternate timeline that never happened. I miss Sam so much I wish she stayed. Also, so glad they confirmed my thoughts on Lena having self-doubt over what Kara has told her as Supergirl and Kara, because they never clarified that. Honestly season 3 was just a shitshow with Kara being terrible towards Lena as Supergirl but being all buddy-buddy as Kara, that was just wrong of her to do.

- MY GOD YES SAM! GIVE LENA THE HUG SHE DESERVES AND POSITIVE EMOTIONAL REASSURANCE!

- Ah shit Kara died in this timeline. Fuck i hate seeing sad!Alex. Kinda wish they showed Lena and how she dealt with Kara dying after literally running away from her.

- Finally Kara admits she is a hypocrite. yeah no shit you shouldn’t have sent James to break into Lena’s vault (he never did but she still thought he did and asked him to do it)

- LMAO Mxy wants to give Kara a catchphrase

- Man... these reveals never get any easier to watch. Also, proof that if Lena knew sooner she wouldn’t have hidden Sam at L-corp and not told anyone (but that is beside the point). Ah fuck, Lena doesn’t help with the Worldkillers.

- “I never understood what you saw in him.” HAHAHA god Mxy you’re killing me 

- Hate to tell you Mon-El but you and Lena do not have a lot in common. what you said might be the only thing you have in common. 

- I think I might hate this alternate timeline because it just brings back memories of every single fanfic I’ve read where Lena dies in Kara’s arms. And this is worse cuz its an instant death and Lena doesn’t even get an unrealistic amount of time for last words. PS. I still think Reign is one of the top villains that Supergirl has had.

- Goddamn she remembers what Lena said word for word. How could I not ship these two idiots?

- Look at my babies saving the world together! Love that Lena is still the one that gives her pants in this timeline too. Too bad this timeline also goes to shit. Also how did the public know that Lena knew Supergirl’s identity? Wow... “nothing is comparable to a Kryptonian paired with a Luthor” ... just wow

- Damn could you imagine though a world where Lena actually gets credit for all the good she does? Too bad that could only be a dream, and apparently only in alt timelines that don’t exist.

- Ben Lockwood’s family died tragically but you can’t exactly put that blame on Supergirl. Also kinda find it a little hard o believe that they jumped off a building thinking that Supergirl would save them because logically even if Supergirl did swoop in, I don’t think she would be able to carry 3 people at once? But honestly you never know with cult mentalities. Also Kara never asked for people to worship her, but in this timeline if The Cult of Rao was common knowledge you would think that she would make a statement about not being some kind of God and telling people to not treat her like one. But then again that wouldn’t exactly stop people either, cuz people don’t really do what you tell them to.

- I find it just a little hard to believe that Agent Liberty managed to kill every single one of them, considering that they would be aware that they are in more danger than ever that they would be on high alert and take extra precautions. I mean I guess they had Lex fund them but still.

- Can we just acknowlegde though that it literally took Lena being tortured and experimented on for 2 whole years by Lillian, to be evil. Going through literal hell and being made (LITERALLY) into a villain. Also I’m just curious how Lena convinced Reign to work with/for her, like seriously, and if Reign is still here, where are Purity and Pestilence?

- Bad timeline aside. Alex and Kelly fighting side by side, cool as fuck. Dreamer is in more control of her powers is amazing. Also, can i just say Jesse Rath’s range in playing Brainy is simply amazing.

- Just seeing Kara so reluctant to fight Lena is simply heartbreaking. Damn that sword that Reign has is cool as fuck. Although I would NEVER EVER want Lena to turn evil, I think that we can all agree that Katie Mcgrath is incredible at playing bad guys, like come on.

- Awww, Mxy looked so upset that he couldn’t fix Kara and Lena’s relationship. But he did help Kara get over her guilt and is not doing things for Lena just because she feels guilty. I do find it a little funny that only now Kara is learning the phrase “your actions have consequences”, even if those actions had good intentions, and that you can’t change the past. Good intentions don’t always result in good outcomes.

- I really like this take on Mxy, all he wanted was a friend, aww. I wonder if he’ll ever make a reappearance.

- I made a post regarding Kara’s speech to Lena so if you want a longer version of what I thought click here. but for the short version, i agree with what Kara said except that very last line of “just like any other villain”, find it ironic considering Kara literally just watched a clip of Lena saying not being a villain but being treated like one. but if that’s what it takes for Lena to have a wake up call, then I guess I’ll take it. But I don’t exactly agree with using this kind of tough love with Lena, I made a whole other post regarding that called Lena & Love, so if you’re interested click here for my opinion that no one asked for.

- That last scene really makes me miss Danvers Sisters moments. 

Well I guess that’s the entire episode. Overall, I think this is the only episode that I don’t have much to really criticise, it was a good episode. So that’s all from me.

Goodbye, for now.

[audreysjensens-blog]

bi-curious and the new girl {part I} - zombie hickeys and theater pranks

you’re new in a town that’s recently been wrecked by the piper shaw murders. when you go to the movies to ease your mind before the first day of school, you meet audrey jensen, and then both of you are the victims of the prank that took place at the beginning of season two. accidentally holding hands during the aforementioned livestreamed prank totally doesn’t mean anything, right?

set at the beginning of season two!

~~

“Jesus Christ, I’m never gonna get this off,” you say to yourself, patting at the ink mark on your collarbone. You’d left a pen in there during the movie, and now you were left with an increasingly mottled-looking stain that looked like a zombie hickey.

The Zenith Theater was closing soon, you knew, so getting the mark out became less urgent the second you saw your watch.

“Shit. Fuck. Shit,” you say, buttoning up your shirt and pulling your necklace over the top. You had miscalculated how long the bathroom excursion would take. The theater closed at 10. It was 10:05. The last thing you wanted to do was delay workers going home because of your mistake.

Shrugging your bomber jacket back on and turning off the sink, you push the door open and start to make your way back to the lobby, cursing yourself all the way for all of the weird looks you were certain to get for being in a theater late. It was a Sunday, after all, and you had just gone in to ease your nerves about starting at a new school the next day.

Your dad was out of the picture, so when your mom needed to relocate from Pennsylvania, you had to go with her. Especially since it was a promotion; she’d gotten assigned to head of surgery at Lakewood’s hospital.

Good thing, you thought to yourself. All this murder stuff, there’s got to be someone around to help-

You were so lost in your thoughts that in turning the corner, you slammed directly into one of the theater attendants, dropping your phone and your entire bag in the process. The girl, short, dark hair pushed to the side of her head, starting apologizing profusely, her broom and mop bucket pushed into the side wall.

“I am so, so sorry,“ you sputtered out, picking up all of your belongings and slipping them back into the leather bag. “I’m such a dumbass, I was in the bathroom, and… Sorry. Sorry,” you continued, looking up to find the girl staring at you.

Pretty, was your first thought. Like an idiot, your next word was-

“Audrey.”

The girl, already smiling out of sheer curiosity, handed your chapstick back to you.

“You know my name?” she says, standing back up as you slowly try to recover. Wow, your brain said, stupidly. She really is prettier than she was on the news. Then, the other side of your consciousness kicked in. Speak, dumbass!

“Uh.. Yeah. I just moved here. My mom’s working at GW General. Before I moved, I did some research on what was, you know, going on here. Saw you on the news. DIdn’t think I’d slam into you at your place of work, which, again, I’m super sorry about,” you said, tucking your hands into the pocket of your skirt.

“Nah, it’s cool,” she says, smiling still. “Surprised that after all that research you still decided to move here,” she says, pointing up at the banner that proudly declares Happy 100th Murderville!

She was funny, and nicer than you had expected someone working the graveyard shift on a Sunday to be. Not to mention pretty, but that was besides the point.

An awkward silence started between you two after you giggled at her joke, adding along a, “Well, I’m officially a Murderville citizen. Hopefully it stays that way.”

She was still looking at you, getting flustered by just talking to a cute girl that worked at a movie theater. You crossed your arms in front of your chest, and, grinning, looked at your feet. Extending your arm in front of you, you said, “I’m Y/N. If I see you again, hopefully it’s under less creepy-ass circumstances.”

She shook your hand thoughtfully, her rings a cold touch on your palm. “Hopefully I will see you again,” she said, tucking her uniform vest back in properly and confidently pushing a hand through her short, black tresses. “Maybe at school?”

“Yeah, maybe,” you said, trying to hide your already flushed cheeks. Holy fuck, she’s flirting with me, kept crossing your mind, and out of sheer fight or flight (and the desire to not say something that would make her see you as weird), you turned to leave. “I’m gonna head out,” you said, thumb flipping to the front door.

“Oh,” she says, looking mildly disappointed (or maybe that’s what the masochistic part of your brain wanted to see). “Front door needs a key.”

“Oh. Got it. I hate getting cucked by locked doors.”

She snorts, turning back to the snack bar, hands lightly skimming the surface of the table. A confused look crosses her face, then immediately replaced by a look of somewhat curiosity. “A key, which I can’t find? I’m always misplacing my stuff, sorry. I can walk you out the back?” she says, turning towards the theater’s entrance.

“Sure,” you say, exchanging a small-smiled glance before she steps in front of you, leading the way into the theater you were in about fifteen minutes before.

A few steps down into the aisle, Audrey speaks again, and you desperately try to push down any embarrassing feelings or thoughts out of your head.

“Ugh, it’s gonna be a bitch to clean up in here,” she says, eyeing a spilled popcorn bucket in the corner of the room. “You’d think on Sundays people would be more careful.”

You glanced at your watch, thinking about your 11:30 curfew.

“You know, I could stay and help you clean,” you say, shrugging your bag higher on your shoulder as you pass the screen. “I don’t have to be home for a while. Plus, it’ll take my mind off the first day tomorrow. And if I go home now, I’m just going to be watching Arrested Development til three a.m.”

Audrey broke out in a timid grin, turning to you, which you returned. “It’s…. It’s really nice that you’d offer, but-“

Suddenly the lights in the theater blinked out, bathing you and Audrey in complete darkness except for the small lights in the booth. You were scared for a second, shifting awkwardly while Audrey yelled for whoever was messing around to “Cut it out!”

Almost instantly, the refreshments commercial started to play on the screen, the echoing jingle sending shivers down your spine. Audrey looked shaken too, turning to you.

“Were you here with anyone?” she whispers, looking around for whoever could be doing this. “If they’re pulling a prank or something-“

“I was here by myself, I swear,” you say, putting your hand on your heart. Audrey looks reproachful, but seems to believe you the more you elaborate. “I just got nervous with the first day tomorrow. I thought maybe seeing some old movies would take my mind off of it.”

“Okay,” she says, turning to you again. “We’re going to have to get out of here-“

The second she speaks, her vision lines up with something on the top rafter of the balcony. You match her line of sight to find a cloak-adorned body and that Brandon James mask. Oh, my God, you keep thinking. I’m gonna die in here. What the fuck! I’m gonna die in here-

“Come with me!” Audrey yells, grabbing your hand and sprinting with you back into the lobby. If it wasn’t such a tense situation you’d have butterflies, but right now gigantic moths were taking over your stomach. You reached in your bag and brought out a taser while Audrey ransacked the snack bar looking for her keys, panicking all the while.

“Shit! They’re not here!” she yells, just as the killer emerges from the doors, keys in hand and camcorder strapped on. Fuck.

Acting on instinct, you throw a bucket at his head and sprint down the hallway, Audrey’s hand still in yours. She knocks down boxes laying near the bathrooms, buying the two of you more time as you burst into the entranceway.

“Noah!” Audrey yells, seeing a gaping blond boy standing in the doorway, screaming. “Call the cops, now!”

There’s another killer standing there, not to count the one behind you. Out of sheer panic, your hands sweating and legs quaking, you step in front of Audrey and face them both.

Taser brandished, you point it at the knife-wielders and take a menacing step forward. “Come any closer and I’ll shoot.”

The killer on the left starts to close in, you and Audrey backing up behind the counter. “Duck!” she yells, and you’re down in an instant, watching Audrey blast one of the masks away with a fire extinguisher.

The second she’s done, you grab it and shatter the glass on a display case with it, grabbing a screwdriver and handing it to Audrey.

“NOW!” you yell, while she stabs the other in the stomach.

He goes down, sirens blaring as you and Audrey stand horrified against the display cases. “She stabbed me,” you hear muffled, as one of the killers removes their mask, revealing a sweaty boy’s face. “She stabbed me!”

The other mask comes off to reveal a girl’s face, mouth agape in horror. “What?! Why the hell would you do that?!” she yells at Audrey. “It was a prank!”

“What?!” Audrey says, looking downright furious.

“A prank!” the girl says, showing how her knife was fake. “A prank!”

“Fuck you! That’s not a good prank, Jesus Christ!” you spit, stepping into the girl’s space. “You’re lucky you’re not dead right now. Try some shit like this again and I promise you will be,” you growl, taking a step back and watching the girl glare at you with dismay.

Immediately, the doors are kicked open and police rush into the lobby, pulling the masked girl and boy away. Relief enters your mind, and you collapse against the side banister, not even noticing until you do that you and Audrey’s hands are still connected.

You pull your hand away as if electrocuted, panicking. “Sorry, sorry, I-“

“Don’t worry about it,” Audrey says, looking right at you with an odd expression on her face. You couldn’t really pin down what it said.

“Oh my God!” says who must’ve been Noah, pushing past the police and to you and Audrey, engulfing his best friend in a massive hug. “I thought for sure you were a goner, and, uh,” he looks up at you, nervously smiling. “You too.”

Audrey looks between the two of you, slowly making introductions. “Noah, this is Y/N. She’s new in Lakewood, and looks like those kids really wanted to welcome her. And me by proxy, I guess. But I wasn’t expecting such a badass in my midst. You really told that girl,” she says, lightly laughing and stroking her arm.

You let out a small, nervous giggle, exchanging another look with Audrey.

“Yeah, I don’t really know where the whole Jason Bourne act came from, so… I’m going to give my statement and then head home,” you say, turning to leave. “Unless you want to walk me out the back again?”

Audrey laughs and leans back against her hands, grinning at her shoes. “Oh, you wish.”

Leaving to go, you and Audrey only had one thought on your mind. And that was how long before you’d see each other again.

[your-iron-lung]

No Shade in the Shadow of the Cross 13

aka ‘Slow Down’; available to read on AO3 HERE

Story Synopsis:  Some weird low-key occult parties start popping up that Steve can’t in good conscience ignore and takes it upon himself to investigate. Billy gets caught up in the consequences of his meddling, and isn’t it funny? For all the strange things the Upside Down has thrown his way, it’s werewolves that Steve has trouble accepting exist.

Chapter Word Count: 7216

Pairings: Eventual Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington

Genre: Supernatural/Suspense/Drama/Horror-ish

Previous Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12

Next Chapter: 14

Notes: SURPRISE!! its a SECRET DOUBLE UPDATE 'secret double update? what does it MEAN?' it means that, when i went back to re-read my story to make sure i was keeping on track for continuity purposes, i couldnt even get through the first chapter! it was just THAT BAD (imo), so i went back and re-wrote it entirely. it doesnt offer anything new in terms of plot, but boy howdy is it an upgrade to what it used to be. bless those of you who kept up with the story after reading that trainwreck

(this chapter update is dedicated to @pfandghoul​ bc they were my 100th follower here- THANKS BUDDYYYY) OH ALSO- i got a commission done of billy in the TERRIBLE OUTFIT (but with hair, bc i cant commission an artist like demonfleet and not have him draw those beautiful curls). PEEP IT HERE

-----

“Who else knows?”

Hopper’s voice, though sluggish and weighted with exhaustion, still carried with it a tone of seriousness that had Steve feeling prematurely guilty about the way the rest of the conversation was going to play out. He knew what Hopper was really asking; knew he wanted to hear confirmation that the kids weren’t somehow involved in any of this, and even though they weren’t, not yet, Steve still found himself turning his eyes away from Hopper’s authoritative stare, focusing his attention instead on the spot on the table where he’d been picking at the veneer absentmindedly. And although he knew the question was primarily directed towards himself, he let Billy answer.

“No one,” Billy said self-assuredly, a hint of surliness edging out with his tone as he exhaled a hot breath of smoke and leaned forward to stub his cigarette out in the ashtray centered between the three of them. He sat back in his seat with a grunt and a creaking of wood and promptly lit another.

Gathered in the Harringtons’ dining room- (the room itself being, remarkably, an equal point of pride to both of his parents)- the three of them sat gathered around the antique wooden table that served as a centerpiece, perched around its aged surface in differing states of dishevelment. Their collective exhaustion was as palpable as the smoke trails that had been gathering and circling slowly above their heads for the past ten minutes, in which Billy had chain-smoked three cigarettes down to the filter before either Steve or Hopper had had the chance to finish their first.

Sitting across from him, Steve could feel Hopper’s eyes, sunken and dark and weary, boring into him as he waited for his response to confirm what Billy had said.

“No one else knows,” Steve affirmed after a moment’s hesitation, in which he took a hard drag of his cigarette and exhaled with a long, drawn out sigh. He could feel the pressure of what he was going to say next catching in his throat before he cleared it and amended, “Well, not… not yet, anyway.”

“Yet.”

The repeated word dropped from Hopper’s lips like a dead weight, falling upon the three of them like a bomb. It broke whatever uneasy peace they’d managed to find in those few minutes where they’d all just sat smoking in silence, each of them trying to recover from the ordeals they’d endured over the night before reconvening to tackle them again. In its place, a taut, malevolent tension began to take form, and in it Steve could feel the enmity brewing against him.

“Yet,” Hopper repeated again, and this time there was anger in his voice. Steve winced reflexively, slowly turning his eyes up from where they’d been focused on the tabletop to meet his anger directly. “And what does ‘yet’ entail exactly, huh, kid?”

Steve opened his mouth to answer, but couldn’t force the words he wanted to use to explain out. Under Hopper and Billy’s stares, all the reasoning he’d had stored up for why he needed to at least tell Dustin what was going on left him. He could feel the trust his only two allies had in him turning into something dark and misconstrued as he sat there struggling to form a sentence, but was helpless to combat it. 

“It’s not what you think-” he started to say, but was interrupted when Billy interjected by slamming his fist down hard upon the table, rattling the ashtray in its place and silencing him instantly.

“Well what the fuck is it then, Harrington?” There was such strong mistrust in Billy’s eyes when he spoke- mistrust and vehement anger, such that Steve could practically feel the foundations they’d laid in their almost-friendship crumbling apart. “Selling me out to this pig not enough for you? You trying to go national with this shit or something? What the fuck does ‘not yet’ mean?!”

“Hey! You need to calm down,” Hopper snapped, directing his ire towards Billy, who’d begun to rise out of his seat with each word spoken in anger. “Sit down and give him a chance to explain, alright?”

But he didn’t.

“Fuck that, and fuck you,” Billy said roughly, leering across the table at both Hopper and Steve. His stomach let out a low growl that momentarily stalled him long enough for Steve to intervene before he could say anything more.

“What the fuck are you talking about, ‘go national’? Do you even hear yourself, Hargrove?” Steve spat back, exasperated, tired, and unable to keep himself from matching Billy’s aggression when it was being thrust at him. He narrowed his eyes and took another hard drag off his cigarette before continuing, saying, “Who the hell do you think would even believe me? You think I’m just going to stroll into the Hawkins Post and try to sell them a werewolf story? ‘Oh uh, yeah, some douchebag I know turns into a big bad wolf during a full moon. You might wanna print that- warn the people! Billy Hargrove’s a more literal monster than we thought!’ I didn’t even believe in any of this crap at first, who do you think I could I possibly sell that to?”

The words came spilling out of Steve’s mouth before he could even think about what it was he was saying. He knew he’d fallen for another one of Billy’s taunts but couldn’t help himself; he refused to be painted as the villain in Billy’s fabricated scenario when he hadn’t even done anything yet, and certainly hadn’t been planning anything near as diabolical as selling Billy out to the country as some kind of freak sideshow act. Steve matched Billy’s glare evenly, half-aware of the way Hopper had groaned and run a hand down the length of his face. ‘You’ve really done it now, kid,’ his expression seemed to say.

Appearing taken aback, Billy seemed somewhat startled by the harsh words Steve had doled out to him. With a hand across his stomach, a small hint of vulnerability crossed over his features before he quickly reigned it back and pulled his lips back into a harsh snarl, his half-smoked cigarette dangling forgotten in the corner of his mouth to reveal at last what oral thing had been bothering him so much on the car ride over.

His teeth, Steve observed dumbly as he stared openly at the obstructions lining his mouth. Of course it was his teeth.

Thin, long, and all of them pointed, they looked more suited to what might be found in the muzzle of a large hound rather than in the mouth of a man. They were canine in nature, unnaturally fitted in his mouth where before his teeth had been straight and white and pristine, forming a smile so blindingly handsome it wasn’t always easy to look away.

“You’re right! You didn’t believe in any of this at first, but all it took was a little bit of proof to convince you though, right, Harrington?” Billy cooed smoothly after a moment, an eager look flashing in his yellow-blue eyes at the prospect of their argument turning into a physical fight in Steve’s parents’ dining room. “How much proof do you think it’d take to convince one shitty reporter in this hick town, huh? A mouth full of weird teeth? A broken arm that heals itself in, what, the span of two days? I mean, isn’t that what did it for you, Harrington? Witnessing this small little biological miracle of mine? Maybe that would do the trick. Could really blow the lid off of this one; might even be able to contribute something to your daddy’s legacy besides being a little piece of shit.”

“Enough!” Hopper’s voice burst from his throat, booming loudly in the condensed space. The suddenness of his outburst was enough to draw both Steve and Billy’s attention off of one another, though they were each reluctant to turn away. “You!” Hopper shouted, pointing one finger authoritatively at Steve, who sat and stared at him with a baffled look on his face, “Quit goading him on, goddammit. And you,” he continued, turning his command to Billy, “sit down and shut the hell up! He might be mouthing off, but you need to show this kid some damn respect for taking responsibility last night. He could’ve died going after you, do you understand that? He could have died for you.”

The weight of Hopper’s words had the exact impact he wanted them to. Steve turned away in embarrassment as a funny look crossed over Billy’s face. Confusion wormed its way through his anger, furrowing his brow and pulling his lips into a frown. It was a look Hopper had seen many times before when he’d been in the army, when soldiers who’d been at arms with one another were forced to let it go under the threat of punishment from their higher ups. It was a dark, begrudging sort of obedience fresh cadets endured when their commanding officers demanded they stand down when they weren’t quite ready to. With his momentum shaken, Billy’s look of anger slowly slipped into something a little more unreadable as he sank back down into his seat, muttering a quiet “Yes, sir” aloud as his stomach emitted another horrifically loud growl that everyone in the room ignored.

“Christ, I’m dealing with children here,” Hopper mumbled, kneading his fingers against his temple. He took a moment to take a deep breath of collection and lit another cigarette, flicking his lighter fruitlessly a couple of times before a spark struck and he continued speaking.

“Nothing said here leaves this house,” he said sternly, making sure to make and hold eye contact with each of them to stress the importance of his words. “This,” he said, gesturing vaguely to Billy with his freshly lit cigarette, “doesn’t go ‘national’; it doesn’t even go local, you got that? Whoever your ‘not yet’ applied to doesn’t get to know, so you can put the idea that you’re going to tell anyone else about any of this right out the window, understand?”

He looked sharply to Steve then, insisting in so many words that the children be left out of whatever they decided to do moving forward. Steve bit the inside of his cheek and looked away stubbornly, nodding once as he crossed his arms across his chest. He was aware of how he must’ve looked- like a spoiled, pouting child- but he couldn’t help it. Of course he understood; it didn’t take a genius to understand why this needed to be kept secret, but he still owed Dustin an explanation, and right now he figured he liked Dustin a hell of a lot more than he liked Hopper.

Hopper watched him with a scrutinizing eye, and, as though he could read Steve’s thoughts, said, “Let me hear you say it.”

“What?”

“Say you understand,” Hopper said quietly, ignoring for a moment the fact that Billy was sharing the space with them. He enunciated each word with gentle forcefulness, not issuing him orders now so much as silently begging for compliance. “The three of us can handle it. We don’t need for anyone else to get involved.”

The air in the room felt very still in that moment. The cigarette smoke that had been pooling above them like a pale cloud continued its slow and stagnant swirl, apathetic to the nature of their conversation. Staring at him, Steve once again felt guilty. After everything that the chief had done for him, he still couldn’t commit to the promise Hopper wanted him to make. He understood where his concerns were coming from, but Dustin was already involved, in a way. He sighed.

“Well, the thing is,” Steve began to say, nervously tapping his fingers against the table, “Dustin kind of already knows?” Hopper’s expression turned dark, as Steve had expected it to, but better he tell him now than for him to find out later. “I mean, I asked the kid to use his house! You were there; you dropped me off. I didn’t tell him for what, or WHO,” he said, shooting Billy a pointed look, “but he knows something’s up. It’s kind of obvious I was trying to use his cellar as a holding cell, and I promised I’d tell him about it once things settled down.”

Hopper exhaled a long and forlorn sigh, rubbing his face into his hands tiredly. “Could this get anymore convoluted?” he mumbled to himself before he looked up and locked his gaze onto Steve. “Fine. You promised to tell him about it, so you will.”

Confused, Steve shifted his attention from Hopper to Billy. “I will?”

“Yep.” Hopper blew out a long string of smoke. As he did so, the tension he’d held in the muscles of his face seemed to relax. “We’re going to double-down on your dog story. You’ll tell him you were dogsitting for one of your mom’s friends. Dog got loose, and you had to lure it back. Threw some meat down there to attract and trap it. I trust you to make up some details to fill in the gaps if he asks anything specific. You got that?”

Steve stared at him, knowing full well there wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell that Dustin would ever believe that. And besides, Steve had already told him it was a red alert, but if this was what it took to get Hopper off his back, then, maybe it was fine.

“I understand,” he said, knowing he would, eventually, have to ask forgiveness for his future misdeeds.

“Good.”

Steve lit another cigarette and breathed it in deeply, hating how openly relieved Hopper sounded. He stole a glance towards where Billy was sitting with his own cigarette still hanging limply from his lips and felt that guilt compounded. He couldn’t say for certain what Billy must have thought of him at that point, but there was no way he’d have been able to keep helping him on his own, because Hopper was right: he had almost died last night. But with the worst of it over (he hoped), they could focus less on that and put their heads together to figure out what to do going forward. 

Or, they could have, if Hopper’s hip radio hadn’t begun to crackle in that exact instance, releasing a string of police-coded jargon through the speaker. They all collectively jumped a little at the startling noise as the dispatcher (Florence’s voice, Steve recognized) requested Hopper’s aid in assisting his deputies with something he couldn’t decipher. 

“Great,” Hopper mumbled to himself, stubbing out the cigarette he’d hardly been able to enjoy. If possible, he looked even more tired than when he’d walked in. “Yeah, I copy,” he said into the radio as he unlatched it from his belt. “I’ll be there soon; give me a few minutes to wrap it up here and I’ll meet them at the scene.”

He clipped the small receiver back onto his belt before coming to a stand, groaning in a way that was similar to Steve’s dad when he’d been sitting down for too long.

“You’re leaving?” Steve asked as he watched Hopper collect his hat and place it haphazardly on his head. 

“Duty calls,” Hopper grunted noncommittally. He pulled on the coat he’d left on the back of his chair and zipped it up to the collar. “I had a few of my boys start investigating a lead for me. A small one, but if they’re calling me out there, it means they’ve found something, and hopefully it’ll help us settle all this a little more quickly.”

“But we haven’t made a plan for what to do the next time this happens,” Steve said concernedly. He felt exhausted beyond his years, but none of their major issues had been solved or even discussed yet. “We haven’t talked about what we’re supposed to do at all.”

“Next time?”

Steve turned from Hopper to Billy, who’d spoken softly and, despite having looked enraged only moments before, now appeared confused. 

“Well, yeah,” Steve said, flicking the ash off the end of his cigarette into the ashtray, “this is like, a monthly thing for you now, right? Kind of like a girl when she gets her-”

“Don’t fucking say it,” Billy growled. Steve shrugged, unbothered.

“...but only for a day instead of like, for a week,” he finished, feeling a little bit of self-satisfaction at the way Billy cringed and groaned. 

“God fucking dammit Harrington.”

“You were the one who showed me the movie though,” Steve said, shifting the subject easily to skirt around Billy’s annoyance. Hopper lingered by the dining room’s opening, hearing out the tail-end of Steve’s concerns. “It didn’t end for him after one month; he was like, doomed to keep turning every full moon forever or something, right? Isn’t that how werewolves work, and doesn’t that, y’know, kind of include you now?”

A dawning look of horror spread across Billy’s pale face as he made the connection. He blinked once, let the long trail off ash fall off his cigarette onto the table, and looked away, dazed, as though the thought of having to relive last night’s nightmare hadn’t occurred to him before. 

“What do you mean, next time?” Hopper asked, parroting Billy’s earlier confusion. “You saying he’s liable to... turn again?”

Steve nodded somberly. “We can’t use Dustin’s house again; he escaped way too easily, but I guess we have a month to prepare, so it’s not critical right now or anything,” he explained, to which Hopper acknowledged him with a low hum. “But we still definitely need a plan for next time.”

“Leave it to me, kid; I might have something I can make work,” Hopper muttered. His eyes were unfocused as he turned and began to leave, already mentally trying to work out the specifics of whatever it was he had in mind. “Remember,” he called back once he’d reached the front door, his haggard voice echoing down the short hall, “nothing said here leaves this house.”

He didn’t wait for affirmation before departing. From the dining room they heard the soft click of the front door as it opened and shut, leaving Billy and Steve alone in the dining room. Turning in his seat to look out the front-facing windows, Steve watched Hopper get into his truck and start the engine, noting the way he let his head hang briefly for a moment before he perked up to back out of the driveway. And then he was gone. 

A wave of exhaustion overcame as he sat there, eyeing the empty space where Hopper’s truck had been. He was hungry, tired, and wanted nothing more than to just be able to sleep forever, but as long as he was needed, that wasn’t likely to happen. His role as caretaker was ever-expanding, and now, it seemed to include Billy as well. 

Hopper had managed to hold the peace between them (though barely) while he’d been there, and Steve couldn’t presume to know how things were going to go now that it was just him and Billy again. As he turned back in his seat and finished off the rest of his cigarette, he realized that whatever aggression Billy had been harboring towards him was gone. 

“Next time,” Steve heard him mumble to himself. The dejected manner in which he spoke was so unlike himself that he was reminded of the way he’d been behaving the day before, as though he could no longer find his own self-worth. Billy took the cigarette that had been hanging off his lip and held it in his hand, staring at the dimly glowing cherry before looking up to catch Steve’s eye to say, “I don’t think I can go through that again.”

He said it with such vulnerable honesty that Steve found he didn’t know how to respond. His own self-worth took a hit as guilt and pity began to rise within him as he stared back at Billy, hating that he didn’t know what to say. It felt wrong to try and supply him with empty assurances when he had heard firsthand and seen the aftermath of how painfully debilitating the transformation had been. There was nothing he could say that could possibly begin to alleviate the horror that came with knowing it was going to come and afflict him again and again, month after month, for the rest of his life.

What sort of consolation could he possibly offer him?

“C’mon,” Steve eventually said, depositing the butt of his cigarette into the ashtray as he scooted his chair back to stand up. Billy watched him with an exhausted, yet vaguely sorrowful expression that Steve decidedly didn’t like. “I’ll show you the bathroom.”

Well, at least he could offer him a shower.

-----

Steve could hear the shower running by the time he came back up the hall with a fresh towel in hand, but Billy wasn’t yet locked inside the bathroom. He was leaning up against the wall beside the bathroom door, arms folded across his chest and eyes closed, dozing off while he waited for the water to warm up. As Steve approached, he noticed that, while Billy had taken off the bloody ruination of his old shirt, he still had Mrs. Henderson’s ugly bathrobe loosely tied around his waist. 

Billy cocked one eye open when he heard him come close, and mutely traded the shirt for the towel when Steve offered it to him. Neither of them spoke as the exchange was made; a silence broken only by the sound of spraying water hitting the shower tile forming between them until Steve found it too unbearable to withstand.

“So,” he started to say, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, “about before… I, uh, really shouldn’t have, y’know, said what I did about you being a monster.”

From his position against the wall, Billy frowned. 

“I was just caught up in the moment,” Steve continued apologetically. “And I know that doesn’t like, excuse my actions or whatever, but it was still a shitty thing to say.”

As he opened both of his eyes, Billy found that Steve was looking everywhere but directly at him, and in fact had taken to looking at his own reflection in a decorative vase while he’d been talking. It was awkward; he was starting to feel uncomfortable about the sincerity Steve was trying to convey. 

“I don’t give a shit, it’s not like it bothered me,” Billy lied, speaking tersely. His stomach growled, and he placed a hand over it idly. “Trust me, I’ve been called worse things than that.” 

Steve’s shoulders slumped a bit as he worried the back of his hair into a knot. “Still,” he said awkwardly, finally turning away from the dark reflection of the vase, now absentmindedly trying to pull his fingers free, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

Clicking his tongue and rolling his eyes towards the ceiling, Billy huffed out a deep sigh and said, “Look, Harrington, if you’re willing to make me some pancakes and fry up some bologna we can call it even. Just, stop doing… whatever this is and let me shower.”

Steve paused to think about it. “Sure, okay, I can do that. I think we’ve got some pancake mix somewhere.” 

With that awkward bit of conversation out of the way, Billy eased up off of the wall he was perched upon and slid into the bathroom before Steve could make any sort of addendum and closed the door. He listened to the sounds of Steve’s retreating footsteps down the hall over the pouring water as he undid the tie around his hips and left the beanie on the sink counter, decidedly not looking in the mirror as he stepped into the strong, warm stream.

-----

Billy stayed in the shower for a long, long time.

Steve hadn’t really been expecting it to be a quick one, but still, as he stood over the stove making a tall stack of pancakes that would’ve been enough to satisfy the stomach of any starving man, he wondered just how long he needed. The water had to have been going cold by now.

The smell of the bologna frying in the pan had, at first, encouraged his appetite, but was now starting to turn his stomach. The smell of bologna alone had never been appealing to him, and to have to smell it as it cooked was nauseating.  He cut off the stove, transferred the fried meat to a serving plate, and then sat at the kitchen table to wait. 

He nibbled a little at a pancake, but couldn’t stomach the smell of the bologna well enough to finish it off. He waited at the table patiently, like a mother might when she was waiting for her kids to come down and eat and strained his ears to listen for when the water shut off upstairs. 

It didn’t, though. He could hear it trickling down through the pipes in the walls, quietly draining away whatever it was Billy was trying to cleanse himself of. 

Steve sighed miserably and folded his arms over the table, sliding the chair back far enough so he could rest his head over them like he used to in English. He closed his eyes (‘Just resting my eyes’, as his dad was prone to saying before he fell asleep on the couch), and soon found himself asleep.

-----

In a dream, it was snowing and he was driving, speeding along a narrow, unfamiliar road. 

‘Faster’, he was thinking to himself as he depressed the accelerator harder. ‘I have to go faster.’

A deep, dark blackness enveloped him from all sides outside of the car. He couldn’t see through it or if anything was in it, even though he knew, intrinsically, that he had his high beams on and should have at least been able to see where he was going. The road before him manifested as a slick black line, wavering in and out of focus between his rapidly swishing windshield wipers and the oncoming flurry.

He was in a hurry, though he didn’t know why. Billy was fine. Sitting in the passenger seat beside him, he looked almost bored with Steve’s pedestrian effort to save him.

“I’m doing my best,” Steve said, unsure of why he was now crying. “I’m going as fast as I can- please, please just understand that.”

“You haven’t done enough,” Billy responded in a voice that both was and wasn’t his own. It hurt Steve’s ears to listen to as he whimpered involuntarily. “I’m already lost.”

Alarmed, Steve took his eyes off the road to look at Billy and found him looking back. His eyes were a dark, glowing red, and he sat with his hand perched on the door handle. In the window behind him, red eyes that mirrored his own were slowly emerging from the darkness, coming so close to the car that the glass was beginning to fog up from its panting breath. How it was able to keep pace with the car when Steve had the accelerator pressed against the floor was unknown and frightening to him.

“Don’t,” Steve begged as Billy’s fingers curled around the handle, getting ready to pull it open like an emergency exit, “I can still help you.”

“I’ve been lied to before,” Billy said solemnly, his two-toned voice warbling as he pulled on the handle and opened the door to give himself over to the creature that was waiting hungrily by the window.

-----

“The fuck is this?”

Steve opened his eyes abruptly and nearly fell out of his seat as he transitioned into a wakeful state. Startled, he sat up and rubbed at his eyes uncomprehendingly.

“They’re just pancakes, Hargrove, don’t be rude,” he said sleepily without fully realizing what it was Billy was talking about. “Misshapen, maybe, but still just pancakes.”

Freshly showered, Billy stood before him wearing the beanie taken from Dustin’s house and some of Steve’s own clothing. An old ‘Hawkins High Phys. Ed.’ shirt clung tightly to his torso, baring a little bit of midriff above the hem of some old sweats. In his hand he held Steve’s two-way radio Dustin had gifted him to include him as part of their party, and through that radio he could hear Max’s voice trying to make contact.

“Steve, come in, Steve! Are you there?”

“Why do you have a two-way radio to my little sister sitting by your bed?” Billy asked icily, unabashed anger seeping out of his very being. 

“What the hell were you doing in my bedroom?” Steve countered, feeling his stomach drop when he came to understand the implications Billy was making. He stood up and made to swipe the radio from Billy’s hand. “It’s seriously not what you think.”

“Remind me, where have I heard that one before?” Billy pulled the radio easily out of Steve’s reach, glowering at him as they faced off. “This looks pretty fucking bad for you, Harrington; she’s not even fifteen yet, you sick fuck.”

“It’s not just for your sister,” Steve said heatedly, then, realizing how that sounded, amended by saying, “Look, I know you know I take care of her friends- this, it’s just-  it’s just a radio to communicate with them, alright? They’re weird nerds who don’t like to use phones like normal people. It’s not for anything as dirty as you’re imagining, so would you quit looking for reasons to hate me when I haven’t even done anything?”

Sighing, Steve ran a hand through his hair and reached out for the radio, silently asking for it to be handed over. Billy continued to hold it, staring at him with an indecipherable look on his face. They stood at odds with one another before Dustin’s voice came through the radio speaker.

“Steve! It’s Dustin, we have a situation- please advise. Come in, Steve! Over!” 

Billy looked at the radio in his hand and then at Steve with a scowl. He looked bored as he finally relinquished it without further fuss, sitting down at the table opposite of Steve and pulling the plates of food towards him. He gave him a mean look as he began sandwiching the fried slices of bologna between a couple pancakes before biting into them. 

Relieved and annoyed, Steve turned away to speak into the radio. “I’m here, I’m here, sorry, what’s up?”

“Oh my God, it’s about time!” Dustin huffed. “You said you’d radio me later and you never did! Over.”

“Some stuff came up,” Steve mumbled, sitting down at the table and rubbing at his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s Will,” Dustin explained. Steve frowned. “He says he saw something last night that might have to do with the Mind Flayer-”

“Whoa whoa whoa! Hold on a second,” Steve interrupted quickly, casting a furtive glance towards Billy who was now watching him suspiciously. “I’m uh, I’m not alone over here.”

There was silence on the radio after Steve let up on the talk button. Billy squinted at him and mouthed ‘it’s not what you think’ sardonically at him. Steve sighed and shrugged; there wasn’t an easy way to explain this.

“I swear Steve, if you’ve been ignoring us because you’re with a GIRL-”

“No!” Steve exclaimed in frustration. Why did it seem like everyone was against him today? “I’m not- I’m not with a girl; haven’t even been with a girl since-”

“Oh, Steve,” Billy chirped in an ugly, high falsetto, speaking loudly enough for the radio to catch and relay his voice clearly. “Quit playing with that toy and come back to play with me.”

Horrified at Billy’s poor impression of a girl, Steve turned to face him with a look of shock.

“What the hell is your damage Hargrove? You know they probably heard that,” he hissed as he let took his finger off the talk button. “Why do you constantly have to prove yourself as being the biggest thorn in my side? Can’t you hop off my dick for five fucking minutes?”

Billy snickered and laughed, clearly satisfied with himself. He shot him a wink when Steve turned up his middle finger at him and bit down on another one of his weird bologna/pancake amalgamations. 

“Was that Billy?”

Max’s voice. Both Steve and Billy froze as she called them out, sharing a mutual look of horror at having been recognized. 

“Steve? Why are you with Billy?”

“Uh.” Wide-eyed, he looked to Billy for help in answering, but was met with nothing but a look of shock. They both floundered for a moment, during which Billy took the chance to shove more food in his mouth as though to say he was currently preoccupied and couldn’t be assed to help explain. “It… wasn’t?” Steve finally answered lamely.

A strong silence permeated over the radio before it crackled and relayed Max’s voice as she said, “Steve, he’s made fun of me plenty of times that I’d know his ‘I’m a dumb girl’ voice from anywhere.”

Steve groaned and threw Billy a dirty look, to which he received a simple shrug in response. It wasn’t supposed to have been a secret, exactly, but his children knew the history between them just as well as he did and he’d eventually have to explain to them just how they’d come to be together sooner or later. “Alright, yeah, I’m with your brother. He’s at my place.”

“Step-brother,” Billy corrected gruffly, wiping away some crumbs from his mouth.

“Can he hear me right now?” Max asked.

“Uh,” Steve said. “Yeah, he can hear you,” he replied after Billy gave him the go-ahead.

“Don’t come home.”

At first, Steve thought she’d said it out of anger, or spite, or something. It was vague enough that it could have been construed that way (especially with how flatly she’d spoken), but the look on Billy’s face made it clear that it was less a threat and more a warning, of sorts. He stopped chewing his food, eyebrows coming together as he frowned deeply. That vaguely sorrowful look that had crept up around his eyes from before surfaced in his features again as he stared ahead of himself.

“Message received?” Steve asked quietly, unsure of how to process his change in demeanor, to which Billy gave a brief, curt nod. He shoved the plates of food away and sat back with a forlorn expression on his face. “Message received,” he repeated into the radio. “Could you uh, put Dustin back on? Who all’s over there with you guys?”

There was a moment of silence in which Steve pictured the radio changing hands. While he waited for a response, he pulled the dish with the pancakes on it closer towards himself and made a second attempt at eating one. 

“The whole party’s here, Steve. We have a situation that requires your assistance, over.”

“Yeah, I remember,” he said through a mouthful of soft food. “Not to be like, dismissive about it, but is there any chance it can wait? I’m kind of… ‘booked’, for the rest of the day; we can have, like, a group meeting and discuss things in person tomorrow, if it’s not urgent.”

He was careful not to mention how he planned on sharing Billy’s situation with them if they agreed, given how angry he’d been about the prospect earlier. It didn’t look as though Billy was paying him much attention at that point, however, as he stood up somberly and walked out of the dining room without a word, no longer interested in eavesdropping on his conversation. Steve wanted to follow after him to make sure he didn’t go anywhere he wasn’t supposed to, but stayed still and finished off the pancake he’d been eating.

“He says it’s not dire; just wanted us to be aware that something might be fucky. You wanna meet up with us tomorrow afternoon at Mike’s house? Over.”

“Sure, that’s fine,” Steve replied. He waited a moment to see if Billy was going to return, and when he was certain he wasn’t going to, he dropped his voice to a whisper and said, “I need you to do me a small favour before then, Henderson.”

“Oh my God, Steve, seriously? Another one? Over.”

Ignoring the indignation with which Dustin spoke, Steve continued. “I need you to research werewolves for me, alright? Like, specifically if it can be cured. Can you do that for me?”

“Uh, I mean, sure? Why though? Does this have something to do with our campaign? Over.” The fact that Dustin was so suspicious caused a little grin to spread out across Steve’s face. In spite of everything, leave it to Dustin to find a way to route it all back to the game he’d gotten him involved with.

“I’ll let you know tomorrow,” Steve said, unable to keep a teasing lilt from affecting the tone of his words. “And uh, just so you know, I’ll probably be bringing Max’s brother along, so don’t freak out if he shows up. Over and out, nerd.”

“Oh, now you decide to start using-”

Steve switched the radio off abruptly before Dustin could finish his sentence and set it face down on the surface of the table. He sat still for a moment, feeling his earlier exhaustion swirling within him like a snowglobe before he stood up and wandered out into the living room. He found Billy lying splayed out on the couch, eyes closed and resting easily atop the cushions.

“Just make yourself at home, why don’t you,” Steve said dryly, to which Billy gave a noncommittal grunt. “Do you, uh, need a place to stay tonight?” he asked awkwardly when he understood that Billy wasn’t going to move from his position.

Opening his eyes, Billy stared straight up at the ceiling with a stern look on his face. 

“I can stay with Tommy H. if it’s a problem,” he said after a minute. 

“I don’t really care what you do,” Steve replied, placing a hand on his hip. “But he’d ask questions, you know. You don’t really… look like how you should.” Billy heaved out a long and depressive sigh, shutting his eyes again. “It’s fine, though-  you can stay in the spare bedroom upstairs,” Steve offered.

“Couch is fine,” Billy mumbled. 

“You’d be missing out, it’s got a Queen-size mattress up there.” 

“Couch is fine,” Billy repeated tiredly.

Steve shrugged. “Suit yourself, I guess.” He studied Billy laid out flat across the couch and felt that familiar need to show him pity. He couldn’t help but wonder what Max’s warning applied to; wondered if Billy would tell him about it if he asked.

“You were right about what you said before.” Billy’s voice was soft with exhaustion, but even so, it managed to break into his thoughts. Steve gave him a look of incomprehension. “About my hair, you were right; it’s coming back.”

“Oh,” Steve said, refraining from tapping into his inherent desire to chirp ‘I told you so’ back at him. “That’s great, man. I knew it would.”

“Still paler than the underside of a witch’s tit though,” Billy muttered, holding up a hand to examine his new complexion morosely.

And, yeah, he was right: even though it seemed his hair was going to be restored to its former glory (given enough time), it didn’t look like the same could be said for his skin. He was still woefully pale, looking less like the golden god he’d been before and more like, as Billy had said, the pale underside of a witch’s tit. Steve eyed him contemplatively, trying to come up with a solution that didn’t involve him laying naked out in the snow to try and catch some sun.

“Do you remember Tammy Thomspon?” Steve asked eventually, to which Billy had to pause in order to connect the name with the person being referenced. Once he’d nodded, Steve continued. “She always had a tan year round; used to talk about how she’d go to like, tanning beds and stuff.”

“I am not going to a tanning salon, if that’s what you’re suggesting here Harrington,” Billy said decisively. 

“No no! She used to do tanning beds, but then she kept talking about how they were unhealthy and caused skin cancer and blah blah blah. Before the semester ended though, she said she started using some new thing; she was telling me about it in History before the final,” Steve elaborated, stepping further into the room to take a seat on the armrest of the couch. He snapped his fingers as he tried to remember what it was. “It was like, some spray on stuff? A spray-on tan, I think. You could try that? Wouldn't even have to go anywhere to get it done, I think it’s sold retail.”

Billy appeared lost in thought as he contemplated the option. He flexed his pale fingers and heaved another heavy sigh. “Anything would probably be better than this.”

‘You don’t- I mean, it’s not… you don’t look that bad,” Steve lied. Billy put his hand down and glared at him from the far end of the sofa. “Alright alright, so you look like the white end of a fingernail. We get some spray tan, rinse you in it, and presto, you’re back to being average, dark and handsome. I mean, if Tammy Thompson can do it, it shouldn’t be that hard, right?”

Billy snorted. “Handsome, huh? Probably not; she was as dumb as the rest of the cows here.”

“She wasn’t the brightest light in the shed,” Steve agreed, feeling the slightest bit embarrassed at having called Billy handsome. “But, cool; glad we got something sorted out today.

“I’ll be in my room if you need me for anything, and I know you already know where that is,” he said as he came to a rise, casting a snide look at Billy before heading back towards the staircase.

Predictably, Billy clicked his tongue in annoyance. “You realize you only gave me a towel earlier, right? I wasn’t about to put that thing on again. I wasn’t snooping; just trying to find a fucking change of clothes when I heard Maxine yelling for you on your shitty bedside table radio,” he said in that easy, drawling nature of his. “What was I supposed to think?”

“Why don’t you try thinking a little less and just ask instead of jumping to conclusions?” Steve huffed. He hadn’t wanted this to turn into another argument, but it seemed as though the conversation was quickly heading that way. “Look, I don’t- I’m too tired to argue with you. I’m gonna catch a nap and then we can like… I don’t know. Get some bottles of spray tan and hose you down in the backyard or something.”

Billy grunted in affirmation, and Steve was content to leave it at that. He shot Billy one last look before he stepped out of the living room, and, leaving the food out on the table where he’d left it, went straight up to his room. Like the condition he’d left Dustin’s cellar in, he’d clean up the dining room later.

As he entered his room, Steve was afraid, for a moment, that he’d find evidence of Billy having gone snooping through all of his belongings. It would’ve been just like him to try and find something else he could use to hold against him while Steve was unaware, but as he looked around the area carefully, it seemed as though his room appeared untouched. His closet was left open from where Billy had gone in to take the clothes he was currently wearing, but, true to his word, it didn’t look like he’d rifled any deeper into it then he’d needed to.

Relieved, Steve stepped forward until he was toe-to-hem with his bed and let himself fall face forward directly onto the mattress, exhaling a deep sigh once he collided with it. He laid there unmoving, breathing in the hot, trapped air between his face and his comforter before he rolled over and laid himself out spread-eagle to look up at the ceiling.  

“Why does this have to be so much harder than it is?” he groaned, cupping his hands together to cover his face. The familiar question he’d wrestled with of ‘why me?’ that he’d been struggling to answer since any of this started began cycling through his mind. Of course, now that he had time to rest, his brain wouldn’t let him. 

He just wanted to help, and already he’d almost lost the trust of the only two people he could rely on. Neither of them seemed to understand that it was too great a burden for one person to have to shoulder alone. It needed to be a team effort, but no one seemed willing to branch out and make it one. Once again, it was left to him to take the initiative.

“Why is it so hard for me to help anyone in this damn town?” he moaned.