#you're taking up so much curb space when you park i know it

[archangeldyke-all]

Subtop amab sevika please? Making her beg to fuck you and call her a good girl when she makes you cum 🥺

hehehehe gonna combine this with another ask i got too

sevika begs to eat you out ? 😋

i'm gonna continue the amab ceo trend we've got going on, because i've become emotionally attached to her lmaoo. thank u @love-sugarr for the inital prompt that started it all <3

enjoy!

men and minors dni

as much as she likes taking charge, and as good as it she is, sometimes sevika needs to turn her mind off.

she works really fucking hard during the days. you're constantly impressed by her knowledge, her ability to read situations, her quick decision making and her mental math. she's incredible.

and sometimes, she gets burnt out.

sometimes she comes home from work and collapses into a heap on the bed, groaning and wanting nothing more than to fall asleep and turn her brain off.

before you were together, she'd spend these nights drinking and smoking and flipping through shitty tv shows.

but now, she's got a much better way to turn her brain off.

it doesn't happen often, but when it does, you can always tell.

like today.

by lunchtime, sevika's eyes had glazed over with exhaustion..

on the drive home, she was completely silent, not even teasing you when you hit the curb pulling out of the parking lot.

at home, she walked right past her home gym, heading to the bedroom to starfish out on the bed and stare at the ceiling.

and now it's dinner, and sevika hasn't even tried her food.

enough is enough. it's time for you to take care of your girl.

sevika's got her head in her hand, her eyes glazed over and staring off into space. she doesn't even register you getting up from the table.

sevika blinks back to reality when you pull her chair out from the table and sit yourself down in her lap.

"wha?" she asks. you grin.

"hey, baby." you say. sevika blinks and gulps.

"hi." she whispers. you lean forward and press a kiss to her forehead. sevika's eyelashes flutter.

"you okay?" you ask. she hums.

"'m fine." she says. you smirk, reaching up to scratch against her scalp. she sighs.

"you're spacey." you say. "and tired." you add on.

sevika huffs. "i'm okay, really." she says, always hesitant to admit her weaknesses. you glare at her and she sighs, rolling her eyes. "fuckin' hate it when you do that." she says. you laugh.

"do what?" you ask.

"see right through me." she grumbles. you lean forward to press a kiss to her cheek.

"you like it." you say. sevika's lips twitch up at the sides. "plus, you're not hard to read. 's just that everyone else's too scared to call you out on it."

sevika chuckles. "and you're fucking insane and have no sense of self preservation." she says. you laugh.

"or i'm smarter than all those stupid fuckers and i know a catch when i see one." you say, winking. sevika snorts and winds her hands around your waist.

"something like that." she says, nuzzling her head against your chest.

for a few minutes, you just hold her against you, letting her nuzzle against your tits and breathe in your scent. you scratch at her scalp, kissing her hair every other minute.

when the tension in her shoulders disappears, and she's putty in your hands, you know you can start the next phase of your plan.

winding your hand through her hair, you gently tug sevika's head back so you can look in her eyes.

"wanna turn your brain off for a bit?" you ask. sevika blinks up at you.

"it's too early for bed." she says, confused. you laugh and swoop down to kiss her lips, swiping your tongue over her bottom lip before nipping it, pulling away when she gasps.

"i was thinkin' about something else. the bed'll be involved, but we won't be sleeping." you say.

you watch as sevika's mind slowly catches up to you, her eyes growing wide, her lips parting. she gulps, then speaks.

"yes, please." she whispers. you grin, and kiss her again.

dinner grows cold on the table, forgotten as you and sevika make out on your bed.

she's always so sensitive when she's like this. right now, she's shivering beneath you as you suck on her tongue and gently scratch your nails down her sides.

it takes a while for her to melt into her subbier head-space, but you know she's there when she starts whimpering beneath you, unable to take her eyes off you each time you pull away, her hands clawing into your hips and her thighs squeezing together beneath you.

"you okay?" you tease her. she whines.

"i-- i--"

you kiss her nose, and sevika's eyes cross as she tries to keep her gaze focused on you. when you pull away, sevika gulps.

"i'm okay." she whispers, her voice shaky.

you giggle. "you seem a little flustered, babe." you tease her. she blinks, too far gone to defend herself.

"want you." she admits. you smile.

"yeah?"

"so bad." she says, nodding.

"how do you want me?" you ask, starting to grind little circles against her bulge from where you're straddling her lap. she takes a shaky breath.

"however you'll have me." she whispers. you laugh.

"gonna have to be more specific than that, baby. i got about a million things i wanna do to you at any given moment."

sevika doesn't answer, she's too busy squirming beneath you. you laugh and flick her forehead.

"i asked you a question." you say.

"i, uh, what was it?" she asks, a blush blooming on her cheeks. you smile.

"what do you want from me?" you ask. sevika gulps.

"your cunt." she says honestly. you grin.

"i know that, honey, you gotta tell me how you want it." you say as you slowly begin to unbutton her shirt.

she's distracted again, panting like she's run a marathon as she watches your fingers slowly free her chest of her button up. you pull it over her shoulders, then unclasp her bra, freeing her tits. when she still doesn't answer, you flick her nipples. she squeaks and jumps.

"answer my question." you demand. sevika takes a shaky breath and shakes her head to clear it.

"on my mouth." she says. you smile.

"there you go honey, there's my good girl."

the nickname does something to sevika, and suddenly the distracted cloudy look in her eyes vanishes, replaced by pure desperation and lust. you laugh at her.

"gotta tell you though, baby," you continue, "that's a pretty big ask." you tease.

in reality, you're soaked. your clit's throbbing at the prospect of getting sevika's mouth on you, and you'd never deny an opportunity to get head from your girl. sevika knows this, too, or at least, she usually does.

right now, though, she's all subby and sweet and stupid, licking her lips as her big puppy eyes look up at you, waiting for your next command.

"you might have to beg for it." you say.

sevika whimpers, and in her pants, her cock twitches.

you slide off her lap and she pouts at the loss. you take your time laying against the pillows, seductively spreading your still clothed legs, and beckoning sevika forward with a crooked finger.

she scrambles to get between your legs, desperate to be near you again. you laugh and sling your hands over her shoulders, pulling her down for a kiss.

she moans against your mouth, sinking her hips against yours to grind her clothed cock against your cunt. you tug her hair and she whines.

"who said you could do that?" you ask, glaring up at her. she gulps and looks away.

"'m sorry." she whispers. you smirk and press a kiss to her cheek, then shove her away from you.

"get naked." you command. sevika nods and almost falls on her ass with how quickly she scrambles off the bed to pull her pants off. you have to reach out to grab her elbow and steady her as she trips over the legs of her pants, eager to get back to you on the bed.

when she's back between your legs, you can practically see her tail wagging in excitement as she awaits your next command. you smile and lean forward to peck her lips, then pull away to take in her naked form.

her cock's hard and twitching, bumping against her abs each time it pulses. there's a very tempting little bead of pre forming on the tip, and you have to bite your lip to remind yourself that you're the one who's in charge tonight.

"now strip me. but no touching." you say, pointing at her. she nods, then shoots forward to tear at your clothes.

you hear a few seams rip in her hurry, but decide not to chastise her. at this point, you're way too fucking horny to care about your clothes.

in a flash, your naked beneath her, and sevika's licking her lips as her eyes trail up and down your body. you laugh.

"see somethin' you like?" you ask. sevika nods, not taking her eyes off your tits. "wanna touch?" you ask. sevika nods again.

"yes, yes, please." she whispers. you smile.

"where?"

"anywhere." she replies. you laugh.

"gimmie your hands." you demand, reaching out to take her hands into yours. you slowly trail her hands down your sides, until they're on your hips. "keep 'em there." you say. sevika nods so hard a piece of her hair escapes her tiny ponytail, falling into her face. you smile and reach up to tuck it behind her ear.

"there's my baby. my pretty girl." you praise her. you watch in fascination as sevika's hips hump the air and her chest trembles with the shaky breath the words bring out of her. "you like that?" you ask. sevika nods.

"yes." she whispers. her hands are clawing at your hips, her lip between her teeth.

"you still wanna taste me?" you ask.

"yes." sevika says desperately, her eyes snapping back up to yours. you smile.

"beg for it." you say. sevika blinks, then her mouth falls open and the dam breaks.

"please please please lemme taste you. want it so fuckin' bad you look so fuckin' good i need it baby, fuck i need it. please, i promise i'll be good-- i've been good, haven't i?" she asks, her voice wobbly. you smile and cup her cheek.

"you've been so good." you say, nodding. "but i'm gonna need a little more than that."

sevika whines and trembles, and you reach down to play with her tits. "i don't-- what do you-- please!" she whines.

there are tears forming in her eyes, and you decide to take mercy on her.

"go ahead." you say.

sevika doesn't even wait until you finish your sentence to flop down on her stomach between your legs and get her mouth on your cunt.

fuck does she have a good mouth. it's wicked-- she's been touching you for approximately twenty seconds and you're already on the brink of orgasm.

she's messy, especially when she's like this, not caring about the drool leaking from her lips or the cum covering her face, just absolutely devouring your pussy and moaning into it like she's the one getting head.

you tangle your hands in her hair and tug. "slower!" you demand.

sevika whines, but complies, her harsh fast sucks easing, becoming long, languid licks up and down your cunt.

"there you go, baby." you whisper. "good girl."

sevika moans against your cunt, her eyes snapping up to look at your face, begging for more praise. you smile down at her and scratch at her scalp, admiring the way her eyes roll to the back of her head.

"so good sev, so good. 's is all you need, huh? just need some pussy? need me to take charge, let you turn your brain to mush?" you ask. sevika's trying her best to nod against you, her nose bumping your clit with every bob of her head. "you're so perfect. such a hard worker-- fuck like that-- so fuckin' hot in your suits 'n ties... oh god, your mouth, baby. perfect fuckin' mouth."

below you, sevika starts humping against the sheets. you tug her hair harshly.

"cut it out. that cum's mine, you understand?" you ask.

sevika pulls away from your cunt to let out the most delicious, pathetic little whine you've ever heard from her. you grin, then push her face back against your pussy.

"you're so fuckin' cute. 'n you're all mine, aren't you?" you ask. sevika nods again, her nose bumping your clit repeatedly, making you gasp. "fuck, 'm close. 'f you make me cum, i might let you fuck me." you say.

sevika buries her face even further against you at your words, her eyes looking up at you, big and wet and watery, reverent and desperate.

"my perfect girl. my baby. fuckin' love you baby. love you so much. you're mine." you grunt out as your orgasm draws closer. "mine, mine, mine." you continue.

between your legs, sevika's nodding fervently and moaning against your cunt.

she pulls away for just a moment to suck in a gasp and whisper, "yours," before diving back down and sucking your clit into her mouth.

that's all it takes for you, and you cum with a loud gasp. "oh, sevika!" you groan as your orgasm washes over you.

she growls against your cunt, her fingers digging into your hips so hard you're sure she's drawn blood, her hips starting to hump against the bed again.

when you catch your breath and realize what she's doing, you tug her hair harshly and pull her up your body until she's hovering over you.

her face is soaked. there's even some drool or cum in her eyebrows, which makes you chuckle. you reach up to wipe her clean, and she keeps her big, eager eyes on yours the whole time.

"such a good girl." you whisper. sevika lets out a happy little sound and nuzzles against your hand.

"thank you." she says. you smile and pull her down for a kiss, moaning at the taste of your cum on her lips. she hums against you.

between your legs, sevika's cock is poking your thigh, swollen and wet and angry. your stomach clenches.

sevika's seemed to completely forget her own arousal, happy to just cuddle against you, but you haven't. you reach down to grab her ass and laugh at the little squeak it pulls out of her.

"now be a doll and fuck me. 'f you make me cum, i might let you try 'n knock me up. but only if you're good."

sevika's eyes nearly cross in excitement and lust, and she lets out a small whimper as she remembers the lower half of her body.

"really?" she asks, disbelieving, like you've ever denied her an orgasm before. you haven't, you don't have the heart, but it's cute the way she seems to completely forget everything else when she gets like this.

"maybe." you lie.

she nods eagerly and then pries her eyes away from your face to line her cock up with your hole, looking back up at you the second she's got herself situated.

when she pushes in you sigh and sevika whines, collapsing on top of you and burying her face against your shoulder.

"f-fuck!" she whimpers.

you reach up to wrap a hand in her hair, the other wrapping around her back, holding her in a half hug and rubbing in small circles against her as she collects herself on top of you.

"you okay?" you ask, clenching your cunt around her.

"ah!" she squeaks. you laugh evilly.

"i asked you a question." you remind her.

sevika takes a shaky breath. "'m tryin' not to cum." she whispers. you laugh again, wrapping your legs around her hips and squeezing them, pulling her impossibly closer to you.

"now fuck me." you command.

sevika whines against you. "but--"

"fuck. me." you demand.

sevika lets out a shaky whimper against your shoulder as she starts slowly thrusting in and out of your cunt. she starts with shallow little thrusts, teasing you while she tries to collect herself.

eventually, she gets herself under control, and her thrusts get harder, quicker, deeper. you sigh.

"there you go, that's a good girl." you say. sevika grunts against you. "y' always know how to fuck me just right, don't you baby?" you ask. "such a good fuckin' girl for me, so perfect."

sevika sinks her teeth into your shoulder at the praise, trying to keep from cumming at your words. you giggle.

"awe, 're you close?" you tease. sevika whimpers.

"n-no." she lies. you laugh.

"you're a bad liar, babe. can feel your dick throbbin' inside me." you say. sevika whimpers again.

"y' just feel so good." she whines.

"awe, i know. 's like this cunt was made for you, huh?" you ask. sevika whines and nods. "like your cock was made for me." you whisper. sevika nods again. you press a kiss to her hair. "'s all yours, baby. all for you." you say. "and who are you?" you ask.

she pulls away from your neck to stare down at you.

"yours." she whispers. you smile and nod up at her.

"say it again." you say, reaching down to fiddle with your clit.

"yours!" she says, gasping as your cunt starts twitching and clenching around you. "y-yours, momma, all yours. 'm yours." she says.

"oh, baby, i love you." you say.

suddenly, sevika tenses up, her face scrunching and a pathetic little "no!" escaping her lips as she cums inside of you.

you gasp at the sensation, then let out a full belly laugh as sevika buries her head against you, her hips still grinding against you as she fills you with her cum.

"'m sorry." she mumbles. "'m sorry, felt so good, 'm sorry." she says.

you kiss her hair. "keep going." you say.

"wha?" she asks. you tug her hair.

"keep. going." you say. "still gotta make me cum."

"but i--"

"better hurry before you go soft." you say.

sevika's eyes go wide, and she gulps, before she starts fucking you again.

she's whimpering with each thrust, her dick sensitive and overwhelmed, her arms shaky where they hold her up. each time she humps into you, she lets out a sweet little, 'ah!' she's adorable.

you start toying with your clit again, you've been close since she got inside you, but now, with her cum leaking out of you with each thrust and her sweet little over-stimulated whines in your ear, you're on the brink.

"that's it, baby, keep goin'." you encourage her. sevika bites her lip, her brows furrowed as she nods. "you're so perfect. such a good fuckin' girl. so fuckin' cute-- can't even control yourself. cummin' the second you get inside me, you're pathetic. fuck i love you." you ramble as you get closer. above you, sevika's gasping at your words.

"'m sorry." she whimpers, tears gathering in the corners of her eyes from her overstimulated cock.

"don't be sorry. say 'thank you' for letting you fuck me." you demand. sevika nods.

"thank you, thank you, thank you so fuckin' much. feels so good. so warm so wet, fuck, thank you." she grunts.

you cum from her words, your clenching cunt pulling a pathetic, pained wince out of sevika as she collapses on top of you while you fall apart beneath her.

for a few minutes, the two of you just lay together, catching your breath. then, when the stars in your eyes fade and sevika's shuddering breaths even out, you reach down to smack her ass. she jolts against you and giggles.

"you're so perfect." you say. "i love you so fuckin' much, baby."

"lub y' too." sevika mumbles against you, already half asleep. you laugh and push at her shoulders and she groans as she flops onto her back. you crawl on top of her, her cum dripping out of your cunt and onto her abs, and pepper kisses across her face.

sevika giggles like she's high, her whole face scrunched up as you assault her with smooches.

"i love you i love you i love you i love you!" you say between kisses. sevika's giddy beneath you, the cute little gap in her teeth on full display with her grin.

"i love you too." she says. you smile down at her. "thank you." she adds on. your smile turns into a smirk.

"y' don't have to thank me anymore, baby. i should be thanking you." you say. she chuckles.

"i mean thank you for lettin' me turn my brain off. 's nice. you're the only one i can be stupid around, 'n you still take care of me."

you melt, leaning down to press your lips against hers, sighing against her as she wraps her arms around your back.

"i'll always take care of you, y'know?" you ask. sevika nods, sincerely.

"i know."

"i love you." you say. she smiles and reaches up to tug you back down for another kiss.

"i love you too." she mumbles against your lips.

taglist!

@lesbeaniegreenie @fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @ellabslut @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss

[jflemings]

— let the light in [p3]

pairing: jessie fleming x reader part 1, part 2

synopsis: you finally let the light in

warnings: depression, talks of suicide, self sabotage if you squint, feelings of shame

as soon as casey gets in her car, jessie runs back into her flat and grabs her keys and phone. she’s got one shoe on and is halfway out the door when she stops herself and turns around, walking towards the shelf next to her couch. she fingers through the small maple leaf trinket tray until she finds the spare key she had forgotten to give back to you, gripping in tightly in her hand as she slips her other shoe on and walks out the door.

she parks her car on the curb and shields her face from the rain that had started on her drive over, cursing herself for wearing a pair of black canada football shorts when a particularly cold gust of wind flows through her.

jessie walks into your building shivering and clutching your spare key in her right hand. she can feel the teeth on the key digging into her palm as she steps into the elevator and presses the button to your floor. shockwaves of nerves hit her almost rhythmically and she has to wipe her sweaty palms on her jumper.

the elevator door opens and in steps shelley, the old woman pushing her glasses up her nose “jessie!” she exclaims before frowning “you coming to see y/n?”

the canadian half shrugs “hopefully”

shelley smiles and pats jessie’s shoulder “it’s good that you’re here” she says as the elevator moves again, stopping at your floor “she needs ya”

all she can do is swallow the lump in her throat and nod once, walking up to your door and knocking twice. she doesn’t get a response, like she knew she wouldn’t, so she knocks again. and again. and again just the way you hate it so hopefully you get out of bed and answer her.

the door cracks slightly and half of your face peers out “jessie you need to leave” you croak.

“no.” she argues much to your surprise “i talked to casey”

she hears you curse under your breath and places a hand on your door “y/n please” she manages to get out before you go to slam the door in her face. she quickly slots her foot in the door and presses harder “you don’t have to let me in, fuck, you don’t even have to talk to me but at least call and let her know you’re not dead” she says harshly, her eyebrows furrowing when you don’t say anything. “your boss was going to call the police to do a welfare check. casey sent me instead”

“i’m fine”

jessie pushes against the door harder, her foot still slotted between the doorframe and the threshold of you apartment "please" she pleads "all I want to do is help you. that's it"

tears well in your eyes at the thought of jessie seeing the state your apartment is in right now. you look behind you pathetically before shaking your head 'jess-"

"it's okay" she cuts you off quietly "you don't have to feel ashamed about it"

you wipe stray tears with the back of your hand "it's really bad" you mumble "I haven't, uhm, been taking very good care of myself"

the canadian pushes the door a little bit more seeing that you've begun to take your weight off it. her face softens "I'm not here to judge you or to make you feel bad for what you're going through. I just wanna help you get back on your feet"

biting your lip, you finally give in. you hang your head in shame as you let jessie slowly push your front door open and into your mess of an apartment. dread overwhelms you when she doesn’t say anything and just looks around, her eyes scanning each nook and cranny of your space before landing back on you.

you can’t — won’t — look her in the eye, choosing to instead pick at your cuticles as you continue to hold the door open. your grip on the handle tightens until your knuckles are white and you can feel more tears begin to stream down your face.

her hand cradles your face and she wipes her thumb under your eye “look at me” she coaxes, ducking her head ever so slightly “you have nothing to be ashamed of.”

you lip quivers as you nod and she removes her hand from your face, returning them to her sides. you push the door close and lean against it watching she jessie’s hands flex at her side. the two of you stand opposite eachother for a few moments before she reaches for you and you fall into her arms sobbing.

“i-i’m so sorry”

jessie’s hand runs up and down your back “i told you—”

“no i’m sorry for not telling you. i’m sorry for shutting you out” you cry as she places a hand on top of your head “i thought i was doing what was best for you”

jessie stays quiet as sobs wrack your body, tears begin to form in her own eyes at the thought of you putting her first when you were the one that needed help. she was angry, so angry, with herself for letting you do that. for letting you walk out of her apartment that day.

you grip the back of her jumper tightly “i wanted to push you away before… before you realised that i was too hard to love”

“never” jessie says confidently and sternly, pulling you out of her shoulder so she can look at you “never. you are never too hard to love”

“you haven’t seen the worst of it jessie. i don’t eat, i either sleep all day or not at all, my place is a fucking pigsty and i barely have the energy to shower!” you push her hands off frustratedly “does that sound like someone who’s easy to love”

“it sounds like someone who needs some love” she says softly.

you pause and the tension eases from your face. your fingers twitch where they’re holding jessie’s wrist and you look up at your ceiling, blinking away tears.

she takes your hands in her own “c’mon, i’ll run you a hot bath”

you let jessie lead you to your ensuite and cringe at the state of your room but she doesn’t even spare the mess a glance. instead she turns on the bath, finds you a clean towel and some clean clothes and urges you to get in. you get undressed slowly, suddenly feeling very exposed as she grabs the shampoo and conditioner out of your shower.

the water is steaming when you get in and you immediately relax at the comforting feeling. sighing, you duck your head under the water and resurface to find jessie sitting on the ground, one arm leaning on the bath. you turn the tap off once you’re sure the bath is full enough.

“do you want me to wash your hair?”

“yes please”

jessie gets you to turn around and lathers shampoo into your hair, massaging your scalp and dragging the remaining shampoo down to your ends. she then gets you to duck your hair back under the water as she sits up on her knees, looming over you so she can rinse it all out. next, the canadian grabs a comb from under your sink and applies a generous amount of conditioner to your hair, rubbing it in and beginning to gently detangle the knots.

for the most part the room is silent except for the sound the water makes when you move. you close your eyes and allow yourself to be enveloped in the feeling of jessie’s hands running through your hair once again “jess”

jessie hums from behind you, the comb still threading through your ends.

“you- uhm, you saved my life. when we met”

jessie stops momentarily to look over your shoulder at you “what do you mean?”

“i was only at the coffee shop because my machine broke that morning” you sigh, suddenly afraid that you shouldn’t be telling her this. “i had been giving away my stuff for weeks beforehand because i picked out a day to… to end my life”

the canadian stops combing through your hair and you hear the piece of plastic be placed onto the tiles. jessie tucks your wet hair behind your ear and slightly pushes your shoulders so you turn to face her. you cover yourself by bringing your knees to your chest as she leans on the edge of the bath again, urging you to continue.

“i had a note written and the things i had left were organised for when my apartment was going to be cleared out. i had planned to go back to home and take my own life, but then you invited me to sit down and we talked, and you said that you wanted to see me again.” you cock your head, your voice shaky as you continue “and i never told you, swore that i never would, because that’s a lot of responsibility to have, to be the reason that someone didn’t kill themselves and to be honest i don’t even know why i’m telling you this because it’s nothing you actually need to know an—”

“y/n” jessie cuts off your face paced, run-on rambling softly, putting her hand on your knee “breathe”

you take a few deep breaths “i’m sorry. that’s a lot”

“not for me” she whispers “it’s never a lot for me”

“please stop saying never” you whisper breathlessly “that’s a big thing to say”

“i don’t care” she tells you “i’m being honest with you. you have never been to hard to love, or too much. you are the easiest person to love, and there’s nothing i wouldn’t do for you” she pauses to stroke your cheek “except help plan your funeral” she says sadly, swiping under your eyes again “please don’t make me do that for you.”

you nod and hold onto her hand that’s resting on your cheek “i won’t”

jessie places a firm kiss on your forehead and then stands “if you need me i’ll be right outside, okay? i’m gonna shut the door to give you some privacy but just call if you need anything”

“okay” you mumble as she smiles and shuts the door, leaving you to make ripples in the water.

as soon as jessie shuts the bathroom door she’s opening your curtains and stripping your bed. she pulls off the covers and pillow cases and then picks up all the clothes off your floor, stuffing them into the duvet cover before throwing it onto your stopped bed. she takes all the dirty dishes out to the kitchen, setting them down before looking under the sink for your cleaning supplies. retreating back to your bedroom, she makes quick work of wiping down all the surfaces and putting things back where she knows they belong. she sprays, wipes and dusts everything in her sight, not once slowing down.

part of her thinks she’s going so fast because she’s so angry at the world. she’s angry because you are the best person she’s ever met, the love of her life, and the world has let you feel as though you were nothing. the midfielder doesn’t let up her cleaning as she grabs all the rubbish that’s accumulated in your bin, throwing it in a plastic bag near by.

she takes the rubbish out to the kitchen and the duvet of dirty laundry into your small laundry closet before grabbing you some fresh sheets. she makes your bed and fluffs your pillows, only satisfied when it looks perfect. jessie vacuums every inch of floor in your room until she is satisfied, nodding her head once before moving out to the kitchen and living room.

she sets the vacuum aside and loads your dishwasher up, choosing to hand wash whatever dishes don’t fit. anything she can’t scrub clean gets chucked out and she reminds herself to take you shopping to replace it. she fills up another trash bag full of rubbish before she completely unloads your fridge and wipes it down so the lingering smell of off food wont hit you when you open it. when she realises just how much food she’s had to throw out, she pulls out her phone and opens her notes app to start a checklist of things she has to do.

☐ buy new plates

☐ go grocery shopping

☐ new bed sheets

satisfied with her list for the moment, she pockets her phone and moves to the pantry, turning to get retrieve her cleaning cloth when she sees you standing in the hallway. you’re dressed in her chelsea jumper from last season and a pair of black cotton shorts, your damp hair tucked behind your ears as you stare at her wide eyed.

“jessie”

the canadian shakes her head “i told you, i’m here to help. let me help”

“you don’t have to though” you attempt to reason with her, your eyes darting around your suddenly clean kitchen.

jessie rounds the kitchen island to you and grabs your elbow “i want to”

“thank you” you kiss her cheek “i’ll do the pantry”

jessie nods as you open the doors and grab a rubbish bag, cringing as you check the expiry dates on things before tossing them. she grabs the vacuum and does the kitchen floor before doing the rug in your living room, picking up things as she goes and putting them in her rightful place.

she can’t help but spare glances at you as she does. the sight of you clean and up and moving makes her smile slightly knowing that you haven’t been. your cheeks are tear stained and you sniffle every so often, but you continue to clean. you put away the dishes that aren’t in the dishwasher and you throw dirty kitchen towels aside to be washed, you spray and wipe down the benches before tossing another half full bag of rubbish on the pile that’s accumulating by the door.

jessie stops vacuuming in favour of dusting. she does the coffee table, the tv cabinet and the windowsill before moving over to your bookshelf. the trinkets that litter it get cleaned delicately, each and every one not getting put back onto the shelf until jessie is sure they’re free of dust.

she smiles at the things that she got you still being displayed. a picture of the two of you at christmas, a ceramic koala she got you during the world cup, a snow globe that she got from a gift shop in toronto, your polaroid camera and the photo you took of her when you first got it. little items that all played a part in your relationship, each one holding a little story that made up your big one.

the spare key she still hasn’t given back burns a hole in her pocket and she’s suddenly reminded of the fact that the two of you are in fact not together.

a frown flashes across her face before you walk over to her. you tilt your head and adjust the position of the koala slightly before grazing your fingers over the books on your shelf. jessie fishes out the key from her pocket and hands it to you “i forgot to give you this when—” she interrupts herself “before.”

you look between her and the key that she’s trying to give back to you. you pause for a moment before clasping her hand around it “keep it”

“i didn’t come here to try to pressure you into getting back with me” jessie tries to tell you.

“i know but i want you to keep it. it’s yours”

jessie’s heart flutters as she puts the key back in her pocket. you nod you head to the couch and sit down, patting the spot beside you wordlessly. jessie sits next to you and you lace your fingers together.

“it’s hard jess, loving someone with mental illness. it can be really draining” you explain softly “wherever we go from here, that’s up to you. i’m going to have bad days, and sometimes i’m going to get so far in my own head that i can’t pull myself back out” you squeeze her hand and your eyes soften the way they do when you look at jessie.

“i know” she tells you, wearing an identical look to yours “but i’m not fucking around. you are the easiest person to love, and i am more than willing to do it for the rest of my life”

“that’s not something to say lightly jess”

“i know. i’m just being honest” she shrugs slightly “please”

you purse your lips to suppress a smile “okay”

jessie’s face splits into a grin and she kisses your cheek quickly, watching you drown as you roll your eyes and grasp the side of her face. your thumb stokes her cheekbone as you kiss her softly and slowly. it reminds her of the first time you kissed, you saw how nervous she was when dropping you home after your third date and you rolled your eyes and leant over her centre console, grasping her cheek and pausing before letting your lips meet her own softly.

she had gone to bed giddy that night, the butterflies not subsiding even when she went to training the next day.

similarly to then, butterflies erupt in her stomach and flutter all through her insides. “i want you to tell me when you feel like this, even if you think you’ve got it handled. it doesn’t matter if you think it’s too much, all i ask is that you don’t bottle it up”

“i’m going to start seeing my therapist again”

“and that’s good, but i don’t want you walking around thinking you have to do it on your own because you don’t. you’ve never had to” she squeezes your hand and you squeeze hers back just as tight.

“okay” you nod “i promise”

jessie smiles and kisses you again.

“c’mon” you say before standing “the rubbish needs to be put out and then i need to find something that can be eaten for dinner”

“we’ll order in. thai sound good to you?”

your eyes soften “thai sounds great”

[erikahenningsen]

10. regina/janis

10. “I won’t let you.”

This is so not Janis's scene. Which is a weird thing to say, considering she's in Damian's house. But things have changed a lot in the last few months.

When Janis decided to forgive Cady at spring fling, she didn't realize she would be inheriting all of Cady's friends, too—people Janis previously found to be profoundly annoying, but most of whom turned out to be okay.

Still, she really has to ask herself how she ended up here, at a rager thrown by Damian, who has somehow become close with Shane Oman, with three-quarters of the North Shore basketball team, the mathletes, Gretchen Wieners, Karen Shetty, and Regina fucking George.

Janis enjoys a good party, but the combination of the jocks chanting chug, chug, chug and Damian and his theater friends belting out showtunes is giving her a headache.

She's looking for her jacket, ready to head home, when she sees Regina, stumbling a little as she tries to jam her foot into her shoe.

"Untying it first might help," Janis tells her, finally locating her jacket thrown over the banister, buried by three other jackets.

Regina makes an annoyed huff, but she does untie her shoe before finally sliding it in and re-lacing it. When she rights herself, the first thing Janis notices is how she sways a little where she stands, face flushed the way it gets sometimes when she's had too much to drink. (How Janis somehow knows this is beyond her.)

The second is that her car keys are in her hand.

"You're not driving yourself home, are you?" Janis asks cautiously.

"What? Yeah, I am," Regina says, rolling her eyes a little as she reaches for the front door.

Janis maneuvers herself so she's blocking Regina's path. "Slow down there, Justin Timberlake. You're drunk. You can't drive."

"I'm fine," Regina insists, irritation starting to color her voice. "Move."

"No."

"Janis! Get out of my way. I'm leaving," Regina says, drawing out the last word, like Janis is stupid.

Janis shakes her head. "I won't let you."

Regina's eyebrows rise. "You won't let me?"

"Nope," Janis tells her. "You know what it's like to get hit by a reckless driver. You want someone else to experience that?"

This seems to give Regina pause. Janis waits as the gears in her brain turn, slowed by alcohol.

"Ugh, fine," Regina grumbles. Then she pulls out her phone and starts clumsily tapping at the screen.

"What are you doing?" Janis asks.

"Calling an Uber, officer," Regina says.

Janis has no idea what possesses her to say, "I'll drive you home."

Regina blinks at her once, twice. "What?"

"I can drive you," Janis tells her. "I'm heading out anyway, and you're on the way, so..."

It's not that she and Regina aren't friends, but they're not exactly friends, either. They're still figuring out how to navigate that awkward space between being everything and nothing to each other. But this shouldn't be weird, right?

Right.

"Okay," Regina says after a moment. "Don't kill me."

Janis rolls her eyes and opens the front door. "Right. You're more of a do-it-yourself kind of girl."

Janis walks slowly to her car, Regina stumbling after her, walking gingerly on the frozen grass, breath curling like smoke in the winter air.

Janis turns on the car and blasts the heat once they're inside, slowly backing out of the driveway, maneuvering between the cars parked at the curb.

"It's cold in here," Regina complains like a petulant child.

"It'll warm up," Janis replies through gritted teeth. She contemplates making a joke about Regina being a frigid bitch, but decides against it.

"My car has heated seats."

"You can take off a star when you write your review."

Regina tilts her head back against the headrest and sighs. "Are you still seeing Grace?"

The question catches Janis completely off guard. "What?"

"Are you still seeing—"

"I heard you," Janis says. "Um, no, not anymore."

"Hmm," Regina hums contemplatively. "Well, there are lots of other girls out there. You'll find someone."

"You sound like my grandmother."

Regina huffs irritably. "I'm trying to be supportive."

"Yeah, and it's freaking me out, honestly," Janis tells her. If someone had told her even half an hour ago that she'd be talking to Regina about girls in her car, she would have laughed.

"Well, fine," Regina says, crossing her arms. She actually sounds a little hurt. And for some crazy reason, Janis doesn't want to hurt Regina's feelings.

"But, um, thanks," Janis says. "It just didn't work out."

Regina rests her head against the window, breath fogging the glass as she speaks. "You're hot and smart. You'll be okay."

Janis is grateful that she's pulling into Regina's driveway, because her instinct is to slam on the brakes. "What?"

Regina looks at her. She looks exhausted. "What?"

"What did you just say?" Janis needs to hear it again, for some reason.

Regina pauses to think. "You'll be okay."

"No, before—you know what? Never mind." Janis cuts the ignition. "Here you are, Cinderella."

Regina frowns. "Does that make you the pumpkin?"

Janis ignores the question. "Good night."

But Regina doesn't get out. She looks down at her hands, twisted in her lap. "Thanks for driving me home."

"Well, I didn't want to be an accessory to vehicular homicide. I'm applying to colleges, and that would look bad."

"Right," Regina says. She looks at Janis again, searching her face for something.

Janis isn't sure why the air in the car suddenly feels so charged, and it occurs to her that this is the longest she's been alone with Regina since middle school. She has the crazy thought that she's missed Regina, actually.

Finally, Regina pops open her door. "Well, thank you," she says quietly. "Good night."

"Night," Janis echoes, watching Regina disappear into her house.

Janis sits for a few minutes in her car in the driveway, trying to untangle the strange feeling in her stomach. Finally, she turns on her car, resolving to tuck this weird night in the file in the back of her brain labeled times Regina seemed human.

[januaryembrs]

COFFEE SHOP COP | Javier Peña x Younger!Reader

Request: @brekkers-desigirl says - hey i love your work~ i saw that you're taking requests for characters, congratulations by the way<33 and i was wondering if i could have some javier pena fluff? where steve notices that javi is going out a lot and suspects that hes visiting the brothels but in reality hes meeting the reader, who is maybe a university student and cant be seen with javi, so they meet in secret? just like pure fluff please

thank you so much<33 and congrats on almost 1k again!!!

description: Steve is suspicious of Javi when there’s talks of a mole in the embassy. But when he follow him to coffee shop, he’s in for a surprise.

word count: 1.1k

trigger warnings: age gap? Reader is getting a doctorate. Talk of dissection.

main masterlist

Call it part of the job but Steve Murphy was an observant man. Perhaps he was overly suspicious with the amount of leads going dry as soon as they got close, Carillo had put it in his head that there were talks of a Narco Mole in headquarters, had his head spinning for days after he’d heard the news. But surely not Javi? It couldn’t be Javi.

Javi, who had saved his life more times than he could count, who would give his all for his job and asked nothing in return, who had broken bread with his wife, had watched his baby as if she were his own. It couldn’t be Javi.

But how could he explain his odd behaviour?

Peña had been clocking out on the dot for the past three weeks. Not that he held it against the man, except the two workaholics were known for working long hours past what was on their time cards in the interest of cracking the Narco rats sooner. He was usually given a little excuse of he had to call his father or he wanted to grab coffee on his way home before the shop shut. Even his betta fish needed feeding at a very specific time, that one had Steve frowning at least.

This man was a DEA agent and the best lie he could come up with was about betta fish? If that was the case, Colombia was fucked. But on the day he seemed to have a hankering for coffee the fourth night in a row, Steve had decided enough was enough. Slipping his card into the machine to clock himself out of work not even a whole five minutes after Javi left, he trailed after the man down to the parking lot, being sure to hold back a good few paces. Javi would know if he was being followed.

It wasn’t until he’d followed his truck downtown to a coffee shop that the ridiculous nature of what he was doing hit Steve like, well, Javi’s truck. Of course Javi wouldn’t be the mole, Javi would never. Besides, if the best he could come up with was fish then any real secrets surely would have poured out of him by now. Yet here he was, stalking his own best friend as he waltzed out the side of his truck like a boy on christmas.

He felt like an idiot.

Still unable to admit defeat, he pulled up onto the curb a few spaces down, heading out his car and after the man, ready to catch him in the act. Act of what exactly, though? Purchasing a cappuccino? What a crime.

The suspicion was knocked clear out of him however when he saw Javi walk up to a young woman, glasses perched on her nose. He was floored when he watched Javi cup her jaw gently, their lips meeting in a quick but loving kiss before he took a seat opposite her.

His first thought was she was one of his girls from the brothels, except he was quick to notice the textbooks and papers surrounding her, the way her fingernails were stained with ink. She was young, younger than Javi by a decade at least, but it wasn’t until he read the front of the book he felt at least some reprieve from the shock that must have been written on his face, Forensic Medicine and Toxicology, Higher Edition. Doctorate, she was getting her doctorate in medicine.

Smirking to himself that he’d caught Javi in his best kept secret yet, he returned back to his car to see his wife and daughter early for once.

“Long day, baby?” Javi asked, sipping on the edge of his coffee that had started to go lukewarm, despite him bolting his way over here to see you longer. You tucked your hair behind your ear, dog earring the page in your book you were working on, taking the small, china cup in your own hands.

“Had labs to do all morning, and my professor’s been getting on my ass about references.” You sighed, reaching out to squeeze his free hand with your warm fingertips, “I missed you. How was work?”

Javi’s eyes glistened with softness as he watched you, the paper cuts in between your fingers, hair messed from where you’d brushed it away from your face so often. He seemed to snap out of it when he saw you were waiting for a response, shrugging his shoulders a twitch.

“Still just chasing leads- nothing for you to worry about,” He said, bringing your hand up for a peck on your knuckles. Your face heated, his umber eyes following your smile as it settled between your cheeks, “I missed you too. You got classes tomorrow?”

Nodding, you took another sip of your drink, finishing the cup of black liquid, the only thing getting you through this semester. That and Javi ofcourse.

“Got a double lecture in the morning, and then more practicals mid day I gotta prep for,” You said, packing up your books into your bag.

“Nice Lab assistant or mean one?” He asked, taking your bag strap from you almost immediately. He never let you carry your books where he could help with it, the thought of you dragging them around with you in the day was bad enough as it was but seeing you lug around the five, fist width textbooks made his eyes twitch in upset.

“Thanks, honey,” You said, heading out of the coffee shop towards his truck, the passenger seat reserved for you as far as he was concerned, “Mean one. Though, I don’t think I’ll be much more pleasant considering were gonna be harvesting Liver, Spleen and Urine to test for signs of Arsenic,”

Javi grimaced, opening the door for you, helping you step inside with a little pat on your thigh. Gently putting your bag in your lap, he snuck in a quick kiss to your cheek before he shut the door behind you and headed towards the drivers side.

“What’s that face for?” You giggled, your own hand coming out to rest on his jeaned leg as he pulled out of the parking lot.

“It’s a lot of dirty work, your degree,” He said, though his eyes kept flicking back to you from the road, “Not that I don’t think your capable, I just hate to think of you around so much…”

“Blood?” You helped out, and he nodded back, “Javi, I’m fine. The blood is only like half of what I do anyway, it’s the maths that gets messiest,”

Javi shook his, a wry smile on his face as he grabbed your hand in his own, giving your fingertips another kiss.

“You’d give some of the boys at the station a run for their money, sweetheart,”

Taglists;

PERMANENT TAG LIST:

@greeneyedblondie44 @liadamerondjarin @pedrosgirlx @andy-rocks @musicartmayheminmyheart @howlerwolfmax @ciarra–mae @lou-la-lou

Pedro Pascal

@evyiione

Javier Pena

@spideysimpossiblegirl

[genderflu1dwh0r]

"You're an idiot." Veronica sighed softly, sitting next to Heather on the sidewalk edge, she pulled her to lean on her and pressed a cold coke against her eye. "I know." Heather mumbled, letting Veronica take care of her. She and Courtney had gotten into an argument which turned into a fight, which led Heather to getting a black eye and a busted lip. Courtney had the same, but her earring got ripped out and her eyebrow was cut. They were fighting over Courtney calling her a dyke and following her pretty much all-day during school. Once it was the last class, Heather had enough.

Veronica had overheard what happened and had gone over to the Snappy Snack Shack and picked up two cokes and some other snacks, she found Heather on the curb by the school. Heather didn't talk much, just letting Veronica be the one to do so, she was just nervous that Veronica would be upset at her. "I really appreciate you standing up for yourself, but you should've just asked me to handle it, Jason wouldn't mind having a few words with her." Veronica smiled slightly. Heather breathed out a laugh, sighing.

They sat like that for a few minutes before Duke and McNamara showed up, they were carrying their bags. "You okay?" McNamara asked, tilting her head to the side. Heather shrugged, sitting up and taking the coke from Veronica's hand. "My parents won't be fine." She said getting up and wiping off her ass and thighs from the little rocks. Veronica stared at her for a second before getting up and doing the same. "Well, you can stay over with me if you want, I don't think my parents would mind." She said picking up the bag with the snacks in them.

Heather looked at her, nodding. "Alright but let me go home first to get some stuff." She said walking over to the parking lot, she looked over to see Jason getting on his bike and starting it up. He saw her and stared back, trying to figure out what happened. He slowly drove out of the space and up to the girls. "Heard there was a fight, did you win?" He asked, smiling. Heather scoffed, opening her coke. "Take one look at her, you'll know." She said before taking a sip and taking her keys out of her bag. Jason nodded, looking over at Veronica. "Did you see the fight?" He asked, slowly walking his bike with them.

Veronica shook her head, pointing at the other girls. "Did you see what happened?" She asked them, Duke nodded. "I saw the aftermath, but not anything during." She said opening the back door of Heather's car. McNamara went to the other side and opened the door. "I didn't see anything, except when Courtney ran off with blood going down her neck and eyebrow." She said getting into the car. Jason nodded, watching all the girls get into the car. "Alright, well, take care." He said before pulling out of the parking lot and driving down the road.

[bellysoupset]

I just reread your fic were Jonah had a vertigo episode and Vince told him he was dating Wendy.

I just love Jonah and his friendships with both Vince and Wendy so much.

So I'd like to request Jonah taking care of either Vince or Wendy.

!!! This ask made all my braincells dance, I never got a request for Jonah x Vince's brotp, so I just had to rush and write it. Someone else asked for concussed Vin so... The best of both worlds. This is a part 1

-------

Jonah drummed his fingers against the steering wheel, trying to quell the anxiety and annoyance inside of him. He still wasn't quite convinced this wasn't a prank.

Concern stirred in his chest and Jonah pressed the gas pedal a little harder. He'd be furious, but he'd rather this was a prank, actually.

It wasn't rare for Vince to text him. Their conversation was mostly unilateral, with Vin bombarding his instagram DMs with memes, messages that Jonah rarely reacted to aside from one snippy line here and there, but that he treasured a lot. When Vince went radio silent in their non reciprocal chat, Jonah worried.

It was, however, very unusual for Vince to call him. When they went on double or triple dates, it was Wendy doing the calling, never Vin.

So Jonah had been dumbfounded when his phone had rang in the middle of the day, Vince's name displayed across the screen.

He glanced at the map on his GPS, then scanned the deserted road, as if he'd see Vince- As soon as he turned the next exit, Jonah's stomach dropped to his feet.

Sadly it hadn't been a prank.

There was a tree fallen on one side of the deserted, middle of nowhere road, tire marks on the wet tarmac and then Vince, sitting on the curb, with his motorcycle fallen a couple feet away from him.

Jonah parked the car hastily, jumping out and power walking to his friend, "What the hell happened?"

Vince looked up from the ground, squinting at him, "uhm- Car, lost control-" he was slurring, gesturing to the site of the accident, "hit me straight on."

"Where is the bloody car right now?" Jonah seethed, crouching down to get a good look at Vince's face. He wasn't wearing the helmet anymore, it was on the ground near his boots. His face was milky white, a hard frown in the middle of his brows making Vince look quite intimidating.

"Drove off..." Vin rubbed his neck, then met his eyes and Jonah's anger all but doubled. Some jerk had hit his friend and simply driven off? "I'm sorry... I-"

"Shut up," Jonah rolled his eyes, leaning in to plant his fingers on Vince's vitals, "how hurt are you?"

"Not sure," Vin mumbled, shifting uncomfortably as Jonah explored his neck in search of bruises, personal space be damned, "my side hurts."

"Lean back, lift up your shirt," Jonah bossed and expected a cheeky Vince-esque remark in return. An at-least-buy-me-dinner-first line or even I'm-telling-Leo. Instead he got sullen silence and obedience, which only made him all the more worried.

Vince gingerly unzipped his jacket, then attempted to pull up his shirt, but he didn't get very far. His grip on the fabric was weak and his arm didn't seem to be cooperating. Jonah mentally made a note to check his shoulders, then slapped Vince's hand away and pushed the shirt up.

There was a nasty cut, covering all of Vince's left side, starting a couple inches under his armpit and going all the way near his belly button, surrounded by scrapes and scratches. It wasn't deep, otherwise he'd probably be bleeding out, but it was ugly nonetheless. The blood had already clotted over.

"Shit, Vince," Jonah frowned, leaning in to inspect the wound, "I think this need stitches..."

"Uhm, are you sure?" Vince blinked heavily, "can't you just- I don't know, band-aid it?"

Jonah stared at him, unimpressed, "You're a piece of work," he scoffed, then pushed the shirt back down, "what else hurts?"

"My foot," Vince gestured his left foot, "I think I broke it."

"And you didn't start by saying that?!" Jonah raised his eyebrows, sitting back on his heels to undo Vince's boot and carefully remove it. His foot was swollen alright and purple around the ankle, but once Jonah poked him on the sole, the toes all curled in reflex, "I don't think it's broken, but you definitely need an x-ray to check for hairline fractures or any torn ligaments- In fact, I think you need a whole body check up, Vin."

"I'm fine," Vince groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. He had scratches all over his chin, dried blood where his eyebrow had split open, "I just wanna go home. Can you drive me home?"

Absolutely not, Jonah thought, but instead he nodded, "sure, I'll drive you home," he lied with an eyeroll, barely keeping the sarcasm from his voice, "you didn't happen to get the asshole's car plate, did you?"

"Nope," Vince seemed completely drained, "can you not tell Wendy? At least until later."

Wendy was in NYC, visiting her family, so Jonah shrugged. He wouldn't be talking with her until tomorrow, "okay... Put your arm around my neck, c'mon."

Between the wounded foot, the nasty gash on his side, the probably dislocated shoulder and the fact that Vince was fucking 6'4, it was a hassle to get him up and limping to the car.

Jonah was sweating and panting by the time he got Vince sitting down again. This would've been easier if Luke was here... Jon pushed the thought aside almost with a scowl. He hadn't called Lucas and he figured there was a reason why Vince had called him instead of his siamese twin.

"Jon," Vince leaned his head heavily against the inside of the car, near the door, "can we go?"

"Hold on a second, let me just get some pictures of your bike," Jonah squeezed his shoulder, "hang in there, don't fall off the car."

Vince's bike was in a surprisingly decent shape. The were some parts from the front scattered around the ground and the front tire had been slashed open- Jonah shuddered as he pictured just how the bike had gotten that way, Vince being catapulted out of it. He snapped a couple pictures, jolting down the license plate and then rushed back to the car.

"Be honest with me, were you speeding?" Jonah asked, as he put the seatbelt around Vince, wincing in sympathy as he felt his friend recoil when the wrap hit his wounded side.

"No," Vin leaned his head back, breathing through his mouth, "no... Raining..." he mumbled, as if that explained everything.

"Okay..." Jonah started the car, glancing nervously at the man lying right next to him, "hey, don't pass out," he poked Vince's thigh five minutes later, as he noticed him sliding down the seat, "I need you to stay awake, you could be concussed."

"Not concussed," Vince groaned, sitting up straight once again, "just in pain."

"Where?" It was a dumb question and Vince could say everywhere and it'd probably count as an accurate answer, but Jonah wanted him to keep talking. For once he missed the incessant chatting.

"Side," he answered quietly, "fuck, my bike..."

"I'm gonna call someone to tow it, it's okay," Jonah rolled his eyes, starting the windshield wiper as the rain started back up. He noticed Vince's teeth chattering, "are you cold?"

"Uhm..." Vin nodded, then leaned forward, resting his forehead on the dashboard, one hand resting on his stomach, "don't feel well, Jon..."

"Not concussed, uh?" Jon scoffed, already pulling the car to the side of the road. He reached over Vince when the man didn't move and unlocked the door, undoing his seatbelt, "c'mon, Vin, don't be an ass, puke out of the car."

Vince obeyed silently, making Jonah feel just a touch more concerned. He hated that his bantering wasn't getting an answer, it was widely out of character.

Vin hung his torso out of the car, bracing heavily against the door and let out a weak heave, followed by a pained gasp, "hurtssss..."

Frowning, Jonah planted a hand on his shoulder to keep Vince from falling off the car and then moved the other one down his spine. His leather jacket had been slashed clean through, something he hadn't noticed before. Vince heaved again, a delicate gagging that was so unlike him, followed by a whimper. Jonah drummed his fingers gently over his wounded side and then pulled his hand back as he met a weird poking under the skin.

"Goddamit, Vince, I think you have a broken rib," that would explain why he was struggling to even vomit without crying from pain.

There was a noise from his friend, followed by yet another retch and then Vince was choking on the liquid, vomit rushing out of his mouth and splashing on the road.

Jonah's stomach churned with sympathy and he squeezed his hand on Vince's shoulder, turning his face away and trying to tune the awful noise out.

Vince heaved again, whole body convulsing with the pain, and Jonah ducked his head, not bothering to muffle his own wet belch. He could taste his lunch all over again.

"Sssorry..." Vince groaned, from his right, before coughing once again and heaving loudly, the noise much louder now. Jonah heard, distinctively, as he emptied out the last of his stomach contents and was reduced to a mess of dry heaves and sobs from the pain.

He straightened up, sniffling and wiping the tears from his cheek, "sorry, Jon-"

Jonah ignored him, flinging his own door opened and bracing against it as he belched again, his lunch threatening to leap to his throat. He swallowed convulsively, gagged and then thumped his chest to dislodge one sick burp, spitting all the thick saliva on the road under. Stomach more or less settled, Jonah straightened up, daring to look at Vince.

He felt beyond humiliated. It was such a pathetic display, to be unable to help his loved ones when they got sick because his own stomach was too weak, "I'm sorry," he grumbled, voice rough and thick.

"I'm so-"

"You look awful," Jonah interrupted, choosing to do this instead of telling him to shut the fuck up and stop apologizing for daring to be sick with a probable concussion, "Vin, I'm taking you to the hospital."

Vince frowned, shaking his head, "I'm fine, really-"

"You have a broken rib, for sure. A sprained ankle at best. That wound is gonna need at least 50 stitches. I'm pretty sure you're concussed and fuck - who knows what else," Jonah glared at him, enumerating the injuries on his fingers, "I'm driving you to the hospital."

"It's gonna cost my right arm and for what? For broken ribs they only tell you to rest and take painkillers. I'm not concussed, I know how a concussion feels like. My foot they'll also just tell me to not walk around and let it heal. I don't need stitches, I'm not even bleeding anymore," Vince said, sounding annoyed and glaring at Jonah, "I thought you wouldn't make a fuss."

Jonah's glare took a steely turn, as he realized Vince had called him specifically because Lucas would've been frantic and probably called an ambulance. It was insulting, "Fuck you," Jonah scoffed, "Did you think I'd find you all mangled and just be like here, I'll drive you to the dorms so you can have internal hemorrhage in the middle of the night? Just because I'm not Lucas? Go fuck yourself Vince," Jonah spat out, slamming his own door shut and starting the car back again.

A heavy silence fell upon them. Jonah stubbornly ignored it, seething with anger. From the corner of his eye he could see Vince looking away from him, a pained frown on, the closest he could get to pouting in this much pain.

It went on for good fifteen minutes, until Vince broke it by mumbling a small, rough "I'm sorry. That was stupid of me."

"Uhm," was all Jonah answered, still just as furious.

He squeezed the steering wheel between his fingers, with much more force than necessary, and rolled his shoulders. The ugliest part of him wanted to yell at Vince a little bit more, bitterness coating the inside of his mouth.

"Jon," Vince interrupted his spiraling angry thoughts and Jonah pointedly ignored him.

"Jonah," Vince said a bit more strongly and Jon sighed, looking away from the road.

"What? If you'll try to get me to not dri-"

"Pull over," Vince groaned, a hand clasped tightly over his mouth, "now, Jon."

Jonah cursed under his breath, they were no longer in an empty road, but close to the hospital and it wasn't as easy to pull over so soon, "hold on, hold on-" he chanted, signaling the need to stop and scanning the crowded street for a spot.

Next to him, Vince let out a gag, hunching over further.

A car pulled out in front of a store and Jonah rushed to take it's spot. It was a tight fit, but-

Vince gagged again and then Jon heard a whine as liquid splashed on his hand and lap, "fuck-"

Jon pressed his eyes closed, the car coming to a swift stop, but clearly he was too late. He breathed in deeply, forcing himself to be on check as he turned to his friend, to assess the mess... "fuck, Vince."

Vince hadn't quite made a mess, because he hadn't puked actual vomit. Instead there was bright blood in his hand.

"I... This can't be good, right?" Vince's voice was shaking and Jonah shook his head no.

"No, it's not," he agreed, noticing Vince's eyes the size of platters, clearly mortified, "c'mon, let's get you checked up."

Jonah couldn't remember if he had ever seen Vince be scared before. Even when he had been severely dehydrated, almost a year ago he had been more annoyed and out of it than scared.

Now he was very awake and aware of everything, much to Jon's dismay. He couldn't help his own sympathetic wince as Vince got transferred from his car to the emergency bed, the paramedics grumbling about Jonah driving him there in the first place instead of calling an ambulance.

He busied himself with getting Vince's bike picked up and then sat on the waiting room, hating to be on the opposite side of the hospital experience for once.

His phone buzzed and Jonah glanced at it nervously, half expecting it to be Wendy miraculously knowing the hell had happened. Instead it was Leo.

Leo: I thought you said you had the day off today? Court ended early and you're not here 🥺

Jonah breathed out, ignoring the prickles of anxiety running up his arm and typed back "I'm at the hospital. Vin got in a car accident."

He saw Leo type and retype, the little bubble appearing and disappearing multiple times, before the screen suddenly changed into the call mode.

"Hey-"

"What happened? How is he!?" Leo's voice was up a whole note, "how did you-"

"He called me, I think two hours ago? He seemed a little in shock, but overall very aware. Sent me his location and everything," Jonah answered, sliding down the seat and staring at the ceiling, "I think the rain caused him or someone to lose control, but either way, they hit his bike head on and then ran."

"What the fuck-"

"He's in x-ray right now. For sure at least one rib is broken, maybe his left foot too. Something is up with his shoulder, I couldn't quite see... Oh yeah and there's this big fucking wound on his side. He's gonna get stitched up after the x-ray and MRI."

"MRI?" Leo said and Jonah could hear him moving around, "did he hit his head?"

"He says he didn't, but he flew off his bike, so," Jonah rolled his eyes, "the idiot didn't want to come to the hospital."

"Sounds like Vince alright," Leo let out a weak chuckle, "you're bringing him here, right?"

Jonah hesitated, thinking back on the fact he had told Vince to go fuck himself, "uh-"

"He can't stay alone in the dorms," Leo cut in, "Wendy's out of town and he called you. You're bringing him here, even if you have to drag him."

"Yes, sir," Jonah teased lightly, opening a smile, "...Don't tell Luke? Or Wendy?"

"I don't talk with Wendy," Leo pointed out with a huff, "...Do you need anything? A coat? Food?"

"What...?" Jonah frowned, "no, you don't have to come over. We're fine, he'll probably be out in an hour or two, unless they want him to spend the night in case of a concussion."

"Vince would rather die," Leo pointed out with a little snicker, "... Are you okay? You sound shaken up."

"I'm fine..." Jonah mumbled, "just worried."

"Aw, he cares," Leo teased lightly, "I won't tell anyone, I promise."

Jon let out a smile, but Leo's teasing had only made him feel worse. He nodded, before remembering his boyfriend couldn't see him, "yeah, of course he will," he agreed, "I gotta go. I'll text you later. Love you."

"Love-" Jonah hung up before he heard the end of it, getting up from his seat and walking to the folding doors that lead to the closed part of the hospital, pacing around it anxiously.

It was another hour and a half before a girl he knew from class stepped out, "Vicent- Monacelli...?"

"Vicenzo," Jonah corrected, stepping forward, "hi Claire."

"Oh, hi Jonah," she smiled, "you're the one who brought him in?"

"Yeah... How is he?" he couldn't be bothered to hide the nervousness. He hadn't mentioned to Leo the coughing up blood, but that had been driving him insane with worry.

"He's fine," Claire tapped her clipboard with a pen, "giving the nurses a run for their money, he keeps trying to leave. Let's talk inside."

Vince hadn't been transferred to a private room, which Jonah counted as a sign he wouldn't need to stay the night. He was leaning back on a long armchair, with an IV connected to his arm, an angry frown on his face. His foot had been put in a boot cast, his shirt removed and his arm was now resting on a sling. A long bandage on his side, covered also by the bandages wrapping around his torso. A million butterfly bandages were scattered all over him.

"I thought you had left," Vince piped up, opening a lopsided smile, "can you tell the nice doctor I can go home?"

"No," Jonah rolled his eyes, looking at Claire, "doctor?"

"Alright, so let's start from the least worrying. You have a dislocated shoulder-"

"It happens all the time," Vince interjected, to which the doctor and Jonah ignored him.

"we've put it back in place and you're supposed to wear the sling and avoid moving your shoulder as much as possible for the next six weeks."

"That's crazy, six weeks?! Classes will start back up, it's my final season-"

"What else?" Jon pinched his nose bridge.

"Left foot is just twisted, but twisted badly. Three weeks of boot," she glared at Vince pointedly, "otherwise you will break it, then it'll be much longer. And you won't play your precious football game."

"It's a twisted ankle, please," Vince scoffed, "I've sported worse injuries during a game-"

"What about his ribs?" Jonah squeezed Vince's bicep to shut him up. Claire crisped her lips in annoyance and Jon almost laughed. Clearly Vince was not growing on the hospital staff.

"One broken rib, one cracked. Four weeks of bed rest and four more of little to no movement," she sighed, "I'm serious, Mr. Monacelli, if you don't rest, you'll end up breaking the one that is cracked and that one has a very bad angle to your lungs. Don't try your luck."

Vince grumbled something in italian, but nodded, wincing as he shifted on his seat, "she says I don't have a concussion, by the way."

Jonah scoffed, then looked at the blonde doctor before him, "really?"

"We ran all the scans, Jon, he's fine," Claire nodded and Jonah almost laughed as he could see she was holding back a mean comment, "Our best guess is the vomiting was due to the pain and shock."

"And the coughing up blood? His lungs are alright?"

"Yes. The blood was actually from a tear inside his mouth, he probably bit down when he hit the ground and the stomach acid irritated the wound," she opened a small smile, "as long as you rest and take the medication correctly, you should be fine, Mr. Monacelli."

"Alright," Vince nodded, then grabbed the IV pole to hoist himself up, "so I can go home?"

Claire mulled over the answer, looking conflicted. Jonah knew that technically, with those injuries, they couldn't hold him overnight, no matter how much it looked like Vince was just gonna ignore all doctor orders.

"He's coming with me," Jonah piped up, "I'll make sure he rests."

"The hell I am!" Vince whined, "I have my own dorm-"

"You're coming with me whether you want it or not," Jonah glared at him, "or you can stay the night here."

"They can't hold me here," Vince scoffed, then frowned and looked at the doctor, "you can't, right?"

Jonah grimaced and Claire clearly understood, because she shrugged, "if we think you're a danger to yourself, we can," she lied.

Vince's face fell and he sighed, sitting back down, "fine," he said, as if he had any choice on the matter. Jonah let out a relieved sigh.

Signing Vince out was easy enough, at least when compared to once again getting him to hop back to the car, since he vehemently refused using a wheelchair, much to everyone's displeasure.

"I don't think you realize you're a giant," Jonah panted as he pushed the passenger seat as far back as his sport car allowed and gave up on using the seatbelt.

"Uhm..." Vince let out a defeated sigh, leaning back against the leather seat, "I'm useless."

"You're hurt," Jonah reminded him with an eyeroll, "look... I- I'm sorry I yelled at you-"

"No," Vince sighed, "no, you were right... I was a jerk. Can we just go? Everything hurts."

"Your drugged, Vin," Jonah snorted, circling the car to get in the driver's side, "I doubt you can feel your face right now."

"I can and it hurts," Vince groaned, then closed his eyes as the movement started back up, "are you sure you don't mind me being at your place...? I can call-"

"If you say Lucas I'll leave you on the side of the road," Jonah slapped his friend's thigh, causing Vince to jerk and let out a whine.

"Fine, whatever," Vince smiled, eyes still closed, "...Told you I didn't have a concussion."

TBC

[notedchampagne]

hi i saw you asked for some driving advice about overcorrecting turns? you have my condolences because three times this month i've underestimated a turn and hit the curb. would you teach me your ways SAM i'm gonna pop a sidewall

i live in midwestern usa so i can't speak for the road quality in other places, but i learned by this to stay centered in my lane without going out of it: when you look ahead of you down the middle of most roads, there's usually a different-colored space in the middle of your lane than on the sides of your lane, due to the tire traffic and oil drips and whatever. if you try to aim your car down the line, either by aiming your tires on the outer space or by aiming your body/car at the middle line, i've found i can stay centered pretty well.

As for following a turn properly, the anon who said to slow down before you reach it and accelerate out of the curve is right, the physics behind it is that when you're accelerating there's actually power going to your wheels, as opposed to when you're braking you have no power going to the wheels and don't have as much control. so slowing down before is always safer and gives you more control over the turn.

Jeez now that i'm thinking about it i've forgotten literally everything i know about driving (and i'll forget the moment i send this lbr 💀). My best advice is to, especially when you're in the passenger seat and can watch without having to think about driving, watch and follow the cars in front of yours, watch your driver, see when they start turning and how sharply they do. (When in doubt, slow down, it doesn't hurt anyone and you have more reaction time when you're going slow. i promise the worst that can happen is the people behind you may get annoyed, and they can go eat gravel.) if you live somewhere you can practice going around a block or a bunch of turns without much traffic to interfere with you, go for it, practice always makes driving better for me (though i still not have survived the horrors of parallel parking, and i've been driving for years now).

Hope this helps!! and if it makes you feel better about i couldn't escape the Roundabouts from Hell and nearly drove up the wrong way of a highway exit ramp (i now plan all my trips through the area to take detours around that specific roundabout because i hate it so goddamn much)

yesss so far ive been mostly ok with being in the middle of the road - the further i look out into the distance the better i center myself and then i use the side mirrors to glance- but with turning its just. blagh. i hate the notion of using the wheel to control your curve when youre going 50 mph so i UNDERSTAND slowing down. its just a bitch when you have the pressure of the highway

i almost hit the inner curb a few times as well but successfully avoided it, mainly just in that i grant myself a little extra padding space on the side to be safe

[loftwingsuarus]

tl:dr Citra beats up a dude. takes place in the au where they fake their death or whatever

~~~

Citra and a stranger are yelling at each other in the parking lot, and when Rowan walks out the store outlets, he thinks: oh no. Citra rolls up her sleeves. Rowan puffs out a breath and does the silly little jog that people do when crossing a busy street. God knows Citra's about to send this clown to a revival center. Rowan grabs her arm before she can start swinging.

"Whoa whoa whoa, Citra-" she pushes him off and glares at the man.

"Don't fucking talk to me like that!" she spits. They're still going on.

"This your girl?" the stranger asks. "Because she's talking crazy dude-"

"You didn't see the way he was screaming at me!" Citra shouts. Rowan did, in fact, see the way he was screaming at her. He did not like it.

"Okay okay, hold on, let me handle this, okay?" Between the two of them, there's no pacifists, but Rowan doesn't straight-up prefer violence. Citra huffs, but she lets him. If only because she usually gets her way in the end.

Some tall guys are gangly. They gangle or whatever. Rowan does not. He looks like he benches your ass at the gym. He walks into the stranger's personal space, and then keeps going. The stranger backs up two steps for every one that Rowan takes. This guy is not built enough to be picking fights with ex-scythes- not that he knows they are. He's not built enough to be picking fights with anyone, actually.

"First off, she was talking crazy-"

"Nope, don't wanna hear it," Rowan says, "You can apologize-"

"I'm not apologizing! Your girl is a psycho-"

"No, shut up, don't care. You can either apologize, or you can fight her."

"Seriously? You're not going to fight me?" he asks. That throws Rowan for a loop. He looks at the man like he is an imbecile.

"Nah. She wants the smoke, she got it."

"Come on, man," he says, throwing his hand up, "I feel bad beating down on a girl."

"Right, but you didn't feel bad cursing her out earlier?"

"Dude, she was acting like a psycho-"

Rowan suddenly gets an idea of who exactly this person is and why they singled out Citra. He really hates this guy. He's not about to go defending Citra's honor, but Rowan has changed his mind about letting her curb stomp him.

"Yeah? Well I'm about to feel bad seeing my girl beat down on you," he replies, which isn't true. He's going to enjoy it immensely.

At that, the man starts fuming. His face turns so red, Rowan thinks he'll start boiling like a kettle.

"I fucking warned you," he tells Rowan before he stalks off. Rowan continues giving him a blank stare.

The man strides up to Citra, who is standing with her arms crossed and her hair tied up. He throws the weakest punch of all time. For a split second, Rowan thinks to himself: Holy shit. He actually thinks Citra is weak because she's a woman.

Citra dodges the world's weakest hit with minimal effort. She grabs his arm with both hands. All she does is hold it, and his own momentum dislocates his shoulder.

"AAH!"

Not feeling particularly merciful, Citra proceeds to throw him against the curb by the dislocated arm. It's like a scene straight out of the UFC when she slams the whole weight of her body into his back. It sounds like a kid breaking pencils in class. His spine is shattered and his ego is devastated.

Rowan comes up with his hands in his pockets.

"Damn, I just wanted to get lunch," he says. "Are we good now?"

The man is still groaning in pain. The Thunderhead, ever silent nowadays, probably dispatches an ambudrone, but doesn’t do much else. People are alternating between staring and scurrying away from whatever the hell just happened in front of them. Citra does arm stretches like she's warming up for a run.

"Oh, we're good." She rolls her neck. "We're even.” She takes Rowan by the arm and they walk off.

[luveline]

𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲, 𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐞 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary it's a hot summer in hawkins and you're bored. plus, your best friend eddie is very distracting. it was inevitable, really, that you'd end up messing around [4.6k]

warnings smut, 18+ only please, fem!reader, p in v sex, oral both receiving, awkward giggly best friend sex <3, fluff, clueless idiots, weird stains etc, eddie being hot and soft, less awkward more giggly part 2

𓆩❤︎𓆪

The midsummer sun toasts the back of your neck as you walk through the trailer park. By the time you're knocking at Eddie's door you feel frazzled by the heat, ducking under his arm and into the shade gratefully when he swings open the door.

"Hey, babe," your best friend says, a hint of derision in his tone.

"Yeah, hi," you say.

You beeline past the couch to the fridge, kicking open the stiff freezer door for something cold to hold to your cheek. "It's, like, a thousand degrees outside," you say, garden peas soothing your sweaty forehead.

"It wasn't much better in here 'til I opened all the windows," he agrees. "If you told me you were coming I would've picked you up."

You raise your eyebrows, laughing. "Yeah, I'm never getting in that thing again."

"It wasn't that bad."

"You almost killed us-"

"I jumped a curb," he cuts you off, waving his hand at you. "You're ridiculous."

Eddie rolls his eyes at you and you roll yours harder, following him down the narrow space into his bedroom. Even the window thrown open can't hide the smell of pot and cheap beer, though you're pleased to see he's changed his sheets. You sit down carefully, worried to disturb the notebook on his bed.

"What were you upto?" you ask, lying back.

Eddie stretches. One arm behind his back and the other pushing his elbow down, a loud click echos. His shirt rides up, a snaking snail trail of dark hair exposed.

You don't shy from looking though you won't ogle him. Your best friend has always been hot in the grungey way he is, long hair and big eyes, cool clothes, tattoos and Marlboro's and everything that had ostracised him from your peers.

You'd ended up friends because you hadn't always been attractive. In fact, you'd suffered through an awkward stage for the entirety of high school, and only now two years after your graduation do you feel any type of hot or desirable. Eddie, soft-hearted, loser weirdo Eddie has never been anything but ridiculously kind to you.

You pull up your jeans where they're slipping down, tugging your shirt from your lightly perspiring chest with a dramatic huff to fan yourself.

"I was trying to make music," he says with usual bravado, throwing himself down behind the composition book. He tucks the pen between its curling pages and shoves it across the nightstand. "But it wasn't going anywhere."

"No?" you ask, moaning under your breath as you move the frozen peas to your chest.

Eddie clears his throat. "Nah. Now you're here, anyway. Like you knew I was bored to tears."

"I'm psychic," you agree.

"Major. Summer is so fucking boring," he says.

You smile at him, turning on your cheek to take in his casual attire, his grey sweatpants and his too short shirt. He's missing his rings but his chains remain, dull silver against his white skin.

"You could study," you say lightly. "You know. Actually graduate."

Eddie smiles at you sweetly. You glare at his condescension. "They're making me do the year again, therfore making me take the classes again. I don't need to study."

You want to laugh. He does need to study, he does, but you know the difficulty doesn't lie in laziness or anything, he just has a difficult time concentrating. Every year you offer to informally tutor him and every year he declines, but not this year. You're gonna get him through high school if it's the last thing you do. And it might be, with this heat.

"We are gonna study," you say sternly. "Not today, though."

"Not today," he agrees, laughing.

He crosses his arms, hands hugging his biceps as he leans towards you. You watch his actions carefully though he's not planning any mischief, only looking down at you.

"Your eyes are all smudged up," he says.

You sigh with frustration and loll your head back. "It's 'cos it's so hot. I'm gonna freshen up," you say, standing, offering him your defrosting bag of peas.

He's not looking at the peas, you realise, but your chest. You follow his gaze, watching as a cold rivulet of melted ice runs between the valley of your boobs.

You don't comment on his watching as you leave the room. You don't really care if he looks at you like that because you know he doesn't mean anything disrespectful by it, the way your eyes tend to drift to his hands, his wrists and their stark green veins. Some things are distracting.

You clean up in the bathroom, your face, your sweaty body, sniffling from the heat. You can't stay in there long.

"It's a fucking sauna in there," you say as you emerge.

Eddie has changed positions, his legs crossed with a pillow in his lap, the stereo remote in his hands. His bracelet has fallen down from his wrist, stopped at the curve of his forearm.

You look away. Distracting, you think.

He gestures at the window, wide open, curtains blowing in the breeze. "That's how hot it was when I woke up."

You settle down next to him against the wall, box springs groaning beneath you. This close you can smell his green apple shampoo.

"You're not wearing any cologne?" you ask.

He smiles smugly. "You're sniffing me."

"You smell like shampoo," you say instead of denying it.

"Showered this morning."

You gasp and cover your mouth with your hand. "No fucking way."

"Get fucked, Y/N," he says, chuckling.

Maybe it's on your mind. Maybe it's the sheer level of comfort you feel with him, you don't know, but you fall silent at his words and drop your head into his shoulder. You spend long minutes at his side, listening to his humming, wondering what you're going to do all summer. You make a questioning sound.

He pulls it out from under you and only puts it back when you don't laugh. "What?"

You look up at him and then quickly look back down.

"What does that look mean?"

You don't decide what you're going to say so much as you feel it, the words escaping you before you can think any better of it. "Do you want to have sex?"

Eddie laughs, a nervous lilt of sound that bubbles up and hurts your feelings. You pick at your nails and he leaps to ask, "What? You're serious?"

"It's fine if you don't want to."

He waits for you to say more. When you don't, he raises his eyebrows at you. "I never said that."

You decide to be cool about it, shrugging your shoulders like this is an obvious, regular suggestion. "We're both bored. I don't know. It could be fun."

"Are you sure that's something you want?"

"You're hot."

"Thank you," he says sincerely, "but what I mean is, is that something you think we can deal with? It changes our whole dynamic." His words have that similar too-casual tone, the both of you trying to be cool.

"Doesn't have to," you argue with little heat, looking up at him from his shoulder with wide eyes.

"You don't think so?" he asks. His voice is quieter now, and he's looking down at you with a heat that quickly gives you butterflies.

"No," you say under your breath. You lick your lips and say, slightly louder, "No. It can just be fun. If it sucks we'll never do it again, and you can stop wondering what my tits look like."

"I don't wonder about that," he denies quickly, guiltily, giving himself away when his eyes flick down to your chest and dart straight back up.

"So you don't want to find out?"

He bites his lip. You wait, tilting your head just slightly and giving him your best approximation of the doe eyes girls do in movies. "It's fine if you don't want to, Eddie," you say honestly.

"I do want to."

"Yeah?"

"If it's just for fun, right? What else is there to do?" He asks, shrugging his shoulders.

You grin. This is how you find yourself kneeling in the middle of his bed as Eddie pulls the curtains closed and locks his door, your eyes following the dark mess of his curls as he tucks them behind his ears, the way his arms shift as he turns the light off now the sunlight's hidden. He pauses before he turns to you, hand held to the light switch.

You start to take your shirt off. He hears the noise and spins on his heel. Warm, worn shirt in hand, you try not to show how nervous you are as your chest settles, bared in your bra alone.

Eddie blinks. You laugh nervously and he laughs back, wavering at the end of his bed.

"You're fucking pretty," he says.

"Don't lie," you say, though you know he feels like that's true, an earnestness in his voice that shoots sparks straight down to your core. You move off of your calves and squirm onto your back. "Help me take these off," you say. Before I lose my nerve.

Eddie pulls your legs towards him with surprising strength, knocking your hands away from where they're struggling with the button on your jeans. You can't help the sound you make, a hiccup of air has he undoes the button. His fingers are warm at your waist and as they drag down your hips. You arch your back so he can work them over your thighs, one socked foot pressed to his chest. You give him a smug look, as if to say, yeah, you do that.

Ever amused with you he huffs a laugh and pulls your jeans off in one big sweep, discarding them in a  crumpled heap on the ground.

You're surprised at the lack of talking between you and aim to rectify it as he climbs onto the mattress and crawls up between your legs like he knows what he's doing, pulling your thighs over his.

"This is so weird," you say. "Right? This is weird."

His hands burn where they're spread over your thighs. "It's not that weird. Do you not want to anymore? We can stop."

"No, I mean. I don't know. Maybe it's 'cos you're still dressed."

"If you want me to take my clothes off, babe, you can just ask," he drawls, smirking.

You hold your breath as he pulls his shirt over his back, exposing the smooth expanse of his chest broken up by a small crop of dark hair that leads down past his naval and disappears into his sweatpants.

His chain bobs between you as he moves to hover on top of you, a great deal of space between your chests.

"Are we kissing?" he asks.

"Do you want to kiss me?" you ask him. He doesn't answer so you shake your head. "Maybe we shouldn't. It's romantic."

He laughs in a way you don't fully understand, his hands suddenly on your waist and pushing up over your ribs to the edge of your bra, a thin silken thing that contrasts your skin nicely. Your nipples are hard, peaking through the fabric. You can't find it in yourself to be embarrassed as he brings his hand up.

"Is this okay?" he asks.

"Yeah," you say, waiting, your body aflame in anticipation of his touch.

He brushes the pad of his thumb over your nipple and grins when you hiss in a breath, pulling back so he can see the entirety of your chest as he takes your breasts into his big palms and massages them gently.

"Pretty underwear," he says.

"Thank you," you say, feeling small under his gaze and his ministrations.

Eddie's eyes meet yours, burned honey brown. "Is the kissing rule extended to everywhere, or just lips?"

"Do what you want, Eds."

He does. He kisses the curve of your breast and you start to feel dizzy as his teeth appear, scratching over your skin lightly. He tugs the cup down and kisses a trail to your nipple, taking the bead of it into his mouth. You push the hair from his eyes and gasp at the sensation, a riveting strike of pleasure that warms you up from the inside out.

Eddie pulls away just as quickly and mouths kisses around the damp circle, plastering pecks over the small embeddings of his teeth.

His hands work under your back and fiddle with the clasp of your bra. You hold in a comment about his clumsy fingering though you giggle to yourself.

"What's funny?" he asks in a murmur, dropping your bra unceremoniously off the side of the bed.

"Nuthin'," you sing-song.

He doesn't believe you, hands pressing over the naked expanse of your chest with a firm pressure, messing with your boobs as he goes. He covers them with two hands and brings them together.

"Having fun?"

"Always with you," he says, saccharine sweet.

His teasing sarcasm is familiar and puts you at ease, wiggling down into his squishy bedsheets with a curious look on your face.

He gets bored pretty quickly, sitting up, hands fast as he slips his fingers under the waistband of your underwear and makes to pull them off. You throw your hand out and he stops.

"Maybe I can leave them on?" you ask.

He purses his lips, looking disappointed but accepting. "Sure, if you want to stop."

"No, I don't. Just. I don't know," you refuse to say you're shy about how you look. "Can't you just pull them to the side?"

"Sure. I don't care if you haven't shaved or anything, if that's what you're worried about."

More the general idea of your cunt on display. It feels nerve-racking. "Thanks."

He softens. "Baby, don't say thanks. We said for fun, right? Doesn't matter how we do it. I want you to enjoy yourself." He sees your knowing smile and amends, "I want for both of us to enjoy it. Keep the underwear. I can take mine off though, right?"

You grin at his cheeky tone. "Go for it, hotshot."

He turns the music up before he does, which is really the last straw. How loud does he think it's going to get? Your heart beats in your chest, fast as a mouse's as he pulls down his sweatpants and exposes his boxers.

You can see the shape of him already through the fabric.

He palms his cock and reaches for your chest, massaging one of your boobs as he does. You're sick of being touched without touching, struggling up into a sitting position. "Can I…?"

He nods, looking about as nervous as you'd felt when he pulled down your bra.

Your hand trembles imperceptibly as you take his cock into your hands, stroking its length through material. You're giggling as you do, the situation alien and tummy churning. He's both harder and softer than you expected, though you feel a certain rigidness begin to grow at your touch.

You shuffle backwards and bend at the waist, careful and gentle as you pull down his boxers. His cock springs free, crowned in a trim patch of dark, curled hair, going to kiss his shaft when Eddie pushes your shoulder.

"You don't have to," he says.

You frown quizzically. "I want to. This is half the fun, right?"

He looks a little dazed as you move in, his hand moving from your shoulder to your neck as you kiss the side of his length. He twitches in your hold.

You spit into your hand and it's embarrassing. You expect Eddie to laugh and he doesn't, something unreadable on his face when you look up. His lip between his teeth, his brows furrowed, he looks handsome and dark. You pump his cock, kissing at the shaft as you go, happy when his breathing hikes and his hands find your hair. Heat grows between your legs, the very beginning of wetness.

Eddie doesn't let you play for very long. "Fuck, maybe you shouldn't. Uh. I don't think I'll last," he adds.

You plant a last kiss to the side of his head and pull away. "Sorry."

"God, don't be," he says. You've never heard him like this. So rough.

"How do we do this? Do I just…?" you flop down on your back, smiling with teeth, nervous and embarrassed and excited, super excited.

"If that's how you like it."

Awkwardness disarmed by wanting, Eddie moves into the gap between your legs and spreads them, the flat of his palm against your cunt without any dithering. "Are you ready?"

"I don't know."

"Want me to play with you?" he asks.

You feel conflicted.

He holds his cock against the stretch of his midriff and shakes his head at you. "It's okay, princess."

Princess. "Maybe you can… can play with me as you go," you suggest hopefully, coquettish.

He rubs his thumb over the bump of your clit, peering down at your covered cunt almost assessingly. His thumb dips, fingers pulling cautiously at damp fabric until you're on show.

"Fuck," he says. "Fuck, can I touch you?" And he's already touching you but to be asked is nice, and when you nod he rubs the wet circle of your entrance with two fingertips, spreading that little bit of wetness around.

He begins to push in. Your eyes flick from his actions to his face, chest heaving as he mouths, "Fuck," and palms at his throbbing cock. "You're warm."

You flush from head to toe and squirm as he works you open, spreading and curling his digits inside you, working slickness out. You're tight with nerves but slowly, slowly relaxing.

"Can we fuck now?" you ask. You're rushing through the steps because you're nervous and Eddie can't seem to decide whether he should let you, conflict clear as day in the way he presses his lips together.

"I have lube," he says, too loud.

You choke on a laugh. "You do?"

"Yeah, just," he scrambles off of the bed and pulls a tube of gel from his bedside table. And of course he fucking does, Eddie's the same motherfucker who nails handcuffs to the wall. "You wanna try it?"

He's pulled out a condom at the same time.

"Yeah," you say, smiling enough to make your cheeks ache. Eddie's answering grin is brilliant.

He rips the condom open with his teeth and you watch as he rolls it on, enchanted, breathing shallow.

His hands rub at your thighs as he spreads your half-hidden cunt open.

"I'll go slow," he says.

You nod. He squeezes a very generous amount of lube over his cock and then thinks twice, spreading it with his fingers around the shaft and then over your entrance. It contracts with the cold. Eddie groans with his lips slammed shut and moves in closer, rubbing the head of his cock up your cunt. The first contact is overwhelming.

You reach for his forearm and grip hard.

"Okay?" he asks, pausing.

"It's a mess, right? Do you have a towel or something?"

He seems endeared by your worrying, grabbing your ankles in one hand and lifting your hips from the bed to shove his discarded shirt under your weeping slit. You feel your vision go rose coloured at his small display of strength, worse when he takes a hold of your ankles in sticky fingers and encourages them over his shoulders.

He bends over you, his chain dangling between you.

The head of his cock bumps into your entrance. He readjusts, pushing with minimal pressure. Your ass pressed to his hot thighs, your ankles to his hard shoulders, your hands searching for something to hold. Eddie twines your fingers and holds your joined hands to your hip.

"You're so fucking hot," he says, grinning saliciously. "I'm gonna fill you up, okay? Ready?"

His enthusiasm is catching, a grin turning up the corners of your lips as he presses in. He stretches you out slowly, fingers flexing around your hand and the other holding you in place as he takes shallow, quick thrusts.

Lube in play, your nerves are hardly a problem and soon the only feelings are pleasure, the dizzying, goosebump-prompting feeling of being split open around him and the warmth of being this close to him clouding you up. You're surprised at how much you want to make sounds, your fast inhales slowly turning to mewling moans. Eddie makes less noise but his enjoyment is obvious, an amorous screwing to his brows and lips.

"Fuck," he groans, the word dragging with his cock, head probing emphatically at your walls.

You gasp as he bottoms out, his pelvis flush with your cunt. "Fuck," he says again. "Baby, your pussy's s'fucking tight. How's that feel? Feel good?" Then, at your shy smile, "Yeah?"

"Yeah, Eds."

Your thighs burn as he pushes in. Attentive at your clit, Eddie works you into a steady tizzy, thrusting slow and deep and moulding, looking prettier than he has any right to look as he pushes tight circles into your swollen clit.

You can't help flashing between two minds. Oh my god, I'm fucking Eddie. And oh my god, I'm fucking Eddie. Lovely, handsome, ridiculous Eddie, best friend since middle school and fellow long-term loser, nicest boy you've ever met, and why do his eyes look so big? He's so close the tops of your thighs are brushing your abdomen. You can smell that green apple tang under sex, his skin. His chain tickles you as he closes in and you think he's going to kiss you, really truly kiss you, but his face ducks down, his nose and lips on your neck.

Anywhere but the lips, you'd agreed, and now he's kissing your neck. Scraping bites and loving, sloven mouthing. A spread of damp half moons over the column of your throat, working his way up to the sweet spot below your ear.

His hips snap into yours harder than they had been and you whimper.

"Again," you demand, arms wrapped around the cape of his back, his shoulder blades moving under your hands.

"Whatever you want, princess," he promises, the pet name bathed in ire.

Snapping again, hips rolling, pleasure made all the worse by his panting into your skin and his kisses, though they grow sparse as time stretches. You feel his hips begin to flag, his fucking sloppy. The circles on your clit become loose.

"Eddie," you whisper. His pelvis is grinding hard into yours, an aching painful pleasure as he works empathically into your spongey walls.

"How's that feel? Fucking full of me, aren't you?" he asks.

"Feels good, it-" you gasp as he pulls out and strikes in, the head of his cock going deep. You feel a rush of heat behind your eyes almost close to tears as he finds somewhere you didn't know he could find.

"What was that?" he asks, laughing, teasing. "Did you hear that sound you just made?"

One of your hands falls down his back, pulling, hoping to spur him into a crueler rhythm. "Eddie, it's so deep."

Something about your wet eyes, your pleading tone really gets him. A wave of shuddering moves over his skin and he pulls you by the shoulders into his chest, mouth at your neck muttering curses. You cry out as he hits your sweet spot again, merciless, hardly recovered from one thrust when you're suffering another. You're a wet mess of whimpering, his name and nothing else on your lips.

"I'm…" He takes a deep breath, sounding apologetic. "I'm close, babe, I'm," he cuts himself, slowing his movements.

"It's okay, it's okay." You want to say something sexy like a bombshell would but all you can do is squeeze your walls around his cock and pull his hair from his neck and whisper, "You can cum. Please."

"Shit," he moans, hands tight on your hips, rocking you against his rutting cock until he's cumming. You'd pay more than you should for the sound on tape.

His grip on your hips is bruising as he sits up. "Fuck," he says, voice coloured with good humour. You laugh at his laughing, the two of you giggling and breathing hard. He lets go of your hips, stroking his hand against the markings left behind.

"Babe, I'm sorry. Did I hurt you?" he asks, eyes shooting upto yours.

You're failing to hide an amorous smile, breathing hard. "No, you didn't hurt me," you say fondly.

"Shit."

He pulls your legs off of his shoulders and they ache as he folds them up, resting his chin on your knees and pulling the dampened hair away from his sweaty forehead.

"You have the mouth of a sailor, Eddie."

He rubs his cheek against your kneecap. "Can you blame me? Sweetest pussy I've ever fucking seen-"

"You've barely seen it!"

"Fucked, then," he amends.

His hands are like silk as he follows down your thighs and spreads them open. You cover the flesh of your tummy with your hands as he pulls out and tugs the condom off of his softening dick. He ties it off, aiming for the trash can in the corner and missing.

You cringe. "Eds."

"I'll get it later," he says distractedly, staring down at the wet mess of your panties. "Babe, you've seen the jewels. Can we please have these off and I'll take care of you?"

Your legs close as you slide your knee against your thigh coyly. "Care sounds like I'm sick."

"You are sick. Sick body, sick smile, sick little sounds," he teases. "Sick cunt."

You wrinkle your nose and glare at him, giggling as he pulls your legs back open and his fingers dig under your waistband again.

"Don't fucking swear," you scold.

"Please?" he asks, ignoring your admonishment.

His hands are paused and patient. Your chest rises as you inhale, falls as you let it out slowly.

"Okay. Yeah. It's only fair."

Your bravado pleases him endlessly. "Attagirl," he says, pulling your panties down until they hang off of one ankle. You wiggle your foot to make them slide past your sock, Eddie too distracted by your bare centre.

"You're a total jerk for hiding this from me," he says, the flat of his palm smoothing down the edge of your cunt, his thumb pulling your entrance open just slightly. "You think I wonder about your boobs? I fucking did, but your pussy?"

You flush white hot at his words. "Does it… meet your expectations?"

He bursts into boyish laughter between your legs until you're giggling too, the giggles quickly tapering into breathlessness as his lips touch your skin. Close-lipped kisses up the inside of your thigh until he's loving on your cunt. He rubs at your entrance before easing you open, middle and ring finger pushing in with his wrist turned up as he suckles your clit. You reach for his hair, scratching his scalp gently as you scrape messy curls from his face.

He makes up for any inaccuracy with ardency. You twitch beneath him, hips rolling in an attempt to draw him impossibly closer.

"I got you," he murmurs into your sticky skin. He nibbles lightly at your clit, pulls until it slips from between his lips. "Wanna feel you cum around my fingers."

You seize up, thighs tightening. "Eds-"

He shushes you, three quick sh sh sh's that make you wanna pinch him. His pinky and index finger slide against the wet skin between your cunt and thighs as he finger fucks you, curving into your sweet spot as his mouth works you over. You're pent up from the fuck and he knows what he's doing, and you can't help pulling his hair as you cum around his fingers, clamping down hard.

He plays a little longer but eases up when you cry out, the bottom of his face shining with dampness as he pulls away.

He wipes the mess away with the back of his hand. "You taste sweet. But that might've been the lube."

You splutter around a breathless laugh and tug him on top of you, bodies pressed together and sweaty. His weight is nice.

"That was fun, right?" he asks, hands at your neck, elbows digging into your naked chest as his face hovers above yours. If you didn't know him as well as you did you'd miss the tiny silver of worry.

"So fun. I have amazing ideas," you agree, panting.

"Amazing."

There's a gap of silence where you catch your breath and Eddie watches.

"How's the dynamic? Changed?" he asks lightly, fingers tapping over your collar like he's playing a song.

"Irrevocably."

You wrap one of his curls around your finger and indulge yourself, eye to eye, lips an inch apart.

"Do you wanna do it again?" he asks.

You pretend to think about it. "Yeah."

He gives you that perfect puppy dog smile and kisses your cheek, a wet, smacking thing as he climbs off of you and pulls you into his lap. You haven't quite decided, but you think you might let him kiss you on the mouth if he wanted to.

-

they get better at fucking I swear

[morkleemelon]

pairing: mark x reader, best friend! haechan x reader, gender neutral

genre: college! au, angst, based on the song ‘drivers license’ by olivia rodrigo

warnings: language, heartbreak, allusions to a broken past, mention of parental issues, college party with alcohol

word count: 5021

song recs: drivers license - olivia rodrigo, heather - conan gray, happier - ed sheeran, a soulmate who wasn’t meant to be - jess benko, someone you loved - lewis capaldi

I got my driver's license last week

Just like we always talked about

'Cause you were so excited for me

To finally drive up to your house

But today I drove through the suburbs

Crying 'cause you weren't around

The apartment door shut behind you with a soft click as you return after a long day of classes. Feeling around the wall in the dark, you switch on the overhead light, the murmur of electricity giving its greetings.

Your living space is underwhelming: you’ve allowed yourself minimal furniture to save on funds and what little you do have is unfortunately not tidied well.

Unopened mail scatters across your plaster countertop. One in particular seems out of place amongst the dull grays and whites of the others, the bright smile of a supposed student greeting you with a cartoonish “congrats! you passed your driving test!”. 

It all seems pointless now.

Your body aches as you set down your backpack and strip off your outer layers. It’s mid-spring in Seoul, so daily downpours of rain is a given.

Tossing your raincoat carelessly over a nearby chair, you don’t mind as the raindrops patter onto the wood panel floor as you make your way to the living room couch. The worn out leather used to be comfortable, but now it scratches at your skin with the memories you had attached to it.

You remember when he used to be here with you. You’d laughed together, cried together, talked together until the moon went to rest and the sun took its place in the sky. Everything was brighter then when he loved you.

Mark had chased after you first. He’d taken to you almost immediately after you’d met; he was walking downtown with his friends and when he wasn’t careful where he was going, backing into you and causing you to spill your tea all over yourself. He was flustered, running into the nearby café to get you napkins to clean yourself off. You said it was okay, but he insisted he give you his number so he could pay to get your shirt cleaned or buy you a new one.

Pulling a blanket throw over your legs, you switch on the tv to drown out the quiet. Your eyes fix on the old soap opera, but you aren’t really paying attention. The roaring laugh track falls dead to your ears as you pull the blanket closer over yourself. The space next to you feels so empty.

Mark was never subtle about liking you. After that first time you met, he made it his mission to make you his. You weren’t sure about it because he was part of the popular crowd and you weren’t one to date around. Not to mention, being pursued so earnestly was a new experience for you, one that seemed too good to be true. The first time he asked you out, you rejected him. You thought he would give up then, realize you were nothing special and you would go back to your sheltered life. That was what you grew to expect from others.

But unhindered, he persisted. Much to your astonishment, he snaked his way into your everyday life, chipping away at your walls piece by piece. When it rained, he had an umbrella waiting. When you cried, he had the tissues ready. Piece by piece, you let him see inside. You could never forget the moment when he finally succeeded and your resolve came crumbling down.

He was sitting right there, on the cushion not one arm’s length away from where you sit now. Mark was never shy about telling you that you were beautiful, that you were special, but this time he prepared a special weapon to win you over.

Mark sat there strumming his acoustic guitar, the one his big brother gave him for christmas, as he so excitedly boasted to you. 

“This is a song I wrote about you,” he said, peering into your eyes. His voice was soft and he seemed shy for the first time. Fingers dancing on the strings, he was genuine and vulnerable in front of you. “Forever,” he sang and ‘forever’ you believed.

So you let yourself love him back. 

You kissed him first, to his surprise. You mustered all the courage you had and you leaned over his instrument to cup his warm cheek, pressing your lips quickly to the corner of his mouth. Maybe it was short and you had missed a little, but your heart raced with anticipation. “How would he react?” you had worried to yourself afterwards. You had your doubts, that is, until he kissed you back. 

Mark’s hands were laced through your hair as he brought you in again, this time deeper than the first. Moving his guitar onto the floor beside you, he pulled you into his lap and you kissed him back with all the love you had. It felt so natural, moving your lips against his and feeling his breath fan across your wet skin as he kissed a line down your neck.

You could still feel it, only now it burns.

He asked you to be his and you breathed a “yes” back. He kissed away your insecurities, insisting they made you all the more special. Piece by piece, then all at once, you gave yourself to him. 

Days turned to weeks then months, you came back to your apartment together, kissing, loving, he always went out of his way for you. “This is it,” you thought, “he’s the one”. 

You talked about him with your friends all the time, gushing about how good he was to you. Mark integrated into your friend group with ease and he got along especially well with your best friend, Haechan. When he met your mom, she wouldn’t stop praising how well mannered Mark was. In every way, he was perfect for you. And in every way, you believed he would be forever.

One of the things Mark always teased you about was your lack of a license. Most students your age had one now that you were in university, but you had yet to take the test out of fear. Mark let you drive his car around the parking lot and the two of you laughed at your jolting stops every time you hit a curb. You said you were scared, but he held your hand and told you it was okay. With his help, you drove the small white car around in circles until the fear went away.

You promised him that once you got your license, the first place you would go was his house since he always had to drive to yours. Mark’s face lit up in such a way that could only be pure joy and you kissed the night away. He said he couldn’t wait.

But, you guess, now he can.

And you're probably with that blonde girl

Who always made me doubt

She's so much older than me

She's everything I'm insecure about

Yeah, today I drove through the suburbs

'Cause how could I ever love someone else?

It was only so long before you came across your first problems. Part of it was your fault; you were foolish enough to believe that you would always be the most important one in his life. You’d grown so used to Mark’s special treatment and constant reassurance that when he treated you any different, you got so scared.

It was a saturday night and he wanted to bring you out to a party. You begged him to stay inside like you always did, just the two of you, but you could tell he really wanted to go. 

“Can’t you go without me?,” you asked, lying next to him in your bed.

“I wanna show you off,” he whined back, pulling you into a suffocating hug.

“Ah, fine!,” you squealed, your chin wedged in the nape of his neck as he squeezed you tight. He pressed a dozen kisses all over you then.

“It’s not a big deal,” you thought, “this is the least I can do for him”.

When you showed up to the party, you stuck right by his side. You had never been to one before, the alcohol and drugs making you uncomfortable. The trap music blared loudly as sweaty, intoxicated students grinded on each other shamelessly. Unfamiliar men looked at you with hooded, lustful eyes and you pulled at the hem of your short dress in discomfort. Mark hardly regarded you except for a hand at your waist and chatted freely with his friends that you didn’t know.

You felt out of place. Even without drinking anything, it wasn’t long before the heat of the frat house made your head spin and you tugged at Mark’s arm to get his attention.

“Baby, I want to leave,” you pleaded.

“What? But we haven’t been here for even an hour, ___”. Mark looked so disappointed as you interrupted his drinking game.

“I’m sorry, Mark, I really don’t want to be here,” you insisted, hoping he would once again leave everything and come to you. 

For the first time, he hesitated. And for the first time, you saw her.

“Mark!,” an unfamiliar voice shouted over the cacophony. A blonde girl headed over to you. She was tall, clearly older by the way she carried herself. Her skin glistened with sweat from the party, but it didn’t take away from her gorgeous features. Even as her makeup ran slightly, you took in her looks with a pang of envy.

“Oh, hey!,” Mark greeted, his hand leaving your waist to pull her into a hug. Your heart tugged with jealousy. The way she looked at him and the way he didn’t even seem to see you as he chatted with her made you sick to your stomach. You felt like you couldn’t breathe.

Turning around, you weaved your way through the crowd towards the exit. The cold night air greeted you as you opened the front door to leave. You shivered at the difference in temperature as you made your way quickly down the driveway. It felt so wrong to be walking away from Mark, but the emotions crowding your head made you take one step after the other.

All the rest of you begged for him to stop you, to run after you and reassure you like he always did. So when you felt his hand grip your elbow, spinning you around, tears streamed down your face in relief. 

“I’m sorry, ___,” he apologized, hugging you close. It was so warm. “I’m sorry”.

And you forgave him so easily.

And I know we weren't perfect but I've never felt this way for no one

And I just can't imagine how you could be so okay now that I'm gone

Guess you didn't mean what you wrote in that song about me

'Cause you said forever now I drive alone past your street

But that fight was the first of many. Each worse than the last - it started with bickering about little things like being late for dates or accidentally missing calls. Much to your greatest fear, Mark became noticeably slower to respond to your messages and always seemed to cancel your plans together, if you even made them anymore. Slowly, you found yourself sitting alone in your house more, waiting for him. 

Still, you believed in him naively. Every couple fights, right? And he promised you forever. Just like every other time, he would come back to you and all would be well. You loved him like you’ve never loved anyone, even more than yourself.

But what you didn’t know was that you were pressing on the gas while Mark was slamming the brakes - your relationship became dysfunctional and before you could admit it, you were the only one hanging on.

 You pressed too hard and everything exploded.

“We’re just friends, I don’t know what’s not clicking!,” Mark huffed angrily as he paced around your apartment kitchen. 

“I’m not saying anything, all I mean is that I wish you’d told me that you were driving her home,” you reply, raising your voice slightly.

“You don’t own me, ___, I don’t have to tell you everything! What about you and Haechan, huh? You’re always hanging out with him and I never say anything!”. His voice was almost a shout, nothing like the loving tone he always used with you. He started packing up his things.

“Chan is my best friend, you know that,” you answer, voice breaking slightly as tears began to form. 

Mark zipped up his bag, pausing to look up at you. His gaze was stiff, but it softened slightly at the sight of you. You could tell he was thinking about his next move. You thought it would be just like every other argument you had - he would pull you into his chest and the rhythmic beat of his heart would tell you he forgave you. After all, you had his promise of ‘forever’. 

But this time, he turned away. He sauntered towards the door and with his hand on the handle, he fired his words like arrows to your heart.

“I think we need a break”

And just like that he left, the door clicking softly behind him.

One second, two, three.

You waited with your breath hitched in your throat for him to come back. 

Four, five, six. 

Tears dangled from the tip of your chin before splattering against the wooden floorboards as you listened for his footsteps to approach again.

They never did.

And all my friends are tired

Of hearing how much I miss you but

I kinda feel sorry for them

'Cause they'll never know you the way that I do

Yeah, today I drove through the suburbs

And pictured I was driving home to you

That night left you utterly broken. You stood there in shock until the gravity of your pain brought you crashing down. Crying and crying more, you waited still for him to come back. Mark broke down your walls only to leave you defenseless - sheltering yourself was a good defense mechanism, one that was supposed to prevent you from being hurt like your dad did your mom. 

In every way, you blamed yourself. You were never good enough for him and you never did nearly as much for him as he did you. A piece of work, that’s what you were. You didn’t deserve him and now he finally realized it.

You had cried all week, barely leaving your room to eat and go to class. You debated calling in sick, but even that cost energy you didn’t have. Checking your phone religiously, the pressure in your chest grew greater each time you saw he didn’t text or call.

Your last two messages were left unread: you’d asked him to call you to talk and you said you were sorry for doubting him.

Calling your friends was the only relief that came to you, but you felt bad for always bothering them. They didn’t have the words to comfort you. Well, there wasn’t anything they could say to comfort you. 

But the final blow was yet to come. 

Your phone buzzed with a message and your hand instinctively rushed to check it. 

A message from Mark?

Your heart dropped when you saw it was only a calendar reminder.

“Driver’s License Test Today!”

You squeezed your eyes shut then as the memories of the times you spent practicing with Mark flooded back unwillingly. Shifting around in your cold bed, you wrapped yourself closer into the mess of sheets. He praised you as you got better, setting up the appointment himself.

“You can do it, babe,” he smiled at you widely from the passenger seat, “Once you get your license you can come over to my house all by yourself”. He leaned in close and you instinctively tilted your neck towards him to meet his lips. Kissing the sensetive spot where your jaw meets your ear, you let out a soft sigh of content. “And we can have so much fun”.

Struggling to ignore the stinging pain of the recollection, it took everything in you to muster the energy to go. Something in you still believed that maybe he would come back. Maybe he just needed time to think and he still meant forever. Maybe he was hurting just like you.

So you go to the dmv and you drive just like you practiced with Mark’s old white car, only this time with your own rental. The proctor ticked away at the boxes as you cruised around the familiar suburban streets. You’re glad he didn’t mention your puffy under eyes and slept-in hair.

“Alright, kiddo” the proctor finished signing the checklist as you pulled back into the original parking lot, “congrats! You passed!”.

You smiled and thanked him, but you didn’t feel happy. After the proctor hopped out of your car, you checked your phone to see you had a missed message. Heart racing, you unlock it quickly, hands shaking while you typed in your passcode. It had started to drizzle outside.

“___, I’ve been thinking a lot and I think it’s best if we broke up. I just don’t love you anymore. I’m sorry”. 

You dropped your phone.

Minutes must have passed before you could move a muscle. Rain pattered gray against your windshield and you watched as the droplets ran down and disappeared into the wipers. You felt like you couldn’t breathe.

Your body on autopilot, you start the car, the old engine skipping a few times before running smoothly. Hardly thinking, you cruised through the suburban neighborhoods outside of Seoul, not sure of where you were going, but needing to go somewhere. 

“Mark,” you say to no one, “Mark”. The second one was barely a whisper. You repeated his name to yourself as the rain bore down harder, tears falling down onto your lap. Curling your fingers tighter around the steering wheel, you sped down to the only place you knew to go.

“What the hell,” the boy at the door stated, staring bewildered at your soaking form. You sobbed, raindrops mixing with your tears so it was unclear which was which. Lighting cracked in the dark sky, followed by the inevitable rumble of thunder. Your car was pulled over the side of the road and you stood shivering pitifully in front of your best friend. 

Haechan took you inside, offering you a towel and dry clothes while you said nothing, not trusting your voice to handle words. Of course, the two of you were close enough to understand this and he offered you silence back. 

You cried into his lap as he patted you on the arm. The fireplace crackled in the background, but you still felt so cold. 

“He broke up with me,” you hiccupped out finally, grabbing onto his hands for dear life. You hadn’t voiced it out loud yet and the words left your throat like knives.

“That son of a bitch,” Haechan cursed, letting you grip onto him, not saying anything about the pain. 

“I-I,” your body shook as you hiccupped uncontrollably. He shushed you, stroking your hair with his other hand to calm you down.

You took deep breaths, closing your eyes to try to pacify your trembling sobs and make the pain go away.

“It hurts,” you finally managed, “It hurts so bad”. 

Haechan squeezed your hand in acknowledgement, not knowing what to say. Just like that, he held you for hours until his legs went numb and your small gasps calmed into steady breathing. Still, he didn’t move.

“One day,” he softly broke the silence, brushing invisible circles on the back of your hand, “it’ll all pass. You might think he’s everything right now, but if he wasn’t ready to love all of you, he doesn’t deserve you”. 

And it was after letting those words sink in that you slowly began to notice the warmth of the fireplace. 

Red lights

Stop signs

I still see your face

In the white cars

Front yards

Can't drive past the places

We used to

Go to

'Cause I still fucking love you, babe

You drifted asleep on his lap then, peacefully. When you awoke, your best friend was no longer in your embrace and you blinked to remember where you were. For a second, just a small second, you forgot about what happened the day before. 

Shifting up to a sitting position, you stretched your sore neck and looked around to Haechan in the kitchen. A sizzling noise accompanied by the alluring smell of bacon wafted over. Your stomach grumbled - it had been a few days since you’d had the appetite to eat something. 

You made your way to the familiar kitchen, one you had spent many days hanging out in. Haechan tilted his head towards the sound of your approaching footsteps.

“You’re awake?”

You nodded in response. He wore a floral apron as he cooked, his hair still messy from sleep. For the first time in a while, you smiled.

After breakfast, he let you drive to school.

“I didn’t know you got your license,” the boy remarked as he buckled in.

“I did. Just yesterday”. Your voice was still slightly hoarse from crying. With your best attempts in Haechan’s bathroom, you washed the tears from your face. You hoped you could pretend you were okay.

But as you drove along, you passed the house that you had so temporarily forgotten about. The white car parked outside of Mark’s home pierced your chest with dull pain as you remembered the promises you made together. 

“That’s cool. Did you finish the bio project?,” Haechan made his best attempt at capturing your attention, understanding what was going through your head. 

You couldn’t reply.

Sidewalks

We crossed

I still hear your voice

In the traffic

We're laughing

Over all the noise

God, I'm so blue

Know we're through

But I still fucking love you, babe

The rest of the ride was silent as you struggled to keep it together. You thought about how Mark used to kiss you whenever there was a red light, leaning across the dash to tell you he loved you. You used to laugh at the ticklish feeling of his fingers feeling around your jaw to get a better angle to your lips, squealing at him to go when the light changed green.

You felt numb as you sat in your morning bio lecture, heeding no attention to your professor’s voice. Haechan sat next to you, observing your pained expression with concern. 

“___, you okay?”

The question only makes you feel worse and you lean your chin weakly against his shoulder. You let out a small whimper, lips trembling as you hid your face in his neck. Grabbing your hand, he led you out of the dark lecture hall. You didn’t have the energy to ask where you were going as he pulled you out of the university science building. 

“Give me your keys, I’ll drive,” Haechan directed. You obliged. 

Seoul traffic picked up and the two of you sat listening to the radio. 

“You wanna go get coffee?,” your best friend asked. 

You didn’t answer, listening to the melody of the acoustic music playing on the radio. It reminded you of the song Mark wrote about you all those months ago. Haechan accepted your silence as affirmation and he pulled into a quaint café lot. A white car is parked in front of yours and you think you’re seeing things because it looks like Mark’s. Everything seemed to remind you of him.

You didn’t notice that Haechan got out of the car until he held your door open for you. Numbly, you step out, not taking your eyes off the white vehicle. 

It was Mark’s.

Haechan realized the same too late and you were already staring through the café window. There he sat, the person you’ve been dying to see and hear from. Mark sat there and across from him, you recognized the blonde from the party. He left her for you then, but now you couldn’t say the same.

He looked so happy, happier than he was with you in the last months of your relationship, his smile reaching his eyes and his nose scrunching up as he laughed at something she said. Mark’s eyes sparkled as he looked at her. You don’t miss how his hand gripped the edge of the chair behind her back so his arm was almost around her shoulders. 

He looked so okay without you.

Haechan pulled you under the small café umbrella as it started to drizzle. You were turned away from the window, out of sight from Mark, but the image was already burned into the back of your head.

“What am I supposed to do, chan?,” you whimpered, letting your tears soak into the taller boy’s chest as he hugged you close, “I still fucking love him”. 

This time, he didn’t answer as you gripped onto his tee shirt. He didn't have to as you remembered your best friend’s words from the night before: “It’ll all pass”.

“It’ll all pass,” you thought desperately, although you felt like the sidewalk would swallow you whole. “It’ll all pass,” you repeated, this time out loud, the words feeling like cement as you sobbed into your best friend’s shirt. 

It started to rain harder before Haechan spoke, his voice rumbling in his chest against your cheek, “It’ll all be okay one day, I promise”. You held onto these words for dear life.

…

Switching off the television, you shuffle out of the living room to get ready for bed. It’s been a week since then and you still repeat Haechan’s words to yourself every night. They serve as your only consolation to fight against the knowledge that Mark found somebody new. Somebody that isn’t you is making him happy now. Somebody that isn’t you is hearing that they’re special, that they’re beautiful.

Still, you pressed the band-aids to your bullet hole.

“It’ll be okay,” you whisper to yourself as you turn your bedside light off, “It’ll pass one day”. The promises wash around your head until sleep invites you in and finally the dull pain of being awake can be ignored.

The bright light of morning came as a surprise, waking you from your slumber. You shield the golden rays from your eyes with a tired hand, although welcoming the rare sunshine in a month filled with rain. Birds sing their weekend song as you stretch the sleep from your bones. For the first time in a while, your room appeared bright.

Brushing your teeth, you make a peace sign in the mirror at your messy hair. Letting out a single chuckle, you flop your atrocious bun to the other side. For the first time in a while, the ache in your chest doesn’t feel quite as painful. Spitting out your toothpaste foam, you take the time to cleanse your face properly, patting on your favorite moisturizer after.

You brush through the tangles in your hair, looking at your reflection, taking in the first image of yourself trying to heal. It isn’t a lot, but it’s everything.

Strolling to the kitchen, you pour yourself a bowl of cereal. Munching away, you pull open the living room curtains, letting the morning light stream in. There you stand, watching the bumblebees rub against the pink flowers to drink their nectar.

“Cheers,” you whisper, raising your spoon up to the window before bringing it to your lips. Finishing the simple meal, you debate what to do next. 

You look to the couch, wondering if it would be okay to sit and waste your day away with netflix. Just then, you feel a buzz from your back pocket.

“____, you free?” the message reads. It’s from Haechan.

You reply that you are and he asks you to come over to hang out together. Looking to the couch then back to your phone, you head down to the door to grab your keys and your license. Before you leave, you pause, looking at the cluttered letters collecting dust on the countertop. Before the door clicks shut behind you, they’re in the trash and the counter smells of lemon disinfectant.

The weather is so nice. You feel the warmth against your face as you walk down to your car. It’s not the rental anymore because Haechan helped you find a used one that you could afford. It’s bright red, your favorite color, and it doesn’t skip when you start the engine. 

You cruise down the suburban streets with the windows down to feel the fresh breeze play with your hair. It smells like cut grass and petrichor. 

Turning onto the familiar street, you expect your heart to clench at the sight of Mark’s house, but it doesn’t. You press the gas pedal a little harder as you speed past the white car parked in the driveway. Taking a deep breath, you drive past his street. 

Maybe it hurts a little, but you don’t cry anymore. You turn the wheel smoothly as you pull onto a different road, just like the way you always practiced. Maybe it hurts a little, but you’re always thankful for the time you had with him. You turn the radio to your favorite channel, letting your body sway to the relaxing guitar tune. Maybe it hurts a little, but you’ll always love the song he wrote about you. Even if Mark doesn’t mean it anymore, someone new could. 

Following the route you now have memorized, you steer into your best friend’s neighborhood.

Maybe you’re driving alone, but it doesn’t hurt so much. Not when there’s someone waiting for you.

I know we weren't perfect but I've never felt this way for no one

And I just can't imagine how you could be so okay now that I'm gone

Guess you didn't mean what you wrote in that song about me

'Cause you said forever now I drive alone past your street

Yeah, you said forever now I drive alone past your street

©️morkleemelon all rights reserved

[atsumumiyasimpgirltm]

Driver’s License- (Atsumu Miya x F!Reader)

Pairings: Atsumu Miya x F!reader

Warnings: mentions of smoking, language

Genre: Angst

Type: Songfic

Word Count: 2972

A/N:  I totally didn’t write this for myself no way self indulgence wHO’s thAT??? Maybe I’ll write a part 2

Song: Driver’s License- Olivia Rodrigo

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

I got my driver's license last week

You had turned 16 a week before, and had gotten your driver’s license the day after. At the DMV, you took your photo, smiling through your pain like you always did, because you were a good girl, weren’t you? You didn’t get mad, or cry over stupid things, no, not you. 

Just like we always talked about

You remembered the late night sleepovers when you were kids, talking about what high school would be like, and making up funny scenarios based on the movies you saw on the television. It was during one of those late nights when Atsumu had asked, “do you love me?” and patiently waited for an answer.

'Cause you were so excited for me

He was older than you, and he always boasted about being able to drive before you. You always rolled your eyes and laughed, texting him to ask for a ride somewhere or to just pick you up so you could sit in the car and talk.

To finally drive up to your house

Atsumu swore to you that the day you got your driver’s license, you’d go somewhere together. Maybe find an empty highway and cruise for a while, going nowhere just to ease the stress off. Maybe it’d be a mini one day road trip, and you could hit all the spots that you had been to as kids. You could be kids again, just for a little bit.

But today I drove through the suburbs

He swore, he crossed his heart, he promised, but when you texted him to inform him of the news, he texted back with a simple “I’m busy,” breaking the illusion that you held on your friendship with him.

Crying 'cause you weren't around

Devastated, you got into your car and fulfilled the promise yourself, aimlessly driving through your neighborhood, no destination in mind. It was no empty highway, but it numbed the shock that you felt.

And you're probably with that blonde girl

Later, he texted saying he was with someone, and you immediately knew, it was that girl. The one who was so pretty, the one who everyone adored or admired, the one who no one could say a single negative thing about, because anything negative was automatically spun into a compliment. Atsumu had talked about her once or twice, saying that they did things together on the weekends.

Who always made me doubt

You used to be acquainted  with her, and she repeatedly insisted that ‘You and Atsumu would look so cute together.’ For a girl a year older than you to say that? It gave you reason, reason to think that maybe he’d want you. There was always something off about her, she was too sweet to be real, too perfect. Who would have guessed that she was a backstabbing bitch? But you couldn’t even say that out loud could you? Because if you did, everyone would tell you ‘she knows what she wants’ or ‘she’s ambitious and is willing to take necessary steps to get to her goals.’ 

She's so much older than me

In the year above you, she was a second year when you and Atsumu were in your first. It was a wonder how he ever met her in the first place, he never accelerated any classes. Maybe it was fate bringing them together, as many would say. Or maybe, it wasn’t fate for them to be together, but fate punishing you for being too passive, too much of a watcher.

She's everything I'm insecure about

She was tall, she had long unmarked legs and clear skin. A small waist and big eyes ringed a shifting color with brown in the center. Every time you saw her, you wanted to put her disgustingly pretty face into the floor for being everything you were not, for giving you just an ounce of hope and then taking it away. 

Yeah, today I drove through the suburbs

You needed to clear your head again. Still sitting on the hope that maybe, just maybe, Atsumu would realize she wasn’t for him, 

You started the car, senses perking up. The engine was loud, and drowned out your thoughts, the inside of the car smelled like mints, and the leather of the steering wheel cover was rough under your hands. 

'Cause how could I ever love someone else?

Driving in the direction of Atsumu’s home, you slowed when you saw his porch light on, grateful that the tint on your windows concealed you from any onlookers. 

And I know we weren't perfect

When you slowed at the curb opposite to his house, you saw Atsumu and the girl, sitting on plastic chairs, laughing about something, and smoking menthols. The girl pulled the rolled piece of paper from her mouth with French manicured nails, and placed her hand on his arm. He beamed, at the physical contact. Whether it was from the buzz the nicotine gave him or her you would never know. A sour taste, not too far from the taste of smoke, filled your mouth. Since when did he do illegal things?

But I've never felt this way for no one

The girl’s head raised, and she whispered something to Atsumu. He looked across the street at your car, making accidental eye contact- not that he knew-  through the driver’s side window. For a second, you watched him through the glass, contemplating whether or not to get out to confront him.

And I just can't imagine

Atsumu cocked his head to the side, most likely in recognition of your car, but if he wanted to communicate, he didn’t do so, instead turning back to the girl and reassuring her that “It’s nothing.” Ignoring the warnings from your parents telling you not to drive in platform shoes, you turned the car from your parallel parked position on the curb, and floored the gas pedal as hard as you could, escaping off of Atsumu’s street before the tears came. 

How you could be so okay now that I'm gone

The next day at school, you walked up to the roof, expecting Atsumu to be waiting with Osamu and Aran like he usually was. That was your routine, the routine you had formed back in elementary school, and had followed every single day since then. Every single day but today and the days to follow, because when you ascended the stairs to the roof, you spotted Atsumu and the girl, deep in conversation about something, Osamu and Aran nowhere in sight.  You felt yourself being torn apart as you watched their interactions, so effortless and easy despite having only met a couple weeks prior to this event. A feat that took you months of talking with Atsumu to get. Rage filled every crevice in your body, and it pulsed through your arteries. It was being pumped by your heart, and soon, you were so filled with it that with all the strength you had, threw your bento box straight between them.

Guess you didn't mean what you wrote in that song about me

They looked up at you, conversation having been stopped by your projectile bento box, and after registering the disturbance, both glared at you. It wasn’t fair, it wasn’t fucking fair. For this girl to come and take everything from you, your best friend, your closest friend, it wasn’t fair for her to come and break all the promises that you and Atsumu had made.

'Cause you said forever, now I drive alone past your street

“So much for ‘friends forever!’” You angrily folded your arms, taking a final look at them before turning yourself around and untucking your shirt to wipe away tears. 

“What’s her problem?” You heard in a condescending high pitched voice. 

A scoff and then, in a much deeper voice:  “She’s just pissed about a promise we made when we were kids.”

You ran as far as you possibly could from them, and tried to find your other friends, your real  friends. 

And all my friends are tired

Entering the cafeteria, you found Osamu and Aran at a table in the cafeteria, most likely having been exiled by Atsumu to accommodate for his new friend. Seeing that you had no lunch, Osamu pushed an onigiri towards you, and Aran offered you half of an apple. They both looked at you with pity.

Of hearing how much I miss you

You spent that entire lunch talking about how much Atsumu’s new ‘just friend’ pissed you off. You talked about how much she angered you, how she was too perfect, how she was a bad influence on him, and how with her, you were always going to be the villain, the person who was keeping them apart, and the second place.

But I kinda feel sorry for them

Aran and Osamu, being the good listeners they were, ate up your words, and didn’t disregard a thing you had said. They didn’t tell you that she was ‘ambitious’ or ‘doing what she knew she had to do,’ they didn’t tell you to stop being oversensitive or that people come and go, They just sat and listened to you, and when it was over, patted your back and fed you lies about how “Everything is going to be okay.”

'Cause they'll never know you the way that I do, yeah

But nothing would be okay, not as long as Atsumu and the pretty blonde girl were together, Neither Aran nor Osamu knew the Atsumu you knew, the one who would call at midnight asking if you wanted to go to Walmart, the one who would drop everything he was doing to hang out with you. The Atsumu that was gone now all because of one person.

Today I drove through the suburbs

After school that same day, you waited until the sun was on the horizon, painting the sky around you pretty pinks and oranges, a contrast to the way you were feeling. You sat on your curb until you felt the time was right, then, you got into your car and drove to one of the only places you had ever felt safe.

And pictured I was driving home to you

And maybe it wasn’t the place, but the person who made it a safe space, because when you pulled into the street, seeing the familiar glow of porch lights, the sound of loud laughter, and the minty smell of menthol- different from the smell in your car, you were brought back to that night, and immediately wanted to turn back and drive anywhere but here.

And I know we weren't perfect

Ignoring the bad feeling that surrounded your mind, you slowly drove through the street, pulling into your spot on the opposite sidewalk curb.

But I've never felt this way for no one

Just in time to observe the silence that fell between the pair. This was it! This was when Atsumu realized that she wasn’t the one! Everything would be fixed now, and you could all go back to the way it was the before, the normal way, the better way.

And I just can't imagine

You leaned your arm against the window, and stoically watched the girl lean back into her chair. Atsumu did the opposite, and leaned forward. 

How you could be so okay now that I'm gone

He kissed the girl, and suddenly, you couldn’t hear anything. Not the soft music playing in your car, nor the buzzing of the street light. The only thing you heard was ringing, an alarm telling you your time was up. Vision filling with tears, the same taste from the last incident filled your mouth.

I guess you didn't mean what you wrote in that song about me

Just like last time, you pulled off the curb, but Atsumu and the girl were too entranced with each other to notice. The joints on your knuckles turned white from your too tight grip on the wheel, and your eyes stung. You drove as fast as you could to nowhere.

'Cause you said forever, now I drive alone past your street

Every morning while driving to school, you had to drive past his house. Involuntarily, your grip around the steering wheel always tightened when you passed the sign, and you would relax after you had passed it.

Red lights, stop signs

In his car, you’d always play red light games, seeing who could memorize the most license plates from the last light, or who had the stupidest bumper sticker. When driving, you hated the red lights, you hated every second that you had to wait for them to turn green, every second that reminded you of the tragedy you had witnessed in this very seat.

I still see your face in the white cars, front yards

Every white vehicle that passed by reminded you of him and his car. Regardless if it was a sports car or not, you always watched it until it passed out of your sight and turned the street’s corner, because you had to hope that maybe it was Atsumu, coming back to you.

Can't drive past the places we used to go to

You tried to sit down at the children’s park, at the top of the slide, another one of your safe spaces. It felt empty without your best friend at your side, and that same day, you saw Atsumu and the girl walking towards it. How could he have done that? How could he have the sacred space that you two had shared since you were kids with this outsider, because that’s all she would ever be to you. Needless to say, you left quickly, before you could be seen, and didn’t come back to the park again.

'Cause I still fuckin' love you, babe 

It was so painfully obvious that you were in love with Atsumu, that you still were. Everytime his name was mentioned, a salty look crossed your face, and you made a great effort to change the topic, taking leaps and bounds to avoid him, and when you could, ignoring him in favor of talking to Aran and Osamu.

Sidewalks we crossed

Even getting drinks at the 7-Eleven was painful. Every crosswalk and curb had a story revolving around the two of you, your entire friendship’s history could be traced here, and now, it was all gone with no one to remember it, because Atsumu had found someone else, and you were left in too much pain to even try.

I still hear your voice in the traffic

As you walked, you touched every light pole and stopped at every spot on the sidewalk that you had a memory on. You reaccounted the stories, the memories, the past, and tried to get lost in the good so you could push away the bad.

We're laughing over all the noise

Noise coming from a group of young teens, probably first years, entered your ears. It was loud, boisterous laughter, the type that you and Atsumu had shared outside this very 7-Eleven over the course of many years.

God, I'm so blue, know we're through

And as you walked into the small store and filled your Slurpee, you looked down at the tiled floor, a stain from where Atsumu had accidentally opened and spilled an entire hair dye packet. The dread that you had been suppressing came back in a wave, crashing over you.

But I still fuckin' love you, babe 

You exited the store with your Slurpee, drinking it slowly through the straw. The walk from the parking lot to the sidewalk felt longer than it ever had, even though it was only five seconds. Too many memories in this very place, and not nearly enough time.

I know we weren't perfect

What had you done wrong? It must have been something, because good things happen to people who do things right. If you do things right, you’ll get what you want, always, right?

But I've never felt this way for no one

But you hadn’t calculated for one factor: The perfect girl with the perfect life. The girl who had everything you didn’t, who was everything you were not. And even though you had done everything correct, she had ruined everything.

And I just can't imagine

Walking home, you stopped briefly at Atsumu’s street sign like you always did when walking this way, but unlike the other days, you had never thought of going back. It had always seemed like an impossible option for you, too much to bear for your fragile mind.

How you could be so okay now that I'm gone

Your hands shook as you held your Slurpee in your hands, either from the coldness around you or from the tears that threatened to ruin you. You didn’t get cold often, so of course you knew the answer to that question. 

Guess you didn't mean what you wrote in that song about me

Looking down the street you saw the same porch light on, and the same sounds and smells you always got when you had passed by in recent times: Loud laughter and menthol. 

'Cause you said forever, now I drive alone past your street

You wished that you had told him “yes” that night at the sleepover. Maybe you could have avoided the heartbreak, and maybe he could have too, but all you had told him was that you’d be friends no matter what, too scared to tell him that you were most definitely in love with him. Or maybe you didn’t know, a childish mind unable to identify the feeling. It didn’t matter now, all you and he had done was stick out your pinkies to solidify the promise- “Friends forever.”

Yeah, you said forever, now I drive alone past your street

You crossed the street, traveling away from the laughter and menthol, away from your supposed forever, and didn’t look back.

[maysbanks]

hypersonic missiles. (jj maybank)

hello ! some of you may recognise this fic and that’s bc it’s currently being rewritten as an oc fic rather than a reader insert fic which it was before. i can’t wait for you to read this and introduce you all to haley who i love dearly, so pls enjoy and lemme know what you think !!

warnings: swearing, mention of sex, sexual innuendos, drug use, underage drinking, violence etc

summary: after the death of her father, haley grubbs is determined to get the answers her mother seems to be keeping from her, seeking help from a group of pogues (which just happens to include her weekly hook-up) and unknowingly throwing herself into the midst of a treasure hunt.

( gif isn't mine! please let me know if it's yours so i can credit you. )

The gang gathered around John B's porch, spaced out in various positions amongst the furniture. Silence engulfed the group, the air thick with tension as none of the four teenagers dared to speak.

"JJ should be the one to go." Kie broke the silence, her words hanging in the air as the group processed them.

Said boy whipped around in his place, golden hair falling in his sea blue eyes as they widened, glancing wildly between each of his friends. "What?" He demanded. "Why me?"

"Because you're the one that's hooking up with her," Pope reminded, matter of fact. As if JJ needed to be reminded. The dark skinned boy gestured between him and the remaining two. "She's gonna trust you more than any of us."

Kiara and John B murmured their agreement, JJ scoffing as he flapped his arms, beginning to pace in his spot. "This is ridiculous," he muttered between gritted teeth. "She won't wanna talk to me any more than she'll want to talk to you guys. I mean, we've only hooked up like," JJ paused - raising a hand to count on his fingers. "Maybe like, eleven times, twelve at a push!"

Kiara scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Wow, how chivalrous of you to keep count, JJ," she drawled sarcastically, the blonde boy simply shrugging in return as he took his formal position of leaning against the Chateau's wall. "Look, the thing is you know her better than the rest of us. You're familiar, we're not. We can't just go up to her and start asking questions about her dead dad and John B's compass."

JJ stared in disbelief. "And you think I can?" He shook his head, running a hand through his hair. "I don't know if you guys realise this, but hooking up doesn't really require much talking. I barely know her."

"But you know her enough to warm her bed every week," John B piped up, narrowing his eyes at his best friend. JJ sighed, lighting a fresh blunt as he refused to meet any of the gang's eyes, staring ahead. John B stepped over and beside the blonde, arm thrown over his shoulder. "We need answers, JJ. Answers she could have. I mean, it was her dad right? She must know something about why he had my dad's compass."

JJ nodded along, but the uncertain feeling bubbling in his chest didn't cease. Thoughts of the two men that had chased the group the day before, guns blazing, entered his mind. Then the memory of him and John B showing up at the Grubbs' residence, only to discover they had been beaten to it by the very same men - he'd heard them threaten Lana and Haley Grubbs, demanding questions about the same compass that lay heavy in John B's pockets. He knew his best friend deserved answers, why did Scooter Grubbs have Big John's compass the night he died? Why was Scooter Grubbs out in the storm that night anyway? Hell, even JJ wanted answers. But he couldn't shake the doubtful feeling, thoughts of Haley Grubbs swirling in his head.

"I don't think this is a good idea." He tried once more, voice small and defeated. The Pogues shared a glance, and he knew they'd already come to a decision. Sighing, he flicked the butt of his blunt, sending it flying in the opposite direction. "Fine, I'll go talk to her. But I'm not making any promises that she'll talk," he frowned. "Sometimes I kinda get the feeling she doesn't like me."

Kie snorted. "I wonder why."

What the gang hadn't bargained for, however, was that the same person who'd they been talking about was already on their way to them - boots stomping across the ground in a determined stride, their mind a whirlwind of series of memories, scenarios, and all the events that had happened in the last twenty four hours.

Haley wanted answers, and she wanted them soon. (Sooner rather than later, if she was being precise.) The series of misfortunes events had all begun with the disappearance of her father - for whatever reason, he'd gone out in the storm that raged against the Outer Banks the night prior, and that, unsurprisingly, had led to his death. Memories of his body, washed up on the shore, cold and blue, eyes open but completely lifeless as they stared up at nothing and everything at the same time. Her heart wrenched at the sight, and she still hadn't been able to get the scene out of your head - her mother breaking down in a heap of sobs, Haley’s body following along with her as the pair both held each other and cried, Sheriff Peterkin's voice echoing in Haley’s mind, over and over again, like a siren. “I'm so sorry. There's nothing we could have done."

Haley knew that, of course. But it didn't explain why he was out in the storm in the first place. She had tried to question her mother, because she knew her dad wasn't a fool. Storm Agatha had been reported for weeks following up to it, he'd even made off-handed comments about it over dinner a couple of times. Her dad was aware about the storm, but had still risked his life (and coincidentally, ended it) to take a boat ride, or so that's what her mother told you.

Bull-fucking-shit. Haley knew there was more to the story, the appearance of two men breaking down her door and trashing her whole house was enough proof of that. And the fact that they were asking about a compass, of all things, didn't sit right in Haley’s gut either. Why the hell would two thugs want a compass, and why would her dad have it anyway? To her knowledge, her dad had never owned a compass in his damned life. (He also never owned a boat, which raised the suspicion of how the hell had he even gone out on a boat ride in the first place.) But the pair were persistent, and she was forced to watch as they threatened her and her mom, their last words sticking with her, sending a shiver of dread up her spine every time they echoed in her head; “We'll be back."

It was something straight out of a king-pin movie, and yet Lana Grubbs still wouldn't talk. She knew something, Haley knew it, and why she wouldn't share whatever information she knew with Haley was beyond frustrating - so she decided, fuck it. If her mother wasn't gonna give her her answers, then she was gonna go out and find them herself. Starting with John B. Routledge.

As if things couldn't have gotten any weirder, the teenaged boy had shown up not a minute after the two guys had left, appearing in Haley’s not-so-much of a doorway with the exact thing the thugs were after: the Compass. To her chargin, she hadn't had time to ask any questions though, her mother was quick to dismiss him (and JJ Maybank of all people, but she didn't really want to think about him at the moment) and warned him not to let anyone know that he had the compass, and Haley could see why - those guys were not to be messed with.

And so, John B. Routledge had left the Grubbs’ home, JJ Maybank in tow, and Haley was left to clean up the mess the bastards had left behind them. Her mothers warning rang in her ears; "Stay away from them boys. Do not get involved in this, Hales.” But alas, there she was, storming towards the property she knew the guys would be. Her mother didn't know, of course, and she was determined to make sure Lana never did. (Haley would be the next person she'd be burying if she ever did find it.)

All Haley wanted was answers, and if John B had even a couple, she was going to find them out. Her father had died, and there was more to the story than anyone was letting on. If it was up to her to piece the puzzle together, then so be it. She would, gladly.

So she marched in the direction of the Routledge residence, more determined than ever. As she walked, people gave her pitying looks, obviously recognising her as Scooter Grubbs’ daughter (the newfound bastard of the Outer Banks, sarcasm intended.) and she simply ignored each and every one of them. She didn’t need them, she thought. She was going to find out the truth, and each step Haley took she was closer to uncovering it all. Some people walked towards her as if to stop and talk, probably attempting to give her some kind of condolence, but each time a person did she hurried her pace; she couldn’t be stopped now, she was too close to getting where she wanted to be for some middle-aged folk tell her they were sorry about her loss, even though they couldn’t have cared less about her dad when he was alive.

Fucking bullshit, she thought.

Haley’s stride slowed however, when a familiar looking van made it's way into her vision, memories of it parked outside the very same house she was planning on going running through her already overactive mind. Her stomach churned, thinking she had missed her chance to interrogate the poor unsuspecting boy, before it seemed to slow down and pulled up to right where she was standing on the curb. Her respectively plucked eyebrows raised as the window rolled down, revealing none other than John B sat in the drivers seat, Kiara Carrera in the passenger, and Pope Heyward's and JJ's heads peering around the pair from the back of the van.

John B leaned out, his mop of wavy brown hair entering Haley’s brown eyed gaze, tight smile on his lips. "Haley,” he greeted. “Hey, where are you off to? Need a ride?"

"Actually," Haley drawled as she stepped closer, right arm leaning on the window as she sent a forced smile the teenaged boys way. “I was just heading over to yours. What a coincidence, huh?"

She never missed the look Kiara shot the two guys seated in the back, all of their eyes seemingly communicating in their own weird little telepathical way. John B blinked, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water for a few seconds before he seemed to compose himself, clearing his throat. "Oh, really?" He asked, as naturally as he could. (It wasn't very natural at all.) “How, uh, how come?"

"Oh, you know," Haley started, shrugging a shoulder nonchalantly. "Just thought I'd pay you a visit, y'know, like the one you paid me this morning. Remember that?" She asked as innocently as she could manage. (It wasn't very innocent at all.) “Just wanted to ask you a few questions, s'all. Like why you have the one thing those meatheads that trashed my house were after. How you got hold of it, stuff like that."

And then she smiled like they were all sharing a perfectly civil conversation, as if the underlying threatening tone in her voice didn't exist at all. John B sighed, his head turning towards the rest of the group, catching their eyes and seeming to have another one of their telepathic conversations before he turned back to her figure, his head nodding towards the back of his infamous Volkswagen.

"Get in the back," he said - and she did, shooting him a smile that resembled one of a Cheshire Cat, satisfied as she moved to the other side, walking around the van and hearing him mutter from inside, "What? This is the perfect opportunity to ask her." She didn't need to look to know the rest of the gang were probably objecting her presence, but she couldn't care less. This was just the first step to getting what she wanted.

The door to the van was pulled open from the inside, JJ's head popping out and thrusting a hand out towards her to help her climb into the vehicle. Haley swiftly ignored the gesture, missing the flash of confusion and offence that appeared on the blonde's face, climbing into the van and seating herself beside Pope who smiled rather awkwardly toward her.

"I'm, uh, sorry about your dad," he said softly, fidgeting under her gaze. She smiled slightly at him in return, lips quirking more so in amusement at his obvious discomfort at either having her join them, or her being seated so close to him.

"Yeah, me too," Kiara piped up from the passenger seat, glancing over her shoulder towards her. "It must really suck, to just lose him like that."

Haley nodded, head turning in the direction of where JJ sat across from her, rubbing the back of his head as he muttered quietly, "Yeah, I'm sorry too." before averting his eyes when she looked at him, raising her eyebrows.

Kiara ignored him, the awkward silence that presented itself to the pedestrians inside the van only lasting a couple of seconds as she spoke up again. "I can't imagine what you and your mom are going through," she said, soft brown eyes darting to John B quickly before they returned to catch Haley’s once more. "We're always here if you need anything. Pogue's look out for each other, right?"

Haley forced a small smile, not bothering to bring up the fact that Kiara was technically not a Pogue, seeing no point in the matter as she sent her a small nod of appreciation, silently grateful for her words. Haley had always liked Kiara, or Kie, as she was more commonly known as. She had spent many times sat around a fire with her, listening to her rants about the environment and what everyone could do to help it, as an infamous Pogue kegger loomed around them. Haley was grateful for her presence amongst the guys, unsure of the fact that if she wasn't there, she probably wouldn't have entered the van. She was determined, but she also wasn’t stupid. Despite knowing the guys well and practically all her life, (it’s a small town kinda thing), she would never willingly get in a van with them and let them drive her to an unknown destination. Which reminded her suddenly - where the hell were they going?

"We're lucky we got each other, I guess," Haley said in relation to Kie's words. Kie nodded as her eyes darted to John B again. "But thanks, I really appreciate it." She fiddled with the hem of her faded out jean shorts, her next words directed towards John B. "So, care to tell me where we're going? Or better yet, why you have the damned compass my house was trashed for."

Silence filled the air of the Volkswagen. It was suffocating, the air thick with unspoken tension as everybody refused to meet her eyes. Haley was beyond frustrated, incredibly so, and she made a point to catch John B's eyes in the rearview mirror, an eyebrow quirking as she awaited an answer.

Finally, he sighed.

"The compass was my dads," John B revealed. Haley’s mouth opened in shock for a second before she clamped it back shut. "And for whatever reason, your dad had it. We uh, we found it at the wreck of your dads boat yesterday."

"Wait, what?" She demanded, blinking. She glanced between the gang, eyes accusing as she held each of theirs. "You guys found the wreck? And you didn't tell anyone?" She questioned, tone dangerously low. "And you stole from it?"

"It's not technically stealing if it was his compass," JJ defended, shrugging. Haley shot him a glare, feeling a bubble of irritation build deep in her gut. "And anyways, we tried to tell the coastguard about it after we first found it, but the guy was having none of it. They were hounded with the storm."

Her eyes narrowed. "First found it? Exactly how many times have you guys been at the wreck?" She demanded, tone accusatory.

The gang all swivelled to send JJ their own respected glares, Pope's voice small from beside her as he tried to explain. "Only a couple," he started, startling as her head whipped around towards him. "We're really sorry, okay! We didn't know it was your dads when we first found it, if we did, we wouldn't have snooped in his room either!"

Pope seemed to make note of his mistake as the rest of the gang did, Kie letting out a little frustrated groan from the back of her throat as JJ cringed, pointedly avoiding Haley’s gaze. John B's hands gripped the steering wheel tight, a warning "Pope" leaving his mouth.

Haley laughed, though it held no humour. She clasped her hands together, the slap of her palms meeting echoing in the confine space. "Let me get this straight, you guys not only found the wreck of my dads boat and didn't tell anyone about it, but also obviously found where he was staying and snooped in his room," she listed, feeling the familiar build of rage pulse through her body. “I mean, what the fuck you guys?"

"We're sorry," Kiara turned in her seat, meeting the Grubbs’ girl angered gaze. "We swear, if we had any idea it was your dad we wouldn't have. We were just, curious, I guess. We found the key on the boat when Pope first spotted it in the marsh, and before we even snooped we tried to tell the coastguard, but like JJ said, they weren't interested. So, John B and JJ went to look in the room."

Haley sighed heavily, leaning her head back to rest against the wall of the van. She tried to tell herself to calm down - hell, she probably would have done the same thing if it was her in their position, she couldn't get mad at them over that. "And did you guys find anything?" She asked quietly, the gang seemingly relaxing as they recognised her calmer tone of voice.

"Did we find anything?" JJ snorted as he repeated her words, grin falling from his lips at the glares the rest of his friends shot him. Haley sat up straighter, taking note of their warning glances. JJ awkwardly coughed, rubbing the back of his neck as he once again avoided her honey coated eyes. "Uh, not really."

"Not really?" She asked, frown on her plump lips. JJ nodded, tongue darting out to wet his pink lips, uncharacteristically quiet once more. "Okay, what the hell is going on? And no more bullshitting me, I've had enough of that from everyone else for the past forty eight hours. I came to you for answers, I'm not going anywhere without them."

She looked to John B then, hoping, pleading, that he would understand. He'd lost his dad too, nine months ago, supposedly lost at sea, believed to be dead. Haley knew he never believed that though, refusing to agree that his father was dead, insisting that he was simply missing. If there was one person that could understand her need to know about her dad, it was John B. And he knew it too, as he sighed and nodded.

"There was a safe," he started as she listened intently. "There was money inside it, I don't know how much. The cops kinda showed up when we were in there," he admitted sheepishly. "We had to hide before we could count it or anything. But there was also, um, a gun in the safe too."

"A gun?" Haley deadpanned. John B raised his eyes and caught hers, nodding. Haley scoffed in disbelief, running a hand through her almost waist length hair. "Why the hell would my dad have a gun?"

"Um, there's something else you should probably know," JJ blurted. "I kinda, uh, took it."

The Pogues glared at him again, Kie spitting a warning of his name, but the blonde just looked at the girl seated in front of him. Her eyes widened as he brandished the piece of metal, black in colour and daunting in shape. Of fucking course JJ Maybank had stolen her dads gun, she thought. It was so... JJ.

"You stole that from a crime scene?" She sputtered, heart squeezing uncomfortably in her chest as she eyed the object with disdain. JJ nodded, looking almost guilty. "My dads crime scene? What the fuck JJ? Do you realise how much trouble you could get into from taking that? For having that?"

Haley was unsure as to why she seemed to care so much about that, rather than the fact that he'd taken it from her dads motel room, and that the gun was technically her fathers. She didn't want to ponder too much about that, though, there was bigger fish to fry in that moment.

"Sorry," he said, rather dumbly. "You can have it, if you want?"

She stared at him incredulously as he held the gun out towards her, quickly shoving it away from her body as she shook her head forcefully. "What the fuck would I want with a gun, JJ?" Haley demanded. The blonde boy shrugged, suddenly sheepish.

"It was your dads," he stated simply. From the corner of her vision she could see Pope sending him a wild look, brown eyes blown wide as he tried to be subtle and shake his head at his friend, silently warning him to shut the hell up, or so she presumed. "I just thought, y'know-"

"You thought wrong, JJ," Haley interrupted him before he could continue. His eyebrows furrowed as he noted her hostile tone, but let it go as he simply nodded, swallowing thickly when she turned away from him. “So, what happened, after the motel room?"

John B looked glad to be back on the original topic. "Well, it wasn't long after that we found it was your dad. We were gonna tell the police, but uh, we had this crazy idea that there might have been more on the boat, like money or something? I don't know, we just thought-"

"Your dad might've been a straight smuggler," Pope piped up. Haley’s glare made him shrink in his spot. "Sorry, sorry. Not the time, I get it."

"Right," John B said curtly as Kie groaned softly. "So we went to look again, and I found a duffel bag. The marsh was closed, obviously. But we weren't the only ones out there," his voice turned deadly serious. “After I got it, these two guys appeared on a boat. The same two guys that were at your place earlier."

Haley exhaled shakily at the information, memories of the two men entering her mind unwelcoming. The image of them carelessly tearing apart her house, screaming threats at her and her mother, gun held to her temple as their fists left holes in the walls and bruises on her mothers skin. She shuddered and hoped the rest of the gang hadn't noticed, but she could see the pity in John B's eyes as they reconnected with her own.

"They chased after us, and they were shooting at us too. We managed to escape them, and when we got back on land I looked in the bag, and all that was in it was the compass. My dads compass. It's a Routledge family heirloom, and your dad had it."

His tone held accusatory, though she couldn't blame him for it. It was a mystery to even her as to why or how her father had gotten hold of the compass, and she knew John B wanted answers just as much as she did. Haley felt almost guilty that she couldn't give him any as she spoke up, “I didn't know anything about it, I swear. The first time I've even heard of it was today when those guys showed up. I'm sorry, John B."

Said boy nodded, seemingly believing her as he sent a small smile her way, reassuring her. “Anyways, that's why me and JJ went to your place, I just wanted to know if maybe you or your mom knew anything about it or why your dad had it," he shrugged a shoulder, trying to come off as non-chalant. "And that's when we saw those guys again. I'm sorry about that, by the way."

She shrugged too, an expression of what-you-gonna-do on her face. Though she desperately wanted to know more about the compass, and why it could be so important to the thugs, she withheld her questions for the moment, deciding they could come later.

"And then they arrived at mine," John B revealed. Haley’s yes widened in surprise at the sudden revelation, churning of fear twisting at her gut. "They did the exact same at my place that they did to yours; tore the whole place apart, looking the compass I guess."

JJ burst then - Haley jumped as his voice echoed in the van, much more louder than what John B's had been, excitement lacing his tone as he began to recite the story of the two thugs and their mission of tearing John B's poor beloved Chateau apart, hands gesturing wildly around him.

"Yeah, they were fucking crazy man! We were all locked in Big John's office, no way out apart from the window that was fucking painted shut. We could hear them, taunting us, y'know. Like, 'you better not be in there', they even knew John B's name!" JJ rambled, excitable expression painted on his boyish features. "They come in, guns-a-blazing and we're all tryna figure out how the hell to get out of there, before we finally manage to open the window and hide in the fucking chicken coop of all places. It was fucking insane, man. I had to kill a hen just so we could make it out alive."

Haley blinked at that, her jaw dropping slightly as she tried to process all the information he'd thrown at her all within a minute. JJ calmed down from his passionate retale, chest heaving slightly as he took in her dazed expression, sea blue eyes catching hers and holding them. Kiara said his name in a warning tone from the passenger seat, and he snapped out of his stare-off with the olive skinned girl, but she was still looking at him in disbelief.

"That's basically it," John B said from the front of the van, though his face held a slight grimace at his best friends rather dramatic recite. "But yeah, they practically stripped my dads office bare. They took everything, all of his books, research, everything about the Royal Merchant."

If anybody had noticed her sudden stiff posture at the mention of the Merchant, they never spoke on it. The Royal Merchant. Something Haley was all too familiar with. It had been something of a fascination to her father for a while, especially in the weeks leading up to his death. She just thought it was a weird hobby, a strange interest of his that she never really thought much of. It was nice to see her dad passionate about something, she’d thought. No matter how strange she believed it to be, he had a hobby and she was happy for him. But, sitting in the back of John B. Routledge's van, surrounded by a group of teenaged Pogues, one of which she was were all too familiar with, to put it simply, her throat tightened.

Surely the Royal Merchant couldn't have had anything to do with her dad, right? She was just thinking too much, more than likely. But something in the back of her mind was nagging, unforgiving as the thoughts whirled in her head.

"But before the guys showed up, we found something," she focused back her attention as John B continued. "There's something engraved on the compass. Redfield. It's my dads handwriting, he must have put it there for me, before he disappeared."

Haley shared a glance with JJ as John B said the word. Disappeared. Ever the hopeful, yearning boy. She couldn't doubt his wish, she wished for nothing more for her dad to appear back in her life - but she knew that hers was dead, officially. How could she forget, she saw his lifeless eyes every time she closed hers.

But John B didn't have that, he never knew, really, if his father was truly dead or alive. The records said so, but he'd refused to sign them, or so she heard. He was still hopeful, so certain that his dad would just appear back at the Chateau one day, like he'd never disappeared in the first place. But Haley - and many others - were realistic, and the reality was there was very little to no chance that Big John Routledge was alive.

(Her heart broke for the boy.)

She tuned out the rest of the conversation for the remainder of the drive, her head leaning back on the cool metal of the wall as she closed her eyes and allowed her mind to wander with all the possibilities. Could the Royal Merchant really have been a factor in her dads death? She couldn't shake the feeling, as she could hear vaguely the conversation of the gang. John B insisting that his dad was leading him on a mission, Kiara trying to be supportive but anyone could pick up on the doubt in her voice, Pope piping up with rather unhelpful scenarios like Big John having been kidnapped, (Haley had rolled her eyes), and JJ adding his input, multitasking with rolling a blunt. (She’d rolled her eyes harder.)

The thing was, Haley and the Maybank boy had a little deal going on. She could remember the exact day it had begun, at an infamous Pogue kegger, the sun having set and leaving the sky coloured in perfect hues of pink, purple and yellow. It had been a beautiful night, she had to admit. The party had gone strong to the early hours of the morning, and she’d somehow found herself leaving with JJ Maybank. He'd approached her after she witnessed him striking out with a Touron, (surprisingly), eyes narrowing at her when she’d let out a giggle at his misfortune. He had been hostile at first, demanding what she was laughing at, grinning slightly when she informed him simply 'you'.

The rest of the night had been spent in each others company, and Haley could recall the exact moment where they were dancing closely, bodies pressed tight against each other, her arms thrown over his shoulders and wrapped around his neck, his own around her waist, fingers digging into her hips. Their breath mingled together, his forehead leaning against her own, and she’d expected the moment his lips fell on herd, slightly chapped but impossibly soft against her own as they danced in a passionate embrace that secretly took her breath away. She’d let him lead her to John B's Chateau across the beach, hand gripped in one another’s, as he pressed her to every surface until they managed to stumble their way into the spare bedroom.

She had told herself the next morning that it would only be a one time thing. Haley wasn’t one for random hook-ups, not that no one had tried to coax her into one. She was kinda known amongst the island as being this untouchable, obtainable person that nobody could ever get close to. She wasn’t sure what it was about her that made everyone label her as this being - maybe it was the fact that she was a loner and didn’t stick to one friendship group and spent most of her time to herself, maybe it was the fact that people thought she was weird because her dad was known to be such a loser (God rest his soul), or maybe it was the fact that she skateboarded around town morning till dawn, earphones plugged in and music blasting so loud that passerby’s could hear every word clearly.

The point was, she wasn’t known for getting close to anyone. And yet, she had found herself drifting back to JJ Maybank many other nights after that first one, and that’s where their little deal came into play.

But that's where it began, and also where it ended. Hers and JJ's relationship (if you could even call it that) never went beyond that. Random hook-ups here and there, whenever JJ struck out with a Touron and found himself soughting Haley out amongst the crowd to fill the space in his bed. Of course they were always friendly with each other, they’d known each other for so long, that it would have been silly not to continue being friendly. But they never hung out, not with his group, not with him alone apart from their many nights of endeavours, until now, she supposed. She thought it might have been weird, and she thought correct. Neither of them really looked at each other head-on, the air awkward and thick as the driving continued.

Haley was thankful when John B seemed to finally arrive at his destination, and she leaned forward with Pope to glance out the window, spotting the tall lighthouse stood proud in front of the group. Redfield, the name was written boldly on display.

"Redfield Lighthouse," John B spoke. "My dads favourite place."

She clambered from the van as the rest of the guys did, gazing up at the high building with her hand shielding her eyes from the bright sun from where they all gathered at the clearing. John B turned to face JJ. "Right, you're gonna post up and look out for bogeys, okay?"

JJ's eyebrows furrowed as he demanded, "Wait, why me?" His expression only darkened when Pope informed he wasn't to go in the Lighthouse, Haley watching from the sidelines, unsure where to put herseld in the situation. "Why?" He continued to argue.

Pope grabbed hold of JJ's shoulders. "There are independent and dependent variables, you're an independent variable-" he tried to explain but was quickly cut off as JJ began to yell over his words. "We don't know what you'll do!"

"Shut up!"

Haley awkwardly scuffed her boots on the ground as Kiara sent her a small smile from ahead of the boys, rolling her eyes dramatically when Haley caught them. She smiled at the gesture, once again appreciative of her presence. "Listen to me for a second," John B cut in their argument, stepping forward. "Pope, you stand look out with JJ, okay?" The pair in questioned seemed reluctant, but both nodded at John B's persistent glare. The tall brunette turned to her next, gaze softening immensely when he caught sight of her uncertain posture. "Do you mind keeping an eye out here?"

She shook your head immediately, sending him a reassuring nod. "Yeah, sure. That's fine by me. Heights aren't really my thing anyway," she told him as she looked up at the Lighthouse, nausea hitting at a slight force when she stared at the very top of the building amongst the blue sky. "Yeah, I'm good here."

He nodded back at her, a thankful smile on his lips. "If we split up, we meet back at JJ's house." He spoke, directing the words to the whole group. They all nodded their agreement.

"Great." Kie finalised, shooting Haley one last small smile before her and John B began to walk off, jumping the small fence that blocked their path, their stride quickly entering them into the lighthouse. Haley exhaled as they disappeared into the door, and moved her gaze to return on the two boys she was stuck with.

"I'm gonna work on my merit scholarship essay." Pope informed, before he turned and entered back into the van, leaving her and JJ stood on the outside of it, alone and deadly quiet. She looked at the golden haired boy as he pulled out a happy sack from his pocket, beginning to kick it around with his booted foot.

Haley sighed as she leaned on the passenger side door, her teeth biting down on her watermelon flavoured chapstick covered lip as she stared at the grass beneath her feet, her mind racing. A thud caught her attention and she glanced in the direction of where it had come from, a happy sack laying at her feet. She looked back up to JJ, who sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. "Um, sorry about that."

She huffed out a small laugh, bending down and snatching the sack from the floor. "You don't have to apologise to me JJ," she said softly. Throwing the sack back to him, his large hands reached out and cupped it, bringing it back to his chest. “I'm sorry about this, y'know, gatecrashing your friends' little adventure."

JJ's lips quirked, his muscular arm reaching back and throwing the sack into the air, Haley catching it and holding his eyes. "You're not gatecrashing anything," he assured. In the sunlight, his skin cast a golden glow. "And 'sides you deserve to be here. You're looking for just as much answers as John B is."

"I'm not sure about that," Haley told him and threw the sack to him. "I mean, I'm looking for answers, of course. That's why I'm here. But I'm pretty sure John B needs them more than I do," she glanced at the lighthouse momentarily. "I know what happened to my dad, pretty much. He died while being out in the storm, I know that, I just don't know why he was out in the storm or what he was even up to in the weeks leading up to it. John B doesn't even know for sure if his dad is dead or alive." She shuddered at the thought, shaking her head. "He deserves answers way more than me."

JJ nodded, tongue pressed to the inside of his cheek as he paused in throwing the sack back towards her, looking at her small figure thoughtfully. "Do you think they could be connected?" He asked suddenly. Haley stared at him, confusion painted on her face. "Your dads, I mean. Yours and John B's. Do you think they could be connected, like your dads death and JB's dads disappearance?"

She stopped. Could they be, really? She had to admit she thought about it in the van on the journey there, but as quickly as it came it passed. To her knowledge, her dad and Big John didn't really know each other - of course they knew each other, but they didn't mix, or so she believed. But her mind replayed the moment John B mentioned the Royal Merchant, the way her stomach had filled with dread immediately, and she had the sinking feeling that it was very possible that what JJ was hinting at could be true.

"I don't know, maybe," she said instead, not wanting to voice her thoughts. JJ nodded thoughtfully, finally throwing her the sack back. She caught it, and repeated the process back to him again.

"I am sorry, though. About your dad," JJ's voice was soft, careful as he watched her pause, taking in his words. "I was gonna say more before, but with the guys... I know how much he meant to you."

Haley smiled gently, a sudden flutter in her chest alarming her as she nodded appreciatively at his words. "Thank you, JJ," she said quietly, sincerely. "It means a lot."

JJ nodded too, chapped lips pulling into an uncertain half-grin. "And I just wanted to say as well, that uh, I don't want things to be like, weird between us or anything," he stated awkwardly, clearing his throat. Haley almost laughed at the look on his face. "I mean, like, with us hooking up and stuff-"

"It won't be weird," Haley quickly interrupted him, grin overtaking the features of her face despite her better thoughts. "It was just hooking up, right? Not like we're exes or anything. No need to make it weird."

"Right," JJ voiced his agreement. Head full of long blonde locks nodding along at her words, dimples winking at her as they made an appearance in his cheeks when he smiled. "Not making it weird. Here's to that."

She laughed as the happy sack landed in her hands, holding it there as she squinted in the sun, grin cheeky as she gazed at him from her small distance. "Yeah, we'll just have to pretend we've never seen each other naked." She joked as she finally threw him his toy back.

The golden haired boy returned her smile, eyes mischievous as they made a show to glance at her figure from head to toe. "Trust me, I'll have to pretend a lot more beyond that to stay civil."

And before she could even think to voice her thoughts of Fuck, how did that almost kinda turn you on, a sudden and loud blare of a familiar siren startled, Haley’s and JJ's eyes widening as they met, a panicked expression matching in their features.

"Shit!" Haley uttered as JJ dropped the happy sack, her head turning to catch sight of the impending police car making its way towards where they were parked. She quickly glanced to the lighthouse, her heart dropping when she saw no sign of John B or Kiara, JJ grabbing her by the arm suddenly and practically dragging her into the van in the passenger seat, him running to occupy the drivers as Pope's head popped up between the seats, questioning them both erratically. She could give him no answers however, having no idea what had prompted the police to arrive. Haley had no time to think about what could have happened as JJ slammed his foot down, peeling out of the grassy area and away from the scene. "What about John B and Kie?"

"They'll be fine," JJ assured her, though they were empty words. He had no clue what had happened either, or if his friends would make it out and away from the lighthouse in time, but he still reached over and squeezed Haley’s knee gently when he saw her worried look. He caught her gaze and held it. "They'll be fine."

She could only hope that was true.

It was hours later when Haley and the Pogues gathered around John B's kitchen table, deadly silent as everyone processed what had just transpired.

She’d had JJ and Pope drop her off at home after escaping the police at the lighthouse, aware that she had been gone a long while and her mother was probably sick with worry by that point. If she wasn’t home within the hour, Haley had no doubt that she would have the police patrolling the streets, searching for her. When she toldthe boys this, they chuckled as she ordered them to park around the corner from her home, not wanting her mother to spot her leaving the van. She’d told them to call her when they heard from either John or Kiara, and they'd both agreed as she climbed from the van and walked the familiar path to her house.

Sure enough, Lana practically collapsed into her when she’d entered. Her arms were wrapped around Haley so tightly as they squeezed all the air out of her lungs, her mothers voice in her ear a jumbled mess of words laced in a frantic tone. Haley assured her she was fine, that no harm was done, and that she had just gone for a walk around the Outer Banks. Lana seemed hesitant, but had allowed Haley to ease her worries as she led her towards the couch and sat her down, letting her mom hold her for as long as she needed to assure her mind that she were really okay.

Haley felt almost bad, seeing her in such a panicked state. But then she remembered if she had just answered her questions truthfully instead of hiding everything from her than she wouldn't be sneaking around in the first place. And then the guilt subsided, if only a little. (Haley still felt awful.)

It was a couple of hours after that when a knock had sounded on her bedroom window. She had startled, her heart racing as she wondered who the hell could be knocking on her window, at night, too. She almost very nearly didn't go towards it, in fear of the two faces of the men from earlier that day greeting her, but she’d exhaled a sigh of relief when her eyes landed on the face of JJ Maybank.

"Care for a late night drive?" He'd asked, and she’d rolled her eyes. His grin never faltered as he watched her put on her boots, checking in on her mother and determining if the coast was clear to sneak out, before she’d climbed from her window, thankful that the house was only one story as she did so. Despite that fact, JJ's hands still gripped her hips as he helped her (though he didn't have to) down from the window.

She’d felt instant relief when she spotted Kiara and John B sat in the van, having resumed their earlier positions. Kie grinned at her as she got in the back along with JJ and Pope, who smiled at her also, as Haley began to question the both of them on what had happened after they’d fled the scene.

They'd been caught, of course. But they'd also been released, and that was the main thing. Haley decided to focus on the positives as John B drove them all off, this time to a cemetery of all places - leading the way towards a specific grave that he informed them all was his great-great grandmother, Olivia Redfield. Her maiden name, apparently.

And of fucking course inside that crypt was a white FedEx envelope, addressed to Bird, which they would later discover was actually John B's nickname given to him by his dad, who'd actually left the envelope there - hoping one day that his son would find it. (Because of fucking course Big John would do that.)

The pieces to the puzzle were all coming together, bit by it, slowly but surely. They’d all returned to the Chateau upon the discovery of the envelope, which contained a map, the sight very familiar. (The Royal Merchant, of fucking course it was.) And there was a very obvious X displayed on it too, X marks the spot. Along with that, a tape recorder fell into the palm of John B's hand.

"Dear Bird," the voice had started, vaguely familiar to Haley’s ears. There was no question as to who the voice belonged to - Big John Routledge was speaking directly into the room, all five teenagers gathered around listening intently. "I didn't expect to find the Merchant either."

Haley’s eyes widened to the size of saucers, her breath catching in her throat as she glanced at JJ who was beside her, his own face a perfect replica of confusion and amazement.

"There she is, the wreck of the Merchant. If something happens to me, finish what I started." Big John's voice continued to fill the deafening silence of the room. "Go for the gold, kid. I love you, Bird, even if I didn't always act like it. I'll see you on the other side."

The recorder clicked off after that, once again silence engulfing the room. Haley felt her stomach churn, her heartbeat to quicken, her palms beginning to sweat. She couldn't believe it. Big John Routledge had gone and found the Royal Merchant. The Royal Merchant, of which her own father had spent months obsessing over. The Royal Merchant, as in the ship that had sunk over two hundred years ago. The Royal Merchant, in which had bought her and this ragtag group of misfits together.

They all littered around the pontoon close to John B's house, beers in hand as Kie strummed softly on her ukulele, the night air a welcome comfort to Haley’s clammy skin, her heart having still not calmed from when she’d first come to the realisation that Big John had found the Royal Merchant, and now she was joining the Pogues on finishing what he had started - for her own father, she thought as she looked towards the stars in the summer nights sky, smiling softly up at them. For you, dad.

"How much was it again?" JJ broke the silence, the golden haired boy seated closest to her.

"Four hundred mil," John B reminded, though he said it dreamily, almost as if he still couldn't quite believe it. She couldn't, either, in all honesty. Five teenagers, about to charge head-first into a treasure hunt? They had to be crazy. But for four hundred million, anyone would be.

JJ's head turned at rapid speed, before he let out a sigh and clasped his hands together, looking between them all. "Alright, let's talk the split. Now, before we say 'evenly' may I remind you that I am the only one that can properly defend us from those groupers who were after us," he branded the gun, waving it around as he spoke. "Protection? Not cheap, okay?"

"Technically, that should be my gun," Haley pointed out, shrugging a shoulder and smiling cheekily when he turned to glance over at her, frown etched on his lips. "You said so yourself, remember?"

"You said you didn't want it!" He protested instantly.

She licked her lips as she teased him, "Well, maybe I changed my mind."

JJ shook his head, tongue running over his teeth as he stared at her in disbelief, though his smile was enough to let her know he found humour in her actions. "You don't just get backsies on a gun," he deadpanned.

Haley rolled your honey coated eyes as Pope quickly interrupted the two of them. “You haven't trained," he directed towards JJ. "You've done zero training."

"YouTube, bro!" JJ countered, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "This," he pointed to the gun. "Is at least a five percent bump right there."

The group collectively ignored him, though Haley sent him a smirk when he looked at her, an expression of am-I-right or am-I-right on his pretty face. Kie tilted her head towards Pope. "What are you gonna do with your eighty mil, Pope?" She questioned.

"Pay for college in advance," the boy answered immediately. "And also, textbooks. Those are expensive."

Haley couldn't help but smile at him, Pope, ever the thoughtful one. She knew if she had half the brains Pope had she’d probably be the exact same as him - planning ahead, working towards college more than anything. She admired the boy, truly. But her future wasn't nearly as bright as Pope's, she was aware of that. Which made the desire to find that treasure from the Royal Merchant all that more huge.

"What about you, Haley?” She was broken from her thoughts as Kie suddenly directed her words to the other girl, raising an expectant brow as she came to, noting the rest of the gang all looking at her with similar expressions.

What would she do with her money? Honestly, she had no idea. She felt incredibly lucky to even be considered to get a share of it, given that she had appeared seemingly out of nowhere, demanding answers about her dead dad and the damned compass that had started it all in the first place. She’d questioned the guys immediately after the discovery of Big John's reveal, telling them that she was totally okay with not getting a share, had even told them she’d back off and leave them to it, though so many more questions needed answering in her mind. But they'd all immediately disagreed, letting her know that she were apart of this just as much as they all were. This was her journey, too.

"Move me and my mom out of our shitty house," Haley decided. "Get a huge ass house on Figure Eight, buy anything that we wanted. Treat her to everything she could have ever dreamed of. Maybe buy a holiday home in Italy, visit there every year and have a holiday romance with an insanely hot Italian guy."

Her and Kiara shared a giggle at that, missing the way the blonde beside her shifted almost uncomfortably, eyes downcast towards the water for a second before he licked his lips, proclaiming loudly, "I know what I'll do. I'm gonna get a big ass house on Figure Eight, and go full Kook," JJ announced, eyes meeting hers and sending her a wink. "We can be neighbours."

Haley laughed outright, shaking her head at his dramatics as he continued. "Gonna get a marble statue of myself, and then I'm gonna get a koi pond, put a bunch of those fish-"

"I'm never visiting." Kie mumbled, interrupting his sentence as they all shared a laugh, gazes suddenly turning to John B who hadn't spoken in a while, the tanned brunette simply staring off into space, almost seemingly lost in his world.

"What about you, John B?" He looked back towards the four of them sprawled out on the pontoon, his eyes catching Haley’s own for a millisecond, the pair of them understanding exactly what was going through both their minds in that moment.

"To going full Kook," he raised the hand that held his beer, the group of Pogues wasting no time in following the action, all their hands raising, beer cans glinting under the moonlight as they all exclaimed, "To going full Kook!" into the summer nights air, the excitement and anticipation present in all of their voices.

And she grinned as she clinked her beer with JJ's, the blonde throwing a careless arm over her shoulder as he tugged her closer to him; Haley’s own naturally wound around his waist in return as they all laughed and joked into the night, the promise of an adventure and bright future's ahead of them all.

She failed to notice that their arms never really left each other until later that night, when her departure from the gang forced her to unwind her limbs from his, their gazes catching, secret smiles on both their faces.

Oh, this would be fun.

[stay-tinystars]

Rumors pt 2

Ship: Yeosang x Named female character (Jae Hwa) 

 College AU. ‘Bad’ girl x shy studious Yeosang. 

 Some fluff, some angst, mostly slice of life, a bit chaotic 

 Warnings: overly controlling parents, rumors, cursing, motorcycle. 

 Word count: 2.8k 

 A/N: this is a short series. I hope you all enjoy it. I’m trying out different writing styles as I get back into writing so I hope you enjoy. 

 All of this is pure fiction.❤

She expected to hear from Yeosang, or to see him somewhere at the university over the next week. When she didn't she decided it was best to approach his friends.

"Excuse me, do you know if Yeosang is alright?" Jae approached two of Yeosangs friends in the dining hall, at the usual table. They looked at her in slight shock.

"Yeah, he got in trouble for who knows what now." San shrugged.

"Apparently he got home late, and they grounded him." Wooyoung added.

"What about his schooling?"

"Thats where they got weird. They contacted the professors and got some work packets or some crap" Wooyoung rolled his eyes.

"Oh" she mumbled, as she sat on an empty chair at their table.

"Why do you ask?" She could see mischievous looks in their eyes as they looked at her.

"Well, long story short. He helped me catch my dog, who was running around the park, and we started talking. Then his mom called because he was late. I took him home, gave him my number. Then he disappeared" she rambled, her thoughts piling on top of one another. This was her fault.

"They took his phone. His parents are intense. They treat him like he's 10, instead of an adult" Wooyoung leaned back on his chair, folding his arms, intrigued by the soft 'bad girl' in front of him.

"How do you guys talk to him then"

"Secret messages" San lifted his eyebrows, then laughed, his dimples highlighting his face.

"He messages us through our gaming systems. His parents don't know how to block that"

"Can you tell him I'm sorry"

"I can do you one better" 

"What do you mean?"

The two boys just smiled at each other, mischief glinting in their eyes.

"Meet us at 10 tonight, at the park by his house"

"Why?"

"We're sneaking him out."

The park was dark, it seemed as if the light posts had burned out. She pulled up and parked next to the only car in the small parking lot, three figures stood in the dark.

"Did you have to bring your motorcycle?" Wooyoung asked, as she took off her helmet, and strapped it to the back.

"It's the only thing I have" she responded, placing her hand on her hip. "So how are we doing this?"

"Well you are going to help by being the distraction" Seonghwa nodded

"What kind of distraction?" Jae asked. Her eyes wide.

"Well maybe it's a good thing you brought your bike" San's eyes darkened, as he eyed her motorcycle, and shrugged the bag he was carrying off his shoulder. Her heartbeat picked up.

"I'm not wrecking my bike!"

"We will help you fake it." Wooyoung unzipped the bag, as San handed it to him. She felt like these guys were ganging up on her. Why did she come? Why was she trusting these guys she barely knew? She took a deep breath, and gathered her thoughts. This was for Yeosang, the one she got in trouble. The only guy who hadn't written her off. Maybe these guys weren't so bad, they are Yeosang's friends.

"My baby better not get damaged. I just paid it off!" Her voice was hard, along with her gaze.

"Your bike won't have any harm. We will just lay it down next to the curb in front of Yeosang's house." San held up his pinky, as if he was promising her to keep her bike safe.

"I don't like this idea" her arms folded over her chest, as her eyes narrowed.

"Look, do you want to help Yeosang escape or not?" Wooyoung approached her, she sighed and reluctantly nodded. "Good, now take off your jacket."

"What?"

"Just take off your jacket. It will help with the ruse" Seonghwa smiled. His smile, genuine. She shrugged her jacket off, and watched as Wooyoung opened a jar full of red liquid.

The three boys started smearing fake blood all over her right arm, and over the slits and holes in her jeans, mostly on her right side.

As they informed her of their oddly concocted idea for Yeosangs break out. They told Yeosang to find a clip of screeching brakes to play loudly upstairs, then to flash the lights twice, at which point Jae, who would be out on the curb, would scream. Knowing how Yeosangs parents act they would come out front at which point they would sneak him out the back of the house. 

Jae stood at the end of a driveway, Seonghwa and San had helped lay her motorcycle down a few feet away then ran. She watched the 2nd story window. She saw the light flicker twice, she let a blood curdling scream, bending over holding her 'bloodied' arm to her chest, along with her helmet. A few moments later the front door opened.

Jae started cursing, and acting just as the boys had coached her.

"Did you see that jerk! He ran me off the road!" She yelled.

"Well what do you expect riding a death trap!" Yeosang's mothers judgemental voice rang in her ears. The boys were right, Yeosangs mother was a piece of work.

"I wasn't in the wrong!" Jae defended herself. "I was just doing the speed limit, when that car came out of nowhere and side swiped me. Did no one see it?" 

"Do you even live in this neighborhood?" Her words sounded like venom, Jae could feel the judging eyes, she always did. 

"I was visiting a friend." Jae was appalled, they hadn't even blinked an eye at her 'injuries' nor had they asked if she was okay. She couldn't act any longer, she shook her head, and grimaced. "If you guys won't help me, I'll take myself to the hospital" Jae put her helmet on faking gasps of pain. She raised up her bike, and started it.

How Yeosang, one of the sweetest people she had ever met, had come from that toxic household she couldn't understand. She sped off towards the park. Hoping she had given them enough time to help Yeosang escape. She parked her bike, and took off her helmet, watching around her. She saw four shadows approaching warily, along the tree line.

"Oh my God! Jae are you okay?" Yeosangs voice was concerned, as he hurried towards her.

"I'm fine" she stated, leaning against her bike.

"You don't look fine, your arm, your leg! We need to get you to the ER." His panicked face only seemed to grow in worry as he continued to analyze Jae.

"Did you jerks not tell him anything?" Jae shook her head, standing up and walking over to the hood of the car where her jacket sat.

"Well we told him you were helping us out." San started.

"We just spaced the whole, covering you in blood and pretending you got into an accident." Wooyoung finished. 

"It's all fake, don't worry, Yeosang." Jae started rubbing her arm trying to get off the fake blood, it didn't budge or smear. "What did you guys put on me?"

It turns out San is a theater major. Which is why he had fake blood. However he had mixed too much coloring into it, so he insisted that they should all return to his small two bedroom apartment, which he and his roommateYunho shared. That's where he had the items to take off the fake blood. The apartment was small, yet comfortable. Jae had been guided into the small bathroom by San, who showed her the cleanser, and how to use it. Jae took off her shirt, so she was in her tank top, staring at herself in the mirror over the sink as she tried to scrub off all the fake blood, with the stage makeup remover. There was a knock at the slightly opened door.

"Hey, thanks for the help tonight" Yeosang said as he poked his head in.

"You're welcome. I knew you told me about your parents. I never expected them to be so harsh." She ran the rag under hot water, to start rinsing off her skin, which was mostly free of the fake blood.

"You met my mom" he stated as he closed the toilet lid and sat down watching her.

"She's a piece of work. She never even asked if I was OK. Just kept going on about how my motorcycle was a death trap. " 

"She really hates motorcycles."

"I can tell. But answer me this. How did you end up so sweet when she is just…. Ugh" Jae threw her head back.

"My dad is quite nice, but he does whatever she says. He says it's out of love, but I think he's just as scared of her as the rest of us are." His shoulders slumped, as he stared at the floor. Jae watched his actions. He reminded her of the hurt animals at the shelter, who couldn't understand why they had been mistreated. Her heart broke for him, no one should ever feel that way, especially from a parent. 

"I'm sorry Yeosang." Jae started with a sigh,, "She's just so infuriating, I can see the toxicity. I know this is hard for you" she grabbed the hand towel and patted her arm to dry it. He looked up at her then stared at the wall in front of him.

"It is hard. I need out. This was the last straw. I've been practically imprisoned for the past week." His head dropped into his hands. "I'm going to stand up to them. I'm moving out. I have to. I can't live like this."

Jae wanted to respond to his sudden resolve, but  she didn't know what to say to confirm his feelings, nor how to comfort him. So she walked over, crouched down, and hugged him. He immediately returned the embrace. She held him, until her legs started to cramp, from her awkward position between the toilet and bathtub. She pulled back, and stood up then softly took his cheeks in her hands, encouraging him to look her in the eyes.

"This won't be easy, but I'm here for you. So are your amazing friends. We want you to be happy." She rubbed her thumb softly over his birthmark. "I like your birthmark." Her thoughtful words shocked him slightly. He was always so self conscious about his birthmark.

"You don't have to lie." he muttered, as he softly grabbed her hand, stopping her movements.

"I'm not. I really like your birthmark. It brings a light to your eyes."

He just shook his head, and dropped her hand.

"Yeosang look here" , she said, turning around. There on her left shoulder blade was a large brown birthmark. It looked almost like a nimbus cloud. She had a crescent moon tattooed above it, and the cloud looked like it was raining stars down.

"Yeosang, when I was young I always got made fun of for my birthmark. I hated it. I hated wearing tank tops, I hated swimming, because I knew everyone would see it." She paused and looked at the ground. "Then I got older, and a friend pointed out that it looked like a cloud. As I learned to love me I decided to enhance its beauty without covering it, so I got the moon and stars tattooed. Our birthmarks, and scars are beautiful. They tell stories, and make us unique." She smiled as she turned, looking at the artwork on her shoulder in the mirror as best as possible.

"Do you have any other tattoo's?" He asked. She nodded.

"I have two others, both incorporate some scars" her smile, and gaze seemed distant.

"Can I see those?" He asked. She smiled at him, and cooked her head to the side.

"No" she responded, as she grabbed her shirt off the counter and slipped it back on. She then walked out of the bathroom, making a sure end to this conversation.

So the rumors he heard of her having tattoos were true. However he doubted that she had a death tarot card tattoo, or that she had a prison tattoo with how cute the one on her shoulder is.

That night Yeosang made plans with the group on how he was going to stand up to his parents. Whom they were sure, were losing their minds being as he had successfully gotten out.

The next day was Saturday, and Jae was working her shift in the back of the shelter. Her text tone went off as she filled another bowl of food. It was an unknown number

-Jae

-What are you doing?

-Want to come to the library. I need your help

-Oh btw it's Wooyoung

-Sure, the one on campus. I'll see you there at 5

-I get off at 4. Can I just meet you at the library at 5"

He left her hanging with no response.

-How did you get my number?

When she arrived at the library on campus she was greeted by a quiet Wooyoung.

"What do you need help with?" She asked, only to be grabbed by her wrist, and dragged into the two story library. She tried pulling free, with no luck. Wooyoung stopped below the balcony on the second story.

"But, soft! What light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Yeosang is the sun" Wooyoung cooed as Yeosang stepped into view from the second story of the library.

"What are you going on about now woo?" Yeosang groaned.

"He speaks: O, speak again, bright angel! for thou art As glorious to this night, being o'er my head As is a winged messenger of heaven"

"How can you memorize part of Romeo and Juliet, and yet you can't remember any of your biology class?"

"Well i'm trying to woo girls. I'll memorize anything for that." Wooyoung winked at Jae, she just rolled her eyes.

"You are crazy if you think standing below someone and quoting Shakespeare will woo them, Wooyoung" she responded, shaking her head.

"Oh, Jae you're here" Yeosang looked over the railing with a smile. "I'd much rather talk to you" , his eyes shining.

"I'm the one that asked you to come over here!" Woo argued.

"She's prettier than you" 

"Hey!"

"Can someone just tell me why am I here?" Jae laughed. Wooyoung's smile became mischievous.

"I need your help, removing him from the library" he pointed towards where Yeosang had been. Then groaned as he grabbed her wrist again and started towards the stairs.

"Why?" Jae questioned, "He's an adult, he can stay here as long as he wants."

"You don't get it. We kind of broke into his parents house. "

"You what?" Yeosang yelled, as he walked down the stairs.

"Well, we wanted to make sure you actually would move out. Plus I knew you needed clothes." Wooyoung scratched his head. 

"Who's 'we' " Yeosang pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration.

"San and I. We ended up being stuck in your room when your parents came back, and I was lucky and got out your window. But I think San is still under your bed."

"Wooyoung, that is how people end up in jail" Jae's voice quiet, yet stern, as she placed her hand on Wooyoung's shoulder making him face her. "You can't break into people's houses!"

"We didn't really break in. The code was easy to guess" The gravity of the situation, seeming to finally sink in.

"That doesn't make it less illegal" She almost hissed.

"We've got to save San. I guess I'm facing my parents sooner than I thought" Yeosang groaned, as he started to lead them out of the library.

Soon enough they were back where they were the night before, at the small park by Yeosangs parents' house. Yeosang was trying to convince Jae to come with him, as support while wooyoung helped sneak San out.

"Your parents are going to recognize me from last night if I come with you!" Jae argued.

"But I think they will handle you better than him. They think he's a bad influence." Yeosang motioned towards Wooyoung, who was watching the two argue as if it were a drama while leaning against his car.

"And having me come with you, with my purple undercut, and eyebrow piercing will be a good thing? Plus your mom already thinks I'm a heathen because of my motorcycle. I don't think I'm one who should join you."

Jae found herself standing next to Yeosang as he knocked on the front door of his parents house. He was holding onto her wrist tightly. She was sure this is how she was going to die.

[katedrakeohd]

What Happens in Paris...(6b)

[MASTERLIST]

Author's note: Part 6 is broken up into several parts, and told from different points of view. Part (a) was told from Kate's perspective, whereas part (b) is from Drake's. I'm trying out a 'read more' that's supposed to work on Android, so I apologize if it doesn't work.

Word count: approximately 1850

Rated PG because these are Drake's thoughts. 😏😉

:::

Later, after Kate and I have demolished a basket and a half of pastries and a couple cups of coffee, we're still sitting around the table with some time to kill before the tea party. 

Looking across at Kate, I can see a smudge of sugary stuff on her cheek and I wish I was close enough to lick it off. She catches me staring at her, and smiles. "What are you staring at?"

Maxwell grins, "Oh, you have something sugary on your cheek." 

"Oh," she blushes, and damn it's so cute, wiping at her face with a napkin. "Did I get it?"

Hana turns in her seat and swipes her thumb across Kate's cheek. "There, all gone."

"Thanks," Kate says, smiling at her.

I frown. Damn, I wanted to do that. Next time I'm sitting next to her, or we're eating alone. Tonight I'm taking her out for a date, just the two of us.

A rush of excitement sizzles through me at the thought. I lean over to talk to Maxwell, "So, aren't you or Bertrand usually in charge of getting Kate dressed up for social events?" 

Maxwell's face brightens, "Yea, why? As her new Beau, do you have a suggestion for what you would like her to wear?"

I feel heat creep up my neck, and settle in my cheeks and prickle my skin, "Don't you ever use that word to describe me again. I..just want her to look good today and not get picked apart by Madeleine again."

Maxwell checks his phone with a beaming grin, "We still have plenty of time, are you saying we should take her shopping!?" 

Hana and Kate both gasp with delight.

"Oh my goodness, yes!" Hana says, "How often do you get to shop the boutiques of Paris?"

"I was actually hoping Hana could lend her something pretty to wear, but I guess now we're going shopping." I mumble, but feel that rush of heat again when Kate smiles at me.

The thought of buying Kate something to wear in a boutique in Paris makes my stomach knot at what it might cost, but she's worth it.

Maxwell jumps out of his seat with more enthusiasm than is necessary,  "Awesome sauce! I'll call us a cab."

..

Riding through the streets of Paris on the narrow backseat of the SUV with Kate was an interesting experience. I had to slouch down on the seat to avoid banging my head on the roof, but it was all worth it to have her sitting next to me. Hip to hip, thigh pressed to denim thigh, with my arm stretched across the top of the seat behind her, all I had to do was turn my head to get a whiff of her hair or nuzzle the side of her neck. Whenever I did either, she'd giggle and place her hand on my thigh. Damn if it wasn't a turn on every time she touched me. If we were alone, and not just sitting a foot away from Maxwell and Hana, there's no doubt we'd be doing some heavy kissing by now. But for the sake of decency we had to keep ourselves in check. Paris may be the City for Lovers, but I didn't feel like getting kicked out of our cab and violating some kind of unknown public decency bylaw or something.

Maxwell and Hana were doing their best to ignore us by pointing out different sights on either side of the vehicle as we passed them. I was impressed by Hana's french speaking skills, although I didn't understand a word, it sounded nicer coming from her than Kiara. 

Although I've been to Paris a few times, I'd always avoided doing the touristy stuff. Probably because of the language barrier. But now that I had Kate to experience things with, I kind of wish I could take her places and we could make new memories. It would be to our advantage to have Max and Hana as our guides today.

Looking out through the tinted glass I didn't recognize where we were, but the traffic was moving slower and I could see shops and cafés along with crowds of pedestrians on the sidewalk.

Kate seemed eager to get out of the cab to explore, and she was leaning forward in her seat to see the stores that Hana was pointing out to her. 

Maxwell turns in his seat to look back at me, "Ready to get out and watch the girls try on pretty stuff?" He smirks and winks at me.

I lean forward and pat Max on the shoulder, "As long as you're buying, sure."

Hana gets the attention of our driver, Henri, and says something to him in French. "Merci Henri. Pouvons-nous réserver le voyage de retour dans une heure?" (Thanks Henry. Can we reserve a return trip back in an hour?)

He nods and then once he finds an empty space at the curb, he parks the SUV. 

I stumble my way out of the cab,  bumping my head twice, and join everyone on the sidewalk. "So where are we going?"

Kate grabs my hand and I can't help but smile at her as I lace our fingers together. 

"Aww, you two look so cute." Hana giggles.

I cringe, "Well don't make a big deal out of it."

Maxwell pats me on the arm before taking up a position ahead of us with Hana as we head down the sidewalk. "But it is a big deal, big guy. In all the years we've been hanging out, this is the first time I've seen you out with a girl on your arm."

Kate squints in the sunshine as she  looks up at me, "Really?"

I loosen my grip on Kate's hand and feel self conscious as I tuck my hands into my pockets instead. "..uh, no comment." 

I glare at Maxwell's back as we meander our way around other tourists, Kate has to quicken her pace to keep up with me. When she grabs my arm, I slow down and apologize. "Sorry. Max kind of caught me off guard."

"It's ok, Drake. I understand." She tries looping her arm through mine, but it's awkward, so I go back to holding her hand.

"C'mon," I say, sidestepping around another group of window shoppers and tugging her along with me, "We better catch up with Max and Hana before we lose them."

Kate laughs as she scampers along beside me, narrowly missing obstacles, and by the time we spot Hana and Max again they're waiting for us outside of a clothing store. We skid to a stop. 

"Geez, guys. You nearly lost us." Kate pants, leaning against my arm. "I'm glad I wore my sneakers."

Hana pulls the door open, "Sorry for the rush, but we only have an hour before our cab comes back. I've been dying to shop at this boutique, ever since I've started following their posts on Instagram."

I glance up at the fancy sign above the doors in gold script. "Mes -...?"

"Mes Demoiselles. It means 'My Ladies'." Kate says, and I smirk at the way her speaking French sends a shiver through me. Damn it sounds sexy.

I hold the door open for her, "After you then, My Lady."

We're all met by a tall woman with a friendly smile, and of course she welcomes us in French. Hana answers and then we're left alone to shop. I haven't a clue what to look at, or what would be appropriate for a tea party so I just follow Kate around as she sifts through the racks.

Up on the wall are photographs of models wearing various dresses and outfits, I try to imagine Kate modeling things for me, and suddenly I feel warm all over. 

"F..find anything you like..K-..Darling?" I stammer and she gives me a little smirk, flipping her hair over her shoulder. 

"What color should I wear, Drake?" She pulls out a pale minty colored dress made of some sheer fabric and covered in flowers, holding it up to herself. "Do you like this?"

I tried to imagine her in it, the minty color did bring out the blue of her eyes, but it made her look too pale to me. There was another dress of the same style in a pale pinkish color, and I pointed to that one. "Ehh, try that one instead."

Kate twists her lip in thought for a moment and then pulls them both, "I'll try them both on and then we'll see."

She hands them both to me and I raise my eyebrows, "Oh..ok."

Hana waves us over to the other side of the store where there are some longer dresses. I make eye contact with Maxwell briefly and he winks at me in some kind conspiratorial way, and I look away with a frown. 

"Ooh, Hana. This white dress is pretty. Do you think I could pull it off? I'm not very tall."

"Oh sure, it might even make you look taller. Try it on."

Kate hands me another dress, and I get a glimpse at the price tag. It's over a hundred Euros. I gulp as I try to hold all three dresses without dropping them.

I feel a gentle tap on my shoulder and then turn to see the shop lady, "Excusez-moi monsieur.  Voudriez-vous que je vous enlève ceux-ci pendant que votre femme fait les courses?"

I blink, "Uh…"

Hana smiles, "She wants to know if you'd like to set these dresses aside while your..wife...continues shopping."

I blush, "Uh..tell her 'yes'...but she's not my wife."

Hana quickly translates, and then shares a chuckle with the woman at my expense. And I feel myself blush even harder.

Kate covers her mouth and giggles, watching me hand off the dresses. "I'm sorry, Drake. You just look so cute when you're flustered."

Pulling Kate into a hug, I bury my hot face into the side of her neck, and whisper. "You're lucky you're cute too, or I wouldn't be caught dead shopping for dresses. Now let me see what they look like on you."

When she sucks in a breath and presses her lips to my cheek, I squeeze her tighter. "Although I'd much rather you helped me out of them," she whispers. 

Maxwell clears his throat, "C'mon you two. Quit your canoodling. We have a party to get to."

Hana picks out a long skirt and a blouse for herself.  On our way to the changing rooms at the back of the store, I notice a mannequin wearing a long cardigan type shawl in an ivory color. I point it out to Kate. "Do you like that?"

She runs her fingers along the delicate stitch work, and smiles, "I do. Why?"

"Get one, there's not much to these dresses and I don't want you to get cold."

Kate kisses my cheek, and then runs over to where they're folded up on a shelf and cuddles it's softness to herself as she comes back to me. "Thank you Drake, it's beautiful."

"You can thank me later."

::

tagging: @jovialyouthmusic @sirbeepsalot @emceesynonymroll @emichelle @mskaneko @speedyoperarascalparty @dcbbw @drakeandcamilleofvaltoria @pedudley @kingliam2019 @kimmiedoo5 @gardeningourmet @drakesensworld @mfackenthal @thequeenchoices @debramcg1106 @fluffy-marshmallow-heart @wickedgypsymoon @griselda1121 @indiacater @texaskitten30 @nikkis1983 @lynne1993 @bobasheebaby @drakesfiance @ravenpuff02 @moonlightgem7 @princessleac1 @janezillow @jlpplays1 @walker7519 @drakesensworld @furiousherringoperatortoad @samihatuli @fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore @rainbowsinthestorm @burnsoslow @bbrandy2002 @jessiembruno @msjpuddleduck @princess-andromeda-nazario @princess-geek @mom2000aggie @batgirlassociationofgothamcity

[shawtygonemad]

What Is This Feeling: Chapter 9

Fem!9th Doctor x Male!Rose Tyler

WITF Masterlist

The last time we saw our dynamic duo they had picked up a stray from Utah. Adele was only with them for one adventure, before she almost got them killed. She also got an information port embedded into her forehead which is a big taboo. You never try and change the future or past in a dramatic way. So, the Doctor once again had to save the day. Needless to say, Adele was dumped back off at her place once they were out of danger.

Ross and the Doctor were currently relaxing in the control room throwing around ideas on which place they should explore next. The Doctor was sitting on the jumper rolling a ball between her hands.

"How about the planet of Junifer? It's really beautiful this time of year. They have one of the best flower festivals in the universe," she suggested with a smile.

Ross shook his head. He seemed really off this morning. She had asked him earlier if anything was the matter. He had denied that something was wrong. The Doctor left it at that assuming he had wanted his space. However, this was the fifth place that he had rejected.

"Alright. Is there any place that you're wanting to go to," she asked.

"Well… there is one place I've been thinking a lot about. Well it's more of a time rather than a place," He started. "I want to meet my dad. Peter Alan Tyler. The greatest man in the world. Born 15th September 1954. My mum would always take out a photo album and start telling me about him. I wasn't old enough to remember him. He died on 1987, 7th of November. It was the day that Stuart Hoskins and Sarah Clarke got married. That what mum always said. So I was thinking, could we, could we go and see my dad when he was alive," he said somberly.

"Where's this come from, all of a sudden," she furrowed her brows at him.

"All right then, if we can't, if it goes against the laws of time or something, then never mind, just leave it," he mumbled as he began to absentmindedly touch knobs on the TARDIS's console.

The Doctor furrowed her brows as she studied her favorite pink and yellow human. This was a simple adventure. There's nothing wrong with Ross wanted to see his dad alive. She was just a bit worried how Ross would take in the event. Humans seem to be much more emotional than Time Lords.

"No, I can do anything. I'm just worried about you," she gazed at her companion with concerned eyes.

"I want to see him," Ross confirmed.

"Your wish is my command," The Doctor smiled. "But be careful what you wish for."

The Time Lord hopped up onto her feet and began her dance around the console, hitting buttons, twisting knobs, pulling levers. This console is originally meant for at least 8 Time Lords to operate her. It was miracle the Doctor was able to do it by herself. Although she has had many years of practice under her belt now.

The pair arrived just in time for the wedding ceremony. They didn't want to be noticed to much in case people came asking questions, so they sat in the back pew. It wasn't very formal. Jackie didn't even wear a white dress. She was in a baby pink pencil skirt with a matching blouse and blazer. As she walked down the aisle towards Peter she seemed to be a mixture of happiness, nerves, and dare she say doubt. Peter, on the other hand, was all nerves.

"Repeat after me. I, Peter Alan Tyler, take you, Jacqueline Angela Suzette Prentice…" The officiant spoke.

"I, Peter Alan Tyler, take you, Jacqueline Angela Suzanne…" Everyone's eyes grew large with the mix up. Peter tried to correct himself but dug himself an even further hole. "Suzanne Anita…"

"That wasn't even remotely close," The Doctor thought. "I never thought I would say this, but poor Jackie. This bloke must have been sneaking around behind her back. And yet she still wants to marry him."

All eyes were on Jackie now, awaiting her response. "Oh, just carry on. It's good enough for Lady Di."

The Doctor grinned. Of course, it was such a Jackie response.

"I thought he's be taller," Ross whispered.

After the ceremony, they snuck out before the newly bride and groom could make their rounds greeting all of their guests and thanking them. They were back in the TARDIS once again.

"Well that was fun, wasn't it?" the Doctor grinned as she practically skipped around the console. She had hoped this would make her little human feel a little bit better. She hated it when he was feeling down.

Ross moved towards the Doctor slow and hesitantly. He still wore a frown on his face. His eyes were trained on the ground.

"I- I remember mum telling me that no one was there. When he died that is. It was a hit and run driver. Never found out who. He was dead when the ambulance got there," Ross finally looked up and met the Doctor's gaze. "I want to be that someone."

The Time Lord of course gave in. "November the 7th?"

"1987," he finished.

The Doctor flipped some switches and the Time Rotor once again started up. Once they landed the TARDIS parked herself between a telephone junction box and a road sign by Park Railings. They stepped outside to the sound of Never Can Say Goodbye playing off in the distance. The Doctor took a deep breath in and looked around.

"It's so weird. The day my father died. I thought I'd be all grim and stormy. It's just an ordinary day," Ross softly spoke and also gazed around.

"The past is another country. 1987's just the Isle of Wight," she looked at her companion. "Are you sure about this?"

"Yeah," he quickly replied and nodded his head. He also threw the Doctor a reassured smile.

"Alright then. Off we go," she spoke with a smile before walking off.

A few blocks away Ross stopped and stared at a road with minor disbelief.

"This is it. Jordan Road. He was late. He'd been getting a wedding present, a vase." He started to choke up a little bit. "Mum always said, 'that stupid vase'."

Just then a car rounded the corner. It was Peter.

Ross continued narrating the scene unfolding before them.

"He got out of his car…" The car pulled up to the curb. "And crossed the road…" He watched with slight horror. "Oh God, this is it."

The Doctor wrapped Ross's hand with hers and held it as Peter got out of his car. She wanted to comfort Ross that was the only subtle way she could do it.

The two watched in silence. As Peter got out he was instantly hit but the driver. Ross shut his eyes during the impact. The car zoomed away leaving Peter and the vase lying broken in the street. The Doctor turned to Ross.

"Go to him. Quick."

Ross stood there frozen in horror. Tears formed in his eyes as he watched his father slow die in the street.

"I can't…" he softly whispered.

Once the Doctor realized that he was in shock and not going to his father's aid, she slowly steered him away. The went around the corner and sat on the ground with their backs against the brick wall. The Doctor held Ross's hand slowly running her thumb over the back of it comfortingly until Ross snapped out of his daze. The ambulances sirens could be heard arriving.

"It's too late now. By the time the ambulance got there, he was dead." Ross looked at the Doctor sorrowfully, with tears running down his cheeks. It pained the Doctor to see him like this. "He can't die alone. Can I try again?"

She caved once more to please her little human.

The Doctor and Ross hide behind the corner to see themselves waiting by the curbside.

"Right, that's the first you and me. It's a very bad idea, two sets of us being here at the same time. Just be careful they don't see us. Wait till she leads him off, then go to your dad," the Doctor informed him. Peter got out of his car.

"Oh God, this is it," Past Ross said.

"I can't do this," Present Ross spoke, slightly panicked.

"You don't have to do anything you don't want to, but this is the last time that we can be here," the Doctor told him.

Ross suddenly sprinted towards Peter as he was getting out of his car.

"Ross! No!" The Doctor yelled.

Ross wrapped his arms around his father and threw both of them off to the side of the road out of the way of the driver. The previous Doctor and Ross disappeared. Oh, no no no! This was not good!

The doctor didn't notice Peter pointing at her. She was too busy seething. Stupid, Stupid humans! This was all a ploy, wasn't it? Have her take him back just so he could save his father's life! Was he planning this all along? Buddy on up to her and then convince her to take him here. It's no bloody wonder he hoped on in the TARDIS as soon as he said that it could travel back in time.

The Doctor hadn't said a single word the entire way to the Tyler's flat. Even once they were inside and Peter started to yammer on about some invention. The Doctor waited until she was alone with Ross in the living room. Her arms were folded across her chest and she leaned against the door frame. She watched Ross analyzing the place and continue to speak about unimportant things in the apartment like his father's bowling trophy of health drinks. The Doctor could honestly care less and glared at Ross completely cross.

"'Kay, look, I'll tell him you're not my girlfriend," he said thinking that's why she was so annoyed. How could this daft human no understand the entirety of this situation?! How could he? He was just a stupid little human.

"When we met, I said travel with me in space. You said no. Then I said time machine," she spoke trying to cover the hurt in her voice.

"It wasn't some big plan. I just saw it happening and I thought…I can stop it," Ross defended himself.

The Doctor gave herself a sad smile. "I did it again. I picked another stupid ape. I should've known. It's not about showing you the universe. It never is. It's about the universe doing something for you."

"So it's okay when you go to other times, and you save people's lives, but not when it's me saving my dad-"

"I know what I'm doing! You don't!" She cut him off. "Two sets of us being there made that a very vulnerable point," she tried to explain.

"But he's alive!"

"My ENTIRE planet died. My family! Do you think it never occurred to me to go back and save them?"

"But it's not like I've changed history. Not much. I mean he's never going to be a world leader. He's not going to start World War Three or anything," he tried to rationalize.

"Ross, there's a man alive in the world who wasn't alive before. An ordinary man. That's the most important thing in creation. The whole world's different because he's alive," she kept trying to explain to him.

"What, would you rather him dead?"

"I'm not saying that," she shook her head in annoyance.

"No, I get it! For once you're not the most important person in my life," he told her full of bitter.

This struck a pain in her chest. She, at one point, was the most important person in Ross Tyler's life. Above Mickey, her mum, everyone. And now she wasn't. It hurt so much. It angers her that it hurts so much. Why does she feel this way? Why did she have to form feelings for this ape? She should know by now that they all hurt her. They all leave her in the end. Why did she think that this one was any different?

"Let's see how you get on without me, then. Give me the key." She held her hand out. "The TARDIS key. If I'm so insignificant, give it me back," It truly pained her to say these words, but she put up her cool, stony look so he couldn't see what he had done to her.

"Alright then, I will," he said and placed the key into her hand.

"You got what you wanted, so that's goodbye then," she spoke coolly, before turning around and began to leave.

"You don't scare me," he cut her off and stood in front of her. "I know how sad you are. You'll be back in a minute, or you'll hang around outside the Tardis waiting for me. And I'll make you wait a long time," he yelled after her.

She quickly left the flat. She didn't want him to see a truly sad she was. Her pace was quick as she walked down the sidewalk towards the TARDIS. Hot tears were forming in her eyes. She angrily wiped them away. Why was she crying over a stupid ape? She very rarely cried, and she was not going to start crying over Ross!

The TARDIS was in sight. Just as she reached it a cold wind blew past right. She felt as if something was watching her. She looked up towards the sky to find nothing there. She shook her head as she unlocked the door and started to push open the door. That familiar hum and warm was gone. Throwing the doors open she found that the inside of the TARDIS was gone! Now it was just an ordinary telephone booth. She must have been too busy arguing with Ross and feeling sorry for herself that she didn't notice the connection to her old friend had disappeared. This was not good! Everyone was in trouble.

"Ross!" She yelled before sprinting off towards the church the wedding was being held at. The flat would be empty by the time she got there. An old church might actually be the best place to be in a situation like this. She ran as fast as she could. She just hoped that she would make it in time.

As she turned the corner leading to the church she saw Ross standing on the side walk along with the bride, bridesmaids, Peter, and more. They all are in immediate danger.

"Ross!" Ross turned around and smiled knowingly at the Doctor assuming she came back because she missed him. "Get in the church!" She yelled. Ross's smile fell.

Just then they both looked into the sky to see a large creature with bat-like wings appear. It was very devilish looking. The reaper hissed and started to swoop in on Ross. He cried out in fear as it almost latched its talons onto him. The Doctor quickly took action and pushed them both onto the ground and out of the reaper's grab.

"Get in the church," she said once again, to everyone.

The ground quickly headed for the church only to be stopped at the inside of the gates when another reaper appeared. The Doctor put herself in front of the other's ready to distract the beast if need be.

"Oh, my God. What are they? What are they," one woman cried.

"Inside," the Doctor kept yelling trying to coral them in.

"Sarah," the groom yelled for his bride-to-be and stepped outside.

"Stay in there," the Doctor yells at him.

One man, the father of the groom, took in the situation and decided to try and escape. The reapers pounce on him before he could even get a few feet away. Another one appears in the bride's path and she just screams at it, scaring it away. It decided to take that vicar as its next victim. This gave the group some time to make it safely into the church.

Once inside the Doctor began to survey the area making sure they the reapers couldn't get in. Their screeches rang loudly outside of the church.

"They can't get in. Old windows and doors. Okay. The older something is, the stronger it is. What else?" Her mind was racing a million miles a second. She had to make sure they couldn't get in. At least for the time being so she could figure out how to get them out of this mess. "Go and check the other doors! Move!" She cried out orders like the true warrior that she once was.

As the Doctor began to move around Jackie followed. "What's Happening? What are they? What are they," Jackie asked.

"There's been an accident in time. A wound in time. They're like bacteria, taking advantage," she informed her as the Doctor began checking other doors and windows.

"What do you mean, time? What're you jabbering on about, time?" Jackie snarked back, like always.

"Oh, I might've known you'd argue. Jackie, I'm sick of you complaining," the Doctor rolled her eyes.

"How do you know my name," Jackie demanded.

"I haven't got time for this-" the Doctor was cut off by Jackie once more.

"I've never met you in my life," Jackie exclaimed.

"No, and you never will unless I sort this out. Now, if you don't mind, I've waited a long time to say this. Jackie Tyler, do as I say. Go and check the doors," she ordered the woman.

Jackie was shocked to finally be yelled back at. She quickly nodded her head and replied with a 'Yes Ma'am' before running off to check the doors and windows.

"I should have done that ages ago," she laughed.

The groom walked over to the Doctor. "My dad was out there."

"You can mourn him later. Right now, we need to concentrate on keeping ourselves alive,'" the Doctor told him.

"My dad had-"

"There's nothing that I can do for him," she told him firmly.

"No, but he had this phone thing. I can't get it to work. I keep getting this voice." He passed to phone to the Doctor. She put it up to her ear and listened.

"Watson, come here. I need you," it said. The Doctor smiled.

"That's the very first phone call. Alexander Graham Bell. I don't think the telephone's going to be much use," she passed it back to him.

"But someone must have called the police," he said.

"Police can't help you now. No one can. Nothing in this universe can harm those things. Time's been damaged and they've come to sterilize the wound. By consuming everything inside," she explained to everyone. Her eyes locked with Ross who was standing in front of her.

"Is this because… is this my fault?" He asked. The Doctor didn't answer as she stepped around him.

She was still really made at him, so she decided to go off and work rather than say something she might regret later. The Time Lord strode up to the front of the church and began to use her sonic to bolt the doors down. Just was she was doing so the bride and groom approached her.

"Excuse me, Miss," the groom said.

"Doctor," she corrected him.

"You seem to know what's going on," he stated.

"I give that impression, yeah," she said not removing her eyes from her work. In reality she really had no idea how she was going to get them out of this situation.

"I just wanted to ask-" he was cut off by his fiancée.

"Can you save us," she asked abruptly.

This made the Doctor stop her work and turn towards the couple.

"Who are you two, then," she asked, look at them both up and down.

"Stuart Hoskins," the groom said.

"Sarah Clarke," the bride followed.

The Doctor's eyes strayed onto Sarah's slightly protruding stomach.

"And one extra. Boy or a girl?" She asked.

Sarah looked down at her stomach and smiled while caressing it, "I don't know. I don't want to know, really."

"How did all this get started," the Doctor cocked her head, and asked curiously.

"Outside the beatbox club, two in the morning," Stuart grinned at Sarah.

"Street corner," Sarah added with a laugh. "I lost my purse, didn't have money for a taxi."

"I took her home," he said happily.

"Then what? Ask her for a date," the Doctor laughed.

"Wrote his number on the back of my hand," Sarah confirmed.

"Never got rid of her since," he grinned. " My dad said-" he trailed off with a frown.

"I don't know what this is all about, and I know we're not important-" Sarah began sadly.

"Who said you're not important? I've travelled to all sorts of places, done things you couldn't even imagine, but you two. Street corner, two in the morning, getting a taxi home. I've never had a life like that. Yes. I'll try and save you." The Time Lord smiled at the pair.

Suddenly Jackie began to call her over. As she walked over to the blonde she began to prepare for another lecture of some sort. She was surprised when Jackie asked if she could watch baby Ross while she went and looked for Peter and little Mickey. She of course obliged. Little Ross looked up at her and began to smile. This made the Doctor's heart soar. Even though she was still a little ticked at her Ross, she had no reason to be angry with this little one. He was even as cute as his current Ross.

She sat down beside him and offered him to play with her fingers a she smiled down. She began to talk to him knowing very well that he would not understand her. However, the present Ross approaching them would.

"Now, Ross you're not going to bring about the end of the world, are you? Are you?" She gave a sideways glance to Ross. "Jackie gave her to me to look after. How times change."

Ross gave a small laugh. "I'd better be careful. I think I just imprinted myself on Mickey like a mother chicken."

He began to lean in close to the baby. The Doctor put her hand on his chest to stop him.

"No. Don't touch the baby. You're both the same person. That's a paradox, and we don't want a paradox happening, not with these things outside. Anything new, any disturbance in time makes them stronger. The paradox might let them in," she informed him.

"I can't do anything right, can I," he mumbled dejected.

The Doctor looked at him and frowned. She knew he was hurting, but he needed to learn from his mistake. If he wanted to continue to travel with her then he can't make stupid and dangerous mistakes like this again.

"Since you asked, no! So, Don't. Touch. The baby." She emphasized every word so he would understand.

"I'm not stupid," he glared at her.

"You could have fooled me," she shot back. Ross looked away, sad and a little angry. She knew that she had to be the one to cave first and fix this bitterness between them. She really hated it when they were like this. "Alright, I'm sorry. I wasn't really going to leave you on your own."

"I know," he looked at her with apologetic eyes.

"But between you and me, I haven't got a plan. No idea. No way out," she confessed.

"You'll think of something. You always do."

"The entire Earth's been sterilized. This, and other places like it, are all that's left of the human race. We might hold out for a while, but nothing can stop those creatures. They'll get through in the end. The walls aren't that old. And there's nothing I can do to stop them. There used to be laws stopping this kind of thing from happening. My people would have stopped this. But they're all gone. And now I'm going the same way."

"If I'd just realized…" he began.

"Just… tell me you're sorry," she looked at him.

"I am. I'm sorry," and he meant it.

The Doctor reached out and placed a hand on his cheek. Ross held onto it with his hand and leaned into the touch. The Time Lord grinned at him and the both fell into a hug. Ross leaned back with a small jolt.

"Have you got something hot," he asked. He reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out the TARDIS key. It was scolding hot which made him quickly toss it to the ground.

"It's the TARDIS key," she grinned and quickly took off her leather jacket to pick up the flowing key. "It's telling me it's still connected to the TARDIS. Everyone! I have an announcement!" She ran up to the back of the church and faced the entire crowd. "The inside of my ship was thrown out of the wound but we can use this to bring it back. And once I've got my ship back, then I can mend everything. Now, I just need a bit of power. Has anybody got a battery?"

Stuart quickly grabbed his dad's phone and passed it to the Doctor.

"Fantatic!" She grinned. She took the battery and began to charge it up with her sonic. Once it was ready she placed the key where the door would be and it held in place. The TARDIS slowly began to materialize around it. "Right, no one touches that key. Have you got that? Don't touch it. Anyone touches that key, it'll be, well, zap. Just leave it be and everything will be fine. We'll get out of here. All of us. Stuart, Sarah you're going to get married, just like I said." She grinned at the couple.

Afterwards there was nothing much to do except wait. Ross and the Doctor sat in one of the back pews with Peter in the one directly behind them. Ross leaned towards the Doctor and began to speak softly.

"When time gets sorted out-" he began.

"Everybody here forgets what happened. And don't worry, the thing that you changed will stay changed," she finished his thought.

"You mean I'll still be alive, though I'm meant to be dead. That's why I haven't done anything with my life, why I didn't mean anything," Peter started from behind them.

"It doesn't work like that," the Doctor said.

"Rubbish. I'm so useless I couldn't even die properly. Now it's my fault all of this has happened," Peter said with a frown.

"This is my fault," Ross reassured him.

"No, mate. I'm your dad. It's my job for it to be my fault," Peter stated.

The Doctor got up and shook her head in frustration. Of course, Ross told him.

"Her dad? How are you her dad? How old were you, twelve? Oh, that's disgusting," Jackie said, overhearing the entire conversation.

"Jacks, listen. This is Ross," he tried to explain.

"Ross? How sick is that? You give my son a second-hand name? How many are there? Do you call them all Ross," Jackie yelled defensively.

"Oh, for God's sake, look! It's the same Ross," Peter said taking baby Ross out of Jackie's hands and place him into Ross's hands.

"Ross! No!" The Doctor yelled, but it was too late. She grabbed the baby and placed him back into Jackie's arms.

Just then a reaper formed inside the church causing panic. "Everyone! Behind me!" They all ran behind the Doctor as she held her arms out in a sad attempt to protect them all. She stared up at the creature with fear in her eyes. "I'm the oldest thing in here."

Within a blink of an eye the reaper flew towards her. There was a second of pain. Then darkness.

The Doctor woke up on the ground where she was attacked completely unharmed. She felt her body and did a quick once over. She was fine, and was not regenerate. While getting up on her feet the first thought to cross her mind was to find Ross. As she stepped outside she began to observe the situation. Peter was lying in the middle of the road once again with a broken vase. He must have sacrificed himself to set everything right. She walked up next to Ross.

"Go to him. Quick," she told him.

With that bit of encouragement, he ran off to be with his father during his final moments. The Doctor finally approached the scene once I was over. She held put her hand for Ross to take. He did, and the two walked hand in hand back to the TARDIS for some much needed down time before their next adventure.