a line tank top

Bruise [ II ]

Genre [Rating] : Angst [M]

Length: 10.3k

Pairing: Chanyeol x Reader

Summary: He wasn’t yours, and you weren’t his, but that couldn’t stop your heart from believing otherwise.

Bruise Masterlist

Originally posted by pcycho61

The cool air whipping at your skin made a shiver spread along your spine, hands rubbing at your biceps as your teeth chattered behind your pressed together lips. Loud laughter and screams filled the air, the night lit up by warm orange hues of carnival rides and haunted houses. Your feet felt stiff, trapped in a pair of uncomfortable sneakers you regretted wearing, eyes glued to the back of Minseok’s head as he told your friends something apparently hilarious. It was far too cold out to be stuck in a stupid line for a stupid haunted house in a tank top and torn up skinny jeans. You were too annoyed to continue being stuck in front of Chanyeol and Sehun as they flirted with a group of girls behind you, Chanyeol’s cologne wafting to your nose whenever he moved his arms about.

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Klance at a pride parade!!

-lance would go All Out and wear little bi pride heart stickers on his cheeks and so much glitter lance loves glitter

-tell me my baby boy Lance doesn’t have the cutest lil tie dye crop top in bi pride colors

-Keith’s emo ass wears a black tank top that just says “im gay” in rainbow letters and lance makes him wear shorts bc lance loves his Boyf’s tooshie

-keith also paints his nails in pride colors I don’t make the rules you guys

-lance is usually a pretty spirited person but he’s a l i v e at pride festivals. Especially when he’s with keith

-keith isn’t a big fan of crowds so it takes him a while to warm up but seeing lance so happy makes his heart sing and he’s all in

-they’re attached at the hip the entire day and they’re always Smoochin

-keith is covered in blue lipstick smudges bc lance definitely also rocks some lipstick

-they also end up stupidly plastered and lance is such a giggly drunk ok and he is so Long and Lanky all his limbs are just slung around keith

-keith is really pretty ok and a lot of boys try and hit on him and he is so flattered but he quickly dismisses them and introduces them to his wonderful Boy

-oh my god they’d just be so gross and in love at pride fight me

-lance posts a million off guards of keith smiling n bein cute on instagram

-keith is usually pretty MIA on social media aside from his snap streaks with hunk and pidge but he posts a lot of pics of he and lance being happy and In love at pride

-keith gets hella sunburnt bc he refuses to listen to lance about skin care and now he’s got major tan lines from his tank top and lance makes fun of him

Pool balls and underpants

Summary: Bucky offers to teach you how to play pool, but he ends up in a slightly awkward predicament.
Characters: Bucky x Reader
Warnings: Language, lots of innuendos, Bucky being little shit
Story prompt: “I made the mistake of thinking ‘This can’t get weirder.’ Sorry.”

A/N: First time I’ve done a writing challenge of any kind, thanks @jurassicbarnes​ for letting me take this one!  I haven’t written anything fluffy in awhile, this felt necessary, and it may require a smutty style follow-up. Also, while I may be a complete shit talker IRL, I am terrible at pool and don’t know what I’m doing, so hopefully this makes sense. And I really need to find someone to edit my wordy ass…

A/N 2: Oh look, I wrote a sequel. Another kinky wager.


Originally posted by go-fandom-imagines

It was a little known fact – you adored dive bars. Everything smells musty? Great. All the tables feel sticky? Perfect. The decor resembles a 1970’s porn set? Bitchin.

It was a complete contradiction to your work persona. Your name was uttered in hushed, reverent tones in the halls of the Avengers compound, commonly followed by the phrase ‘that woman gets shit done.’ Frankly, you worked your ass off to get to this point, so the satisfaction of being known as the one who was always cool, always calm, always poised – it was a heady feeling.

It’s because of your rigid work environment that you gravitated toward the local bar. It was one place you could let your guard down, unwind and relax. Distancing your professional and personal life was a necessary ingredient in your sanity, a dichotomy you actively encouraged.

And then one day out of nowhere, Bucky Barnes swaggered into your life.

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Healing Tensions*

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader
Rating: Mature - 18+ only
Summary: An enhanced Reader puts her life at risk on a mission and gets injured once again. Steve - her ex-boyfriend - can’t stand this situation anymore and when he cleans her wounds, they take this opportunity to bring back some memories.
Word Count: 3.1k
Genre: General/light angst
Warnings: Some swearing, an injured Reader, mentions of blood and one of alcohol, pretty heavy sexual tension, slight graphic description of the wound and Steve being protective. You know me, so wait till the end and you’ll read something interesting like mild smut.
Author’s Note: It’s set before the events happening in Avengers: Age of Ultron.

Gifs used below aren’t mine, credit to the rightful owners.

Walking out of the brand-new Quinjet in the hangar, the blinding sun, setting in Manhattan’s sky welcomed you as the exhausted Avengers headed towards the same Tower they all lived in. Your main headquarters that Tony had named after your group of heroes since the tragic Tesseract events.

Several out of breaths former S.H.I.E.L.D. doctors waited close to the double doors of the medical bay as some of your teammates approached them whilst Natasha cradled an arm against her chest, the other wrapped around Clint’s shoulder while a bullet hole decorated her bicep.

This had become familiar since S.H.I.E.L.D. had fallen and you’d declared a war against Hydra, searching for Loki’s powerful scepter. Yet, when you had gotten used to this ballet- among all these things around you, your mind couldn’t get used to one thing. Or one man.

Steve Rogers. Your ex-boyfriend, a man you’d met when you were a spy, considered as a promising Agent Maria Hill, or even Melinda May. The first time your eyes had crossed, something had happened. You had thought about this cliché several times, but it was real. You shared this unexplainable connection with him and since this moment, you’d never left each other’s side, being close friends who secretly loved each other… and then lovers.

A bit more than a year of love, worries, passion, wounds and sweetness together and you had to stop everything for everyone’s safety. As the policy forbade relationships between co-workers, you’d tried to not let your feelings get in the way, but it had never been easy. Too much had been engaged between you and being together when stability wasn’t the favorite word made you choose to go separate ways in the painful path of romance.

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anonymous asked:

I was just thinking the other day...if Seven was an agent, he would have scars and stuff from his field work, right? And I was wondering how MC would react when she saw them. Do you think you can write it for me? Can it included your signature fluff and kisses and all that too <3 Sorry if it's too weird.

That’s actually an interesting idea, and I think you’re definitely right. He would. I hope this is something along the lines of what you wanted! Enjoy~

Scars were inevitable. MC knew this. Whether internal or external, everyone had them. Ultimately, they were a gift to form stronger, brighter souls that could only be culminated from the rigorous trial called life.

But he had so many of them…and she was sure that wasn’t fair.

Saeyoung remained ignorant of her wandering eyes as he continued to sleep peacefully on the loveseat. She hadn’t meant to stare, really. She was just passing by when the glimpse of a white jagged line peaked out from underneath his tank top. The one scar led to another…and to another until MC was practically creating new constellations with the faded marks.Her fingers followed her intrigue, tracing the silvery skin.

She wondered if they were from his time at the agency…or from his childhood. Both experiences were riddled with sorrow and pain–emotionally and physically. For some reason, the thought made her heart clench. It really wasn’t fair.

She was too lost in her thoughts to notice the glimpse of gold peeking out from under Saeyoung’s closed lids until it was too late. His hands darted out, grabbing her middle and flipping her onto the couch. She let out a small cry, tensing until he sandwiched her between him and the back of the seat.

His laughter almost sounded diabolical, and she shoved him back for good measure. “Saeyoung, that wasn’t funny!” she complained, pressing a hand over her pounding heart.

“It was sort of funny,” he countered, wiggling his hips victoriously. He tapped his chin and narrowed his eyes at her. “But more importantly, I believe I caught a little creeper. Why were you staring at me?”

Her cheeks burned under his sharp gaze, and despite the smirk curling his lips, she couldn’t share in his buoyancy. She tucked her hands under her head and shimmied further back into the sofa. He only inched forward in response. “I-I wasn’t staring,” she mumbled, finding great interest in the couch threads.

“No?” Saeyoung said with a tilt of his head. He propped himself on one elbow so he loomed above her. “From my calculations, a pair of gorgeous eyes were looking at me for exactly thirty seconds. That’s staring, sweetie.”

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BTS Reaction | seeing you tanned and with bikini marks

request: “Hi! Can you do a reaction of the boys when they see you super tanned and with bikini marks? Thank u!”

Kim Seokjin

You lay in bed on a lazy Sunday afternoon as Jin jokingly said: “You really love the sun, don’t you?” He gently stroked over your back, admiring your tan lines. “I never noticed how tanned you got but I love it.”

Min Yoongi

He walked towards you from behind and wrapped his arms around your waist then placing soft kisses on your neck. “You got pretty tanned lately.” He would say while pushing the fabric of your shirt to the side to reveal your prominent tan lines. “I love it.”

Kim Namjoon

His look rested on you as he watched you slowly undressing to take a shower. “Woow. Baby, how do you get to tanned?” Namjoon jumped out of the bed and walked over to you. “I like that. Maybe I should join you?”

Jung Hoseok

His hands slid under your shirt pulling it over your head to reveal your bikini marks. “Sweetie. I never noticed that you got so tanned.” He would think it’s quite sexy and pace kisses along the lines around your neck. “Can you even get more beautiful?” 

Park Jimin

You wore a tank top that clearly showed your tan lines that you got recently much to his surprise. “You’re so tanned baby. I love your current skin tone.” He would gently stroke along your lines, making you shiver under his touch. “I wonder what they look like under this shirt?”

Jeon Jungkook

“How can you even get so tanned? Every time I try, I just get a sunburn.” He kissed along your neck where the bikini marks were the striking his eyes. “I love your darker skin tone. It suits you perfectly.”

Kim Taehyung

He took your arm and held it besides his to compare your skin tones to one another. “You really are tanned right now. I look like a ghost besides you.” He looked up and gave you a warm smile. “I love it. You look pretty as always.”

anonymous asked:

Prompt number 3 and clexa if that's ok :)

Clarke couldn’t sleep. Again. She lay in her bed staring up at the ceiling of her dorm room, listening to the whirring of Raven’s fan from across the room. She couldn’t shake the vibrations of the week, the echoes of moments still lingering on her skin and in her breath. She felt coiled tight and clenching, too stiff. She needed to be stirred, shaken, broken free.

Blips of sound danced in her ears, whispers of laughter, of sharp inhales. Her head was mess, a blur of images. Wide green eyes, searching, hands touching and pulling back, fingers trembling. Breath held. And held and held and never released.

There had always been tension, something challenging and terrifying and wonderful. Something new and guarded, something to tiptoe around. Something to be cautious of and with. Something needing care and time. And courage. Courage neither she nor her best friend seemed to have.

For the longest time, Clarke thought it was only her. That hers was the only heart experiencing that gently stirring, dizzied up between her ribs. That hers were the only palms slick with nerves. That hers were the only thighs clenching at the sound of a particular octave, at the rush of a burst of laughter, at the warm press of back to chest. She thought she was the only one who felt this way, that Lexa Woods was just the stirring, just the nerves, just the octave, the laughter, the warm press. Just the influencer, never influenced. Never affected. Never shaken up or excited or delightfully ruined by Clarke Griffin.

But she was wrong.

The closer they became, the more Clarke began to notice. She began to notice the way Lexa would squirm at her touch, reach for more but pull away at the last second. The way Lexa held her breath when Clarke cuddled close after a late night or dragging party, a study session that seemed to go on for days, when they were too tired to find their way to their separate rooms, separate beds, and would collapse into the nearest instead. The way Lexa’s gaze darted to Clarke’s lips when they found themselves suddenly close, too close, the exact right amount of close. The way her gaze would drop and linger, pop back up and then drop again. The way Lexa’s eyes sparkled when she made Clarke laugh, when they would find each other in an easy moment, relaxed and open, and give a little more than usual. Easy affection they could pass off as friendly but always felt like so much more.

Clarke realized, after so terribly long, that she was just as much the influencer as Lexa. They problem was neither seemed willing to admit it. Neither seemed willing to do much more than toe the line. But Clarke was tired, and she was aching. She was terrified and thrilled and desperate just to know.

She couldn’t keep dancing around this, whatever this was that existed between she and Lexa. This wonderful torture.

She stared up at the ceiling and thought about the week they’d had. They’d walked around campus, lay in the grass with open textbooks neither bothered reading. Lexa’s open hand lay in the grass near Clarke, and she reached for it. She traced her fingers along Lexa’s, over her palm, and down her forearm.

“What are you doing?” Lexa had asked, a nervous laugh on her lips. Her breath hitched as Clarke traced higher, up over the curve of Lexa’s bare shoulder, to the line of her tank top, and then back down.

Clarke had only shrugged and let it be what it was. Something silent and sensual. Something she wanted, something she didn’t want to have to justify.

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anonymous asked:

Sombra, widowmaker, Genji with a s/o who has a lot of scars, what do they do when they first see them?

I am so sorry for the long wait! Hope you enjoy ^-^


She sees them when your top rides up during a late night movie marathon

  • After a moment wondering whether or not to, she pauses the movie to ask you about them
  • She’s rather blunt, but you can tell she’s only asking because she cares
  • She also wants to know everything, asking about each individual scar

You go through each one and tell her its story

  • Her listening more intently and being quieter than you’ve ever seen before
  • At certain points, you can see her wince when you describe a particularly painful one
  • Afterwards, she thanks you for sharing your stories with her, as thats what she sees scars as, stories to be told
  • She feels she knows you even better than before and couldn’t be happier


She sees some of the scars on your arm when you roll up your sleeves in order to get on with a task

  • Grabs your arm instantly, but gently, tracing them with a touch of her finger you can hardly even feel
  • When you try to snatch your arm away to get her not to fuss she just raises an eyebrow at you and continues
  • You sigh and let her inspect them, knowing that she’d just pester you about them otherwise

Only when she has finished inspecting them does she say a word

  • Asking you how you got specific ones, still tracing them lightly
  • The tracing at this point was actually quite comforting
  • When you’d told her everything she wanted to know, she nodded and left the room
  • You smiled, knowing that meant she had completely accepted them as a part of you


He sees them when you’re washing your face in the mirror one morning

  • Wearing a tank top that exposed a line of scars on your back
  • He tilts his head, wondering why he hadn’t seen them before
  • When he realises you’d probably been covering them on purpose, he frowns
  • He knows what its like to not be happy in your own skin

He walks right on up behind you and gently kisses the largest scar on your shoulder blade

  • Making you jump and turn to him questioningly
  • He just smiles at you, cups your cheek for a moment and leaves
  • He may not be great with words, but he always knew just what to do
  • You didn’t hide your scars from him again from then on
Jealousy is a Blue-Eyed Monster

Pairing: CastielXReader

Word Count: 1995

A/N: Smutty smut smut warning, mature readers only please. Mild Dom!Cas. It’s slightly longer, so I’m throwing in a Keep Reading break before the smut, so, you know, keep reading! One-shot written for @roxy-davenport ’s Lexie Carver SPN Writing Challenge. Prompts - #62 “Are you jealous?” and #54 “Did you write me a love letter?”

“And this one is courtesy of a shifter in Portland three years ago, no four,” you lifted your tank top up, revealing a straight line milky scar stretching from your armpit to under your breast, “Strong bastard, turned my knife on me. It was a clean cut - I’d just sharpened the blade.”

Dean leaned closer to examine the scar, pursing his lips in approval, “Nice work, did you stitch it yourself?”

“Super glue and duct tape,” you grinned, “trick I picked up from Bobby.”

Dean whistled, “Impressive, but I’ve got better.” He jumped up, unzipping his jeans and dropping them down to reveal his boxers. He lifted one leg up on the couch next to you, peeling the boxers up his thigh to reveal a quarter-sized dense purple marbled scar.

“What the hell?” you ran you fingers inquisitively over the scar, “That’s no bullet or stab wound.”

“Arrow, tipped with flaming holy oil,” a proud smirk plastered across his face, “and FYI, don’t ever give Sam a crossbow.”

“Friendly fire! You win!” laughing, you threw your hands up in the air, conceding defeat.

Dean chuckled, fishing his discarded pants off the floor, “Loser makes the beer run.” He winked at you, grabbing a bottle off the table and taking the last swig.

“What is going on here?” Cas’ gravelly voice boomed the instant he appeared, taking in the sight of you and Dean, stripped down to your skivvies. He glared at Dean angrily, jaw clenched.

You flinched at the harsh tone of his voice, peeking over the couch back to look at him. In the shadows behind him, you could almost make out the outline of his wings spanning threateningly across the room.

“Woah, nothing happened Cas,” Dean raised his arms in surrender and backed several steps away from you, “innocent fun comparing old scars.”

Both Dean and Cas’ postures relaxed as you looked between them, noting with curiosity that they shared a brief look of unspoken understanding.

“Actually, I think I’ll make the beer run, grab some fresh air,” Dean collected his shirt from the arm of the couch, pointing at you, “You owe me one.”

You lifted your chin and nodded - watching as Dean exited the room, giving Cas a wide berth.

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Good Night, Starlight

A very, very belated HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!! to dearest @regolithheart​, who is just so sweet and talented and kind and amazing. The beginning to a silly, long adventure for Cress and Thorne ♥


Months after the events of Winter, Cinder has a new job for Cress and Thorne: deliver a few crates full of letumosis antidotes and bioelectricity chip prototypes to a research lab in Hawaii. Easy, right? They’ve already been doing it for months–travelling the world, seeing the sights, dropping off cures, helping people.

It should be a routine mission. They expect a routine mission. But when they arrive in Hawaii, everything immediately starts going wrong. A few of Thorne’s shadier acquaintances show up out of the blue, and immediately after, the research lab goes into full lockdown following a break in. Cress and Thorne are thrust into a pursuit across the sea to prove their own innocence, and end up discovering a plot that might shake up the precarious peace Cinder and Kai have managed to build between Earth and Luna.

They also manage to make new friends, connect with their family, and build their home on the Rampion. Let it not be said that the path to happily ever after was easy.


Stars drift like snowfall past the windows of her satellite.

Cress watches, and waits.

Behind her, the pale blue hologram of Little Cress dances in the starlight. Her dress twirls around her, and her bare feet trip and jump and skip easily around the only floor she has ever known. A soft melody drifts from the speakers, and her little voice hums along–old Italian opera, country-western, a fast, upbeat pop song all at once. Every few notes, static buzzes discordant through the blank netscreens, then fades quiet beneath the music.

She dances, and hums, and in the reflection, Cress watches.

“What are you waiting for, Big Sister?” Little Cress sings.

Waiting? Cress is… dreaming. She’s dreaming. And, she feels, pressing her hand against the worrying knot in her chest, waiting for something important.

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“Capturing Her Damaged Heart”

Rated M. See chapter 1 for list of warnings. I do not own Fairy Tail, Hiro Mashima does.

Summary: A deadly disease plagues the world. People are dying, the dead are rising. The infection spreads too fast to stop. Everyone tries their best to survive in this post-apocalyptic world, but things get messy for Natsu when he finds a blonde woman on one of his missions. Natsu takes it upon himself to help her, protect her, and accidentally fall in love with her? Zombie Apocalypse AU. Hurt/comfort, angst, romance.

Read Chapter: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10

Read on FF.net or AO3.

Warning: Contains slight disturbing imagery.

Chapter Nine: Dinner is served

(October 4th, 2017, Wednesday Evening)

Gray’s muscles ached as he lifted his arms, exhaustion washing over him. He was finally done working, but it always left him sore and tired. He hated that he was good at killing zombies. Not only did it mean they assigned him the job of ‘clearer’, it also meant he had to spend most of his days off base.

He could never afford to relax while outside, never knowing when a zombie might come out and attack.

“You’re good,” Jellal said, working his way down the line of nude men.

Gray went to where his clothes were, shrugging them back on as quickly as he could. He had to wait until all the other clearers were finished being processed before he could leave, needing Jellal to tell Laxus and Elfman that they were good.

After Jellal gave the clearers the green light, they all filed out of the locker room. Some stayed in the arena, but Gray headed out. He wanted to get out of his clothes and into something more comfortable. Though, to him, comfortable meant nothing but his boxers. However, last time he did that, he got a scolding from Grandeeney because there were children present.

Gray headed towards the school, enjoying the cool air before he made his way into the building. His body felt stiff, bones creaking as he took his first step up the stairs. He regretted getting a room on the second floor, wishing he had fought harder to live on the first.

'Fuck walkers,’ he thought, only halfway up. 'Stairs are my enemy.’

When he entered his room, he stripped down to his boxers, letting his body air out as he sat at one of the desks. Despite the chilly air, he was still sweating from today’s work. He took down a decent amount of zombies, but it never seemed like enough.

No matter how many they killed, more popped up.

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Is That My Shirt?

A/N: Requested by @radxxregs . I have decided that flirty Bucky is my favourite Bucky and that I also got way too into this. It’s still a little shorter than I would’ve liked but it was fun to write! I hope you like it my dear c: 

Prompt: “Is that my shirt?”

Warnings: None just light teasing and flirting

Words: 956

Originally posted by justcuchu

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(nurseydex ofc + “quiet they can hear us”)

“Uh. What are you doing?” William Poindexter is curled into a ball far too tiny to actually be his body, wedged between the green sofa and the wall with a stricken look on his face.

“Shh! Quiet, they can hear us!” He whisper shouts. His hand shoots out and wraps around Nursey’s ankle and, a quick tug later, Nursey is half on the floor next to Dex and half on the green couch.

“Okay.” Nursey says plainly. “This is cool and all, but why are you hiding behind the couch, dude?” Dex unwraps his fingers from Nursey’s ankle, slowly. For a fleeting moment, Nursey mourns the warmth, the contact.

“I dropped a pie.” Dex says, eyes closed tightly, and Nursey gasps.

“A fineable offense.” He whispers sagely and Dex nods tersely.

“I have twenty-four dollars and fifty-three cents in my bank account and I still haven’t finished Christmas shopping. Holster and Ransom are out there, somewhere; it’s either the sin bin or Christmas presents, and I have the feeling they’re more into instant gratification than anything.” Nursey laughs and struggles to quietly make himself more comfortable. His back is pressed against the corner of the couch now, legs encroaching upon Dex’s already-lacking personal space. He shoots Nursey a half hearted glare, but moves a little to make room.

“Hm. Quite a predicament.” Nursey says and Dex rolls his eyes. “Dropping a pie is, what, a two dollar fine?”

“Four, since it was peach. You know Bitty uses ‘only the finest Georgia peaches, Dex!’” He imitates. Nursey snickers.

“You sound like a cartoon character.” Nursey chirps and Dex shoves his legs but is grinning hard.

“Shut up, you dick.” Nursey puts up his hands in resignation. “Okay, but I made the pie, mostly, so should that shave off at least fifty cents?” Nursey takes a minute to ponder the fact.

“You could ask them?” He says, referring to the sin bin police in question. Dex’s eyes go wide.

“I told them I was getting my wallet.”


“Two hours ago.”

“Oh.” Nursey’s eyes widen as well. “Evading fines is a taxable offense.”

“Yep.” Dex says, popping the ‘p’.

“Poindexter, you dumbass.”

“What! Sorry that I wanted to get you guys something nice for Christmas!” His eyes are closed again and he props his elbow up on Nursey’s shin. It hurts, a bit, but he likes the contact. “Fuck you guys, everyone is getting the ice off my blades for Christmas.”

“Dang, that’s worse than last year when you tried to knit everyone sweaters.” Dex shoves him again, harder.

“Dude, I gave Chowder and Bitty, like, the best fuckin’ sweaters known to man, sorry I didn’t have time to finish all of them.”

“I’m still holding out for that sweater, Poindexter.” Dex laughs loudly and it lights up the room. Nursey sighs.

William J. Poindexter!” A voice booms from the doorway. Dex’s eyes shoot open.

“Oh my god,” he groans, arm dropping before tightly gripping Nursey’s shin. His eyes are wide again. “Hide me, what the fuck.” He shimmies further into himself, pressing behind the couch tightly.

“Don’t think we cant’s see you!” Nursey hears Ransom shout. Then, he makes a snap judgement call and, against Dex’s protests, unfolds himself and stumbles up into Ransom and Holster’s line of vision. Both of them are wearing Samwell Men’s Hockey tank tops, black sunglasses, and red bandanas. Holster is cradling the sin bin in his arms like a newborn baby, or a wounded animal.

“Uh. Hey, guys.” Nursey smiles; he watches as their eyebrows rise above the line of their sunglasses.

“Hey, Nursey, have you seen Dex around?” Holster asks, walking towards the couch. Nursey does the same, as nonchalantly as he can, in hopes of keeping the pair from getting too close.

“Nah, I think I saw him up at the dorms a little while ago, though. Why?” Holster’s mouth sets to a tight line and he lifts his sunglasses, squints.

“I don’t believe you.” He says, bending a bit to be on Nursey’s level. Honestly, he’s a little intimidated, but the whole situation, how serious they’re taking it, undermines his fear. Ransom butts in.

“William J. Poindexter dropped a pie at 2:32 pm.”

“Two dollars!” Holster interjects.

“It was a peach pie.”

“Two more dollars!” Holster interjects again, slapping the back of his hand against his palm.

“It is now 4:17.” Ransom says and it’s in his captain voice, dear god.

“One additional dollar per hour it takes to pay the fine!”

“William J Poindexter owes the sin bin six dollars. There are four witnesses willing to testify.”

“Oh.” Nursey breathes. “Uh.” He reaches around to his pocket, pulls out his wallet. He pauses, looks at the d-men before him, pulls out a ten dollar bill. He bends over and drops it into the jar in Holster’s arms.

“Hm.” The pair make eye contact. “Allow us to deliberate.” Holster says and they begin discussing in hushed voices.

“We have decided to accept your payment on behalf of William J. Poindexter.” And then they’re gone.

“What the fuck.” Nursey groans dropping back down next to Dex. “I willingly signed up to be on this team, what the fuck.”

“Thanks, Nursey.” Dex laughs and begins to uncurl himself from behind the couch.

“No problem, man. Glad you’re not freaking out about me spending money on you, though.” He says, shoving at Dex’s shoulder. The other boy stretches his neck a few times and groans.

“God I was down there for too long.” Dex looks at Nursey thoughtfully. “But yeah, I dunno, I’ll just make it even. How about a brunch date?” Dex asks.

“How about a normal date?” Nursey fires back before he can think about what he said. Dex’s face goes blank.

“How about a normal date that happens to take place within the time frame typically accepted as 'brunch’?” Dex asks, the corner of his lips curling up.

“Hm,” Nursey pretends to think about it, as if his heart isn’t hammering in his chest so loud that he fears Dex might hear. “I think that would be a sufficient method of payback.” Nursey says with a sharp nod and puts his hand out for Dex to shake. The other boy rolls his eyes, grabs his hand, and pulls him forward before dropping a chaste kiss on his cheek, right below his left cheek bone. Nursey body goes warm, his entire face igniting.

“10 am tomorrow.” Dex says before leaving the room.