#lazy daze in California

[bigmeatpete69420]

Oreo and I are having a great Sunday and we hope you are too <3

#have a great day #my cat #my cat<3 #my cat is adorable #my cat is cute #lazy daze in California #language arts crew #bigmeatpeteplaylist #silky smooth music #hip hop #rap #black and white cat #SoundCloud #Spotify

[spidermans-l-o-v-e-r]

Orange Blossoms

Pairing: Buck x Y/N

Word Count: mmmmm I forgot to check and I’m lazy

Notes: Lets see if I actually write this!! I’m literally in the middle of Strawberries and Cream rn, it’s 5/15/24 (now) and I’m just…. Testing the waters with releasing the first chapter P.S I DID NOT EDIT THIS BEFORE POSTING I HATE MYSELF IM DOING IT RN

Chapter 1: Eddie is a Traitor

It was just supposed to be a normal Thursday. Go to work, fight some fires, harass Eddie, go home. Do it all over again the next day. That’s how it was every day and he liked it. Especially the people he worked with, that was his family. 

He’s putting on a different work shirt when he looks up, a girl is standing there with her back to him holding a helmet in her hands. It’s sleek and pink. It’s got the most adorable cat ears on it too. He’s gotta take another look at it. As he walks she turns around, her hair flying over her shoulder. 

It’s like he can hear wedding bells going off in his brain. He shortcircuits immediately as she starts walking towards him. He can hear the soft thud of her shoes, he’s surprised he thought angels had wings. She smiles pleasantly at him, the California sun creating a little halo behind her. Or he’s having a stroke he can’t tell. 

“Hi I’m-” He sticks his hand out and Bobby suddenly steps in front of him 

“No, you aren’t” 

He knew that look. “Come on honey, I’ll introduce you to the others” you waved shyly at Buck as Bobby turned you around by your shoulders and steered you upstairs

Buck stood there, his hand still out as he watched Bobby march you up to Hen and Chimney. You giggled a little at the top of the stairs when you saw him still staring, a dumb look on his face

“You good?” Eddie gave him a high five as he walked by and Buck blinked slowly 

“I think I’m in love” 

Eddie snorted and bumped his side, pushing him out of the way so he could get to his locker 

“Isn’t that like the fourth time this month you’ve said that? Who was it this time” 

He melted on the spot, sighing dreamily and tilting his head to the side 

“It’s…”

Eddie looked at him expectantly 

“It’s uh…”

Eddie put his head against his locker, snickering into the metal 

“You don’t remember?”

“I don’t think she said. I don’t think she had the chance” 

“Why wouldn’t she have had the chance?” 

“Bobby took her upstairs” 

Eddie turned to look at him again. “Are you talking about a girl, about this tall” he holds his hand up midway to his chest “curly pink hair? Skin tanned to the gods” 

“That’s my angel”

“Dude. That’s Athena’s niece” 

It’s like he gets hit by a train and his entire world comes crashing down and really what even was the point in living anymore if he couldn’t have you? He might as well do a sweet flip off a cliff. At least he could go out in a cool way 

“You do know how to backflip,” Eddie says as he shuts his locker 

“Huh?” Buck looks at him now, a little dazed. A weird look on his face

“You were spiraling right? Because you think your life is over now” 

“My life is over now!” 

“No, it’s not.” He takes him by the arm and jogs upstairs, tapping the railing when they get up there. It catches your attention and you turn your head, your hands clasped sweetly in front of you.

Honestly, everything about you was sweet. From your soft pink hair, down to the white platform boots you had on. He liked the purple plaid skirt you had on. With a little purple beret and the matching purple cardigan. You looked like a doll, a very sweet, very cute, doll. God, you were too sweet for him 

“Oh my god. Evan!” His name is shouted at him and he flinches back. Your hand is out towards him, and Eddie is standing behind you with his hands on your shoulders. Bobby has his arms crossed over his chest and Hen and Chim are looking at each other 

“I said this is Y/N” Eddie sounds stressed and that makes Buck blush. He’d gotten lost in you all over again. 

“Oh-oh. Uh Hi I’m, Bevan- no shit Barkley no-no god. Buck. I’m- my name is Evan I- I go by Buck. Hi.”

You’re giggling as he stumbles over his words and god he wishes you wouldn’t do that, it just sounds so cute and you’re making him flustered. Fuck usually he’s so smooth and flirty, what the hell gives??

“Hi Evan” You smile up at him and he swears he’s never seen anything or anyone so pretty 

“You have pretty teeth,” He says dreamily as he’s shaking your hand. Eddie curses under his breath and you laugh, still shaking his hand 

“T-thank you? Um. I brush twice a day!” 

“Oh it shows!! it- it shows. You know that you uh-you take care of yourself and I mean- I could have said I liked your nail polish cause I do!!…it matches your clothes but no! No… I had to- I had to say your teeth” 

You cover your mouth, trying to keep from laughing any harder. He’s so flustered and his cheeks are so pink and you feel a little bad. And he’s literally still shaking your hand. Eddie pulls your hand from his and slaps Buck’s down, giving him a “wtf” look over your head. Buck clears his throat and shoves his hands in his pockets 

“Well! I gotta go fill the truck! You know gotta make it all nice and full of stuff that we need I’m just. I’m gonna go” He points down the stairs and goes running, you wave awkwardly at his retreating figure with a little smile on your face 

“Uh bye! It was nice meeting you!!”

Buck walks out of the station, dumping the bucket of water out onto the pavement. He hadn’t seen you for most of the day and he was glad. 

Okay not that glad, he wanted to stare at you all day, but at least he wasn’t acting like a dumbass anymore 

“Sabrina Carpenter was right. I cannot find my chill. God her teeth?! Seriously??” He mutters to himself as he watches the water soak into the ground. 

“Talking to yourself?” 

You ask as you walk towards him, he spins around watching you walk over. God, even the way you walked, with all the confidence in the world was sexy as hell. 

“Yeah” his voice cracks and you giggle when he lets his head fall back in embarrassment. Fuck was he actually 15 again 

“Whatcha talkin' about?” He notices you’ve got a white mini backpack. It’s cute. God of course it matches your outfit

“Oh you know, your teeth” He visibly cringes and you slap your hand over your mouth trying to control your laughter 

“Oh come on it wasn’t that bad” 

“Yes. Yes, it was. You’re just being nice” 

“I think it was a genuine compliment!” you protest as you stop in front of him. You’re so much shorter than he is, he just wants to put his hand on your head and ruffle your hair. He bets you’d hate that, but god it would be cute 

“It was. A stupid one, but you know, you do have pretty teeth…and nails!” He smiles at you, his cheeks are pink and he’s flustered again but he’s outside and the sun is shining down on you and you’re glowing 

“You have pretty teeth too,” You tell him, smiling and giving him a little wink “and a cute butt!” 

His mouth drops as you walk past him with a smug little smirk “There! Now we both said something embarrassing!” 

He watches you walk over to a pink motorcycle. It’s sexy and sleek and clearly customized. He watches you climb on and start to put on your helmet 

“That’s yours?!” He asks as he jogs over. It’s a little big for you, but you obviously know what you’re doing 

“Of course it is, what do you think?”

“Uh I think I want to be a passenger Princess one day that’s for damn sure” He gives your helmet a little tap with his knuckles 

“Hope you have two of those” 

You giggle and pick a couple pieces of fuzz from the inside of it and toss them aside 

“Actually my white one is coming in today! Maybe I can come pick you up from work sometime and we can mess around” 

“Really? That sounds so cool! He says, he’s forgotten a lot of his nerves now. Now you’re just a pretty girl on a pretty bike 

“Yeah here, gimme your phone!” 

He takes his phone from his pocket and you add your number, you hand it back and flip your hair over your shoulder 

“Here, take a contact photo of me while I look cool” 

He laughs and takes a few steps back while you put your helmet on and do a cute little pose, your head tilted with peace signs 

He snaps the photo and sets it, and then he secretly sets it as his wallpaper too. He gives you a thumbs up and you make a call me sign. He fumbles his phone for a second before calling you 

“You look so freaking cool” He says as soon as you answer, his cheeks flushing again.

“Why thank you”you giggle “Send me a picture of you later so I can have a contact photo for you!” 

“Oh yeah okay sure! Uh-yeah” 

“Can you do me one more favor?” 

“Anything” He says it way too fast 

“I forgot to get Eddie’s number, he invited me for drinks tonight but Uncle Bobby pulled me away too fast to get his number” you’re rolling your eyes at Bobby as Buck’s heart is shattering 

“Uh. Yeah. Yeah sure I can do that. I’ll send it now…I gotta go finish mopping, I’ll see you whenever I suppose. Uh- Bye”

He hangs up before you can say anything and he awkwardly waves bye before running back into the station. He can hear your bike start up, he doesn’t stop hiding behind the doors until he hears you leave. 

He’s not sending that number. 

Ever. 

Okay yes he is because he said he’d do anything but he’s gonna kill Eddie first so you two can’t go out. 

He mopes all the way upstairs, stomping his feet until he gets over to the comfy chairs and flops down in it. He sinks down far into the seat and crossing his arms over his chest. He’s not talking to Eddie for as long as he lives 

“Hey man you got a second” 

“No” 

He turns away and curls up his legs. He barely fits in the chair anymore and Eddie chuckles 

“You poutin’?” Eddie pokes at his thigh

“No” 

“Okay. Anyway have you seen Y/N I need to talk to her”

“No” 

Eddie raises an eyebrow, walking over to stand in front of Buck 

“Hey what’s goin on buddy?” His voice is softer this time, worried that something happened to him. 

“Nothing” 

Buck tries to curl up even tighter but this chair was not built for a man his size throwing a tantrum 

“Buck come on just tell me what’s going on, please?”

“Leave me alone, Judas” 

Eddie’s mouth pops open and he whacks his legs “What did I do?!” 

“I said I didn’t wanna talk about it!” He snaps and Eddie rolls his eyes, he pulls Bucks legs and they fall easily. Now he’s just weirdly slumped and still not moving 

“Buck. Just talk to me, you big fat baby” 

“Why? So you can call your girlfriend?!” He gives him double middle fingers 

“What girlfriend?!” Eddie asks, his eyes squinting 

“Y/N! She wanted me to send her your number!” 

“And have you?”

“No,, I hate you”

“Can you just do it?” 

“Can your mom just do it” 

“Okay you know what-“ Eddie attacks Buck, tickling his sides and Buck shrieks, falling off the chair and laughing as he and Eddie tumble to the floor, Eddie rips his phone from his pocket and opens it

“Oh my god does she know you made her your screensaver?”

He pins Buck and sends you his number, Buck fights his way from Eddie’s hold and punches him in the side, it’s not hard at all but knocks him off 

“How dare you tickle attack me Edmundo Diaz! I thought we were friends”

“You called me Judas!”

“Because you are!!” 

“No I'm not! Asshat! You didn’t even let me talk you just hated me!”

“Yeah because you asked my girl on a date!”

“She’s literally not your girl?? And also it’s not a date dumbass! I was going to ask you if you could come and if not reschedule with her! So you could have some time with her, and I could cover for you sounding like an idiot” 

Buck gasps and slaps his cheeks, his eyes huge 

“Eddieee” he whines and Eddie rolls his eyes, getting off the floor, Buck stands up with him and jumps on him, wrapping his arms and legs around him like a koala. He nearly knocks them over again

“You did that for meee?” 

“I will drop your ass over the railing” 

Buck isn’t sure what to wear so he brings a small mountain of clothes over to Eddie’s house in the form of a large suitcase. He heaves it onto Eddie’s bed and it pops open easily when he unzips it 

“Do you know what she’s wearing?” Buck asks as he watches Eddie go through the suitcase 

“No…” he mumbles distractedly as he sets aside a couple of shirts “But I can call her” 

“Does she know I’m coming?” He twiddles his thumbs nervously, chewing his bottom lip. Eddie flicks his cheek and he stops, frowning at him 

“Yeah she knows. But if you call her it’ll seem like you want to match”

“But if you call her it’ll seem like I asked you to ask for me” 

“Damn you’ve got a point” Eddie sighs, holding the edge of the suitcase 

“Is it just the three of us tonight?” 

“Yeah…but I’ve got an idea” Eddie grabs his phone and texts Hen. He and Buck spend a few minutes going through the suitcase and organizing it before she calls 

“Let me get this straight,” She says on speaker “You want me to pretend like I’m coming for drinks tonight, to find out what color Y/N is wearing so Buck can match her? And then I say oh Karen wanted to go on a date instead whoops can’t make it”

“Yes,” They say in unison 

“...I’ll call you back” 

Buck fist pumps and Eddie chuckles at him 

“You really wanna impress her huh?”

“You know she said I could ride on her motorcycle?” Buck falls back on the bed, holding a pillow tightly to his chest

“Oh god she was so sexy when she got on that bike Eddie, I swear to god I nearly creamed my pants”

“Ew” 

“She looked so, so badass. Which is crazy considering what she was wearing because at first I thought she looked like a doll you know-“

“Buck?” Eddie stares at his phone 

“-And she still looked like a doll even on the bike but she went from a super cute doll to a-

“Buck” he looks up at him, waving his phone in front of his face

“-Super sexy doll. You know what I mean? God, she’s so versatile”

His phone pings and he picks it up “I wonder what she’s gonna-” He stares at the picture Eddie just sent him. You’re standing in front of a mirror with your little peace sign. You’ve got a black mini skirt on with a high slit on the thigh, a black strappy tank top with a corset front and a set of black platform boots. There’s a leather jacket hanging over your arm and a black heart shaped purse. 

“Hen says she said she’s just gotta accessorize and then she’s done” Eddie’s voice is quiet, his jaw would still be on the floor if Buck’s wasn’t already. He starts going through the suitcase, trying to find something. Buck has good options. It’s just hard to be on your level. But they’re both gonna damn well try. 

“I- I think I-“ 

“Buck I swear to god if you creamed your pants I’m gonna throw up”

They show up “fashionably late” to the bar. But really it’s just because after Buck finally recovered he changed at least seven times before they finally decided on the right outfit. He’s wearing a tight fitting black button down with a few of the buttons undone, because Eddie says it showcases his muscles the best and because having the sleeves quartered drives the ladies crazy. He’s got dark black jeans on and his work shoes, which are shined to the gods because in his rush to grab clothes he did not grab shoes. 

They walk in together, with Eddie purposely wearing a little bit of a loser fitting and more relaxed kind of outfit, nice blue jeans, and a flannel. He wore his work shoes so it looks like they rushed but also didn’t rush. Effortlessly putting together a flawless outfit. 

Nailed it. 

“You think she’ll be mad we’re late” Buck’s voice cracks again and Eddie snorts 

“No, she seemed perfectly fine. She’s over there” He points to the booth where you’re sitting, sipping on a fruity-looking drink. 

He leads Buck over, they practiced this so Buck could sort of be revealed. It made sense when they did it at home 

“Hey Y/N! Sorry we’re late” Eddie slides in on the opposite side of the booth and takes off his coat, putting it next to him so Buck is forced to sit by you…oh yeah it’s all going to plan 

“Oh it’s okay! I was a little late myself so it all worked out!” You scoot over a little, patting the bench next to you. He doesn’t miss the way your eyes roll over his body, you bite your lip a little and look away, feeling your cheeks get hot 

“You guys picked a cool place” you clear your throat as Buck sits next to you, putting his arm on the back of the booth to get comfy. He smells good, like the ocean and summer and a little smokey and god does he look good too. 

“Actually it was Bucks's idea. You know what I’ll be right back, I’m just gonna order our drinks at the bar and bring them over” Eddie excuses himself, and the two of you are left alone. You turn your body to face Buck’s, and now it’s his turn for his eyes to roam over your body. You looked stunning in the picture but in person? That was a whole other ball game. 

“You uh- you look pretty Y/N. It’s a really different style from earlier” 

Your cheeks flush and you smile at him a bit shyly “Thanks, I like to wear a lot of different styles actually! It’s fun!” You scoot a little closer to him now, your knees touching 

“You look super good to you know, you um-you clean up pretty well” 

His heart is practically beating out of his chest as he watches you reach for your drink, taking a long slow sip. He notices your hands trembling and frowns 

“Hey, are you okay?” He takes your hands, holding them gently “You’re shaking”

“Uh- I’m, I’m good I’m- I’m so” you pull your hands away quickly and reach for your drink again, he pushes it away a little and hooks your chin with his finger, making you look up at him. He’s staring into your eyes, but he looks worried as his firefighter's brain turns on 

“Have you eaten anything? Your drink seems a little strong for an empty stomach, maybe I should go order you something”

You put your hands on his chest to make him sit back down “No! No that’s okay I’m fine! Uh- I’m- okay” you take a deep breath “Can I be honest with you?” 

“You can tell me anything Y/N. I’m here for you” he turns your palms and kisses them before holding them to his chest to warm them up. 

“Y-you’re making me nervous” you gulp and his eyes widen, his cheeks flush and he lets go of your hands 

“Oh” 

You cringe and he chuckles, scooting closer to you and putting his arm over your shoulders. His scent is intoxicating as it washes over you, the close proximity not helping the tiny buzz you’re getting. 

“So what you’re saying is…I have pretty teeth” 

You laugh loudly, your head falling back against his arm and you smack your hand over your mouth. He leans into your neck laughing with you and giving you a sweet kiss on your cheek 

“Maybe I’ll make you flustered now” He winks and you roll your eyes, the light blush on your cheeks giving you away. 

“You made me flustered when I met you this afternoon. You were just too in your head to notice. I could barely talk to you” 

“I wish you’d made me shy like you were. But instead, you just make me stupid” 

You giggle and lean into him “Sorry about that” 

“S’okay doll, we ended up here together anyway right?” 

Eddie comes back over with a tray, he’s got two drinks and a basket of cheese curds

“Hope you’re not lactose intolerant” he jokes and hands Buck his drink 

“No actually, couldn’t keep me away from cheese even if I was though. Especially fried cheese” 

Buck takes one from the basket and holds it up to your lips

“Let’s soak up some of that alcohol” he watches the way your lips part and your tongue comes out to accept the bite…he can just imagine it wrapped around something else other than a delicious cheese curd. He grunts and turns his head away when he feels Eddie kick him under the table for staring. He knows Eddie knows exactly what he was thinking 

The rest of the night carries on wonderfully, you get to know both men as they tell stories about each other, trying to one up the other and it’s funny as hell. You’re hanging off of Buck by the end of the night just trying to keep yourself from getting kicked from the bar for how loudly you’re laughing. Eddie is laid on the seat, snorting into his coat and Buck is holding onto you tightly as he makes no sounds, trying to start breathing again. 

Eventually you all catch your breath, and just lay there for a bit, still giggling. It’s amazing you’re the only one that’s slightly tipsy, the other two are just idiots and that makes you giggle more. Especially Eddie who was the designated driver. Buck gets up from the booth, helping you up. He catches you as you stumble into his chest, his cheeks burn red when you look up at him, a playful little look in your eyes. He can practically see the little devil horns on your head 

Actually. He can. 

“Have you been wearing these all night??” He pats the little headband and Eddie falls back in his seat laughing again. You crash into Bucks's chest, your face smooshed against the soft material of his shirt as you laugh

“Buck that’s the 6th time you’ve asked that. They came with her drink, the specialty of the month. Devil MAY care?? Remember the one the bartender came up with” 

Buck and Eddie drop you off at Athena’s house and Buck walks you up to the door with his arm around you. He takes the keys from your hand and unlocks it for you before dropping them back in your open palm. He takes a few steps back and puts his hands in his pockets, you turn to look up at him, your hands clasped behind your back 

“I had so much fun tonight. Maybe we can do something else this week? If you’re not busy”

“With just me?” He teases “I’ll see if Eddie is free! Maybe we can go bowling or something” 

“If he’s not that’s okay- I mean. I wouldn’t mind being alone with you,” 

Oh Eddie is definitely not coming. 

“Alright Doll, sounds fun to me. I’ll call you and we can plan something with or without him” he wiggles his eyebrows as you giggle, and the way you giggle makes him want to kiss you. But he knows for a fact Athena’s got cameras. 

“Well, I uh- I should go…Eddie is probably gettin' tired. You know him, big ole sleepy guy” 

You shake your head, smiling at him “Yeah okay… I’ll see you soon?” 

“Yup…soon” He walks backward carefully, watching you stand there “Go on, get inside cutie”

Hopefully, the cameras didn’t have sound. 

You blush and give him that little wave of yours before turning around and going in 

“Night Buck..”

“Night Doll” 

He’s about to turn around when the door opens and you come running back out again, you pull him down to your height and kiss him on the cheek. 

He was stunned, to say the least. He melts for you, his body going all jellied and limp. He hurries down the walkway as soon as you’re in the house safe and sound. He’s definitely got a skip in his step as he dances his way back to the car. 

The next morning he’s just as happy as he was when he went to bed, he’s humming as he pours everyone a cup of coffee. Setting them all out on the table with the breakfast Eddie is setting out too. He’s just putting the silverware down when Bobby comes up the stairs, narrowing his eyes at him. 

“Did you call my niece “cutie”

Okay, so the cameras did have sound. 

#words by rhys #Rhys writes #buck x reader #evan buckley x reader #evan buck buckely #evan buckley #911 x reader #911 fanfic #9 1 1 abc #911 fox #eddie diaz #bobby nash #chimney han #hen wilson #Orange Blossoms

[rosewaterandivy]

9. part-time soulmate, full-time problem

Summary: Rumor has it, that hometown hero-turned-teacher Steve Harrington is hot for teacher. The English teacher next door to him at Hawkins High, who also happens to be his childhood friend, that is.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x chaotic!dumbass reader

Warnings: No use of y/n - reader goes by the nickname Trouble instead, cursing, sexual situations - SMUT & idolatry (my usual bullshit), we think we’re ~prank Sinatra~ to disastrous effect i.e. a fake elopement, Modern!Teacher AU, English teacher reader, History teacher Steve, slow burn, friends to lovers, romance.

A/N: hey girl, u up? lemme come thru 💦💦💦 🥵🥵🥵 *slaps roof of fic* You can fit so much reverence and smut in this bad boy. Here’s 5.1K of pure filth and debauchery, holy water can’t help me now! Poetry excerpt from Sue Zhao. 18+ mature content (minors dni). Reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated, please let me know what you thought; enjoy & thanks for reading! 💜

series masterlist | playlist - newly updated!

Steve's playlist for Trouble: trouble will find me

previous || next

Now, Spring Break, Joshua Tree, CA ➡️ Las Vegas, NV 

“You did what?”

And it’s not a question, not by a long shot. 

If Nancy Wheeler wasn’t some 1,800 miles from you, you’d be seeing the patented snarl right now. The one that says ‘you’ll be dead by my hand and my hand alone.’

There’s a very real possibility that you’ve overplayed your hand this time. What started as a prank, a harmless lark, had devolved into one screeching phone call from Steve’s mother for him and a blistering series rapid-fire of texts for you, followed by a phone call during which Nancy was going to rip you a new asshole.

She didn’t appreciate your texts as you’d hoped.

Trouble 👁️👄👁️: so BDE is not *just* an energy with Steve. got it, good to know.

Natty light 💯: She lives! We haven’t heard from you in days. Wtf did you idiots do?

Trouble 👁️👄👁️: nothing to be concerned about! on an unrelated note, before you check insta remember that i am your BESTIE and you would miss me terribly(!!!) if i died, even if it was at your own hand

Natty light 💯: … I’m going to kill you, and resurrect your dessicated corpse so I can strangle you … slowly and painfully

Trouble 👁️👄👁️: pls mother, no, i’m scared

But hey, it’s not like you woke up and decided to potentially fuck up your life today.

So, yeah. Definitely went too far with it this time, but in your defense, it’s not like anyone was there to reign you in. Steve was just as liable to go on with your half-cocked schemes, even more so now that you could sit back on your heels, all pretty smiles and wide, sweet eyes as your hands unbuckle his belt, still supplicated with chin on his knee, “You said anything...”

Folded like a house of cards the second you got your mouth on him. Shudders when you begin with your tongue first before eager lips stretch to fit him, guiding until he’s nestled in your mouth. And then you move, deliberately measured, building a lazy pace, sluicing him up with spit.

“Ah, shit…” Steve’s words are already betraying him. You smile as his cock pops out of your mouth.

“How’s that? Still wanna make that dinner reservation?” Thick lashes framing glittering doe-eyes peer up at him. Purposely coy. “Or do you want to stay here?”

He returns to himself. Dazed, he blinks at the bright lights and the glossy tiled floor. The marble countertop of the sink where he grips like a lifeline.

The restroom down the hall of the restaurant. Turn a corner and twenty people are sitting at tables, drinking cocktails and cajoling. Your mouth back on him wipes the thoughts from his brain.

Squelching when you push him back past your molars, crushing your tongue.

You slide him out, voice hoarse and breathy and it chills him to the bone the way you whisper, “C’mon baby, let’s have some fun.”

The second day in California runs a lot more smoothly, and the third day is as easy as a breeze. Granted, it’s a hot, humid, sticky type of desert breeze as you wipe a hand across your forehead in the heat of the day.

Steve hums a patient tune, leans back on both palms and you watch the sunlight drape his bare chest in a warm flare. Glowing gold and bronze as if it’s transmuted from the hue in his very eyes.

He is hard and hot when your bare skin touches his. Steve lies down on his side to face you, panting slightly as you glide your hand up and down his arm. Oh fuck, it’s been months and the first man you touch is more like something carved by a master sculptor of Renaissance than any other man. It should be illegal for someone to look this good.

Trembling, you touch the hard planes of his torso, the ridges in his abdomen, the swell of his chest taking hard breaths. You shut your eyes and imagine the way he looks right now—breathless and wild. His knee parts your legs easily and one hand descends to feel your center, saturating your underwear.

“Jesus, baby,” Steve sighs into your neck. “You’re makin’ me crazy. This–” He begins to slide his digits up and down, getting the slippery wetness all over his fingers, “Already…”

A shudder rolls through your body upon hearing his words and you arch into his touch, moaning when he rubs your clit in perfect pulsing circles. He moves forward, kissing the tops of your breasts through your bra, nipping at the soft flesh spilling from the cups.

“Steve, you’ll make me come.” You admit, a little shyly even as your hips rock consciously into his hand. You paw at his arms, squeezing the ridges of muscles.

And you’re abruptly startled awake by the sound your own moans. It’s past four in the morning when you rouse from sleep, frustrated to leave behind the pleasant escape the dream provided.

Damn it all to hell.

A creak of the wood door alerts you to his arrival. Steve is quiet when he sits on your bed, one knee pulled up to his chest while the other leg slinks down by your side, thigh brushing yours where your legs kicked off the covers. A sigh rolls through him at the early hour.

There is discomfort. His body retreats with the shift of your atmosphere. Always too itchy in your own skin. Afraid of being seen, noticed, thought about. He’s good at hearing your silence. Good at reading your language.

“Couldn’t sleep?”

He glistens like a god come to drown you in the sweetest of dreams. It makes your heart plummet to its death at the thought of his departure when you shake your head.

“Me neither.”

He lays back on your bed with a tired sigh, close enough to touch. Your own personal wonder.

“C’mere then,” you tug him to your side. Steve presses his lips to your neck, smiles into the wispy hair at the nape, nuzzles your locks aside to reveal more shoulder. Breathing soft and slow with his face against your neck, chest to your chest. He’s folded and tucked against you, all his strength and gravity nestled to your side.

“Honey—” Steve murmurs, more purposefully now, rasps your name, so soft and reverent you almost don’t hear it.

A confused noise, a second of readjustment to a new position, to his touch, and then you stir and purr.

“Hey, you.” Voice like warm fire, even with disrupted sleep from past few days.

A heavy silence falls between you.

Tell me what you’re thinking. If it was a mistake, tell me. If it wasn’t, tell me. You’ve been avoiding me and look—I want your goddamn babies, but c’mon. You gotta throw me a bone, I’m shit at reading signs.

He wants to take you to pieces, eyes roving your sleep-drowsy form, shorts rucked up on your thighs, shirt askew. Would devour you whole if you’d let him, savor your cries and moans at his capable hands. Make a ruin you only to build you right back up, unable to think of anyone else save him.

Steve arches, brushing the tip of his nose against your chin, up to your own nose, mouth hovering but not quite touching, just feeling each other’s atmosphere. You cross the distance and kiss him, grip tighter now like he could collapse right into you and god, you wish he could. Let you keep every last bit of him forever.

“Can we—”

You savor his lips, caressing the line of his cupid’s bow with your own, tongue flicking over the corners of his mouth, punctuating it chastely like a ritual. He moans, hand on the plane of your back moving, fingers scrambling at your spine before he palms your thigh and slots you flush against his torso with one leg hooked around his waist.

“God yes. Lemme just—”

He tugs at the waistband of your sleeping shorts before he changes his mind and his hands slip into the leg opening of the silk instead, keeping you right where you are. He rucks his own sweats down, just enough to spring himself free, shushing your whines, never letting you get too far, slipping upward, finding your heat.

“Eyes on me, baby.”

“Okay, Steve—ah—”

Right. So this is happening. Like, right the fuck now. 

Oh god.

You’re both surprised and terrified, blinking at his urgency, and then you start scrambling, too. A beatific grin blooms on your lips before you tip forward and slowly glide yourself down his considerable size, rubbing back and forth, hips moving easily.

Steve stutters breathlessly like he might go into shock. “You’re all fucking— oh fuckin’ hell.”

You only arch into it, holding his chin between your thumb and forefinger, kissing the bristles of his jaw. You’re soft and warm and he’s utterly overcome. Little noises fall from one mouth to another. An awkward shift and your thighs slip off his, head knocking into him, but neither of you are bothered.

A half-hearted cluck of your tongue gives way to a low moan and you shuffle, flush against his chest, bare bodies warm and growing hotter now. Your palm rubs down his chest, savoring the rougher feel of his hairs there, contrasting your own skin, grasping his jutting hipbones, the strong plane of his abdomen.

Eager fingers slip between flesh. Velvet and surprisingly slick and wrapping around his digits like syrupy flower petals. “Baby girl,” Steve hums at the way you sigh. “Pretty girl.”

Shudders. You’re weak and boneless, slack and supple, pliant to his fingers and words. Little sweet-talker, you never knew he had such a clever tongue until he first slid it against yours in that fevered kiss in December. Now he’ll know all your weaknesses, know every lock and how to pick them until you’re all the way opened up for him.

It’s hard to focus when he’s like this. Perfectly warm. Perfectly adoring. Perfectly fitted. So, so bright with the faintest pink bursting over his cheeks.

You whimper with his every stroke. Every plunge. His other hand runs itself up the nape of your neck, fingertips in your scalp and you arch like a cat for more. 

“So good,” Steve praises, “Nice and tight, squeezin’ around me. All wet for me, aren’t you?” 

“Uh— mhm.” Inarticulate noises. Woozy and wrapped in his affection.

His eyes– pupils blown wide, half-hooded with lust and love– immobilize you, memorizing every inch of your face. He smiles. Christ, a smile that could launch a thousand ships. That could blind the whole world.

You curse quietly, blood pounding in your ears, your chest, your throat where he latches on with his perfect mouth, marking you up with his spit quickly followed by his teeth.

“Keep going—oh, don’t stop–“

“You want it like this, honey?” He sucks on your collar, on your shoulder, taking every whimper and cry as a command to continue.

They flower all over your chest. Red and purple and swollen bright for everyone to see—just like him. And the very thought of him, of you, lost to it takes you over the edge, calling his name like you’re at an altar in supplication.

“That’s it, honey. Be a good girl and come for me.”

With a tremble that vibrates all the way to into Steve’s soul, you obey. Onto his hips and abdomen, gushing a little, and with some embarrassment that it happened all so quickly. 

Your lids flutter open and you see as Steve hitches himself deeper, grinding his hips, gripping your thighs, and fills you all the way up until the stars behind your eyes whites out your vision, making you stutter and keen as you continue to fall apart.

Then he stills, pulling you even closer, body slick with dew in the early morning light. The two of you lie in perfect symmetry, trembling in each other’s arms.

And because you’re a sap with too much poetry rattling around your brain, all that pops into your head is:

In my dreams I am kissing your mouth and you’re whispering ‘where have you been?’ I say, ‘I’ve been lost but I’m here now. You’re the only person who has ever been able to find me.’

You allow yourself to sink into the feeling, expecting the tight fit of something new but finding that not to be the case at all. But rather brushing against something well-worn, as if it had been waiting for you all this time. 

“God, Steve—” you rasp. “You’ve been holding out on me.”

Steve laughs low, kisses the blooming bruises up and down your neck, makes you whine again, sensitive and aching. His clever tongue wonders sweetly, “How’s staying in bed all day sound?”

You laugh. He’ll learn everything you like. Know all your weaknesses. How can you say no to something like that?

It’s different, almost tender in the afternoon. 

His abs clench in time with his fists, wet fingers digging into his palms, bit-back groans barely contained. You keep going, marveling at the way he’s sensitive, kissing his neck, letting him feel good. Steve begins to protest, embarrassed at the way you’re moving, at how he’s powerless against you.

“S-slow—hold on—“

“Let me do it, Stevie.” He’s so hard it hurts. “I wanna learn everything you like.”

Jesus. Fucking. Christ. Steve holds himself to calm down, other hand steadying your teasing. Nothing’s happened yet, you just started back up again after a late breakfast, having slept soundly through the morning, and he might already blow his whole fucking load.

“Okay—just—will you give me a second–”

Using the position you’re already in, he pushes you up against the mattress and guides you back down, hitching your thighs around his hips, sinking a bit at a time until you’re landing on him with a gasp. He eases into you with what he hopes is restraint, letting you have it slow, feeling you shudder from inside your goddamn bones with every further inch until he takes it away and you shimmy down to the hilt.

Your eyes roll back. And you look perfect.

“Was it good?” He blurts, “With Eddie?”

He doesn’t know why it slips out; he never thinks about it, honest. It was a series of hook ups. A few times over the years—and he’s not jealous like that because you’re all adults, and it’s not like he’s a virgin or an ascetic, either. You freeze, but he really is an idiot because instead of apologizing or rectifying that outburst, he cuts you off.

“I can give it to you better.”

Because Steve wants to. He really does.

He presses onward before you can respond, taking hold of what little courage he has, making you whimper, feeling prouder as he goes. Another one and you’re meeting him with a roll of your own hips. Another one, harder now, and you’re shaking down below him, tipping back into the pillows, grinding recklessly with that exhilaration he adores.

“Baby, you feel amazing.” Tongue-tied like a schoolboy, he’s keening after your words. “Can I have you all the time?” And Jesus wept who knew you could talk so sweet and filthy.

“Yeah, sweetheart,” Steve promises, his jaw hanging open in awe, “I’m yours. You can have me as much as you want— anytime.”

You bite your lip, skin of it pulled taut and snapping back bruised, light-headed and reeling. Glistening across your collarbones with his spit, body trembling like a high note. He feels it— just a little more— god, you look incredible— he’s gotta hold out for this— and then—fuck. 

It’s wet and divine when you come. Slick and tight, dragging him under as you ride out your orgasm, pulling him in like he belongs in you forever.

And he knows. He knows, he knows, he knows.

Steve could die happy seeing your face like this every day.

Two weeks prior…

“Eddie…tell me the truth,” You ask slowly, folding clothes (well, that’s a generous term— it’s more haphazardly tossing and bundling laundry into your open suitcase). “It’s good, isn’t it? Shawty, tell me what that thang do!” 

You waggle your brows, make a V-shape with your fingers, and lewdly run your tongue up and down between them. Steve thinks he sees you looking at him, but he feels himself flushing at your comment and pretends like he’s enthralled with the most recent episode of Keeping Up with the Kardashians. Half-keeping an eye on you to make sure you actually pack actual pajamas and pants for this trip. 

“Dude. Stop it.” Eddie groans, knowing you’re all too familiar with his endowments and prowess from previous experience.

Whomever currently was getting the Eddie Munson midnight special was having a helluva time. 

You lob a pair of leggings toward your suitcase, “Kobe!”

You miss.

Eddie cackles, “How’re you gonna disrespect a legend like that, and miss?!”

“Okay!” Steve yells, pushing you off the couch in the living room, “That’s enough of that. I’m going for a run.”

Landing on your shoulder with a grunt, you brush away the rough sting of the carpet and catch the last second of his shadow before he’s gone from the room.

“What?” You call, projecting your voice and hoping he hears, “What’d I do? Steve!”

The scrape of the chair legs signals Eddie standing up, too. A shake of his head and he crosses his arms over his chest.

“You know,” he starts, “For all your insight, you’re pretty dense.”

There’s nothing in your head but sawdust and thoughts about his… activities under the sheets his flavor of the month. You shake it out of your brain before it lingers too long. Eddie points sharply down the hall to where Steve’s shadow has slipped out of view and hearing-distance.  

“You know he likes you, right?”

Uh? Your brain is the mac loading wheel, just spinning. “Of course he does? We’re buddies?”

Eddie cuffs you in the back of the head, “Get it together. Like is putting it lightly, too. Love is closer to the truth.”  

“Now,” Eddie leans over you, menacing you with his height. “How about you go listen to the record he gave you and think about what you’ve done, hmm?”

Then, he saunters off, shaking his head all the while, leaving you to gape down the hall like a fish. Steve? In love? With you?  

Flashes explode in your brain like fireworks. His jacket over your shoulders—not the first time. Sitting underneath your legs— nearly tradition. Morning errand runs even though he hates them. The banter—him, scolding your motor-mouth, you— never stopping. Circles he rubs on your knees— the laughter—damn it, so much laughter.

Steve? In love? With you? It’s more likely than you think.

Back in your bedroom and chastened, you wait until the front door closes signaling Steve’s exit. Turning to the wall dedicated to your impassioned analytical skills, you eye the various colors of yarn showing the various connections that could be drawn from the song choice and order in which they were placed. 

Printed out pages of lyrics have been annotated to death, some phrases scrawled more largely than others for importance. You stare at the wall for the better part of an hour, long enough to come to the end of the playlist. Sufjan Stevens rhapsodizes on the mystery of love and fades into Matt Berninger singing how he needs his girl.

A gasp. A choke and a wail somewhere deep inside your chest as you slowly, methodically begin removing the pins and pages from your wall. Realization settling on you heavy with mood. 

Clearly, this was not some bush-league bullshit.  

Hesitant, but growing in the knowledge that Steve, your best friend whom you annoy to no end, is irrefutably and undeniably in love with you. You’d have seen it sooner if you weren’t such a dumbass, all the signs had been there just lying in wait. The front door opens once more, his voice calling out to Robin in the kitchen about dinner. 

“Steve.” You light out of your room, tearing down the hallway. “Stevie! Steve! I’m sorry! Steve oh my god! I’m a fuckup!”  

You trip on the corner of the floor runner, as he turns, slightly confused, one hand reaching out to catch you as you careen into his chest with a thunk.

You must look a wreck, hair in disarray and panting hard, him sweat-slick, bearing your weight as he sets you right on your feet.  

Steve raises an eyebrow, blinks at the way the front of your shirt slides from your shoulder and takes his ear buds out, looking at you like you’re a first-rate idiot.

And well ... he’s not wrong.

The flight to Vegas is painless, though you are put out at having to leave the love nest that bloomed like a night flower in the Californian desert. A lazy, slow start to the day. Sticky and sweet like biting into a ripe peach, juices flowing down against sun-warmed skin. 

His hand pulling at yours, guiding you through the crowds of the airport, looking back to you frequently, as if he can’t bring himself not to. One hour later and viva, Las Vegas!

As it turns out, it’s fairly easy to fake a Vegas elopement. Just a matter of subterfuge and a wedding chapel, which are a plenty in Clark County. Steve in a suit (“You weren’t even wearing a tie, Steven! Who gets married looking like that!?”), rotating the signet of his ring out of sight, the ‘H’ resiting against the underside of his ring finger so just the band was visible. 

You in a dress, something white and off the rack from Neiman’s, your ring, courtesy of Steve, moved from your right hand to your left. Sapphire earrings as your something blue, Manolo Blahnik pumps in your favorite color, a gift from Steve, as your something new.

A well-timed call to Jonathan, he was in town for a shoot and just so happened to have a few hours to kill. An appointment at the Graceland Wedding Chapel and 250 dollars later, you have yourself a believable elopement, no marriage certificate required. 

Even drove out to the Red Rock Mojave desert outside of town for a photoshoot courtesy of one Jonathan Byers, professional photographer. By the time you’d made it back to your room at the Wynn that night, he’d already done a rough edit of a few photos for you to post to the ‘gram. Piece of cake, really.

It was all well and good. Steve even let you tag him and posted his favorite images himself, miracle of miracles. The man does jack shit with social media, claims he only has the account for the groupchats and memes. Captioned it something like ‘married AF’ because he’s a dork; first photo in the carousel was a shot of your hands, showing off the new bling with the wedding chapel sign in the background.

You opted for the more truthful, ‘ew, boy. you’re, like, obsessed with me’ and selected a photo where your legs wrapped around Steve’s hips after he’d told you to ‘time to giddy-up, yeah?’ with a wink and caught you in his arms before kissing you stupid. You were quite pleased with yourself until the phones began to ring.

“Jus’ ignore it, honey.” His teeth pull against your bottom lip, bringing your attention back to him. You screw your eyes shut, hand falling to cup the nape of his neck as his lips continue their mapping of your skin. Purposefully, he plays with a lock of your hair, tucks it behind your ear, and lets his finger ghost over your neck. “Gonna kiss you now,” you murmurs, “Doin’ some of my best work here and you’re missing it.”

He pouts.

Your throat clenches, bobbing with a thick swallow and Steve thinks if this wasn’t so tender and sweet, he’d be latching onto that pulse instead. “Okay…” Your mouth parts expectantly, eyes fluttering closed, hand coming up to caress his jaw.

It’s sublime. It’s perfect. It’s the biggest relief he’s ever felt when you return his touch—parting your lips to receive the tip of his tongue against yours. Thirst. Desperation. Enthusiastic limbs scrambling to feel more of him. A bucking of your hips against his thigh and he’s soaring up into heaven with the sensation.

Except the damn phone won’t stop ringing. 

“Steve,” you pant, hand reaching up to fist his hair and pull him from your the sensitive spot he’s located behind your ear. As you tangle your fingers in his mane of hair, securing your grip with a tug, he breaks contact with your slick skin with a strangled moan.

Oh.

You file that particular reaction away for further investigation and direct his attention to the loudly ringing phone on the nightstand. He rolls off of you with an exasperated noise and answers the call in a sulk. “Hi, Ma.”

His expression changes so quickly you nearly have whiplash; lazy and pouty one moment to shocked silent in the next while his mother lectures him, a mile a minute. Eyes cutting to you, he grabs your phone from the same table and holds it in font of you to unlock it via Face ID. You roll your eyes and bat him away, taking a slug of water from the glass on your bedside table.

“Shit,” Steve mutters, putting himself on mute and his mom on speaker as he scrolls through your phone. “Holy fucking shit, nonono.”

You lean over and take a peek. He’s thumbing through Facebook, pupils blown wide in shock at the sheer number of notifications on his accidental post. Because yes, Steve accidentally cross-posted the photos from Instagram to Facebook as an update, like genius. 

“Are you fucking kidding me!?”

He drops your phone on the bed when it starts to ring, like it’s a venomous thing that could take him down in one strike. 

Sheepishly, he looks to you and mouths ‘I’m so sorry’ as he returns to his mother’s raging diatribe. 

After checking the caller ID, you answer, voice flat. “Hello.”

“You little scamp,” Eddie tuts, “Stole my idea of eloping in Vegas and everything, I hate you.”

In spite of yourself, you crack a smile. “It’s a prank, babe.” A sigh as you pull your hair up and off of your shoulders. “Not legally binding at all. Having Byers on deck really sold the idea though.”

“You are the absolute worst, Trouble.” You warm at his soft laughter, “What’d you do to get Steve to agree? Drop to you knees all nice and pretty?”

A swell of pride accompanies the rush of heat at the thought of your earlier rendezvous. “Y’know Eds, I did exactly that. How perceptive of you.”

He cackles. “It’s tried and true for a reason, babe.” Steve is nodding furiously at whatever his mother is yammering on about, bare back toward you as he sits on the edge of the bed. 

A push and a slide across the rumpled sheets and you’ve wrapped around him like a vine. His thumb rubs at your ankle, pulling your leg to envelop his hip. Opposite arm dangling across his chest as you press your face into his neck, revelling in his scent—cypress, vetiver, and something slight musky tinged with salt. All warm and pliable.

“Nance may have called in some reinforcements.” Eddie says carefully. “I told her to fuck off, but she’s beyond reason at this point.”

“Whaddya mean?”

He sighs, “Just be on the lookout for an angry lesbian, alright?”

You snort, drawing Steve’s attention. He twists in your hold, phone discarded on the table finally, fingers trailing tantalizingly up and down your sides. Pushes you back against the bed, chin resting on your sternum as you talk with Eddie, head tilted as he listens.

Begging off the phone call, you say your goodbyes. “Hey,” Eddie says before you go, voice soft and warm, “You happy babe? You sound it.”

“Yeah,” you turn your head and grin at the ridiculousness of your life. Steve follows your lips, his own blazing a trail across your chest and up to meet your shoulder. “I’m really happy, Eds.”

Steve plucks the phone from your hand, “Bye Munson!” He sings before ending the call and unceremoniously dropping your phone on the floor.

And Steve never thought a person was supposed to laugh so hard during sex, or maybe that’s just your own brand of love, but he doesn’t want to find out with anyone else.

It’s the fifth time, and Steve’s dick is about to fall off—how are you still doing this—just a few thrusts in when the banging on the door frightens the both of you into your clothes.

Robin swings it open and Steve is desperately tucking himself into his pants before—please, no.

“It smells like ass in here!” She hollers, “The hell have you two been—oh my god.”

“Shut up, Rob!” You respond from the corner of the room, head ripping through the neck hole of a shirt, legs wiggling into a pair shorts. Steve is still shirtless, hoping he might spontaneously combust.

“Oh my god,” Robin whispers again, “Oh… my god.” She sputters on the verge of either eruption or death.

“You freaky little—” she hisses, before screaming, “Oh fuck no! I’m here picking your asses up. Got on a flight at ass o'clock from Indy— you're butt-ass-naked in here—” She stands ram-rod straight, hands on her hips angrily. “I’m tellin’ on you.”

“Telling on?! What are you, five!? You’re so annoying, Rob!”

“Annoying? What’s annoying is—I’m exhausted! And well— you're exhausted too, huh?”

“I hate you.”

She snickers, high-fiving herself before crossing her arms, “Now get your freaky asses outside so I can go home and drink myself into forgetting I ever saw Harrington’s dick.”

You pat her on the shoulder, “It’s nice, huh?”

Robin dry-heaves, “Uh-uh. That’s enough. Go wash your damn hands.”

A few minutes later, Steve closes the door to the now-silent hotel room, damp with sweat and the lingering aroma of musk. Robin trots on ahead, leading the pair of you through the lobby and out into the dry desert heat.

His hand pulls at yours, reassuring and warm. A small smile blooms across your face and you allow yourself to revel in it for a moment: heading home with Steve, can't even bring yourself to be all that mad at Robin's antics.

Not when he turns back to check on you, all tan skin and that devastating smile. Tugs you closer as Robin flags down the Uber, lays his lips against yours, and kisses you with a sweetness only he could bring.

Oh yeah, you think tangling your free hand in his shirt. This'll do just fine.

#steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington smut #reader insert #teacher!steve #the kids aren't alright - rosewaterandivy

[lucky-archived]

location: yes - idk outside lazy daze? i just work here dude who: @chillbenjie​

Squinted bloodshot eyes stared for almost too long at the disappearing pink familiar dome. “Aye, ALOHA bitch - I know that’s you!” Lucky cupped his hands around his mouth so the loud greeting would travel a half a block to where they were spotted. That also gave enough startle time to run and catch up to their friend. “I could recognize that pink halo anywhere,” he said slightly out of breath. Lucky extended his hand for a homie handshake. “What the fuck is up Hawaii, I didn’t think I’d catch you this far inland?” The last time their paths crossed was when they parted ways in Northern California.  He loved them, they were right on their wavelength and vibed the same way. Now it was even more of a reason to chill in the mountains, even if he planned on staying for awhile either way.

#c: benjie #benjie 001.

[mvriigold]

there is no warning. not really, outside of the slide of her arm around julie's waist to hold her briefly still while her free hand tucks a smaller sunflower just behind julie's ear. satisfied with the result, maria beams! ( @ julie )

Lazing around in the grass like this, Julie really, genuinely can’t think of a better way to live. 

Sure, she’s still miles upon miles from California, and some mornings, she wakes up so homesick that it makes her stomach hurt. But every day is worth it. The experience of meeting so many new people, making friends, spreading her wings and trying to step out of her comfort zone. Julie wouldn’t go back on any of it. And certainly not on days like this.

Laid back in a sea of grass and wildflowers, she’d closed her eyes and soaked in the daylight after hers and Maria’s packed lunch, looking not too unlike a dazed, sun-drunk cat. Lips curled upwards in pleasure, Julie had ended up actively dozing off in the meadow. Lulled to rest by her company, a full stomach, and the blissful existence of having a day, for once, with exactly zero responsibilities waiting on her. Realistically, she hadn’t stood a chance. 

Knocking out for what could be minutes or hours, Julie isn’t sure how much time she’s lost when her eyes finally reopen. In those first few moments, all that exists is her and the endless blue sky. Thank god she remembered to put on sunscreen.

With a lazy sleep-soaked hum, she sits upwards. Hands propped behind her back, she pauses for a moment before straightening: both arms stretching out with a satisfied noise. Her muscles are certainly grateful for the break from workouts and volleyball rallies, and with that nap out of the way, she’s thinking the rest of her body is too. 

“I’m up!”

She still sounds a little out of it, but there’s points for effort. 

Stretching a little further, Julie glances around for a glimpse of her friend - easing into a smile the moment she spots her. With a last, satisfying stretch of her neck, she gets to her feet and makes her way over: curious as to what exactly Maria was busying herself with while she was napping, and maybe looking to catch her off guard. It’s her remaining tiredness that ends up foiling her.

Grey-green eyes widen as Maria’s arm slips around her waist - and then a delighted smile blooms as the flower is tucked behind her ear. Laughter following, Julie raises a hand to feather gently over the yellow petals as Maria beams at her. Though she’s tempted to remove the flower to examine it, she leaves it right where it is. 

In fact, as far as she’s concerned, it’s staying there for the rest of the day.

“Guess you caught me.”

Shrugging with a lingering smile, Julie reaches forwards to snap a matching flowerhead from the plant. It’s deftly tucked behind Maria’s opposite ear, and she looks more than a little proud of her work as her lips upturn further. “There. Now we match. What have you been up to?”

#[ 𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 . ☼ ] #› ☼ 𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘭 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘵 ! ☼ » ic . #f1rstcut #this got a little away from me but i hope it works ok!

[yesthatssadirichardslove]

Review: The good and the bad of the Golden Globes

LOS ANGELES

Tuesday night doesn’t really scream “glamorous awards show.”

We’ve been trained to expect those on Sundays, when you can spend a lazy evening half-watching E! reporters vamp in formal wear for hours on end, waiting for stars to arrive as you do other things. Sundays are elegant. Tuesdays are not.

But the embattled Hollywood Foreign Press Association probably didn’t have much say in the matter if they wanted to get the Golden Globe Awards back on broadcast television in time for its 80th anniversary. So, Tuesday it was.

Hollywood, in large part, turned out too, acting as though it wasn’t a rainy weekday in Southern California and as though they hadn’t just a year ago protested the existence of the show. Brad Pitt and Angela Bassett came. So did Steven Spielberg and Ryan Coogler. Everyone played their roles.

There were gowns and suits and bow ties and diamonds, clavicle bones and updos. Eddie Redmayne even had an oversized Carrie Bradshaw-esque satin flower affixed to his suit lapel. On the sodden silver carpet, Laverne Cox swooned over Austin Butler and Michelle Yeoh’s nominated performances, in “Elvis” and “Everything Everywhere All At Once,” respectively. No one seemed very worried about being there.

How much is the viewing audience — aside from the select few who are both very online and film fans — really thinking about the organization that votes for these awards? Once the lights go down, it’s all about the show that’s right in front them — the stars, the speeches, the laughs. But host Jerrod Carmichael made sure to remind everyone of the ugly truths behind all the glitz and advertising dollars at the start.

In the familiar ballroom of the Beverly Hilton hotel, awards went to good people who gave good, emotional speeches.

Ke Huy Quan, winning the first award of the night for his big comeback role in “Everything Everywhere All At Once,” warmed hearts shouting out Spielberg for giving him his first opportunity. The cameras were ready to cut back to the director, who cheered on the kid he directed so long ago in “Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom.”

Jeremy Allen White, who catapulted to fame with “The Bear,” quivered when he mentioned his beloved, late manager Chris Huvane, continuing to say “thank you” as he walked off stage in a daze. “The White Lotus’” Jennifer Coolidge wasn’t the only one reflecting on her own career and life on stage. Even Spielberg, normally stoic, got teary-eyed during his own turn the podium.

The room looked like a dimly lit lounge, with endless champagne on the tables and a piano player decked in white feathers while giving theatrical flourishes to the “Sex and the City” theme and vamping for the cameras.

Bassett and Quinta Brunson learned the hard way that reading acceptance speeches off their phones was perhaps a mistake as family and friends texted them congratulations for their win. Colin Farrell used his own acceptance speech to compliment Ana de Armas’ performance in “Blonde,” as well as all of his “Banshees of Inisherin” collaborators, down to Jenny the donkey. Both he and Yeoh scolded the piano music that started to play them off.

“Shut up, please!” Yeoh said. “I can beat you up.”

It wasn’t for another hour that Carmichael would step up to clarify that the woman shown at the piano, Chloe Flower, was not actually the one playing many a winner off. It was a track, he said.

In many ways, the big film acting winners — Yeoh, Butler, Farrell and Quan — at the Globes looked like a possible rehearsal for those who might take the stage on Oscar night in March. But is that a good thing?

Depends on who you’re asking: For those campaigning, the value is clear. For those watching, well, it might just start to feel redundant. They also came very, very early in the show that somehow kept going past 11 p.m. Eastern (despite the aggressive playing off).

But Carmichael kept the room on edge even well into the show as he came out, some 90 minutes in, holding “Tom Cruise’s three returned Golden Globe statuettes” and suggesting they could be used in exchange for “the safe return of Shelly Miscavige," Scientology leader David Miscavige’s wife who hasn’t been seen in public for years.

“Anyway, from ‘Top Gun: Maverick,’ please welcome Glen Powell and Jay Ellis,” Carmichael followed, introducing two Cruise co-stars.

Moments later, Shelly Miscavige was trending on Twitter.

“It’s a good thing Tom’s not here,” Ellis said. It was about something else, technically, but also not.

Later, Carmichael got in an edgy dig in at Will Smith too, saying they gave him the “Rock Hudson award for best portrayal of masculinity on television” during the commercial break.

Carmichael was the live wire that kept the otherwise typical show interesting. WHAT would he say next, everyone wondered? He made Ricky Gervais look tame. Because aside from Carmichael's go-for-broke unpredictability, the 80th Golden Globe Awards was just that: Typical.

There were truly moving moments and truly boring ones too and it stayed past its welcome and got less and less climactic as the night went on. Who made the decision to present most of the major film awards at the beginning of the show? By the time Eddie Murphy finally got his Cecil B. DeMille honor and got in his own dig at Smith, it felt as though the show was already on its fourth ending. But there were still honors, the obligatory HFPA president speech and a shouting Quentin Tarantino to come.

What do we really want in an awards show? It’s the big, existential question that doesn’t just plague the Golden Globes. A little dose of Coolidge, Regina Hall and a tipsy, hungry Mike White never hurts. But the fact remains: It’s hard to throw a comeback party on a Tuesday.

#yesthatssadirichardslove

[rodneystime]

That's it, I'm out. Lazy Daze... (at Los Angeles, California) https://www.instagram.com/p/CiqWyXeOVvV/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[nolongerwrites]

Lemme just repost this because my dumbass deleted it by accident a couple of weeks ago 💀

I know the lyrics are misplaced I’m too lazy to fix it rn

How to disappear

“Cuts on his face 'cause he fought too hard”

“I know he's in over his head”

“But I love that man like nobody can”

“He moves mountains and pounds them to ground again”

“I watched the guys getting high as they fight For the things that they hold dear”

“To forget the things they fearThis is how to disappear...”

It had been almost 4-5 years since you’d last seen him. Last you’d Seen the way he’d smile at you when you would walk in the room. The way you would wrap your arms around him from behind when you thought he least expected it, the way you’d cuddle up against him at night like it was the only way you could sleep, the addictive kisses you’d share when no one was watching.

Dazai and you were inseparable. Everyone in the port mafia knew you two were basically connected at the hip. They would talk about the way you two would sneak off and do god knows what when you were supposed to be working. But that was a long time ago. When he disappeared leaving only a note on what had happened and why he needed to leave, it felt as if your whole heart had been torn up to pieces and set on fire.

You were mad. Upset. Confused. Why didn’t he take you with him? Had everything you’d done together and the time spent with each other meant nothing?

You knew odasaku was his best friend but weren’t you also? It may have been selfish of you to think that way but After Dazai’s disappearance you fell into a deep state of depression. You became a completely different person from the way you carried yourself to the lack of sympathy for others. Everyone in the mafia stood clear of you even on assignments and in the halls of the mafias headquarters.

You killed without a second thought unlike before and It didn’t matter who it was you were interrogating, if they didn’t speak up the first time you tortured them until they spilt the info you were looking for only for you to kill them off brutally.

You had become one of the most dangerous and ruthless executives the mafia had, even chuuya wouldn’t try and mess with you.

“Cry on his shoulder 'cause life is hard”

“The waves came in over my head”

“What you been up to, my baby?”

“I haven't seen you 'round here lately “

Fast forward those painful years and here you were now, On your way to inspect a wear house down at the port that supposedly had some suspicious looking figures lurking around it.

Mori had assigned you to just take a look at take out anyone who didn’t look like his men. But

halfway there, as you were driving in one of the cars belonging to the mafia, you had gotten a call from chuuya.

You picked up your phone and answered it hoping it was just another assignment so you could go home and sleep. You were awfully exhausted.

“What’s up” you stated blankly as you turned a corner. “You might wanna come back. Mori specifically asked for you..” chuuya sounded like he was nervous to talk to you. More than normal. “I’m already half way there can’t he wait-“ you were cut off as chuuya called your name sternly.

“ we have a prisoner that needs to be interrogated, a former mafia member..” there was a pause on your end that racked his nerves to the core, yet he continued on.

“... you can probably take a guess who it is...” the car had stopped before he could even finish that sentence. Your grip on the steering wheel was insanely tight, you were surprised you hadn’t broke it already. Blank clouded eyes stared on into the empty road in front of you and as a few minutes past, you could hear chuuya clear his throat which prompted to snap you out of your daze.

“I’ll be right there.” Was all you said as you hung up and turned your car around. Something inside you said you knew exactly who it was

“All of the guys tell me lies, but you don't”

“You just crack another beer”

“And pretend that you're still here”

“This is how to disappear”

Your footsteps echoed through the hall with every slow step you took. You were full of every kind of emotion you could possibly feel. Your ability felt like it was going to erupt like a bird set free from its cage. With every new step you took, your body was telling you to go back. You wouldn’t be able to handle it. But this was the job you’ve devoted yourself to, and you weren’t going to back out now. Chuuya had warned everyone in the building before you got there so the halls were practically empty.

They’d heard the rumors about you and they didn’t dare cross your path in a situation like this. Before you knew it you were in front of the door to the dark, empty brick room used to interrogate.

You took a deep breath a few times in an attempt to calm the beast inside you. You counted to three before slowly opening the door to the room..Dazai stood there chained to the wall by his wrists, waiting for someone to walk in. Of course being dazai, he was singing some song about a double suicide. It had been a while since anyone had come down here. Worst case scenario, that short asshole Chuuya would come down and maybe give him a punch or two (or more likely try and kill him).

What he didn’t expect however, was to see your silhouette standing at the top of the stairs. The second he saw you standing there, in your black, ankle long skirt and grey ruffled blouse that slid off your shoulders exposing the skin of your collar bones and neck which was covered in black cloth like a choker, dazai felt his whole body freeze.

“This is how to disappear”

His eyes were wide with shock as you stepped foot by foot down the stairs. The black heels you were wearing clicked and echoed through the musty room. Before he knew it you were only about 3 feet in front of him.

You never lost eye contact with dazai even as you stopped directly in front of him. Nothing was said. The silence was deafening. It wasn’t until he let out a shaky breath and looked to the floor, that his smile from before returned. When he looked back up to you he could see the pain and mixed emotions behind those empty eyes.

The same eyes that would look at him lovingly the nights the both of them spent in his bed together. The same eyes that told him countless times that they’d loved him more than words could describe. The same eyes that had touched his heart like no other person could. It hurt him to see that they were so empty and clouded now. A distant gaze that would have him dead if looks could kill.

“Its been a while hasn’t it? You’ve gotten taller..” but before he could continue on about the things that had changed about you, His cheek felt like it was on fire. You were standing directly in front of him in a split second, hand colliding with his face as dark purple serpent created of smoke and poison manifested behind you standing almost 12 feet tall.

but it only stood there unmoving no matter how many times you commanded it to attack. Your hand colliding with his cheek again in a fit of rage.

Before he could even react, your knee reached his abdomen in a striking kick to the gut. Hit after hit, you kept going until you could no longer hold onto the pure raw emotion that was going through your head. And for the first time in years, Your grunting turned into sobs, and sobs into screams.

You hit him until your last punch was nothing more that a slight push. You felt weak. Tears had been streaming down onto your shirt and they wouldn’t stop. Dazai spit some blood on the floor before turning his gaze to you again. You were facing the floor as your body shook and trembled with every sob that wracked through you.

“‘it’s been a while’? ‘ITS BEEN A WHILE’??! Really dazai?! That’s ALL you have to say? After what you put me through after you left!? After everything we did?? That’s all you have to say..?!?”.

Dazais heart felt like it was shattering. When you looked back up to him he saw your puffy red eyes and face. The pain from your assaults were nothing compared to the look you were giving him as salty tears rolled down your cheeks. He said nothing.

Even as the blood from his head dripped onto the floor between you both. In almost a second, the chains and cuffed that kept him against the wall were broken and before you knew what had happened he enveloped you in what was literally was a bone crushing embrace.

You screamed and hit at him in an attempt to push him off you which only made him hold onto you tighter. The serpent faded away with his touch and disappeared into the air. You eventually stopped hitting him as your knees felt too weak to hold your body up.

You both dropped to the floor. Dazai did not once letting his grip slack, even as he carried all your weight. He buried his face into your hair as he rocked you back and forth with each cry you let out.

It wasn’t until you slowly put your hands on his back did you feel his own tears fall onto your shoulder. “I’m so sorry... I’m so so sorry...” dazais voice was barely a whisper in your ear. “I loved you so much dazai... I loved you more than anything... why didn’t you take me with you...?” you gripped his coat as you continued to cry in his arms.

“I’m sorry...”

“The California sun and the movie stars”

“I watched the skies getting light as I write As I think about those years”

“As I whisper in your ear”

“I'm always going to be right here”

“No one's going anywhere..”

#bsd dazai #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #angst #dazai osamu #dazai x reader #BSD #bungou stray dogs #im retarded okay #idek how i deleted it #Spotify #it was one of my first works on here ik its bad

[tae-cup]

The Chief | Night Terrors (1)

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Summary: The prestigious department of police and investigations in Seoul, Korea, is called to the small town of Cape Springs in rural California. Nothing is quite what it seems here.

Warnings: Blood, violence, you know crime stuff? Fluffy stuff somehow

Genre: Mystery, Crime, Angst, a lil humor, sexual innuendos, BUT I DON’T WRITE SMUT OKAY

Word Count: 7.2k Words (Holy guacamole. This took forever to write.)

A/N: Let me know your thoughts! Any suspects? Just message me if you want to be tagged! I’m sorry there’s literally no Reader in here, but she’s coming in next chapter, I swear. No, you did not stumble upon an x OC fic, and no I did not tag this wrong, just bear with me XD. Please please read this one, it sets up some good background. 

 Thank you so much to @seokjinsultimatesimp / @kingbewwy for helping with my story planning and ideas!!

Beautiful header by the wonder @dee-ehn / @dnrequests

Other:

Series Masterlist

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       The flight was long. Long, tiring, and utterly boring. Jungkook knew he should have packed something to do on the plane. He had been dependent on the movies in first class and reclining chairs to pass the time. Well, now he was halfway through his fourth movie and sleep was nowhere in sight. Yoongi was quiet across the aisle from him and Taehyung was watching a movie next to him with some snacks he raided from the service cart. Not wanting to bother either of them for entertainment, especially Yoongi, he decided to sit in silence. The movie was getting boring so he turned it off and prayed sleep would arrive. 

It did not. 

He arrived, jet lagged and lacking 13 hours of sleep. 

“Did you sleep?” Taehyung tilted his head as they stood to collect their belongings from the baggage claim. The boy just tiredly shook his head. 

“Hah, guess we’ll have to be getting you coffee!” Seokjin chuckled, having slept most of the flight in peace. Yoongi, despite sleeping for the entire 13 hours, still looked exhausted.  The others just seemed focused on getting their luggage and leaving. They had a lot of suitcases to store their equipment. Jungkook rolled his eyes at his older counterpart.

“I’m fine.” But as he said it, a huge yawn ripped from his chest. Jin grinned, but didn’t mention it as Jungkook’s ears started turning red with embarrassment. 

“Guys, we have to get going.” Namjoon announced. 

“Aye aye, chief.” Jimin saluted cheekily. Namjoon just pressed his lips into a thin line, not amused. The younger male just sighed and nudged the police chief. “You really need to loosen up.”

“And you need to remember that we’re here to solve a murder.” 

“Even better! It’s several murders!” Taehyung chirped, earning a glare from his superior, Yoongi. 

“Aish, you kids.” Hoseok scratched his head. “You shouldn’t be excited that a bunch of people are dead.” He muttered. 

“Sorry, hyung, we just rarely get cases that Joonie agrees to investigate. How else am I supposed to keep up with Yoongi if I never get any experience?” Taehyung glared right back at Yoongi. The older man muttered something under his breath and dragged the younger away by his collar. 

“Where are they going?” Jungkook raised an eyebrow. He was still trying to get used to the group dynamics and while he wasn’t entirely innocent, he tried to fill up that role in the meantime. The other members looked at each other, sharing a knowing smile. 

“Oh, don’t worry about it, Kookie.” Jimin winked. “He’s probably...teaching Taehyung his place.” 

“Oh…” Jungkook tilted his head, trying to make the connections. “So like yelling? Hyung could’ve just done it here. I mean, he does that all the time!” 

Jimin exchanged a look with Jin. Jin shook his head, Jimin smiled. 

“Kookie, no, Yoongi’s going to-”

“Oh my god, he’s too innocent.” Jin cried, rushing to cover the maknae’s ears. 

“Too innocent for what?” A lazy drawl came across the group, making Jin and Jimin jump. Namjoon chuckled and Hoseok pretended to be distracted on his phone, only stealing a quick glance up. 

     Yoongi’s hair was messy, as if hands ran through them several times. His lips were swollen and he had a large dark spot on his neck, which he quickly covered with his shirt collar when he saw them staring. Taehyung trailed behind him, dazed. He looked relatively the same. Jungkook jumped into action, shoving Jin away. 

“Oi! Yoongi-hyung, I know you wanted to teach Tae a lesson, but isn’t that too rough?!” He shouted pointing at the other’s ‘bruise’. Hoseok began giggling and Yoongi turned impossibly red. 

“Oh yeah, he taught me a lesson for sure.” Taehyung chuckled. Jungkook gaped, eyes flicking between the two. 

“But he didn’t need to beat you up! Why are your lips swollen and there’s obviously a bruise on your neck!” 

      Yoongi began laughing softly and Taehyung’s ears went red. Namjoon sighed and dragged Jin over to help load the car. Hoseok was quick to follow, leaving Jimin to watch the scene unfold. 

“We didn’t beat each other up.” Yoongi explained with a grin. 

“So someone else did?!” Jungkook’s nostrils flared with anger. “Where?!” 

“Slow down, coffee boy.” Taehyung said, amused by his younger friend. “You wouldn’t be able to fight anyone off.” 

“Okay fine, but I could hold my own!” 

The two began to open their mouths to respond when Namjoon shouted at the remaining four. 

“Get over here! We’ve got a long ride.” 

Jungkook rubbed his temples, scrunching his eyebrows up in distress. “Fine, I’ll drop it, but you better tell me soon.” He said in a huff and stomped off to the van, leaving Jimin, Yoongi, and Taehyung to burst out laughing while the youngest pretended not to hear them.

       The town of Cape Springs was old. Old as in ‘stuck in a total time warp’ old. It looked like nothing had been updated since 1950. The van felt out of place, despite the various modern vehicles littering the road. Main street was all one story, one street. The boys looked peered curiously out the windows. The town could be considered charming if it weren’t for the murders happening every Saturday. 

        A stomach growled from somewhere in the van and it set everyone else off. 

“You know, I’m kinda hungry, Joonie.” Taehyung said. “I missed breakfast on the plane.” He complained. 

“Yeah, me too.” Yoongi agreed reluctantly. 

“You slept the entire time, you lazy ass. What are you even using all that energy for?” Hoseok snorted. 

“Thinking, you dumbass.” Yoongi retorted. “Unlike what you do all day, I actually use my brain.” 

“Sure thing, Mr. Head Investigator.” Hoseok said, clearly annoyed by his comments. 

“Yoongi and Taehyung aren’t the only ones.” Namjoon finally gave in, tired of listening to them bicker. It often felt like babysitting children and not a team of well trained detectives, investigators, and policemen.

       Then there was the actual child of the group, 24 year old Jungkook. He was far too innocent for someone of that age, to his hyungs, having grown up around the protective nature of the other boys. Jin pulled into an open spot and parked the car. Taehyung and Jimin threw open the door, rushing to get outside and tumbling out in a heap. The other men chuckled at their antics. 

“You clumsy idiots!” Yoongi reprimanded, climbing out and helping them up nonetheless. Taehyung rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. Jimin just pouted. The townspeople passing by were quiet, eyes trying not to stare at the obvious newcomers. 

“Let’s go to this diner.” Namjoon said, pointing to a faded sign that read Betty’s Diner. Jin’s eyes surveyed the street. Despite their being people with modern clothing and devices, it still felt like they were transported back to the 1950s. 

“It’s not like there’s much of an option.” Jungkook pointed out, gesturing around the small mainstreet. It was either Betty’s Diner or Isabella’s Ice Cream Parlour and there was only one that held savory food. Jimin, Taehyung, Jungkook, and Hoseok fought to get through the doorway at the same time, earning an annoyed look from the locals inside. 

“Great, we’re making such a nice first impression.” Yoongi mused, gazing at the four men arguing at the door. Namjoon tried to soothe the wrinkles between his brow as he nodded along. 

“You guys are going to give me wrinkles before I’m 40.” The police chief sighed. 

         When they could finally sit, they were put at a table in the back. The diner had to move several tables and chairs together in order to accommodate. As they ordered, they didn’t even notice the dirty looks they were getting. Seven new, rowdy, men have arrived in town. That could only mean trouble. 

“I do not snore.” Namjoon said, offended. 

“You do too!” Jin fired back. “I sat next to you for 13 hours and god knows how many nights I’ve spent in your-” 

“That’s enough!” He cried, exasperated. The poor man was always under scrutiny from his partners. He loved them all dearly, but dear god it could be a lot to handle. Jin frowned and huffed, looking away. 

“One order of french toast and orange juice.” A waiter interrupted, tone harsh. The group turned to him, surprised. The name tag read ‘Hak-kun’. 

“Here.” Taehyung raised his hand awkwardly after a brief silence. The waiter let out an annoyed sigh and practically threw the plate down with the glass. 

     Taehyung cautiously pulled the plate toward him and the other men eyed Hak-kun. The waiter stormed away without another word. The cook was watching him, everyone in the diner was watching him. There was muffled shouting and next thing they see is Hak-kun is when he’s leaving, throwing his uniform apron onto the ground in frustration. The locals stared before going into a muttering frenzy. Anger issues….always fired...psycho...etc etc.

“Should I have gotten pancakes instead?” Taehyung asked after a tense silence. Yoongi narrowed his eyes. 

“Obviously. Who eats french toast for lunch?” He scoffed. 

“Pancakes aren’t exactly a lunch food either.” Jin piped up. 

“But at least they fit into a category.” Yoongi started, ready to rant. “They know their place. They’re a breakfast food! French toast is like in mealtime limbo. Nobody ever wants french toast just for breakfast; they can also have it for lunch and dinner!” 

     Jimin was in a fit of laughter at the usually subdued man’s outburst. 

“Think they poisoned it?” Jungkook playfully nudged Taehyung who grumbled something under his breath. It sounded an awful lot like ‘They might’ve’. Lunch continued as normal. Yoongi sat in silence for the rest of the time while Taehyung, Jungkook, and Jimin made the group laugh with their antics. 

        The police station was dusty. Old and dusty, looking like a ghost town. Namjoon peered inside, glancing around to see a bored desk attendant. He waved, but the attendant even spare him a glance. Jin cleared his throat. The attendant jumped, looking up with dazed eyes. 

“Oh, hello? Has there been an emergency?” He asked with a questioning gaze. The seven men shifted awkwardly. 

“Uh, hello, we’re from the Bangtan police department. Were you not expecting us? We can come back at another time-” Namjoon began and the man quickly stood. 

“No! Not at all! Sorry, it’s been slow recently.” 

The men exchanged glances. 

“But...there have been a lot of murders recently, have there not?” Yoongi tilted his head. The man was sweating and they couldn’t tell if it was because it was hot or because he was guilty of something. Of course, Yoongi and Taehyung tended to intimidate people, it was part of their job, so that could also be the issue. 

“Yes! That’s why you’re here. Uh, I’ll grab the chief.” The man quickly left, rushing into the back. He opened a door into the backroom and loud talking could be heard before it was muffled once more by the door. 

      Namjoon looked lazily down at his watch, Jungkook tapped his foot nervously, Yoongi was whispering with Taehyung, Jimin was giggling about something with Hoseok, and Jin kept his eyes trained on the door. 

      A pudgy man walked through the door, a faded blue officer uniform on. He took in the men standing in his station, then looked uneasily back at the attendant. They exchanged looks and then the attendant scurried back to the desk, shrinking in his seat. The chief smiled at the men. 

“Hello boys!” He said cheerfully. “Welcome, welcome! When did you get in?” He ushered them into the back where there were empty desks lined up next to each other. Dust hung in the air, only seen in the thin streams of light coming through the slats in the windows. 

“We arrived a few hours ago, we ate at Betty’s Diner.” Namjoon said. The others nodded along with the statement. The police chief’s eyes sparkled. 

“Ah, great food yeah?” 

“Definitely!” Taehyung piped up, only to be nudged hard by Yoongi. Despite being part of Yoongi’s investigative team, he had trouble reading the room. The chief seemed cheerful but there was an odd cloud of tension. 

“What’s your name, sir?” Namjoon cut in. 

“Oh right, you can call me Officer Nam.” He held out his hand and Jin reached forward, shaking it. 

“Officer Kim Seokjin, but I go by Jin.” Jin introduced himself. 

“You can call me Namjoon.” The younger man smiled, taking Officer Nam’s hand after Jin and gave him a firm shake. Before the office could respond, the other men were taking his hand, shaking it and introducing themselves. 

“Officer Min, head of investigations.” 

“Oh don’t mind the grump, I’m Officer Kim, but just call me Taehyung. This dumbo is Yoongi.” The energetic man shook Officer Nam’s hand several times excitedly. 

“Hoseok.” The other officer was formally trained. He gave Nam a firm handshake, his grip like iron. 

“I’m Jimin, pleasure to meet you sir.” The smaller man smiled widely. Officer Nam returned the smile warily. “That’s Jungkook.” He nodded towards the younger boy who had fallen silent. “He’s training with us, he’s mostly here to observe the process.” 

“Sorry, we can be a bit much in the beginning.” Jin said. It didn’t take a detective to see that Officer Nam was overwhelmed. 

“Oh it’s quite alright. There hasn’t been much we’ve been able to figure out much information with these murders. People are on edge, ya know? They clam up, won’t talk much.” Officer Nam explained. “We often leave it to our intern to handle public affairs, she’s more versed in...talkin’ to people.” 

“Intern?” Jungkook raised an eyebrow, speaking for the first time. The officer seemed surprised to see him standing there, but nodded nonetheless. 

“She’s studyin’ to be an interrogation officer and needs some experience with a more experienced crew than us. The town is usually quiet.” 

“I see.” Namjoon murmured. 

“She won’t get in yer way!” Nam exclaimed, shaking his head. “She’s just a little shy.” 

“Where is she?” Yoongi furrowed his eyebrows. 

“Well, she should be clocking in right about...now.” The office glanced at his watch. As if on cue, the door squeaked open. 

“Officer Nam? I’m here!” A soft voice called into the station. The men whirled around to see a small girl. She looked almost fragile with dark hair and a lithe frame. She looked startled to see the seven brooding men. “Sorry!” She squeaked, ready to flee the room. 

“Actually!” Officer Nam interrupted, halting her in her tracks. “Come here, I want to introduce you to Bangtan Police.” 

       She tentatively walked in. She looked like prey walking into a lion’s den; and she could’ve been with the way they were looking at her.

“Yes?” She shakily pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. 

“This is Namjoon, Jin, Yoongi, Taehyung, Hoseok, Jimin, and Jungkook. They’re from The Bangtan Police Department and I’d like you to spend the remaining time in your work study with them to help solve this case.”

“W-why?” She turned, alarmed, to look at her superior. 

“Because they have much more experience and you haven’t gotten much experience with us here.” He explained, his gaze filled with something akin to fatherly love. “Now, introduce yourself.” He nudged her towards them. 

      The girl looked up hesitantly. Her gaze flickered away quickly, despite the encouraging smiles on their faces. 

“I’m Hae-won.” She murmured. “It’s a pleasure to meet you and I hope we can work well together.” 

     The boys were already swooning, hearts beating loudly. Once the chief left to discuss details with Namjoon, the boys split off to look around. Jungkook immediately took a place next to Hae-won. 

“Hey, Hae-won.” He grinned. She flushed and looked away. He was reminded of Y/N, but Hae-won was 10x shyer it seemed. “Wanna show me around?” 

“Uh, yeah, sure.” Her voice was barely a whisper. 

“Now come on, how are you going to be an interrogation officer if people can barely hear you? Speak up.” He teased. Hae-won looked up startled, eyes wide. 

“Oh right, yeah, that.” She murmured, more to herself than anything, but Jungkook heard it. 

“Do you not want to be an interrogation officer? That’s perfectly fine, y’know?” Jungkook paid no mind to her confused expression. “It’s not perfect for everyone.” 

“Hm.” She didn’t seem amused, just lost in thought. She seemed to notice the awkward pause, however, because she tugged on his arm. “Right, let me show you my favorite part of this station!” 

        As Jungkook was dragged away, Yoongi spoke with Jin. 

“The people here are...odd.” the paler man spoke. 

“It’s a small town, Yoongles.” Jin said.

“I guess...and don’t call me that.” 

“What?”

“Yoongles.” The man scoffed. Jin swatted his arm. 

“Now, is that anyway to talk to your hyung?” The older man teased. 

    In the corner, Taehyung and Jimin were looking around the empty station. 

“Where is everyone?” Taehyung scrunched his nose, trying not to sneeze as a plume of dust flew into his face. Jimin ran his finger along the edge of a desk, tilting his head as he looked at the fine layer of grime on his finger. 

“Not sure. Maybe it’s just an off day.” Jimin shrugged, wiping his finger off on his pants. 

“I mean, why have all these desks if you don’t use them?” 

“Hae-won suggested we get them.” Officer Nam said, arms crossed as he appeared in the doorway. Taehyung jumped, goosebumps running up his arms as Jimin tapped his foot nervously. 

“Why?” The detective asked. 

“She said ‘just in case’.” The officer mimicked the young girl. They surveyed the room. Eight desks. 

“Hm. Interesting.” 

Officer Nam just shrugged nonchalantly. “That girl can be a little weird sometimes. She’s too eager, too soft for this line of work.”

“I’m sure she’ll get the hang of it.” Taehyung suddenly felt the need to defend the poor girl. Officer Nam’s lips slid into a sleazy grin. 

“I see.” He said. 

“Let’s split up.” Namjoon announced upon arrival. The alleyway was in a rather shady part of the town. There was fresh blood on the stones, a smear on the pavement, an arc of blood across the wall. None of them even flinched, not even Hae-won. 

“I’ll take Yoongi, Taehyung, and Jimin.” Jin said. “Let’s look over the crime scene.” 

        Taehyung nodded, pulling out his camera to take pictures. Yoongi crouched near the blood smear on the pavement and Jimin wandered around, handing them gloves and then running his hands over every seam in the wall. 

        Namjoon took Hae-won, Hoseok, and Jungkook to interview witnesses and the surrounding townspeople. 

        Jimin knelt on the ground, hand running over a soft texture. Curious, he carefully picked up the object. In his hand was a soft tie, one that looked oddly familiar. He lifted it to the air, examining it in the fading sunlight. It looked new, not exactly a week old. It was possible that it was planted there, but he needed to bring it in nonetheless. The pink haired man took out a ziploc bag and placed the tie inside of it before sealing it up once more. 

“Who was the victim and how was she found?” Hoseok asked, holding a notepad and pen. Officer Nam scratched his head for a minute before walking over to the spot. 

“Right here.” He gestured to where a pool of blood was at the end of the blood streak. “She was leanin’ up against this wall, throat slit as y’know.” 

“Mhm.” There was the scratch of the cheap pen against the notepad as Hoseok wrote down his words. “What was her name?” 

“Mun-hee.” 

“Great. Thank you for your cooperation, if you have any further information, please do tell us.” Hoseok dipped his head. Hae-won observed from a distance, standing next to Namjoon as he explained the process to her. 

“So Hoseok here is going to ask the most important question first and then go on to specifics. Pleasantries aren’t too necessary until the end. He’ll close with a polite statement and leave.” The chief said as they watched the interaction. “In fact, here he comes now.” 

Hoseok waved at the two and winked at Hae-won. “Didya learn anything?” 

“Uh, yeah.” Hae-won smiled anxiously under his gaze and he laughed. Namjoon pulled at them to regroup with the others as night drew nearer. 

     The next day, they decided to have a formal meeting to discuss the situation. 

“So, we have Mun-hee, killed and placed in the exact same way as Jane Doe.” Jin laid out the facts. “She even looked a bit like Jane Doe. Were they relatives?” 

“No.” Hoseok shook his head. 

“I found a tie at the scene.” Jimin held up the plastic bag. Hae-won looked on curiously. Now Jimin had their attention. “It looks familiar, I just can’t put my finger on it.” 

“That’s from Betty’s Diner.” Hae-won interrupted. “I recognize it and I think it’s Hak-kun’s.” 

“Why?” Namjoon turned to look at the small girl. She pressed her lips into a thin line. 

“Well, he didn’t show up for work so I’m guessing he quit. He called me before that to say he lost his tie and broke down because his boss scolded him for forgetting to wear it.” She mused to herself before straightening again. “Those are just speculations.” 

       The chief of Bangtan smiled at her with a nod of approval. Even Yoongi quirked an eyebrow, Taehyung mimicked his expression. She was wary of the two of them. It always felt like they could see right through her. 

“Listen, it’s Friday. The killer strikes again tomorrow and if it’s Hak-kun, then we need to bring him into custody.” Yoongi said factually. 

“Are you seriously going to gamble people’s lives? What if it’s not him? Then we have no one watching out for the killer because we’re all trying to watch him.” Hoseok looked appalled at the suggestion. 

“Listen, I’m fine with that. We could see if there’s a pattern.” Yoongi shrugged. 

“There are people’s lives at risk here!” Hoseok shouted, slamming a fist onto the table. The other members jumped, surprised to see Hoseok so worked up.

“Jeez, you cops always get so worked up about people’s lives.” Yoongi said with a groan. 

“You’re technically a cop too, ya know?” The man sighed and slouched in his chair, defeated. 

“He has a point.” Taehyung piped up, earning a glare from his mentor. Instead of cowering back, as per usual, he jutted out his chin and continued. “Besides, don’t you think these murders are just too...delicate? Too well thought out for someone who’s doing this simply out of a moment of anger.” 

“We still can’t discount the fact that his tie was found at the crime scene. That’s damning evidence.” Jin jumped in. 

         There was a tense silence, Yoongi and Taehyung exchanging warring glares and Jin now staring intensely at Hoseok. A muscle in Taehyung’s jaw twitched uncontrollably. Namjoon’s gaze swept the room before he slowly stood, hands pressing to the table. 

“I say we bring him in for questioning. We don’t have to guard him if we just put him in a cell overnight.” He said, trying to reach a conclusion both sides would agree with. Jimin, who hadn’t spoken his opinion, just watched as the team was already divided. 

“Doesn’t it feel like the killer is toying with us?” He murmured, but with the silence in the room, everyone heard. 

“What do you mean by that, Jiminie?” Hoseok turned his attention away from Jin. His movement stirred the other members to look at him, Hae-won remained silent. 

“Mun-hee is found in the exact same situation as Jane Doe, as if the killer expected us and wanted to put on a show. A show of power. They’re saying ‘look, I did it once, I can do it again, and stump you every time.’ A subtle fuck you.” Jimin’s eyes darkened. The other men visibly stiffened, looking around nervously. 

“But how would they know?” Namjoon asked. 

“Small town, word spreads fast.” Taehyung said dryly. 

“That doesn’t narrow anything down.” Jin sighed, running a hand down his face in exasperation. 

“Well, actually,” Jungkook piped up. The attention turned to him and he swallowed, suddenly nervous. “Eye witness accounts say they saw a ‘strange man’ walking around.” He spoke, tapping his pen against the notepad in front of him. They pondered over this discovery. 

“Hak-kun fits that.” Taehyung muttered, saying what was on the others’ minds. 

“Just because he’s a man?” Hae-won scoffed, a sudden hard tone to her voice that had Jungkook turning to look at her, surprised. She quickly cleared her throat, returning to the quiet voice she usually had. “I mean, I just, I don’t know if that’s enough information, but with his tie, I think it’s a good idea to investigate him.”

“Right.” Namjoon nodded, rubbing his chin with his fingers. “Well, we’ll bring him in, get a warrant for his arrest, there’s substantial evidence, and interview him. Any objections?” 

       The six men’s eyes scanned the room before they all nodded. They waited, staring expectantly at Hae-won. She flushed a bright red from being thrusted into the spotlight. 

“Y-yeah. That sounds great.” She said, her voice barely above a whisper. They all smiled fondly at her.

“Saturday, the countdown begins.” Jin mused, picking up his watch from his bedside table. 

“You’re setting a bad example, joking about these murders.” Namjoon sighed, rolling over, throwing an arm around the older man. The tips of Jin’s ears went red, goosebumps rolling up and down his body. 

“Joonie, some people have a sense of humor.” He snorted, turning over to face the man next to him. He placed his hands on either side of Namjoon’s face and slowly leaned in. The chief met the distance, lips brushing Jin’s. Then the chief smiled, pulling away to look at his second in command. He loved this man. 

“I have a great sense of humor, I fell in love with you after all.” 

“I don’t know if I should be offended or touched by your proclamation of love.” Jin huffed, shifting to sit up, hotel blankets pooling around his waist. 

“You’re unfair, Jin.” Namjoon murmured. “So handsome and, fuck.” He sighed, obviously conflicted. 

“We already know I’m the handsomest, Joonie.” 

“But how did you end up with a mess like me? Sometimes you handle the children better than me, and I’m supposed to be the police chief!” 

“They just need a little mothering. And don’t underestimate yourself, I’m sure a person like Y/N would throw herself at you if she got the chance, if that’s what you’re concerned about.” Jin laughed, getting up and pulling on his suit. 

        It was sort of a uniform, black linen pants and a white button up. This was paired with a navy blue suit jacket that had his badge in the pocket. He went to the bathroom to comb his hair and brush his teeth, mumbling something about there being a lack of room service at this motel. Namjoon just chuckled at his grumbling and got dressed as well. He wore black pants, like Jin, and a white button up shirt, except his suit jacket was a faded brown. 

“You always bring up Y/N, it’s almost like you like her too.” Namjoon pointed an accusing finger at his partner. 

“And what if I did?” 

“Well it would be unfair because I met her first.” 

“You can’t just claim women, Joonie.” He rolled his eyes and opened the heavy hotel room door. 

“I’ll do what I want.”

“You say that now, but we all know she has you whipped.” 

“Who has who whipped?” Jungkook’s curious voice echoed through the hallway. Jin spun on his heel to face the maknae. 

“Now look what you’ve done.” Jin glared at Namjoon who just shrugged innocently. 

“I’m just kidding.” Jungkook sighed. “I’m not as innocent as you guys think I am.” He wandered down the stairs, finally getting tired of acting dumb, the Chief and Second in Command now following him. 

“Elaborate.” Namjoon demanded. 

“Oh please, you guys actually bought that I was that oblivious?” He sat down, ignoring the other men at the table whose conversation came to a halt at the sight of them. 

“Well, I-” Jin’s face was red. 

“Come on, I know Taehyung and Yoongi are practically eye fucking each other every minute and quite literally fucking each other every night. Please keep it down guys.” The youngest pointed a finger at the two men sitting next to each other. They looked away with a huff, but their faces were red. 

“And You two.” He turned to Namjoon and Jin. “You make me sick, really. You’re so cute and reliable. Then you go and flaunt your cuteness to everyone. We all see it! Hoseok and Jimin-guys, just ask each other out already!” 

      There was a long silence. Jungkook shrunk back in his seat, bravado gone, now worried he took it a little too far. 

“Kookie, you’re not aware of the full story here.” Namjoon chuckled after a tense moment, the noise echoed by the other men at the table.

“You really want to tell him?” Jin eyed Joon warily. 

“It’s time he knows.” Taehyung sighed. 

“What? Know what?” Jungkook felt the bubble of envy in his stomach. They kept so many things from him; little secret, jokes. One time they forgot to invite Jungkook to his own surprise party. 

“Well,” Jimin reached out and grabbed Namjoon’s hand. “We’re actually...all together already.” 

“Oh.” The younger’s voice was soft, trying not to betray the emotions flowing through him. They were all dating? And without him? Was he fucking seventh wheeling??? “Without me?” He furrowed his eyebrows. 

      Jin started laughing his windshield wiper laugh as Hoseok smiled. Taehyung and Yoongi exchanged glances. 

“That was an unexpected answer.” Yoongi muttered under his breath. 

“That’s what we wanted to talk about this morning.” Jimin said soothingly, touch relaxing Jungkook easily. “We want you to join us.” 

“R-really?” 

“Yes.” Taehyung nodded quickly. 

“Is that a yes?” Hoseok asked, watching Jungkook’s mouth open and close. The sounds of the guests around him went underwater. He couldn’t hear anything, emotions spiraling out of control. All six of them? It was insane. But then he couldn’t imagine himself anywhere else. 

“Yes.” He said quietly. “Yes!” He said again, louder. Namjoon smiled, cupping his chin with his slender fingers. 

“Then, may I?” He asked for permission softly. 

        Jungkook simply nodded and Namjoon tentatively placed his lips against his. It was quick, brief, one might even think it was an accident if it hadn’t been for Namjoon’s hand on his chin. 

“Did I do something wrong?” 

“No, baby, it’s just that...this is a small town. That’s why we’re trying not to be very open.” 

“Oh, I see.” Jungkook refused to pout. He wanted to have some big romantic story, but that would have to wait. They were trying to solve a series of murders, dammit. 

“We should get going.” Yoongi glanced at his watch and the others agreed, standing and taking their suit jackets off the backs of their chairs. 

    The morning breakfast rush had dissipated, now only the metal containers of bacon and eggs left. The place was just as dusty as the police station and it made Jungkook’s nose twitch with the urge to sneeze. 

“Why is everything so dusty here?” Jimin complained, rubbing his nose with his sleeve. 

“Yeah, it’s making me-” Taehyung was interrupted by the loud sneeze that escaped his mouth. 

“Bless you.” Yoongi responded immediately, rubbing Taehyung’s back caringly.

     It was the first sign of affection Yoongi had openly given Taehyung. They were alone, for one, and for two, Taehyung seemed a little down today, just a little sad. 

“Let’s get going, Hak-kun should be in his apartment still, according to the schedule Hae-won gave us.” Jin checked his phone to pull up the screenshot. 

“Why does she have his schedule?” Jimin asked innocently. 

“It’s a small town, who knows?” Yoongi pressed his lips into a thin line. 

Knock knock knock. Namjoon waited patiently, his partners waiting near the car so as to not scare Hak-kun off. There was the sound of footsteps and a loud groan. The door opened a crack, stopped by the chain inside. 

“Who are you?” The voice was gruff. 

“I’m Kim Namjoon from the Bangtan Police Department. I’d like to ask you a few questions regarding the murders of Jane Doe, Mun-hee, and others.” 

“Okay one second.” The voice was more awake this time as he shut the door. The chain rattled on the other side and then the door opened fully. A man stood in clothes that looked like he’d slept in them. Namjoon immediately recognized him as their rude waiter. 

“Had a rough night?” He tried to be pleasant. 

“Yeah, slept in the car again. The damn heater broke in my apartment.” The man grumbled, stepping aside to let him in. When Namjoon walked in, already tense, his eyes had to adjust to the darkness. 

      Despite the thin streams of light shining through the slats in his windows, the room was in utter darkness. As he adjusted, he could make out piles of clothing on the floor, dishes in the sink, unwashed, and cups littering the floor. There was also an odd assortment of broken items in the corner of the room, hidden in the darkness. 

      It looked like someone threw a rager in this house and then left. The brown haired police chief was surprised anyone could be this messy. Like, he was messy, yes, but he would never let himself degenerate to this state. 

“What do you need to know?” Hak-kun somehow found a place to sit on the couch, but it had a dent carved in it and Namjoon was sure that was the only place you could sit on that couch. 

“Actually, we have a warrant for your arrest due to substantial evidence implicating you in the murder of Mun-hee.” Namjoon dug around his pockets and took out the papers. 

“Oh, I see.” Hak-kun’s eyes didn’t quite meet Namjoon’s. He looked around, jaw clenching in signs of annoyance. 

“What’s that?” The chief asked, pointing to the broken objects in the corner of the room. The man’s nostrils flared in anger. 

“I just get mad sometimes and things happen, okay?” He snapped. “I’ll go with you willingly, I have nothing to hide.” Hak-kun stood and dusted off his pants, though they were already dirty with food stains. 

Namjoon grimaced and nodded, in a hurry to leave the dirty apartment. 

Audio recording #1:

MYG: Is it alright if we record this?

HK: Yeah, it’s fine. 

MYG: Great, okay, please tell us how you are connected to Mun-hee. 

HK: Mun-hee...ah, Mun-hee. We went to school together. Wait, can I get a glass of water or something? I have a splitting headache. 

MYG: Of course. 

KTH: So you knew her?

HK: Hah, well, we grew up together.  It was often just us, this stupid town, the old schools. A lot of kids come here because it’s the closest school around these parts, but only a couple actually live here. 

MYG: Who else lives here?

HK: Hm, there was me, Mun-hee, Joo-Eun, and another girl, her name is slipping my mind. 

KTH: You grew up with these people, though, how do you not know their names?

HK: She was always easily forgettable. She’s not much trouble though, I remember her being a nice girl...until, nevermind.

MYG: Until what?

HK: It’s not my place to say. 

KTH: Well it would do you good to say it.

MYG (muffled): Taehyung get it together. 

HK: I don’t want to talk about it. 

MYG: That’s alright, Hak-kun, I can call you that, right?

HK: Yeah. 

MYG: What do you remember about last saturday? 

HK: Not much. I remember I drank some weird shit at the party-

MYG: The same one Mun-hee went to?

HK: Yes. 

MYG: And why were you there, Hak-kun. 

HK: Mun-hee is, was, my friend, sir. I would never do anything to hurt her, if that’s what you’re wondering. Listen, I know you guys are trying your best, but just drop it. I have nothing to do with it. That tie went missing long before Mun-hee’s body was found. I’ve obviously been framed and you stupid ass-

MYG: Okay, I think that’s enough for today. Thank you for coming, Sir. Please calm down or we’ll be forced to detain you. 

HK: DON’T TELL ME TO CALM DOWN, ASSHO-

Beep. 

“Well that was certainly insightful.” Yoongi mumbled, glancing over to where Hak-kun sat, dejected, in his cell. Taehyung sighed and played the tape again, taking more notes of the important information along with his personal thoughts. 

“I thought you guys were supposed to be good at this.” Namjoon eyed the two with a raised eyebrow. 

“Joonie, he was a difficult person to interview. I could tell he was annoyed the entire time except when he spoke of Mun-hee.” Taehyung frowned, flipping through his notes. “Here, I wrote down ‘aggressively making eye contact and frowning.’”

“Are those seriously your notes?” Yoongi looked through his notes which were pages longer. “Do I need to train you in note taking as well?” 

“No! I just, I don’t notice as much as you, oh wise Yoongles.” Taehyung crossed his arms, pouting. Yoongi just softened his expression. 

“You can always tell me what’s wrong.” He placed a tentative hand on Taehyung’s arm. 

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything.” Hae-won’s soft voice hovered in the air. She was closing the door of the security room behind her. 

     Jin often handled the security room, but he trusted her to watch Hak-kun while he went to the bathroom. Jin slipped back in as she stepped into the room with the others. 

      Yoongi immediately dropped his hand, to the disappointment of Taehyung, and straightened. A cold look once again cast over his face. “I’m sorry, I just wanted to let you know that I have to head back early to finish up some school work.” She explained with a gentle smile. 

“Okay, rest up and study well.” Namjoon nodded and she dipped her head, heading out the door. They all stared fondly at her retreating form. “The same goes for the rest of you.” 

       They had spent all day just interviewing and wrestling answers out of Hak-kun and yet they came up empty every time. Maybe he was truly innocent and they were trying to convict a good man. This was the kind of case where things could get really messy if they kept going on intuition instead of hard facts. 

“Let’s wrap it up and head back to the hotel. Jin, are you coming?” Namjoon called as the others filed out of the station. 

“Yeah, I’m just gonna check some things and then I’ll be back in no time.” 

Trusting his second in command, Namjoon left. 

      The first sunlight was filtering through the windows of an empty cell. A glass of water was on the ground next to the cot, tipped over, the ground wet beneath it. 

“How could he have escaped? Where did he go?” 

-

Hands reached out to the unsuspecting man. 

“Do you have a headache? You look in pain.” The voice said, hiding the glinting blade in the moonlight. 

“Who are you?”

“Just a nice person. I have something that could really help.” 

“What is it?”

“Oh, just some medication for headaches. It works wonders.” 

“Pass it here.” 

The man is passed out soon enough and the shadowy figure grabs the keys off one of the hooks in the back and unlocks his cell. Then the figure dragged him out, put him in his car, slit his throat, and placed his face down at the dashboard. They were back home in 10 minutes, bloodlust satisfied. 

-

“The feed is just looping. How did I not notice this before?” Jin mumbled, head in his hands. 

“Hey, it’s okay, the killer was...tricky.” Namjoon comforted his lover. 

“Boss.” Jungkook piped up, holding a phone in the air. “It’s for you.” 

     The chief of police stood and walked over with purposeful steps. It was easy to see why he was the chief. He was sure of himself, walked with purpose, passion, and he always looked like he had a mission. 

“Mhm?” He murmured. “This is he. What? How did it get there? Okay, okay, I’ll send my best men out to investigate. Please hang in there and don’t touch anything.” He hung up, rushing to throw on his suit jacket. “Hak-kun’s body was just found.”

“Where?” Jimin stood as well and the others followed suit. 

“In his car. No one disturbed him, claimed he slept in his car all the time and no one thought much of it. It’s just...so odd.” Namjoon sighed. 

“Why?” Yoongi tilted his head. Their fearless leader wasn’t usually thrown by anything, always keeping a cool facade. But here he seemed to be cracking. 

“His car was found across town.” He raced out the door, watching the others pile in and Jin took the driver’s seat. “I just feel like this case is getting away from us. We’re obviously missing something.” The chief stared out the window, thinking intensely. The other members knew not to make too much noise. 

“Do you think...it’s time to bring someone else in?” Taehyung asked quietly. 

“What do you mean by that?” Jungkook said defensively. 

“I mean,” Taehyung shot the younger boy a look that shut him up. “That we may need more of a specialist in here. There’s one thing we haven’t been able to look at.”

“And that is?” Yoongi closed his eyes lazily as he leaned back in his seat. 

“Blood. We haven’t been able to test the blood.” 

“Well, we only know one reliable person who can do that and she’s probably very busy.” Jin scolded the younger males. “But it’s a good idea.” 

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. Let’s just take a look and then we can decide.” 

      The street they pulled up to was quiet, not a person in sight. The leaves shifted in the breeze, skittering across the ground. It made for an uneasy sight. They stepped out and Jin locked the car. 

     Jimin handed out gloves and then he went around, feeling over the creases of the blue car, completely ignoring the dead body inside. 

“Found anything interesting?” Jungkook called. 

“Nope.” Jimin responded flatly, concentrated. He peered inside, seeing the blood pooling on the dashboard and dripping into Hak-kun’s lap.

 “I think it’s definitely the same killer. He has the same neck slice.” He felt over the windows. Not a single scratch. “No signs of forced entry or struggle with the car.” He dictated as Hoseok took careful notes. 

“I see no bruising visible on the victim, wait.” He crawled onto the back of the car, peering through the back window. “I see some purple markings on the back of the victim.” 

    The shadowy figure dragged Hak-kun, his back bumping over every curve, spine taking the brunt of the blows. He moaned in pain, starting to stir. The figure panicked. They need to get this over with quickly. 

“Anything else?” Hoseok asked. 

“No, I’d have to see the inside.” Jimin sighed, brushing some hair out of his face. 

“We’ll see what we can do to get the keys.” Namjoon nodded at Hoseok to write that down. 

“This case has me stumped, Namjoon. Obviously, the killer must be drugging them, how else can they get away with all this with no struggle?” Jimin stretched his arms. 

“It’s confusing to me too, but I’m sure we’ll find out something soon enough.” 

“Namjoon, I think we all know who we need to call.” Yoongi set a firm hand on Namjoon’s shoulder and the police chief’s shoulders drooped. 

“But I don’t want to bother her, besides I think we can figure it out, right?” 

“This is her job, It’s time to man up and call Y/N.”

A/N p.2: Hey guys! Let me know if you’d like to be tagged!! Any predictions yet? I’m sorry this took so long, I was in a creative block

Other: 

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#bts #bts x reader #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook #OT7 x reader #Jin x reader #namjoon x reader #yoongi x reader #hoseok x reader #jimin x reader #taehyung x reader #jungkook x reader #murder mystery #mystery #tatawrites #Night Terrors #angst #fluff

[bigmeatpete69420]

Turn up fucking Tuesday

#silky smooth music #bigmeatpeteplaylist #language arts crew #Spotify

[areiton]

‘tis the damn season - stony

Yes, definitely inspired by Taylor Swift’s evermore, this won’t be the last but here is my first. Enjoy! 

Read on AO3 

~*~ 

You get the phone call when you’re walking to class. Your fingers are cold and chapped and you think you might have left your gloves at Sam’s place. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” Tony purrs and you stumble over a step. “I’ll be at my parents all month. If you wanna see me.” 

You swallow hard, and your whole body feels numb, and you think that’s not because of the cold.

“Yeah,” you hear yourself say. “I--yeah.” 

~*~ 

The first time you fuck Tony Stark, the leaves are falling and the air smells like bonfires and the first snow of the year. You’re sweaty from the championship game and he’s grinning at you when he goes to his knees behind the bleachers of a now deserted field and sucks you off like he’s done it a thousand times, his eyes bright shining in the dark and when you kiss him as you groan and sink into his tight warm body, he tastes like your cum and popcorn. 

~*~ 

Tony is waiting when you pull up, nose red and bundled in a heavy coat, and his eyes are laughing as he slides into the seat next to you. “Thought you wanted to trade this in, Steve,” he teases, and it doesn’t sting the way it does when it’s Sam, because Tony has never understood your life--you think maybe if he did, you could have more than stolen moments on deserted streets, hiding in plain sight before he vanishes back to his life in California, to the hungry cameras and the pretty faces that always want more. 

“It’s alright,” you murmur and his fingers, icy cold and so damn real it drives out the thought that this is just a daydream--your favorite daydream--twist with yours. “When do you have to be back?” 

He smiles. “Not til tomorrow night.” 

You lean over and kiss him, fleeting and chaste, a brush of scruff against cool chapped lips, and then pull back and hold his hand in yours as you drive home. 

~*~ 

He still fits. 

In your messy apartment, with Alpine perched on his knee, and a cracked mug in his hand, chattering about a new part he’s taken. 

In your messy sheets, sprawled naked and beautiful in the lowlight, eyes fixed on you as you strip and crawl over him, moaning at the feel of his skin. 

In your body, thrusting hard while you curse, fists caught in the sheets and his teeth dug into your skin, a biting kiss that’s driving you crazy. 

In your arms, after, when he curls sleepy and warm and sated, and there’s no need for words about a life you can’t share and the question you won’ let yourself ask. 

In your heart and you don’t let yourself think about that, not even here, not even in the quiet of your own mind. 

He still fits. 

~*~ 

The first time you realize you love Tony Stark, it’s in a springtime rain and he’s laughing, jumping in mud puddles in a tux so expensive you didn’t realize people actually made clothes that cost that much. His hair is dripping in his eyes and his mouth is red and wet and open in laughter, raw and unguarded, the kind of real that he never lets the hungry cameras see, the kind of real and unguarded you are getting more and more. 

He’s the brightest thing in a grey day, and your heart twists, squeezes, turns over and you realize abruptly that he’s got the whole damn thing in his hand, that your his, that you love him. 

He smiles, and holds out a hand and you kiss him in the pouring rain, mud on your fingers and his laughter on your lips. 

~*~ 

You wake up to this: 

Tony’s hair, fluffy and unruly, tickling your chin, his breath warm puffs against your skin, his leg tossed over yours. 

Tony’s hands gripping yours and winter weak sunlight casting him pale and golden in your dark sheets. 

Tony’s smile, sweet and sleepy, tilting up at you, a thousand times more beautiful than the smiles you see shining up from magazine covers and your shitty broken phone screen. 

You wake to Tony in your bed and not just your dreams, and you kiss him and steal a picture, because this is precious, this time you hoard and treasure, and he laughs into your mouth, sleepy and pliant and the warmest thing in the bitter cold. 

~*~ 

You roll out of bed and snag your boxers while Tony makes unhappy noises in your sheets, languorous and lazy stated. 

He looks like a satisfied kitten, half inclined to sleep, and you brush a kiss over his lips before you wander out to make coffee. 

There’s a note from Bucky, and you pour Alpine some kibble and text him your thanks, and then retreat back to your bedroom, goosebumps pebbling your skin. 

Tony is still in bed, but the sheets have been kicked aside, and his pale skin has a pretty flush to it, mouth hanging open as he pants and fucks himself on three fingers. 

You almost drop the coffee, and it’s forgotten when he says, “C’mere.” 

You grip his hips and fight to keep your eyes open, basking in the heat of him around you, and the sight of him riding you, the sweat beading his lip and the dazed pleasure in his pretty eyes and the way his kiss bitten lips mouth your name. 

When he comes, it’s screaming and you fall over the edge with him, spilling hot and wet in his body and in this little haven, it feels like the world and winter can never touch you. 

~*~ 

It’s a hot sweaty summer day, and Tony is naked next to you, when you realize you can never keep this. 

He’s sticky and still breathing heavy, and so fucking beautiful it makes your breath catch in your chest, like your asthma is acting up again, but it hasn’t in years--this is Tony, just him, impossible and brilliant and beautiful.

And already, looking away, gaze caught on the messages waiting for him, mind pulled by the life that’s waiting for him. 

You love him, and you know--you’ve always known--he is bigger than this little town, this tiny apartment that’s too hot in the summer and too cold in the winter, that’s he’s worth more than backseat fucks and blowjobs behind the bleachers. 

You’re sticky and breathless from your orgasm, and he’s curled in your bed and it’s so hot you can barely breath, and you love him, you love him. 

And you can’t keep him. 

~*~ 

“Let me draw you,” you say, later, after coffee and bacon, after a shower more dirty than not, when you’re too fucked out to fuck again, and he’s sprawled on your dirty rug, playing with Alpine, and the request spills out all unexpected. 

He flicks a smile at you, and reaches for your sketchbook, and you realize, abruptly, the flaw in this plan. 

Tony makes a noise, thoughtful and assessing and there’s something cool in his gaze when it flicks back to you, before he flips the pages. 

The Carter cousins. Rumlow. One that can’t be anything but Bucky’s broad shoulders. 

Even old man Fury is in there, and Tony makes a noise, something startled and amused. 

“You left,” you say, helpless. 

“I don’t care who you fuck,” Tony says, but the words ring cold and harsh in the room, the first note of dissonance, and you bite back anger, because he left you. 

“Are any of them better than me?” he asks, rolling to his side and staring up at you, the flirty smirk that you see on that fucking show that made him a household man, the one that peers up at you from glossy magazine covers. 

You shake your head, helpless. 

How could they be, when they aren’t him? 

~*~ 

He stays until the sky goes dark, until his phone rings, his mother’s voice cool and cultured and calling him away, and you watch him, as he dresses himself, as he puts on all the pieces of armor that he wears into the world that hides away the man you love. 

Because it’s how he does this--how he can give the hungry cameras and clamoring fans so much of himself. By giving them all something that’s smoke and mirrors and lies. 

You hate it, seeing him like this, distant and cool and untouchable, because this is the Tony you don’t know, that is everything you can’t have. 

When he’s like this, you can’t see a future, can’t see the what might have been that keeps you dreaming in the long seasons when he is gone. 

“Tony,” you whisper and he shivers, and comes into your arms, one last time, and he’s still beautiful, in his tux and his perfect hair and shark’s smile, but his hands are gentle on your skin, and his cock is hot and hard and he fucks you slow and sweet, syrupy kisses pressed to your lips and gasps thick in the air while you writhe on his dick and mewl for more and cling to the dream for just one second more. 

~*~ 

It’s snowing and he smells like the quick rough fuck in the back of your car, when you realize you can’t do this to yourself anymore. 

Tony is like a dream and a mirage and a hurricane--and you can’t keep him. Trying is only driving you mad, and twisting up all the good things in your life. Peggy still won’t speak to you. Bucky leaves anytime Tony comes to town and treats you like your fragile, a touch away from shattering when he inevitably leaves. 

You know he’s hurting you, that this is hurting you. But the years stretch in front of you without him, and his come-drunk smile, real and raw and unguarded flash in your mind, curl up at you from your messy sheets, and you don’t know how to say no when his voice rasps down the line and says, “I’m in town.” 

~*~ 

He leaves. 

You knew he would. Even if he’s still in town, he’s gone, slipped back into the world that he inhabits, lit up by the gaze of cameras and lights and demanding parents. 

He leaves. 

But when you’re walking, cold fingered and numb, and a car slows as it passes, you see his gaze, brown eyes dim and fixed on you, and you wonder how someone with the whole world at his feet could look so lonely and sad. 

~*~ 

You slip into the back of a waiting car, and Tony slides into your lap, his fingers cold and demanding on your skin and his kiss is hungry and desperate, begging for something he won’t put into words, not until he’s collapsed against your chest, come sliding from his body, your dick still hard in him. 

“I don’t--I’m so fucking tired,” he says, and you hold him close, his head against your shoulder. 

“Sleep, sweetheart,” you say, even though you both know he’s saying more. 

He hums, and you shift him to the spread of coats and lap blankets on the bench, curl him in your arms and warmth and let your eyes close as the snow falls beyond the windows. 

You’re dreaming, you think, when he whispers, “Ask me to stay.” 

~*~ 

It’s New Year’s and Bucky is staring at you, wide-eyed, while you watch an interview, watch Tony on your tiny cracked phone screen and he’s laughing and saying, “I don’t know. The city is great, and I love it. But there’s something to be said about finding out what’s at the end of the path not taken.” 

There is snow in the air and under your boots and he looks beautiful and he’s smiling into the camera and staring at it, staring at you, real and raw and unguarded, and saying, “I’d stay, if I had a reason to.” 

It’s New Year’s when you realize--you can keep him. 

~*~ 

There are people everywhere, the airport crowded and the air feels stale and thin and still, but you’re running, and it feels like it’s stinging your lungs too, and he’s there, with Rhodey at his side, and a leather bag over one shoulder, smiling as he signs something for a fan, and you--

“Tony!” 

His head snaps up and there’s sunshine bright hope there, and lonely winters and rainy kisses and lazy spring mornings in bed, a whole future of him, waiting hopeful. 

You don’t know how you never saw it, but you see it, now. You catch him in your arms, and he fits there, has always fit there, and his smile is small but growing, when you say, “Stay.” 

~*~ 

There is this, still-- 

Cold mornings and numb fingers on your way to class. 

Hungry cameras and demanding fans, and Tony’s face on glossy magazines. 

Coffee cold and forgotten while you fuck him in his messy sheets that slip like the softest silk against your skin. 

His eyes, bright and laughing, his smile, real and raw and unguarded, filling up pages in your sketchbook, and your mornings and your nights. 

There is still--

Quick messy blowjobs in his Mother’s guest bath, him biting cries into your suit while you finger him in the back of a limo, his body writhing on your cock in the mornings when you are warmed only by the heat of him. 

There is this--

Him, here, walking the path not taken, hand in hand with you. 

~*~ 

It’s Christmas Eve and cold and he’s been yours for a year now and he watches you open a ring on Christmas Eve, and you realize, then, that you get to keep him forever. 

#arei writes fic #stony #stony fic #superhusbands #steve rogers #tony stark #evermore #stevetony

[ffamranxii]

Haikyuu!! Couples Headcanons For That Fic I’m Never Going To Write

DAISUGA

-Gradually growing closer and developing feelings

-Suga confesses first, some time in high school

-Daichi realizes his feelings first and pines after Suga so much even Asahi is like “maybe you should just tell him?”

-Suga is a bottom with a filthy mouth; Daichi can never decide if he prefers calling the shots or being ordered around

ASANOYA

-Asahi is goddamn terrified of this crazy goblin when they first meet, while Noya thinks Asahi is the shit. Noya likes Asahi right away and declares them best friends; Asahi takes a while to warm up to Noya, falling in love first with his passion

-The aftermath of the Date Tech match is their first real fight. They make up the day Asahi steps back into the gym

-Noya confesses first and Asahi is so shocked he thinks he might pass out

-They get married in one of the countries they visit during their world tour. All their friends are mad they weren’t invited

-Asahi bottoms. Noya is, with everyone else, an impatient, obstinate fucker, but with Asahi he is slow and careful and his patience is endless. Asahi never doubts that Noya loves him

KUROKEN

-Kuroo has loved Kenma since they were seven and six years old; Kenma’s crush on Kuroo is the slow burn to end all slow burns, with him only realizing it in Kuroo’s last year of high school

-Kuroo confesses to six year old Kenma one fine sunny day, after an afternoon of video games and volleyball. Kenma does not quite understand because “we’re boys though” and also he is six

-Kenma’s crush develops so slowly he doesn’t realize it exists until he collapses after the nationals match against Karasuno and Kuroo is the first at his side. He says “thank you for getting me into volleyball,” while thinking in an exhausted daze “god I love him”

-Kuroo is a switch who likes to bottom and will do anything Kenma tells him to

IWAOI

-These two are the epitome of “cant pinpoint when I fell in love because there was never a time I wasn’t in love”

-Possibly fooled around in high school. Were definitely each other’s first kiss in middle school. Write it off as “we’re just best friends.”

-Don’t get together until after high school, when Iwaizumi realizes Oikawa is serious about going to Argentina. This becomes a long all night talk about them, their future, and what they want. Neither can imagine a future without the other in it

-Oikawa asks Iwaizumi to go to Argentina with him. Iwaizumi says he can’t just mooch off Oikawa, he needs his own life. Iwaizumi says he’s going to California to study, “and then I’ll be your team’s personal trainer.”

-The plan was to eventually return to Japan together, but one lazy Argentinian morning after the Japan vs Argentina match Iwaizumi says, “you know what I can do in Argentina that I can’t in Japan? Marry you.”

-Oikawa is a bottom who cries during sex; Iwaizumi is a top and a bit of a dom, but he enjoys Oikawa tying him up and domming him occasionally

BOKUAKA

-Love at first sight (sort of). Bokuto decides Akaashi is his one and only after the very first spike he hits off Akaashi’s toss. Akaashi falls head over heels in the span of a week

-Neither of them say anything to avoid ruining their friendship, until one day Bokuto goes fuck it yolo, kisses Akaashi on the mouth, and asks him out. Akaashi is dazed and half of him wonders if he’s hallucinating and finally gone insane. The entire team knows within 24 hours.

-Bokuto can be surprisingly quiet and gentle, and Akaashi can sometimes be very loud, but only with each other

-Bokuto bottoms. Akaashi is the blowjob king

#haikyuu!!

[writethehousedown]

Conflicted Looks Good On You (Crystal x Gigi) - Mina

A/N: Hi everyone, i’m so excited to finally get to participate in one of these challenges! I worked really really hard on this so I hope you enjoy it, this is possibly my best fic yet? :> Please go say hello on my blog @goodemornting !!

Crystal works as a lifeguard for the scariest ride in the entire waterpark, The Vortex of Death. Gigi hates scary things, but might make an exception for the pretty woman who keeps on saving her.

The first time Gigi met Crystal, she’d been dying. No, literally dying.

There was water in her lungs, and it felt like she was drowning from the inside. Her feet were somehow stuck to something that felt like clammy plastic, almost suffocating against her skin. The sky was blurry above in bruised shades of purple, great swathes of orange cutting across it, and it looked like the skies in those terrible indie horror movies Jackie sometimes made her watch. There was a procession of skulls above her as well, faces grotesque and grimy with tongues protruding from bony cheeks and dripping drool into a pool of flames, and Gigi couldn’t help but wonder whether the devil had finally gotten the best of her and sent her down to hell.

Her first coherent thought was thighs. Good thighs. Nice, strong, tan thighs with a soft layer of muscle. The kind of thighs she’d like to see walking around the house on lazy Sunday mornings, blue shorts attached to them and a tacky, overlong red T-shirt hanging down just below the waistline. Water-drops clung to wet skin and ran down in interesting little rivulets, creating intricate lines that could be traced most efficiently with a tongue.

Pair of Thighs had to have a face up there somewhere, Gigi hoped, but then again this was hell so was she really sure?

She chocked at the feel of hands intertwining with her own, grip tight and unflinching as they struggled to lift her up. The gaping skulls and fire became spirals of blood-red spots, scrunching her eyes up and letting herself be lifted from the water. She tried to breathe in and felt her lungs burn, throat tight and painful.

A hand thumped her back hard.

Gigi sputtered, dribbling water. She almost managed to cough out a sentence but then someone’s mouth was on her own, knocking any coherency straight back out of her with the feel of soft lips pulling harshly to get a better grip. She startled, shoulders tensing, but her arms didn’t have the strength to pull away. She tasted sugary peaches, like the kind that filled the cakes and pastries in cafe windows, warm fingers on the back of her head offering the lightest pressure, before they pulled away with a quiet gasp. Gigi scrambled back, and in her daze, managed to kick someone squarely in the chest.

“Holy shit! Holy shit, Gigi!”

If this really was hell and peachy-tan-thighs-girl was a demon, then Gigi was screwed because somehow she’d also brought her best friend into this equation.

“J-Jackie?”

The Persian woman crowded her field of vision, shoulders slumping in relief at the brunette’s words. She looked pale, a wet towel slung over her neck and brown eyes comically huge behind her glasses. Her hands were pressed against her face, squishing up her cheeks in nervous panic, and Gigi thought she looked like a twelve-year-old.

“Oh my god, what were you thinking? Why did you do that?” She screeched, hands clutching her heart as though it might beat right out of her chest “Did you get water in your head or something? I thought you were going to die!” Gigi looked back at her hazily, almost apologetic for how nervous the older woman looked.

“D-do what?” The younger gasped out, shaking slightly from the cold water hugging her skin.

“Jump out of the floatie!” Jackie hissed, turning to speak to someone out of Gigi’s vision. “I’m sorry, are you all good?”

“I’m fine.” A honey voice laughed gently, breathing heavily, “Is your friend alright now?”

“She seems to be alive,” Jackie trilled, high and panicky. “And talking. Is that bad?”

“Oh, no, that’s great. Maybe you can head to the cafe, get some sugar in her.”

Gigi floundered to sit up and get a full look of peach girls face, rubbing at her eyes that were stinging from the pool water. The lifeguard was still clutching her chest in pain, but her grin was square and wide and her striking orange hair was pulled back from her face in a messy ponytail. A jarringly purple headband covered half her forehead, keeping her curly hair off her face, and Gigi saw manicured brows, soft lips and golden, tan skin. The top lip was thicker than the bottom one, which was interesting, and the brunette told herself she was only staring so hard because those lips had been on hers just a few moments ago.

Because Gigi had - apparently, in panic - jumped off her floatie in the midst of the scariest ride in the fucking park, the Vortex of Death, and proceeded to injure the poor lifeguard.

She felt her heart stop again. “I’m sorry,” she gasped, “I’m really sorry, oh my God. I kicked you. After you saved me. I am so sorry.”

“It’s okay. I like saving lives.” The woman grinned like it was nothing, waving a hand nonchalantly which the brunette noticed had fingernails painted in rainbow colours. “Not often that I have to climb up half the ride to do it, but it shook up my day a little.”

Jackie tried ineffectively to dry Gigi’s hair with her wet towel, scoffing under her breath. “Don’t you usually save people lower down?”

“Yep. Most pass through the shark dive before they panic and flail and I have to go pull them out.”

Gigi frowned. “Where was I?”

“Still in the flame thrower part.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t sound so disappointed. At least you didn’t drown.”

Jackie was nodding, though she looked like she was trying to convince herself that everything was okay more than Gigi. She still looked horrified, patting the brunette’s head with that towel and biting down on her lip so hard that Gigi was afraid she’d tear right through.

“It’s okay, honey,” The older whispered, “You can get stuck in the shark dive next time.”

The lifeguard girl giggled loudly at that, shoulders shaking gently. Her voice was a pretty, smooth thing, sling-shotting itself straight into Gigi’s veins, but her laughter itself was heady and adorable. Her one piece swimsuit showcased an embroidered burning skull with the words Vortex of Death beneath it, hardly fitting of the bright brown eyes and gummy smile the taller woman possessed. Her name-tag badge said Crystal, which was a weird one, but who was Gigi to judge? Her blue shorts looked tight and stuck to her skin way too snug, hugging her toned muscles. It wasn’t fair, because even in her tacky lifeguard clothes, Crystal looked like she belonged in a summer fashion catalog. She didn’t look real, much more suited to a beach in the Mexican coast or a hip village in the south of France or something, working on her perfect tan skin.

She certainly did not look like she should be giving CPR in a shitty waterpark in a tiny corner of southern California, and Gigi was immediately mesmerized - cartoon heart eyes, dry mouth, shaky hands - the whole package.

“Do you feel like you can stand up?” Peach girl - Crystal - asked with a tilt of her head. She looked concerned, warm eyes fixed on Gigi’s own and large palm held out for her to hold.

“Y-yeah.”

“Awesome,” She grinned. “Come on, then. Take my hand.”

The younger woman grabbed at it, ignoring the way her heart jumped at the feel of her long fingers closing around her palm, strong and promising. Crystal yanked her up and off of the concrete, catching her neatly after she yet again stumbled into her arms. Gigi gaped up at her, halfway dead again from mortification, but the tan woman’s smile was warm and kind, carving deep laugh lines into her cheeks.

She swallowed hard and felt her insides flutter.

That had been the beginning of her doom.

***

“Nicky says she’s imprinting on you,” Jan grinned when they met at the entrance to the park, under the palm trees surrounding the ticket booth. “Like baby ducks imprint on mom ducks. Only your mom is a hot lifeguard who’s mandated to wear those teeny shorts.”

“She’s not my mom,” Gigi hissed, but Jan didn’t paying attention. “What’s up with this dumb park and teeny shorts, anyway?”

The blondes head turned as a woman passed them by, gaze lingering on the same uniform swimsuit. Gigi had been at this park enough times now to recognize the broad shoulders and dark hair of Jaida, the girl who handled the Lazy River. She spotted her sometimes with Crystal, fooling around when the crowds were less and they had nothing to do. She low-key resented the woman because it was absolutely impossible not to, Jaida was gorgeous, like, beach model, I-do-runway-shows-for-fun gorgeous, and they were super touchy and flirty and annoying all of the time. Once, at Gigi’s insistence, Nicky had asked Jaida if the two were dating. The dark haired woman’s response had been loud, deep laughter, and a pat to the top of Nicky’s head.

“Her name’s Jaida, if you want to know,” She told Jan with a frown, hoping she didn’t sound too aggressive, “She’s really pretty, huh.”

“Jackie told me her name,” Jan replied thoughtfully, craning her neck to keep gazing at the older lifeguard. “Your Crystal is pretty too. Doesn’t she sing as well?”

“She only does one direction songs,” Gigi muttered, shouldering past the older girl to pay for tickets, “She’s a real pro at those, though.”

A loud snicker from behind her told her that Nicky had finally joined them. “She’s a weird one, huh?“

“She’s not weird,” Gigi pouted, crossing her arms, “She’s just…she’s different.”

The French woman snorted, “You act the sun shines out of her ass.”

The brunette pinched the bridge of her nose exasperatedly, “Why the fuck did I bring you guys?”

“Because you know it’s too lame to come to water parks alone.”

Nicky added, “Do you really think we have nothing better to do with our weekends?”

Gigi raised an eyebrow. “You really don’t.”

The French woman frowned, “Well, yeah, fair. But it wasn’t me who decided to crush on the lifeguard that strictly works at the scariest ride in the entire water-park, while having the biggest fear of water.”

“Will you ever let that go?”

“I don’t know. You might have to actually get the girl before that.”

They passed through the entrance to the park, Gigi’s feet acting on their own as they dragged her to her inevitable destination, the stone pathway leading up to the scariest ride in the entire park. Jan laughed once they arrived, nudging the brunette’s shoulder, “Hey, how many times do you think we’ve come here in the last six weeks?”

Gigi didn’t reply, she didn’t know if she was ready to acknowledge the number yet. She knew exactly how many times.

Twenty.

Twenty fucking times she’d come to the water park in the last month, and twenty fucking times she’d climbed into the Vortex with her heart beating out of her chest. It never stopped being terrifying, she never stopped feeling like she’d puke, but somehow, she’d conditioned herself at a Pavlovian level to look forward to it.

To look forward to Crystal meeting her at the bottom of the ride, beaming smile preemptively in place and warm hands waiting to yank her out of the water.

Crystal. Gigi tried out the name nearly every day since the lifeguard had told it to her. Tonguing it around in her mouth, getting a feel for it. Crystal.

Crystal was always there, waiting at the end of the ride like a little guardian angel dressed in her teeny shorts and sometimes that purple headband, reaching out to help the hapless souls flailing in her pool after being spit out by the hell-ride.

What’s up, Gigi would ask, cool as you please. And Crystal would reply excitedly, did you have fun? She would nod, very cool, as if she hadn’t just spent the last one minute screaming her head off like a banshee. As if she hadn’t felt her soul fly up all the way to her gullet, hanging on by a bare thread for the entire duration of the ride. And how was your week, busy yeah? She’d ask, swallowing down her nausea. And Crystal would say something cute, something funny, like oh, I had to dig two people out of the slide today. No big deal.

The lifeguard always smelt like something citrus and tropical, only slightly layered with the chemicals in the water. She always had those peach-shine lips, and Gigi wondered how much lipbalm the lifeguard must go through because they’re more likely to become chapped with all the chlorine she was in contact with. Gigi would stay for a few minutes, chatting with her, asking her things. Do you like pizza? I like pizza, and Do you like sewing? I like sewing. She learned that Crystal likes dancing, and eating Italian food. That Crystal’s accent is colored with the heavy Spanish she picked up from growing up in Mexico. That when she’s not saving lives in the dumb theme park she moonlights as a bartender in some tiny club.

Crystal had even come to expect her, always asking where she’d been if the brunette hadn’t shot down the Vortex for a few days. It lit something fierce in Gigi’s heart when she did that, knowing that the older girl thought of her when she wasn’t around. She would absolutely keep coming back, waste her money on tickets and climb into a ride that scares the soul out of her, just to hear the older woman say what have you been up to? I missed you this week.

It’s a potent sort of crush. Puppy-love strong, blood on fire, wanting-to-serenade-with-roses-and-tulips sort of thing.

Gigi is so gone.

“You okay to do the Vortex alone today?” Jan asked, bouncing giddily on her toes, “Nicky and I are thinking of doing the Lazy River.”

Of course they were. They were going to spend most of that Lazy River ride falling out of their floaties and scraping their heads along the side and bumping into others - general incompetent nonsense that’d get Jaida to follow them exasperatedly along the edges of the entire course. “Sure, try not to get yourselves killed.” What she wanted to say is please don’t go, I’m so terrified, but the idea of getting some precious alone time with a certain tan skinned lifeguard has her holding her head up confidently, walking through the fiery entrance alone like she wasn’t about to faint.

The line dwindled. The Vortex’s head was shaped like a screaming man, tiny red and black striped boats sitting in lines ready to escort people through the horror show. No matter how many times Gigi stood there, waiting to be launched down the steep throat and into the spinning, spiraling slide, she still got awful butterflies at the thought of it. There was only one more person in front of her, and then she would have to go, and the worst part was waiting for the safety-guard to rise and for the beep to sound and for her to be launched down that deep, dark tunnel like a rocket into space.

The person in front of her was thrown down the slide, a scream rising from their throat like cold murder. Gigi shuffled forward, grimacing at the ride’s technical controller who offered her a sympathetic smile. Why do people make these things? Who wants to be scared out of their wits while being sling-shotted into a dark, amniotic chamber full of echoing sounds and slick, red walls? What is this fascination with knowing what it’s like to possibly be swallowed by a giant whale or something? Why are people so intensely entertained by—

���Fuck!” Her hands scrambled for purchase as she was propelled forward, the ride making a terrible screeching sound as the plastic slid against the slide. The skulls leered at her from every turn, the disgusting laughing sound that seemed to have been recorded in the pits of purgatory itself cheering her on from the speakers hidden in the walls. Gigi shrieked, the sound echoing off the walls and bouncing through the chamber along side her.

She could almost see Crystal now, sitting on her lifeguard chair, peering down the tunnel to see whether Gigi would get stuck inside the exit. “A lot of people get stuck on that part, y’know,” The older woman had told her once. “It’s a structural defect. But most people find it hilarious and it adds to the experience, so they don’t fix it.”

Gigi hadn’t had the heart to tell her that most people probably also appreciate the sight of Crystal climbing up to get them, pole in hand, to poke them out of position. Crystal - narrow yet broad, big yet small, a mess of contradictions and odd features and little flaws brought together into the perfect person. Gigi could hardly believe she wasn’t a fever dream.

The redhead’s sunglasses were bright green and heart-shaped that day, reflecting the afternoon sun and doing wonders for her tan skin. Gigi barely had time to glimpse before she fell right out of her floatie and straight into the pool, the splash sound reverberating through the water. She went under and spluttered for a while, bright blue in her eyes and burning water in her throat, before familiar arms dragged her out and greeted her with a tight embrace.

“You never stick the landing right,” Crystal hummed, looking down at her through a teasing smile, “Hi, Gigi.”

“Hey,” The younger woman replied breathlessly, holding up a weak thumbs up. “What’s shaking?”

“You tell me,” The taller woman raised an eyebrow teasingly, “Pretty nasty fall you had today, looked like you were about to cry.”

Gigi pushed the hair out of her eyes, trying to appear dignified, “Are you making fun of me?” Crystal’s eyes widened, shaking her head frantically.

“No!” The taller woman assured, hands flurrying to deny the statement, “You looked graceful, almost! Very pretty. Do people ever tell you how pretty you are? Because I think so.” She spoke very quickly, that heavy accent dripping honey-like into every word, and Gigi could hardly catch what she was saying. That was endearing too. Crystal’s lashes fluttered excitedly. “You’re really something, Geege.”

The brunette peered at her, trying to make out if all of this had a layer of hilarity to it. The redhead didn’t look like she was joking, just gazed at Gigi happily - so earnest and serious, eyes round and lamp-like, a one thousand kilowatt smile. Skin all supple and tan and pretty, hair drawn back from her face, standing there knee-deep in chlorinated water fangirling over her. Her big, bubbly lifeguard crush. Gigi sort of just really wanted to kiss her head.

She cleared her throat. “I thought it must look kinda weird, falling off every time I get on this ride,”

“No, it isn’t! You look cool, dramatic. You look like an actress.”

“Really?”

“Really. Your clothes look cool, too. I love your swimsuit!.” Crystal beamed, gesturing down at Gigi’s white lace bikini. Her hands were still resting on Gigi’s shoulders, big palms squeezing gentle, so soft that a butterfly couldn’t get away with it. “You should be confident.”

“I am.”

“That’s good, then.” The redhead licked her lips - a quick pink swipe, leaving her mouth glossier still. “Wow, I can’t believe I know someone so gorgeous. It’s

awesome.”

Crystal smile was pearly and bright, starry-eyed, mouth that cool blush tone that reminded the brunette of fresh strawberries and fluffy blankets. “That’s pretty lame,” Gigi laughed, cheeks getting warmer by the second.

“Five people have gotten stuck since morning,” The lifeguard grinned, “One was this girl, she screamed the funniest things ‘till I got her out of there, you should have heard it. Sometimes I think people hate this ride. They do it once because it’s so famous and everyone wants to look cool, but they secretly can’t stand it.”

Gigi glanced back at the Vortex and shivered, her heart still pounding from the twists and jumps of the tunnels packed inside. All of what the taller had just said applied to her, too, but she’d left out the one variable that kept bringing her back.

She wondered if Crystal knew what she looked like.

“You come back, though,” The redhead observed, peering around Gigi in preparation for the next person screaming their way through the stone chamber. “You seem to love this ride. You must be a really brave person.”

Gigi chuckled weakly, her stomach flipping. “I like to live dangerously,” She lied through her teeth.

“Yeah?” Crystal lit up. “So do I! I’ve been wanting to go to the summer festival so bad. There’s this crazy roller-coaster this year, did you see it?”

She’d seen it. She’d seen it many, many times, all over her Instagram feed no matter how many times she told the app she was Not. Interested. It was a monstrous thing, must be the size of two baseball pitches, at least three times what the vortex was. Just looking at it had been enough to make her want to melt into the floor, so of course Crystal was absolutely enamored by it.

“They brought it in from Australia or something. I keep asking Jaida to come with me, but she says she’s scared, which is weird because normally she’s good with this stuff-“

Sometime in between Crystal opening her mouth and closing it, Gigi had begun to nod violently. She’s not sure when it started, but her mouth twisted into a warming smile. It felt like she was no longer in control of her own voice as she hummed, “I can go with you, if you want.”

The redhead looked at her, wide-eyed, a little daze of possibility sparking in her gaze. “Really?” She asked, and then frowned skeptically. “I mean you don’t really know me, and I wouldn’t want to pressure you..”

“I’d love to go, promise,” Gigi beamed, earnest. “I - uh - I love roller-coasters. Who doesn’t?”

“Right.” Crystal brightened, cheeks puffing up from her wide smile. Excitement made her look soft, even softer, actually, lit her up from the inside like a little doll that smiles when you push at its tummy. Gigi heard a swoosh of blood rushing in her ears. “What reason is there to be scared? You go on the thing, you have the time of your life, you feel alive. You know?”

The brunette could think of at least five hundred reasons to be scared. “Alive.” She mumbled, clenching her jaw, “Alive. Yep.”

The lifeguard giggled happily. “When do you want to go?”

There was a little kick in Gigi’s gut, a last ditch attempt to get her out of something she knew she shouldn’t be doing. “W-whenever. I’m free…Monday night?” Too bad, she had done it anyway.

Crystal near vibrated in excitement, bouncing on the heels of her toes. “Okay! Okay. Monday night. I’ll meet you there.” Her eyes twinkled, round pupils gazing into Gigi’s more piercing ones, and the younger woman felt as though she was going to faint yet again.

The splash of someone else landing in the pool startled them both, a quiet scream following it from underwater. The redhead shot her an apologetic look, - gotta go now - and padded her way over to the flailing person, warm-voiced and gentle and smiling as she helped them up.

The brunette climbed out of the pool, looking back once, and then started to move towards a different ride before she made another decision she’d regret.

“Geege!” Crystal called, waving dramatically back at her, “Monday, don’t forget. It’s a date!”

Gigi nearly stumbled into a bush.

***

In all matters not involving math, scary rides, and one particular tan-skin lifeguard, Georgina Goode was very competent.

She made and designed clothing, with some help from Nicky. She liked to cook, and she liked living alone, and she liked women. She liked some fun with her sense of organization, too, so on most weekends that she didn’t have to work, she ended up in a club with Jan.

“Cute girl at eight o’clock,” The blonde slurred, happily pulling Gigi this way and that in vaguely the rhythm of whatever song was being played, “She’s been looking at you all night.”

She turned to look, but it was like her mind’s eye had shrunk to develop an omnipotent focus only on Crystal. Her gaze found the new girl and slipped away quickly, disinterested. She turned back to Jan with a shrug. “Not my type.”

“Oh, you have a type now?” The older woman’s smile was knowing, “The type that makes you go on scary rides? Loud, smiley, tan?”

Gigi shook her head, groaning, “I’m going with her to the autumn festival tomorrow.”

Jan’s eyes went wide, stopping in her tracks and mouth gaping wide, “Really? You finally asked her out? Lifeguard Crystal?!”

The music changed, some pop anthem, and Jan lit up and tugged on Gigi’s arm to pull her further into the dance floor. The brunette grinned and shimmied closer. She liked dancing with Jan, because Jan was the rare breed of person who’d recite all the properties of antibiotics or whatever she was studying at nursing school while performing a slut-drop. Jan never made things weird. Even then, she was probably contemplating Gigi’s potential future with “Lifeguard Crystal” as she swayed her hips enthusiastically to the rap music.

“Well, she’s not bad looking, I guess.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“Fine, fine. She’s fucking hot. Like. Ridiculously hot.”

“That’s more like it.”

Jan’s brows creased, offering a sympathetic smile. “But you don’t know her very well, babe.”

“I know her better than that girl over there you were suggesting I take home.”

“Fair point,” The blonde frowned, reaching around Gigi to grab her drink from the table. “But what if she’s…Oh, fuck it. Enjoy your date with Crystal. She of the life-giving mouth and tiny blue shorts. Just be safe, okay?”

“Yeah, well,” Gigi hesitated, dry-mouthed, ignoring the patronizing tilt of the older woman’s head. “I don’t think this date is ending that way.”

The blonde narrowed her eyes, “Why? What are you two doing?” She asked skeptically, downing a sip of her vibrantly coloured cocktail.

She took a deep breath, “Going on the roller coaster at the summer festival.”

Jan spat out her drink, looking back at the younger woman with eyes the size of saucers. “What?” She spluttered, loud enough that club goers around her startled and looked in their direction. “Have you seen that thing? It’s monstrous. It’s abominable. It’s an absolute atrocity, Gigi.”

“We want to feel alive.”

“You sound really dead right now.”

“I know.” She sighed, hiding her face behind her palms, “She just, Crystal, she’s… special, y’know? I want to impress her so bad, it’s insane,”

“Of course you do.” Jan put her small hand to Gigi’s jaw, furrowing her brows. The younger woman leaned into it, taking a deep breath. “God, it’s bad, isn’t it?”

“Maybe I just need to see her out of those shorts for once. Break the spell.”

The blonde shook her head. “It’s bad,” she whispered, nodding to herself and patting Gigi’s cheek gently. “So bad.”

“Janet,” the brunette whispered hoarsely, “How much do I need to pay for you to come to the summer festival and drag my body away if I die on this thing?”

***

On Sunday evening when Crystal messaged her to ask are we still on? with a flurry of heart emojis and a mermaid, the brunette didn’t have the slightest idea of how to respond.

She scowled at her phone for a minute. Yes? She typed, and then deleted the question mark. She wasn’t a stumbling middle school girl with a painful crush on a senior way out of her league. She was smart. She was confident.

She could do this.

Yes, she sent, and then couldn’t bare to look at the phone for a while. Crystal’s reply wasn’t much to go on when she finally gained the courage to peek.

“Cool,” The brunette read aloud, turning the word about in her mouth to gauge its true meaning. “Cool.” She pouted at the lack of any smiley faces.

She let it go. Ran late anyway because she kept looking at pictures of that roller coaster and having mini heart-attacks. There was a chain lift and a steep drop and many, many points where both the contents of Gigi’s stomach and her heart were likely to leap out of her mouth.

Still. She could do this. She wasn’t a baby, she rode the Vortex of Death every week - she could do this.

Crystal’s hair was ruffled in the wind when Gigi finally caught up to her, already smelling of daffodils and ice-cream. She was finally out of those fucking shorts too, dressed all pretty in a yellow sundress and patterned necktie, still with that soft-shine balm glossing up her lips in a more shimmery colour this time. She wore round glasses, pushed up to the top of her head and intertwining with her red curls, with bunches of colourful bracelets decorating both hands. She looked straight out of a painting, maybe a character escaped from the most beautiful art museum and on the run through the summer festival.

“You look - you look nice,” Gigi stuttered, all verklempt, and Crystal beamed back with her eyes scrunched up.

“You too! There’s a penguin pin on your shirt.”

Gigi looked down, almost gasping at the sight of said penguin pin in the middle of her pale blue blouse. She hadn’t meant to wear that one, but by some psychobabble-subconscious-wizardry, she’d still managed it. It’s even a dancing penguin.

“Oh,” she chuckled, feeling slightly sick.

“It’s cute.” Crystal poked a finger at it, all easy, like all her dates turned up wearing penguins on their shirts. Gigi jolted back in surprise, shocked at the sudden contact. The redhead laughed and stuck her hands in her pockets, “Sorry. Should we go find the line for the roller-coaster?”

The younger woman squirmed a little, grimacing, “Y-Yeah,” she replied, finally, “I guess so.”

The festival was pretty and thrumming, all glimmering blue lights and palm trees, smell of tropical fruit and salt water, luau music. There was smoke and surfboards and the luster of gaudy-pretty streamers, fluttering silver and aqua and yellow. Spots of glitter constellated on Crystal’s cheeks like freckles whenever she looked up.

“I love the summer festival,” The redhead muttered in awe. “Where I grew up the carnivals were smaller than this, but it was my favorite time of the year.”

Gigi only spent the first minute feeling clammy-palmed and sick with worry, because Crystal turned out to be a ridiculously excitable person. Five steps into the festival and her hand came tight down on her wrist, dragging her off because puppies, oh my god, they have puppies, and Gigi went along because what the fuck, she liked puppies too.

The air was caramel-thick and the close press of bodies made the space hot. Crystal watched the puppies jump through loops with wet lashes and a beatific expression, fingers itching forward to grab, to hold. Gigi cooed at a fluffy poodle with curly gray fur and liquid eyes. The older woman pet the top of its head, looking overwhelmed. “I miss my dog,” she whispered quiet, and Gigi felt the sweetness in that sentiment all the way to the tips of her toes.

In some time she asked, a bit hopefully, “Are we going to stay with the puppies forever?” She wanted the answer to be yes, fuck the rollercoaster. Spending the night getting ice cream and playing with dogs sounded much better to her.

Crystal blinked, “Oh,” she shrugged, rubbing the back of her neck sheepishly, “Sorry. We should go.”

Gigi would’ve much rather stayed. But she dug this grave for himself, and now there was really no choice but to lie in it. She did manage to distract Crystal a little more on the way, which wasn’t much considering Crystal was extremely easy to distract.The brunette only had to wave her arms and say look over there for the tan woman to wildly pick any random direction and find something to look at. They inspected the painted surfboards and wander through a maze of mirrors. They buy a weird little ship in a bottle that Crystal randomly fell in love with. They followed loud pew-pew sounds into a neon-lit, temporarily constructed arcade, where the lifeguard demolished Gigi in some annoying car race game. There were Pokemon in the arcade claw machines that they spent a few minutes trying to win.

“I like Pokemon,” Crystal grinned, and she filed that away, thought of herself saying it to her friends - my girlfriend likes Pokemon. The redhead was focused, tongue peeking out the corner of her lips and eyes narrowed as she navigated the claw. “I have a lot of these”

“I think they’re cute.”

“You do?”

Gigi faulted, colour rushing time her cheeks. “Yeah.”

“I didn’t think you were the type of person to like plushies.”

“What type of person did you think I was?”

Crystal shrugged, not looking away from the claw. “Very cool.”

“Oh.”

The older woman didn’t  seem very bothered by this change in perception but Gigi was, she wanted to clarify, the itch to make herself clear rising and suffocating her until it came out in a fast rush. “My friend says liking soft things doesn’t make you any less any less cool.”

Crystal glanced up, leaning forward to pat Gigi’s chest lightly. Weirdly, when she did it, it wasn’t patronizing at all. Just Crystal letting you know it’s fine. “It makes you more cool, I think.”

“Cooler,” She corrected, feeling her insiders shrivel up at her lameness. “Not more cool, cooler. I mean—that is—never mind.”

Gigi felt like a little moth drawn to a lamp - herself the moth, night-black and dirty with lies. Crystal’s the lamp, warm and sparkly like Christmas stars and fairy lights and she is so gone.

***

The Hurricane Dominator was exactly as Jan said: an atrocity. It climbed steep above the rest of the festival, and just the one visible loop of it made Gigi want to find the nearest trashcan to hurl into. It looped and curled and the cart practically hung suspended upside down at some point. She felt the integral parts of her system begin to shut down already, but Crystal rocked back on her feet, eyes wide and fists clenched, a soft wow shaping her mouth into a little O.

When they got closer, it was obvious that the line stretched all the way around the festival. Crystal’s face dropped a little. “That’s a long queue.”

Gigi tried not to let the relief show on her face. She tugged gently at the taller woman’s sleeve. “Maybe we should go on the smaller rides.”

“No, I can probably bribe someone into letting us cut the line.”

And she proceeded to do just that. Gigi stood back, slack-jawed, watching as Crystal walked up to a random guy and started promising him enough money for burgers and a drink. She threw in the little Pikachu, too, pressing it to the guy’s chest in that universal bro-thing where you slap the shit out of the other dude as hard as possible. The guy grinned and hi-fives her, proceeding to give Crystal her number, and then he and his girlfriend walked right out of the line leaving space for the older woman and Gigi.

“That guy was nice,” The lifeguard smiled, off-hand, when Gigi rushed to join her. “He has a restaurant near the water park. Said he’d give me dumplings on discount if I go there.”

The brunette huts his mouth quickly, trying to hide her astonishment.  “Do you.. is that how the world usually works for you?”

“What do you mean?” Crystal asked. “Oh. Yeah, I make friends fast! But look, we’re right at the front now.”

Gigi could feel herself start to sweat. Panic crawled up her spine, many-legged like spiders, locking up her muscles and breaking out of her in little shivers. She occupied herself with the mole on Crystal’s nose while she chattered happily about previous roller-coasters she’d tried. “There’s a TV show on an Australian channel that’s only about theme parks,” The redhead was babbling happily. Gigi really had to lean in to hear her over the death-screams of the people riding the Hurricane Dominator. “That’s how many theme parks they have. That’s my dream job.”

“Working in an Australian theme-park?”

“No. Having a show about theme-parks.”

“You must really like theme-parks.”

“I like all the rides except that thing that does the vertical drop,” Crystal muttered. “I’m scared of those ones.”

Gigi was scared of everything. As a kid, she was scared of the fucking monkey bars in the neighborhood’s jungle gym. Now that she was older she was afraid of spiders, snakes, foreclosure, unpaid credit cards, roller-coasters, ghosts, and her own truth. If she didn’t get on this thing, how is she going to tell Crystal what she was doing visiting the Vortex of Death multiple times? She imagined that conversation: I think you’re hot, so I took the death-ride twenty-one times so you could pull me out of the pool. How’s that for a meet-cute? Her palms felt clammy and sweat beaded on her brow.

The discomfort must’ve shown on her face, because Crystal asked, suddenly, “Are you okay?”

Gigi felt her soul slowly edge its way out of her body. “What?”

“You look pale. Are you okay? Do you want to sit down?”

She managed to hold her tongue through climbing onto their seats, and even pulled the safety-guard down. The older woman hummed contentedly, ready to go, and turned her head to look at Gigi. Her face fell so abruptly it was like she’d decelerated from mach speed to zero.

“Hey, uhm,” Crystal hesitated, eyes nervous and twitchy, “you look really faint.”

“I feel—I feel like I might,” Gigi flinched at the sound of the rollercoaster creaking, “You know.”

“What?”

“Faint.”

The redhead wriggled a little in her seat. “Do you want to get off? We can get off. We don’t have to-“

“No, no, you wanted to do this.”

“I don’t want to do it if you’re scared,” Crystal whispers, eyebrows furrowing, “There are other rides. We can go on that Twisterado thing - or the Space Pistols-“

The brunette giggled, a bit hysterically.  “I’m scared of all the rides”

“You’re not scared of the Vortex,” Crystal said authoritatively, reaching out to pat Gigi’s thigh. “You love that ride.”

And it was at that moment - with that syrupy-orangey light still playing on Crystal’s skin, with her brows on display and confusion clearly written on her face - that Gigi realized she really couldn’t do this. She couldn’t ride this roller-coaster. She was going to fucking die. All the energy sapped out of her, siphoned through some invisible port and fed to the demonic force that powered the ride.

“I’m fucking terrified of the Vortex,” Gigi gasped, death-bed-confession heavy. “I have nightmares about that thing. When I die and go to hell, all they’ll need to torture me is to make me go on that thing again and again, get me stuck in the bottom every single time, and—”

The tan woman looked like a confused puppy. “What are you talking about? You keep coming back to go on it.”

“Yeah, well.”

“I see you literally every week.”

She shuddered. “Crystal,” he says. “I only go on it because I get - I get to see you.”

The lifeguard looked flabbergasted, eyes the size of saucers and mouth gaping wide. She opened her mouth, like she wanted to say something, and then pursed it shut again. “What?”

Gigi looked at her shoes miserably. “I only g-go on the Vortex of Death because of you. Because you–uh, you save me, and you’re cute, and I…like seeing you.”

Crystal blinked violently, head tilted, puzzlement spilled scatter-shot across her features. But now they were moving, the roller-coaster slowly pulling backward,  and she could feel all of her insides clench up in horrific anticipation of what was to come.

“I know it’s pathetic,” Gigi mumbled, hating how small she sounded. The redhead still wasn’t saying anything. Crystal was probably too nice to say how lame this was.  The brunette wanted the ride to start so her soul could fly out of her body and take her out of the older woman’s range. “It’s so pathetic. I’m sorry.”

Crystal took in a shuddering breath. She opened her mouth again.

And then, with loud music and a horrible tug at Gigi’s stomach - the ride began.

#rpdr fanfiction #crygi #crystal methyd #gigi goode #jackie cox #jan sport #nicky doll #mina #summer lovin' 2020 #day 4: heat #submission

[thethoughtsfromthreeam]

California

Pairing: Agent Whiskey/Jack Daniels x OC

Warnings: Smut

A/N:  As promised, a whole chapter of smut (of the fluffiest kind)

Reminder: I haven’t seen Kingsman: The Golden Circle, so I’m just using the Wikia, IMDB.com, some gifs, and my own weird ass brain to make up this whole ass story.

Tag List:  @zeldasayer , @romanticgumchewer, @tarrevizslas , @coolmaybelateruniverse , @the-feckless-wonder, @lavenderl3mons , @pascalisthepunkest , @mandoandyodito​ , @randomness501 [please message me to be added or subtracted]

[PART 1]  [PART 2]  [PART 3]  [PART 4]  [PART 5] [PART 6]  [PART 7]  [PART 8]  [PART 9]  [PART 10]  [PART 11]  [PART 12]  [PART 13]

Part 14 

At Last 

The soft twilight outside his office window forced Jack to turn on his desk lamp.  The pile of transfer reports he had been working on since early afternoon was almost complete.  He found himself sad to see several of the young trainees go, but Kingsman was in desperate need of agents and he was proud to send them over.  They’ll thrive under Tequila, he thought.

Once the last report was finished and signed off, he sat back and stretched.  The cracking of his neck felt good.  He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms before putting them back on.  He sat for a bit, lost in thought, when his phone buzzed.  He picked it up and realized he had a text.

‘Hungry? I’m starting dinner’

‘Yep. I’ll be up soon.’

‘Good. Love you.’

‘Love you, too.’

He put his phone in his pocket as he stood up.  His eyes lingered on the front of his desk where he nearly fucked Shirley this afternoon.  He had been so fucking close and even though he “took care of it” like Shirl told him to, it wasn’t enough, not when she had been there and wanting him so damn bad. Rubbing his hands over his face, he groaned at the memory.

You’re going home to her, stupid, move already, he told himself. After gathering up the reports to drop off, he turned off the light and shut the office door.  He popped into Brandy’s empty office and left the files on her desk with a note attached and sent a text to follow up.  Getting into the elevator, he turned off his phone and impatiently tapped his toes as he rode to the eighth floor.  Shirley moved in with him about year after her return and coming home to her was always the best part of his day.

When he opened the door, he found the house quiet.  The kitchen table was set, and it certainly smelled like something was cooking, but he didn’t see Shirley anywhere.  He hung his hat on the hook next to the door and dropped his keys in the holder.  He stepped over to the table and there was his named scrawled on a note.  He opened it.

Appetizers in the bedroom  ~M

The grin bloomed on his face as he set it down and walked down the hallway. He found the door ajar and when he opened it, his breath was taken away.  Only the nightstand lights were on, putting the room in a soft glow.  In the middle of the bed sat Shirley, her hair down around her shoulders and propped up against the pillows.  Her legs were stretched out before her, feet bare, and she had her arms laying gently beside her torso.  She wore the dress.

“Hello, cowboy.”  Her voice was soft and practically purred.  He could see her eyes darken at the sight of him and he was certain his was doing the same thing.  He stood in the doorway and took off his boots and then his jacket and belt before finally removing his shirt.  He stood there in just his pants.

“Hello.”

She didn’t move as he walked across the room to the end of the bed. She held her hand out to him and he crawled across to her.  When he reached her, he laid flush against her body, propping himself on his forearms to look at her.  She brought her arms around his shoulders and leaned forward to kiss the tip of his nose.

“I thought you were making dinner.”

“I did, it won’t be ready for a few hours.”  She grinned at him and he grinned back before gently placing his lips on hers.  The kiss was soft and sweet at first but as he shifted and placed one of his hands on her hip, he grew more heated.  She responded by opening her mouth and darting out her tongue.  He opened for her and they deepened the kiss.  He grew hard at her panting breaths.

His thumb traced lazy circles on her hip, and she began to shift as her body responded to the two front stimulation she was experiencing.  She moved her arms under his to grasp his back and her legs opened wider to accommodate him.  She felt her core grow heavier and she ready for him.  She hadn’t realized how much she had missed this, and it was making her lightheaded.

Jack broke off the kiss to pepper her jaw and then her neck with soft pecks of his lips.  The gentleness in which he touched her combined with the soft hairs of his mustache tickled her and she giggled before drawing up her shoulders in an automatic response. He grinned against her skin but kept going slowly across her collarbone and then down to her cleavage.  He glanced up at her to find her staring at him with hooded eyes.  They both remember the last time they were in a similar position.

He pulled at the dress’ neckline to kiss further down when he realized she wore no bra.  She smiled at the way his eyes brows shot up and moaned as his eyes seemed to grow darker with lust.  His hand reached down to untie the belt of the dress and the neckline gaped open. He pulled it wider and her breasts spilt out.  He moaned. This is exactly what he wanted, the feel of this dress against his skin and her exposed to his look and touch. He bent his head down and gently kissed each breast.  Shirley pulled her hands from his back and laced her fingers through his hair.

“Oh, Jack. . .”  She breathed, hips jerking at the spikes of heavy pleasure deep within her when he began sucking on her nipple.  They were always so sensitive, and Jack knew it.  Nothing else he could do to her would turn her on as fast as playing with her breasts.  He brought his hand up from her hip to play with her other nipple and her body curled into him.  Her moans were coming deep from her throat as he kissed along her chest and lapped at the other nipple.

When he gently bit down on the one and pinched the other, she cried out suddenly.  Her hips jerked against him and he realized she came.  She dropped back on the pillows slightly dazed, her orgasm catching her by surprise.  She started to laugh, albeit shaky, and looked down at him.  He smiled at her.

“Well that was unexpected.”  She said, drawing a breath and then another as his hand moved from her breast down to her stomach.  His smile was smug, but when he dipped his hands under her dress to find her with no underwear, it was her turn to look smug.

“Marigold, you’re killing me here.”  He groaned and he could feel his cock twitched at the wetness of her heat.  “You feel so good, love.”

“Jack, you gotta touch me.”  She mumbled as his thumb found her clit and began making slow circles.  The sensitivity from her first orgasm meant that she felt everything, and it was almost overwhelming.  She rested her head against his and their heavy breaths mingled with each other.  Her eyes fluttered shut at the sensation and before she could open them, she could feel him shift away from her body and move downwards.

He kissed between her breasts again and then every few inches pressed his lips against her torso, letting the fabric of the dress tickle them.  As he moved, his hands gently pulled the dress higher on Shirley’s hips until she was exposed to him.  He continued to kiss down, planting one more just below her belly button.  He laid his cheek on the springy curls on her mound and closed his eyes.  He felt her fingers lightly drag through his hair.

He turned his face and pressed his nose briefly against her before he pulled back and yanked her down the bed, so she was flat against the mattress. The dress bunched up under her bust, pushing her breasts higher up.  Shirley widened her legs and drew them up to let Jack move his shoulders under her thighs. She brought her hands down to the back of his head when he laid back down.

Before she could react, he pressed his face down into her mound and dragged his tongue up her slit.  Her back arched off the bed and she cried out.  Before her hips had a chance to move, he used his right forearm to hold her down.  He began to lick her earnestly, focusing on her clit.  The sensations she would normally feel were heightened by her first orgasm and she practically sobbed when he stuck his finger inside of her and began pumping in and out.  When he added a second finger, she knew she was done for.

The tightness in her stomach pulled impossibly tighter and she practically saw stars when she came the second time.  Her sobs sounded ripped from her throat and her hips jerked almost violently.  The death grip she had on his hair must have hurt him, but he didn’t show it. Instead, he remained still until she collapsed back into the pillows, panting heavily.

Jack smiled and felt a twinge of pride knowing he alone made her feel like this.  Her flushed face, swollen lips, and the little twitches of her hips – all him. He was rock hard and felt that he could have come right there just looking at her.  She looked at him, her eyes slightly glazed over and full of lust. He raised him self up and stretched out over her.  When his pants bushed against her clit, her hips jerked against his erection.

He leaned down to kiss her, and she brought her hands to his face. Shirley couldn’t believe she came twice already, and her body practically hummed from the joy of it. She let her fingertips lightly trace his cheeks and chin, where she could feel the stubble already forming. She brushed a thumb against his chin and then down his throat.  

She brought both hands down and against his shoulders.  Shirley clutched at them briefly before she pulled her lips from his. He looked at her with such longing and she knew her face must look the same.  She pushed against him and off her.  As she maneuvered him onto his back, she pushed herself to her knees.

“Marigold, you don’t have to do this.”  He said quietly.

“Oh, but I want to.”  Jack settled back, slightly propped up on the pillows, a reversal from where he found her the first time.  She reached down to unbutton his pants and together they got them off him, along with his boxer briefs.  She dropped them to the side of the bed and then straddled him.  Jack swallowed hard when he saw her – this vision, the woman he loved – sitting on him, encased in that damned dress and looking at him wantonly.

Shirley felt intoxicated, she hadn’t been this free and open with him in years.  Seeing him looking at her with such lust, it made her core clench in want.  She was of the rare variety that could never feel comfortable giving a blow job no matter how lusty she felt.  She wasn’t sure if it was the sheer ridiculous look of it or her terrible gag reflex, but if Jack resented not have her mouth on his cock, he never let on to her.  On rare occasions in the past, she’d lick up his cock, maybe pressing a kiss on the tip, but that’s about as far as she’d go.  Instead, she worked to make her hand jobs spectacular.  He loved her hands after all.

She settled herself on his thighs, widening her legs more than normal to allow the dress to hang down and hide her from his sight.  Jack could feel her heat against him and brought his hands to her hips and bit down on his lower lip.  His eyes fluttered shut as her nails gently scraped up his cock and when she reached the sensitive head, he felt his hips jerk in time with his gasp.

She smoothed the bead of precum around his head and quietly spit into her hand.  Using both hands she gently grabbed his cock and began to move her hands around it. Her grip was firm and unrelenting, working him up and down.  His hooded eyes watched her when she suddenly smiled and removed them.  He groaned at the loss of her heat, but gasped when he realized what she going to do.  She was pulling at the skirt of her dress and he could see a flash of her nudity underneath. She draped the skirt over his cock and the soft brushed cotton rubbed against him as she put her hands back into place over the fabric.

“Oh fuck, Marigold, fuck!” His groans were loud and the veins in his neck jutted out.  She merely smiled.

The tension in his belly increased and he found himself slowly fucking her hands, relishing the feel of the fabric rubbing against him.  She grinned when he tightened the grip on her hips after she moved one hand lower to fondle his balls.  Shirley could see the ripple of muscles under his stomach as she increased her speed.  As he got louder with his moans, she bent down to kiss along his chest, flicking her tongue against one nipple and then the other.

“Fuck, Marigold, I’m going to come if you don’t stop.”  He gritted the words out and he was certain his grip on her hips would leave bruises tomorrow.

“No more?”

“I want to come inside you, love, not in your hand.”  He wasn’t sure how he was even able to form words anymore, his brain felt like mush.  For a moment after she removed her hands and the skirt, he almost regretted his words, until he opened his eyes and watched as she lifted herself up and grasped his cock at the base.  He helped guide her down on him and he watched her as her eyes fluttered shut.

Yes, she thought, this is what I needed.  His thickness filled her completely and for a moment, she didn’t move just to feel him stretch her out.  She wasn’t sure if it was her newfound freedom or the length of time since they last made love that made her so sensitive, but she was here for it. Slowly she lifted her hips and he hiss loudly at the movement.  She brought them back down slowly and she opened her eyes to look into his.  As she slowly began to ride him, Jack sat up and wrapped his arms around her waist.

“Oh Jack.”  She said as she looped her arms around his neck and bowed her head down to touch his.

“Marigold, god,” he rasped.  “You feel so fucking good, baby.”

Soon feeling her wasn’t enough, he began to rock his hips in time with her and soon they picked up speed.  With her breasts bouncing in front of him, he couldn’t resist taking one nipple into his mouth and sucking on it.  She cried out and curled into him.  Her hips stuttered at the sensation, but his kept up the pace.

“Jack, I’m going to come.”  She whispered in his ear.  “Make me come, baby, again.”

He groaned at her words and moved his hips upward faster.  He buried his face into her neck and dropped his hands to her ass to move her on his dick.  He could feel his orgasm rising and he wasn’t sure if he could be gentle with her.

“Jack, fuck me.  Harder.”

His control snapped and he drove into her with almost animalistic force. Her cries became louder and he was sure everyone in the goddamn building could hear his moans.  Suddenly, Shirley went rigid and he knew her orgasm hit her. She screamed, tightening her grip on his shoulders.  Her core clamped down on his cock and he growled as he began to come in her. Their shared orgasm seemed to last forever but eventually he fell backwards, and she collapsed on top of him. They couldn’t hear anything else but their collective hearts pounding in their chests.  He wrapped his arm around her and held her close.

Soon their breathing returned to normal and he withdrew from her.  They laid there a bit longer before Shirley propped her head up on his chest and looked at him.  The contentment on his face thrilled her and she smiled broadly.

“What’s that smile for, moonshine?” He asked lazily as his fingers traced abstract patterns over her back.

“That was a pretty good appetizer.”  She giggled as he began to laugh loudly along with her.

#agent whiskey #jack daniels #pedro pascal #kingsman: the golden circle #fanfic #agent whiskey x oc #agent whiskey x reader #pedro pascal x reader #agent whiskey smut #pedro pascal smut

[theonewiththefanfics]

Hawkins’ Charm (Part 8/?)

Synopsys: They had gotten out of Hawkins. After all the shit that had happened, all the heartache and pain, Billy and the Reader had gotten away from that hellhole, building their life in California as he had dreamed. But when Max’s graduation rolls around and they go to celebrate, it’s as if the Upside Down was just waiting for all of them to return. And it has a bone to pick.

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x f!Reader; platonic!Steve Harrington x f!Reader

Genre: angst, bit of fluff

Warnings: blood, mentions of injuries and death, fighting, swearing, mentions of smut, but not full-on

Word count: 3861 (I’m sorry if there are any mistakes :D )

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT CONDONE BILLY’S ACTIONS AND THE THINGS HE’S DONE! THIS IS BASICALLY AN AU, WHEN REALLY LOOKING AT IT! SPOILERS FOR S3! READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION!

         “Absolutely not!”         “Are you fucking kidding me?”         “In your fucking dreams!”         “Over my dead body!” Billy concluded the barrage of responses.         “Guys,” Y/N said in a matter of fact voice, “it’s the best plan that we have.”         Her husband scoffed. “You are not going to the Upside Down! None of us are going to the Upside Down!”         “You have any better ideas?” she challenged and was met with a scowl.         “We can just grab Neil and pull that exorcist shit on him,” Dustin said, trying to diffuse the growing tension.         “Yeah?” Y/N let out a small laugh. “And where do you propose we do it? In front of Max’s mom? Or how about the hundreds of people that will be going to the graduation? Oh wait, maybe we can do it at Benny’s which will be crawling with his little minions as they gather for a celebratory meal.”

        Billy was seething by that point, but so was Y/N.         “No, we can’t do that," Hopper was nodding his head and pointed at Y/N, "but we can distract him. The kids can be the diversion we need to get to the Upside Down. He knows, that she’s no longer one of them, so it’s safe to assume, he knows we know about everything. But it’ll throw him off of his game when he sees all of them show up to the ceremony like nothing’s happened.”          Joyce smacked Hopper’s bicep and sternly stated, “We’re not using the kids as bait!”         “Mom,” Will started butting in before she could hit Jim again. “Most of us are eighteen… I’m eighteen. I know you want to protect us, but we can do it. We’ll be fine.”         “Not a fucking chance,” Joyce growled back at him. “I won’t let that thing or anyone possessed by it get anywhere near you, got it?”         That started a whole other argument as to how safe it was for them to even be in the near vicinity of Neil and the flayed. Y/N had mentioned that Tina, Vicky and Tommy had been a part of the possessed, as was most from the party. That alone equated to around fiftyish people; almost half of what it had been the last time. But with how much stronger the Mind Flayer had gotten, there was no way to safely be around them, though of one thing Y/N could ease everyone’s, mostly Joyce’s and Johnathan’s, minds on.         “Whenever its expelled from a host,” she said, “it can’t return; there’s like this barrier. It’s like chicken pox – you get them once and it's done.”         Billy wanted to interject and say that wasn’t true, seeing as Clara had gotten them on her first day in kindergarten, and he had caught them from their little girl.         “I thought you said you had them as a kid,” Y/N snorted, as she rubbed an ointment on his back the doctor said would help with the itching.         “That’s ‘cause I did,” Billy grumbled and glared at his two-year-old. He hissed at Y/N when she slapped his hand away from where it was inching to go and scratch at his thigh.         “You scratch,” she pointed a finger at him, “then you’ll have to go through a month without sex.”         Billy’s eyes narrowed at her. “You wouldn’t.”         “Just try me.”         And he did. Not for a second had he believed that she’d go through with the threat, given how their intimate life, for the lack of a better term, was incredibly active. But as he was grinding his hips into hers one night, palms gripping and reacquainting themselves with Y/N’s body, she suddenly made him sit upon his knees, as she trailed a palm down his chest.         “I wanna uh,” she stammered out and bit her lip. “I wanna try something.”         Excitement glinted in his blue eyes. “Anything you want, dollface,” Billy replied before kissing down her neck.         In the meantime, Y/N flipped them over, so she was on top, and from the underside of his pillow she pulled out a silk scarf. Teasingly she lifted her eyebrow and motioned for him to put his hands against the metal bed frame.         “You know, if it was anyone else, I’d never let them do this to me,” Billy moaned out as Y/N sucked on a particularly sensitive spot on his neck after she had secured his hands above his head.        The knot was tight but not so tight that it didn’t allow blood flow to his fingers. In truth, he’d never even allow the thought to be restrained like that with anyone else but her.        After the whole Mind Flayer thing, one of Billy’s biggest fears was to not be in control of his body and his actions, but with Y/N he felt safe and loved, so he’d indulge in her little games whenever she wanted to. And he’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel eager to see where this would go.         “If it was anyone else,” Y/N muttered in his ear and nipped at the lobe making a shiver ripple down his spine. “Then you and her, would be six feet under.”         It was thrilling to be in that position as he let her have all the control. It was thrilling to be trying something new. Ever since Clara, they didn’t get much time to themselves, just a quickie here or there, or their lazy morning sex disrupted by a two-year-old babbling something along the lines of breakfast as she’d climbed out of her crib and was trying to wiggle the doorknob open.         “Oh, and one more thing,” Y/N whispered against the skin of his neck, making Billy practically shake in anticipation before it was all washed away by confusion. “I told you not to scratch.”         And she was off of him, back to her side of the bed with a book in her hands like nothing had happened.         Billy was still a bit dazed from all of the lust, so he just managed to whimper out a ‘what?’ before realization hit.         “Come on!” he groaned and tugged at the restraints. “You can’t be serious, baby! What kind of bullshit are you trying to pull here?”         “It’s not bullshit,” Y/N closed her book and crossed her arms over her chest. “I told you not to scratch, and yet there are clearly marks all over your sides.”         Struggling a bit Billy pushed his hip up and saw the angry red stripes he’d left over his scars and cursed under his breath. Y/N was very particular in how and where she touched him, the same way as he was with her, and the irritated skin was a dead giveaway.         After the Mind Flayer, Billy couldn’t even look at Y/N’s neck without bile rising to his throat at the memory of his own hands squeezing the delicate skin so hard she had passed out, and he’d left bruises that wouldn’t go away for almost two months.        And Y/N refused to touch his waist for almost half a year, afraid she’d cause him more pain where the monster had ripped into his sides. So, when Billy had confronted her about this, after months of barely-there hugs, after being so touch-starved by the one person who never shied away from giving all of her love, she spilt her guts to him.         Ever since then, he made sure, Y/N knew she could never hurt him, but even with that, she was afraid to cause any sort of pain, so the only way her hands would wrap around his waist would be to soothe and gently run over the marks, reminding him she loved him the way he was.         “But it itches,” he whined arching up from the bed and trying to twist around so he could somehow untie the scarf but his attempts were very much so unsuccessful.         “And it’s going to itch even more if you keep scratching at them,” Y/N emphasized the last three words before giving him a small peck on his lips and turning off the lamp. “Night baby, love you.”         Billy had just grunted in response and huffed, plopping down onto the mattress. When Y/N set her mind on something, she went through with it, including her plan of basically storming the Upside Down and blowing that place to smithereens.         He was wasting his breath by that point, as he continued to go on and on about why she wasn’t going or why it was a horrible idea to even think about going to the Upside Down, but Y/N looked bored to the point she might pass out.         Just as Billy was about to go on another rant that he would not let his wife, who’d just been possessed by the exact same monster that occupied the other dimension, the mother of their child, to go and fight it, Y/N sighed and interrupted him. “Look, I get it, and trust me, I have actually no desire to go there, but it’s the best chance at ending everything once and for all.”         Everyone’s eyes were on her, and Y/N hung her head as she started to explain. “How many more times can we fight that thing? How many more times can El close the Gate before it’s opened again? It’s like a cycle at this point, but where everyone welcomes autumn after the summer, I don’t think any of us wants to go through this shit again. I know it sounds completely crazy and has a like ninety-five percent chance of being a complete failure, but it’s the best shot we have at ending this. Forever.”         Silence fell over everyone, the only sound being the crackling in the fireplace. As much as they wanted to disagree, they knew Y/N was right. Too many times they’d fought the Upside Down, and every time it retaliated. It was just a matter of time before it won.         “Fine,” Billy practically gritted through his teeth, glaring at Y/N. “But if you’re going, so am I.”         The answer that came from her mouth made him want to punch a wall. “No, you’re not. If you don’t show up at Max’s graduation, it will look very suspicious”         “Even though the Mind Flayer already knows about everything?” Lucas snorted and shook his head just as Max said, “as if I’m going to that thing when we have interdimensional monsters after our asses.”         “Neil will have to show up. And after how big of a deal we, made this whole thing out to be," Y/N gave Billy a pointed gaze, "you have to be there. We can just say that something came up in San Diego with Clara, and I had to leave quicker, so my mom isn’t as suspicious, but everything else has to be as if it's just a normal day and nothing’s happened.”         “Uh, except everything’s happened,” Steve butted in, and Y/N rolled her eyes.         “Yeah, no shit, dingus, but we need to think strategies here. The people that have to show up since everyone expects them to show up-” and she pointed at each and everyone as she called their names, “Lucas, Dustin, Mike, Max, Will, and yes, you Alex too, stop shaking your head. The people that subsequently have to be there – Nancy, Johnathan, Joyce and you Billy. We don’t want El anywhere near the flayed, everyone thinks Hopper’s dead, and Steve and Robin could just pass off as if something came up or they partied too much.”         “So, your plan is to infiltrate a lab crawling with the Russian army with Steve ‘the Hair’ Harrington, Robin, a dead cop and El?” Billy crossed his arms in front of him, as if in defiance.        Sure, he knew El kinda had to go with, she was the only one who could close the gate for good, and Hopper was probably their best bet to defend Y/N and the rest, and he knew both Robin and Steve were smart enough to figure things out and hold their own when needed, but he just wanted to find a reason, needed to find a reason to either put himself in the group Y/N was in, or prohibit her from going.         She shrugged her shoulders before hissing, having completely forgotten about the throbbing wounds in her back. “And what’s wrong with that? We can use the tunnels from Benny’s and given how the Demogorgon’s back, it means there are portals open. I say we find one, use that as our entrance and line it and everywhere else that's possible, maybe even the other side of the Gate, with explosives, while the other group deals with the Gate and closes it once and for all.”         Max was nodding along to what Y/N was saying. It wasn’t a good plan, but most likely the best that they had. “And how will we know the other group is safe? How will we know they’re out, and the bombs can be detonated?”         Y/N huffed before replying. “Radios. We each take one, and then, once we’re out, we radio in.”         “One, where are you planning on getting explosives? And two – what about the Commies? I don’t think the Russians will welcome you with open hands.” Dustin asked before Billy could erupt again, and Y/N bit her lip before replying in perfect Russian that 'It won't be a problem.'         “Since when do you know Russian?” Billy asked with eyebrows so high up in his forehead they almost disappeared into his hair.         Y/N just shrugged. “After the last time thought it might be useful one day. Also, Hopper, can you call those friends of yours? The ones you know, who showed up to the epilogue of everything? We could use the manpower... and firepower…”         “Does any bit of your plan solely rely on the fact they’d be able to provide your mentioned explosives?” Hopper grunted but reached for the phone, that somehow was still in working order.        Only then did he realize that electricity was still running through the house, despite the numerous heaters he himself had plugged in. From the corner of his eye, he saw Joyce bristle a bit when he noticed that the line wasn’t dead and had to contain the small smile pulling at his lips. She’d taken care of his daughter and house….        "Dude, we so could've used you," Steve grumbled but didn't say anything else putting all of his attention onto the ex-police chief.          With a sigh, Hopper punched in the number that would connect him to the DoE, and an awkward silence settled all over.        Alex, Max and Mike were all rocking back and forth on their feet, Robin was leaning against the wall, chewing on her nail, while Steve, Nancy, Johnathan, Joyce, Dustin and Lucas had all thrown themselves down onto the floor, Billy having made Y/N sit on the only available chair in the room.         As the heat from the heaters slowly dissipated, another kind of wave flushed over them, and it could only be described as anxiety.        Millions of questions that didn’t need to be uttered out loud swirled in their heads. What if they didn’t answer? Would the plan work? Was it even in the realm of possibility for it to be successful?         “This is uhhhhh, Jim uhhh Hopper…?” he said his name in a way that seemed like he himself didn’t know, which made everyone, but Joyce’s heads snap up in confusion. “I got this number from Doctor Sam Owens, I called a few years ago…?”         “Is he for real?” Y/N hissed at Billy? This could not go any smoother…         A little pause settled as Hopper racked his brain for whatever it was, they were asking for, when he suddenly snapped his fingers and said, ‘Antique chariot’.         The hand that was not holding the phone turned into a fist. “Yes, I know that the person whose code it is, is dead, but I’m not dead. As you can clearly see – hear. Now can you please send someone to Hawkins? Shit’s going down. Again.”         Whoever was on the other line was not making him happy as he practically slammed his hand through the wall. “Look, just tell Owens the Russians kept me somewhere in fucking Siberia, and I’m alive, and that the Russkies have opened the Gate. Again! I need back up, a lot of it, and send them to the Hawkins Lab.”         Another beat passed.         “Yes, I know, Jim Hopper has been proclaimed dead, but I’m not dead!”         A reluctant sigh escaped his mouth before he banged the phone onto the receiver and put his hands on his hips.         “Are they coming?” Steve asked arms crossed much like Robin’s, and his shoulders dropped as Hopper shrugged.         “I don’t know. He said my message would be relayed” his rough voice was filled with resignment and yet was somehow determined. “But we don’t have time to waste on waiting. We gotta start doing something. Now.”         Nancy clapped her hands. “Let's go then.”         That set everyone into motion. As the Party started to gather up all the aluminium foil and took out the heaters from the plugs, Billy pulled Y/N by her bicep to the side, and said, “I’m going where you’re going.”         “Billy,” Y/N muttered cupping his cheeks, and he practically melted against her touch. “You have to go. You might be the only one that could get through to him.”         He almost scoffed but just shook his head. “There’s no getting through to Neil; there’s no point.”         “El got through to you. When even I couldn’t, El was able to…” a sympathetic yet understanding look came over her face. “Don’t cross him off, just because he’s a shitty person. I now you want a reason to not try. Trust me, I do… but if there’s even a small possibility we can get that thing out of him, we have to at least make an attempt. If only because he’s a person as well.”         “A fucking despicable one,” Billy grumbled not looking into Y/N’s eyes.         “No one’s arguing about that,” she said, but he wasn’t budging. “I’m not saying you have to mend your relationship after this is over, I’m not saying you have to even talk to him, after we’re done with this shit… we can leave everything behind, but we have to try and save everyone we can..."         “Okay,” he softly whispered. “But you have to promise me to stay out of harm’s way.”         Y/N’s head tilted to the side, ready to say she couldn’t give him that, there was no way she could promise something that was in no way in her control, but he shook his head.         “If I’m doing this, if I’m going against my dad, you have to promise me, you’ll stay safe. If Hopper tells you to step back, you get out of the fucking room. If El says to run, you bolt like fucking hell… I just,” Billy shuddered at the words about to come out of his mouth. “I just can’t lose you, okay? I won’t be able to go on. Too much bad shit’s already happened because of me, because I pushed you away, and now you’re making me do the one thing I really don’t want; you’re making me be somewhere, where I don’t know you’re safe, where I can’t protect you, so please... do this one thing for me...”         Desperate tears threatened to slip down her cheeks, but Y/N held them at bay. Her crying wouldn’t help anything, and there really weren’t any words that could quench his fear, as there was nothing, he could say that would stop the icy emotion from taking over her own mind, so she only tightened her grip around his palm.          “Just,” Billy struggled to get the words out of his mouth but swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat. “Just come back to me, okay? Preferably in one piece without a single strand on your hair amiss, but just… come back to me…”         Y/N nudged his nose with her, and a small smile pulled at the corner of her lips. Even in a moment where they both were talking about their possible deaths, she could take some of his worries away, despite her not knowing it. “Hey, I already did, cause your stubborn ass wouldn’t let go of me. And as long as you do the same, we have a deal.”         “Dollface, you are stuck with me. Till the very bitter end.”         Then his lips were on hers. Urgent, passionate, like fire flowing through his veins, he kept their mouths pressed together for as long as possible, and Y/N was in no way pulling back.         Despite the burning sensation of pain that rushed all the way down her back and even to her heels, she lifted her arms so they could drape across his shoulders, and her fingers tangled into the damp mess that was Billy’s dirty blond curls.         She tugged at them, begging him to come closer, but only a thin layer of clothing and their skin were what separated the two.         “Good,” Y/N gasped out as Billy finally allowed both of them to come up for some air. “I better be. Though it won’t be bitter,” Y/N remarked as she pulled back and squeezed his hand one last time in comfort. “I prefer sweet things rather than sour ones. Just look who I married –“ she used her palm to gesture at him stepping away, “the mushiest guy in Hawkins.”         And although it was supposed to be lighthearted, although she was trying to make him feel better, with every step that Y/N took to join her group and discuss how they were going to go about things, Billy memorized each and every curve, dip and line of her body. He’d done it a million times before and was sure he’d never be able to forget any single detail, but knowing where she was going, who she’d be up against and who he himself would be facing, made Billy want to sear the image of her face in his mind.         A hand on his shoulder brought him out of the thoughts.         “You okay?” Max asked as he saw Nancy sport a compassionate look on her face as her eyes drifted away from her ex-boyfriend. Just because she wasn’t with Steve anymore and hadn’t been for years, didn’t mean she didn’t love him in her own way. And she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t relieved Johnathan wasn’t going with them to the Upside Down.         Billy nodded giving his sister a tight-lipped smile. “I’m fine. Let’s get this show on the road.”         With the first rays of the sun, his group piled into Nancy’s car, and with a longing look, he watched as Y/N slowly with El’s help stepped into the back of Hopper’s wagon.         ‘I love you’ he mouthed in her direction and received a smirk in response. Fuck did he love that smirk.         ‘I know’ she mouthed back before the doors were closed.         “Nerd,” he muttered under his breath as Nancy revved up the car, and it sprung to life.         They’d finish this shit once and for all.         And then they’d leave Hawkins forever and would not look back. Billy would make sure of it.

Tags (crossed out wouldn't take):

Billy’s tag list: @la-reina-tigresa @youcanstandundermyumbrella

Hawkins’ Charm tag list: @genius2050 @aiifandomsunite @ashleymarieriffle @littlefool-smalljester @infinitelycharmed23 @llcalumllhoodll @benevolentgemini @rxmanovbby @euphoniumpets @krazykatykat456 @believerofall @ccidk @babechief @meganmj @blackhood5sos @fml9603 @noodlenerd101 @universefinds @kuroidesuchloe @im-a-stranger-thing @grxxn-gardxns @springholland @beforethebraces @robinisourlesbianmom @queeneliza108 @neenaw-neenaw @lexisntthatweird @choicesismylife​ @mckenzie2020 @kcd15 @snuggleducky @reckless-sofia @didyouseetheflair @silver-winter-wolf @jay-ta-blog @hopeless-lovex0 @anyasthoughts @robinismyqueen @yeah-butyourenot-dacremontgomery @mcrganstarks @psychoticobsession @cutehipstergirl25 @sbfandom @mickmoon @jackyfrost01 @txhmine @dark-princess99 @morgangrice18 @changingmylifestyle367 @sweetdayme4427 @alowexpectation @sexyvixen7 @golddvstwoman @evelynfreakinaddams @sunfucked @sataninsatin @queenbbarnes @venomavocado @rangotangomango @psychosupernatural @sereiins @frickin-bats @bandsruinedmylife @thee-brunette-princess @queenskyster @aspiring-fangirls-world @gracethegeek9902 @katiexdacre @dreamwavej @escaping-reality21 @void-fire-rose @slvtherinseeker @paranoiadestroyah @arromite @jojo-buttercup @danarysstormborn @graveyard--baby--666 @teller258316 @hello-therree @stqrker @bethanystan @enthusiastoffandoms14 @i-bitch-you-bitch @the-first-breath-of-autumn-air

Forever tags: @lumelgy @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @breezy1415 @crazy--me @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @s-c-a-r-e-d-po-t-t-e-r @reblogger-not-a-blogger @m-a-t-91 @dalilx @i-need-a-hero-i-need-a-loki @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @in-the-end-im-still-trash @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @sweet-ladyy @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees @bnhvrdy @tvwhoresblog @celebsimagines @thatkindofgurl @sj-thefan @teenwolflover28

A/N: tell me what you thought :)

P.S. my tags are always open :)

#billy hargrove #billy hargove x reader #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove x y/n #dacre x reader #dacre montgromery #dacre montgomery x reader #dacre montgomery x you #dacre montgomery imagine #dacre montgomery x y/n #stranger things #stranger things season 3 #strangerthingsedit #stranger things 3 #stranger things spoilers #stranger things 3 spoilers #netflix #netflix stranger things #series #reader insert #hawkins’ charm #hawkins #hawkins indiana #steve harrington #eleven #billy hargrove smut #dacre montgomery #dacre montgomery smut

[nostalgicnoise]

Rap Playlist

Atmosphere- Sound is Vibration

Binary Star- Honest Expression

Living Legends- After Hours

EARTHGANG ft. J.I.D- Meditate

Common Market- Tobacco Road

Aceyalone- Show Em A Better Way

Cunninglyguist ft. Masta Ace- Seasons

Pham ft. Yung Fusion- Movements

J. Cole- Caged Bird

6lack- Prblms

French Montana ft. Swae Lee- Unforgettable

Masego- Veg Out

Bazzi- Paradise

Roddy ricch- Down Below

Juice Wrld- Wishing Well

Ryan Caraveo- Never Did

Beartrap- do re mi

Atmosphere- Sunshine

Arizona Zervas- Roxanne

Russ- Goodbye

The Grouch- Breathe

The grouch and Eligh- People of the Sun

Quinn XCII- Another Day in Paradise

Nappy Roots-Good Day

ODISSEE- Own Appeal

J. Cole- False Prophets

Isaiah Rashad- 4r Da Squaw

Bazzi- I.F.L.Y

EARTHGANG- Artificial

Windchill- Pay Homage

Dyme Def- Let It Be

Jedi Mind Tricks- Heavy Artillery

Bliss and Eso ft. Watsky- Tear Off the Roof

Soulcrate- Sleep Awake

Language Arts Crew- Lazy Daze in California

Nipsey Hussle- Hussle and Motivate

Cam Meekins- Better Days

CALABORATE- 4 Willem

Bas ft. Cozz- Dopamine

Gang Starr- Moment go Truth

People Under the Stairs- Montego Slay

Language Arts Crew ft. XI- 9 to 5

Watsky- Pink Lemonade