Lance usually loved picture day, as a self proclaimed pretty boy it really was his time to shine. That would be if he hadn’t of loses his contacts that morning and the only glasses he had were a pair of thick black wide frames that made him look like someone dressing up as a dork for Halloween. He never used to mind wearing glasses, but after he started high school, other people latched onto somthing to tease him about and well… there’s only so many times you can come back and find bi-eyes written across your locker before enough enough.
Lance had hoped to never have to go to school wearing his glasses again, however since he was legally blind without them he didn’t really have much choice.
————- “McClain!” Iverson Lance’s hated home room teacher yelled as Lance slipped into the class room “your late!” “Yeah I had to-” “No excuses! March to the principles office and hand over those joke glasses this instant!” Before Lance could protest Iverson had grabbed his glasses and shoved him into the hallway locking the door behind him. Lance half wanted to just hammer on the door until he was let back in but he was already on thin ice with Iverson… he didn’t need an excuse to be expelled. Lance sighed as he squinted trying to see to no avail. “Ok… come on Lancy Lance, you’ve walked down this hallway a million times, you could do it blind folded.” He mumbled to himself as he slowly made his way down the hall. For a little while everything was going fine, Lance even held his head up high thinking he could do this! That was until he walked right into someone sending whoever they were flying and Lance stumbling back. “WHAT THE HELL MY COMPUTER!” Lance cringed he knew that voice. It belonged to the scary smart Pidge. They had joined the school a couple months ago and already had a reputation for ruining the lives of anyone that crossed them. And Lance had just judging from the blurred pieces on the floor, that their precious computer had been broken. “Oh… man I’m so sorry.” “You will be!” Pidge yelled standing up and poking Lance in the chest. “You think you can purposely bump into me and get away with it!” Wait… Oh no they thought it was on purpose! “H-hang on a second! It was an accident!” “Please, you were looking right at me!” Lance felt his heat beat speed up and he took a couple steps back. “I didn’t see you I swear!” “Yeah sure you didn’t! I know your type, pretty rich boy who’s had everything handed to him on a silver platter! Well I won’t let you push me around!” Pidge sounded so angry but also a note of pain to their voice… Had they been bullied too in the past? “I really didn’t see you!” Lance tried but he doubted they believed him. He was finding it hard to breath as the familiar sensation of a panic attack came on. He had to get out of here. Lance spin on his heals and started to run, he couldn’t see where he was going but at the time he didn’t care. “LOOK OUT!” Lance turned his head in the direction of Pidge’s voice as his feet slipped out from under him and the last thing he rembered was staring up at the blurry ceiling and cursing himself for forgetting about the stairs, before suddenly their was pain… then nothing. ———————-
Lance woke up to someone slipping something into his face. He couldn’t figure out what it was, his whole body felt heavy and like his mind was disconnected from his body. Lance forced his eyes open only to wince at the intense light above him. The first thing he noticed was that he wasn’t looking at his bedroom ceiling, also that he could actually see. Suddenly as Lance tried to move an intense pain throbbing throughout his whole body became known. He groaned but continued to try and sit up. “Your awake!” Lance made a small noise of pain as he moved to look at Pidge a little surprised to see them sitting at the edge of his bed looking worried. “Y-yeah… what happened?” He asked rubbing his head only to find it bandaged. “You… you fell down two flights of stairs. Got a pretty bad concussion and maybe a broken rib or two. An ambulance is on its way.” Pidge looked down looking at their hands. Lance couldn’t understand why he could see then he realised someone must of gotten his glasses… Was it Pidge. “I’m sorry.” Lance smiled as he sat up in the bed wincing at the protest from his ribs. “What! Why?” Pidge asked. “Broke your computer.” Lance shrugged. When did he get so tired? Pidge sighed running a hand through her short messy hair “it wasn’t your fault… I checked out your prescription. Man it’s no wonder you bumped into me. Your like super blind.” Lance cringed “yeah… still sorry though. Please don’t… don’t hack in and use ‘puter powers to ruin my life.” Lance slurred finding it harder and harder to keep his eyes open. “Hu?… oh that” Pidge chuckled “they wouldn’t stop misgendering even after I told them I’m gender neutral. I only changed their grades back from what they payed me to do.” “Oh…” “Guess we both misjudged eachother?” “Guess so.” Lance smiled wondering why the world was getting blurry if he was still wearing his glasses. “Lance?” Pidge’s voice sounded distant and muffled like he was underwater. He saw their eyes widen in horror as Lance slumped backwards. He could see her yelling and a group of people came running in wearing green uniforms pulling a what Lance thought looked like a bed on wheels. That was a funny thought. Lance was sure he had only blinked. But when he opened his eyes again he was lying in a hospital bed with Hunk standing over him. “Hunk?” “Oh thanks god Lance!” Hunk yelled hugging him causing Lance to cry out in pain. “Ribs buddy, ribs!” Hunk let go sheepishly “sorry… but when I got a call from your mom that you were sent to hospital I was so worried! Why the hell weren’t you wearing your contacts or glasses!” Lance shrugged “Ivserson confiscated my glasses and I couldn’t find my contacts this morning.” A look of anger crossed Hunks usually kind features. Suddenly a thought came to Lance’s mind. How did Pidge get his glasses back? “Oh yeah you had a visitor a while ago. They left you a card.” Hunks easy smile returned as he handed over a folded piece of lined paper acting as a crude card. Lance opened it and chuckled quietly to himself.
'Dear Lance, Sorry for scaring you to the point of you trying to fly away, don’t do that again or I will use my hacking powers to ruin your life. -Pidge. Ps. Don’t worry about Iverson, I tatted him out to Principle Coran. Us four eyes gotta stick together.’
Lance smiled as he placed the card on his bed side table making a mental note to offer to get their computer fixed later on.
Are you jealous of Jimin bcs he was ranked higher than you for abs?
Jin: Nahh not really
Jin: Since he has the nicest physique out of all of us and he’s always willing to pose for me when I need him to.. but that’s just because he’s a very nice friend and is willing to help me with my art struggles!
Summary:You’re at your mom’s house with your kids when your husband sends you a very NSFW photo while he’s away.
Word Count: 1,116
Warnings: children (because apparently that needs a warning), a stubborn toddler, NSFW photo under the cut, embarrassment, sexting, implied smut
A/N: @wayward-girl sent me this photo and my brain just kicked into overdrive so… here ya go. This is also my (very late - I’m so, so sorry) submission for @frickfracklesackles‘s 1,000 Followers Celebration Challenge. My prompt was “I don’t know whether to worship at your feet or spank the living shit out of you.” and is bolded below.
Jared was in Los Angeles, shooting some promo shoot for something he wouldn’t tell you about. It seemed sketchy, but you shrugged it off for the most part. Packing up the kids, you headed for your mom’s house, knowing she’d listen to your worrying about there being another woman while also helping you with Jake and Lauren.
Day two without Jared, and you were missing him. You woke up that morning and shot him a text, just saying, “Wish you were here,” with a kissing emoticon. After laying in bed for ten more minutes with no reply, you sighed and planted your feet on the floor. Trudging to the kitchen, you clutched the warm black mug between your hands, savoring every single sip of the holy liquid you were taking in.
BTS Reaction - When another member finds your bralette in their room
Anonymous said: Could you do a reaction to where one of the other members finds your lacy bralette in their room please???
this is gonna be a little longer, I’m in a very write-y mood today lol This will be under a “read more” because it is kinda long!!!
You and Suga had been together for almost two years now - and you’ve only slipped up once. You were alone with Jin in the dorm while all the other boys, including Suga, went off to do their own thing. You walked out of the kitchen and into the living room, and shouted at Jin to see if he wanted to order take out while the other boys were away for the time being. When he didn’t answer, you quickly pulled out your phone and sent Suga a text:
When will you be home? I think Jin and I are going to order Chinese or something x
I’ll be home in five minutes babe, just wait for me before you order.
You smile at his reply and set your phone down, now looking around for where Jin might have disappeared to.
“Jin? C’mon, I’m hungry and Suga will be home in-” you stop as you open the door to Suga and Jin’s shared bedroom, revealing Jin, the most weirded out look on his face. In his fingers he lightly held onto your red, lacy bralette, as if it was the most disgusting thing he’d ever witnessed.
“Y/N. What. Is this?”
At that moment, Suga walks in and sees you standing in the doorway to his room, and steps aside to see Jin holding up your bra.
“Oh, shit. Sorry.” Suga laughs, and Jin starts doing one of his rants like the one he did in the Christmas VLive then flings the bra into a pile of dirty laundry that has yet to be finished. He begins to lecture you guys on the importance of cleaning up after yourselves when you’re “finished being little rabbits.”
Going with Harry to tape the BBC Radio 1 interview with Grimmy (Fluffy af)
Or when you have to keep secret that you filmed a video question for Harry…
“Nervous?” you ask before taking a large bite of toast with butter and jam.
“It’s just a normal chat with Nick,” he wipes the crumbs from your lip before you can swat his hand away, adding, “I’m just nervous for it to air.”
“Yeah, too bad we can’t be on the beach with Nicky when that happens,” you smirk from your perch on one of the tall stools by the breakfast bar.
Harry smacks your thigh lightly from his seat next to you, nearly spitting out his tea. “You know he hates when you call him that,” he tilts his head to the side as his body shakes silently with laughter.
“‘S’why I call ‘im that,” you say with a mouthful of jam.
Genre: Fluff, Little!Space, Daddy!Kink, slight omaroshi (NO SMUT)
Word Count: 4000
Summary:Dan had just about comfortably adjusted to his liking for falling into little space. And so, the pair thought they had experienced just about everything, but in the week to come, new situations seem to arise one after the other. Like what to do when friends visit, nightmares, accidents, tears; but nonetheless, nothing that can’t be fixed with a little bit of cuddling.
Author Note: Although this is part of a series, I think this chapter works on it’s own if catching up is not your thing. Otherwise, here are parts, 1, 2, 3.
resists Jughead’s offers of a late-night chat.
Word count: 1,765
A/N: this is what i’d like to call a wholesome mix of angst and fluff. enjoy!
Meet me in the hallway
Meet me in the hallway
I just left your bedroom
Give me some morphine
Is there any more to do?
(Y/N), a normally upbeat and cheerful person, was not acting
like her usual self that week. On
Monday, Jughead assumed it was exhaustion.
They had one of their late night talks with hot chocolate the night
before, and Jughead just figured she didn’t get much sleep after that. He decided not to bother her that much,
knowing how cranky she was when she was tired.
On Tuesday, her oddness continued. She was quieter than usual, and she focused
on her internship more than usual.
Jughead, although he was starting to grow suspicious, just waved it off.
“Are you okay?” he asked her during their short lunch
(Y/N)’s head snapped up from her phone. “Yeah, I’m fine,” she answered quickly,
taking another bite of her sandwich.
“You know, if there’s anything wrong-”
“I told you,” she interrupted him, “I’m fine.”
“Even if you’re fine,” Jughead reminded her, “you know you
can always talk to me.”
Just let me know I’ll
be at the door, at the door
Hoping you’ll come around
Just let me know I’ll be on the floor, on the floor
Maybe we’ll work it out
(Y/N) didn’t come to the internship on Wednesday, and that’s
when it suddenly hit Jughead that there was something very, very wrong with
“Where’s Miss (Y/L/N)?” Mrs. Williams, the receptionist,
asked with a tight smile.
“Honestly, I’m not sure. Do you
want me to text her?”
She shook her head.
“No, that’s alright. If you see
her later today, though, make sure she is aware that it is unacceptable for her
to ditch this internship. Unless it’s
for an emergency, of course, then it’s completely fine.”
Jughead, of course, knew better than that. He knew how dedicated (Y/N) was to this
internship, and he knew that something had to be amiss in order to make her
skip a day.
When he was finished for the day at his internship, he
walked back to the hotel, eyes down and hands in his pockets. He went up the stairs and stopped in front of
(Y/N)’s room. Cautiously, he tapped on
her door twice.
“I’m busy,” her muffled voice called from inside her room.
“Busy?” Jughead questioned from outside the door. “Busy, (Y/N)?
You didn’t even show up today!”
“Piss off, Jug,” her voice grew slightly louder, and Jughead
wasn’t sure if it was because she raised her voice or if she was approaching
He leaned his head against the door and sighed. “Can you please let me in?”
“I’m not leaving until you open this door,” he warned. “Either you come out or I’ll come in.”
“Then I hope you’re planning on staying out there all
I gotta get better,
gotta get better
I gotta get better, gotta get better
I gotta get better, gotta get better
And maybe we’ll work it out
(Y/N) thought he was bluffing. Hell, even Jughead figured that he was
bluffing. They were both proven wrong,
however, when he started dragging blankets from off his bed onto the floor
outside of (Y/N)’s door.
“What are you doing?” (Y/N)’s muffled voice asked from
inside her room. She heard rustling
outside in the hallway, and she knew it was Jughead.
“I’m waiting until you open up that door,” he answered,
spreading the blanket out in front of the door.
“Why?” she questioned.
“I told you,” he explained, “I’m not leaving until you talk
“Jug, I said I don’t want to talk,” she reminded him,
leaning her head against the door.
Jughead had his resting against the other side. “Besides, there are other people in this
hotel who will see you.”
“I don’t care.”
“Jug, please,” her voice grew weaker, “I don’t want to talk
“Listen, (Y/N),” he pressed his hand against the door, “I
know you don’t want to talk about it, and that’s okay. I’m not gonna make you talk about it until
you’re ready. So I’ll be here all night,
and whenever you feel like discussing it, I’m here.”
I walked the streets
Running with the thieves
‘Cause you left me in the hallway
Give me some more
Just take the pain away
(Y/N) didn’t know why Jughead insisted on staying outside
her door all night. She had made it
perfectly clear that she was not going to confide in him anytime soon, and yet
he still remained there. She started to
feel bad, knowing that the hotel hallway floor surely couldn’t be that
comfortable, even if he did have layers of blankets as cushioning.
“Jughead,” she whispered at midnight, “go to bed.”
“I am,” his sleepy voice grumbled.
(Y/N) rolled her eyes.
“I meant in your room.”
Although she couldn’t see it, Jughead sat up. “You know I’m not gonna do that,” he said,
shaking his head.
“Please, Jug,” she begged.
“I’ll be at the internship tomorrow, I promise. Just go back to your room, you’re not gonna
be able to get a good night’s sleep out there.”
“I’ll be fine, (Y/N).”
When she didn’t respond, Jughead placed his ear to the door, trying to
listen for movement. He heard a light
rustling sound, and a soft thump.
“Hold on a sec, Jug.”
The noises continued, and Jughead confusedly stared at the door
separating him from (Y/N). Finally, the
rustling ceased and (Y/N) sat right in front of her door.
“What was that?” he inquired after a moment of pure silence.
“I moved my blankets in front of my door,” she answered
“(Y/N), come on, sleep in your bed.”
She sarcastically placed her hand on her chin, pretending to
think. She didn’t even care that Jughead
couldn’t see her. “The funny thing is
that I’m pretty sure I just said that a few minutes ago, Jug. And what did you do? You ignored my protests.” Jughead didn’t respond. “So now, I’m doing the same to you.”
Just let me know I’ll
be at the door, at the door
Hoping you’ll come around
Just let me know I’ll be on the floor, on the floor
Maybe we’ll work it out
Neither of them could fall asleep that night.
Jughead wasn’t sure if it was because he had never slept so
close to (Y/N) before, even if there was a door separating them, or if it was
his concern for his friend.
When he closed his eyes, he imagined the barrier would disappear. He would roll over and wrap (Y/N) in his
arms, burying his head into her hair. He
would whisper sweet nothings to her as she sobbed into his chest, explaining
why she had been acting so strangely for the past few days.
But then he’d open his eyes, and the door would
reappear. He knew that even if (Y/N) did
open her door, he wouldn’t hold her the way he dreamt. That would cross the line between friendship
and something more, and Jughead knew (Y/N) was not about to take that
leap. At the very best, he would provide
her with some hot chocolate.
He heard her tossing and turning in her blankets on the
other side of the door, so he pressed his hand on the door in a pathetic
attempt to comfort her. It must have
worked, though, because the rustling of the sheets stopped.
“(Y/N)?” he whispered, leaning his forehead against the
door. “Are you awake?”
“Of course I’m awake, dumbass, the floor is uncomfortable,”
(Y/N) sassily replied, her voice thick with fatigue. Jughead softly laughed. “I’m guessing you’re awake for the same
“Precisely,” he confirmed.
They fell into silence, and after a couple of minutes, Jughead was sure
(Y/N) had been overwhelmed by exhaustion and finally fell asleep, so he settled
into his makeshift bed and closed his eyes.
Gotta get better,
gotta get better
Gotta get better, gotta get better
Gotta get better, gotta get better
And maybe we’ll work it out
Jughead didn’t know what time it was, but a loud thump woke
him up. He shot up and glanced at
(Y/N)’s door. More loud noise continued
to leak from her room until it suddenly stopped. Jughead prepared to knock, but before his
hand could touch the door, a teary-eyed (Y/N) opened it. Her bottom lip quivered as she stood in front
of him. Never had he seen her look so fragile.
“I’m sorry,” she croaked.
Jughead shook his head as he pulled her into a hug. “There’s nothing to be sorry for, (Y/N).” Neither of them said anything else, and so
they sat in the middle of the hotel hallway floor at some ungodly hour,
clinging onto each other.
It wasn’t exactly how Jughead imagined it: not a word was
uttered, but he was still holding (Y/N) with her tears staining his pajama
If Jughead was selfish, he would’ve told (Y/N) how he
felt. He would have finally confessed that
he had a crush on her, something that he had been struggling to accept for the
past few weeks. But Jughead was not
selfish; this was (Y/N)’s moment to be vulnerable, not his. They still had a couple weeks left
together. He still had time.
After what felt like an eternity, (Y/N)’s sobs subsided and
she fell asleep on Jughead’s lap. He
softly smiled as he picked her up and gently laid her on her bed, placing a
blanket over her sleeping form. He
picked up his blankets from outside her door and dragged them back to his room,
where he carelessly tossed them onto his bed right before he flopped onto it.
(Y/N) would never tell him what was wrong. He knew that.
But that didn’t stop him from smiling to himself because he knew, even
if she didn’t want to talk about it, she would always come to him for a
shoulder to cry on. And for Jughead,
that was enough.
We don’t talk about it
It’s something we don’t do
'Cause once you go without it
Nothing else will do
He saw her the next morning at their internship. He smiled from across the room at her, and
she smiled back. Both of them had dark
circles under their eyes, the only evidence of what occurred the previous
They never spoke about that night. Neither of them ever talked about what
happened, and neither of them ever would.
It was a memory that remained hidden, the only witness besides the two
of them being that hotel hallway.
Sugar baby Rhys gets some minor surgery, like an appendectomy or something. As he's coming out of anesthesia, he's super loopy and starts saying all this mushy, romantic shit about Jack to the person he notices in the room...who happens to be Jack himself. Jack usually feels very in-control of his emotions, but suddenly this high-as-a-kite string bean has him all flustered
It was going to be fine.
Rhys had been complaining about the pain in his stomach for a couple of days, and while Jack had written it off at first as some bad fish from a restaurant he promised they’d never visit again, but when the pain had persisted Jack had all but bullied Rhys into an appointment with Jack’s private physician. After a litany of questions about the nature and duration of Rhys’ pain, a CT scan confirmed that Rhys’ appendix was inflamed. That had struck a chord of worry in Jack, despite his doctor’s assurance that Rhys’ case could be swiftly resolved with a relatively routine surgery. Still, the very idea of his pretty baby going under the knife, even if it was the knife of Jack’s very trustworthy surgeon, bolstered with the best equipment and staff that money could buy.
To his credit, Rhys seemed relatively nonplussed by the idea of surgery, pointing to his prosthetic when Jack had brought up his own concerns. Honestly, the young man took more issue with the fact that he was prevented from eating anything, even ice cream, the night before the surgery. The CEO had kept mostly silent after that, barely getting any sleep as he preferred to watch Rhys’ lay peacefully in his arms.
As Rhys sat on the hospital bed the next morning, Jack lavished the young man with as many kisses and careful petting as he could, pulling aside his surgeon for one final, not-so-veiled threat before he allowed Rhys to be prepped for the operation.
“You better not go dying on me, ‘kay pumpkin?” Jack gave Rhys’ hand a little squeeze, “all your shit is in my apartment, and hell if I’m gonna go through your sock collection all on my own.”
“Jack,” Rhys murmured, smirking, “I’ve probably had more surgeries than you have….it’s not a big deal. I’ll be fine.”
“Yeah, if your doctor wants to keep his job and his skin, then you will be.” Jack let out a loud growl, which was quickly cut off as Rhys’ grabbed the silk of Jack’s tie and pulled him in for a soft kiss.
“Dude, if you keep freaking out, you’re gonna give yourself a heart attack, then I’ll be the one losing my shit over you….” Rhys whispered as their lips parted. “Try to chill out…I’ll see you on the other side….okay old man?”
Jack let out a tense sigh, even as Rhys’ ran his fingers soothingly through the peppered gray streak in his hair.
“I’ll…I’ll try…” He huffed. Rhys gave him a soft, genuine smile, even as Jack was cautiously ushered away from his lover’s side.
“You better have a mountain of ice cream ready for me as soon as I can eat. I’m gonna be starving!” Rhys called as he was wheeled towards the operating room, giving Jack one last little wave before he was pushed through the doors.
Sure, a big part of Jack had always known that the surgery would probably go off without a hitch. And if not, at least he had violently beating the operating team for losing his lover’s life to look forward to. Still, the tension hadn’t fully bled out his body until the point where the surgeon had told him that the appendix had been removed successfully, and that Rhys was now resting in his room.
The kid was still asleep, as pale and as still as Jack had ever seen him. Despite the assuring bleep of the machines and the steady rise and fall of Rhys’ chest underneath his thin hospital gown. Grateful that no one else had decided to stay in the room with him, Jack took a seat at Rhys’ bedside, careful of the young man’s IV as he carefully took Rhys’ hand in his.
Things were quiet for awhile, and Jack was about to wonder if he was going to go crazy counting his boyfriend’s exhales, when suddenly Rhys started to stir.
“Kitten?” Jack gasped as he grasped Rhys’ hands in both of his, waiting with bated breath as Rhys’ expression started to shift, his eyelids fluttering as his head turned to the side. Little by little, Jack was greeted with a familiar blue and brown as Rhys’ eyes opened halfway, looking around the room dazedly.
“Rhysie….?” Jack whispered softly as the young man let out a tiny, sleepy moan. He was clearly still out of it, caught in the effects of the anasthesia. Which was fine, Jack was content to hang around and hold the kid’s hand
But then Rhys started talking.
“Muhh….J….Jack…” Rhys moaned, voice weak and reedy as he softly smacked his lips together, Jack stiffened, staring down at the young man in surprise. Rhys didn’t sound all that….conscious, like he was babbling in his sleep.
“Yeah, pumpkin?” Jack whispered softly, not wanting to scare him. Rhys’ eyes just dazedly flicked up to him
“Oh….hey. Can you please….gotta tell Jack…” Rhys murmured, shifting slightly in his bed. Jack raised an eyebrow as he looked down on the loopy young man. Tell him what? Jack knew everything about Rhys that might be considered a dirty little secret. Turn-ons, pet peeves, ex-boyfriends. If he was planning some kind of drug-induced confession, there wasn’t much on the table that Jack didn’t already know about, or suspect.
“You gotta….tell Jack….I love him…” Rhys whined, blissfully unaware of how he had suddenly cause Jack to freeze up in his chair, a blush reaching new heights in his cheeks as he stared down at the incoherent man. What was that?
N….No. No way. Sure, Jack cared for the kid, bought him new clothes and fancy food and fucked him so hard he was pretty sure they could hear his cries on the street below his penthouse, but love was something he figured he’d stopped dealing with years ago, when he’d given up on marriage and family and decided to just pluck whatever pretty thing he liked out of the crowds.
And yeah here his precious little addled idiot was, gushing his blubbery little feelings out all over Jack’s lap as if the older man knew at all what to do with it.
“Love him…so much….” Rhys continued, and damn the little lovestruck way he said that word was getting Jack redder than all the times Rhys’d wrapped those pretty little lips around his cock. “He was s-so worried…hehe…he said he’s gonna bring my ice cream…” A little quirk of a smile tugged at Rhys’ slack lips that made Jack’s heart flutter. “Do you think….do you think he’d feed it to me…? I want him to…I wanna kiss him…he can taste the ice cream….”
Jack’s heart thumped in his chest as he made a mental note to order the biggest, fanciest sundae to Rhys’ room as quickly as possible.
“Please….tell him, okay?” Rhys’s fingers weakly tightened on Jack’s hand, Jack giving him a warm squeeze in return.
“I…Okay, kiddo. I’ll tell him.” Jack promised, daring to lean in and kiss the young man’s forehead, even as his own skin was burning with blush at Rhys’ confession. He bit his lip as he watched the kid softly flutter back down into his nap, fingers relaxing against Jack’s warm grip and leaving the CEO alone with his thoughts.
Fuck. He wondered if some of the nurses would be willing to give some of the good stuff and knock him out instead.
Chris sighs. “Well, okay.” There’s some rustling on the other end – blankets, Viktor assumes. Like Chris is resettling himself in his bed. “Listen, I gotta go…” He trails off, leaving room for Viktor to ask for more time.
But Viktor ignores the silent offer. “Sorry for keeping you up late.”
“Anytime, handsome. You know if you ever need anything–”
“–I know how to reach you,” Viktor says, his stomach suddenly feeling tight, like he’s overwhelmed with something, though he’s not sure what. He just knows he’s ready for the call to be over. “Thanks, Chris. …G’night.”
Viktor ends the call and lets himself fall backwards against the wall with a soft thud, phone pressed against his mouth. He’s… unsettled, yes, that’s the word. It’s not an emotion he feels often – living life in the moment tends to leave little room for feelings like doubt or anxiety – but he’s certainly feeling it now.
He’s right, he thinks, the feeling gnawing ruthlessly at him as he mulls the conversation ove rin his head. He’s right, what am I doing? Picking a strange Persocom off the ground and jus taking it back with him, assuming it even worked, and now that he knows it does – what? What is he honestly going to do with it? Did he honestly just think he’d grabbed such an expensive, complicated piece of technology to look after Makkachin? Who deserves the best, of course, but no one does that. Except for him, apparently.
Are you lonely, Viktor?
It’s then that he feels something soft grab his arm; Viktor jolts, coming back to himself (and isn’t that something new, spacing out like that?). He glances over and realizes that it’s only the Persocom, staring up at him with… concern?
Okay. Deep breaths, Y/N. Deep breaths. - you kept repeating to yourself as you made your way to Dean’s room. You stood at the doorway, looking around, your chest rising and falling repeatedly. - “C'mon, you can do this.” - you muttered as you stood in front of the door and lifted your hand up, knocking three times.
A second later Dean swung the door open, a smile appearing on his face when his eyes landed on you - “Hey, sweetheart.” - he looked so deliciously good in his flannel. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, which made you stare at his big colloused arms for a second, before your eyes drifted lower, to his long jean-clad legs.
You licked your lips subconsciously as you observed the way his jeans fit tightly around his thighs. - “Anything I can help you with?” - Dean’s voice brought you out of your trance and quickly returned your gaze to him. He had his infamous smirk plastered on his face and one of his brows was arched.
Okay, here goes nothing. - “I-I…” - you stuttered out as Dean leaned against the doorframe. Fuck, it’s hard to concentrate when he’s looking at me like that.
“Spit it out, darlin’.” - the blush rose to your cheeks and you let out a frustrated sigh as Dean furrowed his brows in confusion.
Summary: Your friends with benefits situation with Sam gets a little messy when you go to Montreal with him
Word count: 4.2k+ (wow)
A/N: Just in time for the actual wrap of chaos walking lol!! Also I’m so sorry this took so long to get up I rewrote the ending like 7 different times. I hope you guys enjoy and pls send in anymore requests you have!!