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rafescoke · 3 years

Note

Never sent a request idk if I do this right. Been to lazy and not good lately and honestly I just need a good fluff. The basic plot where he is in a bad mood like angry and then he turns to his lover etc etc. Do your thing I just need some comfort and love!

Cupcake ; Rafe Cameron

masterlist

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader

Summary: Maybe making cupcakes with a girl he likes won’t be a bad thing

Warnings: Slight angst on the earlier part, cursing, substance, extreme fluff, adorable Rafe Cameron

A/N: I hope you're doing good, sending all my love and hugs @ you <33 remember to rest!!! @asimpwriter

p.s; you know the drill - send any requests!

"Fuck off," Rafe sighed, shutting his eyes against the bright chandelier above the dinner table. Since when did it got so bright? The last time he checked, it was dimmed. "I swear Sarah, say one more word and I'll fucking kill you."

"Rafe," Ward sighed, placing his cutleries down onto the expensive wooden table. "It's family time. Excuse your sister."

"She's hanging around with those stupid pogues, dad!" he groaned, not wanting to believe that his dad was on her side. Not that he was ever on his, but he thought his father would have the same mindset as him towards this topic.

"Let. It. Go."

"They're my friends," she breathed, and Ward closed his eyes again, knowing the screaming that was about to occur. "I'm sorry you're stuck with Topper-"

"Didn't you cheat on him?" he laughed, and turned to look at his dad. He mouthed at him with an amused expression, "She cheated on him."

"I didn't, and we broke up 2 weeks ago. I'm sorry he couldn't move on from me," Sarah shrugged, and Rafe watched as she put aside her green beans and offered some of the mashed potatoes to Wheezie.

How could she act so normal about this?

"Oh, and-" Sarah turned to Ward, and Rafe waited impatiently for the lies that was about to slip from her mouth. "Do you know that he does drugs?"

"Sarah!" Rose yelled, furrowing her eyebrows as Rafe laughed out loud, clapping his hands loudly that the sound echoed throughout the huge house. "It's a family dinner!"

"I don't give a fuck about this family," Sarah said, removing the napkin from her lap and quickly standing up to get out of the house. Ward didn't say anything, neither did Rose, and after a few seconds, he let out a sigh.

"This is getting out of hand," he started, clasping his hands. "Rafe, I'm no longer letting you take over my business."

Rafe stopped his movements, looking at his father with widened eyes. After all those time he spent at college, trying to make his father proud and to take over the business, only for this?

"Dad, you can't. She's lying, dad, I haven't been using drugs."

"I saw the stash, Rafe," he sighed, and Rafe thought about the space under his bed. He closed his eyes, muttering a ‘fuck’ when he finally remembered the empty space. He didn't think much about it earlier, thinking about how he must have used up all of the powder.

"Until you get your life back on track, or nothing at all."

"Dad-"

"Go find your sister, and bring her home."

"Dad, please-"

"Go find Sarah."

"Okay," he sighed, standing up immediately and letting the chair scraped the polished floor. Wheezie shifted uncomfortably at the sound, and Rafe had an urge to do it again, just for the sake of riling his father's anger.

He cursed silently, walking away towards the table and to the porch, all while thinking about the joy if he could destroy the Pogues' life for making his hard.

The drive from Figure 8 to The Cut took him 30 minutes at high speed and being fully caffeinated, and when he arrived at the Chateau, all riled up from the quarrel with his father that he had before, he didn't try to see if his sister was even in there before barging into the small home.

"Yo, what the fuck?"

"Where's Sarah?" he muttered, giving Kie his side glance and continued searching for her. "Where the fuck is she?"

"Yo, bro, this land is off to the kooks," JJ stepped in, eye to eye as he leveled up to Rafe's height. He was only an inch shorter, but the difference was apparent. He continued to place his hands against his chest, whispering slowly. "Especially to crackheads like you."

Rafe laughed, tilting his head to the back to release the tension building up in his body. He was so, so close to give the blonde boy the consequences of his words, but was halted when Sarah entered the room, hand in hand with John B.

"What are you doing here?" she groaned, walking forward and standing in front of him. "God, can't you leave me alone?"

"Oh, trust me, I rather do that more than anything especially-" his eyes trailed to John B, "When you're fucking with a trash."

"JJ-" Kie stepped up, pulling JJ's shirt to stop him from doing anything. She sighed, knowing that this was bound to happen anytime soon, and she had told John B about this before, but he didn't listen. Now it was like her job to protect her friends from Rafe.

"Leave," Sarah stated, her lips pulled into a tight grimace. "Leave before I'll tell dad about this."

"I'm just trying to protect you," he ran his fingers through his hair, making it more messier than ever. Why couldn't she get that? All he was doing - it was all to protect her, so that his father could see him for what he's worth.

"You know what?" he sighed, wrapping his face with his large hands and turning towards the exit. "You wanna be one of them? Go. Don't ever come back home. You're just another trash, anyways."

He wasn't sure if he meant them, or if it came from the heat of the moment. All he could think about was to run away, to hide and to never come out and face his father or the judgement put by everyone else. He felt an uneasy feeling rising in the pit of her stomach, but he was too proud to say sorry.

“That was useless," he thought, leaning over his motorcycle and blinking his eyes against the lights by the side of the road. He couldn't go back now, not when his father had just ordered him to bring Sarah home and he had failed to do so, and he couldn't go to Barry's; his dad could find him there if he search for him the next day.

He groaned, feeling the cold air nipping at his skin until the final thought occurred to him. He laughed then, not sure as to why he hadn't been thinking of that sooner, and soon he was in front of the mini apartment.

He rapped on the door and waited patiently, his heartbeat quickening. He looked at his watch, checking if his arrival was too late. He groaned, noticing the time, but it would be embarrassing for him to turn now.

(Y/N) was trying to figure out what colour should she put into the frosting mixture, her hands on her waist when she heard the knock.

Her head instinctively looked at the clock, frowning when she read the time. It was not that late, only around 10 p.m., but she was not ready for any guests or her friends to come over.

Had she been too loud that the cranky neighbor next door who sleeps early everyday had come to tell her off?

She sighed, lowering the music coming from the radio before making her way to the door. She was in nothing but her ribbed top and a pair of sweatpants, and her hair was messier than ever.

"I'm sorry, Jerry," she sighed, opening the door to greet the old man. But standing in front of her was not the grey-haired man with furrowed eyebrows, ready to scold her, but it was the boy she had been crushing on since forever instead.

"Rafe?" she exclaimed, and she couldn't deny the shock spreading through her veins at the sight of him. He was sweaty, like he had just been in a fight, and his shirt was sticking to his body. "What are you doing here?"

"Hey, I'm sorry, can I come in?"

The smell of freshly baked cupcakes wafted into his nostrils, and he noticed the drool in his mouth. He didn't eat dinner that much, being forced to chase after his sister, and all he wanted was to enjoy some good food and get a good sleep for the night.

"I'm not. . . we can't. . . I'm not prepared for anything-"

"It's okay, I didn't come for sex," he bit his lips, trying to contain her amused laughter at her statement. "We're friends, (Y/N), aren't we?"

"Yeah," she raised a brow, not grasping at the way he was playing his words. She allowed him in, asking him to sit by the kitchen counter and checking her porch outside to see if there was any cameras in case he was trying to prank her.

Rafe Cameron never contacted her for anything if it wasn't for sex.

"What are you making?" he pointed at the mess on the kitchen, and (Y/N) tried to hide her red face as she quickly tried to put the stained bowls and cutleries into the sink.

"Uh, cupcakes."

"Yum," he chuckled, liking the way she was so nervous around him. The truth with (Y/N), she was extremely wild in bed but also very shy outside. It was like a complete two different person, but he was always intrigued by this.

The first time they had done the deed, he was shocked when she got into control, and he would lie if he said he didn't enjoy it. That night was one of Rafe’s best nights, the starting point to the many after.

"Relax, (Y/N)," he laughed, watching as she tilted a cup and placing his hand under the table to catch it before it could break. (Y/N) yelped, struck to her position, and let out the biggest relief when Rafe put it back to its previous place, safe as ever.

"Why are you so jumpy?" he whispered, sneaking beside her to help with whatever she was doing. He hadn't got a clue about this whole baking thing, only watching Cake Wars for the drama, but he wanted to help the girl beside him if it means he got to spend time with her.

"What are you doing?" she muttered, glancing at Rafe's hands as he whisked the fluffy frosting. "Rafe, you're going to get it more clumpy."

"No, I won't."

"Rafe, I swear," she groaned, reaching over to grab the whisk only for him to turn around, laughing while she struggled to get him.

"I'm just making it more fluffier," he smiled, continuing to whisk the mixture without even looking at the white colloid. He was too busy looking at her, and he wondered if she knew about the small amount of flour powder that had gotten on the top of her nose.

"Was the coke good?"

"Huh?" she tilted her head, confused, and still angry at the way he was not listening to her.

"The nose. Was the coke good?"

(Y/N) gave him a look before going to the corner to stare at herself in the mirror, letting out a yelp when she saw the powdery stain on her nose. She quickly dusted them off, stalking back to the still-whisking boy, and she wondered about the amount of energy he had in him and how he was still not tired.

"Rafe! It's all clumped!" she sighed, finally having a hold on the large bowl. She took her a finger and tipped it into the mixture, pulling out before slipping the finger into her mouth. Her face scrunched up, and she reached for the glass of water by her side.

"What? It's more prettier. More texture-ish. If we're in Cake Wars, we'll be the winner."

"That's not how it works," she groaned, pouring the failed mixture into the sink and letting the water cleansed them off. "Now my cupcake's going to be naked."

"You know what can be naked too?"

She held up her middle finger, placing the wet bowl onto the counter and using the clean cloth to wipe it dry. "And I'm not giving these to the children's home naked. You have to help me, Rafe."

Rafe felt a smile tugging on his lips at the mention of 'children’s home', and he thought about how perfect could she be. She’s the epitome of the girl everyone wants to be - she's good in school, never using anyone's money for her, good at baking, and has a big heart?

He thought about how she's good in bed too, but he tired to shake the childish thought away.

"What can I do? Should I go to the store and get any Betty Crocker's frosting?" he offered, his hands in his pocket to reach for his keys. He watched as her shoulder slumped, and he felt bad for ruining her cake. He touched her shoulder, "Hey, I'm sorry. I didn't know it would actually be clumped. I thought it would get even more fluffier."

"You don't think, Rafe, that's why," she sighed, "But that's alright. Do you think you can help me make another one?"

"Are you sure? I don't want to ruin anything," he backed away, glancing at the sink and thinking about the clumped mixture making their way to the sewer.

"Yes. Can you reach for that sugar? That's flour, Rafe, god, yes, yes, okay, c'mere," she rolled her eyes, taking the container from him and dumping the content into the dried bowl. "Now, what do we do?"

"Put water?"

(Y/N) laughed, tilting her head to one side, trying to clutch her stomach from hurting. "Yeah, if you want the kids to get sick."

"Okay, Gordon, what should we do next?" he grunted, but he liked the lightness in the air. How the conversation flowed easily, and how quick he regained her trust to help her make whatever this is.

It was like she didn't care about the Rafe Cameron that gets into fights with the pogues or snorts coke when he's stressed. He felt like staying in this moment forever, wanting to help her bake whatever and watching her smile.

(Y/N) handed him the butter, muttering something along the words of 'dump them in', 'use the mixture', 'you're going to break your arms' and 'watch while it's whisking'.

He didn't care about the many orders she was giving him - he enjoyed it. He truly liked how his night was ending after a long day of bullshit, starting with his college sending him a letter for the vandalism he had caused outside of the Dean's office, Kelce and Topper going on a road trip without him and giving him the explanation of 'we asked you, and you said no'.

In truth, he didn't even remember anything about meeting them. His memory was starting to fade, and he shuddered at the thought of not knowing anyone when he reaches Ward's age.

"Okay, that's enough," she groaned, switching the button off. Rafe apologized quickly, being so caught up with his own thoughts, and waited for her next order.

"Choose the colour," she exclaimed happily, pointing out two different food dyes. "I can't choose!"

Rafe skimmed over the label that said 'blue' and 'pink', and made a face. "Are you going to give the blue ones to the boys and the pinks to the girls or something?"

"What? No?"

"Okay. . . why can't we just use both?"

"And make purple?"

"Yeah? Hey, look, I'm wearing blue and you're wearing pink!"

(Y/N) looked down to the ribbed top, noticing the colour, and her face turned into a red shade. Now everything's going to be awkward.

"Okay, purple it is," she rolled her eyes, giving him the blue bottle and taking the pink one for herself. "Three drops together. Are you ready?"

"Mhm."

"1."

Rafe licked his lips, so eager to watch the colour forming.

"2," she looked at him, and back to the frosting. "Rafe!"

"What?" he raised a brow, following her gaze and watching the blue dots on the frosting. He put his hand over his mouth, too stunned to say anything. "Oh my god, I'm so-"

(Y/N) laughed out loud, this time with her hands gripping onto the kitchen counter to stabilize herself, her mind rewinding back to his expression when he found out what he just did.

"Ha-ha, now you're just being an asshole," he rolled his eyes, but he was glad he had made her laugh. Instinctively, her laugh had made him feel better, and all of his worries dissipated into the air.

After a while, she tried to get ahold of herself to put the pink drops in, but failing to do so as his face kept appearing in her mind. Rafe groaned, having to wait for a few minutes now, and pulled her to feet. He pushed her against the counter, her back against his front as he trapped her.

"Don't laugh."

(Y/N) bit her lips, being in this position but not for what they usually do, and concentrated on dropping 3 drops of pink into the bowl. She cheered when she was done, pulling his hand away to move to the other side. The back of her neck was still hot, and she could still feel his arms around her.

"Mix it," Rafe smiled, leaning against the counter to watch as the mixer whisked the frosting, turning the pearly white colloid to a beautiful dark purple.

"It's dark!" she groaned, but she thought about how it still looked good, though it wasn't her expectation. Her job was almost finished now, and she could hear her bed calling.

"Now, the fun part," she smiled, taking her icing materials and placing them before his eyes. She watched as he laughed, being so excited as if he was a toddler seeing a playground for the first time.

"They used these in Cake Wars," he said proudly, showing her a nozzle.

"Stop with your Cake Wars," she mumbled, preparing the icing bag and giving Rafe one. "Put some frosting- not yet, Rafe, God, do you ever wait? Don't fill the bags too much, just in the middle, yes, just like that, and, wait, let me do mine."

She showed him how to do the perfect icing, practicing on a clean plate and asking him to do the same. He scoffed at her, saying how he got this, but what appeared was nothing more than a crooked line.

"That's nice," she muttered, sighing. "For a coming-out party."

Rafe groaned, trying to copy her artwork, and by the time it was 12.03 a.m., he had managed a copy of hers. Not literal, but there was a hint of hers in his.

"Okay. Now, Rafe, we'll make this quick. I do 80 cupcakes, and you do 20. Is that okay?"

"Yes, ma'am," he said, concentrating on his piping bag. He watched as she did the first cupcake, ending her icing perfectly and exclaiming happily as she put it aside. She looked at him, waiting.

"Don't look at me, you're making me nervous," he mumbled, and leaned to decorate the cupcake. It took him a total of 2 minutes, stopping at times and getting a yell from (Y/N), saying how he should not stop, and the result was impressive. At least to him.

"This will probably be in the rejected part of a bakery, you know, that they'll sell with a discount."

"Not everyone can do arts, (Y/N)," he rolled his eyes, but he truly enjoyed the joke.

It was nearing one in the morning when Rafe saw her sighing in relief, placing the last cupcake into the pastry box and safely storing them in the refrigerator. Her hair was in a bun, he had helped her put them up, and when she refused to let him help her, he gave her a poke.

"What? It's not like it's my first time putting your hair up."

"God, Rafe, you're impossible."

His eyes were almost shut, being so tired after being a cake decorator, and all he wished for was to pull her into her bed and sleep until the morning greets them. He waited until she was done cleaning all of the utensils, walking tiredly towards to him to wake him up.

"Get change, Rafe, I'm not letting you sleep in my bed with that shirt and that sweatpants."

"It's not a problem before," he mumbled, allowing himself to be pulled by her to the bedroom. He removed his shirt weakly, pulling off his sweatpants and jumping into the bed as soon as she closed the light. (Y/N) giggled lightly, noticing how adorable he was being, and she pinched his cheeks before she could stop herself.

"Take off your clothes."

"I'm not going to take off my clothes," she laughed, pulling down her shorts and getting into the bed beside him. She finally laid her back against the mattress, letting out the biggest relief ever as she tried to get comfortable.

He pulled her close towards him, breathing into her scent. She smelled like cupcakes, and he loved it.

"I'm going to the children's home with you."

"What?" she pulled a face, because she wasn't sure if she had heard him right. There was no way Rafe Cameron would ever step his foot into a children's home, what more to give out dark purple cupcakes.

"I'm going to the children's home with you. To give them cupcakes."

(Y/N) smiled and kissed his cheeks. "Okay."

"And we should do this again."

"Okay."

"Goodnight, Rafe," she laughed lightly, placing another peck before closing her eyes.

He placed a long kiss fully on her lips, feeling the butterflies soaring in his stomach. "Goodnight, (Y/N)."

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@okayshoto @joselyn001 @onceuponateenagetrash @dyingsleep @im19yearsold @iwannabeapogue @meaganjm @rafesobxs @flossy2929 @drewstarkeyluver @unfortunatekiwitrash @Mellifluouszayn @hhishho @hvrcruxes @scottybitch @asimpwriter @starxqt @amaya124 @Made212 @adriee16 @eggirl @tommy-tommo @thatshithurted8 @beyatch012 @fallincindy @marvelwhor3 @rafeswh0ree @kookap @supernaturallydc-blog @blank-velvet @alaniskauany @lumzs @kiiim8 @witchywrter @kaitlyn2907 @heyimflo @overcookedpastasause @tsukkiswifeey @spidey-d00d @anonymousobxfan @gotmeinloveagain @chicagoblackhawkslover96 @lexi-writes @Emmalvei_03 @classydragonthingknight @belongtoyou-u

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagines #drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey imagines #rafe cameron smuts #rafe cameron fluff #outerbanks #outerbanks imagines #outerbanks x reader

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strangelysamantha · 3 years

Note

hi can i request a blurb or a whole imagine where jj rlly likes reader but she’s a kook and his friends don’t like her that much, 💗 thank u

hatred runs out ❀

jj maybank x kook!reader.

warnings: swearing, hateful feelings, that’s all.

words: 2,015.

summary: you are a kook, you were trying to befriend the pogues as they made you happier than you had been in months. the only downside, none of them were quite welcoming, besides jj.

request? yes!

a/n: my ask box is open, send away! i’m working on multiple imagines that should come later! like and comment if you enjoy this. thanks for the request! <3

my masterlist

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“she’s a kook jj, i mean, you aren’t seriously crushing on her? are you?” john b looked up at jj, and frowned when he saw he wasn’t laughing. “john b, i don’t know what it is man, but she’s different. i just know it.” john b cackled, “she’s not different. she’s a kook, i mean come on… she hangs out with topper. that says enough.” jj rolled his eyes, obviously annoyed. “you just don’t like her because she associates with sarah’s ex.” he shakes his head. “no, that’s not the reason jj. your mind is just fogged up, because you clearly aren’t thinking straight.” jjs anger was boiling up, and before he did something he would regret, he decided to just walk off.

jj stormed away. he continued walking despite john bs attempt of calling out to him to stop. he was trying to clear his mind, he genuinely liked you, so much that he felt the need to tell john b. jj wouldn’t usually be this upset, but when john b of all people disapproves because you are a kook, when the girl he is dating is sarah, it angers him. after ten minutes of air, and chilling out, he returns to john bs house.

once inside he sees you and kie. he was completely caught off guard. “oh? you’re here.” jj spoke to you, causing you to look up. “hey jj. yeah, i decided to stop by before my shift. do you want to join us? we’re playing uno.” your smile immediately lifts a smile to jj's face. “sure i’ll play some uno.” he approaches the table, and you deal him seven cards.

kie was the only one who semi liked you. obviously she wasn't ecstatic about you, but she was open to tolerating you. as time went on, she started to enjoy your company, she realized you weren’t that bad, and despite being a kook, the two of you related on many things.

“first card is a yellow two. jj can go first.” you stare at him, waiting patiently for his move. his heart was beating fast, as he tried to pick a card. as he placed a yellow seven, john b walked in. “why is she here?” you didn’t miss the sharp tone that lingered in john bs voice. “oh, i decided to stop by. i’m sorry, i should have asked.” you stand up, reaching for your jacket. “that’s right. you should have asked. you can’t just show up to someone’s house randomly. it’s weird.” you frown, not realizing until now that he didn’t trust you enough to even be considered an acquaintance.

“she’s welcomed here whenever she wants to be, john b.” jj spoke up for you. kie backing him up by softly saying yeah. “no. she’s not. it’s my house jj, and i don’t appreciate you inviting random kook strangers over. she’s not a pogue. she’s not like us. meaning; she’s not welcomed here.” you frown at his words. you quickly feel out of place and you rush to the door, pulling your shoes on. “i’m going to go.” you spoke up, grabbing your purse. “good. see you!” john b exclaimed, watching you walk out the front door and down the steps.

“what the fuck bro?” jj stared at john b waiting for an explanation. “what?” jjs eyes narrowed on his, he couldn’t be serious could he? “why do you always do that shit bro? i mean honestly. what makes her any different from sarah?” john b shakes his head. “don’t even compare them. they aren't similar.”

jj scoffs, “oh they’re not?” jj begins to expose the similarities but john b shuts it down immediately. “jj i’m not going to explain myself to you anymore. i don’t like her, and i don’t want her over here.” jj groans in frustration. “if only you got to know her man, then you’d know how amazing she is. i mean ask kie. kie thought she was annoying at first and now they can be in the same room without being in a yelling match.” kie nodded, listening in but staying mostly silent.

“fine. the only reason i’m agreeing is because you hate kooks too, which means you might be right. about her.” john b sighs, giving up. “thank you. please, even if you decide you still don’t like her, please just consider getting to know her.” he pleads, “i already said i will.” john b rolled his eyes, jj smiles, “okay. we should invite her to hang out with us after pope gets off work.” they all nod in agreement, planning something so they could see if they wanted you to join their party.

the pogues had planned on inviting you to the wreck, and then to a mini trip on the hms pogue, for a boat ride. you were ecstatic, excited that they wanted to actually hang out with you. you think hard, trying to find a perfect outfit. you didn’t want to overdress, or underdress, and you didn’t want to look bad. after deciding on a simple outfit and swimsuit, you head to the wreck.

you see the group in the back corner. when you walk inside, jj is the first to spot you. a smile spreads to his lips, as he waves you over to join them. you sit down by john b, jj sitting on the other side of you. “hey.” you say shyly, not entirely sure if this whole thing was a set up. you were hopeful it wasn’t, but you could never be too sure.

“hey, thanks for coming.” pope said. you smile brightly at him, “thanks for inviting me.” pope nods. your stomach was hurting by how nervous you were. jj made small talk with you, as you guys were waiting for kiara. you weren’t entirely sure what they were planning, you were just glad to be a part of it.

“alright guys. here’s the scraps.” kiara walked to your table, setting down a bowl of fries, and then a plaster of burgers. you smile softly, jj and john b immediately grabbing the food. you wait, not entirely hungry since you ate before you left. jj offered you a bite of his burger, “oh thanks!” you laugh slightly as you bite from where he had bitten, enjoying the taste, “hey you actually have mustard right there.” you smiled as you spread mustard on jj’s face. you couldn’t help the giggles erupting from you, as jj’s mouth opened wide in shock. “oh really? well you seem to have some ketchup-” his finger rubbed ketchup on your cheek. “all over…” he gestured to your face. “hey! give me a napkin.” you ask for a napkin and jj laughs. “no.” you immediately look over to pope, giving him a smile. “may i have a napkin?” you ask. he smiles, “sorry jay.” he hands you a napkin and you wipe the ketchup off your face.

“thank you pope. i like you. unlike some people at this table…” you look at jj and he’s just smiling like a maniac. pope laughs. “glad that you think so highly of me just because i handed you a napkin.” you nod, eating a french fry before glancing at john b. he was awfully quiet. “john b?” you question. he looks up at you. “yes?” annoyance already rolling off his tongue. “are you okay?” he rolled his eyes. “yes. even if i wasn’t, i wouldn’t confide in you about it.” you frown.

you wait a second, trying to think of how to lighten the mood. “you know what we need to do?” you look from pope to jj, to finally john b, poking at his arm. “what?” john b looks up at you. you tap jj’s stomach, indicating to him to stand up. he stands up, making room for you to be able to move out of the booth. you poke john bs side. “we need to dance.” you grab john b's hand, doing anything possible to lighten his mood. his frown was still hung on his lips. he hesitated and followed you to the middle of the restaurant. jj and pope stay back at the booth.

you lean over the counter, asking kie to play a song she knows john b would enjoy. “john b. you just need to calm down, and relax. you just need to dance like nobody's watching.” he stares at you, shocked. “it’s okay. i’ll do it with you.” his favorite song started playing, and you began to awkwardly dance. he laughed at your ridiculous moves. he held back from joining in, he didn’t want you to win. you began to break out dancing, and he can’t help but laugh. you look up as someone enters the restaurant. a smile flies to your face. “sarah!!!” she runs up to you.

“hey!!! i didn’t know you guys would be here.” you smile, still swaying slightly to the music. “sarah i would have definitely invited you if i knew you were free.” she nodded at your words. “all good girly, we still good for monday?” you smile, “of course.” john b stared, confused by this whole interaction. not only did you know sarah, you were actually friends with her. you had plans to hang out with her. maybe he was wrong, maybe jj was the one who was right. maybe, you actually were similar to sarah.

“do you want to join us?” you ask, sarah grabbed your hand spinning you around before breaking out in a fit of laughter. “stay another minute here with you losers… i’ll pass.” you jokingly act offended, “hey!” she shakes her head. “only kidding. i definitely would, but my dad wants me home. he claims he has a fun night planned but it’ll probably just consist of watching a movie and eating from here.” you nod. “well have fun with that.” you spoke, she smiles, “you know i always do.” you roll your eyes at her joke, she walks away grabbing her to go food before she disappears from the restaurant. “hey i’m gonna go take a sip of water.” you move back to the booth, jj refusing to move so you end up sitting on his lap. you sip water as you catch your breath from dancing.

john b heads straight to kiara. “how long have they been friends?” he asked abruptly. “her and sarah?” kie questions, pointing at you. he nods, “yeah.” kiara laughs, “they’ve been buddies for years. they didn’t get super close until a month or two ago.” he nods at her words. he was still shocked. he looked back at the booth, seeing you sat on jjs lap, his hands held firmly around your waist. you were speaking to pope, and he actually looked interested in what you were saying.

john b had just realized that he had the wrong idea of who you were. whether sarah made him realize that or not, he definitely didn’t want to hold a grudge with you, especially if sarah was your friend. john b walked back to the table, his attention on you. kiara had followed swiftly behind him. “let’s raise a toast.” the group was confused but they lifted their cups of water anyway. “to the newest member of our club.” his glass pointed in your way, his cup clashing with yours. you smile. john b was the only one you were worried about, and now he was saying he welcomes you.

the group cheers as you smile brightly. “thank you guys! i’m so excited for our future adventures.” you drink from your glass. the group waited for kiara’s shift to end before taking the hms pogue for a ride. you were sat by jj, pope to your left. kiara and john b talking as they directed the boat.

“well, welcome. you made it.” pope smiles, laughing slightly. “i did, isn’t that crazy. john b hated me like 6 hours ago.” jj laughs, “classic john b for you.” you nod at his words. pope, jj, john b, kiara, and you, talked all night, watching the stars as you guys got closer. it was so much fun, and today’s events allowed you to become a permanent group member.

#jj x kook!reader #jj maybank x fem!reader #fiction #writing #jj maybank obx #jj x fem!reader #jj maybank x reader angst #jj maybank fanfic #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank story #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank angst #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank short imagine #jj maybank x you #jj maybank x y/n

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shorkbrian · 3 years

Text

Man I am so freaking horny

-----

You don’t understand why you feel so flushed and warm the longer dinner goes on. Thighs almost trembling with how they’re twitching as you struggle not to rub them together to stimulate your dick. Mom and dad and Kiri are all here with you - you weren’t going to touch yourself in front of them no matter how hard you got.

But you also couldn’t get up and go take care of your problem in the bathroom, they’d see your little cock pressing against your basketball shorts, begging for attention. They might even see the way it throbs as it fills even more full with blood, hot to the touch and begging for attention.

You’ll have to wait for mom and dad to finish, for Kiri to finish.

“We’ll clean up, won’t we bro?” A boisterous voice breaks into your thoughts of how it’ll feel when you can finally touch yourself later, and you flush deeply as you bring your attention back to the conversation.

“Um...” Is there a way for you to get out of cleaning? You don’t know how much longer you’ll be able to stand keeping your hands away from your lap. You’ve started sweating. Hopefully nobody will notice.

“Yeah, we’ll clean while you and dad go start that movie you’ve been talking about. We don’t mind.” Kirishima smiles when your unfocused gaze finds him across from you at the table.

Mom and dad take so long leaving, chatting about this and that and the other, dad taking so long to chew, the pair of them deciding to suddenly break out wine to take to the living room with them.

Kirishima’s already up and moving around the table, gathering plates and cups as he slowly begins to clear it off.

The second dad and mom disappear through the doorway, you make a break for it.

“I’ll be right back, gotta go use the bathro-” The napkin you have clutched against your front is tugged away, Kirishima suddenly so much closer than he was before.

“Look at how hard you are, that’s so cute.”

“Wha-Kir-Hey!” A yelp escapes your throat as your stepbrother reaches into your shorts, followed by a low groan as his hand makes contact with your swollen cock. Fuck, your hips twitch forward as soon as you feel his fingers.

“Boys! No fighting!”

Slitted red eyes are focused on your face, watching you close your eyes and pant as the redhead starts to slowly stroke you, up and down, thumbing over your tip, chuckling a little. “Yeah, no fighting. Just let that shit flow through your system. It’s workin’ real nice so far.”

Did he.... did he drug you?

Maybe that’s why your skin is so hot. Why you don’t mind your stepbrother’s hands working over your cock. Why your hips keep humping forward, why you’re falling against him until he practically has to hold you up as he chuckles darkly.

“C’mere.” You feel like whining when his hand retracts from your shorts, leaving you with a hard-on that almost hurt, but then he’s tugging you forward, pushing your shoulder so you’ll bend over the table.

You don’t want to bend over the table, you want him to keep touching you.

But everything’s so foggy, and you’re so weak compared to the beast that is Kirishima - it’s easy for him to manhandle you into place and pull your shorts down to your knees.

Hands cup your balls and you gasp, melting into the touch as the hand travels upward to pull your dick so it’s no longer trapped between your stomach and the table top. Now it’s pressing against the edge of the table, heavy and flushed between your legs and you’re struggling not to wiggle - you want to cum.

You want to cum so bad that it no longer feels like a want, it feels like a need.

“Kiri, kiri please.” Everything’s burning hot, and you’re going to cry if he doesn’t touch you again, you need to cum so bad you’re humping the table like a stupid mutt, dirtying mom’s tablecloth.

“God, that’s so hot.” And then Kirishima wraps a hand around your dick, and starts jacking you off with intent.

He’s got a solid rhythm, hard and fast and you can’t stop the ragged little pants coming from your mouth, the raspy, tiny moans you can’t keep inside as you writhe. He’s going so fast, you’re gonna cum, oh, fuck, you’re gonna cumfeelssogoodkiri-!

Kirishima pulls your orgasm from you so fast that it leaves you lightheaded, arousal still pulsing through your stomach even as you shoot your load onto your basketball shorts, where your stepbrother is pointing your dick.

His other hand starts playing with your balls.

“That was fast. ‘S okay though, this little guy-” Here he flicks at your exposed tip, and you sag against the table with a flinch, knees knocking together. “Won’t be going down anytime soon. We’ll have all night.”

The sound of an exaggerated explosion floats in from the living room, followed by gunfire. The reminder that mom and dad are barely a room away makes you bite your lip, eyes squeezing shut even as you start humping against your brothers hand again.

“What did you-what did you do to me?” And you sound so pathetic, like a child, but you can’t help the way you’re whining. His hand feels so good, not doing anything but rubbing idly at your cock, other hand fondling your balls.

Kirishima leans over you, licks at your ear. He’s hard, you can feel him against the side of your ass, erection prominent through his jeans. “I’ll fuck you in front of mom and dad, wouldn’t that be so hot? I’ll tuck you under a blanket and finger you open while we watch that movie with them, and then when you’re all stretched out? I’ll pull you onto my lap and start grinding into you real slow, slow enough so that they won’t notice.”

No, oh no - he’s wrapping his fingers around you fully again, starting to squeeze at your cock.

“I’ll show you how to cum without touching your dick. Won’t be able to give you a handie with our parents right there, y’know? But ‘s okay, I’ll find the right angle and rub against your prostate and crush it, milk you real good.”

Your hips stuttered forward and you whimpered, clawing at the table. You couldn’t control yourself, entirely subject to the whims of your overly-aroused body.

Kiri huffed out a laugh at your desperation.

“First though, you’re gonna blow me while I’m doing the dishes, alright? You can touch yourself as much as you want to while you do though, I don’t mind a little show. You like jerkin’ yourself off real fast? You came so fast the first time.”

One, two, three, four quick strokes of Kiri’s hand left you reeling, choking on air as pleasure dropped into your tummy like a rock.

“Or you like it slower? Build yourself up to it for a while?”

Your brother slowed his pace, fully relishing the slick, wet sounds his hand was creating as he leisurely fisted your dick.

“Wait, ‘m gonna-gonna-” You tried to babble out a warning, but it was too late.

But Kirishima stroked you through it, rubbing the tip and giving it extra attention just to see you writhe that much more before his hands finally left your body.

You felt like you could barely breathe.

Kiri reached down, pulled up your shorts for you and snapped the waistband against your skin, completely oblivious (Or did he do this on purpose?) to the fact that your cum was pooled on the inside, wet and gross against your skin.

“I guess you like both, but hey, I don’t judge. You look so hot when you’re cumming though, all shaky and desperate and cute like that.” The praise made your ears heat up with shame.

“Grab the dishes off the table on your way into the kitchen, okay? Mom and dad won’t like it if we slack off.”

In a daze, you simply did as you were told, picking up the dishes before slowly following beside Kirishima.

He smiled down at you, shark teeth on display.

Kirishima was a pervert.

#kirishima #male reader #perv kiri #stepbrothers kiri #tw.dubcon #tw.aphrodisiac #tw.dark content #kiri #kirishima x reader #Kirishima smut #kirishima imagine #Kirishima Eijirou #eijirou #eijirou x reader #eiji #kirishima eijiro x reader #Kirishima eijiro

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saynotoshityouhate · 3 years

Text

My Turn (Ben Sackler x Reader)

A/N: This is the story of Ben Sackler - the sweetest, goodest boy with the horniest horndog inside him. He’s smart, goofy, and your best friend. This blend of Ben Solo and Adam Sackler came about while talking to my friend @weareallstoriesintheend and it’s safe to say we love him very much. I hope you love him as much as we do. I wrote this on my phone so please forgive any errors.

Words: 1918

Tags: domestic violence (just a little), friends to lovers, fingering and piv

Ben takes off his glasses, rubbing his bleary eyes, having stared at the same spreadsheet all day. The data wasn’t making sense, the numbers turning to hieroglyphs - a jumble of who knows what. His phone rumbles on the desk next to him. Picking it up, he smiles his signature goofy grin upon seeing your name light up the screen.

Bennyyyyyy! Step away from the computer and come over? I ordered too much pizza again and if you don’t get here soon I’ll eat it all. Pleeeeeeeaseeee?

He chuckled to himself and replied a quick “on my way” before shutting work down for the evening. There’s nothing he wouldn’t do for you, he’d run across the city if you asked him.

You and Ben Sackler had been friends since you moved to the city. For a short while you had dated one of his roommates, a real asshole who Ben had tried to warn you about. One night Ben returned home from work and saw him slap you across the face. Ben rushed to your side, punching his roommate square in the jaw before sweeping you out of the door and down the street to a local diner, where he ordered you both burgers and milkshakes and held you while you cried. He was your knight in shining armor, and you were inseparable ever since.

“Door’s open!” You shouted, hearing Ben’s signature knock. You shook your head, why he still knocked at this point was past you. He basically lived at your apartment.

“Hey, kiddo. Did you save me a slice?” Ben kicked off his boots, dropping his heavy messenger bag on the floor with a thud. His voice was deep and mumbly, thick with exhaustion from a long work week.

You knelt up from your seat on the sofa, feet folded beneath you as you held your arms out to hug him. “Of course I did, Benny Boy, that was just one time when I got super hangry. Will you never let me live it down?” He wrapped his arms around you, giving you a quick squeeze before plopping down next to you. “Probably not, no.” He winked at you before opening the pizza box on the table to grab a slice.

“So,” Ben spoke, mouth full of pizza, “Who are we mourning this week? Anti-vaxxer bro? The vegan lacrosse player? That girl with the neck tattoo?” You rolled your eyes. Ben knew about every person you had ever had a failed talking phase with. He was the first person you ran to when someone broke your heart. “No, we aren’t mourning anyone tonight. It’s just me and you and this pizza.” You extended your slice toward his to touch them together. “Cheers!”

Ben smiled, not only at the adorable pizza cheers, but also knowing you were happy spending time with him for no reason other than spending time with him. He took another bite, completely happy and content being in your presence. “So. Ben. Are you finally going to let me make you a dating profile?” Ben choked on his pizza. “Seriously? I don’t know…that doesn’t seem like a good use of anyone’s time.” He avoided your gaze, his cheeks tinging the slightest pink.

Ben hadn’t been on many, possibly any, dates since you knew him. He was always working, or traveling, and avoiding your offers to help set him up with friends. “Sackler. You’re a catch! You’re hot, successful, well read. Hell, I’d date you!” Ben spit out his drink at your final words, shocked to hear you say them. “Shiiiiit…” he cursed, grabbing napkins to clean up the mess he had made.

“Wow. No need to be so disgusted at the idea!” You crossed your arms over your chest. Mostly joking - but also…why not? “Come on, y/n, you don’t mean that.” Ben mumbled, focusing on mopping up his mess as you looked on with a furrowed brow. “Ben?” You shuffled closer to his side of the couch, placing your hand on his bicep. “Benny? What’s wrong?” Ben looked at your hand, and looked at you, your eyes deep with concern.

“Y/n, I…” Ben removes his glasses and rubs his eyes. “I should go…” Ben stood to leave, your hand gripping on to the sleeve of his black sweater, causing a small rip at the collar. “Shit, I’m so sorry, please don’t leave? Tell me what’s going on?” Ben’s back was turned to you, the broad muscles showing through the tight black sweater.

You stood, walking to stand behind Ben, placing one hand on his shoulder. He turned, his caramel eyes meeting yours - warm, worried…loving? He stepped forward, the space between you dissolving to nothingness. He placed one hand on your cheek, rubbing your cheekbone with his thumb. Your heart beats out of your chest, pounding in your ears. “Ben…” you exhaled, hot breath fanning out across his chest.

Ben leaned down, placing his pillowy, pink lips on yours. Your eyes fluttered closed, inhaling his piney cologne as you kissed him. You popped up on your tiptoes, wrapping your arms around his neck, smiling into him. You pulled away for a moment, looking up at him with a cheeky grin. “Sackler! You dog! Been holding out on me this whole time!” Ben’s eyes darkened, licking his bottom lip, tasting the bit of you your lips had left behind. His voice deepened as he pressed his forehead against yours. “Oh, y/n, you have absolutely no idea…”

He grabbed the backs of your thighs, lifting you up to straddle his waist. You yelped and giggled, knowing he was strong but not that strong! He recaptured your lips in his, a low growl bubbling in his chest. His kiss became hungry, bruising, needy. His tongue traced your bottom lip, and at your slightest acceptance, it dove inside, tangling itself with yours. You moaned into his mouth, a flood of warmth pooled between your legs. You couldn’t help but laugh - who’d have thought your innocent pizza invitation would have led to this?

Ben pulled away abruptly, looking down at you with a scowl, his chest heaving as he caught his breath. “Why are you laughing? Is this funny to you?” You gasped, eyes wide. “No! Ben, I was just thinking…” Ben dropped his arms from beneath you, your legs falling to the floor. His hands found your hips and spun you around, pushing you over the arm of the couch. “Less thinking, kid, more making up for lost time.”

He ripped your leggings and panties down your legs, leaving your ass bare and pointing up at him. He kneaded at your cheeks with his large hands. “Fuck, I’ve wanted to do this for so long.” He pulled your ass apart, exposing your glistening folds. “Looks like you’ve wanted this too, isn’t that right y/n?” You looked back at him, jaw agape…speechless. He reached one hand down, running a single finger through your wetness, drawing a whimper from your throat. Your eyes followed that finger up to Ben’s lips, salivating as he tasted you, his eyes closing as he hummed happily. “Sweeter than I could have ever imagined, y/n.”

“Benny! Don’t tease!” You whined, wiggling your hips at him, needing more contact. He chuckled. “I’ve waited a long time for this, I don’t plan to rush.” He took one thick finger and pressed at your opening, your wetness allowing for ease of entry as he slowly pushed inside. “Mmmmm, B-Ben….” You groaned, pushing your face into the cushions. “Feels so…good…” Ben smiled, leaning to place a wet kiss at the base of your spine, your shirt riding up with your positioning over the side of the sofa. “I’m glad. Need to be sure you’re ready, ready for all of me.”

Ben slowly pumped his one finger inside you, dragging it along your innermost walls. When you were ready, he added a second, his other hand circling around your hips to rub at your clit. “Fuuuuuck, y/n, you feel so good around my fingers. Can’t wait to feel you around my cock.” You moaned at the fullness you felt, and imagined how impossibly full you would feel with Ben inside you.

Ben was painfully hard inside his dress pants. He couldn’t take it anymore. He removed his fingers and you whined loudly at the loss of him. “Lay back on the couch for me, kid. I wanna watch you fall apart for me.” You pushed yourself up, moving around to lay back on the cushions, removing your shirt and bra, and allowing your legs to fall open as you waited. Ben’s eyes widened as he gazed over your naked form. Your eyes sparkled back up at him. He swallowed thickly. “You’re…so beautiful.” Your cheeks warmed, and you smiled. “Thank you, you’re not so bad yourself. Now get over here, Sackler!”

Ben whipped his ripped sweater over his head, unbuckled his belt and pushed his bottoms down to his ankles. His freed cock bobbed against his abdomen, precum dribbling out. He smiled, unbelievably happy to be with you, in this exact moment.

“You know how long I’ve wanted this? Wanted you? Since the first fucking day you stepped foot in our apartment.” He stepped towards you, kneeling on the cushions in front of you. He crawled over you, his dark hair falling into his face. “Really?” You brushed some of his hair out of his eyes, tracing his face with your fingertips. Why hadn’t you really seen him until now?

Ben nodded, closing his eyes into your touch. He opened them only to reach between you, aligning his well endowed length with your eagerly awaiting opening. “And then, after the break up, I had to wait…again! Watching one person hurt you after the next and holding you while you cried, fuck!” He slowly pushed himself inside, his eyes rolling back in his head as he reveled in the feeling of your warmth around him. “Ben!” You cried out, as your walls fluttered around him.

“Shit, kid, you feel so fucking good.” Ben leaned down to kiss you, passionately, before pulling out slowly. He looked deep into your eyes and whispered, his lips ghosting over yours. “I’m going to make you forget those other people ever existed. It’s only us now.” You whimpered, pulling his face down to kiss you again as he snapped his hips. “Fuck, Ben! Please…ruin me for anyone else, Ben. There’s only you!” He grinned, setting a relentless pace, your living room echoing with the wet slapping of the two of you together.

“It’s my turn, y/n. And I don’t plan on letting it become anyone else’s turn anytime soon. Understand? Say it!” You cried out, the coil in your stomach beginning to snap. “Yes! Ben! I’m yours, only yours!” Ben grunted as he punctuated the snapping of his hips, putting everything he had into the final few thrusts before you snapped, gripping his cock and pulling him with you over the edge. You both moaned out each other's names as you came together.

Ben collapsed on top of you, resting his dark hair on your chest. His legs hung off the sides of the couch, too long to fit comfortably. You ran your fingers through his hair, humming happily. “Was everything you said just now…true? Do you mean it?” Ben nuzzled his face into your chest, long arms wrapped around your middle. “Yes, y/n…every word.”

You kissed the top of his head and smiled. “Good. I’m happy to be yours, Benny.”

#Adam sackler #ben solo #adam sackler x y/n #ben solo x y/n #Ben Sackler #Ben Sackler x y/n #adcu #adcu community #adam sackler x reader #ben solo x reader #Ben Sackler x reader #saynotoshityouhate #weareallstoriesintheend

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jincherie · 3 years

Text

four’s company | rapline [m]

✘ — pairing: boxer!rapline x male!reader ✘ — genre: smut!, boxer au, poly au ✘ — wc: 6.4k ✘ — rating: 18+ ✘ — warnings: minor injuries (occupational hazard kind), smut: mxm, light (accidental) voyeurism, light hand kink, baby boy reader, sub/bottom reader, dom/top members, foursome, anal sex, protected sex (don’t forget to wrap ‘em, lads and ladies!), fellatio ✘ — notes: part of a fic exchange within the ghostie network, i’m sorry it’s late!!!!! please accept my humblest apologies!!! @bangtanloverboys here you go!! i hope it’s not too shitty!!!

If accidentally walking in on your three crushes in a heated moment, not once, not twice, but thrice isn’t enough to capture their attention, then you don’t know what is. You’re about to find out that you’ve had their attention for a while, though.

— posted; 02.01.2021 || masterlist

For what is far from the first time tonight, you feel the weight of a certain gaze.

Well, to be more specific, it hasn’t just been one gaze you’ve felt on you tonight. More like… three.

You know who they belong to, unfortunately. It’s the same three people that you found in an… interesting situation earlier. On that was, no doubt, not meant for outside eyes.

Well, you say that, but you feel like that’s just because you, yourself, are mortified. To be honest, the three boxers you found locking lips and making out in the locker room didn’t seem to be all that ashamed about it.

In fact, when they caught you in the motion of fleeing, they’d had the audacity to grin about it!

Utterly humiliating. You haven’t been able to bring your gaze anywhere near them all day. To make matters worse, you couldn’t even flee to the safety of your home or anywhere similar, because there is a match tonight and you’re needed as a qualified first aid officer.

Which brings you to the current predicament; sitting ringside and attempting to avoid the gazes of the three boxers seated on the side adjacent. Try as you might, it’s actually a struggle to keep your eyes on the current match. It’s a rookie night, and you feel extra bad since one of the people in the ring is actually a close friend.

Though, perhaps you should demote Jungkook from ‘close friend’ status considering he is the reason you started working here and subsequently, had the opportunity to stumble upon a certain scenario this morning. Were it not for him and his stupid, pleading puppy eyes, you wouldn’t have a particular embarrassing image burned into the back of your eyelids.

You know that despite his rookie status, Jungkook is quite a naturally talented boxer. Perhaps that is part of the reason that your brain thinks it’s okay to let your eyes stray from the match instead of watching attentively as you’re expected to. The subconscious certainty that Jungkook can handle himself seems to be your undoing, because in a moment of inattentiveness your eyes manage to reach the area you’d been trying so hard for them to avoid.

As you’d both feared and expected, they are in fact already looking at you. Well, one of the three. It is the piercing gaze of the club's current lightweight champion, Min Yoongi, that bores a hole into you right now. The two accomplices to his side aren't joining him in drilling their eyes into you across the room for now, instead leaning into each other as though they're whispering amongst themselves.

There's something about Yoongi's eyes, dark and piercing, that seem to always root you in place no matter where you are. His expression, as it usually tends to be, is unreadable. It's a certain kind of neutrality that graces his features, thin enough that you can tell there is something behind it but too opaque for you to be able to discern exactly what.

You don't even realise you're trapped in his gaze until the sounding of the bell snaps you out of the spell that seemed to be cast over you. Your head whips back around and you see the referee signalling the end of the bout, and just beyond him Jungkook is standing slightly bent over as he offers a hand to his opponent on the canvas. To your alarm, it is only now that you notice the blood dribbling down the man’s face. The reasonable crowd that has gathered is still cheering (Jungkook was quick to rise as one of the fan favourites) and it’s a wonder you can hear the referee’s call above the ruckus.

“Medic!”

That’s your cue.

x – x – x

“You look kind of on edge, man. Are you alright?”

You’re almost too busy staring into your coffee in a borderline dissociative state to hear Jungkook as he calls for your attention. It has to be about the thirteenth time in the past half hour, but you can’t find the energy to be ashamed about it. Mostly because all of your shame and embarrassment are focused on other areas right now.

It had happened again.

Is it just your luck? You don’t know whether to dub it as rotten luck, because you feel it would be a bit of an insult to the boxers you’d once more found in a suggestive situation. But considering it good luck feels kind of sleazy, because although you’re embarrassed as hell, all things considered what you walked in on wasn’t a bad view—

No, that thought is stopping there. Any further and you’ll only incriminate yourself and you’ll have to dose yourself with another fresh shot of shame.

Realising that you still haven’t answered the concerned-looking boy sprawled in the chair to your side, you offer him a non-committal grunt. It’s the best you can do while you take another moment to form actual coherent thought.

“I’ve never been better,” you say, and immediately Jungkook lets loose an abrupt snort.

“You look like shit, so don’t bother trying to lie. Are you having trouble sleeping again or something?”

You survey him for a moment, touched that he remembers the insomnia that had ailed you for a few months a while back. “Actually, I’ve been sleeping pretty good the past few months.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes, making you squint at him in question. “Oh, I’ll bet you have, considering the things you were saying in your sleep last time I stayed over.”

You simply look at him, wondering whether he’s going to be an ass and continue. You don’t have to wait long for an answer.

“You were all like, ‘nngh, Namjoon,’ and ‘oh, Yoongi’, and then you said something about Hoseok too but I can’t quite remember, probably because it was so x-rated that my poor baby brain banished it from my memory—”

“Jungkook,” you cut him off, gripping the plastic spoon that came with your drink painfully tight. “Shut up.”

This is most definitely not the conversation to be having in the café barely a block away from the boxing gym where the two of you frequent, but Jungkook doesn’t seem to get the hint. Actually, you’re pretty sure he got the hint and he just doesn’t care enough to heed it.

“You really ought to do something about that crush of yours, bro. There’s three of them, so there’s three times the misery if you sit on your ass instead of—”

“Jungkook,” you attempt to warn him again, glaring slightly this time. You’ve scooped some of the whipped cream off of his plate of pancakes and hold the tip of the spoon back, threatening to fling it at him should he keep talking.

“—doing something, you know? I’ve seen them practically undress you with their eyes enough times by now that I could fill out a diary with all the incidents I’ve witnessed. Plus, don’t tell me you haven’t noticed how often they ‘hurt’ themselves as an excuse to see you? I really don’t think you have much to lose, especially with an ass like yours—well, it’s nothing like the cake I’m serving, but still, it deserves some praise—ACK!”

Ah, so he has chosen death.

You discard the now-empty spoon onto a napkin, taking a long sip of your drink. It seems Jungkook has engaged his ape brain more today than usual as instead of wiping the cream off his face like any normal human would, he’s attempting to reach it with his tongue. His chances aren’t good, to be honest; though you reckon your mutual friend Jimin would be able to get it from that distance. Dude has a tongue like a lizard.

“You have Seven Days,” you tell him, struggling not to let a smile through as the amateur boxer whines, unable to reach the cream.

“You have seven days,” he grumbles sulkily, reaching with a begrudging hand for a napkin. “Do something or I’ll expose your ass.”

You roll your eyes, ninety-nine percent sure that he’s kidding.

…

That other one percent worries you a bit though.

x – x – x

You take back what you decided earlier— something is definitely wrong with your luck.

“And how did you hurt your knee again?”

“I tripped on the stairs.”

Jung Hoseok, the club’s current star welterweight boxer, sits before you in your little medical office. There aren’t any matches on today, but you’re on shift because the club members are doing some of the more rigorous training; there is an important few matches coming up for a few members, and they all want to be as prepared as possible. As tends to be the occupational hazard, training can often lead to injuries that need to be immediately attended to.

You can’t say, though, that this is the type you were expecting when you rocked up today.

Hoseok is beaming at you, all sincerity and sparkles. There’s a slight bit of dark regrowth in his hair that catches your eye as you survey him, the crimson ends sticking to his forehead lightly from sweat. He looks every bit earnest and honest as he sits in front of you, but you can’t help but suspect him just slightly.

Because you’re not sure any of the club members have ever made their way to your office for a graze that wouldn’t even phase a kindergartener.

“Well,” you say, trying to ignore what Jungkook had said barely a day or two ago that floats back into your head now. “The good news is, it’s not fatal.”

Hoseok lets out a great, dramatic huff in relief. “Oh, thank god. I was so scared this might have been the end.”

‘Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed how often they ‘hurt’ themselves as an excuse to see you?’

Is that what this is? An excuse to see you? A look spared for the man before you leads you to conclude: probably not. He’s a little too radiant to be seeking out lil’ ol’ you.

“Not this time,” you say, rummaging through your small box of mismatched bandages. Finding what you’re looking for, you turn back around and begin preparing it to place it on Hoseok’s knee. “You live to see another day.”

Hoseok shifts like he’s about to say something in response, but cuts himself off with a surprised laugh when he sees the band-aid you put on him. “Wh—you have Minions band-aids?!”

“I reserve them for special patients,” you say before you can stop yourself, promptly clamping your mouth shut a little too late. Your cheeks… you just hope the heat gathering there isn’t obvious.

Something shifts in Hoseok’s gaze as he surveys you for a moment, before hopping from the bed, testing his knee out like he’d sprained it instead of scratching it. The look is gone before you can fully decipher it and he’s back to grinning brightly once more.

“Well, if that’s the case, I’ll have to come back often. Wouldn’t want them to go to waste.” Hoseok’s smile adopts a slightly cheeky edge as he makes his way to the door, lifting two fingers to his temple in a lazy salute. “See you later, doc!”

Then he’s gone before you can return the farewell, door closing definitively behind him and leaving the room in silence.

Are you going crazy, or did Hoseok— one of the three boxers you’ve happened to walk in on twice now—just return your light flirting?

… God, you hope it wasn’t because of the minion band-aid.

x – x – x

You wish that visit had been an isolated incident, but you had a repeat of it at least twice a week. Each time Hoseok would rock up grinning at your door with some other minor injury, all but demanding a minion band-aid for his troubles. You gave it to him, of course, but you still hope he doesn’t remember you as the minion band-aids guy.

Surprisingly enough, it isn’t only Hoseok that has been cropping up more often in your day-to-day. You’ve had a few surprise encounters with Yoongi, who lately has taken to giving you a sly, unreadable look before turning away, leaving you in your own confusion. Sometimes you’ll get carried away watching him or one of the other boxers practice, and before you know it he has caught you staring red-handed and you’re forced to flee the room to escape the smug, intrigued look that slips into his eyes.

It’s after such an occasion that you find yourself in the main locker room, attempting to multitask by looking for a box of first aid supplies hidden in the top shelves and giving your face a chance to cool down. It’s taken you so long to even find the damn box that your embarrassment has all but evaporated by now. By the time your eyes lock onto the scuffed white box peeking over the edge of the highest shelf in the corner of the room, you’re more than ready to snatch it down and escape back to the comfort of your dingy little office.

Of course, it couldn’t ever be so easy for you. Not given your recent string of poor luck.

You don’t consider your height to be remarkably anything, and normally you don’t have that much trouble reaching the cookie jar on the top shelf in your apartment but for some reason the shelves in this building are built to cater to giants, and try as you might you simply cannot reach. You’re literally about to abandon the last of your dignity and attempt jumping for it, when there is a light scuff on the floor from behind you and then a firm warmth pressing into your back.

In all honesty, your brain short-circuits. For a second you think you might have even blacked out, because it takes at least three seconds for you to realise what is happening, and by that time the figure has already retreated back from your form.

Somewhat dazed, you turn around to see one Kim Namjoon, the clubs leading middleweight champion and the third and final member of those racy scenarios you happened to walk in on oh-so long ago. In his hands is the box you’d been struggling so much to reach, and on his face is a look that somehow blends sheepishness and amusement into one attractive cocktail on his features.

“Here you go,” he says, and for a shamefully long moment all you can do is stand and soak in the lovely timbre of his voice. By the time you snap out of it, a small smile has begun to curl on his lips. You pointedly avoid looking at the dimples that are beginning to show as a result.

“Oh, uh, thanks,” you say, trying to make it as natural as possible as you reach and take the box from his hold. “Whoever put it up there seems to have a vendetta against me.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” he says, and there’s suddenly something a little secretive about the way he’s smiling. It makes you suspicious, and once more the words Jungkook prattled into your ear a week or so ago come rattling back into your brain.

Is this something similar to what Hoseok had done? Did Namjoon put the box on a higher shelf?

“Are you calling me short?” For some reason, that’s what comes out of your mouth. There is a slight disconnect from what you said and what Namjoon had said previously, but he seems to make the connection. He tilts his head back and a rich laugh tumbles forth. It sounds nicer than you wish to admit to yourself.

“Never,” he finally answers, grinning. “Though, feel free to come get me next time you lose against a shelf.”

Your mouth drops open in affront, but he makes a departure too quick for you to respond. His laughter echoes down the halls and you’re left reeling in your spot.

This isn’t what you expected to happen after walking in on a few intimate situations. In fact, this is quite the opposite.

What is happening?

x – x – x

As the weeks go by, there are several big nights and several big matches. Hoseok and Yoongi, among a few others from the gym, emerge victorious. At this point you’re not too ashamed to say that you spent the entirety of their matches watching the way their muscles rippled as they dodged, swung and wove around the ring. If the last shred of dignity still clinging to you had disappeared, then you probably would have drooled like a dog.

The nights tend to go by weight classes, and the next upcoming night is to showcase the middleweight boxers. While Jungkook classifies for the class, as one of the newer recruits he isn’t the first choice for the match—much to his dismay.

It is approximately a week before this big match, in which Namjoon, one of the three men who live in your head rent-free these days, is participating, that you’re woken from your sleep and called into the gym.

It’s your night off, actually, so for you to be called in there must have been a pretty serious injury. You’re proven right when you enter the building and walk into the main room.

Before you can even assess the scene, Yoongi spots you and darts on over. He has a look on his face that you don’t think he’s ever sported before, and it fills you with a feeling of dread. It seems an appropriate feeling, considering what you see when you advance further into the room, towed by the frantic blonde who’d fetched you.

“Holy shit, what the hell happened?!” You dart forward, Yoongi’s grip slipping from your wrist as you move out of his reach.

Namjoon is seated on the floor in a squat, cradling his left hand to his chest. A grimace twists his features, eyes glistening but face clear of tears.

To your complete and utter surprise, the familiar tenor of Jungkook’s voice reaches your ears. You didn’t know he had stayed behind to practice tonight.

“We were leaving after practicing a bit later than normal, and some assholes drove past and picked a fight. I think—I think they were members from one of the rival clubs on the other side of the city but it was kind of dark and I didn’t get a good look.”

Your brows shoot up—that’s risky behaviour on their part, if it was actually members of a rival club that did this. Judges of this particular tournament don’t look kindly on foul play.

It would make sense if it’s true, though; a lot of local clubs tend to have boxers in the middleweight range, and Namjoon has emerged from enough matches victorious that he’s actually quite a threat.

“Let me see,” you say, holding your hands out to Namjoon for him to rest his injured one in your hold. “Jungkook, go get the big tin box with the red cross from my office. Make sure it’s the one with antiseptic and bandages.”

You don’t even need to check he’s listened, because you can hear the frantic, obedient pattering of his feet fading away in the distance as you unwrap the blood-drenched towel from the hand in your hold. Namjoon’s busted up limb takes all of your attention the second you lay eyes on it properly, your stomach filling with an unpleasant, nameless cocktail of sensations.

“Holy shit,” you say, unable to contain your wince. “Tell me you didn’t get this from fighting them bare-knuckle.”

Namjoon has enough capacity for humour right now that he lets out a little huff. Yoongi fills you in before Namjoon has a chance.

“No, though I almost did.” His expression is dark, the heat of his anger reaching you even when it’s not directed your way. “They were probably drinking before coming here, since they had a few bottles they threw into the mix.”

That explains the gashes you’re seeing on Namjoon’s palm— it seems he caught one of the bottles, though you’re not sure whether it was already broken or whether it broke on impact. Thankfully, from what you can see, the gashes and lacerations aren’t too deep and shouldn’t cause lasting damage, but they’ll definitely take a while to heal, and one or two of them look like they will need stitches.

“Alright,” you begin, sighing softly. “I’ll do what I can to fix this up for now, but you’re going to have to go to the ER, because some of these will need stitches…”

You look up, reading the expressions of everyone in attendance and knowing that they have all reached the same conclusion regarding Namjoon’s immediate fate as a boxer.

“Sorry, Namjoon,” you start, watching his features crumble ever so slightly into a look of resignation. “This isn’t going to heal in time for next week, and you definitely won’t be able to train for a while.”

It’s just as you announce that, that Jungkook returns with your box of first-aid goodies. Hoseok, who has remained surprisingly silent the whole time this conversation has gone on, takes the box from his hold and delivers it next to you. Surprising all of you, Namjoon is quick to look up and pin Jungkook with a grin.

“Well, since I can’t participate—how do you feel about making your Big Boy Boxing Debut, Jungkookie?”

Your friend is rooted to the spot in shock for a solid few moments, before he snaps out of it and an excited if slightly nervous expression filters onto his face.

“I will defend your honour, Namjoon!” he declares, saluting stupidly. “Count on me!”

Cheesy of him, but you can’t help the smile that tugs your lips. You just hope it’s not too late-notice for him, and that Namjoon’s injuries really aren’t that serious, as you surmise.

x – x – x

The week passes quicker than you anticipate, and before you know it, it’s the night of the big match—Jungkook’s first big match, that is. Namjoon had done his best over the days to coach Jungkook on the particular fighting styles of the opponents he normally faces, and to everyone’s pleasant surprise, Jungkook has picked it all up with ease.

You’re more surprised to say that you’re not even that nervous, as you sit waiting for the match to begin. Jungkook stands in one corner, his opponent from one of the more renowned rival gyms in the other. You prepare to be on standby in case either boxer is injured enough to need aid, but cross your fingers that if anything at least Jungkook will be alright.

In the blink of an eye, the match begins and the first bout kicks off. Jungkook’s opponent is slightly stockier, likely pushing the upper limits of the weight class, and is the first to make an offensive move. The familiar sound of cushioned gloves making impact rings in the air and you find yourself tensing in your seat as you watch the two interchange blows.

It’s pretty much neck-and-neck for a majority of the bouts. Some of them go quick, and others seem to consist of the longest three minutes of your life. Still, the match goes on, and the night is filled with the siren song of the crowd and the ring of the bell.

After a night of close-call bouts and baited breath, Jungkook finally emerges victorious.

Ever the fan favourite, the crowd that has amassed erupt into cheers as the referee declares the end of the final bout and Jungkook is held up as the victor. With the match decided, the club members that had been watching ringside burst up and swarm around the young boxer who brought pride to the gym on his very first big match. The three boxers that usually occupy your thoughts wriggle their way up there too, and it’s Hoseok’s bright tone that pierces the ruckus of the crowd.

“Drinks at ours to celebrate our victor, Jungkookie!” he caws, rubbing Jungkook on the back in something akin to pride. “Members of King Hit Gym, we better see you all there!”

You mightn’t be a technical member, but the way you suddenly feel three sets of eyes on you tells you that you’re still more than invited.

x – x – x

It’s three hours since the end of the match, and you’re more than a little tipsy.

You can safely say that you haven’t ever been to the house where Namjoon, Hoseok and Yoongi live, but you’re nothing short of impressed. It’s a three-storey townhouse, with three rooms— presumably one for each of them, though from what you’d glimpsed on the way to the bathroom earlier only one of them appears regularly lived in.

It didn’t take you long to ponder exactly why, considering the things you’ve accidentally witnessed in the past month.

Most of your time tonight was spent celebrating with Jungkook as he made the rounds and received congratulations from the rest of the club members. Music thrums through the building, bass vibrating pleasantly through your chest every time you pass the expensive speakers in the living room.

You’ve paced yourself well, all things considered. All you had to do to avoid an early night ending in blackout drunkenness was steer clear of Jungkook whenever he made his way by the kitchen to refill— he’d learnt his mixing skills from Jimin, a verified alcoholic back in the day who spent his time in university trying to throw together his own signature cocktail with the same alcohol percentage as absinthe.

So you’re relatively proud of yourself to only be a little over tipsy at this point in the night. You can’t really say the same for the rest of the club members, though— even Jungkook has reached a point where he is stumbling and giggling. Which, of course, led to the event that splattered drink all over your shirt.

You’re wandering up the stairs now, mind occupied with everything but what you’re doing as you absentmindedly seek the bathroom to clean your shirt. You haven’t seen any of the homeowners in a while, actually, which is kind of disappointing because you’re really longing for some eye candy right about now. They disappeared about ten minutes ago, and you figured it was just to socialise or maybe grab more snacks but you haven’t paid it much thought since then, and now you’re realising they hadn’t returned to the party yet.

Reaching the top of the stairs, you pause for a moment to try and recall which room is the bathroom. There’s two of them, you remember being told, one ensuite and a main bathroom. There was also a third one on the first floor, but that was too far for you to attempt reaching it. Unable to remember which door is which, you simply decide to wing it and march on forward towards the first door to enter your line of sight. You’re pretty stable, but your head is kind of fuzzy, so your hand hovers by the wall as you walk just in case you stumble.

Upon reaching the door in question, it takes you about a second and a half to realise the room you have reached is not the one you want, and another second for the shock to reach you.

Because, for the third time in a month, you have walked in on something you shouldn’t have.

Except this time, you can’t seem to pull yourself away as fast as you should.

It’s Hoseok and Namjoon tangled before you this time, in a position much more intimate than the last you’d seen. Their lips are locked, Hoseok straddling one of Namjoon’s thighs with one hand tangled in inky locks and the other rubbing over his crotch, where a prominent bulge makes itself known even to your eyes. Just when you remember that you should really be on your way, their lips break apart and Namjoon’s head tilts back, a sinful, velvet moan climbing from his throat as Hoseok leans to pepper it with kisses. It’s mesmerising, and you forget you’re even there as you watch the red-haired man’s hand climb up Namjoon’s stomach and then slip beneath the waistband of his jeans.

You come back to yourself when you feel a familiar tightness in your own pants and a throb between your legs— of course, you’re hard. You’re too hazy-brained to even be ashamed of it right now. It does pierce through the fog, though, that you’re intruding on something you’re not meant to see. Like you’re trying to move limbs filled with lead, you start to drag your feet and turn around.

You barely get a step in before you’re face to face with someone strikingly familiar, and your heart drops in your chest before kicking back into motion at double speed.

“You always seem to enjoy watching, don’t you?” Yoongi’s question catches you off guard and puts you on the spot— before you can panic, though, his lips curl in a kittenish smile. “It’s alright, we already know you do, baby boy.”

Your heart stutters in your chest, stomach flipping giddily. Your eyes track it with surprising clarity as Yoongi’s hand— strong and sculpted and deliciously vascular, as you’d admired many times before— rises to caress your cheek, and he leans forward until his lips brush the sensitive skin of your earlobe.

“Why don’t you join us, this time?”

You find yourself nodding before you even realise it, but it’s definitely a decision you would make again any other day.

You feel Yoongi smile against your ear, and then he is pressing a soft kiss to your cheek and pulling back. That same strong hand winds around your wrist and you’re tugged into the room, the door shutting behind you. The two on the bed barely bat an eye at the arrival of their third lover and an extra figure, merely smiling dazedly at the two of you.

“Baby boy is finally gonna join us?” Hoseok asks, eyes lidded and dark to match the tousled look of his hair and clothes. His words are slightly slurred but the keenness to his gaze tells you he is still very much aware of everything he does.

Yoongi hums in confirmation, coming up behind you to wind his arms lazily around your waist and rest his chin on your shoulder. “Mhmm. Don’t stop on our account— why don’t you give him a bit of a show to start, hm?”

Hoseok needs no further prompting, a grin all you glimpse before he is diving back to crash his lips into Namjoon’s, hand moving inside his pants and eliciting a deep, throaty groan. It makes your own cock throb in need, and almost as though he reads your mind, Yoongi's voice sounds in your ear once more.

“You already hard, baby boy? Like what you see?”

Something about the husky quality of the boxer’s voice makes a shudder roll down your spine, a light whine slipping from your throat. Yoongi presses soft kisses to the skin of your neck as you watch the two on the bed undress each other between heated kisses.

“Want me to touch you, baby boy?”

As though possessed, your head begins nodding before you even think to act on the urge. Yoongi requires no further prompting; he begins to kiss and suckle along the column of your neck while his hands move— one creeps up beneath your shirt to flick a thumb over your nipple, and the other slips down, down, down beneath the waistband of your pants and boxers, until that hand you admire so much is slipping around your cock and squeezing just enough to make you gasp out a moan.

Pleasure and desire wind together to mix with the tipsy haze in your mind, and you’re more than happy to surrender yourself to the current situation. Slowly, you’re urged over to the bed, eyes still locked on the pair occupied there as Yoongi’s hand works magic on your length. You don’t even bother attempting to stem the gasps and moans tumbling forth because you know at this point it would probably be futile.

Hoseok has now stripped Namjoon entirely and is making his way down his body with his mouth, pressing a kiss against every inch of golden skin he can reach. Namjoon is quite generously endowed, and you can’t tear your eyes away as Hoseok finally reaches the apex of his thighs and begins to lavish attention to Namjoon’s flushed cock.

You can feel Yoongi grinding lightly against you as he strokes your own aching member, the two of you observing the show before you with rapt attention. At some point you’re rid of your shirt and the air feels cool against your flushed skin, your upper body leaning back against Yoongi contentedly. The noises spilling from Namjoon’s throat are downright sinful as Hoseok’s mouth sinks down on him with practiced ease.

It’s almost too much for you, really. Almost sensory overload. You’re urged ever so slowly to the bed, and as you sit on the plush mattress you happily oblige as Yoongi begins to undo and remove the jeans that are now uncomfortably tight. Your boxers follow soon after and then you’re joining the other two in their nudity. As though sensing the change in plans, Hoseok pulls off of Namjoon’s cock with a ‘pop’, licking his lips and ignoring the whine in protest that Namjoon lets out. “In a minute, bubs.”

Yoongi leans over to the bedside table to retrieve lube and something else you soon realise to be condoms as he tosses them on the bed between him and Hoseok.

“Are you alright with this?”

You turn at the sound of Yoongi’s voice, eyes meeting his own— though heady and full of desire, they’re also determined. You don’t doubt that if you say no, he will stop things here.

“Yes,” you confirm, and you watch as a smile pulls over Yoongi’s face.

“Excellent. Now, lean forward, baby boy. This might be a little cold.”

Without question, you allow him to shift and bend your body as needed, knees digging into the plush bedding. Tilting your head up, you manage to meet the eyes of Namjoon, who is in a similar position to yourself, just in time for you to gasp at the sudden cold sensation at your ass.

You’d think by now you would be used to the feeling of lube— you’re immediately distracted from that though at the sensation of Yoongi’s finger beginning to toy around your asshole. You allow yourself to relax as much as possible, turning your attention to Namjoon and Hoseok and simply enjoying the sensations Yoongi is eliciting.

Namjoon’s hand raises, cupping your cheek and dragging down ever so gently. Hoseok catches the movement and lets out a coo, eyes boring into your own.

“Wanna kiss him, baby boy? Go ahead, he’s good at it.”

You don’t need to be told twice, and neither does Namjoon. You find Hoseok definitely isn’t wrong as Namjoon’s lips meet your own, the kiss quickly turning heated as his mouth moves against your own. He swallows down your moans as Yoongi’s fingers begin to stretch you slowly, one by one.

You lose so much time in the hypnotic motion of bodies against your own that before you know it there is a gentle yet firm hand against your shoulder pulling you back from the man before you.

“Ready, baby?”

You nod, and soon after hear the familiar tear of foil before the head of Yoongi’s cock is pressing against your hole. You take a deep breath in, allowing your eyes to flutter closed as he begins to press himself in and stretch you open bit by bit. The burn isn’t particularly painful tonight, and to be honest sometimes you’re partial to the sensation.

By the time Yoongi is fully seated within you, you’re almost panting, soft moans escaping unwittingly. Through the fog of pleasure currently addling your brain, you hear similar noises in front of you and realise Namjoon must be in a similar state. Unconsciously, your hand stretches out, seeking contact, and manages to entwine with the large, warm one you identify as Namjoon’s good hand.

As soon as Yoongi receives the green light from you, he begins to move. The sensations of him dragging against your walls are enough to almost drive you mad, especially at the slow pace he’s set. It isn’t long before he picks up though, and soon rough the slap of his hips against your ass is one of the many sinful noises echoing in the room, muffled by the loud music still booming beyond the bedroom walls.

“O-oh, fuck,” you moan, barely coherent enough to respond to Namjoon’s seeking lips. Absently, you hear Yoongi’s soft groans and low murmured praises, and it makes your heart skip a beat.

“Good boy,” he all but purrs, hand caressing down your spine before finding purchase at your hips.

Time blurs and you’re wound so tight that it isn’t long before you feel yourself approaching that edge, your hand lowering to begin stroking your own cock again in an effort to reach your high faster. It’s one deep stroke that hits you in all the right places that is your undoing, and with a cry you’re cumming hard, spots appearing behind your eyes.

The sudden tightness around his cock has Yoongi stilling, a low, drawn out groan sounding from his throat as he joins you in your high, throbbing inside you. Your arms are a little too weak to continue holding you, but he seems to be in tune enough that he notices and his own slip around you, easing you into his embrace as he adjusts on the mattress and hums into your skin.

Namjoon and Hoseok aren’t far behind you, the two of them reaching their own end not long after. Namjoon flops against the bed, spent and Hoseok hops up to retrieve a bin and some wipes to clean up a bit before he too flops across the mattress, smacking Namjoon’s ass as he does and eliciting a brief whine in protest.

“Well fuck,” you hum, staring absently at the ceiling. Yoongi snorts, pulling you closer, and like they all share a hive mind you’re very suddenly in the middle of a cuddle pile as the other two join in.

“Beats just watching, doesn’t it?” One of them queries, probably Hoseok— you’re too tired to really discern it.

“Mhm,” you respond, basking in content. “Four’s company, I suppose.”

There are a few hums of agreement, and then comfortable silence falls over the room. You find yourself smiling as you sink into the most content sleep you’ve had in a while, in the arms of the three boxers who have nestled their way into your heart one by one

#bts smut #bts fic #btsghostie #namjoon smut #yoongi smut #hoseok smut #namjoon x reader #namjoon x male reader #yoongi x reader #yoongi x male reader #hoseok x reader #hoseok x male reader #bts au #rapline fic #rapline smut #reader insert #my work #my writing #bts fanfic

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hangovercurse · 3 years

Text

Blind Date

After being single for three months, your friends decide to set you and Colson up on a blind date.

Request: Hey!! Could you do one about the reader and Colson meeting by a blind date? Let your creativity go wild ❤️

Colson x Reader

Warnings: Cursing

A/N: This is a little bit different from how I normally write, so let’s see how this goes.

Word Count: 1916

It’s funny how the universe makes things happen. While some people are having their first kiss, others are taking their last breath. Every moment in time is so intricately woven together, it sometimes seems ironic how things happen.

Like tonight, on two sides of California, two very different people were having the same conversation.

“I’m not sure about this.”

“What if she thinks my tattoos are too much?”

“What if he thinks I’m too weird?”

“What if she hates music?”

“What if he hates art?”

“I don’t know if I’m ready for this.”

“I don’t think I can do this.”

Your best friend stared at you from your bed as you paced around the room. “Y/N, you’re going to be fine. You said it yourself, you need to get back out there. Baze says he’s a good guy, and I trust Baze.”

Baze was in a similar situation, laying on the couch as Colson paced around the house. “Colson, dude. It’s gonna be good, she’s gonna like you.”

“I don’t know why I’m so nervous. It’s not like I’ve never been on a first fuckin date before. I used to do this shit every night.” He sighed, sitting down.

You let out a frustrated groan, “I know. I just feel like after everything in the past few years I feel like I’ve forgotten how to do first dates.”

“You’re gonna be great, just be yourself. And remember, it’s a blind date, so if you guys don’t hit it off or something goes horribly wrong, you never have to see him again.” She smiled as you threw her a playful glare.

“Colson, I love you man, but you have to do this. I don’t think you’ve even looked at a woman who isn’t Ashleigh in like three months.”

The light-haired man sent his friend a glare, “I’m sorry that I was recovering from the worst heartbreak of my life.”

You finally sat down, pulling on your shoes. “Maybe it’s too soon. Maybe I’m not as ready as I thought I was.”

Your friend sighed, sitting up and placing her arms around your shoulders, “It’s been three months since you and T broke up. You grieved, and now you need to move on. You deserve this.”

“Dude, you said you were over her. You are over her. Now you get to find someone else and try to be happy. You deserve this.”

“Maybe don’t bring up your disastrous ex, Y/N.”

“But please, for the love of god, bro, don’t bring up Megan.”

You entered the small, classy restaurant, your hands shaking slightly. The entire place was dimly lit, with candles scattered around any surface available. You walked to the hostess stand, “Baker for two.” You told her, a small smile gracing your features.

She nodded, leading you through the floor. “He got here not 30 seconds before you did.” She laughed and you blushed a little bit.

You were grateful he wasn’t late, but you were also grateful he wasn’t extremely early , or else you would have felt awful for making him wait.

You were finally brought to a small table in the back of the restaurant to find one of the prettiest men you have ever laid your eyes on. When his eyes met yours, he stood up immediately, a smile on his face. “Y/N?” He asked.

“Colson.” You responded. He pulled your chair out for you, and you felt heat rushing to your cheeks at the kind gesture. None of the guys you had ever dated pulled your chair out for you, especially not your most recent ex.

“Baze told me you were pretty but this is…” He trailed off, seeming a bit lost for words. “You are absolutely gorgeous.”

He was good at this, good at making you nervous, making you blush like a teenager. “Thank you.” You whispered, “I think you are one of the prettiest people I have ever met.” You returned his compliment with one of your own.

The redness in his cheeks made you smile, a bit of pride rising in your chest. “Baze truthfully didn’t tell me much about you.” He started, “so, what do you do?” He was kicking himself for the lame question, but his mind was half occupied with the color of your eyes and he couldn’t form a coherent thought.

“I’m an artist.” You probably didn’t realize it, but Colson could see the slightest bit of a light in your eyes as you spoke about your passion. “I do graphic designing for websites, making logos and designs and such. That’s my day job, at least. I do some painting and sketching on the side, though. Eventually I’d like to be able to make that my whole job, but it is a hard industry.”

Colson nodded in understanding, his eyes holding the same weight as yours when you spoke of your flailing dreams. You wondered how he knew exactly what you were talking about.

Seemingly reading your mind, he answered. “I get that so much. I’m a musician, so I’ve been there. Luckily, I did make it my full-time job, but I remember before I made it, all the stress and struggles. It gets better.”

You smiled, “easy for you to say, aren’t you like, a big Rockstar?”

He chuckled, looking down, “yeah, sort of. But I wasn’t, you know? Like before all this I was dirt poor and the picture of a starving artist. I mean I’m still not like, winning Grammys or shit now, but I’m not there anymore either.”

You nodded, studying him. “I was lucky, I had support through art school and got a job as soon as I graduated. I’ve never had to struggle in that sense. I don’t think I’d be happy staying where I’m at for the rest of my life, but I am definitely in a stable place right now.”

He seemed so interested in what you were saying. Soon the conversation moved into the type of music he made, and then to your art styles. You flowed together easily, never becoming awkward or uncomfortable. As the night went on, your nerves fell away, as did his.

You were talking about your favorite movies when your food arrived, but even then, your conversation continued. At one point, he paused mid-second. “You’ve got something, “ he pointed to his face. “Fuck it, this is gonna be so cheesy.” He grabbed his napkin and wiped the bit of sauce you had on your cheek off.

You blushed in embarrassment, “thanks.” He was right, the moment was very cheesy. His hand pulled away slowly, lingering near your skin a bit longer than necessary. You didn’t mind though.

As much as you hated to admit it, especially since you had only known him for one night, you could be really into him. And that scared the fuck out of you.

Colson was, too, scared shitless. Why the fuck was his heart fluttering every time you giggled. He’d just met you. But already he could tell you were something special.

He paid for dinner, like a gentleman, even though you protested. “It’s our first date, I am paying.”

You liked the way that he said, “first date,” implying there may be more. “Well, I guess I’ll just have to pay next time.” You said, smugly.

His eyebrow raised in question, a small smirk on his face. “We’ll see about that. I might just give them my card ahead of time.”

“Then I’ll just have to get there before you.”

You two laughed at your small competition as he led you to the parking lot, his hand in yours. “Did you drive?” He asked and you shook your head no.

“I called an uber. Speaking of…” You reached for your phone before he stopped you.

“Let me drive you home. If that’s okay?”

You let him lead you to his car, hand still tightly in his. He pulled the door open for you, guiding you in. Everything with him seemed like a new experience, his gentleman gestures catching you off guard.

“You should play me some of your music.” You told him when he got in. He smiled at that, pulling his phone out and opening his library.

“I don’t know if you’ll like the type of music I make.” He blushed, scrolling through to find a song he thought you might like.

You rolled your eyes, “well I like you so I think, by proxy, I’ll like your music.”

He bit his lip to hide the way his face lit up at your subtle confession. “Just don’t say that I didn’t warn you.”

You heard a somewhat familiar rhythm, something you had probably heard on the radio. “Wait, this is you? I swear I’ve heard this before.”

He smiled, glancing over at you before turning his attention back to the road. “Yeah, me and my friend Matt dropped this right before my last album release.”

You let the music play, listening to his voice as he sang. “You know, this somehow sounds exactly like you and nothing like you at the same time. Like if you hadn’t told me I don’t think I would’ve known this was you. But I do know so I can hear it.”

He chuckled but didn’t say anything, occasionally looking at you as you nodded your head to the music. A few more of his songs played from Tickets to My Downfall and you seemed to enjoy it. “You’re really good.” You commented. Your voice was truthful, you weren’t trying to flatter him, you were just saying what you thought. Your words were genuine.

He didn’t know why but hearing that from you meant so much more to him than he expected it to. He finally parked in front of your house, getting out and opening your door for you. Like a true gentleman, he walked you to your door, pausing before you unlocked it.

You turned to face him, looking up into his bright eyes. “I had a really good time tonight.” He said softly. “Probably the best night I’ve had in a while, honestly.”

You smiled widely, “I did too, Colson.” You grabbed his hands in yours, swinging them slightly. “I’m really glad we did this.”

He nodded, leaning closer to you, “would you, maybe, wanna do this again?” He asked, his voice falling closer to a whisper.

“I was hoping I had made that obvious when I said I’d pay next time.” You giggled, leaning up closer to him.

He rolled his eyes playfully, “just wanna make sure you didn’t change your mind.”

“Trust me, I didn’t.” You whispered, before leaning up and connecting your lips with his.

The kiss was short and sweet, but it seemed like everything you had ever wanted. When your lips left his, you both stayed very close to each other, hands still clasped. His face was still only inches from yours, eyes studying your every feature.

Eventually he let out a small sigh and leaned back up. “Well, uh, goodnight, Y/N.” He smiled sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck as he took steps backwards towards his car. You smiled at him, waving a small goodbye before turning to unlock your door.

Your hand touched the handle before you turned around, finding Colson in the same situation at his car door, still looking at you. “Do you maybe wanna… come in?” You asked, biting your lip. His face lit up, a smirk highlighting his features.

“I would love that.”

#mgk #mgk imagine #mgk angst #mgk fluff #machine gun kelly #machine gun kelly imagine #Colson baker #colson x reader #colson baker imagine #colson baker fluff #colson baker angst #colson imagine

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rk1kheadcanons · 3 years

Note

Markus and Connor are secret dating b/c Connor doesn't wanna be out to the world yet. The Jericrew (-Connor) go drinking and Markus gets *drunk* and starts rambling about his boyf after he rebuffs an advance made by a lady at the bar super sappily, but no matter how hard the others press him, they just get "oh, his eyes are the color of warm chocolate..." answers as to who this boyf is

You would never know Markus was drunk.

He didn’t stutter or slur when he spoke, he didn’t sway or trip over his feet. He didn’t giggle goofily or speak overly loud. He was perfectly composed, as much the charismatic android sober as he was when he was intoxicated.

What he did do, however, was go on long monologues like a Shakespearian stage actor.

Which would be fine, if Markus’ favorite subject to wax poetic about wasn’t his mysterious boyfriend, whom he’d sworn not to reveal the identity of until they were ready. Which would also be fine, if that mysterious boyfriend wasn’t Connor, who was often sitting right next to him (and slowly but surely bluescreening his way into that big Windows XP wallpaper in the sky) as he sang and lathered compliment after compliment, steadily giving away clues that were so blatant that it was a miracle that no one had figured them out yet.

Markus never remembered what he’d done the next day, and whenever Connor mercilessly played back his memories, his poor lover was as embarrassed as he was apologetic. Connor could hardly begrudge him (frankly he didn’t know what sane person on this planet could ever begrudge Markus, but that was just Connor’s correct opinion). What could they even do about it? Should he demand Markus consciously control himself? It wasn’t like Connor was any better at it. Give the RK800 too many AMB’s (Adios Motherboards) and he would be on top of the nearest table and scream-singing his every professionally repressed emotion, regardless if it was a karaoke bar or not. Hence why he never imbibed more than he could handle when they were around their friends. The last thing he wanted to do was sloppily propose to Markus after a long and terrible rendition of K-Ci and JoJo.

And Connor wouldn’t dream of telling Markus to measure the contents of his drink like Connor did. Not when his breaks were so rare, and getting him to relax and let loose was like pulling teeth.

It was just in the cards that their big revelation as a couple would be in a random bar at 3AM, with Markus saying something along the lines of “my boyfriend’s name starts with a C and rhymes with Donner”, and Connor had made peace with that.

“Scarlet woman!” Markus cried, at some random bar at 3AM, surrounded by their drunken comrades. Ah, would this be the night? Connor thought, on the correct side of buzzed as he watched on from the table right next to them, a heady mix of dread and amusement running through his computer soul. “Jezebel! How d a r e you solicit my happily taken hand!”

The waitress, who looked like she regretted serving their table, let alone attempting to get the number from the happily taken hand, raised her hands in surrender. “Sorry, sorry,” she said peaceably and with the calm air of someone who dealt with drunks as a job choice, “just trying to shoot my shot, ya know?”

Markus nodded at her magnanimously, because he was a kind and forgiving man even as a drunken buffoon. “Fret not. I pardon you of this most heinous slight, for if you knew the one to own my heart, you would understand that no other could compare.”

“Sure thing dude,” she said goodnaturedly, packing up and replacing drinks around their tables expertly, and parting with a “have a good night Romeo.”

“But who can no other compare to? WHOMST??” asked North, throwing her torso onto the table and looking up at Markus pleadingly.

“We’ve ruled out Jerry #451, Claudia, Baris from accounting, and Jerry #36,” Simon rattled off. He was looking down at a napkin that he had scribbled the names of all of their potential suspects. “I’ve got it. It’s Baris.”

North rolled her eyes. “We already said it wasn’t Baris.”

“Ohhh. Right, right.” Simon nodded his head and continued to not cross off the names of the people they had decided against, as he had been doing all night.

“How about you describe them a little?” Josh put in, reasonable, and therefore slightly less wasted than everyone else. “Hair color? Height? Eyes? Something?”

“Nay, I must not speak thusly!” Markus declared, back of his hand over his forehead and everything. “For if I were to tread down that forbidden road, I would surely not be able to stop myself from breaking our sacred oath of secrecy!”

“Oh my goOOOOOOOd I hate this fucking oaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaath,” North threw her head back and cried to heavens, which, considering her positon, was probably going to be hell on her neck come morning. “Come on! Break your oath! Be like Thor and wield oathbreaker goddamnit!”

“You might be thinking of Stormbreaker,” Connor added, the need to try and reason with alcoholics apparently embedded in his programming.

North narrowed her eyes at him, or rather his torso, since her chin was very resolutely still resting on the table. “If you think I’m thinking right now then you are drunker than I am.”

Connor lifted his barely touched glass to her in a toast because how dare she be lucid enough to clap back so quickly. A well deserved rebuttal fucking cheers.

“Glasses!” Josh exclaimed, snapping his fingers. “Do they wear glasses? That should narrow down some people.”

“That’s right! That’ll tell us if they’re an android or not. Androids don’t wear glasses! Our eyes are like...fucking...better and shit!”

“Unless….” Simon narrowed his eyes, pausing dramatically. “....they do.”

North gasped. Josh put his hands on either side of face, muttering; “holy fucking shit he’s right.”

Markus scoffed. “Their eyes do not hide behind paltry spectacles! His beautiful orbs, so soft and caring when his gaze lands upon my person, seeing into my very soul, are the warmest chocolate brown!”

‘Ah shit here we go,’ Connor thought, wishing not for the first time that he could just down his drink and join everyone else in blissful, idiotic cavorting. The soft, melodic piano and crooning words of All My Life playing over the speaker stayed his hand. Best not take any chances

“HE!” Simon burst out, tipping over in his chair. “He say he! Them is He!”

“Are we talkin’ Hershey’s or Dove?”

“Ghirardelli you fucking plebs!”

“Oi!” North banged her hand on the table so hard it left a handprint indented in the wood. It was one amongst many however, and not all of them left by their party. Such was the price for serving android drinks at a human bar - you either shelled out for sturdier furniture or the dents and chips became a charming aspect of your décor. “Don’t get spicy with us Sir Lancelot!”

“Apologies fair maiden,” Markus responded easily. He took her hand delicately and made a sweeping bow over it. “Alas, my passions got away from me.” He dropped her hand and whirled around, coat billowing with the movement and most assuredly by accident, placing both hands to his thirium pump. “Conjuring up the magnificent images that is the love of my life oft times sends my emotions into a tizzy! His hair; cloud like in my grasp as I run my fingers threw earthen chestnut tendrils - ”

‘Hhhhhhhhhhhhn so many adjectives Markus whyyyyyyyyyy,’ Connor wheezed internally. He didn’t bother trying to keep down his blush. Markus was nowhere near done laying on the compliments and he’d be subjecting himself to an endless loop of canceling the process. Besides, he could just blame it on the alcohol. Blame it on the a a a a a alcohol - wait no. What!? WHAT. Connor looked down at his drink and saw, to his mounting horror, that the glass was emptier than it had been a few minutes ago. Goddamn his automated rest mode cycle for transforming into fidgeting whenever he was nervous! He resolutely pushed the glass out of his immediate reach.

Nines, who was quietly sitting next to him, hunched over and taking notes on his own napkin, snapped his head up to attention when the glass brushed against his arm. His younger brother was looking from Connor to Markus, eyes narrowed suspiciously as Markus carried on. Connor didn’t like that look at all. It was always a risk inviting Nines to their little outings, the only thing Connor could bank on was Nines passing out - as his dear little bro was a notorious light weight - before his deductive skills could pierce through his drunken haze. Apparently Nines had chosen tonight of all nights, where Markus had never been more obvious about their relationship, to bloody pace himself.

If he could, Connor would be sweating bullets.

“ - a wit SO SHARP!!” Markus declared, foot now planted on his chair and shaking his fist to the ceiling as if it had insulted one of Carl’s paintings, “that neither an UNDEAD HOARD nor a POLITICIAN’S EGO could survive it’s precision strike!!”

“Brown hair, brown eyes, banger body, smarty pants, good at analyzing shit, likes animals” North listed off, holding a hand up and ticking a finger down. “Well that rules out all the Jerrys; they’re all redheads and they’re pretty aggressive about it - except for Jerry #86. Is your man-squeeze Jerry #86?”

“No no no last I heard Jerry #86 is dating Hatsume Miku’s bodyguard; Android Lucy Lawless.” said Simon.

“Tch. Lucky,” pouted North.

“Oh wow, she really kept that name huh?” Josh said, voice faint with wonder and disbelief. “That’s such a mouthful.”

“And who are you to question a Queen!?” snapped North.

“Huzzah and many blessings to the fortuitous couple!” Markus cheered, toasting a stein of frothy blue intoxication that looked as cartoonish as it did poisonous to the sky, knocking it back in several impressive gulps and slamming it back on the table. “BUT NEITHER OF THEM CAN COMPARE TO THE BEAUTY AND GRACE THAT IS MY LOVE!!” he boomed, louder and more British by the second. “WHO’S CURIOSITY AND INTELLECT A CHERISHED BOON TO I, BUT A WEAPON OF MASS DESTRUCTION TO HIS ENEMIES - !”

North slapped her hand on the table several times, the proverbial light bulb lighting up in her eyes - oh. No not proverbial. There was currently little lightbulb emojis pictured in her pupils. Yet another drunken download added to the bill. Connor was glad he’d drawn the long straw on ‘irresponsible buying duty’ tonight. No doubt there would be a lot of strange receipts to sort through in the morning. “Oh! I know I know! It’s Josh!”

So startled by this declaration/accusation, Josh jumped in his seat. “What!?”

“Brown hair, brown eyes, hot, obnoxious, smart - everything FITS!”

“...he didn’t say obnoxious,” Josh muttered, then physically shook sanity back into himself. “It can’t be me. I think I’d know if I was dating Markus!”

Simon leaned in closer towards Josh, arm on the table, determination in his mien. “But what if…” Without breaking eye contact with his friend, he smoothly cracked open his Thirium berry blast bahama mama banana punch wine cooler, and proceeded to pour it just two centimeters off from his glass, all over the table. “You don’t know.”

Josh was shook in the face of this evidence. North narrowed her eyes so hard that they were just closed at this point. “Highly suspicious.”

“No. Nooooo. No? No! Of course I’m not. Right Markus?”

Markus steepled his fingers together and cackled in a way that most people would find concerning, but Connor just found it adorable. He would saving that in his memory banks. “I’ll never tell~,” he sing songed.

“H i g h l y s u s p i c i o u s.”

“I know who it is,” Nines suddenly said, calm but with such confidence that he was easily heard amidst the ruckus. He had his elbows planted on the table, chin resting upon his entwined fingers. Steele grey eyes swept over the now quiet group, everyone waiting with baited breath.

“Grant us your wisdom ‘o soothsayer,” Markus whispered, eyes wide with anticipation and literally perched on the edge of his seat. Connor seriously measured the pros and cons of just throwing his portion of the tab on the table and yeeting himself out of the window.

“It’s Sixty.”

Immediately the room erupted into scoffs and hisses of disbelief. North gave him a thumbs down and cupped her hand to her mouth, letting a long, “Booooo!”

“Why are you booing me I’m right!”

“BoooOOooOOOOOoooooo!” Markus, Josh and Simon joined in.

Connor blinked, and suddenly felt all of his concerns about Nines’ being the lynch pin in solving this mystery evaporate. If Markus transformed into a C grade Shakespeare impersonator when drunk, and Connor subconsciously wanted to be recruited by America’s Got Talent, then Nines became a consummate dumbass.

“That’s it!” North exploded. “Ten dollars says it’s Jerry #92! I caught him in a wig once!” She stood up, her chair sliding back from the force, and slammed a note on the table.

Simon also stood up with equal intensity. “Twenty says it’s Josh!” He reached into his pocket and slammed its contents onto the table. When he removed his hand six lego pieces, a My Little Pony leg, and two actual diamonds were revealed. Connor hoped dearly that the bartender cut Simon off soon.

“It’s not me!” Josh said exasperated. He paused, then pointedly pulled out some money and threw it in the pot as well. “I put forty on Brenden.”

“Bull! Shit!” North declared. “Fitness guru Brenden!? No way!”

“He fits the criteria.”

“I doubt ‘How To Tell If An Android Has Welded on Parts from China vs Russia in their Selfies’ videos on his YouTube channel is the kind analysis Markus was talking about.”

“You don’t know that! He didn’t specify...”

As the two continued to argue, with Simon chiming in with some non sequitur, and Nines tutting about these ‘ignorant fools and their blindness to the evidence presented’, Connor looked over to Markus. He was quiet. He had his elbow perched precariously on the edge of the table, his cheek resting on his fist, a small hat (that was not there literally two minutes ago) was on his head, folded from one of the bar napkins.

And he was looking at Connor as if he hung the moon and stars.

‘How could the world not already know,’ Connor thought, soft and warm inside, happy merely to be in his line of sight, ‘When he looks at me like that?’

Connor picked up his glass and lifted it. “One hundred dollars on Sixty.”

Chaos erupted. Nines threw his arms up and hooted like he’d won the super bowl. Josh tried to explain to him how that was mathematically impossible. North shook her head and warned him that he would live on the streets with an answer like that. Simon pulled out a Yu-Gi-Oh! Card and said he would give him this Charizard if he agreed with him that Josh was Markus’ secret boyfriend. Connor withheld himself from trying to convince drunk people that this was not how betting worked.

Maybe Connor shouldn’t worry so much about their relationship being discovered after all. At this rate, no one would know about he and Markus being together until the wedding invites.

#Detroit Become Human #Markus #Connor #Markus x Connor #RK1K #emiliaf25🌻#emiliaf25 ask reply #North #Simon #Josh #RK900 #Markus: I bet 200 on Connor!#Simon: Pssh no way #Josh: Markus please don't waste you're money on throw away bets #North: Why don't you just bet on John Cena while you're at it #Nines: If Markus wants to give away money then let him #Connor: >:C #Connor: why do I hang out with you people...

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sintatae · 3 years

Text

qn | part two

qn or quaque nocte: an abbreviation that nurses and other healthcare workers use for medications and interventions to occur every night // 3670 words

pairing: taehyung x reader

genre: nurse!reader, business analyst!taehyung, f2l, mild fake dating, neighbours, angst, fluff, breakfast dates and nighttime strolls

summary: …in which you love the night and he loves the day. you’re grumpy, shy, and keep to yourself. while he’s pure joy, fearless and outgoing. you have the makeup to be complete opposites of each other, but it’s in both of your favourite parts of the day, where you realize you’re a lot closer than you thought.

summary | part one | part two

inspo | masterlist

Buzz. Buzz-buzz. Eyes fluttering open as if angry at the world, you reach under your pillow to find 2 missed calls from Taehyung and 1 (probably drunken) missed call from Bianca. Rubbing your eyes, you look at the clock above your bed to see that is it now 0900 in the morning. On your weekend off.

What in the world?

You open your phone to a flurry of text messages.

Bibi (1): okso ur gonna come out with us again right I miss u come hangout w me u_u [0345]

Jimin (1): So......what happened last night? Also any idea why I’m on the couch with Namjoon lol [0812]

You shake your head laughing at the memories of Bibi’s relentless ploys to get you out of the house and hauling one of Jimin’s listless arms around your shoulders while you dragged him through the backdoor.

Shooting straight up in bed, you remember what happened the previous night and touch your fingers to your lips as the feeling of Taehyung’s lips against yours lingered.

There was never a considerable amount of time that you thought about Taehyung. Truthfully, you didn’t spend a whole lot of time thinking about what he meant to you aside from the fact that he was becoming one of your closest friends in a city far from your own. Before you even realized it, he became a part of ‘home’ to you. Because there was a comfort about Taehyung, almost like the feeling of sinking into your most comfortable pillow after a long day or night. Almost like sitting next to a warm fire on the beach during summer, if you got too close, he shined brightly enough to make you forget your worries. He was chicken soup for the soul. Perhaps it had been the reason you suckered him into this position in the first place. Taehyung was comfort.

Perhaps, it was all starting to make sense to you, despite how oblivious you had been. The way that he always met you on your way home or made sure that you had something to eat. Always inviting you to come hang out with him and the boys or even the way he constantly teased you about sleeping all day, when being a hermit was all you wanted to do. You didn’t even realize how easily he could convince you to hang out, which was a feat that no unknowing person could do.

Taehyung felt the same way too. At first you were just the cute girl next door who didn’t know anyone apart from one friend named Grace from nursing school who made the move to the city years ago. Something about you drew him in, whether it was your loud, bright laugh or the fact that you always got frazzled whenever someone paid more than enough attention to you. You always wanted to make sure everyone was taken care of before you were. It made him want to take care of you, not that you needed it. Despite your stubborn, at times type A personality, you were also oblivious to how magnetic you were. There wasn’t an uncaring bone in your body. He’s heard how rough you have it at work sometimes, and wanted to make sure that you were taking care of yourself as well. He had no doubt that you were an excellent nurse.

Rubbing your eyes and shaking your head to rid yourself of the ????? panic in your head, you open your messages from Taehyung.

Taehyung (1): Wake up!! [0824]

Taehyung (2): Breakfast time, sleeping beauty! [0856]

Ignoring the rush of nerves in your stomach, you reply.

Y/N: hi [0901]

Y/N: You do know what time it is right [0901]

Ding!

Taehyung: Sure do, it’s 9am. Come outside I made grilled cheese. And coffee as promised. [0902]

Getting up to brush your teeth, you reply.

Y/N: You made grilled cheese? Or Jimin made grilled cheese? [0902]

Taehyung: I sprinkled the cheese. [0903]

Y/N: A man after my own heart. [0903]

Taehyung: :) [0903]

You open another conversation.

Y/N: Thanks for the grilled cheese. [0905]

Jimin: ;) [0905]

After brushing your teeth and throwing on a large sweater over your sleeping shorts, you slide your feet through your house slippers and begrudgingly make your way downstairs. You smooth down your bedhead and grab a blanket from the couch to wrap around yourself, making your way to your backyard door. You see Taehyung bring out two steaming mugs of coffee as you pull open the door— trying your best to give him cut-eye for waking you up early (but failing miserably when you see the extra-large grey sweater he’s donning).

Hands hidden in sweater paws, he sets down the two mugs and glances up at you, grin stretching from ear to ear.

“Hi,” You say sheepishly, coming closer to where he’s standing near their couch on the patio. “I’m tired.”

Arms outstretched as you go near him, Taehyung engulfs you in a hug that smells very much like Taehyung- fresh linen and something sweet. Why do you even know this?

Suddenly feeling shy, you playfully shove him off and onto the couch. “You woke me up, jerk.”

“If you were actually upset, then why are you out here?” He says smirking, ends of his lips curled upwards. Plopping yourself down onto the couch beside you, you pick up your cup of coffee, eyes looking anywhere but his.

“Where’s everyone?”

“Jimin left early to open up the café since someone called in sick, Namjoon is in the shower and Jungkook is still sleeping.” Taehyung says in between bites of his sandwich. Elephant in the room. Balling up his napkin and pushing your plate towards you, he starts “So...”

“So...?” You speak while taking a bite, still avoiding his eyes. An awkward beat passes between the two of you, as you both eat in silence, occasionally glancing up at the other. The summer sun shining bright behind him and rising by the minute, you squint your eyes at him.

“About last night... I think I might have drank too much.” He says. There’s a slight sinking feeling in your stomach as the words leave his mouth, but either way, you make sure he doesn’t feel too bad for acting out of character.

“Oh, don’t worry about it at all, it happens.” You say, indefinitely avoiding his eyes. “You don’t have to have regrets.”

“Actually I do have regrets,” He says, hand reaching out to place on your forearm.

“No no no, you shouldn’t. Actually it makes more sense this way, and honestly I was the one that made you come out with me—”

Before going off on one of your nervous tangents, your argument is cut short when Taehyung runs his hand down your arm to place your hand in his. Stopping yourself, you furrow your brows at him as he laughs lightly to himself.

“What I meant was,” He stops to push a strand of hair behind your ear. “I only have regrets because I didn’t ask you out first. And because I ruined my own plan by kissing you prematurely.” Hearing him say he had his own plan makes you laugh, but you’re still confused.

“When did you…even start feeling this way about me? I had no clue.” Sitting up to grab your mug, “I always just thought you were looking out for me as a good neighbour. Or because you thought I was a loser, sleeping all day and not doing anything.” He laughs at this.

“Well, that’s partly true.” He says, laughing as he sees you giving him some side-eye. Leaning back to throw an arm around your shoulders, Taehyung says, “It wasn’t until seeing you every morning on your way home from work and before I left for work myself, that I realized it was what I looked forward to everyday.”

You soften at this, but can’t help to throw in some self-deprecating humour since you’re still reeling from the confession. “You looked forward to seeing this sleep deprived grump coming home from what was probably a rough shift?”

Flashing his wide smile at you again, he says, “Precisely.”

You stop yourself when you almost check your wrist for your pulse, your heart rate must be over 100 at this point because you suddenly feel out of breath and nervous. Opting to just stay quiet, you lean your head against his shoulder.

A few beats of silence pass as both sit in each other’s company.

“Taehyung, why do you sit out here so late after work?” You feel him tense beside you. Sighing, he says.

“Work… has just been kicking my ass lately.” Pulling you closer into his shoulder and staring forward at nothing particular. “I just have a lot of pressure and weight on my shoulders. So I just need to decompress sometimes.”

“Is it the promotion?”

“Ehhh. Among other things,” he says, nervously twirling your hair above your shoulder. “Hey! Does that mean you’ve been spying on me?”

“I can neither confirm nor deny.” Holding your hand up for a high five, you speak, “I’m here for you though.” Laughing, he reaches up to high five you back, locking your fingers between his. Just then you hear the sliding door open. Jungkook.

You make a move to pull apart but Taehyung stops you and says, “He knows,” while shoving some grilled cheese in his mouth.

“Of course I know,” Jungkook says, stealing the other half of Tae’s sandwich. “It was obvious to all of us after you moved in and all Tae could talk about was helping you with your moving boxes because he wanted to be a gOod nEighBour.”

“Jeeze bro, do you need more sleep or something?” Taehyung says beside you, glaring at his roommate.

“Oh another thing, back before we knew you were nocturnal, he’d always wonder when you’d be awake or if you were home. He always took out the trash at night in case he could see you, so we just let him make it his chore.” Jungkook says grinning.

“Alright, alright,” Taehyung says getting up, shoving the younger boy to the door. “That’s enough. There’s more food inside so go.”

Taehyung pushes a backwards Jungkook all the way until he’s inside the kitchen and pulls it closed. Before departing into the house, Jungkook flashes you two finger hearts while smiling.

All you can do is shake your head and smile, mind still reeling at all of these new revelations.

“Last night was fun though, thanks again.” You say, still avoiding his eyes. “You were a good fake boyfriend.”

“Don’t mention it,” The boy says, both of you making eye contact while a beat passes. “Any time you need me, I’m here.” And he was.

Two weeks go by and despite his confessions, you both fall back into your usual routine. Nothing needed to change, except maybe some flirting and a few stolen kisses here and there. Your schedules made it hard to see each other, especially when you were working but you could always find time to meet whether it was in the early morning sun or late at night in the moonlight. There didn’t need to be labels, you were having fun after all.

There was even one random Thursday night that you may or may not have kept him out longer than intended, not that he cared really.

It was 2330 at night and you were at work after picking up an extra few hours to help with staffing shortages on the unit. You had gotten a ride to work with Esther and completely forgot as you were leaving that you didn’t drive. You texted Taehyung after your shift and after learning your predicament, he called you.

“But Tae, it’s a work night! You don’t have to pick me up.” You nagged on the phone. “It’s late. I was just going to order an Uber.”

“Exactly, all the more reason to pick you up.” Taehyung said on the phone. “I’ll be there in 2 minutes.”

“Fine,” You relent. “But let me treat you at least.”

2 minutes and not a second later, the lights of Taehyung’s car flash at the entrance of the hospital. Towing your work bag over your shoulder, you meet him, smiles donning both of your faces. As soon as you’re in the car, you smile sheepishly at him and thank him for picking you up.

“Hungry?” You ask.

“It’s 11:30 at night.”

“...And?” You say. Taehyung just shrugs. “Okay, well I still have to thank you in some way for picking me up.”

He smirks at this, eyebrows raising. As you reach over and smack him on his shoulder, Taehyung’s expression softens and he laughs. “Okay, okay just kidding.”

“Let’s get breakfast.”

And so the two of you do exactly that, stopping at the 24-hour breakfast place just down the road from the hospital. A staple on your nightshifts. You weren’t planning on dining in, but the two of you naturally slid into a booth and shared a plate of Nutella pancakes loaded with strawberries. An hour and a half had gone by without you even realizing, both of you debating over if sweet or savoury was superior. (Taehyung insisted it was sweet, but a savoury crepe was top tier.) You started getting sleepy since you weren’t able to get your pre-shift coffee.

After paying for your food, the two of you made your way back to his car. Hands in your sweater, you bumped Taehyung’s hip as he threw an arm over your shoulder.

While in the car, streetlights passing, you try to stifle a yawn into your arm.

“Tired?” Taehyung asks.

“Yeah, aren’t you?” You say, eyes drifting closed. “You have work tomorrow...”

Taehyung can only smile at you as he reaches over and threads his fingers through yours. You take his hand in both of yours as you lean your head against the seat, facing the window so he can’t see the blush that creeps on your face. Yep, no labels.

The next morning, Taehyung was late for work. You wake up to his footsteps in the backyard, trudging down the steps of your deck. Glasses perched at the end of his nose, you can tell from behind that he’s walking with his eyes closed as he waddles to his car. Wearing a maroon t-shirt and black jeans, he throws his shoulder bag into the front seat before driving off.

Well, at least it’s casual Friday.

To be honest, you couldn’t exactly pinpoint how you felt about Taehyung. There were definitely feelings there, but you guessed it was just you being cautious and wary as usual. That, and the fact that you weren’t expecting to fall or feel anything remotely of the sort for anyone while you were here.

This isn’t part of your plan.

The panic alarms go off in your head once in a while, but you’ve started to ignore them.

The clock in the nursing station reads 0645 on a Monday and as you sit down to finish charting on all of your patients, you get a text message.

Taehyung: Quick coffee date after work and before I work? [0645]

Taehyung: Or are you too tired? You’re off tonight right? [0645]

Always the double-texter.

Y/N: Yes, I’m tired and yes I’m off tonight. But yes, coffee. :) [0646]

Taehyung: Can’t wait.

You smile and shove your phone away to finish charting. Bibi sits beside you and scoffs, rolling her eyes. You eventually told her why Taehyung came with you that night, from the plan all the way to your walk with him.

“What is it, Bibi?” You say sighing, not even bothering to look up from your computer.

“Nothing, nothing…” Bibi says, twirling around in her computer chair. “Just that you’re a big liar.”

“About what?!” Still not turning to look at her. “When have I ever been untruthful?”

“Oh nothing, except maybe to yourself.” She says, smirking at you. “You know, even though we work in the cardiac ICU, you seem to listen to every heart except your own.”

“Ha ha. How long were you sitting on that one?”

A call bell goes off and she gets up to answer it, but not before shooting you a wink. Saved by the bell, you get a moment of solitude and don’t dwell too much on what she said.

You practically run to your car after changing out of your scrubs (and brushing your teeth). Night shift breath is… no joke. Briefly you wonder if you need to touch up your makeup when you see the dark circles under your eyes, but decide against it –Taehyung never cared how you looked after work and you start making your way to the café.

Taehyung’s already sitting in your usual spot on the loveseat, two coffees on the table in front of him. He’s checking something on his laptop while you sit beside him, eventually nudging him in the arm with your elbow when he doesn’t notice you sitting there.

“Hi.” He says, “Sorry sorry, just finishing up this work presentation.” You wave him off, taking a sip of your coffee. “Okay, done. How are you?” He says, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

A soft blush creeps onto your face, and Taehyung grins. “I’m good. I had a fair assignment last night, but they made me charge nurse.” You frown at Taehyung. You didn’t mind being in charge, but you felt like it was the blind leading the blind when you were with your inch of experience. Thankfully you had a good team working last night.

“Aw, I’m sure you did a great job.” He says, an arm thrown around your shoulder. “Besides, we love a strong woman in charge.” He picks up one of your arms, poking at your bicep. “Well, maybe not that strong.”

You shove him back onto the couch, laughing while Taehyung’s hand comes up to smooth out the crease in his dress shirt. “Hey, I have a presentation to do today. I’m already nervous as it is, so be careful with the merchandise.”

“A presentation? With who?”

“Oh you know, the executives. The partners. The works.”

“I’m sure you’re gonna do fine, Mr. Promotion. Just be yourself.” You say, patting his head. “And I’ll be home tonight, we can decompress together. And maybe get some food.”

“I’d love that.”

“Speaking of food, do you want anything? Breakfast of champions to hype you up for your presentation?”

“I’m almost worried to find out what your version of breakfast means.”

“I’ll surprise you.” You say giggling, getting up to order at the counter. You stand and wait for your food—chocolate croissants (for you), a mini breakfast club and a double shot of expresso for Taehyung. Just as you’re about to send a message to Jungkook about working out later, your order is called out.

But as you make your way over to Taehyung, you realize he’s standing and talking to an older man dressed in a suit. You see the way Taehyung is hurriedly packing his laptop into his work bag, and you awkwardly interrupt to hand him his coffee and sub.

“Hello.” The older man says to you. “I’m Mr. Kim.”

“Hi, I’m Y/N.” You say, sheepishly reaching out to shake his hand and glancing at Taehyung sideways.

“Y/N, this is Mr. Kim, CEO of SunnyDaes.” Taehyung says nervously, shoving his hands into his pockets and looking at everything but your eyes. “And also, my dad.”

You were nervous at graduation, nervous about your maid of honour speech at your sister’s wedding, and you almost passed out writing your nursing licensure exam. But in this moment, it truly felt like your stomach dropped out of your ass.

“Oh. Oh! Hi sir, it’s nice to meet you.” You said, unconsciously bowing before standing up straighter.

“It’s nice to meet you too,” Mr. Kim says, with a smirk on his face. “Nice to meet the girl who’s been making Taehyung late for work every day. Do you have work to get to, as well?”

“No, she actually worked last night, Dad.” Taehyung says.

“Oh, did you now? What do you do for work?” Mr. Kim says again, asking you directly, eying you up and down.

“I’m a nurse.” You say, fidgeting with the sleeves of your top, feeling suddenly self-conscious in your sweats.

“Oh, very nice.” He says giving you a soft smile. He adds, “Did you always want to be a nurse? How long were you in school for?”

“Dad, please.” Taehyung says, eyes closing in defeat. “Please don’t grill her. Besides, she needs to get home to sleep. Right, Y/N?”

“Oh no, it’s fine.” You say. “Yes, I always wanted to be a nurse. And I was in school for four years.”

“Ah! That’s surprising.” Taken back, you wait for him to finish. “I guess some young people actually know what they want to do.” Flashing Taehyung a wink, he pats him on the back. “Let’s go. The executives are looking forward to your presentation.”

You look at Taehyung and mouth a quick “good luck” to him. Though your smile says otherwise, he can see the panic in your eyes. You hated surprises and definitely needed time to mentally prepare for well, anything.

Smoothing out his shirt once again, Taehyung makes his way to the café door, his father following behind.

“Oh, and Y/N?” Mr. Kim says, looking back. You nod and he continues, “Would it be alright to grill you later this evening for dinner?”

His back to you, you see Taehyung freeze.

“Um, yeah- I mean, yes that would be alright Mr. Kim.”

“Excellent.”

As they both leave, you sit carefully on the loveseat, thinking about what had just transpired. Feeling numb to your fingers, you wipe your palms on the fabric of your jeans. Long forgetting the croissants in the brown paper bag, you place them on the coffee table in front of you, appetite non-existent.

You can’t ignore the panic alarms now.

AN: hi hi sorry this was long overdue like a year overdue oops, i wrote it and rewrote it so many times before i realized i just needed to post it!! i’m literally posting this before i have to work tonight sooo sorry to leave it on a cliff hanger, but maybe this will push me to keep going hehehe okay anyway i hope y’all enjoy!!

chelsea

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lordabovehelpme · 3 years

Text

Save the Day- Din Djarin x Reader

Request: For your DFWL series (which is the best series? I?) May I request for reeza and the twins somehow accidently break a vase or something, and Myles has to be a big brother and attempt to like fix it and try to make sure the parents dont find out cause they went out for a bit? Or just hcs of Myles being a good big bro because i think it would be the cutest! - anon

A/n: Hello lovely! I am so happy to hear that you have been enjoying DFWL so far! I know I have been having a blast writing it! This is such a good idea, so I hope you enjoy this chapter!!! Love ya!

This is the next chapter of my Days filled with Love series. You can find the first chapter here! :)

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“Okay Ready?” Reeza asks as she grabs the back of Isabets little legs.

“REE VAH!” A pat is given to Reeza’s head and she laughs.

“Alright, hold on!” She leans forward a little and starts to kick her foot, just as Paz had told them bulls do. “MMmmmmmmmm.” She takes off and sprints around the meadow.

Both girls giggle and scream as they feel like they are flying. Tobbi laughs from where he sits with Grogu, crayons and markers all over the porch. Myles happily draws pictures with his fellow brothers.

The five of them were supposed to be being watched by Paz. However, the giant warrior had ultimately fallen asleep on the couch. Who could blame him? Five energetic kids is a lot to watch.

You and Din are out on a date, one eagerly prompted by their uncle. “You guys never get out anymore. Go have fun! I’ll watch the kids. And maybe you can come back with the news of another!”

You had blushed and complained that your family was already big enough. But the two mandalorians, in their mandalorian way, giggled back and forth. They assured you that in their culture, a family never stops growing. However they both laughed when you sighed, “My back already hurts.”

So here the kids are, having already worn their uncle out and still lots of energy to keep them up.

“MYLES!” Reeza rushes back to her brothers with Isabet still on her back.

“What?” He looks up from his very detailed landscape he was currently drawing.

“BEES!”

“What do you- BEES!” Flying behind the two girls is a swarm of insects, instantly recognized from the bright yellow and buzz of their wings. Myles, ever the quick thinker, yells out, “GO TO THE LAKE! THEY CAN’T GET YOU IN WATER!”

Reeza runs as fast as her legs will carry her. “Okay Issy, time to learn how to swim!” She gets about hip deep before taking her sister into her arms. Making sure both their heads stay above the water she gets as deep as she can into the lake.

A loud battle cry comes from Myles as he runs to the shore where the bees have stopped. In his hand he pulls the hose and aims it towards the swarm. Holding it like a blaster, just the way his father taught him, he places his finger over the nozzle. The spray of water becomes harsh and unforgiving.

“HAH TAKE THAT! THAT'S WHAT YOU GET WHEN YOU MESS WITH THE DJARINS!”

“WAIT WHAT ABOUT TOBBI AND GROGU?” Reeza calls out from the safety of the lake.

“CRAP!” Myles instantly drops the hose and runs back to the house, on a mission to keep his brothers safe. Rushing up to the porch he scoops his brothers into his arms and does a 180, sprinting towards the lake. Tobbi squeals in delight and his little legs kick as Myles enters the water.

The five of them wait for about seven minutes before starting to bicker about who will walk out first.

“Myles, you're the oldest, you go first.”

“But I’m holding Grogu and Tobbi, and I can hold Isabet, you can’t hold all three of them. We are the older siblings so we have to keep them safe.”

Reeza huffs before realizing her brother is correct. “Fine, but if I die it’s your fault.” She hands Isabet to Myles before slowly wadding towards the shore. It’s a humorous sight. Myles, waist deep in the water with his three squirming siblings in his arms.

All four children watch as their sister walks onto the shore and cautiously looks around. She does a full 360, checking for the insects.

“Okay, it’s alright.”

***

Now in clean dry clothes the children decided that maybe it is safer to stay inside.

Paz is still passed out on the couch, and the kids, trying to be as respectful as they can, decided that the living room is off limits.

They are currently in the kitchen, on a mission for snacks. Raiding cabinet after cabinet they eventually find the items that appeal to them most.

“Let’s eat the grapes in the fridge too, Mom always says we have to eat as many fruits as we do crackers.”

Happy with this, Reeza sits down at the table after strapping her siblings into their chairs.

Myles opens the fridge and grabs the bowl of fruit you had cut up this morning as well as some peanut butter. Reeza opens the packet of crackers and places them in a design on a plate.

“We shall dine like Kings and Queens!” She announces while tucking her napkin into her shirt. Myles laughs while sitting down at his own seat.

Grogu, noticing the lack of parents, smiles before holding his hand out. A single grape rises from the bowl. Tobbi giggles while he holds a cracker in his fist.

Reeza drops down from her seat and rushes over to the side of the room. “Grogu, let’s play a game. You throw the fruit around and I’ll try to catch it with my mouth!”

Grogu claps his hands in agreement. Instantly the grap flies through the air towards Reeza. She leans towards the right and effectively catches it in her mouth. All five kids erupt in laughter. Well, except Isabet, she just sits with a scowl on her face, but you all have come to realize it is just her natural face.

This game goes on until the bowl is almost empty. Grogu has Reeza doing rolls and jumps to try and get the food. However, on the last piece of fruit Grogu throws it towards her left. She rolls and goes to stand up, but…

BAM!

It almost happens in slow motion. She had run into the tall table you have near the window. Some of your trusted house plants rest there as it is one of the places that the house gets the most sun. The vase with a bouquet of wildflowers the kids had picked you wobbles. It shakes and then tilts off of the table.

They all watch in horror as the vase crashes to the floor. Thankfully it landed on the mat by the door so it only broke into about six pieces, but water goes everywhere.

Reeza turns to her brother, head tucked into her shoulders and tears welling at her eyes. Myles runs about four different scenarios through his head in the span of a couple seconds, weighing each option against one another.

After only five seconds he has a plan. Rushing over to his sister he hugs her. “It’s okay.”

“Mom is going to be so mad!” Tears start to fall on her cheeks.

“No no it’ll be fine. We’ll fix it. But I’m going to need your help, alright?” He looks at her. She wipes away her tears and nods. “Okay I need you to go grab some towels.” She nods again and rushes off towards the laundry room.

Myles turns to where his three siblings sit at the table, all their eyes wide. “You guys stay put, we don’t want glass to get into your feet.”

When none of them go to move he turns towards the oven. Grabbing a stove mit he starts to pick up pieces of the vase. Separating the glass and the flowers, he’s happy when he has two piles.

Reeza bounds down the stairs, quieter than usual as she doesn’t want to wake their uncle. In her hands are two towels.

“Okay, I think I got all the glass up but be careful. Go ahead and put the first towel on the ground and try to soak up as much as you can.” Following his command she does exactly as told. “I am going to go get some glue, don’t let them leave the table.”

Running as fast as he can, he rushes to where his father has supplies to fix about anything. Opening drawer after drawer he finally finds some super glue. “Perfect!”

Making a mental note of where he found the glue he goes back to the kitchen. Analysing the broken pieces he can see where the pieces fit together. Being extra careful, he applies glue to one piece and then another, and presses them together.

“Reeza how is the water going?”

“Towel one is soaked but all the water is up.”

“Great, can you please go quickly throw those in the hamper and put the clean towel back where you found it.”

She nods, her face as serious as he’s ever seen it.

“Okay Grogu, I need your help.” At the sound of his name, he looks up at his brother. “Can you hold these pieces together?” As if it were magic, the pieces are pressed against one another and held in place. Grogu coos, overjoyed that his older brother needs him.

“Perfect! Now I am going to start to glue and add more pieces, so can you do more than one at a time?”

Grogu coos once again and his little eyebrows furrow in concentration. When Myles adds another piece, he effectively holds it right in place. “Alright! There we go!”

Reeza sits down next to her brother, however her usual bright cheery smile is replaced by a frown. “Do you think Mommy is going to be mad?”

Picking his words carefully, Myles turns to look at her. “No, don’t worry about it. I’ll tell them. They won’t be mad at you.”

***

The vase is officially glued back together and it seems to be holding water. The glue is back where Myles found it and the flowers are back in the vase.

“Parents alert!” Reeza informs from where she was sitting at the window. In the distance she can see the Crest flying towards the house.

“Okay time for the clean protocol!”

They move faster than they ever have before. They pick up the crayons and markers from outside, put away the dishes from the kitchen, and settle in on the couch with their uncle. The house looks just as you had left it, no evidence of their eventful day.

Just as they practiced, as soon as the door is unlocked, they all close their eyes and pretend to be asleep. Even the twins know the routine by now.

“Oh babe, look how cute!” They can hear your hushed voice as you talk to their dad.

“Uh hum. You could hear Paz’s snore from the next planet over.”

A soft slap echos through the living room. “Don’t be mean, he gave up his day so we could go out. Be nice.”

They listen as your footsteps get closer and you pick the twins up. Still playing the part, they keep their eyes closed.

“Paz?” Your hushed voice tries to wake him.

The giant warrior stirs before finally waking. “Hmm what?”

“Glad to see you’re awake. We’re back.”

“I can see that.”

You giggle. “How were the kids?”

His arms lift as he looks around and counts heads. “They were great!”

“That’s good. Are you going to stay the night? I know it’s late and I’d hate to kick you out.”

“It’s late?” He mumbles to himself. “Oh umm no, I need to get back but if you need me to stay I can.”

“Oh no it’s alright. Thank you again for watching them.”

“Yeah no problem. You know how much I love them.”

Din has already taken the twins and Grogu up to their room and put them down. He walks back down just as Paz rises from the couch. They give one another a hug and a firm pat on the back. “Thanks man.”

“For sure.” Paz looks back at you before turning towards his brother. “When are you two having the next one?”

Din chuckles. “You try and ask her. Last time I did I had to carry a twenty pound weight around for a week. That shit’s not fun.”

Paz lets out a loud laugh but immediately stops after you scowl at him and point to the kids. “Sorry.”

After the three of you talk for a few more minutes, Paz makes his way out of the door. You sit down on the couch between Reeza and Myles. Reeza shuffles a little and settles down onto your lap. You smile and start to softly brush her hair.

Myles opens his eyes, as if he just woke up. “Hi Mom.”

“Hi baby.” Your arm wraps around his shoulder and pulls him close to you, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “How was your day?”

“It was good… uneventful.” It takes everything in Reeza to stop herself from snickering.

“Oh, that’s good.” Din sits down on the other side of Myles and places his arm on the back of the couch, keeping all three of you within his hold.

“How was your date?”

“It was good, although I missed you guys.” You press another kiss to Myles cheek and he giggles.

“Your mother has separation anxiety.”

Myles laughs while you glare at your husband. “Of course I do! You guys are my babies.” Looking down at Reeza, you scratch her back and you feel a shiver run down her spine.

“Time to go to bed.” Your husband huffs as he stands up, taking Reeza into his arms he beckons Myles to follow him. “Say goodnight to your mother.”

“Goodnight mom.” Myles wraps his arms around your neck and presses a kiss to your cheek. You smile and hold him close.

“Goodnight my love. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

***

You turn the faucet and warm water starts to run. Hands grip at your hips and kisses are placed against the back of your neck. He pulls the zipper down on the back of your dress. Every inch of skin that is revealed to him he sucks and nips at it.

“You looked so good in this dress.”

Turning around in his arms, you press a kiss to his lips. “Mm thank you.”

He growls as you bite his bottom lip.

“Reeza was awake, wasn’t she?”

“Definitely.”

You giggle and slip from his hold. “They’re so funny. I hope they were alright today.”

He sighs as he realizes he’s not getting as lucky as he originally thought. “Cyare, you worry too much. They said they had a great day.”

You slip into the bubbly water and lean forward, silently asking him to slide in behind you. “I can’t help it.”

He kicks off his pants and sits behind you, pulling you into his chest. You rest your head against his shoulder and close your eyes.

The two of you just stay against each other in the comfort of warm water for a second.

“Cyare?”

“Mmm?”

His hand moves over your stomach. “Are you sure you don’t want another one?”

You sigh. “Din, babe, the twins aren’t even one yet.”

“Soooo?”

You laugh, “You’re insatiable. You can ask again in a year. I need a break for right now.”

He presses a kiss to your forehead. “I just love you so much.” You turn your head so he can press a kiss to your lips. “And our family.”

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

Next Part: Rainy Day

I hope you all liked it!

Please consider leaving a comment or reblogging, I love hearing what you all have to say! It makes my day!

Love, Lordy :)

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yourfavwriter · 4 years

Text

Mark but make it jealous

Tag: @floweringtheflowers IM SORRY I TOOK FOREVER BUT I WAS SO BUSY WITH SCHOOL AND EVERYTHING ILY BAE IM SO SORRY IF IVE LET YOU DOWN WITH THIS 😔

Summary: Mark was usually all soft and sweet to you, who knew what getting coffee would do to the man.

Notes: smut so if you're not into that don't read it, dom Mark and sub reader, reader is female

You breathed in the scent of fresh steaming coffee and sweet cake as you held Marks warm hand in yours. As you walked up to the cashier you kept repeating your order in your head making sure not to mess up.

"Hello what can I do for you guys today" the cashier asked only quickly glancing at Mark as he studied your face taking in your sparkly eyes and plump, soft lips.

"Hi can I have one tall iced coffee with sugar and cream? Also some caramel on top." You said. You watched as the cashier typed away on his little board.

"Okay one tall iced coffee for the lovely lady, what about you sir" Mark stirred uncomfortably at the flirty remarks of the cashier but as to not start anything big went along with it.

"Hey yeah I just want a small black coffee." The cashier nodded and typed away at the register.

"Okay that brings your total to $10.45." you attempted to slip your hand away from Mark's to grab your purse but before you could Mark took out his credit card and payed instead. "Hey I said I was gonna pay!" You whispered looking at Mark. He smiled,

"Too late I already did" you pouted and went back to staring at all the cakes on display as you waited for your drinks.

"I'm gonna go to the bathroom real quick" Mark said pulling his hand away from yours you nodded still staring at all the cakes.

"So is he your boyfriend or something?" You heard the cashier ask. You were taken aback by the question since it had come out of nowhere but you simply smiled.

"Yes he is"

"Ahh I see." He side clicking his tongue

"You seem to be out of his league if I'm being honest with you, you're very beautiful you deserve a real man." Your smile slowly faded off your face and you cleared your throat trying to ignore his attempts to get with you.

"Awe come on don't ignore me now I was playing with you. But if you ever get tired of him just know I'm free whenever you need me." As he finished his sentence he slid you a napkin with his number on it. You looked towards the bathroom trying to find Mark only for him to be no where in sight.

"Here's your coffees have a nice day and don't forget to call me" the cashier said winking after. You grabbed the drinks and took them to a table to wait for Mark making sure to throw out the napkin he gave you on the way. As you waited for Mark you impatiently tapped your feet until

"Hey babe"

"Hey Mark can we leave now?"

"Uh sure" Mark was confused on why you were so nervous but thought it was just the jitters, public settings weren't always the best for you so he understood. You suddenly felt someone tap your shoulder and you knew who it was. Before you could turn around and tell him to leave you alone he spoke up,

"I noticed you threw the other napkin away so here's another napkin" you an Mark turned in sync to look at the chaser who was now holding out another napkin with his phone number and name clearly written on it. Out of the corner of your eyes you could see Mark fuming.

"Uhm that's sweet of you but-"

"She has a boyfriend dude back off" Mark said now wrapping his arm around your waist.

"Uh yeah but she could probably use my number just in case you know." You internally face-palmed as embarrassment filled your body. Mark scoffed before he replied back with anger

"Thanks for the offer but I'm all she needs."

"I was just playing around bro don't take it to the heart." The cashier said before he gave Mark a light punch on the shoulder and walked away. Mark grabbed your wrist and led you out of the coffee shop and to your car. You caught one last glimpse of the cashier as Mark dragged you out of that hell hole and he simply smirked at you, you were now angry too for the man to flirt so shamelessly with you. The whole ride home was silent you only quietly sipped on your coffee in case anything you said angered him further.

"So you wanna explain what that was back there?" Mark asked as soon as you stepped foot through the door. You slowly turned to look at him in disbelief, almost laughing at his question.

"I don't think I have to explain anything you saw that cashier flirting with me."

"And you did nothing to stop him" you were now not only angry and the cashier but Mark too.

"You act like I was flirting with him"

"You might as well have been you were all 'awweee i have a boyfriend maybe flirt with me while he's not looking'" Mark said mocking your voice and even going as far as to bat his eyelashes.

"Okay Mark what the fuck? I was declining his offer gently as to not make a big deal but you act as if I was cheating on you?"

"You could've been more firm with your words since he obviously wasn't getting the point"

"I was trying to be nice what did you want me to slap him infront of everyone or something?"

"Uhm kind of!" Mark said throwing his hands in the air as if it were the obvious route to take.

"I seriously can't believe you right now some creep was hitting on me right infront of you and you blame me for not being stern enough with him when you did nothing!" You raised your voice obviously pissed now.

"I'm the one who got you out of there!" Mark said also raising his voice now.

"I wish he was the one getting me out of there" you mumbled under your breath apparently loud enough to Mark to hear.

"What. Did. You. Just. Say." He said clenching his teeth trying his best to keep his calm. You decided to tease him as pay back for his blaming your innocent self.

"I said 'i wish he was the one getting me out of there' did you not hear me the first-" you were cut off when Mark suddenly pushed you up against the wall, his face mere inches away from yours.

"So you wanna act up now?" He said pinning your wrists against the wall. You nodded smiling just to anger him further. He scoffed and looked away for a second.

"Oh you're so in for it tonight." He leaned in to kiss you but your turned your face at the last second still not done with your teasing.

"I see how it is" Was the last thing you heard before he threw you over his shoulder and took you straight to the bedroom. You tried flailing your arms and legs

"Mark let me go!" You whined not actually meaning it but saying it just to see his reaction (remember consent is key children if someone says no or to stop mid-action respect their wishes) he simply ignored all your poor attempts to escape and went on his merry way. When he entered the bedroom he dropped you on the mattress and immediately got in top of you.

He kissed you roughly for a bit before leaving a hot trial of kisses down your jaw and onto your neck, making sure to such hickeys on to your neck.

You sighed in pleasure which didn't last long, next thing you knew he was practically trying to rip your top off of you after getting frustrated with the buttons. You giggled to yourself before moving his hands and undoing the buttons yourself. After your shirt was taken care of he reached around your back and unclipped your bra with one single movement, exposing your chest to him.

You were expecting him to start massaging or playing with your breasts like he usually did but instead he went to unbutton your jeans, it did catch you by surprise but he was still angry at you and angry Mark means no foreplay.

He was having trouble figuring out your jeans to which you helped him yet again and as soon as he could he threw your jeans across the room, panties still on.

He quickly rose to his feet and undressed himself leaving only his boxers on, you bit your lip at the sight infront of you. Mark knelt on the bed and turned your body so that you were now on your stomach. Before you could ask what he was doing he put you face down, ass up in the air. You felt his hand rub against your smooth ass and relished the feeling of him being gentle before he released all his anger and stress on you.

Just as you were about to make some snarky remark about him being so gentle after all his roughness he spanked you. You jolted at the sudden noise and felt a stinging pain.

"Ow Mark that hurt!"

"Did i say you could speak?" He asked in a low voice. His voice was scarly calm compared to his actions which confused you.

"No but-"

"Then be quiet." You immediately shut your mouth and surrendered to his touch. He spanked you once, twice, three times, 4 times, and one last time. By the time he was done your eyes were threatening to spill out a river of tears and your knees were just about to give out. Mark held you steady in place and pushed your panties to the side exposing your already dripping core.

"You really get this turned on just by me being angry?" Mark said while chuckling. You whined eager to feel him inside you and he complied. Mere seconds later you felt him enter you and immediately start pouring into you, not letting you adjust to his size.

"Mark! Slow..slow down" you stuttered trying to hold yourself together. He only went faster and pounded deeper into you, tempting you to let out the sinful sounds he always loved to hear from you. You moaned and whimper so close to orgasming before Mark pulled out. He quickly flipped you over so that you were on your back and entered you again before you could let out any words. The sound of both you and mark moaning and your skin slapping made you come undone in his hands.

"I'm gonna..." You trailer off seeing stars as you closer your eyes.

"You're gonna cum aren't you?" Mark said all cockily only he could fuck you this good and only he could get you to be a whimpering mess with just his light touches. You nodded vigorously. You came with Mark still inside of you and when he felt you walls clench around him he pulled out cumming all over your thighs. You panted and closed your eyes close to sleeping when you heard his voice right next to you now.

"Don't fall asleep yet princess I'm not done with you just yet."

#nct dream #nct 127 #nct smut #nct mark #nct imagines #nct #nct au #im just trying to put a lot of hashtags so someone sees this #idk what else to tag

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vintagedolan · 3 years

Text

mixtape - track eleven

| masterlist | faceclaims | playlist |

I was hiding from myself too. I was hiding from the part of my brain that was like ‘what are you gonna do now?’. Like, there’s a part of your brain that does thrive off of feeling like shit.

The voice shifted, just for a moment.

Yea-

It was a tiny sound in the back, from behind the camera. It didn’t even form a full word before Ethan continued talking, but Indy flinched anyway. It was always worse when she was unprepared for it.

In her distraction, she’d streaked her concealer too far past her eye and sighed, using her finger to pat it in, ignoring the way it splotched. It probably wasn’t the right shade, and it was definitely expired, but it was enough for her to look like maybe she had slept in the last two weeks.

She hadn’t. Not really. Every time she closed her eyes, even to blink, he was there. Sometimes, she welcomed it. But in that moment, standing in her mirror in her scrubs, she didn’t want to see his face. She didn’t want to hear his voice. Because she had to keep it together for 16 hours. 12 hours at the hospital on the peds floor, and another 4 at her shift at Jet’s afterward. So she kept her eyes open, took a deep breath, and walked out of her bathroom.

On the other side of the country, Grayson’s eyes were closed.

He wasn’t sleeping. It was 4 in the afternoon, which was the earliest time he could consider himself done with work for the day and escape to his bedroom, closing the door behind him. It only got down to the high forties in LA, even in January, but he climbed under his comforter anyways, pulled his baby blanket up by his face.

Time seemed to crawl by while he lay there alone. He rolled to his side, pulling his pillow down to wrap his arms around it, and when he opened his eyes, he wished he hadn’t. On his nightstand, turned towards him, was the frame that Indy had gotten him for Christmas. He wished she hadn’t curled up so much when he’d taken it. He wished he could see her face more in the glossy material, wished she had given him a picture of just her instead. When he squeezed his eyes shut again he could see her face better, every feature committed to memory. So he looked. He focused on the different shades of blue in her eyes and pretended like she was in class, and that he was on her couch waiting for her to come home.

A knock sounded on his door, and his heart tightened.

Ethan stepped in the room with a bag of Monty’s and a hopeful smile.

Grayson didn’t move.

“I brought you dinner.”

Nothing.

Ethan sighed, dropping the act. He was giving up on it earlier and earlier these days.

“Bro, you’ve gotta eat. You didn’t eat lunch.”

“Not hungry.”

“Bullshit.”

“I’m not.”

“Well, tough shit then, cause I’m not leaving you alone until you eat at least some of this.”

Grayson knew his brother, better than he knew himself sometimes, and he could tell by his tone that he was serious. He didn’t have the energy for a fight, and despite himself, his stomach growled at the smell of the fries in the bag, salty and warm. So he sat up begrudgingly and let Ethan pass him the bag, pretending not to see how his shoulders slumped in relief.

He didn’t have to ask why Ethan stayed. It was to make sure he didn’t sit the bag down as soon as he closed the door behind him. So he waited, and he watched his brother eat his burger slower than usual, fighting to chew it and force it down.

“Where’s yours?” He asked eventually - he knew better than to think that Ethan hadn’t gotten himself a burger.

“I uh… I ate with Eden.”

Grayson stopped chewing. His question was blatant in his eyes, and he waited for the answer.

“No, I didn’t fucking tell her,” Ethan grumbled, running his hand over his face. “But I don’t know how much longer I can do this, I feel like I’m fucking lying to her.”

“Did she ask about… her?” He caught himself. He hadn’t said her name since they left New York.

“Not yet. She knows something is up with you though, and if she starts asking questions I’m telling her.”

“No.” It wasn’t a plea. It was a demand.

“Grayson. She’s gonna find out eventually, I gotta tell her.”

“No. Twin code.”

“Don’t pull that shit man, c’mon, we aren’t six anymore. That’s my wife, and she’s gonna be pissed as fuck at me. If you don’t tell her, I’m gonna have to.”

Grayson stayed quiet and put the rest of his burger back in the bag, his small appetite fading to nausea at the thought of having to admit to anyone else what he had done. He hadn’t had to explain it yet - Ethan knew enough to put the pieces together, and he had enough heart to stay quiet on the plane, just passing over his napkin from his drink as an extra tissue while Grayson looked out the window and cried quietly. But he wasn’t going to tell Eden - he wasn’t ready for that.

Ethan sighed. “I’m just saying Gray, she’s gonna start asking me questions, and I’m not gonna lie to her, that’s not me. That’s not either of us.” He paused, hoping for a response he knew he wasn’t going to get. “Whatever. We have a meeting at 10 tomorrow.”

Ethan left the room in silence, and Grayson closed his eyes.

Indy’s struggled to keep hers open. It was almost 4 am the worst hours of her shift. She poured another cup of coffee from the nurses’ lounge, ignoring the fact that it was burnt as she sipped it down and willed herself to wake up. Part of her wished it was iced - warm drinks made her sleepy, and worse, reminded her of cold New Jersey mornings that she couldn’t afford to think of. Just the idea of reminiscing made her chest tighten enough for her to suck in a breath and start to search for a distraction. She read the schedule instead, checking to see what tech would replace her come 7 am. She still had two vital checks to do on each patient, opting to do them on the even hours. Her head tipped back as she drained the rest of her cup and tossed it in the trash, needing to keep her mind busy.

It wasn’t her job - only nurses could distribute meds, but she could prep the trays for the kids to make their lives easier. So she moved to the med cart and started to look through.

“Adams, Adrian, Bellon, Campbell, Cortez, Jenkins, Kimp, Lopez, Mullins, Norton.” Her fingers stopped for a moment as she traced down the last names on the cart, mumbling them out. No Newcomb. She double-checked. Nothing.

Bekah didn’t have a tray.

Indy’s heart sped up a bit, and she waited until she saw Ayria, one of the night shift nurses, coming out of a room.

“Hey, do you need me to get Newcomb a tray? Hers isn’t on here.” It felt weird to refer to Bekah by her last name, but she didn’t want to seem unprofessional.

Ayria frowned, coming to log into the computer on the med cart and check the charts.

“Oh yeah, everything she’s getting is IV right now, no pills.”

Indy took a breath and steadied herself, glad to see that the clock had turned and she was able to make her rounds. She’d become an expert at taking vitals without waking the kids up - even some of the more seasoned nurses were impressed.

But she could never get past Beks.

The first day, during Indy’s orientation, Bekah could tell something was wrong. It was only three days after Grayson had left after all. Indiana knew that the floor needed a tech, and she knew they’d take her as soon as she asked. She also knew that if she let herself stay at home that she’d never leave it again. So she went and bought the cheapest scrubs she could find and mustered up enough energy to show up.

She didn’t really need Ayria to show her around that day. She knew the unit inside and out from her time as a volunteer; she just needed the codes for the supply rooms and a list of her tasks for her 12-hour shift. But she was glad that they were together when they went into Bekah’s room because Bekah was kind enough not to say anything with someone else there. Now, she didn’t hold back.

“You look like shit,” she said as soon as Indy walked in.

“It’s 4 am, you should be asleep,” Indy countered with a smirk. The incident on Christmas was forgiven without a second thought, and she was relieved to be back to their normal banter as she put her blood pressure cuff on.

“You should be asleep. This is your last shift of the week though.”

“Says who?”

“You’ve been here three days already, that’s the max you can work without overtime.”

Indy kept quiet and wrote down her blood pressure in the chart.

“Are you okay?” Bekah asked quietly, and Indy sucked in a deep breath, trying to stop the tears flooding her eyes.

“I’m fine Beks. Promise.”

Bekah contemplated if she should say it.

“Is it Grayson?”

Indy’s breath caught in her throat. Her hands shook as she held up the thermometer, and she had to blink hard to be able to read the numbers and scribble them down.

Bekah took her silence as an answer.

“Sorry. I know it must be hard, having him so far away,” she murmured. Indy couldn’t find her voice to tell her that it was okay. She fiddled with her blankets, tucking her in nicely and dimming her lights down to give her time to clear the knot in her throat.

“Get some sleep Beks.”

She held it together until she got outside her room, and then the tears escaped. As quickly as she could, she ducked her head and beelined for the nurses’ desk, using her oldest trick of drinking water to keep herself from fully breaking down.

Valentina sat at her desk and watched with a frown, but she didn’t say anything.

Indy gave herself one minute, and then she took a deep breath and got back to work.

Time crawled, and she cursed herself for not leaving enough things to keep her busy for the rest of her shift. By 6 am, she’d resorted to cleaning the tables in the break room and reorganizing supplies in the supply closet to keep herself occupied. She knew the day shift nurses would appreciate the extra effort - they always sung her praises, thrilled to work a shift after her considering how well she set it up for them.

Valentina came into the supply closet at 6:30.

“You might just work our daytime tech out of a job,” she said, making Indy jump and drop the bandages she was restocking.

“You scared me,” she said, catching her breath. “Just restocking.”

“You work too hard,” Valentina shook her head, crossing her arms. “You’re gonna burn yourself out sweetheart, and we need you around here.”

“I’ll be alright.”

“You act like I don’t know you’re going to your other job right after this.”

“They give me good coffee there, what can I say,” Indy teased, but when she looked Valentina’s eyes were sad. “I like to keep busy.”

“Too busy,” she tsked. “You leave at 6:50 today.”

“Valentina-”

“Keep talking and I’ll make it 6:40,” she threatened. “And you get some sleep later, you hear me?”

“Yes ma’am,” Indy conceded, knowing it wasn’t an argument she could win. Nurses weren’t the type to lose an argument, and she’d never met a more nurse-y nurse than Valentina. She finished stocking quickly, gathering her bags and double-checking she’d finished everything before she headed out, waving goodbye to the nurses she saw.

She was distracted on her way out, and she didn’t think when she hit the button to get into the next hallway.

For two weeks, she prepped. Mentally paused and thought of all the things that could hit her out of the blue, make her come unraveled. She was ready, for the couples in the street holding hands, for the husbands coming to walk their wives home from work, the high schoolers on hot chocolate dates in the big city. But it was always the small things that got her.

She hadn’t prepared herself, and her eyes automatically went to the walls when she cleared the doors. The ocean mural. The jellyfish, the sea turtle on the wall that Grayson had said looked like Ethan once. It hit her like a ton of bricks, her chest so tight that she reached up to press on it as she heard his voice in her head. It made her feel pathetic, the way she had to stop and grab onto the rail in the hall and steady herself for a moment. She counted her breaths, trying her hardest to shut her mind off, staring at the blue of the walls as she willed herself to be okay, just for another day.

Grayson was staring at the water. Or at least, he was trying to. The moon wasn’t very bright, but it reflected enough off the ocean for him to get a sense of which way the sun would come up. The whole surface was washed black by the night sky, and it was peaceful. He wanted to swim in it. He wanted to sink beneath it and find that blissful quiet you could only find underwater.

He’d fallen asleep soon after Ethan had left him alone, which meant he found himself wide awake at 4 am, body tired of being asleep. Sitting in bed would only make things worse, so he sent Ethan a quick text and headed off in the Porsche towards the secret beach. There was no one else there so early in the morning, and he was grateful. It gave him the peace of mind to curl in on himself, let the tears flow freely as the waves lapped at the shore, returning over and over.

Time ran away from him in the dark. His tears ceased eventually, dried themselves out as he sat in his misery. He didn’t fight it. Instead, he let it wash over him, sink into every pore and weigh him down, wishing he could somehow disappear into the sand as the sun started to rise and wash the world in light orange. His phone buzzed, no doubt a text from his brother. He elected to ignore it, keeping his eyes on the water, counting the waves as they came in. It was admirable, the dedication they showed; returning every time they got sucked back out.

At some point, he felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up, and he sighed, pulling his hood up over his head in a feeble attempt to hide himself from whoever was watching him. He stood up and brushed the sand off himself, ducking his head down and jogging straight back to his car, hoping whoever it was wasn’t trying to come up to him.

As soon as he ducked into his car and pulled the door shut, he sunk down, resting his forehead against his steering wheel.

“Fuck!” He yelled, smacking his dashboard. His radio turned on with a jolt, connected to his phone and automatically starting his playlist. Cudi blared through the speakers and he groaned, hitting all the wrong buttons in an attempt to get it to turn off.

“Stop, fucking stop!” In a last attempt he chucked his phone across the car, watched it ricochet off the dash and down into the floorboard. He threw his car into reverse with blurry eyes, desperate to get away from anyone who might have a camera. He was paranoid the whole drive home that someone was watching, eyes darting to the windows of any car he ended up next to at a stoplight. It wasn’t until he got the gate closed behind him and he was in the house that he felt like he could breathe again. With Ethan still asleep down the hall, he choked back his sobs as he sat down at the counter, face in his hands.

Indy was taking deep breaths behind the counter as the line started to pile up at Jet’s. She looked to her right, frowning at the stress on her new coworker, Mariposa’s, face as the cups continued to line up next to her.

“Hey Posie,” she called over between customers. “Do you wanna switch?”

“God yes,” she exclaimed, rushing to take Indy’s place at the register so she could move over to the bar.

Indiana preferred it that way. She didn’t have to smile for a latte, she just had to pour it and try not to burn her fingers and move on to the next. It had come back like second nature to her, and she liked the fast pace. It gave less time for her to think, and she welcomed the numbing repetition. She kept an ear piqued towards the register, listening to the orders coming in so she could get ahead. The next one came from a taller man, his face hidden behind a coat.

“Just give me the biggest cup of the strongest stuff you’ve got.”

Indy dropped her cup, a half poured latte splattering all over her hands first, down her apron, then the bottom of her jeans and onto her shoes. It only took one look over at the man to realize it wasn’t Grayson, and she deflated.

“Shit,” she hissed, flicking her hands in an attempt to chill the burn that was already searing on her skin. She side-stepped to the sink, flipping the cold water on and letting it flow over her hands. It stung even more, and she sighed at the bright red of her skin. She’d had enough burns from her time as a barista to know that it would blister.

“Indiana, you okay?” Patrick called from the ovens, moving a line of pastries in and out.

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine.”

He frowned, but kept quiet, letting her get back into the groove of making drinks. Indy could feel him watching her, the familiar weight of a protective eye over her shoulder. At least he was kind enough to wait until her shift was over before he tried to talk to her again.

“Hey, how’s your hand?”

Indy looked down and sighed at the sight of her red skin, resisting the urge to rub it. Instead, she moved to the first aid kit and grabbed a wrap bandage.

“It’s been better, but I’ll survive.”

“Why don’t you take the day off tomorrow,” Patrick suggested as casually as he could. “You know, to rest your hand.”

Indy scoffed.

“It’s not gonna fall off Patrick, I’m fine.”

He sighed. “Fine, if you’re gonna make me say it then I will. You’re a hard worker, one of the best we have, but you’re exhausted. We can all see it, and you don’t need to burn yourself out like this for a minimum wage job. So, you’re off tomorrow. No exceptions.”

“But-”

“No. Exceptions.”

Her anger bubbled up in her like the blister forming on her thumb, but she knew it wasn’t Patrick’s fault. He was right - she was just upset at the idea of having an entire day with nothing to distract her. An empty apartment had never seemed so daunting, and it was all she could think about as she clocked out, got her things together, and walked home.

It was quieter than she’d imagined when she got through the door, the click of the latch echoing through the still space. She thought of turning on music, but that only made her think of Grayson, singing off-key next to her in the truck. She could put on a movie, but it would make her think of cuddling with him on the couch. Her bed was where he had been so many nights. He’d cooked in her kitchen, he’d helped her move furniture in the guest room.

She couldn’t escape him, no matter where she went. And so, as pathetic as she felt doing it, she sunk down right there on the floor, and she let the misery have her. It came in broken sobs that caught on her throat on the way out, too loud even for her own ears as she tried to imagine a day where she didn’t feel like the world was crumbling around her.

She wasn’t sure how long she sat there. But eventually, the things no one ever talked about started to happen. Her butt went numb, and her head started to hurt, and her lips got dry from the saltwater that ran over them. None of that mattered though. What finally got her up from the cold floor was the fact that she was sticky - remnants of the vanilla syrup in the latte that she’d dropped finally congealing and making her feel more disgusting than the tears. She peeled herself up off the floor and headed to her bathroom.

Grayson was in the shower, with his head down, water splashing over his back and bouncing off his shoulders - a statue in the rain. It was the best place to avoid getting on his phone, considering he couldn’t, and that was the only way he could trust himself to not get on twitter and see the aftermath of the morning.

He wondered for a moment what he looked like from outside the glass shower door, standing there with his razor up by his chest. The blades clogged with the long hairs he shaved from his chest, leaving him bare and smoother than he’d been in months. He sat the razor down and moved to pick up a clear bottle from the shelf. Polis was scribbled on it in sharpie in Ethan’s handwriting, remnants of a Wakeheart meeting. Grayson could remember how excited he was to pitch the idea, even if it was over zoom.

“I finally came up with the third body wash scent. Vanilla, with a hint of coffee and then a little bit of sandalwood to keep it professional and put together.”

He’d had to whisper it - Indy was asleep in her room, the product of a good post study-session back rub that had lulled her into a much-needed nap. The team loved it, thought it complimented the other two scents they’d been testing well. Ethan was hesitant, but he kept his mouth shut and brainstormed a backup if needed.

Grayson was thankful for the gesture, even when he’d told him that he’d started planning it as early as he had. But he wasn’t willing to give it up, and he made it very clear in their first meeting back that Polis was a permanent scent. It felt like a tiny piece of her that he could hold onto. Still, as he stood there and held the bottle up to his nose, it wasn’t the same. As pitiful as it made him feel, he tried closing his eyes, tried to imagine she was there with him, standing in front of him, giggling like she always did when they showered together.

He couldn’t do it justice. Couldn’t feel the warmth of her skin against his, couldn’t smell her shampoo or watch her try to bend over and shave her legs in her small apartment shower without bumping into him. He’d held her hips to help her keep her balance, listened to her laugh and talk about casual intimacy, heard the way it echoed off the tiles and became his favorite sound in the entire world.

His tears mixed with the water, his pain palpable as he started to quiver just barely, the memory enough to break down the paper thin wall he’d managed to drag back up to protect himself. When his knees shook he gave up and sunk to the ground, green tiles of the bench seat icy against his back as he buried his face in his hands. He’d never felt weaker in his life, and he wished he was ten again, so his dad could wrap his strong arm around his shoulder and tell him that everything would be alright.

He went for the next best thing once he managed to get enough energy to get up and turn the water off. A few swipes of his towel over his body and hair, then he pulled his boxers on and put on his robe, walking straight out of his room and down the hall.

Ethan’s door was open, but he wasn’t in his bed like Gray expected. He was at his desk instead, a look of stress on his face that Grayson was all too familiar with. A pang of guilt resonated in him when he realized what his brother was doing - picking up all the slack that he was leaving in his misery.

He hadn’t said a word about it though, and that made it worse.

It took Ethan a moment to realize his brother was there, but as soon as he did he turned his desk chair, giving him his full attention.

“Hey.”

Grayson didn’t answer.

“You okay?” Ethan tried again. Grayson’s throat burned, and he shook his head, sitting on the end of the bed. He’d never been able to hide from Ethan, and luckily, he never really had to. Because Ethan was the type of brother to act tough when he needed to, but soften up at the smallest things. Which was why Grayson wasn’t surprised to see his brother rise up out of his chair, coming to sit next to him. The bed sunk down a bit with his weight, and Grayson let himself press up against his brother. The air felt heavy while he waited.

“You’re good. Just let it out.” Ethan’s voice was quiet, and he leaned his cheek against his brother’s head and felt him go to pieces. It was the hardest Grayson had cried since the airport, and every sniffle made his head pound but he couldn’t pull himself together. Those were the kind of moments where he wondered how people survived without twin brothers. He felt safe there with Ethan - if everything else fell apart, at least he’d have him. There were a million things he could say, but he already knew what the answers would be. Ethan would tell him that he’d find someone else some day, and that Indy would heal and that he shouldn’t feel guilty for doing what he did. He also knew that Ethan would say all of it even if he didn’t believe it, because their pain was shared.

Grayson cried himself out again after an hour or so, his sinuses pounding behind his eyes as the headache settled in.

Ethan stayed still - he knew better than to leave him. It wasn’t until Grayson finally wiped at his eyes that his brother relaxed a bit, watched him stand up and run his hands over his face. It felt colder without Ethan right next to him, but he knew he needed to sleep.

“Try to get some sleep,” Ethan echoed his thoughts. “We need to record the pod tonight if you can.”

“Okay. I can help with the emails, I know we probably have a shit ton.”

Ethan was already shaking his head before he finished.

“Just get some sleep, okay?”

Grayson nodded and gave him the best smile he could manage before he went back into his room, climbing back into the safety of his covers with his phone in his hand, just in case she called.

Indy’s pillow was wet. It was mainly from her hair soaking into the pillowcase - she didn’t have the energy to dry it after her shower. But she’d also made a terrible mistake. One scroll through the app store and a quick log in and she was back onto instagram, ignoring the now thousands of follow requests she had in her notifications. It only took one click to her explore page and her tears were adding to the moisture below her cheek.

He had on his Cudi hoodie, the yellow one. She wished she’d been there to tell him not to wear it. It was too bright, a target for the cameras that seemed to find him. The first ones she saw stung. They were only of his back, taken from far enough away that she could pretend it was someone else. But she knew the way he sat, with his arms over his knees.

The next ones hurt, because she could see his face. He was walking, and she knew him well enough to know he’d realized what was happening and tried to leave, just from his posture, the way he slumped while walking. His eyes were red, those dark circles that she’d ran her fingers over so many times worse than she’d ever seen them. Ever since he’d left, she’d wanted to know how he felt. If he missed her at all, if he was as miserable as she seemed to be every minute of every day.

It hurt worse to get her answer than it did to wonder. She’d hoped he was upset, but suddenly all she wanted to do was hold him, tell him it was okay, that she was okay even though she wasn’t. It was impossible not to scroll, looking for anything new, any hints as to what he had been up to since he’d gotten off that plane.

She had never asked for a front row seat to his life, but she’d take it if it was the only glimpse of him that she could get. It made her feel pathetic, but she didn’t care enough to fight it.

Eventually, she found herself scrolling his page. She couldn’t tell how she got there, but she couldn’t seem to leave it either. So she just scrolled, averting her eyes from any comments, and pretending, just for a moment, that everything was back to the way it was. That he was just busy recording a podcast, or that he’d be sprawled out on her couch when she went out to the living room.

She held onto it until she walked out of her room, knowing she needed to eat even though she didn’t want to. She kept her eyes off the couch, moving to her cabinets that were barren apart from a few avocados that were rotten. With a sigh she threw them in the trash that was close to overflowing, opting instead for the last box of mac and cheese she had left.

Indy was thankful for muscle memory, her mind wandering off to better days where her kitchen wasn’t so quiet as she cooked the pasta she really didn’t want and took it back to her room, curling up under her covers as she ate.

Grayson had two empty boxes of vegan mac and cheese in front of him, one of which obviously had an ‘E’ scribbled on it that he’d ignored when he made them. He shoveled the noodles into his mouth, ignoring the way they burnt his tongue just barely. Ethan walked in and saw the boxes, opened his mouth and shut it again.

“S’pod setup?” Grayson said around a mouthful.

“Yeah, I set up the pod, we’re good whenever you’re ready.”

“Gimminute.”

Ethan just chuckled and shook his head, happy to at least see his brother eating even if he was shoveling it down like he hadn’t seen food before. He waited, seeing that Gray was done within the next two minutes, sitting his bowl in the sink and stretching his arms out. He looked tired, but Ethan hoped the pod camera was far enough away from them to make the dark circles subtle enough.

“Do you want some of my old concealer stuff? For under your eyes?”

Grayson hesitated for a moment, picking at his nails. “You still have it?”

“Yeah, hang on.” Ethan ran to his bathroom, snagged the compact from his bottom drawer and brought it to the kitchen. “Come over here, you’re supposed to do it in natural light.”

He held it out for Grayson, who just looked up at him.

“I don’t know how the fuck to do it, you do it.”

“Do I look like a makeup artist to you?” Ethan asked, and when Grayson stayed quiet, he sighed and flipped the compact open, swiping his finger through the semi-creamy substance and moving to pat it on his brother, frowning when it was more difficult than he thought it would be. “Look up you fuck, I gotta blend it.”

Grayson just rolled his eyes but did as he was told, sitting still until E said he was finished and led the way to the studio. They got settled in their chairs, double checking the camera angles. Ethan cleared his throat, waiting until his brother looked at him.

“Are we… do you want to mention anything about…”

Grayson waited. He wondered if his brother was really going to be dumb enough to ask.

“Are we talking about the pictures, yes or no.”

“What the fuck do you think the answer to that is,” Gray grumbled.

“I’m just saying, if you mention it you can say what you want about it, get your own voice out there. Whatever you say, I’ll go along with it.”

“Great.”

Grayson took a deep breath, gave Ethan a look that read as an apology, and clicked the button to start recording. He stayed fairly quiet the first few minutes of the recording, waiting to jump into a conversation that didn’t make his throat tight. The podcast was his favorite place, because he could let himself actually speak, say what he wanted to say without worrying.

It came back to bite him in the ass 45 minutes into the episode, when his guard was down and he had finally lost himself the way he did when he worked. They were talking about birds, and how they had a bad, unjustified rep.

“I mean, Gizmo can be an asshole sometimes, but she’s only an asshole when people are like, scared of her,” Ethan mused.

“Right! She gets all shy when I come home after a while, but when Dee came in the house the first time she was freaking out, just from hearing her and I swear, every time after that Giz just like, screamed every single time she was even in the house.”

“Gray-”

“No seriously! You remember how loud she got? Fuck, remember that time she went down to help mom with dessert and Giz was out and she cried?”

“Grayson.”

“What? Did I peak the mic?”

Ethan’s eyes were sad. “You… you said her name.”

“Huh?”

“Indiana. You said Dee, when you were telling that story.”

He swallowed hard. “Oh. Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” He could see him spiraling, and he tried to reel him back in. “You’re okay. We can just cut it, and start again with a story about Gizmo.”

“Yeah uh… just give me a second.”

“Sure. Whatever you need.”

“Just, uh, say what you said again before,” Grayson murmured, shaking his head to try and clear it. But it was too late - he was so consumed by what his mind had brought back to the surface that he could barely hear Ethan repeat his words.

“Yeah-” Grayson came in a moment late. “Giz is a special one.”

Ethan waited for him to continue, but jumped in when he didn’t. “She gets shy when you haven’t been home in a while and you show up. That’s the thing about animals dude, like people think about cats and dogs and they can recognize their emotions, but with stuff like birds and cows and shit, people just don’t think about them that way, and it fucking sucks. They have feelings too! Gizmo’s fucking sassy bro, she will let you know how she’s feeling, especially if she’s pissed. Bro, we should have Giz on the pod, do you think she’d talk? She can whistle, we could show off her tricks.”

“You can’t put a bird on a plane,” Grayson mumbled. His eyes were fixed down on the blue center of the table, and he was fidgeting with his sleeves.

“Yeah, but we can put the mics in our suitcases and just record at home.”

Ethan realized it a moment too late. He wanted to snatch his words out of the air, scratch them from the tape when he saw the way Grayson’s eyes met his, saw the gloss near his waterline.

“Yeah - uh - um,” Grayson tried to save it, and then he covered his mouth, silencing the squeak that turned into a sob. He pretended it was a cough, bringing his hand up and running his fingers over his forehead, shielding his eyes from the camera.

“I uh, I miss home a lot more this time than I usually do,” he said, his voice froggy with the tightness of his throat. Ethan couldn’t say anything. There was nothing to say as he watched his brother fight and lose in his battle to keep his composure, covering his mouth as he cried, knuckles brushing up against the mic.

“Fuck, sorry, I’m sorry E.”

“It’s okay, hey, it’s okay.” Ethan was up so fast he forgot to take off his headphones. They fell back into the chair when they pulled off his ears as he moved to his brother, pulling him up into a hug. “We can finish it later, we’ll just cut to an ad or something. It’s okay.”

“Sorry.”

“Shh. It’s fine bro, it’s fine. C’mon, let’s go get some air.”

Air wasn’t what they found.

Instead, they found Eden, standing against the counter with her arms crossed in a way that had Ethan’s blood running cold. He thought the sight of Grayson practically curled in on himself might have softened her up, but she stood her ground until both of the twins were looking at her.

Grayson knew that she knew, and she only confirmed it when she spoke.

“What. The fuck. Is wrong with you.”

Back in New York, Indy’s phone was ringing. Or at least, she thought it was. But when she unlocked it and was blinded by the light, it was just her lockscreen, Grayson smiling at her with 3:04 written across the top. Judging by the darkness, she knew she hadn’t slept the afternoon away, but the buzzing continued until she finally climbed out of bed and realized it was the intercom system - the front desk calling her through the small phone on her wall that hardly ever rang. She pulled it off the receiver and held it up to her ear.

“Hello?”

“Hi Ms. Cross, there’s a gentleman here to see you.”

Her heart skipped, and she clutched the phone with both her hands.

“Who?”

There was a beat of silence, and Indy could vaguely hear her ask him for a name.

“His name is Devin.”

She sucked in a breath, letting her head and her hopes fall.

“Send him up.”

It took her a moment to process her grief before the panic set in. If Devin was showing up unannounced, something bad must have happened. She swung her door open, chewing on her nails as she stood in the doorway, waiting for him to appear. He came out of the elevator with a small duffle slung over his shoulder and a cautious smile that had her ready to cry.

“Dev, what the hell are you doing here? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he said.

“Charlie?”

“Also fine. We’re fine.”

She caught her breath, and then she was frowning. “If everything is fine, why the fuck are you here at 3am?”

“Because you haven’t answered your sister’s calls in a week, and she’s worried sick about you.”

Guilt panged in her stomach - she hadn’t meant to ignore her. In all honesty, she’d ignored everyone without realizing it.

“I- sorry, I didn’t mean to. Just slipped my mind. Is she here too?”

“She’s got a wedding to shoot this weekend, and we only had one ticket anyways. Flight got delayed, tried to find a hotel for the night so I could wait until later this morning but I couldn’t find one so you’re stuck with me. Sorry,” he teased, reaching out to hold onto her shoulder. There was no malice in his voice, and Indy was grateful. “Let’s go inside.”

He didn’t ask for it, but she made him a coffee anyways alongside her own. She was tired, her eyes burning, but it wasn’t anything new from the last few weeks. She fought it, pulling one of the few sweatshirts Grayson had left at her place over her head before she sat on the couch, waiting.

Devin was quiet, tapping his fingers against his mug, out of his element.

“Dev.”

“Hmm?”

“You didn’t fly to New York to drink coffee with me. Talk.”

He sighed, sitting his mug down on the coffee table and turning towards her.

“Inds, we’re worried about you.”

Indy scoffed, a short, automatic sound.

“I’m fine.”

“No, you aren’t. You really, really aren’t. You’re running yourself into the ground for no good reason.”

“I’m trying to pay rent,” she countered, but even she knew it wasn’t true.

“Your hospital job pays more than rent. Jet’s is just because you’re scared to let your mind rest.”

Indy didn’t have an answer, so she sipped her coffee instead, cursing herself for telling Charlie everything in a moment of weakness. The silence was loud, and Devin sighed to break it after far too long.

“Have you talked to him? Since?”

Her throat was tight. “No.”

Devin wrung his hands together. “You do know it was fucked up what he did, right?”

“Dev-”

“I’m just making sure you know that. You can still make your own decision on however you wanna navigate it in the future, but you have to acknowledge that what he did was a new level of shitty. And he’s a good guy, I really do think he is, but he fucked you over, and you’re my family. And I protect my family. So I just need you to know that you didn’t deserve what he did to you, and he fucked up. Big time.”

“Right.”

“Okay, good.”

She let him believe it, though she’d only said it to appease him. She wondered if he would feel differently, if he had seen. If he had felt, the way that Grayson had shook in her arms, the way his sobs seemed to be ripping him apart every moment that he was hurting her. She wanted to pull up her phone, show him the pictures from the beach, show him that he was hurting too, that he didn’t want to hurt her. She wanted to prove it to him.

“When does your semester start?” He asked, pulling her mind off of it. She swallowed hard, then took another drink of coffee.

Indiana had spent three days in self pity when she got back from the airport. She let the misery have her fully - didn’t change her clothes, barely ate, hardly left her bedroom. And then, after that, she picked herself up and got to work. She applied for her tech job and called Patrick to see if she could get the schedules to align, and more importantly, she’d started to run numbers.

Medical school. Just the application fees alone were going to hit her budget hard, so much so that she reduced it down to two. JCU, and UCLA.

Her applications had gotten accepted three days prior, along with an email about a scholarship she was eligible for at UCLA that made it comparable to JCU’s tuition. But the money wasn’t the issue, and when it was time to accept, she knew that UCLA wouldn’t hold her spot forever.

She’d taken a deep breath, and emailed the registrar.

“I deferred.”

She was embarrassed to say it outloud, and for some reason it was the brick of the dam that fell, and her tears began to flow. She felt Devin’s hand on her shoulder before he spoke.

“Good.”

She hadn’t expected him to be mean - in fact, the meanest thing she’d ever heard him say was what he’d just said about Grayson. But it still shocked her enough to have her frowning.

“Good?”

“Indy. Do you realize how long you’ve been a student? Do you know who you are outside of being one?”

“I-”

“You’re the smartest person I know, and I love you, but I think you need to take a step back and really look at what you’re doing. Take a semester, fuck, take a year. Live. Breathe. You’re already ahead, and you’ll still be ahead.”

“I’m not worried about being ahead, Dev,” she whispered, running her hands over her face.

“Then what are you worried about?” There was a sincerness in his voice, and a gentleness in the way he held her hand that made her cry even harder.

“I just don’t know what the fuck to do anymore,” she blubbered, grateful when he pulled her over to his chest in a hug. He let her cry it out for a while, waiting until she was calm enough to hear him.

“I don’t have the answer to that, but I say, ask yourself what you really want the rest of your life to look like, and then do whatever you have to to get there. If it’s being a doctor, great. If it’s not, great. Just as long as it’s what you want.”

She took a shaky breath in, and blew it out through her lips, simply giving him a nod.

The problem was, she knew exactly what she wanted - and he was off in Los Angeles, cowering behind his brother.

“Baby, woah, hey, take it easy,” Ethan cautioned, side stepping into the war path she’d outlined, headed straight for Grayson. Her eyes were fire when she looked at her boyfriend and raised an eyebrow.

“He’s having a rough night, just take it easy,” he added.

He stoked the flames.

“You know who else is probably having a rough fucking night? Indiana. And we are gonna talk later-” she poked a finger into Ethan’s chest - “but right now, I’m not talking to you so I suggest you get out of my way.”

There was a bite in her tone that had Ethan rocking back on his heels, questioning just how far his duties as protective brother would go. He breathed out a sigh when he felt Grayson’s hand on his shoulder.

“It’s fine E.”

He’d never admit it, but Grayson had been waiting. Ever since he pulled away on New Year’s, he had waited for the punishment. The anger, the disbelief, the spite that he thought would arise in Indiana at the realization of what he’d done.

It wasn’t until he got off the plane and into his room that he realized his true punishment would be the guilt, and the grief, and the realization that he’d pushed away the only future he’d ever truly known he wanted.

The anger was a welcomed change.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? What the fuck, Grayson.”

“I know.”

“I don’t say a lot of shit about a lot of shit, but whoever you decide to be with could possibly end up as part of my family, forever, so fuck me if I’m invested, and I think I deserve an explanation on why I just got a call from Charlie to see if I’d talked to Indy, cause she’s ‘really going through it’.”

“I didn’t want to hurt her.” His eyes turned glossy, and Ethan stood up straighter.

“The fuck you didn’t,” she scoffed, running her hand through her hair to push her curls out of her face. “You realize how badly you fucked up, right? Right?”

“Yes.”

“And that you broke her heart right? Probably absolutely fucking destroyed her.”

“Eden-” Ethan spoke up.

“Yes,” Grayson answered, his chest tight. He wrapped his arms around himself, willed them to hold him together. It felt different, to have someone say it to him so directly, to confirm what he had done.

“Then why? Just… why?”

“Long distance wouldn’t have worked, and I didn’t want -”

“Oh bullshit. No one would have tried harder than Indiana to make that work, you fucking know that.”

“She shouldn’t have to deal with that, with me being so far away -”

“God you fucking self-sacrificial fuck!” She yelled. “She loved you, you moron, and when you love someone, you give! You hit a crossroads, you sit down and have a fucking conversation, and you fucking give! That’s what a fucking real relationship looks like, not you deciding that you don’t deserve to be loved and running in the other fucking direction!” Her face was red when she stopped to catch her breath. Ethan looked just as shocked at the outburst as his brother. Her mind seemed to catch up to her ears, and she backtracked.

“Sorry, fuck, that was -”

“No, you're right. You’re right. Everything you said was fucking right,” Grayson didn’t even try to hide his tears. He blubbered into his hands, ugly choking sobs that he wasn’t sure how he even produced. Ethan was at his side immediately, arm wrapped around his shoulders.

“What do I do?” He asked, voice muffled by his hands until he finally raised his head and looked at Eden with pleading eyes, waiting for an answer she was reluctant to give.

“You let her live. Don’t text her, don’t call her. If she calls, you don’t answer. When you go home, you don’t see her. You let her let go, and move on.”

All he could do was nod, and lean into his brother.

Indy leaned against the wall. It was cold and unrelenting against her shoulder, but it held her up better than her own legs would. She’d dropped Devin off at the airport that afternoon, and found herself back on the ped’s floor, waiting.

Valentina spotted her first from the nurses station, and the way she held her clipboard made it look like a weapon.

“My eyes better be deceiving me, cause’ I know that is not Indiana Cross standing in my hallway on her day off.”

Indy found it in her to laugh dryly. “Relax Val, I’m here to see Beks. Haven’t gotten to visit her off the clock for a while.”

Valentina still gave her signature disapproving stare, but she gave it up with a sigh. “Well, her family is visiting too. Mom and Dad, if you wanna say hi.”

It had been a long time since she’d seen Mr. and Mrs. Newcomb. They were lovely people, and they truly did come see her as often as they could. But they also worked two jobs a piece to try to foot the medical bills, which meant often was scarce.

Indy had never seen them in the same room before, and her stomach tightened. She was hesitant to go to Bekah’s room, scared to interrupt, but when she peaked her head around her doorway, she saw the couple sitting on the couch in the room quietly.

Mrs. Newcomb spotted her, eyes brightening as she waved her inside.

“Come in, come in!”

Indy was still hesitant as she walked inside, eyes darting over to a sleeping Bekah. She was curled up under her halloween blanket, brows furrowed down and skin pale.

“Hi Indiana, how are you sweet girl?” Mrs. Newcomb asked.

“I’m good, I’m sorry to interrupt, I just thought I might stop by and check on her but I don’t want to intrude.”

“No, no you’re fine! She was actually asking about you just before she went to sleep, you and Earring, whoever that is. Hang on.”

Indy watched as she moved over to the edge of her daughter’s bed, running her thumb along her cheek until she started to stir.

“Sweetheart, Indiana is here to see you. Can you open your eyes for me?”

Bekah whined, but pulled her eyes open, smiling slightly when Indiana moved into her view.

“Hey punk,” Indy said, crouching down so she could get to her level.

“Hey,” she whispered, voice hoarse. On instinct, Indy reached out to fix her head wrap, making Bekah’s mother smile. “What time is it?”

“6:55,” Indy answered.

“Mmm. Meds coming soon,” she mumbled. “Where’s Earrings? He doesn’t like needles, don’t let him see the needles.”

“No needles baby,” Mrs. Newcomb said. “Just some to make you feel better. You rest now.”

“Earrings,” she said again, and Indy could tell she was asking.

“He’ll be here to see you soon,” Indy lied, rubbing over her wrap like she would her hair if it was still there.

It didn’t click for Indiana until 7 rolled around, and Jennifer came in with a cup of pills instead of an IV pole.

Radiation and chemo don’t come in pills, Indy knew that much.

Mrs. Newcomb watched the realization come across her face, and she gave her a sympathetic smile.

“She’s… she didn’t get her meds.”

“Indiana baby, it’s what she wants. The new round didn’t work, the stem cells failed. It’s time to let her rest. We’ll keep her comfortable, the doctor says it’ll probably be a few weeks, maybe a month.”

Indy’s throat burned, and her breathing quickened, chest rising much too fast. She couldn’t say goodbye to anyone - it took all her focus to make it out of the building, running down the stairs and across the lobby before she was dry heaving in the bushes, the sight of Bekah’s frail body in her bed appearing every time she closed her eyes.

It wasn’t a conscious decision. More of an instinct, really, that drove her to pull her phone out of her pocket and pull him up and call.

In LA, Grayson’s phone buzzed against his nightstand. A new picture of Indiana popped up - her contact photo that he’d taken one day in Jersey. With a knot in his throat and Eden’s voice in his ears, he reached over and turned it off before rolling away and letting his tears soak into the pillowcase.

#mixtape #SO SORRY #im prepared for the yelling again #grayson dolan #grayson dolan fanfiction

74 notes · View notes

ri-ahhh · 4 years

Note

Okay, but with Grayson complaining about being lonely and wanting a girlfriend I CANT HELP but to think about how horny he probably is on top of that. Like- its been on my mind for days, so can you PLEASE write something about gray meeting a bitch, like through friend or something, and realizing he likes her and then having these dirty thoughts about her, and like he doesn't want to but he just cant help it... I will die and love you forever, you're writing is my absouloute favortie.

Ur so sweet babe haha thank you😊 hope this is along the lines of what you wanted.

Getting his dick wet has never been a problem for Grayson Dolan; not since receiving his first sloppy, inexperienced blowjob when he was on tour at the tender age of 16. There’s been a steady flow of girls in and out of his life ever since, fulfilling both his needs sexually and the fleeting desire for noncommittal intimacy. And that’s how he likes it for the longest time. Easy and no-strings-attached.

But he’s older now, and even though quarantine hadn’t stopped him from hitting up his favorite one or two booty calls every now and then, he feels empty in a way that’s becoming all-too familiar. It’s not a new feeling, but every time he leaves their homes (because that’s his number one rule — hookups stay out of his bed), there’s a longing that wasn’t satisfied and that’s becoming more and more apparent to him.

So he stops fucking around — literally. He believes in the power of the mind and manifestation almost to a fault, and considers that maybe he’s letting casual hookups interfere with what he really wants: companionship.

It seems like a breeze at first. Grayson swears he feels lighter, clearer in the head, more focused on what he wants out of his life. He puts his mind to being the best version of himself and hoping that it’s enough to attract the same kind of person that he can put all of his love and effort into in return.

As months roll on, however, he realizes that sometimes the universe just doesn’t listen right away. And for the first time in his life, Grayson discovers the monotony and reality of what it’s like for the ‘regular’ guys out there, whose only sexual pleasure comes from their own hand and the porn category of choice for the night. He was used to that as a filler, for sure, but not as his one and only outlet.

Plain and simple, he’s horny. All the time. Which makes him grumpy, and irritable, and frustrated with both himself and everything around him. So when Ethan tells him in passing that his girlfriend is flying in from New York with her friend to visit, it just makes him grunt. The fact that his brother is in such a happy and healthy relationship himself is a point of contention for Grayson in his head. He’s thrilled for Ethan, but he can’t help but dwell on the creeping jealousy in his chest. Here he is, starved for both intimacy and sex now, and Ethan will get served both of those the following night in excess while Grayson lies in his bed alone.

The next night, they’re all having dinner at the kitchen table — all four of them, including her. The friend. The friend that Ethan had mentioned would be coming but that Grayson had so brusquely ignored. The friend that had his eyebrows raised the second she walked shyly through his front door, drawn in immediately by her beauty.

The friend he can’t keep his eyes off of now as she goes to town on the roasted sweet potatoes and black bean burgers he had made himself. She’s quiet but witty and has a cute laugh that makes his heart flutter a little in a way he hasn’t experienced in a long time.

He feels a nudge against his ribs, and startles when he jerks to the side to see Ethan staring at him pointedly with a knowing little smile on his lips.

“You’ve got ketchup on your shirt, bro,” he says, nodding to the blob of red on Grayson’s white shirt that had dropped from the forkful of sweet potatoes, which had only made it halfway to his mouth as he listened to her talk.

“Shit,” he mumbles embarrassedly, flushing a color near the tomato-red that’s now stained his shirt. Of course, the first time he’s feeling real feelings around a beautiful girl, he has to revert to awkward, clumsy Grayson rather smooth, relaxed Grayson.

He starts to scrub up the mess with his napkin, but she reaches out from her seat across the table from him and grabs his wrist in her petite hand. “Oop, wait! Dab, don’t swipe, or you’ll make it worse. I know how to get that out as long as it’s not smeared around into the fabric.”

Grayson swallows, his arm flaring with goosebumps at her gentle but insistent touch, but tries to keep his cool. She’s grinning at him amusedly, then sits back in her seat when Grayson follows her instructions.

“I thought ketchup was one of those things that you’re just kinda fucked if you get it on your clothes, Ethan says, filling the silence left by his brother.

She shakes her head. “Nope. Peroxide will get it right out, especially if you wash it after. Do you have any?”

Ethan cocks a brow and looks at Grayson, hoping he’ll use the opportunity to speak to her. Thankfully, he does, even if it is lacking a little bit of gracefulness. “Huh, peroxide? Oh... uh, yeah, I — yeah, in my bathroom.”

“I’ll help you when we’re all done, if you want,” she offers before taking a modest bite of her burger.

Grayson nods, and can’t help but watch the way she sucks a bit of barbecue sauce off her thumb once she swallows. His heart picks up and he has to shift in his seat a little when she winks at him, his pants tightening under the table. Damn it. He’s been trying to avoid that reaction and those thoughts, determined to do this right.

He fixes a smile to his lips, and hopes his face isn’t giving him away. “Yeah, that’d be great.”

Everyone helps clean up the table and dishes, and Grayson leads her into his room while they leave the other two to have some alone time. He prays that he made his bed that morning and that there’s no dirty underwear on the floor or used tissues on the nightstand.

Luckily, the floor is relatively clear, and the bed is made, if haphazardly so. She follows him into the en-suite bathroom and watches him dig under the cabinet in the first aid bucket he has down there.

She’s wearing jean shorts and a loose-knit sweater, and when Grayson starts to stand back up he takes a moment to appreciate the tone in the muscles of her legs and the flashes of skin he can see through her top, hoping he isn’t being too obvious.

She takes the brown bottle from him and tugs on the hem of his shirt. “It’ll be easier if you take this off.”

Grayson nods, and can’t help the laugh that escapes him when she turns her back to him. “What are you doing?”

“Giving you your modesty! I don’t know you, for all I know you might be super insecure.”

“At the risk of sounding like a total douche, I promise I’m not,” he answers, reaching behind his neck to tug the collar up and over his head. “Here you go.”

She turns back around, and Grayson doesn’t miss the way her eyes travel over his sculpted torso. He can’t help but smirk a little, thrilled at the cute blush that tinges her cheeks when she meets his eyes and realizes she’s been caught.

He hasn’t had a woman look at him like that in months, however, and he’s grateful when she tells him, “This will need to go in the laundry tonight if you want to make sure the stain comes out, so you’ll need another shirt anyways.”

It gives him an out to duck into his closet, taking a moment to collect himself before grabbing the first T-shirt his hand touches and slipping it over his head.

“Cold water first,” she informs, smiling at him through the mirror when he re-emerges as she leans over the sink with the water running. She shuts off the water and squeeze out the excess, then takes the peroxide and pours some onto the stain.

“Woah,” Grayson says, eyebrows raised in surprise at the fizzing bubbles visibly picking up the bright red from the fibers of his shirt. “Where did you learn this trick?”

“I work in the toddler room at a daycare. We keep this stuff on sight and scene to avoid 20 outfit changes a day on a few two year-olds. I’m sure you can imagine the amount of ketchup and blood stains a toddler procures on the daily.”

Grayson chuckles. He feels himself growing more fond of her by the second. “You like kids?”

“I love them,” she replies with a grin. “Working in childcare is pretty rough, but it’s been a great college job. Lots of experience for my degree. And, you know, good practice for the future one day.”

If he hadn’t been sold by now, that does it. Beautiful, smart, and good with kids?

He takes a moment to assess himself and his thoughts. He doesn’t think he’s letting his dick lead him right now, even if he does want her that way. He’s just as attracted to her mind as he is the curves of her body and the features of her pretty face, and finds himself wanting to talk to her for hours on end.

He doesn’t realize there’s a heated silence, both of them standing there staring at each other, until she clears her throat and holds up his shirt. Grayson glances down at it to see just a faint brown rim around what use to be a bright red mark. “All done.”

“Thank you,” he says, taking it from her and tossing it in his laundry basket. “Come on, hopefully we don’t walk into something we can’t unsee.”

“You make a pretty good meat shield,” she says jokingly, following close behind him. “All big and broad. I can just hide behind you and keep my eyes unscarred.”

Grayson laughs loudly, his ego swelling, and he has to resist the urge to take her hand in his. That would be too much. Right?

Thankfully, the couple is just cuddling innocently on the loveseat when they enter the living room.

“Movie?” Ethan asks when the two of them settle on the couch, a respectful and calculated distance between them — not too close and not too far.

“Sure.”

They’re all in a fun and lighthearted mood tonight, so they settle on Moana. Grayson wants nothing more than to throw his arm around the beautiful girl next to him, who sings along playfully to the songs she knows, her enthusiastic movements shuffling her closer to him. He doesn’t know if it’s intentional, but he doesn’t really care; her presence in both body and spirit feels good to him.

Ethan’s girlfriend only makes it about halfway through the movie before she’s passed out, tired from the long flight earlier that day. He looks down at her fondly and chuckles when he sees her nuzzled sound asleep against his chest.

“I’m gonna take her to bed,” he announces quietly before standing with her in his arms. “Goodnight, guys.”

They both murmur back “goodnight” and watch Ethan disappear down the hall. The movie plays on for a couple of minutes, before she’s turning to him and making small talk. Which turns into broader conversation about bigger things. Which leads to them settling so close that their knees touch. She finds an excuse to pick an invisible fleck of something off his hand, which turns into their fingers playing with each other’s teasingly.

Which turns to Grayson checking his watch in a quiet but not unpleasant lull, and muttering, “Oh, shit,” in surprise.

She checks her phone lying on the couch cushion behind her. The time shines back at her 1:27 AM.

“Damn, when did it get so late?” she wonders aloud, looking at him amusedly.

Grayson shakes his head. “Time flies,” he says. Whether it’s the late hour, or him getting his mojo back, or just the fact that he’s so naturally comfortable with her, he suddenly feels bold enough to reach out and tuck a piece of hair behind her ear. “Are you tired?”

She blushes and bites her lip, allowing him to keep his warm palm pressed to her neck while his thumb strokes the ridge of her jaw gently.

“Not really,” she answers, scooting that much closer to him. “Not ready to go to my bed, anyways.”

She’s referring to the guest room she’s already settled her things into. Grayson smiles. Rules be damned, he thinks, until he realizes in the next moment that there’s no way this amazing girl is going to be just a hookup. There’s no rule to be broken.

“Why don’t you come to mine, then?”

#dolan twins #grayson dolan #ethan dolan #dolan twins fic #grayson dolan fic #blurb #g blurb

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